Rook

weekend.”
    “That’s great, but at this rate, we’ll have to be leaving instructions for our descendants.”
    “There are four more Court members to test,” said Clovis reasonably. “We’re working as quickly as we can.”
    “Fine,” said Myfanwy. “Thank you.” She hung up and handed the phone back. “Ingrid, set up a meeting of the Court for tomorrow evening.”
By that time, the entire Court will have been screened for Grafter implants.
    Gestalt didn’t have any Grafter implants,
part of her brain reminded her.
At least not in either of the bodies we have in custody.
    “When can I leave for London?” she asked the nurse.
    “An hour?” said the nurse hesitantly.
    “Fine,” Myfanwy said, crossing her arms. “In the meantime, somebody see about getting me some clothes that have a back to them.”
    T he drive to the helicopter field was silent. Everyone was painfully aware that one of the large bodyguards, whose name turned out to have been Ronald, had been replaced. The new bodyguard, Emily, was knitting placidly. Traffic was not good, and the limousine crawled along. Myfanwy eyed the wet bar and ruefully came to the conclusion that although she certainly deserved a stiff drink, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea. There was still too much to do. Meanwhile, Li’l Pawn Alan was looking at her with the kind of awe that young guys reserve for powerful women whose bottoms they have seen.
    I should probably call Bronwyn,
Myfanwy thought.
Just to make sure she’s okay. And should I arrange for her to receive some sort of discreet bodyguards? That skinless tool has proven he can’t be trusted.
But she quickly realized that any guard she placed on Bronwyn might be secretly working for the Grafters.
I don’t know what to do next,
she thought.
All I can do is try to track down this missing Grafter, and that’s going to have to wait until I get back to the Rookery
.
    You know, I’m just going to call her.
She reached automatically for her new mobile and then realized that it had probably been eaten bythe cube, along with her comfortable shoes. The fact that she was now swathed in a camouflage jumpsuit and combat boots that were too big did little to improve her humor. She looked over at Ingrid, who was talking on
her
mobile, and thought about borrowing it before remembering that she didn’t know Bronwyn’s number, and wasn’t keen to call directory assistance in front of all these people. Myfanwy leaned back and shut her eyes wearily. Ingrid finished her call and shut her phone with a snap.
    “The meeting has been set up, Rook Thomas,” she said.
    “Thanks, Ingrid,” Myfanwy replied, kicking off the boots. She didn’t bother opening her eyes when the phone rang. Ingrid’s voice was soothing when one didn’t actually listen to what she was saying.
    “Rook Thomas? It’s the head of the communications department.” Myfanwy opened her eyes and took the mobile, pulling herself up into a sitting position.
    “Hello?”
    “Good evening, Rook Thomas. This is Carruthers” came a diffident voice.
    “What’s happened?” she asked urgently.
    “We still haven’t been able to trace the phone call,” he said apologetically.
    “Keep trying. I have utter confidence in you,” she said.
    “Thank you, Rook Thomas. However, we have succeeded in tracking down the origin of the fax,” he said, jolting her out of her disappointment.
    “Are you serious?” she exclaimed. Everyone in the car jumped. “Where did it come from? Do you have an exact address?”
    “Uh, yes, Rook Thomas. It’s in London.”
    “Hold on a moment,” Myfanwy said; she put the phone down and lowered the privacy barrier that separated them from the driver. “Excuse me, but how far are we from the helicopter?” she asked.
    “I’m sorry, Rook Thomas, but the traffic is bad,” said the driver, gesturing helplessly at the mass of cars in front of him.
    “Do we have some sort of siren or flashy lights?” she asked.
    “Sorry, no.”
    Myfanwy nodded reluctantly and raised the barrier.
    “Rook Thomas?” said Ingrid.
    “They’ve traced that fax,” said Myfanwy. “It’s in London and needs to be attended to now, but as you can see, we’re stuck here. So I’ll have to delegate. Who else has a phone?” As it turned out, everyone did. “Fine. Someone get me Chevalier Eckhart.” She turned her attention back to Carruthers, who was waiting on the line. “All right, what can you tell me about—
what?
”
    “Rook