Spindown

by Andy Crawford

  Konami was beginning to understand what they intended. Including how dangerous this could be — he couldn’t help but notice Mattoso palming the dart gun in her pocket, and a similar bulge in Madani’s pocket as well. He checked the one Lieutenant Mattoso gave him one last time before they opened the doors.

  CHAPTER 60

  Conversation stopped, and all heads swiveled toward the new arrivals.

  “Konam—,” cried CHENG Papka. “What the hell is he doing here?”

  “Someone is poisoning the crew,” announced Madani. Mattoso was impressed by her volume — they certainly had everyone’s attention. “We’ve discovered the cause of the outbreak of minor stomach complaints.”

  Mattoso scanned the room, trying to discern any suspicious reactions from those present. She had been worried that Captain Horovitz might explode in anger at the surprise release of Konami, but the Commanding Officer continued to sit silently and stone-faced.

  “Phenelzine,” continued Madani. “A very old drug, one that hasn’t been in wide use for a long time. Mostly harmless on its own, but with known and possibly fatal side effects when mixed with many other relatively common pharmaceuticals and chemicals.” She turned and nodded, and Mattoso started to pass out the test strips. “I would ask that everyone present submit to instant blood tests — one drop of blood on these strips will tell us if phenelzine is present in your blood — it turns blue.”

  “And what would this tell us?” asked the XO.

  “Phenelzine has been present, in small quantities, in almost every blood sample, randomly selected, of several hundred Aoteans. Among those samples include blood from anyone recently deceased. With just a few exceptions, everyone has tested positive for phenelzine.” Madani paused. “Less than five percent tested negative, including Singh, Gregorian, Lopez, and Halonen.”

  As they had planned, both Madani and Mattoso turned to CHENG Papka and stared at him, ignoring the indrawn breaths and surprised exclamations.

  “I will ask again — everyone please submit to a sample; the test is instantaneous.”

  Sweat was running down Papka’s face. “Why—”

  “I’ll do it,” said Captain Horovitz, rolling up her sleeve. “Where’s the needle?”

  Papka abruptly kicked away from the bolted conference table and scrambled for the exit. In the freefall he was forced to reach out and grab those officers near him to pull himself to the handholds on the bulkhead, and as soon as the captain snapped an order, his neighbors simply grabbed and held onto his extremities.

  “It would appear that we’ve found the conspirator,” said the XO with genuine surprise.

  “We found one,” interrupted Konami. “One more suspect. That’s all we’ve found. The blood tests must continue.”

  Mattoso grinned at the chief inspector, relieved to have him on her side once more. It was the first time she’d felt like smiling since the shooting.

  “Agreed,” said the captain, and the mayor nodded as well. “Everyone will provide blood—”

  “I don’t think so.” It was Ngayabo, the Bigwig. She was aiming a gun — an unfamiliar design, much smaller than the bulky pieces that Fab had come up with. It looked like the stills Mattoso had seen of the weapon Gregorian used to kill himself. Flechettes, she thought she recalled. Konami made a move and Ngayabo re-aimed her gun. “No, Konami, drop it.”

  Konami lowered his dart gun but kept it in his hand. When Mattoso glanced at a shuffling noise, three other department heads had produced similar weapons — Supply Commander Chulanont, Genetics Lab Director Leigh, and Administrative Director Das. Chief Engineer Papka shrugged off his distracted captors and pushed over to join Ngayabo.

  “This is not what it seems,” continued Ngayabo. Mattoso tried to subtly draw her dart gun, but the Bigwig noticed and shook her head, gesturing with her gun for emphasis. “Unless you want several people in this room to die, we will be leaving without violence, and I swear that you will hear from us soon.” Just before we left she turned and looked over her shoulder. “You aren’t under attack. This is part of the plan, and always has been. That’s all I’ll say now.”

  Before anyone could object, the five conspirators pulled themselves to a side door and exited the briefing room. Most shocked were the other two Bigwigs, especially Hamad Maltin — the older man’s eyes bulged and he fidgeted frantically.

  Captain Horovitz abruptly made a call to the Officer of the Deck, a Lieutenant Geautreaux. She looked at Madani, who scanned a projection and then shrugged. Damn… no sample for Geautreaux, apparently. Mattoso looked at the same time, speaking up after scanning Geautreaux’s bio file. “Captain — he’s thirty-seven, and he’s from Earth.”

  The captain nodded and spoke again. “Lieutenant, order Action Stations. Suspend all non-vital events and evolutions — including any maintenance or operations not required immediately for safety of ship or crew. All watch station hatches will be locked shut. Hold one moment—” The captain looked up and turned to the executive officer. “XO, submit to a blood test, immediately.”

  Madani hastily produced a needle, pricking the XO’s finger on a test strip. She showed off the blue-tinted strip around the room.

  “Lieutenant Geautreaux,” continued the captain. “All watch stations will lock their hatches immediately and only open them by the order of myself, the XO, Chief Medical Officer Madani, or Chief Inspector Konami.”

  Konami grinned at that, nodding to Mattoso. Good, she thought.

  “Did you say—”

  “Yes. Chief Inspector Konami has resumed his duties. We will shortly delegate and share the names of more officers with the same authority. Are my instructions clear?”

  There was a pause. “Yes, Captain, they are clear.”

  “Very well.”

  A moment later, announcements began, echoing the captain’s instructions.

  With a gesture from the captain, the blood tests resumed, and everyone left in the conference room tested positive for phenelzine. Madani recorded an entry for each result. The lessening in the room’s tension was palpable.

  “This war has entered the next phase,” announced the captain. “Our attackers have made themselves known.”

  Mattoso’s wearable chirped — it was an Emer call. At the captain’s insistence, she turned up the volume for everyone to here. “Emer, it’s Mattoso — what is it?”

  “It’s — I’m not sure, Lieutenant. Pandemonium in Engineering, it seems. Simultaneous reports of violence, and then it went blank.”

  “It’s happening – it’s spread from Earth, and now—” someone babbled until they were hushed.

  Shit… how the hell do we send constables when anyone of them could be traitors? She met Konami’s eyes, and he nodded. He trusts me.

  “Emer, Mattoso. Activate all reserves. That’s my last order. By order of the captain, Chief Inspector Konami is resuming his duties.”

  CHAPTER 61

  “The ‘safe zones’ are no longer safe,” announced Konami. “We need new safe territory. We need to search for recording devices, starting in this room. We can assume that adherence to the Charter is right out of the window for the betrayers.”

  “Recording devices?” exclaimed Hamad Maltin, horror in his voice.

  “Absolutely,” answered Konami. “For now, audible interference will do.” He spared another look for Maltin, and the other remaining Bigwig, Wilson Paramis. Could they be traitors, despite their blood test results? Does the rot extend to the entire SNH leadership, or was Ngayabo an aberration? He filed it for later consideration.

  At their questions, he showed them what he intended — it was a technique that the syndicates in Lagos used to beat low-level bugs, the kind used by underfunded police departments. He arranged several wearables around one corner of the room, broadcasting various frequencies of static, and the most senior officers present stayed at the center, speaking in low voices.

  “Papka’s forces are trying to get control of Engineering,” stated the captain. “Ri
ght now, they have the element of surprise.”

  No one said anything, until the XO spoke up, pointing out that from the engineering spaces, they could control power flow to every system on the ship, including air and water.

  Shit. This was one of the few times that Konami wished he had the expertise that came with the full technical qualifications for Aotea’s engineering systems.

  “Options?” asked the captain.

  “A remote shutdown might be possible,” offered Mattoso. “If the operators are away from their stations due to the fighting, the Data techs might be able to hack into the control programs and initiate shutdown.”

  “How long?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The Data Systems director, Shin, spoke up nervously. “A few hours at minimum, once we identify which techs are loyal. And any operator in Engineering can shut us down if they’re paying attention.”

  “We know one who is loyal,” added Mattoso.

  “Too long, and too uncertain,” decided the captain. “Other options?”

  Konami thought of one, but he didn’t like it. He spoke up anyway. “Overwhelming force. With darts, anyway. We gather up every adult Aotean we can get word to, test them if we can, and issue dart guns to them all. Maybe even syringes with meds when we run out of dart guns. We storm Engineering and dart absolutely everyone, and sort out who’s who later.”

  Captain Horovitz nodded, and the XO agreed as well. “Very well. Make preparations.”

  “One more thing before I get started — we need Conneer. The journalist.”

  She answered the summons so quickly that Konami wondered if she had been waiting in the passageway outside the conference room.

  They briefed her on the latest events.

  “So… you want an article?”

  “Think of it as an exclusive,” suggested Konami.

  Conneer cocked her head. “We could do an interview. The captain and the mayor, answering—”

  “No,” interrupted Captain Horovitz. “That would take too long.” She turned to Konami, her gaze intense. “With every second they’re getting further and further into Engineering.”

  Goddamnit. He nodded and turned to Conneer. “Can’t you just report what happened?”

  “But I wasn’t there. And more importantly, the readers weren’t there. They weren’t here, in the conference room.” The journalist shook her head. “I read the boards all day. People are scared out of their wits, and they don’t know who to trust. Hell, half of them don’t trust me anymore, even if I said that I was here. Maybe more.”

  Konami slumped. Without the trust of most Aoteans, chaos and violence could rule the ship for weeks.

  “I think I have a solution,” offered Mattoso. She projected a vid — the entire department head meeting, starting from when they arrived. Meeting Konami’s wide eyes, she pointed to the vidcam pinned to her uniform with a smirk.

  Konami could have kissed her.

  “If this is going to work,” said Conneer. “I need that vid. Everyone needs to see it.”

  Mattoso looked to the Captain. Horovitz and Mayor Akunle shared a look and nodded.

  AOTEA TODAY: SPECIAL EDITION

  BETRAYAL RECORDED! VID PROVES MARA NGAYABO IS LEAD CONSPIRATOR!

  Konami scanned the article and ended the projection. He glanced up at the constables and deputies preparing sidearms and body armor — the latter mostly improvised — at the edge of the aft Can. They were waiting outside the entrance to the aft Engineering section, through the Aft Ring. Before he spoke, he made sure the last of the red sashes that would differentiate them from everyone in the engineering spaces were issued and donned.

  “Alpha Squad is with me,” announced Konami. “Bravo is the reserves, with Loesser in command.” He didn’t mention how he had divided the squads — without the time to blood test everyone, Alpha was exclusively those from Earth or under forty cycles of age, while Bravo was made up of an even mix. “I don’t have to tell you how serious this is. You’ve all been briefed. But just remember that our weapons are not lethal, and everyone will be revived. Everyone inside — everyone without a red sash — is a target. We absolutely cannot lose control of Engineering.” He looked out over the small crowd — about sixty in Alpha, and another forty in Bravo. I hope we won’t need Bravo… Chances were that at least one or two of Bravo were conspirators. “Any questions?”

  Someone spoke up, asking how they could know if they could trust their squad mates.

  Konami didn’t have the time for a diplomatic answer and spoke frankly. “We don’t. You’ve all been assigned two partners. If you see anyone alone, even with a red sash, dart them. If one of your partners goes down due to enemy fire, stay with them — otherwise you become a target. Anything else?”

  No one replied.

  “Everyone has their assignments.” Konami projected onto the bulkhead. “Casualty Control Central, Alpha Squad is ready for entry. Bravo Squad is our reserves.”

  “Roger, Chief Inspector. Proceed, and good luck.”

  “Door team, that’s your cue!”

  The door through the Aft Ring was opened, and two geared-up welders made their way to the far hatch that led to Engineering. A formation of constables and deputies aimed dart guns as the welders, gear in hand that would have weighed hundreds of kilos on Earth, made short work of the heavy pressure hatch, and Konami and his team were first to charge, such as could be done in freefall, into Engineering Middle Level. It was a tight squeeze with his three-man team in between the bulky sets of piping and machinery, made even tighter as other teams cycled through the hatch. So far, there was no resistance. Once all of his men were arranged through the passageways and alcoves of Engineering Forward Level, Konami gave the order into his wearable, to all of Alpha Squad, to proceed to their assigned capture points. With the help of some junior Engineering officers, Konami had hastily arranged a capture plan for the entire Engineering and Reactor spaces, with teams assigned to every single space within.

  After transmitting the order, Konami pulled himself to a ladderwell and quickly ascended to the next level up. He had assigned his own team — Constable Goodluck, Reactor Tech Tan, and himself — the Fusion Control Room. On the catwalk above Forward Level 1, he had a good view of much of the space — for a moment he watched the teams scramble through to the other Engineering spaces, then pulled his attention back to his own surroundings and headed aft for the Control Room.

  But between Konami’s team and the Control Room was Engineering Middle Level 1, and a closed hatch. Luckily, the interior hatches of the Engineering spaces were much less robust than the pressure hatch that divided the spaces from the Aft Ring and Can. He nodded to Goodluck and Tan, who proceeded forward, pulling out their mini-cutters.

  They started to cut, and the hatch exploded.

  CHAPTER 62

  Mattoso couldn’t stop herself from looking over her shoulder, even though she hadn’t seen anyone in the hab unit passageway since she entered. She knocked quietly on the door. Damn it, Wren… we don’t have time for this! The message he had sent her was terse and in a loose code they had worked out, urgently requesting a meeting.

  Finally confident, for the first time since the second murder, she realized, that the senior officers — at least the CO, XO, and mayor — were trustworthy, she had told them about Third Wren’s invaluable assistance in she and Konami’s investigations. But she didn’t tell them quite everything.

  The door slid open, and Wren peeked out warily.

  Before they said anything, she brought out the test strips. They did it simultaneously — both visibly relaxing when the strips turned blue. Fingers are gonna be sore as hell by the time we’re through with this…

  Wren had turned his cramped quarters into a data and vid center — the two rooms were so crowded with wearables, vidscreens, and auxiliary processors, that Mattoso and the Data tech couldn’t occupy either one together at the same time.

  “I only have a minute,” said Mattoso. “I hav
e to get back to CC Central.”

  “This’ll just take a minute.” Wren motioned Mattoso to an array of screens, divided into grids of hundreds of smaller vids running simultaneously. “I had a thought and checked the timestamps of the vid to the running cams from watchstanders and deputies — minutes after Ngayabo revealed herself, a handful of watchstander and rover cams started winking out, one after the other, or sometimes a bunch at once.”

  “…like they got the order—”

  “…to shut down their cams. Exactly.”

  Mattoso nodded, impressed. “So who are they?”

  Wren grinned and sent a stream of data to her wearable.

  Scanning, she recognized half of the names — mostly senior officers and crewmembers, though not at the department head level. Shit… almost every department was represented. This real-time capacity that Wren had set up, to analyze and catalogue vidcam streams as they were recorded, was the only remaining tool that she and Konami had kept from everyone else.

  “Most of the vidcams were turned back on, later,” added Wren.

  Mattoso debated whether she should submit the names to the captain. Is this enough evidence — turning off a vidcam? Maybe they just needed a head break. She made up her mind, figuring that everyone would be blood tested anyway. And she didn’t want to throw around hasty accusations, so she transmitted the list to Konami to see what he thought.

  She was about to head back to Casualty Control Central when she got the angry buzz of an urgent message. Her eyes widened as she read it, then she turned to face Wren, swallowing.

  “What is it?”