There was some lawyerly discussion and negotiation and paperwork, but it took only a matter of hours for Janni to get evaluated and relieved of handcuffs and signed on as a consultant for that specific case. Far too little time, that was. Who has Puce already ticked off?

At least, she thought her target was TamLin’s boss. She’d tracked someone from the somewhen she was in to the somewhen she was visiting, and whoever it was hopped universes far more often than anyone should. Puce was the only one she knew of who was had the knowledge, inclination, and incentive to do such a thing.

If a man wanted to play god, he could hardly do so in proximity to a grade-black sensate. Grade blacks like TamLin could even detect when a should-be-there bio-identity wasn’t showing. It was problematic enough to jump around such a person, but TamLin wasn’t the type to care about that sort of problem. If this was his boss, he’d surely noticed that the man was hopping somewhens. TamLin just didn’t think enough on things like that to realize the implications or to bother to tell her.

Puce—if it was Puce that she was tracking—surely hopped somewhens in order to hide something worse than the shit TamLin already knew about and was ignoring, and that usually meant a person was playing god.

She scowled in annoyance. Things would’ve been so much easier if he’d just told her and she could’ve set up a net to catch Puce mid-…whatever method he was using to cross somewhens. A portal, probably. Enslaving a jumper gave too many openings for the master to ‘accidentally’ end up dead.

The public security officer—detective?—who was her native contact for this somewhen returned to the interrogation room, carrying a cardboard tray with two cups, lids, stirrers, and some sugars and creamer. He set his burden on the table, then unwrapped the lanyard from his forearm and slid it across the table to her.

Janni left the lanyard on the table and fiddled with the plastic identity card that was attached—her photo and “Janis Keller, Civilian Consultant” was followed by an ident number.

“That’ll give you access to files for this particular case,” he said, “and your ID will be logged for whatever you work on and help with.”

The card would also, she sensed, track her movements. What did they call the technology in this somewhen? GPS?

Whatever it was, it was easy enough to block. If she wanted or needed to.

“Your access at this time pertains specifically to this particular case, involving the suspected illegal immigrant engaging in illegal experimentation. Efforts to interfere with, influence, or affect other cases, active or not, may result in the revocation of all clearance and a return to the status you had when we first met.”

Handcuffs and all. Message received.

“Any questions?”

What was his name, what did they plan for her after she helped them, what would they let her do to their mutual target, would they grant vacation visas for a jumper from another somewhen, when would she be offered that coffee and how would they respond to her answer…

Fighting the urge to smirk at the ridiculousness of his open-ended offer for inquiry, she kept her gaze on the plastic card. She ran it through her fingers and tapped it twice against the table. “My name has two n’s, not one.”

Silence answered her.

After three seconds, she glanced up—and her point of contact looked amused. “I’ll make a note to have it fixed if we hire you again, sometime.”

“Not now?” she asked archly.

He kept his body still, but his humor showed in the edges of his eyes and lips. “Consider it deniability. Your friend can get convinced you’re some version of yourself other than the one he knows.”

“He isn’t my friend,” she said dryly.

They exchanged a mutual sly smile.

The man turned back to the tray with the drinks. “I wasn’t sure how you took your coffee, so I brought sugar and creamer.”

Janni didn’t reach towards the tray. “I appreciate the thought.”

His glance took in her hands, still fiddling with the ident card. “Ah. You don’t drink coffee.”

“‘Allergic’s the easiest way to put it.” Though that wasn’t quite right. She could have as much caffeine as she wanted. It just lessened her control—and she was a strong enough merger that slip-ups could cause…problems.

He paused in the middle of lifting his own coffee for a sip, glancing from the cups to her in clear question. Considerate of him.

“It’s a matter of consumption, not proximity. I don’t process stimulants the same way you do. Enjoy it all you like.”

“Huh.” He took a swig. “We have tea or hot cocoa—or wait. Those have caffeine, too. What can I get you? I know there’s water.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” She put the lanyard around her neck and made sure the identity card was face-up. “So what am I to call you, precisely?”

He was relishing that coffee to a degree that made her wonder if he was on a double shift. “Agent Samstag.”

“That’s what your friends call you?” she teased.

“We aren’t friends,” he replied immediately, but with good humor in his eyes.

“Not yet.”

“That would be unprofessional.” He glanced pointedly at the mirror.

Yes, yes, they were still being observed and recorded. She didn’t particularly care, for her own sake…but maybe his organization didn’t look to kindly upon its members flirting with—she double-checked how her ident classified her—‘civilian consultants’.

She gave him a little smile and got up and let him show her the door. She reached for the second coffee as he returned his own coffee cup to the tray and picked it back up.

“I can carry that for you,” she said.

“Not friends,” he said dryly as he opened the door—to a scowling man whose salted hair and wrinkles about the eyes called old enough to be a grandfather. “Sir.”

“Agent Samstag,” the man said brusquely. “I understand you’re the one behind getting a civilian assigned to assist on a high-clearance case. We like our consultants alive, Sam—”

“I’m not precisely a civilian,” Janni cut in, with a polite and pleasant smile.

“That so?” He glared at her, doubtless used to intimidating the information he wanted out of folks.

She kept smiling.

He harrumphed. “Who’d you fight for?”

“Nobody you’d be familiar with.” Admitting her ability to interfere with their tech would be unwise, unless she wanted to risk ending up with someone trying to dissect her. “I’ve already tackled both biologically and technically modified persons this week.”

Well, she’d been captured by Nev and she’d sabotaged the tech of Raleigh’s people, but that much forthrightness wouldn’t help her case, here. If TamLin wanted to leave his boss capable of hunting him, fine, but she wasn’t about to ignore the others the man was hurting.

This man scowled.

Janni kept smiling.

Agent Samstag plucked his coffee from the tray, handed the rest to the man—his boss?—and guided her on past.