Overload Flux

by Carol Van Natta

  He was waiting for her when she came back to their room. He openly admired her as she dressed, glad she wasn’t shy about her body. She wore the new tunic over her own patched pants because the ones purchased from the Khong Met Moi were hugely too big for her slender hips. She sat at the small desk to read his report on the display. Tempting as it was to make love with her again, they needed to talk. His discussion with Jerzi had him thinking about the future.

  “Mairwen, what do you want to do when we get back to Etonver?”

  She froze, her face suddenly neutral. He remembered seeing that look when she’d thought she was going to be fired. That wasn’t what he’d intended at all. He pulled her up and into his arms, and felt her stiffness.

  “I’ll tell you what I want, my love. I want you in my life, any way I can have you. I’ll visit you and stay the night as often as you’ll let me. Better yet, come live with me. Be my partner, work cases with me, help me think.” He took a deep breath to steady himself. “I don’t want to stampede you or pressure you, because I’m afraid it’ll make you pull away or leave me, so I’m asking, what do you want?”

  She’d relaxed slowly as he spoke. She took a long time answering.

  “I feel things with you. I didn’t used to care one way or the other about people, or different foods, or having preferences, because they weren’t real to me until I met you. I don’t know if our relationship will survive a normal, daily routine that doesn’t involve murder, combat, and running for our lives. I don’t know if La Plata will let me stay, because Zheer knows my records are... incomplete. I don’t trust other people to keep you safe, except perhaps Jerzi because he admires you, but I’m not even sure I can keep you safe, because you distract me to where all I think about is having sex with you in inappropriate places.”

  It was the longest personal speech he’d ever heard from her. He held her strong, beautiful face in his hands and kissed her with thankful reverence. He sat in the small padded armchair and pulled her into his lap, cradling her in his arms.

  “Three things. First of all, I’ve been dreaming of a normal, daily routine with you, preferably one that has us going to sleep together every night, like we did in the hybrid forest, though I prefer actual beds to tarps. If you hate my townhouse, I’ll sell it and we’ll find something together, when you’re ready. Second, La Plata damned well better let you stay and be my partner, or I’ll find somewhere else to work. Zheer may suspect you’re much more than what your records say, but you already passed a mid-level background check, and I’m betting there’s nothing to find. More importantly, I don’t think she’ll care. Something she said yesterday makes me think she sees value in a surprisingly skilled employee with such an innocuous background.”

  “I can’t be your partner. I don’t know how to investigate. You’re creative and brilliant and good with words and people. I’m just a…”

  “…a night-shift guard?” he finished. “To quote the late and entirely unlamented Haberville, then I’m the First Flight Queen of Albion Prime.”

  Mairwen, his beloved warrior, had invaluable unconventional knowledge in the ways people could be traced or killed. She was controlled, well-prepared, and crafty, not to mention as tenacious as he was, and together they made a formidable team. And that wasn’t even taking into account her extraordinary senses and tracker skills. He’d tell her all those reasons and more when he was sure they were truly alone.

  She snorted, half in exasperation, half in amusement. “What’s the third thing?”

  He’d forgotten his third point. The feel and smell of her were sending warmth into his core, and his brain was getting short shrift as his blood flow went south. He kissed her neck and nibbled her earlobe with teeth and tongue, which made her tremble in response.

  “Third, engillinn minn, my angel, tell me about these inappropriate places you have in mind...”

  CHAPTER 30

  * Planet: Rekoria * GDAT 3237.157*

  Four months later on Rekoria, winter winds were blowing full force, rattling the dark windows of the small but luxurious apartment. Mairwen saw Luka suppress a shiver, despite the thick dark green sweater he wore. The storm was only one reason he was cold. The other was because he was using his talent to reconstruct the crime scene of an unknown blond male lying on the floor in a pool of congealing blood. From what the preliminary police investigation said, and Luka was confirming, not all the blood spilled and splattered on the walls belonged to the dead man.

  Mairwen looked at Nouri, the police officer who’d been ordered to stay with them, to see if he’d noticed Luka’s reaction. So far, the older, thick-bodied man had paid them scant attention. It was late enough that he probably didn’t care what Luka did, as long as it was expeditious and didn’t involve tampering with the evidence. Fortunately, Nouri wasn’t the chatty type, and didn’t seem to be disturbed by the violent crime scene.

  To reinforce her role as Luka’s uninteresting assistant, Mairwen parked herself in a security-guard stance near the large forensic kit. Luka had done most of the talking, though she had pointed out that the apartment’s upscale security recording system had been turned off.

  Someone who knew Luka would have said he was looking distracted and stressed, but not unduly so. Seshulla Zheer hadn’t expected him to agree to do the rush crime scene reconstruction job, but it didn’t surprise Mairwen. Since they’d returned to Etonver, he’d been working diligently with his brutal memories to get control of his reconstruction talent. A fresh, violent crime scene would be the acid test.

  He rose from where he’d been crouching and crossed to the kit. He pulled out a small instrument and handed it to her.

  “Do a preliminary check of the other rooms for blood splatter.”

  He caught her eye and rubbed his nose briefly. He was suggesting she use her extraordinary sense of smell. The hemolytic vapor spectrum analyzer, known as a blood sniffer for short, would be a cover for her actions. He’d been using forensic reconstruction instruments as a cover for his own talent for years. She nodded her understanding and headed down the tiny hall.

  Although it had been simpler in this case to let the police assume she was Luka’s minimally skilled assistant, she’d actually been promoted to investigator and Luka’s partner two months ago. He professed innocence, but she was still convinced he’d pressured Zheer into it. The new position made her far more visible than she’d ever imagined being able to tolerate. But then again, she’d never imagined having friends or falling in love with Luka. She would have taken almost any job that let her keep that.

  Her examination found nothing to contradict their client’s story of having been alone before the dead man broke in, raped and tortured him, and nearly killed him. The bedroom, closet, and fresher only had one person’s scent, and it wasn’t that of the dead man. The client’s rich parents had hired La Plata when the focus of the police questions implied they thought it was a lovers’ disagreement turned tragic, meaning they might be arraigning the young man for homicide.

  She returned to the living area, where Luka pointed out other specific areas of interest where she should use the sniffer. For tiny samples such as blood drops, the device was better than her nose at differentiating between sources. She thought she might be able to taste the difference since the crime was only hours ago, but she thought Officer Nouri might object if she licked blood splatter from the wall.

  The dead man had died from being gutted with a carving knife. If the client's story was true, the painful death was deserved. The client was in the emergency trauma ward with multiple contusions, lacerations, and burn wounds, and would likely need post-traumatic experience treatment with a good sifter telepath.

  Luka was still taking images and measurements around the body, especially the outstretched right hand. He frowned.

  “Officer Nouri, did the investigators remove anything from this hand?”

  The man nodded. “Illegal weapon.”

  “Really? What’s illegal in Etonver?” asked Luka, with
a tinge of cynicism in his tone.

  The officer snorted. “Amped wirekey. It was still sparked.”

  Luka raised an eyebrow. “That’s a theft crew tool.”

  Adding power to a wirekey made it better for forcing cheap locks, which is what made it illegal. Etonver law placed a high value on the sanctity of possessions.

  Nouri grunted, but didn’t say anything. Mairwen suspected he knew the lead homicide detective was on the wrong track with the “lovers’ spat” theory, but wasn’t going to admit it to civilians. Nouri was looking restive, and it wasn’t long before he asked when they’d be done.

  Luka looked around, then at the clock. “In about thirty minutes.”

  Nouri frowned. “I need to use a fresher. Protocol says I should seal you out while I go find one that isn’t part of the crime scene.” He looked at the front door, which was barely staying upright on a single warped hinge, and sighed. “Oh, to hell with it. I’d rather have you in here than some sticky-fingered neighbor. I’ll be back in a few.”

  Nouri walked faster than she’d seen him move all evening as he left the apartment. She turned up her hearing to listen as his footsteps led him down the hall and down the stairs.

  Luka drifted her way, watching her. When Nouri was out of her hearing range, she nodded, and he glided to within inches of her.

  “What does your nose say?” he asked quietly. The buttery pearwood scent of him was a welcome change from all the blood in the room.

  “Outside of police personnel, only two humans have been in the apartment in the last few days—the person who sleeps in the bed and him.” She tilted her head toward the dead man. “He didn’t get further than the couch. It smells of blood and burned flesh. He smells like coconut oil, chems and smoke, like from a pub, and sex fluids. I think I’ve run across his scent before, but I can’t remember where.” Scents she’d imprinted, like Luka’s, were unforgettable, but the hundreds of others she ran across daily she tended to forget after a while.

  “Our client has wirekey wounds on his genitals, like the torture marks on Vadra Amhur. Could that be the smell you remember?”

  Mairwen shook her head. “I never got close enough to Amhur’s body.” Luka had been her main concern at the time. She gave him a searching look now and lightly brushed her fingertips across the back of his hand. “How are you?”

  He caught her hand and squeezed it gently before letting it go. His fingers were cold.

  “I’m okay. Thank you.”

  She knew he was thanking her for more than just inquiring about his status. She gave him a small smile.

  He took a deep breath, then stepped back. “Let’s get the camera cloud running while Nouri is out of the way.”

  She’d assisted him at other more mundane crime scenes, and she’d read the complete instructions for most of the tools in his reconstruction kit, so they had the little flying cameras working quickly. She and Luka stepped into the hallway so the cameras could do their job. He was using the gridded composite viewer to control them when she heard footsteps on the stairs.

  She pitched her voice just loud enough for Luka to hear. “Nouri’s coming. Someone’s with him.”

  Luka nodded. “We’re good.” He led her into the apartment to stand just to the left of the doorway.

  Nouri’s companion turned out to be one of the detectives who’d been leaving just as she and Luka arrived three hours and forty minutes earlier.

  Both Nouri and the detective, a short Chinese woman with even shorter hair, were intrigued by the cameras that were now swarming the bloodstained kitchen.

  “I’ll wager those glossy toys cost a month’s salary,” Nouri said.

  Luka grinned at him. “Four month’s, but they’re stellar, aren’t they?”

  Mairwen, once again standing at the open forensic kit near the door, suppressed a smile. She was glad when Luka ran across other technology fans. She wasn’t a good partner for him in that regard. She trusted her own senses more, especially since she’d allowed herself to use them more often. It helped that Luka still marveled at them and encouraged her.

  The detective turned to Luka.

  “I’m Investigator Hsu Wei. I’m the new primary on this case. Anything you can tell me now that will help?” Her English was impeccable, but Mairwen thought Mandarin was her primary language.

  Luka raised an eyebrow. “I thought Harless was leading.”

  Hsu Wei exchanged a glance with Nouri, then looked back at Luka. “Harless was reassigned.” She kept a straight face, but Nouri snorted.

  Mairwen guessed it was internal politics. She was getting better at recognizing them since she’d started attending meetings with Luka and interacting with co-workers and clients. It made her occasionally wistful for the night shift.

  “Depends on your theory of the case,” said Luka. Mairwen heard the thread of resolve in his voice. If the detective proved as arrogantly opinionated as Harless, she’d get nothing out of Luka.

  “I don’t have one,” Hsu Wei said. “That’s why I’m asking what the evidence says. Just an overview.”

  Luka gave her an assessing look, then nodded.

  “The dead man forced the lock with the wirekey your techs collected earlier and assaulted the man in the apartment. Zip-tied his hands, dragged him to the couch, had rough sex with him there. Used the wirekey to burn him. The zip-tie was cut.” He pointed to the floor near the couch, where the zip-tie with burned edges lay. “They fought. They hit the door hard enough to pop the hinges. They ended up in the kitchen area, where the knives were knocked on the floor. The apartment man stabbed the dead man in the gut and crawled to the wall comp and pinged for help. He dropped the knife there and stayed. The dead man moved a little but bled out where he is now.”

  “Did they know each other?”

  Luka shook his head. “Evidence doesn’t say.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Thanks.” She looked around at the mess and sighed. “Nouri, I’ll be in the cruiser. Ping me when they’re done.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said.

  The detective left, and Luka sent the swarm of cameras into the bedroom.

  Twenty-two minutes later, Mairwen and Luka were packed up and out the door.

  * * * * *

  Even though he’d turned up the heat in his townhouse, Luka was still cold. He put the finishing touches on his report, then encrypted it and sent it to La Plata with a flag for Zheer. The samples he’d secured in his closet safe could wait until tomorrow. Zheer would forward the report to both the client and the police, as they’d agreed. He never wanted his work used to hide the truth, although it looked like it wouldn’t be a problem in this case.

  He stretched in his chair, from his fingers down to his bare toes, then looked at the clock. No wonder he was nearly flatlined. It was almost one in the morning, meaning he’d been up for more than twenty hours. He needed sleep, but first he needed to get warm. He went in search of Mairwen.

  He found her in the kitchen, where she handed him a mug of hot chocolate. Her own mug was already half empty. She had no interest in cooking, but she had learned to make excellent hot chocolate. He was glad he’d introduced it to her before they’d left the ill-fated Beehive. He’d heard that both the Beehive and the exploration spacer had been deemed irreparably contaminated by exposure to the hybrid planet samples, and had been given one-way trips into the Insche 255 star. Expensive losses for the owners.

  “How was your night?” she asked.

  He knew she meant with his talent. “Good, but I was careful. I imagined I was running anytime there was even a hint of trouble. It made me slower than usual. I’ll get better.”

  “Then you plan to take more violent crime cases.” There was a note of concern in her statement. She was still fiercely protective of him. It warmed him in a way no external heat source ever could.

  “Maybe. They’re always hard, but I’m good at them. The dead and the living deserve the truth.” He took a sip of hot chocolate. It was just the right te
mperature to have several swallows more.

  She sipped from her mug. “Is the client telling the truth?”

  “Unofficially? Yeah, I think he is. What do you think?”

  She gave him a slight smile and an eyebrow twitch. “That you’re a brilliant man.”

  He laughed. “Thank you. Nice dodge.”

  He knew she thought she didn’t deserve to be an investigator, and that Zheer had promoted her as a favor to him. As if Zheer did anything she didn’t want to do. He had suggested it, but hadn’t expected Zheer to jump on it so fast. She’d been right, though. Mairwen was already proving her value to the company.

  He sidled closer to her. “Will you stay tonight?”

  They’d spent more nights together than apart since the pharma case, and she was already half undressed, wearing only a winter undershirt and leggings, but he didn’t want to take her for granted.

  “Yes.” She set her empty mug in the sink. “If the storm keeps up, we could send the samples to the lab by courier and work from here tomorrow.”

  Which meant she’d stay all day. He used to be annoyed by the storms that kept him cooped up with only the net and his treadmill for company. Now he looked forward to them, as long as she was there.

  “Good. I got groceries yesterday, so we won’t starve.” He finished the last of his hot chocolate, then put his mug in the sink next to hers. “That reminds me, Jerzi wants to borrow the kitchen next week. He wants to make meals in advance for when his fiancée and daughter arrive.”

  “Has he found a larger place to live yet?”

  “Not yet. He’s barely managing to do everything for the wedding.” Luka smiled, remembering Jerzi’s blind panic when he realized he had less than a month to plan a wedding and reception. The hazard pay from La Plata for their hybrid planet adventure made it possible for his family to afford to be together at last, and they were arriving in ten days. Fortunately, Beva Rienville and her large, boisterous, and generous family had stepped in to help and had things well in hand, meaning Jerzi could relax and start thinking about details.