Chapter 23
It was early evening on the station and Chris was in the library researching other private investigators. He had found research organizations, body guards, and mercenaries, but no advertisements or information regarding his field of work.
That seems strange, he thought.
The murder investigation was at a temporary standstill as they waited for a reply from the Lobsidian owners of the illusionary space ship, and from a cleaning supply outlet. Group Leader Wenzall had sent both requests for information by carrier pigeon and responses were expected sometime tomorrow.
Fast Runner had provided him with the results of the forensics research he had requested. Small amounts of the poison were found on one of Jass-murn’s hands and on his lips, just enough of it to get a reading on the trace elements. Finding sources of the poison had been difficult, in part because the League had it listed as a restricted element available only to those who could demonstrate a legal need for its use, and partly because it could easily be made from paintel, the illegal, but available, addictive hallucinogen.
She had also established Dwocolians could commit suicide, and apparently did it with some frequency. Their species placed a low value on individual life. Her contact had explained suicide was used as a form of population control.
Chris wasn’t sure what to make of Fast Runner. She was abrupt and seemed irritable. He knew this had been her case. Had he tread on some kind of inferiority? Probably best not to make assumptions about alien behavior patterns, he thought.
He had found nothing in the personal belongings of Jass-murn to suggest why he would commit suicide. There were a number of items which must have served some purpose, but he didn’t know what they were, and no one else seemed to know either.
Chris had examined the cleaning procedures, and the results of a DNA sweep in another suite confirmed his suspicions. There was no way a normal cleaning of the room would have removed evidence of previous visitors so thoroughly.
Earlier Inner Strength and Chris had entered Jass-murn’s suite.
“No fooling around,” Chris said seriously. “I’m in work mode and I have a hard time shifting back and forth between being focused on my work and being playful, okay?”
“All right,” she responded with mock seriousness, “but these are some strange items. This sticky plastic is very odd.”
Chris and Inner Strength had gotten the materials together to hunt for fingerprints or their equivalent.
“I agree,” Chris said, “but it should work.” Chris had used both Casey’s memories and his own to fashion a kind of scotch tape for lifting anything resembling fingerprints.
A casual sweep of the living quarters revealed nothing. Chris brought out a magnifying glass he had asked Lar Sesni to have made for him. Inner Strength produced a short laugh at the primitive device.
Chris ignored her and started looking around. On a kitchenette counter he found something, stopping him in his tracks. “What’s this?” he asked.
Inner Strength immediately crowded him and looked through the magnifying glass. “Those are nanites!” she exclaimed. “They are eating small particles of matter.”
Jass-murn’s suite had been thoroughly cleaned of hairs, skin flakes, dead cells, enzymes, and anything else leaving DNA traces. A closer inspection found thousands of cleaning nanites which would disappear with time. A “normal”cleaning would have been reduced the nanite population to hundreds, and a second cleaning would have made the number even smaller. Also, general use of the room would break the shells of the microscopic robots.
Chris made a mental note to see if he could order cleaning nanites for his apartment on Mars.
Lar Sesni had searched the computer files and found the cleaning nanites could be ordered and purchased from thousands of outlets in League space. Further research had shown five items had arrived from one of the outlets in the last two weeks.
All five items had been ordered by Group Leader Accountant. None of the items ordered were cleaning nanites, but Chris had immediately become suspicious and had requested a carrier pigeon be sent to the supply outlet requesting a copy of their records regarding the shipments.
Chris’ sharp hearing picked up the soft tread of someone coming up behind him as he sat in the library thinking. Pulling himself from the depths of his thoughts he looked over his shoulder and saw Inner Strength. She had tracked him down, as she had promised to do.
“Hi!” he said with a grin and direct eye contact. “What’s the latest on Group Leader Accountant?”
“He is refusing to cooperate.”
“Even after he was caught trying to flee the station?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered. “Group Leader Accountant claims he has committed no crimes and we have no evidence.”
The security team sent by Quiet Voice to detain him had located the Lobsidian, not in his office, but at a docking port trying to book passage on a freighter about to leave.
“How strong is the survival instinct in Lobsidians?”
“Very strong. Why? Are you going to ask Quiet Voice to threaten him with execution?”
“I hadn’t thought of that, but I suppose it’s an option. No, I was thinking as more and more of the evidence points in his direction he might change his mind. Perhaps we should leave him alone in his cell until we have all the evidence. Then, we can present it to him all at once and offer him some kind of legal immunity or witness relocation package. He might be more helpful if he believes he has only two options. Helping us and going free or,” Chris paused as he assembled the rest of the sentance, “suffering whatever kind of punishment he’ll end up getting. Whose jurisdiction is he going to fall under?”
“At the moment, Quiet Voice is planning to turn him over to the League. In fact, she feels we already have enough evidence to clearly show Ek-clar Station was being used by the Lobsidians in some kind of murder plot. She has suggested turning the evidence over to the League, after we have received replies from the two messages sent out.”
“I’ll have to try convincing her we should attempt breaking him one more time. I’d really like to be involved in closing this case.
“I must change the subject,” Inner Strength said. “I have news about the Ballester. It has dropped out of faster-than-light speeds and has communicated with Ek-clar Station, requesting permission to dock. He has stated he is delivering a shipment of corbinite to its new owners and has submitted paperwork showing he is legally transporting the corbinite from Corbin III.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind the paperwork is forged.”
“Do not be concerned. There are no doubts in our minds either.”
“When will he be arriving?” asked Chris.
“In approximately three hours.”
“We should be getting ready,” he said, starting to get up from his chair.
“Quiet Voice is making the arrangements. I am hungry. We have time to go to the restaurant.”
She’s awfully cute when she puts her foot down, Chris thought, still aware the language translator tended to simplify what was being said.
They were sitting in the staff meeting room and Quiet Voice was discussing the arrival of Javis. All of the security staff was present as well as Lar Sesni, Homer, and Chris. Quiet Voice was laying out the sequence of events and clearly establishing everyone’s responsibilities.
Chris admired her leadership and organizational skills.
“The Ballester will be assigned to Dock 14. Hidden video cameras have already been installed in the area and along the corridor to monitor the movements of Javis, who is calling himself Henry Lee. At this time there is still no information about who will receive the corbinite. Patient Hunter believes Javis does not know either, and will not know until he has been contacted. All communication to and from the Ballester will be monitored.”
Pointing to a holographic image of the mall, she proceeded to assign people to specific locations. Chris and Homer were to sit in the coffee shop where Inner Strength had first taken him, at the same table offering such a good view of the mall. His assignment was to accurately identify Javis as a criminal who was illegally transporting corbinite.
“We will be waiting for Javis to meet his contact,” Quiet Voice said seriously. “We don’t know when this will happen. Everyone will have microphones and earphones providing two-way communications. After Patient Hunter has identified Javis, we will continue to monitor the human’s movements until he has met with the recipient of the corbinite. It is assumed Javis and the recipient would return to Javis’ ship and inspect the cargo. A section of the corridor has had force fields installed. When they are in position the force fields will be activated. I don’t want any mistakes and I don’t want anyone taking action prematurely. The arrest will have to be well coordinated. I don’t want innocent people injured. All security staff are to wear civilian clothing. No one should be identified as on duty security.”
Lar Sesni approached the air lock with some apprehension. He knew he was supposed to greet this newcomer as he would any other. A miniature microphone/transmitter attached to his translator sent a signal to all of the security staff’s comm links. He had already decided to perform the human ritual of shaking hands with more clumsiness than he had during his initial encounter with Patient Hunter.
Javis stepped through the airlock and reminded himself to be friendly. He didn’t care for alien races. He would never admit they frightened him, not even to himself. He regarded Raymond Ginyit’s isolationist philosophy as intelligent and absolutely necessary if humans were going to survive and prosper. He didn’t trust the League and he certainly didn’t trust the three-leggedcreature standing in front of him.
Chris and Homer sat in the coffee shop overlooking the oval shaped, park-like center of the mall, waiting to see if the man was going to leave his ship. As he eavesdropped, he recognized Javis’ voice and heard Javis identify himself as Henry Lee.
When Chris had asked Ginyit about the corbinite, the basic plan had surfaced, but many of the details were left out. Chris understood Ginyit approved of having the League blame Terra for the sale and delivery of the corbinite, but it surprised him they were leaving a deliberate trail leading to Corbin III.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the ship has Intergalactic Mining stenciled on the side, he thought.
Lar Sesni had received the docking fee. “With the formalities over, would you like to walk toward the station’s commerce center as I explain our guidelines to you?” he asked.
It took all of Javis’ control to keep the contempt off his face and out of his voice. “No, thank you. I will remain in my ship until I’m contacted by the receiver of my cargo.” Javis turned his back to the three legged alien and reentered his ship, closing the hatch.
Lar Sesni exhaled, feeling the tension in his body relax.
Everyone was on standby. The security staff were attempting to go about their normal duties, while simultaneously staying close to the posts they had been assigned. Chris was in the library doing research on the Sanine people, trying to figure out why someone would want to destroy their home world. It felt like a useless effort.
The Sanines were a peaceful people, known for being efficient and honest in their business transactions. They were an ant-like insect race with twelve colony planets. They exported a wide variety of products and materials ranging from foodstuffs to corbinite to technology. They had been League members for nearly two hundred years.
Chris found some statistical information, but not much else. The Belarian library was small, and focused mostly on languages, technical data, and Belarian entertainment literature.
Suddenly, he heard Quiet Voice through the earphone announcing, “Another human has arrived and has paid Lar Sesni the appropriate docking fee. A message has been sent from his ship to Javis’ asking they meet at the Five-in-One Entertainment Bar. Everyone should move to their appropriate positions.
Chris hurried to his place in the coffee shop. Homer joined him a few minutes later. The table had been reserved for him at Quiet Voice’s request. He looked out over the mall with a sense of anticipation.
The voice of Group Leader Wenzall came through the earphone stating, “Javis has left his ship. I hope everyone is in position.
“Which direction will the other human be coming from?” Chris asked. “Never mind. He’s just entered the mall from Corridor 6. He’s wearing dark clothing.” The man looked familiar to Chris. As he moved closer to the coffee shop Chris recognized him and was stunned. How is it possible? he wondered. But he knew exactly how it was possible. The pieces were starting to come together. The man entering the Five-in-One was an exact duplicate of the man who had attacked Chris on the Gipper, the same man who had boarded the Gipper on Mars and had later taken his own life with poison. Life isn’t quite so valuable when you have multiple copies of yourself walking around, Chris thought.
“I recognize the new arrival,” Chris stated, still watching the entrance to the entertainment bar. “Be careful. He’s a trained warrior and will be suspicious of everything.”
“Javis has just entered the commerce center,” Inner Strength announced.
“That’s him,” he confirmed. “That’s Javis.”
Javis entered the bar and everyone waited.
Ten minutes later the assassin exited the Five-in-One. There was no sign of Javis. Chris felt very uneasy.
“Someone should go in and see if Javis is still alive,” he suggested.
“Brown Eyes,” Quiet Voice said, taking charge of the situation, “enter the Five-in-One. Be casual and see if you are able to locate Javis. Fast Runner, be prepared to activate the force fields. Do not wait for my instructions. Activate them as soon as the human has entered the trap.”
“Quiet Voice, I can see the man called Javis. He is sitting at a table. But something is odd. He does not appear to be moving.”
“Go closer, Brown Eyes,” the older woman directed. “Do not endanger yourself, but attempt to evaluate if Javis is still alive.”
Brown Eyes was nervous. She moved closer to the table. Javis had his back to her and couldn’t see her approaching. She passed the table and turned to look over her shoulder. Javis’ face and eyes showed no signs of movement. She stopped and looked at him more carefully. If he was aware of her staring at him, he showed no sign of it. He still hadn’t moved.
“Quiet Voice, either he is paralyzed or he is dead.”
“Stay with him, Brown Eyes. When you are certain he is harmless, attempt to assess whether he is dead or paralyzed.”
Inner Strength came on over the earphones, “The new human is not going towards the Ballester. He appears to be returning to his ship.”
“Attempt to stop him,” the chief of security ordered.
Chris had been thinking. The assassin had made no efforts to secure the corbinite and had left Javis paralyzed. It made no sense. What was there to gain from these actions? And who was he working for?
Chris decided to head down to the mall. He knew he wasn’t supposed to get involved, but he also knew things weren’t working out as planned and he was worried about Inner Strength’s safety.
From a distance, Chris could see she had drawn a weapon. He watched as the assassin pulled a gun from inside his jacket and, without hesitation, shot her with a laser. Inner Strength fell to the floor as Chris bolted towards her, hoping she hadn’t been killed.
She was curled in the fetal position as he arrived. He knelt beside her. “Inner Strength, are you conscious?” he asked, hoping desperately she was alive.
“Yes,” she said, the pain in her voice apparent.
Behind him he could hear someone else arriving on the scene. “Where are you hurt?” he asked.
“Here, in the shoulder.”
He could see the pinkish blood through her green fingers, as she clutched her shoulder. “Are there any vital organs there?” he asked.
“No,” Quiet Voice responded behind him. “She should be all right.”
Chris exhaled a sigh of relief. A deadly look came into his eyes as they moved to focus on Corridor 6. Rising, he began to run in pursuit of the assassin.
As he ran he took control of his anger, focused it, and used it to increase his running speed. The man ahead of him had a good head start, but Chris could feel his legs and lungs developing a rhythm as his speed accelerated. His feet were just touching the floor and he deliberately expanded his chest with each breath, striving to bring in more oxygen.
He could hear the sound of running footsteps ahead of him and knew he was catching up. They entered a long straight stretch of corridor. He could see the man now.
Suddenly the assassin stopped. He must have heard Chris behind him. He began to turn, gun in hand. By the time he had turned all the way, Chris had tackled him and successfully knocked the laser gun from his grasp.
Chris was slammed multiple times by the man’s fists. He rolled away to avoid the blows, and came to a standing position at the same time his opponent did. The two squared off and sized each other up.
They closed the space between them and began exchanging blows. Some were blocked, some made bruising contact. It didn’t take Chris long to understand he was outmatched by the other man. A blow reached his solar plexus before he could block it.
His body went numb from the pain, but he held onto consciousness. Another blow to his forehead caused a curtain of darkness to enfold his mind. He could feel himself falling and coming to rest on the floor. He tried hard to pull himself back to consciousness and succeeded in opening his eyes.
Pulling himself up from the floor, in what seemed like slow motion, Chris struggled to follow the assassin. Ahead, he could see the back of the man as he stepped through the airlock.
“Quiet Voice, he’s just entered his ship. Do we have any way of stopping him from taking off?”
“We can activate the dock’s emergency magnetic anchors, but I am not sure they will hold him. They are designed for damaged ships without functional anchors of their own,” she came back. “Their pull is minimal.”
Chris arrived at the airlock and looked at what appeared to be a timing device counting down with only two minutes left to go. “Do it!” he said loudly. “He’s planted a bomb on the airlock wall.”
The ship outside had started its thrusters and was attempting to pull away. Fast Runner must have activated the emergency anchors because he wasn’t moving. The corridor was beginning to shake from the strain of the thrusters. Suddenly, there was a loud grinding noise and the ship separated from the station.
“Open the airlocks!” Chris yelled as he tore the bomb from the wall. “I have to get this bomb out of here! Open them now!
The airlock doors began to open, a rush of air pulled Chris with it as the atmosphere escaped into the vacuum of space. Holding onto the edge of the airlock’s frame, Chris could see the ship as it began to turn its nose away from the station and lined itself up for departure. The bomb has a magnetized backing, he thought, and threw the device at the ship. The combination of the air jettisoning out into space and the power of his throw took the bomb to the side of the ship, where it floated briefly before attaching itself.
The ship aligned itself at a near ninety degree angle from the station and activated its antigrav thrusters. It moved away from Ek-clar rapidly and was gone from sight. Suddenly, there was a huge explosion and Chris knew a third of the station would have been destroyed.
He held on and held on as the air rushed past him, attempting to drag him out into space with it. He moved and flexed the muscles in his hands and forearms, knowing moving muscles tire less quickly then locked and cramped muscles. He tried to breathe and was only partially successful. Nothing existed for him accept maintaining his grip on the edge of the airlock.
Finally, after an endless amount of time, the rush of air stopped and he found himself resting on the floor. They had closed the exterior airlock door. He didn’t want to move. He just wanted to rest.
After Chris left the coffee shop, Homer had plugged into the station’s computer systems to better monitor the situation. He noted the station had brought up its force field as soon as the bomb had cleared the station. The subroutine had recorded all variations and interference patterns as the field came online. Upon his return to Gredoria, the central computer would analyze all the collected data.
He was still innocent of the search for information regarding Belarian force field technology.