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would support that.”
    “So, in fact, Investigator, this boils down to two sets of opposing evidence. Both equally valid.”
    “Valid but not of equal credibility. That is correct.”
    “Please describe to the court the efforts that you undertook to establish that the person on Ormal was not Dimitros Fiech.”
    “I retraced the route myself, and interviewed everyone he remembered encountering. Security camera images were recovered and analyzed.”
    “What did they show?”
    “A man with similar facial features to Dimitros Fiech traveled to Ormal. We assumed he underwent a cellular reprofiling treatment”
    “But you can’t prove it. The man sitting here in the dock could have been the one on Ormal, and his made-up doppelganger could have fired the missile on Nova Zealand. Am I right?”
    “No. Under my instruction, a Directorate forensic officer analyzed the seat cover on the plane that flew from Essendyne hack to Harwood’s Hill. It had been cleaned, but we found large traces of vomit containing DNA. It did not correspond to Dimitros Fiech’s DNA, yet it was the seat he remembers using and being sick on. It wasn’t him on Ormal.“
    Ms. Toi gave Paula a startled look. “I see. Thank you, Investigator.”
    “No!” Dimitros Fiech yelled. “No, you can’t believe that. I didn’t do it! Damn you, I didn’t!” He turned to the jury and gave them a wild stare. “It wasn’t me. I wasn’t there. I know I wasn’t!”
    Judge Jeroen banged his gavel. “Be seated, Mr. Fiech.”
    “I’m being framed!” He turned to Ms. Toi. “Do something!”
    She winced.
    Paula quietly left the witness stand as Fiech continued his tirade. Two large court officers moved forward into the dock as the judge banged his gavel repeatedly.
    *
    After another day and a half of evidence, the jury retired. They took an hour to reach their verdict of guilty. Judge Jeroen sentenced Dimitros Fiech to two thousand seven hundred and sixty years’ life suspension, twenty years for each of the people who suffered bodyloss in the crash.
    *
    Paula was packing her bag when Aidan Winkal rapped his knuckles on the office door. “Hello,” she said.
    He grinned. “I just came to say good-bye.”
    “That’s very kind of you, Aidan. You’ve handled yourself well while we were putting this case together, and I know this hasn’t been easy. I expect your Chief will be promoting you.”
    “Probably. I gather Christabel got her promotion.”
    “Yes. Chief investigator at last. I’ll miss her. There’ll be a party in Paris tonight when we get back. You’re welcome to join us.”
    He scratched at his short hair. “Go to Paris just for a party. That’s a real city-dweller thing. An Earth city.”
    “Come on, you’re not such a small-town boy. I’d dance with you.”
    “I can’t believe how thorough you were. I really thought the defense was going to nail you with that question about evidence from Ormal. I guess she didn’t realize how methodical you are.”
    Paula shrugged and dropped her spare jacket into the bag. “It’s what I do. I have to be certain for myself. And Ms. Toi should have known, I’m notorious enough for my diligence. He was badly represented.”
    “So you’re convinced he did it?”
    “The Dimitros Fiech sitting in the dock this morning was the physical person who launched the missile. I have no doubt of that.”
    “Now there you go, see: a real lawyer’s answer.”
    “I concede defense did have a point about what constitutes a whole person. Body and memory are the two halves of being human.”
    “But Fiech’s memory of the attack has been wiped. It’s over. We got what we could of him.”
    She smiled reassuringly. “Yes, we did. And he got the sentence he deserved.”
    Christabel and Nelson appeared behind Aidan. Neither looked as jubilant as they should have done. Aidan gave Paula an uncomfortable smile. “I’ll leave you guys to it.”
    “Try and get there tonight,” Paula told him. “I meant it