The Last Flight of the Argus (30 page)

“
B’taav was right to take precautions,” Cer said. She now held the only weapon, having taken B’taav’s knife and demanded Maddox disarm himself as well. “I assume he told you about Rasp?”

“
Yeah,” Maddox said. “He was stabbed?”

“
While he slept.”

“
May I retrieve my weapon now?”

Instead of answering, Inquisitor Cer picked it up.

“
Allow me to hold it, for the time being.”

She put Maddox’s and her guns into holsters on her belt.

“
Fine,” Maddox muttered. “Let’s see the body.”

B’taav,
Nathaniel, Maddox, and Cer walked back to the door leading into Rasp’s room. The three Mercs were standing just inside the room. Each of the men carried a Bandera Fusion rifle.

The Merc with the harshest features stepped forward as B’taav and his group approached. He aimed his fusion rifle at them. In his burly hands, the fearsome weapon looked like a toy.

“
Who goes there?” he asked.

“
It’s me,” Maddox said. “I’m with Inquisitor Cer and Nathaniel.”

“
Don’t forget me,” B’taav said. “We wouldn’t want them to think I’m not part of this group, too.”

“
Yeah. It would be too bad if they thought you were a meddling outsider and shot first and asked questions later.”

Inquisitor Cer pushed past Maddox and stepped up to the Merc.

“
Is the area secured, Balthazar?” she asked.

“
Yes ma’am,” the Merc identified as Balthazar said. His eyes drifted from Cer to B’taav. His mouth twisted into a grimace.

“
Is everyone accounted for?”

“
They are now. Everyone else is in there.”

Balthazar pointed to Rasp’s room.

“
Good.” Cer faced the other two Mercs and said: “Melchor, Kaspar, you two scout the corridors. Though the odds are very low, there is the possibility we might have an intruder.”

“
Yes ma’am,” the two remaining Mercs said. They walked past B’taav and Maddox and disappeared into the darkness.

Inquisitor Cer motioned to B’taav, Maddox, and Nathaniel. Maddox put his arm around Nathaniel’s shoulder and pushed him forward. B’taav followed along but at the entrance to Rasp’s room Balthazar pressed the barrel of his gun against the Independent’s chest.

Inquisitor Cer noticed Balthazar’s actions and was about to say something. She didn't have to.

“
Let the Independent in.”

The voice was female, older. It was the gray haired lady. She spoke as she reached out to embrace Nathaniel.

Balthazar sneered at the Independent but nonetheless stepped aside.

B’taav entered Rasp’s room. The remaining members of the escape sled, with the exception of the three Mercs, were inside. The gray haired lady escorted Nathaniel away from Rasp’s corpse and to the far side of the room. They came to a stop before Stephen Gray, the morose man in white, and the man B’taav identified as a Phaecian Cardinal.

After a few seconds of talking with her boy, the gray haired lady approached Inquisitor Cer.

“
You two found Rasp?”

“
We did.”

“
Did you see who did this?”

“
No ma’am.”

“
Any ideas?”

“
No ma’am.”

“
Well, I certainly have some.”

The gray haired stared deep into the black pools of B’taav’s eyes.

“
You’ve already had one run in with Rasp, Independent. Did you have another?”

“
No.”

“
He’s innocent of this,” Cer said.

“
Are you certain, Inquisitor? Rasp’s murder was a cowardly act. Such actions are within the realm of an Independent’s work.”

“
Whether typical of Independents or not, my lady, B’taav and I were together at all times up until the discovery of Rasp's corpse. This I would swear, even to my Cardinal.”

The gray haired lady nodded, but was disappointed blame for this barbarous act could not be so easily determined.

“
We’ll get to the bottom of this, Francis,” the man in white said.

B’taav stared at the gray haired lady and her boy.

“
Francis?” he said. He recognized her at last. “Francis Lane?”

“
You know me?” she said. “Yes, I suppose you do at that.”

B'taav didn't have anything to add.

“
If you weren’t responsible for Rasp’s murder, Independent, then one of us was,” she said.

“
Was anything touched?” Inquisitor Cer asked.

“
No,” the man in white said.

Cer took a long look at the room and its inhabitants.

“
When was the last time each of you saw Rasp?”

“
Earlier today, just after breakfast,” the man in white volunteered. “He wasn’t too happy, understandably, about what B’taav did to him yesterday. Maddox looked after him, making sure he didn’t do anything rash. The rest of the group, everyone but B’taav and you, Inquisitor Cer, were there, eating.”

“
How about after breakfast? Anyone saw him then?”

“
I did,” Maddox said. “I kept watch on him through the morning, just as Mr. Frasier said.”

B’taav eyed the man in white. Though he didn’t recognize the man, the name was familiar.

“
He was quite angry,” Maddox continued. “It took a great deal of effort to keep him from visiting the
Xendos
. We –
I
– wasted far too much time babysitting him. Around lunch I got in touch with Ms. Lane and we decided to lace his meal with sedatives."

“
You gave him spiked food?” Frasier said.

“
Yes sir,” Maddox said. “He was out in twenty minutes. I dragged him back to this room and laid him on the bed. Then I went back to the ship and—”

“
Did you see him again?

“
No sir.”

“
Did anyone else see him after he was dragged here?”

There was no answer.

“
One of you did,” B’taav finally said.

“
If you have a suspect, feel free to enlighten us as to who it is, Independent,” Frasier said.

Maddox fold his arms across his chest. Was he hiding the stain on his right sleeve? It was hard to tell.

“
I have none,” B’taav said. He shook his head. “We’re wasting time. Time we don’t have. We could spend hours going over each other's itinerary, checking to see if we have the motive, and opportunity, to kill Rasp. But our priority remains getting off this rock and as far away from Lieutenant Daniels as possible.”

“
Then you should get back to work,” Maddox said.

“
Not until you tell me what this is about.”

“
Are you crazy?” Maddox spat.

“
At this point, you have to tell me. It is no longer debatable.”

“
You
are
crazy.”

“
Every second that passes where we don’t identify Rasp’s killer is another second where our lives, each and every one of our lives, is in danger. Rasp’s murder was clearly a crime of opportunity. He was alone in this room, asleep, and far enough away from everyone else that he could be picked off without much effort and without anyone seeing. One of you is thinning the herd. One of you is here for their own purposes. And it won’t be the last time he, or she, strikes.”

The eyes of the passengers floated from face to face, as if trying to read their partners’, their associates’, their friends’ minds.

“
Unless I know exactly what we’re doing out here, I can’t trust any of you.”

“
You’re asking us to explain ourselves?” Maddox mocked the Independent. “No. You’ve received all the information you’re getting. From here on out, you’ll follow orders.”

“
What if these orders come from the mouth of Rasp’s murderer?” B’taav said. “Do you really want me to do whatever any of you ask, blindly, when that might be the case?”

The room grew silent. Francis Lane rubbed her chin and sighed.

“
You can’t seriously be thinking…” Maddox began, and then paused. “You’re not going to do what he asks, are you?”

“
The Independent's right. Why should he trust any of us?” she said. “What if the murderer orders him to do something that jeopardizes our mission? How would he know if the order is legitimate if he doesn't know what we're doing?”

“
This is insanity!”

“
I know where you stand, Maddox,” B’taav said. “Why don’t you let the others decide for themselves?”

Again the group eyed each other. Despite their weariness, despite their fear, they realized there was truth in B’taav’s words.

“
It’s time we talked,” Francis Lane said.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

The
group entered what was once the main conference room of the
Xendos
and sat before the room’s single long table.

Francis Lane motioned for B’taav to sit before her, and he did so. Ned Frasier, Stephen Gray, and the Phaecian Cardinal sat on the other side of the table and faced the Independent. Melchor, Kaspar, and Balthazar assumed positions outside the room while Maddox and Nathaniel sat beside the door and out of the way. Like the Mercs, Inquisitor Cer chose to remain standing. She held the space between the door and the conference table.

When everyone was in place, Stephen Gray began the meeting.

“
I would formally introduce myself,” he told the Independent. “But you already know who I am.”

“
Yes I do, Mr. Gray. Your reputation as one of Epsillon’s finest business men is equal only to your being an uncompromising patriot.” B’taav paused and motioned to both Francis Lane and the Phaecian Cardinal. “So what are you doing with these two?”

“
How well do you know them?” Gray inquired.

“
Francis Lane is an aide to the regency of what is left of the old Epsillon Empire and her monarchy,” B’taav said. “Today’s Epsillon Empire neither recognizes her political party or their control over several lesser systems at our far borders. Given how small the systems are, neither have they made a big issue about their claims.” B’taav’s eyes turned from Stephen Gray and toward Francis Lane. “It was your monarchy that got us into the Erebus War.”

“
We are no longer a true monarchy,” Francis Lane said. “We refer to ourselves as the Old Epsillon Empire. The new Empire may not give us much thought, but we exist nonetheless.”

“
So we have a high level representative from the new Epsillon Empire and a representative of the Old Empire,” B'taav said. His gaze settled on the Phaecian Cardinal. “Joining them is you. Considering the shared history of these three distinguished members, it’s not too surprising there’s a murderer among us. Cardinal, you’re an awful long way from home.”

“
You may address me by my name, Independent. Saro Triste.”

“
As you wish, Cardinal Triste.”

“
Given your knowledge of the others, perhaps I should be insulted that you didn’t recognize me as well,” the Cardinal continued. His voice was deep and commanding. He was used to intimidating his subjects.

“
Don’t take my lack of knowledge as an insult,” B’taav said and smiled. “The galaxy is quite large. I have yet to memorize the names of everyone of importance within it.”

The man in white, the only member sitting at the table not to formally identify himself, said: “I’m Ned Frasier. I’m a local at the
Titus
space station. It was my job to look at the material that came in from the scavengers.”

“
All material?”

“
Certain
material.”

“
Are you sure you want to do this, Ned?” Maddox said. “Once you speak, we can no longer go back. Think about what you’re doing.”

“
We have,” Francis Lane said.

The bartender's opinion no longer mattered.

“
Then get on with it,” Maddox growled.

They took their time to talk and B’taav wondered who would be the first to reveal their secrets. Stephen Gray chose himself.

“
Given our diversity, you probably suspect us of some kind of treason against our respective political systems,” Stephen Gray said. “That is the furthest thing from the truth. We came together because of a unique threat. A threat that could well result in the resumption of the Erebus War.”

“
I’m listening.”

“
As you know, the Erebus War ended in the destruction of almost every single one of the Old Epsillon and Phaecian Empire’s most fearsome warships,” he continued. “What you and almost everyone else do not know is that this was by
design
.”

“
Design?” B’taav repeated. “You mean this was planned?”

“
Yes.”

“
By the Gods, why?”

“
Our leaders were not fools,” Saro Triste said. “Even if they were foolish enough to allow events to spiral out of control and push both Empires to the brink of war.”