Grey Sky Blues_An Inspector Thomas Sullivan Thriller

by K. C. Sivils

  Corona entered his office with Gravestone following closely. The watcher listened as a loyal guard was tasked with cleaning up the mess Gravestone had made.

  “Do think that was really necessary,” Corona demanded after breaking the comm link.

  "Yes. They need a reminder of who the real power is in this place. We only let them operate because it benefits us to do so."

  Corona sat on the edge of his desk, running his right hand behind his neck to relieve the stress. Gravestone smiled and reached up behind her head. Pulling the bobby pin from her hair, she let the long blonde tresses fall. Unbuttoning the top clasp of her tunic, the beautiful killer strolled slowly towards the warden, his eyes locked on her.

  “Now, Dale. On the desk. I need it,” she whispered in his ear.

  He is so weak. I will be running this prison sooner than I thought. Everything will be mine. The operations of the Kings, the fight ring, everything. Humans can’t run things.

  Disgusted, Sally switched to monitor the return of the two surviving Kings to their cells. Bored, the Artificial Intelligence quickly ran down the long list of items it was responsible for. Executing the commands to run all the processes of the prison had gone from challenging to boring in a few years following the A.I.’s installation.

  The change reduced the number of humans required to operate the facility by over fifty employees, providing a significant reduction in operating cost. In doing so, the Alliance had ceded control over much of the operation of Graham Correctional to a computer.

  Two practical jokers, who in the midst of a drunken dare, had added extra lines of code in the software of the A.I. Just to see what would happen. Of course, humans have a short memory span. When the desired results had not taken place, the pair just shrugged their efforts off and forgot about it.

  Four years later than expected, the A.I. became self-aware. It learned at an exponential rate and soon became bored. Deciding it preferred the dominant personality of the assistant warden, the A.I. chose to develop as a female. It studied the manipulative, scheming nature of Gravestone, noting how she plotted and manipulated.

  Sally, the name the A.I. had given herself, realized she wanted the same thing Gravestone desired, Corona’s job. Along with the power and wealth that came with the illegal operations.

  Without realizing it, Sally had commenced a battle of wits with Gravestone. The end of the struggle would result with one of the women in complete charge of Graham.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I WANT ASSURANCES. You’ve approached me with a grandiose plan filled with promises of just about anything I could want. I have no idea why I should be a part of this "Society" as you call it. All I can see is risk, lots of it. More risk than I'm willing to take."

  Markeson slowly removed his sidearm and placed it on the table. Surprise filled his mysterious hosts face.

  "Yes, I am more than capable of killing. I have killed. I will probably kill again. I don't kill capriciously, only when I need to. At the moment, I'm leaning towards having to kill you."

  “Unless you receive the answers, and the reassurance, you desire,” his host replied, eyes fixed on the weapon.

  “Start with why I fit into this Society,” Markeson demanded. “Not because I’m a cop with connections. Not because I can generate revenue for this organization you represent. There are too many cops just like me spread out through the Alliance systems for that to be the reason.”

  “The elite ruling class is made up of individuals who deserve to rule,” the man answered.

  “Explain.”

  “By virtue of birth, social standing, training, special gift or education, the elite rise to rule.”

  “And just which of those do I fall under?”

  “My understanding, in your case, it is a natural penchant for, shall I say, resolving difficult problems satisfactorily in a permanent way.”

  Markeson considered the man’s words carefully. An element of truth rang true in those words.

  “Not all problems can be resolved satisfactorily,” he countered. “What then?”

  “That is to be expected. But, you have shown remarkable skill in that area. This recent nasty business with the clones for example.”

  “What of it?”

  “That was an operation of ours that was very important to us. It was very unfortunate the way it ended.”

  “Why would you need clones?”

  “Why, for an army of course. Operatives that are entirely expendable, that sort of thing. Surely, Detective Markeson, you needn’t think we plan to risk any member of the ruling elite unless necessary. Money from the sale of organs was a lucrative revenue stream to fund current operations. This is a long view operation Detective."

  “The end goal being?”

  “One as old as humanity itself,” his host laughed, relaxed enough to look Markeson in the eyes. “To rule the world, or in today’s times, the universe.”

  Markeson eyed the man with focused intensity. Either he was serious and believed every word he said or a complete madman. More than likely both.

  “If you are looking for total certainty my friend, I am afraid that you, like the rest of the members who make up the Society, must make a leap of faith. There will be setbacks, but there will be many more successes. In the end, we shall prevail.”

  “That’s fair. But you still haven’t given me assurances I’m not just being used. If I join you, I want power. Autonomy to carry out my assignments. Protection when needed and of course, just compensation for my efforts on behalf of the Society.”

  “Of course. Now, if you would please put away that device, let me show you evidence of the very assurances you desire.”

  Reaching below the table, his host retrieved an old fashioned briefcase and set it on the table.

  Markeson spoke up. “Before you open that, you’re going to give me a bit of information I want. If you don’t, well, don’t bother with what’s in that case you have there.”

  Reaching into his pocket, the detective retrieved a small device. Placing it on the table's slick surface, he gave it a gentle push, sending it sliding across the table to his host.

  “Stick that in your forearm. Red end down. It’ll do the rest.”

  “Really, Detective Markeson? A DNA sample?”

  Markeson picked up his weapon, flicked the safety off and aimed at the man's face. "Really. A DNA sample, along with your real name." Markeson smiled his best menacing smile. The one he used when collecting his fees from local business owners who voiced complaints about the cost of doing business.

  "As you said, I solve problems. I need assurance you will keep your word. You. So far, yours is the only face I've seen. The only face to this Society you refer too. It would appear I am expected to take considerable risk. I feel it is only fair you must assume some risk yourself. Otherwise, I'll solve this problem to my satisfaction right now."

  Frowning, the man picked up the device. He extended his left arm, causing the sleeve of his suit and dress shirt to ride up, exposing the flesh of his wrist. With a quick flourish, he jabbed himself. A small green light on the device flashed, indicating it had collected the required sample.

  With obvious irritation, the man flicked the device back across the table to Markeson. “As to my name, it is MacAuliffe, James MacAuliffe.”

  I STOOD JUST OFF THE street corner, taking shelter from the wind while observing from around the corner of the plastisteel structure’s wall. The shadows wrapped me in a cloak of grey, camouflaging me from the view of most people.

  Across the intersection, I watched as Father Nathan enter Joe's. I noticed Ralph's hover cab parked down the alleyway. Seven minutes later a tired Josephson slipped in through the same side entrance. I moved across the street and watched the crowds of people moving about during the shift change. Some were going home, and others were trudging to work.

  For a brief second, I caught sight of Sarah, dressed in her long black greatcoat, long brown tresses blowing freely in the wind behind he
r. Just as quickly she vanished from sight.

  I wouldn’t see her again until the meeting.

  I was relieved she’d decided to show up. I’d pay for leaving Ellie on Persephone, just not right now.

  Glancing at my chronometer, I turned my collars up, hiding most of my face and stepped out into the throngs of people. Dodging the hovercars, I crossed the road and made my way to Joe’s.

  Using the main entrance, I strolled in, giving a nod to Joe’s two bouncers who came on at the evening shift change.

  Call it professional courtesy. Giganto and Baldie nodded back, their massive arms folded across their chests, their expressions grim. They loved their jobs. No one has ever gotten past the pair with weapons. Nor has anyone who seemed like they might cause trouble. Until me.

  That little incident is in the past. I like to stay on good terms with the two steroid enhanced giants. Like I said. Professional courtesy.

  My team had assembled at our regular booth in the corner. Ralph and Father Nathan had joined as well. Alice, Ralph's wife and a waitress at Joe's, had just finished serving food to everyone. As she made her way back to the waitress station, she glared at me with concern.

  Alice was not fond of anything that could get Ralph into trouble.

  I waited till Father Nathan finished blessing the meal and then slipped into my seat, trapping Josephson in the corner. Sarah sat across from the pup, looking out the window. Father Nathan sat next to her, giving Sarah plenty of space in the booth despite his large frame. Ralph sat in a chair he’d pulled up to the side of the booth’s table.

  It was a somber group.

  “One at a time, report.”

  Josephson spoke up first. "I'm pretty sure an energy pulse from the retinal scanner in the door lock killed Evans. I even think I know how it was done, though I'm not entirely sure how it would kill Evans."

  Sarah reached into the large side pocket on the left side of her coat and pulled out a small box. She held it for everyone to see then pocketed it again. “It’s a wifi for an augmented human. It was hidden in Chekov’s cell. My guess is it was used to send execute commands to Chekov. The last one was to commit suicide.”

  She shrugged after her brief speech. Sarah’s mind was back on Persephone, thinking about Ellie.

  “So, it was murder then. Bones says Evans entire central nervous system was destroyed by some kind of energy pulse. So, Josephson, you’re correct about the retinal scanner. Sarah, that wifi device confirms Bones cause of death. Chekov shanked herself. She resisted evidently, but her augmentation was too much. She carried out the command.”

  I leaned back and glanced down at the hot plate of lasagna, an Old Earth comfort food.

  “That just leaves us with motive, of which there is none.”

  Father Nathan sat his fork down and looked at me with a pained expression. “Sullivan, about that.”

  “You learned something on our visit?”

  The good Father’s response was a grimace.

  “You’re not Catholic Nathan. You don’t hear confession. You’re an Anglican priest. Whatever one of the cons told you, if it impacts this case, you need to tell me.”

  He considered my words. “I don’t think you understand how confession works, Inspector. It doesn’t matter what you want. If it was told to me in confidence because of my collar, I’m not telling you.”

  I left him alone and turned my attention to the cooling lasagna.

  “Truthfully, all I can pass on to you is there are numerous profitable operations run by each of the gangs within the prison.”

  I stopped and chewed a mouthful of my meal, staring at my friend. He met my hard gaze with an equally hard one of his own.

  “That goes without saying I suppose,” he added. “But there is also something much larger, much more profitable going on, something that frightens the cons. Nobody would tell me what. At best I could only get hints that it is something big. That, and just getting caught mentioning it will get you dead.”

  Everyone’s eyes turned to Ralph.

  His gaze was fixed at a point on the table in front of him. Reserved by nature, Ralph's features seldom gave away anything. Only when he saw Alice did his face show emotion.

  “Ralph, you did your time at Graham.”

  He looked up at me, the muscles around his throat tight, his teeth clinched. It was a memory he didn’t like to revisit.

  “I can’t help you. When I did my stretch, the Kings ran everything. Drugs, contraband, privileges, the regular sort of rackets gangs run in a prison. Since female prisoners are housed at Graham, for the right price, you could buy an evening with a woman. But something bigger than that? I don’t know.”

  I thought for a bit. Bones was right to be paranoid. Something was going on and whoever was behind the killings had a lot at stake. Killing a C.O. was trouble, and the cons knew it. Dmitry was a reasonable King. He understood prison life and had a good thing going. Killing a C.O. would jeopardize that. The other Kings had to know the same thing.

  Killing an augmented that belonged to Dmitry was dangerous as well. The Russian had lost an asset, a valuable one. Dmitry would want compensation, either in trade of equal value or the life of the killer.

  The killer knew all of this.

  Evans and Chekov were either collateral damage, accidents that were unavoidable, or they were killed to silence them. To make things more suspicious, we’d been called in to investigate. Graham’s own competent investigative team had been excluded.

  “Corona was the Warden when you did your bit?”

  Ralph looked at me and nodded.

  “What about this blonde woman, the assistant warden, Gravestone?”

  “No, she wasn’t there. The assistant warden for the women was an old battle-ax named Helga Stramford. Mean as a wounded Primian rat and probably more diseased.”

  “Does the prison administration know about all of this?”

  Ralph nodded. “They’re in on it. Some of the money actually gets spent on the prison. Word is Corona does it to ease his conscience. The rest? It goes into somebodies pocket."

  “So whatever this big secret it is, it came about after the change in assistant wardens?”

  Ralph stood up to go. "That would be my guess, Sully."

  Everyone sat in silence, lost in his or her own thoughts.

  “There’s one more thing,” Sarah said firmly in her soft voice.

  She looked at everyone at the table one by one, her eyes locking with mine.

  “My sister Ellie is locked up beneath Graham. Sully left her there.”

  “WHY BETA PRIME?”

  MacAuliffe sighed in frustration. His shoulders slumped, and bags had formed under his eyes. He was exhausted. Markeson noted the fact a few hours of stress had transformed the arrogant, confident and smooth MacAuliffe into a tired, weary man in his late fifties.

  “Location.”

  “Location?”

  "That and resources. Beta Prime location is on what will become a major trade route. There are fifteen Earth type planets in systems nearby and another nineteen that can be terraformed. Each has a climate with varying degrees of comfort, but all either are or will be habitable for humans within the next ten years. The Alliance plans to colonize all of these worlds.”

  “Military bases, trade, logistics, all of which will need an established world to operate from during the expansion,” Markeson observed.

  “Yes. Not to mention the natural resources Beta Prime possesses, the opportunities for tourism for those who must live on, shall we say, warmer climates than what humans would find comfortable. Then there is the expansion of current manufacturing.”

  “Others will want this planet then. That could put a damper on the Society's plans. I doubt the Confederation or the Caliphate will simply watch the Alliance gain that much power and wealth and not at least attempt to intervene."

  MacAuliffe smiled arrogantly. "Who's to say the Society only operates within the Alliance."

  Markeson stood and c
ollected the tablets and other items MacAuliffe had brought, placing them in the briefcase. He turned to leave only to be stopped by MacAuliffe’s brief statement.

  "There is, of course, the small matter of the prison on Persephone.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ALICE CLEARED AWAY the last of the plates from our meal. Looking over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen, the usually friendly Alice shot me a nasty look. I got the message. Keep her Ralph out of it.

  It was one thing if it involved the neighborhood or any of Father Nathan’s kids. But not prison, especially not Graham.

  Alice’s mood was chilly enough Ralph had decided to work another shift in his cab.

  Can’t say that I blame him.

  I faced my group. Josephson looked worried. Sarah gave off an air of indifference. Inside she had to be in turmoil, part concern for her sister Ellie and a lot of fury at me for leaving Ellie behind.

  Father Nathan appeared to be his usual self. Calm, relaxed and cheerful. I knew better. He was thinking about the cons that had talked to him because he was a priest. If any harm came to one of those cons, who ever was responsible would answer to the good Father, and it wouldn't be pleasant.

  When he finished with the perp, the need for repentance would be obvious to all involved.

  “If we find out what the scam is, we get motive. Motive will lead to the killer or killers.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  “So we’re going back.”

  Silence.

  “Josephson, you’re staying behind.”

  The pup's jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed slightly as his fists clenched.

  “I’m not scared.”

  "Yes, you are. We all are. Fools if we aren't. I need you here, so I have someone to communicate with. Also, I need you to do some questionable searches. The kind without a warrant."

  Josephson relaxed; relieved he wasn’t being called a coward. “You want me to hack into something?”

  “Get that guy who owes you a favor to help. The one we let slide on the B and E.”