The Crisis Masters

by Gerry Hart

"Alone?”

  “Yes. He has been widowed for twenty years. Never re-married. "

  Terrain was confused. “Did Chief Administrator Obee know his former Dahlia bond partner had been murdered before you notified me?”

  “Affirmative. I notified him shortly after the murder. He requested you to be notified after being informed. "

  “Why did the Chief dump his Dahlia onto Negatt, Obee?”

  There was a long pause from O.B.S.E.A.C.C.

  "What?! O.B., my clearance is 995. Only five clearance codes are above that. "

  "Clearance code 1000 is required to declassify information on Chief Administrator Obee's Dahlia replacement, Crisis Master Terrain."

  Clearance code 1000 was for the Chief Administrator’s use only.

  “Can you tell me if the Administrator ever get a replacement? “ Terrain asked.

  There was a long pause from O.B.S.E.A.C.C.

  “Classified, Crisis Master Terrain. "

  Terrain was now irritated

  "O.B., Message the twelve names I gave you. Indicate I want them for questioning for this investigation. Failure to contact me is a violation of law. Also, check your monitor records. Confirm the whereabouts of these twelve between 4072.93115 and 4072.93200. "

  “Confirmed and done. Two are Crisis Masters currently on assignment, Crisis Master Terrain."

  " Pull them off assignment. I want to see them. Terrain out. "

  Travis Obee was hiding something and, somehow, he had gotten to O.B.S.E.A.C.C. The computer was omitting even denying information. Terrain couldn't confront Obee yet. He needed more evidence (he yawned)... and sleep.

  2

  September 4, 4072, 5;00 p.m.

  Friday had turned out to be a waste for Crisis Master Terrain. The two active Crisis Masters on Terrain's suspect list were unable to report to headquarters until late in the day. Terrain spent the better part of the night grilling the two with questions, but was forced to decide they were not associated in any way with a conspiracy connected to a dead Dahlia. The two Crisis Masters confirmed what their records had shown. They had no problems with the murdered Dahlia. They both observed the reason the Dahlia requested a new bond partner in both cases was that the creature was simply bored with his present one.

  Terrain did make an interesting note from the murdered Dahlia’s record. With the exception of the two officers he interviewed and Administrator Obee, the Dahlia had a habit of exposing his partner's misdeeds, resulting in the partner's dismissal. By investigating the dismissed Crisis Master's files, Terrain decided the Dahlia’s charges were not unfounded. The Crisis Masters associated with the murdered Dahlia were dismissed on charges ranging from conduct unbecoming, extensive violent behavior, bribery, and theft.

  The dismissals of the Dahlia’s partners brought up a new set of questions. Was the Dahlia a troublemaker? Like the police of Old Earth, Crisis Masters did not like a narc in their organization. The murdered Dahlia’s record stated he requested each new partner that he exposed. Did the Dahlia go out of his way to make a stir? Was exposing corrupt or ineffectual Crisis Masters a way to exhibit his and his people's superiority or was the reason something Terrain was missing?

  Terrain believed being dismissed and having pensions revoked were enough motives for the remaining ten suspects on his list. This belief made him wonder why O.B.S.E.A.C.C. claimed the men had no motive. These thoughts led to one last question. Why was this Dahlia assigned to Administrator Obee? Who assigned the Dahlia to the Administrator? Why did Obee assign the Dahlia to Negatt? Where was Obee’s replacement Dahlia or was there one?

  Terrain decided to put the questions aside for the moment. He gathered his Dahlia, Doc, with the intention of tracking down and questioning his remaining ten suspects. As Doc the Dahlia steered the hovercraft through the spires of Techno-World, Terrain requested the ten suspects' light frequencies be loaded into the S.C.G.P.S for tracking but received only one.

  Terrain tapped his badge. "O.B.S.E.A.C.C. "

  The computer's voice piped in. "Acknowledged."

  "Why have I received only one of the requested ten light frequencies?"

  "Only Subject Steve Schavelli has been detected. He is located in Sector 4344. "

  Terrain was irritated. "Thank you, but that response does not answer my question."

  "Unable to detect other nine frequencies. "

  "Why?"

  The computer paused. "No viable response."

  Terrain was aghast. "What kind of answer is that? O.B., I ask you again. Why can't you detect the other light frequencies? "

  "I cannot answer your question, Crisis Master Terrain, thus I cannot give you a viable response."

  Terrain was confused and angry. "Okay, then. Are you saying you cannot detect these light frequencies on this planet? “

  "I am saying I cannot detect the other nine frequencies throughout the Last Humanity, Crisis Master."

  Terrain mouthed a silent huh, then asked: " Supposition, O.B. ? "

  There was another pause from the computer. Suddenly, it replied. “They have shielded themselves.”

  "Like hiding underground or in some stealth construction?"

  "Those are two possibilities.”

  "Can you give any more?"

  "Insufficient data.”

  Terrain gave a questioned look. Was O.B. avoiding the question again?

  "Very well. Terrain out. "

  "Are you going to be checking on Subject Steve Schevelli, Crisis Master Terrain?"

  "Undetermined." Terrain tapped his badge to end the transmission.

  See how you like it, O.B. Terrain thought.

  Terrain gestured to Doc to pull the hovercraft over to a depot like structure jutting out of one of the planet's many spires.

  He turned to his Dahlia, Doc. "Steer the hovercraft along an indirect route to Sector 4344."

  "A good hunter knows to stay upwind of an animal's smell?" Doc asked in his metaphorical way.

  "That's right, Doc. I don't think I can let O.B.S.E.A.C.C. know what I'm up to. You've got to provide a distraction. "

  The Dahlia nodded. Terrain watched the Dahlia ascend and merge into traffic, then entered the depot.

  "Transporter Depot?" A female computerized voice called out.

  "Sector 4344. " Terrain responded.

  Transporter Depots were run by the Argonaut Company, a private corporation. The corporation was one of a handful of corporations not run by the government and therefore used separate technology. Obee would have no monitors connected to the transport depots.

  The Transport depot hummed to life, bathing Terrain in a blue light. Terrain was disassembled and sent to his destination, leaving a sprouting then fading white light.

  Sector 4344 was a bar. The bar's theme was to celebrate different decades of music of Old Earth. The walls had plush wallpaper. Sections of tables and chairs were made to resemble different periods of Old Earth. People were dressed befitting different time periods of Old Earth. The bar was commonplace with a generous selection of booze, beer, and ale yet it stood in front of twenty plasma screens. Each screen was devoted to some bygone era of Old Earth.

  Steve Schavelli sat at the bar. Steve had long, sandy blond hair tied in a pony tail. He had shiny blue eyes that seemed to hide sadness in them. He was not quite drunk. However, he had taken a posture where his arms surrounded his pint of ale. To a casual observer it seemed Steve was cuddling his beverage as if the drink substituted for a lost lover.

  Suddenly, everybody's attention was drawn to a white light which coalesced into blue. It held a figure of a man in a trench coat. Steve looked on amused. His wristwatch communicator beeped. Steve activated it by tapping the watch.

  O.B.S.E.A.C.C. voiced piped on. "The man in the trench coat is after you. "

  Steve sat up straight on his stool. In shock, he unconsciously stared at the trench coat man.

  Terrain shrugged off the remaining effects of the transporter and drew an electric transponder pad from his coat. The li
ght frequency was indicated to his right. He looked in that direction and found his quarry staring at him blankly while seated at the bar.

  Terrain charged forward. His charge stirred Steve to awareness. Schavelli burst into flight, barreling over patrons, trying to make his way to the nearest exit. Terrain tackled Schavelli but Schavelli landed a blow to Terrain's face that momentarily stunned the Crisis Master. Schavelli scraped the floor with his feet as he regained his footing. He ran/jumped his way to an exit, dived through the door, and bounded down the stairs into an underground parking lot beneath the bar. Steve made it halfway through the parking lot when a startling explosion occurred next to him.

  Steve stopped in his tracks instantly. Being a former Crisis Master, he knew what had occurred. A Brighton-Fuller gun had just been fired at him. He put his hands on his head and slowly turned. Mender Terrain still stood on the steps with the smoking gun.

  "I thought that would get your attention." Terrain said. He started to descend the steps, leaving the entranceway with the Brighton-Fuller raised in the air.

  He walked up to Schivalli. "We need to talk."

  Suddenly shots rang out. Terrain was caught in crossfire. He fired the Brighton-Fuller to his left then his right. He spotted each assailant firing from behind a car. Terrain identified them both as Phillip Tork. There was no doubt.

  One of the shots hit him. The Crisis Master fell to one knee as the shots splinged and splayed all around him. He saw Schivalli running off. The protective Kevlar in Terrain’s overcoat protected him, but standing still was not going to cut it. Terrain took off after Schivalli. Another shot took him down. The coat protected him again but the impact knocked the wind out of him. He fell flat on his face, unable to move and possessing an almost certainty that he was going to die. He thought of his daughter and the nanny-bot. He chuckled at the realization of the unusual thought.

  Suddenly, a shadow was cast over him. Weapons fire and two explosions rang out on either side of him. Terrain heard the crash of metal and debris. It was Doc firing the laser gun from the hovercraft!

  Mender stood slowly up as Doc landed the hovercraft. He looked around. No Torks. No Schivalli.

  "Doc, any clue to what happened to the Torks? Did they fall under any debris? "Terrain said in a huff.

  Doc answered in his own way: "The groundhog may gain enough courage to leave his hole yet still may slink into the shadows upon witnessing the awesome effect of day. "

  Terrain looked up to the ceiling of the garage with a grimace. He treasured his relationship with his Dahlia but he wished this one time he could get a straight answer.

  "Doc, we really have to find out what's going on here!" Terrain said while leaning over into the hovercraft.

  September 5, 4072, 1:00 p.m.

  Crisis Master Mender Terrain, Detective Division, was a frustrated man.

  Terrain was stymied so he decided to do what he did best - detect. Terrain had been unable to check in with Professor Ibdidgor. There were many questions that needed answers only the professor might provide.

  Terrain knew the professor could be found at three possible places: a brownstone in Sector 3555 which he owned in its entirety, University Tech, Techno-World's only university, and a domed laboratory located on one of Techno-World's never built upon ground expanses.

  Terrain visited the brownstone in Sector 3555 first. After parking his hovercraft, Terrain and his Dahlia made their way to the brownstone's entrance. Terrain identified himself over a speaker as a Crisis Master and produced his badge to confirm his identity. Terrain introduced his Dahlia next. A fairly attractive, middle age woman allowed him in. She had light brown, shoulder length hair, dark, winsome eyes, and an attractive face countered by an average body and plump legs.

  "What's your relation to the professor, Miss....?"

  "Carmichael, Samantha. I'm the professor's maintenance person. I keep an eye on the place when he's here and when he's not. "

  "Does he stay here often?"

  "No. He spends most of his time in the laboratories at the university and the expanse. He comes here to relax and tend to his... needs. "Terrain noticed Carmichael blush. She let that last piece of information slip unintentionally.

  "Could I see his rooms?"

  Carmichael looked hesitant.

  "It's important, Miss Carmichael. The professor is associated with the government and the Crisis Masters. He's high profile and at constant risk. He currently is sought for questioning in a murder investigation. "

  "I wouldn't obstruct your investigation, Crisis Master Terrain.... "

  "Mister, please." Terrain chuckled uncomfortably. "I can't seem to get a handle on the long title."

  Carmichael smiled. "You're not like the others."

  Terrain stiffened. "Others?"

  "Yes. The other Crisis Masters that were here before you. They came to gather some of the professor's notes and data nodules. They informed me to be careful of what I said in further investigations. They seemed almost threatening. "

  "Did they hurt you?"

  "No, but that seemed what they implied."

  "They had no Dahlia partners?”

  "No. Is that uncommon? "

  Terrain spoke aloud then changed the subject. “I really need to see the professor's room.”

  Carmichael relented and escorted Terrain and his Dahlia to Professor Ibdidgor's dwellings. Upon being admitted into the apartment, the Crisis Master and his Dahlia noticed a quaint room with hardwood floors, modest furniture, and Venetian blinds. Upon inspection, the bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom seemed equally quaint.

  "The professor keeps an office on the next floor.” Carmichael indicated and escorted the two investigators to the next floor.

  An entire apartment was dedicated to Ibdidgor's work. A desk and computer stood off to one side while a row of filing cabinets lined a wall on the other. The room had been trashed. Hard files were scattered everywhere. The computer on the desk was flashing gibberish words and symbols. Wallpaper had been ripped open at various places. Awards and pictures were smashed.

  "Were you here when this happened?" Terrain asked incredulously.

  "Yes," Carmichael admitted in shame, "But they kept me downstairs in my apartment. I heard loud noises, but I couldn't do anything. They were Crisis Masters, for Christ Sakes. Before they left, they told me not to even think of checking on the professor’s apartment."

  "I'm sorry." Terrain apologized. "It must have been tough for you."

  Terrain noticed the video phone. The electric cord had been pulled from its plug when the machine was hurled across the room, but, besides a few cracks to the vid screen, it seemed relatively intact. Terrain hooked up the phone and activated it.

  "You have six messages." An electronic female voice instructed.

  Terrain pressed the play button.

  A straight, brown haired man with a distinguished face accentuated by a goatee and silver rimmed glasses appeared onscreen.

  "Doctor Nathan Frent, associate at University Tech. " The female computer voice announced.

  "Play." Terrain commanded.

  The video activated.

  "Professor, I am replying to your request to cover your classes in exchange for substituting mine at a later date." Frent stated. "I am willing but I'm greatly concerned. Several Crisis Masters have confiscated your entire array of suits and your notes relating to your latest experiment. They threatened me with violence if I uttered a word to this to anyone. Professor, what have you gotten yourself into? "

  Terrain looked at his Dahlia. "I guess we know where our next stop is."

  University Tech served all of Techno-World's scholars because all fields eventually tied into technology: arts, engineering, architecture, sports, medicine, science, etc. The university was a small city unto itself, existing on a platform and isolated six miles in diameter from any nearby spires.

  Terrain and his Dahlia gained admittance to Professor Ibdidgor's lab through his Crisis Master authority. The laboratory seemed un
disturbed yet Terrain found the computers to be emitting the same word and symbol gibberish he had found on the professor's brownstone computer. Hard copy files were missing and a suit rack off to the side was empty except for dangling hangers.

  "Excuse me." Terrain recognized Doctor Frent's voice. "May I ask your reason for being in this restricted laboratory?"

  Terrain turned and exhibited his badge. "Crisis Master, Doc."

  Doctor Frent took a step back. "Look! I don't know what you're after this time, but let me inform you that we are being monitored by video cameras that have already secured and identified the images of your previous associates. If you're going to threaten me with violence, think twice. "

  "Please, Doctor, calm down." Terrain gestured. "My name is Mender Terrain. I'm investigating the whereabouts of Professor Ibdidgor. I picked up your message while I was inspecting his brownstone. "

  "He's not there either? Oh my. I'm really worried, Mr. Terrain. I think in his pursuit of knowledge the professor has gotten himself in serious trouble. "

  "I need you to calm down again, Doctor, and tell me about the suits and notes on a recent project of the professor's that were confiscated by these other Crisis Masters. Tell me everything because one small detail might be important in finding the professor. "

  "Yes. Yes, of course." Doctor Frent said while dabbing a handkerchief over his head to pick up the beads of sweat. "Where to begin.... The suits! The suits were lined with wired nodules. They are based on synthetic molecules. The lining and nodules on the suit provide an electrical current that activates the synth-molecules. The suit can alter one's appearance. "

  Terrain became uncomfortable. "Do you know the reason these suits were created? Could the change in appearance also alter a person's light frequency enough to fool a sensor device? ""

  "The professor indicated it was some stealth device. I could only guess as to its applicable uses and abilities. "

  "And the computer notes that were confiscated, Doctor, did you see them?"

  "No, but Professor Ibdidgor did let something slip to me one day about the project. It concerned mind transference. "