Dark Vengeance (9 page)

“Is he?”

“I’ll know a lot more tonight. How did you do? Managed to end up with babes in the pool as usual, I noticed. How come you didn’t take off your shirt?”

“The Crystal sisters have no plans to do anything, never did, and never will.”

R.J. laughed. “Ah, The Thinkers then, eh?”

“I am somewhat surprised they are able to construct complete sentences.”

“Now, now, all creatures have a purpose, remember?”

“Right.”

“Did you catch up with anyone else?”

“Yes, I seem to enjoy a mutual respect with the Golian ambassador. I tested him a bit. He’s either an exceptional actor, or the episode in security was no more than an act of great honor by security officer Ree.”

“But he fits the bill nicely, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, he does. And, I’d much rather do battle with him side by side rather than head on. What about you? Catch up with anyone else?”

“I got to see the Ancient go by on her way to the medical center for her supplement treatment. I tried to make incidental contact but her two staff members kept between me and her, not that the woman is capable of doing anything at all. I’m not even sure how alive she really is from the looks of her.”

“Glad I didn’t see that. The nightmares might start again.”

“I also knocked boldly on the Tagon’s stateroom door.”

“Are you kidding? You tried to barge in uninvited to the blood drinker’s room? Are you crazy?”

“He owns a small moon which he is interested in selling to someone wealthy enough to purchase it, someone who has plans for it that he approves of. I represent someone who wishes to use it for a remote living facility. It would need to be relocated to a different star’s system if both gravity variances can be arranged.”

“Where did you get that?”

“It was posted in the ship’s free classifieds.”

“So how did that go?”

“No one was willing to answer the door. Apparently an appointment is required.”

“They were probably asleep in their coffins.”

A tone from the guest information monitor called our attention to an incoming message from Captain Mars.

Tonight’s meeting canceled. New problems to deal with. I will contact you both tomorrow. –Mars

So we amused ourselves for the rest of the afternoon by perfecting R.J.’s understanding of Tolien chess. When he was finally satisfied he could lose on his own terms, he finished his drink and headed for the door.

“Just don’t get shanghaied, boy, okay?” I suggested.

“It would more likely be a hustle, but okay,” he replied and disappeared out the door.

On my information center console, I called for evening mode then vaulted face-first onto the bed intending to reflect a bit about our luxury, carefree cruise to the planet Enuro, a cruise that had suddenly become something akin to Murder on the Orient Express. Somewhere along the way my mind took a wrong turn to the third star on the right.

Bleeping from the com monitor awoke me. Artificial morning light beamed through the curtains nearby. I fumbled blindly with one hand and slapped the com controls on the night stand. A screen appeared. It was R.J.

“Hey! Come to the dining area so we can talk. I’ll buy you breakfast.”

“Okay, I don’t much feel like working out this morning anyway. I’ll be there.” I dragged myself to the bathroom, splashed Star Seven water on my face, stopped to wonder exactly where it was coming from and where it had been, then changed to a fresh set of flight coveralls and headed his way.

He was at a table near room center. A dozen different types of cuisine were spread out in front of him. As he sampled each, he was watching passerbys through the glass front of the eatery. I had to sit across from him with my back to the concourse. My newest blend of coffee was already on the table in front of me.

“Wow! That’s still really good.”

“Glad I got it right, Kemosabi.”

“So was it the remorseful Tolien loss you had hoped for?”

“Ambassador Beltran was accomplished enough that it was an easy task. Tolien chess may be how he gained all that weight.”

“Ah, but were there any clues?”

R.J. opened his mouth to reply but froze with a pinched stare for a moment. “Wow! She’s early today!”

I turned to see what had so captured his attention just in time to spot the Ancient floating by out on the concourse, her arms waving pointlessly, two staff members struggling to keep up.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” said R.J. with a smirk.

“Suddenly the coffee doesn’t taste as good.”

“I don’t think she ever visits medical this early. Maybe there’s a problem.”

“Oh there’s a problem all right.”

“Well anyway, onto the Ambassador Beltran affair. The man makes his living by playing the margin.”

“You mean investments?”

“No. The margin between legal and illegal, right and wrong. Nothing he does is technically illegal, but it never quite qualifies as truly legal or moral either. He uses people without them knowing. Everyone is a candidate.”

“So any chance of some connection with the Sentian’s crime spree?”

“I seriously doubt it. His bodyguard is an entirely different matter, however.”

“You spoke with them both?”

“No. The bodyguard does not speak. Eye contact occurs only when you happen to catch him appraising you. He looks quite human except when you get close enough you can see fine gray lines on his face that look like tattoos but I believe they are natural. I suspect he is very, very quick. I have no doubt at all he’s a born killer. The ambassador is quite safe here.”

“Guests aren’t allowed to have weapons. He’d have to be good with his hands and feet.”

“Yes, he’s a …well, speak of the devil. Take a casual look over your shoulder. Do you see the man in gray sweats that just walked into the gym? He’s setting up on one of the machines near the back wall, his back is to us.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I could make contact with him somehow. The Golian’s over there working out again this morning. Maybe I could strike up a conversation with Athos and work him into it.”

“Perhaps it would be better to wait until the body guard has tired himself out a bit.”

“Why, Sir! You cut me to the quick.”

“A natural born killer. Strike first, ask questions afterward.”

“Okay, he’s on the rowing routine. I do ten minutes on that thing. Let’s see what he’s got.”

Fifteen minutes of small talk passed and the bodyguard was still rowing strong.

“Ten minutes was your limit you said?” R.J. asked with another smirk.

I twisted around and watched the bodyguard still putting his back into it. “Did I say ten minutes? Must’ve been a slip of the tongue.”

R.J. began to say something about truth in advertising but looked over my shoulder and stopped suddenly. “Wow! Now that’s weird.”

“What?”

“He’s just flopping around on the machine now like he passed out or something.”

I twisted around once more. The body guard was being thrown about, now hanging over to one side. “See, he was just showing off and went too far.”

R.J. stood. “Yeah, that’s not right. We’d better go have a look.” He took off at such a brisk pace I had to jump up and trot a few steps to catch up. As we crossed the concourse, the Golian noticed us and stopped working out to look around. He saw the body guard being slung about and immediately began to climb off his machine. A staff member passing by also stopped to see what the excitement was about.

We arrived first. I slapped the emergency kill button for the machine and it jerked to a stop with the bodyguard still hanging off to one side. R.J. tipped him back and up and searched his neck for a pulse. The man’s eyes were closed and his mouth hung open. A tiny thread of blood had begun to run out over his bottom lip.

R.J. looked at me in disbelief. “I don’t think he’s alive.”

The staff member came in beside us with communicator in hand. He quickly called for Medical and stood staring, not knowing what to do. A brand-new crowd began to form in the concourse outside the gym.

After due process of confusion with medical emergency services personnel darting around and bumping into each other, for the third time a gurney was rushed in and someone was taken away to the medical facility. R.J. and I returned to our cold breakfast. We sipped on fresh coffee having lost our appetites.

“Are you sure?” I asked, hoping he had changed his mind.

“Yes. He was dead.”

“I didn’t see a mark on his body or on his clothes except for that tiny bit of blood by his lip. It must have been natural.”

“There were veins in his neck. Nothing was pumping through them. The man just outdid you on the rowing machine. He was rock solid.”

“There wasn’t a mark on his face or clothes.”

“Could have been poison.”

“Another murder? You think we just witnessed another murder?”

“We’ll know soon enough.”

Chapter 6

In my stateroom, we tried to pass the time playing Earth chess, but our minds would not stay on the game. We were trapped inside a bubble in space moving at warp speeds to a future uncertain. Though neither of us admitted it, we’d both come to the conclusion that this was a very bad place to be. In a ship that had to be working perfectly to do what it was designed to do, people and parts were breaking down.

As I expected, Captain Mars showed up late in the afternoon. His demeanor had changed from one of stress to one of dark foreboding. We took our same seats at the information station. The Captain paused to collect himself.

“It took the doctor some time, but it was indeed murder, Gentlemen, done in a very professional way. Has either of you ever heard of an assassin’s bolt?”

We shook our heads.

“Neither had I until now. Fortunately it was in the medical database. An assassin’s bolt is a needle like device usually fired from a miniature mag gun. The gun uses magnetic acceleration to fire its projectile so it does not show up on standard weapons scans. The projectile, that is the needle, is quite an extraordinary little killer, as well. It’s usually about 4 or 5 inches long, almost as thin as a sewing needle, and contains an acid of sorts that is dispersed as the needle dissolves. The gun is designed to imbed the needle completely in the victim and at the base of the needle there is an epidermal gel intended to seal the wound made where the needle entered its victim, so no evidence of the penetration is apparent until well after the deed is done. The needle itself dissolves very quickly. The poison it leaves behind dissolves any biology it comes into contact with. There is no chance whatsoever of a victim surviving an assassin’s bolt. Ambassador Beltran has no idea why a professional assassin targeted his bodyguard. He is, of course, quite frightened. We’ve set up special guards to protect him. So you see, the very undesirable situation we were left with yesterday has become even more complicated and dangerous.”

“Captain, I’m almost afraid to ask this. Was there any video coverage of the bodyguard being shot?” I asked.

“That, Captain Tarn, is the other bad news. When the Sentian thief sabotaged our video systems we had thought he simply broke the connection in a main junction box. As it turns out he actually cross-fed those lines to a high voltage source and burned out every component in the system. We have replacements for that system but it will be another thirty hours before it is back online. So, we did not record anything from the time of the bodyguard’s assassination.”

R.J. said, “Captain I was watching the bodyguard workout at the very time he was killed. I saw no one and we heard nothing at all. The man simply went limp on the exercise machine.”

“Yes, a magnetic accelerator gun apparently makes no sound at all, other than the sound of air being compressed at the time it is fired. You saw nothing but at some point someone took a position in the concourse, fired the shot, and then fled. It would all have taken no more than a few seconds.”

“Then this person had to have known the video system was not operating,” I said.

R.J. jumped in. “And since that information has not been released, that may be the first connection to the earlier crime. Captain, has there been anything else uncovered?”

“No, Commander. I turn the question back to you. Has either of you found anything out?”

R.J. replied, “We’ve been carefully speaking to the people on our list. We’ve reduced it down to the top three. One is the Golian Ambassador Ian Athos. He has all the necessary physical attributes. The second is the Tagon Ambassador although we’ve not been able to speak to him yet. Last was Ambassador Beltran’s bodyguard. Unless this conspiracy is larger than we thought, he is no longer a suspect although perhaps he was eliminated because he was somehow involved in the earlier crime.”

I asked, “Captain, you mentioned that you were using the biometrics sensors to monitor the physical readings of guests. Has there been no unusual heart rates or breathing for the times these crimes were committed?”