They’d just hit Gardnerville when Ted’s phone rang again.
He looked down at the car’s infotainment display for the caller ID. Sure enough, it showed “Hammer Keller LLP”. Damn, it wasn’t even seven in the morning yet.
Steeling himself, he tapped the answer button. “Hello?”
“This is Janet Hammer, Mr. Bishop. I’ve worked out an arrangement for your surrender to the police under my surveillance, and gotten an injunction to keep Nanolab Sciences from taking possession of the Dynamouse.”
“Okay.” He glanced at Aurora, who looked back worriedly. “So I guess you’re taking my case.”
“You don’t technically have a case yet, Mr. Bishop, since you haven’t been formally charged, but yes, I am now your lawyer.”
“Right. Uh. So…what happens?”
“Where are you now?”
“I’d rather not say, but I’m in the Sierras.”
“We have confidentiality, as I’d said—”
“It’s not that, it’s that I don’t know if we can really trust this line to be secure at this point. Unless Aurora can verify that.”
“Aurora?”
“The mouse.” He looked up at her. “How untraceable does what you did to my phone yesterday make it?”
“It makes it behave like…what do they say in spy movies? A burner phone.”
“It’s still Mr. Bishop’s phone number,” Hammer said.
“Yes, but these calls shouldn’t show up associated with it because of the changes I made yesterday.”
“And you’re the mouse.”
“Yes.”
Hammer let out a long, audible breath. “All right. The plan is for you—I mean you, Mr. Bishop, assuming you’re not letting the mouse drive—to head to Sacramento’s downtown police station. I should be able to make it there before you do. Once you’re there, you’ll turn yourself in with me, and the—uh—Aurora will be given into custody of the Sacramento County SPCA.”
“The SPCA? Are you kidding me?”
“It’s what I could do on short notice, Mr. Bishop,” she said tightly. “It’s standard protocol for animals, which legally speaking, Aurora is. We may be able to come up with different arrangements when we meet, but no one—including me, I suspect—has any idea what to expect from a Dynamouse Ultra.”
“We’ll talk. All right, should I head there now?”
“Yes. I’ll be able to make it from my offices in Oakland in about two hours, so unless you’re much closer than I think, I’ll beat you there. Do not go to the station before me. I’ll call you and let you know when I arrive.”
“Okay. Got it. Thanks.”
She hung up.
Ted let out a breath, then punched in Sacramento on the GPS. “Okay. About three hours, because we’re going to catch the commute, it looks like.”
“What is the ‘SPCA’?”
“It’s the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. It’s an animal shelter, where they take stray pets, mostly. They try to find their owners, and if they can’t, they put them up for adoption for a few months.”
“Oh. What if they don’t get adopted that fast?”
“Depends on the shelter’s policies. Sometimes the shelter just takes in as many animals as they can handle and turns away others. Sometimes animals get taken to another shelter. And sometimes they get killed.”
She looked shocked. “That’s awful.”
“It is.” He followed the signs back to California 89, on the way to US Highway 50. “But my mom ran a Humane Society shelter for a while, and she said those are just about your only choices. If you only take as many animals as you can care for, then when you fill up, you can’t take any more. Since some animals are harder to adopt than others, your space is going to keep shrinking, and you’ll have some residents who are effectively permanent, which is miserable for them. Or, you only keep animals for a set amount of time, and get rid of them somehow even if you’re killing them, because you have to free up the space for newcomers. And what too many do is just keep taking them, promising everyone you’ll find a way to manage.”
“And…that’s bad?”
“That’s what the shelter my mom took over was doing, and…well. She took it over because she was the health inspector called in to shut them down originally. The thing was, they couldn’t find a way to manage that many animals. They tried, but they had animals crowded into cages together, cats and dogs with terminal, contagious illnesses spreading before they caught them, an overwhelmed staff that couldn’t keep up with basic needs. It was a nightmare.” He sighed. “So she hates the idea of ‘no-kill’ shelters based on her experience. That was decades ago and I’ve heard they’re a lot better now, but… I don’t really know how you solve some of those problems.”
Aurora remained silent, looking down for long seconds, then swallowed. “And that’s where I’m going?”
“No. No.” He reached over and put his hand on her knee. “I don’t know what we’re going to figure out, but we are not putting you in an animal cage. They’ll see you’re a person. You have to.”
She nodded slightly.
“Please don’t eat anyone, no matter how much you’re tempted, though.”
Aurora laughed, putting her larger hand on his a moment. “I’ll try to resist. Based on this morning, humans aren’t that tasty.”
“That’s what you get for eating somebody with their clothes on. And shoes. Yuck.”
“Oh, I should unwrap them first! Got it.”
Ted eyed her. She was working hard to keep a straight face, with mixed success.
The drive toward Sacramento was just as enchanting to Aurora as the drive east across the Sierras had been, all the way through El Dorado Hills and Rancho Cordova. As they turned onto I–5 and got closer to the north downtown exit, though, the mouse tensed up. He reached up to pat her shoulder.
The phone rang.
“I’m here,” Hammer said without preamble. “You’re heading to the main office on Richards Boulevard.”
“Yeah. I’m about five minutes out now.”
“All right. When you get here, come to the front entrance.”
“Where should I park?”
“You’re surrendering to the police, not going to a goddamn Applebee’s, Mr. Bishop. One of our associates is going to drive your car back to our garage so the cops don’t impound it. You’re welcome.”
He sighed. “Thank you.”
“Don’t talk to the police, or anyone else, when you get there until I’m by your side.” She hung up.
Aurora sank down in her seat in a remarkably human fashion, although it just accented how big she was for his tiny car.
The drive took them past the usual downtown exits, past Old Town Sacramento, and off into a light industrial area. The police HQ building looked indistinguishable from any other government building, and barely distinguishable from a typical three-story office complex save for the slightly more imposing fences. Three uniformed white cops stood outside the entrance, along with two young white guys in suits and three women, all different races: a tall black woman, a shorter one who looked Latino or maybe Asian—Filipino?—and a white one who looked familiar. Stonebraker? Uh oh.
The cops moved toward him even before he pulled the car to a stop, two of them with their guns already drawn, albeit by their sides. Terrific. “Please don’t hurt anyone,” he murmured to Aurora.
“If they try to hurt you—”
“They’re probably going to handcuff me, Aurora. But if you do anything to harm anyone here, we’ll be in a lot more trouble, you understand?”
“No.” She sighed. “But I promise.”
“Thank you.”
The black woman strode forward, overtaking the police and holding up her hands to them in a clear wait motion, eyes on Ted. Stonebraker followed her, typing on her phone.
Clearing his throat, he opened his door. “Okay. Here goes.”
As he stood up, Aurora got out, too. Oh, dammit. Should he have asked her to mimic clothes? Hmm. No. They might have to cooperate, but they didn’t have to make anyone comfortable.
“Ms. Hammer?” he said hesitantly.
“Mr. Bishop,” she replied, but her eyes locked onto Aurora. “Wow.”
“My God, she’s huge,” Stonebraker muttered. “And sexy.”
Hammer side-eyed her.
“This isn’t huge,” Aurora said dismissively.
Ted shot her a warning look, shaking his head a fraction, and looked back at Bishop. “Why is Ms. Stonebraker here? I thought Nanolabs wasn’t going to be involved with this.”
“We’re not involved in the sense of taking the property you stole back from you, Mr. Bishop, but given what she’s clearly capable of, we’re not going to hand her over to the County without switching on safeguards.” Stonebraker fiddled with her phone again.
“He didn’t steal me,” Aurora protested. “I came to him for help.”
“Mouse Lady,” Hammer said sharply, pointing at her, “I don’t know if the right to remain silent legally applies to you, but as your lawyer, not just Mr. Bishop’s, I strongly advise you to shut your muzzle.”
Aurora blinked over at her, nonplussed.
“Hackett,” she waved one of the two young guys in suits over, “take Bishop’s car back to our garage.”
He nodded, heading over to Ted and holding his hands out. “Keys, please?”
Ted held out his keys to the guy, then looked at Stonebraker. “What does ‘switching on safeguards’ mean?”
“Turning off Sexymouse’s nanobots, like…” Stonebraker tapped the phone twice. “Like this.”
“I don’t—” Aurora started to say. Then she froze, falling against the side of the car and sliding down toward the ground.
“Aurora!” Ted dashed around the hood toward her.
“I don’t know if that was supposed to happen,” Stonebraker muttered, staring at the phone accusingly. She and Hammer hurried after Ted, followed by the cops and the rest of the group.
Aurora sprawled on the ground, eyes staring up at the sky blankly. Oh my God, was she even still alive? Ted crouched by her side. “Aurora?” He waved a hand in front of her face, then pulled her toward him, fumbling for a pulse. Did that even work in mice? Especially Dynamice? “Aurora. Speak to me.”
“Sir—” one of the cops said. Hammer held up a hand warningly to him. So did Stonebraker.
Aurora blinked and wheezed, taking in a sharp breath. “T…Ted…”
“I’m here.” He took her hand, ignoring the disgusted looks two of the cops gave them.
“Everything’s…gone…” Her voice rose in clear panic.
Stonebraker crouched a few feet away. “So it doesn’t force her back into normal mouse state. Huh.”
Aurora let out a wail. “Everything’s gone!” She cried frantically, leaping for Stonebraker. “Fix it fix it—”
Stonebraker stumbled backward. The cops leveled their guns at Aurora. “Down! Now!”
Ted caught the mouse, wrapping his arms around her as well as he could. She might have her nanobots disabled, but she was still seven feet tall and in markedly better shape than he was. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”
“I can’t—the connection is gone, the network, the rest of us, everything in my body—I’m just—just a biological mouse!”
“You are definitely not just a mouse. Bipedal, intelligent, beautiful. Come on.”
The cops, now looking less disgusted than visibly offended, stepped over. “Let’s go.” One grabbed Ted while the other grabbed Aurora, separating them.
Aurora wailed louder. The third woman who hadn’t spoken yet hurried over to her. Unlike the others, she wasn’t dressed formally, just in jeans and a plain forest green T-shirt. “Aurora?” She spoke gently, but her eyes were wide. She held out her hand, palm up.
The mouse looked at her. She didn’t take her hand, but stopped struggling.
“I’m Sally. I’m from the Sacramento SPCA. Do…do you know what that is?”
“Yes. I do.” Aurora straightened to her full height. Sally’s eyes got even wider. “I’m not going to let you put me in a cage.”
“You’ll do what we tell you,” one of the cops interjected, glaring at her, then turned back to Ted. “Ted Bishop, you’re under arrest. Hands behind your back.”
Ted glowered, but complied. The other cop cuffed him. Aurora clenched her fists.
“We won’t,” Sally said to Aurora. She glanced accusingly at Stonebraker. “We’re going to have to figure out the arrangements, since I wasn’t told what you looked like.” She turned back to the mouse woman. “But I promise we’ll keep you safe.”
“You have the right to remain silent,” the second cop said to Ted, following behind as the first one started to lead him away. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I’ve just read to you?”
“Yeah.”
Aurora looked at Hammer. “Can’t you stop them?”
“No. I can get him out as soon as possible, and make sure that Mr. Bishop invokes his right to an attorney, which he needs to do right now.” She raised her voice as she spoke.
“Uh. I won’t speak without an attorney,” Bishop said to the cops. “She’s my attorney.”
“Noted.”
“I’ll see you as soon as I can, Aurora!” he called. “Do what Ms. Hammer says!”
Aurora’s face fell. She swallowed, nodding, and looked at Hammer. Hackett got into Ted’s car and backed it out of the driveway.
Stonebraker stepped forward. “This mouse is still our property, still incredibly valuable, and the injunction gives us the right to ensure it’s secured.”
Hammer waved over the other silent young white guy in a suit. “Yes, and my associate here will tag along to supervise your supervision.”
“We didn’t approve—”
“Mr. Finley is going to tag along. Are we clear.” Her tone made it a statement, not a question.
Stonebraker grunted.
“So,” Hammer said to Sally. “Let’s figure out arrangements, Ms. Dimalanta.”