The Daltus Conspiracy

by Andrew Gates

  No mention of the rejuv tech, though, Ellen noted.

  “We were also missing two personnel and a Swift X3 escort fighter. Coincidentally, that fighter was last seen with those personnel in it,” Lyla said, pointing to each of them.

  She said two personnel, not three. They don’t know about Ryan Lorde, Yuri noted.

  Yeah, I caught that too, Ellen replied.

  Should we say something?

  Ellen recalled the Governor’s warning back on Taspansa. She did not feel inclined to betray his trust.

  No, this stays with us, Ellen said.

  “I can tell you’re talking with Yuri. This isn’t my first time interrogating someone paired with an AI,” Lyla noted. “Care to keep me in the loop? I thought we had a trust between us.”

  “He was just making a comment,” Ellen explained.

  “About?”

  “About your evidence, the missing items,” Ellen continued. “The escort fighter was left behind because we were still inside it when the autopilot failed, not because we stole it, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  “If the ship’s autopilot failed, why not control it yourself?”

  “We had already gone into stasis,” Ellen explained. “Without a shipboard AI, there was no way for us to know what was happening. When we finally woke up, 1,300 years had passed. The fighter never left Red One. We were stuck on the planet. So you see, Detective Lyla, there is no way we could have been involved with any sabotage.”

  “It’s true!” Dave added. He leaned forward in his chair. “Everything Milsen said is right. We had nothing to do with it.”

  “But you two are the only ones unaccounted for at the time. That’s a bit too suspicious for me to ignore.”

  “But we were in stasis!” Ellen pushed back. “So what if we were unaccounted for?”

  “I don’t think I can dismiss that fact so casually. Your absence is a key element pointing to your involvement.”

  “Why does anyone need to be involved? Why is it so hard to believe that Vexa Corp’s technology just failed? It was the company’s first terraforming mission. Is it so outlandish to think it wouldn’t work?”

  “Because, as I said, we did an extensive investigation at the time,” Lyla started.

  “Well clearly you missed something,” Ellen shot back.

  “Look,” Dave said, jumping in, “if we weren’t in stasis, why do you think we’re still alive? No one can live that long on their own. Rejuv tech is good, don’t get me wrong. People can live hundreds of years now with minimal aging, but it’s not the same as immortality.”

  Lyla sighed, wiped her face and leaned back in the chair. She stared them down for a few moments without saying a word. Ellen and Dave stared back all the while. Eventually the woman stood up and pushed her seat in.

  “I can tell I’m not going to get anywhere with you two today,” she said.

  “Our story won’t change with time, if that’s what you’re hoping,” Ellen responded. “What we told you was the truth.”

  “We will see about that,” Lyla said. She turned to face the modded guard. “Gresham, if you’d be so kind as to show these two back to their cell.” With those words, she turned an exited through the holo-wall.

  And just like that, it was over.

  Damn, that didn’t go well, Yuri said.

  “I know,” Ellen replied aloud. “Not well at all.”

  Feathers of a Peacock

  Earth Date (Revised Julian Calendar): 04.22.5673

  Location: Captain Daltus’s Private Quarters, VSC Patriot, Outer edge of Thrace System, Vexa Corp Controlled Space

  Lyla’s heels tapped against the metal floor of the Patriot like a metronome keeping rhythm. The fabric of her white dress moved with her body in perfect synchronization. She was like a machine.

  The woman stopped before the closed door and allowed the sensors to scan her. After a few seconds, the door opened. Lyla stepped inside.

  “There you are,” the captain said. She stood ready for her with a glass of red wine in each hand. Daltus was out of uniform, wearing a black nightdress.

  “I had to make a stop,” Lyla replied. She entered the room as the door closed behind her.

  “I saw. I tracked your movements on the ATG,” Daltus explained. She handed a glass of wine to Lyla. “You stopped for a few minutes at the pharmacy, I noticed.”

  The Patriot was massive, practically the size of a small city. Though intended as a warship, it housed many non-military institutions, including shops, parks, restaurants, hotels, even its share of black market trading hubs. In a ship of this size, it could sometimes take close to 30 minutes just to get from one side to the other.

  A series of magnetically powered trains known as maglevs ran through the ship. Three parallel lines carried passengers across various parts of the Patriot faster than a typical ground car. Lyla had taken one of those trains to get here just now.

  “Keeping tabs on me?” Lyla responded as she sipped the wine. It tasted amazing, not too bitter, not too sweet. A wine this perfect could not have been from Mateo.

  “You’re usually so prompt. Any tardiness is cause for concern.” Daltus paused for a moment and stared at Lyla. A smile slowly formed on her face. “You look good,” she said, changing the subject. “I like what you’ve done with your hair.”

  “Let it grow out, you mean?”

  “I like it long. You’re not a soldier. There was no reason to keep it short. It looks good like this,” Daltus explained.

  “Thanks.” Lyla took another sip of her wine and set the glass down on a nearby table. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Looks rustic.”

  Old animal skins and taxidermized kills decorated the walls of the captain’s quarters. The prominent chandelier was built out of repurposed deer antlers. All the furniture was made of wood, real wood, not the synthesized look-alike materials found in most homes on the Patriot. This place was like a cabin in the forest, only tucked away in space ship at the edge of the system.

  The last time Lyla had been here, only half of the decorations had been installed. Daltus’s big remodeling effort had taken a few months, but it seemed she was finally finished.

  “You like it?” Daltus said with a smile. “I like to think of it as a home away from home.”

  “It’s nothing like home,” Lyla debated.

  “Home was different before the Lightspeed Wars.” Daltus lowered her head. “You never got to see that part of Mateo.”

  “I guess not,” Lyla said.

  “Well, the past is the past. There’s nothing we can do about the way things turned out.” Daltus looked up at Lyla again and took a big gulp of wine. “But we can change the future.”

  “Is that why you called for me?”

  “It is,” Daltus said. She placed her glass down on a nearby table and pulled out a chair. “Please, sit.”

  Lyla did as she was asked. Once seated, Daltus moved to a chair directly across from her and sat down. They stared at one another.

  “I want to know how the interrogation went yesterday,” she said, bluntly.

  “The interrogation.” Lyla paused and instinctively checked around her shoulders. “Is this room secure?”

  “It’s the captain’s private quarters, Lyla. It’s as secure as you’re going to get aboard this ship.”

  “Well, I have not filed an interrogation report yet. I was waiting to give it time.”

  “Time for what?”

  “My interrogation process takes longer than most. When two suspects are in question, I start by interrogating them both at the same time, just to build up a sense of safety. When they can rely on each other in the interrogation room, it makes for a very different experience. I give it a few days to let that feeling sink in.”

  “And after a few days, then you interrogate them one at a time?” Daltus asked, as if finishing her sentence for her.

  “That’s right. Suddenly their sense of safety is gone. They don’t have that other person to rely
on, but they’ve developed a need to rely on someone, so naturally that means they can only rely on me.”

  “Interesting psychology,” Daltus said. She leaned back in her chair and picked up the wine glass. “But I’m sure there is something you can tell me about your first meeting.”

  “The first interrogation was…” Lyla tried to search for the right word. “Interesting.”

  “Interesting?” Daltus took another sip.

  “I didn’t get much out of them. It didn’t last long. David Cutter admitted to forging his flight record. That was about it,” Lyla said with a sigh.

  “That’s something. At the very least, we can put him away for that.”

  “True, it’s something.”

  “I sense a but coming on.”

  “But, they make some good points,” Lyla admitted. She sighed. “We really don’t have a lot to go on. Just because the two of them were missing for all those years, it doesn’t mean they were involved in what happened. We’re jumping to a lot of conclusions here without much basis.”

  “What did they tell you?”

  “Their fighter, the one we believed they had stolen, its autopilot failed after they had gone into stasis. The pilots thought they were on their way home, but they were really just waiting there on Red One the whole time.”

  “Hmm.” Daltus chuckled and placed her glass back on the table. “That’s an interesting story. It doesn’t explain the other missing spacecraft, nor the children, nor the other equipment that was missing.”

  “You’re right, it doesn’t,” Lyla admitted. “But if we’re going to put them away, we have to prove their involvement. Right now we can’t do that with the evidence we have.”

  “And what do you think?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes.” Daltus pointed to Lyla.

  Lyla paused. She knew what she thought, but she was afraid to admit it. She nervously tapped her legs and turned away from Daltus’s gaze.

  “I… I…” she started.

  “Come on, you can tell me.”

  “Before meeting them, I assumed they were guilty,” Lyla explained. “But after my talk with them, however brief, I find myself questioning my assumption.”

  “You think they’re innocent?”

  “I am starting to think so, yes,” Lyla finally admitted. “The man, David Cutter, he kept his heart rate steady. There was something about the way he spoke. It was genuine.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re falling for this man.”

  “It’s not like that,” Lyla said. She blushed. “David Cutter is just a job.”

  “I sense another but coming on.”

  “But…” Lyla turned to face Daltus again. “I do believe him.”

  “Did you tell them this?”

  “No, of course not. You know I have a strong exterior. As far as the two of them are aware, I think they’re guilty.”

  “Good. Let’s keep it that way,” Daltus said. She stood up from her chair and pushed it in. “And as far as anyone aboard this ship is concerned, that’s how it is. You think they’re guilty.”

  “I do?”

  “You do, yes. You mentioned your interrogation process takes time. I like that. Take as much time as you need. Draw this out if you have to. Take as long as you need to get them to admit to sabotaging the equipment. The suspects must be found guilty.”

  “I don’t understand. Why is it so important that they’re guilty?” Lyla wondered.

  Daltus walked over to Lyla and stood behind her chair. The captain placed her hands on the detective’s shoulders.

  “Do you see that animal there?” she asked, pointing to stuffed bird in the corner of the room.

  “I do.” The bird was a mix of blues and greens. It had long feathers that extended down past the podium it stood on.

  “It’s called a peacock,” the captain explained. “When its feathers are fully extended, it appears strong and powerful.”

  “I see,” Lyla continued.

  “But this creature is no stronger than its predators. The feathers are merely there to create an appearance of strength.” Daltus walked around the chair until she and Lyla were face to face again. She sat atop the table and leaned down. “If this company is to survive, we need to do the same.”

  “Create an appearance of strength?” Lyla asked. She did not follow.

  “Yes,” the captain confirmed. She leaned back. “Think of it this way… Vexa Corp is going downhill. We have not turned a profit since before the Lightspeed Wars began. Mateo is now the only world this company controls, and even then, Mateo is falling apart.”

  “The company is in bad shape, I agree,” Lyla responded, “but I don’t see how this case has anything to do with that.”

  “The failed terraforming mission is widely considered the start of Vexa Corp’s downfall. From there, the dominos began to topple one by one. The Red One mission was scrapped, the Lightspeed Wars forced us to scrap all other projects in the Vexa Prime system, then Sol fell to ruin, making Thrace our company’s only remaining foothold. From there, the wars took care of the rest.”

  “And it all started with that terraforming mission gone wrong,” Lyla concluded.

  “Exactly.” Daltus smiled. “Now you’re getting it.” She shifted her body across the table, sighed, then returned her gaze to Lyla again. “Capturing the ‘people responsible’ for that failed mission would add closure to this whole issue and give people solace.”

  “So it’s a publicity stunt then, isn’t it? You want them to be guilty for appearances sake.”

  “And for the sake of both our resumes,” Daltus added. “Imagine being part of the team responsible for capturing the most notorious villains in Vexa Corp’s history.”

  “It would certainly be a good career move,” Lyla admitted. “But if they are innocent, doesn’t it seem a bit… dishonest?”

  “If they are innocent, hell, they probably are,” Daltus said. She stared down at Lyla. “Don’t tell anyone I said that, obviously.”

  “Of course,” she replied. Lyla kept her astonishment to herself, but she could hardly believe what she had just heard. She never imagined the captain would believe them innocent.

  “I know I can trust you,” Daltus said. “I trust you more than I trust anyone else aboard this ship.”

  “You’re my mother,” Lyla replied. “You know me better than anyone.”

  “And as my daughter, you know me better than anyone,” Daltus added. “So you know how important this is to me.”

  “I do.”

  “It is imperative that the suspects be found guilty. We need this, for you, for me, for our company.”

  “I understand,” Lyla said. She grabbed her wine glass again and finished what was left. “I’ll see it through. I’ll get their confession, even if it takes months.”

  The Business of Making Money

  Earth Date (Revised Julian Calendar): 04.23.5673

  Location: Thrace Center Press, Main Office, VSC Patriot, Outer edge of Thrace System, Vexa Corp Controlled Space

  Applause erupted as Natalie entered the office. The woman stopped in her tracks, overcome with surprise. Her fellow journalists stood around her, cheering. A hand among the crowd offered her a glass of sparkling white wine. Natalie instinctively accepted it, not even sure who had given it to her.

  “Wow, what’s this all about?” Natalie asked as the cheering quieted down. She studied the room, wondering if there was something different about this place.

  “Your video!” someone cheered.

  “The footage is number one on all channels!” someone else added.

  Rina pushed her way through the crowd of journalists. She wore a white blazer and flat shoes that did nothing to enhance her already small stature. Her short space-black hair barely covered the bottoms of her ears, though the bright red in her lips could be seen from far and wide.

  “There she is!” Rina said with a smile on her face. She approached Natalie and patted her on the back.

 
“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Natalie replied, innocently.

  “Natalie, Natalie, you’re a star around here! People have been watching your footage non-stop for the past 48 hours. Haven’t you seen?”

  “I stay away from work on my days off,” she explained.

  For Natalie, work meant news, any news of any kind. Being bombarded with media non-stop was hard enough to deal with in the office. She needed some time to get away from it all. When she went home at the end of the shift, she put herself in isolation. It was as if she were on a faraway planet with no access to the ATG.

  “All major news outlets have been distributing your shots. Nobody else caught Milsen’s struggle as well as you did. The part where she got knocked to the head was particularly good. Your footage is the most played in the Thrace system,” Rina said.

  “So?”

  “So… anytime any other outlet wants to distribute your footage, they have to buy the rights from us. That’s how the business works, Natalie. Thrace Center Press has made more in the last 48 hours than it does in most weeks.”

  “That’s good.”

  “That’s very good!” Rina agreed.

  “To Natalie!” someone in the crowd cheered.

  Drinks rose to the air. Following the lead, Natalie lifted her own glass, then took a sip. She had to admit, the sparkling wine tasted delicious. It must have come from somewhere beyond Mateo.

  “Thank you, thank you,” Natalie said as she lowered her glass. All eyes remained on her. “I don’t know what to say. I was just doing my job. I’m glad you liked the footage.”

  “Thrace likes the footage. It’s time to celebrate!” Rina said.

  Natalie took another sip of her drink and leaned in closer to Rina.

  “I was actually hoping to talk to you about that,” she said in a hushed tone.

  Rina stared back at her. The smile across her face quickly disappeared.

  “Come on, Natalie. Don’t complicate things. Why do I get the sense I won’t be happy about this?”

  “This isn’t the right setting. Can I talk to you in private?”