by Sean Parsons
“You have to let go,” Erin said.
“Yeah, right,” the gunman said, below him. His hands were like a vice on Erin’s ankle. “And fall to my death? In your dreams, cop.”
“I can’t hold us both,” Erin said. “If I die, the investigation is over and this station is finished.”
“I don’t think Grossman or any of the others care about your little investigation, pal.”
“It’s not about that. Sledgehammer is going to take over tonight. He’s got a thousand people with weapons. The only way to stop him is to solve the case and try to reason with him.”
The man was silent. He struggled for a better grip. “You’re telling the truth?”
“Of course.”
“So we’re screwed either way. There’s no way you’re going to solve that case. He’s going to kill everyone on board.”
“Tell me who hired you. It’s my only chance.”
The gunman swung there, over the boiling vat, and he seemed to consider his fate.
“Fine,” he said. “It was Rickard.”
“The security head?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
Erin swore loudly, and the gunman laughed.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming?” he said.
“Look,” Erin said, forcing the issue out of his mind, “we have to cooperate to get out of this. Your gun is gone anyway, so you might as well give up trying to kill me and help me save us both.”
“What’s your plan?”
“Use me to climb up. I’ll hold on. When you reach the top, help me get up; I probably won’t have the strength to do it myself.”
“Alright.”
The gunman started to climb up Erin’s body, using his clothing and limbs as handholds. He was strong, and able to do it using only his hands. Erin’s hands and arms were burning, and his face was lined with sweat, grimacing in pain. The gunman reached his shoulders, and climbed past his head. Then his hand found the railing, and he hauled himself up onto the walkway.
“Good, now get me up,” Erin said, his strength at its limit.
“Not a chance,” the gunman said. “You had to at least see this coming. I won’t kill you today. I don’t need to anyway; that idiot Rickard paid in advance. If you make it up alive, don’t bother coming for me – I won’t be here. I’m leaving this shithole right now. Good luck, my friend.”
He ran along the walkway to the stairs, and Erin lost sight of him.
Erin hung there, desperately clinging on, his fingers slipping in the sweat and steam. He had a lead at last, but it looked like he would never get to follow it. He heard the door to the recycling room clang shut. He tried to haul himself up, but after hanging for so long with the weight of another man’s body on him as well as his own, his arms wouldn’t respond. It was all he could do to not let go. His shoulder wound felt like it had torn open.
Then he heard the door to the room open and shut again. He wondered if Rickard’s gunman had changed his mind and come back to finish the job. He heard footsteps running across the steel floor and up the stairs. They pounded along the grates of the walkway.
Then he saw Rachel’s face, looking down at him.
“Erin,” she said.
“Rachel, help.”
She grabbed his jacket and pulled with all her might. She wasn’t particularly strong, but she put the whole weight of her body into it. It was enough for Erin to unlock his fatigued arms and pull himself over the railing. Rachel kept pulling and the two of them landed sprawling onto the walkway. Erin lay there panting, and Rachel crawled over to him.
“Erin,” she said, “You’re alive. I was so worried.”
“Thanks to you,” he said, smiling. “I was going to drown in boiling shit, if you hadn’t come up when you did. What are you doing here?”
“I was looking for you. Grossman’s office said you were in the furnace room with Doctor Cho, but I couldn’t find either of you. The people in the office said they last saw you go into the maintenance hall. So I went looking for you. A man pushed past me in the hall and said, ‘He’s in there, doll face’. I knew he was talking about you, somehow.”
“He called you doll face? Jeez, what an asshole.”
She smiled. “I’m glad you’re ok.”
“Me too,” he said, getting up with difficulty. He was sore all over.
Suddenly, he remembered the gunman and he started to run down the walkway.
“Where are you going?” Rachel called after him.
“I have to get that guy,” Erin said. “He has information I need.”
Besides, it was his job to catch a would-be cop-killer.
Erin took the stairs two at a time, narrowly avoiding a broken ankle. He hit the floor of the recycling plant running, and reached the door and the hallway quickly. It was empty. He ran along it and opened the door into the furnace room. The room was blisteringly hot, as always, but deserted. There weren’t even any workers to be seen.
Where the hell were they all?
He saw people in the office, so he went over and entered the airlock. The faces turned towards him when he entered. It was the usual office crowd, and the workers from the furnace room. They were sitting around eating sandwiches and drinking soda. They seemed to be on a break.
The office worker who had spoken to Erin earlier looked over at him. “Can we help you, detective?”
“Did you see anyone go into the maintenance hallway about five minutes ago?”
The worker shook his head. “No sir, we’ve been on our break for ten minutes; since Doctor Cho left, and you went in there yourself.”
“Is this the time you usually take your break?” Erin said.
He seemed taken aback by that. “We take it when we choose, detective. We decided to take it together, now.”
The others nodded, confirming this.
“Fine,” Erin said, and left without another word.
Rachel was coming out of the maintenance hallway and saw him. She came over to him and said something, but the noise of the furnaces obliterated her words. Erin shook his head and gestured to the elevator.
They walked over to it and got in, and Erin punched the button for the 55th floor where his hotel room was. As they rode up in silence, Rachel looked him over.
“Are you alright?” she said. “You look a little shaken up.”
“I am,” Erin said. “That guy’s been trying to kill me for some time. He’s the one who shot me.”
He indicated his wounded shoulder.
“Oh, I see,” Rachel said.
“Yeah. He knew where to find me every time, and this time it was above the sublevels, where there should be more security. All the furnace room workers were on a break at the exact time he came in, and Doctor Cho got called away on an emergency. He was also the one who suggested I check out the air con and recycling rooms.”
Rachel stared, wide-eyed. “You don’t mean he was involved?”
“Unfortunately, it looks like it. I liked the good doctor. It’s a damn shame. But there’s more. The guy – the gunman – he told me he was working for Rickard.”
Rachel was shocked. “What?”
“Yes. Told me he was paid to kill me, by Rickard himself. It seems the management is rotten around here.”
“That’s unbelievable,” Rachel said. “I don’t know what to say. Do you really think they’re trying to kill you? Why would they do that?”
“There’s something fishy about Susan’s death. It was more than just a message from a drug gang. I met Sledgehammer, by the way. Charming fellow.”
Rachel smiled. “He’s quite a character, isn’t he? He was different back then, when we were together. But what are you saying about Susan and the others? What’s going on?”
“I’m starting to believe that the management was somehow involved. Maybe not all of them, but some of them. It might have been orchestrated to get the old director, Grior, out of office. I don’t really know. My only lead at this point is that the gunman
told me he was working for Rickard. I have to do a little checking up on old Bob, see if he has any skeletons in his closet.”
“Be careful,” Rachel said. “Rickard’s a strange man. I’ve never felt comfortable around him. He seems – dangerous.”
“Exactly what I thought. There’s another thing, too. You have to be off the station before 6pm tonight.”
“Why?”
“Your ex-boyfriend is going to come up from the sublevels with a thousand soldiers and take over. Grossman and his gang are finished, as of tonight.”
She was speechless, so he went on.
“There’s nothing I can do. If I contact Earth, he’ll only start the revolt sooner. They’ll have the station under their control before any Earth forces can get here, and they’ll have leverage in the form of a hundred thousand hostages. I have no choice but to do what Sledgehammer told me and wrap up the investigation before 6pm. Then I’m getting out of here, and I’d like you to come with me.”
Rachel was silent for a moment, taking this all in. She ran a hand through her brown hair. “John wouldn’t hurt anyone, if he could avoid it. I know him well enough to say that. But he will do this, if he’s said he’s going to. Nothing will stop him now.”
She sighed, and blinked back tears. “I should have seen this coming. I told you at dinner, this whole station is a mess. It was a failure from the start. And now this. I’ll leave with you, but I want to help you solve the case first. For Susan.”
“Thanks,” Erin said. “I need all the help I can get. First things first, I need to know everything I can about Rickard. I have to have some angle of attack, something I can use against him.”
“See Diane,” Rachel said. “She knows everything about everyone in the administration. It’s part of her job. And we can trust her, I’m sure of it.”
“You’re sure?” Erin said, giving her a long look. “If she squeals on us to Grossman, we’ve both had it.”
“I’m sure,” Rachel said, nodding. “I’ve known Diane for years. All she cares about is her work. She’s dedicated. She won’t be taken in by Grossman or Rickard.”
Erin flexed his wounded shoulder. It hurt like hell.
“Ok,” he said. “I guess we have no choice.”
12.
Erin and Rachel got off on the 55th floor, and walked to Erin’s hotel room.
“I need a drink first,” Erin said. “Then I’m going over to see Diane.”
“I’ll stay with you, for now,” Rachel said.
Erin swiped his security card and the door hissed open. He had his hand on his gun, just in case. He went in and had a look around. The room was empty. Rachel followed him in and went to the kitchenette, while he went to the bathroom and checked his shoulder. The wound was still raw, but the stitches held nicely. It hadn’t opened up when he was hanging from the walkway.
“What do you want to drink?” Rachel called from the kitchen.
“There’s a bottle of whiskey in there somewhere,” Erin called back. “If you pour me a glass of that with a lot of ice, I’ll love you forever.”
She laughed and he heard the sound of glasses being taken out of the cupboard, and the refrigerator opening and closing.
When he came back in she was standing there with a glass in each hand. She looked beautiful. Her dark brown hair was tied up in a bun, and framed her brown skin perfectly. Her dark eyes surveyed him, calmly. He looked at her pale pink lips. He longed to grab her and kiss her, and forget the whole damn case.
But he saw the tension in the corners of her eyes and mouth. The strain on her brow. They were both in the middle of the vice, and they could feel it closing on them.
She handed Erin the drink and he thanked her. He said nothing for a minute, only sipped from the glass and felt the soothing burn go down his throat and warm his stomach. He immediately felt a slight easing in his shoulders, and behind his eyes. He sighed.
“This might go a lot deeper than I thought,” he said.
Rachel drank from her glass. He noticed now that it held only water. “Do you really think Rickard or Grossman were involved in Susan’s death, and the attempts on your life?”
“I’m sure of it, I just don’t know if Rickard was working alone or under orders. And I don’t know the motive for Susan’s murder. I only assume it was some sort of power play.”
Rachel’s face grew dark. “A power play? Who could do such a thing? She was an intelligent, dedicated woman.”
“Men like that don’t care,” Erin said, flatly. “They only look out for number one.”
It struck him that Sledgehammer had said that about Grossman, and he was repeating it now as though he believed it himself.
He went over and sat on the edge of the bed, and finished his drink. Rachel stood looking at him, her hip against the counter. She was wearing a black skirt, and a black blouse. She sat her drink gently on the countertop.
“I’m going to call Diane,” she said. “You rest for a minute.”
She went to the phone, which hung by the door. She picked it up and dialled.
After a minute, she said, “Hello, Diane? It’s Rachel.”
The rest of the conversation was lost to Erin. He was badly in need of sleep. His mind drifted, replaying everything that had happened to him since he had come to the station. But there was no meaning to any of it, just a swirl of images, and faces. Only one face kept returning: Susan, in the morgue, dead.
He shook his head, threw back the glass and downed the rest of the whiskey.
Rachel hung up the phone and came back to him. “Diane says she’ll see you. She’s in her office. I think she knows something serious is happening. She’ll help us, I’m sure of it.”
“Ok,” Erin said, bracing himself and standing up. His legs were fatigued and weak, but the booze had soothed the ache in his head and shoulder. “Ok.”
Rachel came over to him and put a hand on his good shoulder. “Are you sure you’re ok? You are wounded, and you’ve had little rest since you got here.”
“Neither have you,” Erin said, smiling. “You were with me in the hospital. How much sleep have you had since Susan’s death?”
Rachel shook her head slowly. “Practically none. I can’t sleep. Not until this is over.”
Erin nodded. “Then we’re agreed. We won’t rest until this is over, and we can get off Eden and get a hotel room in New York.”
She smiled a little. “Is that supposed to be an invitation?”
“You’ll have to forgive me,” Erin said, “I’m not at my best. Are you coming with me to see Diane?”
“No, I have work to do. The staff need my help, even now. Will you be alright on your own? With your shoulder, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Erin said, “I’ll be fine. You go back to work and I’ll come see you if there’s any development. But, Rachel – take care of yourself. Rickard and the others, they’ll know you’ve been working with me.”
“I’ll be alright,” she said. “If any of those bastards tries to touch me, I’ll kill them. For Susan.”
He smiled. “Good, that’s what I like to hear.”
They left the room and Rachel said goodbye, and he watched her leave.
Then he took a deep breath, and brought his mind back to the job.
Erin was on his way up to Diane’s office when he got a page saying he had a phone call. He found the nearest wall unit and picked up. The station operator connected him.
“Detective Bradley?”
It was Grossman’s voice.
“Yes,” Erin said.
“Oh good,” Grossman said, “I’m glad I reached you. I wanted to let you know, Mark Offenheimer has finally agreed to meet with you. He wants to offer his thoughts on the case and any information you might need from him.”
It took Erin a moment to recall who Mark Offenheimer was. Then he remembered.
“The captain wants to see me?”
“That’s right. Do you have fifteen minutes or so?”
Erin checked his wat
ch. 11:00am. He stared at the glowing dial, stunned at how quickly time was getting away from him. 6pm was approaching, and the end of everything Grossman had taken for granted.
“Yeah,” he said, “but it’ll have to wait until midday, or thereabouts. I have a meeting.”
“Ok,” Grossman said. “At midday come up to the flight deck and I’ll meet you there.”
He sounded chipper again. Gone was the hostility he had had when Erin went down to the sublevels. Erin declined to mention the recycling room, and Rickard’s name.
He said goodbye and hung up. Grossman was playing it cool, if he was involved. Erin wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe the guy was slimy enough, but he lacked intelligence. Erin focused on Rickard, the menacing security officer, who had been hostile right from the start. He had to find out everything he could about the guy.
Diane was in her office, seated at her desk, the same as the day before. She smiled when she saw him.
“Detective. Good to see you. Rachel called me and said you wanted to talk?”
Erin took the seat in front of her desk. “Yes. I have a few questions, and I wanted to ask them in person.”
“Fire away.”
“You handle the psych tests for all the staff, right?”
“Yes, I do. As I told you yesterday, we do weekly assessments of all the staff, usually just an interview.”
“Do you test the security personnel?”
“They are vetted before they are hired. But otherwise, no. Only Bob Rickard is subject to those tests, as he’s in the senior position.”
“Good,” Erin said. “It’s Rickard that I’m here to talk about. How long has he worked here?”
“Five years, maybe more. I’d have to check the records. But at least five years.”
“So he was here during the riots?”
“Yes.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
“What was his reaction to them, during his interview with you?”
“He was angry,” she said, shrugging, “What you might expect. He wanted to do more, but Director Grior was reluctant to take extreme action. I agreed with him, at the time.”