by James Wilks
“I’d like to ask something,” Charis chimed in, looking at Evelyn. “Not that we’re not all thrilled, but how are you still alive? How did you get here?”
“I actually think that story starts with me,” Overton said, leaning back against the table. “I got to know Dinah when you were on Cronos Station. When was that, two months ago?”
“Just about,” Jang replied. “We arrived on Cronos Station on April fourth.”
“Anyway, I worked in communications on the station. Dinah searched me out and asked me to check on whether a ship had berthed here at Titan Prime. Ship was called the Doris Day, I think.” Staples nodded in confirmation. “I charged her a date for the information,” he added with a vague smile.
Staples found new respect for this man. Most people were intimidated just talking to Dinah; she couldn’t imagine asking the woman out for a romantic dinner.
“I think I see where this is going,” Charis said, then blushed slightly. Evelyn laughed aloud. “That’s not what I meant. I meant I can see what… oh, never mind. I’ll just shut up and let you tell it.”
Overton smiled briefly before continuing. “Thanks. Dinah told me about Evelyn here and said she might be in danger. Asked me to keep an eye on her. She also asked me to get her off the station if it looked like things were going south.”
“And something happened,” Staples prompted. It wasn’t a question.
“Well, after Dinah asked me to look into the Doris Day, I noticed when it berthed at Cronos Station. I thought it was weird that it would show up a few weeks after you left. Last I had seen it was headed back Sol-side. So I did some digging. They only stopped there for a day. They dropped one man off, then left.”
“Hmm,” Staples pondered as the situation became clearer. “And when you did some digging into him?”
“Former military, dishonorable discharge, no income for the past two years. He’d been living on Mars.”
“An assassin,” Jang said flatly.
“That’s what I thought,” Overton agreed.
“He saved my life,” Evelyn said with conviction.
Overton waved his hand back and forth for a second. “Maybe.”
“Any thrilling heroics? Did you hunt him down and end him?” Charis asked. Staples wondered if her husband had perhaps shown her a few too many movies.
“No, I removed the target from harm’s way. Best way to survive a confrontation is to avoid one. I grabbed Evelyn, explained who I was and the situation, and we chartered a flight over here. We’ve been living off our savings trying to figure out our next move ever since. She said that we should contact you, but I told her that would just bring trouble down on us, maybe you too.”
“Well, I think you were right about the first part. For our part, I don’t think we could be in any more trouble,” Staples said.
“We could not have Brutus,” Charis offered.
“That’s true,” the captain conceded. “His presence seems to be the only thing keeping Victor from blowing my ship out of the sky, though it obviously hasn’t stopped him from shooting holes in it and trying to kill us. It’s odd,” she said, turning to Evelyn, “why do you think Victor came after you? If he wanted you dead, why wait weeks to make a move?”
Evelyn’s face blushed a shade closer to her hair, and Overton sighed before speaking. “Because Ms. Schilling here is an amateur detective, and while she’s good at finding things out, she’s not so good at covering her tracks.”
“What did you find out that pushed Victor to hire Vey to fly an assassin all the way out here? Obviously not about Victor himself,” Staples said.
“No. I didn’t have any reason to suspect some shadowy rogue AI. I was investigating Libom, and that led me to some deals between them and Teletrans Corporation. Teletrans made operating systems for Cronos Station and a number of other places.”
“I’m sorry, how were you finding this out?” Charis asked.
Evelyn looked slightly offended. “Give me some credit. I’m not a hacker, but I am a computer scientist. I know how systems work, and I’m good at recognizing patterns.”
Staples thought about how the woman had discovered the faked broadcasts originating from the Doris Day. “Go on,” she said.
“Right. Well, when I looked into Teletrans, I discovered that they had gotten a secret contract with a company called Ferrile Electronics. Apparently they were to provide OS programming for future mining operations.” She paused for dramatic effect, and the room was silent.
Finally, Jang spoke. “So what? One computer company makes a deal with another. Happens every day. Why does it matter?”
Evelyn leaned forward, enjoying the moment. “Then why did they come after me when I found this out? And if it happens every day, then why was it secret?”
Late the next afternoon, after half the crew had slept part of the day, Jabir Iqbal punched the access code into Gringolet’s access hatch at the end of the berthing tubeway. Kojo Jang, his acting bodyguard for the outing he had just completed, stood behind him. As the door opened, the doctor turned to the end of the access tube and the burgeoning town of Titan Prime beyond. Two deputies, one male and one female, stood at the end of the ramp and regarded him passively.
He nodded at them and muttered maʿ al-salāmah at them by way of thanks, then entered the ship. He and Jang said their farewells, and Jabir crossed the shuttle bay to the primary elevator. Rather than take the mechanism up the two decks to Medical, he ascended the recessed ladder rungs built into the wall at the back of the bay. Less than a minute later he was on deck three and headed to Medical to check on Bethany. When he opened the door, he found that his patient was not alone.
Bethany Miller was sitting propped up in her bed. Though the doctor had yet to release her from his Medical bay, someone had smuggled her some clothing from her room. She wore a baggy black thermal shirt and dark pleated flannel pajama bottoms. Her hospital gown lay discarded on the foot of her bed. Her shirt was pulled up slightly, and the bandages that wrapped her midsection were visible. Sitting next to her on one of the retractable beds was Captain Staples, her chin-length blonde hair held in place by thin metal barrettes and her legs swinging lightly. Staples wore her usual grey flight slacks, and her grey jacket was unzipped, revealing a plain white tee underneath. The two women were smiling when he entered; he thought that it was both odd and refreshing to see the grin on the usually morose pilot’s face. He had the impression that he had interrupted something.
“Captain,” he nodded at her gravely, then turned to his patient. “Miss Miller.” He stepped fully into the room and approached them.
“Doctor,” his captain replied. “How is Don?”
“You’ll be happy to know that Mr. Templeton is convalescing well.” He picked up a nearby surface and pulled up Bethany’s vitals from the past hour.
“That does make me happy. Any idea when we can see him?” Staples asked.
“Tomorrow at the earliest, I should think. His attending physician, a Doctor Huang, was hesitant to allow me in.” Staples had sent Jabir specifically because she thought that as a doctor, albeit an unfamiliar one, he might have the greatest opportunity to learn about her first mate’s condition. “Mr. Templeton is extremely weak. The bullet cracked his sternum, nicked his right lung, and lodged in the back of his ribcage.” Staples winced involuntarily at the description while Bethany seemed to draw into herself a bit and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Perhaps we should continue this discussion outside,” Jabir offered to Staples, obviously in deference to the effect it might have on Bethany.
“No, it’s fine,” Bethany insisted, and forced herself to relax. Her arms fell to her sides again. Next to her on a small table sat an orchid from the hydroponics bay that someone had obviously smuggled in for her as well. Orchids were not a particularly efficient use of hydroponics on a spaceship; they provided no food and little oxygen recycling, but Bethany had taken to growing several species as side projects. Jabir was amazed she could keep
delicate plants like the orchid alive in space. Under different circumstances, he might have objected to the foreign biological matter in his sterile environment, but he could not see the harm at the moment. The only plant he normally kept in Medical was the dead one Staples had brought him a few months prior, and that sat sequestered in his darkened office at the end of the room.
“As you wish, but please tell me if you would prefer that we adjourn.” Bethany nodded at him. He took a breath and continued. “Mr. Templeton was in a critical state at first, but he is expected to recover.”
“I can’t help notice that you didn’t say ‘full recovery,’ Doctor,” Staples said with some concern.
“I’m afraid it’s too early to tell, but the chances are that the wound will affect him for the rest of his life. The truth is that most people who are shot or undergo severe physical trauma experience some chronic pain or discomfort. Movies would have us believe that bullets wounds are easily addressed through the judicious application of stitches and an alcoholic swab. Mr. Templeton’s health was not ideal to begin with, and I fear that this will have deleterious effects.” Normally discussion of a patient’s medical condition was of course subject to doctor-client privilege, but Templeton had made it clear over the past few years that his life was an open book, at least medically speaking.
Staples frowned. “When can we have him back? I don’t like having him off ship like this.”
Bethany’s eyes moved back and forth between them as they spoke.
“Likely not for several days. I believe that I have convinced Doctor Huang that I am in fact a capable physician, but she is reluctant to transfer him until he is more recovered. He was not conscious when I saw him. I did note with some relief that our altruistic Sheriff Glover has favored him with two deputies for protection, and they are there around the clock.”
“That is a relief, but I’d still rather have him back here where we can look after him.”
“As would I, Captain. Now, tell me, how are you feeling?” He put his surface down, evidently satisfied with the data he had looked over, and stepped forward to examine her face, taking in the scrape on her ear.
“Me?” she inquired with genuine surprise. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
The doctor adopted a slightly patronizing smile. “Someone did try to kill you. Twice, as you noted.”
“Twice?” Bethany interjected.
She turned to the young woman. “Well, not really. Someone apparently tried convince the sheriff to kill me while I was in custody. He didn’t bite.”
“Why do we keep saying ‘someone’?” Bethany asked. “We all know who we’re talking about. It’s Victor.”
Staples laughed mirthlessly. “You’re right. We should call it what it is. Anyway, I’m fine.” She gestured to her ear. “It’s just a scratch. And I might be a little shaken up, but unless you got your psychology degree in the last hour, I’ll keep my own counsel on that for now.”
“Tell me, do we have any idea how Victor is motivating these people? Or contacting them?”
Staples pursed her lips and shook her head. “I can’t speak to the second one. Anonymously, I think we can assume. The sheriff told me that he had been offered money, but the gunmen in the restaurant, I’m not so sure about.”
Something was obviously on Staples’ mind, so Jabir pressed. “How do you mean?”
“Well, they didn’t act like hired muscle. One, Titan Prime is a small town. There are just over five thousand people here. You can’t just walk into a restaurant, gun three people down, and expect to go hide. I can’t imagine how they thought they would get away with it. Money’s not much good if you’re languishing in jail.”
“Indeed, or worse.” Jabir’s comment alluded to the fact that several remote stations employed a rather abrupt form of justice. Resources such as food, air, and living space were at a premium, especially so far from Earth. Transportation back to the core system for incarceration was expensive and often impractical. When faced with a choice between sentencing a capital crime with life imprisonment or death, juries and magistrates tended to favor the latter, especially in cases of confession.
Staples nodded. “Or worse,” she agreed. “Even if they managed to hop a commercial flight Sol-side after the attack, it would be a simple matter for the sheriff to contact the ship and have them apprehended. Besides, there was one thing in particular that has been bothering me.”
She was silent a moment. Bethany stared at her expectantly as she mused, and finally Jabir said, “Please do share with the rest of us.”
Staples shook her head to clear it of her reverie. “The man who shot Don… he was trying to shoot me. Don stepped in the way.”
“Mr. Jang related to me his heroic efforts. I do think we should bake him a cake when he returns.”
The captain barked laughter, and Bethany laughed behind a hand that showed chipped black nail polish. “Well, I’m glad my life at least rates a cake for you, Doctor.” She grew serious again. “It was the situation that made no sense. The man’s shoulder had been dislocated. He was prone on the floor; their assassination attempt had obviously failed. He was young and healthy looking. At that point he was looking at attempted murder. Unquestionably his life was about to change for a good long time, but it wasn’t over. He could have been released in five or ten years and found work… built a life for himself. And yet he drew a gun and tried to kill me anyway.”
She was silent again for a moment, and Jabir was about to prompt her again when she continued. “He might have kept firing if Jang hadn’t killed him. I mean,” she shook her head and looked at the doctor, “if someone’s standing over you with a gun, you don’t pull out your own pistol and start firing at their friend. Not if you want to live.”
“Are you suggesting that this was some sort of suicide attempt?” Jabir asked. Though his question was genuine, the look on his face that indicated that he might have a theory of his own. He crossed to the medical equipment next to Bethany and entered a few commands.
“I’m suggesting that money isn’t enough to motivate someone to do that. They do something like that because they’re desperate or a believer.”
“I suppose either is possible, and I can find no fault with your analysis. Perhaps these gunmen – excuse me, gunpeople – were converts similar to how our mechanized friend Brutus has described Owen Burr and Mr. Stave. Perhaps they believed in the ascendancy and godhood of Victor,” Jabir conjectured. Bethany scooted down in her bed, grimaced in pain a bit, and began to look somewhat bored with the hypothetical nature of the conversation.
“Maybe. Hard to believe all the way out here, but maybe.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You have another theory, Doctor?”
“I do, but I fear that it’s premature. I’d like to collect more data before-”
“Out with it,” Staples interrupted him. “This is no time to be coy.”
Jabir affixed her with a scolding gaze. “I am many things, Captain, but coy is not one of them. I’d like to conduct more research, but if you insist, I will share with you what I believe. Please be forewarned that this is not based on hard science and thus should not-”
She interrupted him again. “I understand.”
“Very well.” He crossed by her, entered his office, and emerged a moment later with a different surface. “I’ve been examining the lab and toxicology results from Mr. Laplace’s autopsy as well as the sample fluid I extracted from the sacs that were surgically implanted in Ms. Schilling’s genitalia.” At this last word, Bethany blushed.
“I remember,” Staples said. “Your conclusion was that sex with Evelyn had resulted in Laplace being injected with enough potassium chloride to cause a heart attack.”
“The man did have a medical history of heart problems. What I could not reason, however, is how enough potassium chloride could be administered in this fashion. Not only would it take a very large dose to be sure of causing the desired effect, but quite frankly, the injection of that much potassium ch
loride under the skin would cause a severe amount of pain that no amount of endorphins could mask.”
“In other words-”
“It should have hurt like hell.”
“You’d think Evelyn would have mentioned it if he had run away from her screaming.” Staples twisted her lips in thought.
“Indeed. So I’ve been running tests on the fluid and trying to match it to lab results from the autopsy.”
“Don’t pussyfoot around, Doctor. Just tell me your conclusions.” Staples was evidently becoming frustrated, and Bethany was sliding closer and closer to sleep, though the discussion of Evelyn had revived her some.
“My preliminary conclusions, then. I’m neither a robotics expert nor a bio-mechanical engineer, but I believe that the sacs surgically implanted in Evelyn contained nanites.”
“Those sound cute,” Bethany said dreamily. Staples eyed her briefly, then realized that the doctor had started a morphine drip a few minutes earlier. Her pilot was on her way to a long and deep sleep.
She turned her attention back to Jabir. “Nanites. Microscopic robots? That’s a little farfetched, even for our lives lately.”
“They needn’t be that complex, Captain. Think of them like tiny catalysts, ones that work to create a new molecule from scavenged local ingredients, then shut down. I have read a few medical journals on the subject; I believe that clinical trials have recently begun. If there were nanites in the fluid, they since have broken down, but that does not mean that they were not there. There are anomalies that I am still trying to quantify.”
“Huh,” she considered it. “So rather than inject Laplace with sodium chloride, which is problematic, uncertain, and painful, he gets injected with these things. Once in his body, they get to work making potassium chloride, then dissolve and become undetectable.”
“That is my working theory, though it is far from conclusive.”
“All right, I can see that. I can also see that, of any sentient creature in this solar system, Victor is more likely to have access to or the ability to build something like that. But what is the connection to our would-be assassins?” she inquired.
