She followed him across the room. The door slid open silently, revealing another large expanse of carpet, and a big round bed draped in red silk. She walked over and lightly touched the sheets. Real silk, not fake. While it went with the feel of the apartment, it didn't go with what she knew of Jack. So who was the genuine article? The man who owned this apartment, with its bed big enough to hold a party in and the million-dollar view, or the rough, friendly man who'd been her partner these past five years?
"Right door first time," Gabriel murmured, as he walked across to the com-unit. "You sure you've never been here before?"
His hazel eyes were cold, and cynical. He still wasn't entirely convinced that she and Jack were only friends. On some level, he still thought they were involved — not as lovers, perhaps, but as conspirators. It was a belief she could at least live with since time and evidence would prove her innocence.
She hoped.
She ignored his question, dug into her bag and got out the disks. "Let's hope the computer's not security coded."
He accepted the disks as he sat down on the chair. The com-screen came to life, revealing a dusky skinned, large busted woman with the most amazing green eyes. Sam smiled. At least she was clothed. Most of the digital personalities she'd seen Jack use were of the wild and free variety.
"How may I help you?" a husky voice asked.
"Translate data disks."
"Translation proceeding."
She raised an eyebrow. No security code, not even voice-key security. Why? Was Jack so confident no one knew about this apartment that he just hadn't bothered?
"Translation finished. Do you wish to view results?"
He glanced at her. "Wouldn't have a spare disk in your bag, would you?"
She hesitated, and then dug the wristcom out of her bag. "I have this. Almost as good."
"I'm surprised State didn't request this back when they suspended you."
"They did. This is Jack's."
He gave her a half smile as he attached the wristcom to the com-unit. "Obviously, they weren't watching you closely enough. You should never have been able to get something like this out of the building when suspended."
She shrugged. "But I didn't leave right away. I went down for psych evaluations."
"Same thing. If you ask me, someone in State was giving you time."
She remembered feeling surprised when she'd walked out of the Cap's office to find no escort. Had the Captain given her the only help he could, time alone to sort through Jack's desk and maybe find some clue? If he had, it would suggest he knew more than he was saying. She frowned. She really had to find some way to catch him alone.
"Computer, display results, then download all three translations to wristcom..." Gabriel hesitated, glancing at her.
"1045," she supplied.
"1045," he repeated.
"Proceeding. Disk one currently on screen."
She placed a hand on the back of the chair, and leaned over Gabriel's shoulder. Disk one was little more than a series of names, with monetary amounts next to them.
"There are a few government officials on this list." She reached past him and placed a finger on the screen. "Isn't Dan Wetherton the Minister for Social Services?"
He nodded. "He may also be very dead."
"When did that happen? I didn't hear anything on the news about it — not that I've had much chance to listen to updates recently."
Amusement flitted briefly through his eyes. "That's because, officially, the minister is alive and very well."
She took a moment to absorb this. "Another clone."
"Another clone," he agreed. His breath brushed warmth across her face. "It's interesting to note that Wetherton's donation is a lot larger than some of the others."