The Falls [05 Diving Universe] 2016

by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

  An opaque wall, with warnings written in more languages than she could read, faced her. The warnings told her this place was restricted and unless she had reasons for being here, she should leave.

  She walked up to the door, stated her name and her position, then said she needed to discuss an employee. Part of the opaque wall slid back, revealing an even more cavernous space before her. It, however, was mostly light. There were skylights in the ceiling, although she doubted they actually showed the real sky. The light seemed like sunlight, though.

  The floor was a reflective white, but the walls were made of black nanobits. She’d recognize that substance anywhere. Six short desks huddled near each other—three on the left side of the entry and three on the right. Each had a floating sign identifying the function of the desk.

  She went to the desk with the word Security above it, even though a woman behind the desk with the words Employment Matters stood as Bassima went by, apparently thinking she would be coming there.

  The man behind the Security desk didn’t look happy to see her. Bassima understood why. He had once applied for a job at Sandoveil’s Security Office, and she had convinced Loraas to turn him down.

  Dwight Wilson was a groper, or at least, he had been when he and Bassima were in school together. He had grabbed her ass more times than she wanted to think about, and each time, she had either complained, shoved him back, or hit him in the stomach with her elbow.

  She was rather surprised that he had gotten a job here. But maybe there was nothing about his proclivities on the record.

  Or maybe he outgrew them, although she doubted that was likely. He was probably just more circumspect about his victims.

  His lips twisted into a half grimace.

  “Never thought I’d see you here, Beck,” he said.

  “Likewise,” she said.

  “We don’t need any new security officers,” he said, “although I’m not supposed to tell you that. You’re supposed to go to the employment desk to inquire about working here.”

  His words were easy for her to hear, but the unique design of the room made them fade only a few feet away. She remembered that from an earlier visit as well.

  That was why there were seating groups farther in, where people were having intense conversations, and some clusters of employees looking around as if they were seeing the place for the first time.

  She had no idea what they were doing, but they all acted as if their missions were important.

  “Well, good thing I’m talking to you, then,” she said, even though she hated to use the word “good” and “you” in the same sentence when dealing with Dwight. “I need to inquire about an employee. I need to know, discreetly, if she came in to work today.”

  “Discreetly,” he repeated. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “It means I don’t want her to know that I’m asking about her. This is a security matter, and if she’s here, I’ll need to partner with the base.”

  His twisted expression eased, and he called up a holographic screen with an opaque back. She couldn’t see what he was looking at unless she actually tried to peer around it, which she would never do.

  He was all business, which she was grateful for and surprised by.

  “Let me be clear,” he said. “You’re here in your capacity as an officer for the Sandoveil Security Office.”

  “Yes,” she said, glad he had asked it that way. He had already called up the screen, which probably meant that he was recording their interaction. Which was also good.

  “All right,” he said. “The name of the employee?”

  “Glida Kimura,” Bassima said. “Her car has been here for days, but I see no evidence that she’s left the premises. If you could—”

  He held up a finger, stopping her from speaking, a frown creasing his forehead. “Glida Kimura,” he repeated. He sounded very serious.

  “Yes,” Beck said.

  “And this is connected to something outside of the base?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. She wasn’t going to go into detail here.

  His skin had gone gray. She’d never seen anything quite like it.

  He looked up at Bassima and, if she had to guess, she would have guessed that he looked frightened.

  “If you don’t mind sitting over there…?” He nodded toward a seating arrangement near the wall that she hadn’t seen when she came in. The long gray couch looked as if no one had ever sat on it before, and the table in front of it was a shiny black.

  “Problem?” she asked, not moving.

  “Please, just…sit. Okay? Someone will be with you in a minute.” He was being polite and freaked out, two things she never would have expected from Dwight.

  “All right,” she said and wandered, slowly, to the couch. She made sure she walked at an angle, so she could see what Dwight was doing.

  He was tapping screens—two of them at least—and then he’d bow his head as if he was talking to someone. Twice he shook his head, clearly worried. Once he glanced over at her.

  She sank onto the couch, which was as uncomfortable as it looked. There was no give in the fabric. Maybe some brain-dead designer had thought that making a couch out of nanobits was a good idea—if this couch actually was made of nanobits. It probably wasn’t. It just felt that way.

  Dwight continued his comparisons of the screens, occasionally talking to someone, even gesturing once, although he didn’t appear to be on a video conference. He was upset. And he kept glancing at her as if he expected her to run—or maybe level more accusations at him, or something.

  Then she realized she wasn’t being fair. He had treated her well since she came in here, and she had clearly upset him. Something was up with Glida Kimura, something important enough that a lower level flunky like Dwight knew enough to be freaked out.

  Bassima leaned back on the couch, feeling the hard cushion dig into the small of her back. As she did so, she realized it was good that the couch was uncomfortable. She was tired enough to sleep despite Dwight’s floor show.

  She folded her hands together, watched Dwight flap around, and hoped that with all his consternation, he wasn’t tipping off Glida Kimura.

  Because Bassima needed the element of surprise. The last thing she wanted was for Glida Kimura to escape.

  FORTY-FIVE

  IN THE END, Hranek decided not to bring any other members of his team to the pool behind Fiskett Falls. If this were a normal day and a normal case, he would bring half his staff. Partly, he’d want to train them, and partly, he would want their assistance.

  But this was not a normal day, and his best people were already working on the two deaths he knew about—figuring out what happened to Taji Kimura’s body, and dealing with the body that YSR-SR had already pulled out of this pool.

  Part of him wished he could be with Bassima Beck at the sector base. He wanted to catch Glida Kimura after watching her shadow on the environmental system in her wife’s office.

  Sometimes arresting the bastards was as satisfying as finding the evidence that would put them away. But he was too busy to indulge, at least today.

  And he was running late.

  The sun was already peeking over the mountains as he pulled the van into an unsanctioned parking area near Fiskett Falls. Several vehicles were already parked here, a few haphazardly, equipment scattered, and impressions on the dirt that showed where a body bag had been.

  A body bag and several footprints. Death scene contamination already. And Marnie Sar wondered why he wanted to be here.

  The YSR-SR never paid attention to death scene protocol. They were always concerned with information or lives or rescue—even when they knew (as they had here) that rescue wasn’t possible.

  He stepped out of his van, grabbing his kit as he did so. The Falls sounded louder here than anywhere else. The ground vibrated beneath his feet, something that he knew he would get used to as the morning went on. The air was filled with spray—just enough to remind him that the Falls were nea
rby, but not enough to get him wet. At least, not right away.

  Ardelia Novoa stood at the beginning of the path that led behind the Falls. Her arms were crossed. Half of the white diving suit covered her legs. The remainder of the suit toppled back over her bottom like a coat tied around the waist.

  Two towels wrapped around her neck, covering her torso. For a moment, he worried that she wasn’t wearing anything else on top, despite the cold. As she stepped forward, though, he realized that she was wearing some kind of black sleeveless thing.

  “I was about to give up on you,” she said in a tone that let him know she wished he hadn’t shown up. “You’re late.”

  “Yeah.” He would have apologized if she hadn’t used that tone on him. Instead, he let his annoyance out. “I had to deal with a body that no one followed procedure on.”

  “Wow,” she said. “You really are something, you know that?”

  “I’m the one who is supposed to be in charge of death scenes,” he said. “You should be following my procedure, and if I’m six hours late, then I’m six hours late.”

  “If you were six hours late, the body would be at the examiner’s office and maybe someone would be working on it.” She peered around him, her movement exaggerated. “I thought you were bringing a team.”

  “It seems we’ve had a mini-crime spree,” he said. “My team is busy, but I’m here.”

  “Crime spree? Besides these two bodies?” Novoa asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, and did not elaborate. What was going on in his office was none of her business.

  “Good lord,” she said. “What’s happening in Sandoveil?”

  He wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical or not, so he chose to take it that way.

  “You said we’re running late. So let’s get moving,” he said.

  She raised her eyebrows as if she found his determination to go forward annoying.

  “When was the last time you were behind the Falls?” she asked.

  His patience was nearly gone. “I don’t know.”

  “Then there are procedures to review,” she said, blocking his way.

  “Procedures be damned,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  She glared at him. “You’re here because you insist on procedures. Have you changed your mind about that?”

  Anger surged through him. “Let me remind you that you’re a volunteer,” he said. “I work for the city of Sandoveil. I need to get to that site for my job—”

  “And I need to make sure you get there alive.”

  “Then watch me,” he said. “Because I’m going there without you.”

  He walked around her and hoped he remembered how to open the barrier that let him into the area behind the Falls.

  She struggled to keep up, then passed him, reaching the barrier first. She didn’t say another word, and he wondered if she had just provoked him to get him on record denying that he needed to review procedure.

  He supposed the YSR-SR was doing that to cover its ass. He couldn’t believe someone would do that to undercut him, although that little interchange would have done it.

  She stood in front of the barrier and pressed, and poked, and did a few other things that he really didn’t pay attention to, now that she was doing her job again. The barrier came down, and the black path appeared in all its nanobit glory, just like it used to be before the city realized how much money it was spending on rescuing tourists (alive and dead) who felt trapped behind the Falls.

  The Falls were loud enough here that he could barely hear himself breathe. The air was filled with droplets. The water fell like a sheet to his right, and the ground had stopped vibrating under his feet. Now it bounced.

  Novoa kept pace with him until the path narrowed and then he went first, picking his way over the surface, which was a little too slick for him.

  And then, just almost like a surprise, he was on the other side of the Falls. The pool area, with its shallow outcropping, spread before him, and the water looked deceptively calm.

  Marnie Sar stood near the entrance. Tevin Egbe wore all of his diving suit except his hood. He had an equipment bag over his shoulder. A woman stood near him. As Hranek arrived, she had pulled a hood over her face. The skin of her long hands was dark brown against the white of her suit.

  She was tall and athletic, but most of the people who worked for the YSR-SR were both tall and athletic. Tevin Egbe was.

  He glared at Hranek.

  “Can we proceed now?” Tevin asked, his voice filled with sarcasm. “Or should we wait until the daylight reaches this little area?”

  The daylight probably wouldn’t reach the area in any effective way for hours yet. It was lighter here than it had probably been two hours ago, but it still looked more like twilight than daylight.

  “I want to see what you have on the body first,” Hranek said. “Where is it exactly?”

  Tevin’s jaw tightened. He looked like a man about to explode. Apparently his patience was gone too. And didn’t he need patience to dive?

  “We’ve reviewed the footage,” Tevin said. “We know where the body is. We have told you what we saw. And we know how to recover a body. I don’t need you second-guessing what we’re going to do. You’re here as a courtesy.”

  “Tevin,” Marnie said.

  “He’s right,” Novoa said.

  “I am here to make sure procedure gets followed,” Hranek said. “From your earlier report, we have a murder victim here, is that right?”

  “Someone piled rocks on her and someone put her here,” Tevin said. “I have no idea if she drowned here or if she was killed elsewhere, but this is definitely a death scene.”

  “All right then,” Hranek said. “We’ll get me set up on your comm and then you’ll dive. I want the evidence removed in a particular way.”

  “You want us to keep the rocks?” the woman asked.

  He hadn’t thought of that. He was tired, and glad they had misunderstood him.

  “Yes,” he said. “In case one of them is the murder weapon.”

  Tevin rolled his eyes. “We’re not doing that. We only have so much air time. We’re going to bring you what we can—”

  “We’ll make a holographic representation,” Marnie said. “That will work.”

  “No,” Hranek said. “You will bring me the rocks, at least the ones small enough that a human being could use them as a weapon.”

  “Oh, well, that’s so much better,” said the woman in the suit.

  He couldn’t deal with this team much longer. He turned to Marnie. They were her people: She could corral them.

  “Two bodies in this pool,” he said. “One misidentified and mishandled by your people. That body, by the way, belongs to a tourist from Ynchi City. You can bet that her people will want a thorough investigation, which your people have already mucked up. So, you will do this my way or we will bring in another team who will. Or, if you prefer, we’ll bring in a team from Ynchi City who understands procedure.”

  It was a bluff.

  “Calm down, Mushtaq,” Marnie said. “They’ll bring your rocks and anything else they find.”

  “They don’t get to determine what to bring me,” he said. “I determine it. From here.”

  Tevin actually turned away as if this discussion was disturbing him. Novoa had her arms crossed again, and the woman who was already suited up shook her head slightly.

  They seemed to think Hranek was being unreasonable, but he wasn’t. They didn’t know that he suspected Glida Kimura of orchestrating at least two deaths in the past week. He wanted to make certain she got punished for them.

  “I know.” Marnie patted her hand on Hranek’s arm in an apparent attempt to placate him.

  It took all of his strength not to wrench his arm away. He didn’t want to seem that childish.

  “You get to make all of the final decisions,” she said. “That’s why you’ll be viewing the footage in real time.”

  “Which you could have done from your office,” someone
muttered.

  He couldn’t tell who had said that, or whether the voice was male or female. He didn’t respond, because they wanted him to respond. Everyone seemed to be on edge.

  But if he had responded, he would have said that of course he could have monitored all of it from his office. He just couldn’t have influenced it. Here he would tell Marnie what he needed or tell Tevin directly, and if they didn’t do it, he would push and push and push until someone did it.

  He would even get them back in the water if need be.

  His death scene. His responsibility.

  He looked at all of them—Tevin with his jaw working as if he was chewing on something bad; the other diver, who kept shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing; Novoa, who was pacing, and Marnie, who still held her hand near his arm, as if she were trying to stop him from doing something.

  “Well,” he said coldly. “Should we get started?”

  His words hung in the damp air for a moment, and then Tevin let out a sound of disgust. The other diver put her hand on his arm—the exact same gesture that Marnie had tried to use with Hranek—and Tevin shook his head.

  Marnie watched that as well, but her expression remained impassive as she turned toward Hranek.

  “We’ll get underway in a minute,” she said. “Please, step back. If you need to do some setup, now is the time.”

  She wanted him out of the way. Apparently, he was irritating the team. Poor things. They couldn’t take true instruction.

  Hranek walked toward the stone walls that led up the mountainside. As he had predicted, the sound of the Falls had become background. But the ground kept vibrating, which he knew would throw off his equipment.

  While they calmed themselves in preparation to do their jobs, he walked around the area, looking up, then peering at the pathway, then looking up again.

  Bodies landing here weren’t that unusual. He’d cleaned up more than his fair share of them. But he had never dealt with one covered in rocks before. Deliberately weighted down. Or the rocks placed on top of them somehow.