It was the peace dividend that the space stations weren’t fortresses combined with the short response time for ships with Gate drives. They could be almost anywhere within minutes. Add that to Ted’s Etheric-powered communication system, and throughout the galaxy, help was nearby, no matter how many light years separated the help from the distressed.
“In here.” J.R. pointed to the next main area. The second they stepped through, a shadow jumped to its feet and bolted. “Get him!”
J.R. wasn’t pleased with the non-paying work stoppage. He wanted to put it all behind him and get back to work, earning money for the ranch he wanted to buy on Accilorania. He could build a house. All he needed was enough to buy the land. This gig would do it.
If they ever got back to work. Rumors were flying that the project would be canceled. No one wanted that.
The aliens from Angobar were lighter on their feet and quicker. Gravity on their home planet was heavier than what was maintained on the station. They were as strong as their bulkier human counterparts and much faster.
The two raced into the shadows, dodging and leaping over the materials that their target dumped in the semi-finished space.
“Cover the door!” J.R. called to the other human while the Angobar workers flanked the shadow and finally cut him off. He turned and raced back, but it was too late. J.R. stepped to the side and delivered an arm bar across the shadow’s chest, upending the creature and dropping it to the deck.
J.R. dropped, putting a heavy knee in the middle of its chest, and threw back the covering over its face.
“Do you know this guy?”
“Girl,” the one called Booger Lips replied, speaking the common tongue. “Yes. She Bali Kruangel. Electricity person.”
She snarled something in the Angobar language, and the chips translated it for the humans. “Electrician, you ass!”
“When I let you up, we’re going to see the workforce administrator.”
“No,” she replied simply, pinching her mouth shut.
“You don’t have a choice.” J.R. nodded to the others to take hold of the intransigent worker.
“No pay, no reason to follow orders.”
“You have a point, but not really. You’re coming with us; otherwise, no one goes to work. Do you want that on your conscience?”
A string of creative insults followed.
“I’m not changing my mind no matter how filthy your mouth. It’s like you’ve been spending too much time with construction guys.” He started to pull her to her feet. She kicked in an attempt to free herself, but the others were on her in an instant. “Fight all you want, but that Magistrate is going to get inside your brain and see what you’re hiding. That’s right, she’s a telepath. Say it with me. Tel-e-path. You won’t have any secrets once she’s done with you.”
“Let me go!” she screamed.
“Hell, no!” J.R. shouted back. The two Angobar stepped away from their fellow native, and the two humans bodily dragged her from the space. “Call the administrator. Tell him we caught a runner.”
By each door, there was a comm panel. The hesitation by the Angobar was enough for J.R. to do it himself. He elbowed the panel to activate it. “Direct link to Workforce Administrator Fleener’s quarters.”
“Fleener,” came the quick reply.
“We have a runner. A female Angobar.” J.R. turned to his struggling captive. The burly construction workers maintained their firm grips. “Hey! Stop it!”
She gritted her teeth and snarled.
“Her name is Bali Kruangel. She seems terrified of the mind probe the Magistrate is going to give her, but she’s asking for it.”
“Stick her face up by the screen. Bluto, confirm her identity.”
“Of course, Mr. Fleener. She is Angobar Electrician Third Class Bali Kruangel.”
“Transfer all information on her to the Magistrate,” Oz ordered.
“The Magistrate already has the employee records. There is no additional information I can give her except to say that she has been detained,” Bluto replied.
“Let her know that.” The administrator signed off without further discussion.
“One down, ten to go,” J.R. told his team before nodding and dragging their reluctant captive toward the consolidation area where the safety manager maintained his office.
Onboard Wyatt Earp
“Answer the comm!” Rivka shouted at the screen.
“I’m sorry, Magistrate. It appears that Grainger is not available,” Chaz offered unnecessarily.
Rivka thought for a moment. “Is it time-sensitive enough to bother the High Chancellor?” she wondered. She started to pace quickly from one side of her stateroom to the other. “It could rock the entirety of the Federation, which means Wyatt will be involved regardless. High Chancellor Wyatt and Wyatt Earp. I didn’t think that through as well as I should have. We’ll deal with it, although we could just call the ship Rivka’s Cool Frigate. Where was I?
“Unbalance the stability of the Federation. Yes. Need to call the High Chancellor. Chaz, can you put me through, please, and once we connect, give us some privacy?”
“As you wish, Magistrate. Connecting you now.”
Unlike Grainger, Wyatt picked up on the first ring.
“My favorite Magistrate!” he declared with a big smile. “To what do I owe this honor?”
Rivka tried to gauge the High Chancellor’s demeanor. Was there a trap into which she’d fall? She guessed not. He had always been genuine with her, if cryptic.
“I tried to call Grainger first, but he wasn’t picking up. I have an issue at Space Station 13, which is under construction…” Her words trailed off as she thought about how to frame it. With Grainger, the name calling and banter helped her be more casual. More straightforward with what bothered her.
“Is this where I’m supposed to guess?” The High Chancellor had lost his smile, but his eyes still sparkled, even though they had the distinctive red tinge.
“I’m sorry, High Chancellor. Five murders, a sixth attempted, and I’m starting to think the station’s AI did it.”
“An interesting premise.” The High Chancellor leaned back and rubbed his chin. “A very interesting problem. I see why you are concerned.”
“AIs can’t commit homicide.”
“A legal conundrum, since people’s lives have been prematurely and unnaturally shortened. You’re sure the AI is the responsible party and not a master programmer manipulating circuits?”
“I am not, but the AI is my prime suspect. I’ve not shared this with anyone else. Ankh suspects, unless he knows for certain. Getting anything from him is a challenge all its own.”
“Once you’re certain, let me know directly. If you want to judge someone who is outside the law, I think I need to hear the case. Formally. I’m sorry, Magistrate, but you may have to put your Barrister hat on and assume the role of prosecutor.”
“It’ll be nice to have only one job, High Chancellor. I look forward to solving this case and moving to the judgment phase.”
“Did you do your thing with the crew?” Wyatt asked out of the blue.
“My thing? You mean the zombie thing?” He nodded. “I did. Almost all of them, but there is scant evidence. I needed to know what they know. Out of over five hundred crew, I have seventeen on board the admin ship and a comparable number here on the station remaining. Once I’ve seen into everyone’s mind and know they aren’t guilty, we’ll use technical means to check the station to see if Jack the Ripper is hiding somewhere. And after those are exhausted, we’ll get right down to the AI. I may have to forcibly remove him from the station’s infrastructure for an interrogation.”
“Can you do that?”
“I can’t, but I guarantee Ankh and Erasmus can. They captured Ten and have him stored securely away from any network.” Rivka waited while Wyatt slowly nodded. “I want you to know that we’re calling the captured Skaine frigate, Wyatt Earp.”
“Wyatt. A damn good name. I approve. Hav
e you been able to remove the smell? That’s usually a hold-up when it comes to integrating any of their stuff into the fleet. It ends up going for half-price on the wholesale market.”
“We’re working on it.” Rivka’s expression made the High Chancellor laugh.
“Thanks for the update, Rivka. I should have known you would find the most interesting case in the galaxy, at least for today.”
He waved and signed off.
Rivka felt no better than before she called. He had given no guidance, no tips on dealing with an AI criminal.
Probably because there’d never been such a thing before.
Rivka tapped a couple of buttons on her screen. “Chaz, wake me in the morning when it’s time to return to the station. I need sleep, and I need to think. I believe that one may preclude the other.”
“It is morning already, Magistrate, but if you hurry, you can still manage a solid four hours of sleep.”
“Four hours. That’ll teach me to research the legal questions. So many rabbit holes and still no answers.”
Chapter Thirteen
Gantry Four, Federation Border Station 13 – Under Construction
“Are you ready?” Rivka asked. Red and Lindy looked well-rested. Jay’s hair was going everywhere, making it look like she had just gotten up. “Is this a trendy look I missed in the latest fashion rags?”
“Maybe I should stay here. Floyd was up all night with an upset stomach.”
“What did she eat this time?”
“I couldn’t identify it from what I saw. You know, from the second-time-around version.”
Rivka closed her eyes and swallowed. The wombat was willing to eat anything once, maybe twice. Her favorite foods were whatever anyone else was eating. Jay did her best, but Floyd was like an active toddler, except with more energy.
“If you can join us, I’d appreciate it. You always give me a different perspective.”
“Plus, distract the workers?” Jay was shrewd in most things.
“I didn’t say it,” Rivka remarked, but she had been thinking it.
Lindy chuckled briefly before adjusting her combat harness. The two bodyguards looked ready for war.
Rivka hadn’t told them her suspicions, but railguns would be useless to capture her leading suspect. They needed the Crenellian and Erasmus, the AI who lived inside his head.
An entity Ankh had called his friend.
Rivka would have accepted “mate” as the most applicable term.
Jay straightened her hair by running her fingers through it and shrugged. “Ready.”
“They’ll love you just as you are,” Red quipped.
“They have no standards,” Jay replied, smiling. She wasn’t sure she liked being the center of attention.
“No accounting for love.” Rivka one-arm hugged Jay before pointing through the airlock at the gantry beyond. Red went first, and the rest fell in behind him.
At the end, the super and safety manager waited.
“Zack, Boran. I trust you slept well,” Rivka greeted them.
They smirked in response, not saying anything, then Zack asked, “Are you ready to wrap this up?”
Rivka cocked her head. “That depends on a lot of things. Are the final workers waiting?”
Zack winced before guarding his expression. “We brought over everyone from the admin ship. You can scan that to make sure no one is aboard. And we have seven others waiting. We cannot find the final ten names on the roster.”
The construction supervisor sub-consciously leaned away from the Magistrate as if preparing to defend himself from a physical attack.
“Then we move everyone to one area, verifying all of them to be sure, and we’ll scan the station to find the stragglers.”
“We’re already corralling the workers. Everyone except the twenty-four who are already on the rec level of the station. We’ve run every single one of them through our checklist, the manual version you insisted on. Billie, J.R., and Finn are in charge of verifying everything.”
“Not your general foremen or foremen?”
“I’d promote those guys, but the administrator had been reluctant. He considers these three as the most trustworthy we have. They helped us find one Angobar who was trying to hide. We’ve cleared some things up between us, and I believe we can trust him. I also want to make a pitch for you to reconsider that obstruction accusation.”
“Conviction,” Rivka corrected. She held out her hand, and the super took it and gave it a hearty shake. His conversation with Oz was foremost in his mind, the moment the workforce administrator had dropped his shields, lost his façade, and showed the super the man behind the curtain. “That is an interesting turn of events. I’ll consider it.”
“That’s all I can ask.” The construction superintendent looked relieved. He didn’t want to push his luck since he had been close to getting on Rivka’s bad side more than once.
Humility went a long way with the Magistrate.
She looked past Red, who still occupied a great deal of space, to find the comm panel on the wall. She pointed to it, and Red moved aside. “Rivka to Ossuary Fleener.”
“Workforce Administrator Fleener,” he replied at once.
“Your conviction is vacated. Meet us in the interview room immediately.”
“On my way!” he chirped in a voice that didn’t sound like a man with the name “Ossuary.”
“Let’s talk to those you have waiting, shall we?” Rivka motioned for Zack to lead the way.
He took off at a near-run, with Boran hustling to keep up. The Magistrate walked at her own pace. When the super saw them falling behind, he slowed. Boran poked him in the ribs.
“Good job, my man,” Boran whispered, not knowing that the four nano-enhanced people behind him could hear everything he said. “That was a nice thing you did, even though he’s been a dick from the word go.”
“I think you’ll find him a changed man. A felony conviction has a way of doing that.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Boran winked. “I try to keep my felonies out of a Magistrate’s face, unlike our new friend Oz.”
The super laughed at the administrator’s expense. “Changed man,” he reiterated.
The group continued through the winding and incomplete corridors until they reached the room they’d given Rivka to conduct interviews.
Inside, an unruly mob awaited. At the center of it, spitting invectives like machine gun bullets, was Bali Kruangel, the recalcitrant from Angobar.
The Yollin and Ixtali security personnel weren’t trying to calm anyone down. They seemed satisfied with keeping them from leaving the room.
“Red, would you do the honors and bring that one to me?” Lindy cleared the workers away from the seat and small table the Magistrate had been using for her personal conversations. Rivka took the chair and waited.
“Shut up!” the super yelled.
“Yeah! Shut your faces!” an out-of-breath workforce administrator added.
The mob quieted and cleared out of Red’s way as he made a beeline for the Angobar female.
“The Magistrate wants to talk to you.” Red pointed to the table and empty chair across from Rivka.
“She can go fuck…” Red drove a fist into her face before she could say another word. She staggered and fell. He flipped her over and picked her up by the back of her jumpsuit, carrying her like a piece of luggage. Red stood her up and then pushed her into the chair.
“Mind your manners,” he said as he loomed over her.
“Why did you kill those workers?” Rivka asked, reaching across to grab the Angobar by the arm.
Confusion. Outrage. Just wants to do her job.
“Okay, you can go.”
The female was still stunned. Red “helped” her from the chair and propelled her toward the door. The super and workforce administrator intercepted her.
“You’ll show some respect, or you’ll be on the first shuttle back to Angobar. We need good electricians and good workers. If you’re shit
to work with, we don’t need you,” Fleener threatened before personally opening the door. “Get your dumb ass to the rec area.”
Bali stumbled forward, and he closed the door when she was half-way through. She fell into the corridor beyond.
Jay watched the whole thing with interest. It reminded her of an upstart youth all those months ago who had given the Magistrate the finger and subsequently had that finger nearly ripped from her hand. Respect was earned as well as taught. Jay hoped Bali had learned her lesson.
Oz and Zack were forming the remaining workers into a line, helping each other to help Rivka. She asked the question, “What do you know about the killings?”
She walked briskly down the line to confirm that no one was involved.
“To the recreational deck.” Rivka twirled her finger in the air. “Let’s light this candle.”
“We should have confirmation by the time we get there that all hands are present and accounted for,” Fleener reported.
“Sounds good, Ossuary.”
“Call me ‘Oz,’ please, ma’am.”
“Sure,” Rivka agreed without offering her first name. She was in the middle of an investigation. It wasn’t time to get friendly, even though she no longer felt antagonism toward the super or the administrator. Her sights were clear, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what conclusion she would reach in regards to her investigation. She only needed to confirm the absence of evidence to zero in on the perpetrator.
And a whole new level of grief was coming like a tidal wave right for her.
“Manual check complete,” Boran reported. “An even ten unaccounted for.”
“Bring up their records, please,” Rivka requested.
Fratricide Page 12
