The Tau Ceti Transmutation (Amazon) by Alex P. Berg Page A

followed Carl’s finger to where the frame met the door. A slight gap peered through to the other side. While in the throes of my passionate reverie, I’d totally missed it.
    Paige wasn’t happy about the slight. Sometimes I wish I had my own sensory inputs.
    I tapped on the Pseudaglas, and a faint clinking rattle sounded from the base.
    “Sounds like the actuators are broken,” said Carl. “I’d wager someone forced the door.”
    I tried to jam my fingers into the crack at the side, but they wouldn’t fit. Carl, with his slimmer hands, managed to dig his fingernails into the crevice and slide the door to the side. It gave with an unpleasant grating rasp.
    “Um, Valerie? Are you here?” I asked as I stepped into the apartment.
    I was willing to guess she wasn’t. The place had been tossed. Cushions from Valerie’s sofas lay discarded haphazardly on her thick, fuzzy rug, exposing the internal ribbing of the chairs. Vases and decorations on her shelves had been pushed to the sides, twisted and turned and upended. The kitchen, however, had seen the worst of it. Pots, pans, and utensils partied on the floor and spilled into the living room like sweaty, drunken revelers on the eve of the Perihelian Festival. A poor dishbot who’d probably been set to work in Valerie’s absence rotated back and forth, overwhelmed by the mess, trying to decipher what needed to be stored and where.
    “Well, this isn’t good,” I said.
    Really? said Paige. That’s your first thought? No wonder you’ve struggled in this business.
    Carl must’ve received the jab, too. “To be fair, we’ve solved every case that’s come our way. Volume’s been the problem.”
    I steamed a little at Paige’s insult, but years of practice dodging her jabs helped me brush it off. “Alright. Here’s an insight for you. Looks like we were right about there being more people involved in this mess than we originally thought. No way the first intruder, the one who went out of his or her way to leave this apartment spotless after breaking and entering, is responsible for this disorderly mess.”
    “You’re most likely correct,” said Carl. “Why don’t I inspect the kitchen while you return to the bedroom? Perhaps the newest intruders left clues the previous ones didn’t.”
    I nodded and headed toward Valerie’s private quarters. I whistled upon spotting her monument to clothing—her expandable closet. Whoever had trespassed this time clearly didn’t hold fashion in the same regard that Val did. The racks had been stripped bare, and her clothes churned over the floor like the waters of a turbulent, parti-colored sea.
    Miss Meeks is not going to be happy, said Paige.
    “No kidding,” I said. “You want to give her another call?”
    I’ll try, she said, and then a moment later, No dice. Still blocked.
    I suffered another pang of worry.
    But the call is going through, Paige said. She’s just refusing to answer it. I’m sure she’s fine.
    I stomped over to the dresser drawer, which I found in a similar state of disarray as the floor. Every pair of socks had been pulled apart and tossed back into the drawer with blatant disregard for Valerie’s preferred color- and fabric-based organizational metrics. I sifted through the loose stockings, not entirely sure what I was looking for but certain I hadn’t found it.
    I heard the patter of Carl’s feet and then his voice drifting over from the entrance to the bedroom. “Find anything unusual?”
    “No more arcade tokens, if that’s what you mean,” I said as Carl joined me at my side. “And I doubt we’ll find any more of those. This seems like your traditional toss and snatch job. Whoever was here was looking for something. No clue on whether or not they found it, though.” I snapped my fingers as I suffered a thought. “Wait…do you think whoever was here was after the token?”
    “It’s a distinct possibility,” said Carl.
    I twisted my lips and grunted.
    “What?” asked