Rachel was finally getting frustrated. She had drifted through aisles and rows, past hordes of students in the nerdiest of garb, and was no closer to finding Sam. Which was strange, since Sam almost always alerted everyone to her presence with her ridiculous laugh and overly excitable hopping. Finding Sam was like finding a screaming baby on a plane, just louder, and less ear numbing. Which didn't speak well to Rachel's searching ability. She leaned herself back and used one hand to support herself. Rachel slid herself onto the waist-height table, finding a comfortable position next to a gargantuan bowl of neon pink punch. She shifted a few feet along the long surface, keeping safe from splashing distance, then balanced back again on a single planted wrist. With a brushing motion, she fixed her long brown hair behind her ears. Even if nobody here cared about appearances, she had an image to uphold. Rachel watched as a duo passed by, stopping to grab punch and pour a helping of the sweet liquid into clear, wide lipped plastic cups, then walked past the table, headed behind it towards the wall. Which was weird, as she was already on the outskirts of the booths, and all that was left behind her was a fire door and bare concrete. Another group passed by for some drinks, and took them to the nearest booth. Rachel followed them, listening to the presentation.

'Our latest algorithm is designed to speed modern data retrieval and encryption methods by nearly twelve percent. It's based on the principal of minimalist return, no redundancy, and we are working to discover any security flaws before publishing.'

Blah, blah, nerd stuff, blah. Rachel lost interest quickly, despite the beady eyed boy's enthusiasm as he gestured towards lines of some foreign code on a large projected screen. The observers were nodding, and Rachel questioned if they even understood a word he was saying, or just pretended to. Either way, it was boring. She just wanted to find Sam and Ivy and help her hapless friend land the guy of her dreams, then get out. Fast. This place was crawling with pimple faced, unshowered, ugly sorts, and the quicker she was outside, free of the stench of chalk dust and metal, the happier she'd be. Rachel stood off the table, hearing it creak as she shifted forwards. She dismounted without it collapsing, thank god. The last thing she wanted was to be responsible for flooding the fair in pink nectar. Or it might be funny to watch the bespectacled masses shy away from harmless sugar water. They would probably suspect an experiment gone wrong, some kind of caustic fluid seeping forth on a warpath of sci-fi destruction. Oh well.

Her thought was interrupted by a whisper. A loud whisper. From behind the booths. She didn't recognize the voices, and they soon quieted to an inaudible volume. A secret meeting, hmm? Finally something worthwhile! Rachel casually jaunted around the table, towards the side wall, ducking behind a red curtain that housed the latest and greatest in coffee filtering methodology. Out of view of the main venue, she glanced back to see if anyone had watched her slip under the fabric. From the small space between the outer and inner layers, she had a perfect view of the punch table, and nobody was standing there with a quizzical look or dashing off to find security. Spying was an art form, Rachel figured, and the only mistake was to be discovered. Especially if juicy gossip was on the line, or in this case, some surreptitious scientific secrets. At least, that's how her inner voice was trying to convince. Rachel smirked as she stepped sideways, working herself between the wall of fabric methodically. As she approached a corner, the voices had become far more distinct. One male voice, and one female, and she seemed rather upset.

'Listen, if we can get those two out of the picture, it'll be an easy payday. I've already spoken with two companies, and they want in. We make twice as much without them,' she said.

'I get it, I get it. But that still leaves dee-rag, and I doubt he's about to sell out before we've even begun final testing' he replied.

'Don't worry about him. He's like a lovesick puppy, I've got him wrapped around my finger. And if I can work out the details, well lets just say he'll be a much smaller obstacle. I wonder if he's a good swimmer.'

She laughed, he followed suit. It was like listening to a movie super-villain, right down to the evil cackle. And the ending was far too predictable. Obviously she was going to betray him as well in the end. They always did. Speaking of which, who were they?

Between the dark folds of red, Rachel searched for a crack. Lifting her trappings would be too obvious, she needed to find a slit to peer through and identify the conspirators. Damn, spying was fun. If she wasn't so obvious and pretty, she could have taken up espionage professionally. Crouched low, she tried to stay motionless while she listened, only glancing with her eyes and a rare turn of her head. Yet she the lining was socket free. How come it wasn't like the movies. There was always a peephole in the movies. The voices had begun moving away. Something about returning to finish something, Rachel couldn't catch the rest. The last she heard was a faint assent and then nothing. Too late. If only she had x-ray goggles, or a laser cutter, or hell, a pocket knife. A real spy had gadgets, but she was regrettably unprepared. Okay, enough playing around, Rachel mused, resuming a full stand and turning about face. She shifted herself back from the corner, towards the front wall of the booth, ducking back out towards the punch table and under the scrutinizing lights. Blinking a few times, Rachel felt her heartbeat assailing her chest. It only took a few moments before it resumed a normal pace, the jack hammer slowed to a light hum. Her eyes took several moments to refocus. Should she go around, maybe track them down? Blah, it was hardly all that interesting, who cared what business they were trying to shirk from their comrades. She strode away from the bowl, brushing past a few thirsty science lovers as she made her way down the final row of the fair. She had only taken two dozen steps when she finally spotted Sam. She was being dragged behind a booth by a Hispanic man with gorgeous looks. Ivy, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. So much for Plan A. Still, if she remembered the pictures correctly, the suave hunk was Ricardo, one of the members they had discussed. Which meant that Ivy wouldn't be far along. Rachel paused several paces from her dreamy-eyed co-conspirator, pretending to listen at another boring nerd display. She kept her eyes facing down the row, hoping to spot Ivy before the girl arrived and made a fool of herself. If she was too late, well, things were already shaping up nicely. Either way there would be some drama to watch.

And she loved a good drama.