Free Idolon by Mark Budz Page B

saliva cooling on her skin. She should have worn gloves.
    He appraised her, arching one brow inquisitively. "A beta version of the new ware, I presume."
    She ran a hand down the front of the dress ... relishing her role as model even as she mocked it, "Do you like it?"
    He applauded her with a smile. "My compliments to the fashioneer. Does it meet spec?"
    "Can I get you anything? Coffee. Tea?" She refused to let him dictate the pace of the conversation.
    "Is that a no?"
    She moved toward the safe haven of her desk. "It’s a courtesy, Giles."
    Atherton trailed impatiently after her. "I didn't come all the way up here to stand on ceremony, Ilse"
    She sighed, as if indulging a child, then ran a fingertip along one Sphinx-bordered edge of the desk. "It's early in the test cycle."
    "What does that mean?"
    "Patience. "
    "By now you should have some preliminary data from the clinical trial."
    Ilse turned to face him from behind her desk, fingers pausing delicately on polished ebony. "We're still in the process of 'skinning the first group of test subjects and acquiring feedback."
    Atherton leveled his round wire-frames at her, sighting down the barrel of his nose. "But so far the interface is functional? Stable?"
    "Uri's keeping a close eye on the situation. Rest assured, if there's any indication of a problem, I'll let you know."
    Three years ago, Atherton Resort Hotels had conntracted with IBT for an OEM 'skin, an original equippment manufacture that would support peer-to-peer shareware. Not only would users be able to philm themselves via standard download, they would be able to xfer images between one another. Combined with a rootkit neural interface, the result would be a shared sensory environment.
    It had been a challenge. Atherton had provided the third-party wetronics for the new electronic skin. Adapting and integrating them into the existing  graphene substrate of embedded nanofibers and quantum dots had been a nightmare. It had also, almost certainly, been illicit. Ilse felt certain the tronics were of foreign manufacture, probably blackmarket, and had been illegally imported.
    Smuggled. There was no sense sugarcoating her involvement or the queasy legal ramifications.
    That was one area where Atherton held the upper hand. From the beginning, she had made a conscious decision to assume that the project involved military or government interests and that a blinde eye would be turned to any trade restrictions or national security violations. But she hadn't asked. Officially, she didn't know the third-party ware wasn't legal. She didn't want to know. Her only interest was in the financial and technological benefits IBT would realize from the project. Beyond that she didn't care. It was none of her business.
    "You'll keep me apprised," Atherton said.
    "Of course."
    "I'd like to review the preliminary data as soon as it becomes available," he said, brushing aside her reeassurance.
    "Certainly."
    By the way" — he tipped his head at her dress — "how’s the new line progressing?"
    The question took her by surprise. "Fine. On schedule."
    "Do you have a release date?"
    She flapped a vague hand. "General availability is in few weeks. Why?"
    He shrugged. "Just curious." He seemed almost embarrassed.
    Her gaze sharpened. "You wouldn't be trying to wheedle a pre-GA copy? Would you?"
    "Of course not." He held up both hands and beat a hasty retreat. "Nothing of the sort."
    She let a sly smile, bordering on conspiratorial, into place. "I may be able to arrange it."
    He shook his head, then quickly made his way to the door, as if he had overstayed his welcome. "I'll be in touch."
    She nodded and watched him leave, wondering what had he neglected to tell her.
     
    _______
    Giles Atherton emerged from the IBT building ... and found himself caught in a smart mob on Pacific Avenue. One of those crowds that suddenly formed, for no apparent reason, around an event.
    Typically they were the result of advertising — some biochemically or