Yet the apartment did not smell as foul as that stuff. Instead, it smelled as clean and fresh as a washed pillowcase. There was a hint of ancient earth in the air, however, which was probably from the old artifacts and items on the shelves.
The entire room gave Space the feeling that it had not been designed for him, especially when he saw how low the entrances to the other rooms of the apartment were. He wondered if the apartment had always been designed this way or if Koolap had modified it to better suit his body at some point.
Shelly did not seem terribly bothered by the room's unusual layout, probably because she did not have any legs or feet. She simply floated over to the center and said, “Please sit down, Mr. Space, and I will tell you everything I know.”
Space looked around. “Um, am I supposed to sit on the floor or something?”
Without warning, a chair fell from the ceiling right next to him. It almost hit him on the head, but Space's reflexes were just fast enough that he jumped aside just as the chair landed where he had been standing moments before.
“Forgive me for not warning you of the ceiling chair,” said Shelly. “The Director rarely—I mean, has had few humanoid guests, so we rarely have need of that chair. Even I sometimes forget about it.”
The chair looked comfortable enough, so Space sat down in it. It held his weight, but he could tell that it clearly had not been sat on in a long time, maybe even in years. There was even a thin layer of dust on the arms, but it was still better than standing up in his opinion, despite the obvious age of the chair.
“Well, I guess this will have to do for now,” said Space. He leaned forward in the chair, clasping his hands together as he looked at Shelly. “Now, Shelly, are you ready to tell me everything you know?”
“Yes,” said Shelly. “I have already had to repeat it several times today to the police. Telling you about it is not an issue.”
“Huh,” said Space. “I thought you might be too traumatized by Koolap's death to talk.”
“As a robot, death does not affect me in the same way it affects you humans,” said Shelly. “The Director was my creator and my owner. I served him for two decades, but that means little to me now. It is not that I hate him. It is simply that we robots are incapable of developing any genuine emotional connection with organic beings, even though organics can develop emotional connections with us on their own side.”
“Maybe you can't, but Sparky cares about me and Galaxy,” said Space. “He'd be devastated if we died, I'm sure.”
“I don't know Sparky very well, but if he is indeed a robot like me, then that means that he probably cannot actually form a true emotional connection with either of you,” said Shelly, her tone not changing at all. “He may like you two, but if you two died, I imagine he would simply go on with his life, as normal, albeit it might take him time to adjust to not having you two around.”
Space bit his lower lip. “Why don't we return to the original discussion point? I don't like talking about my friends behind their backs like this.”
“I agree,” said Shelly. “Where should I start?”
“After Sparky and I left Koolap's office,” said Space. “You were there when he died, right?”
“Correct,” said Shelly. “But I did not see who killed him.”
Space almost fell off the chair, but he managed to catch himself in the nick of time. Sitting back up, Space said, “Hold on. You didn't see who killed him?”
“I did not,” said Shelly, as sincerely as ever.
“But you were right there in the room with him,” said Space. “Right?”
“Correct,” said Shelly. “I am—was—always by the Director's side. Even when he slept, I was near his bed. Prior to his death, it was rare indeed for me to be anywhere else.”
“So you should have seen whoever killed him, right?” said Space.
“That is where you are wrong, Mr. Space,” said Shelly. “I did not see the Director's killer because the Director told me to shut off after you and Sparky left. He said that he was going to take his afternoon nap and that he thought I deserved an afternoon nap as well.”
“So you just went offline?” said Space. His shoulders slumped.
“More or less,” said Shelly. “As a matter of fact, I was confused when I was turned back on by the police and they showed me the Director's corpse. They had to explain to me what happened. Indeed, I still sometimes have a hard time believing it, even though I was allowed to analyze the corpse myself, which completely destroyed all of my doubt about his death.”
“Are you sure you didn't pick up any strange movements or people or anything in the room while you were offline?” asked Space. “I mean, I know you were in sleep mode, but can you still detect things when you are in sleep mode?”
“I do have a touch-activated surface,” said Shelly. She spun around in a circle, as if to show off what she was talking about. “That means that, when I am touched by an organic being, I immediately come back online. But note that it only works when I am touched by an organic being. If I am not touched, then I will stay in sleep mode until my timer goes off or until someone else touches me, even if an organic being is in the same room as me.”
“So you think it is possible, then, that someone broke into Koolap's office and killed him while you were in sleep mode, without actually touching you?” said Space.
“I think that is the most likely explanation of events,” said Shelly. “It is the current theory that the police hold and it is what I believe happened as well. Because if I had been online, I would have stopped Koolap's killer in his tracks.”
Space tapped his chin in thought. “Well, shoot. Here I was thinking that all I needed to do to find out who killed Koolap was to talk to you. Guess life is never that easy, huh?”
“Indeed it isn't,” said Shelly. “And don't ask me about evidence. The police did a thorough sweep of the Director's entire office, but found no evidence or clues pointing them toward the identity of the killer or how the killer escaped or got in. It seems like the killer entered without breaking through the door and vanished into thin air.”
Space gasped. “Are you telling me that Koolap was killed by a ghost? 'Cause I read a book about Namoxian ghosts once and—”
“Impossible,” said Shelly, cutting him off with a surprisingly rude tone. “Ghosts do not exist. It is possible that the killer may have teleported into the office using a handheld teleporter. At least, that is how the police currently explain it, even though there is no evidence for that explanation, either.”
“Looks like we've got ourselves a good old-fashioned murder mystery on our hands,” said Space. He rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Oh, I've always wanted to catch a killer like this.”
“You seem awfully enthusiastic about confronting the killer of someone you knew,” Shelly said. “You had seemed devastated by the Director's death earlier.”
Space stopped rubbing his hands together. “Oh my god, you're right. I almost forgot what I was doing. How embarrassing.”
“I doubt the Director would have cared,” said Shelly. “He loved mystery novels and holofilms. He particularly loved Earth's mystery novels and holofilms, such as the series of ancient myths about the fictional detective Sherlock Holmes.”
“I always knew the Director had good taste,” said Space. He leaned back and steepled his fingers. “So maybe you don't know who the killer is. Do you know anyone who might have wanted to kill the Director?”
“The robot rights activists,” said Shelly. “Especially the ones that used to work at the Museum. Yet there is no evidence to convict any of them of this crime.”
“But don't you find it the least bit suspicious how they fled the very second the police showed up?” said Space. “I think that means something.”
“That is typically how the robot rights activists act around the police,” said Shelly. “Especially around organic police. They simply do not want to deal with the authorities because they usually protest in places they aren'
t supposed to.”
“Maybe, but what if they actually are up to no good?” said Space. “Don't you think it's worth investigating them anyway, just to be safe?”
“The police did not indicate to me that they suspected that the robot rights activists have any connection to the crime,” said Shelly. “But I must urge you not to go after them. The robot rights activists, while generally more annoying than harmful, are still a dangerous group who show no sympathy to organics.”
“I can take care of myself,” said Space, gesturing at his chest. “I've faced far worse than a bunch of silly bots carrying poorly-written signs. Tell me where they are.”
“The robot rights activists typically meet once a week in the slums on the eastern side of the city,” said Shelly. “No one wants to give them any better place to meet, so they are usually forced to go out there to have their weekly meetings.”
“How do you know all of this?” said Space.
“I have kept a careful eye on the robot rights movement ever since they started targeting the Museum with their protests,” said Shelly. “Besides, they have not exactly kept the location of their meetings a secret. The inhabitants of the city's slums keep complaining to the City Council to give the activists somewhere else to meet, but the Council has ignored their requests, which is why the activists keep meeting there.”
“Are they having a meeting tonight?” asked Space as he stood up.
“Yes,” said Shelly. “In fact, it ought to be starting in about an hour or so. Why?”
“Then I need to leave right away,” said Space. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I need to get there and listen in on their meeting. Maybe I'll hear them confess to the crime. At the very least, they might know who did it, even if they didn't do it themselves.”
“I must advise against that, Mr. Space,” said Shelly. “That part of the city is a dangerous place to go, especially for a foreigner like you. I would suggest returning to your ship. You do not need to burden yourself with this murder.”
“You can stay here if you want,” said Space. “But I am going there no matter what. I can just use the map of the city I have downloaded into my com-watch to help me find it.”
“You still will not be safe,” said Shelly. She floated toward him in concern. “If the activists discover you eavesdropping on their private meeting, they will likely harm you.”
“As I said, I can take care of myself,” said Space, patting his holstered corner shot. “Now if you will excuse me, I must be leaving. Thanks for talking to me, though. I really appreciate it.”
Space turned to leave, but before he could, he heard Shelly behind him say, “Mr. Space, please wait. I will come with you. You do not know the city as well as I do, nor do you know the address or exact location of the activists' meeting place. I will lead you there myself.”
Space turned to face her again. “Really? Are you sure about that?”
“I am,” said Shelly. “I know how much the Director respected you prior to his death. I would not feel right if I let you walked into a dangerous situation without my help. Consider this the Director's final gift to you.”
Space smiled. “Thanks, Shelly. That's really kind of you. Are you sure you're just a cold, unfeeling robot who has no emotions whatsoever?”
“Yes,” said Shelly without missing a beat. “Now let us leave immediately. If we leave now, we should reach the meeting place just as the meeting is about to start.”
-
“Captain Galaxy, please wake up. Mr. Space is missing.”
Galaxy's eyes blinked open. She didn't want to open them at all, mostly because she wanted to sleep. She had spent a full day working the day before, having taken advantage of Space and Sparky's trip to Namox to work on making some much-needed repairs and upgrades to the Adventure's systems that she had been putting off for far too long.
Now she was looking up at Sparky, who stood above her with his eyes glowing in the darkness of her room. Still, Galaxy didn't move an inch from her comfortable position under her soft blankets, because all she wanted to do was go back to sleep.
Nonetheless, Galaxy yawned and said, “What was that?”
“Mr. Space is missing,” said Sparky. “I came online a few minutes ago to ensure that the ship's air levels were normal and to check on the two of you to make sure you were all right. That is when I discovered Mr. Space was not in his bed or anywhere else on the ship.”
Despite how tired and sleepy her body was, Galaxy managed to find enough strength to sit up. She brushed her messy black hair out of her eyes and, still yawning, said, “Where did he go?”
“He left a note on the bridge's main monitor claiming that he went to Namox to investigate the murder of Director Koolap,” said Sparky. “I've tried to contact him via his com-watch, but he has not answered for some reason.”
“Oh, great,” said Galaxy. She yawned once more. “I should have known Space was going to try something like that. We need to go after him, because if he's trying to find a murderer, then there's a good chance he could end up dead himself.”
“I agree,” said Sparky. “I am tracking his com-watch, which shows that he is still in Kantol. Should we head down there right away?”
“Let me get dressed real quick,” said Galaxy, tossing the covers off her legs. “But I'll be fast. There's no telling what dangerous situation Space might be in even as we speak.”
-
Just as Shelly predicted, it took them about an hour to travel from Koolap's old apartment to the location of the activists' meeting place. Space and Shelly took the city's public transport, a train that wound through the entire city like a giant snake.
When they arrived in the slums, Shelly took Space through a series of backstreets that she said would allow them to reach the meeting place without the activists noticing. The backstreets were largely empty this time of night, although Space occasionally spotted a homeless person or two sleeping in the doorways of abandoned buildings or on the streets.
But Shelly was correct that they were not noticed, because Space did not see even one robot on their way to the meeting place. He had worried that they might, but it seemed that Shelly really did know her way around here. Her efficiency reminded him of Sparky, whose own internal compass and map systems often ensured that he would never get lost even in a foreign place that he had not visited before.
Their quest (which was what Space liked to think of it as, even though there was hardly anything epic about avoiding drunk homeless Namoxians in the middle of the night) took them to the back door of a short, two-story building that might have been an old apartment building. Shelly claimed that this was where the robot rights activists' meetings always took place, and that if they took the back door, the two of them could sneak in without any of the activists being the wiser.
So Space pushed open the door and stepped inside, holding the door open long enough for Shelly to follow him. Once they were both inside, he closed the door, plunging them into the darkness of a very smelly hallway. It was even slightly dusty, causing his nose to twitch, but he did not dare sneeze, because even in their current position he could hear the sounds of metal joints creaking, of metal feet walking across the wooden floor.
But it was pitch-black, making it impossible for him to see where he was going. All he could see was Shelly's red blinking eye, which floated in the air before him as silently as ever.
“All right, Shelly,” said Space, keeping his voice to a whisper so that the gathered activists could not hear him. “Show me where I am supposed to go. I can't see a thing in this darkness, so you'll have to lead me.”
“Very well,” said Shelly, her voice as low as his, if not lower. “Grab onto my surface and I will lead you to where you need to go.”
Space reached out and fumbled around in the darkness for a moment before his fingers found Shelly's smooth, spherical surface. He then allowed her to partly pull him along through the shadows, keeping his mouth shut so that his breathing would not be heard
by the activists.
Then again, that seemed like a pointless gesture, because the closer they drew to a slightly cracked-open door, the louder the voices and clicks and beeps of the activists became. They were so loud that Space could barely even hear himself breathe. Still, he kept the noises he made to a minimum to avoid ruining their plan at the last second.
Now Space did wonder briefly how Shelly had known not only how to find this building, but also how to navigate through it so that Space would not accidentally trip over something in the dark. It almost seemed like she had visited this place at some point, even though there was no reason to believe that she had. Shelly was probably just using her sensors to move around the dark room without knocking into anything, so he dismissed the thought from his mind without hesitation.
Then Shelly stopped and whispered, “We're here.”
Space let go of her spherical surface and slowly and carefully made his way to the cracked open door. Without making any noise, he peeked through the crack to get a good look at the activists.
Unfortunately, Space saw very little through the crack, mostly thanks to the dozens of activists all crowding in the room. There were a couple of active florescent lights, which surprised Space, because this building had looked so abandoned that he had assumed that its electricity had been cutoff.
From what he could see, the vast majority of activists were robots, but he also spotted a couple of humans among them, as well as a Namoxian or two. He found this odd, seeing as the robot rights activists had seemed extremely hostile to organic beings in general, but he supposed that maybe some organic beings empathized with the activists' cause. Considering how rude they had been to Space earlier, however, he doubted these organics were treated well regardless of their position on robot rights.
He heard Shelly hovering just behind his right shoulder, but Space did not look up at her. He was focused instead on the activists, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever their leader was. Unfortunately, there were too many activists crowding together like a wall for him to see much.
The Spacetastic Adventures of Mr. Space and Captain Galaxy: Season Two Page 15