Free Tails You Lose by Lisa Smedman Page B

resulting damage would mean you'd never be able to sleep again. You would eventually die from the physical debilitation caused by sleep deprivation. I wouldn't wish that kind of madness on anyone."
    Alma was only half listening. She wasn't angry at Hu for not telling her about the cranial bomb earlier—she understood the need for that level of security on a research project as secretive as this one. If it had been Alma who had been extracted, instead of Gray Squirrel, the bomb would have ensured the project's security. Alma would willingly have paid the price. What angered her was that Hu didn't seem to realize that.
    She lifted her eyes to meet those of Mr. Lali. Her voice nearly faltered when she saw the disappointment and contempt written on his face. Until today, she'd seen nothing but a father's loving pride in those eyes. He'd often praised her as one of the best counterextraction experts in the city. She was a loyal member of the PCI family—but now she was being disowned. It stung.
    Mr. Lali waved a hand, dismissing her. She rose to her feet, the move-by-wire system automatically compensating for the shakiness she felt. Hu walked around the table, took Alma's elbow lightly in one cybered hand, and steered her toward the door.
    Out in the hallway, she stood meekly while Hu activated the elevator's maglock. The earlier delay she'd faced in accessing the boardroom's maglock confirmed her guess: her palm prints had already been erased from the PCI building-access database.
    As they waited for the elevator that would take her down to the lab where her headware memory would be erased, Hu leaned toward Alma. His words were pitched low enough that she had to activate her cyberear's amplification system to hear them, and his lips barely moved. He obviously didn't want the building's securicams to pick up what he was saying.
    "Spitting on the drone was stupid, Alma," he whispered, "and you're a smart lady—too smart to have done that. When I reported that to Lali, he wanted to terminate you immediately—and I use that word literally, since he was talking about activating the cranial bomb—but I persuaded him to give you a chance to figure out what's really going on here. He agreed to four days—you have until noon on February 28. I just hope you have the intelligence and resourcefulness to find out who our unauthorized intruder really was in so little time. If you manage to discover anything, give me a call."
    Alma glanced sideways at Hu, and saw that his face was carefully neutral, his eyes firmly on the elevator doors. She was shocked that Mr. Lali had considered activating the cranial bomb before hearing her protests of innocence, feeble though they were. She was relieved that Hu still believed in her—or, at least, wanted to believe in her. He'd just given her permission to continue her duties—unofficially, and without any of the corporate resources or team support that she was used to.
    Alma was on her own, for the second time in her life.
    She acknowledged Hu with a nod and stepped into the elevator ahead of him. As it descended, she thought back to the hexagram she had cast that morning—Innocence—and the overall judgment the I Ching had given her: A great mystery must unfold , or a misunderstood part of your nature must come forth before progress can he made . A proper questioning attitude and receptive frame of mind bring success . Though you do not seek the innocent yourself , the innocent seek you , because your aspirations correspond .
    The last part was the most puzzling—and the most frustrating. Alma liked to act, not to wait. She could be as patient as a stalking tiger when an assignment demanded it, but there was too much yang in her soul for her to wait passively for answers to come to her. She would follow the course of action the I Ching recommended and remain open to information from new sources, but in the meantime she would do whatever it took to discover who had framed her—and why.
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