The Ethics of Silence

by C. J. Nash

  Janet set her notepad aside and placed her hand on Mason’s forehead. “What do you remember?”

  “After I spoke with the governor’s wife, I had a drink and then I woke up here. I don’t remember anything in between.” He glanced under the sheet. “And I’m not wearing any clothes. Why am I not wearing any clothes?”

  Janet lifted her hand. “One thing at a time. What were you drinking?”

  “I don’t know. It tasted good, but I would have sworn that there was little or no alcohol in it. Did they slip me something?”

  “Was it in a little red cup—an unusually heavy cup? And did it have a sort of a fog coming out of the cup?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “What you drank was a frozen dust storm. One Ninety proof. Ninety-five percent pure alcohol.”

  “But I didn’t taste any alcohol. It didn’t burn at all when I drank it.”

  “You drank it!” Janet shook her head. “You’re not supposed to drink a dust storm. You sip it—slowly. That one cup should have lasted you all evening. Did you drink just one or did you get a refill?”

  “I had three that I know of. After that, I don’t remember anything. I might have had more.”

  “Shit! They weren’t trying to get you drunk; someone was trying to kill you.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The reason a frozen dust storm doesn’t taste of alcohol and it doesn’t burn when you drink it is because it is chilled to minus forty before it is served. The alcohol is kept at room temperature and, just before it is served, we drop in just enough frozen CO2 to chill it to the perfect sipping temperature. The red cups are heavily insulated to keep the dust storm cold and to prevent you from getting frostbite on your fingers. The alcohol acts as antifreeze; otherwise, the saliva in your mouth would freeze. If you drink a dust storm instead of sipping it, the cold alone could be enough to put your system into shock.”

  “Why was he trying to kill me?”

  “Remember lesson two? Apparently, that person was taking lesson number two to the extreme. Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

  “I don’t know. It’s all a little fuzzy. I know he had a beard. And I got his name.”

  “And the name was?”

  “He said his name was Moe. Moe Howard.”

  Janet was entering the name into her notepad. Mason attempted to sit and discovered that his hair was stuck to the pillow. He carefully pulled the two apart and when he had finished, his hand was red with blood. “What happened to my head? Did I get into a fight?”

  Janet actually laughed. “You’re lucky you don’t have a concussion. And, no, you didn’t get into a fight. Let me get that cleaned up and put a bandage on it. Then I’ll give you the entire story—if you really want it. Oddly, the name you gave me just isn’t familiar—and I know all the colonists.”

  Janet went into the bathroom and returned with a wet cloth and the first aid kit. “I’ve got my notebook searching through the colonial database for Moe Howard.”

  Mason winced as Janet carefully washed the crimson from his hair. “I’m not wearing any clothes. Why don’t I have any clothes on?”

  “They were soiled. And keep still. Fortunately, this isn’t deep. Scalp wounds usually look a lot worse than they really are.”

  “Soiled? How were they soiled?”

  “Let me start from when I saw you standing on a table singing at the top of your lungs.”

  “Singing? I don’t sing.”

  “Correction: You don’t sing well, but you do sing. At least you do when you’re drunk.”

  “I was actually standing on a table, singing?”

  “Yes. Very loud, very bad and a song that was never meant for mixed company. The governor was really pissed at me.”

  “Why you? I was the one singing.”

  “I’m supposed to be responsible for you. I’m supposed to keep you out of trouble. The governor helped me get you off the table and we physically carried you out to the transport and tied you onto the cargo area.

  “Then we had a problem. The governor couldn’t leave the party and I couldn’t drive you home in my beautiful new red dress. So, I had to leave you tied there while I went to borrow a jumpsuit from Beth.”

  “The governor’s wife?”

  “Yes,” confirmed Janet, “the governor’s wife. When I got back outside you were singing again, and you wouldn’t shut up. I was peddling a transport with a lunatic on the back singing as loudly as you possibly could when I realized what you were singing about. I’m just glad it was dark or everyone would have seen me turn fifty shades of red.”

  “What was I singing about?”

  “You were singing praises to my various body parts—most of which I am assuming you have never seen.”

  “I am really sorry and really embarrassed.” Mason was interrupted by a chime.

  Janet picked up her notepad. “It says that Moe Howard is a stooge.”

  “Stooge? Another group of loonies like the Morlocks?”

  “No. Comedian from ancient times. There were three of them, Curly, Larry and Moe. Apparently, he gave you a false name. His beard was probably a fake too. Dead end for now.”

  “Okay. I was singing a very embarrassing song. What did you do?”

  “The only thing I could do, I drove you home. I untied you and you just sort of spilled off of the transport. I got you to your feet and managed to get you up to your apartment. Up to, but not inside. You insisted that, since we had just gotten married, you would have to carry me across the threshold into the bridal suite.”

  “We got married?”

  “No, we did not.”

  “And I thought we had?”

  “Apparently. And since you have the muscles of a man who has spent his entire life on a planet that has three times the gravity of Mars, there was no way I could have possibly forced you into this apartment.”

  “So, you let me carry you?”

  “Almost.”

  “Almost?”

  “Between your Earth muscles and my Mars weight, I assume you miscalculated. In an instant, I was higher than your head and you were off balance. You fell and hit your head on the door facing and I landed on top of you. Fortunately, you were stunned enough that I was able to drag you inside and close the door.”

  “When do we get to the part where I lost my clothes?”

  “I got the door closed and turned around just in time to see you sit up with a big idiot grin on your face. Just when I thought you were going to be okay, you puked your guts out. It went everywhere, but it probably saved your life. If I had known that you drank three dust storms, I would have taken you to the hospital and had your stomach pumped.

  “Anyway, the CleanBot took care of the floor, but your clothes had to come off and I had to get you into the shower.”

  “You took my clothes off?”

  “No, I convinced you to, and it wasn’t easy. You kept insisting that I was a randy wench who couldn’t wait to get you naked. You refused to remove your clothes until I agreed with you. I didn’t even know what a randy wench was until I looked it up. Where did you come up with that expression?”

  “I don’t know. I read a lot. So…I took off my clothes and got in the shower?”

  “With my assistance. That soiled the jumpsuit and I had to borrow one of your shirts.”

  “I noticed the shirt—and the legs. Very attractive. We didn’t uh…”

  “Uh, sleep together?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No, we didn’t sleep together,” Janet snapped.

  “Thank God!”

  “Thank God?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Thank God! Are you kidding me?”

  “No. No, no. I would really hate myself if I had slept with the most beautiful woman of two worlds and couldn’t remember it.”

  “I can accept that. I left you in the shower and put our clothes in the LaundryMate. When I returned, you were sitting in the shower, snoring. I finally got you awak
e enough to dry off and get into bed. There was no way I was going to try to get you dressed.”

  “Well, I’m really sorry for causing so much trouble—and really embarrassed.”

  “It wasn’t really your fault. And at times you were funny…and cute. But not when you were covered in puke.”

  “So, what do we do now?”

  “I explain to the governor that you drank a dust storm without realizing how much alcohol was in it. I should have been watching you more closely.”

  “Shouldn’t we tell him about the attempt on my life?”

  “No, we should not. We definitely will not tell him that.”

  “At least he would know that you’re not to blame for my actions last night.”

  “But I am to blame. You are my responsibility. And I would rather the governor blame me than even think about what will happen if he knows someone tried to kill you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At the very least, he will report it to the NAU and they will add that to the list of reasons why they want to shut down the colony. He could ask for more investigators to be sent immediately. I would much rather handle this myself. If you happen to see Moe, get a photo on your notepad. And…”

  Mason interrupted, “I still don’t have a notepad.”

  “Right. Still working on it. I’ll see if I can put a rush on it. And I can ask around among people that I know I can trust. Eventually, someone will tell me who did this to you.”

  “And when we catch him, what happens? He goes to prison?”

  Janet shook her head. “It’s not that simple. First of all, there are no prisons on Mars. And second, he would never be convicted. Of all the people on Mars, only you and the governor believe that you should have been sent here.”

  “No. Just the governor. I think that the murder should have been handled locally. But I was sent here and I’m just doing my job. But if you have no prisons, how do you punish lawbreakers?”

  “There is very little crime on Mars. Everybody knows everybody and everybody knows everybody’s business.”

  “Except on The Day of Secrets.”

  “Yes, except on The Day of Secrets.”

  “What happens to the man who served me that dust storm, if and when we catch him?”

  “I really don’t know.”

  “If I solve the murder that I was sent to investigate, what happens to the murderer?”

  “I guess that’s up to you.”

  “Explain.”

  “When you complete your investigation, you will be obligated to report your findings to the NAU?”

  “Technically, since the governor requested my services, I am required to report to him. But I am sure he will pass that information to the NAU.”

  “What if the death were not murder? What if the death were justified? Would you still report it?”

  Mason looked into Janet’s eyes searching for the meaning behind her questions. “What do you know?”

  Janet turned away avoiding eye contact. “I know the colonists. Not a single one of them is a cold-blooded killer. Whoever killed Mr. Echols must have had a good reason.”

  “There are no cold-blooded killers? But one of the colonists tried to kill me last night.”

  “I’m sure he believed that he had a good reason. Everyone sees you as a threat to the colony, and will protect the colony at any cost. What he did was inexcusable especially, since your murder would be an even greater danger to the colony than anything that you can do.”

  “But what if there is a cold-blooded killer among you?”

  “If there ever is a murderer among us, we won’t hesitate to put him to death.”

  “The NAU doesn’t permit capital punishment.”

  “Then the NAU can file a complaint. We would have no other choice. We can’t afford to maintain a prison and we can’t afford to have a killer among us.” Janet changed the subject. “Let’s forget about the case for now. Do you feel up to getting some breakfast?”

  “Sure. I think I can eat something.” When Janet continued to sit by his bedside Mason asked, “Aren’t you going to give me some privacy so I can get dressed?”

  Janet shrugged. “It’s not like you have anything that I haven’t seen.”

  Mason slid the sheet down to his belly button. “If you are still in here when I get out of bed, I am taking my shirt back.”

  Janet stood. “I have to see if the LaundryMate is finished with the jumpsuit anyway.”

  As Janet headed for the door, Mason admired the view. Her incredibly long legs reached from the floor all the way up to where they disappeared underneath the indecently short shirt. The cloth slipped seductively across the rounded derriere. He couldn’t help but wonder what, if anything, was worn underneath. But he knew that, even though he and Janet were in the same room, they were separated by millions of kilometers.

  Chapter 7

  BREAK IN

  On the way to the cafeteria, Mason and Janet stopped at her apartment so that she could get out of the jumpsuit and into her own clothes. While she was dressing, her notepad chimed. She called through the closed door, “The governor wants to see you.”

  “Do we go immediately or do we wait until after breakfast?” Mason called back.

  “There is no we. He wants to see you alone. But still we eat breakfast first.”

  ****

  At the governor’s office, before parting, Janet warned, “I don’t like the idea of being excluded from this meeting. I’d really rather not leave you alone until I can be sure that you aren’t in danger. Don’t do anything stupid and be very careful. I’ll see what I can discover and I’ll meet up with you later.”

  Inside the office building, Mason found the governor’s door open. As a courtesy, he reached inside and rapped. The governor glared at Mason. “What the hell were you thinking last night?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”

  “Were you actually trying to embarrass me?”

  “No sir. I just didn’t realize…”

  “That party was supposed to give you a chance to meet some of the more important locals. Well you certainly made a first impression, didn’t you?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. It was totally my fault and I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

  “Your fault?” The governor glared at his computer monitor. “Ms. Edwards sent me a report last night. She says that it is her fault. She says that she left you alone and you got into the frozen dust storms.”

  “No. Definitely not her fault. She went to the little girl’s room and someone handed me a drink. She has warned me about those dust storms,” Mason lied, “but I didn’t realize that was what I had. It didn’t taste of alcohol so I incorrectly assumed that it was safe. I know that I should have asked what was in it and I won’t make that mistake again. You can’t blame Janet for what I did.”

  “But I do blame that girl, damn it! She was supposed to be responsible for you and she let me down. That’s something she’s never done before. Now I guess it would be best if I assign someone else to assist you. I’ll try to find someone as quickly as…”

  “Excuse me, sir,” Mason interrupted. “I don’t want someone else. I’m the one who screwed up—not her. Punish me. Take me off this case and send me home.”

  “No, damn it! You’d like that wouldn’t you? And I know that would make the colonists happy. But you can’t leave until the next ship lifts anyway. We’ll continue as before. But no more dust storms.”

  “Definitely no more dust storms.”

  The governor sat back and folded his arms across his chest. “I remember my first dust storm. Just like you, I didn’t know that you are supposed to sip it—make it last all evening. I drank the thing down and asked for another—fortunately, they didn’t give it to me. Next thing I knew I was in my bed with one hell of a hangover.”

  “Then you do understand what happened last night.”

  “I didn’t get up on a table and start singing Sweet Belinda Blunt!”
<
br />   Mason winced. “Did I really sing that song?”

  “Yes, you sang that song. Promise me that before you eat or drink anything else, you get Ms. Edwards’ approval.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then unless you have anything more to add, you can get back to your investigation.”

  As Mason left the building, he was almost certain that he could hear the governor whistling the tune to Sweet Belinda Blunt.

  Mason walked slowly back toward his apartment. Janet had tried to take the blame for his actions, but he should have been so much more cautious. He had forgotten lesson number two. He should have realized that if a colonist were offering him a friendly drink, then the gesture was probably anything but friendly. It was a lesson he did not intend to forget.

  Mason had just entered his apartment when he heard a scream. He found Janet in the laundry room with one hand on the LaundryMate. She stood rigid, eyes wide with terror. In seconds Mason realized that Janet was being electrocuted. He looked around for anything that he might use to separate Janet from the LaundryMate but saw nothing. He had no idea where to disconnect the power and he saw no other choice but to use his own body to break the flow of current. He pushed off from the back wall and rushed toward Janet at a tangent to the LaundryMate. He felt a jolt of electricity but, thankfully, his momentum carried them both free of danger.

  The two fell in a tangle on the floor. Mason had suffered only a mild shock but Janet was unconscious. With rising panic, Mason checked Janet’s pulse—there was a heartbeat. He placed his ear near her mouth—shallow, but breathing. Janet was unconscious and Mason didn’t know if her current state had been caused by the electrical shock or because he had so roughly driven her from the LaundryMate and onto the floor.

  Janet couldn’t be moved; Mason’s actions might have caused serious internal injuries. He still didn’t have a notepad and Janet’s ‘pad would not allow him access. He had no way to call for help without leaving Janet’s side, and that was something that he would not do.

  Mason kept his vigil for nearly three quarters of an hour before Janet’s eyelids fluttered open. “Can you move? Are you hurt?” he asked.