Aeolus Investigations Set 2: Too Cool To Lose: The Continuing Evolution of Lexi Stevens
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Lexi nodded her head. “Right, Bob. I’ve been guilty of using it myself. His experience in that position and his connections with dozens of heads of state made him the ideal person to step up to the role of planetary governor.”
“I suppose your being his daughter didn’t have anything to do with it?”
She frowned. “I can’t really answer that. I insisted that Earth needed a central authority for interactions with the other Accord worlds and for Home Fleet to report to. He was selected for that position in a unanimous vote by most of the governments on the planet. It wouldn’t surprise me if his relationship to me was taken into account, but neither of us suggested it. I suspect whoever had his prior job would have wound up as Earth’s governor. Admittedly, it did make it easier for us to work together right from the start. We didn’t have to waste time getting to know each other or learning to trust each other.” She shrugged. “Someone may have even thought of that.”
“What’s your take on his living with your husband’s mother?”
“My take? That’s an odd way to phrase it. Geena Samue is one of my best friends. Her husband died decades ago. She and her then fifteen-year-old son, Ron, continued their family business as licensed insurance investigators. She is capable and she is smart. You recall that I’m concerned about the impact Earth will have on the Accord?”
“Of course.”
“I’m one woman, Bob. Think about the impact I’ve made and what billions of us are capable of.” She paused a moment. “Dad has been alone since Mama died twenty-nine years ago now. I’m happy he and Geena found each other. Geena knows as much about Accord politics and culture as just about anybody. I think she’ll be a terrific asset for Earth as she and Dad work to smooth the transition of Earth into the Accord.”
Bob was nodding with a smile on his face. “Now that we’re talking family and relationships, let’s invite Ron to join us,” Bob said. To the audience’s applause, Ron walked out from backstage, dressed to the nines in a classic tuxedo. As Bob rose, they shook hands. Ron bent over and kissed Lexi and then sat in the chair next to her. With the camera full on Ron, Bob said, “Ladies and gentlemen, Ron Samue.”
Amidst additional applause and with the camera still cut to him, Ron smiled and waved.
“Ron, I know the first question on just about everybody’s mind at this moment is just how tall are you? You certainly tower over me.”
“I’m six-foot-seven, Bob. For your non-US audience, that’s a fraction over two meters. Apparently, asking my height was anticipated. One of your cereal companies wanted me to plug their product when I answered it. I’m afraid I declined.”
“Capitalism at its finest,” Bob said with a shrug while the audience’s laughter was dying down. Bob reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a blank three-by-five card, pretended to glance at it, and tossed it aside. “I guess I won’t ask you what your favorite beer is then.” Additional laughter and a smattering of applause accompanied that. “You guys are both still in your mid-thirties and pretty much run the known galaxy. What’s next for you?”
Ron smiled and shook his head. “Lexi runs the known galaxy. I make the coffee in the morning. But seriously, we’ve discussed that a lot recently. We’d both like to step out of the limelight and go back to being insurance investigators. We’re still licensed. Neither of us sees that happening though. We’re too well known. Plus one of our primary assets has been stolen by your new governor. I can safely speak for both of us when I say we wish them the best. What we expect we’ll wind up doing is to start exploring the rest of the galaxy. There’s a lot of it and the Accord is no more than a tiny pocket. It should keep us busy and out of trouble for a while.”
“Boldly go where no one has gone before?” Bob asked with a smile.
“Something like that, yes,” Ron agreed, also smiling.
“What about children. Are there any in your future?”
Lexi answered. “Absolutely. Hopefully quite a few.”
Ron interjected, “Both of us were only children and would like to have a large family as a result.” He reached over and squeezed Lexi’s hand.
She smiled at him before turning back to the interviewer. “We still need to eliminate the pirate menace. One of the things we learned from the events on Ostrieachia is that the pirate civilization, called the Unity, controls at least seven solar systems. Concurrent with our preparations for facing the Kreesh, I sent probe ships crewed by Ostrieachian volunteers to survey Unity space. We now know the number of worlds in their empire is much greater than the seven we already knew about. They have been subjugating other worlds for nearly a thousand years. Dealing with them is at the top of my to-do list. It’s not something I can delegate. Unfortunately, we’re going to be years building up the fleet to a size where we can confront them. So like Ron said, we’ll be exploring for a while.”
“I know I’m not the only one here wondering; why do you feel they’re your problem, Lexi?”
“You know, Bob, Geena asked me almost exactly the same question when we first learned the full extent of the situation on Ostrieachia. I’ll give you the same answer I gave her. Dealing with them has to be somebody’s problem, doesn’t it? We can’t close our eyes and pretend they’re not out there. We know more about pirates today than at any other time in the history of the Accord. They’re not just the deadly nuisance people have always assumed. They’re organized. The total number of warships they can field exceeds that of the Accord a hundred times over. That’s a conservative estimate. If nothing is done about them we’ll be experiencing a full-fledged interstellar war within the next hundred years; an interstellar war that the Accord will lose; Earth will lose.”
“That’s a very bleak future you paint, Lexi.” Bob paused. These ending minutes of the interview had not gone as he planned. Not even close. The intent had been to introduce this exceptional child of Earth to the people of her planet. It was supposed to quiet the nerves of a global population who was still dealing with the realization that they weren’t alone in the universe. That, in fact, they were a very small part of that universe. It was planned to end on an upbeat note, discussing children and the future plans of a pair of retired superheroes. Now his audience was essentially being told they had a hundred years left until becoming embroiled in an interstellar war with a pirate empire. That left him, really, with only one question he could ask. “Will you be able to stop them?”
“Yes.”
Geena’s Story
An Aeolus Investigations “Origins” Experience
by
Robert E Colfax
Cover art by Dave Kirk
Edited by Rosemary Wright
Published by Robert C Kirk
Copyright © 2021 Robert C Kirk
All rights reserved.
The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the copyright owner is an infringement of the copyright law.
Chapter 1
Introduction
Hello, again, my friends. My name is Urania. I’m a sentient, thinking being. I could just tell you I live on a starship — which, while true, is misleading. I am the starship. (That means I never have to diet — think about it.) Since I’m not sure exactly what my writer friend, Bob Colfax, is going to do with this, I should probably provide some background. He keeps asking me for more of this type of material and I’m pleased to comply. Besides, it’s easy enough.
Bob is the man who has been documenting the adventures my crew and I have been experiencing ever since Lexi arranged for him to host that first interview — the one she did when we first came to Earth, before the start of the war with the Kreesh. Be sure to read that “episode.” It’s our most recent adventure — number five the way he has them laid out.
Bob refers to the Aeolus adventures as episodes. I’m not sure why. I still haven’t asked him. It just doesn
’t seem that important.
This story isn’t about me although I do show up, sort of, near the end. (OK, yes, I wasn’t really me then.) Once we met the woman now known as the Marshal of the Accord, Lexi Stevens, all of our lives changed dramatically. For one thing, she was the one who realized that I’m alive. That took me by surprise as much as anybody else. Before then, I was, like I say, a starship with a quirky AI owned by Samue Investigations, a pair of interstellar insurance investigators. When Lexi came on board, the four of us — Geena Samue, Ron Samue, Lexi Stevens, and I — formed a new partnership. We called it Aeolus Investigations. (Lexi’s idea — she likes the old Greek names.)
[Editor’s note: Other than the above paragraph, Urania’s ramblings about the current status of team members has been removed. You can thank me later.]
That aside, this story isn’t about Aeolus. It isn’t even about Lexi — I know, they all seem to be, don’t they? No, this story was told to us by Geena Samue, although her name was Geena Bitus back when it began.
We all have quite a bit of free time traveling between the stars. One of the ways we pass that time is by telling stories. One night, we got Geena to reminisce about how the adventure started for her.
This story takes place before either Lexi or Ron was born. It takes place before the birth of Aeolus Investigations. Even Samue Investigations didn’t exist yet. Don’t get snarky with me! It was after the big bang that started the universe. Geena was still a cop — more precisely, she was a homicide detective — on Cardin’s Paradise.
One other thing. As you read this, some of it is going to seem almost prescient — especially some of what Geena claims four-year-old Ron Samue said. We didn’t give her a truth serum but I will state for the record that my cabin sensors are sensitive enough that I would have been able to tell if she was deviating from what she believes to be the truth. So make of it what you will.
I’m going to make the same suggestion I made last time I recounted one of the team’s stories. Why don’t you sit back with a glass of wine while you’re reading this. If you’re underage, stick with soda. Or water. Keeping hydrated is always a good idea. If you haven’t had breakfast yet, drink whatever you think best.
Please enjoy another of the non-episodic adventures of my crew.
Chapter 2
The Scene of the Crime
Detective Geena Bitus took a deep breath as she entered the crime scene. She was battling unexpected self-doubts about her first solo case. Violent crime of this nature was rare in the city. Most of the cases that came her way had been domestic — usually crimes of passion. Plus, for her half-year probationary period, she had worked with a partner.
Her partner, Anna, had been gruff, abrupt even, at times. But the woman had a wealth of experience and always seemed happy enough to share — as long as you got her coffee with precisely the right amount of sweetener. Anna had taken training her newly-minted detective partner seriously. And, oh my, the woman liked to talk — not always relating to prior cases. She apparently also had an active love life. Geena wasn’t really all that interested in hearing those stories, well, those reports, but she listened politely anyway.
This case wasn’t domestic. That was obvious from a quick glance. Anna had counseled her when taking in a fresh crime scene to stop and get an overall feel for the situation. Was anything out of place? Were there any notable smells? And not to ignore any sounds. And, over and above everything else, make no assumptions, at least not until you had the facts. She knew she could reach out to Anna if she needed to bounce ideas off of someone, or if she wanted someone else to review whatever evidence was collected. She was reluctant to admit she might still need help. Besides, any concerns of that nature were premature. She only just got here.
The department’s medical tech was squatting on the floor examining one of the three bodies — an older woman. Either one of the few who didn’t use the stay-young drugs at all or one beyond the age where they remained effective. Geena made a mental note that, at twenty-six, she was old enough to think about starting on them. The body next to the woman’s was an older-looking male. The third body was out of her line of sight behind the counter. The predominant smells in the room were something floral, possibly from an air freshener, and the coppery scent of fresh blood.
The two victims she had a clear view of had clean, round holes in their foreheads. Their deaths would have been nearly instant. She walked closer to the side of the room to observe the third body. The young, or at least, young-looking man’s death had been much messier. At first glance, considering the size of the pool of blood he was laying in, he bled out. He was the source of the blood smell.
The jewelry store wasn’t one of the mega-stores such as might be found in the larger cities. This shop had seventeen display cases in a “U” shape around the walls. Only three of the cases were empty. Four others were very nearly so. Which meant, what? She finally turned to the officer next to the door, asking, “What have we got, Hilsa?”
“Triple homicide, detective. The older couple is Paddrick and Merla Samue. The third body is Rogan Landon. He owned this place.” His voice sounded surprisingly deep coming from his reed-slender body. “Jan is in the backroom, sitting with the witness. The information I have,” he looked at his handheld, “is that approximately twenty-seven minutes ago, two men entered the store. The store had been open for only five minutes. They immediately drew weapons and shot the two customers. Then they demanded the cases be emptied.”
Geena ran her gaze around the store. “What stopped them?”
Hilsa frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Only a few of the cases are empty. Some look like they may have been picked over.”
Hilsa considered the cases. “True. Maybe the witness can shed some light on that. Her name is Tregan Klamin. She was working here at the time of the incident.”
While they spoke her crime-scene tech arrived. She nodded at the woman. “Morning, Technician Agams. I’m going to want the undisturbed cases checked for prints and DNA markers. Not just the empty cases. Also, I know we don’t use them much but bring in a scent analyzer.”
Agams was busy taking in the scene. Almost absently, she said, “Every cop in here has already contaminated any scents.”
Geena nodded. “That’s true. Does the floral smell in here seem a trifle overpowering to you?”
Agams looked thoughtful. “We’ll need to keep everyone else out for an hour or so while the analyzer is running. And of course, I’ll need to test everyone who’s already in here — living and dead.”
Geena said, “Check the medical tech first. He tends to be impatient and is going to want to leave the scene.”
Chapter 3
Crane Samue
Crane Samue sat quietly in the single visitor’s chair in the detective’s office. When he met her at the station’s front desk, he noted she was slightly taller than he was, probably about six-foot-five, slim, and physically fit. Her blonde hair was fashioned in almost a buzz-cut and standing straight up courtesy of some hair-product. His hair was dark and quite a bit longer than hers. Currently, she was typing things on the pad on her desktop, having already scanned his credentials.
After a moment, she looked up, and said, “Paddrick and Merla Samue were your parents?
“Yes.”
Geena nodded. “I am sorry for your loss, Mr. Samue. How can I help you?”
Crane smiled. “I’m hoping I can help you, detective. I want in on your case.”
Geena frowned. “Absolutely not. I can’t think of a worse idea.”
It was the response Crane expected. Time to bring out and dust off his negotiation skill set. “I don’t know what you were entering on your datapad, of course. As my credentials show, I’m licensed as private investigator, pretty much world-wide. My specialty is insurance recoveries. I checked you out, detective. You’re homicide, and to be blunt, relatively inexperienced. Let me help. Those jewels are out there somewhere. I can find them for you. From there,
hopefully you can find the pair who murdered my parents.”
Dammit. Everything he just said is true. Geena had reviewed the man’s record with Universal Underwriters while he waited. He was good at his job. More to the point, Universal Underwriters was the insurer of record for the jewelry store. He was going to be involved in the case whether she cooperated with him or not. He had already been assigned the case despite it being smaller in terms of monetary value than the ones he usually took. He probably requested it. His reason would be personal.
Homicide trumps robbery, she mused, making this case my problem without input from any of the robbery detectives. I know it isn’t unusual for robbery to work with insurance companies. Homicide, as a rule, not so much. She said, “Come with me. Let’s find a conference room.”
After they both got a cup of coffee, Geena pulled up the digital file on the surface of the conference table. She sat back and said, “Help yourself.”