CHAPTER 25
Konami couldn’t remember being this nervous. Was it being on the stage in the middle of the Arena? Was it the vast crowd in the audience — close to twenty thousand, almost the entire complement of Aotea, and the biggest gathering since departure? As huge as the ship was, it seemed absurd that everyone onboard could fit into this little stadium, a fraction of the size of the venues he recalled from the big cities on Earth. Was it his thoughts of Kostya, bewildered and whining since the move to Gregorian’s quarters now that the forward Can was spun down to zero-gravity? Was it the paperwork waiting for him from the bumps and bruises from mid-air collisions following the Spindown of the forward Can? Gonna have to recommend new guidelines: Cans must be evacuated before commencing Spindown! Considering all the reports of minor injuries, he was glad he chose to remain in the aft Can with Madani during the Spindown.
Mayor Akunle and Executive Officer Criswell were handing out awards while Captain Horovitz sat on the stage, stone-faced as ever. Konami supposed Harry Akunle’s idea of mixing in something positive — this spontaneous awards ceremony, most of which were given to junior personnel — with the briefing and question period about the most recent turmoil onboard, was wise. But sitting through the dozens of short speeches, most of them the same boilerplate about dedication, loyalty, and courage, made him wonder if it was worth it.
While the mayor posed, teeth flashing, with another award recipient — a young Human Support technician gaining her full ship’s qualification — Konami looked around the arena, trying to identify his constables. The roving watches had been temporarily suspended, so Konami had shifted most of his constabulary into crowd control roles, managing the largest crowds they had experienced onboard, entering and spreading out inside the Arena in the aft Can. He had to squint, but he was able to make out the red sashes that marked his constables, spread throughout the Arena’s seats.
He thought back to poor Kostya, as anxious as Konami had ever seen her. Positive personality traits had been written into her genetic code, as they were for all jenji pets, but apparently toleration of novel circumstances was not one of them. He supposed she would get used to it; she would be far better off in Gregorian’s quarters then in the zero-g of his own. Imagining his dog flail and whine while bouncing around the zero-g cabin made him almost sputter in laughter, even as he cringed at the thought. Wish Ilsa’s place was in the aft Can… What had seemed like a boon before — that Konami and Madani’s quarters were no more than a ten minute walk away from each other — was now a real bummer, especially since the co-worker she was staying with was on the other side of the aft Can. From the other side of the stage she caught his eye and very subtly blew him a kiss.
Finally, Mayor Akunle finished with the awards, and yielded the podium to Captain Horovitz, who placed her hands on each side of the podium. “Two of our fellow Aoteans have been murdered,” boomed the captain, amplified throughout the Arena. “Unusual radio signals that appeared to have come from far away turn out to have originated onboard. And now, half our ship is without rotation for repairs. You may have questions. In an orderly fashion, you may ask.”
There was a long pause. Konami supposed that this might be the first time much of the crew actually understood that there was a murderer among them.
An Admin Chief explained how to tap into the question queue through a wearable.
After a minute the crew got the hang of the novel interface. The first question was about the cause of the damage to the forward Can’s rotation gears.
“GravTran is investigating the damage,” answered the captain. “So far there is no evidence at this point that it was caused by anything other than normal wear and tear. When the investigation is complete, the rotation gears will be repaired and the Can will be returned to normal rotation.” Normal wear and tear... Konami highly doubted this was the case (and if so, worried about the ship’s prospects for the multi-decade journey to Samwise), but approved of the captain’s answer.
The next three questions were about details of the murder investigation, and the captain answered them with as little information as possible.
The fifth questioner stood up, halfway up the stands, and he looked familiar. Where have I seen him before? For a long ten seconds, he stared down at his hands, then spoke.
Somehow Konami knew that he was about to say something significant.
“I am a murderer,” said the questioner, scratchy vocal cords skipping like an audio glitch.
Konami was out of his seat in a flash, making his way to the field wall, and gesturing at the constables nearby the questioner. Out of the corner of his eye, half the department heads were madly gesticulating. One of the Bigwigs, Ngayabo, almost leapt out of her chair, only held back by Wilson Paramis.
“I am a murderer,” the crewman said again, much more clearly.
Konami recalled where he’d seen the questioner before – in the file after Nicolescu’s murder. This was the Chem Tech named Singh, the one Constable Loesser called “hulking” and “shaken and barely verbal”. He got down from the stage and leapt to climb the field wall to get to the stands.
Singh continued. “I killed First Muahe. I replaced the breathing filter with the bad one, and I shorted the hatch circuit. I put a plug in the piping to fake the clog.” He took a deep breath and continued, but his voice went silent. Someone silenced his wearable. Konami looked back at the department heads before vaulting over another short wall. Everyone in the Arena was on their feet.
Someone handed Singh another wearable. “I killed Senior Chemist Nicolescu. I injected him with artificial venom.” With a big hand, he wiped his brow. “But it wasn’t just me. I was given orders. There’s another plan for Aotea. Another mission.” He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. “It’s not my mission anymore.”
The packed stands made it hard to approach, both for Konami and the nearby constables. With every step, Konami was filled with a growing sense of dread.
“What is it?” asked the captain, eyes wide and hoarse-voiced. “What was your mission?”
When Singh opened his mouth to respond, a rippling crack rang out, and his head exploded.
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