Up for Air

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Okay, this is all messed up. I’ve managed to skip Spiro’s traces for the last few days. That’s never a good thing, except we didn’t actually have any specific plan together. Still, he’ll come down on me like a load of wet felt – especially when he finds out I was hanging with his boy Kyle. That’s a whole other story that I’ll get to. Still sifting the murk. But Spiro’s gonna twist it that us going AWOL was my fault. I don’t see it that way, and he’s gonna have a screamer on his hands when he tries it, but I’m feelin a bit delicate this morning, and I’ve got other things to deal with.

I’ve stopped off at my place for a shower and a fresh kit. Even Fractal seems on edge, poor dear. Well, I can’t help you this morning, Dude. Spiro’s been pinging me like a psycho, and I’ve been trying to track down Minder to get him to feed me some review material on that GPS tracker. Minder’s last text said he’d do it, but experience tells me I’ll have to soften his technobab with some human connection. Spiro won’t know the diff, but he’ll howl when the piece kicks back from the editor. So, as always, I cover mine by covering his. Ain’t that the way of bidneh?

This is all spinning too fast. I need some Marie time to pull this together. Ooop, there’s a ping from my sysbro, Cheree. Maybe she’s got clues as to my whereabouts over the past few nights. I shipped Kyle off as distraction flak for Spiro. Meatball promised to ping me if Furball has me staked out. K, gotta run to Minder. Gawd, my head.


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