Chapter 7
Behind him, Chris’ sensitive ears picked up the sound of footsteps. If I listen hard enough, Chris thought to himself, I’ll bet I can hear that person’s clothing rustle.
The footsteps moved closer and he could just make out the sound of fabric rubbing against fabric. The footsteps stopped immediately behind his seat. Chris was slouched in the seat, and he wondered if the other person knew someone else in the room. With just the slightest reflection from the viewing glass, Chris could make out the outline of a man. The outline made a sudden movement with its hands, and Chris’ intuitive reaction was to slide down into the seat and grab the man’s wrists as he reached for Chris’. They were both momentarily frozen in position. Chris realized the man was holding a cloth smelling like some kind toxic chemical.
His opponent realized Chris had eluded being drugged and now had a clear view of his face. Chris recognized the man as the one he had seen at the spaceport.
Continuing to hold the man’s wrists, Chris twisted around to face the man in a standing position as he held his opponent off balance, and with the man’s forearms now crossed. He leaned back, dragging the man halfway across the chair and into an even more awkward position. Taking full advantage of his lucky maneuver, he kicked the man hard in the forehead with his knee, knocking him out.
Dragging him to the floor, Chris used the man’s jacket to bind his wrists together tightly behind his back. Searching him for papers or some kind of identification, Chris avoided touching the chemically laden cloth, not wanting to contaminate it with his fingerprints, DNA, or body oils. He wanted no confusion about who was attacking whom.
The man carried no identification, but Chris did notice his knuckles were heavily calloused, suggesting martial arts training.
This is not good, he thought. This means there’s more then one operative inside Intergalactic Mining and they knew I was coming.
Going to the room’s comm system, Chris activated it and said, “Computer, contact ship security and tell them there has been an attempted assault in the Viewing Room on level three. Have them send a security detail immediately.
“Complying,” the computer responded.
The first thing I’ll have to do is make sure Henry Lee is clean. Now, how am I going to do that? I could use the nanite telepathy system, but if he is clean I’ll have wasted it. There are other ways.
The mining freighter landed on schedule. As Homer and Chris departed the vessel, Chris was given a pair of sunglasses by an attendant. The attendant looked briefly at Homer with a confused expression, and then shifted his attention to the next arrival, handing out another pair of sunglasses. Homer and Chris walked across the landing pad, side by side.
Chris looked around briefly before putting on his sunglasses. The twin blue suns blended into the aqua blue sky and created an eerie lighting effect. They were bright enough. Too bright for the naked human eye. But the blue tint seemed to reflect off everything, giving Corbin III a look of coldness in direct contrast to the actual temperature.
It was hot. Chris was beginning to sweat and he’d only been outside for a few minutes. An aroma of something like nutmeg was in the air. With the exception of the people moving around him, Chris heard no natural noises. The planet “sounded” dead. Not even a breeze.
“Will this environment damage you in any way, Homer?”
“No. The atmosphere and temperature are well within my safety parameters.”
Chris put on his sunglasses and looked at the spaceport they were walking towards. It was a large two story, rectangular building constructed out of a combination of brown stone and metaglass. Chris assumed the stone came from the mountains in the distance.
They entered the spaceport terminal and Chris was momentarily confused by its unfamiliar layout. He attempted to get his bearings and locate an information desk or some other means of finding Henry Lee.
“Would Christopher Black please report to the information desk. Christopher Black, please report to the information desk.”
“Nothing like drawing attention,” Chris said to Homer. “I wonder what’s going on?”
Making their way to the information desk, Chris recognized his contact, Henry Lee, from a photo in the files he had been given. Mr. Lee was much taller than Chris had expected. (Chris rarely expected anyone to be a full head taller than himself and Henry Lee was at least that tall.) He was easy to spot in a crowd.
Mr. Lee saw Homer first (Homer stood out even more than Mr. Lee, with his four legs and dark blue metallic skin), and then noticed Chris.
“Well, Homer, let’s see if we can find out whether Mr. Lee is a friend or a foe. The tall man at the info booth is Mr. Lee.”
As they neared, Lee extended his hand and Chris shook it. “Things have changed Mr. Black. The corbinite was stolen last night.”
Chris was dumbstruck for a moment, but recovered and proceeded with his plan. “Who stole it?”
“A woman named Martha Apela.”
“How much was stolen?”
She took approximately three tons. But this is now more than a theft. She killed six security guards. Murder has been committed. I’m authorized to offer you your daily pay guaranteed, plus 50,000 credits to bring back the corbinite and Martha Apela.”
Chris didn’t bat an eye. “I accept. I’m assuming you’ve already communicated with the office on Terra by way of carrier pigeon.”
Carrier pigeons were missiles traveling at fatal speeds and carrying messages and info back and forth. Radio waves took hundreds of years to travel the distances from the colonies to Terra. Carrier pigeons were the fastest and cheapest way the human race had for communicating across light years of distance.
“Yes. I sent one off right after we discovered what had happened and they immediately sent one back giving me authorization to renegotiate your contract and to help you in any way I could.”
“Good,” Chris said. “How did she transport the corbinite off planet?”
“We’re not real sure yet. We’ll go over to the security office. They’ll have the current update.”
“When were the crimes discovered?” Chris asked, wondering how old the trail was.
“This morning during shift change.”
“How did she kill the guards?”
Lee looked as though he wanted to be sick. “As best we can tell, she killed them with her bare hands. I knew all of those guards. Three of them had families. I had to tell their spouses this morning.”
Chris decided to switch to empathic mode. “This must have been quite a shock for you.”
“You can say that again. I still can’t believe what happened to those guards. Broken necks, caved in skulls. I vomited twice.”
“You’re not used to extreme violence here.”
“No. This is a very peaceful community. Everyone knows each other. This kind of thing has never happened before. The worst thing we’ve ever had has been a couple of drunken brawls. And having to tell their spouses. I still haven’t let them see the bodies. I’ll have to let them see them soon.”
“You’re concerned about how the spouses will react when they see how badly the bodies are maimed.”
“Yes. Absolutely. They’re in shock now, but I have no idea how they’ll act when they see the bodies. There’s going to be a lot of grief to deal with.”
“You mean, like with professional counselors.”
“Yes. Exactly. We have to get some professional counselors in here. As soon as possible. Maybe I can stall on letting the bodies be viewed.”
It sounded to Chris as though Lee had moved out of processing his emotions and into problem solving mode very quickly, which was just fine with Chris. Continuing to create a baseline of behavior requiring memory answers or thinking answers, Chris now asked, “How long have you been on this planet?”
Lee looked surprised at the change of subject, and then moved his eyes to focus on a spot in the upper left hand corner of his field of vision. “About two years.”
“What’s the name of your chief of security?” Chris asked, already knowing the answer.
“Captain Javis.”
“How long has he been here?”
“A little less than a year,” Lee answered.
“Did you know Martha Apela very well?”
“No. I’ve spoken to her maybe twice during the month she was here. Once when she first arrived and another time at a party.”
“During the times you spoke to her, what was discussed?”
“Well, the first time I spoke to her, I was welcoming her to Corbin III and explaining how things worked. And, as I always do, I told her if she had any problems with her immediate supervisor she couldn’t resolve, to come and see me and we’d work things out.”
“What did the two of you talk about at the party?”
“It was very brief. I asked how things were going and she said things were going fine. She said she was very comfortable here,” Lee answered with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Do you remember seeing her with anyone on a regular basis?”
“No, but if you want I’ll ask around.”
“No, don’t worry about it for the time being. Oh, before I forget, there was a man who attacked me last night and is being held on board the Gipper. I believe he has something to do with the theft. We’ll want to interrogate him.”
“I’ll make arrangements for him to be brought to our security office,” Lee said.
“Homer, maybe this would be a good time to access the colony’s library. I can see some terminals available over near that window.”
“Alright, Chris,” Homer said agreeably.
“Why don’t you lead the way to the security office, Mr. Lee?” Chris suggested. “Oh, and I need to stash this bag someplace safe. I think I’ll put it in one of those lockers.”
Chris was glad he hadn’t activated the nanite telepathy system.