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Artemis thumped to the street in front of the Factory and shook a thin coating of ice from the edges of her wings before folding them. The weather had turned nasty, typical for this area, with a freezing mist making the air feel even colder than it actually was. She turned to enter the complex and gave an exasperated sigh when confronted with the new fence and gate. "Three days and I still can’t remember this is here," she muttered to herself, unfurling her wings and backing up a few steps to loft herself over the barrier.

Just as she was about to take off, a familiar voice started yelling, "Artie! Artie! She took Antoine! You gotta get him out before she hurts him! Artie!"

Artemis swung her head around to see Keisha running full-tilt toward her, tears streaming down her face. The dragon dropped her head to block the girl’s rush. "Calm down, Keisha," she said soothingly. "Who took Antoine where?"

Keisha skidded to a halt just short of the dragon’s muzzle. "A big black cat lady took him in there!" she shouted, pointing at the management building of the Factory. "She’s gonna hurt him. I just know it! You gotta help him, Artie!" The fox kit stood there, panting and looking scared and miserable.

Must be the new security person, Artemis thought to herself. Blanche did say she was a black feline. "I’ll take care of it, Keisha, but I need some information first." She peered at her little friend. "What was Antoine doing inside the fence in the first place?"

Keisha ground her toes into the street nervously. "He said not to tell," she whispered. Artemis cocked her head and waited. The girl wriggled about a few more minutes, and then concern for her brother overwhelmed her duty to not be a tattletale. "He was gonna paint the buildings," she said softly. "He climbed the fence and was gonna make s’more pictures, and then that mean cat lady grabbed him and took him inside and I don’t know what to do!" The last came out as a wail, accompanied by more tears.

Artemis nodded and shushed the child. "Calm down, calm down. I’ll take care of it. Now, is your mama home?" Keisha nodded miserably. "Okay, here’s what we do. I’m going to go inside and see what’s going on. You go get your mama and bring her to the gate. I’ll have someone let you in and we’ll get all this straightened out." Keisha sagged with relief that a big person was going to take over, then ran off to her home. Artemis turned, took a few running steps, and launched herself over the fence, landing next to the management building, which also housed the security offices.

She pictured the blueprints in her head, then walked around to the back of the building to find the door marked ‘Security’. She stared at the fur-sized door for a moment. "I told Blanche we needed bigger doors," she muttered, then tapped on it with one talon before pushing it open. "Knock, knock, anybody home?" she inquired politely before sticking her head through the opening.

Artemis started a bit when the black jaguar whirled and dropped into a shooter’s crouch, her jaw dropping as she aimed an automatic pistol between the huge golden eyes confronting her. "You know," Artemis said thoughtfully, looking at the gun, "unless you have armor-piercing bullets in that thing, all you’re going to do is give me a headache, even at this range." The cat blinked twice, but the gun never wavered. "I’m Artemis. I work here. I live here, in fact. Didn’t Blanche tell you?"

Ebony closed her mouth and slowly lowered the gun and stood, still watching the dragon warily. "She didn’t mention your species." Artemis chuckled. "I caught your trespasser." Ebony stood aside, revealing a teenage mel. Artemis studied him carefully. He was built like a fox – same ears, pointy muzzle, and bottlebrush tail – but instead of the normal russet fur with black accents, he was black with white hands, feet, throat, and tail tip. He also looked extremely nervous.

"Wh… what are you?" He asked in a wavering, awed voice.

"I’m a dragon," she replied with a smile, which seemed to make him even more uncomfortable. "Didn’t your sister mention me?"

The monochromatic fox’s eyes widened until Artemis was afraid they would fall right out of their sockets. "I thought she made you up," he whispered.

"Afraid not, Antoine," Artemis grinned. She turned to Ebony. "His mother and sister should be waiting at the gate. Would you bring them in please, so we can get this resolved?" The cat nodded and headed for the front of the building through an inner door, since the back door was blocked by several tons of dragon. "So you’re our mysterious artist," Artemis said, turning her attention back to the cringing fox. "Just out of curiosity, why have you been decorating our buildings?"

She watched him form and discard several responses before he answered. "They were there," he said with a shrug.

"This place is pretty boring to look at," Artemis said thoughtfully. "However, you were trespassing, which is illegal. You will have to be punished in some way." Antoine slumped in the chair, glumly awaiting his sentence. Several minutes of silence passed, then the inner door opened and Ebony escorted Keisha and a matronly, middle-aged fox in a worn but scrupulously clean coat into the room.

"Oh, thank you, Artie!" Keisha exclaimed as she ran over to hug her brother. She turned and pointed at Artemis. "This is my friend Artie, Mama," she said. "I told you she would fix things."

Dragon and fox sized each other up for a moment. "How do you do? I’m Brenda. Keisha has told me a lot about you." Artemis nodded in greeting. The woman turned to her son. "We will discuss this at home," she said sternly, causing the boy to slump even further. She turned back to Ebony. "Will you be pressing charges?"

Ebony looked to Artemis, who stood silent for a moment, impressed with the fox’s composure. Most couldn’t meet her eyes without trembling. "I don’t think that will be necessary," she said slowly. "After all, no real harm was done." The boy brightened. "However," she continued, much to Antoine’s dismay, "I do think some sort of restitution should be made."

Keisha’s mother took a deep breath and sighed. "We don’t have much money, but he will pay whatever you think is appropriate."

"Actually, I had something of a trade in mind, rather than a fine," Artemis corrected. She turned to Antoine. "You’re right. The buildings are kinda plain. So how about you fix that. You paint my home and the computer lab for free – I’ll supply the paint. If I like what I see, we can discuss the rest of the property and payment for your work." She turned to his mother. "Does that sound fair to you?"

The woman thought, looking at her son. "He can only work on weekends," she said. "I won’t have this get in the way of his education."

Artemis nodded, smiling. "That is acceptable." She held out a talon to Antoine. "Welcome aboard."

* * * * *

"Hey, Gardner," the guard called. "Your lawyer’s here to see ya." The rabbit stood and brushed the dirt of the vegetable patch off his coveralls, then headed for the main building.

His progress was suddenly blocked by a young wolf who had gang symbols shaved into his head and facial fur. "Awww… what a sweet wittle bunny wabbit," the wolf drawled. "Wanna play chase, bunny?"

Much to his surprise, the wolf found himself flying through the air to land in a heap on the ground. Two hulking tigers leaned over the rabbit. "You okay, Brett?" the larger of the two asked. Brett nodded, pulled a bag of green leaves out of his pocket, and handed it to the tiger. "The good stuff?" the other whispered furtively. Brett nodded again. The two felines hi-fived each other and walked away grinning. "You da man," one hollered over his shoulder. The rabbit just shook his head and continued on his way, vaguely annoyed that circumstances had forced him into paying for protection with illegally grown catmint.

In the visiting area, only one table was occupied. Brett stopped and stared, confused. His lawyer was an old rat, a public defender whose clothes never fit quite right and always stank of onions and old cigars. Instead of that tired attorney, two lovely, well-groomed fems sat at the table. The feline was snowy white, her long fur perfectly groomed, her purple suit beautifully tailored and obviously expensive. The weasel next to her almost glowed in a pumpkin-orange suit that contrasted sharply with her rich brown pelt. "Brett Gardner?" the cat asked in a pronounced Southern drawl. The rabbit nodded slowly. "Have a seat," she continued, indicating the chair across from her. "My name is Blanche du Chat, and this is my attorney, Helen Waite." Brett sat, wondering what other charges they had decided to manufacture against him. "We’re here to offer you your freedom and a job," the cat said with a smile.

"I’m afraid you’re wasting your time, ladies," Brett said, frowning. "I’m serving twenty to life for five counts of involuntary manslaughter. I don’t think the position will be open that long."

Helen reached into her briefcase and pulled out two folders. She opened the first one and set it in front of Brett. "This is a pardon, removing all charges from your record," she said, her face expressionless. She opened the second folder and set it beside the first. "This is an employment contract. Sign the second and the first goes into effect."

The rabbit closed both folders and crossed his arms. "I don’t sell out," he said firmly. "Not to government, not to big business. Find someone else to make your profit."

Helen sighed and turned to Blanche. "I told you this was a waste of time," she said. "Let’s go."

The feline peered at her companion. "He was at the top of the list," she said pointedly. "If we come back without him, she is liable to come down here herself to talk him into it." The weasel started to shrug, then her eyes widened. Blanche smiled sourly. "You did say you didn’t want any publicity about this."

Helen took a deep breath and faced Gardner, her expression determined. "The Idea Factory," she began, "is a think tank of sorts, dedicated to practical research. It is privately funded – no government grants, no big business money. I handle the legal aspects, Blanche is in charge of financial and administrative details, and her partner, Artemis, directs the science activities." She glanced at her notes, then continued. "You will have freedom to choose what you work on, provided it has practical application. While Artemis may make suggestions of areas of study, they will be just that – suggestions. You will have input on what is done with any patents you acquire, and will receive fifty percent of royalties, sale proceeds, etc. Twenty-five percent will go to fund additional research, and the remainder will be used for bonuses, salaries, and so forth. We have a 32,000 square-foot, four-story warehouse set aside for your laboratory, and your first task, should you choose to join us, will be meeting with the architect and contractors to decide how the lab should be laid out, and what equipment and supplies you will need." Helen set her notes down, clasped her hands on the table, and spoke earnestly to the slightly stunned rabbit. "This is the closest to complete research freedom you will ever be offered, Dr. Gardner. Artemis insisted that the first scientists we hired be creative, diligent, and good at what they do. You were the first one she wanted us to hire. She was quite adamant that you were the best person to head up the botany research and that we should do whatever was required to bring you on board."

Brett sat, his mind racing. My choice of research, my own lab, no government lackeys breathing down my neck – it almost sounds too good to be true. "What am I supposed to live on until I develop something I can patent?" he asked, trying to find the catch in the offer.

Blanche smiled and pointed to the folders on the table. "If you’ll look at the contract, you’ll see salary information, as well as a sign-on bonus." Brett opened the contract and glanced down, barely able to contain a gasp when he saw the amount of money they were offering. "I realize housin’ may be a problem right away," she continued, "so I’m offerin’ the use of my guest house until you find a place to live." She grinned. "Transportation will be provided as well, if you don’t have a car of your own. Really, Dr. Gardner, we’ll do whatever is necessary to hire you. Won’t you at least consider our offer?"

The rabbit examined the offer, tempted by it but still wary. Suddenly, something in the lawyer’s pitch clicked. "You said the person in charge of the actual research is Artemis?" he asked. The two women nodded, then glanced at each other and back to him. "Is this the same Artemis who was doing a variety of research at a military base in New Mexico?"

The women exchanged a long look. "Yes, it is," Blanche answered slowly. "She decided that she could accomplish more in a less… rigid… setting."

"I’ve been corresponding with her for a while. She is absolutely brilliant." Brett smiled, thinking and if she’s half as pretty as she is smart, this could be the perfect job! He began flipping through the contract, then looked up at the women. "So where do I sign?"

* * * * *

Artemis circled the area over Keisha’s building, peering down into the streets until she spotted the trucks from the construction company. She landed in front of the stoop just as the first truck turned the corner. "Rise and shine, Mr. Miller!" she bellowed. "The sun is shining and it’s a beautiful day for a new beginning!" As she waited for the super to make an appearance, the rest of the trucks pulled onto the street and parked, idling noisily.

Just as Artemis was afraid she would have to try to worm her way into the building to find him, the door opened. A middle-aged possum, filthy khaki pants and a ratty bathrobe covering his greasy fur, stood blinking in the thin winter sunlight, muttering curses. "Good morning, Mr. Miller," Artemis said cheerfully, wearing a toothy grin.

The aging mel looked up and abruptly panicked, faced with a huge fanged lizard. He flailed around a bit, then sat down hard. Artemis heard a giggle and spotted Keisha peering out the doorway, a handful of other tenants behind her. "What th’ hell are you?" Miller asked in a slurred voice.

Artemis leaned down so she was eye-to-eye with the abruptly seated possum and nearly reeled from the stench coming off of him. "I," she said loudly enough for those standing in the hall to hear, causing the hung over super to wince, "am the new owner of this building, Mr. Miller. And you are fired." She swung her head around to four very large construction workers standing beside the first truck. "Would you four be so kind as to escort Mr. Miller to his former residence and see that he removes his belongings please?" The four grinned and nodded, having been prepared for this by Artemis before leaving for the site.

They climbed the stoop, two of them taking Mr. Miller by his arms, their noses wrinkling as they got a whiff of him, and the other two opening a path to the super’s apartment. "You can’t do this to me!" he yelled as he gained his feet, struggling with the mels who held him.

Artemis leaned in close and spoke very softly, so that only Miller and the two holding his arms could hear. "Oh, I can, and I have. You should be grateful, Mr. Miller, that I prefer my meat cleaned and cooked." She pulled back as the sudden, sharp scent of fresh urine hit her, smiling at the spreading stain on the possum’s trousers. Glancing at the front of the building, she saw that many of the tenants had gathered in the entry hall as well as at the windows. As the construction workers dragged Miller off to his apartment, Artemis raised her voice again. "Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Artemis and I am the new owner of this building. I apologize for the early hour, but there is much to be done and I wanted to get as much done today as possible." The sound of a motor caused her to glance around, spotting the catering truck pulling into the vacant lot next to the building. "To make up for dragging you out of bed," she continued, looking back at the tenants, "I have provided breakfast for all of you." A hearty cheer rang out at that announcement. "I would like to explain what I plan to do today, so if you would listen just a moment more I would appreciate it." She turned and waved the construction crews forward. "These ladies and gentlemen will be coming to your apartments and making a list of everything that needs to be fixed or replaced. Please tell them exactly what needs to be done so we can make an accurate list. After you have spoken with them, come down, get some breakfast, and meet your new super. Thank you for your patience and understanding."

The construction teams headed into the building as the three skunks she had rescued stepped shyly forward. "Are you sure about this, Artie?" the father asked, staring at the building apprehensively. "They aren’t going to trust anyone after what that last super put them through."

Artemis smiled down at him and the two children hanging onto his pants legs. "Mike, once they meet you they’ll know you’re what they want. Trust me. I haven’t been wrong yet, have I?"

The adult skunk shook his head, but still looked unconvinced. Suddenly, Artemis felt something tackle her right foreleg. "Hi, Artie!" Keisha chirped, arms wrapped around the massive limb. "Is this the new super?"

The dragon laughed, nodded, and performed introductions. "This is my friend Keisha," she said, swinging her foreleg around to the skunks, causing the fox to squeal with glee. "Keisha, this is Mr. Mike Entrekin and these are his children, Drucilla and Jackson."

Keisha let go of the dragon and solemnly shook hands with all three skunks. "Nice to meet you," she said formally, then broke into a grin. "Wanna get some food before the grownups get all the good stuff?" she asked the kids. They looked to their father, who nodded with a smile. "Race ya!" Keisha shouted and took off for the catering truck, the little skunks on her heels.

Mike and Artemis smiled after them, then were busy speaking with the tenants who were emerging from the building in twos and threes, all of them stopping to say hello before getting breakfast. "Excuse me, Artemis?" She turned to see Jason Philips, the head of the construction company coming toward her, a frown on his normally cheerful lupine face. "We’re having a bit of trouble with Mr. Miller. He refuses to remove his belongings."

Artemis raised her eyeridges. "He does, hmm?" She turned to Mike and the tenants gathered around. "Will you excuse me for a moment, please?" She strode back to the building, Jason hurrying to catch up. Stopping at one of the windows of the super’s apartment, she gently tapped on the glass to get the attention of the bear standing in the living room looking exasperated. He stepped over and raised the window. Artemis poked her snout inside. "Oh, Mr. Miller," she called sweetly. The possum stepped into the room, standing flat against the wall furthest from the window. "These gentlemen are here to help carry anything to heavy for one person to lift, and to make certain you do not damage the property in a fit of misplaced rage. They are not your servants." She grinned, making Miller press himself into the wall. "You will be removed from the premises in two hours with whatever you have managed to get out of the apartment. The rest will remain here for the new super. I suggest you get busy." The possum’s mouth opened and closed a few times with nothing but the occasional squeak coming out. Artemis pulled her head out of the window, still grinning, and headed back toward the main gathering of tenants.

A group of tenants, led by Keisha’s mother, stopped Artemis halfway. "Good morning, Brenda," she said with a smile. "Nice to see you again."

Brenda smiled and nodded, then turned serious again. "We would like to ask you a few questions, please." Artemis cocked her head, listening politely. "The two most important questions first. Are we going to have to pay for the repairs to our apartments? And how much is our rent going to go up?"

The dragon blinked in surprise. "You most certainly will not be expected to pay for the repairs. Building maintenance is the owner’s responsibility, not yours. I checked to make sure." The group of furs sagged a bit in relief. "As far as the rent, what are you paying now?" Brenda named an amount, and Artemis had to put a foreleg on her tail to keep it from lashing out in anger at the way these people had been robbed to live in a building just this side of being condemned. "I was thinking more along the lines of…" She named a figure half what Brenda had told her. "If all the apartments are occupied, that will provide enough to cover the property taxes and routine maintenance."

The tenants looked stunned, trying to grasp their sudden good fortune. "Could we have that in writing, Artemis?" Brenda asked.

"Absolutely," the dragon replied. "My lawyer’s assistant should be here any minute with the new lease agreements."

Brenda finally smiled. "Thank you. I hope you can understand our worry."

"I can, and it’s legitimate." Artemis caught sight of Jason heading for her again. "It looks as though my contractor needs to see me. If you have any more questions, I’ll be happy to answer them later, if that is acceptable." The tenants nodded and headed back to the breakfast. Artemis swung her head around to meet Jason. "More trouble with Mr. Miller?"

The wolf shook his head and grinned. "Nope, he’s moving and moving fast now. This isn’t so much a problem as a question." Artemis made a ‘go on’ gesture. "Some of the tenants have construction experience and have asked if we’re hiring." He stopped, looking expectant.

Artemis thought for a moment. "If they know what they’re doing, and you can use them, I don’t see why not. They’re likely to work harder if they’re working on their own homes." Jason nodded in agreement. "Put them to work, then. Today if you like." She paused. "Hmm… I wonder…" Shaking her head to clear it, she smiled at the contractor. "Anything else?" Philips gave her a quick rundown of what they had found so far, then went back to work. The dragon lowered her head to the ground, eyes closed, lost in thought, half-formed plans whirling around in her head. At one point the corners of her mouth quirked in a little grin as she murmured to herself, "And won’t Blanche be surprised…"

* * * * *

Leroy stood across the street from the police station, hands clasped loosely in front of his knees. He knew that turning himself in was the right thing to do, but he hated to give up his freedom just because he had believed those idiots. His grip tightened until his knuckles turned white as he tried to keep from hitting something or someone – whatever was closest. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned slowly, breathing deeply, trying to get his temper under control. Beside him stood a white, longhair feline dressed in worn jeans and a University of Georgia sweatshirt. "Excuse me," she said in a soft drawl. "Are you Dr. Leroy Brown?" Leroy nodded once, abruptly. "My name is Blanche du Chat," she continued, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. "May I buy you a cup of coffee and offer a better alternative than self-incarceration? If you don’t like what I have to say, you can still turn yourself in." He shrugged and began walking toward a nearby coffee shop, figuring it couldn’t hurt to have one last jolt of caffeine before going to jail for the rest of his life.

As they walked, Blanche studied the scientist walking next to her. Dr. Brown was about six feet tall, with the incredibly long arms and bowed legs of his primitive orangutan ancestors. He was covered in tufts of orange fur and his face bore an almost permanent scowl. Blanche rolled her eyes, knowing this was going to be a hard sell. They entered the restaurant and the mel immediately sat in a booth, back to the wall. Blanche walked to the counter and returned with two coffees. Dr. Brown took his and blew on it, still scowling. "So what’s your alternative?" he asked grumpily.

Blanche reminded herself that he had to be good at his job if Artemis wanted to hire him. "Why should you lock yourself away just because you believed a smooth talker?" she asked. "Everyone gets fooled occasionally."

Leroy glared at her. "Because I got fooled," he spat, "eight children lost their lives. If I’m that dangerous, I should be locked up." Blanche sighed and tried to think of another tactic.

"Wouldn’t it be better to use your knowledge to come up with ways to prevent the bombs arrivin’ in the first place?" she asked after a few moments. "With your knowledge of explosives, you should be able to develop ways to spot them as well."

"Oh, yeah, sure," he snarled. "I find a new bomb sniffer, and the government takes it away and only gives it to the ones it thinks should have it. Lotta good that’ll do."

Blanche grabbed her tail and tucked it under her thighs so its twitching wouldn’t betray her mounting annoyance. "Look, have you ever heard of a researcher named Artemis?" she inquired, remembering the effect the name had on the botanist.

"Sure," he replied. "She developed the robotics for the newest bomb retrieval units the SWAT teams are using. Why?"

The cat managed to hide her surprise. She didn’t realize Artemis had completed any research in the last few years. "Artemis is my business partner. We’re startin’ up a think tank dedicated to practical research. She gave me a list of scientists to hire, and you were second on the list. If she ranks you that high, you must be a real genius."

The mel’s scowl deepened. "I’m damn good at blowing things up. So?"

Blanche didn’t quite manage to hold back a sigh. "Accordin’ to Artemis, you started out findin’ useful organic compounds with little or no toxic waste, but lost your fundin’. What happened with that?"

The sound of Leroy’s fist slamming into the table startled everyone in the room. "A government official came by one day as I was writing up an alternative fuel I’d been working on," he snarled. "He said, and I quote, ‘That should put those stinking ragheads where they belong – under our heels.’ I decked him. An hour later, they confiscated all my equipment and notes and escorted me off the property."

"That won’t happen with us," Blanche said, encouraged. "No government contracts, you work on what you want as long as it has a practical application, you have a say in how patents are distributed. As long as you don’t do anythin’ illegal, you can do whatever your little heart desires." She summoned up every ounce of sincerity she could muster. "Won’t you at least give us a try, Dr. Brown? You can always go surrender to the police if you don’t like the way we work."

Leroy shrugged. "Sure, why not. A few days won’t hurt." Blanche handed him the contract, watching him sign with angry strokes. "There," he announced, shoving the contract across the table. "Thanks for the coffee."

Blanche sat staring at the signed contract for a few moments as Dr. Brown stalked out of the restaurant. Finally she shook her head tiredly and muttered, "I hope that oversized hunk of lizard knows what she’s doin’."