They stepped out of the transport together, and the girls all gasped. He'd told it to stop right in the middle of the crowd. They'd be less conspicuous that way, but he also wanted to make an impression on them with the celebrations for the 4th.

This time he'd booked a pure AI transport, and had brought his little camera spoofer along for the ride, so that the four of them would look like pudgy middle-aged tourists. There was no sense in leaving a public record anywhere that he could avoid it, even though a million other cameras were all around them. Getting buried in the endless exabytes of public surveillance data was nearly as good as being invisible.

"Master," said Seema with her mouth wide open, "It's all so big."

He'd picked the location to give them an impressive introduction to the world. They were on the beach side of the road, and the sand right down to the water was crowded with tens of thousands of people, dressed up in an eye-dazzling array of colour and lights. It was almost hard to see where one person ended and another began as they shifted back and forth. Music blared from a stage further down the road, and above the platform whirled dozens of drones sparkling with lights and swinging around in patterns that made it look like they were constantly about to crash into one another. Three huge holograms towered above the crowd, strolling back and forth across the celebrations.

Across the street the glittering towers rose up into the sky and the windows reflected the lights of the 4th party down below.

The crowd was so thick and noisy that they had to stick close together and yell to be able to hear one another.

"It's the Fourth of July," he told them. "Big party every year. It's lucky I found you in time to come and see this!"

"I can't believe how crowded it is," Meela said.

"Should we be watching out for you, master?" said Seema.

"I don't think so, this is a friendly crowd."

She didn't look entirely convinced, and her eyes kept darting in all directions.

"What do you wish to do, master?" said Reema.

"It's not what I want to do, we're here to do what you want," he said. "But maybe don't call me master. It might sound strange if anyone hears."

"Yes sir," said Meela.

"Mike. Call me Mike. Please."

"Yes... Mike," Meela said. She looked uncertain about it.

Reema pointed at the bandstand further down the beach.

"May we go there? It might be interesting to see it closer."

"Lead the way," Mike said, gesturing.

They spent the next hour working their way up the beach to the bandstand, then listening to the music. Seema was watching people dancing with fascination, until Mike asked her if she wanted to go join in.

"No, please," she said. "It looks like fun but I'd rather stay here with you."

"What if I ordered you to do it?"

"Then I would dance. Would you join us... Mike?"

"I'm not really much of a dancer myself, but I'd like to watch you. That would give me pleasure. All three of you, go for it."

Seema shook her head.

"Then I would prefer to stay with you. It wouldn't feel right, to leave you alone in this crowd."

Mike sighed.

"Fine, how about..." he looked at the three of them. "How about Reema stays with me, and you and Meela go have fun for a few minutes."

"When should we come back?"

"We're off the clock here, come back when you're done having fun. Not before. That's an order."

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The two catgirls exchanged a look, and then nodded happily and scampered off towards the crowd.

Reema wrapped her arm around Mike's and put her head against his shoulder.

"Thank you for choosing me to stay, master," she said as quietly as was possible. "I'm much happier to be here with just you."

They found a spot to sit down, and just sat together listening to the music and watching Meela and Seema dancing together with the rest of the crowd. They were surprisingly lithe and acrobatic, and before long there was a small gap between them and the other dancers, with a few people watching them appreciatively.

"Does that..." Mike said, "Do you think maybe we should tell them to tone it down a little? They're really good but I'm worried they might be attracting too much attention."

"If you will allow me," Reema said, "I can tight-beam an encrypted burst at them with your suggestion. There would only be danger of it being picked up if there was another receiver within three meters behind them."

He frowned. Breaking radio silence was bad juju, but in a crowd this thick it shouldn't be a problem. The place was probably nuts with EM chatter anyway.

"Fine, but don't be too harsh. I want them to have fun."

"Will do, master," Reema said and stared at the two of them silently for a moment.

Both of their heads swung around to stare at Mike and Reema, and then they looked at each other and burst out laughing, falling into one another's arms like two friends who'd had too much to drink. They both bowed for their small audience and it looked like a few people applauded. Then they sauntered back over again.

"Hey, I didn't want you to stop!"

"It was fun," said Meela.

"But we're happier to be with you," said Seema.

"I liked your little act at the end," he said. "Very effective."

"Distractive improvisation is in my skills manifest," Meela said. But she looked a little proud about it too.

The fireworks started with a thunderous clap and flash over the lake, and instantly all three of them jumped to attention, looking wildly around the crowd.

"Relax," Mike said. "It's supposed to be that loud."

They clumped together against him, watching the fireworks. Eventually Reema leaned in and said, "I don't think Seema likes the explosions."

He glanced sideways at her, and her smile did look tense.

"Should we leave?"

"Not unless you want to, Master."

"We're here for you guys tonight. If the fireworks aren't a hit, we leave."

But suddenly Seema disappeared from Mike's side in a leap so lightening-fast that he almost didn't see it. There was a thump and a cry behind him, and when he turned he found her on top of a man, his arm twisted around behind his back at an entirely unnatural angle.

"Mike!" Seema said. "This man was trying to steal from you!"

It was just a kid, probably barely eighteen. Mike felt in his pockets and everything seemed to be secure. He must have been getting in close for a rapid RF attack. Sure enough, in the kid's hand was a shiny little scanner. Mike plucked it up and gave it a once over.

"Let him up," he said to Seema. "Don't hurt him."

The kid looked petrified. From his perspective Seema had materialized out of thin air on top of him and nearly pulled his arm out of its socket. He was scrawny and ragged, and Mike felt a little bad for him.

"Wouldn't have worked," he said, handing the scanner back. "The Naimichi R5 is, what, fourth generation QFT encryption? This neighborhood, you're going need better specs. Otherwise you're just hanging your ass out on the line for nothing."

The kid pocketed it and looked embarrassed.

"Sorry sir," he said, "I didn't mean any harm. Didn't realize you were... Sorry, really."

Mike waved his hand.

"No harm done."

Seema was still frowning at him.

"Should we find a police officer and turn him in?"

The kid's eyes went wide.

"What?" Mike said. "No, down girl. It was a misunderstanding, that's all."

Seema frowned.

"If you say so Ma... Mike."

"I say so." He looked at the kid. "You'd better go. I don't know if the leash will hold."

The kid flashed him a grateful look and disappeared into the crowd.

"Why don't we head out too, girls?" Mike said. "I want to show you all the last thing tonight!"

They moved out to the street while the fireworks continued exploding behind them. The bolt-hole was only a few blocks away, so they were there in no time.

Before they got to the door, a call flashed for Mike with a priority code.

"Nuts," Mike said. He wondered if Aventine had already found a buyer.

But the ID was scrambled, and the voice was obviously synthetic.

"Violet. Amethyst. Strawberry."

The it disconnected. Mike stared into space for a few moments, stunned.

"Master, what is it?" said Meela. Seema and Reema both turned their heads sharply to listen when they heard her tone of voice.

It was the bug-out code he'd whispered to Mrs. Blavatsky. His home was compromised. They must have blown through her security after all. For all he knew they had found some cam footage that he had managed to miss of him sneaking the girls into the building. This was bad. He could be made. Even the way the girls were dressed right now could be in their files.

He hurried up to the door and keyed it open.

"Inside," he said. "Fast."