He took in the scene in the large, dimly lit space as he skidded to a halt: Private Fuller standing with the boys, another man he took for a father with an arm around one of the teens, and Zero. Cal decided recriminations and questions could wait.
He strode up to Private Fuller and got her quick and succinct summary of events: boys had found the body; boys had run to their cabins; father of one had accompanied them back to confirm their story; he’d called security; she’d been on duty and took the call; she’d arrived at the scene to find four people. No, she had no idea why the Minder was there. Yes, she’d stopped anyone else entering and called him.
Cal went to the door of the small storage room and gingerly pushed it open with the tip of a pen. There was illumination from the strip lighting that ran through the room and right on into the hold, on twenty-four-seven, albeit very low power when not required. He used the pen once more to tickle over the pad to increase the brightness. The first thing he saw was a microwave oven abandoned on the floor, some candles, pencils, and other bits and pieces of the aborted experiment. He could see the other thing; he just didn’t want to look at it yet. It was too much. He was a hardened soldier, but some things were still beyond conscionable.
Finally, unable to put it off any longer, he glanced up, away quickly, swallowing, then back. A man was suspended across the space from shelving units that lined the walls, his arms stretched out, horizontal to the floor. He had been flayed. It had been done in one piece, something Cal only knew because the figure was holding his own skin. It lay draped over his outstretched arm like an obscene, melted waxen overcoat. Two men made from one. He swallowed audibly again, and that was when he became aware of Zero standing just behind him.
Instead of rounding on him, getting him out of the crime scene, asking him where he’d been and why he’d disobeyed his orders, Cal experienced a bizarre sense of rightness at Zero being there. The very presence of the other man was a balm to his nerves and reassurance that he wasn’t alone, that he could withstand this horror. He relaxed like a child waking from a nightmare to find a parent present, just sitting quietly on the bed, banishing imaginary monsters. There was a real monster on this ship, and he’d never been so grateful for another man’s silent support before.
Feeling quite himself once more, he returned to Fuller and told her to take the two boys back to their cabins and get full statements in the presence of their parents. Eventually, they’d have to go to the medical centre and get checked out by the doc. Physically, they were probably fine, but a chance to talk and get some of the distress out of their systems would likely be a good thing. He was surprised they were as calm as they appeared. They came over as slightly stoned, and he wondered whether they had combined homework with less impressive activities. The Minder was staring intently at them. Perhaps he was wondering about the drugs as well.
When the other four left and he was alone with Zero, he contacted Hunter and told him to meet him down there with a SOCO kit so they could process the scene. Then he called the doc and gave him the good news that he had another autopsy to prepare. When all that was done, he turned to Zero. The other man was incredibly pale. He put a hand on the Minder’s arm lightly. “Okay?”
Zero gave a shaky nod. “You?”
Cal shook out his shoulders a little. “Yeah. I’m fine.” And he was. He glanced back at the obscene display in the tiny room. “I guess you never know how you’re going to react to something like this until it happens. I’ve seen guys in war, you know? Blown up, burnt. But this…” A steely calmness descended upon him once more.
He guessed it was just his training kicking in.
§§§
Zero was exhausted, swaying on his feet. He’d lived through the flaying. He’d then run toward the ripples the agonised consciousness had left, drawn to it inexorably like a homing beacon. He’d found the children, the father, Fuller—the horror. All needing him to help them. And then Cal had arrived, so terrified, so shocked yet trying so hard to hide this behind his professional front. Well, he’d eased him along a little, just as he was carrying the others. Fuck them if they said it was wrong, said it was rape, said it was the most evil thing you could do to another human being. He’d done it, and he’d do it again. He’d slipped in, held back his own trembling disbelief, and projected thoughts of fresh air that he’d never once breathed, sunshine he had never enjoyed on his skin, and grass he had never touched. But it seemed to do the trick.
Working with the boys though had taken it out of him. The delicacy of treading so lightly in such young, impressionable minds was unnatural to him. His own sense of utter repugnance at the scene had seeped around the edges and needed to be continually repressed.
Suddenly, Cal glanced at him and asked, “So, why were you here?”
Zero’s eyes widened. Bushed, he couldn’t think of a lie quick enough. He decided it was time for a little truth—a very tiny sliver. “I think I sensed it.”
“What!”
Zero frowned and pouted, trying to make his confession sound plausible and look distractingly cute at the same time. “We were mind readers, yeah? You’ve…neutered us, but I guess something as loud and extreme as this sort of seeped through? Have you never had that sensation of knowing someone was thinking about you? About to turn up maybe and they do? I guess it was like that. I was just drawn to come here. I wish I hadn’t.”
“The boys were here when you arrived?”
“Yes. Oh, my God, you didn’t think I’d done it, did you?”
§§§
Cal was taken aback by the simple question. Had he? For that one moment when he’d found Zero missing from his cabin and had then gotten the call from Fuller, had he put the two together and made them add up to five? No. He hadn’t. He closed his eyes and remembered the first thought he’d had: utter and complete panic that Fuller had been calling about Zero. That Zero was the body.
He didn’t reply with words. He tugged Zero’s shirt and pulled him closer, eyeing his lips, thinking about the feel of the kiss he was about to plant, and then his lips followed through on desire, found what they sought, and opened Zero up.
He walked them, still kissing, further back into the shadows. It was incredibly inappropriate. It was utterly wrong. It was horrible in the face of what was hanging so close to them on the other side of the thin partition.
But it was completely right at the same time.
§§§
Yet again, Zero didn’t need to be a mind reader to be able to tell what Cal was thinking. Kissing was definitely reassurance he was willing to give. Why did it matter so much whether what he could offer was mental or physical? Why did humans fear the sharing of minds when they were more than willing to share spit? He didn’t understand it. On Mars, children pooled consciousness as a gracious, wonderful gift. The sharing of bodies, as on Earth, was reserved for adults. But it was the joined mind that was seen as the true beauty of life. Yet here, Cal sought for his mouth, sucked his tongue, licked his teeth, but would not have accepted a soft, delicious visitation easing in to amplify and accentuate this delightful activity. He was too tired to think it all through. He could sense Hunter approaching, so he separated their mouths, straightening Cal’s jacket a little where his hands had roamed and scrunched.
Cal, apparently, heard the footfalls and stepped back into the light. He nodded at Hunter then put a hand on his arm before he could enter and experience the horror. “Be prepared. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Hunter gave a nervous bite to his lower lip, and they went in together.
Zero hovered to one side of the storage compartment as the two security officers went about their task of dusting for fingerprints, taking samples and then, eventually, when the doc arrived, cutting the flayed man down. None of them were too sure what to do with his skin. Did it merit its own body bag? Hunter began to giggle and made a joke about stuffing it—Penny for the Guy for Bonfire Night. Cal said he’d put a firework up his 2IC’s arse if he did. The doc had to wipe
his eyes from laughter.
Zero was intrigued to find emotions could be so confused. It was horror and shame and fear and guilt making them laugh. He had never experienced anything like it. He wanted to dive in and roll round, coat himself in the juxtaposition of intent and outcome. There was nothing like this on Mars. It was as if he’d seen a new colour: literally mind blowing. He knew he was keeling over before he could bring his more than capable physical resources to the fore to stop the collapse.
He swayed and then that was all he knew.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Zero came round this time, embarrassingly, in a bed that wasn’t his. To be fair, he had done this once or twice before, but usually after a party and a great deal more alcohol. But now he was sober and in a bed he didn’t recognise—that was much worse. He rolled over and saw Cal sitting in a chair at a computer, frowning. “Hi.”
Cal twisted around. “Hey. How’re you feeling? You fainted again—sorry, passed out to conserve energy. You have a problem with fainting?”
Not until I met you, no. “I think it was…the skin thing?”
Cal just nodded.
“What’s happening?”
“Doc’s doing his autopsy in a few minutes. I wanted to see what I could find on…flaying.”
Zero sat up, glad to see he was still fully dressed. His head hurt as if he’d been drinking, too. It didn’t seem fair. “Can I come to the autopsy?”
Cal turned back to him, regarding him closely. “I would have said yes, but how many times can you hit your head and remain sane?”
“Who said I was sane? I’ll sue.”
Cal smiled, hesitated, then came over and sat next to him on the bed. “It won’t be pretty. I don’t want to be there myself.”
“That’s why I want to be.”
Cal pursed his lips. “This is way out of my league. I don’t know where to start looking for someone who could do this yet walk amongst us as if he were normal.”
“What’s normal?”
“Not this.”
Zero had to agree. He was a little distracted though so he didn’t actually say that out loud. He was studying Cal’s hand as it rested on his thigh. Well, if he had to be honest, he’d started out watching Cal’s thigh, but had then noticed how beautiful his hands were and had begun to focus on that. Then the hand came to rest on his thigh, and it looked even better there.
Z blinked slowly. He eased his mind over to Cal’s, read him and sucked his breath in as if he’d been electrocuted. He grabbed Cal around the back of the neck and kissed him, the hand now moving higher, seeking, finding.
Suddenly, Cal jerked away, the shock as much to Zero’s mind as his cock, which had been straining, eager to the touch.
Cal stood up abruptly. “I’m sorry. This is sick.” He put his palm on Zero’s head. “I didn’t mean the kiss. I meant…”
Zero ducked out from under Cal’s touch and rose too. “It’s okay, okay? I know. Come here.” He pulled gently on Cal’s shirt, just over the ribs, and had a brief awareness of the strong torso before the fabric swung gently away. He kept on tugging until the occupant of the shirt came, too. He folded Cal up in his arms and read one startling thought before he could lock down his own mind: Cal had never been hugged for comfort before. Zero’s mind reeled on the knowledge. He hugged tighter around Cal’s broad back, then lower, around his slim waist. “It’s okay.” He stepped back a little and brushed his fingers over the lieutenant’s cheekbone. “I think wanting to kiss is just a reaction to the horror. You’re so beautiful, Cal, and that’s how humans are meant to be. He just makes everything ugly and sordid, so we’re saying fuck you we are gorgeous. Kissing is better than what he does.”
“I’d like to say it to his face.” Cal eased out of the embrace and sat heavily in his computer chair, gazing up at Zero. “Can I ask you something?”
Zero hesitated. “I guess.”
Cal concentrated on his boots, frowning. “Do you think torture can ever be justified?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it. I guess not. Maybe.”
“What if someone had taken Mina, and the only way to find her before it was too late was to get the guy who took her to tell you where she was?”
Zero sat on the bed. “I don’t know. I don’t think hypotheticals are really useful because they are just that—supposition. Why are you asking me this?”
Cal raised his eyes. “I was thinking about what you said: about sensing the murderer. What if you deliberately tried to…mind read him?” He lowered his gaze once more as if he’d asked Zero to masturbate in public.
Zero couldn’t look away. He was almost paralysed by the hypocrisy. “You want me to use my mind-reading ability? The ability you’ve just fucking castrated?” Cal didn’t reply, so Zero continued, “And then what? Hey, how’s this for a hypothetical, as you seem to like them so much. What if this implant thingy didn’t work? What if I was faking it, and I really could still read minds? What if I knew exactly who the killer was? Would you want to know? Would you? And then what, Cal? After I’d raped the people on this ship to discover it. Would you say, hey, you just carry on, buddy, use those abilities whenever you like, ’cus raping people’s minds is, like, really cool and all for the good? I don’t fucking think so. You’d treat me like you’ve treated my people for the last three hundred years. You’d set me adrift on a sterile fucking dying colony to rot out my existence, because I wanted to try and help you, because I was falling in…” Cal was staring at him. Zero swallowed and finished lamely, “So, it’s just as well the implant is fully functional then.”
Cal’s comms link activated. He answered it automatically, his eyes never leaving Zero’s, and a voice barked out, “Lieutenant Hartland? This is the captain. The bridge if you please. Now.”
Cal acknowledged the call and rose.
He said thoughtfully to Zero as he passed, “Go back to your cabin and stay there. And, Commander Zero? That’s an order, yeah?” He pursed his lips for a moment then added, “I think we need to talk. Later.”
§§§
Cal made his way to the bridge, fairly certain he knew what the captain wanted to speak with him about. After the first murder, they’d agreed: no turning back. But Cal had assured him—believing this himself—that it had been a one-off terrible event. Also, that he’d have the killer in custody very soon—that part he hadn’t been so sure about, but he’d managed to convince the captain otherwise.
Now, there was a second body.
Did this count as a serial killing?
The captain was waiting in his briefing room, and Cal clocked the tension on the bridge as he crossed over to it and shut the door behind him. He sat down without waiting to be asked.
Laskar was looking older. He was drinking and passed Cal a glass and the bottle. Cal poured himself a measure and swallowed some, glad to see his hand was steady.
“What do you think, Cal?” The man’s tone was friendly, but Cal wasn’t entirely taken in. If he messed this up, he was under no illusions whose career would suffer most. “Do I need to turn this damn ship around and head for home? We will waste this alignment with Titan.”
Cal took the excuse of sampling his drink once more to consider his reply. He almost surprised himself when he said, “I can find this guy, sir. I just need a little more time.”
“How much time?”
Shit, how long was a piece of string? “Give me until the end of this week, sir.”
“What do you need from me?”
Cal welcomed a surge of renewed optimism. “I want all the passenger bios from Titan in one send. I can’t be requesting them individually and waiting.”
“Done. I’ll get the first officer onto it.”
“I need a curfew—lockdown on all but essential personnel. Everyone else stays in their cabins except for rostered chow times.”
Lasker considered him for a minute then said bluntly, “It’s Halloween in a few days, Lieutenant. The biggest fucking shindig in the whole damn So
l Corp calendar. How you gonna explain cancelling that to everyone? You want people going Sandman on this damn ship?”
Cal grimaced and fished out his tablet. He brought up some of the images he’d taken of the flayed man and then held them out. “I think we’ve already got someone gone Sandman, sir. You could maybe show them this if they object to having their damn party ruined.”
Laskar’s eyes flicked briefly to the pictures. Cal frowned for a moment at the lack of shock he saw in the other man’s expression.
He didn’t have time to question it though. He had three days left.
But even with a killer on the loose, he had something even more urgent to investigate.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Later came for Zero when Cal arrived at his cabin with the implant-testing device.
It was embarrassing now for both of them, but Cal seemed well able to keep his professional demeanour in place as he ran the machine over the silver disc. Zero projected a positive reading whilst appearing to stare nonchalantly out of the window.
Cal nodded, apparently pleased with the reading.
“Okay. Look, I have to go. Stay in your cabin.”
“But I want to—”
§§§
Cal was already heading to the door and didn’t turn back to hear what Zero wanted. Five minutes later, he was in the small medical centre. He eyed the doc for a while as he was inputting some data into a computer, two body bags prominent on the tables. “Doc, got a minute?”
The doctor had been the only person Cal could think of he could trust with this, given his own personal entanglement.
He held up the implant-testing device. “I’ve just scanned the Minder, Zero, the one who was in here earlier?” The doctor nodded and sat, waving for Cal to do the same.
Seasons of Murder: In the Shadow of This Red Rock Page 8
