Chapter Four – Space Jumping
When he got back to the car, Richardson ignored the enquiring look of his sergeant. He tapped the screen on his wrist data terminal and said, “UNSA, I need to get to Mildura ASAP.”
“Detective Inspector Richardson, we have a helicopter waiting for you on standby,” came the immediate reply. “If you will go to the nearest helipad at the Royal Melbourne Hospital, it will pick you up within half an hour.”
His sergeant looked at him in frank disbelief. “Boss, what is going on?” he asked. “What on earth are you involved with?”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t think I know half of what is going on,” Richardson replied. “And very little of what I know is on Earth. I do know that there has been a multiple murder and I think I know how to catch the murderer. Drive me to the helipad – in a hurry. I’ll brief you on the way.” Sergeant Wilson shrugged and the car pulled out into the traffic with lights and siren. Less than fifteen minutes later, they were both flying over the northern suburbs of Melbourne on their way to Mildura.
Less than an hour later, Detective Inspector Richardson and Sergeant Wilson walked slowly up the gravel path to a white corrugated iron building with the grandiose title of ‘Mildura Space Adventure Centre’ emblazoned in bold, red letters across the entrance. Richardson was still stiff from the two-hour helicopter ride. Military helicopters tended to be built for speed rather than comfort.
A small rocket stood out in the centre of the large concrete pad in front of the building. They hadn’t gone far when a siren sounded and red lights around the perimeter of the pad started flashing. Nearby, behind an earthen embankment, there was a shallow concrete trench and wall with a sign that read: ‘Shelter here when lights are flashing’.
“Quick, boss, in here,” Sergeant Wilson said. They both hurried over and sat down, sheltering behind the wall. A little while later there was a bone-shaking roar as the rocket launched and arced into the sky.
When the sirens were silent and the lights stopped flashing, they got up, watched the path of the rocket for a moment, and then continued on to the building. There was a man waiting for them at the front door. The building was neat but purely functional. The man was neither of those. He was dressed in a shabby and ill-fitting flight suit. His skin had a yellowish cast and he hadn’t shaved for some time.
“You looking for a space jump?” he asked. “We’ve got the latest technology.” He looked at Detective Inspector Richardson’s figure. “We can handle all body types and haven’t lost anyone this month.”
Richardson showed his ID. “Detective Inspector Richardson and Detective Sergeant Wilson, Australian Federal Police. We’re here to see Samuel Carter.”
The man seemed to deflate and his face fell. “You’ve found him,” he said. “Come on in. I’ve been expecting you.”
Inside, most of the building was taken up with two small rockets similar to the one that had just taken off. They were in various stages of preparation, with parts and testing equipment arranged along the side benches. There was a small office at the front and it was here that Samuel Carter and Richardson sat down to talk. Detective Sergeant Wilson remained standing, making careful note of the surroundings.
“You said you’ve been expecting a visit from the police,” Richardson said. “Why is that?”
Samuel Carter gave a resigned shrug of his shoulders and pointed to the newspaper on the desk. The headline, ‘Prometheus Found’, was in clear, black type. “I figured that you’d know how they died by now and that you’d be coming to pay me a call.” Detective Inspector Richardson looked at him quizzically, so he continued. “Given that the original enquiry all but charged me with criminal negligence, I figured that once you had the evidence, you’d be out to complete the job.”
“I’m sorry, Mr Carter,” the detective said. “But the original enquiry did not have all the pertinent data. Things may have been unfairly implied. We now know that simple negligence was not involved. We have reason to believe that the crew of the Prometheus were murdered.”
Carter’s first reaction was shock and surprise as he tried to process the information. Then he broke down and started to cry and laugh at the same time. “It wasn’t me,” he said. “It wasn’t my fault. All these years and it wasn’t my fault.” Richardson waited patiently for him to calm down. Eventually he wiped his tears away with his sleeve and explained. “After the original enquiry, I really thought it was something I’d done or left undone. Along with most of the world, I really thought it was my fault. Now you say they were murdered and that means I had nothing to do with it. All these years and I had nothing to do with it.”
“Mr Carter, you were the Ares II crew member responsible for the onboard maintenance of Prometheus and its equipment. Is that true?” Richardson asked. Carter nodded. “Did that include the power systems on the field suits?”
Carter shook his head. “No, they were sealed units,” he said. “Wait – is that how they died? Then you’re looking for someone who never left the Earth.” He paused in thought for a moment and then slammed his fist down on the table. “The Chinese!” he said. “They wanted that mission and those units were manufactured by the Chinese. They must’ve sabotaged the suit units when they didn’t get the mission.” Even though he was outraged and angry, his voice still had a slightly puzzled tone, as if he couldn’t quite believe his own theory. “But it was our turn. You know? It was Australia’s turn.”
Richardson consulted his small data recorder. “That’s an interesting theory,” he said. “Rest assured we will investigate it in due course. Was there any tension among the crew – any jealousies or illicit relationships?”
Carter took a deep breath to calm down and then shook his head firmly. “No,” he said. “The commander would have cracked down hard on anything like that. Anyway, I checked that ship and all its gear. At the time I said that I was sure everything was in perfect working order. Now, after all these years, I can say that again. I’m sure all the bits I could check were in perfect working order. Tensions in the crew?” He again shook his head. “Sure, but not relevant. How could any of the crew sabotage the lander? No, it was the Chinese. It must’ve been.”
“Professor Freeman mentioned that Dr O’Connor was close to Colonel Prentice ...”
Carter laughed. “He would, wouldn’t he?” he said. “If there was anyone jealous on that ship it was Charlie Freeman. But no, as I said, the commander kept a tight watch and it was all friendly and by the book.” The detective raised an eyebrow. “No, really,” Carter insisted. “On a spaceship, there’s nowhere to hide. It must’ve been the Chinese.”
Detective Inspector Richardson nodded and then got up from his chair. “Thank you for your time, Mr Carter,” he said. “Rest assured, we know they weren’t killed by faulty maintenance and we will pursue all possible avenues. One last thing. Professor DeWitt wrote something on the inside of the lander before he died. He wrote: ‘They’ve got to me. I should have known they would. I was so close. I wish I had time to write the details.’ Any idea what he meant?”
Carter shook his head. “No. But I wouldn’t take much notice of anything DeWitt wrote and nothing he wrote would surprise me.” Richardson nodded and turned to go.
As they were leaving, Sergeant Wilson paused at the doorway, looking into the shed. “What is it that you do here?” he asked.
Carter snorted. “They call it space jumping. Rich kids with more money than brains. They take a rocket ride up to 200K and then freefall back into the atmosphere. It seems dangerous but there’s an automatic parachute system that gets them down safely. The recovery crew will be bringing in that one you saw take off shortly.” He looked around him with something like disgust. “I hate the whole stupid idea but after the enquiry I couldn’t get a job anywhere. Let me tell you, I hit rock bottom and stayed there for a long time. This place isn’t exactly reputable and it’s got bugger all to do with the exploration of space, but it’s at le
ast allowed me to crawl my way back.” Richardson nodded. It was a story he had heard many times before, often without the happy ending. He left and they made their way back to the helicopter.
“If he did it, he didn’t get much out of it,” Wilson commented as they walked back down the path to the helipad.
“I never thought he did it,” Richardson replied. “He didn’t really have the means, so he wasn’t actually on my list of suspects. I just needed some independent background information. You notice that he didn’t deny that there were tensions among the crew. He just thought that they weren’t relevant. Chang also mentioned tensions. He just didn’t think they were anything unusual. We need to find out what those tensions were.” He stopped and turned around to look at the ugly prefab building. “I also came to let him know that he was in the clear. What happened to him at the inquest would’ve been hard to live with. I don’t even want to think about the stress he must have been under these last few days.”
The Prometheus Incident, A Martian Murder Mystery Page 4
