(Language corrections by Shayne and Phaedra7veils.)

Prologue

Iason rounded the pool table and bent over it when he spotted his goal. It took him a moment to aim, but the strike was perfect. The ball rolled, hitting another in its path, changed course on impact, and fell straight into the pocket. Just like the one before. Raoul swayed wearily, leaning against his cue while his competitor strolled over to another ball and delivered another faultless strike. Raoul sighed. Maybe they could play chess? At least in chess the score was more or less equal.

"So now you've decided to put that mongrel of yours to work in the black market."

The moment he said that, Raoul wondered what kind of masochist he was to bring the subject up again. Lately his meetings with Iason usually ended in an argument and Raoul had the dubious honor of being the one who provoked it. But then, Iason's whims concerning his 'beloved' pet definitely demanded comment. And his newest idea – to give Riki a job in the black market – was maybe the most absurd. And the most destructive. Raoul just couldn't leave it like that.

Iason didn't even move from over the table. He looked up at Raoul bent as he was, his gaze exasperated.

"Not again, Raoul."

But Raoul had already pushed himself into the trap of consequence.

"Listen to me, Iason, just once," he spoke, while his fellow Blondie straightened and gracefully moved to the next ball. "You're taking it too far. You took a mongrel pet, you made him your special. You've granted him more freedom than any other pet in Eos has. You gave him his own apartment. Now you're giving him a job! What next, Iason? Face it, what you're doing is ridiculous."

Yeah, keep talking Raoul, he'll listen to you. Just as he always does. Iason apparently shared his thoughts.

"You are boring, Raoul, you know that?"

Raoul opened his mouth, but the loud sound of a strike came first, drowning out his would-be reply. He followed the ball with his eyes as it made an impressive course around the table, finally hitting the pocket and sending two other balls down.

"Don't you understand what kind of position you're putting me in?" he continued. "If you don't change your ways, Jupiter will finally lose her patience. You may be her favorite, but we both know she will order a mind-cleansing if she reckons you need it. And I'm the one who will have to carry out her orders. I am your friend, Iason. I really don't want to do it."

But I will, I won't dare to stand against her. He didn't say it, but it hung, heavy, in the air. Iason straightened and maybe for the first time really looked at him.

"I am sorry, Raoul, but I just can't stop. If Jupiter has a problem with that, so be it. In any case, I'll try to deal with her. And if you call yourself my friend, just try to understand."

But Raoul couldn't understand. What was there to understand, after all? Iason took a mongrel, a crude, filthy, primitive mongrel, and treated him... almost like an equal. It made no sense. Mongrels couldn't equal even ordinary Midas citizens, let alone the highest elite of Tanagura. They were the lowest of the low.

Iason must have seen it on his face, because his own face clouded over.

"And if you can't understand," he added, "just quit that talk and let's play. Or I'm quitting the game."

One look at his friend's darkened gaze was enough for Raoul to know that pushing the matter further would be highly unreasonable. Jupiter's favorite child had put his foot down again. But then, Raoul never really believed he would manage to convince him anyway.

"All right, let's play," he gave in.

Iason nodded, accepting the victory without a word. He seemed as calm as ever when he was leaning over to take aim yet again. But when he stuck, the ball bashed against the edge of the table – just an inch away from the pocket, rolled back and stopped somewhere in the middle. Raoul blinked, surprised. Iason had missed.

Beautiful eyes shifted to him. Beautiful lips formed in a chilly smile.

"Your turn, Raoul."

Raoul didn't know why, but those words gave him shivers.

Chapter 1

Raoul was sitting in his office, browsing through brochures and offers from firms. Some of them he rejected just by name, some accepted automatically, trying to spare himself pointless reading. Business – he really hated this part of his work. Every year Tanagura Bioengineering Center put partnership out to tender. Every year the same firms were eventually chosen. Contracts changed a little, new, growing companies were given their chance, but all in all, it was bore.

The new offer submitted by Shisei Kano seemed interesting, however, and Raoul decided to give it a closer look once the files were roughly selected. Kano Enterprises had been the Center's main supplier for a few good years already and Raoul was always pleased with their performance. Acceptance of the offer would tighten the alliance even more and the longer he considered this, the better the idea appeared.

He was already in the middle of the document, when the buzz of a comm unit broke the silence of the room. A little green light on the control panel signaled an internal call. He swiftly pressed the button.

"Raoul Am on line."

"Mr. Am? Solo May, computer department here," said the young Sapphire that appeared on the screen. "We have a little emergency, sir. I thought you should know."

Raoul gave him a slight frown. "What is it?"

The man shifted his position uneasily. "The system has been compromised tonight. We only discovered it a minute ago, while we were running our daily check."

For a moment Raoul sat still, processing the news. How was this possible? He'd been assured that the system was unbreakable. Yes, wasn't that what they always said about expensive systems?

"Are you sure?"

"Unfortunately so, sir."

"Give me more details."

Solo took a deep breath. "Well, it looks like very clever work. The entry left practically no traces. If it weren't for the check, we would have most likely missed it. It seems their main target was the genetic lab – they gained access to its main terminal. We're still checking other departments, but so far no more entries were detected," the youth recited quickly. "As for the things in the hacked terminal – the database is untouched. They left no bugs, no viruses, they apparently weren't trying to cause any damage. No files have been changed or deleted. That's the good news. What isn't so good is that we still can't figure out what data has been copied. As I said, very clever work."

"Wait a minute," Raoul interrupted. "How do we know that anything has been copied at all? Maybe it was just some hacker kid having fun or trying out his skills."

Solo shook his head. "I don't think so, sir. A hacker having fun would most likely leave a mess and a yellow bouncing smiley with a message 'I was here'. He wouldn't have tried to hide his tracks so much. Besides, a non-elite simply wouldn't be able to gain access to our system, and as for the elite – I really can't imagine an elite having fun like this."

Raoul sighed. Solo was right. Elite members were drilled in responsibility and compliance with rules since their early childhood. They would hardly be having fun hacking the system of Tanagura's main bioengineering labs. Not even the youngest ones.

"So, what we are dealing with here is data theft," he guessed.

"That's the only logical motive I can see. We are currently working on the problem. With a little luck we'll come up with some answers soon. Of course we haven't notified anyone from the outside yet. We left that to your decision."

Raoul nodded. "Very well. I'll take care of it. You just keep me informed. I expect an hourly report on the progress of your work. If you find anything, let me know immediately."

With that he disconnected, not waiting for the young man to acknowledge the order. He was sure his words would be followed to the letter.

When the screen faded to black, he leaned back in his armchair and finally let a deep scowl surface. His hand rose to his hair and played with one wavy strand, twirling it around his finger, as his mind drew dark scenarios that could now unfold.

* * *

Two days later.

Iason was gazing at his friend's beautiful face on the screen. The face was calm as always, part of it covered by golden locks, one visible eyebrow bent in a habitual frown. Raoul's usual expression. And yet, the words Iason had just heard were highly surprising.

"Do you think you could arrange for me to meet with Katze?"

Katze? What could Raoul possibly want from Katze? Sure, these two knew each other. Most of the drugs, medical equipment, bionic limbs and organs, even new breeds of pets that Iason delivered to the black market came from Raoul's labs. But it was always handled with Iason's mediation and, apart from that, his friend and his former furniture had little in common.

Iason looked at the other Blondie, intrigued.

"What do you need Katze for?"

A minimal grimace twisted Raoul's shapely lips.

"We've got... a little problem here at the Center. I think Katze could help. But I'd rather not talk about it on line. If you want, we can meet another day. I suppose you should know about it anyway."

Iason watched his friend more seriously. Now he was also a little worried. It wasn't like Raoul to be so guarded around him.

"Katze is coming to my place this evening," he offered. "I have a few—matters to discuss with him. Why don't you drop by? We'll talk about your issue later."

He expected Raoul's usual question at the invitation. 'Will Riki be there?' The biologist always tried to avoid visiting him when the mongrel was staying in Eos. Well, this time he would have to deal with it, if he really cared to meet with Katze quickly.

But the question didn't come. Raoul nodded his head almost immediately.

"All right, I'll be there."

* * *

Images moved behind the thick darkened glass. Streets changed from one to another, welcoming the visitor with cascades of lights and almost the same set of luxurious cars and buildings. Raoul was gazing out of the window without really seeing any of these, as his limousine headed unhurriedly for the center of the central district of Tanagura.

He'd decided to go to Iason straight from work – he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. He felt bad about what he was about to do. He felt... ashamed. The thought that he would have to admit the incompetence of his people in front of Iason, in front of Katze!, was nothing short of demeaning. Katze was a mongrel. It was almost ridiculous, and Raoul would probably laugh if it happened to someone else. The Blondie smirked bleakly at his reflection in the glass. In a way, if Katze failed to fulfill his request, Raoul would even be glad. Of course, it would do no good for his problems.

The car came to a stop, pulling him back to reality. He'd been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed when he reached his destination. He got out of the limousine. The door slid closed with a little puff and the automatic driver directed the car towards the parking area. Raoul turned and headed for the main entrance of the main tower of Eos.

Iason's furniture, a boy of about sixteen, was already waiting in the hall when the elevator doors opened. He greeted Raoul and took his coat. The big, heavy piece of clothing in the newest elite fashion almost unbalanced the poor kid. The Blondie headed for the main door while the boy was still struggling with the imposing attire. Raoul ignored the furniture's panicked gaze and entered the living room without waiting to be announced.

The head of Tanagura's Syndicate sat with his former furniture at a low, oblong table near the floor-to-ceiling window and the huge door leading to the balcony. Raoul moved in their direction, stealing glances around in search of yet another person. Fortunately Riki was nowhere to be seen. Damn, he should have asked about it, but when he had talked to Iason earlier that day, he'd been too troubled to bother his mind with misbehaving mongrel pets.

When he approached the table, Katze rose from his armchair and bowed a greeting to him. Iason just nodded from his place on the couch.

"Take a seat, Raoul." With a slight move of his chin he pointed to the armchair opposite to him.

Sitting down, Raoul picked up the faint scent of smoke and it gave him an image of Katze hastily putting out a cigarette at his arrival. An ashtray full of cigarette butts sat on the table. And something else next to it, a little paper box. Playing cards?

The furniture, Kyaru – Raoul finally remembered his name – rushed into the room, an embarrassed expression on his face, and stopped by the table.

"Would you like something to drink?" It was Iason who spoke, not the boy.

Raoul quickly made his order, giving it no real thought. Iason ordered the same. Katze just shook his head and thanked. The furniture bent his body in a deep bow and left as silently as he had come.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" Iason asked.

Raoul closed his eyes for a moment, bracing himself for public humiliation. And then, within the next two minutes, he presented them the whole situation. There wasn't much to present, actually. Since the moment Solo May had called him for the first time two days ago, little changed. No – Raoul hated to admit it – nothing changed.

"My experts have worked on this for two days," he finished, "and achieved nothing. What data has been stolen, how much of it... The only thing they managed to figure out for sure is that the terminal in the genetic lab was the only hacked unit in the Center. Whoever they were – those who did it – they were extremely skillful."

He heard quiet steps and paused before continuing. Kyaru placed a tray with their orders on the table and bowed himself away.

"That's how it looks more or less," Raoul concluded while Iason reached for his drink. "We could continue to flounder like this for some time yet. Most likely we would eventually solve the problem. The thing is, we may not have that time. The data they gathered might be crucial. I need answers now."

He finished and fixed his eyes on Iason, waiting for his reaction. Katze was silent too. Tanagura's first Blondie shifted the glass under his nose, inhaling the aroma in an aristocratic manner.

"How do we know that it wasn't just some hacker doing it for fun?" he asked.

Katze shook his head. "I don't think so, Iason. A hacker out for fun wouldn't have been trying to hide his tracks so much. He'd more likely leave a mess and a pink bouncing smiley with some message. 'I wuz 'ere', something like that."

Raoul shot him a glance, remembering the young blue-haired elite just two days ago.

"I thought the smiley was yellow." The words slipped out of his mouth, before he managed to stop them.

Katze's lips twitched in a hint of a smile. "Yellow could do."

Iason blinked at them.

"Besides," Raoul continued, "a non-elite would not be able to break into our system – at least that's what my computer experts claim. And I can't imagine an elite hacking the Center's terminal just for fun."

At that moment a slight movement at the edge of his vision caught his attention. He automatically moved his gaze to that point and tensed, seeing a small figure at the threshold of the balcony.

"Hi, Raoul."

Dammit! How long had Riki been standing there, listening to his revelations? His public humiliation was supposed to be witnessed by two people only – and even that was too many. The thought that the despised mongrel was yet another spectator to his confession sent a wave of heat to Raoul's cheeks.

The black-haired youth was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching Raoul with an insolent expression. Or at least it seemed insolent to Raoul. The Blondie ignored him deliberately and turned his head to Iason, intending to prompt him to reprimand his pet. But Iason was faster.

"Not a word, Raoul."

And strangely Raoul didn't have the willpower to argue with him.

"Go to your room, Riki." This time Iason's voice sounded softer, but at the same time more forceful.

Riki didn't protest either. He pushed away from the frame, gave Raoul another speaking look and marched across the parlor, smiling devilishly. Finally he disappeared down the corridor and the door slid closed behind him. Raoul sighed. Iason sighed too. Katze's hand reached to the pocket on his chest, but stopped in mid-air.

"Do you mind if I smoke, Iason?"

"Go ahead. If Raoul doesn't mind, that is."

Raoul shook his head, mumbling a reluctant permission and the hand happily fished into the pocket.

"In this hacked terminal," Iason took up, while Katze lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. "Did you have anything concerning the black market there?"

"No. Not really. All those things I keep in my private terminal in my office. It's offline for most of the time. However, if they looked into the lab's databases really closely, if they compared certain data, expenses, amounts, if they knew what to look for, they'd probably be able to figure out that something is not right. But somehow, I doubt that's what they were after."

"But you can't be absolutely certain."

"No, I can't."

Iason snorted.

"Did you call the police?"

Raoul's mouth twisted derisively. "I notified them. An official investigation has to be opened if we want to take legal measures later on, when we find out who did it."

Iason nodded, accepting it silently. Raoul finally reached for his glass as well – more to have something to busy his hands with, than to drink.

"And then I thought, maybe my people can't come up with anything simply because they aren't hackers. They are great computer experts, but they don't know the hacker way of thinking, and they certainly don't know their tricks. Maybe a hacker should be fought with another hacker. Use thief to catch a thief, as they say. That's why I thought of Katze."

Good, he praised himself, that sounded reasonable. Sounded natural and firm. Betrayed nothing of his embarrassment. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that the dealer was watching him, but the handsome face wore no particular expression.

"So, you want Katze to go there and try to find some answers for you," Iason said.

"Yes. If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind." The soft voice held a slight note of irritation. "I hope it will help to secure our mutual interests."

Raoul looked at the redhead. "What do you say, Katze?"

The dealer crumpled the cig with his fingers somewhat nervously.

"Sure, I'll take a look at that."

* * *

The room was full of people. Elite of every hair color stood in semicircle as though expecting some kind of a show. Behind them a glass wall gave an open view of a giant room – the main genetic lab, or at least that's what Katze was guessing. At the moment, however, he could see neither the group of elite scientists, nor the lab, as he was facing the opposite wall. The wall completely occupied by a huge terminal.

"Our current system, [Alpha] 4800, was installed just a few months ago. Are you familiar with it?" asked a young man sitting in front of the screens. Solo May, Katze remembered his name – they had been introduced to each other just a few minutes earlier in Raoul's office.

"More or less."

Actually it was rather less than more, as systems of the [Alpha] group were only installed in big companies, being much too powerful for private users. Katze had never had a chance to work with any of them. All he knew was some info he had gathered on the net the day before. Not that the Alphas were very different from the systems he usually operated, though.

"We change our configurations every two months. As well as the firewalls. I guess you will have to look into it by yourself. Here is our main database."

Solo proceeded to present the system to him, starting some applications, opening files, and talking all the time. Katze listened to him only partially – more of his attention was drawn to the murmurs he heard from behind. Conspiratorial murmurs. And rather aloof.

"So that's the guy. Russell was right, he's not even an elite."

"Who is he, anyway?"

"I don't exactly know. Just heard his name. Katze."

Katze suppressed the desire to turn around and give the speakers the evil eye. He bit his lip, desperately longing for a smoke. Next to him, Raoul shifted his weight from one foot to another and sighed uncomfortably.

"Katze?" another voice joined the conversation. It seemed agitated. "Isn't that the name of Iason Mink's former furniture?"

"Yes, that's it! That's the name! Katze. The one keen on computers..."

The voice stopped short with a dreadful realization. Katze winced and swore inwardly. Right, now it will start.

"But it would mean that he's a—"

At that moment Raoul loudly cleared his throat.

"Gentlemen, please, stop the whispers."

The reproach worked and the murmurs ceased. Tension however remained, hanging in the air, heavy and unspoken. Raoul gave Katze a short, sidelong glance, but said nothing. For a short while there was only Solo's voice resounding in the silence of the room, but soon the lecture also came to an end.

The Sapphire rose from his chair and offered it to Katze with a slightly nervous gesture.

"Would you please?"

Katze nodded and sat down.

"Do you need any more explanations, Mr... em, Katze?"

Oh yes, Solo also had a problem with him. How to address a mongrel, castrated mongrel, a former furniture, who however came here to help, recommended by the big boss himself. In effect, although the young man seemed quite friendly, he desperately tried not to address Katze at all. Only sometimes he forgot himself...

Katze glanced at the running program.

"No thanks. I think I can handle the rest myself," he sent the man an apologetic smile. "In any case, I'll just call."

He turned to the screen. And then the forced silence suddenly broke.

"But he's a mongrel!" Someone obviously found it necessary to finish the phrase interrupted before. The whisper was loud enough to be heard in the most distant corners of the room. If anyone had missed the earlier conversation, they definitely heard it now. The reaction came immediately.

"What?"

"A mongrel?"

"Yes, that's true."

"But that's ridiculous!"

"Has Raoul gone crazy?"

"Impossible."

"No, he cannot be, he doesn't look like one."

There was more of it, all uttered at once – in the joint noise of voices it was hard to distinguish words.

"But sir, this man is a mongrel," finally someone dared to speak it out loud. The voice was calm and collected, dressed in a completely needless elegance. Katze heard a rustle of clothes behind him as Raoul turned to face the speaker.

"Yes, he is. He is also the most effective hacker I know. And if I am to use the help of a mongrel to solve our problem, I will surely do it. Anyone with a better idea, please tell me."

No one spoke. There was a long moment of silence, then Raoul's clothes rustled again.

"Are you ready to work now, Katze?"

Katze didn't feel quite ready. His hands were trembling. This whole situation got on his nerves a great deal. But well, with that no technical tips and instructions would help.

"Yes. But if you don't mind, I would like to be alone. I prefer to work in silence."

The malice wasn't intended, but when he realized it, he felt a perverse relief. Indignant whispers broke out again. Why, a mongrel was asking them to get out!

"I don't mind at all," Raoul said, and then more loudly, directing his words to the onlookers: "Enough staring, everyone. Please, return to your work."

Katze smirked under his breath, but he doubted anyone noticed it. They were too agitated with their offended pride. He still heard them muttering as they were leaving, and the hum faded only when the door in the glass wall closed behind them. Raoul and Solo moved to another door. The younger man left first, and the Blondie stopped at the threshold, turning to look at Katze over his shoulder. Noticing it out of the corner of his eye, the dealer glanced at him expectantly.

"I'll be in my office at all times," Raoul said. "If you manage to find anything, let me know immediately. If you don't, you can always come back tomorrow – so take your time."

The words were calm and quiet, but uttered in a cold, business-like voice, leaving Katze no doubt that Raoul was in fact no different than the others – held the same biases and distance. He had taken his side only because he believed Katze could be helpful.

But of course Katze had never expected a warm reception in the hotbed of the elite. He gave the Blondie a short professional nod. "Yes, sir."

"Have a productive day, then," Raoul smiled reservedly and disappeared behind the door.

* * *

Raoul suspected that his fascination with Katze started somewhere at that point. At first it was an unexpected comparison with the group of elite. A few simple observations. Katze was tall, very tall as for an ordinary person. Only slightly shorter than most of the people gathered in the terminal room and taller than a few of them. He had a pure hair color. Almost as pure as the Rubies. And finally – he was beautiful.

At first the thought startled Raoul. What was he thinking? A mongrel, and so terribly scarred – beautiful? But then he came to his senses. Of course, Katze was a furniture, it was natural that he was good-looking. Though the man stood out even by furniture standards. And his scar, covered by his hair most of the time, wasn't really an issue. His features were regular, almost as flawless as the features of Academy pets only not so soft. But then, he wasn't a kid anymore.

As many times as Raoul had seen Katze before, he'd never really noticed any of that. But those things alone would never cause any kind of infatuation. Many ordinary people were tall and beautiful, and had a pure hair color. Sometimes (rarely though) it occurred even without the help of genetic engineering. No, it wasn't that.

It was the call Raoul got from Katze late in the evening, a couple of hours after they parted in the lab. The words were short, laconic, uttered without any special emotion.

"Raoul? I think I found it."

* * *

Why is it that the big bosses always have their seats at the top of the building, mused Katze detachedly while the elevator carried him up to the last floor of TBC headquarters. The lift stopped with a quiet beep and the doors opened, presenting him to Raoul's huge office for the second time this day. He found the Blondie standing by the window and staring out of it. He made his way through the spacious room and only at the sound of his steps did Raoul turn to look at him, expression slightly distracted, as though he was just pulled from a reverie.

They were here alone. Well, the hour was late, most of the Center's employees had probably gone home. And tomorrow Raoul would pass the good news himself, avoiding the uncomfortable situation of a mongrel speaking in front of a group of highly-seated elites.

"So tell me," Raoul spoke, approaching the desk.

Katze raised his hand and showed him a disc with the data.

"Here it is," he placed the box neatly next to the computer. "Everything I managed to find out. Everything that there was to find out, I believe."

Raoul narrowed his eyes, reached for the case and opened it. His gaze fell on the inside of the cover – there, on the little case leaflet, written in Katze's somewhat unshapely handwriting, were two lines of text. The Blondie's face pulled into a frown.

"What is it?" his voice suddenly sounded sharp.

"Two most important things. The path to the copied directory. And IP of the terminal it was copied to. All the details you've got on the disc."

Raoul didn't listen to the last sentence. He dropped to his chair and rubbed his temples, a heavy puff escaping his throat. Katze looked at him curiously. So, the news wasn't good.

"Something important?" he asked.

"Yeah." The biologist waved his hand, pointing at the chair across the desk. "Come on, sit down."

Katze took the offered seat. He studied the Blondie for a moment, uncertain what to say.

"So, what now? Are you going to call the police?" The question wasn't too clever, he knew the answer to it. But staying quiet just didn't feel right.

Raoul looked up at him a bit surprised.

"And what power do the police have, really?" he snorted. Yes, exactly the answer Katze had expected. "They are paid off, they do what they are told by people more powerful than themselves. Like me. Like those who did it, probably. I can call them when I find the guilty party, but not before then. That is my problem, Katze, and I am not going to pass it to some middle-class outsider from the police. Besides, I don't want the police meddling in the Center's business. They might come across something I wouldn't want them to."

"So? You're thinking of running a private investigation?"

Katze wondered if he was too daring asking the Blondie all these questions. Almost as if he was speaking to someone of his own position. But it seemed so natural to ask... He'd become so familiar with Iason's company that he sometimes forgot other elite might demand more fearful regard.

Raoul, however, didn't seem offended.

"Absolutely. I have much better means to pursue this than the police."

Katze didn't doubt that. Raoul straightened his back, returning to his fully imperious demeanor. He once more looked at the leaflet.

"IP of the terminal this data was copied to, you say," his voice was strong and composed again.

Katze nodded. Raoul's eyes shifted smoothly from the disc to him. They studied him for a long moment.

"I must say you surprise me, Katze. My people couldn't even figure which data had been copied and you find not only that, but also where it's been copied to. That's more than I have expected."

Katze felt his brows rise on his forehead. Had Raoul just praised him? The same Raoul who constantly pestered Iason about his improper contacts with mongrels actually praised him? He however managed to keep his usual cool composure and just smiled politely.

"Thanks."

The Blondie leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

"So what's on the disc?"

"Full report of what I did plus some other details. I thought people from your computer department could use it."

"They surely could. Anything that might interest me?"

"If you like reading techno-babble."

Raoul put the disc away not looking at it.

"And do you know where the terminal with this IP is located? Where physically, I mean? Tanagura? Some other place on Amoi? A colony maybe?"

"Somewhere close, judging by the number. Tanagura or Midas, most likely. But where exactly – I didn't go that deep."

The Blondie's lips curved in a minimal smile.

"But it's possible to check it, isn't it?"

Katze nodded. "Quite easily. Your people won't have any problem with it."

"Ah." Raoul gave him another long look. "But what if I prefer you to do it? I hope you don't mind."

Unknown are the paths of Blondies' thinking, the short thought flashed through Katze's mind and made him smirk inwardly. Raoul wanted the help of a mongrel because no one amongst his own people could help him. And – that one was for sure – only because of that. Now the mongrel wasn't necessary anymore. So why did he want him? In any case, Katze couldn't refuse.

"I don't mind," he muttered.

"Very well. When can I expect the results?"

"Shortly. Tomorrow, maybe the day after. But I'd rather do it from my home terminal."

"Sure, you can do it from wherever you wish." With that, Raoul smiled at him again. And there was something in that smile that unexpectedly worried Katze. This time it wasn't the cold, distant curl of lip the Blondie had given him back in the lab. There was something else in it this time. But Katze couldn't define what it was.

* * *

Raoul was first and foremost a scientist. Not a businessman, not a leader, but a scientist. He was created to be one and Jupiter's plan for him worked perfectly. The prominent trait of a good scientist – the need for answers, for searching and finding – ran strong in Raoul's veins. And that was why he was so struck with his observations about Katze.

Let's consider this, he thought, pacing around his parlor the night after the dealer's visit to the Center. What distinguished the elite from ordinary people was their perfection – body and mind. They had beautiful faces, pure hair color, big and extremely strong bodies. Their intelligence surpassed that of the rest of population by more than 100 points. This set of features was artificially assured with every elite created. However, what Raoul knew better than perhaps anyone on Amoi, and what he considered most fascinating was that this set of features was not impossible to achieve in natural breeding. It was all within the natural human range of variation, except that it was at the far end of the distribution, so that in reality it just didn't occur.

But Katze... in many ways the man resembled an elite. By some incredible stroke of fortune he must have received the pool of genes that gave him this exceptional, elite-like combination of features. If it were one or two of those traits it wouldn't have been that unusual. It happened among Ceres natives now and then. Even Iason's mongrel had a pure hair color and remarkable facial beauty. But so many of them, including intelligence? Not even Midas citizens, whose breeding was almost as controlled as elite's neared such perfection. Raoul seriously doubted that any other specimen like that, not being an elite, graced this world.

This discovery was so fascinating that he trembled with excitement. And just to think how far Katze would have gone if raised like an elite. If he had grown up in luxurious dormitories instead of Ceres' Guardian, if he'd received elite's education. If he wore his hair long, didn't have that scar on his face, dressed better, ate better and didn't smoke like a chimney (which would definitely work wonders for this unhealthy paleness of his). Then he might even be taken for an elite.

And there was something that made these discoveries even more enthralling.

Katze was a mongrel. A mere mongrel without even citizenship. Sure, he was a black market dealer, quite powerful in the underground world, but so what? By law he was still no one and meant nothing. He couldn't even buy a cup of coffee in a normal shop. One might take possession of him and his life and he wouldn't be in a position to do anything about it.

Exactly as Iason had done with his mongrel.

But Iason's mongrel wasn't exceptional and this one here... To own a creature like that. It would be almost like having an elite member in his possession. So unique. So—beautiful. Raoul shivered with excitement again and forced himself to stop pacing. He sat down in the armchair, trying to chase these thoughts away. What was he thinking? He'd always scolded Iason and now... But on the other hand— he looked around his apartment. Lately the silence started to bother him. Pets were annoying, sure, but without them his condo seemed empty and the furniture was just... furniture. And what could stop him after all? Why shouldn't he do what he felt like? He was a Blondie. He could do as he pleased, especially so with someone who wasn't even a citizen. Surely Raoul didn't have in mind any of those carnal things Iason did with Riki. There was no reason to feel guilty. Katze might be a mongrel, but his quality was far better than the quality of many pets from the Academy. Really, could anyone be surprised that Raoul was curious about him? It was natural. It was obvious! There was no reason to refrain from that.

Right.

The thought calmed him a bit and he was finally able to put it aside. He moved his gaze to the pile of papers lying on the table next to his armchair. A printout of contents of the disc Katze had brought him – he decided, after all, to wade through the 'techno-babble', but just as he'd expected, he didn't find anything interesting there. All he really needed were those two lines of text on the case leaflet. And especially the first one worried him a great deal.

The Special Breed – it was the working name for his new genetic project. The project that was in theory finalized, but had yet to be tested. The experiment had already been started, twenty trial fetuses were already growing in their incubators. Still, it was much too early to say anything. And it would be a long time before the testing period ended.

Both he and Iason had big plans for this project. An entirely new breed of pets with original, completely unique features – it was planned as a revolution in the market. Tanaguran to begin with, but they were also considering various export opportunities. Other cities just waited for them, still so unexplored. They expected to seduce them with this new collection. It was supposed to bring them a huge amount of money and therefore was kept a top secret in the Center. Even the sponsors, bound by an oath of secrecy, were given only the most meager and general information.

Now the top secret wasn't a secret anymore. Raoul recalled Iason's highly displeased look when he'd told him the news. Yeah, they had a problem and the solution had to be found fast. Ironically, with this particular difficulty Katze could come in handy as well.

* * *

When Iason entered the lounge, Raoul was already sitting at their usual spot. He was sipping from a tall glass, eyes fixed on the table top. Iason approached him and sat down, greeting him with a nod. There was another glass and a bottle of Iason's favorite Amber Delight on the table. Raoul motioned at it.

"Help yourself, I ordered for you."

Iason thanked him, smiling at his friend's knowledge of his tastes. Good, at least they wouldn't be bothered by overly attentive furniture. He poured some wine into the glass and leaned back into the soft cushioning of the sofa.

"So what is it you wanted to talk about?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

Raoul took a deep breath. There was a moment before he answered.

"What I'm about to say may seem strange to you. Especially since I've always scolded you about Riki."

Iason raised one brow, intrigued. "What is it, Raoul?"

"Katze," the other Blondie said shortly.

"What about Katze?"

"He... interests me. It seems he is very intelligent. He managed to decipher the problem my team of elite experts couldn't even begin to tackle. He is... haven't you ever have a thought that he is almost like one of us?"

Iason studied him, pondering at this. "No, as a matter of fact, I haven't."

Raoul made a little rumbling sound.

"Well, I have. And I was wondering if you could..." he stopped, hesitating again. "Iason, do you think you might hand him over to me?"

"Hand him over?" Iason managed to keep his voice steady and his face straight, but the words seemed ridiculous. "What do you mean?"

Raoul's eyes fell, fixing on the blue drink in his hands. He played with his glass.

"You still consider Katze your property, don't you?"

"Well, I would rather call him—my very close subordinate. Not a property anymore."

"But you didn't cancel his furniture ID, you once told me."

"Only because working for me, he still needs it. I'm still ascribed as a formal owner – because someone has to be, but I have no actual rights to his registration account. He's got most of them. We've changed it this way on my own request."

"I see," Raoul nodded thoughtfully. "But if someone wanted to... appropriate him, just like you appropriated Riki, you would deem it as an infringement of your rights to him, isn't that so? Riki didn't belong to anyone, but Katze, in fact, still does belong to you."

Iason frowned. Raoul's reasoning was becoming more and more interesting, but he decided not to ask questions. For now.

"If you put it that way, then yes," he allowed.

"So, if someone wanted to appropriate him, they would have to ask your permission. They would have to ask you to hand him over to them."

"I guess so. But Raoul, I wouldn't grant that permission. Katze is too valuable for me."

"Yes, I know," Raoul raised his eyes to Iason. The look in them was strangely intense. "But listen to me first. What I'm asking for doesn't concern work. You own him – all of him, but you have no interest in his private life. You make no use of it. So in fact it's like a wasteland in your possession. And I, on the other hand, am not interested in his work. I'm not going to interfere in your mutual business. He can still do what he has always been doing for you, while he belongs to me. And I assure you it won't affect his work in any way. So in fact my request costs you nothing."

For a while Iason silently sipped his wine, studying his friend with now unveiled interest. Raoul fidgeted uneasily under this gaze.

"I'm aware that it may nevertheless seem a serious detriment for you," he added. "I apologize for asking so openly for your property. If you want, I can compensate you for him. I can offer you a pet from one of the Center's newest collections."

Iason ignored it, still staring at the biologist.

"What do you want him for, Raoul?" he asked finally.

Raoul winced inwardly, hearing the expected question. And what was he supposed to say? After he had called Iason to arrange this meeting, he had considered numerous good answers and explanations. Now none of them seemed good enough.

"I'm just interested. I want to... have him."

"And what do you intend to do with him? He's a castrate. Too old for a furniture, for a pet... well, the concept is simply beyond the pale."

"I know, but I can assure you I'll find—a use for him." Raoul was aware that his words sounded ridiculous. Damn, he was ridiculous, but how else was he supposed to get what he wanted? Seeing his friend's skeptical gaze he sighed and decided to support with the facts. "Well, now when this hacker case arose, I think it would be even advisable that he stays close to me. After all, I'm the main involved here, not you."

Iason nodded. All right, so that was a point. The day before, when Raoul had told him about the result of Katze's inquiry, they both agreed that the dealer with his black market connections could prove very helpful further in the investigation. Iason had already ordered him to put aside less important matters and place this one on the top of his list. However...

However it was obvious that it wasn't the point of Raoul's sudden interest in Katze. Private life, he said. Iason cocked his head. His lips quirked in a smile.

"Are you thinking of having sex with him?"

Raoul twitched abruptly. For a moment his face took on an offended expression. Then the anger subsided giving way to some strange resignation. He heaved another sigh.

"I admit, what you told me about sex was quite—tempting."

Iason smiled, remembering their discussions on that topic. There had been quite a few of them. Starting with Raoul asking him what was so special about this 'sex thing' that he couldn't resist it. Then Iason would try to explain. And Raoul would refuse to understand.

"But no," the biologist stated firmly. "I have absolutely no intention of that. I'm still of the firm conviction that sex is highly inappropriate for the elite. Katze... is just a fascinating case. As for his age, I much prefer a man of his years than some immature adolescent. And his castration really doesn't matter for me."

Iason studied him for yet another moment, then he laughed in his light, haughty tone.

"Very well then, Raoul. If you want him, you can have him. Under one condition. I am not giving him to you yet. I am... lending him. Two months, and we'll see if his stay with you really doesn't affect his work. If it doesn't, he's yours for good. Oh, and don't trouble yourself with paying me back. I'm not interested in pets. One is quite enough," he snorted. "Treat it as a gift. I think the fun of watching the two of you together will be enough payment for me."