Mars Rising (Domeworld Saga Book 1)

by John Corwin

  Scarlett lifted the bubble off and felt hot humidity sear into her lungs. "You call this low temperature?"

  Olga grinned. "Low is a relative term here."

  "Obviously." Beads of sweat wasted no time forming on Scarlett's forehead and trickling into her eyes.

  Olga handed her a spongy headband that helped keep the sting of salt out of her eyes. Without moving the body, Scarlett carefully examined the face and the throat. At the very edges of the burns where the flesh still remained, she found a neat slice. A matching wound showed on the opposite side as well. There was also blood hidden in the curly black hair on the back of the head from an impact and a red welt on the back of the neck, like hot metal had pressed against it.

  The deceased wore a blue jumpsuit indicating mechworks. Scarlett ignored this and pulled up one of the sleeves. The individual had no tattoos, no scars. The skin looked pale and bloodless, of course, but otherwise undamaged. Scarlett unzipped the jumpsuit and looked at the soft white body underneath. It was a male with a spare dome of fat around his waist. She found two bruises on the stomach, each one roughly the shape of a fist.

  By the time Scarlett worked her way down to the man's feet, she knew where he'd come from, but still no clue to his name. The logic circulating in her head made her sick with apprehension.

  She looked over the burst pipe and studied the stressed metal where it had been bent first inward, then back out. The pipe itself was probably a foot in diameter. The amount of steam erupting from within must have flash-fried the man's face.

  "Well?" Olga asked when Scarlett stood.

  "This is bad—really bad." The deputy bit her lip and stared down at the corpse. "John Doe is in his late twenties or early thirties. My guess is he was punched twice in the stomach, then hit over the back of the head with something hard, knocking him out. They slipped him into a mechworks jumpsuit and dragged him here, set him on the ground. I think the murderer planned to burst the pipe in the victim's face to kill him, but he must have woken up."

  Scarlett made a slashing motion across her throat. "The killer slit the victim's throat, then used something to puncture the steam pipe." She ran her finger along the thick broken metal. "Any idea what could rupture the pipe like this?"

  Olga shrugged. "Mechworks has more tools than I can name. I'm sure it was a hammer or something like that."

  "I reckon it doesn't matter what burst the pipe," Scarlett said. "What matters a whole lot is that this man isn't a civvie."

  The marshal's face paled. "Oh, shit."

  Scarlett nodded grimly. "Yep, it's a lab coat."

  "Barnes and Simmons are going to be all over this," Olga said. "I guarantee someone's gonna feed for this even if they have to choose someone innocent."

  "Not on my watch," Scarlett said.

  "Technically, it's not your watch, Deputy."

  Scarlett scowled. "Looks like the body is still fresh. It happened sometime last night if I had to guess."

  "Probably," Olga said. "The coroner might have a better idea."

  "The coroner is a lab coat," Scarlett said. She examined the welt on the back of the neck. "This is a strange burn mark."

  "From the steam, maybe?"

  Scarlett shook her head. "No, it's too small." She fingered a grate over a gutter, but found no blood. "I think the man bled out into this grate, but the steam washed away the blood."

  "Looks likely," Olga agreed.

  Turning on her heel, Scarlett looked on the ground and found a few faint scuff marks leading to the main walkway then due west—right toward the science campus. "The killer used this tunnel to get to Science Division."

  "You can't just waltz down this tunnel and under the campus," Olga said. "There's a thick steel door about a mile down. If maintenance has to get in there for servicing, someone from the other side has to meet them and open the door."

  "Who meets them?"

  "Science marshals usually, but sometimes lab coats."

  Scarlett stared down the dim corridor. "Can you take me to it?"

  Olga nodded. "Better put your helmet back on. The pipes get hotter the further out you go."

  After securing the helmet back over her head, Scarlett followed Olga down the long tunnel. Lights blinked on overhead, turning off a few dozen yards behind them as they walked alongside thick electrical cables on one side and shiny stainless steel steam pipes and water plumbing on the other.

  "Quite the walk," Scarlett said after a while. Sweat overwhelmed the headband and trickled into her eyes. "I can't believe they don't have an electric cart to use down here."

  "Maintenance has two carts," Olga said, "But they're restricted on usage."

  It seemed counterproductive to ration the electricity maintenance used to keep things running, but the scientists meted and measured everything: water, power, food, and even life. Scarlett reckoned they even gauged the amount of shit and piss a person produced. Max had once quipped that the entire place was a rat maze with just one wall, and the people were part of an experiment.

  Scarlett thought he was wrong about one thing. There was more than just the encircling dome wall. Their daily life was all walled up by rations, work, and rules. The walls leading to death were invisible until the moment you walked right into them.

  At long last, they reached a solid gray barrier blocking everything but the pipes and cables from proceeding further. The door didn't even have a handle on this side, just an unblinking red eye in the middle. Scarlett examined the floor but found no scuffmarks from dragging a victim. She did find rubber tracks from a wheeled vehicle, presumably an electric cart, though they ran together with others from previous visitors.

  "Do the lab coats have a cart they use?" Scarlett asked, her voice sounding as if it were trapped in a bottle thanks to the bubble helmet.

  Olga nodded. "Of course, but it's rare they ever come down here."

  Scarlett began to wonder if the dead man had driven the cart into the brassworks, or if someone had knocked him out and driven him there. It didn't seem likely the lab coats would kill one of their own, but it seemed just as unlikely a civvie would dare murder someone from Science Division.

  Regardless of how it went down, one thing was for certain—Simmons would want a civvie to pay in kind.

  She examined the door for signs of tampering, but saw nothing to indicate anyone tried to pry open the door with a tool. Even if they had a crowbar, it would take serious muscle to wrench the latch and break it. Scarlett ran a finger into the small space between the insulated electric cables and the door frame and felt at least several inches of steel. Unless someone used a welding torch, no one from mechworks was breaking through this door.

  A dangerous plan formed in Scarlett's mind as she and Olga headed back towards the steamworks. What if the pair simply disposed of the body? Surely there were a million ways to do it underground. The hardest part would be convincing Olga and anyone else who'd seen the body to keep their mouths shut. She'd need to know everyone who'd seen the body before proceeding.

  "Has anyone ever vanished down here?" Scarlett asked.

  "For good?" Olga tried to tap a gloved finger on her chin, apparently forgetting about the bubble helmet. She flinched in mild surprise when she tapped the glass. "I believe there have been a couple of cases, but that was long before I was the mechworks marshal."

  "Where is the raw metal upstairs melted?"

  "In those tanks you saw." She narrowed her eyes. "You're thinking of destroying the body, aren't you?"

  Scarlett gave her a wide-eyed look of innocence. "Why would you say something like that?"

  "Because Max wanted to do it once." Olga shook her head. "It doesn't matter if they find the body or not. Once they realize a lab coat is missing, all hell's gonna break loose."

  It didn't take a genius to realize Olga was right. She might just be a security marshal, but she wasn't all brawn and no brain. Scarlett stopped. "What do you propose we do?"

  "Even if we could easily destroy the body, at least four
steamworks workers already know about it." She held out a hand and tabulated four fingers. "Dominic knows about it." Olga unfurled a fifth finger. "With him knowing, everyone might as well know."

  "It'll take the coroner about an hour to identify the body with a DNA test," Scarlett said. "I guess the best we can hope for is that the victim isn't a relative of anyone from the administration."

  "Any chance the coroner will miss the slash marks on the throat?"

  Scarlett shook her head. "Not a one. Coroner Everett has all sorts of gadgets for examining a body. I don't think I could slip a hangnail past him."

  Olga pressed her lips into a thin line. "Looks like we don't have much choice but to go forward and see what the governor and his boys throw our way for punishment."

  Scarlett's hands curled tight. "I may not be constable, but I'll find out who did this. If anyone suffers, it'll be the guilty party."

  The marshal looked at her long and hard. "I hope you're up to it, Deputy Flynn. Believe it or not, Constable Planck said the same exact thing a few times until he learned better and the system beat him down."

  Scarlett's shoulder stiffened. "I don't plan on giving up like Max did."

  "He didn't give up," Olga said. "Max figured out different ways of doing things. He once told me that if a bull charges you, you get out of the way. Trying to ram it with your own head is only going to get you killed."

  "Oh, how wise," Scarlett scoffed. "There's only so many times you can jump out of the way before you get tired. If you pick up a shovel and hit the bull in the noggin, then it won't be so eager to charge you."

  Olga snorted. "You're a stubborn one, Scarlett Flynn. I can see why Max liked you."

  Scarlett's blood went ice cold at the thought. "Don't you dare say that to me." Scarlett shuddered and backed away. "You won't ever make me like the man—not a bit. Maybe he did a few sneaky things here and there, but he was a coward, a liar, and a tool."

  Olga's smiled faded. "If it makes you sleep easier at night thinking of Max Planck as a villain, you go right ahead." She shoved past Scarlett. "I know you're the one who turned in that duffel bag with the toughsuit. You just better hope I don't ever tell anyone else or maybe it'll be your body they find down here."

  Scarlett grabbed the other woman's arm and spun her around. "You threatening me, Marshal Birch?"

  "Why would that be a threat?" Olga said. "You seem mighty proud and happy that Max's frozen corpse is lying out there on the red sands." She shoved Scarlett hard. "I'm sure you'd be just as proud for everyone to know that Deputy Flynn slayed the big bad constable." A tear mingled with the sweat on Olga's face. She reflexively wiped, but only scraped the helmet.

  "After all the horrors that man allowed to happen, I don't understand a bit how his tiny little deeds on the side made up for it." Scarlett deflated, felt her shoulders slumping. "I did what I had to do, Marshal, and I'd do it all over again." She pushed the larger woman away from her. "Let's get back to the body."

  Olga turned and walked without another word, and Scarlett couldn't help but wonder if she'd just made an enemy. Doubts about what she'd done slithered through her mind. She drove them away with the faces of the people Max allowed to die. There was one face in particular that stood out as he always did—Nathan Harris.

  The pair had been fast friends growing up and looked so similar, people often figured they were related. Like plenty of other kids, they were freezer babies, but since neither of them had siblings, it had only made them feel more like brother and sister. On the day Nathan fed the daughter, Investigator Simmons let slip that Scarlett and Nathan looked alike for a reason.

  "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but Nathan is your biological brother." Simmons tried to look sad, but his emotions were as fake as his sense of justice.

  That was the moment Scarlett decided she'd kill Max Planck.

  Chapter 12

  A blue-suited form and bubble helmet waited next to the body when Olga and Scarlett returned. The man didn't even have to turn around for Scarlet to recognize the back of that hated head.

  Investigator Simmons looked behind him as if some reptilian instinct warned him someone approached from behind. A slick smile wormed across his face. The steam was still off so Scarlett removed her helmet, letting the distant thrum of generators back into her ears.

  "I see the young deputy is already on the job," Simmons said. "What have you found?"

  Scarlett didn't see any way but the truth, so she laid it out plain as she had for Olga, but with a twist. "Looks like someone from Science Division wanted to get rid of your boy, so they drove him all the way here on a cart and killed him, hoping it'd look like someone in mechworks did it."

  Simmons twisted his lips into a smirk. "I believe you're reaching, Deputy. I find it far more likely someone in mechworks decided to kill a scientist."

  "Now, why would anyone in mechworks want to do that?" She jabbed a finger down the corridor. "A better question is how anyone from mechworks could manage to get through that thick door, into the science campus, knock out one of your people, and drag him all the back here without anyone detecting him."

  "That will be for you to find out," Simmons said.

  "I don't think that's what I'll find," she replied. "More likely, it'll be what I said."

  Simmons's smirk broadened. "Let me be clear, Deputy. I tell you what the results are, and you find the facts to support them."

  Scarlett's face burned hotter than the steam pipes. "Don't expect me to roll over like Constable Planck, Investigator. I'll find the real facts and report them straight to the governor if I have to."

  "Hmm, we'll see about that, won't we?" Simmons waved someone over. Two men in blue toughsuits like the investigator's walked over with a black body bag. "Take this corpse to Kyle Everett."

  Scarlett recognized Marshal Garth as one of the men, but not his equally bulky friend. With quiet efficiency, Garth and his companion packaged the corpse and headed back toward the stairwell.

  "I'd like to see the autopsy results," Scarlett said. "Matter of fact, I'd like to watch Coroner Everett perform the procedure."

  "Denied," Simmons said. He lifted his helmet to put it back on. "Constable Barnes will, of course, receive the results. Perhaps you should ask him."

  Scarlett ground her teeth at the thought. "I certainly will."

  Olga gave Scarlett a knowing look after Simmons left.

  Scarlett narrowed her eyes at the other woman. "Don't you dare."

  "If you insist." The marshal turned and walked toward the roar and rumble of the generators.

  For several moments, the deputy constable stood at the murder scene staring blankly at the floor as if it might offer some clue about the killer. A trickle of blood ran into the metal grating beneath the steam pipe and into a gutter. Bits of flesh looked as though they' been seared into the floor by the steam.

  If Simmons wanted blood, he'd get it, but Scarlett would make damned sure it wasn't someone innocent. She saw a worker kneeling in front of a generator about fifty yards away and considered questioning him. The thought of asking vital questions in the midst of all the steam and racket quickly changed her mind.

  "Effective next steps," she muttered and pulled on her helmet. After making her way back through the steamworks, Scarlett went upstairs and found Olga. "I need to question anyone on duty below last night."

  "I'll speak with the foreman and get you a list," the marshal replied. "Most of the night shift already punched out and left."

  Scarlett thought about the condition of the body and how fresh it looked. "What time do the shifts change?"

  "Seven." The marshal unzipped the front of her suit and fanned herself with a hand. "Some of the ones who went further out might have clocked out late."

  Even without the fancy equipment the coroner had, Scarlett felt pretty sure the victim had been killed and dumped about two or three hours ago which likely meant it had been done during the shift change. "Are the steamworks empty during the shift change?"
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  Olga waggled a hand. "More or less. Depends on if anyone is running late getting back."

  "I need to speak with anyone who was running late and passing through that general vicinity between six thirty and seven."

  "How certain are you the victim died around that time?" Olga asked. "The steamworks is a big place. I'll bet it didn't take but a minute to stage the scene."

  Scarlett shook her head. "The killer wouldn't be stupid enough to rupture that steam pipe without shutting off the valve first. If he'd broken it full of pressure, it would have completely burst."

  Olga pursed her lips. "You're right. Twisting those big valves shut takes at least a minute. Another minute or so to break a hole in the pipe."

  "We're looking for someone strong," Scarlett said.

  "Lot of strong men and women work in steamworks." Olga frowned. "Makes it easier for Simmons to pin on one of them."

  Scarlett shook her head. "Someone like Marshal Garth could have done it."

  "Good luck convincing Simmons to execute one of his pet monkeys."

  It took a second for Scarlett to connect the word to the animal at the zoo near Science Division. Calling it a zoo was a euphemism considering the experiments the scientists did on the animals there. "Who found the body?"

  "Daryl Smith found it when he was coming on shift," Olga said. "I already questioned him, but he didn't see anyone else nearby or anything unusual."

  "Who was he replacing?"

  "Aaron Vale." Olga slipped out of the toughsuit and grimaced at her sweat-soaked uniform. "Let's go back to the security office and I'll get his address for you."

  Scarlett unzipped the front of her toughsuit and enjoyed the feel of the cooler air against her skin. She couldn't imagine how awful it must be to go down there day after day in the steam, the noise, and the odor. When they reached the small office near the front gate to mechworks, Olga went inside and returned a moment later. "Block ten, building twenty-four, unit eleven." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Let's return the toughsuits."