"Why?"
"Scientific curiosity."
He gave her a long look.
"You are enjoying this assignment far too much."
She smiled and led him upstairs. Two Brigade technicians were already working at the signal console. One, a broad-shouldered woman named Pel, greeted Kaiven with the weary expression of someone who had not expected her quiet local posting to become interesting.
"Still nothing physical," she said. "No relay damage, no interference source, no power instability."
"Routing?"
"Requests are leaving clean. A percentage comes back rejected, delayed, or duplicated."
Maelis moved closer. "Duplicated?" Pel nodded. "Rarely."
"Show me."
Pel glanced at Kaiven.
"Show her," he said.
A message string appeared. Maelis read the header, then the duplicate.
"Those aren't identical."
Pel frowned. "They are."
"No. The destination timestamps differ by eleven seconds."
"Network correction."
"Maybe. But this one was a shipment confirmation. The exchange would have accepted the first and ignored the second."
Kaiven stepped beside her. Close enough that she became aware of his body in a way that had nothing to do with military authority.
He was tall even for a Uatu male, with the heavy build common among Brigade combat personnel. Pale blue-gray skin showed darker at his throat where his uniform collar opened. His hair was a deep metallic gold rather than the bright yellow seen in some southern families, cut short enough to stay out of his eyes.
She had noticed all of that earlier and had simply chosen not to catalog it. Now her body seemed interested in revisiting the decision without consulting her. Maelis shifted half a step away. If Kaiven noticed, he gave no sign.
"What would the duplicate do?" he asked.
"Usually nothing. But enough anomalies create bad inventory assumptions."
Pel pulled another series. "There are fourteen duplicates in the last two hours." Maelis felt the back of her neck prickle.
"All agricultural?"
"Mostly. Two medical. One school transport."
"Which school?"
Pel checked.
"Wasaytu East."
Maelis's stomach tightened.