The sun beats down on my black jacket, bringing my internal temperature above optimum human levels. I flick on my built-in cooling, setting it to auto.

Beside me, Arun Kinduja wipes the sweat from his brow. "Explain to me again why we're here."

I flash my perky and annoying Lindsay smile. "You said you thought a visit to Super Annoying Funland would be awesome." I gesture at the families arguing, the children screaming, the bored costumed employees keeping order. An amusement park like TechnoTropolis is far from my idea of fun, but when duty calls, I answer.

"I said it might be more fun than gouging out my eyes. If we had kids—"

I turn a stunned look on him. Arun and I aren't even officially dating, and he's talking about children? I know he isn't really suggesting anything, but I'm playing a role. With a gasp, I clutch a dramatic hand to my chest. "You think about us having kids?" I flutter my eyelashes for good measure.

Arun's jaw drops, then he snaps it closed with an audible crack, his eyes narrowing. He wags a finger at me. "You almost got me. What's going on?"

A swift look assures me none of the adults standing in line with us are watching. The parents focus on their cranky, overexcited children or tune out completely. Guests without offspring in tow are mainly couples and completely self-absorbed. Plus a few herds of teens trying to out-stupid each other. None of them pay any attention to us. I pull a small packet from one of my pockets and hand it to him. "Put this on. Slowly! Don't draw attention to yourself."

He shakes out the fabric. "How'd you get a Quantum Quest Rumble jacket?"

"Don't ask questions," I hiss as we move closer to a partially hidden alcove with a rope across its entry. "Stand behind me and put it on." I nudge him into a convenient corner behind a fake column and step casually in front of him as he slides his arms into the sleeves. No one appears to be paying us any attention. "And I'm a little disappointed you recognized the jacket so quickly. Nerd."

"And proud of it. Now what?" He pulls the zipper tab to his throat.

I glance over my shoulder at him and roll my eyes as hard as I can. "Unzip it halfway—we're trying to look normal. And put this on." I hold a small card behind my back where he can grab it.

"We nerds zip up all the way." He ignores my fashion advice and takes the pass. "This is a static ID card. I haven't seen one of these in—well, outside a museum. Who uses these?"

"Super Annoying Funland uses them. Put. It. On."

"TechnoTropolis. This has your photo on it."

"I'm improvising. Don't let anyone get close enough to see it. I expected to be solo at this point." And I'm beginning to regret having deviated from my plan.

The line moves, and he steps forward. "Meaning what? You weren't going to bring me? Or you were going to ditch me?"

I shrug. "One or the other. But you might be useful." And I enjoy his company, but I'm not going to tell him that. Grabbing his hand, I press it against my bicep. "Escort me to that staff exit."

His gaze follows mine to the little alcove, and his brows come together. "We aren't riding?"

"Nope. I just did something egregious, and you're kicking me out."

"If you say so." He puts a hand on the small of my back, lifts the other to wave, and raises his voice. "Nothing to see here, folks! Move along!"

I wait until the three people who looked turn away, then thump him in the stomach. "Subtle."

His lips twists into a smirk. "You didn't say anything about being subtle."

"I thought 'don't draw attention to yourself' was pretty clear." I tap my wrist band against the door. The lock snicks in response. I push the door open and pull my companion through. "Nice abs, by the way." I flex my fingers, as if his muscles of steel bruised them. They didn't. Much.

He shoots his charismatic top-lev grin at me, then the door shuts, leaving us in darkness.

But not for long. I activate my holo-ring. The glow illuminates a short corridor, decorated to match the TechnoTropolis theme. At the end, we turn a corner, and the quilted red walls give way to bland beige. The carpet turns to brown plastek tiles, and low emergency lights glow green.

"When I invited you to fly with me, I knew you'd have some… unorthodox adventures. And I hoped I'd get to come along for the ride. But would you care to share our current goal? Mostly so I know what improv might be expected of me?"

I frown as we hurry along the dim hallway. "It's not really improv if you know what to expect." I stop at a locked door and pull out my tools. Pressing the activation pad against the lock plate, I start the cracking sequence, and the code runs. I have no idea how this thing works—I'm a field agent, not a gearhead like Triana or Arun. But I only need to know how to operate it.

The door clicks and whirs, then slides open. Bright light stabs our eyes, then my optical lenses adjust to the glare. Blinking away tears, I peer around the room, taking in the circle of armed men and women aiming weapons at me. At my back, Arun gasps.

I consider my options. If I was alone, my grav-belt's preprogrammed jump sequence would yank me to safety. But I can't leave Arun behind. I got him into this. And as I said, I enjoy his company.

"Agent Fioravanti, I was hoping you'd join us," a deep female voice says.

"Seriously? You couldn't think of anything more cliché to say?" I slowly lower my hands. "Did you learn that at evil villain school?"

Arun takes a step closer to me, putting one hand on my shoulder, the other still raised above his head. "What do we do? Surrender? Run? Call my lawyers?"

My eyes have adjusted to the light, and I give our adversaries a quick look. The circle of armed agents flicker and disappear, leaving only an attractive, dark-haired woman facing us. I clap softly. "Nicely done, Aretha. Those agents looked real." I glance back at Arun. "You can put your hands down. This is Aretha O'Neill."

"I know, right?" Aretha gestures to the empty room. "Even without the bright lights to dazzle your eyes, they were pretty convincing. A little app I picked up… in an undisclosed location." She steps forward, extending a fist toward my companion. "I don't believe we've met."

"Arun Kinduja." He slowly extends a hand to bump Aretha's fist. "O'Neill? Are you related to my cousin's new husband?"

"I'm related to a lot of people." Her gaze flickers over Arun, then back to me. "Has he been read in?"

I give a single, fast head shake. "Civilian. He's my ride." A part of me wants to think he's more than just my method of transportation, but I'm not admitting that to anyone.

Aretha's chin drops in a miniscule nod. She gives Arun another once-over, her head tilting. "Kinduja? How close to the top?"

"Of the family?" Arun glances at me for guidance.

"She can find out easily enough." I turn to Aretha. "Son of the current family head. But he's not the heir. His father's brother is R'ger. Your new sister-in-law's father."

Aretha takes a second to process this, then nods. "You're Triana's cousin. Does Ty know about this?" She makes a swirling motion with her hands, which could mean almost anything.

Aretha's brother Ty was my partner when we were young security agents, and we've worked together in the years since—especially protecting his now-wife, Triana. He also recently found out I'm a deep plant of the Commonwealth Central Intelligence Agency, or CCIA. I've told him nothing about his sister's clandestine employment. I reply to the part I want to answer. "Your brother knows I'm flying with Arun. He doesn't know I'm working with you." I stride across the room and stop beside a holo-terminal. "Did you manage to get into this thing?"

Aretha grinds her teeth. "No. The grinder is running, but it's not getting anywhere. I haven't been home in a long time. You got anything newer?"

Aretha is deep under cover and hasn't been to CCIA headquarters in literally years. Her family and friends believe she's a family practice lawyer, helping women escape destructive relationships. She takes a few cases, just to keep up the fiction. Relocating clients gives her the opportunity to travel. But in real life, she's completed missions in some of the most dangerous parts of the inhabited galaxy. In fact, we recently rescued her from Lewei's moon where a mission went bad. Now that I think about it, maybe Ty does know about Aretha's connection to the CCIA. He was there.

"I got something better than software. Although, I have that too." I gesture at Arun. "Meet my secret weapon."

Aretha's eyes drop half-closed as she gives Arun yet another once-over. I think she just likes looking at him. Who wouldn't? "This pretty boy is a secret weapon?"

I sweep my arm toward the interface. "Show her what you got, Pretty Boy."

Arun takes a step back, crossing his arms and glaring. "Why should I?"

Aretha's jaw drops, and I'm pretty sure my eyes pop out of my head. "Why?" I move closer, lowering my voice. "Because I asked nicely?"

"Believe it or not, 'show her what you got, Pretty Boy' is not asking nicely. There was no 'please,' and it wasn't a question."

I clench my fists and put them behind my back to reduce the temptation to bite a nail. Or punch someone. I am too used to working with Triana who was always happy to show off her programming skills. "Sorry, you're right. Please, could you help us? We need to break into this system, and you're the only one who can do it."

He looks at the ceiling as if petitioning the gods, then pins me with another glare. "That was better—although I can do without the 'you're my only hope' vibe—but I need some justification. Contrary to what you seem to believe, I don't go around hacking into systems just because a beautiful woman bats her eyelashes at me."

Aretha smacks her forehead and turns away, muttering something about amateurs. I hope she's referring to him, not me. I haven't been at this as long as she has, but I'm considered more than competent by any measure of the word. This little failure to communicate puts me in a bad light, though. Ignoring the other agent, I put a hand on Arun's arm. "You know I'm CCIA. This is official business. We need to get into that system."

He shakes off my hand. "Why didn't you say so?" He laces his fingers together and cracks his knuckles, then swipes open a holo-screen. "Let's see what we're working with." He flicks, taps, and slides through the screens, then opens an app on his holo-ring and tosses it at the system interface. "My passcode cracker should take care of this."

A face appears between Arun and the system. It shifts, individual features changing one data-point at a time so quickly it seems to melt from one face to another. The screen turns green, and another input page pops up. Letters and numbers populate the empty field, ticking rapidly like a counter as it tries every conceivable combination. Then it switches to an audio input, and whispered phrases, so low I can't understand them, follow in quick succession.

"If there's a DNA sampler, I can't help you." Arun turns to raise a brow at Aretha. "I don't have a fake for that."

"This system isn't that well protected." She checks her chrono, one foot tapping silently against the ratty-looking carpet. "How long—"

The system pings.

"That long." Arun gives Aretha his own once-over. "You're welcome."

She waves him away, not responding to his dig. "I got it from here. See you next time."

"That's our cue to leave." I pull the door open and peek out. "Remember, if anyone asks, you're an employee escorting me out of the park. I'll pretend to be ill. I don't want them taking us to security. There might be questions I can't answer. Let's go."

Arun gives Aretha another glare, then steps into the hallway. He waits until I exit, then grabs my arm in a firm grip. "Which way? We could go back to the ride…"

That surprises a laugh out of me. "You really like that stuff?"

He straightens his back, facing me belligerently. "Yes. I'm a nerd, remember? And I paid for those tickets."

I smother another laugh. TechnoTropolis tickets are expensive, but Arun is a Kinduja. His breakfast probably cost more than my last month's income. His frugality is kind of cute. I duck back into the control room. "Can you clean up after us?"

Aretha frowns, then understanding clicks in her face, and she waves me out. "Yes. Civilians."

"What was that all about?" Arun follows me down the hallway.

I take him through the maze of backstage areas, pausing before opening the last door. "She's wiping our exit from the cams and files. If anyone checks on us, they'll notice we disappeared from the ride line, but they won't see where we went. But no one will look unless we screw up. Take that off." I nod at his Quantum Quest Rumble jacket.

"Can't I keep it?" He strokes the fabric wistfully before handing it to me.

"I'll get you a real one." I take the flimsy pile of fabric and flick my lighter. The jacket poofs in a cloud of vapor. Then I open a door. "This way to the front of the line."