Lawmen- Rook and Berenger

by Matthew Kadish

  “Surely that’s not necessary,” Stygaard replied. “I personally approved the allocation of one of our holographic terrain simulators for your use in this matter. It’s state-of-the-art and can recreate the location, down to the most minute detail, based on our survey team’s recordings.”

  “We appreciate your offer, Governor,” Berenger said, “but we’ll be passing on it.”

  Stygaard chuckled in disbelief, glancing at his two security personnel as though to ensure they also heard Berenger turning him down. “Passing on it?” he said. “Why wouldn’t you want to take advantage of every resource available to you in investigating the death of a child?”

  Berenger hooked his thumbs through his belt, showing off the blasters he had holstered at his side as his longcoat was pushed back by the gesture. Deckland noticed Krytaar taking note of the weapons.

  “In my experience, data can be changed, and recreations are never a substitute for the real thing,” Berenger said. “I’m sure your holo-terrain simulator is great for charting veins of ore and whatnot for your mining outfit, but for a homicide, well… some things a man just needs to see for himself.”

  The faces of the Governor and his men were stoic as they processed Berenger’s words. Finally, Stygaard nodded in acquiescence. “Very well, it’s your investigation. You may run it as you best see fit,” he said. “But I will keep the simulator available to you, just in case you change your mind.”

  “Much obliged.”

  “Dulph,” said Stygaard as he turned to Krytaar. “Assemble some of your men. Have them accompany Chief Moreland and the Rangers to the scene.”

  “Whoa, now,” said Berenger. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “It’s no trouble, I assure you,” replied Stygaard.

  “For you, maybe,” Berenger stated. “Not for us.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Stygaard said. “If you won’t use my simulator, at least use my manpower. The Pink Suns know the terrain. They’re qualified to assist in your investigation, and they can keep you safe.”

  “Keep us safe from what?” asked Berenger. “What’s dangerous enough out on the plains that would warrant our being escorted there by a squad of your security personnel?”

  “Aside from something that’s already killed a child?” asked Stygaard. “Nothing. The planet is barren.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, I’m sure the three of us will be fine on our own,” Berenger replied as he gestured to Deckland and Moreland. “We’re trained officers of the law. We can probably handle ourselves better than your private Pinkies can.”

  “You certain about that?” asked Krytaar, his face hard, as though he’d taken Berenger’s statement as a challenge.

  Berenger smirked at the man. “Mighty certain,” he said.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist,” stated Stygaard. “James, you can consider it an executive order from your colonial governor. The Pink Suns will accompany you and the Rangers to the crime scene.”

  It looked as though Berenger were about to argue with Stygaard before Deckland stepped forward. “Actually, Governor, I’m afraid you can’t issue such an order,” he said.

  Stygaard bristled at that. “Of course, I can,” he replied. “I’m in charge here.”

  “Then, you should know Imperial law and procedure takes precedence in this situation,” Deckland stated. “The Galactic Rangers use the Imperial Investigative Service’s standard operating procedure in the case of a homicide investigation, which precludes the involvement of non-Imperial law enforcement personnel unless requested by the investigators or officially approved consultants by the primary agency directing the investigation. Are Pink Sun personnel officially certified as consultants by the Galactic Ranger Initiative?”

  Stygaard frowned. “Not to my knowledge,” he admitted.

  “Then unless we request their assistance, it is not legal to involve them in our investigation,” Deckland said. “Now, as governor, you can indeed issue an executive order to force their involvement, but breaking procedure, I should warn you, could compromise our investigation, so that should we indeed find whoever it is that killed this little girl, he may not be fully prosecuted for his crime. I know you want to help, but in this instance, the best thing you can do is stay out of our way and let us do our job. Besides…”

  Deckland took a step toward Stygaard and continued speaking to him quietly.

  “How would it look if a child killer walked because of a technicality you created?” he asked.

  Stygaard gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw clenching as he mulled over Deckland’s words. “Very well,” he muttered. “But I must insist I be kept updated on your findings.”

  Deckland nodded. “Of course,” he said. “We’ll be sure to keep you in the loop.”

  Stygaard gave Deckland and Berenger a curt nod. “Pleasure meeting you, gentlemen,” he said. “Try to stay cool out there. The plains can be rather harsh in the light of day.”

  With that, the governor turned and began heading back to the elevator with his Pink Sun bodyguards in tow. Krytaar and Berenger exchanged disapproving glances before the head of Stygaard’s security detail disappeared behind the closing elevator door. Moreland sighed once they were gone.

  “I know Stygaard can come off a little strong, but he means well,” Moreland said. “He wants this investigation solved as much as anybody.”

  “He wants credit for catching a child killer to help his case for a Legacy,” Berenger said before spitting on the ground. “Now that we’re involved, he smells publicity. Man’s an opportunist if’n I’ve ever seen one.”

  “Aren’t all people who become Legacy heads opportunists?” asked Moreland as he climbed up into the Roamer. “Squick, if it weren’t for opportunists, none of us would be out here in the Frontier right now. Just ask the Twinspirits.”

  Deckland went to climb into the Roamer, passing by Berenger as he did so.

  “Mighty fine work handling the governor there, Rook,” Berenger said.

  Deckland smiled at the unexpected compliment. “See? Following procedure can come in handy sometimes,” he replied. “You should try it.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  “And don’t call me ‘Rook’,” Deckland said as he climbed into the Roamer. “Now let’s get you to your precious crime scene before it melts under this blasted sun.”

  Berenger joined the others in the Roamer as the door to the municipal vehicle bay rumbled open. Moreland drove the vehicle outside, immediately heading off across the dusty plains toward the place a child had been found dead.

  Chapter 8

  The Roamer rumbled to a halt as the trail of dust it had kicked up during its forty-minute journey from the colony lingered in the air, slowly curling in upon itself before drifting away. The doors on the sides of the vehicle rose open and the passengers hopped out. Deckland immediately raised his hand over his eyes to shield them from the glare of the sun, making a mental note to invest in a pair of sunglasses as soon as he got back to Barnholm.

  Moreland pulled out his datapad and looked at the positioning map on its screen. “It’s over here,” he said before leading the group a few yards away from the Roamer to the spot where their victim’s body had first been discovered.

  Deckland unzipped his uniform jacket and tugged at the collar of his undershirt. Hope we’re not out here long, he thought. This heat is killing me!

  Adding to Deckland’s misery was the fact that his partner seemed entirely unaffected by the climate. Berenger had his thumbs hooked under his belt and was slowly circling around the area like he was out for a casual stroll. His pointed frontiersman boots crunched on the dry desertscrub grass as he stalked the scene, his good eye intently studying the ground while his bionic one glowed red as it performed a scan of the area.

  “Rook, you got your datapad handy?” Berenger asked.

  Deckland pulled his datapad from his pocket. “Yeah,” he replied.

  “Call up the images of th
e body,” Berenger said. “Show me where it was.”

  Deckland tapped at his datapad’s screen, turning the device’s sensor on to get scans of the area while he loaded in the image data from the casefile. The program on his datapad then switched to an augmented reality view, showing the scene from the casefile layered on top of the datapad’s real-time camera footage. Deckland swept the datapad around until it showed him the body of their victim, and he approached the area where she had lain.

  “She was here,” he said.

  Berenger came to Deckland’s side and looked at the image his partner’s datapad was displaying. “May I?” he asked, not waiting for Deckland’s consent before he took the device. Then, Berenger knelt, glancing from the datapad’s screen to the actual ground before him.

  “The data the survey-bots collected was pretty extensive,” Deckland said. He’d taken their long journey as an opportunity to review as much of the casefile as he could. “They scanned up to a mile of the area in all directions. There were no tracks, no trails, nothing that would indicate where our victim came from.”

  Berenger nodded. He reached out and touched the dirt and grass where the datapad displayed the body and pierced the ground with the tips of his fingers. He broke the dirt up, studying some darkened clumps beneath.

  “What’s that?” asked Deckland.

  “Blood,” Berenger replied. “Soaked into the dirt. Enough of it to bind the soil together.”

  “Our victim had bled out of her mouth and nose,” Moreland said. “There was a small pool of it around her head when we found her, already dried. She probably threw it up as her stomach and lungs broke down.”

  Deckland knelt next to Berenger and took a closer look at the ground, as well. “Hard to see it under the grass,” he said as he moved the weed-like desertscrub away to see the dirt beneath better. “The breeze covered it with dirt pretty quickly. Shame we didn’t have a shield unit to preserve the scene.”

  “Wouldn’t have helped much anyway,” said Berenger. “The topsoil here on the plain is loose and dry. It drank up the blood the second it was spilled on it. That’s probably why there’s no blood trail even though the bottom of our vic’s feet were cut to ribbons.”

  “We could do a more detailed sensor sweep of the area, I suppose,” postulated Deckland. “Tune the scans to look for the blood specifically.”

  Berenger shook his head. “It wouldn’t turn up anything. The blood would have been trace to begin with, and between the dirt, the grass, and time that’s passed since our victim died, any sensor scan would come back inconclusive.”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” Deckland said. “We could get lucky.”

  Berenger looked at Deckland and tapped at his bionic eye. “I do know it for sure,” he said, “because I’ve already done that scan.”

  “No offense, but your implant may not be as advanced as a field-grade forensic scanner. It might pick up something you can’t.”

  “Well, you’re welcome to requisition one from Barnholm if’n you want,” said Berenger. “And in three weeks, after you finally get it and haul it back here, let me know if you turn up anything.”

  Deckland frowned. “You mean to tell me you don’t carry a forensic scanner on your ship?” he asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  “Then, why can’t we use that?”

  “Because,” said Berenger as he tapped at his bionic eye once more, “we already did.”

  Deckland shook his head in frustration as Berenger positioned himself at the foot of the space where the body would have been, glancing up in the direction it had been facing before looking behind him at the mountains in the distance.

  “How far away are we from them mountains, Chief?” he asked.

  “Ten miles, give or take,” replied Moreland.

  “And thirty miles from the colony,” Berenger muttered as he rose to his feet, tilting his hat back as he squinted up toward the sun. “What time does it get dark ‘round here?”

  “Six o’clock or so,” Moreland said. “Because the mountains are to the west, it starts to get dark early as the sun sets behind them. Gives us about four more hours until nightfall.”

  “Good to know,” Berenger said as he tossed Deckland back his datapad. “Thanks for all your help, Chief. You can get going now.”

  “Seriously?” asked Deckland as he rose back to his feet and dusted off his pantlegs. “We just spent 40 minutes driving out here, and after two seconds, you’re ready to leave again?”

  “Oh, I ain’t leavin’, Rook,” Berenger said. “But you and the Chief, y’all can head on back. I can tell you’re suffering in this heat.”

  Deckland gave Berenger a strange look. “Wait… what?”

  “I said go on back to the colony,” Berenger replied as he reached into his rucksack and pulled out a thin blanket.

  Deckland looked at Berenger in confusion as the man spread the blanket out on the ground not far from the site of the body’s discovery, as though he were preparing for a picnic. “And what are you going to be doing out here?” Deckland asked.

  Berenger planted his rucksack at the head of the blanket and then lay down, resting his head against the bag. “I’m gonna get some shut-eye,” he said.

  That response confused Deckland even further. “Are you kidding me?” he asked. “You’re going to stay here and sleep?”

  “Been a long day,” Berenger muttered as he wrapped his longcoat around himself like a blanket and lowered his widebrim hat over his eyes. “Someone done woke me up early, and now I’m mighty tired.”

  “This is insane,” objected Deckland. “You go to sleep out here, and you’ll cook to death!”

  “Your partner is right, Ranger Berenger,” Moreland chimed in. “There’s no reason for you to stay out here. If you want, we can retire to the Roamer…”

  “Y’all do what ya want,” Berenger said as he yawned. “Me? I’m fine as I am.”

  Deckland scowled at his partner before shaking his head in complete frustration. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded. “What possible reason is there to stay out here? Let alone sleep out here? If there’s nothing more we can learn from this location, what’s there left for us to do?”

  “I already told ya, Rook, I got me a reason for everything I do,” Berenger muttered. “Now get on out of here. The sooner you stop your squawking, the sooner I can get on to my much-needed slumber.”

  Deckland sighed angrily. “You want me gone? Fine,” he grumbled as he stormed off. “I’ll be back at the colony in a climate-controlled office trying to solve this case while you’re out here camping.”

  “Yippee kai yay, Rook,” responded Berenger, sleepily.

  “I hate it when he talks like that,” Deckland muttered under his breath. “Come on, Chief. Let’s get back to Skinny Plains.”

  Moreland dabbed the sweat from his face with his handkerchief. “Don’t need to ask me, twice,” he said.

  The two men walked toward the Roamer, Deckland still fired up over Berenger’s mind-boggling antics. But despite his frustration with his partner’s unconventional methods, he couldn’t help but feel as though Berenger knew something he didn’t. That, of course, made him even more frustrated.

  “Blast it,” Deckland muttered, stopping just as Moreland opened the door to the Roamer.

  Moreland looked at Deckland curiously. “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “I can’t go back with you,” Deckland said, reluctantly.

  “Why not?”

  “Because,” grumbled Deckland as he glanced over his shoulder at Berenger, “if my partner is staying out here, he must have a reason for doing so. What that reason may be is anyone’s guess, but despite all his flaws, he’s a good investigator, so he has to have a reason. Besides, I can’t just abandon him on an untamed alien world.”

  “Honestly, I don’t think your partner would mind,” stated Moreland. “I’ve seen his type before. Nothing much fazes old-schoolers like him.”

  “I
would mind,” Deckland replied. “You all may do things differently out here in the Frontier, but I have to believe abandoning your partner isn’t one of them.”

  “You sure you want to do this?” asked Moreland. “You could use the resources at the colony to continue the investigation while your partner does his own thing. It’s a might bit more comfortable back at the offices than it is out here.”

  “Unfortunately, I didn’t become a Ranger to be comfortable, Chief. I have the casefiles on my datapad. I can review them out here just as well as I can back in the settlement.”

  “If you say so,” Moreland said before taking off his hat and offering it to Deckland. “Here. Take this.”

  Deckland looked at the hat in confusion, the offering feeling weird and awkward to him. “You’re… giving me your hat?”

  “If you’re staying out on the plains, you’re going to need it. Trust me, core worlder… unless you want sunburns on your face, head, and neck, you’ll want to be in possession of a good hat.”

  Deckland sighed but accepted the Peacekeeper’s offering, nonetheless. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll be sure to get it back to you when we’re done here.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I got more at the office I’ve been saving for when my officers finally arrive,” Moreland said as he started to leave, before hesitating and turning back to Deckland. “Oh, and one more thing… I couldn’t help but notice you seemed a tad irritated with your nickname.”

  “If the man who’s supposed to be your partner went around undermining you by calling you a ‘rookie’ constantly, would you not be irritated, too?”

  “Lemme ask you… is this your first assignment?”

  Deckland shook his head as if he knew what Moreland was going to say. “Yeah, yeah, this is my first assignment so technically I’m a ‘rookie’, I get it.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” said Moreland. “Out here in the Frontier, everyone is given a hard time on his first assignment. Especially by the guy he’s partnered up with. It’s like a ‘rite of passage’ type thing. When I first started, I was given a nickname I hated. Bet your partner was, too.”