Agent X

by Morgan Blayde

  He asked to be thorough, not because he expected contradiction, but the ESI program interrupted him. “Anomaly noted. Request was made to change rooms. One cabin was found unsuitable.”

  His brow furrowed. “I don’t remember that.”

  “The request was made by the Mentakan ambassador. The décor was not to her taste.”

  “Chelsea didn’t like her room? Elissa must have handled the matter, and not bothered me with it.”

  “Affirmative, the Mentakan and Rigelian ambassadors cordially exchanged birthing. The matter was settled.”

  “Then the Mentakan Ambassador might have been the intended target. I want security drones to keep an eye on her at all times.”

  “Drones are being assigned guard detail.”

  “Also, I want to know anything else Elissa did, that might have been prompted by our guests.”

  “Working,” the ESI program announced. “A list is being compiled.”

  Chim nodded curtly. “I’m going to interview Chelsea. She ought to know who on-board might want her dead.”

  Hopefully, the list won’t be too long.

  He left the bridge. The lift took him to guest birthing. At mid-passage, a pair of drones outside Chelsea’s door registered his presence. They passed him without objection. He touched a plate set in a door. His audio pickups let him hear cascading tones inside the cabin, announcing his presence.

  He also caught teasing layers of resonance, a playful enharmonic that changed key with liquid abandon. The music reminded Chim that Mentakans were famous for their crystal-toned symphonies. Steps approached and stopped. The door opened. Hands folded together, Chelsea wore a turquoise nightshirt as she occupied the threshold. “Enter and be welcome.” She gave him a supple bow and retreated.

  “You honor me,” he said.

  “That is my hope,” she said.

  He entered, and studied the room. Oddly enough, everything hanging on the walls had been taken down and stacked in a corner.

  Must have something to do with improving the acoustics, he decided.

  Chelsea settled in a meditative posture atop a mass of pillows. She faced a collapsible writing desk that supported a silver stand. On the stand was a seven-inch spar of blue crystal wrapped with glow-wire. Next to the sculpture, a crystal-chip player brushed his soul with gentle oscillations. The sweeping sounds contrasted harshly with the grief and pain he’d locked away.

  He had an irrational desire to mute the machine with an armored fist.

  He set the impulse aside. Another time, perhaps.

  Chelsea smiled. “Do you like the composition? I call it: Crystal Dreams. I have an extra chip of it, somewhere, unless it’s just walked off. Sometimes, my things do that.”

  Chim was impressed despite his mood. “You wrote that? You are gifted.”

  She shook her head side to side. “Not really. This is good enough to market off-planet, but would never hold an audience on Mentaka Prime. That’s why I chose to pursue a career in government service.”

  “Well…I think the work is good.”

  “For someone as young as I…you mean?”

  “I wasn’t going to say that.”

  She stared up at him with white-fire eyes. Her smile deepened. “No, you weren’t, were you? I’m not sure I can believe the rumors that you’re purely a cybernetic lifeform. Isn’t there a human face under the visor and hood?”

  “I’m here to ask questions, not answer them.”

  She smiled. “Then you’d better give them to me before they clog your circuit paths.”

  Chim couldn’t shake the feeling that the ambassador remained half a step ahead of him on every turn of the conversation. He sensed depths that could not be accounted for in her. Of course, gauging age on colony worlds could be tricky; some planets were kinder than others. Chelsea could be a grandmother, for all he knew.

  He brought the conversation back on track. “There have been violent acts committed aboard ship. Vital systems have been sabotaged. The Rigelian ambassador is dead. I suspect he may have been killed in error. You traded rooms with him. The assassin might not have known.”

  Chelsea’s face mirrored surprise. “You’re saying that he died my death?”

  Chim misquoted a line of ancient verse, “The best laid plans of mice and men…often go to hell. Tell me, who would be happy to dance on your grave?”

  “I have no enemies.”

  Chim knew better; politicians made enemies just by existing. He

  made a suggestion, “Perhaps this is more about ending the Orion Summit than you personally. A great deal of galactic credit is at stake in trade negations.

  Chelsea shrugged a single shoulder just a tiny bit. “You may be right. Love of money shrivels too many souls. Sadly, most people enjoy such reduction.” She leaned forward and touched the meditative crystal, stroking it lovingly. “This is all I treasure.”

  “A crystal?”

  “A family heirloom that came to me late in life. My greatest honor has been to serve as its protector.

  “Guardsman,” the ESI program interrupted with a call only Chim could hear. “Preliminary autopsy reports indicate the Rigelian’s death to be the result of a hyper-sonic weapon. Both his eardrums are ruptured, as well as most of the glass objects within the space.”

  The report proved stimulating. Chim remembered the ruins of Ibis where an ancient weapon nearly killed a team of archeologists. A massive crystal had been unearthed whose song proved debilitating. A similar effect might be at work here. He studied the crystal sculpture on the tiny desk. The first radio transmitters had used crystals. They were capable of generating sound, storing an infinite amount of data as light, and generating various electro-magnetic wavelengths. There was a lot of flexibility in crystal use. Once linked to it, the crystal he’d acquired on Hera had been instrumental in solidifying Elissa’s holographic projections.

  He sub-vocalized a question for the computer, “At the crime scene, did you find a sculpture like the one on the writing desk? Anything holding a chunk of crystal?”

  “You’ve grown quiet,” Chelsea observed. “Is something wrong?”

  “Negative,” the ESI privately reported.

  “It’s nothing,” Chim told Chelsea, “a mild case of paranoia.” He bowed. “I must go. There are a few thoughts I need to chase.”

  “Another time…” Enigmatic as a sphinx, Chelsea kept perfectly still as he left, her blind eyes set on an infinity that was hers alone.

  He left. A short time later, he entered the gym and found Jack in damp sweat clothes, a towel around his neck. The man was sitting on a treadmill, gasping for breath. “Don’t kill yourself,” Chim advised. “There’s too much of that going around as it is.”

  The Ambassador laid back on the tread. “Too late. You can…poke me with a…stick,” he puffed. “I’m…done.”

  Chim gave the man a minute to catch his breath, crossing to the weight bench. The weights and attached bar were on the floor. At some point, the ambassador had weakened to the point where he’d simply let them slide to the floor rather than replace them on the bench brackets.

  Two hundred, not bad for a politician.

  “Meant to put that…back,” Jack called out. “Sorry...”

  “No problem.” Chim bent his knees, grabbed the middle of the bar with one hand, and stood. With the exo-suit doing all the work, it was effortless. He casually placed the bar in its accustomed place, and returned to Jack.

  The man whistled at the display. “You make that look way too easy. Of course, to you, it is. I wouldn’t mind trading places with you. Growing old and arthritic isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “How long have you been working out here.”

  “Couple hours, actually. I’ve been making up for missing my last two workouts. Putting this conference together has kept me busy.”

  Sub-vocalizing, Chim checked with the ESI program. “Has he been here that long?”

  “Affirmative, as far as vid records indicate. H
owever, there is a gap in surveillance coinciding with the attacks. That window of opportunity would allow for unseen movement about the ship by everyone, as long as drones were avoided.”

  Since everyone had opportunity, I’m back to looking at means and motive.

  Chim addressed the ambassador. “I suppose you’ve heard over the comm that there’s been a murder?”

  “Yes, shocking.” Jack climbed to his feet. “Can’t imagine who would have done such a thing. “The old dragon was rather well liked by everyone.”

  “What about his politics? Do they provide a reason anyone would want him dead?”

  “No, not really. Rigel V tends to be conservative as far as trade issues go. I know of no issues being brought to the table that would justify this.”

  Hmmmm. I’m striking out all around, unless Jack is lying, and I don’t see why he would. His answers can be verified too easily. I think this case is going to be solved by forensics alone, if it’s solved at all.

  “Thank you, Mr. Ambassador. You’ve been helpful.”

  The man shrugged. “I can’t see how, but you’re welcome.”

  Chim excused himself and left. In the hallway, the ESI program addressed him. “Until the crime scene reports are completed, there is little more you can do. I recommend you return to your cabin for food and rest.”

  The suggestion caught Chim by surprise. The computer didn’t ordinarily offer advice. As he reflected on the matter, it grew clear. Monitoring the human element of the ship/agent team was part of the computer’s job. Evaluation parameters had been programmed in. Apparently, he’d neglected his personal needs long enough for the system

  to red flag his conduct and offer correction.

  It’s probably also watching for signs of grief-driven irrationality. The ESI program can’t remove me from command, but it can forward a report to headquarters. They’d act if they thought a loose cannon was about to run amok. Better go along with the damn machine on this one.

  He returned to his personal suite and climbed out of the exo-suit. Hunger remained a dim memory, but he forced himself to the food dispenser and consumed a nutrient shake and a tasteless synthetic version of a granola bar. In his bedroom, he peeled off the insulation suit with its interface patches, letting it fall to the floor like a shed skin.

  Chim stared at the empty bed. Though Elissa’s holo image was gone, he still saw her his mind’s eyes, writhing, agonized...dying.

  He returned to the living room and settled cross-legged on the pile of pillows he regularly used for meditation. Raging demons were straining for release in his soul. He needed to tie them down so he could do his job. Duty, his first mistress, required this of him.

  “Computer,” he called, “Open audio files. Play selections randomly.”

  Music penned centuries before on mother Earth filled the room. Slung from hidden speakers, it wrapped him in gentle wings, cracking some of the ice on his frozen soul. Beauty was the only anesthesia he allowed himself. Eyes closed, he cleared his thoughts, falling inward across a dark infinity.

  An unknown quantity of time passed as his breathing deepened. He hovered on the edge of sleep.

  Then it came, a voice that resonated into the shadowed chambers of his wounded heart. “Chim!”

  Elissa?

  His heart fluttered. He opened his eyes. A few feet away, with a blood-red glow instead of a gold one, she reached toward him while floating in the air. Her projection jerked and flickered, thinning in places with spasms of static.

  “Chim, help me!”

  He sprang to his feet, unsure of his senses. “You’re still alive?” He staggered closer, attempting to touch her hand. The projection lacked solidity. His hand went through her, feeling nothing, but he chose to believe in her.

  “What’s happened to you?” he asked.

  “Felt myself…dying… Downloaded into crystal. Another universe…in here… So h-hard to…”

  She faded out.

  He felt frustration as well as elation cutting deep. Something was serious wrong with her, but Elissa had found a way to survive! He felt tears on his face.

  “Computer, you saw that image, right?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Good. That proves I’m not crazy. As Elissa died, she must have transferring her mind directly into the Hera crystal.”

  “A valid hypothesis,” the ESI program stated.

  “How long can she last that way,” Chim demanded. “I won’t lose her again!”

  “This situation is unique to my records. I can only monitor the crystal and graph the energy fluctuations. After gathering more data, I may be able to create a probability curve.”

  “Do it. Meanwhile, I think I know someone who can help.”

  Chelsea knows crystal technology; her planet pioneered all the innovations in the field. She has practical experience in crystal recording, and is a lot closer than anyone else.

  He dressed, slipped into the waiting exo-suit, and went to get the ambassador.

  Chim stood with Chelsea on the engineering deck. They stared into the null-gee cradle that held the Hera stone. Its crimson glow pulsed like a beating heart under the fan-like beams of the tap that connecting it to the holo-projection system. Chelsea extended her hand hesitantly toward the crystal.

  “I can feel its energy. And there’s a song, just at the edge of hearing, like the tortured cry of a ghost.”

  “Can you help her or not?” Chim asked.

  “I can, but I won’t.”

  “You…won’t? May I ask—?”

  “Why? Because doing so would betray trade secrets entrusted to me by my world. I’m sorry.”

  He contemplated plucking the ambassador into the air and squeezing her head until she reconsidered. Of course, the ESI would be sure to object and it controlled the drones. He decided that he didn’t care. I’m going to do what I have. Let’s see how resolved she really is.

  “Elissa is very important to me,” he explained carefully. “You should reconsider.” There was nothing in his words for the ESI program to object to, but he used a tone of voice that echoed with dire consequences.

  Chelsea sucked in a sudden deep breath, backing slowly away. She understood what he hadn’t said.

  He tried again, reaching out on another level, “Please.” The single word hung painfully between them, carrying the force of his need. “I love her.”

  Chelsea stopped, blind eyes boring through the soul he hid. “All right,” she said. “I’ll help you, on my terms.”

  “Tell me what you need.”

  “Privacy. Clear the drones out of here. Close down computer monitoring of this space. I want there to be no record of my activities.”

  “The ESI program will still monitor the engineering systems in here,” Chim said. “The safety of the ship requires this.”

  “That’s fine—but nothing else.”

  “I’d like to be present.”

  “I figured as much. I need to get something from my cabin.”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  She hurried away, stepping loudly so that the sound her footsteps swept before her. Once she was gone, the ESI program addressed him. “Stress analysis of your voice during the preceding conversation contains dangerous spikes.”

  “You have a point?” Chim asked.

  “A yellow flag has been entered in your psychological profile. I am required by system protocols to notify you of this event.”

  “Fine. I’m notified. Now, do what the lady said. Deactivate direct surveillance until I countermand the order. You can keep track of me through the exo-suit’s bio-telemetry.”

  “Order received. Complying.”

  He waited with thinning patience. Soon, the ambassador returned with the meditative crystal he’d seen earlier in her stateroom. It was all she appeared to need. That fact induced wild speculation that simmered beneath his concern for Elissa.

  Chelsea approached the null-gee cradle. The red mass at its heart flared as the blue crystal came
closer. The stones synchronized their light pulses, appearing to feed off of each other in some inexplicable exchange.

  “When I put this sculpture inside the cradle,” she said, “there could be some strange photonic displays.”

  “Like the Aurora Borealis, in Earth’s northern hemisphere?” Chim asked.

  “Nothing that mild,” Chelsea warned. “Don’t do anything hasty, even if I lose consciousness. If you stop the process too soon, you will likely destroy the one you want to save. If you can’t trust your self-restraint, you should leave now.”

  “I give you my word not to interfere.”

  Blind eyes turned his way. Chelsea studied him, then smiled briefly. “Accepted. I’m going in.”

  She thrust the meditative sculpture into the cradle’s power web. The crystals, red and blue, cast out a fierce violet incandescence that oscillated through dozens of shades. The wash filled the immediate area, making the space alien and surreal.

  Chelsea stepped back, hands empty, and crumpled with a sigh to the

  deck. Chim lunged in to catch her, but did nothing to interfere with the crystals. His faceplate turned to the cradle, filtering out the glare that escaped the cage of beams. There was no way he could understand the process that had been initiated. All he could do was ride out the light-storm and hope for the best.

  An eternity later, the glow dimmed, leaving the two crystals dull and enervated. Chelsea stirred in his grasp. Her eyes fluttered open. They were red pools of light. She smiled, speaking softly. “Chim, my love…” her hand settled against the platinum bands crossing his chest plate—as if she could feel the pounding heart beneath the shell. “You got me out.” She looked at her hand, turning it, marveling at its structure and compliance. Her fingers wiggled. Her eyes widened. “But whose body am I in?”

  “Elissa? That’s really you! What happened to the ambassador?”

  “I think I remember seeing her in there.” Elissa’s face turned to the Hera crystal. “Though I’m not sure seeing is the right word.”

  Chim held Elissa against him, half afraid she’d vanish beyond his touch if he ever let her go. He stared at the cradle. “So, she traded places, giving you her body?”