Spindown

by Andy Crawford

  “Put your hands up.”

  Just keep him talking… Konami complied. “What’s it all about, Lopez? Why do so many have to die?”

  “It’s not personal, Konami. I promise. I know you’re just doing your duty.”

  “Come on, Master Tech. If I’m going to die, can’t you at least tell me why?”

  “You’ll be remembered.” Lopez’s voice wobbled. “And a part of you will live on and be reborn.”

  Lopez pulled the trigger, and nothing happened. The master tech’s eyes went wide, and he pulled it again, jerking the gun forward.

  Konami put his hands down. “Sorry Lopez. I loaded the—”

  In a flash Lopez was on him. Konami extended his arm, pushing hard to separate them, but the master tech just hung on, digging hard fingers into forearm. Konami cried out and punched Lopez’s face with his other arm, repeatedly, until he let go. Konami pushed him hard, tumbling him down the passageway, and started gesturing to make a call. Somehow, Lopez had grabbed something and reversed direction — man he’s good in freefall! — and kicked out, disrupting his directions to the wearable.

  The master tech dove close, almost in an embrace. Now he wished he hadn’t thrown away his weapon – he was so sure that his height and Earth-bred strength would render Lopez no threat, even without his sidearm, that he hadn’t worried about a physical confrontation. Inches away from the Chief Inspector’s, Lopez’s eyes were wide and bloodshot. He’s trying to kill me. The realization was a shock to his system, and Konami rushed his head forward in a butt. The angle was bad so he just nudged Lopez’s temple, and the master tech’s fingers jabbed his chest. Konami brought up his knees against his assailant’s hips and thighs, before pulling away desperately when the Master tech swiped at his face.

  His cheek burned — it was that sticky mass from his chest. Lopez swung again, and Konami realized he was aiming for his eyes. The stout little Data technician was surprisingly strong, and Konami barely kept him at bay.

  They had maneuvered against a bulkhead and Lopez set his legs and shot forward, ducking under Konami’s swing and latching onto Konami from the side, squeezing his throat in the crook of his arm. In desperation, Konami brought up elbows and knees to his attacker’s midsection, but Lopez absorbed the poorly angled blows with nothing more than a grunt. Only by twisting his neck could Konami get a fraction of a breath, but Lopez’s grip remained firm.

  Konami flexed spastically, gaining the barest bit of space between them, and brought his arms down and around, looping them under Lopez’s and gripping the offending wrist at his neck. Some old pressure point trick came to him and he fastened his fingers at the junction of the master tech’s wrist, squeezing with every bit of Earth-born strength he had.

  Lopez moaned in pain and let go, and Konami ducked and kicked away. The master tech didn’t let up, setting his feet on the bulkhead and launching straight for Konami once again.

  It had been years since Konami had practiced self-defense, but a move presented itself — he used the momentum of Lopez’s motion to hurl him over his shoulder. In zero-g it was much easier than he remembered. The change in momentum pushed Konami backwards, and he turned around to see Lopez flying into the open hatch. “No! The LoaderBot—”

  With a metallic groan a dull appendage latched onto Lopez’s leg. Konami kicked off the bulkhead and grabbed the master tech’s gloved hand. “Hold on goddamn it!”

  Lopez screamed as he was pulled into the storage space. The LoaderBot was much too strong — Konami had to let go lest he be pulled into the space as well. In the midst of the Master tech’s screams, he scrambled around the passageway for his weapons, at the same time putting in a notification to Emer. But before he got back to the hatch, there was a horrific crunch, and the screams stopped abruptly.

  “Lopez?” Konami slowly approached the open hatch, turning on his wearable’s lamp.

  He took one look inside and shut his eyes — Lopez’s body was crushed and torn to pieces, alongside the battered corpses of the missing surge team Bravo.

  His wearable chirped. “Cy? It’s Ginsberg. Taki and I are in position.”

  Konami turned his head and puked his guts out.

  “This is the second time, Chief Inspector,” said the captain. It felt to Konami like an interrogation — just him, the captain, the mayor, and the XO, in a claustrophobic office. “The second time you’ve been alone with someone who ends up dead, only to have something go wrong with your vidcam.”

  He hadn’t even thought about the vidcam — the Data techs never recovered the video of Gregorian’s suicide. Of course, he thought, those are Lopez’s techs.

  “I can’t explain the vidcams, except that Lopez was involved both times. His techs supposedly tried to dig up the vid of Kiro’s suicide, and he threw this stuff that melted the—”

  “The MedTechs report no burns on Master Tech Lopez’s hands, or anywhere else,” interrupted XO Criswell.

  “He was — I think he was wearing gloves.” Damn… he couldn’t remember if Lopez had worn gloves. He must have, he decided, if he wasn’t burned.

  “And the weapons. Why was Master Tech Lopez’s firearm loaded with bad slugs?”

  Crap. “I was suspicious — ever since he lied about some maintenance Muahe did. And he just happened to attach himself to this latest rescue team, when he’d never been on a single surge team — that worried me. It’s a good thing I was suspicious — he pulled the trigger. He would have killed me.”

  An Admin tech entered silently and handed something to the XO, who conferred in whispering tones with the captain and the mayor. Konami was disheartened that Mayor Akunle wouldn’t even meet his gaze.

  “There’s more, Chief Inspector,” said the captain, her eyes seeming to bore into Konami’s very soul. “We found this in your quarters.” She held up a data stick — it meant nothing to Konami — and inserted it into her desk unit. A repeater screen displayed the contents for Konami. It was fabrication specs for several items — oxygen tanks, body armor, electrical safety gloves, and more. As the details scrolled by on the screen, Konami slowly realized what it was — defective versions of safety equipment, like the filter that killed Muahe.

  “That’s not mine! Someone planted it! Why’d you even search my quarters? The charter—”

  “We’ve declared an emergency, and you know better than most our emergency powers. With sufficient cause, we can conduct searches anywhere onboard.”

  Konami tried to stifle his emotions, fluctuating between rage and panic. “What was the cause?”

  The captain didn’t answer.

  “It was an anonymous tip, right? Quite a coincidence… the Data techs can’t find the recording of Kiro’s suicide, the department master tech tries to kill me and melts my vidcam, and an anonymous tip leads you to a data stick with incriminating data.”

  He wasn’t sensing any change so he shifted tactics. “If I’m a bad guy, am I really dumb enough to keep the incriminating data on a stick in my own quarters?”

  Konami caught her eyes flicker to the XO. She’s uncertain.

  “We’ll hold a hearing tomorrow, Chief Inspector. You’re entitled to representation. If you cannot or do not choose—”

  “I know the rules. Bea. Lieutenant Mattoso. I want her.”

  CHAPTER 52

  In the conference room, suddenly feeling spare and massive with only a few individuals present, Captain Horovitz cleared her throat. “In accordance with the Emergency language of the Charter, we are holding this hearing to evaluate whether there is sufficient evidence to consider Cyrus Konami, department head for the Constabulary, as a formal suspect for the murders of Debuty Chief Inspector Kiro Gregorian and Data Department Master Technician Aaron Lopez. Per the emergency powers, a full Grand Jury is waived, and our acting Jury will consist of Wilson Paramis, Mara Ngayabo, Hamad Maltin, Director-Superintendent Harry Akunle, and myself, Captain Lillin Horovitz. Due to the public interest in this case, Journalist Conneer is present and authorized to record
the proceedings. Executive Officer Criswell, you will begin the case of the prosecution.”

  “The prosecution holds that there is sufficient evidence to consider CI Konami a possible suspect. Considering the extremely tenuous nature of current ship’s status, and considering the absolutely critical importance of the chief inspector position in the present, we hold that even a small suspicion of the CI’s possible guilt should be enough to remove him from this critical position. We will lay out the following evidence—”

  Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me… Mattoso could read the subtext — which was barely even hidden — in the XO’s introduction. There was a process for removing department heads from duty, but barring medical necessity, the process was lengthy and deliberate. She doubted that the CO and XO had any certainty that Konami was guilty, but they had lost trust in the chief inspector, at least temporarily. A formal accusation of a crime would be enough to remove him from duty, and was much quicker than a department head investigation.

  The hearing lasted only an hour — Konami was questioned, the XO offered alternatives for every aspect of his story, and Mattoso played up the chief inspector’s importance in the investigation so far and record of honest service.

  The “jury” retired for a few minutes and returned, and from the way they avoided looking at Konami, she already knew how it went.

  “Cyrus Konami, you are formally charged with the murders of Deputy Chief Inspector Kiro Gregorian and Data Department Master Technician Aaron Lopez. Until this case is resolved, you are hereby temporarily removed from your duties to the ship and crew, and will be confined to your quarters. You will not be allowed to leave your quarters unaccompanied. If you…”

  Mattoso felt an awful pit in her stomach. Who would lead the investigation? There were still killers onboard — multiple killers, most likely. And the ship’s best detective was just removed from the case. Almost like it was planned…

  She put her hand on Konami’s shoulder, but he just looked down at his feet. When the captain finished her statement, two crewmen awkwardly drifted in and led Konami out the hatch. Mattoso made to follow, but the XO stopped her, telling her to wait.

  She looked up nervously at the captain and the mayor, sitting at the head of the table. Captain Horovitz turned to one of the Bigwigs, Wilson Paramis, and nodded.

  “Lieutenant,” started the Bigwig, with a toothy grin. “I volunteered to have this honor. Please raise your right hand.”

  Confused, Mattoso raised her hand.

  “Now repeat after me — I, Beatriz Mattoso, do solemnly affirm…”

  She repeated the words, comprehension and terror slowly dawning.

  “…to support and follow the laws of the Charter for a New Humanity… to serve and protect all Aoteans… and to honorably lead the Constabulary Department onboard Aotea.”

  The grinning Bigwig had to tell her that she could lower her hand.

  “Beatriz Mattoso, you are hereby assigned as acting chief inspector. Your duties in the Operations Department are suspended for now, and you will report to the Constabulary. A notification is being distributed…”

  She still couldn’t believe it. What about the other constables? The only reason she could think of that they wouldn’t be chosen is that they might be too close to Cy. Would they really accept her as their new boss? For a brief moment she felt like she was falling — but it was only the freefall… always falling, never landing.

  CHAPTER 53

  We’re not the future… Gregorian’s last words, just before he blew his brains out. Konami didn’t know what else to do — confined to his quarters, his network access was restricted to just the most basic entertainment libraries — so he pored over every loose end he could think of.

  We’re not the future… and neither are the children, according to Kiro. The little stomach complaints are continuing, and Bea and Ilsa are worried it might be poison. At least part of Data Department is compromised — obviously Lopez… can I trust DT3 Wren? God, if not, then we’re all screwed, since he knows everything I do.

  He was glad that Lieutenant Mattoso had been picked to replace him — Loesser was probably a better choice on paper, but considering Gregorian’s fate, Konami doubted the Chain of Command would happily entrust the third-in-command from the Constabulary department when they already didn’t trust the first, and the second was dead.

  We’re not the future… If Aoteans weren’t the future, then who was? Aliens? Bots? Konami snorted — this wasn’t a sci-fi pulp story. Someone was behind this. Someone had a plan. Who else? Another ship? Did Gregorian just mean most Aoteans, not all? He shook his head to himself.

  Goddamn it, Kiro. He wished his friend was still here. After he punched him in the face, they’d talk. Kiro would sidestep and make jokes, but eventually he’d tell Konami what was really going on. And Konami would convince him to help them stop it.

  He thought back to his predecessor — a woman named Aliyeva, whose suicide had prompted the leadership to call Konami, the first alternate to the position. He hadn’t thought about her for a while, but realized that, prior to Gregorian, she was the last person onboard to commit suicide. Was there a common thread, besides that they both were high-ranking constables? He didn’t know. Maybe Wren could help dig up her past, if he could reach the young Data tech. Maybe it was too late for that.

  He missed Kostya… he hadn’t seen the dog in several days, after sending her to the Vet techs’ special zero-g pet kennel. At least she had seemed happy last time he saw her — finally accustomed to the freefall, and bouncing around the padded zero-g pet space with a dozen other jenji pets. A handful of VetBots, reprogrammed to be safe, kept them fed and cleaned, as much as was possible when liquids wouldn’t stay on the floor.

  His door chimed. Konami’s eyes lit up when he saw it was Madani, and he dove forward to embrace her. They kissed deeply and Konami had to restrain himself from starting to unbutton her jumpsuit.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  Madani continued. “I’ve still been looking into—”

  Konami cut her off with a gesture. No more trusting the anti-surveillance rules of the charter… Whoever was trying to frame him had planted that data stick in his quarters, and he wasn’t going to trust that they hadn’t planted some illegal recording device as well.

  Konami pointed subtly to his stomach, miming being sick.

  Madani nodded. “I, uh, have some ideas. Nothing concrete, but maybe soon.”

  He nodded back, and she pulled him toward her. As she took off her jumpsuit, he wondered if he ought to warn her about the potential for surveillance. But he said nothing — he was too damned tired, and too damned something else, to care.

  CHAPTER 54

  “Sharpshooters ready?” asked Mattoso. Once a preliminary design for slugthrowers had been finalized, it was easily modified into long range models. They reported that they were ready.

  She surveyed the area — they were in Reactor Machinery Room Four, one of the larger engineering spaces in the aft section. An elevated gantry surrounded the massive accelerator, coiling around itself before departing the space on either side into the heavily shielded Reactor Rooms. The floating sharpshooters bracketed the accelerator in the overhead piping above the gantry on three sides, with the fourth side occupied by their targets, two heavy-duty RoverBots, currently busy with some unneeded maintenance. Mattoso floated above the opposite end from the target Bots.

  “Commencing collaborator insertion,” she said, before turning to the smaller Bot by her side. “Zinnia, execute data operation — the targets are the two RoverBots at the other end of this space.”

  “Understood and executing,” responded the MOMbot.

  Mattoso couldn’t help but think of the obedient and undersized Bots as children. Teacher Kabila had been correct — once Mattoso was formally admitted into the Education Department as a teacher, the MOMbots obeyed her orders without question.

  This was the
eleventh operation with the MOMbots so far — only one had required the intervention of the sharpshooters. A GardenBot had resisted — or at least given the appearance of resistance — to the ministrations of the MOMbot who was trying to insert the coding stick. To ensure the precious MOMbot wasn’t harmed, Mattoso had ordered the sharpshooters to shoot, destroying the GardenBot.

  Everything went smoothly this time — the RoverBots ignored Zinnia while she inserted the coding sticks, and a heavily armored constable approached the Bots to test their reaction — they made no aggressive motions, even moving out of the way when the constable deliberately pushed himself into them, so he marked them with green paint to indicate that they were safe.

  The progress in regaining control of lost spaces since Mattoso had started her new duties, just days before, was astonishing. She heard the whispers, supposing that Konami had been deliberately sabotaging the surge efforts, but she didn’t believe it. It must be the MOMbots, she decided. And maybe Konami had already cleaned out the most difficult Bots to deal with, leaving Mattoso with the easiest left over.

  But she couldn’t help feeling proud — even Conneer’s daily news had noticed, announcing that the surge rate had “tripled” since Konami was replaced. Pride, and sadness, since she was certain that Konami could probably do an even better job, and didn’t deserve to be stuck in house arrest.

  It occurred to her that, just a cycle or so ago, the idea of pride in using violence, even against Bots, would have been unfathomable. Circumstances change everything. A Rahmon quote came to her: “Justifying violence is the easiest thing in the world… finding peaceful resolution is much harder,” and for just a moment she felt a flash of nausea. She’s not here,she told herself. What would she do, anyway – just submit to the killer robots?

  Mattoso realized she was shaking her head violently, and stopped.