by Jake Bible
“Piece of shit,” he muttered when the caff was done pouring.
He grabbed the cup, sniffed it, cringed, shrugged, took a sip, and cringed some more before he downed the rest of the contents in one long gulp.
“GVD Kalaka?” a voice asked from a few steps behind him.
Kalaka instantly went for his pistol on his hip, but a very strong, very steady hand closed over his and a deep voice whispered in his ear, “No.”
“How about you turn around and see what you’re reacting to before you shoot up a hospital waiting room, GVD Kalaka,” the first voice said.
The hand on his let go and Kalaka slowly turned to face the two beings that were behind him.
“Let me guess,” Kalaka said, some of, but not even close to all, of the tension leaving his shoulders. “FIS? IID, right?”
“Yes,” the first voice, a Tcherian woman dressed in a cookie-cutter black uniform that announced zero allegiance to any department, yet screamed Galactic Fleet. She was middle-aged and had a streak of red hair that ran down the middle of her green-skinned head. Her eyes were golden and bright, staring straight at Kalaka.
The other being was a tall man of many mixed humanoid races. A thin sheen of silver fur covered the man’s skin that wasn’t covered by the same pointless uniform as the one the woman wore. Kalaka sneered at the man, his pure blood prejudice showing plainly for all to see.
“My name is Agent Quorp,” the woman said. “This is Agent Rom’Tal. And, yes, we are with the Fleet Intelligence Service, Internal Investigations Division. May we ask you a few questions?”
“Should I have my union rep with me?” Kalaka asked. “Are these questions that will bite me in my furry ass down the line?”
“Only if you have something to hide, Detective,” Agent Quorp replied.
“Oh, I have plenty to hide,” Kalaka said. “I have so much to hide I doubt I could find it all in my lifetime if I tried. You all are welcome to try.”
“I’m sorry, Detective,” Agent Rom’Tal said. “But are you admitting to corruption?”
“Don’t play me, skinny,” Kalaka said. “You’ve read my file, you’ve read my secret file, you’ve probably already interviewed a few of my CIs. You know exactly who I am and what I’m about. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go check on Lt. McDade then I’m going to have a very long talk with Mess’a Tikk.”
Kalaka tried to push past the two. Agent Rom’Tal’s thin fingers pressed against Kalaka’s chest, stopping him instantly.
“Someone works out,” Kalaka said. “Want to get out of my way now? Or do I have to say please?”
“You can visit Lt. McDade when we are done talking. I hear she is still in her med pod. Some of the wounds were quite severe,” Agent Quorp said.
“I know. I was there when they happened,” Kalaka snapped.
“As for Mess’a Tikk,” Agent Quorp continued. “It would be better that you not have any contact with that suspect.”
“That a direct order from Captain Jorg?” Kalaka asked.
“No,” Agent Quorp replied.
“Galactic Vice Division headquarters?”
“No.”
“GV Fleet headquarters?”
“Again…no.”
“So you’re making this call on your own?” Kalaka asked, looking back and forth from agent to agent. “The two of you have decided how an active murder investigation will be handled?”
“No, but it has been suggested by the Jafla Base PD Murder Department that perhaps you would be more of a hindrance than a help,” Agent Quorp said. “Your subjectivity might taint the suspect’s recollections of events.”
“My subjectivity? You mean the fact I had to fight the crazy bitch off before she could slice and dice Lt. McDade into tater tots?”
“I’m not familiar with tater tots, but I will assume they are small in size,” Agent Quorp said. “And, yes, that is exactly why you should be kept away from the suspect.”
“She talk yet?” Kalaka asked. “Give her reasoning for killing S’lunn? Or why she killed Knowles too? She did that, right? Same MO and the two were linked.”
“We’ll ask the questions,” Agent Rom’Tal snapped.
“Answer mine and I’ll answer yours,” Kalaka said and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “But I want some better caff than this crap. How about you treat me to breakfast?”
Kalaka brought up a chrono holo and nodded.
“Yep. Breakfast time. We can eat in the hospital canteen. How’s that sound?”
“We could do that,” Agent Quorp said.
Agent Rom’Tal shot her a look, but she dismissed it with a blink of her eyes. He grumbled then nodded.
Kalaka looked back and forth between them and smiled. He could already tell they were new as partners and still figuring out the pecking order. Agent Quorp obviously had seniority, but Agent Rom’Tal wasn’t one to give up control on formality. Their interpersonal dynamic might as well have been blazing above their heads in a ten-foot-high neon sign.
Kalaka grinned at the perfect opportunity.
“Something funny?” Agent Rom’Tal asked.
“Plenty,” Kalaka said. “You want me to lead the way to the canteen?”
“Please,” Agent Quorp said. “Hopefully, there will be a quiet corner we can converse in.”
“Quiet corner? You’ve never been in a Jafla Base hospital before then,” Kalaka said and laughed. “This is where emergencies go and those that can’t afford a home med pod. Which is the majority of the labor force on Jafla. This should be eye-opening for you two.”
They made their way to the lift and descended three floors to the canteen level. The lift doors opened onto pure chaos.
“I told you,” Kalaka said as he wove through the hurrying and scurrying beings of all races.
The place was an entire level, open from end to end across the breadth of the hospital. Buffet lines ran the length of the room, bracketed by row after row of cafeteria style tables. There was no quiet corner.
“The noise is better cover,” Kalaka said, his voice raised so the agents behind him could hear. “Let’s grab some plates and have a squat over there. See the open area by that window? Good as place as any.”
Agent Rom’Tal objected, but Kalaka didn’t catch the words as a mother holding six screeching children in her many arms nearly sent him falling back on his ass as she chased after a seventh offspring.
Kalaka grabbed a plate, filled it with whatever was at hand, not bothering to look at labels or contents of the steam trays, then worked his way to what had been three empty seats. A Gwreq with a bandage wrapped around his head and a second one wrapped around his ribs was sitting in one of the seats.
“Fuck off,” the Gwreq said before Kalaka was within a meter of him.
“GVD,” Kalaka responded. “Get your stone ass up and out of my way or I’ll haul you in.”
“For what?” the Gwreq demanded.
“Being ugly and pissing me off,” Kalaka said. “Move!”
“You want me to kill you?” the Gwreq snarled.
“Those bandages are fake,” Kalaka said and his badge holo flashed from his wrist. “But nice try.”
The Gwreq swore at Kalaka as he stood up and shoved past, nearly knocking Agent Rom’Tal over. The Gwreq dared the agent to react by giving him a death glare. Kalaka snickered and took a seat.
“Plop it down, agents,” Kalaka said as he dug into his food. “Damn! I forgot caff. Be right back.”
The agents had just sat down. Kalaka was up and weaving through the crowd before the two could get back to their feet. He headed straight for the caff machines then took a right as soon as he was near the lift, opting for the convenience of the stairs. He shoved the door open and hurried onto the landing.
“Here,” Kalaka said, handing a stack of chits to the Gwreq who had only moments before been cursing Kalaka up and down. “Make sure those agents don’t make it out of this canteen for at least thirty minutes. Can you do that, Bofe?”
“Can do, Kalaka,” Bofe said as he pocketed the chits. He pointed at his bandages. “Too much?”
“A little, yeah,” Kalaka said. “But they confuse the Hells out of people, so keep them on. Thirty minutes.”
“Thirty minutes,” Bofe said as Kalaka rushed up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.
He reached Angie’s floor and slowed himself, taking several deep breaths so he didn’t look like he’d come sprinting from somewhere. He eased the door open and casually walked out into the corridor.
A quick scan of the posted chart by the nurse’s station and he knew the exact room to visit. The number on the outside of the room was lit up green when Kalaka reached it, telling him the med pod session was done and the patient was awake.
“You decent?” Kalka asked as he entered the room without knocking. “Not that I give a shit.”
Angie stood next to the room’s med pod, pulling on a generic, hospital-issued bra.
“Fuck off, Kalaka,” Angie said, but didn’t hurry. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for a thank you,” Kalaka said.
“Thank you.”
“Damn that was a lot easier than I thought it would be,” Kalaka said. “Now what will I do with the other twenty minutes?”
“Where the Hells are my clothes?” Angie asked, spinning about. “You see them anywhere?”
“Here,” Kalaka said, opening a compression pouch and pulling out an assortment of women’s clothing. “They incinerated your stuff. It was shredded and soaked in your blood. Did the doctors mention how many lacerations you had?”
“Seventy-five, at least,” Angie said. She took the clothes, chose a pair of pants and a T-shirt. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Kalaka said, watching her get dressed. “Can you hurry it up? We’re on a schedule.”
“We are?”
“FIS agents. Two of them from IID,” Kalaka said. “I planned for this, but my guy can’t hold them forever. They’re going to head here first then Mess’a Tikk’s.”
“She’s alive?” Angie asked as she buckled her pants and held out her hands. “Shoes?”
“Boots,” Kalaka said and extracted three pairs from the pouch. “I didn’t know your size.”
“Those will do,” Angie said as she took the middle pair and slipped them on sans socks. “Where’s Mess’a?”
“Next floor up,” Kalaka said. “Ready?”
“Let’s go,” Angie said.
The two left the room without making eye contact with anyone. Not that anyone cared. The hospital personnel were overworked and underpaid, so they had better things to do than bother with a couple of beings that were close to sprinting down the corridor.
Kalaka and Angie took the stairs to the next floor. They exited onto a scene that was not very comforting.
“You know any of those uniforms?” Angie asked as they stared at close to a dozen Jafla PD officers milling about in front of an obviously guarded door. “Can you get us in?”
“Hold on,” Kalaka said. “Let’s see who we have here…”
“Tick tock.”
“There,” Kalaka said. “Those two. Stay put.”
Kalaka strolled over to a pair of officers that were leaning against the wall opposite the room door. They saw him when he was a meter away and both rolled their eyes.
“What?” the first officer asked, a short man with a serious gut pudge. He looked like a small, shaved Urvein, but was obviously human. “You aren’t supposed to be here, Kalaka.”
“Can you get me in for five minutes?” Kalaka asked, ignoring the greeting.
“Does it look like we can?” the second officer, a woman that appeared to be made of glass, asked.
“Come on, you two,” Kalaka said. “You want the same holiday gifts this year or what?”
The two officers looked at each other then shrugged.
“Give me a second,” the first officer said and crossed the hall to the room door.
He conferred with the officer standing guard directly in front of the hospital room door. The two men whispered back and forth then shook hands. Something obviously passed from one hand to the other. Then the first officer came back and said, “Five minutes. Move ass, Kalaka.”
“Great. Thanks,” Kalaka said and caught Angie’s eye. She hurried to meet him as he moved to the door.
A few of the other officers gave the two some questioning looks, but when the on-duty guard stepped aside, no one said a word.
They were inside.
29.
Mess’a Tikk was contained not only within a med pod, but also within a security shield. The shield ticked and crackled with electricity and Angie knew well enough to keep a good foot or two back or the energy would slowly start to burn the hair off her body. Kalaka must have known that too because he kept Angie between himself and the shield.
“Mess’a?” Angie asked. “Can you hear us?”
“Yes…” Mess’a replied so quietly that she was almost impossible to hear.
“Have you already been answering questions?” Angie asked. “Did the Jafla PD Murder Department speak with you?”
“No…” Mess’a said. “No one talks to me…”
“This is good,” Kalaka whispered behind Angie. “Also typical. Close to ten hours in the pod and no one’s spoken to her. Lazy ass PD.”
“Shut up,” Angie snapped then focused on Mess’a once again. “Mess’a? Can you tell me why you killed S’lunn?”
“Oh… Poor Tipo…” Mess’a responded. “He was always nice to me…”
“Yes, I bet he was, but why did you kill him?” Angie asked again. “And why did you kill Etch Knowles?”
“Etch Knowles!” Mess’a spat. She thrashed a bit then tired herself out and went limp, her Groshnel body almost flat against the bottom of the med pod. “He killed my Xew…”
“No, Mess’a, he was there to help catch who killed your husband,” Angie said. “It was S’lunn that sold Xew out to the Willz Syndicate.”
“Oh… Yes… I knew that…” She gasped a few times, her body filling with air for a few seconds before deflating once more. “Tipo said to kill Etch Knowles. He said Etch was bad, but Tipo was bad…”
“Tipo S’lunn told you to kill Etch Knowles? You’re certain of this?” Angie asked.
“He whispered in my ear night after night after night after night…” Mess’a sighed. “I dreamt of the killing… Then the dream came true…”
“Sleep conditioning,” Kalaka said quietly. “That sick bastard.”
“Okay, so S’lunn told you to kill Etch Knowles, but why did you kill S’lunn?” Angie pressed.
“It was the plan…” Mess’a replied.
“Yes, it was the plan. Good,” Angie said encouragingly. “Who made the plan?”
“He did…”
“Who did?”
“Him…”
“Right, but what is his name? Can you tell me his name?” Angie pressed.
“Not…supposed to…”
Mess’a’s eyes fluttered and closed. Then they shot open.
“Loose ends!” Mess’a yelled, her entire body inflating to almost fill the med pod.
“Oh, shit,” Kalaka said. “We should go.”
Alarms sounded and the pounding of feet could be heard out in the corridor.
“Yeah, we should,” Angie agreed.
They turned to leave, but the door burst open before they could reach it.
“Kalaka!” a plainclothes officer shouted, blocking Angie and Kalaka’s exit. “And Lt. McDade! Seven Satans, what are you doing in here? You were this woman’s victim. You are tainting this case in ways you can’t imagine.”
“Oh, I can imagine,” Angie said to the man. “I also don’t care. We have a small window to nab this son of a bitch. Whoever is pulling the strings could already be long by now.”
“The hangars are closed except for essential space travel,” the plainclothes officer said. “No one is leaving Jafla.”
“Y
eah, because bribing a dockhand to get onto a cargo barge is never a thing around here,” Kalaka said.
“Kalaka, you are already in a lot of trouble,” the plainclothes officer said. “You should stay quiet.”
“We’re leaving,” Angie said and squared her shoulders. “Unless you really want to try to stop us. Word of warning, I’m fresh out of a med pod and feel like punching someone. Hard.”
“What did you ask her?” the plain clothes officer asked. “What did she say?”
“The woman is nuts,” Kalaka said, nodding at Mess’a who had stopped yelling, but was still thrashing in the med pod.
A doctor and two nurses rushed into the room, the doctor yelling over his shoulder, “I always have access, you buffoon!” Then he saw everyone else. “Who are you people? Get out so I can attend to the patient!”
“Don’t have to tell us twice,” Kalaka said and grabbed Angie by the arm, yanking her past the plainclothes officer and out of the room.
The two FIS agents were at the end of the corridor, but looking in the opposite direction.
“That them?” Angie asked as she followed Kalaka to the closest corner and down a side corridor.
“That was them,” Kalaka said. “And they’re not just here for me.”
“They’re here because this turned into a galactic mess,” Angie said. “I’ll be lucky to get out of this without either a demotion or an assignment to some Division on the Edge. Or both.”
Angie grabbed Kalaka and pulled him to a stop.
“What’s the plan? Where are we going?” she asked.
“The plan is to find out who put Mess’a up to killing S’lunn the same way she killed Knowles,” Kalaka said.
“That’s not a plan,” Angie said. “How are we going to find this person? Where are we going to base? We can’t go back to Squad headquarters. We can’t use your apartment or the place I was camped out at. And we need access to the GV mainframe. All of that is blown.”
“Yep,” Kalaka agreed. “I know a safe house, but that doesn’t fix the mainframe access issue. Either of us tries to log in and we’ll be found in minutes.”
“And we’re probably already out of time,” Angie said. “The person behind this is long gone.”
“Maybe,” Kalaka said. “Let’s get out of this hospital and someplace we can relax and have several drinks.”