“You know—” said Nektar, regally nude, pausing to enjoy the eyes upon her. “I kept trying to think what those beetles reminded me of, and now I realize they’re like nants. That blind, pushy quality. The Jeff Luty connection fits. That man isn’t comfortable in a human body. He truly thinks we’d be happier if we were software. Ond always said Jeff wasn’t really evil—it’s just that Jeff had this big tragedy when he was younger.” Nektar shook out her hair, proud of herself for sounding so calm on the subject of Luty. “What it is, Jeff is making those beetles as a way to help get Dick Too Dibbs into office. And that’ll give Jeff an in. And down the road, I bet Jeff will manipulate Too Dibbs into launching some improved, unstoppable nants and they’ll kill Gaia for good. Someone has to get to Luty.”

“Right on, Nektar,” said Kittie.

“Go to the Armory,” urged Nektar. “Go to the Armory and check yourselves into the Natural Mind center. Talk sense to Andrew Topping.”

“Natural Mind,” mused Jayjay. “A janitor told us to go there this morning. Coincidence or trap?”

“Aw, people always mention Natural Mind if you’re sleeping in the street,” said Sonic. “I’m down with going there. Put some heat on Topping’s ass. He’s a megaspammer, man. Of course, duh, thanks to the orphidnet, he’ll know we’re coming, assuming his beezies data-mine this conversation. Maybe the Natural Minders won’t let us in.”

Jayjay made a dismissive gesture. His attention had wandered to Thuy. “You done watching Nektar take her shower?” he demanded. “Leave that for Kittie. Come sit with me. I’m the one who loves you.”

Thuy strode over, gave Jayjay such a hard shove with her gold-clad foot that he fell over on his side, then perched herself on him as if she were sitting on a log. He lay there, looking happy to be in physical contact. Poor men, thought Nektar, they’re dogs. Jayjay was cute, too. If Thuy didn’t want him, maybe Jil Zonder would. Jil deserved a fling. It might shake her out of her doldrums.

“Why didn’t you and the beezies fix Nektar yourselves instead of calling in a strung-out pighead derelict like Jayjay?” Thuy asked the shoons, wagging her finger at them. “You there—the shoon that looks like me—squeak up! You can talk, can’t you?”

The tiny Thuy-shaped shoon bobbled her little pigtails and spoke in a surprisingly rich alto voice: “We can talk. We can sing.” Capering expressively, the shoon now performed a bit of Papageno’s aria from The Magic Flute, vibrating her whole body like a loudspeaker.

The Big Pig Posse kids laughed.