Camouflage

handful of mail waiting. The changeling took it to Coleridge’s office, dumped it in a drawer, and held the desk’s identifier cable up to his eye. The console pinged to life and it started typing.
    It wanted to give Sharon a bachelor’s in business administration, with a minor in oceanography. It only took twenty minutes to map out her course of study, and then another hour to verify which courses had been offered in which year.
    The oceanography minor was easy—she took OCN 320, Aquatic Pollution, as well as “Science of the Sea,” from Professor Coleridge, and got an A. The business major was harder. It had taken some business courses as protectivecoloration in 1992 and 1993, while it was being a California surfer, but things had changed a lot in the past thirty years. Majors had to have calculus and advanced statistics.
    It wouldn’t be smart to try to generate actual class records; nothing on computer. But it could fake a paper copy of her transcript, and sneak it into the proper file at Business Administration, which was also at the Manoa campus. It was unlikely that anyone would ask for her transcript, but if they did, maybe the scam with the birth certificate could work again.
    The changeling gave itself, as Sharon, glowing job references from two dead professors and Coleridge, who of course was off diving but could be reached at [email protected].

- 41 -
apia, samoa, 16 july 2021
    “ S he wasn’t human,” Jack Halliburton said. “No human could have an arm blown off and then outdo a Hollywood stuntman in falling, running, swimming. What was she?”
    Jack and Jan had Russell alone in Jack’s suite at Aggie Grey’s. “You loved her?” Jan said.
    “This is so confusing,” Russell said.
    “You had sex with her,” Jack said.
    “Jesus, Jack.” Russell winced and turned away.
    “No, listen. You’ve had sex with other women; lots of them.”
    Russell looked toward Jan for support and got a blank stare. “I wouldn’t say ‘lots.’ ”
    “So was there anything about her anatomy that seemed strange? Anything about her psychology?”
    “I did love her,” he said to Jan. “I fell for her like dropping off a cliff.”
    “But think! ” Jack persisted. “Anything that wasn’t human?”
    “She was a hell of a lot more human than you, Jack. She was funny and sweet and interested in everything.”
    “That’s scary,” Jan said.
    “I know it is.” Russell sank back into the big soft easy chair. “More scary to me than anybody.”
    Jack levered himself up off the couch and stalked across the room to a table with three crystal liquor decanters. He poured himself a splash of whisky and dropped an ice cube into it. “Do you think she could have been some kind of construct, sent to spy on us?”
    “Yeah, sure,” Russell said. “A robot. That accounts for the metallic sound when you rapped your knuckles on her.”
    “I mean biological.”
    “Of course. You think anybody in the world is capable of ‘constructing’ a superhuman?”
    “She came from somewhere.” The phone rang and Jack snatched it up. He listened for about a minute, giving monosyllabic responses, and then said, “I don’t know what to say. We’ll get back to you. Thanks.” He set the phone softly back on the cradle.
    “Who was that?” Jan said.
    He twirled the ice around in his glass. “Woman named Peterson, Doctor Peterson. Forensic pathologist. Local.” He shook his head. “They sent a flesh sample from the arm over to Pago Pago for analysis, DNA identification.”
    “They identified her?”
    “It’s not a ‘her.’ ” He took a small sip. “It’s not even human—not even animal. It doesn’t have DNA.”
    “Holy Christ,” Russell said.
    Jack sat down. “Russ . . . you were fucking an alien from another planet. That’s probably illegal in Samoa.”

- 42 -
honolulu, hawaii, 18 july 2021
    T he changeling had winced when it saw the headline SPACE ALIEN DISCOVERED IN SAMOA . It bought a paper and learned that it had murdered a “high-level American intelligence operative” by “injecting a mysterious substance.”
    An editorial urged tolerance rather than fear. The alien would come forward if it knew it would not be harmed. The American government could be reasonable.
    That was tempting. The electric chair would be a stimulating experience.
    The story explained that scientists knew it was an alien because a tissue sample had no DNA. Was there any way to fake that?
    The changeling had several