Read Online Seeker by Jack McDevitt - Free Book Online Page A

stolen. “How about,” Alex said, “if I tell you what I’m looking for, and you tell me if it was among the stuff this guy took?”
    So Alex described the cup with its English inscription, and Fenn looked at the record and said no. “It’s not listed.”
    “Is anything like that on the list? Any kind of drinking vessel?”
    Fenn explained that Hap Plotzky only took jewelry. And ID cards if he found any. And maybe electronic devices that were lying around loose. But pots and dishes and collectors’ items? “No. Not ever.”
    Our next step was to talk with Plotzky himself.
     
     
    We put together a mass-distribution ad. Jacob gave us an attractive female avatar, dark-skinned, dark-eyed, lithe, long-legged, with spectacular bumpers, and we had her sit in a virtual office surrounded by virtual antique dishware. We used my voice, which Alex told me was sexy, then smiled to let me know he was kidding. And we wrote a script.
    “Hello, Cleve,”
the avatar would say,
“do you have some old pottery or other similar items that have been around a long time and are just gathering dust? Turn them into instant cash with us. . . .”
    We used “Cleve” instead of “Hap” because we wanted to be sure he concluded this was a mass mailing and not a message directed specifically at him. We figured this guy wasn’t very bright.
    “Will it get past the AI?” I wondered.
    “Sure,” said Alex. “Plotzky will have a basic, no-frills model.”
    So we sent it off.
    We got no response, and after a couple of days we went to Plan B. If Hap had given the cup to Amy, he had no idea of its value. That made it likely any similar object he owned wouldn’t be locked away. It would be on a shelf somewhere. All we really had to do was gain entry.
    Jacob connected me with Hap’s AI. I introduced myself as a researcher with the Caldwell Scientific Sampling Survey and asked to speak with Mr. Plotzky. The AI gave me an avatar to look at, a large, hostile, ill-kempt female. The sort of woman you might find enjoying a good fight. That image told me everything I needed to know about Hap. In fact, you can tell quite a lot about people from the images their houses show you. Anyone who calls Alex, for example, first sees a well-dressed, polished, impeccably polite individual. It might be a male or female figure. That’s left to Jacob’s discretion. But there’s no question it holds a master’s degree from New London.
    “Why?”
she asked, making no effort to mask her owner’s hostility.
“What do you want?”
    “I’d like very much to ask Mr. Plotzky some survey questions. I’ll only take a few minutes of his time.”
    “Sorry,”
she said.
“He’s busy.”
    “I could call back later.”
    “You could, but it wouldn’t matter.”
    Alex was sitting back out of range of the image pickup so he couldn’t be seen. But he was nodding vigorously, egging me on. Don’t lose your patience. “There’s money in it for him,” I said.
    “Oh? How much?”
    “Enough. Please tell him I’m here.”
    She ran the idea through her software. Then the picture froze. She had her arms folded and was staring directly at me. That sort of thing tends to hold your attention. A minute later she blinked off and I was looking at Hap himself. “
Yeah
?” he said. “
What’s the problem
?” He looked as if he’d been asleep. We knew he was thirty-two, but he had the battered, caved-in features of someone much older.
    “I’m conducting a survey for the entertainment industry. We want to make a determination about what people are watching. It would only take a few minutes.”
    “Lulu tells me you said something about money.”
    “Yes,” I said. “There’s a modest stipend.”
    “How much?”
    I told him.
    “Okay,”
he said.
“What do you want to know?”
    “Well, I’d need to come by the house, Mr. Plotzky. We need to complete a document on your equipment as well.”
    “I can tell you what I have, lady. Save you the trip.”
    “Sorry. We