IT WAS THE oldest trick in the book and it still worked beautifully, despite what anyone else expected.

The big man had been contacted two days ago, and a plan was spilled out within hours. It pieced together like a rather straightforward heist, for the most part. He was given insanely detailed images taken by Photogirl of the U.C. Harnessing Way-Station (but sadly enough she'd neglected to include any self-portraits, a fact he'd have to bring to her attention sometime), from which he would need to draft up a way into and out of the complex. Then he was instructed to steal (or, as he preferred to refer to it, "appropriate") one of the information communication consoles the technicians carried and get it back to Ven as soon as possible.

fscked provided him with a Perdendosi detail worker's uniform, and suggested he may want to enter the Way-Station as unobtrusively as possible, reserving the outfit for his exit. This made sense. There was no point in calling attention to his arrival or departure, and he'd have enough trouble trying to smuggle out an info-comm once inside to have to fuss with the other details. For any normal appropriation, it would have been the way to go.

But he saw that just wasn't the best idea for this job. Too expected, too contrived, too likely to fail...too ordinary, something this situation definitely wasn't. The best ideas were simple and so obvious you'd never think of them unless you were geared toward thinking that way. And he was. Misdirection was always the key factor in a successful enterprise.

This was part of ElBandito's gift, being able to discern relationships and group dynamics between individuals. He could quickly determine patterns and probabilities between masses of living beings just by observing them for a period of time. They didn't even need to be present; by studying a room, the objects in it and their functions, he could get an idea of who had been where, what each item in the room was used for and who it likely belonged to. It was one of the more esoteric talents of the Children, and it suited him nicely.

It allowed him to see where the collective focus of a group was and how it could be influenced by a little mental sleight-of-hand. (Consequently, he was an excellent judge of character, and could now spot those with similar talent - like politicians - from a hundred yards off.) He could get a job working for practically any company and within weeks have enough information to embezzle whatever he needed. He could walk into a social function and within hours stuff his pockets with diamonds and pearls.

But if you asked him, that never happened.

ElBandito could see there were some specific problems with trying to pass himself off as a Perdendosi. He studied the photographs almost non-stop for a day, making numerous mental notations. The aliens had distinctly colored hair, always black at the temples, and the males didn't appear to grow facial hair. He would have to color his and shave his mustache and goatee for this, neither of which appealed to him, but he'd gone to further lengths before for less important scores. They didn't wear eyeglasses either so he'd have to ditch his, but since the Acid Bath they were more an affectation than anything else.

But the most important issue was one of bodily mass - he just wasn't built like a Perdendosi, and no amount of misdirection was going to hide that fact. Maybe there were Children that could pull it off in passing, but he wasn't one of them.

At first, Ven and fscked were surprised when he called to say he wasn't going to wear the uniform; then they were alarmed. Then - to his ears - they sounded almost frantic. He tried to allay their misgivings with the fact that he was a pro and knew what he was doing. Still they felt he was hanging his hopes on something slimmer than what could support the weight of his task.

They strongly pleaded with him to reconsider; at least that's how he took it. In truth, he knew if he didn't succeed and somehow managed to escape, fscked would probably kick his ass so bad he'd ask for Perdendosi asylum. He fully understood their concerns but felt they were being far too worrisome about everything.

This would be easy, and even if it wasn't, he'd make it look easy. He was that good.

He now pulled his car up to the gated guard post at the entrance to the Way-Station. In the daylight, the hue of the buildings was much more subdued. What was strange was he felt like he was intimately acquainted with the layout of the compound, even though he'd never been there before. This was good, since it made him more relaxed than he really had a right to be.

He rolled his window down as he approached the post's window. Inside was a Perdendosi guard, and outside he was buffered by two foot soldiers. They were each at least seven feet tall, and stood there regardless of the elements. Their biological composition was a mixture of reptilian, arachnid and both Terran and Perdendosi canine DNA and RNA. They were bred to withstand environmental extremes, and to instinctively induce fear in humans. They were also, by nature, loyal beyond measure to their masters and followed directives implicitly.

The big man looked at the soldiers and their guardsman without a trace of fear. This wasn't foolishness on his part, however; the chemical reaction that would have caused it in a normal Terran was absent from his bloodstream, as it was with all the Children. The Acid nullified it. And he played it up thoroughly, since it went along with his ruse. He could always start trembling with mock-anxiety if the situation grew tense. The guard now silently, solemnly waited for him to explain why he was there.

"I'm from SupraDyne Technologies, upstate," ElBandito said, casually. "They called me in for some systems checking audits on Level Three."

The guard's face scrunched slightly with a quizzical expression. "Why wouldn't they just call in a technician from Level Two?" he asked.

Unfazed, ElBandito responded, "These are the P-to-T interfaces for the humans. We usually handle these. They want me to make sure the specialized staff knows what they're doing and that it's running smoothly. Apparently there were some issues during the recent power outages."

The guard still hadn't completely unpuckered his face. He motioned toward the switches at his workstation. "Let me check with them. No one alerted me you'd be coming."

ElBandito held up a hand to make the guard pause. "Wait, it's supposed to be a surprise audit. If they knew I was coming that could skew the results. I only just got called in this morning. Here - " and with this he reached into his jacket and produced his first ace.

A work order. Twelve pages long, lined with paragraph after paragraph of corporate jargon, detailing in full the appointed duties of the worker burdened with it. The guard skimmed it over, and ElBandito knew it wasn't being read. Regardless of their advanced senses and abilities, no Perdendosi guard would bother to waste their time on such drivel. And that was good: one entire paragraph on page ten, written in micro-text, consisted solely of the sentence "Catch me if you can," repeated over and over.

Then ElBandito pulled aside his jacket and played his second ace: a letter-perfect ID badge, with holo-etched logos and morph-ink-stamped text in English and Perdendosi, clearly identifying him as an employee of SupraDyne. Long ago he'd come to see there was no end of doors that couldn't be opened by the right name badge. It was the oldest trick in the book, sublime in its simplicity. Who needed an ill-fitting outfit when six-square inches of poly-resins would accomplish the same task?

"I've gotta be out of here by four o'clock," he said, feigning a brow-beaten weariness. And he was good. Without another word, the guard handed back the fabricated work-order, nodded once and opened the gates for him to enter. As he did, a photostatic beam of particles was etched onto the front doors of his car, flagging it as having been allowed to pass for the next six hours. The etching would evaporate within seven.

He didn't anticipate being there anywhere near that long.

---

SUPRADYNE HAD DOMINATED the technologies industry for the last three years, solely due to their allegiance with the Perdendosi. The alien race realized early on that conquering and enslaving the Terrans was completely unnecessary, not to mention it would have required an expenditure of labor that they simply couldn't afford. So they did the next best thing: they co-opted the local system of commerce and appealed to the capitalists. The rest was easy.

The capitalists had already enslaved the masses, after all. The hard work was done.

While Perdendosi technology was vastly superior to that of Earth, the task of replicating the former and integrating the two went to SupraDyne. Almost since their arrival decades ago, the occupants had been introducing elements of their sciences into the world. Slowly, purposely, they guided the humans from vacuum tubes to transistors to microchips and now well beyond. Laborers were now rapidly schooled in the specifics of alien quantum physics, and the advances were seen in everything from architecture to medicine to industry. Universe City was a testament to the marriage of self-interests and the Perdendosi technocracy governed without dispute now. To many in power, it was a complete trade-off. And a profitable one at that.

The only area where the occupants' stewardship of advancement remained absolute was in warfare. This was a tactical decision, and was also not questioned. After the uprisings died-down, the humans settled into their new role like sheep. They were allowed to keep their own guns and knives and bombs - they were of no real threat to their rulers. But weapons of true mass destruction were forbidden from Terran hands.

Still, a few got out there, as well as a few other clever devices.

SupraDyne/Perdendosi technology was embedded in almost every wall of the Way-Station compound -- with the exception of the Level One laboratory in the Battery building, and everything below it which existed as its own sub-entity. The automated doors and windows, the workstations, even the commodes had all been designed by the company. The rigid corporate protocols of SupraDyne actually meshed with the occupants' systemic directives quite evenly.

ElBandito had noticed this while studying the photographs. That was why he'd picked the company to mask his visit to the compound. He'd used his connections to come up with the templates for their badges and papers. The rest was simple enough. All corporate entities worked pretty much the same.

He now hovered over a Perdendosi toilet in the men's room, taking aim at the bowl with a handful of crystalline-looking "flushers". He'd used them in the past and they had yet to fail him. He dropped them in the water and sent them spiraling through the transit system of waste and refuse of the Battery building. Within minutes the clever devices would all be in place.

He strolled into the hallways of Level Three and walked past several quads filled with a mix of Perdendosi and Terran workers. He was basically looking for just the right spot to continue his charade, with just the right amount of confusion already present. Understaffing could be good, but overstaffing could be good as well. It was a matter of improvisation now, so he took his time.

In West Wing 0516 he found what he needed in the form of a temperamental quad manager who was doing his part to further enslave the masses. He loudly dressed-down his staff for not being competent enough at their jobs and daring to smile at one another while they were supposed to be engaged in serious work. If they weren't careful, he warned, someone was going to get their ass fired and it sure as Hell wasn't going to be him. He was tired of doing all their work and having to see that nobody forgot their duties - there was obviously the need for some major changes amongst his staff.

ElBandito walked over and tapped the raging Napoleon on the shoulder. "I'm here to do a surprise audit," he said. The look on the quad manager's face was priceless.

"I didn't hear anything about a surprise audit," said the Q.M., ears red with frustration.

"That's why it's called a 'surprise'," said the big man, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Actually, you should have received a notice two days ago to expect me sometime within the week."

The Q.M. quickly snatched up his blue-glowing info-comm and swiped his hand repeatedly across the recessed screen. "There's nothing here about any surprise audits," he said.

"I have confirmation here that it was received by your office, along with my checklist of specs to assess." He handed over the mock work order, plus other dummy papers he'd assembled to make a show of the presentation. He hefted the duffel-bag on his shoulder, filled with an assortment of tools and computer parts that served no purpose other than helping him blend in. Except for one device.

The Q.M. was beside himself with rage already, and demanding a member of his staff step forward to acknowledge their incompetence in giving him this information. Perdendosi workers who'd witnessed this peculiar little man erupt before were amused. His staff quivered. ElBandito wondered, while he rifled through the duffel-bag, if the Q.M. beat his wife and kids.

Inside the bag was a control module, synched with the flushers. He pushed a button, and deep within the caverns of the Battery, the clever little devices anchored themselves to the insides of water pipes, and began expanding and vibrating at a furious rate. They would crack through the pipes in less than one minute, and continue to vibrate until they ran out of power, cracking whatever else was unlucky enough to contain them.

The Q.M. took off his jacket and threw it at the floor in disgust. He'd almost flung his info-comm across the quad, but decided against it. ElBandito stifled a grin, and began a sixty-second countdown.

---

THE FRONT GUARD was watching the crowd of water-logged people from Level Three on one of his station monitors when he was notified a car was approaching to exit the facility. He checked the detail report from the scanner and turned to see it was the SupraDyne employee from earlier that morning. It hadn't even been an hour since he'd arrived.

"I'm going to have to reschedule," said ElBandito through his rolled-down window. He was soaked from head to toe, as was the duffel bag in the passenger seat. "Everything I came to check out will probably need replaced now. Including the materials I brought with me." He unzipped the bag to reveal what were apparently a bunch of short-circuited components. "Guess my luck just isn't too good today."

The guard silently nodded once and buzzed him out of the compound, then went back to watching the silly Terrans mill about the third floor of the Battery. At the center of the screen, a peculiar little man was almost in spasms he was so angry. Reports were zipping back and forth about what caused the water mains to break, but the damage had been confined to that one area of the building. Unusual as the occurrence was, the work-flow probably wouldn't be pushed back by more than a day or two.

Several miles away from the Way-Station, ElBandito unzipped the bag all the way to check out the quad manager's info-comm, which was wrapped up in the jacket he'd hurled at the floor. Hopefully this would get the little dictator fired. In the inside jacket pocket was the man's wallet, stuffed with credit-cards and such. The big man would go home to towel-off and contact Ven to let him know the mission was a success, but first he'd find an ATM and empty out the Q.M.'s bank account.

If you asked him though, that never happened.

---