It made her wonder more than ever about Atin. She would have seized the moment and taken him aside to ask, because it troubled her, but she was interrupted by the return of Fi and Sev. Fi strode up to Atin and grabbed the datapad from his hand.
“A strange blue woman with no taste in men wants to see you,” he said. “Go on. Laseema’s complaining you haven’t said hello to her today.”
Fi had a knack for teetering on the edge of offense. He also did a very good job of pretending that Atin’s good fortune with Laseema didn’t bother him one bit. The aching little void at the core of him, so plainly detectable in the Force, said otherwise.
Jusik caught Etain’s eye: he spotted it, too. Then he looked past her toward the doors, and she felt something as well-anxiety and distress, very clearly emanating from a presence that could only be Ordo.
He strode into the room and began unfastening his armor, jaw clenched. Skirata just waited.
“So, did you have a good day at the office, dear?” said Fi.
“She’s not dead,” Ordo said. “Vinna Jiss is not dead.”
“Start again, son,” Skirata said.
“A woman my supervisor identified as Vinna Jiss walked back into the logistics center at sixteen-fifteen today.” He stacked the plates and sat down on the edge of a chair, completely calm except for the telltale gesture of one fist clenched on his knee. He looked up at Vau. “And it was her, or at least she looked the image of the woman Jusik picked up. In one piece. Are you sure you killed her?”
Vau raised an eyebrow. “Oddly enough, yes. Humans don’t bounce. I would have spotted that, I think.”
“Then who was that at work today?”
“You couldn’t be mistaken?”
Ordo didn’t even blink. “I remember everything I see in complete detail. I have eidetic memory. What I saw was the identical image of the woman we detained and who you took for interrogation. Of that much I am absolutely certain.”
“Fierfek,” Skirata said. “Options?”
“One, she’s a twin or a clone.” Ordo counted off on his fingers. “Two, she’s some kind of droid designed to mimic her. Three? A Clawdite. Shapeshifting is a useful skill for a terror group to recruit. But why would they want to mimic a dead colleague?”
“How about that supervisor?”
“I’ve logged her going into the ‘ freshers and searching lockers, but now I have no idea if she’s working alone or with this Jiss woman. She was genuinely angry when she saw her, though.”
“Because the other Jiss fouled up, maybe.”
“We need to do some surveillance on this resurrected Jiss. She’s supposed to be on the evening shift, so I’m going back to the center just before midnight and I’ll follow her when she leaves.”
Jusik’s lips parted but Etain was faster off the mark. “I’ll come with you,” she said. “I’ll be able to tell you whether she’s a droid, at least.”
“I can do that with sensors,” said Ordo.
“I’ll come with you anyway.”
Ordo turned to Skirata. “I don’t like mysteries.” He was clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Kai’ bait: I’m not resolving this as fast as I should.”
“Son, this is never a fast game. We’re making good progress. Take it easy.”
But Ordo wasn’t the type to take it easy. He joined the contemplation of the holochart and picked up Niner’s datapad. “I’ll take a clip of those Dust rounds, please, Bard’ika,” he said. “Just in case.”
Skirata drew his stubby Verpine handgun from his holster. “Better use this, then. More compact than the rifle.”
“Thank you.”
Etain stood with Vau, watching the erratic progress of the markers around the chart. A hard decision lay within it: at what stage would Skirata feel it was safe to bring CSF in on the surveillance? When would he share information with them? Etain understood his anxiety, but the simple mathematics of the situation was that CSF would be needed sooner or later.
Ordo began logging more locations into the datapad. His jaw muscles were working visibly. It must have been hard for a man used to being smarter than anyone else except his five brothers to handle the ordinary mortals’ world of being dumbfounded a lot of the time.
“Oh,” Vau said suddenly.
“What?”
“Tell me what this building is.”
Jusik interrogated the database in the holochart emitter. “CSF Divisional Headquarters.”
“Well, well,” said Vau. “How illuminating. Why is one of our tagged bad guys going in there?”