by K. C. Sivils
Indifferent to Sarah’s cool response, the Corona turned to walk down the corridor. “This way, if you would,” the Warden asked, looking over his shoulder. “We’ll get you settled in so you can get started.”
The greeting left me undecided if the man could be trusted.
SITTING IN HIS CELL, Dmitry felt unsettled. He was fairly confident the other kings had been truthful with him about not sanctioning the hits. Warden Gravestone, on the other hand, he had serious misgivings about her.
She'd arrived just under three years ago, and Warden Corona had installed the woman as his representative on the Council of Kings, representing the prison’s interests and the Lost.
He couldn’t demand she be removed because of any single particular action. The lone Queen, whose presence Dmitry resented as a matter of principle, was arrogant, at times condescending in ways that went beyond the boundaries of warden and convict relations. To make matters worse, Dmitry couldn’t shake the feeling the Queen was part of something nefarious, something outside the prison itself. The Russian had no way to prove how he felt and today’s meeting had only furthered his suspicions. Gravestone was too unconcerned about the death of the screw Evans. She might sit on the Council as a Queen, but she was still a warden, the well being of the screws was a major part of her job.
No action would be taken immediately, and he'd made certain no action would be taken without another meeting of the Council. Dmitry had made it clear cooperation with this Inspector was expected. Jamaal had agreed but insisted cons could resist initially before cooperating.
“Won’t do us no good come some future shakedown if we make things too easy this go round. You gotta let us make ‘em work a little Dmitry, you gotta.”
Jamaal made a good point. The current situation would pass, and then the normal status quo relationships would return.
Still, Dmitry insisted on cooperation.
“We’re on a deadline,” he reminded everyone. “There’s no moving things around on this. We need to know who did this. If this Inspector can do that, so be it. But we also need to get things back to normal before the event.”
So much was riding on that one day.
PARKING HIS HOVERCAR, Markeson got out, set his perimeter alarm security system to repel and began walking towards the flashing lights in the distance. He had a lot to think about and not a lot of time to do so. Not the amount of time he normally would like to have had.
He needed a few hours in the new trendy Neon District to relax, clear his mind with a few simple pleasures. Calculate the odds, the risks and whether or not his mystery host was telling the truth about the potential rewards.
The upside for him was obvious and considerable. Money, power, respect and eventually, if things worked as promised, a world of his own to rule. The downside, besides the obvious of getting caught and imprisoned, was it was all too good to be true.
Markeson believed he was better than the average person. But he was self-aware enough to know the so-called ruling class would not see him that way. No, to them he would be a useful tool, a means to an end. Should the time come that his usefulness expired, he would be disposed of like a piece of rotten garbage that smelled.
Still, the idea intrigued him. The ruling elite. Life in that particular class would be quite enjoyable. Much more exciting than the life he led now. His schemes, though lucrative, were small time in comparison to the opportunities that would be available.
His mystery host had not balked when Markeson had responded to the request for time to think things over. It seemed as if the man had in fact been pleased as if Markeson's request had proven some point the man had made to others.
Pausing to look around, Markeson decided on a new trendy bar, complete with brilliant flashing neon lights declaring the bar to be Rick’s Café American. He liked the reference in homage to a classic vid. It was why he’d lowered the rate for protection for the bar’s owner.
Walking past the growing line waiting in the cold, Markeson waived to the bouncers as he entered the bar. Standing just inside the entrance, the bent Chief of Detectives took in the selection thus far for the evening. Spotting a cute brunette, Markeson ran his hand through his in preparation to introducing himself.
I LOOKED AT MY ASSEMBLED group. Bones had left to begin the autopsies on the victims. Sarah sat quietly on the bunk she had claimed for herself. I was a bit surprised by her choice. Warden Corona had opened the door to the guest dormitory for males, which was completely vacant. Sarah had given the man a hard look and set her backpack and gear on the bunk to the left of the entrance and in the corner.
“I’ll sleep here,” she announced.
Corona had frowned before informing Sarah there was a dormitory for female visitors. Her response was silence, ignoring the man. I sensed something was amiss. Sarah needed her space on an average day. Being confined in a prison had to be stressing her. Being shut in with the males in the group would only heighten her anxiety and need to wander free and unrestrained.
“It’s okay, Warden,” I told the man in a firm voice.
An odd glance was my reward.
“It’s not what you think,” I pointed out in a low voice; filled with just enough menace the man would get my drift.
"It's against regulations, but I guess it will be okay. I'll let you settle in. When I get back, I'll take you to eat and then you can look at the crime scenes, maybe have a tour of the prison if you think that would be helpful. It will be a few hours before I can return, so make yourself comfortable."
Sarah watched Corona leave before setting down on the military style cot and moving her things to the floor. She lay down and turned her back to everyone, signaling a desire to be left alone.
I replayed the video of the exchange again, watching Sarah with my normal eye. I was certain something was wrong.
I walked over to the bunk next to Sarah’s and sat down. Whether she wanted to discuss the matter or not, we were going to have a talk.
“What’s bothering you?”
"He's hiding something, and it scares me," Sarah whispered.
“Is this your sixth sense telling you this?”
She nodded in silence. I left it alone. I didn't understand how or why Sarah got these premonitions, but I'd learned just to accept it. She couldn't explain it, so there was no point in tormenting her about it.
“He gives me the creeps too, Sully. I don’t like the way he looks at me.” Sarah turned her head to look over her shoulder at me. “It’s not the way men look at me, you know? Like they want me, or something. It’s just, creepy, the way he looks at me.”
I nodded and touched her gently on her shoulder before standing. Sarah's brown eyes seemed to get bigger, hopeful somehow. For a brief second, a tiny smile appeared on her face before she turned back to stare at the wall in silence.
There was more going on in Graham than just a pair of murders.
TURNING ON HIS PORTABLE recording system, Bones visually examined the remains of Corrections Officer Marcus Evans. Finding no apparent trauma to the body, he pulled down his optical visor and began examining the body inch by inch under his variable magnifying lens. It wasn't until he looked in C.O. Evans mouth that he noticed anything strange.
Three hours later Bones closed up the Y-incision in Evans' chest. He glanced around to make certain he was alone. The small black dome in the morgue was the source of his silence the last two hours of the autopsy. He'd go back and overdub his findings from memory later when he was somewhere safe.
Gently he rolled Evans body back into its refrigerated vault. Moving to the next victim, Bones pulled the remains of Irina Chekov out. His visual examination went quickly as did the internal examination. He finished the exam in just over two hours.
Bones planned to speak to Sully and then leave for Beta Prime on the first shuttle off the moon.
Something was wrong, and he hoped Sully and the others would be able to find out what without ending up like the pair he'd just examined.
I DO
N’T LIKE HIM. HE’S suspicious. Since when does a Medical Examiner turn off his audio recording when doing an autopsy? That’s not correct protocol.
As Bones left the morgue, the prison camera system followed him as he walked up to the guard’s station. The audio picked up as Bones asked for directions to the cafeteria. One of the three Correctional Officers on duty left to walk the aging Earth African to the cafeteria, asking how everything was going and if he’d figured out how Evans had died.
Unable to hear the response from Bones, the cameras switched ahead to the entrance to the cafeteria. Waiting at a table was the rest of the group. The examiner approached his companions, thanked the guard and joined the team as they moved to enter the line to obtain their meal.
Frustrated the audio in the employee cafeteria did not allow for eavesdropping on employee conversations, the A.I. moved on and returned to its regular duties. It watched with a single camera, hoping it would be able to analyze the video later and use its facial recognition software to read the groups lips.
I SAT DOWN AND WAITED for Bones to sit across from me. He was the last to join us. Before I could get a word out Father Nathan felt compelled to pray aloud over our food and ask for a lot of other things all in one prayer. I noticed Bones even lowered his head as did Sarah and Josephson.
“Since when did you become religious?”
“Since I got here. I’m not taking any chances. Now lower your head, Sully. Look straight down at your plate.”
“Bones, what has gotten into you?”
“Just do it. There are cameras everywhere. If they have an IT guy worth anything they’ll be able to use the facial recognition system to read our lips and get the gist of what we’re talking about.”
“You’re paranoid old man.”
“You weren’t in the morgue listening to the remote cameras servos constantly adjusting and filming and recording everything I said and did. Now, either do as I say or I’m not saying another word. You can wait until you return to Capital City to get my report. I’m leaving on the next shuttle.”
Bones was losing his mind. Granted, prisons gave people the creeps. They certainly weren’t high on my list of places to visit. But even for the eccentric Medical Examiner, this behavior was bizarre.
“Fine,” I groused, lowering my gaze to my tray.
“Here are the basics of what you need to know. Evans was electrocuted. Through his eyes. My guess is the retinal identification system in the secure entrances to the higher security levels. The ones with a double door and a passage way to gas the prisoners if there’s a problem.”
I dropped my fork and looked up at Bones in surprise.
“Eyes down and pick up your fork,” he hissed. “The woman was heavily augmented. Serious IT upgrades. From the angle of the stab wound, it was self-inflicted and precise.”
“Why would someone kill themselves like that,” I asked. “Stabbing yourself in the kidney is not the easiest way to kill yourself. Why not the wrists or the femoral artery?”
"Precisely because it looks like murder," was Bones tense response. "Without my equipment at the lab, I can't access her augmentations. I would be my retirement this Chekov killed herself in response to a programmed command. Her brain might not have been able to identify it as a software generated command or, even if she was able to, she might not have been able to override it."
I thought about this for a bit.
“You’re basing this on the angle of the stab wound and the fact this woman was heavily augmented?”
“Yes.”
"That's a bit far-fetched, you think Bones?"
"Says the Inspector with a cybernetic eye, a clone for one of his team members and another team member with a cybernetic hip replacement. Did I mention that computer you have implanted as well?"
I chewed on my food for a minute.
“Make me believe Bones.”
“The angle of the knife wound was exactly the angle, and the only angle possible, for Chekov to have stabbed herself in the exact spot to cause the damage she did. It ensured she would bleed out before help could arrive. It is also one of the preferred ways inmates attack, from behind for the element of surprise and less likelihood of getting hurt in the assault. This is supposed to look like an impossible murder."
“So you’re telling me, somebody sent a command through Chekov’s augmentation and all that computer hardware she has built in caused her to shank herself?”
"That's exactly what I'm telling you, Sully. Something sinister is going on. Who ever did this, these two murders, is a master of using computers.”
I WALKED IN COMPLETE silence back to our temporary quarters. We’d received a message the Warden asking us to wait in the dormitory. A guide with our credentials giving us access to the entire prison would be coming to give us a tour.
I had to find a way to warn Sarah and Josephson about Bones crazy suspicions of us being watched. It made sense in a way. If I were the warden, I'd want to know what we were getting into.
Father Nathan had left with Bones to escort him back to the facility’s tiny spaceport. There was a shuttle leaving within the hour and Bones was not going to miss the flight if he had anything to say about it.
Josephson was the first to enter the living quarters and flopped on his bunk, staring straight up at the ceiling. Sarah moved to her bunk and picked up her backpack. I picked up the case of equipment she’d carried and stored with her backpack.
“I need this,” I said firmly, getting an odd look in response. The case contained the few pieces of equipment Sarah was responsible for when we examined a crime scene.
"Bones thinks we are being surveilled through the camera system," I whispered. "Try to hide your face from the cameras so your lips can't be read."
Sarah looked at me without the first hint of surprise, nodding her head ever so slightly in the affirmative.
“What do you need Inspector? I thought it was my job now to take images to supplement those Josephson takes? I only have my camera and numbered orange crime scene tags along with extra evidence bags.”
“You’re right,” I said in my regular voice. “Guess I’m just tired. It’s been a long, long day. I’m going to try to get some rest till our guide gets here. Do the same.”
I didn’t have to tell Sarah twice. Josephson was already asleep when I dimmed the lights. I sat on my bunk and took a good look around the room, taking note of everything, and it's location. A quick glance at Sarah and I knew she was doing the same through the one eye she had slightly open.
I doubted she’d sleep again until we returned to Capital City.
FATHER NATHAN WAVED at the guards as they checked Bones in the standard pre-boarding security check.
“How has the Inspector been doing these days?”
“Better, Bones,” Father Nathan whispered as they followed the Warden. “He still has days where the black dog barks, but better.”
“I think the young Miss Sarah has had a positive effect on him. You as well, Father,” Bones added quickly.
“It is good to have others to concern yourself with,” Father Nathan responded. “Gives you a reason to get up. Service to others is one of God’s greatest gifts.”
"Keep an eye on them, Father."
“I always do, Bones, I always do.”
“No, seriously, Father. Something I can’t put my finger on is going on here. Make sure Sarah knows. Sully is too objective at times. If it’s not his hunch, he won’t listen. Sarah is more intuitive.”
Watching the Earth African man irritably push the guard’s hands away from his cases of equipment and open them himself for inspection, Father Nathan experienced the odd feeling of wishing he was going back to Capital City with Bones.
CHAPTER SEVEN
NO MORE THAN TEN MINUTES passed than the guard Warden Corona had sent to give us a tour showed up. I could have used a couple of hours of sleep, but time was passing quickly and the crime scenes growing colder by the minute. We'd been stalled long enough. It had b
een thirty-six hours since the first report of the murders.
I distributed the barcoded ID cards that would grant us access to where we needed to go. Everyone hung the ID around his or her necks using the lanyard attached. I introduced everyone, and the guard motioned for us to follow.
We approached the main entrance on the ground level and two more guards approached with wands in their hands.
“Sorry, Inspector. We have to search you.”
I glanced at my partners to indicate they should cooperate. Josephson looked indifferent. Sarah looked like she was ready to run. Extending my arms up from my sides to set an example, the beefier of the two guards moved his wand up and down, eliciting an angry buzzing sound.
“Sorry, Inspector. You can’t carry inside Graham.”
I just looked at the hapless man.
“Say’s who?”
"Ugh, sir, it's regulations."
“They don’t apply to me.”
“Sir, we can’t allow the cons to get their hands on weapons.”
"Corrections Officer," I squinted a bit to read his nametag, "Boudreaux, I don't work for the prison system. I'm an Inspector for the Alliance Police force. Different rules. You have two murders I’ve been called in to investigate. By the Warden.”
The C.O. protested, his face turning red. “Sir, we can’t take a chance of the cons getting their hands on your side arms.”
“Like they don’t have weapons aplenty already,” I sneered, taking an intimidating step forward towards the guards.