“How do you feel Ambassador Pi?” asked Hunt. “Any words for the audience?” Pi gazed unfocused and gibbered nonsense. “Maybe the ambassador needs a little look-see by the ship’s medical staff?” suggested Hunt.
Glounce hugged the Podil tightly enough to stop his jabbering. “He’ll be fine when he’s had a few drinks in him.” Glounce espied a waiter carting mugs of beer about. With a swish of a tentacle he scooped four mugs off the tray and handed one to each player. Pi held the mug unwittingly until Glounce tipped it to his lips. Pi sipped, reviving slowly. Adlaison and Sir Giles raised their mugs out and toasted.
“To a well-played match,” said Sir Giles. The others brought their mugs up and smiled for the vidi-drone. After the toast, Adlaison excused himself saying he was in need of a hot shower and a rub down. He left, limping off the court. The remaining players tried to disperse but Hunt stopped them.
“There’s a little matter of a wager I hear,” said Hunt. “Can you elaborate for the audience?”
Glounce cleared his throat. “As you all probably know, this competition arose from a small wager I proposed. Two U238 pellets to the winning team.”
“Two pellets each,” corrected Sir Giles.
“Right. Two pellets each.” Glounce looked even more unhappy.
“A small fortune indeed,” said Hunt. “I’ve heard the personal wagers in the bookie venues are claiming that there’s been 3.5 trillion pellets wagered throughout the Galactic Guild, making the Battle of the Species a very profitable venture for the winners.”
“That much?” asked Glounce. “The Galactic Guild is a very competitive environment with its many sentient species. I can see how one could indulge themselves in a little personal wager. I hope that those who lost their money today will forgive Pi and myself.”
“I’m sure no one will hold you responsible,” said Hunt. “You played magnificently after all.”
“I did, didn’t I?” commented Glounce. “I might even think about a professional career.”
“Not for me,” said Pi. “It’s too dangerous for Podils.” He rubbed the welt on his forehead. “But I wouldn’t mind having some more lessons from my friend, Glounce.” He tried to reach in and give his partner a high five but Glounce missed and smacked Pi right between the eyestalks.
Quickly Glounce grabbed his partner before he fell down and suckered him to his face for a closeup photo. The vidi-drone saw its opportunity to snap away. A series of photos appeared flashing on the monitor broadcasting the images. Glounce started off smiling while Pi looked dazed; they ended with the last shot of Glounce glowering at his unresponsive partner.
“We’ll begin his training immediately for our new matches in the tryout circuit.” Glounce grinned showing rows of razor sharp teeth. “We’ll be famous by next year. We promise.” And he shook Pi affectionately.
The camera panned to the remaining winner. Hunt jammed his holo-mic up to the Terran’s face. “And what can we expect for the future from the famous Sir Giles Thackery?”
Sir Giles rubbed his aching shoulder. “I expect this case will conclude forthwith and I’ll be shipped back into cryo-sleep until the galaxy needs my services once more.”
“Forthwith? So you believe the murderer will be caught soon?”
“Oh, very soon. I might even go so far as to say it will be happening imminently.”
Chet Huntley looked about the crowd. “So the murderer is among us right now?”
“Most definitely. He might even be one of us.” Sir Giles chuckled to himself. “Myself excluded that is. But, yes, the murderer will most assuredly strike some poor unfortunate soul.”
The vidi-drone zipped around to zoom in on faces throughout the crowd. The monitor showed shot after shot of suspects looking equally guilty. Then the last three faces were startled portraits of Pi, Glounce and Hunt Chetley. The video cut back to Hunt laughing at the absurdity of the switcher’s choices. “Ha! ha! ha! I’m not one of the suspects am I Sir Giles?”
“Not unless you can manifest corporeally.” Sir Giles put his hand through Hunt Chetley’s body and watched the hologram fritz statically.
“Well,” said Hunt. “That’s a relief.” Hunt chuckled, sticking the holo-mic into the face of Glounce. “But you could be the murderer.” Glounce stammered, sputtered, and for the first time in his life he had nothing to say. “Or how about you, Ambassador Pi. Are you the murderer?” Pi looked shocked as he flinched from the hologram.
At that moment a blood-curdling scream ripped throughout the auditorium. Everyone stopped and turned to the source. Nanette and Smythe ran out of the athletic showers.
“Ambassador Adlaison has been murdered!” shouted Smythe in a panic.
* * *
PANDEMONIUM ERUPTED in the amphitheater. The ambassadors, shocked at the knowledge that Ambassador Adlaison’s death had really come about, panicked; pushing and shoving each other in their haste to get back to their quarters and assumed safety. Hunt Chetley pointed over the din of confusion towards the showers and the vidi-drone raced above the heads of the ambassadors intent on cramming their way to the exits. Captain Aubrey marshaled his men and pushed the crowd back so Sir Giles could move toward the source of the confusion.
“Restore order!” shouted Sir Giles to Captain Aubrey. He nodded and pointed his instructions visually to his crew over the screams.
Glounce and Pi followed Sir Giles to where Nanette, Smythe, Hunt and the vidi-drone were gathered.
“What’s happened?” shouted Sir Giles.
“Come see for yourself,” said Nanette. She led them into the shower room. The noise lessened slightly once they were inside.
Captain Aubrey must’ve found a bullhorn and was shouting into it to calm the crowd down. Order was being restored.
Turning into the men’s side of the shower room, Sir Giles found very little left of Ambassador Adlaison. His clothes were folded neatly on a bench alongside his shoes and racket. In the shower there were the remains of a pinkish slime gurgling down the drain. Adlaison’s jewelry lay haphazardly on the wet tile flooring.
The vidi-drone tried to get a closer view. “Everyone stand back!” commanded Sir Giles and Nanette brushed the vidi-drone to the back of the gathering. Sir Giles inspected the shower. “It’s as I feared. Nanobots dismembered Adlaison and his remains drained away.”
“How horrible,” gagged Pi. His early stupor seemed to be gone.
“Simply ghastly,” said Glounce.
“My leather case,” said Sir Giles. “I need my case.”
As if on cue, the same porter rushed in with Sir Giles’ curious leather case. He caught sight of a puddle of pink slime bubbling up the drains. He dropped the case, covered his mouth with both hands and ran out gagging.
“That man needs a new line of work, I’m afraid,” said Sir Giles, picking up the leather case and fumbling with the catches. He produced a pair of glasses with huge lenses on the front and a worn elastic strap to hold them to his head. He donned the pair of binoculars and peered at the sludge. He hummed happily, prodding the pinkish goo.
“Is there something in that goop?” asked Nanette.
“I’m afraid there’s nothing left of Adlaison. Nanobots are teeming throughout this stuff.” He looked up to Nanette who stared back at her grandfather suppressing a laugh. His eyes were magnified to ten times their real size.
Sir Giles removed the binoculars and scrutinized the shower head. “It appears the nanobots were delivered through the water and onto his body. Once introduced, it must have been a very painful few moments before the bots did their evil work.”
“Are there any clues left behind?” asked Smythe. “Like the other murders?”
“Let’s see,” ventured the sleuth. He pulled the fluoroscope from the bag and shined it over the tile work. Instantly words began to fluoresce. Everyone read about Miss American Pie and drinking whiskey and rye until they die.
“I know this one,” said Nanette. “It’s from an old song . . . ”
Sir Giles waited anxiously for her to remember.
“Beethoven I think,” she concluded.
“I’m sorry, my dear. You’re wrong,” said Sir Giles. “It’s a song all right, but it’s from a 1960s singer called Don McLean. This is one verse from his most famous piece: American Pie.”
“Oh—” Dejection came quick on the heels of thinking she had finally nailed an old reference.
“What do you make of it Sir Giles?” asked Smythe. “Who’s next?”
“I’ve got an idea,” he said continuing to fluoresce the tiles. When he moved the scope below the original scrawling he found more markings. The letters appeared to be a capital C divided by the letter d with a line drawn through both letters like someone wanted to scrub it away.
“That settles it,” said Sir Giles wiping his hands.
“What does it mean?” asked Glounce.
“Didn’t any of you have geometry class in high school?” asked Sir Giles.
They all nodded. “And you don’t recognize this equation?” he asked in disbelief.
They all looked at it inquisitively. Everyone shook their heads. “Would it help if I added this to the equation?” He dabbed his finger in some goo and wrote ∏ = in front of the equation.
Everyone groaned and said pi at once, like it was obvious.
“Pi!” screeched Pi, looking slightly baffled. “That’s me!”
“Yes ambassador,” said Sir Giles. “You do appear to be the next victim.”
* * *
“IN LIGHT OF THIS NEW DEVELOPMENT,” said Sir Giles, “I think it would be prudent to get Ambassador Pi off the Euripides.”
Pi’s voice responded in a panicked falsetto, “Yes, oh my goodness. Yes.” He began to shake from fear. “I don’t want to be—” he gulped hard holding a hand to his throat “—dissolved like Ambassador Adlaison.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Glounce. “The murderer would never use the same method to kill again. I bet his next method will be death by vegetable peeler, skinning his victim slowly, one layer at a time.”
“Ugh,” squealed Pi and fainted dead away.
Glounce looked around at everyone who stared back in horror. “I was only kidding. Pi is so high strung.”
“Revive Pi,” ordered Sir Giles to Nanette handing her his bag. “The smelling salts are in a small cellophane packet in the front pocket.” She found them and had Pi snorting and spluttering within moments.
“Is he capable of being moved?” asked Sir Giles.
“I’ll ask,” said Nanette. Turning to Pi, she gripped his chin in her hand and made the Podil look directly into her eyes. “Would you like to stay on board the Euripides to be vegetable peeled or escape to safety to another planet before the murderer strikes again?”
“Escape please,” responded Pi weakly.
“Looks like he’s ready, Grandfather.”
“Good,” said Sir Giles. “Smythe.”
Smythe sprang forward. “Yes, sir.”
“Is there a back way out of this locker room? Some way less frequented by passengers?”
“Yes. A service corridor that leads past beam 360. We’d turn there at the junction to access the hanger decks.”
“Excellent,” said Sir Giles. “Then I suggest we bring Pi.”
“I’m going with you,” stated Glounce. “Where he goes, I go.”
Sir Giles gave him a questioning look. “You’d be safer left behind.”
“Pi’s my friend. He needs to be taken care of.”
Sir Giles hefted his bag from a strap and slung it over a shoulder. “I think it is unwise to be too close to Ambassador Pi. It would make you more likely to be a target also, or just get in the crossfire and die anyway.”
“Damn the risks,” Glounce protested. “I’m going and that’s final.”
“As you wish Nobleflim,” said Sir Giles. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Hunt Chetley horned in and made a show of getting in position for the vidi-drone to record them. “You believe the murderer will make a move again so soon?”
“I predict we may find the murderer waiting for us along the way,” said Sir Giles, puffing up his chest like Hunt, mimicking the reporter.
“How exciting,” said Hunt. “You saw it here first folks. Our lives are in peril.” Hunt cupped his ear as if he was receiving a message. Then he looked straight into the lens and said, “We must break away for station identification. Don’t change your channel, we’ll be right back, live, after these important messages.” The light on the vidi-drone flickered out. “Makerdamn GGCC11 regulations. Just when the action is drawing to a head. Do we have to run emergency tests, Marty? Can’t you break the rules just this once? We might miss the action.” Hunt listened for a response. “Crap.”
“I take it that was a no. How long will we be off the air?” asked Sir Giles.
“Three minutes exactly, Sir Giles.”
“Not much time to make a good plan of action,” he said, turning to Smythe. “Can we reach beam 360 before we go live?”
“Probably.”
“Then let’s get going. Pi, Nanette and Smythe in the lead. Glounce, myself, Hunt and the vidi-drone in the rear.”
Smythe led them to the back of the locker room and into a small, sparsely lit corridor. After they took a bend, Smythe stopped and scratched his head at a fork in the hallway.
“What’s wrong?” asked Nanette.
“I don’t remember if it’s the right side or the left side.” He looked at the beam numbers on the right side corridor and returned to lead them down the left corridor. “I hope I chose correctly. At least this corridor seems to be taking us toward the starboard hanger bay. The Euripides is quite a large vessel. I don’t think anyone has thoroughly traversed every part of the ship. I know I haven’t.”
“All I want to know is if we’re lost?” asked Nanette.
“No—well not yet, at least. I hope.” Smythe caught the next numbers on the beam they were crossing over and gave a sigh of relief. “Definitely not lost.”
“That’s good to know,” groaned Nanette. “It’s been nearly three minutes since we started. Are we there yet?”
The light on the vidi-drone blinked a warning and then winked on. Hunt turned and back pedaled while he spoke. “This is Hunt Chetley, live in the bowels of the Luxury Space Liner, the Euripides. As you can see we are making our way along a service corridor to reach the starboard hanger bay where we hope to get Ambassador Pi—the next intended murder victim—safely on board an escape vessel.” He turned back around and ran to catch up with the others as they jogged through a pressure hatch. “Sir Giles,” Hunt said, pointing at him in front of Ambassador Glounce, “has indicated that the murderer will most likely strike before we can achieve our goal.”
They ran through a darkened portal to find that they were immersed in complete darkness. A moment later Sir Giles’ face lit up from a flashlight just pulled from his bag. He beamed about and struck each individual in the face.
“Which way now Smythe?” he roared, hamming up the drama. “We’re losing valuable time!”
Smythe fumbled about and found the release on another pressure hatch. With a whoosh! the door opened, flooding them with blinding white light. “This way,” he called rushing headlong down their new path.
They all scrambled out to find themselves on an observation deck. In small neat letters the plaque over the hatch read: DECK 0, BEAM 360.
What really startled them was the man standing in their way holding a las-pistol.
“Adlaison!” squeaked Pi. “But you’re dead!”
* * *
“YOU THOUGHT YOU’D GET AWAY,” growled Adlaison. “Not while I still breathe you little twerp.” His las-pistol stopped waving and pointed towards Pi. “I have you now.”
Pi looked around frantically for an escape. Seeing none, he cringed behind Glounce’s blubber sack. The vidi-drone floated above their heads and zoomed into the action, recording every moment.
“Now see here, A
dlaison,” said Glounce snaking a tentacle towards Adlaison’s hand. “Someone could get hurt.”
Adlaison slapped the tentacle away viciously. “That someone’s going to be you if you don’t move away from Pi,” sneered Adlaison. “Get out of my way you Flimian fool.” Glounce made another try at the las-pistol as he scooched a tentacle along the floor to make a grab for the weapon. Adlaison fired a warning shot and the tentacle retracted with a snap!
“No! Don’t!” shouted Sir Giles. “You don’t under—”
Glounce whipped another of his tentacles, catching Adlaison in the hand, knocking the weapon free. Sir Giles, Nanette, Smythe, and Pi raced to retrieve the las-pistol. Pi moved with remarkable speed and agility for a Podil, reaching the handgun first. Before they knew it, he jumped to his feet and shot an arching stream of plasma over their heads. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks. “I must thank my good friend, Glounce,” his voice rang out, filled with venom. “Without his keen skills, and many tentacles, I’d still be in the hands of my enemies.”
“What the hell are you talking about Pi?” asked Glounce. “You sound as if you’re the murderer?”
“He is,” said Adlaison rubbing a bruised wrist.
“But I thought it was you who was holding a gun on us?” said Glounce looking totally perplexed.
“On him,” Adlaison said pointing to Pi. “I was pointing the gun at the crazy Podil. Sir Giles told me to wait for him here, ready to apprehend the sneaky little blue bastard.”
Glounce turned to Pi. “Is this true, Pi? Are you the murderer?”
He rolled his eyestalks and nodded with an un-Podil-like sneer.
“I can’t believe it,” said Glounce. “After all these years you’d think I’d know if my best friend was a murderer.”
“I’m not your friend,” snapped Pi. “I hate you and your condescending ways. Pi, do this. Pi, do that. Pi, don’t be so stupid. Well, I’m not stupid! Do you hear me!” He pointed the gun, jabbing it at Glounce’s midriff. “I’m the smartest one here. I’m the mastermind behind all this.”
“Whatever you say Pi,” said Glounce in an attempt at placating him. “Just put the gun down before you shoot somebody. There’s no need for any more violence.”
Murder on Euripides Page 22