As Stitch steps inside, she scans the room quickly. Two chairs, a small server rack, a desk in the corner, a shelf with some tools and parts. Laying on the desk is a pack of cigarettes and a manilla folder. She picks up the pack, sees that it has a few left inside, and slips it into her plate carrier. As she does, the folder slides off the desk and spills papers out onto the floor. One of them is a printed copy of an email between Dr. Mbeki and a senior tram operator. She radios in. “Ash, our doctor was set to speak at a presentation last night. Genetics wing. We should head there next.”