Project U.L.F. (58 page)

He stood and turned to the two men who had lifted the sheet earlier. “You two. Yes, you. Did either of you find any wounds on this body?” The two masked figures exchanged puzzled looks. “Okay, apart from the obvious.” They both shook their heads.

Lieberwits rubbed his brow under the hat rim. This made no sense. Gunshots created sprays of blood from the exit wounds, like the one to the left of this desk, and on what remained of the window. These blood spots were from a wound that had been left to bleed, that was actually dripping blood. There were other spots too, moving towards the center of the room, away from the desk but difficult to see on the dark carpet. “You guys might want to look at this,” he said to the suited men.

Murder-suicide it may be,
he thought,
but who here was murdered, and who committed suicide?

He started for the door. “Sergeant Conway, I’ll expect a thorough report by the end of the week.” Conway gave him a curt two finger salute.

*
  
*
  
*
  
*
  
*

“There she is,” Wyatt said, pointing. The four of them stood in the cockpit of the shuttle looking out at the stars. Yesterday Bobby had got them all out of cryosleep, ready for their arrival. Now they were close. “I never thought I’d be this pleased to see the moon.”

“Are you sure?” Kate asked.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve seen that arrangement of stars so many times it’s imprinted on my brain.” Bobby nodded next to him. She knew exactly what he meant.

“I don’t see it.”

“It’s that one, right there, and that’s Earth, just off to the right.” Kate leant over, bringing her face close to his so she could look down the line of his arm, then she turned a planted a light kiss on his cheek.

“Oh please!” Bobby joked, “Can you two at least wait until we’re home and I can get to minimum safe vomiting distance?”

Chris grinned. He’d been grinning all day.

*
  
*
  
*
  
*
  
*

Lieberwits closed the file in disgust and slumped back in his seat. Murder-suicide, just like Conway had said, in fact exactly as Conway had said. There had been no mention of the blood spots and no satisfactory argument given with regard to a motive. Jesus Christ, what kind of cops were they breeding down there?

He looked at the picture files again. Why was the General in full uniform? Why did he only have one gunshot wound when forensics had established that four rounds had been fired? He couldn’t believe that this Mannheim character could miss at that close range with two shots—assuming it was Mannheim who’d fired them. Maybe they had struggled, and the gun had gone off in the fight. He cast his mind back to the other night, but no, the place was neat and tidy, there were no signs of a disturbance, no signs of a forced entry, either. These guys definitely knew each other, but what was their connection?

He looked at his watch. It was too late to call anyone now.

*
  
*
  
*
  
*
  
*

Few of the assembled crowd could believe that the Endeavour had made such a trip, given her condition. She was a poor shadow of her former self. Battered and forlorn. None had seen a shuttle so badly damaged.

When the door slid back, the place erupted into cheers and raucous applause. Thousands of people had crammed into the landing bay to welcome them home. Streamers began to fly, thrown from deep in the crowd.

Wyatt emerged gingerly from the shuttle into the melee, clearly taken aback by the scale of the spectacle. The others were close in tow behind him, equally as bemused. For a moment they stood there listening to the applause and the cheers. A lump came to Wyatt’s throat. All these people were here for him. For them. If only the crowd knew what this team had been through to stand before them now. He looked down the line at the others. They were all waging private wars with their emotions. Chris simply looked down at his feet, too embarrassed to look into the crowd. Kate’s bottom lip quivered as she struggled with the feelings inside. Bobby wore the biggest smile he had ever seen on her face. Paradoxically, tears ran uncontrollably down her face.

He turned to them, pulling them all in close which caused an even louder cheer from the assembled masses. Then he took Kate’s hand and began to lead her and the others through the crushing throng of people.

A sea of happy, smiling faces blurred his vision. Features passed in and out of his sight. Some he recognized, people from the moon-base, engineers, controllers, and staff from other U.L.F expeditions, fortunate to be passing through the moon-base as they arrived, either coming home as well or preparing to go out on an expedition. Some he had no clue who they were, but they smiled and shook his free hand or patted him on the arm, offering him words of congratulations.

Wyatt stopped and came up short when he found himself looking into a chest. He looked up into the face. It could only be Sean McAphee, a huge Goliath of a man who he had worked with on numerous expeditions before. “Come on,” Sean said, smiling broadly. “I’ll get you through this.”

The big man turned and began forging ahead through the crowd. “Come on!” he boomed. “Give them room! Let them pass!” None would dare argue with a man of Sean’s size. Like the parting of the waters, the crowd pulled apart to give them a free walk to the bay exit doors, but the roar of the crowd was still deafening and well-aimed streamers and ribbons flew past them.

When they reached the doors Sean reached into his pocket and pulled out four cards. “We thought you might like these.” He handed them to Wyatt.

“What’s this?”

“Four suites. One for each of you. We heard a little of what happened to you, Wyatt. We figured you could use them.”

“But how…?”

“Doesn’t matter, does it?” Sean’s broad smile returned. “Just make sure, when you’re ready, you make it to the bar on minus fifty-seven. We’ve got a little party arranged for you down there later.”

Wyatt waggled the cards in front of him. He knew how much this must have cost. He was totally at a loss for words.

“Just ‘thanks’ will be fine,” Sean said.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, smiling faintly.

Sean clapped him on the back with a huge hand, nearly knocking the wind out of him. “It’s good to have you back, Wyatt.”

“Thanks. It’s good to be back.” He paused, summoning up the reserves of will he needed to say what he had to say next. “But I’m not really coming back.” Sean frowned. “I quit, Sean. U.L.F.’s not for me anymore.”

The other man nodded solemnly, but then his smile returned. “Can’t say I blame you, Wyatt. Can’t say I blame you at all.”

Wyatt turned to look at Kate, who was staring at him. Her face, though shocked, was wearing a smile. He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, and she, in return, slipped one round his waist. Together they walked out of the bay, leaving the noise and the crowd behind.

*
  
*
  
*
  
*
  
*

The party, like everything else since their arrival, was a huge affair. Bar droids rushed around in a frenzy, their memory chips already storing a hefty backlog of orders. The place was filled with the noise of thumping music and the background hubbub of idle conversation. The room heaved with people and the air was heavy with cigarette smoke.

He hadn’t bought a drink all night. Everybody else had offered to buy him one, every offer he had made had been declined. Already he had three drinks lined up on the bar behind him.

Acquaintances came and talked to him, rifling through the pleasantries before moving on, making excuses that there must be plenty of people who would want to see and talk to him and how they did not want to monopolize his time. He smiled and thanked them. Few asked about his experiences, and for that he was grateful. Some offered condolences for the crew they had lost. He would thank them, smile sadly before taking a sip of his drink and then steer the conversation on.

He cast his eyes around the room. He spotted Chris, talking animatedly with a team of young engineers in a corner of the room; and Bobby, too, had attracted her own fair share of male admirers. At the far end of the bar a collection of people bounced and gyrated to a popular tune. He chuckled to himself. It was good to see people enjoying themselves.

Smoke plumed from cigarettes held coyly in hands of women who sipped from blue and green drinks in cocktail glasses. Men overindulged in alcohol and laughed raucously in drunken huddles. It had been a long time since there had been an occasion this big on the moon-base.

For a moment, the room seemed to freeze and all eyes turned to the door. Wyatt followed the focus of attention and found Kate framed in the doorway. After a second, things seemed to return to normal, but his eyes never left her. All the lights in the room seemed dim in comparison to her. She looked beautiful.

She blushed, clearly self-conscious at the attention she had attracted. He slipped off his bar stool and made his way through the room towards her. Her eyes searched the room for him and when they found him they sparkled, flaring with recognition and delight. He took her by the hand and led her into the celebrations.

The party went on well into the early hours. The four friends were almost the last to leave. The last hour had been a series of goodbyes, handshakes and embraces. They were all exhausted.

They left the bar, took a turbo lift to their level, and spilled out into the corridor. The clinical whiteness was harsh to their tired eyes. Slowly, they weaved their way down the corridor, laughing as they supported each other along the way. They reached Bobby’s door first and bid her goodnight, and then the remaining three carried on.

When they reached the door to Kate’s suite they stopped. Chris still had a decent walk to reach his room.

“What are you going to do now, kid?” Wyatt asked him.

“I dunno, sir. I thought I might re-take the trapper exams.”

Wyatt frowned.

“What, after everything that’s happened?” Kate asked him, amazed.

“Because of what happened,” he told her. It was Kate’s turn to frown now. “Look, you’re all too polite to say anything now, but I was useless to you out there, in the beginning.”

“That’s not true!” Wyatt protested. “You almost certainly saved Bobby’s life, and without you, none of us would have made it back.”

“Maybe,” Chris said sadly, “But I watched my friend die, and I was powerless to help him. I have to live with that.”

There was an awkward silence between them for a moment and then Wyatt offered the youngster his hand. “Well, kid, if that’s what you really want. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“It is, sir. It is.” Chris took the hand and shook it. Wyatt yanked him close and embraced him, patting him on the back.

“Good luck, kid.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

They parted. “Oh, and kid, one more thing.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You don’t need to call me ‘sir.’ Okay?”

“Yes, si—” Chris smirked.

Silence descended on the three of them again. “What are you planning to do?” Chris asked.

“We’re going to take the shuttle back to Earth tomorrow.”

Chris eyed the pair of them suspiciously. “Are you two…? y’know?”