"It served its purpose.  And I'm not the one wearing the uniform," he pointed out.

Julie glanced down at her old red and black Visitor outfit, and shrugged.  "I seem to have lots left over from the War.  Don't know why I kept them.  Momentos, I guess."

"Like scalps," Tyler suggested.

"Funny man."

They were quiet a moment, while Julie's thoughts returned to her problem.  She glanced over at him.  "I'm worried, Ham.  This is not like Don.  He'd contact me if he could."  She smiled tightly.  "The police don't know him like I do, though.  They treat me like an hysterical housewife.  The bst I got was a pat on the head and the promise of a missing persons bulletin being issued after seven days had elapsed.  It's over ten now, so I guess they've issued one, for all the good it'll do.  I even considered a private eye, but then... then I thought of you."

Julie turned away and stared out the window, hand to her mouth, trying to control her reaction. She hated being out of control, but hadn't counted on the strain she'd been under the past ten days and the sudden memories evoked by Tyler's presence.  The combination seemed to be quite debilitating.

"Julie," Tyler was saying, "I can't promise my help will be any better than the law.  It may even be worse."  He smiled wryly, mainly because she was still turned away from him and couldn't see his expression.  "I'm not exactly a spring chicken any more, you know. But I'll give it my best shot.  Count on that."

Julie turned back, mustering a smile from somewhere.  "Thank you, Ham, I really -- "

"Don't thank me yet," he interrupted stiffly, but his expression softened slightly as he added, "It's not necessary between friends."

Julie's smile was genuine and a twinkle entered her eye as she said, "I may have to hug you to express my gratitude, then."

Tyler gave her a speculative look.  "I'll settle for dinner," he suggested.

"Done!"
 
 

Eleven year old David Tyler sat with head in both hands, contemplating his sister's culinary efforts with solemn brown eyes.  Another masterpiece in the making.  He was often party to CT's cooking, either willing or coerced, and made sure he got a decent payment for it, too.  Neither parent had cottoned onto the fact that it was he who put the idea into CT's fierce but guileless head that she demand payment for the cooking she so often did.  It was a fair trade -- a few bucks for an edible home-cooked meal, and he got his cut too.  No harm in that.  He passed over the sifter, which CT employed vigorously, showering both of them and a good deal of the floor in flour.

"Nice one, Ceets," he said sourly, and slid off the stool to get a broom, brushing at his ju-jitsu suit without noticeable effort.  He gave up sweeping after treading on the third tail of the dozen or so cats milling around his feet, and headed for the fridge to feed them.  He was at once the object of intense devotion.

"So what's for dinner?" he asked, skilfully fielding bowls and animals from the bench.

"Uhh.. soup d'jour."

"D'what?"

"You'll love it," CT assured her younger brother with a sniff.  David stared suspiciously at her, knowing that CT always assumed that grown-up maternal air when she was trying to put one over on him.

"It's probably gonna be good for me," he said darkly.

"... Stir-fry Chinese with noodles to follow," CT swept on, "and baked rice pudding for dessert.  Good huh?"

"Another four hour job."

"Nahhh.  Two, tops."

David sighed.  "I'm hungry now."

"So do like the ad says -- grab an apple."

He pulled a face.  "You're worse than Mom."

CT pulled her own face, which was still covered in flour and a few other ingredients, when their mother arrived home from her recent trip away with the usual excess of supermarket items (being a compulsive Buyer-of-Things-she-Didn't-Need-but-which-were-on-Special), dumped the goodies, kissed both of her children, and flew out to the surgery to check up on her patients and prepare for the evening surgery.

"Welcome home, Mom," David said faintly in her wake.

CT grinned.  "Ya gotta be tough to grow up around here," she drawled in her best John Wayne.

"Don't I know it."

"C'mere an' give your big sister a hug."

"Not on your life, flour-features!"

David nimbly ducked his sister's advances and scooted off outdoors to commune with the ducks on the pond.  CT's laughter floated after him, but he didn't mind.  The ducks needed watching.  CT was threatening to try out a new recipe on one of them, and though he knew she'd never really hurt them, well, a person could be too careful.
 
 

"Sounds like the boss is back," she said, "Better get the kettle on.  Two spoons of coffee... "

"I know, I know.  Two spoons of coffee, milk in first, then water, don't stir."  Obediently, Dermott McArdle, vet nurse and surgery secretary, went out to the kitchen.

"Yo, Bosslady," Jeremi lifted the dog on the table into her arms and took him out to recovery.

Alex beamed at her fellow vet.  "Hi, Jeri.  I just got back.  Thought I'd see how our patients are doing."

"Fine.  How was the conference?  How'd your speech go down?  Better have been brilliant, you practised it on us long enough -- hey, LOVE the T-shirt!!"

Alex mentally edited Jeremi's rambling speech patterns -- she was quite used to it by now -- and stepped back to properly display her new top.  It was a cartoon still of a man and a woman with caption: "Darling, we'll have to get rid of the children -- the animals are allergic to them.".

"Great, isn't it!  I spotted it in San Francisco during the conference, and cracked up.  It's just so... me.  Nicholas didn't quite cotton on to why it was so funny, but he bought it for me anyway."

"Nicholas!"  Jeremi caught onto that immediately, wriggling her eyebrows suggestively.  "So tell your Aunt Jeri all about it."

"Nothing to tell," Alex pulled a face at her colleague.  "He's a friend.  I met him at the con.  He's a vet."

"No!  You don't say?"  Jeri drawled, then laughed at Alex's look of exasperation, leaping forward to hold the door open as Dermott came through juggling a tray of coffee cups.

"Over there, Titus," she gestured, mostly so she could use her pet name for him.  Dermott grimaced and suffered it, then nodded hello to his boss.

"Welcome home, Alex.  Have you come to see how Flat is doing?"

"Flat?"

Jeremi nodded at the patient she had just brought inside.  The puppy's tail thumped against the wire cage in response to the attention.  "You remember the musical family -- "

"Dog Major, cat Minor," nodded Alex, who had a memory like a steel trap for her patients, but not their owners.  She then twigged and let out a strangled howl.  "Flat!  That's awful!  The owners are in some sort of orchestra, aren't they?"

"Cellists," supplied Dermott helpfully.

"Figures."

Jeremi coughed for attention, her raised eyebrows clearly asking if it was all right to go on now?  Alex grinned and graciously waved her the floor.

"Thank you.  They found this little feller on the side of the road, and brought him in to have him put down."  Jeremi grinned.  "I gave them a patented Alex Bailey 'Evil Look #301' and their boy decided he wanted to keep him if I could pull him through."

"I suppose the kid thought up that name?"

"Didn't think it was me did you? asked Jeri, offended.  Alex gave her a look which said she wouldn't put it past the young vet, and further retorts were put to rest by a phone call.  Dermott answered it while Alex ran an expert eye over the pup.  He seemed to be recovering well enough, though probably would have a permanent limp.  Nicholas, she thought, might have avoided tat -- he was a bone and limb specialist -- but it wasn't a bad job, nonetheless.  Would have been better if people weren't so damned careless in their Transports...

"It's Guthrie," Dermott was saying, "His horse has gone lame."

"Tell him -- "

"No, I'll take it," Alex cut in.  "I'm looking forward to getting back to the practice.  Besides, you know how obnoxious Guthrie can be.  And you're too soft with him."

"Not like the old flint-jaw Bailey, huh?  Sure thing, Bosslady, you're welcome to him.  I'll stay here and do the public relations."

"Good," Alex grunted.  "We could use it."  Alex swept through the house to collect her bag, waving to David playing with the ducks (still trying to train them to fetch, she noticed) and paused briefly in the kitchen to speak with CT.

"I'll be back a little later, hon.  Sorry to be dashing out again so soon... mmm, that smells good.  Not gonna cost much, is it?"

CT opened her mouth to answer but her mother was gone again.  The girl shook her head, eyeing the bowl of raw meat marinating in soy sauce.   It certainly didn't smell good, at least not yet, and as to the question of payment, well, that depended on how long it took, and how much she could bargain down David for his 'cut'.  Wiping a floury strand of hair from her eyes, she set back to work.

Tyler saw Alex's transport rise quickly to 20 metres and shoot off into the distance as his transport (styled after his much-loved BMW at great expense) made a lazy descent into the Tyler-Bailey landing zone.  He wondered if it was Jeri or Alex herself, who was due back from her vet conference sometime yesterday, then dismissed the thought as irrelevant and took Julie Parrish-Lawton into the house.

Inside, he went through the usual routine of side-stepping sundry animals, reflexively stepping over the cat, beside the squirrel, hovering his foot a moment while the other cat scooted out and placing it down to miss the porcupine by a fraction.  It was all done without much conscious thought, so practised was he.  Then he tripped over the luggage Alex had left in the hallway.

"Jesus," he swore, "ALEX!  Move your god-damned bags!!... ah, shit... "  Tyler fended off a welcoming puppy who was vigorously licking Master's face and shedding pale hairs all over his dark suit, which he'd worn under the janitor's outfit.  Tyler pushed the animal rudely away, kicked Alex's bags to one side and glared down the hallway trying to spot his wife.  "Alex!!!"  He heard laughter.

"You always this bad tempered when you come home?" Julie wanted to know.  Her small smile managed to thaw his mood a little.

"Only when I nearly break my neck in the hallway. Come on through."

"Hi Dad!  Oh, Julie, great!!"  CT burst out from behind the counter, ready to give the old family friend a big hug.  Julie didn't visit often, and kept in touch mostly by Christmas cards, but Dad spoke well of her and that was enough to endear her to CT.  Tyler managed to catch his daughter by the shoulders before she got flour and assorted spices all over Julie.

"Where's your mom?"

"Oh, she came and went.  Saw her for about 30 seconds."  CT shrugged.  "You know mom."

Tyler grunted and cast an eye over the ruin of his kitchen.  "What're you making?"  There were several unidentifiable mounds on the benchtop.  Much as he enjoyed his daughter's cooking, he always tried to avoid actually seeing her in action.  It somehow always took the edge off his appetite.

"Soup, Chinese, and rice pudding," CT said, giving him the Readers Digest rundown.  "Should be ready about 8:30."

"Hmm... "  he checked his watch.  5:30.  "Tell you what, kiddo, you save me some leftovers for breakfast, okay?  Julie and I have to talk business so it might be better if we went out.  Tell your mom I'll be in later, okay.  And tell her to shift her bags."

CT's face betrayed her disappointment, and Tyler ruffled her hair affectionately.  "Hey, Sprout, cheer up.  It's important, or I wouldn't be missing out on a night at Chef CT's, would I?"

"I guess not," she sighed.  Tyler planted a kiss on her forehead, belatedly realizing what it'd do to his face.  CT stifled a giggle at the flour-white clown's mouth it formed and, sighing heavily himself, Tyler wiped it away with his sleeve.

"Hang on a minute, Julie, I'll have to change."  He stoically ignored her amusement at his expense and disappeared towards the bedroom.  When he reappeared, spruced up in smart casuals (all dark colours, of course) David had come inside to 'check out the action' and was pointing out all the ducks to Julie and singling them out by name and personality.

"That's Guinevere.  She's not so smart as Kay but she's a good layer and loves tomatoes.  Sir Tristan there's a bully and is always stealing food off the others but Arthur's got her pegged.  That's why we call him Arthur.  He's our best drake.  I've almost got him trained to fetch... "

CT made a scornful sound, which David carefully ignored.

"Ready to go Julie?" asked Ham, smiling at his sons whims.

Ham thought she looked a little less tense for her visit with his children, which made him feel proud and guilty at the same time: proud of the way they were growing up, and guilty that he had not been contributing to said growing up as much as he should recently.  He shrugged off this line of thinking:  one problem at a time.

The restaurant was fairly busy for a Wednesday night, but they had no trouble getting a table, being on intimate terms with the maitre'd after a looooooong association.  The maitre'd, usually cheerful and friendly, seemed a bit stiff as he led them to large, well-lit table in the middle of the restaurant, dropped two menus into their laps and departed with a terse word about wine lists.

Tyler raised an eyebrow at Julie, who grinned at him from a good 2 metres away, and said,

"Subtle, isn't he?"

"I forgot this restaurant is Alex's favourite," he said sourly.  Not much was going right today.

"He probably thinks you're having an affair," she tried whispering covertly but it came out as a stage whisper and Tyler glared at her.

"Keep it down."

"How?  We need two tin cans and a long string."

Tyler 'hmphed' his agreement and toyed with the stem of a water glass, giving her a calculating look over the top of it.  "And if I was having an affair, you'd be the first to know."

Julie raised her own glass in acknowledgement of their history, but did not take the bait.  Her pensive expression prompted him to clear his throat and change the subject.

"Right.  We've covered the obvious leads and come up empty.  What I need from you now is information."

"Information?"

"You said Dan was working on a project for the lizards?"

"He wasn't strictly employed by them -- he was part of the Mars Project, working in the agricultural science section.  He was trying to cultivate a wheat hybrid to be grown under Martian conditions."  Julie spread her hands.  "What's so mysterious about that?"

"I don't know.  Can you remember anything else about the project?  People he worked with?  Anything he might have said about it?"

Julie shook her head.  "We... didn't talk much about work -- busy, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Tyler said, wondering if it was a common problem in relationships these days.

"His lab was -- " she shook her head angrily " -- is attached to the Mars Project complex in Colorado.  He said the research labs there were the best in the world; he was so happy to be on the project, he was gonna make a difference."

She choked off the sentence, took a moment to get herself under control.  Tyler gave her that time, then prompted gently:  "Did he ever mention colleagues?  Friends he had at work?  It doesn't have to be important.  Just people we can follow up."

Julie shook her head hopelessly.  "I'm just not sure.  He has a few friends.  They're all in Colorado.  Our friends aren't the same any more, since he started commuting."

"It's somewhere to start, anyway," he assured her.  "I'll send someone out to talk to the staff.  Maybe his friends there know more of his recent habits."

Julie's eyes became despairing.  "Yes," she said after a moment, "They probably would know more than me."  Tyler felt awkward, not knowing what to say.  "We really love each other," Julie continued after a moment, "I think... we just don't know each other any more."

The thought came unbidden to his mind that at least she knew she still loved him.  He found it hurt to consider that, so he shoved it away and patted her hand across the table.

"We'll find him," he promised.
 
 

Sighing, CT did so and snatcher her lunch up from the counter, tossing David's to him across the room.

"What've you made today?" he asked his sister with a grimace.  Although her cooking lay at the opposite end of the culinary spectrum to his mother's, CT had the distressing tendency to... experiment.  "Hope it isn't avocado again.  It's slimy.  And green.  Yecch."

"Nope.  Peanut butter and potato crisps."

David grinned.   Much better.  Alex didn't think so, but let it pass.  At least CT made the lunches.  And at two bucks a day it was way cheaper than the school canteen.

"OK, kids.  Have a good day...  hey, do you know what time your father got in last night?"

CT shrugged.  "He went out with Julie for dinner... "

"I think it was about 1am," David put in,  "I heard the transport."

"Hmm... He went in early today, too."

"Yeah."  CT slung her bag over her shoulder.  "He tossed me out of the bathroom at six.  Said he head to meet Julie."

"Come on, CT," David urged, tugging her out the front door, "we're gonna miss the hover-bus if you don't move it."

"Bye Mom!"

"Bye CT, bye David!  Have a good day.  BEHAVE YOURSELVES!" she yelled after them, somewhat ritually, as the two disappeared at a trot down the road.

Alex put down the text book she'd been holding, letting her finger slip out of its place as she frowned and took off her large square reading glasses, staring thoughtfully after her children.  Ham had better be behaving himself too.  She hadn't even seen him since she got back.  Then she quashed the thought.  It wasn't as if she'd been exactly a model of virtue herself lately.

She shrugged and stared at her watch.  Must be time for another coffee.  Then hit the books for a few hours for that paper on feline immune deficiency.  At 10am she was due to see Guthrie and his horse again, and this time she'd make sure the animal was treated properly, whether she had to forcibly remove it from his property or stage a sit-in.
 
 

"This is all we've got?"

Tyler nodded.  "Not much, I know.  But there has to be some clue somewhere.  Take someone with you and check out Colorado.  Find out about Dan Lawton, and any of his colleagues or friends.  Use the fake CIA ID's if you have to, anything.  Cover every angle you can find."

The lithe woman nodded, tucking the folder under her arm.  "Sounds serious."

"Just do it.  And get off my damned chair."

The corner of her mouth twitched upwards and she prised herself off the back of his mahogany chair, where she'd been rocking back and forth.  She stretched elaborately, cat-like, and turned to leave his office, but baulked as the door opened and Chris Faber lumbered in.

"Hi Tash," his friendly face lit up in a smile.  "How ya doin'?"

"Fine."  She wasn't hostile, but did not return the smile.

"So... ah... how about dinner tonight?  My treat... thought I might whip up -- "

"Sorry Chris," she waved the file at him, "Got a job.  Colorado.  Probably won't be back in time."

"Oh... Who're you takin' as back up?"  Chris left it sounding a little hopeful.

"Tarrington," she said.  Silent, he stood back and let her pass.

Tyler pretended to ignore the exchange, but it looked as though the Petersen-Faber on-again-off-again relationship was off right now.  Looked to be a lot of it going around, he thought sourly.

Chris took a moment, almost perceptibly burying his emotions regarding Tash, then smiled at Tyler.

"Howdy partner!  Anything coming to the boil yet?"

Ham shook his head. "All dead ends.  Julie's meeting me here in a while..." he glanced at his watch, "at nine.  We're going to the Seattle Marine Park, see if anything turns up there."

"They're workin' on the Mars Project, aren't they?"

"Them and every second science institute on the planet.  Generally, they're researching the water supply problems on Mars and ways to solve them; specifically, they're assigned the hydroponic applications -- how to grow food in low-grav with a limited water supply.  At least, that's one of them.  And that gives them a link of Lawton's agricultural research."

"Geez, you keep up with it," Chris muttered, scratching his head.

A knock on the door drew their attention and it slid aside to admit Julie to the room.  She looked tired, Ham thought.  He wondered how she maintained the paradoxical air of being both tough and vulnerable at once.

"Hi Chris."  Her smile was thin.

"Hi."  He turned to Ham.  "I'll be off then.  I've got that list of vid-numbers so I'll get onto it.  Call if you find anything, OK?"

Tyler nodded, rising, and led Julie out to the parking lot.
 
 

"C'mon, Meeeeegan," she sneered, "which toe you want me to break first?"

Megan whimpered.  Megan Emmett was a long-standing enemy of CT's, and the confrontation had been brewing for some days.  It started when Megan, sweet-faced and all innocence (to the teachers), framed CT for cheating in an English exam.  She'd been given a week's detention and a note to take home to her parents which, of course, she immediately torched.  But her integrity had been impugned and she wasn't likely to forget or forgive.

This morning, however, injury piled upon insult when four kids -- a couple of them Saurians -- all with grudges against her and organized by angel-faced Emmett, ambushed her outside the ablution block and forced her to inhale some sort of revolting cigarette which CT suspected was marijuana.  Emmett, who had lifted the joint from her elder brother, suggested that it was laced with something more potent.

They'd let her go as the period bell rang and she spent the next half hour throwing up. The afternoon spent in sickbay, feeling like she'd been run over by an armoured tank, settled her.  She excused herself before final bell, saying she was well enough to walk home, and lay in wait just outside the school.  She let the thugs go by unharmed -- she had something else in mind for them.  Right now she wanted the ringleader.  When Emmett came past with big brother Mick, CT jumped.

"Got business with your sister," she warned Mick Emmett.  The 15 year old was unimpressed and in fact he'd often encouraged Megan in her war against the young Tyler.  Upholding family tradition, he sneered and shoved the girl.  CT shoved back.  Bad tempered, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it.  Megan shouted her approval.

"Get her!"

She promptly fell silent as CT, shorter and lighter than her opponent, utilized 8 years of jujitsu training and left Mick sprawled in the dirt.  Unwisely, Mick chose to pursue the matter, and ten minute later he was leaning against a fence, hanging on to his bleeding and almost certainly broken nose and his sister, who had intervened by smacking a stray piece of wood down on CT's back, was pinned to the ground under threat of having her toes broken one at a time.

"Jesus Chris!  CT!!!"

The girl did not turn or even acknowledge her brother as David ran up to the chaotic scene.  He usually walked up from his nearby grade school to meet her on their way home.  Privately, it was his attempt to keep her out of mischief.  Looked like he was too late today.

Megan whimpered again and cast pitiful eyes on David.  "Stop her."

David, who couldn't resist limped eyes in an animal, just ignored Megan.  He knew all about that little cow, and frankly CT wouldn't be trying to cripple her if she hadn't done something to deserve it.  But still, it was more trouble than she was worth.

"CT, please."

"Get lost, Davie, it's not your fight."

"I know that, but this isn't the best... oh, Jesus... CT... "  He grabbed her by the arm and the ferocity in the look she gave him startled him for a moment.  She was really mad.

Too late.  Mr. Simpson, the Saurian Phys.Ed. teacher and another long-time enemy of CT's short and not-so-star-studded junior high career, strode up to them and lifted CT into the air by her shoulder, while Megan scrambled to safety.  CT glared, uncowed, at the teacher.

"You better put me down," she gritted, "Or my Dad's going to have somethin' to say to you."

David shook his head.  "You're not helping, CT," he muttered, and fell silent as Simpson cast a disapproving look at him.

"What's all this?" Simpson asked, not lowering CT to the ground.

"Personal," said CT harshly.

"That little savage!" Megan leapt in, fires of righteous indignation burning, "She jumped us!  Look what she did to Mick.  And she said... she said... she'd break my toes... " The girl dissolved into tears.

"Wimp," spat CT scornfully.

"I'd shut up if I were you, Miss Tyler," Simpson warned, "You're in enough trouble already."

"That's Ms.," she corrected.

"Fine, Ms. Tyler."  The buzz in his voice got harsher.  "Get yourself into my transport and we'll see what your parents have to say about this.  You too."  He glared at David.  David put on his best innocent & bewildered face, but waited for CT to be put down and walked with her to the transport hovering at the side of the road.

"Are you gonna run for it?" he asked CT hopefully.  "I could lay down interference... "

"Nah."  Her ire seemed to have died down.  "No point."  She sighed heavily.  She'd really done it this time.  She had enough trouble at school without this further blackening her record.  Dad was gonna be so mad, and that was just for getting ambushed in the first place.  "I wasn't really going to break her toes," she said after a moment, "I just wanted to give her a scare she wouldn't forget."

"But did you have to break Mick's nose?"

"Accident."  She fell silent again as an ambulance arrived and Mick was loaded into it.

David, sitting in the back seat of the transport with CT, regarded her with concern.  Mom was gonna kill her.
 
 

"Right," she said as the transport hum died away, "You've got the looks for it -- go in and flash some credentials, talk to a few of Lawton's associates, see what you can dig up.  If that doesn't work, I may have to pose as a research candidate."  She held up the newstext advertisement they'd picked up in San Francisco en route, which asked for research subjects for 'independent tests associated with the Mars Project', and listed no living relatives or attachments as a prerequisite.  The possible theatrics involved amused Tash.

Tarrington jumped down from the darkened transport.  "No sweat."

The reception Tarrington got was surprisingly helpful.  Many of Dan's associates were just as worried about him as his wife, and after half an hour paddling about in the maze of labs, Tarrington began to feel he was wasting his time.  He decided to head back to main administration, were he'd received a cool, almost Arctic reception from the Saurian there.  He had a good nose for where the stink lay, and Lawton's work area was not one of them.  He figured he could nose about this complex for weeks and still not cover all the buildings and projects going on in the huge, 50 square kilometre research facility, and he might not hit on the problem right away.

The lanky Texan grinned in anticipation.  It sure would be fun trying.
 
 

He took control of the vehicle again as he approached his house.   There was a stranger's transport parked in the landing area and blocking the garage, he noted irritably.  He'd have to talk to Alex about keeping her Goddamned patients separate from his home.  He parked his own transport on the lawn, grabbed his briefcase and stalked inside to have a few words with the driver.  As he stepped out of the transport, however, he heard voices raised in argument.  Alex sounded angry and CT was there somewhere, protesting.  The third voice was... Saurian!  Wary, senses tingling, Tyler left his briefcase and reached inside his jacket for his gun.  If his family were being threatened...

He crept quietly to the door, sharp and alert, and carefully, silently, opened the door... a little... an inch...

The door swung open suddenly and Tyler snatched out his gun in a rapid, controlled motion.

"Goddamnit Ham!  Put that thing away!"

Ham eyed the intruder critically, recognizing Mr. Simpson, CT's Saurian phys.ed. teacher.  He holstered his weapon without sign of embarrassment much less remorse and stood back to allow the lizard room to go.

"Don't park in my drive next time," he said evenly.  Ham didn't like Mr. Simpson much either.

Simpson's plasti-flesh face twitched a little.  "I'd be more concerned for your daughter than your parking space, if I were you," he said and left before another argument could erupt.

Tyler shut the door and turned slowly to face Alex.

"What was that all about?"

"That was about your daughter."

CT, still in the hallway, flinched at the emphasis, but stayed wisely silent.  Ham nodded knowingly.  CT was especially 'his' daughter when she was in trouble.

"Okay, what is it this time?"

Alex was fuming.  "She got into a fight after school.  When Simpson showed up she'd broken one kid's nose and was trying to break a young girl's leg!  Jesus!  What kind of savage are you bringing up?!"

Ham bridled at the accusation.  "Me?  Don't you come the pious mother with me Alex.  God knows, you're hardly ever here for these kids.  If it isn't conferences it's house calls.  You spend more time on those damned animals than on your children."

"That's rich, coming from you!  If it isn't business deals in Quebec it's a Job in Equador.  And don't tell me that girl isn't following your example.  She's the only thirteen year old girl I know with a weapons collection, for Christ's sake!  Look at you -- " she cast a ferocious, withering glance at him, "you hear one Saurian voice and you storm in, guns blazing.  What kind of example are you setting anyway?  CT's always getting into scraps and what do you do?  You encourage her!  Jesus, Ham, you give her pointers.  A really nice day out for her is a picnic with you at the gun range!!!"  Alex's voice was gradually creeping upwards, "Just what in the Goddamn hell do you think you're doing with that girl??"

Tyler's voice, by comparison, was ominously quiet, and very cold.  "A damn sight more than you are.  You fly in and out with hardly a word.  I barely see you, let alone the kids.  So don't tell me what a glorious example you're setting... "  He glimpsed CT's pale and anxious face peeking out from behind a door, and raised his voice, "Get the hell to your room.  I'll deal with you later!"

CT bit her lip and forced her tears to stay trapped in her eyes, and scurried down the hall to her room.  She found David there already, looking sober and worried.

"I haven't heard them fight this bad before," he commented.

CT tried hard to remain composed for a moment, but in the end threw herself miserably onto her bed and didn't care that someone could see her cry.

"It's all my fault," she sobbed.  "They hate each other because of me... "  She dissolved into tears and when David hugged her, trying to help, she buried herself in his arms and cried her heart out.

In the living room, the fight hadn't subsided at all.  Accusations of failed parenthood were interrupted by a phone call, and Ham snatched up the receiver, switching the receiver to audio-only as he did.

"Tyler," he barked.

"Ham... ?"

"Julie?  What is it?"  He chose to ignore Alex, who was glaring at him.

"It's Dan... They've found him."

"That's good, at least... "

"He's dead."

Ham fell silent for a moment, then, "How?"

"Someone found him... his body... in Puget Sound.  An hour ago.  They've been trying to find me... "  Her control started to break down.  "Ham... I'm... "

"Don't worry, I'll be right there.  Hang tight."

He hung up and tried to leave, but Alex was standing, arms folded, her anger still smouldering.  "Another really important business meeting?" she inquired acidly, knowing full well who'd been on the other end of the line, and challenging him to deny the accusation implicit in her question.

He regarded her stonily, then said, "I probably won't be back until late."

Alex threw up her hands.  "And what about CT?  This is exactly what I've been talking about!"

"We'll discuss her later."

"Later!  Christ!  What is it with Julie anyway?  Dinner last night, early appointment today -- "  Alex's voice was rising in pitch again, "This is the first time I've seen you since I got back.  You spend more time with her than your own family!"

"She's a friend."

"Oh, just good friends -- my favourite line.  So how many times have you fucked her, huh?"

Ham's eyes flashed fire as the barb struck.  He wouldn't say he hadn't thought about just that, but Alex made it sound... dirty, unclean, common... and how dare she accuse him of it!

"What about you?" he countered, his until then controlled voice deepening with anger and rising in volume, "You come home a day and a half later, without so much as a call to your family..." his voice fairly dripped "... and I find out this morning from Jeri you made a new friend over the weekend.  So what about him, huh?  Was he good in bed, or did he just smell enough of animals for you?"

Alex barely suppressed a strangled scream and snatched up the nearest dense object and hurled it at him with all her strength.  The stone paperweight, sculpted by David in craft class, connected in a glancing blow on his cheek and Tyler reacted immediately, unthinking, with a vicious backhanded blow across her face that was designed to hurt and that knocked Alex into the wall.

"Bitch!" he snarled, wiping blood from his face.  After a pause he turned and stalked out of the house.  Alex struggled to her feet, staggering after him, and flung the hat-rack draped with all his leather jackets out after him.

"And don't come back!" she screamed, slamming the door shut.  Inside, she swung around and threw her back against the door, thumping it in frustration and anger.  Then reaction set in, her hand going to her face, and slowly, she slid down the door until she was sitting with her back to it, knees drawn up to her chin.  Quietly, she began to cry.
 
 

Then he remembered the events of the previous night and sat up with a bolt.

"Julie..?"

The petite woman was looking drawn and haggard, and her eyes were red and puffy, but otherwise she looked like she was... coping.  She had that knack.  If Tyler admired one thing about Julie Parrish it was her elasticity... a quality he didn't have... her ability to roll with the punches, even the uppercuts such as this one.

"I'm fine," she reassured him at his anxious glance, handing him the coffee.  "You don't look so good."

"Never mind me," he muttered, taking the coffee in both hands and concentrating on getting it to his lips without spilling a drop.  He tried to recall how much he'd drunk last night, after arriving at Julie's hotel to provide 'comfort' for her.  If memory served, he'd done far more of the drinking than she had while she talked and cried herself out.  He hoped he'd said all the right things; Jesus, it was Julie who should have been roaring drunk, not him.  He should have stayed sober to help her through it, but in the end, he wasn't sure who'd helped whom.  He shook his head -- mistake -- and cleared his throat as the coffee went to work.

"You okay?" he asked.

Julie nodded.  "For now.  Thanks, Ham, I really needed your company last night."

His first reaction was to grunt and shrug it off, but Julie wouldn't understand that, and didn't need what she would perceive as a rejection right now.  He made an effort, and smiled acceptance of the gratitude.  "Any time.  You know that."

"Yeah," she said softly.

There was an awkward silence between them while Tyler finished his coffee in a large swallow and stood up, only just remembering to clutch the blankets around his naked waist.  Julie stifled a giggle.  Ham forbode a reply, glad that she was still able to find something amusing.  God, how did she do it?  When Sandy had died, he'd wanted to die too; had spent the better part of his early, mercenary life trying.  His respect for Julie went up another notch.

"We've got work to do," he said briskly, hunting down his trousers, shirt and jacket as they lay scattered around the sofa.  He retrieved his waistcoat and tie from behind it and retreated to the bathroom to change, calling out over his shoulder in reply to Julie's query, "The Seattle-to-San Francisco Floating Casino.  It's due in to harbour in an hour or so."

At the docks, Ham and Julie spent the morning nosing around, asking questions and generally putting out lines in hope of catching a hot lead.  No one seemed to know anything, other than a man's body had been fished out of the sound by a local restaurateur at 3pm yesterday afternoon.  There was no especial excitement attached to it; apparently the poor and hopeful were always throwing away their lives in the 'sound.

"Dan was not some lousy destitute bum," Julie said bitterly after another unsuccessful encounter.  Ham steered her in the direction of the Casino itself, which was now loading and unloading cargo, leaving a protective arm loosely around her shoulders as they approached the police milling around the huge ship.

The grisly duty of identifying the body had been done last night, but the Casino, an enormous structure of floating decadence and reeking of money ill-gotten, Tyler thought, had only just come in to berth and the police naturally wanted a few words with those on board regarding the deceased.  Dan had been carrying a respectable amount in the Casino's chips, something in itself which Julie found shockingly unlikely.  Dan was almost a non-gambler; for him, five bucks grudgingly spent on the national lottery pools was a gigantic risk, and one he'd only take every so often (because, as he complained, he never won the damned thing).  Dan was not the stuff of which compulsive gamblers were made.

The police let them through the cordon when Tyler identified himself, but their expressions made it clear what they thought of the 'hired help'.  They spoke first to a Detective Kaveri, a tall willowy Saurian woman with dark skin, and the one who'd asked them questions the night before.  Much as Tyler distrusted Saurians as a species, they did seem to be extremely effective in the law forces, where many of them sought employment to the extent that it was now quite common to find a 50/50 ratio of Earth/Saurian officers.   This one had obviously been based in India when she'd arrived on Earth, and had not bothered to re-establish another plasti-flesh identity.  Even her speech had a slightly foreign lilt to it.

The Saurian nodded politely to the two as they approached her in the main gaming deck.

"Dr. Parrish, Mr. Tyler.  I thought you might turn up here this morning.  What can I do for you?"

"Information," Tyler said shortly.  The detective glanced at her notebook then shrugged.

"Nothing to tell, Mr. Tyler.  Everything here corroborates the story they told over the vid-phone last night.  Dr. Lawton had been a passenger on this ship since he boarded at San Francisco.   He played the tables, drank a lot, had a rolling good time and... I'm sorry, Dr. Parrish, he just fell off the ship and drowned early yesterday morning.  The tides did the rest.  There are no suspicious circumstances."

"Even though I filed a missing persons report ten days ago?" Julie demanded.  "Dan would never gamble, and we hadn't had a fight.  He just... disappeared, vanished!  I'd call those damned suspicious circumstances, sister."

"Forgive me, Dr. Parrish," Kaveri said, not without sympathy, "but we were well aware of your report.  Dr. Lawton was the subject of a nation-wide A.P.B.  However his death cannot be seen as anything but... accidental.  All Dr. Lawton did was disappear for a few days.  He wasn't wanted for anything previously, he didn't commit any crimes, no evidence that he was involved in anything illegal has been found, there was no sign of a struggle, witnesses report nothing unusual about his behaviour...  Really, Dr. Parrish, all we have is your attestation that his behaviour has been abnormal, and we can hardly make arrests on that.  You see our problem."

Julie, staring into the middle distance, nodded mechanically.

"Do you mind if we look around while we're here?" Tyler asked.  The detective waved them through.

"Go right ahead.  And if you do come across anything," she called after them, "please let me know."

Tyler said they'd do that.

"They're not going to do anything, are they Ham?"

"Nope.  What did you expect?  The lizard's right -- it's nothing more than a hunch to go on.  But I tell you something, lady, I trust your hunches a damn sight more than most people's hard fact.  We'll find them," he said more quietly.  "I guarantee it."

Julie smiled and squeezed his hand briefly.  "Thanks.  But that won't bring Dan back."

"No," Tyler said slowly, thinking of his own painful experiences, "but it might put him to rest.  And I'd feel better about fulfilling some contractual obligations."

She thought about that, then sighed.  "Where do we start?"
 

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