The Cronian Incident (The Formist Book 1)

by Matthew Williams

  In each case, the tests came back in the green, with biomarkers all in the accepted range. This might have seemed like a red herring, were it not for two glaring facts.

  On the one hand, there was the fact that in the years since the arrival of the first colonists, not a single epidemic had been triggered through extra-terrestrial organisms. On the other, there was the fact that even if all the ice and hydrocarbons they were hauling back from the outer Solar System were tainted, there were protocols in place which would ensure they were sterilized before being added to the Martian biosphere.

  So why all the concern and precautions? Why did it need to be done at the source?

  Ward imagined Amaru coming up with an explanation that would seem rational on the surface. Something about the peace of mind of the Martian people, not wanting to think foreign germs were being added into the environment. He also imagined her saying it was as much about PR as it was about the appearance of safety.

  He certainly understood that for many Martians, the entire idea of altering the planet seemed like a needless proposition. With cities like Pavonopolis, Ilia, Varāhamihira, Huǒxīng and Anjuman dotting the surface, where greenspace was plentiful and the domes were large enough to accommodate their own atmospheres, there simply wasn’t much of a reason to create the “Martian Garden” anymore.

  And, in the end, everything they harvested was going to be dumped into an atmosphere that was going to become a toxic soup for the next few generations; the odds any exotic germs would survive to create a pandemic was ridiculously remote.

  Still, it didn’t make sense that the Chandrasekhars were being so cautious. He would have thought they would have dedicated their energy to skirting the interplanetary rules, not taking extra care to abide by them. He certainly didn’t think Emile and his people were above a few well-placed bribes to ensure the local authorities were more compliant.

  What was he really looking for? And was Amaru aware of it, or was she merely playing an innocent part? Could Lee and Amaru have been an item, to boot? What little he had come to know about her told him there was no way she was a pawn in this. She was too smart to be left in the dark, and she had too much integrity to let herself be used.

  Fuck, he thought. Back to square one.

  The hypertrain’s automated system chimed and announced their upcoming stop. Ward’s ears pricked up as he realized he was back at his lodgings, and not a moment too soon. The day had been long and his mind was incredibly tired. Pulling himself to his feet, he set his bad leg down again, and got only a mild tingling sensation.

  His eyes drifted to the nearest column, where the stop was listed on an illuminated sign.

  4G.

  Ward felt a sudden jolt. He was two stops away from where it had all gone down, and here he was, about to disembark. He quickly sat back down. Two more stops, and he would find himself at ground zero, at a time of night when it was likely to be all but deserted. The symmetry seemed too perfect to ignore. Were Ward the type, he might have thought some sort of cosmic convergence was taking place.

  Settling in as the train began to move again, Ward called up an overlay and put in a call to Boyagan. This was something he needed the AD to hear, and hopefully he would be in a better mood this time.

  #

  The air was cold and had a distinct metal tang. There was the sound of wind rushing through the tunnel, and the faint humming of the induction rails as they cooled down. Ward paced along the length of the platform, marking the spot where the Gendarmerie had detected the elevated ozone trace. He also played back the footage of Lee’s kidnapping, and plotted out a trail showing his movements with bright neon lines.

  Ward could only account for what was captured by the camera mounted high on the platform’s wall. All told, between the spot where Lee came into frame, was taken down, and then was carried away, there was a good twenty meters of movement. By plotting it all out, he hoped to get some indication of where the attackers may have come from, or maybe where Lee was taken. But nothing obvious was jumping out at him, and he felt his frustration building.

  And at any moment, Boyagan would be on the line with him. The Gendarmerie had to put in a call to his private quarters, as he had already gone home for the night. Whatever hopes Ward had of catching him in a good mood were entirely dashed.

  You wanted perspective, he thought. Better come up with something soon.

  He looked back at the pattern indicated on the ground. The lines all converged like a spindly creature. They were more intensely colored in the center, where Lee had fallen, and became thin and wispy as they moved away from one central spot. Only at that point was anything certain. A man who was visible and caught on camera stood, fell, and then was carried. Beyond the point where he left the frame, nothing was certain.

  Why that way? Ward wondered. Somehow, he had taken it for granted the perpetrators would carry Lee down the tunnel. But what was in that direction? Lee showed up nowhere else on the colony’s surveillance, which meant they didn’t take him aboard another hypertrain. The only alternative was . . .

  The Gendarmerie came back on the line. “AD Boyagan for you, sir.”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Boyagan started with a gruff sigh. Clearly, he had been asleep when the call came. “Ward, what the fuck do you want?”

  “Sorry to disturb you, Assistant Director. I found myself on the transit line platform where Lee was taken. I was poking around to see if I came up with anything new.”

  Boyagan waited for a moment. “And?”

  Ward took a deep breath and started slowly. “Well, there’s only the one option. The attackers came at Lee from behind and took him down when he was on the verge of boarding the train. Nothing new there, but they had to be able to enter the platform without getting detected, too. Which means they must have suited up elsewhere and got in, or avoided the cameras here long enough to get into the suits, and then made their move.”

  Boyagan sounded even more annoyed when he spoke again. “I’m waiting for you to tell me something new, Ward!”

  Ward turned around and looked back to where the camera was. Setting his sights lower, he noted the alcoves against the wall. They were perfect hiding places for someone looking to sneak out from the shadows. Hardly necessary when you had a stealth field, but if the perps had been looking for a place to slip out of their day clothes.

  “Hang on,” he said, running to the closest alcove. There was nothing back there of interest. Just a solid wall of spray rock between metal beams. He started pacing between them, issuing a few words to Boyagan to make sure he stayed on the line.

  “I’m looking at the recesses on the platform here, where the camera doesn’t cover. This would have been a good place for the kidnappers to stay until they made their move, but . . .”

  Boyagan didn’t wait this time. “But what?”

  “Maintenance,” Ward whispered. Looking to his far left, he spotted the door at the end of the platform, nestled right into the corner. He looked back to the camera above, noted it didn’t pan far enough to cover that area.

  “What was that?” came the sound of Boyagan’s irritated voice.

  “Boyagan, I think I got something. The maintenance tunnels down here. They require special access keys, yes?”

  “The maintenance tunnels? Yes, only crews have access to them –”

  “And where do they go to?”

  Boyagan scoffed. “I . . . I don’t have a schematic in front of me, Ward. I can’t say off the top of my head.”

  “Right,” Ward said, laughing inwardly. He had become so used to overlays and augments, he had forgotten it wasn’t a simple matter for Boyagan to pull one up. This would require another visit to the Gendarmerie, and some additional authorizations.

  “Mr. Ward, we already interviewed all the transit workers who were on duty that night. Maintenance logs didn’t show anyone on duty in that section. And none of them had any connections to this crime that we found.”

  “No, no, i
t’s not that, I just . . .” Ward began. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this, so it was difficult to explain right now. “Listen, how long would it take to get copies of the colony’s structural plans? I’m thinking whoever the perpetrators were, they got into the maintenance tunnels and used them to sneak onto the platform. I’m thinking they used the same means to get Lee wherever they took him. It’s the only way they might make sure he disappeared from any of the colony’s tracking devices, right?”

  “Yes,” Boyagan said, sounding mildly intrigued. “Still, if anyone used the tunnels, there would have been some note of it in the logs.”

  “And there wasn’t, I take it?” Boyagan answered in the affirmative again. “But those logs could be faked by someone with access, right?”

  Boyagan sighed. “Again, there was nothing to indicate any transit workers were involved in this, Ward.”

  “Yes, fine. Let’s not go over that again. The point is, whoever did this had to know their stealth fields would only work to a point. They had to have an extraction plan that would let them get out of Huygens with Lee without showing up on any other monitors. How else might they do this without using the tunnel system?”

  Boyagan grunted favorably. “I can’t think of any, that’s for sure.”

  “Right and I think if we go over those plans, we might be able to narrow down what path they might have taken. Maybe find some trail we can pick up.”

  Another pause as Boyagan thought it over at last. He eventually muttered his assent. “Yeah, maybe.”

  Ward suppressed the desire to holler victoriously. “When can we get started on that?”

  “Well, if I put in a call to the Council office tomorrow, they could get us those plans in a few hours, tops. The plans themselves are easy to call up, it’s the bureaucratic process that takes time.”

  Ward nodded inwardly. That would certainly do. “What’s your day look like tomorrow?”

  Boyagan grumbled. Once again, he was unable to simply call it up on an overlay. It took a few seconds before he could answer. He, no doubt, had to consult some kind of digital assistant to see his schedule.

  “I think I might have some time after eleven hundred.”

  Ward nodded again. “Great! How about I come by and we see if we can’t get a look at those plans? Maybe we can even come up with a theory of where the perps came and went from?”

  Boyagan sighed again. His voice now sounded like it was full of grudging assent.

  “All right, but listen. I’m not sure what you’re hoping to find here. Those tunnels aren’t exactly conducive to forensics. They’re heavily pressurized, hot as hell. They’re basically a steam bath. Nothing survives in there long. The perps did an excellent job masking themselves, remember?”

  “What are you saying? You didn’t check them?”

  “Of course we did!” Boyagan came back, very annoyed. “We had our techs survey the tunnel there, like everywhere else on the platform. Biometric scanners didn’t pick up a thing inside. And the techs were overwhelmed with the number of samples found on the platform itself. We had to prioritize.”

  “I see,” Ward replied. It seemed pointless to press the issue; Boyagan was hardly in the mood to discuss the details of his investigation any further. Ward knew pressing him on it would only produce another clash of cultures. He didn’t want to fall into the trap of skepticism coming across as judgement or arrogance.

  “Well, I still think the schematics could tell us something,” Ward said finally. “Why don’t we pick this up tomorrow? Eleven hundred hours?”

  Boyagan agreed. “Sure, come on in. Just don’t get your hopes up.”

  “See you in the morning then. Good night, sir.”

  Ward terminated the call and looked back at the maintenance door. He wondered how hard it would be to surpass the security locks on this or any other of the doors. It wouldn’t be difficult for someone so equipped. The types of biometric keys used on Huygens and other Outer Worlds were dangerously out of date by Extro standards. And they already knew the perpetrators were well-outfitted.

  But for someone local, all they would really need was a passable fake, or copies of the real ones. Finch had all but confessed someone known to her organization was responsible for the kidnapping. How hard would it have been for them to make a deal with the transit workers?

  These were things he needed to raise at tomorrow’s meeting with a gentler hand than normal. If he pressed too hard or suggested anything too firmly, the AD would take offense. There was a fine line between asking the obvious and implying the local Gendarmerie weren’t doing their job.

  He drew in a deep breath, savoring the chilly air for any traces of a hint of ozone. It was insane to think it might still be here, but he imagined it all the same.

  A faint trace. A fool’s hope. What else did he have at this point?

  Twenty-Eight

  It was a little odd, staring at a two-dimensional layout. Floor plans on top of floor plans, features overlaid on other features. Luckily, wherever the clutter became too much and Ward needed to isolate something, Boyagan would simply swipe a layer out of the way. It did seem old-fashioned, going through architectural plans instead of simply downloading them directly into his cortex. Oddly, though, Ward found it satisfying, like old-fashioned inspector work.

  He stopped Boyagan when they got to what he wanted.

  “There! That maintenance tunnel between sections four-G and five.” He tapped the screen, causing it to magnify slightly. The tunnel was small, relative to rest of the plan, and Boyagan had to squint to discern it.

  “I see what you mean. It’s a bit of a hike from the platform where Lee was abducted.”

  “True. They would have to carry him a few hundred meters. Still, not something four people would have too much trouble with.”

  Boyagan put a finger to his lips and tapped at them, thoughtfully. “And the transit line was shut down for the night at that point. It’s not like their path would have been obstructed.”

  Ward nodded, directing his eyes along the path leading away from transit stop 3G. It ended abruptly at the edge of the frame. “Can you zoom out and follow the path of this tunnel?”

  Boyagan obliged him, switching to another grid of the plan. The tunnel was now the central feature, resembling a spidery formation stretching out in all directions. Ward examined the symbols around it and the directions the tunnels went. Ultimately, they all terminated at a dead end or in a small rectangle indicating a specialized room.

  “This tunnel veers south from the transit line and has multiple side tunnels,” he said, indicating the main one. “I see heating conduits, atmosphere scrubbers, and water mains.”

  “All standard stuff, really. Most of the maintenance tunnels in the transit network are where engineers routed the colony’s utility pipes.”

  “And they go nowhere?”

  “Essentially.” Boyagan waved his hand, calling up the map of the next level. “The only real purpose some of these tunnels had was to route utility lines underground. Once they reach their corresponding structures above them, they ended.”

  Ward propped one of his elbows on the display table and rested his head against his hand. As leads went, this wasn’t working out too well. But there seemed little in the way of alternatives. Based on the security footage, this was the path the perpetrators took. And unless they were willing to commit to walking for several kilometers – while laden with an unconscious man – this route was the only option open to them.

  “Anything else you can tell me about these tunnels? Is there any way someone could slip out through them?”

  “Don’t see how,” said Boyagan. “They were carved directly from the ice, like everything else built under the surface. Miners went in, hollowed out where they needed to, and covered everything with spray rock. Where they end, they end.”

  “Dammit, I really thought we had something.”

  “Yeah, I did too. Kind of sorry to see it didn’t pan out.”

>   Ward looked up at Boyagan. Was that admission he heard in the man’s voice? He had gone up against his share of local authorities in the past who had chafed from the burden of jurisdiction. But nothing made investigators bond more than the chance to do some investigating.

  It was almost a shame he couldn’t ask him to tag along, chase down more leads. But he was freelancing now. Asking for cooperation beyond sharing information was a little outside his range of powers.

  Ward sighed and looked back at the plans. This time around, he wasn’t getting the feeling that came from reaching a dead end. Something more had to be here, it simply wasn’t apparent from the map. They had served their purpose up to this point, but he now knew where he needed to go.

  “I guess we’re done with this for now. Thanks for the help.”

  “So, what’s next?”

  Ward stood up from the table and shrugged. “I promised the doctor an update. I should probably talk to her before I make my next move. Can I get a copy of these plans?”

  “Sure, I can send them along to your hotel, same as the case files. Any idea what your next move is?”

  “Can’t be sure,” Ward said. “Something will come to me.”

  Ward issued a mock salute and turned to leave. He felt Boyagan’s narrowing eyes on his back. He was almost out of the room when the AD asked.

  “You’re going down there, aren’t you?”

  Ward stopped. “Can you think of a reason why I shouldn’t?”

  Boyagan scoffed and shook his head. “Plenty. Though I imagine none of them would convince you. You really set on this idea of yours?”

  Ward thought over the ways in which he could answer that question. There seemed only one way that was honest, and showed the Gendarmerie the respect he felt they were owed.