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Chapter 28

SIERRA PAUSED IN THE ACT OF POURING COFFEE INTO three mugs. "There's nothing left at all of your beautiful house? How dreadful."

They were in her apartment. Fontana and Ray were at the small table, poring over notes and files. Fontana had his phone out, about to make a call.

"The antiquities collection was the only thing that would have been hard to replace," Fontana said absently. "It's all fine." He entered a number into his phone and waited for the other party to answer. "As for the house, it can be rebuilt."

"But you can't duplicate that gorgeous old woodwork or those incredible mosaics," she insisted. "They were museum quality. Craftsmanship like that just doesn't exist anymore."

"Maybe not, but fireproof building materials sure do. I intend to use them when I rebuild."

Ray winked at Sierra. "Fontana's not what you call the sentimental type."

Probably because he was so goal-oriented, she thought. The only thing that mattered to Fontana was the future.

He spoke into the phone.

"Davis? Fontana." There was a short pause. "You heard about that already?" Fontana shot an unreadable look at Sierra and then got to his feet and walked to the sliding glass doors that opened onto the balcony. "Sure, I know the jungle is not your ordinary honeymoon venue, but things have gotten a little complicated. That's why I'm calling."

He talked briefly and then ended the call.

"Oakes finally turned up something interesting on Patterson," he said.

"About time," Ray said.

"Who is Davis Oakes?" Sierra asked.

"He's a PI in Cadence," Fontana explained. "He went the old-fashioned route and followed the money. He said it took a lot of digging, but it turns out Patterson has set up several accounts at a number of small banks and investment firms scattered throughout the city-states using phony names and IDs."

Ray whistled softly. "Patterson is using the accounts to launder the cash he's pulling in from his ghost juice business."

Fontana picked up one of the mugs. "Looks like it, yes."

"You no longer have a choice," Ray said. "You're going to have to force him off the Council."

Fontana shook his head. "He'll disappear, and we'll never find that alien lab."

Ray stilled. "What the hell are you talking about?" He glanced uneasily at Sierra and then turned back to Fontana. "Don't tell me you're actually buying into the Curtain's theory that someone discovered an entire alien lab in the jungle."

"Maybe not a lab," Fontana conceded, "but that gadget the Riders used to destroy my security system and generate that ultraviolet ray is definitely alien technology."

"How do you know that? Maybe some hunter is working ultraviolet light naturally, the same way you and I work dark and green light."

"I don't think so. It was dissonance energy, but it was being generated at a very powerful level, a technologically enhanced level."

"He's right," Sierra said quickly. "They used small gadgets to create the energy beams. I saw one of them. It was about the size of a flashlight."

Ray rubbed the back of his neck. "We've always assumed that diss energy, hell, any alien psi for that matter, could only be manipulated by people with a lot of para-rez talent There's never been any technology that could turn it on and off. Even that artifact that they're using to heal the badly fried hunters at the Glenfield Institute has to be activated and focused by people with special psi abilities."

"It's possible that these ultragenerators require talent, too," Fontana conceded. "Either way. it produces very powerful rays that worked aboveground. The stuff knocked out my entire security system. Just think how useful that could be to someone who wanted to rob a bank or a house or immobilize an entire police station."

Ray exhaled slowly. "Okay, when it comes to the aliens, anything is possible, I guess."

"The generators came from somewhere," Fontana said. "I think the most likely explanation is that they were found in the jungle. Got a hunch that the discovery is part of what Patterson and Jenner were trying to cover up."

"Which reminds me, I've got some news of my own," Ray said. "While you two were frolicking on your eco-tour honeymoon trip, I located a couple of hunters who worked with Jake Tanner just before he suddenly retired."

Sierra was using a knife to scoop peanut butter out of the jar. She looked up quickly. "What did you find out?"

"The men I talked to recalled that Tanner's last job was a major corporate research-and-exploration expedition into the jungle. The project lasted a couple of weeks and then was halted abruptly. The official story is that the company concluded the venture was just one more deadend exploration effort with no prospect of showing a profit."

"R-and-E projects are called off all the time," Fontana said. "It's like prospecting for amber. Sometimes you get lucky. Sometimes you get nothing."

"Sure," Ray said. "But in this case the name of the company that funded the project that employed Tanner just happens to be Underworld Exploration."

Fontana raised his brows. "Even if Corley's company did turn up something valuable in the jungle, it's not a crime. That's what most rain forest exploration is all about, making money for investors. UEX is entitled to profit on anything it takes out of the jungle."

Sierra narrowed her eyes. "Unless it uses that discovery for illegal purposes such as forming a business partnership with the Riders in order to sell ghost juice on city streets."

"And therein lies the problem," Fontana said. "We've got zip in the way of proof that UEX is working with the Riders or anyone in the Guild, for that matter."

"Huh."

Frustrated, she finished the peanut butter and banana sandwich and gave it to Elvis. He carried it up to the windowsill and settled down to eat with his usual enthusiasm.

Fontana contemplated him for a moment, and then he turned to Sierra.

"I think it's time we took a look at Elvis's dressing room."

Ray gave them both a baffled look. "What's with the miniature room?"

"We're not sure," Sierra said. "It will probably turn out to be nothing, but something Jake Tanner told me when he gave it to Elvis keeps going through my head."

They gathered around the coffee table and looked down into the dressing room.

Sensing a new game, Elvis muttered excitedly and scampered down from the windowsill, the unfinished sandwich clutched in one paw. He hopped up onto the coffee table.

"The detail is amazing," Ray said, bending down to touch one tiny lightbulb.

"Yes," Sierra said. "I hate to start tearing it apart when I don't even know what we're searching for."

Fontana looked at her. "Tell me again exactly what Jake said when he gave it to you."

" 'If Elvis ever wants to find me, all he has to do is look in the mirror, " she recited carefully.

"I think," Fontana said, "we should start with the dressing table mirror."

Sierra hesitated, and then she reached down and tugged gently on the mirror. Elvis watched with great interest, but he did not seem alarmed.

The mirror did not budge.

"Looks like it's glued on," Ray observed. "Might be something behind it. You could try prying it off."

"No," Sierra said, very sure now. "If Jake wanted to conceal something in the dressing room, he would have done it in a way that did not require destroying the miniature in order to retrieve whatever was hidden. He was an artist. He wouldn't have wanted his work ruined."

She opened the drawer in the dressing table. The tiny comb was still inside, but that was all.

"It must be the mirror," Fontana said. "Let me see that thing."

He picked up the dressing room and examined the underside very carefully. Elvis watched, suddenly very intent.

"It's okay, King," Fontana said. "I'm not going to hurt your dressing room."

Satisfied that there were no hidden springs, locks, or levers, he set it back down on the coffee table. Gingerly he tugged and pressed each of the miniature lightbulbs that surrounded the mirror.

When he pushed the third one on the right, the mirror swung aside, revealing a thin little opening in the wall behind it. A piece of neatly folded paper was inside.

"Damn," Ray said softly.

Sierra leaned forward, thrilled. "Oh, my gosh, it's a message of some kind."

"Don't get too excited," Fontana warned. He removed the paper. "By all accounts, Tanner was a total burnout case, and he was into ghost juice. Everyone knows that juicers don't think or act logically."

He unfolded the sheet of paper and spread it out on the table. Disappointment flashed through Sierra when she saw that all that was written on the page were some numbers.

"Probably his lucky lottery ticket numbers," she said.

"Guess again," Ray said. He looked at Fontana. "Well, what do you know? Looks like Tanner wasn't as far gone into dreamland as everyone thought."

"What do the numbers mean?" Sierra asked.

Cold satisfaction iced Fontana's eyes.

"They're coordinates pinpointing a position in the rain forest," he said. He met Ray's eyes. "I think it's time we went looking for Jake Tanner."

"Never leave a man behind for ghost bait," Ray said.

Excitement flashed through Sierra. "I'm coming with you."

Both men regarded her with faces that could have been carved from solid quartz.

"No," Fontana said.

Ray shook his head. "No."

Outrage burned through her. "This is my story, damn it, the one I've been chasing for months. I have a right to go with you."

"I'm sorry," Fontana said in his emotionless, utterly inflexible Guild boss voice. "Ray and I will be moving fast in the jungle. We don't know what we're going to find. We don't have time to babysit a civilian."

"Don't you dare call me a civilian," she shot back. "I'm an investigative journalist. What's more, if it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't even have those coordinates."

Elvis muttered unhappily, responding to her anger and frustration. He dashed across the coffee table, scampered up onto her shoulder, and murmured into her ear.

"I know we owe this break to you," Fontana said quietly. "The Guild won't forget that."

"Oh, great, now you're going to try to fob me off with that ridiculous line about how the Guild always repays a favor. Well, forget it. I don't want any favors from the Guild. I did this for all the men the Guild left behind as ghost bait on the streets of this city."

A crystalline silence gripped the room. No one moved. No one spoke. Even Elvis went very still.

After a moment, Fontana went to stand in front of her. He gripped her shoulders with both hands.

"I understand" he said. "I'm trying to make it clear that the Guild appreciates your work. But taking you with us is out of the question. You've only spent one night in the jungle. You've had no training or experience. We'd have to nursemaid you every step of the way. That would not only slow us down, it could jeopardize the mission. If Jake and the others are still alive, it might mean the difference between life and death for them."

Reality slammed through her. He was right. She had no business going into the jungle. Still, it was infuriating to be shut out like this when she could feel the story coming together.

"Okay," she said wearily. "Go find out what happened to Jake and the others."

"There's just one more thing," Fontana said.

"Don't press your luck."

"I want you covered by a security detail while Ray and I are gone."

"Is that a polite term for bodyguard?"

"Yes." He glanced at Ray. "But given the circumstances, I don't want to take the risk of arranging one through the Guild. It will start rumors that may give whoever is behind this a heads-up."

"You need some men from outside the Guild," Ray said. "Private agency, maybe?"

Fontana crossed to the window and stood looking down at the street below.

"I think I know where we can get some reliable men," he said.