The Gun Golems (Approaching Infinity Book 2)

by Chris Eisenlauer

  “Of course. Anything I can do.”

  “Thank you, Director. We’ll be in touch.” They shook hands and Karr politely took his leave.

  Barson was already gone. Jav clapped his hand on Elza’s shoulder. “Let’s go, Elza. These two have things to do that don’t include us.”

  Elza made a noise of mock protest as Jav pushed her out of the lobby.

  “You two have fun.” Jav looked back over his shoulder at the dark and brooding Brin. “And try not to get distracted.”

  After they were gone, Ren turned to Brin. “You’ve been standing there quietly for some time now. Is there something I can do for you?”

  “No.”

  “No? Are you sure?”

  She stood where she was, tightening her folded arms and working her frown into a sneer. “I was just curious to see what and how long it would take. I’m not impressed.”

  Ren shook his head, chuckling tiredly. “I’ve given up trying to understand you, but you never disappoint, do you? You just stand there and keep doing what you’re doing. We’ll leave you to your bent little thoughts.

  “Esparza!” he shouted.

  “Sir!”

  “I’ll be back early tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Ren turned and took Lara by the hand, apologizing as he led her out.

  18. BAD DAY

  10,688.303.0735

  Everyone stared in disbelief. The docking bay was a shambles, strewn with the remains of the butchered Grans. Carved and hacked portions still somewhat recognizable didn’t bleed exactly, but seeped an awful equivalent of blood that bubbled and crept along the floor and down the walls.

  Parts of Gran Zaim clung to the ceiling, but the moisture seals that kept them there were weakening and several were threatening to fall. Viscous streams dribbled down dangling knotty cords and cables, pattering to the floor and providing a bleak, alien music.

  Gran Kwes was scattered everywhere throughout the docking bay, tumbled cubes turned gray, some no more than hollow skins of ash, still others turned to gelatin, unable to maintain ninety degree angles and sagging with a sick, oily sheen. Its head lay on the floor, now little more than a dark, wet stain.

  Though least resembling anything alive among the Grans, Gran Kohm was perhaps the worst to behold. Great sections had been cut away and looked very much like a butcher’s output on a busy day, though on a much larger scale and from a breed truly unique. Gran Kohm’s insides were bright red and its internal supports were shiny white. Carnage was not new to any of them, and certainly not to Tia Winn. She didn’t have a weak stomach, but she vomited just the same the instant she realized she was looking at her own Gran. Only Brin attempted to comfort her.

  Barson and Abanastar slowly moved to examine the remains of their Grans in silence.

  Ren spoke to the members of the Death Squad who stood with him and to whoever else was listening. “The maintenance crew found the Grans like this this morning. You can see that the restraining bolts are still attached, so no alarms were set off.” He took a deep breath. “It’s been almost exactly three months since we discovered Professor Cranden’s remains and—”

  “And we have nothing to show for our investigative efforts, do we, Director Fauer?” Witchlan had entered the docking bay. Ren and the others turned to acknowledge him then followed him with their eyes as he walked into the spread of waste the Grans had become.

  “No, Minister, we don’t.”

  “And do you know what makes today significant? Any of you?”

  “Yes, Minister,” Ren said. “As of today, we are effectively cut off from the rest of the Empire. Alone and unable to request or receive aid.”

  “That’s right. That would make this,” Witchlan waved his arm to indicate the Grans, “seem rather calculated, wouldn’t it? If only to punctuate the fact that we’re cut off.”

  Ren bowed his head and nodded. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

  Witchlan sighed and stared at the destruction for a moment. “What do we have hiding in our midst?” he mused. He turned to Ren. “Unofficially, we know that you have done everything possible to uncover whoever is responsible for Professor Cranden’s death and that we are dealing with a power of unknown scale. Officially, however, you must step up your efforts, especially in light of this new affront. We see more games ahead, and while this indicates an advance towards a tangible conclusion, we want to be able to shape that conclusion our way.” He shouted now, addressing everyone present, “All of you are to assist Director Fauer in any way he requests. Let no detail go unnoticed, no possibility ignored, no theory untested.

  “Has Director Scanlan’s team been informed?” Witchlan asked Ren.

  “Yes, Minister. They should be on their way.”

  “What about your object readers?”

  “I’m hesitant to use them, Minister,” Ren said.

  “Why?”

  “Of the two who worked the 48Q1 jump deck, one is still in the hospital in a coma, the other has been having trouble with short-term memory and is currently on medical leave.”

  “Nothing can be done about the coma patient, but I want your medical leave reader and your healthy reader here in the next ten minutes. Also, Director Karr is an excellent object reader with years of experience. If the task is beyond the abilities of your employees, perhaps he can help. I will summon him here myself.”

  “Yes, Minister Witchlan.”

  Witchlan joined Kalkin who had broken away from the others and was now kneeling down beside the after-image of Gran Kwes’s head that messed the floor.

  Ren pulled a radio from within his long black coat and spoke into it, “Esparza.”

  “Yes, sir?” came a double voice in a perfect echo.

  Ren turned and was surprised to see Esparza entering the docking bay, speaking into his own radio. Dropping both arms and cocking his head in confusion, Ren asked, “What are you doing here?”

  Esparza held his hands up in a calming fashion.

  “You only do that before you say something that’s going to upset me,” Ren said.

  “Yes, sir, I do believe you’re right. There’s a, uh. . . A corpse has been found in the dormitories.”

  “The dormitories?”

  Jav unconsciously bent to listen.

  “Yes, sir. I believe he was an acquaintance of yours. . . a-and yours, Specialist Holson.”

  Jav was embarrassed. He couldn’t help his curiosity, but he felt like he was intruding. Ren jerked his head in a way that was both a dismissal and an invitation and Jav stepped closer.

  “Ulek Alsef was found dead this morning,” Esparza said.

  “Ulek Alsef? The finalist from our competition Block?”

  Esparza nodded.

  “Who’s there now?”

  “Drau and Hollins, sir. They knew you’d want to have a look yourself. They’re keeping the site clean.”

  “This is turning out to be a very busy morning,” Ren mumbled to himself. “Minister Witchlan, something has come up. I’ll send for the object readers immediately. I may call one away in the next hour. Esparza will help direct the sample teams.”

  “Very well, Director,” Witchlan said absently. He was examining the tip of his finger, now coated with the residue left by Gran Kwes, as it slowly dissolved down to the first joint in a streamer of whispering smoke. “Curious,” he said.

  Using his radio, Ren called for the object readers and made to leave.

  “Mind if I join you?” Jav asked.

  “Not a bit. Come on.”

  • • •

  Ren and Jav of course knew what lay on the other side of the door before they opened it, but not because of any information received from Esparza or other officers while they were en route. The smell permeated this entire level of the dormitory and the two Shades grimaced in mutual recognition at both the stench and the implausibility of it taking so long for someone to notice or to complain. The door slid open and the hot, moist ghost of death washed over them, ba
thing them in unseen and seemingly infectious putrefaction.

  The room was sparsely furnished, neat and tidy, identical to countless other dormitory units. Inside, Drau and Hollins waited patiently with handkerchiefs held over their mouths and noses, standing over a dead man slumped in a chair. The chair faced away from the door, but the condition of the man within in it was unmistakable. Ren and Jav circled around to view the corpse.

  Ulek Alsef looked as though he had fallen asleep in the chair and simply died there. The color and greasy cast of his skin along with the distended belly suggested to Ren that Alsef had been dead for two weeks at least. Ren knelt down to get a look at Alsef’s bowed head, addressing either Drau or Hollins as he did, “He’s been dead a while. The complaint came in this morning?”

  “Yes, sir,” Drau said, speaking through his handkerchief. “Three of them, actually.” His voice was firm, but contradicted his appearance. He was young and very pale, given substance only by the long black coat of his profession.

  The other man, Hollins, was heavyset and graying. He spoke in a quiet voice, barely audible through his handkerchief, “We’ve started questioning all the occupants on this floor and will spread out to the others. So far, though, everyone swears that the smell came about suddenly.”

  Ren snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Sir?”

  “Nothing.” Pursing his lips in frustration, Ren examined Alsef’s face.

  Dried black blood, issuing from his nose and ears, had collected to a point at his downcast chin, giving him a sharp, crooked pencil-tip goatee. Directly below, more black blood stained the floor. A small dark bead of blood decorated his forehead as well, but beyond that, there didn’t appear to be a mark on him.

  Ren stood up, forcing out a long breath. He folded his arms and glowered as he took in the pristine state of the room, with Alsef’s weapon unused in its rack on the wall.

  “What’s the matter, Ren?” Jav asked.

  Ren shook his head. “There’s been no sign of a struggle, but the blood suggests that he didn’t just die in his sleep.”

  “Drugs?”

  “Maybe. If he wasn’t a trained F-Gene fighter. To do this, his constitution would have required a quantity of drugs impossible to conceal.” To the officers, Ren said, “Has the medical team been contacted?”

  “They’re standing by,” Hollins said.

  “Bring them in.”

  “Yes, sir.” Hollins turned away and began speaking into his radio.

  “He could have been sick?” Jav offered.

  “Yeah. But I doubt it.” Ren shook his head again. He felt like he was sinking in quicksand. “It’s too perfect. The stink that’s coming off of him couldn’t have been spontaneous, but I’ll bet you anything that there was no noticeable smell until 0352 this morning, the moment the Root Palace was cut off from the rest of the Empire.”

  “You think it’s Professor Cranden’s killer.”

  Ren nodded.

  “But why Alsef?”

  “I don’t know.” Ren thought for a moment then turned to Drau. “Drau, when the medical and forensics teams get here I want you to check up on the rest of the Artifact Competition finalists. It may be nothing, but I have a bad feeling about this. Most of them should be somewhere in this dormitory.

  “Jav, have you seen Karza this morning?”

  “No. She’s probably waiting for me at the gravity block.”

  “Drau, Specialist Holson will check on Olander Karza. I’ll check on Lara Bester. That leaves Nanda Oslet, Reimon Yantz, Edren Rol, Wachs Ianosko, and Saya Lostrom.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Let’s go, Jav.”

  “What about the object reader?”

  “There’s no hurry. I don’t think we’re going to find anything. Not anything useful, anyway.”

  • • •

  Jav found Karza where he expected her, waiting for him at the gravity block. She was in the middle of her stretching routine and perked up at his arrival.

  “Morning, Karza,” he said.

  “Good morning.” She studied him for a moment and frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes. Something is most definitely wrong. Just how wrong has yet to be determined.” He brightened suddenly. “I’m glad to see that you’re all right. Ren’s got me spooked.”

  “‘All right’? What’s going on?”

  “Ulek Alsef is dead.”

  “What? How?”

  Jav shrugged, shaking his head. “Ren thinks he was murdered and that the other competition finalists might be in danger.”

  “Oh?” She grinned nervously, not quite sure how else to react. “Well you can see that I’m still alive. But Alsef. . . Who besides a Shade or another finalist could be capable of that?”

  Jav stared at her patiently.

  She met his stare, her eyes widening. “Was Alsef in the same condition as Professor Cranden?”

  “No. Just dead on a chair, no sign of a fight of any kind. There’s no proof and no real evidence yet. But a lot’s already happened today and I’m not sure we’re done yet. First thing this morning, all the Grans were found destroyed. Gone. Totally beyond repair.”

  Her eyes widened further, her jaw dropped.

  “When was the last time you saw Alsef?”

  “The last time we all got together, I think.”

  Jav nodded. “Anything strange or suspicious you can remember in the last few weeks?”

  She shook her head silently.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to stick close to me for the next few weeks,” he said.

  She looked at him with a smirk. “Just how close?”

  “I don’t want to invade your privacy or anything, but you are my subordinate, and I would like to ensure your safety.”

  She shrugged. “Whatever you think is appropriate is fine with me.”

  “Okay.”

  • • •

  Ren had Lara meet him at a public cafeteria. The two sat at a small table in the middle of a murmuring crowd, talking over cups of hot coffee.

  Ren leaned forward. “I’m going to put guards on all of you, but if anything happens—anything—I want you to call for me immediately.”

  Lara blushed and smiled sweetly. “If you really think that we’re in danger I won’t argue. But what do you think your officers can do that we can’t? I mean we are F-Gene fighters.”

  Ren shook his head. “They’re not for your protection. They’ll be your eyes and ears. Ours, too. That’s really. . .” he paused for a moment, his voice hitching uncontrollably. “That’s really all we can do.” He suddenly found that he couldn’t maintain eye contact with her. The potential truth of his last statement felt like a punch in the stomach. He had come here to make sure she was safe, to reassure her, but now he felt utterly powerless to stand in the way of whatever might be coming.

  She ran a hand over his cheek. “Hey, none of this is your fault. And you still may be wrong. Maybe what happened to Alsef was a freak accident.”

  The PA system cut through the monotone of the crowd noise and announced Lara’s name. She and Ren both started, but it was just a video call. She excused herself and when she was out of sight, Ren slumped back into his chair with an agitated sigh. What could he do that Professor Cranden could not? Just about anything Ren was capable of physically, Cranden could have matched psychically. He examined the psi blocker on his left wrist, running the fingers of his other hand over its black bulk. Alsef never had a chance. He would have to get all the finalists psi blockers, if only as a precaution.

  Lara returned in less than three minutes. Before leaving for the call she had been brimming with optimism, but now she looked despondent and on the verge of tears.

  Ren sat up suddenly, reflexively reacting to her mood change, but quickly smothered his surprise. He leaned forward and asked softly, “Lara, what’s the matter?”

  She shook her head with a sniff and smiled wanly.

  “Who was the call from?” He reached
over to wipe a drop of something dark and red from her forehead.

  She shook her head again, tears coming loose this time. “Things are going to change, aren’t they?” she said, but it wasn’t a question.

  He moved around the table and gently cradled her head in his arms. “Yes,” he said, unable to say otherwise.

  • • •

  “Thank you all for coming,” Ren said to the assembled members of the Death Squad. “Minister Witchlan and the generals have been involved in various stages of today’s investigation and have already been brought up to date.

  “Most of you probably already know about Ulek Alsef. If you haven’t heard yet, he was found dead in his room this morning. On a hunch—and because of what happened to Professor Cranden and how we found the Grans this morning—we checked on the rest of the Artifact Competition finalists. . .”

  With a clenched jaw Jav stared at Ren, waiting an eternity in seconds for him to finish.

  Ren met his gaze, continuing, “And found two more of them dead.”

  Jav snorted in disgust, shaking his head.

  “What?” Elza said incredulously. “What is going on? How can this person, whoever it is, just move about the palace, doing whatever he or she wants without anyone knowing, seeing, or suspecting?”

  “That’s an excellent question,” Ren said. “I have a feeling it’s academic, but it would give us a place to start.”

  “Who were the victims, Ren?” Kalkin asked calmly.

  “Reimon Yantz and Wachs Ianosko.”

  “They were both Block 1,” Vays said, showing burgeoning interest.

  “That’s right,” Ren said. “They were found together in the common room of an unused dorm unit—”

  “A tryst?” Elza said, raising an eyebrow.

  “There’s no evidence to suggest that,” Ren said.

  Vays caught himself and stifled the sarcastic laugh that threatened to escape.

  Ren continued without pause, “Evidence does suggest that there were more than the two of them in that room; food and drink for maybe five or six people in total—I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a party, but it looks like there was a meeting of some sort. The dormitories aren’t equipped with security cameras, so we have to rely on eyewitness accounts to determine who may have come and gone. And you can imagine how reliable that information is going to be.