Habre frowned. “All right.”
“The victims don’t seem to have anything in common, so I turned it around. Both Tansi and Monard moved strangely, but kind of similarly. I had the Montague datacore search for people who moved similarly. I thought maybe some kind of cerebral trauma.”
“We performed a full medical analysis and comparison,” Habre said.
“Your records aren’t as complete,” I said.
“I assure you, our medical records are—”
“Medical, yes.” I took a deep breath. “The Windsor Free State. Right at the end of the Blue Tomato War.”
Habre stopped. She closed her mouth. “Yes, that is—something we would not have brought.”
“I don’t blame you. But when you’re out here, you might need anything.” I aimed the Congolese datalink at the wall. “When they ran short on foot soldiers, the Windsor Cz
