by John Corwin
He'd given her a dead man's house.
Chapter 16
Traces of Joseph Britain, the murdered labcoat, lingered in this place. Scarlett wondered if this was a cruel joke or if Simmons wanted her to look for clues. Since he'd explicitly said he didn't care who actually murdered the lab coat, Scarlett reckoned the investigator was having a good laugh at her expense.
Scarlett narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. Simmons might find this funny, but he'd actually done her a favor whether he meant to or not. She unzipped the toughsuit and dropped it to the floor, glad to be rid of the bulky weight and bad smells. She folded the badge up in the toughsuit so Simmons wouldn't be able to hear or see her.
A methodical search of the premises began in the foyer. She checked the pockets of the hanging lab coats and found a data pearl inside the pocket of the third one. She rolled it around in her hand, wondering if the surveillance device contained a treasure trove of information she would never unlock without Simmons's help.
The pearl went into her pocket for the time being and the search continued. In the family room, she found a video screen mounted on the wall. It was huge by her standards, but only a quarter the size of the ones used to display executions. The white dot on the bottom corner activated the unit. It flickered on and a list appeared. They looked like book titles, but if so, Scarlett had never heard of them. She touched one labeled Beethoven –9th Symphony.
It started softly, a lover whispering in her ear, swelling into harmonies unlike anything she'd ever heard. The sounds filled the room and vibrated her very soul. She stood in shock, tears pooling in her eyes. Tingles raced across her skin, making her knees weak and dropping her into a chair. Scarlett felt years younger, a girl experiencing her first moment of true happiness.
She closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her.
Nathan jumped around the tree and grabbed Scarlett. "Found you!"
She giggled. "How did you know?"
He coiled a strand of her red hair around a finger. "You're not a person who hides well, silly. This bright hair stands out."
"I like finding better than hiding," she said, and hugged him. "This is the most fun I've ever had. If I could have a brother, I'd wish him to be you."
Nathan grinned. "We're just freezer babies, but I'll always count you as my little sister."
A tear warmed her eye.
"Why are you crying?" Nathan asked, alarmed. "I didn't even pull your hair!"
Scarlett gripped his hand. "Because I'm so happy."
For a brief moment, the cold emptiness in Scarlett's soul felt a flash of heat, as if some remnant of her dead brother still remained in this terrible world. The music crashed around her ears and she couldn't take it anymore. Stabbing a finger at the large screen, she shut off the music and dropped to the floor. The void swelled, taking advantage of her weakness.
"Damn you, Max!" Scarlett pounded her fists on the couch and buried her face in the cushions. "I'm just like you now." Sobs tore at her. The people she'd sworn to never serve had claimed her. Where was her stubborn pride now? How could she save anyone? Had she doomed a good man to die because of blind hatred?
Scarlett didn't want to answer the question. Just asking it clawed at her soul and made her out to be the villain she'd seen in Max.
If only the people would rise up. If only the civvies could fight the administration. If only—if only. Simmons had shown her just how impossible the task. The science marshals were too well equipped with armored vehicles and weapons. A civvie uprising would be quashed in an instant. Central was already like one big jail cell, but Alderman would be certain to reinforce that notion if he had to put down a revolt.
Looking at her few options, Scarlett saw only futility. If she succeeded in finding the rebels, Alderman might let her live, but she'd be viewed as their pet deputy. She would truly be the new Max.
I already am.
Was this how Max felt day in and day out, secretly helping civvies one day, forced to kill them the next? Had the insatiable sadness of losing his parents consumed him like the loss of Nathan ate at Scarlett?
"No!" Scarlett pounded the wooden floor with a fist. "I'm not Max! I can do better!" So far, her stubborn pride had done far worse.
Scarlett had never known all the secret ways Max helped the people. The only time she'd caught him had been the last. One of the mechworks people had found the hidden toughsuit while doing airlock maintenance just as Scarlett walked inside.
The worker had quickly tucked it back inside the wall and Scarlett pretended not to see it. The setup couldn't have been more perfect if she'd staged it herself, so she told Administrator Barnes the minute she saw him.
The question remained: Why hide a toughsuit in the airlock? She thought back to her earlier conversation with Olga. The toughsuit wasn't airtight without extra modifications. Even then, what had Sarah planned to do with her extra time on the surface?
Though Simmons hadn't released any information about Sarah's treason, it was possible she'd found information about surviving on the planet surface. Maybe there was something out past the dunes the administration didn't want anyone to know about. The more Scarlett thought about it, the more plausible the explanation seemed.
It still didn't change things on the inside.
Scarlett collected herself and resumed searching the house. The furnishings prolonged the process since there were more nooks to search. She removed drawers from furniture, dug through the pockets of all the clothes. Joseph wasn't a large man, and Scarlett discovered that his shirts and pants actually fit her rather well. She exchanged her sweaty black deputy uniform for a gray shirt and slacks and tossed the uniform atop the toughsuit. Wearing gray made her feel a little strange, but judging from the colorful clothes in the closet and drawers, scientists could wear whatever they wanted.
Next, she lifted the mattress off the bed and even searched it for cuts in case something was hidden inside it and looked beneath the frame in case something was taped to it. By the time she finished searching, it was evident that either everything useful was gone, or Britain had left nothing behind.
The data pearl was the only thing remaining, but she had no way of accessing any information stored on it. She returned to the den, the last place left to search, and pulled the cushions off the chairs. Unzipping each one and digging through the foam inside revealed nothing. She turned the couch upside down and ran her fingers along all the edges, but found only dust and a few dead bugs.
The last object was the video screen. The unit itself was incredibly thin. Scarlett tugged on a corner and gasped when it peeled from the wall and rolled up like paper. The few computer monitors she'd seen in Central were small but bulky. Even the epads were thicker than this device. She unrolled it on the floor and it adhered into place though its backing didn't feel sticky. Flipping it upside down, she flattened it on the floor and examined the gray material.
It felt slick as oil to the touch even though it stuck to just about anything she pressed it to. Scarlett realized she'd just have to accept this and move on. Science Division tech was far more advanced than anything the civvies would ever see.
As she lifted the monitor and spread it between her hands, she noticed a small curved notch in the side. It looked far too neat to be a defect or accidental damage. Scarlett pressed the monitor to the wall then ran a finger in the notch. The monitor didn't activate or do anything else when she touched that spot. If she pressed the white dot in the lower corner, it displayed the list of music.
Tempted as she was to listen to more, she turned back to the notch and tried touching it again. Nothing changed on the display.
Scarlett blew out a breath and stepped back. Maybe all the displays like this had a notch. It seemed she'd reached the end of the search and found nothing. The only thing left to do was go back to town and try to find Daryl Smith for questioning without the insurgents finding her first.
She grabbed the bladewheel and took it outside, then remembered she'd
left her badge inside and turned around.
"Who are you?" A woman standing in the neighboring yard set down a small potted flower and walked over to the white picket fence.
"I'm Scarlett Flynn." Joseph's outfit apparently disguised her true nature. She decided it best not to reveal herself as a civvie and hoped the woman would assume she was a lab coat. "I'm new."
The woman's frown faded. "Where is Joseph?"
"Oh, you haven't heard?" Scarlett pressed a hand to her chest and assumed a sad expression. "He died in an accident."
"How awful!" The woman gripped the fence as if to support herself. "He was doing such important work, too."
"Oh? What kind of work?"
"I'm sorry." The woman held out a hand. "I'm Melissa Evans, from the population control sector."
Scarlett gripped the hand and shook it. "Nice to meet you Melissa, though I wish it was on better terms."
Melissa's gaze grew unfocused after she released Scarlett's hand.
Scarlett waited a moment, then prompted the woman again. "Can you tell me what kind of work he did?"
The other woman flinched. "Sorry, I was just thinking back to the last time I talked with him." Her head turned toward the house. "He was usually a very cheerful person, but lately he seemed a bit worried and detached."
Scarlett felt her pulse quicken. Back in the windowless concrete warrant of Central, most neighbors couldn't see what their neighbors were up to. Here in this wonderland, the houses all had windows. That meant it was possible Melissa had seen something.
Melissa gripped the top of the fence. "Scarlett, did you work with Joseph?"
"No. I was taken off my regular duties to assist Investigator Simmons by looking into Joseph's death."
The other woman's forehead creased. "But you said it was an accident."
"Yes, but there are some questions about how the accident happened." Scarlett pursed her lips and waited a moment. "You see, he died in the brassworks."
Melissa gasped. "What was he doing in there?"
"That's what I want to find out. Did he ever speak of going to the brassworks?"
"Who would ever want to go down there, much less"—she shuddered—"into Central with all those rough workers."
Scarlett's cheeks heated, but she let the comment slide. "What sector did Joseph work in?"
A wan smiled touched her lips. "We used to joke that his sector was the real population control."
"As in controlling the growth of the population, right?"
She nodded. "My sector monitors the population and injects new personnel as needed based on gender and the roles we need fulfilled." Melissa frowned. "If you're working with Simmons, you'd know this already."
It seemed Scarlett didn't know enough to pass as a lab coat, so she chose the next best thing. "I'm working with Simmons, but I'm not a scientist."
The other woman's eyes widened. "Y-you're not a scientist?"
"I'm with the security sector."
Melissa relaxed. "Oh, I didn't realize the marshals did investigative work."
"They don't normally, but this is a special case."
The scientist looked back at Joseph's house and nodded. "I suppose it is."
Scarlett tried to reign in her impatience. "Now, will you please tell me what sector Joseph worked in?"
"Oh, sorry. He worked under Administrator Barnes in the population regulation sector."
"Explain what that is."
"Well, they study the general mood of the populace and regulate it." Melissa tapped a finger to her chin. "They monitor the mood of the mob in relation to various stimuli and create computer models to simulate long-term effects and avoid blight conditions that could cause evolutionary reversals."
An icy hand gripped Scarlett's heart. "They can directly control the mob?" Mob was an ugly-sounding term, but the scientists obviously didn't think much of the civvies.
The scientist smiled and shook her head. "No, I don't think directly controlling them is possible without significant investment in wetware."
Scarlett wasn't sure what wetware meant, but took comfort in knowing they couldn't just mind-control the population. Even so, it sounded like the civvies were little more than sheep, whether being herded to the slaughterhouse or a peaceful pasture, not even the shepherds knew. Thankfully, Scarlett had illegally read enough books to sound more informed than she was. "In other words, the population regulation sector charts cause and effect to predict how the populace will respond."
Melissa raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Precisely."
With that question finally answered, it was time to press for more information. "Did Joseph have many visitors over the last month?"
"Not that I'm aware of." The scientist looked up and bit her lip. "A week ago, I was washing clothes in the laundry room. That window looks out toward his kitchen." She motioned toward the deceased's house. "I saw him arguing with someone."
"Did you see the other person enter the house?"
She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I should have specified that he was holding a tablet computer and gesticulating with his hand in a very agitated manner." Melissa frowned. "I'm certain he was video conferencing with someone."
Scarlett assumed by "tablet computer" she meant "epad". It figured the scientists would use two long words in the place of a short one if they could. "Did you see him yesterday or today?"
"Sure did. Both mornings he got on his bike and pedaled to work." She peeled off a glove and scratched her rib. "Joseph always left about fifteen minutes earlier than me."
"When was the last time you spoke with him?"
"A week ago." Melissa took off the other glove and dropped them next to the potted plant. "He looked really tired and worried. When I asked him what was wrong, he just said he was under a lot of pressure at work."
Scarlett pressed for more. "Anything else? Anything at all?"
The scientist's brow pinched. "He murmured something when he turned away from me. It sounded like he said something about a plank, but I don't know what lumber has to do with anything."
Scarlett was certain Joseph had said Planck. If that had been a week ago, did it mean Sarah had committed her treason against the administration that long ago, or had her execution been planned even before that?
Something beeped and Melissa looked at a touchscreen on her wrist. "Oh, I need to check the oven." She hesitated. "If you have more questions, you're welcome to come inside."
"Sure." Scarlett was curious to have a peek inside the woman's home if for no other reason than to see if Melissa lived as opulently as Joseph had. She walked around the fence and followed the scientist.
"You can wait in the den if you'd like," Melissa said before scurrying down the hall.
The den looked identical to Joseph's aside from the light yellow hue of the wall, and the color of the curtains—a rarity in windowless Central. Scarlett activated the video screen and the same list of music she'd seen on Joseph's appeared.
"Wish they'd give us more variety," Melissa said from the doorway.
Scarlett very nearly told her she should be damned grateful because the civvies didn't have anything like this. Instead, she smiled and nodded. "Security sector doesn't get anything this nice." She walked over the screen and pointed to the small curved notch in the side. "What's this for?"
"Data pearls," Melissa said. "Don't you use those all the time in security?"
Two puzzle pieces clicked neatly together and Scarlett realized she might have all the answers she wanted in her pocket.
Chapter 17
Scarlett realized the other woman was waiting on an answer. "Our equipment isn't this nice."
"Oh, I see." Melissa tapped a foot expectantly. "So, can you tell me more about Joseph's death? I've never been to the other side, but I've heard it's really nasty out there."
Scarlett bit her tongue to keep it from lashing out. Things were nasty, but only because these people lived high off the backs of the workers. "Unfortunately, I can't comment on the inv
estigation, Melissa." She stepped around the other woman. "If you think of anything else, please let me know."
The scientist looked glum, but nodded. "I certainly will."
Scarlett did her best not to run down the sidewalk and around the fence back to Joseph's house. Once inside, she pressed the video screen back to the wall and took out the data pearl she'd found in the lab coat. The gray bead looked just the right size to fit in the notch. Her fingers trembled as she imagined what might be on the pearl, but she just as quickly realized it could contain absolutely nothing.
The bead clicked into the notch and stayed. The screen came on and a new list appeared. The numbers didn't make sense at first until Scarlett realized they were date stamps like the ones they used when processing someone into a holding cell. She reached toward the first one but noticed an eye icon at the top. She touched it, thinking it might take her to videos. Instead, a menu dropped down with view options.
Scarlett touched the one labeled Details and more information appeared next to the date stamps.
Research log 022201
Research log 030501
Research log 031501
The list continued for several months, from Secondas all the way to the current month of Quintas, but the last file had no label, only a time stamp. Scarlett wiped her clammy hands on the gray slacks, then reached out and touched the last item in the list.
The face of a dead man appeared on the screen. "This is Joseph Britain, lead scientist for population regulation. While I have always supported Administrator Barnes's approach to variable testing, I believe he is going too far with the latest round of probes. I don't want to get anyone in trouble, but I would feel more comfortable if this was reviewed by Gavin Kearns, or even Governor Alderman himself. For that reason, I want to document my disagreement." He cleared his throat nervously. "Here goes."
