The Adventures of Deacon Coombs (6 page)

“May I now introduce to you Dithropolis, of Jabu. The Jabu live to be the equivalent of hundreds of Earth years. Dithropolis is a mere one hundred sixty Earth years old—far below the age at which Jabu are normally rewarded with statesmanship. But he has earned it.”

The multijointed creature extended one bony hand in a Jabu salute. Deacon examined the long, thin facial features with deep, furrowed eyes as he returned the gesture. He knew the Jabu detested physical contact with aliens, so he remained on his spot rather than advance, although he did extend his arm in a return salute.

“This is Raal from Mendalgon. The other members of the Council can tolerate Earth’s atmosphere for short periods, but Mendalgons require air cylinders and masks and their own air mixture to breathe comfortably on Earth.”

Deacon considered how Raal was typical of her race. The translucent body shifted in harmony every minute, approximating the look of Earth’s jellyfish. Multicolored limbs floated alongside her torso. She looked like a character from a pleasing night’s dream, but this was no dream and Deacon knew that of all the races in this room, Mendalgons, when provoked, were ferocious fighters possessing natural built-in defense weapons of poisonous and toxic emissions that could be expelled from their bodies with pinpoint accuracy to paralyze and kill a target, or injected by stingers at the ends of their limbs. Deacon became uncomfortable, as he didn’t know which pair of eyes to look at in order to return his acknowledgment. He bowed his head as the being whispered, “Villya, and thank you for coming.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Raal.”

“This is Eggu-Nitron, from Barnard’s Planet.” Deacon recognized the name of the chief security officer, now president. In a system infected with rebellious factions, Eggu-Nitron had somehow remained in control. “The people of Barnard’s Planet are the most similar to Earthmen, although Eggu-Nitron, at five foot five, would be considered tall for his race. His thick neck is just as wide as his anvil-shaped head, a characteristic of the race. Eggu-Nitron has been a valuable member of our High Council since joining, with his many voyages and experiences as a trader and soldier to many remote parts of the Alliance.”

Eggu-Nitron addressed Deacon affirmatively. “Your assistance will be much appreciated.” Eggu-Nitron broke rank and paced forward to shake Deacon’s hand and say “Villya.” Deacon said, “Villya,” and noticed the firm, locked handshake.

Landrew moved to firmly embrace the next introduction. “A newcomer to our group, Dreveney from Aralia, is serving in the painful absence of our beloved Como. Dreveney was the first to find Como’s body and stayed with him for hours to mourn his loss. Como’s dying words were uttered to Dreveney.”

Dreveney’s sad pink eyes conveyed his grief as he lifted his furry head, brushed the growth from over his eyes, and nodded to Deacon. “Villya, Coombs.”

Landrew motioned Deacon to sit between Rande and himself. Deacon examined Landrew further. He appeared to be a healthy, muscular specimen, his deep ebony skin in contrast to his glowing hazel eyes. His baritone voice resounded in the room.

“A sad and baffled High Council sits before you tonight, Mr. Coombs. In time you will understand our dilemma and why you have been summoned here. We do apologize for any inconveniences imposed by our hasty request. First, this chamber must be sealed.” Landrew motioned to Rande, who initiated the universal translator for Raal, Eggu-Nitron, and Dithropolis. Then he pressed two buttons to activate the prevention of any intrusion, physical or remote.

“Mr. Coombs, we have been assembled for hours before your arrival.” Small-eyed discs in the middle of the table spun rapidly to capture the minutes of each speaker. Landrew exhaled. “Out there, Mr. Coombs, light-years away from Earth, a danger lurks. After intense investigations, we do not have many clues to its identity, but the unsuspecting populace of the Alliance may be its prey.” Landrew had lost his smile. Deacon shuffled in his seat.

“Since Earth joined the Alliance, there have been no interplanetary wars. Indeed, this High Council, until recently, faced the challenge of retaining the state of peace, economic prosperity, and stability that has blessed us. Our achievements have included an increase in interplanetary trade, new mining settlements on moons and previously uninhabited planets, and stable effective government. With the exception of Eggu-Nitron’s internal unrest on Barnard’s Planet, we have focused on the robust economy of the Alliance. Our track record speaks for all of our efforts.” Landrew stretched his thick closed lips in satisfaction, as so often was his pose.

Xudur interrupted abruptly. “I too have been a part of these glorious achievements and have personally been involved longer than anyone else here to validate our success.” Her voice had gurgling tones as she barked at Deacon in a threatening, ominous way. “The High Council delivers a lifestyle that its inhabitants expect.”

Dithropolis spoke next, without Xudur’s permission. “Many are responsible for the stability of our world, Xudur’s modesty included.” Xudur snarled as the others were amused. “We all know the successes past and present, but recent developments have puzzled us, even cast doubts… upon our abilities.”

The Zentaurian was quick to reply. “My ability is never in question. He does not speak for me. However, I agree that it is not past glories that cause our anxiety, but a present danger.”

Landrew retook the conversation. “It has been policy of the High Council to never engage outside help, since we have our own security and investigative staffs. The mystery of the deaths of Como and Geor, however, are exceptions. The death of Como was a shock to us. Never a more trusted advisor shall we see again in our galaxy.” At this, Xudur glared at Landrew with resentment. The others looked toward Dreveney.

“Dreveney, will you please address us, painful as the events are? Please share your thoughts with Deacon Coombs.”

Dreveney placed his hands on the table but left his head bowed, his long hair covering his face. He spoke softly. “Aralians are incapable of committing suicide. It is not part of our genetic makeup. Yet the autopsy of Como and the investigation of the site do not lie. There was no way into, or out of, Como’s library… so… Como committed suicide. He alone held the instrument of his death. There is not a shred of evidence to suggest murder.” There was pause as Dreveney sobbed, and then sniffled. The others cast sympathetic looks his way except for Xudur, whose body language expressed her distaste at the outburst of emotion by the Aralian.

“As incredible as it seems, Mister Coombs, the single case of suicide in all of Aralia’s history is the death of its most beloved citizen, Como.” Staring at Deacon, his head erect and proud, his voice now firm, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “I hope that you will prove this conclusion to be erroneous.” Deacon nodded to acknowledge him.

“Perhaps,” Dreveney said, now speaking in anger, “Aralians are really going mad, as we have seen Como commit suicide and our once highly trusted advisor, Travers, indicted for the shameful sake of power and greed.”

“For clarification to all of you, no disrespect intended, I am neither a geneticist nor a psychiatrist,” said Deacon. “Madness and genetic imperfections may best be examined and analyzed by someone other than me with credentials that fit the problem.”

The Jabu shook his head to disagree with the sleuth. “Mr. Coombs, these are not the sole reasons we have invited you here tonight. Dreveney speaks only to the grief on Aralia.” Deacon took exception to the word
invite
, recalling the words regarding new orders if he resisted. He thought too of the escape from his abode, during which he had been carried away degradingly and secretively in a box, and then into an awaiting vehicle; then there was the imprisonment in his hotel. “All this for your security,” would be the answer if he complained.

Landrew elaborated on Travers’s situation. “Coupled with Como’s death are the incessant problems that our Aralian friend referred to with the Union of Space Traders. To now discover that an Aralian is responsible for these crimes compounds our bewilderment, for Aralians have always been the backbone of honesty and dependability in our alliance.”

Dithropolis commented next. “Most curious of all is the recent event involving space travel. Vespering has been a part of our everyday life. We, the Jabu, are meticulous people who are proud of our efficiencies. So we too are asking questions about the missing Aralian freighter and the security of Vespering and the subsequent return of the
Sleigher
. These events are so out of character. And when changes happen with this alarming frequency, we need to take heed.”

Eggu-Nitron’s shrill voice piped up. “The empty chair at the end of this table confirms the sudden chaos. Geor was both comrade and business associate. We are deeply saddened by his untimely death. It too has been described as an accident or suicide! Maybe the cure for madness is out of your area of expertise, Coombs, but the causes are not. That is my opinion.” Deacon had to be attentive, as the Barnardian spoke his words rapidly without pauses between any of the words or syllables, his mouth barely open. His coal-black clothing matched his hair and his swarthy, wrinkled complexion.

Deacon spoke up. “I solve crimes on a weekly basis from my home in Anglo for rich and poor, Earthling and Barnardian, utilizing the resources at Moonbeam. I just cannot ignore my current commitments to solve crimes of madness.”

Xudur stood, laughing and boldly shouting. “I told you all before this meeting that this Earthling is not the one. He is weak. He is not up to the challenge of this onerous assignment. He retreats already before he has heard all the facts. We need an individual of strength, of—”

“Quiet, Xudur!” Landrew said impatiently, rising and motioning to Xudur to sit down.

Feeling irritation compounded by insult, Deacon leaned into the table and stared up at her. “Princess Xudur, I feel the deepest loyalty to the Alliance; I feel this same deep commitment to whomever I have pledged my services to. Just tell me how I might inform my current clients that I have suddenly abandoned them.”

“You will not have to abandon them, for we have already put plans in place to satisfy their needs,” said Dithropolis.

“Without my consent?”

Landrew took up the cause. “Yes. You must give serious consideration to our plea. We have not the faintest idea how the deaths of Como and Geor and the charges against Travers and the Vespering tragedy are linked, but this group knows that four simultaneous crises demand an immediate investigation, and… we believe there remains the possibility that these four events are connected.” Before Deacon could reply, Landrew continued by waving his hand at him.

“The resources of this building will be at your complete disposal, as are the documents on these aforementioned incidents and the principals involved. The greatest known library is for your beckoning. Deacon Coombs, never has anyone been granted this opportunity to have this knowledge for their sole use. We have closed the library and history archives to the public just for you. That is how important a mission this is.”

Deacon cast a respectful glance at each member and then said, “And you obviously fear for your lives too. Certainly you must, since your congregation has been diminished by two.” Body language confirmed this without a word spoken as he panned the table and made eye contact with each.

Raal offered the confirmation in her soothing voice. “It is a self-centered concern, but our safety must be of concern to all inhabitants of the Alliance, since our deaths in such a short time would bring instability, anguish, and chaos everywhere. It might also provide the opportunity for dissidents to surface and conquer, or aliens to advance unchecked.”

“But I am but
one
being,” said Deacon. “What can one single human do against this unknown force?”

Xudur snapped back at him. “He is not the one. I’ve stated this before. He has not the courage! My comments now are officially on record.”

“Xudur, please,” said Raal, “Deacon Coombs is our guest.”

Deacon responded by saying, “I have courage, Xudur. It is sense that I seek. From what you have disclosed, you need someone else. I can’t comprehend how my skills suit these problems.”

Landrew stood and placed his arm around Deacon’s shoulders. “Deacon is correct. It is time to bring him into our complete confidence so he will understand the gravity of this situation. I will accompany him to the screening room myself. The rest of you will wait here. I will convey the imperative nature of our request by showing him the facts. He deserves to know.”

Landrew motioned to Rande to breach the security and then motioned to Deacon to follow him. As he did, he caught Xudor flashing disgusting scarlet flesh from inside her mouth at him. She knew that would annoy the detective. It did. The room was silent as he and Landrew departed.

In the abyss of the archives

The two men walked briskly, descending two flights of stairs before submerging in an elevator down into the abyss of the library. Deacon sized Landrew up. He appeared smaller on vidvision, probably because of the angles at which the cameramen captured him. He had read that Landrew never skipped his daily physical workouts. His stout, firm neck and muscular arms were a testament to his exercising rituals.

As the carriage came to rest, Landrew spoke. “We are five to six hundred feet below ground level.” As Landrew marched forward, the colorful crimson jewelry that adorned his neck, wrists, and torso provided a brass symphony. He halted. A long, elegant aristocratic nose was his most striking facial feature. His eyes glimmered beneath a high, proud forehead, while his stern chin accented two overly thick black lips, so characteristic of his Central-Africo tribe. They stood before a silver portal. Landrew exhibited the familiar intense look that the public was accustomed to.

He punched a code into a box and then bent to submit retina and skin DNA scans. A red light flashed as it replied, “Villya, Landrew.”

“Hello, Bella. It has been three days since I last visited Venus.” The computer released the door after performing the voice scan and identifying the code words. The two walked a short distance to a small amphitheater, where Landrew addressed another black box at the open entry. “Please confirm identity of my friend.” He motioned to Deacon to move in front of a red scanning beam. Deacon felt as if he were standing naked before the serpentine eye. “Villya, Deacon Coombs.” Landrew extended his arm in a gesture that beckoned Deacon to move inside.