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"Well," says Isabella, peering at the disappointing results from the computer analysis of network activity on the planet below. "That's going to be... inconvenient."

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"No plagiarism," Lalita observes. "Well, it had to happen eventually. What's your backup plan?"

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"Nothing concrete. I've thought about it, but don't have a general approach for the situation. Could skip this one. Could disguise myself - they're humanoids, if I land in a desert I can wear one of those headwraps and be unidentifiable - and directly offer the plans to someone and disappear. Could hide them somewhere where they'll be found, with a dead scientist's name on them."

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"Dead scientist seems like the most plausible way to get it done," he says. "Let's find one who was working on something that mostly seems like the right direction."

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Isabella nods and starts translating the new parameters into computer-executable instructions.

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He smiles.

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While this civilization has all the prerequisites for the Cochrane Equation to lead readily to warp drive, it doesn't look like anyone was working on the right mix of math and physics, but eventually there's a list of four who tie for closest.

"I don't think my computer is sharp enough to narrow it down from here. It might be necessary to collect a body of each one's work, learn to read it, and come back later when we've picked one," muses Isabella. "Or I suppose we could choose at random."
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"I'll happily read the alien science," he says, grinning. "But we'll have to pick someone who's as recently dead as possible, or it won't make as much sense for them to have undiscovered works..."

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"Right. This one only died a month ago," she says, pointing at a name. "Let's find out where he used to haunt..."

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It's all very exciting. He is excited.

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Eventually they find a place where he was known to visit. "But," Isabella says, "if it's been not found for the last month - one of us should go down in person and tuck it into a nook someplace. Landing it on a desk won't work. Unless you can do the math precise enough to find a place to tuck it all rolled up where it'll still poke out enough to be spotted soon."

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"We'd need better scanning equipment for that," he says. "All right. You want to go down or shall I?"

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"I think I can pass for a local more easily, if only because I'm female and have an excuse to wear one of those headwraps to disguise the fact that my ears don't touch my shoulders. Of course, if I get caught at all, I hope you will be paying attention to a moment when no one's looking to fetch me up again."

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"Of course."

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Isabella has headwraps; she doesn't wear them much, shipboard, but they can be part of presenting Vulcan if she feels she needs to do that. With a little work she's all wrapped up like a native. "Suppose this will do?"

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"You look very fashionable," he assures her, kissing her nose.

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She laughs and kisses his nose. "All right. Let's see if we can find an image of his actual signature instead of just writing his name in our own handwriting."

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"Deal."

They do find his signature. Lalita forges it.
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"Nicely done."

And Isabella sets up the lifesign scanner for one of the dead scientist's erstwhile haunts and settles in to wait. The headwrap is really very fetching. Possibly she should wear them more.
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What if Lalita snuggles her while they wait? What then?

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Then snuggling will be accomplished. That is what will happen if he does that.

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Excellent. Snuggling should be accomplished as often as possible.

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Snuggling is accomplished! Lovely snuggles.

And then beeping!

She gets up and kisses him. "Wish me luck," she murmurs, and she steps onto the transporter pad, signed plans rolled up in her hand.
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"Good luck!"

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Isabella scopes out the office. She eventually finds a place that looks like some paper on a desk could have fallen there, but where it will be found - even if not right away.

When she did this herself, she had the transporter on a timer. This time she can just say into the communicator she picked up when shopping on Betazed, "Going up."
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And he brings her back, just like that.

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