“And you may describe me as Brother of M.M., and we are Clan Milac’ Abri.“ The Val Chiri bobs his head again. “Honored lieutenant, you display tact and understanding worthy of diplomats.“
In the conversation that follows Mitsu needs every shred of those qualities that she possesses. Formal compliments, circumlocutions, evasions, hints, and half-truths — she hears them all, but never a simple statement, though at the same time, never an outright lie. Her other dealings with Val Chiri have convinced her of their essential honesty, which is why, she supposes, they’ve developed such elaborate ways of hedging the truth, just as, she’s sure, Brother of M.M. is hedging now. She’s willing to bet a chance at promotion that he either knows or thinks he knows the identity of the murderer, not, of course, that he’s going to tell her. What he does talk about, at great length, is the structure of the clan, more than they ever would have thought to ask or wanted to know. Finally, after a frustrating hour, she cuts him short.
“Tell me, honored voice of Clan Milac’ Abri, if these things we are recording are true. The murdered male, former First Man of your clan, left his suite last night at about 1800 hours. None knew where he might be going, because it was not their position in life to question him. I, however, guess that he went to the public studio of the Admart show in order to record his message. One of my assistants will confirm or deny that fact. However, he never returned to the suite. In the morning, about 0600 hours, First Wife went to search for him, as was indeed part of her position after so long an absence. He had recently been ill, too, and she was worried because of that. She found him in none of the rooms of the suite and came out into the hallway here. Something struck her about the outside doors, and she opened them to find her husband’s body. When she screamed, Second Wife and First Son heard her and came to help. First Son told the women to leave the body as they found it and sent Third Son, who had also joined them by then, to fetch you, Second Man of Clan Milac’ Abri. You then called the police.“
“That is correct, Honored Lieutenant.“
“May I ask you why you called us?“
He stiffens, glancing this way and that.
“It was the correct thing to do.“
“Certainly, but Val Chiri tend to solve these problems on their own, when they can.“
“It was the message.“ He seems to be forcing himself to look her in the eye. “Third Son saw it during its first showing on that execrable television program. Soon the police would have called without doubting.“
“Thank you for being so frank. Will you accompany me to look at your brother’s corpse? Or will that be too painful?“
“I have seen it once. I can look again.“
The med-techs have laid the murdered man flat on the floor of the connecting bridge. Colored shadows fall across him from the stained glass insets in the bridge walls. The Brother joins her as she flips the end of the sheet back for a look at the victim’s face. For a moment Mitsu mistakes the smear of dry orange blood across his brow-ridge for a shadow.
“Hey, wait,“ she says. “One of the jewels is missing. A diamond, I think it was.“
“You are correct, honored lieutenant. It was a white diamond.“ Automatically he touches his own brow ridge, where a single red jewel glimmers. “It is part of First Man’s station in life to carry the wealth of the clan within his body. The rest of us carry only a few gems of little value, for use in emergencies, I think your word is.“
“I see. Looks like that diamond got pried out with the point of a sharp knife. Like maybe the one that killed him.“
“Perhaps this is merely robbery? Yes, that must be it. That jewel was worth very many of your dollars. Perhaps one of your poor people was overwhelmed by his need to care for his family.“
“Do you really think that your brother’s murderer had only money on his mind? If so, he would have taken all the jewels.“
Brother turns pale and studies the floor. Because she needs him, Mitsu lets him off the hook. She goes to a window and looks out and down. Identical bridges run between the two buildings at every other floor, so that it would be the easiest thing in the world for someone to do the murder here at Building One, rush back to Building Two, take a lift down and cross back to Building One again. She realizes then that she’s sure the murderer was another Val Chiri. Whom else would Brother bother to protect?
“Now then, honored voice, I need to speak to First Wife. I want to know what made her open those doors.“
“What you ask is impossible. No male from outside her clan may speak to a Val Chiri wife.“
“Honored voice, I happen to be female.“
Apparently, comic surprise is one of those things that cuts across cultural boundaries. Brother’s eyes bulge, and he opens and shuts his mouth several times very fast.
“Honored lieutenant, I am guilty of shame and horrifying insult. I pray with all my hearts that you will be forgiving me for this terrible, terrible mistake. You sapients who are not of Chiri Gan — you look so much alike, male and female both. I will escort you to speak with First Wife.“
“You are forgiven, honored voice. Bill, give me that recorder, okay? Get the med techs’ final report, make sure the photo guys have double the usual number of record shots, and then get the corpse on a gurney. No need to let him lie out here.“
Brother thanks her wordlessly with a low and curling bow.
In a group of other women First Wife sits in the innermost room of the suite, a white cube hung with red and blue banners and littered with objects: piles of metallic bowls and flat shapes, wooden boxes, fiber-hide sacks, lengths of cloth, cushions, all tumbled and scattered about. She herself wears white gauze and sits silent and immobile on an upturned wooden chest. Her female face, smooth and hairless, nearly featureless except for the tiny eyes, the lipless slit of mouth, is so pale, so utterly closed that Mitsu finds herself thinking of that strange alabaster globe she saw on the morning’s AdMart. All around First Wife the other females alternately curl up into balls like some jointed beetle, then stretch out again, holding their arms up to the Val Chiri idea of heaven, perhaps, and shrieking out a tone so high-pitched that Mitsu’s ears can barely register it. At a word from Brother, they stop and flee, scuttling off into the other rooms of the suite.
“I will tell her that you are female,“ Brother remarks. “And that you wish to help us avenge her husband.“
While he speaks, Mitsu kneels to get on the same level with First Wife, who turns her head slowly to face her. Under the white drapery, her top four arms are clutched round her torso.
“Ask her about the doors, honored voice. I don’t want to intrude on her mourning any longer than I can help.“
They speak together briefly.
“She wants only to know when her husband’s body will be returned to her.“
“Once I know who murdered him, she may have the body back.“
Another exchange, and it seems that First Wife’s angry about something, from the way that her arms unclasp and lash back and forth. Mitsu can only assume that the woman’s half-mad with grief.
“She does not remember about the doors, she says. They are not important, she says. She is First Wife. She is used to having her wishes fulfilled.“
“I see. Well, honored voice, if she remembers this detail later, perhaps she might send one of her sons to tell me?“
“They are not her sons, honored lieutenant. They are his sons. She is the one who gave them birth, yes, but he pouched them during their growing into children.“
Mitsu sits back on her heels and reproaches herself for forgetting again. Marsupials. These people are marsupials, and the males produce milk as easily as the females. For some reason she always finds these facts hard to remember.
“Of course, honored voice, and you have my apology for my mistake.“
The pale face of First Wife turns once again to her own. The golden eyes sweep over her, the voice softens when she speaks.
“She offers you sympathy, honored lieutenan
t, that you have no husband and no clan and must work among males.“
“Then thank her for me. Huh, interesting. Tell me, honored voice, do your women sometimes do male work, then? If they have to, I mean?“
Instead of answering her directly, Brother relays the question to First Wife, who answers slowly, gravely, and he translates the same way.
“Only in situations of great shame, when their husbands and their clan are dead or utterly and completely without honor, and then, only the most menial of work. She wishes you to know that it is a terrible, terrible thing for the daughter of a man to bear such a shame.“ He pauses as First Wife says something more. “She says she does not mean to insult you, of course. It is your father’s shame that he could not provide for you, not yours.“
“And your husband did pouch daughters?“
Brother translates; First Wife inclines her head slightly yes in a mimic of a human gesture and holds up a single finger. So. They have an only daughter. When Mitsu looks into her golden eyes, she finds them still impassive, but she knows that she’s been given a clue, a big clue, in the only way that First Wife will be allowed to do so, hidden among female things.
Mitsu meets the daughter a few minutes later, in fact, when she and Brother come out of the suite. The med-techs have laid the body, draped in a morgue sheet, onto a gurney, which now stands, guarded by a pair of officers, in the corridor between the outside doors and the suite. Bill waits nearby, talking with one of the officers. When she hears the word “psionics,“ Mitsu has no compunctions about interrupting.
“Bill, I need a comp unit and a place to work on-site.“
“Manager’s already thought of that.“ Bill gives her a keycard. “We got one opposite the turbo doors on the third floor. He says they keep a few business rooms set up for guests.“
From down the corridor Mitsu hears a shriek. She can think of it no other way, than that the shriek, a high-pitched howl of mourning, comes like a living thing, carrying the Val Chiri Gan female along with it. All dressed in flowing white she rushes to the gurney to raise herself up on her lowest legs and throw herself on the body.
“First Daughter,“ Brother says. “She is First Wife to Chief Navigator. They and their Second Wife live on the floor below.“
First Daughter has clawed back the sheet to cradle her father’s head in her upper-most hands. Still sobbing she begins to rock back and forth.
“Honored lieutenant, you must release us the body of my brother. The women will be in this pain of grief until the ceremony is performed.“
Mitsu is too busy watching the daughter to answer. She falls silent, shakes herself to pull herself under control, and rests her father’s head on the gurney again. Mitsu walks over and points to the spot where the jewel is missing. The daughter looks, then freezes, crouches, her eyes widening, her breath coming in a long sob. She pulls herself away and drops to race down the hall toward the lift. When Bill starts to follow, Mitsu grabs his arm.
“Let her go. I got what I needed.“
Just as First Daughter reaches the lift, a Val Chiri male steps out of it. First Daughter drops flat onto the carpet at his feet. Snarling and muttering he grabs her top arms and hauls her up, shoves her into the lift, and steps in quickly after her. The doors hiss shut.
“That was Chief Navigator.“ Brother is shaking all over as he speaks. “She never should have left her rooms. I mean, there are males up here who are not clan males!“
“Is that the only reason he was so angry, honored voice? That missing jewel? It seemed to mean a lot to her.“
Brother makes a sound under his breath, partly a sob, partly a chitter of rage.
“Theft is always bad.“ He hesitates for a long while. “Especially of clan property.“
“You know, sir, if we solve this case quickly, like this afternoon, then we won’t need to do an autopsy. You can hold your ceremony whenever you want.“
For a moment the Val Chiri neither moves nor speaks.
“I have endeavored to assist you in all matters, to the limit of my poor station in life and among our people.“
“Of course, honored voice. I do believe you’ve fulfilled your station in every detail.“
The office that the hotel manager’s given them turns out to be small but serviceable, with two chairs, a desk, and a good comp link station built right into the wall. It’s also sound-proofed, as Bill immediately remarks.
“Sir?“ he goes on. “While you were talking to the head wife, Washington called again. Want you to call them back on a secure line right away. They’re getting real worried.“
“Tough. What do you bet they’re going to tell us to sweep this under the rug? We’re going to have to do it, too. But I want to know what happened before I start sweeping.“
Nodding agreement, Bill grabs another Kleenex and blows his nose hard. Mitsu sits down at the link station and logs into the main police comp at the Hall of Justice, then has Bill feed in everything he’s noted as well as her recording of the original AdMart message. The CompHQ in turn has a couple of reports for her, one about the victim’s background and his clan, the other about his movements of the night before. He did indeed go down to the AdMart studio to use one of their automated recording booths, then returned to the hotel and gave the night clerk a manila envelope to be put into the safe.
“Looked like papers.“ The recording officer on screen is reading from his notes. “Might be the will he talked about, lieutenant. We’re getting a warrant for it now. The clerk logged the package into the safe at 2146 hours, gave the victim a time-stamped receipt, and watched him get into the turbolifts.“
The report ends there. Mitsu feeds an analysis sub-routine into comp, sets it to isolating that sentence of the original message that was in the language of the Val Chiri Gan, then does some hard thinking. A couple of missing hours there, maybe more, between that receipt and his time of death, but First Wife swears and Mitsu’s inclined to believe her that he never returned to the suite.
“Family,“ she says aloud. “Bill, how many human murders come down to problems between family members or close friends?“
“’Bout ninety per cent. But these people aren’t human, sir.“
“Good point, but about how much of our time did old Honored Translator spend talking about his clan?“
Bill grins.
“Ninety per cent, yeah.“
On screen, a message comes up. The sentence has been isolated and transcribed into the American alphabet. Since Mitsu still doesn’t understand one word, she accesses the police ROM library. She’s looking for some very specific facts, and once she finds them, she feeds her gleanings into the case file, clears the screen, and enters a handful of keywords to play around with.
“Shame, daughter, a weird name, virtue, jealousy, polygamy, vengeance, provide for, no testimony against.“ Bill reads them off. “Against what, sir?“
“No spouse can be forced to testify against his or her spouse. That’s our law, not theirs, but they’d agree with the principle, I bet.“
“Okay. What’s the weird name, N’ya however you say that?“
“Who, not what, and that’s a throat click in the middle. Remember how the victim spoke in his own language? He said, ‘I take leave of you as N’ya!a took his leave.’ The language program in the banks translated it that way, anyway; let’s hope it’s accurate. And in the Oxford Dictionary of Val Chiri Gan Culture I found a story that goes with the name, a classic that everyone would know. Kind of like Shakespeare is to us.“
“Yeah? And the story is?“
“N’ya!a fell in love with one of his son’s wives. Honor said one thing, lust said another. So he screwed the lady and committed suicide and took care of both.“
“No way this could be suicide! And his sons are too young to be married. Old honored bullshitter told us that.“
“Yeah, he sure did, didn’t he? Repeated it a couple of times. He could figure out that we’d get the N’ya!a reference translated, sooner or later.
But there’s a son, all right, that he was hoping we’d forget about.“
“The son-in-law.“
“Right. Jeez, Bill, you psychic or something?“
“Go on, make fun of me, but I still think the victim had some kind of psychic powers. I mean, he predicted his own murder, didn’t he?“
“But why didn’t he just name the killer and save us a lot of trouble? If he was psychic, he would’ve known, and he said he didn’t.“
“Well, yeah, I guess so... but wait! He said he couldn’t say, not that he didn’t know.“
Mitsu grins.
“Very good, sergeant. Now you’re thinking. Look, let me tell you what I got so far. We have a man who knows he’s going to be murdered. He’s not just afraid of it; he’s sure of it. Yet he doesn’t come to us, even though he must know he’s so important that we’d turn out half the force to protect him.“
Rocket Boy and the Geek Girls Page 19