“You’ll see for yourself, in just a few minutes. I’ll run you by the quarters we set up for you, then we’ll go straight to the scene,” he announced.
I could have asked a lot more questions, but I know when someone is being tight-lipped on purpose. So, I tried a different tactic.
“Must have been pretty bad, to call us. My understanding is you guys like to handle things on your own.”
There was no malice or antagonism in my voice, but that didn’t matter. The fellow in front of me had already made up his mind about what kind of cop I was, so he filled in the necessary blanks to make that statement an insult.
He stopped, and turned to look me straight in the eyes.
“It wasn’t my idea, believe me. System government is already causing us enough grief. But, my father is of the old order. He remembers when ‘us guys’ were still considered a part of the social order.”
“Did someone say you weren’t?” I asked, with a casual lift of an eyebrow. In reply, my host coughed softly, and turned away from me again.
That was just as well, since it allowed me the chance to sneak a little smile at getting under his skin so easily. It also gave me the opportunity to catch up with him, without running up in an undignified shuffle.
A little victory, but it mattered to me. There was a thin line you had to walk on these ships. You couldn’t show weakness, but you couldn’t make enemies, either.
We continued in silence, as I dropped off my bag in the tiny little cubicle I would be sleeping in, and then made our way up to another deck, and the crime scene.
I’ve been on the job for a while, now. I’ve seen some pretty brutal things. But what awaited me at the end of that little journey through the ship…
It was just plain wrong.
“How?” was all I could think to say.
“That’s just one of the questions we’re hoping you could answer,” announced an elderly gentleman standing on the other side of the scene. He made his way around to me.
“And you are?” I asked.
“Captain Garrett Maron,” he told me, sticking out his hand. “And I am very glad to have you aboard, at the moment, Detective Stone.”
There was a vaguely dissatisfied noise coming from my guide before he walked away.
“What can you tell me about the scene?”
I learned, some time ago, that my first duty, in any investigation, is to separate facts from feelings. Whatever was going on between members of this ship’s crew, it wasn’t my business. Until my investigation showed me that it was related to the crime, it was in my best interests to stay out of it.
Apparently, the captain felt the need to try and muddy those philosophical waters.
“I’m sorry if Everett wasn’t too welcoming. He and I have different views about the System Government, I’m afraid.”
I replayed the mental recording of my previous, brief conversation. “My father is of the old order.”
“Everett. Your son?” I suggested, just now noting the strong similarities between the two men.
“My son, and first officer. He would as soon try and figure this out on our own, regardless of how impossible it was.”
In unison, the captain and I turned back to the scene that had brought me aboard ship.
There were four of them. The youngest looked to be around seventeen, the other three couldn’t be much older. They were inside one of the algae vats used to collect the life-giving primary food source of most of these crews. Only, this vat was empty of algae. It looked as though some kind of thermal device was used, searing away the algae, instantly evaporating the water, and fusing the four bodies into the sides of the vat itself.
There wasn’t much in the way of burns. Most likely, the evaporating water protected the skin from the bulk of it. But the force of the blast did enough. I estimated that they were dead before they even realized there was a problem.
“Did you find evidence of a thermal device?” I asked.
The captain shook his head. “Afraid not. But, we figured that it probably was designed to completely disintegrate upon activation.”
I nodded. I had run across that before. I carefully worked my way into the vat, being careful not to touch the bodies. I wasn’t ready to process them, just yet.
“Has anybody been in here?” I asked.
“A few. These four were a maintenance crew assigned to this section of the ship. When they didn’t report in at end-of-shift, their relief crew came in and found them like this.”
“A blast like this would have been pretty loud,” I noted. “Nobody heard anything?”
The captain shrugged.
“We pass through several sections where the engine noise gets really loud.”
I remembered hearing that engine before we came in. I’d need to know more about the ship’s layout. Fortunately, that was not a problem. I focused my mind, activating a unit of diagnostic nano-robots. They were designed to run through my body and check to make certain that I was in good health, but I had learned a new and very useful function that they were capable of performing.
I drew in a long breath, and exhaled, deeply. To the captain, it looked like I was just concentrating on the scene. In reality, I was releasing about a thousand little microscopic androids into the atmosphere. They would, per my instructions, run through every section of this ship, then return to me and download what they had discovered.
In about an hour, I would have a very detailed schematic of the ship, including ductwork, air ventilation, and even the water lines.
“Any thoughts?” the captain asked.
I turned to look at him. His look of concern, I could tell, was not just for the safety and protection of the crew.
I remembered how close knit the crew was on the California, my ship when I was a kid. When someone got hurt, everyone pitched in to help them in any way they could. I knew that it was probably the same here.
“You knew these four pretty well?” I asked, knowing the answer.
He nodded. “James Cullum, Darcy McCreay, Archie Ruddin, and the youngest, Finn Gollerby.” He breathed out. “I helped deliver Finn when he was born.”
“I am genuinely sorry for your loss, Captain Maron.” I meant it, too.
The captain stared off into space for a moment. “I appreciate that. Just…just find out how this happened, and why.”
I looked at the man intently. “How and why?” I clarified.
“Pardon?”
“You asked me to find out ‘how,’ and ‘why’. I find it interesting that you’re not more concerned with, ‘who’ killed these four people.”
The captain waved off my interest. “You’ll find out, soon enough. The reason I’m not asking who is because I’m pretty damn sure I already know. We had a visit from some of the Free Space Militia a few days ago, spreading their usual garbage.”
I’d heard of the Free Space Militia, of course. They were a radical and violent sect of the Independent People, determined to rally others into formally seceding from the System Government.
“You think they had a hand in this?” I asked.
“Oh, I certainly do. They’ve been getting really forceful, lately. They warned me that if I didn’t support their cause, there would be consequences. This looks like a consequence to me.”
I thought about that. It certainly fit with what I knew about the group. And it would be easy enough to sneak a device in and set the timer. I thought that over as I scanned the scene, allowing my optical memory to preserve it all in pristine detail, for later review.
“If you wouldn’t mind, Captain, I’d like a moment with the crime scene. I’d like to speak with everyone who last saw the victims, after. Would you mind setting that up?”
The captain seemed like he was about to protest leaving me alone, but rethought it. He nodded.
“I’ve got a room set up for you to…interview people. I’ll gather everyone together, then come get you.”
I knew that the captain didn’t want to subje
ct his people to what he was certain was a grilling, but I wouldn’t get very far in my investigation without those interviews. He would just have to trust me not to be too rough on them.
I turned my attention to the bodies. This was the unpleasant part. I carry a variety of forensic tools with me at all times. Once upon a time, that little kit would have taken up a large box. These days, it all fits in my pocket.
First, I visually examined each body, noting where each was positioned and the patterns of contusions. I ran a few calculations, and determined that the device was most likely at the center of the vat, where it would do the most damage.
It was during that cursory examination that I noted something odd. There were scorch marks on three of the bodies, along with a bit of odd foreign matter embedded into them. I checked around. There wasn’t any more in the vat, or even around it. And none, whatsoever, on the fourth body.
Something was off, here, and I had a sneaking suspicion about its source. I proceeded with the examination.
I was just wrapping things up when the captain returned. “Perfect timing,” I told him, slipping a multi-spectrum heat register back into my pocket. “I just finished here.”
“Oh, good.”
I could tell the captain was uncomfortable. I figured I owed him a little relief.
“I’m sorry I sent you away. Processing the bodies can get a little…invasive. I’ve found that it is better for everyone if I do it alone—particularly when it comes to people who were close to the victims. I hope you understand, Captain.”
“Of course. It’s just a little difficult.”
That was an understatement, and I knew it. The captain might be more trusting of the System Government than most, but he still had all the same prejudices about us.
I pulled myself out of the vat, and patted my clothes down. There was a lot of dirt down there.
“Alright, then. Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”
The interviews were pretty standard. A girlfriend who saw her boyfriend off to work after breakfast. A brother who spoke with one of them the previous night. Partygoers who recalled seeing another one two days earlier.
Only one of the victims was unrepresented. Nobody could recall seeing Archie Ruddin prior to a week from his shift. Apparently, he had called in sick and was holed up in his quarters. According to his supervisor, he was actually surprised to see his name returned to the roster.
That sole fact was of interest to me.
By the time the interviews were over, I was ready to get back to my room and start putting things together. By this time, the nano-robots had returned, and I had accessed their data, providing a detailed description of the ship. I used that to plot a timeline for the victims’ final movements, tracking them through the ship along their mostly likely routes to the vat.
I noted a few other things, as well.
I was just about to go into Ruddin’s illness, when I was interrupted by a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I called, without getting up.
The door opened, and a little wisp of a girl, barely out of her teens, walked in.
“Excuse me, sir… I was just wondering if you wanted anything. Food, something to drink?”
I looked her over quickly. It didn’t take a trained detective to figure out that her arrival had nothing to do with food and water.
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
It was common practice for ships to provide companionship for a detective when he was working a case. I’m no prude, but I’ve always found this tradition to be counterproductive. I liked to stay focused. A distraction, regardless of how enjoyable, was the last thing I needed when I was working. For that reason, I was a bit more brusque than I would normally be.
“Oh. Okay.”
She was still there. I knew this was not going to be an easy rebuff.
“Look. I have a lot of work to do. So, if you have a question, I’ll do my best to answer it, but I really need to get back to what I’m doing,” I told her.
She looked uncertain, as though it never occurred to her that more might be required of this particular seduction than simply showing up. She took a moment or two before she found her voice.
“Does it hurt, ever?”
I cocked my head to the side. Hurt? What, exactly, was this girl talking about?
“I’m sorry?”
“Your…” she pointed to my eyes. “Everett told me you had implants. Said he could see the glint of metal when you came on board.”
So, that was it.
“No. It doesn’t hurt. They don’t feel any different than anyone else’s eyes. That’s how cybernetics are supposed to work.”
“Is there any other… Do you have other enhancements?” she asked, a glint in her eye.
I don’t know why it is that so many people leap to that conclusion. I’m never sure whether to be flattered, insulted, or just plain annoyed.
“I need to get back to work,” I said, “I don’t want to be rude, but I don’t have time for…visitors.”
She blushed. “I…I’m sorry. I’ll go,” she stammered.
I felt guilty. I didn’t want her to feel like I was being cruel.
“What’s your name?”
“Lola.”
Her voice had gone as soft as a whisper.
“Well, Lola. I’d recommend you be more careful about approaching strange men like me in the future. Someone might get the wrong impression. They might not understand your curiosity, okay?”
She nodded, then hurriedly left. She closed the door behind her, and I was left alone, once more with my work.
“Glint of metal!” I quietly swore, looking into the small mirror set into the wall.
Suddenly, a thought bounced into my head. There had been a few details that hadn’t been adding up, and I was beginning to see why.
I ran through the data I had collected earlier. As I did, a series of events began to unfold. I would need to confirm a few things, but I had a hunch I was right.
I set to work. If I was correct, I’d be able to settle everything by the morning.
It took most of the night, but I had my answer. Just to be clear, I don’t normally tie up a case this quickly, but…
I sent word for the captain to meet me at the interview room. I wasn’t surprised to find that he was not alone when I arrived.
“Captain, Everett,” I greeted the two men.
“Detective, you said you had some details for us.”
I probably should have felt bad, listening to the hope in his voice. He was expecting resolution, anticipating that I would deliver a verdict. He believed that he would be able to tell the families something that would offer closure.
I was about to tell him something that was guaranteed to do the opposite.
“I was up all last night, verifying my findings, checking the databases… Well, the point is I’ve got some news.”
There was that hopeful look, again. Damn.
“Was it the Free Space Militia?” the captain asked. I couldn’t help but note Everett’s silence.
“I might as well come out with it. Captain, I’ve got good news, bad news, and much worse news.” I paused. “All of the evidence is pretty conclusive. I know what happened.”
“Can we get on with this?” Everett interrupted.
I smiled. He would want to hurry this along, I suppose.
“That was the good news. The bad news is that all the evidence points to your son, Everett.”
I let the shock of the moment wash over the captain. I also allowed Everett that slim little sliver of victory, as he tried not to look so damn superior.
The arrogant little bugger was enjoying this, which almost made up for the turmoil I was about to inflict on this ship’s crew.
“But… But, how?” asked the captain.
I decided to play along, for the moment. Why not? It is, after all, why I was brought here.
“I took a look at the ship’s roster, comparing it to the locations and verified positio
ning of your crew at the supposed time of death. Everett was the only one unaccounted for. My analysis of the crime scene, and the forensic evidence available, determined that the device was not activated by a timer, as was previously believed, but by a proximity sensor. All someone would have to do, would be to stand within twenty meters—a safe enough distance, but close enough to verify that the end result was satisfactory. Only thing is, to be that close, you’re bound to leave behind some kind of trace DNA. DNA, which I found. Those two things gave your son means and opportunity. The hidden transmission recordings I unearthed in your communications logs, between Everett and the Free Space Militia, give him motive.”
The captain was beside himself, sputtering and gesticulating wildly, trying to reason through such an outrageous possibility. Everett, on the other hand, remained as calm as a derelict moon.
“Well, don’t just stand there!” yelled the captain. “Say something! Defend yourself!”
Everett stoically refused to utter a word.
“I don’t blame you, Everett. What good would talking do? You certainly don’t want to convict yourself. That would screw up the plan. And, defending yourself, well… That would be even worse, now, wouldn’t it?”
For a brief, nearly nonexistent moment, Everett allowed a cloud of doubt to pass over his face.
“What?” he asked.
I smiled.
“That brings us to the, ‘much worse news,’ I had mentioned earlier. That is directed solely at you, Everett: I’m on to your little scheme. I know that you didn’t kill these people. Fact is, three of them were victims of an accident, earlier this week. Mr. Ruddin, however, died of his illness.”
I motioned to the chair in front of me, as though suggesting that Everett might want to sit down before I continued. He declined, but his father took the chair, nonetheless.
“It was the scorch marks that gummed up the works, initially. They had trace amounts of magnesium. Since I verified that absolutely no magnesium was used in the vats—bad for the algae, I’m told—I was left to wonder how that happened. Then, I studied their earlier assignments. Ventilation scrubbing, four days ago.”
“I don’t understand,” the captain said, weakly.
“Ventilation scrubbing,” I continued, “is a dangerous job. All those chemical deposits that build up in the vents and ducts. One wrong move, one unintended spark in the wrong place… My guess is that their foreman was worried that he would be blamed for negligence. That’s why he called Everett.”
Moon Shot Page 6
