Security, however, was already aware of Conan, by sight if not by name. Shortly after Jeannie had left the office to go home and change, Carlos Alvarez had received a message from one of Jamie's neighbors, an erstwhile girl friend who had not taken kindly to being dropped in favor of his newest bed mate. The fact that she had a 1A genome equal to Jamie's, and that Jeannie was of a lesser classification had only whetted her anger. Now she saw a chance to pay him back and took swift advantage of it. As soon as she saw that the strange dog entering Jamie's apartment was not wearing the standard Enclave collar she called the Genetic Engineering department. Alvarez, recognizing her as one of Jamie's former lovers took the call himself. Being somewhat voyeuristic, he even listened patiently to the girl's theories concerning miscegenation of genome types. Immediately afterward, he called Security Section.
Jamie's impression of Alvarez as an incompetent, pompous data shuffler was somewhat less than accurate. Alvarez might not have kept up with the latest methods in genetic engineering, but he was a shrewd judge of who had, and he had become more than a little fearful of Jamie's competence. His dislike of Jamie's pets, and pets in general, gave him no little satisfaction as he talked to John Whitmire, chief of Enclave security. "That's right," he said. "Da Cruz reported a feral dog intrusion at one of the test plots where he's screwed up some new protein flora, and just now I've gotten a report that a strange dog was seen entering his apartment. Yes, it was wearing a collar, but it didn't appear to be a standard one, and we've received no other information on the intrusion. I think this one must be it. No, John, I have no idea why he would try to conceal a feral dog; I'm just giving you what was reported to me. Yes, John, I would appreciate it if you would check it out. Let me know, please. Thank you." He cut the link to Whitmire and began closing the office for the day. At first he intended to catch a sled for the old Galleria area and relieve some tension, but on second thought decided it would be more fun to head directly to Jamie's apartment complex and be present for the confrontation. That was a boss' prerogative, after all.
John Whitmire was less enthusiastic about Alvarez's report. He knew the man from department head meetings and was not impressed, especially in view of his well known prejudices concerning enhanced animals. Nevertheless, he couldn't simply ignore the call. A possible breach of the Enclave's defenses was too serious a matter; it would have to be investigated.
He scanned his monitor to see who might be available for the duty. There was precious little choice. The infrequency of breaks in the Enclave barriers lately had caused him to assign most of his agents not on duty outside to liaison and intelligence gathering of off world activities. Moon City and the space stations were still theoretically part of earth, but that was only theory. In practice, they were not only independent, but increasingly hostile and disdainful of the mother world. With the failure of national governments, they had taken over the means of space travel and extracted a huge price for weather forecasting, rare moon minerals, and exotic materials which could only be manufactured in the weightless environment of space. Whitmire thought that if the space colonies were not still dependent on earth for some of their own requirements, they would break all contact with earth and go their own way, unencumbered with the disastrous ecological consequences of the pet plague. He found it incumbent to keep many of his agents involved in space matters, especially in light of the deteriorating conditions on earth. Besides, it did no harm to know what the other fellow was thinking.
He finally decided on a ranger to follow up on Alvarez's report. Rangers were agents especially trained for assignments in the wilds, their specialty being to keep watch on territory outside the Enclave and to report on any threatening developments among the enhanced feral animals. There was a ranger available, he saw: Kristi Carson, currently near the end of a well earned leave from exploring the vast piney woods of east Texas.
His monitor picked her up in a rough section north of the old loop. He winced at the area she was in, and winced even more when she appeared in full holographic splendor on his screen. She was totally naked, her back propped against a large pillow. A sizable dog lay beside her on the bed, eyes open and alert. Her right arm was curled around a female body which he recognized as another of his rangers. She was obviously enjoying herself and made no attempt to blank out any part of the hologram. Kristi was not one to worry about other people's opinions.
"What do you want, John? I'm on leave," she said, emphasizing the point by pulling the other woman's head down to her breasts.
"Sorry," Whitmire said, trying his best to ignore her activities. "I'm recalling you, but maybe just for this evening. There's been a break-in, and you're about the only agent available on such short notice."
Kristi shook her blond hair and disengaged herself from her companion. "Ah, well, I'm about ready to get back to work. Where is this alleged break-in?" She stood up and began pulling on her clothes, underpants and the standard Enclave coveralls. Whitmire admired her figure as she dressed. Not only was she one of his best agents, she was one of his most attractive ones. Her long blond hair contrasted nicely with the oddly tanned parts of her body, a blend of cream and brown. Her breasts were perfectly formed, with small pink nipples, and just large enough to set off her small waist and moderately flared hips. Her figure was a reflection of more than two generations of genetic selection by women of the enclaves. In her age group, there were very few sagging breasts or over padded flesh. She had high Swedish cheekbones and long tapered legs. Looking at her, Whitmire wished he were forty years younger.
"The break was in the experimental ag section, but the report I got suggests that a feral dog may be holed up in the apartment of one Jamie Da Cruz. Take a sled to B-36, then you can find him at building 9, apartment 3. Use your own judgment from there."
"On my way," Kristi said, relief in her voice. She really was tired of playing. A little work would be a welcome change, picayunish as this appeared to be.
Carlos Alvarez closed his own office, but in the reverie of his old mind he was still picturing the delightful aspect of Jamie Da Cruz being caught in the company of a feral dog and failed to clear his conversation with Whitmire from the section computer. After he left, his assistant saw an opportunity and called it back up. His assistant's goals were a little more long range. Don Cadena reported not only to Alvarez, but to the government of Moon City as well. His dark past had caused him to be recruited by the government there years ago. In this case, he doubted that anything of importance had taken place, but decided to keep abreast of the case of the feral dog anyway. It was good practice, and you never knew -- sometimes the most insignificant incidents could turn out to have great consequences.
Jamie's call to security turned up only the night watch. He initiated a tracer on Whitmire, hoping it would not be diverted into data storage for later retrieval, but suspected it would be, since he was not willing to disclose any of the current events to an underling. Then he suddenly remembered that he hadn't called his own office to report that he had gone home. A call there elicited only the robot caretaker; Cadena had finished listening to Alvarez's conversation and left as well.
Frustrated on both counts, he called Jeannie to put off their meeting. All he got was a recording of her pretty face. Jeannie had just finished changing when the call came and declined to answer. She thought it better to just go on over to his apartment and surprise him. She knew he couldn't resist a back-rub, and what would inevitably follow. Even if she didn't have a genome to match his, she was confident that he would eventually succumb to her not inconsiderable charms. After all, he had dropped a good looking 1A genome type for her. And, she admitted to herself, she really did love him. Maybe tonight, after what she intended to do with him, he would make a commitment. She could hope, anyway. Jamie's pets liked her, and she knew that meant a lot to him. Eagerly, she boarded the outskirts sled and settled down into a happy fantasy while it carried her toward his apartment.