Beach Blanket Bijou (Pajaro Bay) by Barbara Cool Lee Page B

bathing the yard in a warm, orange glow.
    She felt better after her swim, and was ready to get on with things. "First we'll film you with Bijou now, before we lose all the light. You try to get her to obey—"
    "—and she won't," he completed.
    "Exactly." She smiled at the pup, who was lying on the lawn eating grass. "We'll get some good footage of her being a brat—"
    "—and then by tomorrow she'll be ready to pass her Canine Good Citizen Test."
    "Not quite," she said. "I know it takes even the great Dr. Quinn a bit longer than that. But I want you to show the steps you take to work with an untrained dog, so viewers can see what to do to achieve canine perfection."
    Quinn laughed. When he laughed, which was all the time, little crinkles formed around his eyes. Carmen looked down at her notes. She knew Dr. Quinn the Dog Conjurer wasn't just popular on her station for his training techniques. The gorgeous smile and handsome features helped. A lot. Good thing she was immune.
    "Uh, oh," Quinn said.
    She looked up in time to see Bijou throw up grass all over the patio.
    "Maybe we should film that?" Quinn said with a grin.
     
    •••

    An hour later, they headed over to Mr. Cordova's computer lab. Quinn had been there many times over the years, but he still enjoyed seeing it. The place looked more like a teenager's messy bedroom than a laboratory, with Star Wars posters on the wall, a big whiteboard with indecipherable scrawls across it, computer equipment everywhere, and model race cars on the floor.
    Carmen rolled up to the big desk in the corner, where her father sat talking with his assistant, Ben Freitas. The surface of the desk was invisible under a stack of external computer drives, three rubber dinosaurs, and parts that looked like they came from a robot's arm.
    "Dad!" she said in an exasperated voice. "Look at this!"
    There was a huge aquarium on a stand next to the desk. It was impossible to tell if there were any fish in it, because the glass was covered in a thick layer of green algae.
    There was a magnetic aquarium glass cleaner attached in one corner. Carmen started swiping it across the glass, leaving swaths of clean glass across the surface. Several fish came into view, including a giant goldfish with huge, bulbous eyes.
    "Why hello, Beauregard," Carmen said with a laugh. "So you're still in there."
    Mr. Cordova was deep in what seemed to be a serious conversation with Ben. Though Ben had glanced up when they came in, Carmen's father seemed completely oblivious to their presence.
    Finally, Carmen poked him in the shoulder with one finger.
    He turned to her. He seemed almost asleep, with a distant expression in his eyes. "Um," he said eloquently. Then, suddenly, he seemed to focus, and his gaze sharpened into the same clever, quick-witted look that was so much like Carmen's. "Busy, Hon," he said.
    Carmen laughed, and Quinn felt a treacherous glow deep inside. Her smile lit up the room.
    "I love you, Dad, but you can be pretty oblivious sometimes."
    He focused on her. "About what?"
    "Dinner."
    He looked startled. "What time is it?"
    "After seven. Even if you don't need food, your assistant might like to take a break." She grinned up at Ben.
    "I'm fine," Ben said. He looked distracted, too.
    "What's wrong?" Quinn asked.
    Both men looked at him like he'd appeared out of nowhere. "Oh," said Mr. Cordova. "You're here, Quinton."
    Carmen seemed to finally notice their strange behavior. "What is it, Dad?"
    "Edmund is missing."
    "Who's Edmund?" Quinn asked.
    "The only other one with the chip." Carmen pointed at her skull.
    It was hard to believe that there was a chip embedded under her skull, all ready to read signals from her brain and send them to one of the computers in this little room. The computer could convert the brain waves into electrical impulses that could move her legs. Somehow. He didn't understand it. But it was almost there. Dr. Cordova's twenty years of research into the mechanics of paralysis had led