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polka-dotted on large transparent plates lit by an internal radiance. They drank from crystal goblets, the same illumination highlighting the beverage they had chosen. A pretentious café to be seen in, to be noticed frequenting.
    Angel’s implants logged all the patrons, and she gave the list a quick once-over. Nothing out of the ordinary: the famous, the rich, the inheritors, corporate suits impressing prospective clients. A random noise-reduction field cloaked the interior, lowering the clamor to barely a whisper.
    Not consistent with the wife of a middle-level researcher, not at all. There might be reasons for a woman of Jessica’s class to frequent such an expensive café, however, and none of them were good.
    “Excuse me.”
    She glanced at the serving automaton that addressed her; it was gleaming, even in the dim orange glow.
    “I am here to see Citizen J. Smith; she is expecting me.” Her implants flashed her credentials.
    “Follow me, please.” The automaton glided silently across the polished floor.
    Angel followed slowly, analyzing and discarding various reasons for such a meeting place.
    At the table, Jessica Smith noted her approach and stood, hand extended. Angel shook it firmly, and they exchanged opening pleasantries.
    “Please, sit,” Jessica said, gesturing to the couch opposite. She looked at Angel with deep suspicion. “Inquisitor Xia, may I examine your credentials?”
    With a brief smile, Angel fished in her jacket pocket and drew out her Inquisitor’s wallet and handed it to her. As Jessica studied the unforgeable insignia and used her implants to verify its authenticity, Angel studied her.
    Jessica was exactly what she expected: petite, blonde, dark eyes from lack of sleep, slightly nervous. When she took a gulp from a glass half-filled with a golden liquid lit from underneath, Angel could smell the alcohol fumes from across the table.
    She was the picture of a grieving wife whose husband had been murdered, double-checking her credentials, as if unsure who to trust. Perfectly natural.
    “Could I, uh… also see your other credentials?”
    And the picture was broken.
    Seeing Angel hesitate, she added, “Just so I know it’s you. I mean…” Her eyes flicked to a number of other tables. “How could I be sure, otherwise?”
    Raising her eyebrows, Angel removed her private credentials, those confirming her as a Privileged of a House. She opened the wallet to reveal another unforgeable insignia. This one sparkled under the dim light.
    Jessica drew in a short breath at the sight then visibly relaxed, sinking back into her couch. “Thank you. I had to be sure. You understand.”
    “No, actually, I don’t.”
    Jessica leaned forward, glancing out across the room. “There are powerful influences on Persephone and beyond, even in the Inquisitors. But House Liwei has a reputation for ferocious independence, for incorruptibility and untouchability.”
    If only you knew the truth… thought Angel.
    “I…” Jessica hesitated, then rushed ahead. “I think Harry was murdered. I know you think I’m crazy but—”
    “I agree.”
    Jessica’s mouth dropped open. It closed, and her teeth clicked together. “You do?”
    “Yes. It’s a hunch at the moment.”
    “Oh, goodness! With Harry… gone, I don’t know if I’ll be next. What if some crazy person is out there? Who knows what they’re thinking?”
    “I assure you, your husband’s death is most likely corporation related.”
    “Yes, yes, of course. But, he wasn’t involved in anything worth killing him for.”
    “Your husband spoke about his work to you?”
    “Sometimes. I mean… only occasionally. And nothing classified,” Jessica stressed. “He wouldn’t do that.”
    Angel had the feeling Jessica knew more than she was letting on. The darting of her eyes, her nervous twitches.
    She isn’t overly concerned about her husband’s death , realized Angel. But she really does think she’ll be next. Why? “And you didn’t