The Beast of Tsunam (Rev Smalley: Galactic P.I. Book 1)

by Combs, Scott A.

  When a Tsunamian showed signs of being a Deviant they were to register themselves and remain isolated from the normal populace. There was counseling if the government believed they could be corrected. Sybil received counseling, drugs and even deep genetic reprogramming, but nothing changed her inner feelings. She told herself she was created this way and eventually her kind would be accepted in society. But she knew that was just wishful thinking.

  Once, she thought she might travel to another system and start over but those plans never materialized. Then the authorities changed the laws, had known Deviants branded and off-world travel was prohibited. The old days were gone and she knew her new days were numbered. Sometime soon they would come in the dead of night. Her door would be broken down and she would be dragged away, never to be seen again.

  She tried to shake off those thoughts and decided she might as well dismiss her mood as being brought on by grief. All she wanted was to go to the safety of her own bed for a good night’s sleep. So she tidied up quickly. Then she went to the door and opened it to leave like she’d done hundreds of thousands of times before.

  The one faint light shown dimly and didn’t penetrate the depths of the tunnel very far. The sound of rushing water made her apprehensive wondering about getting caught in the tunnel by the Beast. She knew she was just fretting like a child over better lighting, not walking in a group, all the things she should have done differently. She performed this ritual every night and so far nothing bad had ever happened.

  She turned the little bar’s lights off inside with a remote and placed the little gadget into her pocket. A strange feeling that tonight was the beginning of the end crept back into her mind. She just wanted to forget the bar and run as fast as she could to a transmat elevator and hide under a thick warm comforter.

  She closed the door and was about to lock it when she heard the lock set on its own. The little tunnel light flickered and went dark. Her heart skipped a beat. She fumbled with the locking touch pad but couldn’t get the damned thing to respond. She pulled the remote out again and pressed the switch to light her doorstep. Repeated tries yielded nothing.

  A scuffling sound echoed from the end of the tunnel. The hair on the nape of her neck stood on end; she let out a whimper of fright.

  Sybil turned and could barely distinguish a backlit figure at the end of the tunnel. Her body started to quake with fear. Her head darted back and forth, looking for an escape, but she knew she was trapped. If she could get past the figure she felt certain she could outdistance her assailant down one of the alleys. She started to run but stopped when the figure spread its arms to block her.

  “Did you do as instructed?” came a menacing voice from the figure.

  “Ye⁠—⁠yes,” she stammered.

  “And will he be at the Eugenics Lab tomorrow?”

  “He said he would.”

  “That’s good.”

  Sybil’s arms quaked and her blood ran cold in her veins.

  “If I can’t have the one human male then he’ll do very nicely,” said the dark figure more to itself than to Sybil.

  “Why do you have to hurt them?” she asked. “Can’t you get what you want without destroying the humans?”

  “That’s none of your business. Your job was to lure a replacement into my influence,” said the figure as he moved down the tunnel closer to her. “I believe our business is at an end.”

  “I did what you wanted. Please don’t hurt me,” she pleaded.

  “I’m not going to harm you Sybil,” he said, getting nearer.

  Sybil backed against the door. Her knees would not stop shaking. It all seemed like some nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. She watched in disbelief as the figure grew larger . . . larger than normal, morphing taller and broader as it walked down the tunnel.

  Then the figure hunched over and a beastly snarl rumbled in the dark. It wasn’t just a snarl, it was a mixture of words and growls as it spoke. “The Beast will⁠—⁠” and the voice turned less understandable into an animal growl as the rumbling increased.

  There was nowhere to run except towards the creature in a desperate attempt to juke around it. Sybil’s mind numbed; she couldn’t move. The creature was close enough now to feel its body heat and the light above her door flickered back on as if on cue.

  She stared in total terror, looking into a face so hideous she nearly fainted. She raised her arms to defend herself which enraged the Beast. It swung a huge fist at her, smacking her so hard in the head that her eyes only saw a flash of blinding light. She went down hard and instantly was dragged back upright by her hair.

  For a moment she regained consciousness, screamed and squirmed in its grasp. The creature was strong, it grabbed ahold of her forearm with a hand-turned-claw causing her body to be heaved without a sound off the ground. Tossing the body in the air like little girls do when they swing their dolls around by their arms. Her head struck on hard stone with a loud thump. It was peaceful then for a while and Sybil knew nothing of her body being torn, broken and dragged out of the tunnel and into the night air of the causeway.

  Chapter 7

  “REV WAKE UP,” SAID FLINT, nudging Rev in the arm. “It’s all over the news.”

  “What’s all over the news?” he asked groggily.

  “Another murder,” replied Flint, turning on the vidi-screen.

  The image of a top ranking government official sitting in a high-backed chair and instructing the inhabitants of the city to be cautious; not to panic. The official continued; saying a creature of unknown origin had attacked one of their citizens earlier this morning⁠—⁠killing her. The authorities were collaborating with Earth Alliance in deference to that the newly joined planet’s experience in solving these types of crimes. All citizens were urged to assist in any way possible by directing all inquiries to the authorities.

  The screen changed and the face of Regency Tuloff appeared in a very agitated state. “Mr. Smalley,” said Tuloff.

  “Yes,” said Rev.

  “You’ve seen the news?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is getting out of hand. Now we have the populace to contend with. Have you found anything yet that explains what is going on?”

  “Yes,” he said flatly.

  Tuloff waited for more. “And?”

  “And, I’m not ready to divulge my findings other than the fact that the original murder was perpetrated by some large bipedal creature. Also, the crime scene was compromised before I arrived the day before yesterday.”

  “We already know some monster is killing, but I can’t believe the crime scene was contaminated. How can that be⁠—⁠we took precautions against such a thing happening!”

  “I’m sorry, Regency,” said Flint. “The electronic records show no tampering but the evidence clearly shows otherwise.”

  “I’m holding you responsible,” he told Flint. “Any more irregularities and I’ll have you reformatted.”

  Flint showed obvious signs of agitation.

  “Regency,” broke in Rev.

  “Yes.”

  “The mere fact that the original crime scene was compromised is a clue unto itself.”

  “Tampering with evidence is a very serious crime,” said Tuloff.

  “I agree, but if we infer that the tampering was for our benefit, then we logically must assume someone other than the creature knew of the murderer and wants us to find him or it.”

  “That does sound logical to me,” said Tuloff, waiting for Rev to continue. After a long pause, Tuloff’s face pinched up in anger. “What can we deduce from such a criminal act?”

  Rev enjoyed taunting him with the silence. Finally he relented and gave his opinion. “We can deduce that there are others involved who are in control of the creature,” he said smugly.

  “If that’s so, you need to step up the investigation and get to the bottom of this conspiracy before we have more citizens murdered on the causeways.”

  “I agree,” said Flint and Rev together.r />
  “Then hurry up and investigate the second murder. It’s too much for me, knowing there’s a creature loose in our city, let alone the fact that our citizens will overreact to the situation.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Rev smiling and rising to leave. “Right after I get some coffee.”

  “Flint,” commanded Tuloff, screaming with anger. The little automaton flinched. “I want a report immediately upon finding anything. Do you hear me? I shouldn’t have to call you for an update.”

  “Yes⁠—⁠sir,” said Flint.

  “Upon finding anything,” reiterated Tuloff. Flint agreed feebly as the screen went blank and receded back into the ceiling.

  “He’s pretty upset,” remarked Rev dryly.

  Flint floated into the kitchen and the fresh smell of coffee beans came to Rev’s nose. “He has every right to be angry,” said Flint. “I’ve let him down.”

  “No, you haven’t,” rebuked Rev. “So far the only mishandling was the crime scene. I figure someone who knows about the crime and the security around it found a way to plant the evidence and wipe their tracks. So you couldn’t trace it back to them even if you wanted to.”

  “I guess you’re right,” said Flint, pushing a hot cup of coffee to Rev. “But, I still feel responsible.”

  “Quit beating yourself up,” said Rev. “Whoever did it is incredibly intelligent and knows how to alter official files. That’s an inside job as I see it. We just need to find someone who fits the profile for such a task.”

  “Where do we start?”

  “Tell me who knew about the murder other than yourself and Tuloff.”

  “Only the top officials of both governments and, of course, your agents, along with the EIA director.”

  The first thing that came into Rev’s mind was Magnus. “Well let’s just let that information rattle around in our heads for a while and see if we get any inspiration.”

  “Do you think these murders are connected somehow?”

  “Absolutely, but I don’t want to speculate further until I’ve poked around more.”

  “Then we should leave at once,” said Flint.

  “Not until I clean up, drink this excellent coffee, and you make another one to go.”

  Flint tried to think like an investigator while multitasking with the coffee and knew he needed more training if he was to be of any help to his new partner. He was getting used to his role and it felt good not being just a machine. He was Rev’s partner, at least until the investigator went back to Earth. Even though the circumstances were unsettling with the murders, Flint was happy for the first time in his existence. This was the biggest adventure he’d ever had with the possibility of becoming important if they could solve this case. A galactic feather in his cap, one might say.

  “It would be my pleasure,” said Flint, filling the coffee grinder with beans. Whining, the motor pulverized the little beans, spreading a strong smell throughout the apartment. Rev relaxed for a moment, enjoying the normalcy of his morning ritual and licked his lips at the anticipation of another cup of coffee.

  “Rev?”

  “Yes,” came Rev’s voice from the bathroom.

  “I wonder who⁠—⁠” said Flint.

  Rev interrupted. “Who’s the second victim?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have a pretty good idea,” said Rev, “but let’s wait and see, shall we?”

  * * *

  FLINT ACCESSED THE MAIN frame, quickly finding the address of the second victim. They left with Rev carrying a large thermal cup of coffee. It didn’t take long before the directions brought them back to Sybil’s bar. When they arrived at the causeway above her establishment a few onlookers had gathered. Rev noticed a few that were Sybil’s model and a couple of the Nordic males along with the blonde female model of the first victim. It seemed so unnatural to have only a few basic phenotypes seeming to make the tragedy less important somehow. Really, when I think of it, thought Rev, who would notice one death out of God knows how many of the same copies? Rev told the throng of people to step back and let him through, finding the now familiar stasis poles erected. Rev passed through the field and looked down on what was left of the body.

  “Dammit,” he cursed. “It’s Sybil.”

  Flint flew around and hovered on the opposite side of the body. “How do you know it’s her? The victim is barely recognizably female.”

  “Her clothes,” he said, “at least what’s left of them.”

  Flint did recognize the bottom half of the outfit. It was drenched in blood, but he could still see it was Sybil’s. Most of the body was present except for her head which looked as if it had been torn away. Her body was positioned face down, if any face had been left. Her arms were laid out in an unnatural position with scores of dark contusions and bruising across her flesh. Her left leg had a series of deep lacerations with a huge bite gouged out of the fleshy part of one thigh.

  “This is horrible,” said Flint, shuddering.

  “It’s my fault she’s dead,” said Rev, feeling miserable.

  “I don’t see how,” said Flint. “You couldn’t have known she would be randomly picked by the Beast.”

  “This is anything but random,” replied Rev. “As a matter of fact, she probably knew she was the next target.”

  Flint’s little mechanical face looked quizzical.

  “She tried to tell me last night just before we left,” said Rev.

  “Did I miss something? I should’ve never taken that drink,” he said, chastising himself.

  “She knew something,” said Rev, “because her words came out like she was saying her last words. If you get my meaning. She was afraid and in danger. I didn’t think anything more about it other than her love for Willa. But I was wrong. Now she’s dead.”

  Flint couldn’t think of anything to comfort Rev’s grief so he reviewed the body. “Why do you think her head is missing?”

  “On my world a missing head might slow down the investigation, but here on Tsunam, I think it was more for effect.”

  “Effect?”

  “To put a scare into the people. The more gruesome the crime, the more panic it’ll produce.”

  “Oh, I see,” Flint said, finding it hard to think of anything scarier than a murder, but he supposed having a murderer who tore your head off could be a bit worse. “And why do you think her arms and fingers look so strange?”

  “She was tortured,” replied Rev.

  “Tortured for what purpose?”

  “That’s the big question now isn’t it? Her back is broken so we know she didn’t run here. There’s a blood trail leading from here to the stairwell. My guess is we’ll find she was attacked in the tunnel outside the bar and dragged here.”

  The little machine whirled around and gave a look at the blood that certainly came from the stairs. Flint floated in the direction of the stairwell. “She was attacked down there. Then was incapacitated by a broken back, beaten vengefully and dragged up here to be dumped onto the pavement.” Flint came back to the body. “Then she was murdered?”

  “Yes,” said Rev. “I’ll also add that she was unconscious when she was dragged here and the Beast broke her fingers and arms trying to revive her for the kill. It must be a loathsome creature that’s a sadistic megalomaniac to revive its victim long enough just to kill it by ripping her head clean off. The bite on the leg was to satisfy its hunger and it happened after she was dead.”

  “How can you tell that?” Flint bobbed around for a full visual recording.

  “Not enough blood around the wound, if her heart was still pumping there’d be twice as much.”

  “You certainly know your stuff,” admired Flint. “But why would the Beast torture its victim unless it’s⁠—⁠”

  Rev interrupted. “Intelligent. Yes. We can safely assume that the Beast is as intelligent as you or me.”

  “That’s a frightening thought,” said Flint.

  “Take it as a fact,” said Rev. “We’re dealing with a highly developed
, intelligent animal that is both bipedal and can also be quadrupedal. Notice its tracks up here are on its hind legs when it killed Sybil. And these tracks when it left show it was on all fours.”

  “I just don’t see how the animal is intelligent.”

  “You don’t get it?”

  “No,” said Flint, feeling ashamed of his neural brain capacity.

  “This Beast planned these murders. First the woman a week ago. Getting the EIA brought in on the case. Then my friends go missing when they get close. Sybil feeding us a line of crap so we’ll go find Willa, apparently implicating the Eugenics Laboratory in some evil plot that we don’t know enough about yet. Doesn’t that sound complicated to you?”

  “It certainly does when you say it like that,” agreed Flint, feeling inadequate. “But we don’t know anything about the lab yet.”

  “Don’t look so glum,” said Rev. “Most of my colleagues wouldn’t have come up with what I’ve told you either, I’ll share my lab clue later.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better. I’m a poor investigator,” said Flint.

  “On the contrary. You knew there was something strange about the way her arms and fingers looked. You have good instincts. You just haven’t had a mentor to suggest what those instincts mean.”

  “Then, I could become a good crime scene investigator,” said Flint more to himself than to Rev.

  “Face it little buddy. You’re already a good crime scene investigator. With me you’ll be great.”

  Chapter 8

  REV AND FLINT FINISHED THEIR investigations while onlookers began leaving, tired of watching the morbid scene. Flint reported to Regency Tuloff, covering their findings to date and left instructions for a removal team to be sent. Rev released both crime scenes, so Flint requested both corpses be sent to the reclamation center at the Eugenics Laboratory to be kept there until the investigation concluded.