The most important lesson Babbage had been taught as a detective was that of Occam’s razor. Do not overcomplicate things. When faced with numerous possibilities, the simplest is usually correct. Babbage preferred to reject this unconditionally. Leave such thinking to the other detectives, the by-the-book boys. After all, where was the fun in it?

If he was a believer in simplicity he certainly never would have found himself here. A musician crashes off Grid. The simplest solution? Hookers or drugs. But scratch the surface a little more and what do you find? Clones, memory cards, musical viruses, just to name a few.

Babbage pulled out his notepad and skimmed over things again. It was best to be prepared. Besides, it hadn’t all fallen into place yet. The more things soaked in, the quicker they would make sense.

He was sitting in the captain’s waiting room, doing what it was designed for. The secretary was there again, same girl, same dress, same legs. Babbage ignored her. No point being rude.

She didn’t seem to feel the same way however, and hadn’t taken her eyes off him since he’d appeared. Well, isn’t that always the way? Show some interest and you get nowhere, but start ignoring a girl and you become fascinating. The same rules applied in here as out there, with real girls and answering machines.

He waited for Adlai’s reply but got nothing. Adlai wasn’t here. He always seemed to disappear when it was time to meet the boss. Perhaps it was for the best.

Babbage was alone with his thoughts and the small puddle forming at his feet.

That stopped him.

Why was a small puddle forming at his feet? It wasn’t wet here, this was just a projection of the captain’s office, a construct to allow easy data transfer. He could be up to his neck in water off Grid, none of it should appear here. He tapped his foot in the puddle and splashed water up onto his pants.

“The captain will see you now.”

Babbage ignored her. Where had this water come from? Why had they bothered recreating this virtually?

“Detective Babbage?”

His clothes, his belongings, they stayed with him to ease the experience, to make the process of reporting in seem more natural. There was no need for this.

“Detective Babbage please!”

He looked up and stared at the secretary. She was almost on her feet, pushed up from her desk on thin, quivering arms. As he looked she relaxed back down into the chair.

“The captain will see you now.”

Babbage stood and walked over to the door, not taking his eyes off her. She’d reacted to him. Looked almost human.

He noticed a single hair had escaped her clasp and was drifting down over her eyes. As he stepped past he reached down and brushed it back off her face. Then he stopped. There was sweat beaded on her forehead.

“Babbage!”

This time it was the captain himself, you couldn’t keep him waiting. Babbage swung away and continued into the office.

“Sir?”

“Babbage, take a seat.”

This wasn’t making any sense. Why would a virtual answering machine react like that? What was the point? So like a human.

The captain’s words registered and Babbage stared at him.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“You heard me, sit down. It’s high time we explained some things, and I always find bad news much easier to take sitting down.”