Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [85]
He came out with a sigh, securing his robe, wearing an expression of infinite patience. “Yes, Kim?” he said, emphasizing the aspirate.
She killed the sound and ran it for him. “Watch the seats,” she said.
He lowered himself onto the sofa. A table lamp burned steadily beside him. “What am I looking for?”
On the left side, the early conversation, the encounter coming to an end and Emily shifting her weight and beginning to rise. Kim stopped the picture.
On the right, the talk also winding down. Again Emily shifting her weight and getting up. Kim restarted the sequence, both images synchronized, both in slow motion. In each, Emily flicked the harness open with a graceful left hand and used the other to push off the chair arm.
She hit the pause function. “Do you see it?”
“I give up,” said Solly.
“Look at the seat.” The polymod fabric in the early sequence contained the unmistakable imprint of a human bottom. On the right, it was perfectly smooth.
“That’s strange,” he said.
They ran other sequences. Whenever anyone sat in the right-hand chair, the seat showed the imprint afterward before returning gradually to its own shape.
Anyone except Emily. Emily on the return flight.
But outward bound, she always left the imprint. Kim looked at the first conversation on the return flight:
“Can’t really expect to hit it right away,” said Markis. “We have to be patient.”
“We’ve been patient.”
“I know.”
Emily sat silently for several minutes. Then unbuckled. “Gotta go.”
Kane nodded as she rose.
Kim stopped the picture.
No imprint.
“Tell me what I’m thinking, Solly. You’re good at that.”
He scratched his head. “I’d say that on the return flight we’re looking at a virtual Emily.”
“So the logs are faked.”
Solly took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’d say so. But a missing crease in a seat isn’t compelling. Maybe the light wasn’t right.”
“How hard would it be to do this? To falsify a ship’s log?”
“It wouldn’t be easy. You have to get all the visuals right. You also have to make sure the data streams reflect the story you’re telling. When the Hunter makes a jump, the instruments have to show that.”
“Could you do it?”
“Fabricate a log?” His teeth glittered in the lamplight. “Yes. I think I could manage it. Given some time and the cooperation of my colleagues.”
“So why would they use a virtual Emily?”
“Because the real one wouldn’t cooperate.”
“—Or wasn’t functioning.” They stared at each other.
“It could be,” said Solly. “Look, no fraudulent log can stand up to a serious investigation. So, if you’re right, we should be able to show it convincingly. Everything on the visual record has to be consistent. The lighting is always about the same, but it changes as people move around in it. You’d have to match that up. There are too many details and there’s just no way to get them all absolutely right.”
She turned away from the screen and looked out at the city. “Kane?”
“Oh yes. It would have to be Kane. Have to be somebody intricately familiar with the ship.”
“Which brings us to the bottom line: What happened to Emily?”
“Let’s go slow, Kim. Let’s have the lab do an analysis and make sure you’re right.”
She nodded, sat down at the phone, and brought up the directory. She was looking for the Customs Service office at Sky Harbor. When she found it, she called through.
A uniformed officer appeared onscreen. “Greenway Customs.”
“Hello,” Kim said. “My name’s Brandywine. May I ask a hypothetical question?”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“Arriving passengers,” she said. “If anyone is supposed to be on a ship, but isn’t, you’d know, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. They have to pass physically through customs.”
“How about crew members?”
“They do too.”
“You have a manifest, then, and you check everyone against the manifest. And if someone doesn’t get off—”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I misunderstood you. If a person doesn’t get off, we don’t really care. We’re only concerned with people seeking entry onto Greenway.”
She decided to try another tack. “Does Customs keep a record of persons debarking from arriving vessels?”
“Yes,” he said.