The fast-penta's probably taken by now, although this is a little sharper than Ivan thinks drugged people are supposed to be, so he comes up with another. "Aaand - there is no list of suggestions - okay, what's my name?"

"Ivan Xav Vorpatril, or that-idiot-Ivan to your relatives when you aren't in earshot. Except me. I like you. You may be the only person I've ever met whose company I would describe as soothing."

Ivan snorts. "Okay then." Maybe "sharp" is just how Mark is on fast-penta. "Did you kill Thad Corrigan the used groundcar salesman?"

"No. Except in the sense that if I'd been closer by when it happened, I might have intervened. The person you want is upwards of six and a half feet tall, skinny as a rake, scratchy voice. I didn't see his face. He didn't see me, either, or I would've had to kill him to get away. Ex-black-ops, probably did not part amicably from original employer. It was a dispute over noise complaints, and it sounded like the final word in a long series, so he must have lived or worked nearby or otherwise had cause to be in the area frequently - but if he has any fucking sense at all he'll be off the planet by tomorrow, so the window of opportunity in which to find him may be short. Of course, he might not have any sense. Many people don't."

"How wouldn't I? I saw him. He fudged the vid pickups on the way in - I wanted to know what he was up to, in case it turned out to be interesting - caught the tail end of the argument when I followed, heard him pull the knife. Messy fucking job, that. Poor vehicle merchant never stood a chance. Such a fucking waste."

"How'd he fudge the pickups?"

"No, it's fine. It depends what is recorded, you see. I want you to have information about the murderer. What I don't want is a record of the personal things, like that I find you soothing, or that the reason I take such trouble to hide from ImpSec is because I can't stand the thought of an intelligence agent watching me have panic attacks or break down crying in dark corners. Fuck, it was inevitable I was going to get into shit like that, it's like trying not to think of a pink elephant except the elephant is my staggering emotional instability. You see why I didn't want anyone else here? It's embarrassing."

"Thousands. If I knew anything about him beyond what I learned following him for a minute and a half, I could start to narrow it down. I think, though, that if he isn't offplanet he'll be going about his life as normal. That's my read on his personality. Either assume you didn't get away clean, and run, or assume you did, and act like it never happened. I can relate. Except I wouldn't fucking kill someone over their groundcar alarm."

"Responsible of you. I meant more along the lines of could you tell which way he went down the street."

"Wouldn't matter if I did. He was on his way to disappear. I'm familiar with the process. If the direction you take away from the scene of the crime and the direction you plan to end up in are at all correlated, you're doing it wrong."

"Anything else I ought to be asking you about the murderer?"

"No. We've been through it all. You could ask me embarrassing personal questions, I wouldn't even kill you afterward. But I might flee the planet never to be seen again."

"Well, they didn't give me an antagonist, the batch we had was recalled for some reason. I can leave you alone while it wears off, or park here with you, what d'you want?"

"Now there's an embarrassing personal question if ever I heard one. What do I want. I'd rather you stay but I can't imagine it's going to be a pleasant experience, I'm bad enough with my filters on, what must it be like to have to listen to me when I can't stop myself? What is it like? I honestly can't tell. It comes and goes, this empathy of mine. Usually too late to do me any good."

"It's fiiiine," he says, drawing out the word into a lazy sigh. "I'd only feel catastrophically betrayed if you'd done it on purpose. Accidentally saying things you shouldn't is part of your charm. And I'm not nearly too far gone to tell the difference."

"My charm. Right."

"You're very charming. You have to have noticed I think so. It's not like I've been hiding it. It's my bloody tell! Do you know how hilarious that is? I do a perfect Miles, except to you, because I like you too much. And it's solid, too. I couldn't hide it if I tried. The fear of physical contact will go away eventually, but you will be delightful forever."

"I'm used to charming normal people. Mostly girls. It's still weird that I have charmed you by total accident, initially while you were pretending to be Miles, who trusts me inconveniently vast amounts but doesn't like me much to speak of."

"Inconveniently vast," he snorts. "You are reliable, so he relies on you. You are valuable, so he values you. It's strange... I actually don't think I could put him on, right now. I've spent so long refusing to exercise the option, it's indescribably bizarre not to have it at all. But I can still see into his head just fine. Ha, you could ask me embarrassing personal questions about Miles... he'd forgive you. He'd forgive you just about anything."

"I only like annoying Miles in quantities he doesn't have to explicitly forgive me for to be okay afterward."