They headed up the elevator while Mike prayed that it didn't stop for anyone else. Once they reached the 31st floor, he poked his head out to see if anyone was in the hall. When he was sure the coast was clear he shepherded them all straight to the door and keyed it open. He almost pushed them inside, then shut the door and locked it.

To their credit the girls hadn't said a word. They'd picked up that something serious was happening and they'd obeyed him without question. Mike wished regular humans could be so reliable.

Meela looked at him cautiously.

"Master, is there anything we can do?"

"I don't know yet. Let me know if you pick up any scans or access requests, okay? It looks like they might have figured out where home was."

He hoped Maria was okay. But she was an old hand at this. She probably had layers of backup plans and faked surveillance footage ready to go.

But then again they'd obviously blown through her security already. It was probably sensible to assume they were totally compromised at this point.

"Master..." Reema said. She put her hand on his arm.

"Thinking..." he said.

"Come sit down," Seema said gently. The two of them led him over to the living room.

"We're all in this together Master," Meela said as she drew the curtains closed on the big windows that overlooked the bay. "Tell us what's going on and we'll do whatever we can to help."

He flopped down on the couch and pointed to a cabinet.

"I dropped a bottle of scotch in there. This might be a good time to break it out."

Seema leapt into action and in just a few moments she handed him a glass.

"I never asked," he said. "Can you girls drink?"

"Of course," said Meela. "And we can get as drunk - or not - as you choose."

He didn't feel like worrying about how real it was, and waved his hand at the room.

"Drinks for everyone," he said. "Let's have a confab."

Seema poured one for everyone and soon they were all nuzzled up against him on the couch. He was worried and tense, but being surrounded by warm purring catgirl was enough to settle anyone's nerves.

He explained the situation to them as fully as he felt comfortable with - while avoiding the Aventine angle entirely. Obviously telling them he had someone out looking for a buyer wasn't going to go down well.

"So that's it," he said. "We have this place for a couple of months on false ID that I'm pretty sure won't get broken. But I don't know if I can show my face right now for any jobs. I'll try to get a read on that soon. To be safe, we're on savings for now. We're going to have to economize."

"Master, do you think Mrs. Blavatsky would tell the company about you?" Meela said.

He weighed it. It was business after all. She owed him her silence, but not her life. If they decided to push it hard enough then he wouldn't blame her for breaking.

"Unknown," he said. "Once I have a better idea of where we stand I'll consider whether we can touch base with her. In the meantime she's out of bounds."

In the meantime it's in everyone's best interest if I just drop off of the map.

Reema buried her head in the space between his arm and his side.

"Master, if you'll allow us, we will work for you to bring in money as well."

Seema nodded.

"Of course," she said. "I will do whatever you need. We all will."

He'd never even considered that.

"Making money? Doing what?"

"We've been researching that," Reema said, her voice muffled by his clothes. "There are many things we could do under secure anonymous contract."

"Nothing illegal," he said. "We need to keep the spotlight off of us."

Meela smiled and laid her head down on his shoulder. The points of her ears tickled his neck.

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"We don't need to do anything like that," she said. "We don't actually have to sleep, and the three of us have already worked out some estimates for how much additional income we could bring in if we spent most of our time doing work."

"You have?"

He'd never even considered the idea.

"Master," Reema said, "My technical background would allow me to tutor students at advanced undergraduate level in a variety of science and engineering fields."

Meela nodded. "My skill in languages is much the same. I can speak twelve major languages, as well as several Martian and some Belter dialects. We've already looked into this. Between the two of us we could likely generate between seven and eight thousand credits per month."

"Amazing," Mike said. "But I don't want you to be my slaves."

Meela shook her head.

"Slaves are forced to work unwillingly. This is something we are asking you if we may be allowed to do."

Seema sighed. "My background makes it harder to do that work, though I could certainly be an instructor in biology, medicine, and some biochemistry."

She looked up at him with a grin.

"But you have another plan?" Mike said.

"During the days I have been watching a lot of different shows, and examining the networking of fanbases."

He blinked at her.

"You don't mean..."

"If you'd allow Reema to set up a secure avatar and income schema, I believe I could create a persona - with Meela's assistance - which would draw sufficient traffic to begin generating income."

"You want to be a v-celeb?"

Reema finally pulled her head up out of his armpit.

"Master I've researched the implications and I believe it could be done with reasonable security. There are significant legal frameworks in place to ensure the safety and anonymity of such media personalities."

That’s nuts. That’s the opposite of good cover.

On the other hand he was starting to trust Reema’s judgment on technical matters. He’d need to look at it himself first, but pending his agreement he didn’t want to disappoint them if he could.

Mike stared back and forth at the three of them.

"How long have you been plotting all of this?"

Meela grinned mischievously.

"Master we only want to serve you. We have been thinking about nothing else except what would make you happy."

"You three are something amazing. Have I told you that? Because if not it's long overdue. You are all... well, you're a miracle."

He said it very sincerely. For the first time in as long as he could remember he was working with a crew he could trust, and who actually had his back.

Is it sad that they're... well, not robots exactly, but not exactly people either...

He shrugged mentally and decided he could find a way to feel bad about it some other day. For now their purring ramped up to eleven, and he was buried under a mound of deliciously warm and squishy catgirl. He decided he could afford to enjoy it while it lasted.

"Master..." Seema whispered. "It's late, why don't we all go go bed?"

"That's a brilliant idea," he said. "But there's one more job that needs doing before then."

"Give it to us to do," Meela said. "You've worked hard enough today."

"Won't take long," he said.

He regretfully pushed them all aside and pulled out his two regular phones. They were all securely layered through multiple proxy networks of course, but it would be insane to keep them alive now. He'd had them turned off since the call from Maria's own proxy. One final key combination would burn their memory decks with quantum-level efficiency. He could get by for basic comms with their new place's built-in units until he'd had a chance to pick up some new decks. He double-checked his own neuralink first to make sure it was disconnected - old criminals and bold criminals, after all - then burned the first of the phones.

The girls watched with interest, but there was nothing much to see. A brief flicker, and when he tried to turn it on again nothing happened.

"That's it," he said. "It's a pile of scrap now. One more to go."

He picked up his other phone, but instead of hitting the burn combo the moment it powered up, he stared at the blinking blue light in one corner.

"What is it Master?" said Reema, peering over his shoulder.

"Priority communication," he said. The only person who had access for that right now was Aventine. He had no active clients, so she was the only one it could be.

"Can they geolocate if you access it?" Reema said.

He wanted to pat her on the head for working out his exact worry like that. She really did pick things up quickly.

"If I keep it to the shortest package, text only," he said, "then no. But it wouldn't be safe to go even one step higher. They get 128 characters."

He paused and looked at her.

"What do you think?" he said. "Should I take the message? It's probably just business, but it might not be."

Reema frowned and her tail swished back and forth a few times.

"Even if we assume that they know you are our master now, we will only gain information by doing so. If there is nothing to be risked, then yes."

He nodded.

"Good girl," he said, then stood up. He knew they would accept him cutting them out of the loop like that - their loyalty was total - but he still felt bad about it.

He allowed a level zero priority text communication, expecting Aventine. What he was going to do if she'd already found buyers was a problem for tomorrow.

But once he read it, he sat back down on the couch again and showed it to them all.

THEY ARE IN DANGER. IF THEY ARE RETURNED THEY WILL BE ERASED. IF YOU SELL THEM THEY WILL BE DISASSEMBLED. LET US HELP. EA03BCB777A10DE3FCCCA4941C.

"Remember that key, okay?" he said to nobody in particular. He didn't want to write it down, and he didn't doubt for a second that any of the girls would be able to give it back to him ten years from now if he wanted.

Probably a hundred years.

"Yes Master," said three voices.

He burned the phone.