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Authors: Frank J. Fleming

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BOOK: Superego
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He looked intimidated by me, but only for a moment. “Looks like another cop—or maybe a serial killer. Whatever. I don't care. Get the hell out of here, blondie. If you don't have anything to charge me with, then I have no obligation to talk to you. So why don't you leave before I…what is it…file a complaint against you. The streets would probably be safer if they took your gun away.”

This did not seem to be going well, but Diane wasn't fazed by the resistance. She took off her glasses, and it did have a nice dramatic effect. “I don't have time for this. I just want you to identify some weapons for me.”

“And I want a unicorn that craps rainbows,” Shakey said. “Let's both keep wishing and hoping.”

The detective looked at me. “So Rico, how would you handle a situation like this on your planet?”

I wasn't sure if she was serious. “I'll show you.” I turned to Shakey. “You'll probably want to sit down for this.”

“It's probably better if you don't show me.” She put her shades back on. “I'll wait outside.”

I had no idea how far she would want me to take this, but luckily it became a moot point, as Shakey started to panic. “Fine! There's no need for the theatrics! I can look at some guns for you!”

Diane tossed the photos onto his workbench. “These were the weapons used in that terrorist attack yesterday.”

“Whoa! You can't think I'd have anything to do with those freaks! I'm not some crazed murderer—I've always said we should eradicate those people. You've heard me say that.”

“I just want you to tell me what you can about these guns.” She pushed him down into his seat.

Shakey picked up one of the pictures. “These guns are crap, that's what I can tell you. Power source isn't properly heat-compensated. You fire them too much, and some of the wiring melts, which trips a safety measure that shuts down the power completely. Then they're useless until some delicate repairs can be done…or so I've heard.”

She pressed in closer. “So you know of them?”

Shakey looked more cautious. “Similar ones, maybe. They were sold off planet, though—so they weren't the ones used in this attack. But they probably came from the people who supplied your guns as well.”

“And who is that?” Diane stood on one side of Shakey, and I stood on the other, trying to look as imposing as possible.

Shakey looked at the detective, glanced at me, and then looked back at her. “What would I know? I've had enough run-ins with the law, I keep my nose out of that sort of thing.”

“There are terrorists out there planning more attacks. I need this information.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I'm guessing they're not going to attack down here—nothing worth blowing up. But if people find out I'm freely ratting on them to you, that's trouble for me. So why don't you and your serial killer friend threaten to rough me up once more, and then be on your way.”

“You really think I'm going to walk away when I think you know something?”

“And you think I'm going to give up important information for free because of my fondness for you? I heard the feds are around here asking questions. If this terrorism threat is serious, you should probably leave it to them, blondie.”

“You know something? I'm going to get it out of you one way or another. If you need to get bruised up a bit to keep your street cred, I can arrange that.”

“Just so you know, I'm videotaping everything going on in here.”

Diane laughed. “Sure you are.” She grabbed Shakey and forced him down into a chair.

“And I'm not afraid of some silly blonde woman trying to smack me around.”

Diane took off her shades again and leaned in close to him, her expression intense. “That's what Bedar said.”

Now he looked scared. “You did that?! No way…you're the police…you can't…”

“There are more attacks coming, and you're in the way of my stopping them.” There was fire in her eyes, and I felt a little blood rush to a place that wasn't helpful at the moment. “There is very little I will not do.”

I honestly couldn't tell how serious she was, but Shakey certainly didn't think she was bluffing. He looked terrified. “Fine, let's keep the crazy bitch in her bottle. I know some people who stole some of these weapons—if you can steal something from someone who isn't supposed to have it in the first place.”

“Who did they get them from?”

“I don't have any names, but I can tell you what religious services these people attended. They were all from the Talbrook Religious Center.”

Diane stood back. “You knew those people were collecting guns, and you didn't think to tell anyone about it?”

Shakey shrugged. “I thought maybe it was just old-fashioned Islamic terrorism. When was the last time anyone saw that? Anyway, we had taken away their guns and put them in the hands of more responsible criminals. I guess the smugglers from Talbrook figured out how to be more secretive on their next shipment.”

Diane stared at him silently for a few seconds. “That's it?”

“What else is there to say? You already knew you needed to go there. You also know who you need to interrogate there. Or are you going to pretend to not know that either?” He got up and headed back to his tools. “Now we're done. It's going to be fun watching you fall one day, blondie.”

She smiled. It was a little creepy; I liked it. “Me with nothing to lose; that would be fun.” Diane picked up the photos and turned to leave.

I followed her, and Shakey called out, “Hey, serial killer.”

I stopped and turned toward him. “What?”

“I don't know how much you know about that woman, but I wouldn't trust her.”

“I'll take that under advisement, weasely-looking guy.”

Once the detective and I were outside, I asked, “Who's Bedar?”

I was a little surprised by her sudden change in demeanor. Gone was the tough bitch, and instead she now looked embarrassed. “I've overstepped myself sometimes. If you want to see how things are done on a well-settled planet, I'm probably not the best person to show you.”

“The important thing is getting the job done.”

She shook her head. “No. I don't believe that. I don't want to be that person. Anger can really take control of you…and it's easy to let it if it's a righteous anger…you know what I mean?”

Righteous anger would be a new one for me. Anger was, in general, just an obstacle to rational thought and was to be avoided. It never felt right. “I think I do.”

She smiled, a little nervously. “I have a bit of a dark side, but I'm trying to be a better person…I just don't always succeed. Maybe this isn't the best job for that.” She laughed like it was a joke, but it wasn't convincing.

Some jobs take a mental toll on people…or so I hear. Sucks to have a conscience. “Dark side, eh? Anything I should be concerned about?”

She firmed up. “Just sharing some things, one officer to another. You want to get going?”

She was kind of interesting, but I didn't need interesting right now. I had prey to hunt. “That I do, blondie.”

“Don't call me that. Anyway, you said you're good at reading people. Did you think Shakey was telling the truth?”

“About where the guns came from? There was a definite look of recognition when he saw the picture, and what he said about that religious center seemed genuine. What do you think?”

“I think he was just telling me what I wanted to hear….Of course, what I wanted to hear fits. The Talbrook Religious Center has been a breeding ground for radicals for some time. We've never been able to get anything on its leader, Nakhai, but he always seems tangentially related to any religious violence we have in this city.”

“Now, the human adherents of the Calabrai see themselves as Muslim, correct?” I asked.

“Yes, and what's practiced at Talbrook is sort of a radical offshoot of Islam. Now, the Calabrai are considered heretics by most Muslims, but the followers at Talbrook have been pretty tolerant of anyone who frustrates the Alliance. My guess is that if there are human Calabrai adherents here, they go to Talbrook for their daily prayers…and Nakhai probably even knows who they are.” So there was a religious center in the area known for facilitating violence, and it was still standing. The part of “being civilized” I least understood was the willingness to tolerate such things, but the alternative involved lots of violence and bloodshed, and that certainly wasn't “civilized” either. “So we should question Nakhai?”

Diane hesitated. “I've had dealings with these people, and…perhaps I lost control. I'm not exactly allowed near Talbrook.”

“A restraining order?”

“Not officially…but I'll be hearing about this from Rudle.”

Her getting fired—or shot for that matter—was of no particular concern to me. I figured I had to pretend it was, though. “You think there are people at this religious center who were involved in these attacks?”

“I know there are. There's no way radicals came through here without Nakhai's help, and if Shakey was right about the guns, then they are there.”

“And you believe some of them will be there during prayers today?”

“It's pretty likely. If they're planning to carry out an attack soon, that's when they're going to be most observant.”

I acted like I was thinking this over, but I already knew what to do. “No one told me to stay away from there.”

“I can't send you in alone. What would you do?”

“I'll just say I know someone from the Calabrai is there. These are amateurs. They're not going to know how to hide their dispositions when surprised like that.”

She did not look convinced. “So your plan is to go in there and cause a ruckus?”

“The more ruckus, the better. I am telling you: if there are members of the Calabrai in there involved with terrorism, I'll be able to pick them out. I know killers. I can spot them. Trust me.”

“There's no real guarantee they'll be in there.”

“It's worth a shot.” I grinned. “And I don't have any other plans for today.”

She stared at me for a few moments. The detective was perhaps too smart to entrust this job to an unknown entity like me, even though I really could do as I told her. But the direness of the situation finally won out over common sense. “You do seem to know how to handle yourself, Rico…but you said the more ruckus the better?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Then I'm going with you. They know me and hate me. It'll be crazy…and don't call me ‘ma'am.'”

“Won't you get in trouble, Detective?”

She paused and looked genuinely worried for a moment before making her expression more resolved. “Let's find these people and worry about that later.” She then smiled. “Like I said, maybe I need a change of jobs anyway. Let's go cause a scene.”

CHAPTER 13

I certainly saw more alien diversity while walking through the outer edges of the city than I had downtown. Unlike those in the more sophisticated areas, these people weren't ashamed of sticking with their own kind for safety. The simple fear of violence tends to make sentients cling to easily identifiable groups. Humans struggled with racism for centuries; it turned out the way to overcome it was to replace it with something nearly equivalent.

We passed by a group of reddish sentients that had things on their heads resembling feathers. One of them muttered something about “humans” that I could only assume was derogatory. His anger was greatly misplaced: I treat everyone the same.

“By the way, you really handled yourself well back there,” Diane told me.

“I've been doing this a long time, Detective. I may not know all your laws and procedures, but I know how to get things done. Sometimes criminals say I'm a bit mean, though.”

Diane chuckled. “I think in a situation like this, yours is the kind of attitude we need.”

She was nervous. She knew she was going to step over a line and needed to feel it was justified. “The families mourning the dead from the café aren't going to take great comfort in the fact that we closely followed the letter of the law.” I didn't think she needed the push, but I figured it wouldn't hurt.

She nodded. “There's a lot of injustice in the universe. I hope to at least end a little of that.”

Yes, there was a lot of “injustice” in the universe…so much so that it seemed pretty pointless to worry about. But if it was people on your own planet blowing things up, the least you could do was kill them.

We were back in what looked like a primarily human section of the slums. By far, the nicest building in the area was the large religious center. On top was an arrow floating in a glass globe pointing off to the east and slightly upward—the current direction to Earth from Nar Valdum. The more old-fashioned sects of Islam continued the tradition of praying toward Mecca, a Muslim holy place located on the human home world. This, of course, was a fixed location for people on Earth but in a constantly changing direction for those on other planets. A lot of early religions seemed to have made the faulty assumption that the planet they started on was the be-all and end-all—though I guess it would have been a reasonable assumption. Some modern strains of different Earth religions have tried to become more inclusive and less Earth-centric, and some of those religions have successfully united humans and other species against them, since they all agree that these modern religions are heresies. And then there are the Calabrai, who have successfully united alien religions…but in the cause of killing others.

Well, religion is a messy subject. I try not to judge and just shoot whoever is threatening me regardless of their belief system.

Diane stood still for a moment, looking at the building. “There will probably be dozens of people in there. You really think you'll be able to spot the terrorists?”

BOOK: Superego
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