Chiral Justice: A Hard Science Fiction Technothriller (The Biogenesis War Book 3)

by L. L. Richman

  {That badge of hers is coming in handy tonight,} Micah commented.

  Thad grunted as he stopped another curiosity-seeker from trying to get a better look at the victim. {By the time this wraps up, I’m going to owe that woman a lot more than a nice dinner.}

  The medics stopped in front of Sam, and she beckoned impatiently to one of them. He handed her the medical bracer he had tucked under one arm. Shoving her hand into the gauntlet, Sam’s fingers danced over its controls as she brought the unit to life.

  The medics staffing the stasis pod bent to lift the body, but she snapped a quick command, halting them so she could conduct her exam. The pod hummed softly, hovering between them while the two medics waited.

  Sam’s gauntleted hand traveled from the entry wound in the man’s forehead to the ones in his chest, the bracer cataloguing each injury as she went. She ended the exam by placing her hand against the man’s neck. After a second, she nodded and motioned the medics forward.

  They lifted the body into the unit and sealed the lid. Micah could just make out a faint blue glow emanating from the pod when the unit cycled on, signaling the body had entered stasis.

  The crowd that had stuck around to gawk dissipated quickly once the body had been removed.

  As the medics piled back into the shuttle and Sam retraced her steps back to them, Thad motioned Micah closer.

  “What in hell went down here?” he asked in a low voice.

  Micah scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Damned if I know. We’d just crossed the street when the man ran up to us. He called us by name, but before he could say anything else, he was shot. That’s about it—except projectiles that cause wounds like his usually travel fast. We should have heard a sonic crack, and we didn’t.”

  Thad nodded. “That tracks with what Ell found—or rather, didn’t find. No evidence of a shooter.”

  “If there was no shooter, then how’d he die?” Micah didn’t try to hide the skepticism in his voice.

  “I can think of one way.” Sam’s gaze was troubled, and Micah could see her mind working, analyzing. “Right before he died, the man said something… something that might explain it.”

  “What was it, cher?”

  She looked Thad in the eye. “Chiral.”

  OBELUS

  Joint Operations Command Headquarters

  Parliament Hill

  St. Clair Township, Ceriba

  Twenty Kilometers away, in Joint Operations Command Headquarters, General Harris Carlisle whipped his head around angrily at the sound of his office door opening.

  “Dammit, I said no interrup—”

  The words clogged in his throat as he caught sight of the person standing in the open doorway.

  Jackknifing from his chair, he stumbled back, hitting the credenza that lined the wall. The papers he’d been reading scattered on the floor as they fell from nerveless fingers.

  They should have been stopped at the entrance; security was tight at Joint Operations Command, just as tight as it was up the hill, at Parliament House itself. And yet here they stood.

  Remembered pain caused his heart to race, panic welling. Carlisle felt his hand tremble, and he shoved the betraying limb deep into his pocket, his other supporting him against the wooden sideboard.

  “I’m gratified to see you haven’t forgotten me, General,” the woman said as she glided to a stop in front of his desk.

  The two men with her rounded the obstacle, coming to stand on either side of him. His knees threatened to give way as mental pictures began to replay in his mind.

  A dark chamber. His body, stripped bare. Cold, hard metal—and pain, so much pain.

  “What do you want?” he rasped, his eyes shifting rapidly between them, prey frozen in place by an apex predator.

  “I warned you. There is no place you can retreat where we cannot reach.” She smiled, and it was a cold thing.

  A quick nod to the man on her left brought the glint of steel as the man raised his fisted hand. Carlisle’s eyes caught with sick fascination on the set of molded metal rings the man wore. He recognized the fist-load weapon for what it was: a simple device to concentrate the force of a strike, inflicting maximum damage to tissue and bone.

  As the man advanced, Carlisle was unable to tear his eyes away from it.

  “Call this… a refresher,” the woman continued. “A reminder that your life belongs to Akkadia now, and you serve at the pleasure of Obelus.”

  Carlisle ripped his terror-filled gaze from the advancing threat and over to the woman. He began to shake his head, slowly at first, then with increasing vehemence. “Not necessary. I told you I’d comply.”

  The woman’s eyes grew intense. “We are here to ensure that you do.”

  She motioned to the other man. He spun Carlisle around, securing his arms behind his back. The general felt something cold hiss against his neck, and the embedded wire in his head instantly muted. He scrabbled after it mentally, but his connection to the Joint Operations network had been severed.

  The man in front of him drew his fist back, and then powered it forward in an explosive jab.

  Agony exploded along Carlisle’s ribcage, and he realized whatever they’d injected him with was also blocking his medical nano. He should have felt a measure of relief almost immediately after the blow landed; instead, the pain bloomed and intensified as the man’s fists pummeled him again and again.

  They worked him over with silent efficiency, the blows carefully placed to remain unseen.

  Finally, they were done. The man holding him released him, and Carlisle sagged to the carpeted floor, his breaths coming in shallow gasps.

  A shadow loomed, the woman’s voice sounding in his ear.

  “Now, listen carefully, and I will tell you about your first assignment….”

  DEBRIEF

  The Hill – Fine Dining District

  Downtown Montpelier, Ceriba

  Despite Ell stepping in to claim the incident as an NCIC investigation, it took another hour before the Montpelier police cut Micah and Sam loose.

  Sam couldn’t shake the sense of unease she felt when the CID transport carrying the dead body began to pull away from the restaurant. She turned to where Micah and Thad stood quietly conversing a few meters away. Just beyond them, she could see Ell talking quietly with local authorities. It looked like the NCIC agent was close to wrapping things up.

  Sam looked back at the transport as she stepped close to Micah. Its taillights flashed brightly as the vehicle braked at the end of the street. On impulse, she pinged the driver.

  {Hold up, I’m coming with you.}

  The driver sent his assent, and she saw the ambulance-sized vehicle pull over to the side of the street.

  She turned back to Micah and Thad. “I have a feeling about this. I know they want to question me about what I saw, but I don’t really want to let that stasis pod out of my sight.”

  Thad shot her an approving look. “No worries, cher. We’ll handle it.”

  Sam gave Thad a quick smile and reached out to squeeze Micah’s hand. “Raincheck on dinner?”

  Micah’s return smile was lopsided. “Plan on it.”

  She jogged toward the end of the street where the transport awaited. Murmuring her thanks to the medic who opened the passenger door, Sam slid into the small space just behind the front seats.

  She glanced through the pass-through window at the stasis pod they’d loaded into the back as the driver took off once again, reassured by the steady glow of the blue ES field. She checked her chronometer; they should be at the center within ten minutes, easily.

  With a relieved breath, she sat back in her seat.

  * * *

  The deep rumble of a ship-to-surface shuttle sounded, drawing Micah’s attention away from the round of handshakes that meant they were free to go.

  {Shuttle’s here,} he called out unnecessarily.

  {Caught that, ami.}

  Thad turned toward the waiting ship, Micah falling into step next to
him. Behind them, Ell promised to send the officers a copy of the final report.

  Micah exchanged a hooded look with Thad. {That ought to be an interesting bit of fiction.}

  Quick footsteps sounded on the pavement behind them. When Ell caught up to them, she slid Micah a glance.

  {That’s what probies are for, Captain,} she deadpanned.

  Micah’s lips twitched in amusement as she swept past and stepped up into the shuttle’s open hatch.

  {Glad I’m not a probie, then,} he said, following her inside.

  Micah wished he’d been able to talk Sam into coming along with them, but he couldn’t fault her for wanting to accompany the medics to the CID. At least the trip back up to the base would be a quick one.

  He spotted Boone waiting for them as the shuttle slipped into the task force’s hangar. Beside him stood Asha, the team’s medic. Boone lifted a chin in greeting as they piled out of the ship.

  “Heard you had an exciting evening,” Asha said as he, Ell, and Thad neared.

  Thad grunted. “You could say that.”

  Boone lifted a brow and exchanged a look with Ell, but refrained from commenting as they all piled into the lift.

  The smell of greasy pizza assaulted Micah’s nose, and his stomach chose that moment to remind him he’d missed dinner.

  “Sounds like someone’s hungry,” observed Boone with a laugh as the lift began to rise.

  Micah shot him a sour look. “Having someone chase you down and die right in front of you has a way of messing with dinner plans.”

  “Come on, then.” Thad jerked his chin in the direction of the team’s bullpen when the lift doors opened. “The colonel had Hyer order in. There should be plenty to go around.”

  Asha sent him a scowl. “You sure about that, sir? Have you seen how much that woman eats? I have no idea where she puts it all.”

  An alarmed look crossed Boone’s face. Thad’s laugh boomed out when the sniper bolted for the operations center, ostensibly to try to rescue some of the food from Hyer’s hands.

  “Asha’s right,” he called over his shoulder. “Better hustle if you want anything.”

  The medic groaned and broke into a jog, following after him.

  Chief Warrant Katie Hyer’s metabolism was legendary. The fact she could eat anything she wanted and not gain a pound was a sore spot with the rest of the women on the team—and some of the men.

  Micah spotted her the moment the doors to the bullpen slid open. Tall and with a shock of blue fuzz atop her head, Hyer was hard to miss.

  She was young, still in her twenties, and a natural-born pilot. Her life on the mining platforms had also given her plenty of experience with the mechanics of a ship.

  Gabriel Alvarez, the task force’s second-in-command, had seen this ability firsthand and recruited her to the unit. Her unique skillset meant she’d been tapped to cross-train as both flight engineer and pilot for the team.

  A quick glance around told Micah that most of the headquarters element and the rest of the team had been pulled together for this debrief.

  Gabe lifted his head in greeting and waved him over, but another rumble in his gut sent Micah in a different direction. At his quick hand motion toward the table, heavily laden with food, Gabe nodded his understanding as Micah diverted to load up a plate.

  He’d just grabbed a seat and popped the seal on a water bottle when the head of the Special Reconnaissance Unit appeared in the doorway.

  “Tell me what we know.” Colonel Tala Valenti cut directly to the topic as her hands came to rest on the back of the empty seat at the head of the table.

  Hyer waved one pizza-laden hand. “Well, some dude just dropped dead right in front of Micah.” Her gaze remained fixed on the string of gooey cheese dripping off the side as she looped it expertly around a finger and then popped it into her mouth.

  She froze when Valenti’s dry voice cut in.

  “Other than that.”

  Katie lowered the pizza, shot Gabe an apologetic look, and then turned to the colonel. In a much more subdued voice, she said, “Sorry, Colonel. Guess that was stating the obvious.”

  {Always a good idea to remember who cuts our paychecks, Chief.} Gabe’s mental tone held mild reproof.

  Katie was renowned for her tendency to say whatever was on her mind. She just put it all out there, with no filter. The team didn’t care, but Gabe had been working with her to try to curb that tendency whenever the brass stopped by.

  Colonel Valenti looked around at those assembled. “Well? As the chief said, a man dropped dead in front of Captain Case. I want to know why.” Her expressionless gaze lingered on Katie for another moment before her eyes landed on Micah. “Captain?” she invited.

  Micah wished once more that Sam had accompanied them.

  He shook his head, his eyes defocusing as he transported himself back mentally to the minutes just before the man had called his name. “Not a lot to tell, really. Doctor Travis and I were crossing the street in downtown Montpelier when I heard someone shout my name.”

  Valenti’s stare bored into him. “He called you by name.”

  “Yes. Sam, too. Before he had a chance to say anything else, he was shot. Or at least, he gave a really good impression of someone who’d been shot,” he amended.

  Valenti’s eyes cut to Thad’s. “Severance?”

  The big Marine frowned, his eyes wandering to Ell as he thought. “It looked like he’d taken a head shot, and then two more, center mass. He was dead when I arrived.”

  “What kind of shot?”

  Thad squinted. “Sure gave a fine impression of a 6.8 mm round, burned through his skull. Problem is, there was no evidence of a bullet anywhere we could find.”

  “We,” Valenti repeated. She swiveled, her attention now on Ell. “You were there as well.”

  “I was. We were a few minutes behind Captain Case, so we weren’t there to see the incident when it happened.” Ell’s mouth turned down in an unhappy line. “I had a single standard NCIC-issue crime scene drone with me. It scanned the most likely spots a shooter would have used.”

  “Conclusion?”

  Ell shook her head. “No weapon residue. No lingering heat signature.”

  The colonel turned to Micah. “I find it interesting that Doctor Travis insisted there was no shooter. How could she possibly know this?”

  “Beyond the fact there was no sonic crack that accompanied the bullet?” Micah shook his head. “I didn’t get a chance to ask before she left to follow the body to the CID.”

  “What exactly did the man say to you before he expired?”

  Micah thought back to the incident. “Just four words. ‘Chiral,’ ‘prisoner,’ and ‘stop them’.”

  Gabe’s voice was thoughtful. “Was he saying someone was involved in a chiral study and holding someone prisoner? A scientist, maybe, like the situation with Sam?”

  “And is it really safe to assume that, by ‘stop them,’ he means the Akkadians?” Katie interjected. “What about drug cartels, or even other star nations?”

  Asha stirred. “Last we knew, Akkadia was in a similar position as we are, working with viral organisms and chemical compounds. Should we consider they may have cut corners and upped their game? Could he have been chiral?” Then she shook her head. “But he wasn’t a prisoner.”

  Jonathan sat up suddenly, and Micah felt his twin’s gaze land on him. “Or maybe he was, and he escaped. Maybe the Akkadians did to him what Stinton did to us, and cloned him.”

  “Omigod!” Katie exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes were wide as they swung from Jonathan to Micah and then back again.

  “Katie?” Gabe prompted.

  That was enough to jolt the chief warrant out of her headspace.

  “Remember what the doc told us about the viral weapon they’d created on that secret base? They managed to entangle them. They used the chiral version as the trigger, and when they altered it, the non-chiral version became altered, too, in the exact same way. What if�
��.”

  She swallowed hard, and a sick look came over her face. “What if they’ve managed to achieve the same thing with living creatures?”

  A shadow of impatience crossed Valenti’s face. “We already know that’s possible.” She gestured to Micah and Jonathan. “That’s nothing new to us.”

  “Yes, but they’re different.” Hyer waved her hand between the two men. “When Jonathan was injured on Leavitt Station, Micah wasn’t.”

  Micah rubbed his chest, recalling the moment Jonathan had been stabbed. “I might not have been injured, but I sure as hell felt it,” he reminded them.

  Gabe sat up straighter. “So, let’s consider this for a moment. We know the machine Stinton used on Case was destroyed when deGrasse blew up. Not only that, Stinton himself had no idea he’d successfully accomplished what he’d set out to do—chirally clone a person.”

  He shook his head, stopping himself. “No, wait. It was more than that. Even if he found out, he would’ve had no idea how his chiral clones finally became viable, because it was Sam’s intervention that did it. Nothing of her actions would have been included in the research the Akkadians stole from Stinton, correct?”

  “True,” Katie admitted. “But then eighteen months ago, Sam told them that chiral pairs could be entangled.”

  “She didn’t know she was telling them,” Micah began, and Thad waved him off.

  “We know that, hoss. She thought she was telling an Alliance colonel that. One who’d been read into the program, remember?”

  “What are you suggesting, Chief?” Valenti asked, her gaze on Hyer.

  Katie licked her lips nervously. “Well, they have all of Stinton’s early research—or at least, we’re going on the assumption they do, because Janus stole it and sent it to Akkadia, right?”

  There were nods all around.

  Clint Janus had been Stinton’s right-hand man. They also suspected the biochemist was behind the destruction of the deGrasse research torus, but there was no proof, so he’d walked free. After Akkadia’s recent attempt to decimate the intelligence community, Janus had mysteriously disappeared.