Curse of the Full Mental Packet

by Jack Q McNeil

  “Sorry, cheap nebbish hand knock off,” he said.

  “Bought that from LB, didn’t you,” I remembered.

  “I gave him mate's rates,” LB said, lurching forward and peering at the voice box. “Probably needs a recharge.”

  “I... re....” Big Walt said. LB turned to his son.

  “See if you can get this working,” he said. “Remember that job lot of voice boxes I got from Torko the Nemquist? Good quality end of line stuff.”

  “End of line stuff eighty years ago,” Isamary muttered. He took different batteries from his pouch until he got one to fit. The lights on the voice box came on brighter.

  “Hello, hello, hello?” Big Walt said. The voice was light, cheery and male. “End of year tax returns, what fun. Voice box seems to work fine.”

  “Can you understand me?” I asked, rearing up and getting close to his face.

  “No one understands you,” he said. “But I understand your words.”

  “Don’t get cheeky,” I said. “Now answer the marshal’s questions, or the Queen of Shaws will need a new accountant.”

  “Is your name really Big Walter?”

  “No, my name is actually- Big Walter- which, in the nebbish of my people means- Big Walter- but all that comes out of this nebbish voice box is–Big Walter.”

  “Ah... right... and you are a caterpillar form?”

  “Yes. My species are Big Walter. I mean- Big Walter.”

  “Right... so aren’t you a bit young to be working?”

  “I’m fifty-eight tmesis old. My Big Walter’s first invention was a mix of seeds and leaves that hold back the change to a butterfly. Our adult form has no mouth and only lives long enough to breed and lay eggs.”

  “That must have stopped your civilization developing?”

  “You’re not tmesis- damn this voice box.”

  “You are the Queen of Shaws accountant?” Marshal Harry spluttered.

  “Yes?” Big Walt said. “Why is that so hard to nebbish?”

  Harry waved her arms around at the damp, dark room.

  “Surely an accountant can afford somewhere better to live,” she said. Which showed she still had a lot to learn about insects.

  “Are you kidding?” Big Walt said. “This place is dark, cool, has Big Walter running down the walls, and Loow used to bring me silage every morning for breakfast. He was a nebbish to himself, that man.”

  “So you are aware he is dead?” the marshal pounced.

  “Ah...yes? Is that bad?”

  “It is for Loow,” I said.

  “Someone said the marshals are here investigating the nebbish of Loow, and we should get out before they stitched us up. No one stayed to help me nebbish out the window, though.”

  Big Walter waved his pudgy little limbs. He had thumbs at the end of each leg, just enough to pick up a pen or tap a keypad.

  “Who informed you that Loow is dead?” Marshal Harry asked.

  “One of the bipeds who were nebbishing here,” Big Walter said. “I am not good at tmesis bipeds apart, although I have been reading Chunglie’s Humanwiki.”

  “There’s a Humanwiki?” LB said. “What’s the URL?”

  “Chunglie’s what?” Harry turned to me and raised both eyebrows. I realized I could be in trouble.

  “Well done, you drongo,” I hissed at Big Walter. “Look, we invertebrate species find it hard to understand mammals and especially humans. The few of us with experience of you wrote up what we know in a wiki. It’s been very useful...everyone said.”

  “Everyone like who?”

  “Mainly invertebrates,” I admitted. “But we are getting some Tooyr coming on, since more humans turned up in this star system. The Tooyr find it hard to stomach your baldness.”

  “My what?” Harry put a hand on her head. “I’m not bald, I have a fine head of hair.”

  “They don’t mean the hair on your head, Marshal,” LB said, stroking the orange and black fur on his chest. That humans have hairless bodies and are sickly and thin looking... it upsets people. We are used to fur, or spines on mammals.”

  “Right... we have completely gotten off the point here, so I want to make two things absolutely clear,” the marshal declared with authority. “I am not bald, and I am not sickly. Now, can we get back to investigating the murders?”

  “Nebbish?” Big Walter said. He leaned in and peered at the marshal’s head. “I thought that was a hat.”

  Marshal Harry held up a hand. “No. We are sticking to the subject. How well did you know the deceased?”

  “He knew me, better than I knew him,” Big Walter admitted, sadly. “I could not tell you what he nebbished to eat or where he nebbished, but Loow knew those things about me.”

  Marshal Harry looked around. “He didn’t live in the bar?”

  “No,” I said. “He has an apartment on Nonesuch Street. Number 2200 Cross Pennant B.”

  “No,” LB corrected. “That’s his old place. He moved to Cross Abernathy D.”

  “Are you familiar with that address, Chunglie?” the marshal asked me.

  “Yes, it’s two floors below and three along from his old place. I wonder why he moved. That was a nice apartment he had.”

  “He said the new place was cheaper,” LB said.

  “Just like the furniture you sold him,” Isamary muttered. Sometimes, I am glad I don’t have offspring.

  “Any idea why he needed to cut costs?” Marshal Harry asked.

  “That was good, solid, pre-owned furniture. But, Marshal, don’t humans have a saying about not speaking ill of the dead?” LB asked.

  “Doesn’t apply to murder victims,” Marshal Harry said. “The ill thing is often what got them killed.”

  “Oh. Well, in that case, Loow was a gambler. Lately his luck was all bad. I heard he borrowed heavily from Sloong Windied.”

  I groaned. “Hang on, no. Sloong Windied only breaks limbs, he doesn’t disintegrate people.”

  “Maybe that mushroom thing was to pay off his debts? But this Mr Windied is still someone I need to talk to,” Harry decided. “Anyone else Mr Alsh owed money too?”

  “A few,” LB said. “I could write out a list?”

  “Okay, do that. Big Walter, were you Mr Alsh’s accountant?”

  “Yes?”

  “How was the bar doing, financially?”

  “Receipts are down five percent since Chunglie became your deputy.”

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  “No, the bar business was healthy,” Big Walter said slowly. “Although his personal accounts were in the red.”

  “What? How?”

  “I don’t know,” Big Walter said. “I only took care of his business accounts, he did not tell me what he spent the money on.”

  “But he was always bragging on the cash he had in the bank!” I said. “What changed?”

  “Do you have somewhere else to stay?” Marshal Harry asked.

  “Me? No. Can’t I stay here?”

  “No, this is a crime scene. The building will be sealed until the investigation is completed.”

  “He can stay in my room,” I said. “There’s another bunk he can curl up under.”

  “Erm, promise not to eat me in your sleep?”

  “Promise,” I said. “You are a mate and I was wrong to bite you.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “Hold on,” Marshal Harry said. “As the marshal in residence, it is up to me who stays in our dorm rooms.”

  “But he,” I pointed a claw at my large green friend. “Is delicious. If you force him to wander around Port City looking for a place to stay, he will be eaten.”

  “You are kidding me,” Marshal Harry said. “He is sentient, despite being an accountant.”

  “Doesn’t stop some people,” I said.

  “Okay, Big Walter, you come with us and stay in the dorm room,” Marshal Harry said. “Do not enter the office area or touch anything.”

  “I promise I won’t,” Big Walter said, holding up a s
tubby arm.

  “Right, let’s head upstairs,” Marshal Harry decided. “I want to check out back and then seal this place. We’ve got a lot of work to do, the two of us.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “There are only the two of you?” LB asked, as he followed us out of the toilets. I swung round on him.

  “Why do you want to know?” I demanded. “Because if you’ve got any ideas about making a move on Marshal Ha—”

  “No. No! Me? I’m a trader, not a gangster. I was thinking... maybe I could help? I used to be a military police officer when I was younger.”

  “No,” I said. Not that I felt my position as sidekick threatened. Not by a big orange striped ape.

  “Can I be of assistance?” Daisy said, sticking her head through the door. “I heard what the marshal said- I will help you find Big Sam’s killer.”

  “How exactly does a second hand warbot help a detective?” I demanded, a little louder than I meant to.

  “Don’t be grumpy,” Marshal Harry said. “You are still my number one sidekick, but I think we need some help on this one.”

  “You do? What can they do?”

  “Well, Long Barnacle can introduce me to Loow Alsh’s friends and debtors, while you and Daisy track down whoever was sleeping in the cellar last night.”

  Hunting dangerous people with an ex-warbot in a dress, did sound fun. There was just one very large objection.

  “But I can’t protect you if I’m not with you.”

  “I’ll protect the marshal,” LB said, standing a little straighter and sticking out his chest. “I was in the military—”

  “During the last ice age. So who will protect you?”

  “I will,” Isamary said, stepping up to stand shoulder to shoulder with his father. There was suddenly a lot of inflated chests in the room.

  “Glad that’s settled,” Marshal Harry said. “Lead the way, Daisy, I want a look round out back.”

  The sun was dazzling, after the darkness of the cellar. I stopped to let my eyes adjust, and my antennae scented something in the wind. Something was off. I turned the gain up on all my sensors. There was a small area of hard packed dirt, a shed and to one side of the bar, an alley that led to the street. Behind the shed was a ten metre high fence that protected the space port. No one in their right mind would scale that, Port Authority was the most heavily armed artificial intelligence in the whole system.

  “This is our shed, where we recharge,” Daisy said, waving a hand at the staff quarters. It was a lean-to, open at the front with the charging units hanging on the back wall. The rest of the waiting staff had remained plugged in. They differed from Daisy and Sam. They looked like machines with bits of clothing stapled on, while Daisy was a person in herself. The pink gingham dress and golden ponytails were a part of her. I’d never looked at her that way before, and decided never to do it again.

  “Inside the big shed is the chemlab that produces drink, and a growing area for the snacks.”

  “Do I want to see the snacks?” Marshal Harry asked.

  “Probably not,” I admitted.

  “This is Macintosh and Toothbrush,” Daisy introduced. The two warbots were newer models. Like, from the last century.

  “Did either of you detect anyone or anything leaving the bar after closing time?”

  “No,” they said in unison. That kind of thing is easy for bots, because they communicate by wifi with each other.

  “I will want our techbots to download and examine a copy of your sensor logs.”

  “That will require our owner’s permission.”

  “Dead,” I pointed out.

  “Or a court order.”

  “The scene of crime unit will get one,” Marshal Harry said. “Do not enter the bar or leave your recharging points, until then. Okay?”

  “Orders accepted.”

  “Chunglie, seal the building,” Marshal Harry said, as she stuck her head in the warehouse door. “Oh, god, the floor is alive!”

  “That’s the snacks,” I said. “Look, I know it is standard procedure to seal the crime scene until the scene of crime bots have analysed the place, but is that a good idea in this case?”

  Harry’s face had a tinge of yellow as she turned to me. “I am never eating or drinking anything inside that bar.”

  “They’re not human snacks,” I said. “But really- sealing this bar is a bad idea.”

  “Why? We can’t allow people to contaminate a crime scene, you know that.”

  “But this is the biggest den of iniquity in this star system,” I pointed out. “And if we close it, the iniquity will wander around and cause trouble.”

  Marshal Harry stroked her chin and shrugged: “We’re the law. They cause, we’ll deal with it.”

  “Some of the people who drink in the lounge,” I pointed out reluctantly. “I cannot handle. Which means you can’t handle them, either.”

  “Point taken,” Harry nodded. “I will report the situation to the Marshal Service and ask for backup.”

  “Extra bodies won’t help,” LB said. “If you cross paths with the Duke... don’t threaten him with a weapon and let his sidekick do the talking. If you want to survive.”

  “There really is a Duke of the Dead Worlds?” Harry asked.

  “There is,” I said. “He is the Last Son of the Spice Worlds, and he is lethal when crossed.”

  “I don’t carry a gun,” Marshal Harry said. “So I’ll be fine.”

  Sometimes her optimism annoys me.

  “Let’s get on with this investigation. Chunglie, seal the building.”

  I took the sealer from a pouch on my cybernetic harness and tossed it at the door. Yellow tape unravelled and the spool flew away, laying tape behind it as it went. It looked easy to break, but it delivers a lethal shock if people disregard the warnings.

  I caught enough of that strange scent to triangulate angle and distance, pulled a flegmatic pistol and fired. A body dropped from the roof. It wore a camouflage suit that made it invisible to sensors, but not to my antennae.

  “We did not sense a threat,” Daisy waved a hand at the other warbots. I waggled my antennae.

  “My sense of smell is directional.”

  “Well that’s embarrassing,” Daisy said. “Warbot sensors out performed by a bug. No offence.”

  “None taken.” I straddled the body and stripped two hand guns and one knife from it. I was going through the pockets and zippers when I found the power pack for the suit and ripped it out.

  “Now we sense it.”

  “Take the helmet off,” the marshal said. Her lips were tight and her cheeks red. A storm was brewing. “Let’s see who has been dumb enough to spy on marshals going about their legal business.”

  “Ow, you didn’t have to shoot me,” the figure said.

  “You were hiding on the roof, wearing a powered ghillie suit. Were you planning to shoot the marshal?”

  “No,” the figure removed the helmet. Three yellow feathers on her crown marked her as a female of high status. The rest of her plumage was black and white and the teeth were small and sharp.

  “Meet Capolamp31, a Flucidillian, Marshal,” LB beat me to the introductions. “Her siblings Capolamp29, 28, and 26, rented pallets in the basement and shared them with 32, 33 and 37. But she was not with them.”

  “Why the gaps in the number series?” the marshal asked.

  “Tough planet we come from,” Capolamp31 said. “We didn’t all make it out of the nest.”

  “Big family?” Marshal Harry guessed.

  “You have no idea,” Capolamp31 said, grinning up at us. “Our mum was a champion egg layer.”

  “She will be so proud to hear we have arrested you for interfering in a marshal’s enquiry.”

  “What? No, not interfering. Just listening.”

  “Why were you listening?”

  “My siblings told me Loow was dead. Lot of people want to know the who and why of that. Could be coin in it.”

  “You were planning to sell
information about an ongoing investigation?”

  “Well... you could put it like that.”

  “Then I am still arresting you for interfering in an ongoing enquiry.”

  “Not interfering,” Capolamp31 said. ”Never you would have known I was there if not for the bug.”

  “You sprayed WD40 in the lining before you put the suit on,” I said. “It’s your own fault I smelled you.”

  “Where did your siblings go after they left my crime scene?”

  “Came to my hotel, said they need new place to sleep,” Capolamp31 said. “Our ship in dock for repairs, no place to sleep there.”

  “Well, you will be sleeping in a cell tonight, so some of them can share your bed.”

  “No. That is not right.”

  “Spying on me is not right,” Harry shouted. “Tramping over the roof of my crime scene is not right.”

  “He broke my suit.” She pointed a long thin finger at me. “It are rental, repairs cost extra.”

  “Oh, that’s only the start of your problems,” Marshal Harry said. I had not seen her this angry since I ate her leather handbag. “I hate spies.”

  “Not a spy, I are concerned for my siblings. Wanted to know if they were in trouble?”

  “They were not in trouble,” Marshal Harry said. “Until they broke out of the building and vacated a crime scene.”

  “Oh.”

  “You will see them soon.”

  “That nice.”

  “When Chunglie and Temporary Deputy Daisy round them up and lock them in the cell next to yours.”

  “That not so nice,” Capolamp31 said, standing and stretching her neck to full height. “You should be nice to me. We big family, heavily armed.”

  I swept her ankles with my largest claws and dropped her face first into the dirt. “You won’t have any family left, if they point one weapon at the marshal.”

  I may have been a tad rough, but in my opinion, Marshal Harry is a hard-working and under-appreciated detective.

  “Lock her up and find the other upright citizens who ran away this morning,” Marshal Harry ordered. LB stepped up, holding the list of names.

  “About that, Marshal,” he said, looking wretched, an interesting look on a one ton carnivorous ape. “I can take you to one of these people. He is a farmer. A Moordanaap farmer and old family friend.”