The Adventures of Deacon Coombs (7 page)

The tiny theater had comfortable seating for twenty in recliners facing a wall screen. “This is my private viewing room. The three videos that you will witness have been seen only by the other members of the High Council plus Como and Geor.” He entered a code into a panel on the chair’s arm and then inserted a disc.

Deacon sat anxiously awaiting. “I hope my role becomes more transparent.”

“The first clip was sent to me by Geor’s mate, Geolo, whom you may recall spent three years here on Earth as Globiana’s ambassador to Earth. Geor, Geolo, my wife, and I became good friends during that period.” Deacon fondly remembered his relationship with Geor when Geor was posted on Earth.

On the screen, the puffy red face of Geolo appeared, hardly recognizable to Deacon. “Landrew, my dear friend,” she said, “I am sick with grief over the unexpected loss of my beloved partner, Geor.” Her swollen eyes were imbued with a pink discoloration. Deacon realized that it was characteristic of Globianans to exhibit swelling in the facial area during times of suffering. Now her small upper limbs cupped her head as her middle limbs flailed.

“He was a great diplomat, and a nobler person did I, I… I… excuse me. In all our years, he never did anything that I should consider remotely shameful. Our people implicitly trusted his judgment. They followed him wherever he led us. In Globiana’s recent bout of economic instability, it was Geor who saw the way to pecuniary recovery. Geor sacrificed his entire life to enhance the prosperity of our people and the protection of Globiana.”

She sobbed and sighed. “His death is more unsettling to me than anyone suspects. In confidence now, I send you, Landrew, my deepest-harbored thoughts. As you know, Geor had been wrestling with the Travers case. The chief of the Union of Space Traders escaped our clutches in the first attempt to convict him of treason, but Geor vowed to place him in the celetron prisons since he blamed Travers for holding ransom the medical supplies for Bruu’un during the epidemic there.

“Unbelievably,” she said, her voice strained, “I could hardly comprehend it when Geor informed me that the charges against Travers should be dropped. My Geor despised everything that Travers stood for, and now he comes to the conclusion that there is not enough evidence for a retrial, only one day after Como viewed the same evidence and shared with all Aralians that Travers should be charged? There is something wrong here.” Geolo broke into a wail as she disappeared from the screen. Landrew paused the viewing and turned to Deacon.

“Geor was evaluating conspiracy charges against Travers. Obviously, we wanted the blaggard removed as the executive of the traders’ union to provide for a renewed honest management. Travers escaped our clutches in the first trial, and the not guilty verdict was a huge disappointment to many. With the unchecked power of the Trade Union, Geor was preparing for the retrial with the hope of acting as co-lead or sole lead in the prosecution. I too was astonished to hear Geolo’s remarks. Let’s continue.”

“Wait! Why was Geor personally investigating this?”

“Geor was closest to the original trial. He aided the prosecutors and blamed himself for the poor efforts of the prosecution when we failed to convict Travers. I could not refuse his request when he asked to be appointed to prepare the retrial.”

“Surely Geor had other business on Globiana to tend to. It has never been the responsibility of a member of the High Council to personally prosecute a trial. Also, Geor is not a skilled criminal attorney. He does not have the litigation skills. Landrew, this aspect seems out of character.”

“You are correct on all counts. But I neglected to tell you that it was on Geor’s advice that we hastily moved the first trial date forward. He bore a heavy conscience when we failed in the courtroom. You must also know that Geor held Travers personally responsible for the death of his only son when he was killed in the traders’ revolt at Revonna.”

Deacon suddenly recalled this incident. “It sounds to me that emotions play a larger role in this, Landrew, than the process of justice. It also seems so out of character, for I too knew Geor. I also wonder why the High Council thinks that one man, Travers, is so dangerous in a world of billions.”

“You will soon see.” Landrew recommenced the message from Geolo.

“There is more to my story, Landrew. As I said, I knew this man intimately. It wasn’t just this case that bothered me. My Geor is dead. He drank a potion that he knew would kill him. The vile odor of the chiachia liquid is clearly recognizable. We all identified its odor as we ran into the courtyard. The acid ripped his innards apart. Ooh, aah, my poor Geor. Ach, it’s too late. I feel… that somehow evil is at work here; that murder, not madness, is at play. Please do not accept the verdict as it stands. Ach, please, Landrew, help me. Something is terribly wrong. I know it. I know it. My Geor was somehow murdered, and the murderer of Geor is now free.” Geolo’s face contorted as she spat out the word
murderer
.

The remainder of the tape was a eulogy to Geor, as Geolo recounted his endless feats of bravery and leadership. In a wild fury of weeping and wailing, Geolo ended the recording with yet another plea for help from Landrew.

Landrew stood in front of Deacon. “It cannot be a coincidence that two of our members died under suspicious circumstances. I, like Geolo, have inklings of foul play, except I cannot prove it without facts—facts that I do not have and you must find.”

Deacon stood and, with outstretched arms, said, “Hence the arrival of Deacon Coombs.” The mild comic relief washed away Landrew’s consternation for a moment until he captured Deacon’s attention again.

“This second register that we are about to witness is very disturbing. It was recorded six years ago, and the original has remained locked away in a security vault ever since. Let me tell you the background.”

Landrew descended into a seat beside the detective. He folded his arms and leaned over toward Deacon. “Six years ago, a space trading vessel was forced off of major passage routes to avoid a severe cosmic storm. The ship did not escape without damage and drifted aimlessly while repairs were conducted. She wandered into an area of space that had remained uncharted by the Alliance largely because of the frequency and voracity of the magnetic storms in the quadrant.

“There she landed out of necessity on a sunless planet. Lured by what looked like fires, a landing party explored the surface. On that lightless planet exists a race so cruel, so violent, and so repulsive that these films have remained in secrecy ever since. The life forms are hideous by any standards. They are a demented, untamed, primitive society living day-to-day in a dark, dank, overpopulated world. There was nothing to be gained by interfacing with these squalid heathens, so it was decided to keep this incident and the planet’s location a secret. Contact by the Alliance would only interfere with their evolution and might attract curious space game hunters.”

“What about the recollection of the landing party?”

“They were administered a mild drug upon return to erase the memories of this incident. These savages have the minds of children, the physical strength of mature, virile thirty-year-old Earthmen, and the ferociousness of the wildest beasts on Jabu. As with Earth when the Alliance first discovered our planet, the High Council unanimously agreed to let this civilization evolve untouched. So false charts were issued, and trade lanes were redefined to provide a quarantine to guarantee the planet’s safety.”

Deacon examined a still photo. The beings were covered in matted fur and had two limbs with sharp claws at the end of each finger. Long fangs protruded out of their frothy, drooling mouths. Landrew commenced by injecting the disc into the arm of the chair.

On the large screen, several beings appeared as slimy humanoids with large, cumbersome jaws. In the background he saw one of the traders, so he was able to place the creatures at around six and a half feet tall. Suddenly, two creatures jolted into the group and began to smash other creatures with wooden clubs. This was followed by inane prancing rituals.

“Let’s fast-forward. As you can see, Deacon, the planet’s surface is very rocky, with only scant signs of erosion, indicating diminished wind action or brief seasons with minimal surface runoff. Large bonfires rage, probably drawing their fuel from mineral sources since there is very little vegetation observed. Primitive signs of tribal life are evolving, as sentries are posted while other savages sleep. There is more of the same—beatings, rituals. Recently, and quite unexpectedly, a second film of these savages came into our possession. Pay close attention.”

Deacon did, and with clearer detail on this version, he saw much of the same as on the first tape.

“Watch this,” Landrew said.

As Deacon leaned forward to the screen to see some bestial dancing, one of the beings approached the fire. To Deacon’s amazement, the savage revealed an instrument from under his cloak. The natives clapped furiously, working themselves into frenzy. As Deacon stood directly in front of the screen to try to inspect what the creature held, a laser gun fired into the dying embers, and suddenly an inferno flared. The film ended.

“We have no idea how a weapon of this nature got into the hands of such savages. There is no record at the nearest Vesper stations of any ship traveling here, or even filing a flight plan to here. So how did a ship get behind our security lines? And for what purposes?”

“I noticed that the weapon appeared to be a recent five-fold model, Landrew, so that rules out someone on the previous expedition from six years ago leaving it behind.”

“Very observant of you. Strange happenings on Aralia, on Globiana, and on Nix.”

“Nix?”

“Yes, the Aralian word for ‘out of bounds.’ Hence the inhabitants are Nicosians.”

“So these primitive savages have somehow obtained a weapon, or weapons. But, Landrew, these Nicosians are no threat to the Alliance. They have no means of travel and can’t be recruited, because of their low mental abilities. They are technically inferior, thousands of light-years distant!”

“Deacon, first the loss of two key leaders, then the betrayal of Travers, then the malfunctioning Vesper beam resulting in the disappearance of the
Sleigher
, the grave problems within the traders’ union, then the creation of this tape within the forbidden zone. Lastly, the laser gun acquired by these savages. And all of this in such a short time frame. Such a plethora of surprises! Coincidence? I say not! And so do my comrades. Please don’t ignore our experience and instincts.”

“Okay, I am curious. Suspects, please. I’m interested in your opinion, Landrew.”

“Number-one suspect is Travers. The traders’ union has grown too powerful. They have their own private arsenal, as demonstrated by recent skirmishes. They are shrewd navigators, savvy negotiators, and their union grossly outnumbers all our armies and security forces. Most importantly, Travers has the undying loyalty of all his members. He commands a spell over them. His true headquarters are unknown to us. His influence may have reached into the jurors of his trial.”

“You are suggesting that he bribed the jury?”

“With all our precautions we took, yes. The traders have recently incited riots, smuggled arms to the enemies of this government, held cargoes for ransom, and traded for illegal drugs and goods. It is a shame to admit this, but the Alliance has lost control of the Union of Space Traders. They are not capable of self-governance, and we are not capable of wrestling the power away from them. Dreveney recently arrived at these same conclusions in an internal memo about this union. Eggu-Nitron bears the scars of their recent illegal activities on his planet, which he believes may give support to the rebels there.”

“I still need convincing. What possible motive could the traders have to murder Como and Geor? To triumph over the Alliance? They can’t possibly conquer humanity as we know it. They may be large in numbers, but they are totally underarmed. They are not a military threat! They don’t have the weaponry of your high-tech armies.”

“Here is a dossier on Travers. You investigate. You report back to me, Mister Detective.” Landrew handed him a small chip to plug into his handheld device and then pulled a folder from beside him.

“Number-two suspect is Ochman, the new ruler of Zentaur. Even Xudur is suspicious of his current mobilization of troops for a land at peace. His forces travel off the planet frequently. Where? Xudur doesn’t know! Xudur believes that Ochman possesses blind ambition and is mentally unstable. Unfortunately, elections are still distant to replace him. Zentaurians by nature are an aggressive race, and Ochman is the most aggressive leader ever.”

Deacon facetiously said, “They are an aggressive race, admittedly.” He disbelieved this lead.

“Number three, the Egocentric Rebels. As with every generation, there are discontent malefactors and terrorists. We have this irritation. While they have no anointed leader, they follow a doctrine, and they are spreading their brand of terrorist ideology through attacks.”

Deacon stared back at Landrew. The High Council seemed to be leading him down blind paths.
Purposely?
he wondered. “All three of these leads could be routed by galactic forces, quelled by legislation to place these people at huge disadvantages by implementing severe punishments. What chance has a lightly armed space trade freighter against a battalion of Alliance fighters? What chances have rebellious youths to conquer the Alliance and win against Alliance forces? Ochman’s army pales in comparison to your Owler battalions. Maybe you suppress the truth to me? Maybe there are no bona fide leads?”

“I appreciate your honesty, Deacon. Let us move on.” Now his tone changed as stony features embraced his facial muscles. “Number four.” Landrew shifted in his seat. “There is the possibility that these events are a prelude to alien invasion. We consider ourselves to be so damn smart. Perhaps we are being invaded and this is a kind of test to determine how much panic and disruption can be achieved before the main alien forces arrive, a few isolated incidents to ascertain whether we are smart enough to detect the infection. Perhaps this is a test of our mettle.”