Hafas nodded knowingly. “That explains your willingness to walk the edge, then. But I can still envy you your perks even if I wouldn’t trade places with you.”
“Envy away. I hope we can help you out.”
The inspector turned serious. “I hope so too. If we don’t stop these jackings, even my seniority within the department may not be enough to save me.”
“Then you can imagine the opprobriums I’ve got to work under,” Manz replied.
The inspector nodded sagely. “You must be anxious to get to work.”
“Not particularly. But I don’t have any choice.”
“I’ll call on you tomorrow. We’ll go over to the Port’s Export Sector and I’ll show you the security setup there. Both Port Authority’s and your Company’s.”
“I’ve been through both on a simulator. Not the same as being there, though. Different level of detail and perception.”
“Naturally. You know about the small shipment that was consigned to”—his expression twisted—“Helios, I believe it was?”
Vrya responded. “We read the manifest on the flight out. One sealed shipping container, internal self-contained climate control. The whole thing about a meter square, inclusive of electronics and internal security.”
“I didn’t know the dimensions. The last four Braun-Roche-Keck transships have all passed through successfully. Don’t expect any surprises.”
“Is there any pattern to the thefts?” Manz inquired.
Hafas shook his head. “Big containers and small. Day and night. Sunshine or rain, hot or cold. Different classes of pharmaceuticals, according to the information subsequently supplied by your people. About the only thing they’ve had in common is that they’ve all been valuable.”
“Braun-Roche-Keck doesn’t make any cheap customizable drugs,” Vyra declared. She glanced idly at Moses. “You’re too close. Give me another meter.”
“I comply.” The mechanical promptly sidled sideways on its trackball. It managed to sound faintly sorrowful.
See? Afraid of machines, even when it comes to mere proximity. Though I admit that in the case of this particular device, the female may have more justifiable reason for concern. I’m not sure I understand its mind-set myself. So far I’ve had only the occasional brief information exchangelock with it, but some of its cognition programming strikes me as oddly skewed. That’s what happens when you stuff motivational and self-analytical software into a mobile Al. Sure it helps it to detect and repair internal failures, but the paths to repair and good health are necessarily variable.
Or to put it another way: cybernetically speaking, what you see ain’t always what you get.
“I think you’ll find,” the inspector was saying, “that we’ve taken every standard precaution as well as a few nonstandard ones. So have your own people. Their task is to prevent theft, ours is to solve it. Our mutual failures have us commiserating frequently. Though your people ultimately have more at stake, of course.”
“A number of individuals within the Company have been fired and others reassigned,” Manz informed him. “It doesn’t seem to have made any difference.”
Hafas looked solemn. “I realize there are careers at stake here. Being a family man myself, as I mentioned, makes me want to help on more than just a professional level. My wife is all the time telling me that I’m too empathetic for this line of work. I happen to think that’s what makes me good at it. Though apparently not good enough.”
“Don’t get down on yourself.” Vyra put a hand on his shoulder and, despite his experience and self-control, the inspector twitched. “Give Broddy and me a couple of weeks. We’ll eviscerate this modus for you.”
“I hope so. I look forward to watching you work. I mean …”
She smiled radiantly. “It’s all right, Inspector. I’m used to it. My whole life has been one long double entendre. Took me years to get used to it, less to learn how to turn it to my advantage. You don’t have to apologize for your thoughts.”
“But I wasn’t thinking anything,” Hafas assured her, a bit too quickly. When her smile only widened and he realized that he was making a fool of himself, he returned her smile as best he could, bowed slightly, and excused himself.
Manz moved to stand next to his colleague. “You shouldn’t do that to the poor man. He has a family.”
She glanced down at him. “I didn’t do anything. You know that. You of all people should know that.”
“Just teasing. You’re going to have to ugly yourself up, or our preliminary checkout tomorrow is going to take longer.”
She put a long index finger on the tip of his oft-broken nose. “Now, Broddy, you know I couldn’t do that if I tried.”
Fascinating display, isn’t it? Astonishing the variety of attributes humans ascribe to one another based on mere physical appearance. No matter how hard you try, no matter the effort expended, all that can ultimately be adjusted are superficialities. Artificial alteration of eye color, hair, keratin, melanin. Remove or add fat or muscle. That’s about it. Can’t do anything much about your skeletal setup, nervous system, any of the other internals.
Yet based on subtle and wholly irrelevant minor differences in the aforementioned, you decide who among you is “attractive” and who is not. Very rational. Note the contrast in methodology. You determine attractiveness based on externals; we machines decide such matters after careful evaluation of what we observe internally.
Now you sit there and tell me which is the more evolved approach.
By the way, your hair is a mess. And the rest of you could use some work, too.
There wasn’t much to unload. Manz’s luggage consisted of two pieces, one containing personal items and the other his field gear. Vyra was similarly equipped.
After storing Moses and the Minder for the night, Manz met Vyra in the main hotel restaurant. After shooing off the cloud of admirers she involuntarily beguiled the way San Francisco Bay attracted fog, they took some time to catch up on old times. Though the circumstances of her abortive marriage had been less than traumatic, she preferred not to go into detail about the fiasco, which was fine with Manz. They managed not to talk shop for the entire meal, which pleased them equally. There would be ample time for that in the days to come, when it would be unavoidable.
For now they relaxed in the pleasure of each other’s company, old friends reminiscing. Following dessert and after-dinner drinks, he proposed, she demurred, and both retired content (though she more so than he).
An hour later she emerged from her bath to find the door to the connecting workroom ajar and a silent presence in her room. She made no effort to strategically drape the towel, nor would it have made any difference if the intruder had been human. Vyra did not suffer from nudity phobias.
“What do you want, Moses?”
The mechanical’s plastic lenses gave no clue to what it was thinking. “I am pursuing my research. I hope I do not give offense.”
“Only a little. I’m more curious than offended.” She moved to a chair and sat down, working the towel over her damp amethystine locks. “Broddy mentioned that he’d been having trouble with you. What sort of trouble might that be?”
“Nothing of consequence. Some programming glitches. I am in the process of isolating and eliminating them.” The mechanical rolled nearer, its trackball humming softly. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
