Two pages of sixty-one. That was what the requisition slip permitted him to pull today, and Ross had learned not to ask for more than the slip allowed, because a records clerk who asked for more than the slip allowed was a records clerk somebody remembered.
He had requested the manifest under the file number for Panzer 101's parent supply directorate, on the theory that a man tracing ordinary spare-parts logistics for a decommissioned unit was the least interesting kind of request the archive processed all week. It was, so far, a good theory.
He read down the column the way he read everything now — once for the shape of it, once for the words, once for what wasn't there — and on the first pass he nearly missed it entirely, the way a man nearly misses a single wrong note played correctly in the middle of a long, competent piece.
Transit, Geneva. Two hundred and some line items on these two pages alone, nearly all of them stamped DEPOT STORES, ordinary as gravel — and two of them, not adjacent, not grouped, thirteen lines apart, routed instead through a trading house in a country that had spent five years selling to whichever side asked first and answering to nobody afterward. Optical glass. Prism assemblies.
Someone had gone to the trouble of not putting them next to each other.
MERIDIAN TRADING HOUSE, GENEVA — GOODS IN TRANSIT, CLEARANCE 44-C. CONSIGNMENT: PRECISION OPTICAL COMPONENTS (2 CRATES). ORIGIN: DECLARED NEUTRAL MANUFACTURE. DESTINATION: FORWARDING AGENT, STUTTGART. DUTY STATUS: EXEMPT, TRANSIT ONLY. NO FURTHER DECLARATION FILED.
Duty status: exempt, transit only. No further declaration filed. Four words that meant, in the only language a customs office actually spoke, that nobody had ever been required to explain what these crates were for, where they had truly come from, or who had paid for them — and nobody ever would be, because the file that could have compelled that explanation did not exist, had perhaps never existed, or existed somewhere Ross did not yet hold a request slip for.
He filed his notes on Meridian Trading House under a project name three colleagues down the hall were already using for an entirely unrelated inquiry into farm machinery, and went to find out how many more pages of a sixty-one page manifest a man could reasonably ask to see before somebody asked him why.

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