Free The Forever Drug by Lisa Smedman

skin, the subdermal speakers produced an incredible variety of synthesized sounds: from a rumbling mechanical grind-guitar to a high, clear flute; from the haunting cry of a whale to the tinkling of bells.
    Music Man had obviously moved up in the world if he was busking at the train terminal. Via Rail charged an exorbitant licensing fee of its buskers. Music Man must have been making good nuyen these days.
    I spared him a brief nod as I hurried past. He answered by running a finger in an oval along his inner arm, producing a wail reminiscent of a siren. Then he gave me a cymbal-crash wink.
    I walked briskly through the terminal, searching for Jane and trying not to call attention to myself as my eyes darted back and forth. I looked for her in the lineups, at the automated booths where tickets were sold, in waiting lounges, at telecom booths, at fast-food stands, and on the maglev platforms themselves. The latter were a confusion of noise and movement, filled with flowing waves of passengers. The high-speed trains slid in and out of the station on a cushion of air, filling the high-ceilinged platform area with an eerie whistle that was too high for ordinary human ears to hear. The sound made the hair on the tips of my ears quiver, and set my teeth on edge.
    I was getting a few looks from people in the station. The Via Rail security guards gave me the once-over, eyeing my bare feet and twine belt and trying to decide if I was here to cajole a few credits from passengers. It helped that the jeans and shirt were new. It made the oversize clothes look more like a fashion trend. I just hoped the guards wouldn't ask what train I was boarding and demand to see my ticket.
    If I'd been carrying any credit on me, I'd have purchased a ticket for a city close by, just to look legit. But I'd left my credstick at home when I changed into wolf form. The security guards would quickly conclude that a SINless person like me was a beggar, and would hustle me out of the station pretty frigging fast.
    I returned to the main lobby, feeling desperate. I couldn't see or smell Jane anywhere. Then, just when I figured she must have already boarded a train, I spotted her emerging from a single-cubicle washroom. I cursed my luck; if I'd caught up with her a few seconds earlier, I might have slipped in after her and spoken to her alone, found out what was going on.
    I approached her as casually as I could, nodding and smiling when I got close. Her brown eyes glanced at me for a moment, then slid away. There hadn't been a single flicker of recognition in them. I bit down on my disappointment and strolled past her, not wanting to give myself away yet. I wanted to find out whether she was still with the man who'd drugged Haley.
    She was.
    He was sitting in a plastiform chair near the washroom. Tall and slender, he had shoulder-length, raven-black hair pulled back from his face with a gold hair clip, revealing the pointed ears of an elf. He was dressed in expensive clothes, like a corporate exec: a black wingtip-collar shirt under a black pinstriped suit with golden threads. The pattern matched his hair, which was streaked with metallic gold, and there was also gold on his chest: a sword-shaped tie pin. His eyes were gold too; either cybernetic implants or tinted vanity lenses. A carefully groomed mustache and beard framed his lips, which were pressed together in a firm line. I could tell from his expression and the cold look in his metallic eyes that this was a man who took everything in life seriously.
    I was close enough to him now to smell his scent: the wool of his fashionable suit, the cologne he wore. I could also catch a faint trace of whatever drug he'd used on Haley coming from one of his suit pockets. I was glad he hadn't used it on Jane. I'd have been unable to follow them here if he'd carried or driven her to the station.
    The elf rose to his feet with a fluid grace. He stood firm-footed on the ground in a ready stance, his narrowed eyes