by John Appel
“Fuss is the least of it,” she snapped. “I didn’t have time to really look at all the bodies. The ninth was behind the card table, all I saw was the legs.”
“Who was it?” Shariff asked, frustration clear in her tone.
“The Commonwealth Consul on the station.” Fathya stopped, mouth agape, as Noo went on. “This killing wasn’t just political. It’s an interstellar incident.”
CHAPTER TWO
Ileri
“We call this new world Ileri, or Promise, in the tongue of one of the many peoples represented here in this place of our Exile. A promise to ourselves, and to our descendants, to avoid the mistakes of the past. A promise that all here and our children to come will be seen as equal in worth. A promise to build a new home in which every person is cared for. By necessity, nearly every one of us left someone behind on Lost Earth, whether to the Unity Plague, or to the incidental horrors it spawned.
From this day forward, let us leave none behind.”
— Peter Akindele, first Prime Minister of Ileri, on the first anniversary of Settlement
Toiwa
Government House, Ileri Station,
Trailing Ring
Toiwa didn’t think the governor was pissed at her, personally. But sometimes being downrange of the heads’ anger was part of the job, and this was one of those times.
“How is it that a rising star of the Horizon party, which has staked its future on the referendum about joining the Commonwealth, was gunned down along with the Commonwealth Consul during an off-the-books meeting?” Governor Sahndra Ruhindi didn’t shout in her own situation room. She and Toiwa stood alone by the big holoprojection of Ileri Station, looking like a child’s toy atop the space elevator cable that terminated in New Abuja, the capital. Clusters of aides and staff lurked in the dimly lit corners of the room as the station’s top constable briefed the top politician.
Toiwa reached into the 3D projection of station, grabbed the north ring’s image, and swept her hands apart to zoom in. In seconds, a rendering of the Second Landing Club’s block hung between them. She tapped it twice; an irregular splotch of red covered the building and parts of the surrounding streets. “We’re still working on that, but the EMP wiped the recording devices in the club, along with all the victims’ djinns. Everything in the red area, in fact. I’ve got officers canvasing the district and my technical teams are pulling surveillance data from outside the affected radius. I’ve asked both Minister Ita’s office and the Commonwealth Consulate for their schedules to try and reconstruct their movements prior to the meeting, but they haven’t gotten back to us yet.”
“I hope you’re doing something more robust than throwing beat cops at this,” Ruhindi snapped. She was a sharp-featured woman, and her frown gave her face a decidedly grim cast that her robe and headscarf—couldn’t quite offset. The cluster of hovering aides, hearing her tone, edged away like children trying to escape an argument between parents. “The referendum on joining the Commonwealth is just two weeks away. This assassination has to be aimed at disrupting the vote, or influencing it, and we can’t let that happen.”
Ah, so now it’s “we”. Toiwa counted backwards from five in French before responding. “My people and I understand the stakes, Governor,” she said in her most placatingly calm voice. “And we can read the poll numbers. It’s clear the vast majority of people want to join the Commonwealth. But there’s only four of the First Fourteen worlds still independent, counting Ileri, and some people have strong feelings about staying that way.”
“Hmph.” Ruhindi shook her head. “Heads in the mud, thinking we can go on as we have. Things have changed since the end of the Three-Planet War. Shenzen and Goa are finally starting to bounce back twenty years after nearly kicking each other to death, and with Goa joining the Triumvirate, well.” She flipped through the windows in the big projection field. “The Commonwealth shares our values. Most people understand that joining is our best path forward.”
Always the politician. Ruhindi hadn’t really changed in the decade since they’d met in Elleville, where Toiwa had been an up-and-coming inspector and Ruhindi the deputy mayor. “Be that as it may, Governor, we’ve been dealing with the ongoing conflict between Minister Miguna’s One Worlders and, well, everyone else, ever since the vote was announced.” Toiwa half-turned and waved at the display wall behind her, which at the moment carried feeds of two substantial protests and counter-protests, one in the station’s north ring and one in the trailing ring. “To be honest, I’ve been expecting low-level violence to break out soon. Nothing like this, though.”
“Further violence is unacceptable,” Ruhindi said as she jabbed her index finger at Toiwa. “You’ve got to keep a lid on this, Nnenna. Aside from jeopardizing the vote, this station is our gateway to the rest of the Cluster. Disruption like that can’t be tolerated. Especially not with a Commonwealth warship expected in-system any day.”
And back to it being my problem. She swallowed her anger. “We’re doing our best, Governor,” Toiwa said aloud. “But the Constabulary was stretched thin already keeping up the public order patrols and responding to flash protests along with the scheduled ones. The resources this investigation will require are going to push things over the edge.”
“Dammit, I know you’re a bit short-handed since you’re still cleaning out Ketti’s old guard, but I didn’t realize things were that tight.” Ruhindi had the grace to sound a bit conciliatory; she’d been the one to ask Toiwa to come clean house after the legendarily corrupt but untouchable previous Commissioner had finally died in the saddle, so to speak. Or maybe literally, if the rumors were true. “Can you get help from down the cable?”
“We’re getting some already.” Toiwa called up the data from her djinn and opened a private AR window she shared with the governor. “The New Abuja homicide team is assisting Detective Imoke’s investigators virtually. Likewise for the forensics teams, since none of the station team have experience with a crime of this nature.” People had still been murdered during Ketti’s tenure, of course, just not in large batches, and political assassinations were simply unheard of. Easier to buy people off or get them transferred planetside, or to one of the small subordinate stations elsewhere in the system. One thing she couldn’t fault the Constabulary she’d inherited for was a lack of experience for crimes they’d never seen.
“I’ve also requested additional constables to help maintain order. The first wave is coming up on the morning shuttle, along with some specialists to assist the investigation. A larger contingent will follow via elevator tomorrow, so we’ll see them in four days.”
“Good.” Ruhindi scanned the big display wall behind Toiwa, which had switched from video feeds of key points to some kind of data visualization. Toiwa kept her attention on the governor, who studied the data viz, nodded, and then turned back to her police chief. “You never explained how the assassins got the weapons to use. Someone’s got an unauthorized fabber?”
“That seems most likely.”
“Do you think the Fingers supplied them?”
Toiwa hesitated. Ileri’s most prominent criminal organization was bold, aggressive, and well-entrenched on-station, but they weren’t stupid. “We haven’t ruled it out,” she said finally. “They’ve got the means, and the establishment where the killing took place is one of their fronts, so that’s opportunity covered. But what’s their motive? The Horizon party platform and joining the Commonwealth are both positive things for them, good for their business. More support for the New Arm colonies, which expands their markets.” She shook her head. “My people dropped in on them like a firehawk on a scuttlemouse. We’re going through the club and all their affiliated operations like nanniescanners and I’ve got constables shaking down every known Fingers operative. It’s hard to believe they’d expose themselves to this much attention.”
“Hmm.” Ruhindi nodded, drumming her fingers on the edge of the display table. “Another thing for you to chase down, then.” She stilled her fingers.
“I want you to tie the intelligence agencies into the investigation.”
Toiwa blinked. “They don’t have jurisdiction.”
The governor sighed. “Nnenna, you’re not naive enough to believe they aren’t already digging into this. The Directorate rep hinted as much when she called me earlier, making the case that killing the Commonwealth Consul was very much part of their patch. The domestic branch will claim responsibility for Ita’s killer. The military spies will natter about planetary security.”
“I see,” Toiwa said, her jaw clenched.
“Lighten up, Nnenna, I’m on your side,” Ruhindi scolded.
Are you?
“They’re going to stick their noses in, so better to fold them into the effort up front. You’ll be on stronger footing to retain control.” Ruhindi shrugged. “That’s my advice, anyway.”
She wasn’t wrong, Toiwa thought. Strictly speaking, Toiwa answered to the Constabulary High Commissioner down the cable, and not to the Governor of Ileri Station. The reality was more complicated, of course; the advice of the station’s highest civilian authority carried considerable weight.
She caught the eye of her chief aide, Kala Valverdes, who lurked near the entrance with her uniformed aide, Lieutenant Marie Zheng. She shot Valverdes a brief message requesting ze ask the intel services for liaison officers. Valverdes acknowledged and popped open private AR windows even as Toiwa turned back to Ruhindi. “Thank you, that’s a good point. I’ll do that.”
“Find them, Nnenna.” Ruhindi leaned across the display table, eyes fixed on Toiwa’s. “We can’t let conflict between the factions break into open fighting. This must be solved quickly. The Commonwealth ship coming to observe the referendum is due any day, and that’s going to further set the One Worlders off. We need this put to bed before that happens.”
And do you want the real killers found, or just a plausible suspect? There was a time when Toiwa thought she’d have known Ruhindi’s will, and it would have aligned with Toiwa’s own. But since coming up the cable... she wasn’t so sure anymore.
“Yes, ma’am,” was all she said.
Ruhindi seemed to sense something was amiss, though. “Out with it, Nnenna,” she said. “Something’s eating you.”
There was, in fact. Multiple things, but only one she felt like airing. “Fathya Shariff’s grandson was among the victims,” she said.
“I know.”
“I’m worried she and her partner are going to make problems for the investigation. Could you persuade them to back off?”
Ruhindi laughed out loud, causing the staffers around the room to fall momentarily silent. “I haven’t been here that much longer than you, Nnenna, but even I know that’s a fool’s errand.” She shook her head. “Fathya Shariff can call in favors from just about every person of consequence on the station, and she’s not without influence planetside to boot. Okereke’s got her matched in the civil service and, so I hear, on the extra-legal side.” She fixed Toiwa with a familiar look. “And it’s her grandson. She and Okereke are basically family to each other. This is personal for them. You might as well ask me to stop the world from spinning.”
Toiwa frowned but nodded. “True enough. Should I fold them in as well?”
Ruhindi looked thoughtful. “It couldn’t hurt to read Shariff in. From what I’ve heard, her security firm filled the gaps where your predecessor turned a blind eye. This might be a good opportunity to build a bridge.”
Meiko
Commonwealth Consulate, Ileri Station,
South Ring
The uniformed trooper guarding the door from the consulate’s public foyer to the semi-public office space behind waved Meiko Ogawa through after scanning her djinn. “The bot can’t follow, ma’am,” ze said, pointing at the autopallet bearing Meiko’s scant luggage. “I can page someone to take it to your quarters if you like.”
“It’s no problem. I’ll carry it,” Meiko said, though her muscles and joints protested at the thought. The trooper seemed to pick up on her fatigue, and wordlessly scooped the small duffel up and helped Meiko shrug her thin, aching shoulders into the straps. Ze held the door open as she walked through, then firmly closed it behind her.
Sasha Kumar was waiting for her on the other side. Meiko’s djinn scooped up her public profile, which gave ‘Science Attaché’ as her job title. That was true, though incomplete, just the same way Meiko’s own public profile identified her as a planetary surveyor.
After all, they couldn’t advertise that they were really spies, could they?
“You made good time,” Kumar said, motioning for Meiko to follow her deeper into the block-sized Consulate complex.
“We burned at three gravities the whole way, except for five minutes at turnaround,” Meiko replied. “Whatever you said to the Ileris when you asked them to give me a ride back from 351 Juliette, they certainly treated it as an urgent request.”
Kumar—a short, slight woman with a mass of dark hair Meiko envied—had to slow her pace so Meiko could keep up as she wove a path from the semi-public area, where Ileri citizens sometimes came on official business, into the private, Commonwealth-citizens-only interior. “Are you all right? Do you need to rest before I brief you?” Kumar asked.
Rest sounded wonderful, but it could wait. Now was not the time to demonstrate any impairment, not with escape from exile so tantalizingly close. “I’ll be fine,” Meiko said. “After so long in microgravity, going to three Gs and then to standard in five hours takes a little out of you, even if you put in extra gym time.” Not that she’d had much else to do in her spare time while stuck at the Ileri covert lab on asteroid 351 Juliette besides work out. But at sixty-two, Meiko knew she wouldn’t be bouncing back from this the way she had even ten years earlier.
Kumar led them to a door labeled ‘Secure Briefing Suite’ with a full palm reader lock. A red halo lined the doorway. Kumar ushered her inside, then closed the door behind them and waved her djinn over the pickup beside the entry. The halo changed to green, indicating the auditory and EM shielding was active and the room was now secure. Meiko shrugged out of her duffel’s straps and dropped the bag into a corner, then pulled off her cross-slung satchel and laid that down too. Kumar indicated she should take the chair opposite the station chief’s and she carefully settled into it.
She glanced around the room as Kumar brought up the briefing file on the table’s built-in, hardwired display system. The chairs had the solid feel of metal frames under the generous padding that cushioned her aching butt. She suspected the blond wood paneling was veneer over more substantial soundproofing material, but the table was a solid block of engineered neoteak, or something like it. They’d probably fabbed everything in place back when the Consulate was built to ensure the Ileris, or one of the other powers, hadn’t slipped listening or recording devices into the furnishings as they were printed.
“You scanned the media feeds on your way here?” Kumar said as faces appeared above the tabletop.
“The assassination is the top story,” Meiko said. “I assumed that’s why you brought me back.”
“The murder of our Consul is an ‘all hands to stations’ moment, that’s for sure,” Kumar affirmed. “Even those under a cloud.”
Meiko straightened slightly. “I’ve been certified free of nanoware contamination,” she said carefully. “That’s why I was assigned as a liaison with the Ileri scientists, wasn’t it? Their lab was the best equipped to treat any lingering infection.”
“That’s one reason.” Kumar leaned forward. “Even setting aside your target infecting you with Exile-grade coercion nanoware, your last mission was a disaster. You were supposed to confirm the wreckage on that ice moon was that of the cruiser Fenghuang, and recover the anti-matter conversion bombs if they still somehow existed so they didn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Ah. Here it is. Meiko nodded. “The goal was achieved. The weapons were kept out of hostile hands, and we rescued the survivors in the emergency nanostasis pods once we dug the
m out of the ice.” She took a deep breath. “But I concede many things went wrong.”
“Some of which were due to poor decisions on your part.”
She hesitated before nodding. “Much of that was clear at the time. I’ve recognized other mistakes in the time since.”
“Good. To be clear, I don’t blame you for the nanoware infection. Incorporating it into the stasis gel to ensure they got all of you was rather inspired, if horrifying.”
“Not nearly as horrifying as knowing you’ve got nanoware in your brain able to convince you that your skin is on fire,” Meiko retorted. “Which is what they did to our chief salvage engineer.”
“So I recall, and your point is taken. But still.” Kumar sat back. “The Service is not happy with you, Meiko. The heads suggested it might be time for you retire.” She let that hang in the air.
The silence ticked on for a few seconds as Meiko considered her response. “Do you concur?” she asked, softly.
Kumar took a moment herself before giving her answer. “I think you’ve got a forty-year track record of largely independent action that consistently delivered results,” she said at last. “And right now that record, combined with your long-standing contacts on this station, make you uniquely qualified to help find whomever killed the Consul. And potentially help keep Ileri on track to join the Commonwealth, to boot.” She flipped her hand open and the display filled with headshots of the Consul, Minister Ita, and the other victims. “It would be senseless to set aside an asset like yourself at this juncture.”
“Very utilitarian of you,” Meiko said dryly.
“Meiko.” Kumar leaned towards her, tension obvious in the cords in her neck, and she spoke with fierce intensity. “It’s not just your career at stake here. There’s more going on than you know, and I don’t just mean Ileri joining the Commonwealth. Though that’s a huge thing in itself.”
