Murder on Euripides

by Scott A. Combs

  “Yes Grandfather,” Nanette affirmed. “It’s four bells.”

  “I suppose you’ve been up for hours,” he said, scratching his silk pajamaed chest. “A SLASP agent’s work is never done.”

  “A few,” she admitted. “There’s a lot to prepare for today’s schedule. Have you decided on how and what you are going to say to all the ambassadors?”

  He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I’m still contemplating the best course of action. I’m sure I’ll do my usual vague speech. Just enough to pique their interest, not enough to panic them. At least I hope there won’t be pandemonium.”

  Nanette nodded approval. “Do you feel up to some breakfast in the dining hall?”

  “By all means, my dear. Just let me do my three s-es first.”

  “Three s-es?”

  “It’s an old saying. Maybe a little inappropriate in this day and age. Things we said in the past had many levels of meaning. We’d mask our crudeness with a cute phrase. Often this led to micro cliques between people of like thinking. Of course, people haven’t really changed much. They still like to gravitate to people who have like minds. Just the context to their bonds changes. You can guess I have a unique perspective on the Terran race after so many years observing them in their natural environment and as they evolve or fail to do so. I apologize in advance if I offend you with any of my mannerisms.”

  “There’s not much I haven’t come across that offends me anymore. My training has prepared me for most situations. Sex, drugs, different lifestyles are all part of the curriculum in the academy. We trained months on Terran foibles.”

  “That’s good to know. Just one question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Are Terrans more tolerant toward their fellow Terrans? It’s a subjective query, I know.”

  “As whole, things are better. There’s still bigotry, greed, lust, sloth, hate. You name it, someone still does it. People haven’t eradicated their baser side. But there is more tolerance and diversity since Terrans have had to coexist with so many other species in the Galactic Guild.”

  “I wonder if we will ever evolve to the next level?”

  “Not in our immediate future, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s a pity. Someday when I’m awakened I’d just once like to know that my services weren’t needed. Seems we’ve digressed. What were we talking about?”

  “The three s-es.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m curious Grandfather. What are the three s-es?”

  “Shave, shower, and Shinola. Not necessarily in that order.” He rubbed his cheek. “I’m sorely in need of the first item.”

  Nanette grasped the first two in the list but not the last item. Her expression and standing fast indicated she wanted some enlightenment.

  Sir Giles smiled, envisioning her struggling to fathom what Shinola meant. “Shinola is another way of saying shit. Actually it could mean anything else necessary for one’s general toilet.”

  “Oh. That makes sense. I have a lot of Shinola to do in the mornings then.”

  She wandered into his room. Sir Giles turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature to his liking. Nanette’s voice floated to him from his bedroom. “I’ll set your clothes out for the day on the bed.”

  “No doubt you’ll inspect every fiber to assess its lethality,” he retorted. He looked around for his razor, inspecting the ancient piece with satisfaction. He lathered his face and neck expertly then set to shaving his neck and cheeks around his beard with the old-fashioned double-edged razor. Swish, swish went his deft handiwork.

  “Aha!” shouted Nanette.

  Startled, Sir Giles nicked his face. “What is it?” There was concern and alarm in his voice. “What did you find?”

  “A killer ball of lint,” joked Nanette.

  “Ha!” Sir Giles’ eyes twinkled with delight, dabbing a piece of toilet paper on the small cut. “I was hoping you had a good sense of humor. This case would’ve become such a bore without a little levity.”

  “How could I not—being your descendant?” Nanette shook out an impeccably tailored pair of trousers, shirt and blazer. Even though they were old-fashioned, they conveyed a man of good taste.

  Sir Giles finished his shave, splashing the remaining soap from his face. “Which suit did you pick for my speech today?”

  Nanette looked at the label. “The Armani X pinstripe.”

  “Just what I would’ve chosen,” he mumbled over toothpaste and pounding water. Sir Giles showered and brushed his teeth simultaneously. Three minutes later, he dried himself and donning a bathrobe, he entered his room to find Nanette picking out socks, underwear and a beautiful electric-blue silk tie.

  “I thought the red tie was a little too showy for this suit,” she said.

  “You have a good eye for the details, my dear.” Sir Giles looked about for a missing element.

  Nanette produced his dress shoes, freshly polished and shiny. “Looking for these? I had Roderick, our valet, shine them up a bit.”

  “There they are,” he beamed. “All equipment accounted for. Now for a little privacy and I’ll be ready for that breakfast.”

  Nanette nodded. “Absolutely.” She left him with a light kiss on the cheek. Within a few minutes Sir Giles emerged, looking every bit the celebrity detective described on the Galactic Channel. “Am I presentable?” he asked.

  “If you weren’t my grandfather,” she began with a lighthearted smile, “I’d have to throw myself at your feet in abject shamelessness for a touch of your hand, you old woman killer.”

  “Would you settle for a kiss on the forehead and an affectionate hug?” Sir Giles said, opening his arms wide.

  “Gladly.”

  Yet his granddaughter’s distraction was evident. “You’re worried about this case.”

  She nodded.

  “Don’t fret, my dear.” They turned to go to breakfast. “I’ve been in worse situations than this, as you might have read. Dire straights are my bread and butter.”

  “But—”

  “No buts before coffee.”

  * * *

  BREAKFAST WAS UNEVENTFUL for the two, sipping their coffees, eating a light repast consisting of fruits from Casaba, nuts from the Golarian System, and good old-fashioned English muffins with butter from Terra. Nanette was content discussing their family tree instead of their mission. She ran through the generations starting with herself and working backwards. Sir Giles would join in when he remembered an amusing anecdote about one of their relatives. He prattled on like it only happened yesterday—and to him they were still a recent memory. They laughed together until it was time to address the delegation regarding this mysterious assignment.

  They stood waiting in the side wing of the temporary Parliament room on board the Euripides. One thousand and sixty-two ambassadors from all the known habitable planets rumbled with anticipation to finally learn why Sir Giles Thackery had been awakened from cryo-sleep. Rumors and innuendo rippled through the delegation, some very heated with empty accusations that many dignitaries were thought suspects by others. When the Speaker of the Parliament, a Trillopod, pounded his gavel so loudly that the chandeliers rattled, the delegates came to order.

  “Our guest speaker today needs no introduction,” said the Speaker of the Parliament, Touk. “You’ve followed his career for the last four hundred years or more; solving some of the most horrendous crimes in history. Devotion to his craft has gained him a knighthood as well as wealth and prestige throughout the Galactic Guild. He’s eternally pledged his body to science in the hopes of bringing about a more peaceful galaxy for us all to live in. His dedication and devotion to all species is a rare gift.”

  There was a roar of applause.

  “Without any further ado, I would ask you to welcome Sir Giles Thackery, the famous detective from the Terran System.”

  Another round of enthusiastic applause shook the Parliament.

  “Is my tie straight?” asked Sir Giles of Nanette. She tweaked
and tightened the double Windsor knot.

  “Break a leg, Grandfather.” She smiled. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

  He nodded and walked out to the Speaker standing at a podium. They greeted each other and Speaker Touk relinquished the podium for Sir Giles. The applause lasted longer than was necessary with many of the delegation standing, not wanting to be outdone by their peers. Finally, Sir Giles raised both of his hands and gestured that the crowd should cease their enthusiasm and be seated. Slowly they complied and order was restored.

  Sir Giles cleared his throat and began his speech. “Illustrious delegates of the Galactic Guild, I come to you today with troubling news.”

  All the beings anxiously awaited the reveal.

  “The Terran System received a communication from an unknown origin of the most dastardly nature.”

  The delegates rumbled with agitation at these dire words.

  Sir Giles waited for them to settle down to a reasonable level of noise before continuing. “This communication conveyed intent to disrupt the Parliament by engaging in a battle of mind and body with me personally. This communication openly challenged me, Sir Giles Thackery, to stop what it describes as ‘an inevitable show of superiority’ by gruesomely murdering each and every one of you, the members of the Parliament of the Galactic Guild.”

  The Parliament erupted once more into chaos, so heated this time that the delegates began jumping up to crowd around the stage where Sir Giles stood. Nanette ran to his side easing some of the most enthusiastic ambassadors away from Sir Giles with the threat of violence.

  “Gentlebeings,” shouted Sir Giles over the roaring voices. “Please, take your seats.” He rounded the podium, helping Nanette with the more zealous representatives. After many assurances and appendage shakings, order resumed. Nanette faded to a respectful position behind Sir Giles but wouldn’t budge from that spot when he attempted to shoo her away. He resigned himself that she was unmovable in her resolve to fulfill her duty as his protector.

  He turned to the Parliament, once again clearing his throat as a hint for their attention. “I’ll try to answer all of your questions if the delegation maintains order. I will call upon you all in turn if you raise an appendage. Now for the first question . . . .”

  Appropriate appendages shot up in the air from a myriad of species. An eye-catching tentacle several feet higher than any other’s waved in the fourth row. Sir Giles pointed to it. “Ambassador Glounce from Flim,” said Sir Giles.

  The crowd moaned and dropped their appendages.

  “This communication you allege—”

  “I do not allege, sir,” rebuked Sir Giles. “It is irrefutable fact.”

  “Um—as you say. How long have Terra personnel known of its contents?”

  “Three standard Terran days. Next question.” He said it so quickly that Glounce was shut up by fellow representatives attempting to be next, so much jostling took place that he had to sit down, dissatisfied and eager to be asking his follow-up question.

  This time, Sir Giles picked someone seated in the front row. “The ambassador from Skree—I’m sorry, I don’t recall your name.”

  In an ear-piercing screech the ambassador spoke, “Caw-trilli-squeak.”

  “I’ll not venture to mimic your wonderful sounding name,” said Sir Giles, soothing his ear with the tip of a finger. “If you’ll permit me, I will address the ambassador as Caw.”

  The ambassador chortled an affirmation. “Do you have any leads in the case?” Caw sing-songed his question.

  “None at this moment. Next.” He picked a spotted midget-sized delegate with grey skin and a prominent horn.

  “Regaltusk from Rhinoceride,” the ambassador introduced himself with a serious nod. “I want to know what is being done to protect us during this investigation?”

  “Very good question, noble Regaltusk,” Sir Giles said, clearing his throat twice. Then he put on the best confident-looking expression that he could muster. “Every possible measure has been deployed. The Euripides is a high-security luxury liner, as you all can attest to, staffed with a very competent crew in charge of security while this investigation is ongoing. Also the Fourth Naval SATO3 Fleet has been deployed as a contingency backup force, when and if need be.”

  The delegation became very agitated. Moans of disapproval piped up loudly saying things like: ‘Incompetent dolts’ and ‘They can’t even find their own excretion holes with however many appendages they have.’

  Sir Giles’ face scowled at the last statement. “The alternative is to surround the Euripides with a full complement of SLASP ships.” The delegation instantly became sober knowing that none wished that kind of protection. “But I convinced my superiors that would be a breach of the Treaty of Basic Liberties.”

  The fuzzy-coated, bobbed-eared, squirrel-like delegate from Sciurus named Bristlebrush piped up—all one meter of him. “Damn right it would be.”

  Sir Giles nodded. With a businesslike demeanor he continued. “Can we move on to another question?” More candidates vied for his attention. Finally he chose a familiar face. “Ambassador Pi from Podon.”

  Pi stood up apprehensively and mumbled with embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry Ambassador Pi. I didn’t catch that.”

  Glounce, who was sitting next to Pi, roared back, “He wants to know if the message specified which of us will be the first ambassador to be murdered?”

  Sir Giles scanned the delegation. “I can only venture an educated guess at this time. I believe it will be the Sussian representative.” The crowd erupted again in chaos with one resounding question dominating their thoughts, wondering how he came to this conclusion. Sir Giles quieted them again. “I’m hoping I’m wrong of course,” said Sir Giles. “I came to that conclusion due to the fact that the Ambassador from Sus is the only dignitary not present in Parliament this morning.”

  Chapter 2

  Murder Most Delicious

  THE DELEGATES WERE ASKED TO remain in the temporary Parliament room while Sir Giles and Nanette were escorted by ship security to the Sussian’s suite. There they met the captain of the Euripides.

  “Sir Giles.” Captain Aubrey was holding out his hand to shake. “We finally meet. And your lovely granddaughter, Nanette, I presume?” He tipped his hat to Nanette. “Captain Aubrey, ma’am.”

  Nanette smiled at his politeness. Then Captain Aubrey noticed Nanette’s rank and insignia pin on the collar of her jacket. Aubrey snapped to attention, saluting and announcing, “SLASP agent on deck!”

  Nanette returned his salute. Then declared to all in earshot, “At ease, gentlemen. Please don’t trouble yourselves displaying any further military courtesy to me while I’m on board the Euripides. Think of me as just another passenger.”

  Captain Aubrey relaxed. Sir Giles looked over the captain’s shoulder to where the men were standing guard and in various states of alert. “I wish our meeting could’ve been under better circumstances. Have you followed my orders?”

  “To the last letter sir.” Captain Aubrey motioned with a hand, guiding Sir Giles and Nanette the remainder of the way to the Sussian’s suite. “Nothing has been touched, as you instructed.”

  Sir Giles waved the robust, muscle-bound sentries away. “Please step aside, gentlemen.” He then laid the palm of his hand on the door. His eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. “Captain, can you have the bridge tell me what the internal temperature of this berth is?”

  The captain relayed the information through a comm nestled into his ear. The answer came back quickly. “Twenty-two point two degrees Celsius. Just like the temperature in this hallway,” reported Aubrey.

  Sir Giles motioned for Captain Aubrey and Nanette to step closer. “Place your hands on the door and tell me if this feels like it is a comfortable twenty-two point two degrees to you.”

  Both felt the nearly scorching temperature radiating from the door. “Good Maker man,” gasped Aubrey. “The ambassador’s room is on fire! We’ve got to get in ther
e to help!”

  Sir Giles stopped Captain Aubrey from opening the door. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that, captain,” said Sir Giles. “The ambassador has most likely been dead for many hours.”

  “How could you know that for sure?” protested Aubrey fighting his instincts to help.

  Sir Giles knelt down. “My dear,” he addressed Nanette. “Do you have a writing implement on you?”

  “Certainly Grandfather,” she said, reaching into a pocket and producing a silver-plated pencil. He took the pencil, retracting the lead. Moving to the threshold, he prodded what appeared to be a clear viscous material oozing under the seal. When he loaded the pencil with enough of the goo, he sniffed it. A sharp facial expression indicated he recognized the substance. He handed the pencil back to Nanette. She smelled it but shrugged in uncertainty.

  “I suggest we move away from the door,” ordered Sir Giles. “Have the bridge override the environmental controls on this suite and evacuate the atmosphere to space long enough to extinguish any fire that might be lurking inside. Then pump in fresh air.”

  Aubrey relayed the instructions.

  “Captain Aubrey,” began Sir Giles, while they listened to the atmosphere being vented away. “How large is the Sussian Ambassador? Is he portly?”

  “Average size for a Sussian,” he said. “Somewhere between a ton and a ton and a half—say around twelve hundred kilos.”

  “Just as I suspected,” said Sir Giles. “Of the twelve hundred kilos, would you guess the Sussian was around seventy percent body fat?”

  “I really couldn’t say. But that sounds about right from the way he could pack the sweets away. We often had to maintain more staff to satisfy his eating habits.”

  “Twelve hundred kilos.” Sir Giles made some mental calculations to visualize the bulky ambassador. “So the ambassador—” He waited to have Captain Aubrey offer a proper name.

  “Pudge. Ambassador Pudge.”

  “So Ambassador Pudge is of normal weight and size for his race?”

  “As I’ve said before. He appears to be in excellent health for a Sussian. I don’t see what you are getting at exactly.”