Rev wondered whether the little machine held back or really didn’t know the answers. So they walked quietly until Flint nudged Rev toward a plain building that rose over two hundred stories high.
“I take it this is the place?”
“Yes,” said Flint. “Unfortunately you still need to reach the one hundred and sixtieth floor by transmat elevator.”
“That’s okay,” said Rev, stroking his stomach. “I feel much better. I think the walk has done me some good.”
Flint directed Rev to another of the transmat elevators and without much perceived movement they reached the right floor. They headed down a sparsely decorated hallway to an average, uncomplicated apartment. Flint opened the door and floated into the room.
Rev followed and immediately found himself consumed by complete darkness. Rev fumbled for a light switch but stubbed his toe, tripped over something small and landed very hard on his knees with both hands extended. His balanced shifted forward, crushing an object. His hand felt moist; he knew he had cut himself breaking his fall. If anyone was nearby they would have heard him curse three times more fervently as each stage of his accident occurred.
The lights came up and Rev found himself on his knees with one hand resting in what was left of a vase. He inspected his lacerated hand and plucked a glass shard from his palm. “Dammit,” he said, pinching the skin so the blood wouldn’t drip on the white carpeting. “I guess I’m not very stable yet.”
“It was my fault Rev,” said Flint. “I forgot to turn the lights on for you. Are you all right?”
“A cut and a few bruises,” he said, showing his hand to Flint.
“I can administer first aid,” said Flint.
“No, that’s okay.”
The little machine zipped around like a mother hen protecting her chicks and inspected his hand. “I insist,” said Flint. And with that, Flint coated Rev’s hand with a foam that melted on contact. The cut sealed itself and the blood faded as if it was washed away with water. After just a few seconds the throbbing of the cut was gone.
“That’s great,” said Rev, flexing his hand. “I can hardly see where the cut was.”
“I’m here to assist you and it does appear I was to blame.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Rev?” asked Flint.
“Uh-huh.”
“Something bothers me.”
“And what is that?”
“When you fell, why did you want to urinate, defecate and then procreate, in that order?” asked Flint, recalling Rev’s curses as he fell. “Humans are strange to me.”
“That we are,” said Rev. “You know what a euphemism is?”
“Yes,” responded Flint. “It’s a substitution of an inoffensive saying or word for a more offensive one.”
“Correct,” said Rev. “When humans are distressed, we tend to use the opposite of a euphemism, finding the most offensive thing to say to express frustration or pain.”
“So it’s like a reversed euphemism.”
“Exactly.”
The machine hummed for a second. “That’s a dysphemism.”
“Really?” said Rev, hearing the word for the first time, mulling the concept over.
“How very strange you humans are.”
Chapter 4
REV WOKE UP to the smell of real coffee. For a moment he almost forgot he was on Tsunam. Groggy-headed, he shuffled into a small kitchenette where Flint moved the piping hot cup of coffee to a breakfast bar. Rev watched in amazement at how strange the little machine was as it morphed two small, thin limbs from the main blobby, floaty body, cradling the cup safely.
“Thanks,” said Rev, pulling the cup closer, feeling the warmth through the porcelain.
“You are very welcome,” said Flint. “I know by my briefing you do not require sugar or cream, but I could bring you some if you wish?”
“No thanks, I take it black,” said Rev, taking a sip. He was pleasantly surprised at how good the coffee tasted, one of the best cups of coffee he had ever had in his entire life.
Flint continued. “I feel I know you very well—”
“This is fantastic,” interrupted Rev, taking another sip.
“I took the liberty of synthesizing the coffee from some of your memories,” said Flint.
“You mean to tell me this cup of coffee’s only a figment of my mind?”
“Of course not, but I did scan you and found just what you like and dislike. Then it was easy enough to search our data banks for the chemical breakdown of coffee and with the proper readjustments, create the liquid you have in your cup.”
Rev took another sip. “I have to give you credit. It’s the best damn cup of coffee I’ve ever had. And the temperature is perfect too.”
Flint floated off to the kitchen where Rev heard silverware clinking together along with the usual whirring noises of Flint propelling himself about.
“Your toast is almost ready.”
“Do we have time?”
“Certainly. The crime scene will be available until you decide there is no further need for it to be saved.”
“I don’t quite understand,” said Rev. “Hasn’t it been nearly a week since the murder?”
“Yes.”
“Won’t the scene be contaminated by now?”
“Most assuredly not,” said Flint, appalled. “The only outside people to investigate the scene were your two agents. No one else has disturbed the scene since then.”
“What about the body?” asked Rev. “Didn’t the victim get moved to the morgue or wherever you take dead bodies?”
“No,” answered Flint. “She is still there as far as I know.”
“You can’t just leave dead bodies lying around. They’ll start to stink.”
Flint flew in carrying a small plate with two very thick slabs of toast covered with butter. Rev took the plate and bit a crunchy bite; relishing the first real food he’d had in over a day and a half.
“This is pretty good little buddy,” said Rev, taking another greedy bite. Crumbs stuck to his chin. He wiped them away with the back of one hand.
Flint tried to explain. “The body will not stink unless it stunk before the scene was secured and of course we could vacate the smell if it did stink. I mean, if it bothered you when you investigate.”
“Things sure are different here,” said Rev. “Back home, if a body laid around for a week there’d be one mighty bad odor and the insects would be so thick you’d have to brush them away just to get a good look at the victim.”
“There is not any insect life on Tsunam,” said Flint.
“You’re kidding. No bugs?”
“No bugs whatsoever,” assured Flint.
“Man, I’ve got to get some beach front property here.”
“I do not believe you would be allowed to make such a purchase,” said Flint. “The Tsunamians value their planet above all else, along with their privacy, of course.”
“That’s for sure,” agreed Rev as he finished up the last bite of toast. “Do I have time for a shower and a shave?”
“Go right ahead,” said Flint. “Leave your clothes on the bed and I will clean them while you tend to your toilet.”
The shower felt great on his skin. There were jets of hot steam on the sides and cool water that fell like rain from above as he lathered up. He felt the aches and pains fading away. He toweled himself dry and found what looked like an electric razor on the counter in front of a large mirror, but when he started to cut his stubble the mirror presented all four views of his head: front, back, left side and right side. He didn’t even have to tilt his chin to see how he was shaving because the mirror sensed his needs and showed him a closeup view of his neck as if there was a camera mounted to his hairy chest.
If Rev didn’t shave often his beard would be dangling to his chest in a few months. Not that he didn’t like how the thick blonde beard grew in, he just didn’t like seeing himself with those pure white stiff hairs that always seemed to stick o
ut in odd spots. Somehow it made him look older; so he shaved, admiring his strong chin and soulful hazel eyes.
When Rev was finished he found his clothes clean and neatly folded on the pristinely made bed. His bed at home would get a cleaning maybe once a year whether it needed it or not. It certainly wouldn’t be made unless he knew he was having company, and probably not even then if it wasn’t for a new girlfriend. He’d try to clean and be the good bachelor at the start of each relationship, but work always got in the way. Here it appeared he had a personal servant following him around tidying up messes. He didn’t quite like the idea, but he could get used to it. After all, the only thing missing was a woman and he didn’t dare ask Flint if there were such services available on this sexually repressed planet.
Rev fitted his weapon on his hip and slipped the wallet ID into a jacket pocket. He took one last look at himself in the mirror and thought he looked pretty good for a hundred and thirty. He had survived the trip to Tsunam, got some sleep, had kick-ass coffee, and was ready to start investigating.
* * *
REV AGREED HE COULD handle the transmat elevator so Flint programmed their destination as the P.I. braced himself against the railing. He didn’t want to appear to be a wuss so he relaxed his grip just before the doors closed. The trip only took the time to wink and he walked out of the transmat without any of the aftereffects he experienced last night.
“That wasn’t too bad this time,” said Rev.
“You appear to have completely recovered from the Stroustop travel,” said Flint. “They say you will get used to its effect even on longer travels over time.”
“I doubt that,” said Rev as he strolled out into the sunshine on a perfect morning. There were a few clouds but not enough to hint that there would be rain in the forecast. They traveled down the causeway until Flint indicated they should veer off to their right into a secluded park. After just a few minutes, Flint stopped and bobbed in front of Rev. “We are here,” he announced.
“Okay,” said Rev, looking around. “Where’s the crime scene?”
“Please keep your voice down,” said Flint.
“Fine,” whispered Rev. “Why?”
“The crime scene has not officially been revealed to the public,” said Flint.
“To curb panic?”
“I believe so,” said the little machine. “But more likely the government does not know how to handle a murder. Hence your involvement.”
“So we’re going to investigate a crime scene that doesn’t exist? In this lovely park?”
Flint bobbed in anticipation.
“So where is it?” Rev looked around for the usual barricades and flashing vehicles.
“It is hidden,” said Flint.
“I can see that, or more rightly, I can’t see it.”
“Follow me,” said Flint as he turned off the sidewalk. Flint floated over a perfect grassy lawn and disappeared into thin air. Rev gawked. After a moment, half of Flint reappeared and spoke. “This way Rev,” beckoned Flint with a thin, nearly transparent arm. Then he disappeared again.
Rev took the hint and followed to the spot where Flint disappeared. Rev felt like he walked through a pliable veil. He looked back over his shoulder and saw the park was just as it was when he was on the sidewalk, but now in front of him was a completely different scene. There weren’t any officials, no ropes or barricades, but there was a body; a blonde-haired woman with most of her clothing torn to shreds. Blood pooled around the body, darkening the grass. Along the edges of the crime scene were thin white poles that telescoped up to create a canopy over the immediate area.
Flint hovered just before one of the poles as he waited for Rev to catch up.
“Pretty neat setup you’ve got here,” said Rev. “I take it no one can see into or even hear us here?”
“Correct,” said Flint. “Officially you are the fourth to be given access to this area.”
“Cassie and Braz being two of the others and the person who actually found the body was the third?” asked Rev.
“Not quite,” said Flint. “I am the other who found the body. The scene was secured by me six days ago. Not even Regency Tuloff has been here and most likely will not bother himself with the actual crime scene.”
“I see,” said Rev, disliking Tuloff even more. “He’s too important for such things.”
“There is really no reason for him to be physically here,” said Flint. “He would only be more distraught after viewing the body.”
“May I get a closer look?”
“Go ahead,” said Flint. “The stasis field will tingle a bit as you pass through but the body is exactly as it was found and will remain unchanged for as long as the field is running.”
Rev was apprehensive as he got closer to the poles. The hairs on his arm stood straight out as if he were electrically charged when he got close. It felt like someone dropped an ice cube down the back of his shirt; at first the shock — then the sensation settled to just being unpleasant. That unpleasant feeling persisted as he moved closer to the corpse but got no worse.
“So Cassie and Braz investigated thoroughly?”
“I believe they did to their satisfaction.”
“They took DNA samples and photos,” said Rev more as a statement than a question.
“Yes.”
“So who is she?”
“She was Tee Sorse, a laboratory scientist for the Eugenics Department. She was nine thousand, three hundred and forty three years, two hundred twenty-one days old up to the time of her demise. She held ten degrees, all relating to the eugenics field of science and—”
“I think I got it,” interrupted Rev. “Man, you guys have this bio-engineering stuff down pat don’t you?”
“Tsunam does have extensive knowledge in that science,” agreed Flint.
Rev bent down and lifted what was left of an arm from a scrap of shredded clothing so as not to touch the body directly. Underneath he could plainly see a large chunk of the soft tissue had been bitten off.
“Do you have any large animals in the city?” asked Rev.
“None.”
“Sure about that?” pressed Rev.
“Absolutely,” said the little machine.
“You do now,” stated Rev. “And by the looks of it, it’s one helluva hungry sucker. It’s taken to feeding on the softer tissue of Miss Sorse.”
“That is revolting,” said Flint.
Rev noticed a passcard half out of the corpse’s pocket. He lifted the corner of cloth up to see if any more goodies could be seen, wondering if his missing partners overlooked this or why the card was still in place if not.
“Are you sure Cassie and Braz made a thorough examination of the site? It’s not like them to miss the simple stuff.”
“Oh, yes, I am sure of it,” answered Flint.
“Then how did they miss this?” asked Rev, lifting the passcard up. A slip of paper showed, sticking to its backing. Rev peeled the paper slip from the card and opened the little piece of paper. It was all foreign to him so he showed it to Flint. “What is this?”
“I do not know,” said Flint, interested in the paper. “Maybe it was not present when the two humans examined the body.”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Rev. “Someone has salted the crime scene for our benefit.”
Flint looked confused.
“What does it say?” asked Rev, letting Flint get a good look at it.
“It is an address.”
“Do you know where?”
Flint nodded. “It is to a known underground speakeasy establishment.”
“As in alcohol?” said Rev.
“Yes, along with sex and drugs.”
“I thought that was taboo here?”
“It is, but there are places where the Deviants congregate in secret. This one has been under surveillance for some time.”
“Is it past noon yet?” asked Rev. “I make it a point not to drink before it’s respectable.”
“It is just
turning past the midday point,” announced the little machine.
“Close enough for government work. I’m feeling a little thirsty,” said Rev. “How about you?”
“I do not drink,” said Flint flatly.
“You don’t say.”
The automaton stuttered nervously. “I have not tried.”
“One last question,” said Rev as he stood to leave. “Your logs don’t show any contamination of the scene?”
“No,” said Flint.
“Interesting isn’t it? Yet the scene has been altered for us. You know what that means?”
Flint shook his blobby glowing body.
Rev took the slip of paper from Flint. “There’s someone else interested in this case who knows we’re here and wishes to make our acquaintance.”
“Oh,” said Flint, following the implication.
Chapter 5
IT DIDN’T TAKE FLINT LONG to locate the whereabouts of the underground bar in the oldest part of the city. The architecture was plainer and less likely to house more affluent Tsunamians.
There weren’t any addresses on the outside of the buildings, setting Rev to wondering just how Flint knew they had arrived. “What makes this the right place?”
“The slip of paper gave coordinates to this location,” said Flint. “All addresses on Tsunam are like your GPS coordinates on Earth, except we have a Z coordinate added. Not only do we know its surface position but also the relative position to sea level. And this address tells me we must descend twelve meters to complete the address.”
“All the best drinking establishments are below ground,” remarked Rev. “Why would it be any different on another planet?”
Flint floated down a narrow stairwell which lead them below the causeway. When they reached the bottom they had to turn left ninety degrees and enter a dark tunnel. They could see a dim light at the end and an ironclad door that looked strong enough to ward off a small army of elephants. The sound of running water trickled by. Rev noticed gutters and arches that he guessed supported the above infrastructure.
“Is the city built on top of a river?”
“Yes,” answered Flint. “The whole city has thousands of small tributaries that wash away the waste and nourish the open seas. That is why the streets above are called causeways.”
The Beast of Tsunam (Rev Smalley: Galactic P.I. Book 1) Page 4