Nan was proud of their murine navigational instincts. Sara Jean's old apartment building was just a few blocks away. After checking a maps app, they wrote down "Plessy Apartments" and directions to 2501 Washington Rd. They slid the note between them and Sara. "Before we head over, let's take a look at those other documents," they said. "Are there any you're uncomfortable looking at?" they asked, unsure if the papers held any triggers that Sara didn't want to deal with.

"I don't know. Can you read or describe them before you show them to me?" Sara requested, feeling brave.

Nan nodded. "Of course. I'll go slowly." They discreetly took the document beneath the old ID. "This is a photo of a white cat. It's fluffy and has a collar. The tag is visible but I can't make out the words or numbers."

"A cat? I'd like to see it." A pompous ball of long wispy hair had glanced at the camera with blue gray eyes. "It looks so fancy," Sara smiled. "Was this my cat?"

"I know as much as you do," Nan tittered and shrugged. "You're right. It does look fancy. It's got a flat face, and there's no way it's not getting brushed daily. An indoor pet for sure."

Sara zoomed on the tag and carefully increased the contrast of the symbols with her internal computing systems. Through the circular spots of ink, she could make out some impressions. Grabbing a pen and the paper, she copied: 756-3190. A phone number, of course! The reflection of two people in the eyes and tag were too dark and distorted to make out, but she made note of their presence in the room. After Nan motioned for the paper, Sara slid it to them. "The breed might be important," Nan muttered as they scribbled down a description of the cat and the room. There was a door and a sofa in the background. The floor was covered in a bland, blue carpet with specks of bright color thrown in for mild interest. "I wonder if the carpet will match the apartment building," Nan mumbled.

"I guess we'll find out if we visit it," Sara replied just as quietly.

"You mean when we visit it!" Nan grinned. "I think that we've written down everything we can about this photo. Ready for the next item?"

After a bit of thought, Sara uttered, "Sure." Nan repressed the urge to ask her to give a more pleasant reply.

"Alright. It looks like an envelope. There's something inside." Feeling around with their fingers, they detected the general shape of the object. "It feels like a key."

"Let's have a look," Sara permitted Nan to show her. Nan opened the envelope. They took out the metal key, and a small paper note. "The ink is faded," they said, trying to decipher the scribbles on the small square of line paper. "But the key seems familiar. I can't say what kind, but I feel like I've seen one before." Sara gestured for the note.

"A 6 digit code, my name, something with my name in it, and... password?" Sara turned the paper around. "TCB 2122, 325. This has got to be for something called TCB. The something bank. The City Bank? An account made in 2122? It would line up with my name change."

After transcribing the details, Nan slowly scribbled a spiral into the paper. "It'll come to me later, I'm sure of it. The key has a number on it, too: 325." Sara watched intently as the little mouse spun the wheel in their mind. "I need breakfast," they sighed. "Are you jacked in? Maybe you can use item search."

"I'm not. I'm 100% offline as far as I know," Sara smiled, taking some pride in it. But she wasn't certain.

"Alright, I'll just make Jeeves do it for me. Jeeves!" Nan shouted, drawing a loud sigh from Odie down the hall. "Jeeves, come here and look at this key. Identify its origin for me," they called. "I'll be back in a second, Sara."

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Almost silently, Jeeves crawled into the room on tennis ball feet and found a clear space to settle. It was a walking desk. Sara was unsettled by its appearance and motions, but it was Nan's beloved assistant. She grabbed the key, note, and envelope and set them on Jeeves' glass tabletop. After sensing that the area around the table was clear of fingers and stray hairs, it flashed the keys and paper from above and below, then rotated its scanners to generate a 3D image.

"Would you like me to scan the other objects on the glass?" it inquired.

"Yes," Sara whispered. It remained motionless and waited for a response. She spoke louder. "I said, yes."

Nan stepped back into the room with a cream cheese bagel. "Oh, go ahead Jeeves. Sorry, Sara, he only listens to me." The scanners blinked again.

"Okay!" Jeeves alerted, making Sara cringe. "I've identified the key as: safety deposit box key. I've identified the other items as: line paper, coin envelope. I've interpreted some writing too. Would you like me to relay it to you?"

"Yes, Jeeves, tell me everything AND give analysis," Nan said between bites.

"Okay! The text on the key, keychain, and coin envelope is 325. This refers to the box that can be unlocked, likely at a bank. The text on the paper is—"

"Skip to the analysis," Nan ordered Jeeves.

"Okay! TCB is probably short for the name of the bank. Allow location to search for nearby banks?"

"Not yet, hold that thought for later! Keep analyzing," Nan urged. "I hate robots sometimes," they whispered to Sara. "Especially their managerial systems and user interfaces."

"Okay! The number 2122 could refer to an address, pin, password, or year, among other 4 digit codes. Would you like me to list other possibilities?"

Sara was amused by how short Nan was getting with the robot. "No, that's fine! Is there any other text?" She watched as their tail raised and twitched with each irritation. How is it controlled by Nan's emotions? They smiled at Sara upon noticing her gaze.

Jeeves kept its hopeful, inoffensive tone. "Yes, there is more text. The text on the other side of the paper reads: 760918, Sara J. Whittaker, 21AngelSaraPrimrose22, ... And what looks like a password. Would you like me to read it aloud?"

"No, but print me a label for it. And print a list of all banks nearby, listed in order from most to least relevant. Us humans have got the rest handled for now." Nan collected the items from Jeeves and returned them to the desk. "I think we should try this at a nearby bank or ask someone there if they can ID it for us. And try to log in at a physical site."

"Right," Sara nodded. She tried to imagine the process. First walking into the bank in person so she could retrieve whatever items were in the box, then asking if the details of her account matched the key... Wait, I should ask about the key first? she thought. Go to the bank, ask about key, then... if key is from bank, try to verify identity with pin? Or my old ID? "Nan, how are they going to know it's me who opened the account, and understand that I'm not a hacker or fraudster? I look very different from eighteen years ago."

"I'm sure there's some other method," Nan reassured her. "There's other biological information like a fingerprint or maybe a cheek swab or something... There's gotta be some sort of record. Don't worry about it right now. We'll find a workaround."

"I don't have fingerprints," Sara despaired anyway. "The only thing that might be human about me is my stomach."

Nan sighed. "That's not true, you're mostly human parts. Let's worry about that later, and take a look at the other docs you have." A glance at the next documents had them realize why Sara might not have fingerprints. "Oh dear, the medical documents." They skimmed through the compiled imaging, labs, and reports cautiously. "I think this is way out of my league to interpret. It's a mix of cybernetics, blood tests, surgery, things I can't even understand. It really shouldn't be formatted this way either." They twisted their face in confusion. "I can't quite place it, but this format is familiar. It's some kind of paper to be read by students, or what have you. Not doctors performing on a patient."

Sara was hesitant to look at the Owlet Files again. "Let's save that for later. I want to go to the apartment first."

Nan smiled reassuringly and put on a pair of walking shoes from Jeeves' drawer.