by Rachel Ford
This settled, he resumed the original thread of his thoughts. “As I was saying, for the time being, Kri is a person of interest as he had both motive and opportunity. I will pursue that line of inquiry. Once we know more, we may promote him to a suspect, or remove him from the running.”
“Do you have anyone else?” F’riya asked.
“Your cousin F’vir’s animosity toward your family is certainly worth notice. He has a very real motive there. That said, I have found nothing to indicate that he had the opportunity to act on his motive. For now, until I can rule out opportunity, I am keeping him in mind as person of interest. But I do not expect to find anything worse than a miserable, jealous person in that quarter.”
“I’d believe it was F’vir before Kri,” F’rok admitted.
Zaldar smiled softly at the comment. It was a subtle, enigmatic expression, and I couldn’t quite tell if he was actually amused, or if he felt some point had been proved. But when he spoke, he changed the topic. “Then, of course, there’s those with all the opportunity but no known motives yet: the staff at the restaurant where F’er and Kia ate. At the moment, they’re all persons of interest because they all might have done it. I’ll be following up on everyone who worked that night to see if they had any connection to any of the possible targets.”
“That seems like the most logical place to start,” F’rok decided.
The investigator’s smile returned. “Does it?”
“Well…yeah.”
“How so? Because they’re not people you know?”
F’rok blinked. “No. I mean, it’s just, it doesn’t make sense for anyone else to want them dead. It had to be someone there, at the restaurant. Like you say, they had the opportunity. We just need to find the motive.”
“If there is one, I will find it. I will also check the Nikya family’s domestic staff. It’s entirely possible the poison was introduced before Kia and Kor ever left home. And aside from the father, there would have been a handful of live-in and day staff with access to poison them.”
F’riya sighed. “That’s a huge list of people. Finding a motive – the real motive – is going to be like finding a needle in a haystack.”
Zaldar shrugged. “Difficult is the investigator’s job. And it’s usually not as hard to do as the criminal hopes.”
This was welcome news, and when Investigator Zaldar left, he left us with high hopes for his success. We began to make plans for what we’d do “once the truth is out.”
We’d get Frank, of course. That’d be the first thing.
“We’ll need to celebrate,” F’riya decided. “We’ll throw a party.”
“Yes. And invite everyone who was decent to us. And not one of the sons-of-bitches who turned their backs on F’er and all of us.”
Our partying mood, though, was curtailed the next day when the Black Flag arrived in Kudarian airspace. I received a call at about the same time Maggie did. Mine came from Syd, and hers Kereli.
“Katherine?”
“Hey Syd. How’s it going?”
“Not well, I’m afraid. We have been denied access to the Kudarian ports.”
“What?”
“Apparently you and Magdalene have been deemed a flight risk, and allowing your ship onto the planet increases that risk.”
“But you have Rita’s diplomatic coverage. They’ve got no right to deny you permission to land.”
“Apparently they do. Air control cited a Kudarian regulation that does, I’m afraid, check out. It is rather obscure and very archaic. But I’ve cross-checked my data vaults, and I believe they are accurately representing their authority to turn us away. However, I must note that I am not equipped with the Via Robotics Legal Advisory license. Via Robotics makes no guarantees for the accuracy of any legal advice dispensed by a unit without proper licensing.”
I ignored the disclaimer. “Did they offer any recourse? Is there any follow up that you’re aware of?”
“No, Kay. My understanding is that, until your two months is up, we have no choice but to abide by their decision.”
“Dammit.”
“However, we intend to maintain a position in orbit, so that once their mistake is discovered, we can land.”
Maggie’s call with Kereli went much the same. The Black Flag was prohibited from landing, and she saw no avenue of appeal until the case was resolved.
Once that business was addressed, though, more members of the crew jumped on the call. They switched to video, too, and I saw most of the crew had assembled. Kereli was there, of course, but so were Corano and Max, and Fredricks and Ginny. Syd trundled into the frame a few moments later, then Dave’s head poked in, scowling as he tried to elbow in closer.
“Damn it’s good to see you all,” I said, joining Maggie.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” Fredricks declared. “What the hell happened to you?”
He was, I realized, seeing my bruises for the first time. I flushed. The fact was, they looked a hell of a lot better now than they had a few days ago. The purples were duller, the swelling gone. I’d almost forgotten about them. “I had a difference of opinion with an overenthusiastic guard, and his baton.”
Fredricks whistled, and Ginny said, “Oh Kay, are you alright?
He added, “Have you got yourself checked out? A beating like that can cause a lot of damage.”
“I’m fine. Honestly. It hurt like hell, but that was it.”
“The Kudarians are not a gentle people,” Corano offered, in what was, I think, his best attempt at an expression of empathy.
“This is deeply concerning, Katherine,” Sydney decided. “Such an assault is clearly prohibited by Union law.”
It didn’t escape my notice that the battle bot on our crew offered a less robotic reply than the flesh-and-blood Esselian. “It’s okay, Syd. Really, it is.”
“I will file a protest with Union diplomatic circles. This cannot be allowed to stand.”
“No,” I said quickly. “Don’t do that, Sydney. Not while we’re still stuck here.”
“Why?”
“Because that will just piss them off even worse.”
“You fear retaliation, then?”
“Of course she does, you ridiculous bucket of bolts,” Dave snapped. “They already beat her black-and-blue. You think they’re they introspective sort?”
It was not exactly how I would have phrased it, but while the delivery could have used some work, the message was on point. Sydney seemed to understand, too. “Your perspective is not without merit, David. It is a grave injustice, but I am coming to see that suffering injustice is often the price of existence in organic circles.”
“Well, that’s a little grim, Syd,” Maggie put in. “We can talk about a complaint later. But right now, Kay and I, and Frank too, are all at their mercy.”
“I understand, Captain.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Ginny wondered. “The sooner we get you out of there, the better.”
Maggie shook her head. “I wish there was. Right now, we’ve got an investigator working on the case. But until he turns something up, Frank’s the primary suspect.”
“He’s the only suspect,” I put in. “They’re not even looking at anyone else.”
“Which means, we better hope our investigator finds a solid lead.”
“Do you have the autopsy report, Captain?” Fredricks wondered.
“Yes.”
“Can you send it to me? I’d like to take a look.”
“Sure. But why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve been reading all the news we can get our hands on. And something just doesn’t feel right about this case. It can’t hurt to have another set of eyes on it.”
“I would be interested in any other documents you have on the case,” Sydney put in. “I am not equipped with the Via Robotics Investigative license. Via Robotics-”
“Makes no guarantees. Yes, yes,” Maggie interrupted. “We know.”
“That said,” Syd continued, �
�It is within my purview to utilize my analytic algorithms. I would very much like to put them to use on this case, if you would allow my services, Magdalene.”
She shook her head, laughing. “Allow? Dammit, Syd, we’d be grateful. We’d be grateful for anything that might get us the hell off this rock.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
“Well,” Maggie sighed, “I think we’re doing just about everything we can. We’ve got the crew on it. We’ve got Zaldar on it. Now all we can do is wait.” It had been two days since the Black Flag arrived at Kudar, and we’d had no news from anyone.
I nodded. “Which sucks. I’d much rather be doing something than sitting around waiting.”
She smiled and leaned over to kiss me. “Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”
“I say we take a picnic lunch out today,” F’riya suggested. “It’s supposed to be a beautiful day, and it’ll get us all out of the house.”
F’rok nodded. “And if we head back to the orchard, it’ll be well out of range of the reporters.”
I nodded slowly. It wasn’t the most exciting thing I could imagine. Then again, with a crowd of reporters at the door and a hostile population all around us, our options were fairly limited. “It’ll be good to get some fresh air.”
Ger rested his hand on F’riya’s stomach and smiled at her. “And you’ve been cooped up too long.”
F’rok rolled his eyes affectionately as they exchanged lovesick simpers, and I smiled to myself. I was glad that, despite everything that had happened these last weeks – the revelation of their marriage and pregnancy, the accusations against Frank, the attack on Ger’s parents, the consolidation of the two families in one home – it hadn’t taken a toll on their relationship. I’d seen couples fall apart over much smaller issues than what these two faced.
“Then it’s agreed,” the younger brother decided.
“Let’s see if we can get our parents to come with us,” F’riya nodded. “All of them.”
“You think they’ll be able to tolerate each other that long?” Ger smiled.
She laughed. “Give them a little credit, darling. We’re all living under the same roof, and there hasn’t been a single murder yet.”
He laughed too. “That’s true. Alright, I suppose they’ll survive an afternoon together.”
“Great. I’ll talk to the kitchens,” F’riya said.
Ger leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. “Let me. You talk to our parents.”
“You coward,” she laughed.
He nodded, grinning all the while. “Oh, you better believe it.”
“I’ll do that,” F’rok said. “You two should talk to them together. They’ll have a harder time getting out of it if they’re asked by someone else’s kid.”
Ger groaned and F’riya nodded. “A good idea.”
“A terrible idea,” he countered. “And I thought we were friends, F’rok. I won’t forget this betrayal.”
The two Inkayas laughed, and Maggie wondered, “What should we do?”
F’rok shrugged. “Be ready to leave in an hour or so.”
I glanced at her. “I think we can manage that.”
“I don’t know,” she shook her head, her eyes twinkling. “With all the pressing engagements filling my calendar…”
We split up now to see to our division of tasks. The Inkayas went their own ways, and since Mags and I had nothing else to do, we decided we’d change into something a little better suited to picnicking. F’reya had lent us clothes from her own wardrobe, and I was hesitant to wear one of her fine tunics outside, lest I stained it. It didn’t matter what planet you were on: grass stains were an intergalactic constant, an evil that knew no borders of space or time.
We were heading upstairs when a noise sounded. It was sharp and jarring, and at first I couldn’t place it. Maggie did, though. She threw a quick glance from window to window, and said, “That was breaking glass. Coming from one of the breakfast rooms, it sounded like.”
I frowned. It was late morning. The breakfast room would already have been cleared. “Maybe one of the servants…”
My musing was interrupted by the sound repeating. This time, it was unmistakable. I felt my heart leap into my throat, and I knew instinctively this was no shattered drinking glass or dropped dinner plate. Something bad was happening. “What the hell?”
Maggie touched my arm. “Babe, get into one of the central rooms, away from windows. I’m going to check it out.”
“Like hell. I’m going with you.”
She seemed about to protest when a shout rang down the hall. “Fire. Fire!”
We both took off at a run now, heading in the direction of that voice, heading for the sounds of shattered glass.
As we neared the yellow breakfast room, we nearly collided with a wide-eyed servant whose footsteps were taking him in the opposite direction. “Fire,” he gasped.
Maggie nodded, pushing on. I paused long enough to ask, “How? What happened?” The acrid smell of smoke hit my nostrils.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Someone threw something through the window. And then…the room burst into flames.”
Shit. I took off after Maggie. She’d already reached the breakfast room, and I just caught sight of her disappearing inside. Smoke poured out, and a reddish glow lit the hallway beyond. “Mags,” I called. I got no response, though.
I reached the room a few moments later. Flames engulfed the table, and great licks of red flickered up toward the ceiling. I wondered vaguely how the fire might have caught so quickly, but then I remembered what the trembling man in the hall had said. Someone threw something through the window. The ‘something’ in question, I guessed, must have been a Molotov cocktail, or whatever the Kudarian version of that would be.
It fit the pattern of the wreckage I saw before me, as if some flammable liquid had been cast haphazardly into the center of the room. Little flaming patches here and there – probably, splashes of the accelerant – burned, and the surface of the dining table roared with flame.
I didn’t reserve much time for observation, though. Maggie had already thrown herself into fighting the fire. She’d found an extinguisher somewhere and was sweeping the flaming table with bursts from it. I glanced around for another but saw none. Get help. I didn’t want to leave Mags, but I needed a fire extinguisher.
I ran out of the room and got about five strides down the hall when F’rok appeared. “Fire,” I yelled. “There’s a fire in the yellow breakfast room. We need extinguishers.”
He didn’t waste time with hows or whys, instead darting into a closet. A moment later, he emerged with one. “There’s another in the green breakfast room, tucked behind the display case. I’ll take this. You get that one.”
I nodded, pumping my legs as hard as they’d go. I burst into the breakfast room, heading for the case. It was a display of various Inkaya family heirlooms, but at the moment, I didn’t see any of them. F’rok had said there was an extinguisher behind the case, so that’s where I turned my focus.
And, sure enough, a red canister hung from the back of the display, neatly concealed from view to the wider room.
This in tow, I set my steps back toward the fire. F’riya’s voice hit my ears. “Katherine? What’s going on?”
“There’s a fire,” I said. “In the yellow room. Someone broke a window, threw something through it.”
“Oh gods.”
“I’ll take that,” Ger said, gesturing to the extinguisher. “You get F’riya out of here, away from the smoke.”
I blinked. “Maggie’s in there.”
“I’m not leaving you,” F’riya protested.
“You’re pregnant, darling. You can’t be by smoke.”
“I’m not leaving Mags,” I said. “You two get your parents. Make sure they’re safe, in case we can’t put this thing out. And call for help. Whoever started the fire might still be out there.”
Ger was ready to argue, but I didn’t give him the chance. I took off before I finis
hed my last sentence, shouting over my shoulder as I went.
F’rok and Maggie were still fighting the fire when I returned, but the stray flames at least had been extinguished, the little patches of fire here and there stomped out. Now all that remained was the table.
And that was project enough. The entire surface was engulfed in a sheen of fire. Maggie and F’rok were tackling opposite ends, and every time one or the other of them managed to make some headway, columns of flame would spit up elsewhere, as if to make up the lost ground. I took a post between the two of them. We stood on the same side of the table, sweeping it with blasts of fire suppressant.
We were fairly close to the conflagration, and it was letting off a tremendous amount of smoke and heat. My eyes streamed tears, and my nose and throat burned with every breath. The air was heavy with acrid, choking smoke. Beads of perspiration ran down my face, although that was due in part, I think, to nerves as well as anything else. The fire reached high, almost to the ceiling, and I could not rid my mind of the thought that, if that caught light, the Inkaya estate, Frank’s family home, was gone.
Nor did the conflagration show any signs of subsiding. It would flicker and diminish just to spring back to life with as much energy as before. Whatever had been in that incendiary projectile burned hot and persistently.
I began to fear we weren’t going to win that particular battle when, almost without warning, we did. The table collapsed inward, its central surface burned through. We focused our firefighting on what remained, and by some miracle managed to stifle the last licks of flame before they caught on the rug.
Once it was all done, we stood for a moment, panting and trembling. Then Maggie went to the windows, throwing them open. F’rok and I found our senses and joined her. Fresh air streamed into the room. I stuck my head out, gasping in long breaths. My lungs still burned, my eyes still streamed; but at least I could breathe again.
“What the hell happened?” F’rok wondered. “Who would have done that?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But with the coverage this damned case has been getting, I’m not surprised it happened. I’m just glad it happened now, and not at night, when we were all asleep.”