Endless possibilities floated through Ghost's mind as he watched New York City through the glass of the passenger-side window.  So many people, all so different.  If he wanted to he could step out of the vehicle and lose himself in this city in a snap.  The idea had a certain appeal given what he'd been through since waking up in the tree with the others.

His hearing listened to Nine as he guided the quiet twin to their destination.  Well, she wasn't exactly quiet anymore, he noted approvingly.  The young attractive blond had developed her vocabulary faster than anything he'd seen and was now speaking in two-to-three word sentences.  Her driving had improved equally fast, and she hadn't registered one of the disapproving hand gestures from one of the other drivers on the road since they left the others.  She'd even used one herself appropriately when another driver had cut them off at a traffic signal, smiling with her finger extended as the offender sped off.

As he had done many times since appearing in this strange land, Ghost closed his eyes and tried to remember, but there was nothing.  It was exceptionally frustrating, the not knowing.  He lacked purpose, and he couldn't shake a feeling of something left undone, of a sense of urgency to attend to something important.  Curiously enough he felt a sense of possibility and relief, as though a great weight may have been lifted from his shoulders.  The two feelings seemed at war with each other in his soul and he didn't have the context to know which side he should be hoping won out.

Nine turned to Ghost, a few blocks before their destination. "If I'm going to be of more use to our endeavors, I'm going to need thupplies. I theem to have an affinity for things thcientific, engineering, electronics, biologics, etthetera. Unfortunately I'm limited in my contributions by lack of rethourtheth. I notithed what appeared to be theveral retail ethtablishments near where we firtht thtopped. You theem to potheth thkills that would athitht in the procurement of what I need, should our monetary rethourtheth no be thufficient. Would you be adverthe to using them, to further our common cause of courthe." 

"Not at all," Ghost replied with a short shake of the head. "But we'll need to keep it simple at first, common items and the like. At least until I become more familiar with their typical security measures. As we become better acquainted with our new surroundings I'm sure I'll be able to procure most anything you might need."

"We're here," Nine said, and the twin's eager hand was probing at him excitedly to get his attention.

They had turned off of the larger avenue and onto one of the narrower streets.  An opening in the wall of buildings to their left easily large enough to accommodate their vehicle was decorated with signage about "parking" and what looked like a series of prices based on time.

"Go ahead," Nine prompted NotBetty before ducking down in the rear half of the passenger cabin.  "Go in and stop at that octagonal red sign."

NotBetty complied.  From a nearby booth with a glass top-half of a wall, one of two men with skin color similar to Al came out.  They wore black pants and a black jacket as a kind of uniform.  The one who approached NotBetty's window carried a stack of small printed tickets and a pen in his hands. 

He waited patiently outside the vehicle, watching her somewhat expectantly.  She placed her slender hand on the cold window and looked out at him for several moments, with a soft inquisitive smile on her face.  "Al like man."  She said quietly to the others in the car.

In response to her gesture, the man standing near the vehicle waved at her once and then made a repeated twirling gesture with his finger.

"He wants to speak to us." Ghost rapped on the window next to him with a knuckle. "Roll the window down," he said to NotBetty, "And let me do the talking."

Once the twin had pressed the button that controlled the window's height and lowered it, the uniformed man stepped closer and said quickly before preparing to write, "Good evening, ma'am.  How long?"

Not Betty's smile broadened at the man as he spoke, but she remained dutifully silent, her hand dangling to rest on the pleasantly cold exterior.  She watched him intently as he leaned forward and she studied the lines on his face and the appearance of his dark eyes.  She'd noticed in the short time she'd been interacting with the others and the occasional stranger, that the eyes sometimes said as much as the mouth did.  His were curiously questioning.

Ghost leaned over, smiling. "She doesn't speak the language very well," he explained. "And we are new to this city. How long what?"

"Sorry, sir," the man quickly replied.  "How long will you be leaving the car?"

Ghost nodded, understanding dawning. "Aah. My apologies." He thought quickly. "Twenty-four hours should be enough."

"One day... got it."  The man scribbled something onto a ticket and then tore it in half.  One of the halves he handed to Ghost through the window.  The paper was hard and shiny, covered with tiny printed words and a six-digit number in much larger font.

"You can leave it," he added.

Ghost reflexively glanced back at Nine as he took the paper, a receipt of some sort. Leaving it would imply that the man would park the vehicle, which would also preclude Nine's quiet departure. Perhaps the simian wouldn't be noticed...?

With a sigh Ghost nodded to NotBetty. "Let's get out here," he said, opening his door and motioning for her to do the same. "This man will take care of the vehicle for us. We'll walk from here."

"Walk."  NotBetty murmured in understanding as she pushed her door open and hurried over to Ghost's side.  She turned her back to him and shrunk into him as she took in the big parking garage with all of the sitting vehicles.  It only took a moment before he could feel her posture relax again and then he knew she was ready to follow when he was ready to go.

Nine hunched even lower into the floor space provided. Ghost's glance had told him all he needed to know. Their unfamiliarity with local customs and procedures could easily derail even the simplest of their plans. Nine regretted the decision to leave Mr. Fox during their flight. He could only hope Betty's abilities worked just as well on other residents of this city.  

Nine focused his thoughts on the more immediate of problems. Avoiding detection. The other two were clear, as soon as they left the vicinity. He need to escape notice by the attendant while the vehicle was being parked, then escape the garage unnoticed. 

A memory of the younglings toys at the residence surfaced. There were all manner of plush representations of other animal species, some very lifelike. If he minimized his exposure and remained absolutely still and silent, perhaps he would be mistaken for one by the attendant. People often saw what they expected to see, an often the best place to hide was in plain sight. He quickly arranged himself into a position that appeared casual, as if he'd been dropped onto the floor from the seat. Making sure his face and most of his body was facing the floor. He let himself go limp and began to breathe very shallowly. Planning to hold his breath whenever the attendant might be looking directly at him. 

The attendant, however, seemed to be in too much of a hurry to notice much.  Upon entering the driver's seat, he quickly and with practiced agility sped the large vehicle around in several tight circles as they moved deeper into the subterranean structure.  There was a quick stop, followed by some backwards momentum and another quick stop.  Then the driver hopped out and trotted off.

Raising his head just enough to see, Nine watched as the attendant entered what looked like a large industrial lift and rode it to what he safely assumed was the surface.  The orangutan was alone once more.  In the compartment behind his, the furthest back in the rear of the vehicle, Nine found a lightweight backpack.  He opened it and found it empty.  Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he quickly stuffed all of his found and salvaged gear into it.  It was overstuffed with both computers and the electronics, so it didn't close well. 

There wasn't much else to do.  Nine carefully ran his arms through the straps and adjusted them to a proper fit.  Escaping the vehicle was child's play, and he would deal with the rest once this crisis was over.  
 

* * * * *

 
It was a palace.  That was the immediate impression among the trio as Tom, Al, and Betty walked into the main lobby of the New York Mariott Marquis as it was called.  Tom and Al turned their heads around taking all the wonder in, while Betty did the same but with more of an approving eye.  This was more like it, she thought.  This was more her speed, or that was was what her gut told her.

The floorplan was an open-spaced atrium of immense proportion with arching, vaulted celings and all manner of displays of art and technology combined to form a pleasing aesthetic.  There were all manner of people going about their business and many of them were just as impressed, making their own reaction a thankfully not unusual one.

They were on a mission, however, and so they found a place on the dark veined marble floor where they could stand unassumingly and just watch for a while.  It wouldn't do to just walk up to someone and ask about a place to stay.  Nobody else was doing that, so they chose to see exactly what everyone else did do.

After ten minutes or so they thought they had it figured out.  There was a long multilevel counter where people would queue up and be attended to.  These people were given cards and directed to an area where about two dozen sets of sliding doors stood shoulder to shoulder.  Judging by the rate at which people came and went, it was likely that these led to where the living spaces were.  or at least, this was the general deduction of the threesome.

So to start, they'd have to deal with the counter attendants.  With firm resolve the three disparate-looking individuals entered the line.  They quickly found themselves looking across the light wood counter from a tall, elegant woman in a smart maroon jacket.  Her raven-black hair was perfectly straight and the smile on her aqualine features matched the one in her wide, pretty brown eyes.  She stood with excellent posture and acknowledged all three of them with her body language.  A gold decorative pin on her jacket's breast bore the name Paris.

"Welcome to the Marquis," she said as a greeting to all of them.  "Do you have a reservation?"

Betty offered the attendant a warm smile of her own, "No reservations, will that be a problem?" The princesses voice was engaging as she met the woman's gaze.  "We've just arrived in town and need a place to stay." She absentmindedly stroked the countertop with her fingers, appreciative of the fine surface.

The woman grinned uncertainly for a moment as her eyes met Betty's.  The twin could feel the instant connection she made when their eyes met - snap! - and the other woman's mind seemed to latch onto hers, however mildly at this first contact. 

"Um..."  The woman behind the counter was obviously the confident, reassured sort and found herself surprised at her sudden confliction as she continued to focus on Betty's eyes. 

"Yes... I mean, no... I mean, yes, I'm afraid that we're fully booked for the weekend..."  Even as she spoke the words, the woman's tone gave indications that she wasn't quite as sure as she had been only moments ago.

Betty's smile grew as she felt the pull of her power.  "Please," her head inclined towards the attendant, "Please, find us a room."  He sweet voice became slightly more demanding as she pleaded but remained calm.

The woman's breathing deepened, her chest rising and falling, and her eyes became lidded with a submissive, desperately devoted look Betty recognized from her time spent controlling Bob back at the house.  The pretty woman's glossy lips parted slightly while one of her hands idly rose, fingertips lightly brushing at her breast.  Her fall had been much quicker than Bob's, the young princess noted.

"Ohhh..."  A sound of desire mixed with affirmation escaped the woman before she looked down at a screen built into the counter.  Her delicate, Fench-manicured hands danced across a keyboard as she took half a minute to eagerly satisfy the spoken request.

"We have the JW suite available," she replied, quickly looking up to seek out Betty's eyes again.  When contact was resumed, she released a sigh of satisfaction.  "Or I could enter your name to the top of the waiting list for a regular room."

The princess giggled with glee, "Thank you.  Please give us the suite"

The attendant, Paris, nodded her understanding and returned her hands and attention to her keyboard.  Once more she clattered away with her fingers until a device near to her whirred and produced a sheet of printed paper.  She took the paper from the device and placed it on the counter in front of Betty along with a thin white stylus.

Staring rapturously once more into the pert young blonde's eyes, Paris asked breathily, "How... many keys?"

Betty replied after a brief glance at her companions, "Three please."

Tom tried (with no success) to keep the distaste of what they were doing - what she was doing - off his face. Yes, this was wrong. Yet this was also necessary if they were to have any chance of discovering what was going on without being constantly hounded. As he looked around the large room, noting the difference in how they were dressed as opposed to those around them, his scowl deepened. Who knew what devices were secretly recording their presence here? How many images of them were even now being sent to those men in their shiny cars with the wire in the back window? 

He hoped that Nine and the others were encountering little difficulty. True, the more the ape showed his superior intelligence the less that Tom trusted him, but...

But.

He sighed as the young woman continued working on getting them 'keys'. It would probably have sped the process up more if she would cease stopping every few seconds to gaze up at Princess in adoration.

He shivered.

Leaving Betty to secure their rooms, Al examined the lobby.  There would be cameras, he was sure of that.  In fact, if he concentrated, he could hear the whine of the motors as they scanned the lobby, focussing on one thing then another, not resting for any length of time.  Since their arrival in the city, Al had seemed a little subdued.  Truth be told the sheer weight of sensory input was getting a little wearing.  So many conversations going on all around them, so many background noises to filter and process.  He idly wondered how soundproofed the rooms here would be and how much of a chance they'd have to rest before being forced to move on.  This would provide a good base of operations for the time being.

For a moment, Al had the urge to close his eyes and he indulged it.  He found himself focusing inward in what must have been a mental exercise he recalled from somewhere.  He linked his breathing into his focus and, after about a minute of this, he found that he was able to add filters and screens to his perceptions.  Sounds dropped out, allowing him to focus on a single conversation in an atrium filled with hundreds.  The cacophony of incoming stimuli sorted itself out and he found a level of fine control over his senses that seemed almost unnaturally precise.

Al allowed himself a smile as he played his senses around the lobby, eavesdropping on a snatch of conversation before moving on to the next.  Trivial inconsequentialities they may be but you never knew where you might pick up something useful.

?