an cut Marshal Orb loose before reporting the discovery.
That decision mattered.
Gilden noticed the delay.
So did Ian.
He got Orb to Doc Loxo through the back of the warehouse and told Dewdrop only enough to make him curious. Lethargic Bill had vanished. Hoppity was missing. Orb refused to explain what had happened in the basement.
For several days Hood County lived on rumor.
Then Dewdrop announced he was going into the record business.
His headquarters was his burrow.
There was barely enough room inside for a recording console, two chairs and Dewdrop’s ego, but he nailed a sign over the entrance anyway:
DEWDROP RECORDS.
Ian became his partner.
“You know music,” Dewdrop said.
“I know people.”
“Even better.”
Their first studio microphone was built from a hearing-aid coil and the chrome cap from a pen. Their soundproofing consisted of cotton pulled from a discarded first-aid kit. Filmy Dome supplied a crate of rye on credit. False Black supplied absolutely nothing.
“You two are gonna destroy each other,” he said.
Dewdrop smiled. “That’s what partners are for.”
Ian laughed.
The laugh surprised him.
Nothing in Gilden’s programming had told him to enjoy this.
At the lab, Gilden watched the feed and frowned.
Jocko noticed.
“Your infiltrator appears to be making friends.”
“He is building assets.”
“He appears to be having fun.”
“He is building enthusiastic assets.”
Jocko sipped his wine.
“Of course.”