The Blunt End of Oblivion (The Blunt End Series, Book 2)

by L. J. Simpson

  “Congratulations,” said Chuck.

  “Yes, wonderful news,” said James. “Err… how about me and Angus?”

  “Of course, I requested that you should both be part of the development team. Your knowledge and experience will be an invaluable asset. I’ve no doubt you’ll be receiving your assignment orders in the next few days.”

  “Oh, thank you,” said James. “In that case, I have a few design suggestions. First, we need to get Angus a bigger bunk. No man should have to sleep with his feet hanging off the edge of the bed.”

  “It’s all right,” said Angus. “You get used to it.”

  “Don’t your feet ever get cold?”

  “No, I wear socks.”

  “OK, forget the bunk. What we definitely need is a real canteen with a resident cook – preferably someone from the Titan Bar and Grill. A well fed crew is a happy crew, after all.”

  “I’m sure it will be,” said Penny.

  “Talking about being well fed, do you want to join us for dinner later on? I found a great little bistro up on the promenade. Not quite up to the standards of the Titan Bar and Grill but close enough.”

  “Yes, sure,” said Penny. “Around eight?”

  “Works for us.”

  “OK. See you then, but if you’ll excuse us,” said Chuck, looking at his watch. “A friend of ours is about to take a shuttle down to Atlas and we promised to see him off.”

  “Of course,” said Savage.

  “Catch you later,” said James.

  * * *

  “You’re off then,” said Chuck as DCI Burns made his way to the shuttle departure gate.

  “Yes. I’m having a few days leave in Atlas Central before I head back to Earth.”

  “And Sergeant Mullins?”

  “Already left. I understand Mrs. Mullins has been pining somewhat. Still, they won’t have to spend so much time apart in the future. Both Mullins and I have accepted permanent positions with the Atlas PD. I understand Mrs. Mullins is very much looking forward to the move. You’ll like her, I think. She reminds me very much of Dolores.”

  “Must be a wonderful woman then,” said Penny. “Any plans for your leave?”

  “No, just going to take it easy for a few days. You know, I rather think I’ve earned it. Three murders solved and Jacks back in custody. Not a bad few weeks work if I say so myself.”

  “What will happen to Jacks now?” asked Chuck.

  “He’s been taken to a secure location,” said Burns, “which I take to mean a military prison.”

  “I wonder if he thought it was all worth it?” said Penny. “He never got to spend any of that ransom money, at any rate.”

  “Did they actually pay it?” said Chuck.

  “They did indeed,” said Burns. “And there’s the interesting part. The bank account that Jacks instructed us to pay the money into belonged to the Veteran’s Association. By the time it was realized, the payment had already been made and the VA was two million credits to the good.”

  “What a strange thing to do.”

  “Maybe,” said Burns. “I think it was just Jacks’ way of thumbing his nose at the establishment. And the best part is that the VA has refused to give it back. They say the payment was made in good faith and they have no legal or moral obligation to return it. They might even be right but I guess that’s a problem for the lawyers to sort out. So, what’s in store for you two?”

  “I’m waiting for my next posting to come in,” said Penny. “I’m hoping for a berth on another frigate but I’ll take whatever comes.”

  “After your work on the Artemis I’d have thought they’d give you a choice of postings. Maybe even a tour here on Phoenix.”

  “Yeah, that’s what they said to Dolores, and look what happened to her.”

  “Point taken,” said Burns. “And how about you, Chuck?”

  “Back to O1. They’ve got me some new quarters sorted out. I’ll be shuttling over just as soon as my commission has been cancelled and I return to civilian life.”

  “Yes, well I expect you’ll both be glad to get back into a normal routine. It must have been a harrowing experience out there on the Artemis. You were both very fortunate to escape.”

  “We have Bruno to thank for that,” said Chuck. “He was the real hero. If he hadn’t stayed behind… well, you can imagine the rest.”

  “Yes,” said Burns. “It must take a very special person to commit such a selfless act. I hope he receives due recognition. I hear that the commander in chief is going to recommend a citation for Larson and the two of you as well.”

  “I’m not sure what we did to deserve it,” said Penny. “As you heard in the enquiry, in the end it was all down to Bruno.”

  “Yes, I read all the transcripts... several times. Funny thing about those reports – yours and Chuck’s, and Larson’s too in the places where they overlap. You know, they all match each other… practically word for word.”

  “Oh really?” said Chuck innocently.

  “Oh, yes. If I didn’t know better I’d almost say they’d been rehearsed.” Burns let the words hang in the air for a few seconds, an inscrutable look on his face. “When you’re a policeman you tend to pick up on that sort of thing. It generally points to… well, some kind of collusion. But then I wondered why any collusion would possibly be necessary after such a successful mission.”

  “And?”

  “Well there’s the funny thing – I couldn’t come up with a single idea. Perhaps I’m losing my touch. Or maybe you were all just very astute witnesses with a fine eye for detail.”

  “That must be it,” said Penny knowingly.

  “Yes, quite… I also had a look round the Reaper before Larson departed. As Larson stated, she seemed a very capable ship. While she was alongside the Temujin I took the liberty of examining her exterior through the Temujin’s portholes. There were a lot of scorch marks on her superstructure, particularly along her leading edges – all consistent with a high speed re-entry maneuver, or so I’m reliably informed. Apparently, inflammable compounds in the atmosphere become compressed, heat up and then spontaneously ignite. I never knew that, you know. Of course, in order for that to happen you’d have to enter a planet’s atmosphere in the first place. Quite a dangerous maneuver and I’m told you’d need a very good reason to attempt it.”

  “Well, who knows what Jacks got up to while he was in charge,” said Penny. “He was always something of a maverick – the sort of person who would try something just for the hell of it.”

  “Yes… quite,” said Burns once again. He made it sound rather like pull the other one – it’s got bells on. Then he turned and gave Chuck an almost fatherly look. “Bruno Tully did try to kill you, Chuck. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Difficult to forget,” said Chuck.

  “I can imagine... Well, I expect you know what you’re doing. If there’s anything you need, you know where to find me.”

  “We do,” said Chuck.

  “And now I’d best be off or I’ll miss my shuttle back down to Atlas. Take care of yourselves. I’ll let you know when we’re due back. We must get together for dinner or something.”

  “Look forward to it,” said Chuck. Burns shook their hands and headed off to the departure gate.

  “He suspects,” said Chuck as soon as Burns was out of sight.

  “He knows,” said Penny.

  “And now he knows that we know... that he knows.”

  “Something like that. Do you think that’s the end of the matter?”

  “Probably,” said Chuck. “I’m sure he has better things to do with his time. I just hope Bruno keeps on the straight and narrow. It would be very embarrassing if like Lazarus, he was to return from the dead.”

  “Oh well, if all else fails we can always blame it on the power of prayer.”

  * * *

  The Reaper, Texiera System

  Seventy five light years distant, the Reaper lay nestled up against a small orbital depot owned by Conquest Min
erals. The depot housed a repair shop, a refueling station, a bunch of retail shops, a couple of bars and restaurants, a clinic, a mail office and even a bank. Larson considered the facilities to be somewhat austere but as far as Bruno was concerned, the place was several rungs up the cultural ladder from Charnak 3, and worlds away from places like the Last Spike. Even if the place was a little on the spartan side, the remuneration for riding shotgun on rhodium convoys was indeed generous. Bruno’s cut had been sufficient to repay Larson for the stuff he’d picked up on Picus and still have enough left over to buy a new identity to go with the clothes and all the other accoutrements he needed for his new life.

  With Larson on business somewhere within the depot, Bruno was grateful to have a little time to himself. Larson had been correct when he’d said that the Reaper was too big a ship for one. Come to that, she was almost too big for two, especially when the normal escort run lasted eighteen hours, all of which needed to be spent at instant readiness. Still and all, the pay made it all worthwhile and with the right medication you could stay alert for twenty four hours or more if necessary. After that you slept like the dead and woke up with a hangover, but there was medication for that too.

  Bruno made his way off the bridge and trotted down the stairway to his cabin, stopping off at the galley to pour himself a mug of coffee along the way. Sitting down at his desk, he rubbed his temples in an attempt to massage away the nagging headache he’d had since waking up from his extended sleep the night before. He’d felt worse – a lot worse – and the coffee certainly helped. Taking another gulp he opened up a drawer in his desk and turned to the business at hand. He withdrew a padded envelope upon which he wrote:

  To:

  Lt. C. Poulson.

  Orbital One Space Station,

  Atlas System.

  Next he removed from the drawer two small ingots of refined rhodium, requested by him in lieu of part of his earnings. Placing them both in a cloth bag, he pushed them down into the envelope along with a short handwritten note.

  Dear Chuck and Penny,

  With the Temujin arriving and everything happening so quickly, I never had the chance to thank you both for giving me another shot at the lottery of life. So here you are - thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I’m not sure if I can ever adequately repay you but please accept the enclosed as a small token of my gratitude. There is one for each of you.

  Chuck, if the rumors of your impending marriage are true, I believe there should be sufficient for a pair of mighty fine wedding rings.

  And Penny, do whatever it is that the modern ensign does with a lump of precious metal. I’m sure you’ll think of something. If not, keep it for a rainy day.

  Good luck to you both.

  Kindest regards,

  B

  Bruno sealed the envelope and slipped it into his jacket pocket. Before long he’d need to begin prepping the Reaper for departure but there was still plenty of time to slip up to the depot’s mail office. Gulping down the remainder of his coffee he left his cabin and trotted back up the stairs towards the airlock. Whistling a little tune as he went, there was a spring in his step as he headed off to the depot’s commercial sector. His flight suit gave him a slightly dashing look and the deck plating felt firm beneath his feet as he strode purposefully along.

  Passing by the depot’s one and only bakery store his head was turned by the smell of freshly baked bread. At the apex of his gaze his eyes met with the lady who helped out on the counter. Bruno had seen her several times but for the first time he was struck by how very attractive she was. He was pondering just how long it had been since he had truly noticed a woman in that way when she smiled at him – a big, wide, sparkly eyed smile. Bruno smiled back. Who wouldn’t? He carried on walking for another ten steps or so and then paused to look back over his shoulder. He still had a good hour before he needed to return to the Reaper. It occurred to him that now would be the perfect time to see what the bakery had to offer. What was the woman’s name..? Melanie, was it? He brushed his fingers through his hair, straightened his flight suit and marched back towards the bakery. She might be attached, maybe even married, but Bruno had some lost time to make up and the worst thing that could happen was that he’d come out with a bag of cream buns.

  Another chance at the lottery of life; what more could you ask for?

  And win or lose, it was great to still be in the game.

  EPILOGUE

  The Cascades Club, Atlas Central

  “Are you a member sir?” asked Michael the doorman, still cutting the same imposing figure in his immaculate black tuxedo.

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” said DCI Burns pleasantly, holding up his newly issued Cascades Club membership card for Michael to scrutinize. “It arrived just this morning.”

  Michael looked at both Burns and the card suspiciously before waving the detective inside. “Enjoy your evening, sir,” he said.

  Burns wandered through the lobby, under the sign which still read ‘Gamble responsibly’ and into the gaming rooms beyond.

  He declined a seat at one of the roulette tables, bypassed the craps tables – for no other reason than the rules were a complete mystery to him – and settled on a seat at an empty Blackjack table. Perhaps, he mused, the very seat that Jimmy Franks had sat in all those years ago, setting in motion a chain of events that had finally come full circle.

  The game did hold a certain attraction, he decided after playing half a dozen hands. Not something he’d like to make a habit of, but it might provide a pleasant diversion from the unpleasant aspects of his work – the violence, the brutality and the pain. And people like Zak Leonard.

  Concentrating on the cards he barely noticed a well dressed man sit in the next seat. He did, however, notice the slightly apprehensive look on the face of the dealer.

  “I apologize for disturbing you,” said Augustus St.Clair. “I was informed that you had become a member. I confess I was somewhat surprised, but pleasantly so,” he added.

  “Well, you know what they say…”

  “And what is that, Chief Inspector?”

  “There’s always a time to cut cards with the devil.”

  “A little unkind, don’t you think? But is seems in some respects you were right all along, Chief Inspector.”

  “Really?” said Burns. “Right about what?”

  “About one of our employees being involved in criminal activities. An unfortunate business – very unfortunate indeed. I refer of course to our former head of security, Mr. Hobbs.”

  “And of course, you had no knowledge whatsoever.”

  “As I told you before, we run a clean operation here. It would seem that Hobbs was abusing his position of trust in order to further his personal ambitions. Your superiors inform me that he was involved in any number of nefarious schemes.”

  “Murder, sabotage, coercion, bribery… need I go on?”

  “No,” conceded St.Clair. “You need not. Still, it would seem that he has paid the price for his misdemeanors.”

  “I’m a policeman, Mr. St.Clair, not judge or jury.”

  “A noble sentiment, but in this case the punishment would seem to fit the crime. Would you not agree?”

  “Perhaps, but that would really depend on whether he jumped or was pushed, wouldn’t it?”

  “I take your point, but as I understand it, several customers in the cocktail bar bear witness to the fact that he jumped to his death unaided.”

  “And how much were they paid for their trouble?”

  “I wouldn’t know what you are talking about, Chief Inspector. Though certainly, I expect that with human nature being what it is, most people would have their price. Isn’t that usually the case?”

  “Regrettably,” agreed Burns. “I wonder what was the tariff for Deputy Mayor Hanning?”

  “Ex-deputy mayor, I believe.”

  “And I suppose you’d know nothing about his fall from grace either?”

  “Only what I read in the newspapers. They were pa
rticularly scathing in their condemnation, weren’t they? It’s only to be expected, I suppose. Yet another man found guilty of abusing his position, though in the end I suspect his betrayal of the public trust weighed less heavily against him than his sordid sex life. It’s strange how people are judged, don’t you think?”

  “As I said, I’m just a policeman.”

  “Oh, come now, Chief Inspector, I think you judge people all the time – in your own way, of course. It’s important to know the measure of a man, how far he can be trusted, how far he can be pushed, whether he can be bought. Some people can’t, you know. It’s important to know who they are. People like you, Chief Inspector. Oh, don’t be modest... I won’t insult you by saying that we are very much alike because I really doubt that we are...”

  “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that,” said Burns.

  “But you do have qualities that I admire. You’d be surprised how very rare true integrity really is.”

  “Am I supposed to be flattered?”

  “No… I suspect that you already know exactly who and what you are. That also tends to be rare, believe me.”

  “And I know exactly who and what you are,” said Burns. “You’ll make a mistake, you know. One day, sooner or later, you’ll make a mistake. Everyone does. And when you do, I’ll be there, waiting.”

  “You must do as you will. The thrill is in the chase, is it not? Jack Hobbs understood that much if nothing else. Well, I mustn’t keep you any longer, Mr. Burns. Do enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  Burns watched St.Clair disappear across the floor with his minder in tow. He was unsure whether he’d just been complimented or threatened. Probably both, but it was of no matter; the game would go on. He’d watch and he’d wait. Perhaps St.Clair would make a mistake one day and perhaps he wouldn’t. And even if he did and he was brought to trial, someone else would step in to fill the void and the game would begin afresh. It was the nature of the beast. Burns would just play the cards as he was dealt them – as he would now.