13 Degrees of Separation

by Hechtl, Chris

  “Need air?” Nohar asked. It was a little rank. There were some flies, but who ever had done this had picked the bones clean. They'd even broken them open and sucked the marrow out. Pretty gruesome. Possibly the work of scavengers, or so the humans would say. A denning scavenger maybe, but then again there wouldn't be so many bones. A scavenger took what it could, usually easy parts and left the torsos and other bits behind. Here he could see ribs and vertebra. He'd checked too, this continent had some predators at one time, but over hunting had killed them off centuries ago.

  Besides, no predator would bring its' game back to its' den. No, that would attract other competing predators in the area to where you sleep. If there were cubs that would be considered a bad thing, competitors were down on competition.

  That thought hit and resonated through him. He winced, remembering what he'd said to the humans.

  No, this was the mark of a predator of another kind, a sick one who needed killing. “Come on, let's go call it in,” he said. “And then listen to them try to pin this on me,” he grumbled.

  “Or me,” the human said with a sigh.

  Chapter 6

  A game warden arrived 2 hours later, just as the golden sun began to set. It was quite a scene with the trees and such, but it was spoiled by the nervous warden who confiscated their weapons and then sat on them through the night. Nohar fumed, hungry and angry over the treatment, but resigned to it. In the morning the area became a 3 ring circus as investigators drove up the narrow trails. When the trail ended they had to come in on foot, many of the city slickers of course got lost. Magnum was asked to fly them in but he spread his hands and said he was out of fuel. He had to show the game warden in order for them to get them off his back.

  It took all day, and endless interviews to get the situation sorted out. Nohar and Magnum were separated several times, and monitored when they were put together. Finally, almost reluctantly their weapons and ID's were given back to them and they were allowed to leave.

  They got back to the city near sunset. Magnum dropped Nohar off at the city limits and then headed to his estate. “Must be nice,” Nohar said, climbing out of the car.

  “Yeah well, not mine. A media mogul owns it. I'm a security consultant on the estate. He only uses it for big shindigs,” the human PI said.

  “Ah, wants a house sitter. Still, nice,” Nohar said, slamming the door. “I'm going to do some more research in my files,” he said.

  “I think that would be wise,” Magnum said, bobbing a nod. “I'll look you up in a day or two. I need to put some face time in at the estate. I left Zeus and Apollo in charge. Hopefully the two Neodobermans haven't had a party.”

  “Ah, well,” Nohar snorted stepping back. “While the boss is away...”

  Magnum laughed and waved a hand as he lifted off. Nohar turned away from the dust and debris the machine kicked up and then dusted himself off with his good hand. “Great,” he grumbled, “he couldn't even drop me off near a damn bus stop,” he muttered, orienting himself and then hiking in to the city.

  On his way he stopped at a news stand and picked up a paper. He scanned it quickly and then tucked it under his arm. He let his implant computer process the text and then read it to him.

  When it started he was immediately annoyed at the paper, the bankruptcy of a hydrogen dirigible company after lawsuits from an accident last year was the front page leading article, not the damn serial killer.

  Then again, maybe it was a good thing he mused. He was fairly certain it was a Neo now, most likely a bear or cat. It could be a human masquerading as one, that had happened several times before, but he doubted it. No, the killer was too good, and the lack of finger prints...

  The forensics people could easily overlook hairs from a Neo too, mixing them up with the Neo victim. Which said all sorts of things about the both the cops and the killer. The killer may know this, and may be counting on it. From what he'd overheard from the cops talking, the kills in the tunnel were at least a year old, maybe older.

  He kept an eye on his situational awareness as the light faded. Some of the streets were barely lit. No one bothered him though, he was a Neo tiger. Even a local pink gang wasn't stupid enough to tangle with him.

  Nearly an hour after he was dropped off he arrived at his intended destination. “Home sweet home,” he muttered, trudging into the lobby of the hotel.

  Immediately the Siamese looked up and waved to him. He sighed and came over. The cat at the desk silently passed him a message to call Solaximara immediately. Figures, he thought and then frowned. He wanted an update, he got that, but how did the damn neolion know where he was?

  “Can I call here or...”

  The cat snorted softly, flicked her ears and then put a phone up onto the counter. It tinkled as the bells inside were rattled. “The call will be charged to your room,” she warned.

  “That's fine. I'm calling collect,” he said. It was a black plastic phone, old, and attached to the wall by a cord. He used a pen to turn the rotary dial. When he heard it ringing he sighed, trying to relax. The cat didn't move very far off, but she at least pretended to read her magazine.

  “This is the Carlton, to whom do I ask is calling?” a voice asked.

  From the timber it sounded human. Nohar shrugged. “Nohar Yellow Tiger for Solaximara,” he said.

  “I see. He's been expecting your call. One moment,” the male voice said and then he was put on hold. He reached up and groomed his whiskers and waited. Carlton... that was a club in Landing, he thought. An exclusive club, which sounded interesting. Apparently the Neo was moving up in the world if he could get in there. Of course he could be a guest of someone.

  There was a click and then a raspy voice. “This is Solaximara. It's about time you checked in Nohar, I was starting to get concerned.”

  “You and me both, you sent me into a snake pit. It's bad.” He took fifteen minutes to explain situation, the cops, the mounting bodies... all of it.

  The red Neo listened but didn't ask any questions or interrupt until he was finished. He laid out his conclusions simply. The Neo didn't like his conclusions one bit however, so Nohar admitted it was currently based on circumstantial evidence.

  “This is bad, very bad. A Neo serial killer...”

  “I'm more worried about the deaths. This has been going on for a long time, and up until the killer started to escalate and come out into the open no one noticed.”

  “But still..”

  “Sir, did you understand me? 200 deaths confirmed this year alone.” Nohar saw the Siamese twitch her shoulders as her ears went flat in shock.

  “That many?”

  “That's just the ones we've been able to confirm sir, just the confirmed dead! There are dozens more missing. The killer has been smart up until a month ago, he staged them all to look like accidents or suicides. Now something has changed. His blood lust has taken over.” The red Neo was very unhappy about how many deaths.

  “I can use that, use the deaths, the neglect the cops did in not looking into it...” Nohar gritted his teeth when the neolion said that. He hated it when someone tried to spin something to their own ends. He should be used to it by now, but he still hated it.

  “I'm more concerned for the people involved. He started out killing children sir. Neo children,” Nohar emphasized, seeing the female turn, eyes slitted and very wide. She was now frightened and he couldn't blame her. One hand protectively cradled her womb. He frowned and turned away.

  There was a long pause as the Neo digested that. “That is unsettling,” Solaximara finally said.

  “Very, one of my problems is that the cops are too busy either overlooking everything or trying to pin it on me. I've had to twice eliminate myself as a suspect here. That's getting old and it's wasting time. We need to focus on the killer, bring him to justice or put him down. I vote put the bastard down,” he growled, ears going flat.

  “Him, so you have a suspect?” the red Neo demanded over the phone.

  Nohar c
losed his good eye for a moment and took a deep breath. Then he let it out. “Most serial killers are male. In this case, based on the forensics, it's a Neo, either a cat or a bear, I'm not sure which right now and the cops aren't talking.”

  “That figures,” Solaximara growled.

  “Yeah well, I'm having all I can do to keep off the suspect list. I overheard one of them call me a bird dog since I keep flushing out the bodies. I don't know if I should be annoyed or what. I did point out that I'm doing their job.”

  “Bet they didn't like that,” the red Neo murmured. Nohar glanced to the cat girl behind the desk and then snorted softly.

  “Yes, you could say that.”

  “All right, keep me posted Nohar, I've got some things to attend to so don't call back here though,” the neolion growled and then hung up. Nohar looked at the phone in amusement and then handed it to the cat girl.

  “Tough to do when I don't even have your number jack ass,” Nohar muttered turning and walking out of the lobby. He wanted to get clean and get some down time. Sleeping in the bush with a couple of nervous humans and being kept up all day was annoying. He could go another day or so without food, he needed to lose weight, but he did need to unwind.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The next morning he went out despite the morning mist to get a paper. He snorted at the front page headline. It was about the local balloon festival, complete with a picture under it, the entire story taking up the whole front page. He was amused, usually the event was in the summer, apparently someone had tried to make it seasonal in order to drum up more tourism for the area. The balloons were having problems though, the weather was still a bit stormy and there wasn't enough warm air to get the balloons aloft. Also some balloons had been poorly made or had issues with the hydrogen burners and tanks exploding. Last year two had done just that, killing over 19 people.

  He should be more cynical, he thought, after all, he'd found a dozen or so bodies some cannibal had eaten out in the woods, but no, the paper buried the story on A5. He was starting to wonder if that was on purpose. If the cops were smart they'd do it to keep from tainting a jury pool. But it could also be someone in the mayor's office wanting to keep the public in the dark about a predator on the loose so it wouldn't drive the tourists away.

  Or it could be both factors and a disinterest in the media. He knew his client didn't want the attention, he too wanted it all swept under the rug. Fine, he was starting to not like the spot light in this situation either.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Magnum met him in the lobby. He got up and folded his paper. Nohar nodded to him and handed the Neocat behind the counter another pair of gold coins. She nodded silently. “You ready?” Magnum asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “We need to get you a shirt like mine. It'll breathe easier than that duster you are wearing. Look better too,” Magnum said, pretending to eye him.

  Nohar snorted, flicking his good ear. “Pass,” he said. “Any more leads?”

  “Nary a thing,” Magnum sighed. “We've been neglecting things,” he said as they both turned away.

  “We?” Nohar asked. He'd long since given up shaking the human. The way this mission was shaking up, it was going to be a hairy one. He could use the back up. Besides, a local knew the ins and outs of the area, knew the bodies, and conversely they knew him. A pink could get in where he a Neotiger couldn't.

  “Yeah,” Magnum said, shrugging as they turned away from the desk. “We've been neglecting the word on the street.”

  “Okay,” Nohar nodded. “You are right. I just got here. What is it?” he asked, looking at the human as they paused outside the lobby door.

  “Well,” Magnum took his glasses out, checked them and then put them on. “Here's the thin, I can't get into Morey town. I don't have the look.”

  “Which I do,” Nohar replied, eyes narrowed. He like every other Neo hated being labeled a Morey or a Moreau. It was the equivalent of calling a black human a nigger, demeaning and racial in the extreme.

  “Yeah, so, I was thinking, I hit em high, I'll check my contacts with the police like good ole Bobby, and my girl in the ME's office, you hit em low...”

  “In the slums. Joy,” Nohar sighed.

  “Know where you are going?” Magnum asked.

  “Not a clue,” Nohar admitted. He'd scanned some maps in the library, but they had been a decade out of date.

  “Outer edge of town. The water district north near the wharves.”

  “Okay.”

  “Say, you know why we're here? Why this is called Ring City?”

  “Gee, I dunno, the big crater rings off the coast?” Nohar asked sarcastically.

  “Oh,” Magnum's face fell. “So you do know that much. The real reason is at the center of them. See, some guy got it into his head to go after the rocks that were used to jump start the terraforming on this planet.”

  “Yeah?” Nohar asked, fighting his disinterest. He knew the planet had gotten its' start with asteroid and comet terraforming before someone had come in to thicken and transform the planet with nano air converters and biota seeding. Back in their time a terraforming company could flip a planet from Mars class to Earth or near enough in under a century. Quicker if they didn't have to move the planet or alter its' pitch. Epsilon had a 24 degree pitch so they'd left that alone.

  “Yeah. Guy about oh, 200 years ago, maybe 250. He figured they are worth a lot, which they are. They are rare metals after all. The goop that got burned off in re-entry was gone. But he figured there would be diamonds and other stuff at the bottom of the impact hole too, all from the impact forces and heat. Which turned out to be true.”

  “Oh? Is this going someplace?”

  “Yeah, I'm getting there. So, he wanted this stuff, but it was too deep to dive for. So he brought in some genie workers, otters, and some others to do the work for him. And he brought in some Neocats and dogs to keep the others in line. The cats and dogs don't get along. Catching my drift now?”

  “Yeah,” Nohar said slowly. Otters were a pain in the ass. Dogs were a nuisance, one he could tolerate. The shifty otters though... He put a protective hand over his laptop bag.

  “Cats are mostly leopards and jaguar, but there are some cougars and lions too. A few Cheetah, though they are dying out. The leopards and jaguar have headed south into the jungle over time, but the cougars and lions have stuck around. Watch your back. You'll stick out like a sore thumb there.”

  “Let me guess, no tigers?”

  “Nary a one so you'll be an instant celebrity,” Magnum replied.

  Nohar turned. “Lucky me,” he sighed, orienting on the map he had in memory. It was going to be quite a walk, at least 12 kilometers. He'd done much more in his youth, but that had been then, and it had been on dirt, not hard concrete. The pads of his feet were going to be damn sore. He could drop to all 4's and run it, but that would draw attention.

  “Bus is down main, on the left. I'm not sure which one will take you there, you'll have to check the schedule. Wanna meet back here when we're done? Or that country bar?”

  “Here,” Nohar said absently. “Good hunting,” he growled gruffly.

  “You too, Stay safe,” Magnum said as he trotted in the opposite direction.

  Nohar shook his head, picking up his pace.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Morey town was as much of a rundown slum as he'd feared. He'd expected and it had met and exceeded his expectations. Neo's just didn't care much for shelter sometimes, in this heat shade and open areas to catch breezes were the main thing. Everyone around was panting or fanning themselves. It sucked not having sweat glands.

  The main drive leading to the wharves were lined with makeshift wooden stalls. Each were about 3 meters tall, simple box things with horizontal wing doors. The tops formed shade for the customer, the bottom formed a counter where the seller could showcase his wears or dicker over the price. It was all very medieval he realized. He nodded to a few Neo's who were watching him
warily.

  A cougar pride turned their backs on him, moving silk drapes to cover themselves. “Well, excuse me,” he said in mock sarcasm. He went to the nearest stall with smoke coming up from it. The smells were of meat. He bought a rat on a stick for a credit chit and then walked on, chewing on the rat.

  A pack of young dogs started to follow him. He turned, using his right hand on his hip he subtly pulled his duster open far enough for the pack to see his holster. The brown hound in the front came up short and turned away. After a moment the others followed, though the pit bull in the back looked like he was still game to go a few rounds. His fellow slapped him away, however.

  “Pitiful,” a Neo voice said from his side. He turned to see a domestic tabby there. She had an ocelot coat, with Freckle embossed on her gold necklace. She had a tied dyed skirt cloth tied around her waist and another cloth tied around her chest as a bra. He could smell kits on her. She was a parent or a babysitter. Maybe a foster parent at the local crèche, though he doubted it.

  “Dogs?” he asked, flicking his good ear slightly.

  She snorted. “Them and you, showing off,” she said, eying him.

  “I'm here on a mission actually,” he said, tossing the stick to the dogs. “Fetch!” he said and turned back to the female.

  “Oh?” she asked, sounding disinterested.

  “Yeah. Someone is killing Neo's. I've been called in to put a stop to it. But to do that I need help. I'm new here.”

  “I see,” she murmured. She walked to the back of a stall and then nodded her head for him to follow. He did so.

  “I usually only bring customers back here,” she said with a slight lilt in her voice. He got the message and pulled a silver coin out. He set it down on the bed between them.

  “My, someone pays you well Handsome,” she said smiling. Her eyes gleamed as she reached for the coin.

  “Intel,” he said, brushing her hand away. “I don't have time for games. The killer has gone from killing kits to prostitutes.”

  “So my life is on the line now?” she asked. She tried to make it sound amused but he heard the note of genuine concern threaded in the high notes.