"Not addressed.  Not postal-sealed.  No legal reason we can't peek, is there?" said Dan.

The woman nodded and handed the envelope over.  Dan popped a folding knife and slit it open from the bottom, holding it above the countertop.  A thick wad of currency thumped out, followed by a fluttering note.

It was more money than Jin had seen in one place in his life.  From their widening eyes, it was more money than the two security officers were used to seeing in one lump, too, certainly in the hands of a kid.

Dan riffled the wad and vented a long, amazed whistle.

Michiko said, "Drug ring, do you think?  Feelie-dream smugglers?"

"It could be—gods, it could be anything.  Congratulations, Michiko.  Shouldn't wonder if there's a promotion in this."  Staring at the envelope with more respect, Dan belatedly pulled a pair of thin plastic gloves from his pocket and donned them before he picked up the note.  It seemed to be printed on half a flimsy.

Dan read aloud, "We must trust that you know what you are doing.  Please contact us in person as soon as possible."  He turned the note in the light.  "No address, no date, no names, no signature.  Nothing.  Veery suspicious."

Michiko bent to look Jin sternly in the eyes.  "Where did you meet these bad men, child?"

"They weren't bad men.  They were just . . . men.  Friends of a friend."

"Where were you taking all this money?"

"I didn't know it was money!"

Michiko's eyebrows rose.  "Do you believe that?" she asked her partner.

"Yah," said Dan, "or he might have taken off with it."

"Good point."

"I wouldn't have!  Even if I had known!"

"No one can threaten you now, Jin," Michiko said more gently.  "You're safe."

"No one did threaten me!"  Jin had never felt less safe in his life.  And if he blabbed, Suze and Ako and Tenbury and everyone who had befriended him wouldn't be safe, either.  And Lucky and the ratties and the chickens, and big, beautiful Gyre . . .  Lips tight as he could press them, Jin stared back at the officers.

"Call Youth Services to pick up the boy," said Michiko.  "The rest of the evidence had better go to Vice, at a guess."

"Yah," said Dan, his gloved hands sliding Jin's precious envelope, the wad of cash, and the note into a transparent plastic bag.

"My animals," Jin whispered.  Such a simple task Miles-san had entrusted him with, and he'd screwed it all up.  He'd screwed everything up.  Between his scrunched eyelids, tears began to leak.

#

With a grating noise and a puff of powder, the bolt popped out of the concrete.

"Finally," breathed Roic.

Chapter Five

Chapter Five