could be seen. At first Anna didn't recognize what she was seeing. Inside was an odd assortment of items, not lingerie. A lock of hair, a signet ring on an odd ring post. Anna dropped the roll and jumped back. The satin slipped into an iridescent pool on the floor.
It was a finger. A finger, in the lingerie roll. In the next pocket over was a dark, shriveled item that looked almost like a leaf. She took a step closer, bent tentatively toward the roll. Curving lines of contours ran in a semicircular shape. Her fist went to her mouth. It was an ear. As if her mind had clicked into a new mode of sight, she quickly recognized the rest of the items: a toe, a dark lock of hair, a nose, an eye from a Nam, a piece of tendon, the shapes repeated, the sizes varying. Several pockets remained empty. Along the bottom row were nestled a series of cutting tools, and in the last, corner pocket, a small insignia, about one inch across. Anna took it for a Psi Corps insignia, but when she leaned closer, she saw that it was similar, but that in its center was a black square.
She'd never seen one like it before, and she was sure that the insignia Donne wore did not have the black She sat on the bed, looking down at the sat ingle, her mind simultaneously racing and blank. This wasn't what she'd expected to find. At last she remembered to check her watch, found that only a few minutes had passed. She still had five minutes before she had to meet Morden.
She stood up, determined to pull some information from this room. This was her job. Study the artifacts left behind, deduce the culture of those who had left them, reconstitute their behavior, recapture their thoughts. The precision of the creased, identical suits in the tiny closet, the mirror-polished shoes below, the socks rolled and