Scott sighed deeply.
“Yes . . . I suppose it could have been one of us as well. Here we are.”
We stopped in front of an antique door. The wood was dark brown with small variations of white and carvings of Celtic knots interweaving throughout one another. Scott nudged me aside and placed what looked to be a keycard on a rectangular tray beside the door. A green light blinked and the door unlocked. I slowly pushed it open.
Body parts were scattered everywhere; scraps and patches of clothing were still attached to some, but most were bare. Arms ripped out of their sockets dangled from the couch and bed. Legs were twisted in shapes they weren’t meant to make. I couldn’t see anything that was a head or chest, but there were piles of blood and gore that could easily be a body part turned inside out.
“You didn’t clear the bodies?” I asked him, nearly choking on bile.
Scott pulled out a tablet and keyed a code. Before I knew it, every body part vanished. I blinked and stepped back.
“We cleared them a few days ago, but we have the ability to scan a crime scene down to every detail, including odors, exactly as it originated.”
“Flux, that’s brilliant,” I said. It really was. The smell actually burned—a mixture of sweat, blood, and death.
I activated the theoretical analysis function of my bionic eye. It scanned over everything. The front door hadn’t been touched except for the doorknob. The walls and windows were sealed shut. None of the furniture in the living area had been used. However, I did find a couple of hair samples on the carpet floor. Unfortunately, the technology that made my eye work wasn’t advanced enough to determine whether the hair was alien, human, or other. I pointed it out to Scott in hopes that his team could identify it.
The room itself was the size of a small cottage—separate rooms for the sleeping area, living room, and kitchen. From the front door, you could branch out to any of the areas from the main hallway. My first focal point, indicated by the amount of energy readings from my eye, was the bedroom, which told a revealing story. The bed’s size was immense, larger than what I would consider a king size. The same Celtic knots on the door were strewn over the woodwork of the headboard. It contained lipstick stains, sweat, and a couple of other human-type fluids. On the side of the bed that faced the wall sat a shirt, slacks, and a dark purple dress. Except for being a little wrinkled, they looked fine. Another scan revealed various pieces of soft, feather-like cloth that had been shredded and spread throughout the room. I checked the kitchen and the utensils on the counter, but this side of the room looked undisturbed. I disengaged my eye to its normal operation.
“I’m surprised you aren’t more horrified by this,” Scott said softly. “So, what did you find?”
I shrugged. “This fluffy stuff.” I held up the torn piece. “What is it?”
He took it and moved it between his fingers. “It’s a robe. Every room in this complex has one.”
I took a deep breath and tried to clear my thoughts. “You said three people were murdered. Who were they?”
“Two men from Terra—Patrick Keegan and Paul Winters. Then the woman—she’s Ilayna Porter of Gaia. This was Patrick’s room. Paul was next door while Ilayna had a room upstairs.”
“I assume the corpse with the shreds of clothing is Paul?” I asked. Scott nodded. I tried to picture the scene around me as it happened—the shredded clothes, the bare bodies, the fluids, all the while trying to recover the memories of training as a security officer at the academy.
“Did you realize that Ilayna and Patrick were more than just friends?” Scott nodded to me, his eyes intense and watching my every move.
For some reason, this felt more like an audition than an additional investigation. Was he looking to see what I could do? What if he wasn’t satisfied—would he toss me back to the dock and let me be on my way?
If he wanted to play games with me, then so be it. I hesitated coming here in the first place, but felt I owed it to Damon to return him home. But he also knew something. Something about me that could help put a stop to the horror I witnessed. The fact that mercenaries attacked us minutes after I arrived told me the killers were anxious.
I looked over the data one more time, formulated my words carefully, and told Scott my theory.
“The night before the murder, Ilayna and Patrick were intimate; having their own personal peace treaty, you might say. Things heat up, finish, and cool down. Afterward, there’s a knock at the door.”
“Paul?” Scott asked. I shook my head.
“No, not Paul, but someone they knew just as well, maybe better.” I pointed to the door and its peephole at eye level. “The council had to be cautious. Whoever answered the door threw on his or her robe and checked to see who was there. It would have been someone they trusted, because they opened the door. There’s also the fact that whoever this is got past security without any problems.”
“My security team saw nothing out of the ordinary last night, and they patrolled these halls every twenty minutes,” Scott said matter-of-factly.
“Then either the killer was a skilled space ninja or there’s some dirt in your Sentinel staff.”
Scott flinched at that. He didn’t like to hear that his own team might have been involved. I continued.
“I detected no fractures, pressure points, or DNA readings of any kind. The only fingerprints on the door are on the knob. So this person entered the room and the rest was history. Patrick and Ilayna were murdered. I assume that Paul heard the commotion from his room next door and came to investigate.”
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Whoever they are, it would have taken a lot of hate and even more strength to rip these three apart like this. I don’t think any human could have done this.”
“My team considered the same thing. There are some local technologies capable of this, but nothing easily transported. We don’t really get many aliens on Terra, due to a lot of those extremist-type people who like to do nasty things to inhuman creatures. Hell, we have enough trouble not killing other humans, let alone not killing aliens.”
“You can always find an alien willing to do something or go somewhere as long as his price is met . . .”
“What?” Scott asked as he placed his hands against his belt.
I explained the situation that led me here, my run in with Granak on Karth, and the murder of Damon Derringer. The whole while, I thought about the droids on Karth, how they were torn apart much like the people here. In fact, the carnage was eerily similar.
“So, you think this Leondren mercenary killed them?” Scott asked.
That’s exactly what I was thinking. He was more than strong enough to rip the council apart, but I couldn’t believe that he personally knew any of the council members. If I was Patrick and I checked my peephole and saw Granak, I’d have locked the door and backed away.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Granak certainly had the strength to do something like this, but I don’t think he had the time or security access. You said these murders occurred a couple of days ago?”
“Aye. Three days ago to be exact.”
“The timing is narrow since I met Granak on Karth. After he disabled my ship, he turned and jumped away. But would that have left him enough time to get to Terra, bypass Sentinel security, murder three people, and vanish?”
“Either way, he has some part to play in this shithole of a situation.” Scott ran his hand through his hair and released a sigh. “The question is—what the hell do we do now? Do we send the council members home? Do we stop the treaty?”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I said. “Stopping the peace treaty is exactly what the killer or killers want. I wouldn’t send them home, either. Whoever did this, did their homework. They know who the council is and where they’re from, otherwise how would they have gained such easy access in the first place?”
Scott nodded in agreement.
“I think you and I are on the same page—Patrick and Ilayna knew their kille
r. Paul may have known him, too, so we’ll start there. I already have my guys screening friends, family, and anyone they had contact with over the last couple of weeks. It’s going to be a big list, but it’s the best we have. I’ll also make sure this hair sample from the carpet gets processed; might as well give it a shot.”
“Agreed,” I said. “And don’t count out Granak either. Someone or something ripped these bodies apart. Keep a sharp eye on spaceports and any unauthorized landing areas you know of. If he isn’t here yet, he will be soon. I don’t know the specifics of his involvement, but he’s probably getting paid by the killers to be a sharp piece of metal in our sides. The way he talked on Karth . . . his job completed, his attack on my ship—there’s more here than we realize.”
We left the room and walked back to the vehicle. The mob was still there. Their voices cried out for the war to go on, for the Gaians to meet their end. I felt sad for them. Habits are usually hard to break, and these people had the hardest habit of all—the need to feel rage and death. If only they knew it would most likely lead to their own destruction. Humanity always had trouble unifying, even centuries ago. There was always someone who needed to be better than the other, or a group of people willing to fight and kill because of a disagreement. I couldn’t help but suspect that the people outside the shield would get their wish. They would have their war and, in the end, both sides would lose—just like Earth. All our natural resources sucked dry, the human population smothering each other to a point of desperation.
Saving these council members was all that mattered now. I had questioned Damon Derringer’s choice to find me and ask for help, and to be honest, I still did. For some reason he thought I was the guy to help, that one person who could make a difference. But could I? It wouldn’t be the first time I tried to save a planet, but this time I would try to save two.
Something else nagged at me. The carnage was similar to the droids on Karth, but not identical. The droids had numerous claw marks over their metal bodies, but I didn’t detect any scratches on the human body parts. At the same time, Granak was involved somehow; otherwise he wouldn’t have come after Damon and attacked my ship.
The Terrans and Gaians were no doubt blaming this on each other, which would only add fuel to the fire that was their war. Someone wanted this to happen, wanted them to make accusations. Someone wanted to make sure this peace treaty didn’t take place, and from the look and sounds of the mob outside, it could have been any number of people.
Nine
Scott called in to headquarters, letting them know we were bringing samples to analyze. I found myself dozing off a couple of times on the way, though the images of the digital corpses were enough to jolt me awake every couple of minutes.
“Listen, Quinn,” Scott said. “I want to apologize. I wasn’t sure whether I could trust you or not, and I worried that you would only slow me down. I never said thank you for saving us in the stairwell.”
“It’s okay,” I said through a yawn. “I know what you must be thinking. Damon travels across solar systems just to find a beaten down mercenary; what the hell was he thinking?”
“Maybe we’ll both understand it someday. Anyway, I regret my cold shoulder toward you. It just felt like a cruel joke, and this is a bad time for Terra. People are dying right under me, and I’m failing to protect them.”
I watched Scott as we continued through the city. His gaze was intense, nostrils flared, as if he was about to explode. He held a tight grip on the wheel, grinding his gloves against it. You couldn’t cut the tension on his side of the vehicle with the strongest plasma cutter.
“Almost ten years ago,” Scott continued, “I was in charge of a trade agreement between a group of Gaian farmers and Terran scientists. Back then, half of us at least had an understanding that we needed each other to prosper. The two groups met, both with an armed escort. The trade was going smoothly at first, but sometimes when you hold onto so much hate, even if it’s superficial, you act recklessly. My men started antagonizing the Gaian soldiers and eventually words turned into action. Four people died that day because I couldn’t control my men. I failed as the superior officer. Now we’re in the middle of the most important peace treaty in our history, and I can’t protect the council tasked with saving our worlds. And two of my own men are dead.”
I felt bad for him. Living with guilt for ten years must have taken a toll. No wonder he was cold with me during our first meeting. But as I listened to him confide in me, I hoped it would build respect between us, enough so that he could trust me, and I him. Had he talked to anyone else about this? Being in a position like his, who knew how much time he had for friends? But that’s why you need them—to trust and bear some of your life’s weight. Sometimes the hardest step is the first one, and if Scott and I were going to work together to solve this, we had to cross that road together.
“Over a year ago,” I said, “I saved an alien species from being enslaved, but in order to save them, I had to destroy their only source of energy. They had grown dependent on the power and I took that away from them. It would be like knocking humanity back into the Stone Age. I understand that had I not acted, their entire race would have been extinguished or enslaved by a couple of evil assholes, but that doesn’t change the way I feel. It was a no-win situation and even though the aliens are safe, that doesn’t mean they’ll survive.”
“Hmm,” Scott said. We veered left and then right after a mile or two. “I guess we all have to come face to face with a no-win situation don’t we?”
“The point is,” I continued, “that I think I did the right thing, and I’m sure you did all you could when your officers acted against your orders. You’re doing all you can now to protect the council, but you can’t protect everyone, Scott. You might be in charge of hundreds of men, but you yourself are only one man. Don’t let the hatred and rage consume you. I know what that’s like. I’ve lost control before and it’s damn scary, the things you can be capable of.”
“Isn’t that the truth? I just hope General Ambrose isn’t too pissed about what happened at the tower.” Scott chuckled. We smiled softly to each other, not really a release of our tension, but more of an understanding between the two of us. I liked Commander Scott. His presence and personality kept me level-headed in this flux-storm of a situation we were in.
“So this General Ambrose . . . what’s he like?” I asked.
“I don’t envy him the position he’s in, responsible for the peace between planets, trying to organize the fleets into not only a cease-fire, but a merger should the council succeed. But he’s tough, and he will do anything to make sure things get done. He’s a strict son of a bitch. The man knows what he wants and will do anything to make sure it gets done.”
“How does it work? You’re in charge of interplanetary security and he handles everything off-world?”
“In a manner of speaking, he’s the government’s military and defense advisor,” Scott said. “I haven’t seen him much lately because he’s been on Gaia trying to work with their security officers. The council can try to create the peace all they want, but if they don’t have guards that will uphold and protect that goal, then it’s a waste of time.”
“Agreed. So what’s the plan now?” I asked him.
“Once we’re back at headquarters, you will look at the data we’ve collected and find something we couldn’t. With any luck, the boys have also solved how the mercenaries killed the power in the docking tower.”
“After we’re done with that, I want to see the council members.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Scott said.
“Damon Randolph, for whatever reason, appointed me as his replacement. That means I get access to them, no matter what anyone thinks. If I’m going to help protect them and figure out why my name is involved in this, I must get to know the council.”
“Damn you for making a good point,” he grumbled as we rounded a tall, circular building and came within view of the security headquart
ers.
In comparison to all the state-of-the-art skyscrapers surrounding us, the security HQ was noticeably plain. It was a four story, square building with a steel grid wall around the perimeter. A number of weapon turrets were placed on the four corners of the roof and all turned towards us as we entered the compound. Two spotlights from gate-towers illuminated the vehicle, then powered down when it recognized Commander Scott. As he flew us to the ground, I expected the floors to drum, but realized I was only thinking of the Belle. Less than a day and I already missed her.
“Welcome to Terran Sentinel HQ, Quinn.” I retrieved my sword, which had been placed in the back seat of Scott’s vehicle, and we walked into the compound through a large steel door, which opened as we approached. Inside, men and women jogged back and forth. Phones rang, people shouted, and keyboards clacked. A large, curved metal desk separated Scott and me from the rest of the floor. A bulky man in a skin tight uniform watched as we approached. I couldn’t help but wonder if he requested a uniform that tight, or if they just didn’t make any in his size. He didn’t look to be the sort I should piss off.
“Stern,” Scott called out. “Anything to report?”
“Yes, sir,” Stern replied, saluting with an open hand over his chest. “Rose and Barton found the Gaian mercenaries using surveillance footage around the docking tower. It looks like they traveled through the crowd toward the side entrance, where some kind of device was used to bypass the security field.”
I wondered where these mercenaries got their weaponry, with devices that bypass high tech security, shut down electronics throughout the whole building, and melt flesh and metal. Between the Terrans and Gaians, it seemed to me that Terra was more advanced technologically, unless the Gaians were using a third party to acquire their weapons. It would make sense, considering they were using the Starcade for business transactions.
“Try and find out how the Gaian bastards are getting hold of their technology,” Scott said, “and open up a secure communications line to the council. Also, have forensics analyze these hair samples and compare them to any previous findings.”
Antagonize (From the Logs of Daniel Quinn Book 2) Page 8