by S. H. Jucha
Devon drew his shock stick and heaved it with all his might at the figure Aurelia had identified. The stick struck the suited figure in the left shoulder. The electric torch was dropped as the figure grasped his shoulder in pain.
Devon raced forward, lowered his head, and drove his weight into the midriff of the suited figure. The two men rolled deeper into the passageway. Devon fought to get purchase on the assailant, but the slick suit hampered his grip. Worse, the figure was no lightweight. One moment Devon was on top, and the next he was launched over the individual’s head with the aid of the attacker’s arms and a well-placed boot.
While Devon wrestled with the suited figure, Liam rushed forward, snatched up the torch, and turned it off. Standing even with the open door, he could smell the flammable liquid that was spread across the floor of an abandoned cantina. He was tempted to close the open door via the actuator, but he feared an explosive trigger might be embedded in the switch.
Devon was on his back, fighting to keep the assailant’s hands off his throat, when a deck shoe crossed his vision and connected with his attacker’s helmet. He felt the hands around his neck loosen. A second kick to the attacker’s head rolled the figure off him.
Aurelia had managed to free Devon, but the suited figure was shaking off her kicks and struggling to stand. By the individual’s size, she judged him to be a man, and she chose to deliver a well-aimed kick to the crotch, which effectively ended the man’s struggles.
Aurelia reached out a hand to help Devon off the deck. “You okay?” she asked, gently touching his bruised neck.
“I think so,” Devon said, coughing briefly.
“Good,” Aurelia replied. “I’m not done figuring you out yet,” she added, running the back of her fingers alongside Devon’s cheek.
Aurelia turned to the assailant, who had regurgitated into his helmet. She efficiently unlocked the helmet, swiveled it, and pulled it over the man’s head. Her nose wrinkled at the putrid smell.
Devon knelt beside Aurelia. “Roby,” he declared in surprise. The man was a known petty criminal. He’d never been involved in something as nefarious as murder.
“Security and emergency services are on their way,” Liam said, closing his comm unit.
“You know this man?” Liam asked Devon. He was about to add that Devon should restrain him, but the only thing the man was capable of doing was moaning and cradling his genitals.
“Something’s wrong here,” Devon said, standing to address Liam. “Roby isn’t a professional at this kind of thing. This is a clumsy attempt on your life.”
“Well-planned or not, he nearly succeeded,” Liam replied. “That old cantina’s floor is awash with flammable liquid. We were about to be caught in an explosion and probably burned to death.”
Sergeants Cecilia Lindstrom and Miguel Rodriguez rushed around the corner. Liam briefed them, and Cecilia called medical services for the suited figure writhing on the deck.
Several moments later, emergency services arrived, and the sergeants restrained Roby and guided him away from the personnel, who investigated the cantina.
Standing in the next passageway with his protectors, Liam said, “I want to thank you for your efforts this evening. However, you’ve put me in an awkward situation with Harbour.” Then he smiled, and added, “Remember, I was the one who objected to her about your companionship.”
“There are more days to go,” Aurelia said.
“You’re much too young to be such a stark realist,” Liam remarked. Immediately, he winced. He mentally kicked himself for failing to recall the horrendous events that had shaped Aurelia’s life.
Aurelia laid a hand on Liam’s forearm, and said, “Apology accepted.”
Liam was dropped at his cabin, and Devon and Aurelia sought a small food stall, bought more than they could eat, and headed to their cabin. After eating and cleaning up, there didn’t seem to be an appetite for small talk. Devon lay in his bunk and was close to falling asleep, when he felt the stacked beds shake.
Aurelia climbed up the short ladder to the upper bunk. Silently, she slipped under Devon’s blanket and snuggled against him, immersing her mind in Devon’s emotions.
When Devon felt Aurelia’s head on his shoulder, he folded his arm around her. From that moment, he was too happy to give any thought to the concerns of tomorrow.
-37-
Roby
“What happened?” Dorelyn railed to her security chief. She was livid and losing control of her temper.
The security chief stood his ground and repeated the limited information he possessed.
Dorelyn stared at the man, desperate to take out her anger on someone. When she could manage to speak without yelling, she ground out, “Find out whoever is behind this. I want them buried outside.”
The security chief acknowledged his orders and hurried from Dorelyn’s presence.
Dorelyn stalked around her office, racking her brain for what family member might have been so incredibly foolish as to attempt to murder Liam Finian. She picked up her comm unit and called Idrian.
“I take it you’ve heard,” said Idrian, when he saw who was calling.
“What do you know?” Dorelyn demanded tersely.
“My source inside security tells me that the man, Roby, is a small-time thief and forger,” Idrian supplied. “He tried to ambush the major by flooding an empty space with fuel and igniting it as the major and his companions passed. The idiot was wearing a fire emergency suit to protect himself.
Dorelyn stopped her pacing and leaned against her desk. None of this made sense to her.
“I was ready to see a family head occupy a piece of Pyre’s surface,” Dorelyn said, working to regain her emotional equilibrium. “This doesn’t sound like the work of a professional.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Idrian agreed. “I think a stationer was behind the attack.”
“Who?” Dorelyn asked.
It sounded like a rhetorical question to Idrian, and he chose to offer his own reasoning. “Strattleford and Fortis have the most to gain, but a supporter might have hired Roby without either candidate’s knowledge.”
“Whoever this was, they hurt us badly,” Dorelyn said. “Finian will receive a lot of sympathy.”
“Perhaps not,” Idrian said. “What if we offered the rumor that Finian orchestrated this himself? I mean, it is a sloppy piece of work. If it was supposed to be a real job, how come it wasn’t a better setup?”
“I like that,” Dorelyn said. “Pass that along to the family heads. Let’s see if we can’t defeat this surge of concern for the poor major before it can start.”
Dorelyn ended the call with Idrian and signaled for Sika. “I have a job for you,” she told her assistant, when Sika closed the door to her office.
* * * *
“Where’s the commandant?” Devon asked. “I’ve not seen him all day.” Aurelia and he were seated in Liam’s office.
“Said he had some personal business,” Liam replied. “What’s Roby’s status?”
“He’ll be in medical services for a while,” Devon replied. “They’re working to reduce the swelling of his genitals, and he’s heavily medicated.”
Both men glanced toward Aurelia, who announced, “You attack us; you get hurt.”
Liam lifted a questioning eyebrow at his lieutenant, and Devon responded with, “Sounds fair to me.”
“Did you get an opportunity to interview Roby?” Liam asked.
“I didn’t, but the sergeants spoke to him, while he was being taken to medical,” Devon replied. “And before you ask, Major, the only thing he said, which he repeated over and over, was that he hated empaths.”
Liam was momentarily embarrassed to have Aurelia hear that, but a glance in her direction revealed the slightest of smiles on her face.
“I meant to ask you: What did you pick up?” Devon requested of Aurelia.
“Some fear, but an enormous amount of excitement,” Aurelia replied.
“Excitement?” Liam rep
eated. “That doesn’t sound like a cool, calm professional.”
“He’s not, Major,” Devon said. “We’ve a history of encounters with Roby for a bunch of small things. A pro would have set a remote and ignited the fuel by watching us on a vid cam, as we approached the space.”
“Let’s face it,” Liam riposted, “a pro wouldn’t have used that approach. It’s too messy and too dangerous. He could have created a fire that grew out of containment and caused an explosive decompression.”
Liam considered the disjointed facts and then ordered, “Devon, inform medical services that I want Roby’s medication reduced, as quickly as possible. We need to find out who paid Roby. If this election wasn’t contentious enough, it’s gotten a whole lot worse.”
“I can tell you that it wasn’t the council or an individual family head,” Devon stated. “This was an amateurish attempt.”
“Maybe and maybe not,” Aurelia interjected. “And maybe it doesn’t matter, except in the pursuit of your jobs. Be prepared for the council’s spin on this event. They will find a way to make you look bad.”
“How?” Liam asked.
“You need to ask someone like Harbour or Jessie to answer that question, Major,” Aurelia replied. “Based on my observations, you’re not suited for the position of commandant … not until you can think like your adversaries … and they will be many.”
“Speaking of adversaries, Major,” Devon said, “your escorts have been increased. Spacers will lead us and follow us every time you leave your cabin or security … the envoy’s orders.”
This time Liam didn’t argue. Last night, his wife had harangued him that the commandant’s position wasn’t worth his life. Unfortunately, he’d never shared with her Emerson’s duplicitous nature, which meant she didn’t know how important it was to replace him.
* * * *
Sika had been at work aboard the JOS for the past thirty-six hours. She’d obtained a medical services uniform and an ID. In the first use of her disguise, Sika had obtained a sample of Roby’s blood. A visit to a source provided her with a solution of blood proteins, and she was required to pay an exorbitant price for the rush request.
On Sika’s next trip to medical services, she busied herself with menial jobs, while she waited for her opportunity. Near midday, the number of staff dwindled, as they sought meals. Sika slipped into Roby’s room. She was surprised that a security officer hadn’t been posted to monitor the assailant.
The vial Sika held contained a thin membrane, which separated two solutions — the blood proteins and a coagulator. She shook the vial harshly, bursting the membrane and combining the solutions. Loading the mixed solution into an injector, Sika pressed it high on Roby’s inner thigh in the area of bruised tissue. It would help disguise the injector’s telltale mark.
Sika exited medical services and sought out the public facilities she’d prepared. In a stall, she removed a bag that had been concealed above an overhead air duct. She stripped off her uniform, ID, wig, and facial alterations. From her pack, she donned a pair of wildly decorated skins. Then she tucked up her hair and pinned it in place with trans-sticks, a downsider fashion statement. Finally, she applied a garish mist mask to her face. It was a style favored by the dome’s well-to-do young. Sika’s transformation complete, she threw her paraphernalia into the recycler chute, strode out of the facilities, and sauntered down the primary corridor to catch the next El drop.
When medical services techs received a warning that Roby was in cardiac arrest, Sika was descending toward the domes. The cultured proteins in Roby’s blood coagulated as designed and blocked critical arteries that fed the brain and the heart. Despite the best efforts of the staff, Roby succumbed to the blockages.
When Liam heard the news, he immediately ordered an autopsy without consulting Emerson. Theo Formass, the medical services director, called Liam, noting that the commandant’s approval wasn’t on the request form. Liam tersely replied that Theo should perform the autopsy anyway.
Knowing Roby’s death was a critical campaign issue and the commandant and the major were at odds with each other, Theo chose to go forward with the investigation without the requisite authorization.
The following morning, Theo marched into security administration, collected Liam, and headed toward Emerson’s office.
Tapping on the doorframe, Theo said, “Commandant Strattleford, I’ve critical news that you should hear immediately.” He noticed Emerson’s frown when the commandant spotted Liam behind him, and he added, “As you both are candidates and officers in security, I feel it appropriate that you be apprised of my news together.”
When the men were seated, Theo said, “I took it upon myself to conduct an autopsy on Roby.” He deliberately did not glance toward Liam and hoped the major wasn’t staring at him. He wasn’t a man who was good at subterfuge. As his wife frequently warned him, “Theo, you’re an open book. Don’t even think about lying.”
“Why the autopsy?” Emerson asked.
“Roby was too young to suffer such a massive stroke,” Theo replied.
“What about his injuries from the struggle with Lieutenant Higgins and the empath?” Emerson suggested. He’d said the word empath, as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.
“His injuries were, no doubt, painful, Commandant, but they weren’t life-threatening,” Theo explained.
“Go on, Director,” Emerson invited.
“During the autopsy, manufactured proteins were discovered in Roby’s bloodstream. They were the cause of the blockage in his arteries,” Theo reported.
“How were the proteins delivered?” Liam asked. He was controlling his frustration. He’d been anxious to interrogate Roby and discover who had paid him.
“We discovered an injector site high in the groin area. It was obvious that someone meant to disguise it,” Theo concluded.
“Do you have a suspect?” Emerson asked.
“I’ve requested surveillance vids be sent to your sergeants,” Theo replied. “We know that there was an unauthorized female, masquerading as staff, but her ID fooled our systems. We’re still attempting to discover how that could have happened.”
“So there’s an attempt on my life and now the perpetrator has been eliminated,” Liam summarized, anger biting into his words.
“Curious,” Emerson said, delivering an accusatory stare at Liam.
“That’s all I have to report. If you’ll excuse me,” Theo said hastily and hurried from the room. He didn’t want to witness an explosive argument between the commandant and the major.
When Liam stood up, Emerson asked, “Don’t you have anything to say?”
Liam paused at the door, and replied, “I’m going to catch a killer and find out who’s behind the attempt on my life. How about you, Commandant? Are you going to do anything worthwhile?”
Liam could hear the commandant shouting, as he made his way to the sergeants’ area.
-38-
Election
Liam marched into the sergeants’ area. His arrival was brusque and heads snapped up.
Sergeant Miguel Rodriguez anticipated Liam’s questions and hurriedly said, “We heard about Roby, Major, and we’ve received the vids from medical services.”
“And we’ve run facial recognition on the staffer. No hits, Major, nothing even close,” Sergeant Cecilia Lindstrom added.
“Disguised?” Liam asked.
“We did track the woman’s movement into a public facility. She went in but never came out,” Miguel said. “I think she changed her disguise again.”
“And what did facial recognition get on those who came out,” Liam asked.
“We’re running that now, Major,” Cecilia replied. “We started with every individual who exited after she entered. We’re at forty minutes.”
“The results so far?” Liam inquired.
“Everyone identified but her,” Miguel said, pointing to his screen.
“A teenager?” Liam asked incredulously.
“Or a
woman meant to appear as a teenager,” Cecilia replied. “Who can tell her age under that pile of makeup she’s wearing. But the thing that you should take from this is that the assassin knew how dome teenagers appear.”
“And walk,” Miguel added. He tapped his comm unit’s interface, and Liam watched the woman or girl, whoever she was, swinging her arms and sashaying down the corridor, as if she owned the place.”
Liam sat down heavily on the edge of Miguel’s desk. The sergeants stared at him expectantly, but Liam was struggling with the facts of the case.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Liam said, scratching the back of his head.
“Understood, Major,” Miguel said sympathetically. “We have a sloppy, amateurish attacker eliminated by a subtle, professional assassin.”
“And the first is a stationer, known for petty criminal conduct, and the second is definitely a downsider,” Cecilia added.
“So what’s the connection between these two?” Liam asked.
“Maybe there isn’t one,” Devon said from the door. He’d been listening to the exchange, having been alerted by the commandant’s yelling. “I heard about Roby’s death, and I talked to Theo on his way out.
“So what’s your theory?” Liam asked.
“First, you should be aware that Roby’s death will be pinned on you,” Devon replied. “You killed him to cover up the attempt on your life, which, by the way, you engineered.”
The sergeants’ mouths were hanging open, and they were staring incredulously at Devon.
“Don’t mind the lieutenant,” Liam said offhand. “Aurelia and he have been doing that since they started accompanying me through the station. The thing that irks me is that they’ve been right an extraordinary number of times.”
“What is your theory, Lieutenant?” Cecilia requested. She was fascinated by this turn in the conversation.
“I think we have different parties involved,” Devon explained. His comment elicited confused expressions, and he expounded, “Two different and unconnected parties behind each of these events. That’s why this doesn’t make sense.”
