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                      SEX, LIES, AND NECROMANCY

                                  by

                    Daniel Parsons and Brandi Weed

        Life is a series of circumstances beyond your control.
                           Van Roy's Truism

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The little group trooped down to the third floor, and into a small
conference room, furnished with a short table and some padded chairs.
A man was seated at the far end of the table, his eyes closed and a
dreamy expression on his face.

     Everyone wavered on the threshold for a moment.  "Excuse me,
would you be Mr. Samuels?" Angel asked.
     "I am called that," Samuels replied.  His voice carried on in a
soft, smooth tone reminiscent of a lullaby.  "Greetings.  Come in,
sit, find your centers, and relax your minds."

     Everyone entered, and quietly sat, trying not to stare at their
new supervisor, for he was curious to behold for more than his odd
attitude.  His head seemed jarringly lopsided, the entire left side
dented inwards nearly an inch, with most of the ear missing, and the
one eye seeming to rest higher than the other.  His hair, most of
which was a dark glossy red, was stark white and coarse over the left
side.  He wore a high turtleneck sweater, despite the June weather.
If he noticed the sidelong looks, he gave no sign, merely sat as
impassive as an idol, residing over six manilla folders lying in a
neat stack on the table before him.

     Samuels spoke, his voice quietly filling the silence of the small
room. "Before we enter the discussion of the case, I invite you to
share in a relaxation exercise to aid in the communion of our
thoughts.  Your decision to participate will be according to your own
will and your sense of your karmic balance."

     Gracefully, Samuels stood and walked to the rear wall of the
room.  There, he took a blue marker from his pocket, and carefully
drew a small circle, about 20cm across, directly onto the wall.  He
pondered his handiwork, then resumed his seat.

     "Consider the circle, the ancient symbol of unity.  The essential
meaningfulness of all that is contained in the larger circles of this
reality.  All is interconnected.  Now, let your minds empty
themselves, and explore your own inner circles.  Aummmmmm....."

     Samuels closed his eyes, and regained the same expression of
nothingness he had when they had entered.  Ardrin stared, nodded
quietly, and mouthed "O-kay..." at the others.  Angel sat as prim as
ever, but couldn't help but wonder at this peculiar behavior.  Jake
openly gaped, and Janie gnawed on her knuckle in a futile attempt to
stifle a giggle.  After nearly a minute, Samuels opened his eyes.

     "Now, let us begin our discussion."

     "On May 25, 19 days ago the cargo freighter _Caduces_, sailing
out of New York, sank in the Irish Sea, in a freak storm which had
come from the north.  At the time, a garbled radio transmission from
the ship seemed to indicate hostile boarders, but after the ship
vanished from radar, it was assumed to have been a mistake on the part
of the radio operator, who might have panicked."
     "But yesterday, part of the _Caduces_'s cargo, a new Cadillac
Coupe de Ville, was found in northern Scotland, abandoned in a ditch.
Its presence and condition should be considered quite remarkable; it
was not even wet."
     Ardrin whistled. "That's pretty bizarre."
     "Quite," Angel said, slightly annoyed.
     Jake shook his head. "Well... ok, they found a car that should
have been on the bottom of the ocean.  Why are they involving MI5?
Maybe the cargo just got stolen, and they fooled the radar somehow."
     "Because the car was not the only thing in the _Caduces_.  Here
is the cargo manifesto.  Do you see anything interesting?"

     The cargo manifesto listed 5 separate categories: 65 Cadillacs in
various makes and colors, 5 Caterpillar tractors, 2 Caterpillar
earthmovers, 5 tons of Pillsbury chocolate chip banana nut bread mix,
and a Cray-1 supercomputer.

     "Chocolate chip banana nut bread?" Janie grinned.
     Angel frowned at Janie. "I think he means the computer."
     "But what a waste of good chocolate!"
     Jake hmmmed? "Hey, I like chocolate chip banana nut bread."
     Angel rolled her eyes heavenward. "I do think..."
     "But what's the computer for anyway?" asked Janie.
     "The Cray was for the University of Glasgow.  It was to be used
by their physics department, according to official reports."
     Ardrin snorted. "Yeah.  So what was it really for?"
     Samuels didn't even pause. "It was to be used by the National
Defense Network, a branch of NATO.  It's official function is
classified."
     The room went silent.  "NATO?" Jake finally spluttered out.
     "Yes."
     Janie sat up straight, for once. "Did they have any of the
software installed on it?"
     "I'm afraid that is also classified."
     Angel put two and two together. "And they think that this Cray is
out there with NATO information on it, and someone might use it or
sell it to our enemies?"
     "I believe there is some concern regarding that possibility."
     "Uh, Mr. Samuels, sir," Ardrin said very slowly, "if there's such
a big risk to national security in this, why aren't they assigning the
case to some senior investigators?"
     Jake nodded. "Yeah!  I mean, countries like France and Germany
and Russia and the United States could be really affected by this."
     Samuels pondered quietly for a moment. "I had wondered about that
myself."
     "Sir," Angel frowned, "haven't they told you what's on the Cray,
and why it is important or isn't?"
     "I was not made aware of that."

     There was a long pause, before Janie slowly spoke.

     "So... what information *do* we have?"

                            *     *     *

     The _Caduces_ was a medium length cargo vessel, owned by Bristol,
Chambers & Co., Annapolis, Maryland, USA.  Length 43m, breadth 15m, 30
kilotons unladen displacement.  Shipped out of Long Island, New York
on 15 May 1991.  The ship was insured by Lloyds of London.

     The Cadillacs were destined for a foreign car dealership in
Surrey, owned by Mrs. Bathsheba Finkelstein.

     "Bathsheba Finkelstein?"
     Angel glared peevishly at Janie. "Jane..."
     "Call me Janie.  I'll call you Angel, ok?"
     "Must you interrupt Mr. Samuels?"
     "I didn't interrupt, I just thought it was a funny name."
     "Look, can we please hear the rest of this?"  Ardrin turned to
glare at both the women as if they were unruly children, completely
intent on spoiling what was left of his afternoon.
     "Certainly." Angel sat back primly and waited for Mr. Samuels to
continue.

     The tractors and earthmovers were going to a buyer in Glasgow, a
Mr. Everett McGinnis, who owned dealerships throughout Scotland.

     The bread mix was part of an arrangement between Lucy's Markets
and a chain of supermarkets in the United States, as a marketing test
to see if the mix would be accepted by the British palette.

     The Cray was to be shipped to the University of Glasgow, and
placed in the McAlbe building, where its operation would be supervised
by Professor Ernest Samuels.

     Jake asked, "Oh, is he a relative, sir?"
     "Relative to what?"
     "Uh... never mind.  Do we have a crew list?"
     Samuels stared glassily at Jake, until something seemed to
register inside his head. "I am not aware of a familial relationship
between myself and Professor Samuels, though we are all related in
several senses of the word."
     For a long moment, everyone stared at Samuels, before Angel
cleared her throat.  "I believe he was asking if we have a list of the
crew, sir."
     "Uh... yeah."
     Samuels stared at Angel, then turned to look inside another
folder. "Yes, here it is."

     The captain was Thor Hummel, a Norwegian.  He had been in
merchant sailing for 17 years, 5 of them as captain of the _Caduces_.
His was a record speaking of steadiness and attention to duty, though
with two black marks, a damaged cargo and an injured sailor, both of
them related to drunkenness.

     The first mate was John Marten, Welsh.  He had been in the
Merchant Marines for 9 years, and had been under Captain Hummel for
two.  He was reportedly something of a bully, and not well liked.

     The crew consisted of nine seamen and women: Natalie Ash, Orville
Clonkey, Nigel Coleman, Esther Everson, Ted Galey, Lloyd Hunter, Hambo
Mgune, Richard Nesbitt, and Neville Rash.

     Ardrin turned to the group. "All right, we should look up each of
them and do a complete background check."
     "Obviously."  Angel regarded him cooly. "We should also look up
the owners of the _Caduces_ and their insurance company, to see what
records they have on the ship and crew."
     "Maybe we should ask Mrs. Finkelstein and the McGinnis guy if
they know anything, too."
     "Yeah, maybe." Janie thought a moment. "Didn't this all get
started because they found one of the cars in Scotland?"
     "Yes," Mr. Samuels replied. "The car was found a few hundred
meters south of a small town called Mikleway.  The car has been moved
to a garage here in London for the purposes of the investigation."
     Ardrin nodded.  "Someone should check it over.  And look around
in Mikleway.  Hey, how'd they match the car to the _Caduces_ anyway?
The serial numbers on the engine wouldn't be registered yet."
     "The car was obviously brand new, with only 57 miles on its
odometer.  It had no registration, and no licence plates.  The local
police looked it up on the Interpol computer system.  They were very
surprised."
     Janie laughed. "I'll bet.  They found it yesterday?"
     "Yes."
     "Fast work.  We should also check out U. of Glasgow and interview
the other Samuels."

     In short order, each member of the group undertook an assignment,
Ardrin and Jake going to the warehouse where the Cadillac was stored
to search it, and Angel and Janie went to the computers to look up as
much as possible on the paper trail which led to the _Caduces_'s ill-
fated launching.  Samuels went back to his office to meditate.


Daniel Parsons                                             Brandi Weed
                   Questions or comments to bweed@anubis.claremont.edu