by Gary Starta
The scientist’s bodies could only now respond to the stimuli created by their artificial brain. This stimuli turned their natural platonic feelings of mutual respect for each other into a frothing wave of lust.
Before Karen could take her first sip of tea, Joyce had planted a firm kiss on her mouth. Hiroshi’s initial look of surprise quickly faded into an expression of desire. She then cupped Joyce’s face in her hands and stared passionately into her eyes. After a sensuous minute, Karen allowed her mouth to fully encompass the lips of her new lover. In another minute, the two were rolling about on the floor. Over in his cage, Ruby the bug became a witness to this amorous act. One of his antennae was raised at a crooked angle as if to indicate a state of confusion. This kind of state was exactly what Mikola Petrovsky hoped to establish.
Chapter 14: Measure of a Man
A muffled thud permeated the crime lab’s quiet glass-encased room. The holographic model of Bob Schmitt’s skull had just sustained a blow as part of a lab experiment. Sandra Morton had commanded a robotic arm to pummel the holographic representation with the hammer that was believed to have killed the space tech. The blow produced a nasty gash on the back of the artificial head. Thanks to holographic technology, the head not only mimicked the resulting wound but also began to bleed artificial blood. The size and formation of the wound would give the CSI’s an accurate representation of the damage which was inflicted upon Bob. Morton would now compare the damage to the model’s cranium with Schmitt’s wound. An identical match would prove the sound heard on Jeff Turner’s data net was the audio recording of a murder.
Morton had programmed the hammer to strike a blow matching the force of the hit heard on the digital tape. The CSI accomplished this task with the help of a unit known as a trauma gage. The gage determined a mass and distance equation from the digital recording and passed this information along to the robotic arm. The arm was then equipped to reproduce a blow with the same force used in the murder. The robotic limb in turn struck the holographic head which had utilized a DNA sample to match the exact geometric dimensions of Schmitt’s cranium. It was now up to technology to determine if the data net recording had actually captured the sound of homicide.
Morton and Benson paced the small confines of the lab nervously awaiting the final results. The pair were also anxiously waiting for an electronic warrant to be downloaded into their computers. The warrant would allow search and seizure of articles in Jeff Turner’s apartment. Detective Simms based his request for the seizure upon the footprint findings at Schmitt’s and Paterson’s apartments. The prints were identical to the boots Turner was wearing upon his arrest. However, Turner’s attorney still vehemently argued that a boot print match was not sufficient grounds to hold his client. But thanks to Andrea Aiken’s evacuation of the crime lab, the attorney’s calls fell on deaf ears. This additional time was what the CSI’s desperately needed to evaluate the evidence they had been gathering.
The chime on Samuel Benson’s data net could not have sounded any quicker for the CSI’s who had finally succumbed to clock watching. Benson was actually happy to hear the sound of Detective Simm’s voice as he connected the transmission. “The warrant is on its way,” Simms reported. “And I’ve got some more news for you, Samuel,” Simms added in a condescending know-it-all tone of voice. “Turner’s girlfriend Felicia Jenkins has reported our new suspect as a missing person. The Reston police department happily informed Ms. Jenkins that her boyfriend only seems to be missing his brain cells and that he’s being held in connection to two murders. I don’t believe Jenkins is an accomplice as she genuinely seems to exude ignorance. She told the police that all Turner left her was a pack of his artificial cigarettes. She suspected that Jeff was trying to evade her to avoid sharing his inheritance money. Jenkins seems to be under the impression that Turner’s parents are dead. However, I’ve already verified that the parents are alive and well to bear witness to their son’s disgrace. Well, I’ve got to get back to the great outdoors and attend to your dog. We’re still hunting for the buried treasure. For your sake Benson, it had better be equivalent to all the gold at Fort Knox.”
Simms then disconnected the call abruptly but Samuel was too lost in thought to acknowledge the detective’s rudeness. All Benson could mutter was “artificial tobacco.” He quickly placed a call to the Reston police requesting that they confiscate the cigarette pack from Turner’s girlfriend. The confused officer at the station repeated Benson’s request to make sure he had it right. “You mean we should let the girl go and keep the cigarette pack?” the local cop asked as though he had never been part of an investigation before. Benson quietly responded to the officer that there was precious little time to waste repeating orders. He then terminated the call before his anger could get the best of him.
Before Sandra could say a word, Benson motioned for her to grab her jacket. “We’ve got to get to Turner’s residence ASAP.”
As the pair took the skies in the air coach, Benson explained that he had read a forensic article about the residual effects of artificial tobacco. “If I’m correct, the smoker of this type of cigarette will leave an invisible substance on objects during exhalation. The smoke inhaled from artificial tobacco becomes contained in a gelatinous like material that blocks it from settling in the air sacs of the lungs. The substance nicotine oxide in combination with the liquid agent is then expelled from the body in large quantities to keep the smoker’s respiratory system clean. This substance can generally be detected on the smoker’s personal effects. The best thing about this residue is that it’s hard to wipe off.”
“So you’re thinking it may be on the hammer,” Sandra pointed out.
“Better yet, I’m hoping its on the knife used to kill Paterson. Maybe Turner has knives in his residence that match the murder weapon. Either way, we’ll soon find out.”
“Smoking is still a nasty habit no matter how you do it,” Morton commented.
“Hopefully it’s not only nasty to the smoker—but also to the murderer,” Benson added.
Chapter 15: Match Maker
Mikola Petrovsky’s plan to divide and conquer was working quite well. Aaron Starkman could still not get over his dream in which he was being hunted down as an android. The former teacher knew all too well that history has a funny way of repeating itself. And for this very reason, his mind often became filled with paranoid thoughts. His dream could have very well given him a dismal glimpse of the future. Aaron wondered why he could remember every single detail of this particular dream so vividly. He had not remembered any other dream so clearly. In fact, he found it peculiar that he could not recall any other dreams invading his nightly sleep for several months. Furthermore, the villain in this dream theater was none other than Mikola Petrovsky. It made perfect sense to Aaron that Petrovsky would be leading the charge to fight infinite diversity. Starkman also found it alarming that he had also experienced a short term memory loss in his dream, just like he did several months ago.
But no matter how Aaron was shaken by his dream, the scientist knew he could not share his fears with his wife. Joyce had already downplayed his nightmare as being simply a dream. She did not buy into dream analysis and saw it only as a means for slick psychologists to turn a fast buck. Her immediate judgment of this situation made Aaron feel a bit slighted. Aaron had always been there emotionally for Joyce. The scientist had never experienced the slightest hint of dissension in his marriage of 18 years but now its bitter taste had permeated his mouth. Aaron also felt slightly embarrassed to admit to himself that Joyce had taken such solace in Ruby the bug and her flower garden. Maybe it was his fault, he reconsidered. Aaron had pushed Joyce very hard to accept the android representation of James. “This may have been even harder on her than I originally thought. She may feel she can no longer confide in me.”
Aaron also knew Joyce had become very friendly with Karen Hiroshi since the radiation poisoning. He had mistakenly discovered copy of a letter his wife had addressed to Hiroshi several mont
hs before they underwent their operations. The letter revealed that Joyce held Karen in very high regard. The more he thought about this, the more he found his soul feeling the green tinge of envy. “Why should I also be so hard on myself,” he then thought bitterly. I’m only human,” he pondered in an attempt to console himself.
The small bit of humanity that Joyce still held onto was also quite troubled unbeknown to Aaron. It only took a few hours for Joyce to feel guilt ridden from sharing physical pleasure with Karen Hiroshi.
“I have betrayed my husband. How can I ever tell him about my affair with Karen? I can barely admit to myself that I engaged in such enigmatic behavior. I’ve never given in to amoral behavior before—so why now?”
Joyce’s distress over her tryst with Hiroshi had already interfered with her obligations to the civilians. Joyce skipped meeting the new neighbors as she was just too embarrassed to face them or Karen. The embarrassment over what she termed “her weakness” entirely took control over her body as she felt too feeble to rise from her bed.
Mikola Petrovsky took Joyce’s absence at the arrival celebration as evidence that his mind manipulation had been successful. However, the hate-filled engineer found he could not reap a sufficient amount of satisfaction from his devious actions. Mikola was much like a drug addict in that the high he experienced from his unspeakable behavior did not last long. In fact, Petrovsky desperately needed another fix to appease the organic portion of his brain. If the android body that housed Mikola’s engrams had been created with a soul, it now had been tarnished with the dirt of Petrovsky’s deceit and loathing. Mikola would never admit to himself that he held humanity in the same contempt as he did the robots. Now that he consisted of both organic and artificial materials, there was plenty of hate to go around.
After the jubilation of the Terran’s Ark landing had subsided, Mikola conspired to get back to work on his android colleagues. His next plan was to mess with the minds of Akira Hiroshi and Anna Ciprelli. Mikola remembered how Peter Ciprelli longed for Karen Hiroshi. Maybe it was time he avenged Akira and Anna for the “unbecoming behavior” of their spouses, Mikola theorized. However, any sane person would be able to ascertain that Petrovsky cared less about righting the wrongs of his associates. The future romance of Dr. Hiroshi and Anna Ciprelli would not be a match made in Heaven.
Chapter 16: Not the Sharpest Knife
Detective George Valentino found Jeff Turner had come into quite a bit of money shortly after the space tech murders. The 27 year old investigator also confirmed that Jeff was not working on company time when he made his alleged delivery to Bob Schmitt’s apartment complex. The walls were beginning to crash down around the greedy courier thanks to the electronic warrant which allowed police to subpoena bank and work records. These records now confirmed that Turner had not come into his claimed inheritance.
Attorney Ezekiel Horowitz knew things were not looking good for his client Jeff Turner. Although disclosure of evidence linking Turner with the murder weapons had not been disclosed as yet, the defense lawyer could see that police were now finding holes in his client’s story. The angry lawyer warned a flippant Turner that his initial statements to police were now coming back to bite him in the ass. Horowitz did not want to be around when this happened; but the seedy lawyer might risk an unwanted investigation into his own affairs if he suddenly quit the case. Horowitz became further horrified when he found out Turner’s girlfriend was Felicia Jenkins. Ezekiel had defended her successfully a few years back on solicitation charges involving W.A.A. President Kenneth Copperfield. (Horowitz reveled in pronouncing Kenny Copperfield like Can-I-Cop-A-Feel during the trial). Felicia Jenkin’s statements to Reston police had become public record. Her incoherent ramblings had included such detrimental and damning remarks as “I am the real woman who men kill for—not Dana Jackson” and “I hope you lock that bastard Turner up and throw away the key.”
The warrant had also allowed investigators to confiscate personal belongings deemed pertinent to the investigation. Samuel Benson and Sandra Morton believed a draw full of carving knives were very pertinent to the investigation. CSI Benson immediately went to Turner’s kitchen to look for any and all sharp objects upon entering the apartment. Much to the chagrin of her younger partner, Sandra could not help commenting that Turner’s penchant for wiping things clean was certainly not practiced on a frequent basis in his living quarters. Morton stopped to notice that clothes had been strewn on the floor and more importantly to the investigation—the trash converter was overflowing with rubbish. “Ah, and this adds a nice touch to house,” Sandra sarcastically commented while holding up a video game entitled: Kill or Be Killed. “He certainly has a penchant for making things easy for us,” Morton quipped.
Sandra was not certain that Benson had heard her assessments as he was busy whipping on a pair of latex gloves. Samuel then started rummaging through several kitchen drawers. The clatter of metal upon metal was enough to wake the dead, Sandra thought to herself while Benson clumsily rattled through Turner’s silverware.
The din finally came to a halt when Samuel pulled a knife out of the drawer with a relevance only rivaled by Arthur’s extraction of Excalibur from the stone.
But Benson only held the knife up into the air for a brief instant before resuming the hunt. He pulled four more identical knives from the drawer which all matched the weapon that was used to kill Chuck Paterson.
“Although I don’t want our case to rely upon matching knives, I can freely admit I am quite happy these knives seem to prove Turner took the murder weapon from his own kitchen. Now we have to get to these to the lab and test for nicotine oxidation.”
“Hold on, Sam. We may find some compelling evidence in the trash converter.” Sandra then blocked her nose and reached into the waste receptacle. She then withdrew a shiny, metallic device which Benson recognized as a men’s electric shaver.
“I’ll bet we can date the contents of this razor to determine when Turner shaved off his beard. Detective Simm’s report noted that the elderly woman at Schmitt’s apartment had called him back when she remembered the courier she had seen on her view screen had sported an unkempt beard,” Morton hypothesized.
The CSI’s then processed the remainder of the apartment in record time as they knew more lab work awaited them.
Chapter 17: Love Hurts
Anna Ciprelli woke from her sleep with a start. She could feel a slight twinge emanating from one side of her head. It would be a just a few more minutes before daylight commenced upon the stretch of land the scientists had lived upon for more than five years. That land now bore the name of Reliance Point. But for the scientists—the name of Hell Town may have been more appropriate. Anna felt like she could not rely upon anything at this juncture. Ciprelli began to rub her woozy head in her pitch dark room as she pondered making an emergency call to Dr. Hiroshi. As usual, Peter was not by her side. He probably was up all night drawing architectural plans for a new building. The finishing touches on Peter’s municipal center had been completed just in time for the arrival of the civilians.
Anna suddenly felt a sudden burst of anger surge through her veins. She had never been bothered before by Peter’s independent nature. But now she felt dazed and confused and would have benefited from his bedside consultation. “Oh well,” she thought, “I guess I’ll just have to learn to rely upon others from now on.”
Anna had quietly lived with the knowledge that Peter and Karen Hiroshi had had a thing for each other. The day the scientists found out they were suffering from radiation poison was the day Anna’s worst fears were finally confirmed. She saw how the pair eyed each other at the conference table that day and how they eagerly volunteered to work on joint projects. Anna also remembered how her face flushed when Mikola alluded to their relationship at that meeting. “That day which was well over a year ago now feels like only yesterday,” Anna thought. “Why are these thoughts suddenly dominating my mind?” she asked. The answer was blowing in the wind to quote an anci
ent Earth song. Ciprelli had no clue why she suddenly felt she had to act upon these emotions. She did not know the model on her night table had penetrated her artificial brain a mere few hours ago. The only being who knew why Anna was so antsy was Mikola Petrovsky.
However, Petrovsky’s dream works were not confined to Anna that night. The Hiroshi household was also invaded by thought control. This time Dr. Akira Hiroshi was the recipient of unwanted desires and illogical thought patterns.
The doctor had fantasized during his dream state about making love to Anna Ciprelli. He found this notion to be inconceivable. He had a beautiful young wife in Karen readily available at his bedside. Akira had foolishly ignored his desirable wife while she spent more and more time away from the house. He was aware that she wanted to pursue passion elsewhere and he quietly acknowledged this fact when the scientists became ill from the radiation poisoning. The conscientious doctor reasoned that he had to ignore the problem at that time or the cure for their illness could be jeopardized. Akira could still not quite remember how he and Adrian McElroy had conquered the disease; but this was all part of his short term memory loss, he had reasoned. Now that the scientists’ lives were out of danger, he could focus on his marriage. “Why am I compelled to find a cure for my marriage, like it was some kind of virus?” Hiroshi asked himself. He pondered this dilemma for a few minutes when his train of thought was interrupted by an incoming transmission.
The doctor was both shocked and pleased that Anna Ciprelli’s face was now on his monitor. “Sure I can see you, Anna. Come over right away,” he instructed her.
In a few hours, Akira Hiroshi was not trying to find a cure for either a disease or his marriage. Writhing around on an examination table, Anna Ciprelli and the doctor made passionate love.
