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"I don't understand any of this,” Quartermain said. “Miles and Ida Bowman are—were the love story of the century. Besides, Miles was a bear of a man. Strong, muscular, good in a scrap. Ida was half his size. Beat him to death with a horseshoe? Rubbish.” He stopped suddenly and looked at Shad. “The run was all wrong. Have you looked into that?"

"What about the run?” asked Shad.

The fox glanced warily at the hover egg. “It didn't follow the planned route, did it, Don? The hounds and horses were supposed to follow the glade lane through Quik Grove. Have you seen where Miles was found?"

"Yes,” responded Shad, “but the horses follow the hounds, and the hounds follow you, right?"

"Not that time. I zigzagged down that lane and never got off it. Suddenly all the hounds were gone.” He looked at Shad. “You have GPS and wireless in that mech?"

"Yes."

"You'll see. The run was all planned out in advance, down to the last turn.” The fox sat, his tail around his legs, hunched his head forward, and bared his teeth. “I'm sending you the plan, as well as the performance record. I hit every mark exactly, in sequence, and on time.” The fox glanced at me. “We use the records to debrief the staff after each hunt."

"Why?"

"Constant improvement at Houndtor Down, inspector. Identifying weak areas and mistakes, sharpening up the challenge, polishing the act."

My partner nodded. “Got it, Archie."

"My run was cut short at the first turn, after leaving the grove. That's when I noticed none of those hounds were dripping hot slobber in my dust.” The fox froze for an instant, then fixed me with a beady-eyed stare. “I have a built-in image reader in my package. Once I realized something had gone wrong with the hunt, I tuned in and peeked through Champion's eyes. He was the only amdroid in the leaders. Miles's horse was already out of the grove, running down toward Becka Brook. Champion's emotional feed spilled into his vid. I was sure something terrible had happened. I didn't find out what until I was back in my den and tuned in the message Sabrina Depp posted for me."

"About Miles's death?” I asked.

"That, Lady Iva's arrest, and that the police wanted to talk to me. It's simply all so preposterous. Iva couldn't have killed Miles. You've got to get to Champion and download his recall bank."

"When you tuned in Bowman's horse, what did you see?” asked Shad.

"A scramble of terrible images.” He thought a second. “A horse hit by a lorry hauling toilets, horses horribly wounded and killed in a desert, horses falling and being blown apart by cannons—all of it at once, filled with deafening pain and panic.” The fox looked at me. “It was like looking at a horse's nightmare."

There was a scuffling sound, movement beyond the old bones. Quartermain jumped over the skeleton and vanished from view. Shad and I aimed sensors at each other. He dipped his front ring and whispered, “Recognize it? The horse hit by a truck hauling toilets?"

"Yes,” I answered. “Lonely Are The Brave, Kirk Douglas and Walter Matthau, nineteen sixties."

"Nineteen sixty-two. The desert thing might be from an old vid called Hidalgo,” he suggested.

"Horses dropping and being blown up could be from any of the old movies centered on the Crimea or the Napoleonic Wars."

"Charge of the Light Brigade, Errol Flynn,” said Shad. “I'll see if I can tune in Champion."

I tracked over next to the old bones and saw that beyond them was an opening between two of the foundation rocks that led to a burrow. I swiveled my sensor array in Shad's direction. “Any luck with the horse?"

"I can't get through."

"Put it off for now. I want to know the layout of all these burrows, Shad, and I want the mapping to be unobserved. Go on up to the cruiser and transfer over to a micro."

"Man,” he muttered. “The last time I went out in a micro I was swallowed by a grouper. You have any idea of the disgusting things fish eat?"

"Soon."

"Yes sir,” he answered with a sigh as he turned and flew out of the chamber the way we had entered.

I looked back at the skeleton. Archie Quartermain was skulking behind the ribcage. “My mate,” he said furtively. “Brought me mouse.” He licked his chops, panted for a brief moment, then said, “Still warm."

"Steady,” I cautioned.

"She's pregnant."

I was left speechless for a moment. At least foxes were getting it on. “Well, congratulations, you sly old ... Congratulations.” Time to return to the investigation. “Tell me, Mr. Quartermain. Where do you keep your body in stasis?"

"Body?” The fox paused long enough to glance at the floor and shake his head. “This is my body now. Don't keep anything in stasis."

"Well, what about your human body? Where is that?"

"Sold it. Seed money for the operation. Brought a good price. Ask Don. Archie was a young handsome fellow in good health. Brought almost two million."

"Mr. Quartermain, I have to ask about your own possible interest in your partner's death."

"Mine?"

"If Lady Ida is found guilty of Miles Bowman's murder, you stand to inherit quite a respectable sum, not to mention a very lucrative operation."

"Money. That's what you're talking about, isn't it? Money?"

"Of course."

The fox began pacing again, his nose sniffing at the chamber floor. “Mice,” he said as though to himself alone. “Mice are important. Mating, grubs, grass, eggs, gates, cubs, fast-fast legs, and chickens are important. Money: that's paper.” He abruptly turned and fled through that opening at the rear of the chamber. “The game,” he growled huskily as his voice faded. “The game is all!"

Archie's soliloquy on priorities concluded, I tracked out of the muddy burrow and called down the cruiser. Shad was in it just completing his transfer to the micro, a flat-black colored hover vehicle resembling a stealth lipstick, one end encrusted with instruments. After hosing out the mech, I went back to my meat suit and Shad darted off to map the burrow system. While Shad was occupied doing that, I went to the lodge.

* * * *

As evening approached, making everything dismally dark as well as wet, Shad and I were back in the cruiser, the vehicle parked at the skydock, our engrams back in our current selves. Shad was labeling the GPS tunnel map he had made. That done, he leaned back from the screen and said, “So, while I was grubbing in the dirt, you did a tour of the palace?"

"Yes."

"So? What was it like?"

I thought for a moment. “Good taste and great vision meet big money and unlimited energy."

The duck faced me and said seriously, “That sounds like approval."

"I confess, Shad, I was prepared to view the whole place as outmoded values wallowing in unlimited wealth, but it is quite well done. All the halls, rooms, great rooms, and the shopping center are stunningly beautiful, and the service is prompt, polite, and practically invisible. Did you know there are hunt clients and their families that live there all year?"

"Service?"

"Why, yes. I had a cream tea at one of the shops in the mall."