Seeking Sirius

by Laure Reminick

  “Are you traveling with your friend?”

  “Oh, no. Neither of us expected to find the other on board.” When the servitor-bot wheeled toward them, the woman asked for tea, black, and continued, “He helped me out a couple of times when we were young. And I know him to be the best at what he does.” She leaned back, again stretching her back muscles. “The doctor seems to have no diagnosis. Even implying a patently false accusation of overuse of that silly gas.” She shook her head, “which I never would believe.”

  Alexa wondered what “silly gas.” She reached over to lightly touch the lady’s hand. “I know your friend appreciates your support, Mrs. Holmes-Fong.”

  “Oh please, call me Edith.”

  A screech of frustration erupted from the two-year-old girl at the next table, a moment before she threw her glass on the floor. Orange liquid sprayed everywhere, including onto Alexa. The child remained untouched.

  As Alexa mopped her face and checked her clothes, Edith watched the girl lead her parents on a chase around several tables. After the youngster was corralled and taken away howling, Edith said, “Those two were the ones who left on the Adalans space station to handle an emergency with that little one, and thus how you and I met. Are you dry?”

  Alexa nodded, “I think so. Luckily the color blends with my hair.”

  “And such a beautiful red it is, dear,” said the woman.

  Alexa inclined her head in thanks.

  The two fell silent for a bit. Edith spoke first. “Shocking as the youngsters can be these days, it’s nothing next to what is beginning to show up for the police, according to my husband. Truly, times have changed since I was a child.”

  Alexa smirked a little, despite Edith’s genuine distress. If she were to risk sharing with the woman about her and Rachel and Donny’s situation, she thought Edith would also find it amusing how humans view change generally as bad no matter the century.

  “Your childhood was where?”

  “Many places,” said Edith, “though all on Earth. We started in England, lived in South Africa for seven years, and then settled in North America.”

  “Ah. Not in China, or on TohuMu?”

  “You refer to my last name, I suppose. It is my husband’s name. He is from TohuMu.”

  “You said he considers much has changed?”

  “My dearest Ghengis,” Edith smiled fondly, “is a police detective. We’ve been married for six years, though during this time even I have noticed a change for the worse.” She sat silently for a moment. “So different from when we grew up.”

  “You have siblings?”

  For a moment, Edith seemed to shut down. “One sister. I haven’t seen her in decades.”

  “Excuse me, Madam.” A young man stood in front of the table, hands clasped. He stared at Alexa and then turned to Edith. “The Captain asked if you would come directly, Madam.”

  “The Captain! Oh, dear.” With brow wrinkled and eyes closed, she said, “Thank you. I will go now.”

  A different man came to a crisp halt beside Alexa and said brusquely, “Miss, you must come with me. Forthwith.”

  He stood close and spoke loud. Edith sounded a bit sharp when she responded, “Sergeant Taggert, what is the meaning of your tone? This young woman is a friend of mine and I would welcome her support, but why must she come with us?”

  “Mrs. Holmes-Fong, excuse me. I did not mean she should come with you. As of this moment, she is under arrest. If she has any desire to remain discreet, she should not resist. And walk with me, at once, to my office.”

  Chapter 24

  Rachel and Donny were already in the office when Alexa entered with Sergeant Taggert on her heels. Rachel argued with a tall officer. Considering she wore the teensy hot pink T-shirt and no bra, with black leggings and no shoes, she must have gone to the weightless room this morning. Donny alternately tried to calm her down and stood speechless, enthralled by her chest. The other men in the room also appeared anything but bored. Except for Corky, who leaned against a wall watching the spectacle with arms crossed.

  Alexa came to a sudden stop. “Why are you here, Corky?”

  “Lord Corcoran,” said the sergeant, “do you know this woman?”

  When Corky looked at her his eyes were black, not brown, and the glare was as if a knife hurtled her way.

  “We are acquainted,” he said to the officer. “Though I hesitate to admit a connection to a murderer.”

  Alexa felt herself looking stupidly at him, trying to make sense of the last word.

  “Not proven, Lord Corcoran,” said the sergeant. “In hand, nevertheless.” The officer put Alexa into a chair and turned to address the increasing chaos around Rachel.

  Corcoran’s face was cold. He’d aged decades.

  Rachel’s voice went postal, winding up into one of her routines. Alexa couldn’t find the wherewithal to intervene. Sergeant Taggert sounded like he’d about had enough and was on the verge of something unpleasant.

  Lord Corcoran raised his voice. “Officer, I recommend you search Miss Alden. Look for ties to the pirates, since they are the ones who would want the wormhole pilot dead.”

  There it was again, the stupid-look. Her brain began to wake up when the sergeant turned toward her. Even Rachel lost interest in her drama. Alexa stuttered, “The. The wormhole pilot is. Dead?” She looked to the sergeant. “Is that the person Mrs. Holmes-Fong was with these recent hours?”

  The officer approached, stood over her and pulled her up by taking her elbow. “Details are not your concern, Miss. Go with Ensign Beryl.”

  Probably he meant the large woman approaching. Alexa said, “I don’t understand how you can have any indication that I, or Rachel, or Donny, would be involved in this. What proof do you have to implicate me or them?”

  “For pirates, we do not need proof,” said the sergeant, “merely plausible likelihood.”

  “Okay even considering that, what event or indication would give you a plausible likelihood regarding us?”

  “No record of you, any of you, exists in any database, on any planet,” said Corcoran. “The single situation outside all databases is the pirate’s domain. Quite plausible, isn’t it Sergeant?”

  “But our papers are from Adalans,” said Alexa. “We joined the cruise from there.” She turned to Corcoran, “And you saw us.”

  “Many staff and some officials of Adalans said you showed up a few days before the conference under mysterious circumstances,” he replied. “At this point, Ambassador Callaghan’s standing in the League of Planets is uncertain, considering she blithely awarded identity papers to pirates.”

  Alexa screwed her eyebrows in contempt.

  “Ensign, take Miss Alden into the cell and search thoroughly,” said the sergeant. The woman nodded and reached for Alexa’s arm.

  “What do you think you’re going to find?”

  “Evidence of the substance that killed the poor pilot,” said Corcoran. “Considering a vial was found in your room and traces were on your door, it will probably also be on your hands and clothes.”

  For a moment, all she managed was a blank stare. “And why exactly are you here and involved with this Corky?”

  “I was trying to protect a citizen of Varga. But you were too efficient.”

  Alexa did not resist as the ensign led her toward a door to the left. She continued staring at Corcoran, trying to process the last information and the dramatic change in him.

  “Perhaps she is also carrying a weapon,” said Corcoran, as the door was about to close. “She may have camouflaged one. I recommend we all view what is found.”

  Though the woman appeared intimidating, she proved tactful by taking a stance in front of the door to block the view through the small window. As Alexa took off clothes and jewelry, even the band holding her hair, the ensign gave Alexa a robe, which was a good thing because it was cold.

  The ensign was thorough and pursed her lips when the tests of Alexa’s hands and clothes glowed under a light on a st
and in the corner of the room.

  When the woman asked, “Is there anything else, Miss?” Alexa shook her head. She brought out a flat wand, a bit longer than those used by airport agents, at home. “I must run this sensor, Miss.”

  “How could I possibly be carrying something metal?”

  “Not necessarily metal,” Ensign Beryl said. “Anything that would not naturally be in your body.” Alexa’s eyes widened. She nodded and stood still. After a pass down from head to toe, and up the back from heal to head, the woman said, “You may redress,” and averted her eyes.

  Five minutes later, Sergeant Taggert also looked unhappy when he viewed the results of the tests of Alexa’s hands and clothes. “Positive. You came in contact with the substance.”

  “That’s not conclusive,” protested Alexa. “Someone put the substance in my room, and yes I use the lever to my door.”

  “You handled the pilot’s food tray this morning,” said the sergeant.

  “This morning? No way,” said Alexa.

  “Is this not you?” The sergeant turned and began a playback on the wall screen. The time and date stamp on the image was from very early in the morning, after the two wormhole jumps. Alexa watched herself come into view and smile at the camera. Video-image-Alexa took the tray, looked at the little door to the right of a room door, slid the tray into the cubbyhole, and shut the door.

  “I did help a robot, though morning before last. I don’t remember which corridor.”

  In the video, the robot’s camera eyes remained focused on the door to the room, showing the room number. The view then swiveled to the door across the hallway. An orange hand reached out and rang the bell. Sergeant Taggert stopped the playback.

  “But I helped a purple cart-bot,” said Alexa. “And that’s not my room number.”

  “It is the room number belonging to the wormhole pilot,” said the sergeant. “The pilot died of massive heart failure. And tests are indicating this substance in the food caused the failure. You are plainly implicated.”

  “Alexa, say not one more word,” warned Rachel.

  Lord Corcoran asked, “Where are the items she had on her?”

  The ensign put on the table Alexa’s room key, her hair band, the chain with the small gold heart and her engagement ring, then backed off while looking at Sergeant Taggert.

  Corcoran stated, “That can’t be everything.”

  Alexa narrowed her eyes. “What were you expecting, Corky?” The shortened version of his name seemed to irritate him.

  Corcoran turned to the sergeant. “Are you aware of where she goes?”

  When the sergeant shook his head, Corcoran continued, “To where a pirate who has killed the wormhole pilot would go.” On his tablet, he brought up two photos of Alexa. The first one was her entering through a green door marked Staff Only. The second was a photo appearing to show her entering the one door on the hallway.

  The officer became serious. “Put her in cuffs and take her to the cell.”

  “I didn’t do anything in that hallway,” exclaimed Alexa, “and I didn’t go into that room.”

  Ensign Beryl turned Alexa around, not as gently as before. She brought Alexa’s hands together behind her back and slipped something over her wrists. Impossible to identify metal or plastic binding her hands. The ensign turned her toward the cell door and propelled her at it. “I don’t understand the problem,” said Alexa.

  Corcoran asked, “You want us to believe you just happened to choose this room?”

  “Sergeant Taggert,” came a warbling voice from the door to the office, “what is the meaning of the treatment of this young woman? You can stop right where you are, Ensign, until we shed some light on these proceedings.”

  “Who are you?” challenged Lord Corcoran.

  “I might ask the same of you, young man,” replied Mrs. Holmes-Fong.

  Corky drew himself taller than his actual height. “Lord Corcoran Esteban DeSoto FitzDermot Espinoza, attaché to Prime Minister of Brasileria on Varga.”

  “How nice for you,” replied Mrs. Holmes-Fong, and turned her back on him. “Now. Someone has informed me Miss Alden is somehow under suspicion for a serious crime, if there was one. Sergeant, what possible proof do you have for this allegation?”

  “The most damaging information is a video of the young lady at the door to the wormhole pilot’s room early this morning, interfering with his food tray.”

  “Does she appear to have the ability to be in more than one place at a time?” asked Mrs. Holmes-Fong.

  Looking unhappy, Sergeant Taggert slightly shook his head.

  “Then we have a conundrum. Despite the video provided to you, there are images of her at the same time in a different part of the ship.” Mrs. Holmes-Fong was evidently well acquainted with bringing up her desired view on a screen, because she quickly divided it into four segments. Each segment displayed the early hours of this morning and ran sequential times overlapping the previous video. Alexa vaguely remembered passing several robots in those hallways.

  “I believe these are strong enough to cast a good amount of doubt on the first vid,” said the woman. “What else brings her under suspicion?”

  “It appears she may be connected to the pirates,” said the sergeant.

  Mrs. Holmes-Fong grimaced in disbelief.

  “Lord Corcoran reported to me her citizenship documents were issued recently by the Adalans ambassador, and seem to cover up that these three have no proof of citizenship on any planet. I have observed that people without proper citizenship are generally involved in an illegal situation, as are the pirates.”

  “Perhaps. Or they have been granted new identities because of service to the greater good in some manner,” replied Mrs. Holmes-Fong. “Again, an alternative casting doubt upon the first assumption. Anything else?”

  “She established a base in the pilot room,” said the sergeant, and continued in a somber tone, “the Jump Room.”

  Taken aback, Mrs. Holmes-Fong turned to Alexa.

  “It wasn’t locked,” said Alexa.

  “Alexuhhhhh,” whispered Rachel.

  Mrs. Holmes-Fong pursed her lips. “Did you not notice the space was marked official? Did not everything about the corridor and room indicate it is special purpose and off-limits to passengers?”

  Alexa assumed she had a sheepish look on her face, and realized it would probably be worse than the stupid look.

  Exactly at that moment an alarm, loud and irritating, sounded in the office and the hallway outside the office. Then an announcement blared. “Attention, all guests and all staff. Make immediate time to the sleeping alcove in your rooms and close the safety door. This is not a drill. Enter your sleeping alcove without delay and close its safety door. This is not a drill.” The alert sounded again and presumably the same message began broadcasting in another language.

  Everyone in the office stopped, until Sergeant Taggert boomed, “Take your stations. Keep traffic flowing. Make sure passengers have their doors closed. Then go to your own compartments. Move!” Mrs. Holmes-Fong was the first out the door.

  During the second announcement, Lord Corcoran moved to Alexa. He leaned near and whispered, “Give me the crystal and you may save lives, including your own.”

  This close, Alexa realized why the eyes were black. Pupils dilated completely, overtaking any human color, had become a window onto naked calculation. No light, no warmth, utter coldness.

  “What crystal?”

  Quicker than a rattlesnake, he snagged her chin. As he shook, his grip tightened. No chance to resist. If the intent was hurt and humiliation: success. Cheeks painfully stretched, tears couldn’t be stopped.

  “No games,” he said with zero emotion. “I have waited enough. Where is it?”

  Alexa latched onto a small lick of anger rising from her gut, alongside the terror. Her voice through a squeezed mouth sounded funny. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Abruptly, no air. Windpipe, crushed? Need. Air. She whim
pered. She kicked. Alerts screeched. Grip on her throat tightened.

  “Make it worth my while. Or the Priest will make you a bride, after all.” His lips drew back, like a crevasse in ice. “Of legions.”

  Chapter 25

  A large hand clamped onto Corcoran’s shoulder, pulling him off balance. Rather than easing her attacker’s grip, however, the opposite happened when Corcoran tried to right himself by leveraging off her jaw. Hnnnh.

  At last, blessed release. Corcoran jerked, his eyes darting. A man’s face came into Alexa’s view. Probably attached to the hand.

  “Having a quiet, personal conversation with Miss Alden?” The buck tooth man with the sea captain’s hat barely covering black bushy hair spoke in perfect English. Alexa hadn’t realized his height. Tall enough to lift Corcoran and let him dangle. The buck tooth man asked her, “Did he harm you?”

  Alexa took desperate breaths. Somehow, Corcoran flew through the air and bounced off a wall. One part of her mind watched Corky slide into a heap while another part somewhat recognized buck tooth man’s voice.

  “Hey.” The man reached for the ensign as she rushed toward the door, and indicated Alexa with his head. “Release her bonds.” Ensign Beryl glanced at him before searching for her sergeant. The man said, “She cannot go anywhere and will end up as space dust if caught outside a pod.”

  The woman gave an I-can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this look as she pulled out a three-inch wand and seemed to simply touch what was holding hands and arms behind Alexa’s back. As the ensign then ran from the room Alexa stroked her chin and throat. They would ache for a bit.

  Without warning, the ship shifted to the left. A signal sounded again. Some people in the room kept themselves upright, some didn’t, while Alexa caught herself on a nearby table. The ship settled to level quickly, at which point Donny grabbed Rachel’s hand and headed for the door.