“They did according to your people, who executed the deliveries. The exact contents of private commercial shipments aren’t our concern, and we’re not allowed to check on them.”

“What about one or more of the regular Port Authority guards who escort the Company’s shippers?” Manz wondered pensively. “Could they be doing something as simple but effective as switching containers when nobody’s looking?”

“Pretty unlikely. The shipper watches the guards and the guards watch the shipper. They’d all have to be in collusion, and they’re carefully scanned by your own people when they come out. Besides which, your Company alternates delivery and security personnel frequently. So does my department. A conspiracy large enough to include all the personnel changes that have been made since this mess began would be too unwieldy to keep secret, even if it were practical.

“Once a shipment has been locked inside the shed, the air’s exhausted and no one’s allowed in to check on it until it’s time to make the delivery to the appropriate shuttle.”

“The stuff just disappears.”

The inspector nodded. “One minute it’s safely locked inside, the next it’s gone. Just gone. No clues left behind, not a hint how it was done. No smell of gas, no residual heat: nothing.” He smiled humorlessly. “If I were a superstitious man, I’d ask to be taken off this case.”

“To the best of my knowledge, the spirits have no use for drugs.” It was a measure of his frustration that Hafas looked at the adjuster for longer than an instant to make sure he was joking.

“We certainly have a problem,” Manz added.

The inspector’s communicator buzzed softly for attention. He listened for a moment, murmured a brief comment before clipping it back inside his coat. “We certainly do. And it appears that the next one is on its way in.”

Manz checked his chronometer. He’d been so busy asking questions and analyzing replies that the time had slipped by.

A portly, well-dressed man in his late forties exited a doorway on the far side of the courtyard and strode deliberately toward them. At Hafas’s urging, Manz and Moses joined the inspector in backing away to leave a clear path.

The Company rep was flanked by two Braun-Roche-Keck security agents, large plain-suited men of menacing mien. An embossed titanium case was attached to the rep’s wrist by means of an unbreakable, uncuttable band of metal-fiber composite. As he approached, the delivery man met Manz’s eyes and nodded once, almost imperceptibly, in recognition. He would have been briefed on his arrival, Manz knew. Anyone he might potentially have to interact with would have been similarly informed.

As Manz looked on, the new arrivals entered the landscaped enclosure by means of the same bench he and Hafas had utilized. Probably the rest of the retaining wall was motion-alarmed, he reflected. They paused at the same spot on the narrow walkway while one of the security agents spoke softly into a communicator. At this distance Manz couldn’t see the green gridwork wink off, but a moment later the three men moved briskly forward.

Partly concealed by the vegetation, they halted outside the shed. The other agent spoke into his communicator, whereupon all three of them advanced.

The door slid aside, and even halfway across the courtyard Manz heard the muted whoosh as air rushed to fill the vacuum within. The three men entered in single file; guard, rep, guard. They emerged soon thereafter in identical order and the door shut behind them. Somewhere, he knew, a compression unit was silently sucking the air back out of the shed via a tube concealed in one of the building’s supporting pillars.

The three exited the raised, landscaped platform and disappeared through a waiting door on the far side of the courtyard.

“Want to watch while they pass checkout?” Hafas offered.

Manz shook his head. He already knew every detail of the procedure. Under constant surveillance from the moment they’d arrived, the three men would now enter a large cubicle. There they would remove their clothes, which would be separately scanned and checked. Naked, the two guards and the rep would step into an examination room where medical techs would read every part of their bodies. Anything they might have swallowed or otherwise inserted internally would show up instantly on the Company’s sensors.

“This isn’t so complicated,” he muttered. “We’re dealing with a klepto poltergeist.”

“Go ahead and make fun,” said Hafas seriously. “Me, I’m not ruling anything out. Not at this point.”

“I’ve got an idea. As opposed to a conclusion.”

Manz threw the inspector a look before turning to the mechanical. “So, give.”

“You won’t like it,” said Moses warningly, “but at least it doesn’t involve disproved psychic phenomena.”

“That’s encouraging. Go on.”

“Insects. Ants would be a logical candidate for the hypothesis. The jackers have trained or somehow learned how to direct ants. They slip in through an almost invisible crack or hole in the bottom of the shed, somehow manage to open up the case containing the shipment, and haul it out a tiny bit at a time. The material is transported through the ground to a prearranged collection point.”

“You’re right,” Manz confessed. “I don’t like it. But it’s better than anything I’ve come up with.”

“Same here.” Hafas eyed the mechanical with new respect.

“Analyze,” Manz said curtly, all business now. “Drawbacks. Air rushing through even a small hole into the vacuum of the shed would be quickly detected by monitors.”

“Well, a small portable airlock could be utilized. It would be difficult to build and install, but not impossible. Ants could survive in the vacuum for long enough to do the necessary work.”

“Maybe”, Manz conceded. “Continue.”

“The main difficulty as I see it is that it would take eighty million very clever ants working very rapidly and in perfect unison.”

“There’s another problem.” Mechanical and master both turned to the inspector. He indicated the large, free-form planter that contained both landscaping and shed. “That all sits on a solid, impermeable base. Excess water is removed by means of several drains, to prevent the plants from becoming waterlogged.”

“Ants can find cracks anywhere,” Moses pointed out. “Even in drainpipes or surfaces designated as impermeable.”

“I won’t argue with that. There’s one more drawback to your thesis. That landscaping includes some pretty expensive exotics. They’re sprayed and treated regularly to keep them pest-free. Unless your eighty million trained ants are individually equipped with environment suits, I’m afraid they’d succumb pretty quickly.”

“Nice try, Moses,” said Manz. “Stretching it a bit, though.”

Plastic lenses turned to face him. “It appears we are going to have to do a great deal of stretching if we are to find a solution to this problem.”

Manz grunted. “I won’t argue with you there.” He turned back to the inspector. “You might as well know that the Company’s trying something new with this shipment. It isn’t something visible to the naked eye.”

Hafas’s thick eyebrows rose. “I wasn’t informed in advance?”

“Sorry. Company policy. Trying to restrict access to new developments. Not that we don’t trust you, or your people, but …”

“You don’t trust me, or my people,” Hafas finished for him. “That’s all right. I’m not offended. In fact, I approve.”

“I thought you might.” Nice to be working with a real pro, Manz mused, even if he was only municipal civil service.

“In addition to the usual internal security systems, the case containing this particular shipment should now be emitting a faint photonimbus about a meter in diameter. Anything larger than the case itself enters that field, it’ll trigger a host of internal alarms. So will any attempt to move the case from its present position. Should either type of interference take place, the container will go berserk with lights, sound, and motion. That should set off every telltale in the place. The whole system is self-contained within the case, and only the Company rep who placed it in the shed can deactivate it.”

“Let’s hope so.”

They turned as Vyra materialized behind them.

“Find anything?” Manz asked her.

She sounded discouraged. “Standard Earthside shuttleport. Nothing unique about the security arrangements.” Catching sight of Hafas’s expression, she added, “Everything seems tight and optimally run. I didn’t see any obvious gaps. The few unobvious ones don’t appear to be any source for concern.”

“As opposed to the situation in here,” he told her. “Moses has theorized that ants are responsible.”

“It was merely a preliminary suggestion,” the mechanical reminded him.

“Inspector Hafas here is convinced that the various bug sprays the Port gardeners use render that hypothesis untenable. I’m inclined to agree with him, but we can check for evidence of bug-work anyway.” Hafas nodded agreement.

“Why don’t you two … three … go back to your hotel? If this shipment proceeds like the last few, nothing’s going to happen. By tomorrow morning it’ll be safely out of here. You can’t concentrate here, with all the conspicuous distractions. We need whatever ideas and suggestions your brains can come up with, and those might function better in more congenial surroundings. If it looks like anything’s brewing, I’ll get in touch with you immediately.”