Pursuits Unknown

by Ellen Clary

  The Containers Go Missing

  AMY WAS working on an LAI PR “Who we are” type of article when Catherine walked in. She walked over to Harris, who Amy knew was engrossed in working on his spy pigeon. Seeing her out of the corner of his eye, he looked up and said, “Good morning, Catherine.”

  “Good morning, Harris.” Raising her voice to include Amy, she said, “I have some bad news. Beth tells me the Applied Sciences containers have gone missing.”

  At the same time, Amy said, “What!?” and Harris said, “How!?”

  Looking at both of them, Catherine said, “They don’t know.”

  Simultaneously, Amy and Harris said, “But—” and Catherine put both hands up in that ‘Hang on a minute’ gesture.

  “They were supposed to arrive at the northern terminal. They didn’t, and they haven’t shown up at any earlier terminal, east or west.”

  Amy said, “But that’s crazy; it’s not like the robo-trucks make wrong turns.”

  Harris added, “They don’t make much of any turn save for the occasional bend in the route. And they only get turned 90 degrees at stations. Someone definitely saw them leave.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Catherine. “They passed through one station, and they were being tracked with the trackers that you installed, but that’s the last time they were seen. They have hundreds of containers up there. Beth knows we’ve seen them and is wondering if we have search ideas.”

  Harris looked up at the ceiling, palms raised. “Why on earth would Locate and Investigate know anything about searching?” Then he snapped back grinning, his hair in his face.

  Amy asked, “Is it possible to sneak one onto a delivery truck? Can they offload it fast?”

  Harris said, “It’s a lot faster than it used to be, but there’s no sneaking around with anything that large. Plus, they would notice an empty robo-truck without documentation.”

  Looking at a diagram on her handheld, Catherine said, “Beth tells me that at the way station after it was seen, some of the robo-trucks go west or east to other secondary stations.”

  Harris said, “That’s right. Coolingham to the west and Novaton in the east, with most continuing on to Northstation.”

  Catherine said, “Once they reach there, they get offloaded onto road trucks to take them to their destination.”

  Amy said, “Or to a ship if they go to Coolingham.”

  Catherine went on, “But there’s no information to point to them being sent overseas, and there are a lot of land destinations via Coolingham, too.”

  “So they’re looking for an ant in an ant hill?” Amy asked.

  Harris said, “Well, right now it’s likely an ant in an ant trail, which would be slightly, but only slightly, easier.” He ran his hand through his hair, which only served to mess it up further. “I can’t believe both GPS trackers went offline.”

  Catherine asked, “Other thoughts?”

  Amy, looking pointedly at Harris, said, “Mulgoo.”

  Catherine looked at her quizzically. “The fish?”

  Amy kept staring at Harris with her eyebrows raised expectantly. Harris finally said, “I painted a Mulgoo solution onto the ends of the containers.”

  Catherine smiled broadly, genuinely amused. “Really?”

  “Well, it just seemed like it might come in … handy,” Harris said, almost embarrassed.

  Catherine asked, “And that’s something that a dog can smell from a distance?”

  “Would you like a demonstration?”

  “No, thank you, I believe you,” Catherine said quickly, familiar with the fish’s olfactory reputation. “So Agent Harris Consuelo’a, because of the time pressure on this, I think you have just earned yourself a trip north to assist Detective Beth Hanscom.”

  “It would be easier if I had a coworker with me,” Harris said, smiling and looking back over at Amy. “Perhaps Agent Amy Callahan?”

  Amy shook her head. “You got yourself into this.”

  Harris looked at Catherine. “Please.”

  “I think he’s right, he could really use your help, and perhaps the others too when they get free,” Catherine said.

  Amy ducked her head in acquiescence. “Lars will be thrilled to look for fish smell.”

  CHAPTER 30:

  Amy Calls John

  AMY CALLED John. “Hi, Honey, Lars and I have to be out of town for a couple of days.”

  “Working?”

  “Yes, it shouldn’t be too long.”

  “Getting kidnapped again?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

  Rolling her eyes skyward, Amy said, “Been there, done that, didn’t really like it.”

  “Who’s running from the law this time?”

  “It’s sort of a continuation, but a different aspect of it.”

  “Like how different?”

  “It’s different. Randall owned one of the cars we were investigating, but there are more.”

  “But is there a Bob, or a Frank?”

  “John, please.”

  “I’m serious. I’m getting sick of being left out of the loop, and then the hospital calls.”

  “That doesn’t happen that often.”

  “Once is more than enough.”

  “I think you’ve said that before.”

  “Why you?”

  “It’s my job, John.” Punching at the side window, she said, “Because I might be able to make a difference, dammit.” She realized that might have come out a little strong, as he wasn’t saying anything in return.

  After a beat, he said, “You really believe in this—this making a difference?”

  Softening her voice, she said, “Yes, I do, John. I really do.”

  “Well, okay. I know you don’t need my approval, but just so you know, it’s okay with me.”

  “Thanks, John. I really do appreciate it.”

  “Just don’t come back dead, okay?”

  “I’ll work on that, John. I love you.”

  “Me too, Amy.”

  “Happy surfing. Go catch a wave for me.”

  “Will do.”

  “Bye-bye,” she said, and cut the link.

  Looking up at Lars, who was snoozing in his crate, she said, “Could you talk sense to him? Oh that’s right, this doesn’t make any sense.”

  CHAPTER 31:

  Traveling to the Container Search

  HARRIS AND Amy were immediately sent up north to assist in the search for the two containers. Catherine instructed them to be super nice to the Northstation people, as they were not used to using dogs beyond drug sniffing and arrest assists.

  Amy marveled at the landscape speeding by. Their vehicle had been slaved to an authorized high-speed police escort vehicle, which was able to broadcast to the other vehicles on the compu-highway to move over for it. They were able to drive 50 percent faster this way. She could see objects like trees in the distance, but as they passed them, they rocketed by and her nearly-hypnotized eyes wanted to follow them, her head snapping sharply to the side vainly trying to keep them in sight.

  Amy noticed that Lars was looking out from his crate, also watching. The cars moving over about a mile ahead of them resembled a reverse ocean wave.

  Pulling herself out of her reverie, she turned to Harris. “Do you think it’s a good idea that we’re bypassing Coolingham and Novaton?”

  Harris appeared to be contemplating his fingernails while he thought. “Well, it’s an odds call. Northstation is double the size of either of the other two, so the numbers are better that our containers are there, but I must admit to being a little uneasy about it.”

  “How large is Northstation?”

  “Right now, there are about 250 containers there and around 100 at Novaton and 150 at Coolingham.”

  “I hope they’re not going on a ship.”

  “If they do, we’re hosed anyway, as they’re not going to want us racing around a ship while it’s being loaded.”

  Amy smiled, thinking. “Oh, and doggy, could you sniff this container
that’s at the top of a stack of six?”

  “That might be a bit high even for Boomer,” Harris said.

  “So, Northstation it is. The dogs are going to have a blast looking for fish smell. I guess we should reward them with real fish.”

  Harris made a face, implying that fish really wasn’t his favorite food despite being willing to paint it onto containers. “Well, I’m not putting it into my pocket.”

  Amy got a tablet out and flipped through a few photos they had taken back before the containers left. She moved to the back seat, positioning herself in front of Lars. “Since you’re awake, I need to show you something.”

  Lars gave her his best quizzical expression and inhaled, trying to smell the tablet.

  Amy sighed. Dogs really didn’t get pictures that well. She showed him a photo of the back of the container that had the label.

  Holding up the tablet to Lars, and pointing to the characters, she said, “We haven’t gotten to this in your training, but these here are called letters. During this search, all you need to be sniffing is the side with letters. No letters means to go to the other end.” She showed him a photo of the other side of the container. “That fish smell you like so much is on the same side as the letters on two of the hundreds of containers.” She realized there was no way he was going to get that.

  Lars said, /Let-ers/

  “Yes, letters.”

  Harris said, “You’re teaching him to read right now?”

  “No smartass, just to look for letters or no letters.”

  /Let-ers,/ Lars said, looking at the screen, still trying to breathe it all in. Amy tried to hold the tablet to minimize the amount of dog snot that got on it.

  Amy noticed that Boomer was looking intently at the screen.

  Harris started to laugh and said, “No, Boomer, it’s not a word, it’s just letters.”

  Amused and a little incredulous, Amy said, “You’ve been teaching him to read? What did he say to you?”

  “Just a little. He was trying to figure out what the word in front of the numbers was. He’s bright, but still only about like a three- or four-year-old human. He struggles with this weird thing called the written word, which isn’t dog pee—that universal communication device used by dogs throughout the world.”

  Amy smiled and looked back. “Harris, if he spends a lot of time trying to sound out the Carrier’s name ‘MMTU’ then we are screwed, timewise.”

  Harris gave her a mock-withering look. “I’ll encourage him to just sniff below the letters.”

  CHAPTER 32:

  The Container Search

  THEY CAME over the rise and found themselves looking down at the robo-truck loading/unloading yard. It was ensconced in a valley surrounded by grassy hills dotted by the occasional tree.

  Everything in Amy’s mind quieted as she took in the sheer size of the yard. It had the look of a cutaway of an ant hill, where all you could see was just mass activity but each part of the system knew its job.

  The robo-truck road forked into six separate, widely spaced roads, each threading under a series of what Amy later learned were container cranes. Each crane would unload the truck underneath it and move the container to the side of the road in a neat row about five or six containers wide. Some were stacked up to four containers high, but many were just a single height. Just past the row of containers was a looping road that came in from the other direction. This was for the conventional, human-driven road trucks and the same crane could also load a road truck. For each robo-truck road there was an equal and opposite road-truck road. It resembled interlacing fingers. Amy realized she was looking at hundreds of containers. And the noise of the containers being set down on other containers, or just whacking into each other, was a little daunting.

  When they pulled up to the gate, Detective Beth Hanscom, coffee in hand, walked out to meet them.

  Raising her voice over the noise of the yard, she said, “Welcome, and I’m glad you’re here. I have people walking around checking the numbers manually in case there’s a typo.”

  Getting out, Harris said, “Typos aren’t very likely with that check digit at the end of the number. It’s computed based on the number by—”

  Amy, who had just walked around the front of the car, shot him a warning glance.

  “Um, doing a complicated computation on the base number. They invented this to catch typos.”

  Crossing her arms and leaning against the car, Beth asked, “So again, what did you paint on the containers?”

  “A solution of Mulgoo fish.”

  Placing her fingertips on her forehead, she said, “Oh gawd, I’m sure my people will be able to smell that all by themselves.”

  “They very well could,” Amy said.

  “Though I don’t think they want to go around sniffing containers.”

  “And let the dogs have all the fun?” Harris said.

  Beth said, with raised eyebrows, “Yes, I’m sure they’d be happy to let the dogs have their amusement. Okay. Some basics. This is an active loading area. There are vehicles all over the place racing to and fro. They are not used to looking for dogs though I’ve told them you’ll be here. Wear your vests, all of you,” Beth said, referring to the bright green LAI vests that both people and dogs wore.

  Trying not to sound panicked, Amy said, “Beth, there are a lot of containers here.”

  “Yes, but the ones that just came in are on this track,” she said, pointing over to a track further over to the left. “We’ve asked if they can slow down the work on this track and they said yes, but only for two hours or so.”

  Looking at that track, Amy could see some of the containers were stacked two, three, and four high. She asked, “What do we do about the stacked ones?”

  Beth said, “Well, it turns out the stacked ones are going to the same destination, so you can get away with just smelling the lowest one. If you want to check a stacked one, we can get an elevator operator, but you probably won’t need to.”

  Harris had slid open the side door of their vehicle and let both dogs out. He tossed Amy a vest for Lars and put one on Boomer. Amy got out three com links and handed one to Harris and one to Beth. “How about Lars and I go halfway down, and you and Boomer start here.”

  They walked down to the start of the track that Beth had pointed out. The noise dropped off considerably and Amy felt herself relax a little.

  “How will I know when I’m done?” Harris asked.

  “I’ll just put one of our larger marker cones beside the corner of the one we start on,” Amy said, holding up a green LAI cone that she had brought from the car.

  “Works for me.” Looking back at Beth he said, “Anything else, boss?”

  Beth smiled, since she wasn’t precisely their boss, and said, “What is it you say? Good hunting? I’ll be listening if you need me.” Looking at Amy, she added, “Oh, and let me get a chauffeur for you.”

  Amy looked puzzled as she grabbed a shoulder bag that had her handheld, her sniff-o-meter, and some water and munchies for both her and Lars. Beth said into a radio, “Can I get a cart over for one of our agents to travel down line two?”

  “Copy, transport on its way to you,” a voice said.

  Amy huddled with Harris. “Okay, so we’re just going to be sniffing the lowest of each container in each row.” Harris nodded agreement. “Oh, this should be fun,” she said with not much conviction.

  Harris said, “Cheer up, you could be being held at gunpoint in the mountains.”

  Amy, looking away deliberately, said, “Not funny yet.”

  “Okay, sorry, go find a smelly container,” Harris said.

  “My limo is here,” Amy said, walking over to the golf cart that pulled up.

  The driver said, “Hi, my name is Jim, and I will be your tour driver today.”

  Getting in while Lars hopped into the back, Amy replied, “Hi Jim, I’m Amy, and this is Lars. We signed up for the Whales Tour and we seem to have made a wrong turn.”

  “We hav
e lots of whales here.”

  “Why, thank you Jim, I think we would like to go halfway down the whale line.”

  “Right away, ma’am,” he said as the cart began to roll down the lines of containers with the container cranes hovering above. Amy enjoyed some unabashed rubbernecking and Lars seemed fascinated, but wasn’t saying anything to her.

  The cart coasted to a stop and Amy got out. She reached in and pulled out her backpack and the LAI cone she’d toted along.

  “Thank you very much for a wonderful tour, Jim.”

  “Why, the honor is mine. Will you require a ride back?”

  “Well, eventually we will wind up at the end and a ride back would be appreciated.”

  “Just have your people call my people and we’ll be right there.”

  “Righto, Jim,” Amy said, half-waving, half-saluting.

  He waved bye and headed off, clearly having something else to do.

  Amy placed the cone next to the container she was standing beside, right on the edge so that Harris would see it and know that his part was complete.

  Pulling out her sniff-o-meter (How could Harris remember “olfactory reflectometer” anyway? she wondered), Amy gave Lars the fish scent. His desire to create an endless snort reminded her of some videos of people who were addicted to snorting a particular drug. She knew that if he could roll in it he would.

  “Okay, we’re sniffing the ends of the containers with letters,” she said, pointing up at the codes.

  /Let-ers,/ he said.

  “And I want you to sniff in this area,” she said. Her hand swept along a strip about a foot off the ground and a handspan wide. “I’ll be right here with you until you get familiar with it, then I’ll just stand at the end of the row since you’re faster than me. Try this one.”

  The kelpie’s head traveled along the container for about a foot and broke off.

  “I want you to do the whole thing.” She walked over to the first end of the container closest to them. “Starting here and going all the way across.”

  Lars gave her an ‘Oh, please’ look, probably because he could smell the fish smell from ten feet away if it was there. However, never one to turn down sniffing, he immediately started sniffing the whole width.