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accepted a cold guarana, while the girl opted for a rola. Cardenas, as usual, brewed himself an iced
coffee.
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"You should be safe now, Katla," he told her. "Using the information you gave us, we've brought in
nearly all of your father's most important associates along with a great many of the minor ones, and shut
down their scattered operations. The other bad people who were after you have taken note of that. As
best as we have been able to determine, it has caused them to rapidly lose interest in you. But the
Department of Social Resources people and my friends at the NFP are right: just to make certain, you'd
be safer and more comfortable living under a different name, in a different place."
"That's what we came to tell you." Fourhorses was clearly excited for the girl. "Genealogy managed to
track down an aunt and uncle she didn't even know she had. In New England. Small town, nice
environment. Everything's been checked out and rated secure. The couple has two children of their own;
a boy, fifteen, and a girl, fourteen. They've agreed to welcome Katla into their family. After a year, formal
adoption procedures will be initiated. I anticipate no problems. Katla will become Harmony Jean
Francis."
The girl ducked her head shyly. "I always liked singing harmony, but I never had much. Now I get tobe
Harmony. It's prettyvacan."
"I think so, too," he agreed. Color suffused Katla's cheeks or maybe it was hope.
He pondered a moment. "How would you like to meet an old friend of mine? Someone you can talk
with safely even in your new home in New England." At Fourhorses's look of alarm, he hastened to
reassure the social worker. "Don't worry. This will not compromise her new identity in any way."
"Sure." The girl eyed him curiously. "I'm game."
Rising from the couch, he directed her to follow him to the far side of the den. Seating her in the chair
that faced his desk, he stood next to her.
Picking up the vorec, he activated the tunnel and instructed the molly driver to accept open commands.
Then he handed the verbal input device to her. She was looking at him expectantly, more at home inside
a box than in someone's apartment. Leaning down and putting his mouth close to her ear, he murmured
something too low for Fourhorses to overhear. The social worker looked on uncertainly, her expression
reflective of her bemusement.
Katla listened intently, made a face, but finally nodded. Bringing the vorec to her lips, she repeated to the
waiting molly the command he had whispered to her.
"Enter Charliebo: dog."
The holomage that built in the tunnel was so full of life and synthesized expression that a stranger walking
into the room at that moment could have been forgiven for thinking it real. It could become more
authentic still, Cardenas knew, but it would not do so without provocation of a specific, specialized kind
that Katla soon-to-be-Harmony would hopefully never encounter. Leaning farther forward, he spoke into
the vorec.
"Charliebo, the person next to me is Ms. Harmony Francis. She's a good friend of mine. I'd like you to
be her friend, too."
The extraordinarily lifelike holomage of the big German shepherd gazed solemnly back at him. Then it
turned its attention to the girl, glowing tongue lolling loosely from the left side of its mouth, tail of
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shimmering crunch wagging briskly, regarding her out of eyes composed of incalculable accumulations of
intricately compiled ocular grams.
Katla was entranced. "What can he do?"
"You'd be surprised.I was surprised. I could tell you, but I'd rather let you experiment on your own.
Charliebo's very versatile.
He'll play with you, and keep youcompany, and even watch over you." He put a comforting, paternal
hand on her shoulder. "And you can have him with you whenever you want, wherever you go. Wherever
there's access to the Big Box, that's where you'll find Charliebo." He stepped back. "Why don't you two
get acquainted?"
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