QUANTUM MORTIS: A Man Disrupted

by Steve Rzasa

  “Zero Zero Tango, roger that, sir!” Tower nodded and barked the unit motto. “Not in our house, sir!”

  “That’s right, Tower, not in our damn house. Dismissed.”

  The automated process for leaving MCID headquarters was similar to the one for arriving, only it was considerably faster, the heavy weapons didn’t track them, and vehicles exiting the base were launched at highly elevated angles to avoid the possibility of collision with incoming vars. Tower grunted against the g-forces; he had experienced less violent hot zone extractions.

  Once clear of the base, Baby reassumed control and leveled out the var. They were heading east, in the direction of the Morchardese compound a few towers south of Embassy Row.

  “Where to, boss?”

  “It depends. Ring Victor and see if Hildy wants to come along for the ride.”

  To his surprise, she didn’t complain, but complied without comment. A moment later, he heard the detector’s voice and her face appeared superimposed on the left corner of the cockpit. He could see an open floorplan bustling with activity behind her. She smiled at him.

  “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon, Chief Tower.”

  “We strive for efficiency at MCID. I thought you’d like to know that the case is yours. XAR is viewing it as a civilian homicide barring any conclusive evidence to the contrary. I’m to liaise with TPPD, render all due assistance, and so forth.”

  She whooped and mimed blowing him a kiss. “Thank you, Tower! You won’t regret it!”

  “Yes, you will,” Baby predicted.

  He ignored her.

  “So, now that the case is yours, how do you feel about dinner and an interrogation?”

  “Well, I do enjoy travel, long walks on the beach, and enhanced interpellation techniques,” she said, looking vacant and twirling her hair with a finger. Then she laughed and Tower felt that he might have just fallen in love. “Actually, I ate at my desk. Who do you have in mind, the royal family? Can we use any special military methodologies?”

  “Too bad. Yes, and no. Major Zeuthen wants to keep an eye on the Morchardese in case there turns out to be a xeno angle to it, so I have to review their security. I figured you’d be contacting them for questioning in the next day or two, so…”

  “Want me to meet you there?”

  “I just left base, so I can pick you up in about 15 hectasecs if you like.”

  “I do like. Let me try to get this report filed then, and I’ll meet you at the Level 316 visitor parking.”

  “Roger. See you then.”

  “Thanks, Tower. Hildreth out.”

  After she closed the line, they flew in silence for a few decasecs. Tower waited and braced himself, knowing it was coming. Then the var suddenly banked sharply to the left, throwing him hard against his restraints, as Baby turned toward the bright lights of the city center in a much more aggressive manner than was strictly necessary. There we go, he thought. He was relieved that she’d gotten it out of her system now, rather than waiting until Hildy was in the var.

  He leaned back and smiled. It might not be an actual date per se, in the sense that his female companion had any idea of his level of personal interest in her. And, to be honest, invading the privacy of a grief-stricken family would not have been his first choice for an evening out with Trans Paradis Police Department Sub-Orbital Detector Derin Hildreth. It would not have even made the top ten. On the other hand, this marked the first time in eight years that he was on his way to pick up an attractive woman for a night out together, and if that wasn’t a healthy step forward, well, psychotherapeutic neural optimization and re-stabilization could suck it for all he was concerned.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A Crisis of Hegemony, or general Crisis of the State, is a Crisis of Authority. These kinds of Crises represent the moment at which a genuine revolutionary Assault on the Old Order can occur, as the various societal Interests are propelled into Action to try and resolve the failures of the Ruling Class. On Zhuhai, the Crisis of Authority was triggered by the continued malinvestments of the House Dai Zhan in the face of economic breakdown and widespread unemployment. On Morchard, a similar Crisis occurred but the alliance of the Corporate Interests with the Revolutionary Forces proved sufficient to topple the Monarchy.

  —from “A History of the Revolution on Morchard” by Graham Eccles-Hamlin

  Nineteen Eighty Three Eight Ten North Balustrade, a silver and bronze tower topping out at a mere three hundred stories, was only about nine hectasecs from the police station. A spire of glowing orange light capped its uppermost floor. Every ten floors or so were blank walls in the place of glass; presumably the high-security floors where various royal families or other security-conscious residents lived. The Morchardese residence comprised eighteen floors, beginning at the two hundredth.

  Tower eased back on the aerovar’s accelerator. He angled in gently toward the structure. Red bars and the number “20 M” flashed on his display, and the controls abruptly ceased to respond to his action. The car shuddered and began to slowly turn so the vehicle was alongside the building rather than pointing toward it.

  “Proximity override. We have reached the twenty meter zone and the building augment has arrested our flight. I am informed their grav tractors will bring us inside shortly. But you have to shut down the manual controls first.”

  “Manual disengaged. Let them take us in and remember to play nice with their building, please.”

  “His name is Matyas, and he appears to be functional, if congenitally retarded.”

  “Does he have the Morchardese protocols.”

  “Got ’em. Do you want them yourself?”

  “For both of us, please.”

  A stream of images and sounds coursed into Tower’s head. Beside him, he heard Hildy grunt softly as Victor permitted Baby to send the data to her as well. He registered the flood of information little more than a faint perception at the edge of his consciousness, as if he was hearing someone sitting behind him talking in a low whisper. But someone who was talking very, very fast, and in a manner that allowed him to understand and recall every single word.

  “Download complete.”

  “Thanks, Baby.” He spoke too soon. The headache hit him like a lightning bolt between the eyes.

  “She doesn’t have the deftest touch, does she.” Hildy winced as she massaged her temples.

  “There was a lot of information,” Tower lied.

  Knock it off, Baby, or I’ll turn you off when I come back.

  “Sure you will.” She scoffed at his threat.

  The armored var came to a complete halt ten meters from the building and hung there, motionless, suspended in space some 600 meters over the street. Traffic continued racing past on his left in colorful blurred lines. The vehicle shook as the building took it in its gravitic hold and twisted it, turning it toward the building and pulling it toward a grey ferrocrete wall with an adaptive interweave, as evidenced by the crystalline grid barely visible on its surface. The windows of floors above and below were turned a dark smoky orange by the setting sun. Just as the nose of the var was about to touch the wall, it split open and ushered them into an empty hangar compartment that glowed with red lights.

  Everything shook from side to side as the vehicle stopped and the tractor beam shut down. The red lights inside the hangar suddenly turned green with a loud pop that was audible inside the var. It was not confidence inspiring to think this creaky old gravity system had been the only thing holding them supported in space a pair of decasecs before.

  “Power down.” Tower released their harnesses and rolled his shoulders. He popped the canopy and the smells of ionized air and hot plastics filled his nose. The thrum of the aerovar’s engines died in a low grumble. “I hoped you enjoyed the ride, Detector Hildreth.”

  “I did indeed. Thank you, Tower. And thank you, Baby.”

  “My pleasure,” Tower said, surreptitiously checking his Sphinx. He was unsurprised to see the passage of a few kilosecs hadn’t
drained the ammo cartridge, but it was a habit. “You want point on this?”

  “If you don’t mind,” Hildy smiled at him. “I suggest we divide and conquer. You work on the theory it’s political, and I’ll assume it’s personal.”

  Tower nodded. It would have been hard to resist that smile; fortunately he didn’t have to. “Hildy, I need to tell you something. If it is political, it could be dangerous. There are very good reasons MCID handles xeno-politicals instead of your department.”

  “I’m not worried.” She winked at him and squeezed his armored arm. “I brought a big strong soldier boy along, didn’t I?”

  He had no response except to resist the urge to smile back and hope he wasn’t blushing.

  They stepped out into the hangar. Tower found himself facing his mirror image in the polished onyx wall opposite. There was a single hatch, just wide enough for two people to walk through side-by-side, assuming neither of them were much taller than he was.

  “How old is this building anyhow?”

  “It was constructed in 3162. It has seen better days, but it is quite popular among exiles; there are 27 former monarchs and heads of state resident here. Also, you should probably be informed a Morchardese guardsman approaches.”

  “Thanks, Baby.” Tower ran his hand through his hair, to little effect. He tugged at his tactical jacket and brushed a stray hair off his right sleeve. It was blond; he glanced over at Hildy and saw that she was zipping up her vest to cover her exposed throat and patting her hip to reassure herself that her pistol was still there. She was definitely his kind of girl, he thought to himself.

  The lift door to their right opened and the guardsman strode into view. The man was huge, at least two meters tall, with arms thick as Tower’s neck. He wore body armor the color of iridescent pearl, decorated with gold and silver traceries. It was flexible and when he stepped out of the lift, it moved with him as if it was an external skin. Blue lights blinked on a curvy white interface unit bulging under his left ear, and in his right hand he held a staff that was as long as he was tall. A wickedly barbed scythe topped the staff.

  “Abase yourselves, all those who request entrance into the royal demesne.” His tone was clipped, and he pronounced his TH as if it was the letter D. His eyes were even more unnerving than his massive size. Their irises were bright orange, the royal color of the Kingdom of Morchard. Tower rather doubted it was natural.

  “Chief Warrant Officer Graven Tower, Military Crimes Investigative Division, and Detector Derin Hildreth of TPPD.” Tower summoned the directions for Morchardese protocol that Baby had ready for him. A diagram and lines of text ghosted over his view out of his right eye. “We request permission to enter the Realm.”

  “The petitioner indicates respect by kneeling on the left knee, slowly. Maintain eye contact. If entry to the royal domain is permitted, the royal guard will extend his staff and tap upon the right shoulder to signify authorization has been granted.”

  Tower lowered himself to one knee and Hildy quickly followed suit. Tower stared at the guardsman, fighting down the urge to look away from those gaudy orange eyes. The barb descended quickly onto his shoulder. The guardsman repeated the ritual act with Hildy. Then he stepped back and gave them room to rise before turning and indicating that they should follow him. Tower eyed the elongated weapon warily.

  “The queen has graciously granted you entrance and audience.”

  What is that thing, Baby? That’s not a staff; it looks like he could behead us with it!

  “Lingan Arms X-54 Poleblade. The blade is charged and is capable of cutting through your tactical armor. The butt end conceals a five-shot projectile cannon… Tower, so3(#tqng iiiiiiiiiis ifne9fin wJo2+g block-block-block-block-bl8^-~”

  Her garbled voice trailed off. Tower was more confused than alarmed. Didn’t she say the building’s brain was stupid? How could a centuries-old building outwit a reasonably up-to-date military augment?

  The guard suddenly stopped and turned around. He tapped his earpiece, then nodded, all the while staring at Tower with those creepy orange eyes.

  “Chief Tower, I regret to inform you that authorization to enter the Realm is not granted to artificial denizens. All neural communications with the military base’s server will be suspended until you depart from the Realm. I trust this will not cause you any difficulties.” He nodded and turned around again.

  “Easy for him to say, he won’t have to deal with her when we get back to the var,” he whispered to Hildy. She smiled and shook her head. It seemed Victor was rather less put out.

  The guard led them into a lift that took them up to the 213th floor. The doors hissed open and revealed a corridor of the same décor as the docking level. The difference here was the red-leafed spike ferns that waved as the guardsman walked by. Tower and Hildy stopped as the guardsman paused before a set of massive oak doors. A small orange banner with four silver stars at center hung on each one. The guardsman tapped with the curved metal of the scythe. It made a very distinctive thud against the wood.

  The doors slid open. Two more guardsmen, equally massive, stood at attention just inside the threshold. Instead of weird archaic weaponry, each was holding a near-stock Madsen-Saetter PMP 42, a melee range assault laser which Tower had never particularly liked due to its tendency to rise rapidly in burst mode. They might have been twins, with identical orange eyes, pale complexions, and close-cropped brown hair. Tower wondered if cloning was permitted on Morchard or if their guards were just highly inbred. He started to ask Baby, then remembered she’d been cut off.

  Their escort admitted them into a broad sitting room. The windows looked over a beautiful view of central Trans Paradis at night. The flickering lights of aerovars streamed in currents at various heights, like fish swimming in long, slender schools between the massive trunks of submerged trees.

  In the center was a desk, flanked by two lounge sofas. In an ornately carved chair with orange fabric behind the desk sat an older woman. Her white-streaked grey hair bound up in a bun, and there were deep lines on her face. She had once been attractive, perhaps even very attractive, but only the ghost of her former beauty still survived the years. Her eyes were a dark, expressive brown, and their whites were red, presumably from crying. She wore a silver crown with a single orange jewel at the center.

  When she stood, the guards dropped gracefully to their knees. Tower couldn’t access the protocol, but he nudged Hildy and the two of them rather more clumsily did the same. But he kept her eyes locked upon her face, and from her complete lack of surprise or agitation, he surmised that she not only knew why they were there, but had been awaiting them.

  “Please rise, officers.” Her voice was calm and coolly controlled. “Am I correct in assuming your visit is connected to the fact that my son’s signal was interrupted at 16:52 this afternoon?”

  “Yes, your highness, if you are the mother of Arpad Vladislaus Jagaelleon.”

  “I am Beatrice Jagaelleon, and in addition to being the Queen of the Realm of Morchard, I am Arpad’s mother. Do you have word of him?”

  Tower could see that she was bracing herself for bad news, even as her eyes seemed to plead with him to tell her that it was all a mistake, a technical failure, an untimely sunburst, anything that would suffice to explain the way in which her son’s vital monitor had abruptly shut down.

  Hildy smoothly took the lead. “Your highness, I regret to inform you that your son Arpad’s remains were positively identified earlier this evening from his genetic record on file with the immigration authority. We are sorry for your loss.”

  The queen was a brave woman. Although she swayed for a moment, as Hildy’s news were a punch that had shaken her, neither shock nor grief touched her calmly dignified face. Tower couldn’t help but admire the way the woman was holding herself together. He knew well what a terrible price she was paying inside to maintain such flawless composure.

  “We feared as much.” Her voice started to crack, and she cleared her throat. “The roya
l augments informed us at once when his signal failed, but the thought was that it was merely a technical failure. Was it an accident? Or was it… was it something else.”

  “I am afraid we have reason to believe your son was the victim of a criminal homicide, your highness.”

  She nodded her head. Tower could see she had been expecting as much. Again, not even a flicker of surprise crossed her face.

  “May I ask what happened, Detector?”

  Hildy glanced at Tower and he nodded. Dissembling would achieve nothing but to lose the confidence of the family. In the absence of a body, there would be no hiding what happened. “It appears your son was struck by a single disruptor burst. He would have died instantly. That is why his monitor went off-line, it was destroyed.”

  “Was the killer caught?”

  “Regrettably, no, your highness. Not yet. A homicide investigation has been initiated by TPPD. And, as you can see by the Chief Warrant Officer’s presence, MCID is assisting with our investigation. I’m very sorry, but I have to ask. Would it be possible for us to ask you and some of the members of your household a few questions about your son? I know it is hard to think about this right now, but the more information we have, the faster we can identify your son’s killer and bring him to justice.”

  “Yes, of course, anything, anything,” the queen replied.

  “Thank you very much, your highness.” Tower cleared his throat and Hildy was quick enough to catch his meaning. “Your highness, would it be possible for our connections to our augments to be restored? It is an unusual request, but we really do need to record these conversations so that we’ll have a complete record for future reference.”

  The queen nodded, studiously ignoring the unobtrusively shaking head of the guard captain to Tower’s right. She glanced at Tower and smiled faintly as she met his eyes.

  “I imagine the alternative is being required to submit to interrogation in your offices.”

  “Only those who are possible suspects,” Tower said. Was that a spark of anger in her eyes? Or was it something else? He reminded himself that this was a formidable woman who had survived a revolution and was very accustomed to getting her own way. “Your highness, the detector is correct. Access to these recordings will significantly aid her investigation.”