by RJ Johnson
She was taller than most Consortium folk Meade had encountered so far. She stood at least six feet tall, and wore a white jumpsuit that accentuated every curve the woman had to offer and there was certainly no shortage of those. Her hair was the most striking thing about her, it was long, wavy and purple with red streaks streaming through it. He cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes.
"I ain't here to loot his stuff if that's what you're worried about." Meade said, still suspicious.
Her laugh was musical and intoxicating. She approached Meade and he caught her scent, his knees going weak and blood rushing to his nether regions. He rarely took the time to look at women as something to be desired, not since his last relationship had gone so terribly wrong. He had sort of just lost interest in the fairer sex. After losing Ellie, no one ever seemed to make him sit up and take notice, besides, it wasn’t as if he were gay, he just didn't care to put any effort into finding anyone yet. This woman however made him reconsider everything he had maybe missed out on the last few years. She was incredibly sexy and obviously knew she could turn his brain to mush. She took the container from his hand and examined it.
"Of course you aren't." She murmured in his ear. "You're that private investigator here to look into Sinjakama's death."
"That's what they tell me." Meade stammered. He shook his head. What was wrong with him?
She returned the container of Osmium to Meade and turned to sit on the bed, stretching out, displaying her body. "I miss this bed. There is nothing like it in Downtown."
"Who are you exactly?" Meade asked, his head clearing.
"My name?" She purred as she turned to face Meade again. "I am Vicktoria Vlachenko, Sinjakama was a very good friend of mine."
"Friend?" Meade asked cocking his head. "You mean..."
"The man was lonely." She shrugged. "And I am just a girl who has needs."
"You were his..."
"Prostitute, whore, lady of the night, purveyor of the world's oldest profession, call it what you will. I myself never liked labels all that much." She replied lazily. Her smile was the thing of legend and Meade went weak in the knees as she studied him with her bright green eyes. This was the type of woman that men went to war for.
"I like to think of myself as a companion for men who have too much money." She rose from the bed and brushed by Meade as she approached the mirror on the wall. Her body brushed against his and he felt her curves rub against his body as the heat from her body radiated onto him. The honeysuckle smell of her hair floated around him and he struggled to focus.
"I suppose that's one way to look at it." Meade mused as he turned to watch her primp in front of the mirror.
She turned to face him smirking, "You disapprove?"
Meade shook his head, "Course not. In this life, any way to increase the balance in your credit account is a good way to make it. Hard enough to make a living these days, especially with outdated moral standards that never did anyone any good far as I can tell."
She laughed and Meade swallowed. This woman was good at her job that much was for sure. He hadn't ever paid for sex before - his charm and good looks had never left him with a lack of options - but, this woman standing before him looked like she was worth every penny.
"You're more evolved than most Mr. Meade." She tittered.
"What can you tell me about Sinjakama?" He asked suddenly. If she was here, he may as well take advantage of what she knew.
"Telling you anything would violate my standards of client privilege." She said smiling.
"The man's dead, and I promise I'm not looking for anything on the man's predilections in the bedroom." Meade replied.
"Information has a price Mr. Meade." She extended her ArmBar and the message was clear. Everyone paid - no exceptions.
He grinned and typed quickly depositing a few hundred credits from his expense account authorized by Sinjakama's son. What the hell, the man could afford it.
She examined her balance and nodded in satisfaction.
"What would you like to know?"
"Who killed him?" Meade asked quickly hoping to take her off guard.
"He killed himself, died in the accident, there’s all sorts of stories floating around isn’t there?" She replied just as quick. Meade bit the inside of his lip, she was going to be tougher than he thought.
“Which one do you think is the truth?”
She laughed again. Damn that girl, Meade thought to himself. He wasn’t gonna get much out of her at this rate. He decided on a different tack.
“You must have some idea.”
“I was told he had business in the Pit. Next thing I know he’s dead, and they tell me it was from a tragic fall. Whether Sinjakama wanted to end his life or not isn’t for me to say. I tend to think that anyone is capable of suicide.”
"You don't really believe that, do you?"
"Consortium authorities have never been known for their honesty, especially when the facts aren't in their best interests. A suicide would reflect badly on Kochei’s administration of Rosetta." Vicktoria said as she gazed into Meade's eyes. "So when the Consortium releases any information about something like Sinjakama's death, I tend to imagine that they have an agenda. Saves me a lot of time from believing any bullshit."
"Reasonable conclusion." Meade mused. "What about Sinjakama himself?"
"What would you like to know?"
"What was he like?"
She sighed, and a shadow crossed her face. "He was kind. Kinder than most men I work with. He always paid in advance, and never asked for anything that was out of bounds."
"You cared for him." Meade observed.
She looked up and her face hardened. "You don't care for anyone in my line of work. I said he was kind. He was only a regular paycheck that was easier than most men I work with in Downtown."
"What about friends?" Meade quizzed, "What kind of social life did he have?"
"He didn't have one so far as I knew. Our business was conducted with the understanding that I was to never reveal my involvement with him with anyone."
"'Cept someone with the right amount of credits." Meade immediately regretted saying that. She looked hurt by his not so subtle accusation and Meade felt guilty. He might've gone too far with that one.
"The man is dead. I hardly think his reputation can be sullied any more than it already has been."
"So you do believe he committed suicide." Meade replied.
"I sometimes see one of the security men..."
"In your 'official' capacity?" Meade asked.
"Yes." She replied simply. "He was one of the first responders to the reports of Sinjakama's death. He said the scene left nothing to the imagination and that Sinjakama had taken his own life."
"Seems like there'd be a hundred easier ways to kill yourself on a station like Rosetta." Meade mused, "Breathing vacuum, an opiate overdose, vaporize oneself in front of a main drilling mechanism..."
"Yes, but none of those methods have quite the same impact as tossing yourself off a thousand foot ridge." She noted. "There's a certain amount of drama that anyone who takes that step wants to accomplish. And when you're in pain, the only thing you want people to realize is how much pain you're truly in." She approached Meade and stared into his eyes. "For instance, your eyes speak of a deep pain within you." She ran her finger up his shirt and caressed his cheek. "I can see it deep within your soul, a pain you attempt to deny on a daily basis, but still no matter how much you drink, fight or gamble, you will never escape that pain. Something in your past, a death of a family member?" She quizzed, her eyes narrowing. Meade didn't react and she smiled as she continued to caress his cheek.
"Perhaps it was a pain once forgotten, but dredged up?" She whispered, bringing her face close to his ear. He could feel her breath, hot and heady. He swallowed.
"Ahhh..." She murmured. "A lost love fuels your pain. There isn't a more potent fuel for the fire of loss than a love gone wrong." She withdrew her head from his ear and stared at Meade with her
deep blue sea eyes. Meade was completely and totally under her spell, and the worst part was, he didn't mind. He wanted to tell her everything about her. How he lost her and how scared he was that he'd never feel love again. He felt a strong urge to take her in his arms, kiss her deeply, and take her on Sinjakama's bed. Evidence be damned.
"What happened?" Vicktoria asked.
"She... died." Meade replied ashamed. "It was my fault."
"What happened?"
"It was during a case..." Meade began hesistantly. "She was helping me find something the Coalition had lost and..." He closed his eyes, and watched her fall, slipping from his grasp as he struggled to hold onto her. But, he hadn't been strong enough, their rebreather suits slippery with the oil and grease from the ORI mining equipment that had exploded only moments before. She always fell, panicking and screaming. For several weeks, he would wake from a nightmare remembering her fall in a cold sweat, her screams echoing in his ears.
"Did she suffer?"
Meade shook his head. "She fell into the path of a sonic drill."
"Oh." Living on Rosetta, Vicktoria would know the consequences of that. The technology for the sonic drills on Rosetta were similar to the ones used on Mars. Any miner around one of them knew what happened if you got in the path of one of them. Sufficed to say, there wouldn't be much left of your body for anyone to bury. Meade shook the memory off. He'd had enough reminicing for the day.
"What about you?" Meade challenged. "Something had to bring you here to Rosetta."
Vicktoria's eyes narrowed and she stepped back from Meade turning her back to him.
"My parents were killed by the radiation after Last War." She replied. "I was raised by a very kind man who brought me here as a child and he raised me as his own."
"And he doesn't mind your line of work?"
She laughed. "You said it best Mr. Meade. You have to make a living somehow, and I dislike how the Pit smells."
"True enough." Meade agreed his nose wrinkling at the memory of the stench from his visit.
She turned back and put on her most seductive look. "It seems we share something in common. We both lost someone we loved."
Meade didn't reply, and she approached him, her hips swaying. She caressed his cheek and adjusted his jacket, slipping her hand into his shirt and rubbed his chest.
"I find intimacy helps me forget those I have lost." She purred.
Meade was instantly back under her spell. He hadn't realized how much he had missed the touch of a beautiful woman.
A small cough interrupted them and Meade was shaken back to reality as he glanced at the door and saw the source of their interruption. Emeline stood there next to Amla.
"Am I interrupting?" She asked somehow sounding annoyed and amused at the same time.
Vicktoria drew away from Meade, smiling as she approached Emeline standing in the door. "Of course not, Mr. Meade and I were just discussing Master Sinjakama's unfortunate death."
Meade cleared his throat and turned beet red. "She, uhh... knew Sinjakama Sr. before his death."
Emeline’s eyes moved up and down over the prostitute from Downtown, "I'm sure she did."
"Mr. Meade," Vicktoria purred, "If there's any way I can assist you further in your investigation, please don't hesitate to let me know."
"I... ahh... of course." Meade stammered. Damn this woman.
Vicktoria winked at Meade and his heart melted again. She nodded politely at Emeline and retreated from Sinjakama's quarters, oblivious to Emeline staring daggers at the woman.
"Investigation going well?" Emeline asked Meade sarcastically.
"She wasn't much help if that's what you're asking." Meade shot back, his face slowly returning to normal. "All she could tell me was how he enjoyed her company and that the story of his suicide was corroborated by other members of the security team who found his body."
"Well, if there's one thing I know, it's that beautiful women can get even the most stalwart of men to spill their guts between the sheets." Emeline remarked.
"She's... good at her job, I'll give you that." Meade agreed.
"I bet." Emeline replied sarcastically.
"Aren't you supposed to be getting some sleep?" Meade asked Emeline as she walked into the room.
"I tried, but the shot of Amphetimax I took before we landed will keep me up for another another eight hours." Emeline replied, "So, I took a shower and decided to rejoin you to help with your investigation. That's what I'm here for isn't it?"
"Of course." Meade answered. "But, too much of that damned amphetimax will fry your nervous system, I don't need you burned out."
"Let me worry about my health." She slapped him on his arm. "I'm not gonna miss any of this adventure."
Meade accepted that and knew arguing would do him no good. "If you say you're all right, then I believe ya."
"I'm all right." She said her voice strong.
Meade tapped on his ArmBar and brought up everything he had found out so far. "Only thing you've missed was Suresh and me checking out the Pit where Sinjakama's body was found."
"You find anything?" She asked as his ArmBar projected the scene in front of them.
"I just don't get why his body was intact for the Autodoc to scan. A fall from that height should have splattered him all over the bottom." Meade mused stroking his chin. "Only thing I can think of is the gravity plates were turned down for the overnight shift."
Emeline shrugged. "It's not unheard of, to save energy and whatnot, but on a rig like Rosetta and the sort of energy resources available here there'd be no reason to."
"That's what I figured too." Meade shook his head. "It makes no sense."
"What about logs?" Emeline ventured. "If the GWPs were turned down, there'd be some sort of record of it."
"I'm waiting to hear back from Omar on that."
"Omar?" She asked with a quizzical expression on her face.
"He's the security chief here on Rosetta." Meade answered. "He ain't exactly thrilled to have us on board, so I'm not counting on getting help from him anytime soon."
"Hard to blame him." Emeline replied. "He probably sees you as a threat."
"Little ol' me?" Meade burst out laughing.
"Well, not just you." Emeline replied hotly. "I mean, Sinjakama died on his watch. His son - our boss - has a lot of pull with Consortium higher ups back on the Homeworld. One word from him, Omar is probably on his way out the nearest airlock sans rebreather suit."
Meade frowned. It was a good point. "Less information for me, the more likely, I'll send Junior on his way home."
She nodded and touched his arm, "What does your gut tell you?"
Meade shrugged. "My gut says there's a whole lot more to the story that Koschei and Omar have spun for the Consortium folk back on the Homeworld."
"Then go with that." She advised. "I've never seen it steer you wrong yet."
"True 'nuff." He replied, "Course, it's also gotten me in a bit more trouble than I'd like to admit."
"Aren't you here to cause trouble?"
Meade smiled at that. "Now that there is an excellent point." He readjusted his hat. "I think it's high time we meet this Koschei fellow and ask him a few questions. Maybe we can get a few straight answers about Sinjakama's death."
"I wouldn't count on it." Emeline predicted.
"Then I guess we'll have to settle for causing the man some trouble." Meade stated, a sly grin appearing on his face. He was never happier than when he could cause the Consortium a headache.
Chapter Twelve
Koschei's master suite was located on the very top deck of Rosetta. Most of the mining colony had been carved into the safety and security of the asteroid, but Koschei's living quarters were located on the top deck of the asteroid, underneath an enormous dome designed to protect the enigmatic trillionaire from the dangers of space. The dome was made of the same materials designed to protect the Martian colony from cosmic radiation and minor meteor storms that were so common here out in the outskirts
of the asteroid belt.
The Rampet's shield opened as Meade, Suresh, Amla and Emeline exited looking around them in awe. Meade was dumbstruck. What he saw was beyond anything he had ever experienced or seen built by human hands before.