to fool. It would be a good idea if we could avoid boarding parties."
"That's exactly what I was going to say," Hannah said.
"Okay, let's get to the business at hand," said Jamie. "You're the senior agent. What's your carefully thought-out, rigidly logical plan for managing the search?"
Hannah shrugged, rustling the fabric of her iso-suit. "I never know how to do a search until I'm there and about to do it. I don't want to get all mystical or anything like that, but I always try to listen to what the search area, the crime scene, is telling me." She paused for a minute. "And this one is trying its hardest to lie to us."
"What are you talking about?"
She gestured to indicate the whole of the Adler . "This ship is saying empty. Untouched. Unused. Climb back through the docking tunnel to the Sholto , and her interior sure doesn't look that way. We've taped research notes to the wall, stowed our luggage less than perfectly--by the way, you left your socks on the deck again--eaten meals, and done any number of other things that leave traces. Signs of habitation."
"So what?"
"So there's none of that here. Even allowing for the fact that Gunther and his crew had to do a very nasty cleanup job--removing the body and the pilot's chair and any, ah, decay products and so on--the place is too clean." She looked around, and shook her head. There were two small lockers off to one side of the air lock, meant for stowing personal effects. Hannah stepped over to them and opened them up. "Empty," she said. "It should have jumped out at both of us when we first came through the ship," she said. "Where is it all?"
"All what?" Jamie asked.
"His personal items," she said, gesturing at the empty lockers. "Courier runs aren't brief-and-go jobs, the way a criminal case usually is. They're scheduled in advance. I checked the records. He had more than forty-eight hours' notice that he was headed out on this run, and he had been on Sherlock -class ships before. He knew how Spartan they are, and his planned mission would have him cooped up on this thing for eight days outbound and eight inbound, with only about a day off-ship in between. And he wouldn't need to do the usual panic-stricken study-in-transit job either. He must have known he was going to have time on his hands. So what did he do to keep from getting bored out of his mind? Where are his books? His movies to watch? Every agent in BSI is nuts for crossword puzzles. I keep four or five books of them in the Ready-To-Go duffel in my cubicle back in the Bullpen, plus books, movies, that sort of thing. They're in the Sholto right now."
"For that matter," Jamie said, "where are his clothes?" There was a larger locker on the opposite side of the air lock intended for hanging up shirts, jackets, and trousers. Jamie opened that as well. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing at all to meet with the very, very clothes-conscious Metrannans. What did he do, live in one set of shipboard coveralls for the whole mission?"
"Not unless he wanted to be beheaded for insulting his hosts," Hannah said. She pulled a datapad out of her iso-suit's outer pocket and worked the controls. "Lemme just check the manifest for his mission."
"That wouldn't have a detailed inventory of personal effects," Jamie objected. "Just a report that the agent had carried his standard Ready-To-Go duffel or whatever other luggage he had."
"I know," said Hannah. "But it does report his RTG duffel and one other 'suitcase containing personal items for use in transit.'" She looked at Jamie. "So where are they? Where are the suitcase and the duffel? And where is his suitcase full of fancy-dress clothes for Metran?"
"Gunther and his crew must have taken all that stuff off," said Jamie.
"No," said Hannah, checking the datapad again. "They didn't. They did a detailed inventory of removed items--and none of his clothes or personal items--or the luggage itself--the RTG duffel bag or the other suitcase--were listed."
"They must have taken them
"That's exactly what I was going to say," Hannah said.
"Okay, let's get to the business at hand," said Jamie. "You're the senior agent. What's your carefully thought-out, rigidly logical plan for managing the search?"
Hannah shrugged, rustling the fabric of her iso-suit. "I never know how to do a search until I'm there and about to do it. I don't want to get all mystical or anything like that, but I always try to listen to what the search area, the crime scene, is telling me." She paused for a minute. "And this one is trying its hardest to lie to us."
"What are you talking about?"
She gestured to indicate the whole of the Adler . "This ship is saying empty. Untouched. Unused. Climb back through the docking tunnel to the Sholto , and her interior sure doesn't look that way. We've taped research notes to the wall, stowed our luggage less than perfectly--by the way, you left your socks on the deck again--eaten meals, and done any number of other things that leave traces. Signs of habitation."
"So what?"
"So there's none of that here. Even allowing for the fact that Gunther and his crew had to do a very nasty cleanup job--removing the body and the pilot's chair and any, ah, decay products and so on--the place is too clean." She looked around, and shook her head. There were two small lockers off to one side of the air lock, meant for stowing personal effects. Hannah stepped over to them and opened them up. "Empty," she said. "It should have jumped out at both of us when we first came through the ship," she said. "Where is it all?"
"All what?" Jamie asked.
"His personal items," she said, gesturing at the empty lockers. "Courier runs aren't brief-and-go jobs, the way a criminal case usually is. They're scheduled in advance. I checked the records. He had more than forty-eight hours' notice that he was headed out on this run, and he had been on Sherlock -class ships before. He knew how Spartan they are, and his planned mission would have him cooped up on this thing for eight days outbound and eight inbound, with only about a day off-ship in between. And he wouldn't need to do the usual panic-stricken study-in-transit job either. He must have known he was going to have time on his hands. So what did he do to keep from getting bored out of his mind? Where are his books? His movies to watch? Every agent in BSI is nuts for crossword puzzles. I keep four or five books of them in the Ready-To-Go duffel in my cubicle back in the Bullpen, plus books, movies, that sort of thing. They're in the Sholto right now."
"For that matter," Jamie said, "where are his clothes?" There was a larger locker on the opposite side of the air lock intended for hanging up shirts, jackets, and trousers. Jamie opened that as well. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing at all to meet with the very, very clothes-conscious Metrannans. What did he do, live in one set of shipboard coveralls for the whole mission?"
"Not unless he wanted to be beheaded for insulting his hosts," Hannah said. She pulled a datapad out of her iso-suit's outer pocket and worked the controls. "Lemme just check the manifest for his mission."
"That wouldn't have a detailed inventory of personal effects," Jamie objected. "Just a report that the agent had carried his standard Ready-To-Go duffel or whatever other luggage he had."
"I know," said Hannah. "But it does report his RTG duffel and one other 'suitcase containing personal items for use in transit.'" She looked at Jamie. "So where are they? Where are the suitcase and the duffel? And where is his suitcase full of fancy-dress clothes for Metran?"
"Gunther and his crew must have taken all that stuff off," said Jamie.
"No," said Hannah, checking the datapad again. "They didn't. They did a detailed inventory of removed items--and none of his clothes or personal items--or the luggage itself--the RTG duffel bag or the other suitcase--were listed."
"They must have taken them
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