Project Looking Glass

r scam artist and later turned honest (well, mostly) for my father. She's retired now and living in Tampa 'Plex in Florida,

and then left for home for

*

had to have Tango on auto-pilot most of the way there. I had pulled i

o my apartment last I was there, but it wasn't n

the same, although I really need to wash (sa

resser, okay. I flipped out the local termina

. No one had logged on since I had last

, it's superfluous and it's rather hard to crack

me, t

someone had logged on yesterday, read and

rson wa

hes. Shit! Lucky I only kept my important files

uple of hairs on my pillow. I picked them up; they were

Ma

posed as Dave Kaver's wife. She had to be a professi

few things I'd need for where I was going. With this Manx on my trail, I didn't think that I

loset. You see, some of my things are in va

ps, a dagger for the side of my leg and one for the back of my neck, a fully charged elect

in traveli

Enclave, a subsector down around the last five levels downside. It's an a

y mother showed me a few more practical things from her former days. I even used to go down the

have that familiar run-down look and greasy rank of the Alley. Downsiders stood around in groups, alternatingly playing fatal daring g

live in this place (s

tion of a female vulpanoid. Finally, I came upon the place I wanted, settled down my car, turned on the security field, and walked on into the bar. The place was still th

hing for my pocket with my right hand, the cat's eyes following my move as his claws protruded. His claws c

m its wrist emplacements and into my hand, and made a hole in his left eye that went most of the way to the ba

the

oxy five-foot-five waitress (if you'll pardo