Time was dragging on, and her own concerns were becoming gnawing fears. Since the first night there had been no alarms. Maybe Dodger didn’t need a watchdog. What, after all, did she owe him? Nothing, though he might think otherwise. Or maybe she, and Sam, owed the decker more than he expected. But she wouldn’t know one way or the other while she was stuck here in the Salish-Shidhe. Certainty required the sort of information-gathering that needed the personal touch. With ail the tools available to modem technology and magic, it was hard to guarantee that a conversation was not overheard. Keeping a telecommunications conference secret was harder.