Rael continued his task as the Exec rampaged about. He continued with his observations while still ready to help Jim if his confrontation got physical.

Real glanced at the exec noting the His ID Broadcast from his comlink. After attaching images and data he sent a message to Cal

@Cal [Rael]: FYI, we got someone trying to run us off our assignment and the vultures are ready to turn the decedent into parts. We are currently dealing with the situation .

"Mr. Pine-Hugh," Jim replies, "We're not authorized to represent Seattle in legal matters. If you take your concern to our management, I'm sure it can be resolved. Until then, we are obligated to carry out our assignment."

He attempts to optimize his analysis, prioritizing to make the most of available time before continuing, "Let me patch you through to them."

With that, he opens up a channel to Cal, including the rest of the team. <<Gurney's tagged, Cal; we're documented. But I'm not done yet. Got Ultin Pine-Hugh threatening to have security kick us out because Knight Errant is their subcontractor. Can I patch you in so I can get back to work?>>

Jim now faces Ultin, between him and the gurney, and has given up all pretense of continuing to work until this is resolved.

Pine-Hugh's brow darkens. "I don't care who gave you your marching orders! Frag your management, get out now!" As Jim opens the channel, he snaps to the interface: "Knight-Errant has no business on DocWagon premises, nor even hiring medical personnel, we'll see you in court over this."

Cal's cheerful voice comes through, only slightly tinny because of Jim's equipment: "Couldn't agree with you more. Ultin? Is that you? Hey, it's Cal with the Seattle government offices. Yeah, we wanted a second opinion so we didn't ask Knight-Errant to do this for us, we hired our own. By my records, they've taken possession of the corpse, so it's not DocWagon's problem any more, you can relax."

Ultin Pine-Hugh shows no sign of relaxing. If anything, this news seems to embitter him greatly. "We have a commercial interest in all bodies passing through here! An established commercial interest, and you cannot confiscate private property like that!"

Cal rejoins with: "Oh, I'm sure they'll give it back once they're through, won'tcha, Jim? But as of right now, it's evidence, so if you want it back, you have to wait until the case is closed. After that, all yours, baby!"

Ultin seems to find this to be very cold comfort, and his fists unclench and reclench twice before he growls between his teeth: "Then get your fragging evidence out of here. We'll bill you for the use of facilities." With this, he turns on his heel and marches out, a picture in tension and aggression with flexing jaw muscles, beetled brows and a back straighter than a hangman's rope.

Cal responds with: "Sure thing, you do that ... oh. He's gone. Oh well. You guys do what you do best. Keep making friends."

From behind a corner, Mark peers out. "Wow. Gave his adrenals a good workout."

Cadwgan quietly sends his video file (or tries to anyway) to Jude and Ophelia for stress readings and other analysis, as well as saving a copy for future reference. It may or may not be admissible as future evidence, but it may come in handy, and there's nothing like a permanent record for reviewing. Once Ultin Pine-Hugh's gone, he steps forward to remark, "So, I need to do a side trip to where the body was found, as it's locked down tight enough for me not to be able to examine it from here. I'm heading that way now so we can clear as much ground as we can."

Real finished his studies. He saved all of the notes and data on his comlink. He looked up and said So far we have two crime scenes that need to be investigated, unless our Doc or mage has a way to instantly clone me I am willing to go the scene with the highest priority

"In the interests of expediting return of DocWagon's property, I will complete the examination on site," Jim observes to the air and various recording devices. "Removing the body unnecessarily may further contaminate the scene, and would necessitate special transport." With that, he devotes his full attention to completing the examination, largely ignoring what's going on about him but continuing to provide running commentary and detailed recordings.

Jude's searches are starting to bear fruit - although not perhaps of the sort she had imagined. Instead, it is the absence of data concerning the well off and the well regarded who might have gone missing which is ultimately notable. Whatever is going on doesn't seem to have affected the news in any measurable way. As for Binogen, there are recent reports of a disturbance there, and speculation that the megas are interested in uglier types of competition with Binogen, but it's just speculation.

Jim's work on the corpse starts to reveal some hard facts.

• She died of asphyxiation.
• The state of her organs is consistent with the body being an accelerated maturation clone.
• Her abdomen is somewhat bruised, but appears to have been under substantial pressure perimortem.
• She has cybernetically enchanced eyes, but only for cosmetic purposes. The bulk of her eyeballs is intact and original.
• Her brain is massively underdeveloped, but it hardly mattered while she was alive since she has a bunraku cortical override installed, complete with current personafix and supplemental skillchips.
• It will require analysis but her body shows traces of bioware in several glandular systems.
• She apparently had a DocWagon implant, but that has clearly been removed.

Quite a few crimes seem to have been committed here. Some of the cyberware seems to be lacking serial numbers.

There is more information to be had, with time for analysis. Perhaps the original genetic code would let Rael do a reconstruction of an original appearance, or it could be matched to a database of sorts. Perhaps more information could be found at the locus in quo. However, for more detailed work Jim will either want his own lab or a longer lease on this body. It can't go away for a while.

Jude hovers near the elevators, just within range of the body to ping any technology that will talk back. She dutifully records the appropriate information into official records and starts cross-referencing as she can. She simultaneously runs a search for individuals who install similar hardware or are associated with cloning. Publicly, Jude looks for hints of celebrities who associate with 'cloned individuals,' especially individuals with a temper.

She attempts to access the bunraku cortical override to learn more about the personafix and skillchips without corrupting the evidence.

Cal, do we have anywhere to store people? I mean bodies back at the office? I think Jim wants to take this one with him. And...how do we take it?

On the Binogen case, she sets searches for press on the company and anyone talking negatively about the company. She checks out mentions of security systems and corporate partnerships.

Ophelia's eyes were flashing (figuratively) and her smile disappeared during the previous discussion. Her good cheer seems to be restored with the departure of Mr. Ultin Pine-Hugh. “Well, that was interesting. Do we need me to go get my pickup truck?”

Cadwgan gets an extra smile when he gives her the recording. She begins to analyze it and profile Mr. Ultin Pine-Hugh, now that she's in a calmer mood. Specifically, she's trying to decide whether Mr. Ultin Pine-Hugh, currently their leading suspect, is the murderer or whether he got bribed to dispose of the evidence, or whether he got blackmailed.

“Did you say bunraku, Jim? I should have guessed. There's nothing like playtime gone wrong to embarrass people to death or into killing.”

Ophelia starts notes on a second profile, that of the killer. She takes special note of the fact that the killer may well have been taking his rage for the original of the clone out on the clone. This may mean more deaths in the future if the killer wasn't satisfied...

“Cadwgan, do you want me with you for West Ruffner Street?”

"While you'd be welcome, I don't know how interesting it'll be. I'm afraid my work isn't very visual." Cadwgan smiles and hefts his satchel. "Let me know when we have an idea of what the victim looked like; that will help a great deal with all of us, I think, but it'll definitely help with some of what I do. Hmm. Actually, let me check one thing before I go. A reconstructive drawing or program wouldn't be a bad idea, though."

He steps forward, careful not to get in Jim's way, and props himself against a wall, wedging his satchel behind his ankles. Focusing on the corpse on the table, he attempts to check for spiritual traces, astral signatures, and any other signs that the murder, and any other details, were more than technological. Doubtful - but he gets paid to be thorough. Once that's done, he can see about heading out or not, depending on what happens.

Jude cracks her neck while she lingers against the wall. "I'd love to see the location when you head out, Cad." An involuntary smile graces her lips.

While she waits on search results and tweaks queries, Jude jacks up the volume on her internal comm. Nothing like a little Japanese pop/dance music to help weed through data.

If one of you can set up transport, I can continue this wherever, Jim notes off-record, But I want to keep going here while I can, time seems to be of the essence. He electronically verifies that he has not received the requested information from DocWagon regarding the signal timing and alarm that triggered pickup, then fills out a court application, citing the evidence identified in the preliminary evaluation (which he also attaches electronically, and digitally signs). To this, he adds an affidavit that in discussion with DocWagon, he was obliged to expedite his analysis and has reasonable suspicion that prompt action is necessary to acquire the materials. As evidence, he includes his recording of the most recent discussion with a DocWagon representative and notes explicitly the hovering disposal team, along with the tag indicating that the body is currently flagged for autopsy. As a result, expedited processing of the warrant would further investigative options, as specific locations and times of trauma will provide much needed insight and minimize the chances of potential evidentiary decay.

By the time he's done, the application seeks a warrant to compel provision of:
Time of incident;
Location of incident;
Life signs for a two minute window prior to and immediately post incident;
Timeline for response team;
All records pertaining to DocWagon processing of the body;
Billing information for the account associated with the body's (missing) implant;
The implant and any associated records;
Any other DocWagon services provided under this account to other implants;
Includes a request to identify the billing information associated with the account, along with any other associated account.

The last he justifies by noting the evidence of illegal activity -- the filing of the serial numbers -- and the likelihood of other instances of this behavior.

The bad news for Jude is that the cyberware on the body is deactivated. This means that while the whole area is a mess of talkative electronics, the corpse will be of little use to her research until she can get her hands, and power supplies, on it.

The good news is that cloning is a fruitful topic to investigate. In principle, anyone with access to the technology can do cloning. In practice, the costs and procedures are troublesome enough that large, dedicated facilities are needed. Now every hospital worth the name, and even a few larger clinics have clone tanks, and presumably various corporate facilities do, but that's a much smaller list than every street doc with a credit rating and a spare basement.

Binogen turns out to be the favourite whipping boy of a large number of folks with the kind of blood purity and racial precepts which are popular with Humanis. Since the name is a portmanteu of Biotechnology - Nanotechnology - Genetics, it doesn't take a lot to figure out that company which deliberately created a puppy-kitten as a publicity stunt is a hot target for a lot of people who object to playing with nature.

@Jude [Cal]: There is a coroner's office we can use. It's small, so we can't keep things there indefinitely, but it has drawers. If you can get it in a body bag, you can get a gurney from them and transport it. The head coroner is still an appointed official, so it's in the Seattle authority. I'll make sure there's no problem.

Ophelia starts her analysis of Ultin, and the first analytical step she runs into is the question of whether Ultin was excited because of some internal turf war into which she currently has no insight, or whether he has genuine rage issues, or whether he felt somehow threatened by the body not being disposed of. All of the above could still fit the bill with the information at her disposal - more evidence will certainly be needed to shed light on this. But yes, he was not faking his excitement.

Cadwgan, for his part, finds no sign of mystical mischief. If the death was magical, there is no way to see that now which leaps to his vision.

Jim's virtual paperwork wings its electronic way to the legal offices, through which it will doubtless make its way to a judge post-haste. These are the sort of things which can ruin the careers of sloppy paralegals, so his attached evidence generates plenty of red flags to the right eyes. While Jim compiles his red flags, Mark mutters: "You getting to take lunch? I forgot to pack one today."

Rael's data, courtesy of Cal, suggests that Binogen have cordoned off the affected area and are protecting the scene with their security on site, so they presumably have some time before they will expect a team to arrive. For now, a supposed murder is probably a higher priority although dawdling would not make friends. Of course, none of that would prevent Jude from sending a drone or three through the area of either one on a first sweep to get him scene reconstruction basics.

"Quite welcome, of course," Cadwgan tells Jude affably. He packs up his kit to head to the scene of the discovery. Disappointment awaits on the other end, of course, but that's not a tremendous surprise; he has other things he can do, and he takes a moment both to check in with the watcher he'd sent out already (if it's found anything) and to once its time has expired or it's dismissed, to send out a new one.

This one's job is to peek into whatever unwarded spots it can for a six block radius looking for the likely source of the clone - he describes to it in simplified terms an either/or set of conditions which has on the one hand the vats for growing such things and on the other hand the presence of lush semi-vacant dolls replete with cyberware (and the resultant 'dead' spots to spirit vision). It's sent off with similar orders as the last, and he turns to talk to Jude again.

"This is more your province than mine," Cadwgan begins, "but wouldn't the energy demands of a vat-growing system be rather immense? I don't know what kind of 'symptoms' merely keeping the vat-grown results would produce, but as far as production, maybe power records for the area might give some interesting results. Probably some false positives due to other activities as well, but I was thinking it might be worth looking into. Seems the sort of thing which the department might already have a legal right to look at without warrants, too." And it definitely seems time for lunch. He proposes heading to Dixie Rose's for that BBQ, the way the cowboys definitely probably didn't make it.

Jim works to expedite transport to the coroner's space, telling Mike, "You help get the body over there and I'll pick up your lunch tab." Presuming that can all be coordinated, he seems content to get lunch -- although the next crime scene beckons. In fact, "Should we sent someone to at least take a look at the other scene? I bet Cal gets graded on response time, and we should ask questions while memories are relatively fresh."

Rael finishes off his notes saving them for later study. While I will have to get some more information from Jim to reconstruct what the victim originally looked like; I may have enough to start figuring out what she was made to look like

Real he agreed with Jim in that they still had work to do. I would be happy to go to either scene where this humble artist and reconstruction specialist can do his job

Ophelia muses aloud, “Our killer is definitely a hands-on type for whom money is no object. Not only does it take lots of energy to run a clone tank, it takes immense amounts of money to run one that good.” She pauses a moment, then adds, “We're a little short on transportation at the moment. Cadwgan, maybe we'd better just head to West Ruffner Street now and swing by Binogen a little later.”

Jude perks up at the mention of leaving the building. "Jim, Cal's got space for your..." she waves her hand at the body. "..friend." She shoots him the details of where to put the body at the office.

She leads the way out and checks on her existing searches. Once outside, she looks at the sky and takes a large, cleansing breath. The sun is shining; the birds are singing; there is life outside.

Enough of nature; back to virtual reality. Jude pokes at the office's drone supply to see what is available for basic reconnaissance. She logs the appropriate codes and checks all the relevant stats. Which ones have power, which have proper video, audio, security system interfaces and the like.

In a digital memo pad, Jude creates a checklist of requirements for clone labs, including equipment, power use, interested clientele, etc.

Mark regretfully shakes his head at Jim. "Sorry, omae. I'd love to help, but with Snarly mcAngry doing his thing I might as well turn in my resignation. Gonna hafta just give you the loan of the gurney." He does seem genuinely sorry, and his reference to Ultin combines disgust and contempt, but he needs the job. Every working stiff's life.

He holds his peace until out of the building, not really wanting to talk about it too much in front of Doc Wagon's people. Instead, he gets the elevator for whoever's leaving, and waits to speak. Once the doors of the morgue are safely well behind him, he answers Ophelia and indirectly, Jude. "West Ruffner is fine. What evidence have you found linking the killer to the cloning?" Cadwgan asks, looking curious as he takes the electronic 'key' for the car from his pocket. "People with that level of money usually don't need to do that side of the work themselves, after all. I wouldn't rule it out, but it wouldn't have been my first guess. That said, finding the cloning tanks and equipment - and people running the equipment - would be a useful step towards finding our perpetrator."

"That's why I was thinking utility records could be handy. I don't have a clue what resources a cloning operation hooks into, but power, certainly. Track it by the input use and - we can also try an output sniffer, but that'll be difficult until we've narrowed down to some possible areas where they could be. That's what I was talking to Jude about," he adds, moving to get the vehicle doors opened for the others. "Unfortunately, the couple of traces I've put out haven't turned anything up yet - but then, so far I'm not picking up much magic use in this case, which means I'll have to get creative."

While fiddling with his comlink he asks Jim Would you like me to check with the motor pool to if they got a truck available? He checks the motor pull records for an appropriate vehicle for the task. As soon as Rael gets the okay from Jim he forwards the request to motor pool including required forms and the location where the vehicle was to be sent.

Ophelia replies to Cadwgan, “Oh, there's no evidence to prove that our killer did the cloning. What I meant is that our killer just had to do the killing himself, or herself. That kind of money could have hired a dozen assassins to kill the original. Although if I were our killer, I'd prefer to have routine access to that really good cloning tank. It would cut down on blackmail.”

Ophelia follows Cadwgan wherever he goes. He might need help with the car, after all.

"Yeah, something from the motor pool would be great," Jim replies, downcast. "I'll seal it up and stamp it, then wait with the gurney for the wagon. I can meet you guys once that's sorted out." Besides, he can continue his diagnostics and saving off data for analysis while he's waiting. No point wasting time.

As the truck requisition goes out Rael follows Cadwgan and Ophelia to the Car "I just hope that Knight Errant didn't contaminate the crime scene too much"

Rael's request gets a GMC Bulldog from the motor pool. By the city's grid and autopilot, it should be arriving in about ten minutes. Just enough time for Jim to get some additional work done before zipping up the body bag and unlocking the gurney's wheels. While Jim does his work, Mike potters about nearby, but for some reason offers Jim a file to download.

During this time, Jim establishes a few more points. The victim was certainly not strangled, nor stifled by anything placed over the face, such as a pillow. It might have been a plastic bag job, but there are no unambiguous signs of perimortem lethal force, as opposed to the usual bunraku puppet brutality. While this is going on, Jim gets a message from the legal team acknowledging that his request has been forwarded to an actual lawyer, and that proceedings are under way.

Jim accepts (and quarantines) the file without any overt acknowledgement. When the truck arrives, Jim loads the gurney aboard, registers its location, signs it over to the truck's custody, and dispatches it for the storage location. He follows on his bike to make sure it gets properly logged in, which takes him away from the rest of the group for a time. And also affords him some down time to review the data file.

Mark's file turns out to be a very ordinary DocWagon file, pertaining to the record of a certain implant, and the person in whom it was implanted.

The implant is a standard type, commonly used by DocWagon for implanting in clones so as to monitor them in the clone tanks. Clone growth acceleration is hard on the tissues, so the expense of the monitor is justifiable from the point of view of the clone development group. The fact that it happens to also monitor a large number of vital signs and broadcast them to DocWagon's management team pretty much the same as other DocWagon implants and bracelets merely reflects convenience in manufacturing lines.

The person is simply a clone, as one might expect. The donor is marked as Jane Doe, and the interested party is DocWagon, Inc., rather than one of its customers.

Jude checks out a couple of TapirCrafts and starts checking vitals. "If you don't mind, I can drop you all at the scene. I need to run back to the office for some equipment before I can join you."

She begins walking to the vehicle without glancing back at the creepy building. She looks up the address for Binogen to see if she can pop by on the way back from the original crime scene.

Occasionally she checks on her running queries for new leads.

Jude gets her TapirCrafts reserved for her, and they're ready to go. Their biggest regular hazard is getting their bearings clogged by carpet fibres, but they're
pretty well made and used perhaps less than they might be, so she can have her drone team ready for action as soon as she can pick them up. Binogen isn't perfectly on the way back to Ruffner, but a ten minute detour should get her there, assuming no great delays at the Binogen door.

Cadwgan nods cheerfully to the others. "We'll go with you and grab the bbq as takeout on the way, then run to the scene. It's still being held for us, after all, and I need to deliver it before the guy goes off-shift." West Ruffner is the next destination after bbq and heading back to the station, then, and he writes up a summary of details to date along the way, as well as sending a message to Jim. Let me know when it'll be convenient and I'll try communing with the body. Dubious of getting results, but worth a shot; but not when I'd be in your way.

Ophelia follows along behind Cadwgan. When they go to Dixie Rose's, she grabs some lunch for herself. Ophelia leaves her lunch back at base instead of lugging it around.

Once everyone arrives at West Ruffner Street and the car is parked, Ophelia hops out. She smiles warmly at the extremely bored Knight-Errant guarding the house and flashes her ID. “We're CSI; please let us in.”

When everyone gains entry to the scene, Ophelia gets to work on two things. One is generating a 3D record of the place, using the image link (and magnification, when called for) of her cybereyes. She'll eventually give everyone copies of the image files. The other is to try to answer a few questions. Who were you two? What brought you here besides murder? What sort of person would choose this as a meeting place, or a murder locale?

The house on West Ruffner is actually quite a nice place. Old - at least a hundred years - and elegant, in a somewhat faded Cold War urban style, it is spacious and well lit and nonetheless upgraded with many recent conveniences. There are automatically dimming windows, a sultry voice from the house's system which welcomes the arrivals, lush carpets, expensive furniture and projectors which display waterfalls, trees, ocean views and other vistas to please the eye in high quality trid. Sound systems play nature sounds (probably generated from recordings of long-dead creatures) or soft music and scent dispensers keep rooms redolent of mossy rainforests, ocean shores or the like.

Someone died here? It hardly seems that way.

Jim pulls up some minutes later, having managed to put the body under secure lock and virtual key. He manages to fit his motorcycle into a spot not far from Ophelia's car, pays the parking fee, and heads over to the sumptiously appointed house. The briefcase is ever-present at his side, a little monitoring light on the handle cheerfully winking to itself in a pattern that no doubt reflects the dreams of mechanical overlords.

"They're processing that warrant and we should have results soo--" He trails off, looking at the furnishings. His eyebrows rise. For Jim, this is the equivalent of hysterics. "Nice," he belatedly adds.

Jude pokes around the building, eyeing areas she wants to come back and survey again with the proper equipment. After a cursory review, she finds the house computer and starts logging in. First items on the list:
- What personal identifiers have been in the area in the last 24 hours?
- What personal identifiers are typically here?
- Were any of the environmental settings changed in the last 24 hours?
- Has the system been reset recently?
- When was the last system upgrade?
- Where any alarms triggered last night?

"Wealthy," Cadwgan replies, taking a keen interest in his surroundings. "Which in theory should help us find out who it belongs to. In practice, likely means a lot of pressure to keep the lid on the name. But where there's a will..." He indulges himself in a very non-magical examination of a couple of things first, finding something which looks like it will be sturdy enough to bear his weight and dragging it over to a doorway. He climbs onto the chair and stares intently at the doorframe, then repeats this procedure at a window, and in the kitchen, at the refrigerator.

As Rael entered the house he used ears and nose as well as his eyes to take in the crime scene. Rael was concerned that the artificial sounds and smells, while they may have enhanced the ambiance for the living, it may cause problems in analyzing the crime scene

I think I can work past the distractions. I am just going have to trust my equipment, and more importantly, my senses

Rael then activated his sensors and comlink to record everything he could about the scene working to pinpoint the exact crime scene. Rael made sure to record the other parts of the house to make sure no potential clue might be lost. Visual perception roll

Along with sight Rael used his hearing and smell to sense any anomalies that could also serve as clues non visual perception

Rael made sure to save his original data as well as send it to his colleagues. He then started an initial analysis of the data Evidence Analysis

Ophelia exercises her eyeballs and brain, but keeps quiet. She does her best to stay out of the way of her colleagues. She will, however, gladly help out as needed.

Old money here. Very old, lots of money. The owner would seem to be under stress, with all the waterfalls and recorded sounds. Anyone this rich could commute if he or she truly loved nature. Still, the smells are an odd touch. A perfectionist, perhaps? Did our clone lack required details?

Aloud, she simply says, “I've never run across rooms with coordinated smells before.”

The house is indeed nice. Very nice. What is most unusual to the eyes of investigators who are tuned in to lifestyles is that beyond the house's central computing system, there seems to be very limited robotic or computing activity. Sure, there are computing devices in the fridge and the cabinets and the cooking systems and so on, but what is unusual is that there's no small army of bots to scrub and dust and polish and shine. Neither (and this is less remarkable) is there any evidence of pets, beyond one large and gorgeously maintained tank of tropical fish which look wide-eyed at Jim, and bob and shuffle near the surface.

Jude's immediate researches are interesting. Naturally, there are the Knight Errant and DocWagon personnel who have been in and out, and a few evidently related subcontractors. Then there is the apparent homeowner, one Mason Farnor, who has been mostly at home, until he left in the company of Knight Errant representatives. There is also one Eliza Chatworth-Gleason, who arrived minutes after DocWagon. There are also half a dozen other unknowns - recognised by heat and mass and sound signatures, but with no recorded identity nor PAN signature. They left around the time that DocWagon arrived.

Typically there is only Mason Farnor, although there are occasional contractors from various construction or home technology vendors, and occasionally, no more than once a week (Saturdays) Xeria Voynia.

There have been no recent environmental settings changed, although the heat management picked up with all the opening and shutting of doors. There has not been a recent reset, nor has there been any recent alarm. The last home system upgrade was around eighteen months ago.

Cadwgan's surprisingly mundane inspection reveals that this house is as clean and tidy as if an army of obsessive maids constantly sought dust as if they were paid by the grain. It might have been a static exhibition in a home technology show, so clean and perfect it is.

Rael's careful analysis of the place reveals to his artistic eye some strange aspects to the house. There are a number of panels in the walls behind the trid projection displays, and when he reaches down to examine one he finds a concealed latch which opens the polished wood to reveal what appears to be an empty storage space behind it. It was not locked, merely latched by a beautifully crafted device integrated with the wooden frame. Rael also finds a number of unusual fittings recessed into walls and ceilings and even under parts of the flooring - they appear to be cleats and hook eyes. None of them apparently connect to anything, but they appear to be quite heavy duty. They would, at a guess, bear the weight of a man and a wheelchair, or perhaps some sort of heavy equipment which needed suspension. Together a few of them could certainly bear the weight of a clone tank, although precisely why it might be suspended isn't immediately apparent.

Ophelia's speculations as to perfectionism certainly have some support, not only in the way that the house is kept, but by the observation that beyond the projections there are also a number of physical works of art. As a rule they display scenes of beauty so impossible as to be either breath-taking or maudlin depending on the mood of the observer, often with a classical or victorian pseudo-classical bent. Some of them are either incredibly fine productions, or actual literal oil on canvas. In any event their frames include a layer of glass over the artwork, and this glass is so scrupulously clean and unreflective as to be very hard to spot.

Jude shares the names with her compatriots and starts the next round of searches. She queries public and government databases for Mason, Eliza and Xeria. As she starts the endless waiting game on her searches, her mind wanders through the central computer. She tracks heat/mass/sound signatures and PANs through the house as much as possible. If she comes up empty handed, she will methodically track back in time to see if non-PANed folks have a tendency to visit the house.

Jude is also ensures everyone has the general descriptions of the non-tagged persons. @Jim: How old would you say your clone-friend is?

While she plays in the virtual world, Jude's eyes cloud over, staring at the following waterfall. She idly chews on a finger nail and squints when she stumbles across an interesting byte of information.

"She was between six months and two years," Jim tells Jude. "Hard to say for sure, because it was rush-developed. Not a lot of callus, but I don't know much about the environment and attire. Tooth wear might give me a little more, but that'll take some time and also is impacted by diet." He continues looking about the room, rubbing absently at his jaw. "Clone tanks would take up some room."

He starts poking around the house, looking for spots where either the furniture appears recently added, there's a particular profusion of power access points, or there are gaps in the furnishings.

After telling his associates what he discovered Rael double checks the other panels to make sure there are no any other hidden compartment or concealed equipment Just to be sure

peeking into the hidden storage space he scans using ultra and thermal vision to make sure nothing else is hidden. check for hidden compartment again

Speaking to no one in particular Rael says "Is it just me or is this place too damn clean?" He checks the hooks and cleats for any sign of wear let's play 'master and servant'

As he is examining the art work Real looks for any noteworthy work of art The Art world

.

Ophelia replies to Rael, “It's too damn clean. I'm ready to suspect a dirt phobia. Which sort of fits with the hardware, in a way.”

Ophelia purses her lips and thinks aloud. “Six months to two years old. That doesn't sound as if our victim was created just to be killed. On the other hand, Mason Farnor doesn't strike me as forgiving of imperfection – any imperfection.” She sighs. “It's not even clear why she died. I wish we knew who the original is.”

Jude establishes that the PANless people in the house had quite a strong tendency to go to certain places in the house and spend hours there, even at times when they seemed probably not to have been asleep. They were generally the same small subset of places, as well. Doubtless Rael could provide a more detailed reconstruction, but the data afforded Jude isn't as readily open to human spatial interpretation as one might hope.

For his part, Rael discovers that the hooks and cleats show some wear, but the exact cause of the wear is unclear since it is mostly so minor as to constitute polishing. The works of art, such as they are, include some very well executed ones, and a few which are certainly reproductions - a few well-known waterhouses, for instance. All are certainly examples of good taste, well placed and defended from the elements, if a trifle pedestrian. There's no sign of a bold exponent of shocking modern art at work.

Rael smiles "I guess my first assumption about the chains as BDSM accessories may be wrong" he shrugs "But the investigation is still young

Rael proceeds to try to do a analyze the foot traffic legwork on footwork,he hoped to gain insight on the residents as well as the role the house played in their lives.

Ophelia points out, "They might not get much wear as play toys. Remember, the 'victim' wouldn't be struggling at full strength. They have to be here for some reason. It's not as if they add to the decor."

"Either way," Jim opines, still looking about. "It's been cleaned up. If there were any portable items that would help us, they've likely been removed. Great attention to detail. That leaves us with following the money, the people, or some other electronic trail. And we've got another crime scene waiting that we haven't responded to; I think we need to at least send someone over, to show reasonable response times." He shrugs, tacitly volunteering to be 'it'.

Rael establishes fairly quickly that the foot traffic was in fairly predictable patterns. Most activity was around the kitchen and bedrooms and bathrooms, while the apparent living room was the most heavily occupied other room. A lot of the rooms which appear to have been set up as a personal art gallery show little sign of traffic, although not none.