You'd have to be desperate to take a deal like that. I was desperate.
I took my eyes off the patterned tile ceiling to look at Lieutenant Neels, brought back to the here-and-now. “And that's all I remember. I guess it worked.”
He just looked at me for a long, painful time, his expression hard and unreadable. I'd sold three weeks for half a million stars and now I was a witness with no memory in a murder investigation. I told all that to the cop. He dropped a holoprint in front of me.
“Is that the woman?”
I nodded. It would take more than a brain blank to make me forget her. “That's her.” I had a bad feeling about the way he asked the question, but I didn't know enough to start lying.
His lips compressed to a thin line. “Did you kill her?”
I looked at him in shock. I wasn't a witness, I was a suspect. The suspect, said a little voice at the back of my brain. I'd known the deal had something deep behind it, but Bodyguard had told me the job was a package delivery, straight up and simple. Kzinti don't lie, it's beneath their honor, and I wouldn't have taken anything dirtier anyway. A brain blank doesn't change the way you act, and I'm not a killer. I shook my head. “I didn't even know she was dead.”
“You wouldn't under the circumstances, would you?” His eyes bored in to mine. “There's about a gallon of her blood in your airlock.” He held my gaze for a long, uncomfortable time. “Anything you'd like to add to your statement?”
“Who is she?”
“Opal Stone.”
Opal Stone. I felt a sudden urge to look at my palm, to the place the red inked words had been. Instead I just looked at him, not knowing what to say. I didn't remember anything… Opal Stone.
He kept his eyes locked on mine for a long, long time, while I sat there feeling like a prey animal myself. Finally he turned away. “We don't have a body, yet. The UNSN has a ship scanning your last recorded course, and we're talking to Jinx.” He looked back at me and his voice hardened. “If you spaced her, we'll find her.”
“I don't…”
“Remember,” he finished for me. “I know. You can go. Your ship is under seal. Don't leave the asteroid.”
I left with my head spinning and cursing myself for taking the deal in the first place. I thought I was desperate before, but now… I thought back again, trying to glean some missed detail from my mind, but the brain blank was complete. My first memory after the meeting was of staring up at the time display. She'd died—nobody loses a gallon of blood and lives. It was supposed to be a simple delivery trip. What had gone wrong? I pulled out my beltcomp and tabbed my last transactions, another attempt to fill in the blanks. There was a half-million-star deposit a week ago, and then today there was the rental bill for the cube dorm on horizontal sixteen—I hadn't thought to check the location when I'd left with the cop. Now I knew the timeframe, but what was I doing staying in a place like that with half a million stars to my name? The answer came too easily. Hiding. That didn't help me believe in my own innocence. I took a drop shaft to level sixteen and found the place again. It was residential space awkwardly converted to daily rental cubes, the kind of place that takes cash and doesn't ask names. I had to ask the proprietor which cube was mine. He sent me to number twenty-three. The lock opened when I thumbed it, and I went inside.
Something slammed into me from behind, and suddenly my face was jammed into a corner. Something soft and strong had me by the neck, and three sharp needles pressed delicately against my jugular vein. A kzin. I made a mental note to complain to the management about their security.
“Where is my client, Dylan Thurmond?” he snarled.
“What client?” My life was getting progressively more confusing.
He spun me around to face him, and I found myself staring into bared fangs. “Opal Stone.” The kzin was Bodyguard. “She is missing from your ship. I will have an answer.” The needles pressed harder.
I shook my head as well as I could. “You were there when she brain-blanked me. I don't have any answers.”
“Then I will have your life.” His eyes got big and his ears swiveled up.
“I didn't kill her. I know that much.” I didn't know that much, but I said it. I hoped it was true.
“I watched her board your ship. Now her blood is all over your airlock.” His grip tightened again and I began to have trouble breathing.
“It wasn't me,” I gasped.
“Prove it.”
“It's too obvious, I've been set up.” His eyes bored in to mine, his fangs inches from my face. “With a brain blank I can't even defend myself.” The kzin's grip didn't slacken. “Whoever framed me did it.” I was grasping at straws, making it up on the fly. “If you kill me you lose your only link to them.”
He let go and I slumped to the floor, rubbing my neck. “Thanks for your restraint.”
Bodyguard snarled. “My honor has been insulted with the death of my client. That has earned quick death for those responsible.” His eyes were still locked on me. “Except if I find that it is you after all. Deception added to insult will make your death slow and painful.”
I nodded slowly, and fervently hoped I wasn't deceiving him. Kzinti earn high as bodyguards because they make the consequences of even a successful attack too severe for the most determined assassin. Any smuggler who gets to Centauri System knows better than to cross a kzin. Their honor code demands vengeance regardless of cost, and they're all too enthusiastic about following it.
I went over to the bed and sat down. The tiny space was barely big enough for me. With me and a hostile kzin it was decidedly claustrophobic. “What happened after the Constellation?”
“Hrrr. Opal boarded the ship with you.”
“What was in the package?”
“She was the package.”
I tried to control my surprise. “Did you see her get on?”
“Yes. I watched until the ship left. Her safety was my responsibility.”
“Tell me what you know, about Opal, about anything that might be important.”
He turned over a paw and studied his extended talons. “Dr. Stone is senior vice president for finance at the Consortium.”
“Dr. Stone?” My eyebrows went up. I had assumed she had a bodyguard because she was a holo actress. Now I knew better, and the news wasn't good. I was in way over my head. It occurred to me that she hadn't said a word to me in the entire encounter in the Constellation. Had she said anything on board Elektra?
“Where was she going?”
“Jinx.”
“And when she got to Jinx?”
“I do not know that.”
“Do you usually go with her on trips?”
“Sometimes. At other times not. I am not privy to the details of her business arrangements.”
Another advantage of kzinti bodyguards is their lack of insight into the subtleties of human interaction. Opal Stone, what were you doing that you needed some desperate singleship pilot to take a brain blank? I might have refused to take her if I knew who she was. Relations between the Consortium and us independents are hardly smooth. And why didn't she take a Consortium ship?
I needed the money badly, but if I'd thought a little more carefully I never would have taken the job. A brain blank is just too serious. I'd counted on myself to be smart enough to not get into exactly this kind of trouble. Obviously I'd been wrong. Whoever framed me had done a good job.
Whoever had framed me. When I put it that way there was only one answer. Opal Stone worked for the Consortium, at war with the rockjacks and controlled by Reston Jameson. The room had a vidwall and on a hunch I pointed up Reston's last interview. It was dated yesterday, and his image filled the screen.
“… very upset about this. This man already has a record for smuggling. I have being saying all along that the cost of allowing these fly-by-night singleship operators…”
I muted the audio and pointed texttrans along the bottom of the image so I didn't have to listen to his voice. He mentioned me by name and the t
hrust of his argument was the same as it always been. The major lines could handle cargo and passengers, the major exploration companies could handle prospecting and mining, and the murder of Opal wouldn't have happened if only…
I switched it off in disgust, unable even to read the text. He was going to use me as an excuse to shut down the singleships. I couldn't believe he was holding my smuggling record as a strike against me. Every pilot smuggled, it was practically expected.
“I smell your tension, Dylan Thurmond.” Bodyguard wrinkled his nose in way that suggested my tension didn't smell very good.
Would Reston Jameson kill one of his own senior directors? It didn't seem likely, but the only other explanation was that I had killed Opal myself and I wasn't willing to accept that one. “I think I know what's going on.” Who else could have sent her to Jinx?
“Enlighten me.”
“Reston Jameson kills Opal and get me blamed. He uses the public outcry to shut down the independent operators. The immediate target is singleships, but it's the rockjacks he's after, of course.” I shrugged. “Simple.” Simple to say, probably impossible to prove.
Bodyguard laid one ear flat. “I am unconvinced.”
“Grant for a second I didn't do it. Can you think of a better motive?”
“Yes.” He wasn't believing me.
“What if she was challenging him for power in the Consortium?”
“Irrelevant. I now have two suspects. Convince me that Reston Jameson is guilty and I will kill him instead of you.”
I watched him for the rippling ears that would show he was joking, but he was dead serious. He wouldn't care that an attempt on Reston Jameson's life would almost certainly end his own. Kzinti were like that. Nor would he hesitate to kill me if he decided he wanted to.
“Help me find the truth and you can act with confidence and honor.”
Bodyguard's lips twitched. “What do monkeys know of honor?” His claws edged out reflexively. “It seems our interests are aligned, Dylan Thurmond.”
I took that as agreement. “Something went badly wrong. I must have anticipated problems when I got back. I would have made some kind of record to protect myself from exactly this circumstance.”
“What sort of record?”
“Elektra's log is the most obvious answer, but perhaps that's too obvious. There are wheels within wheels here. Somewhere only I would look for it.” I thought for moment. “I wrote her name on my palm. There're a few places on the ship I could think of.”
“Then we should get on the ship, Dylan Thurmond.”
We tubed over to the hangar bay. I could get on my own ship without disturbing the police seals over the airlocks, but when we got there we found not just seals but guards. That was a setback I probably should have expected, the Goldskins were taking no chances. Instead of crawling on board through the drive inspection ports we went up to the Constellation and got a table with a sound damper, and I tapped into the ship on my beltcomp. I wasn't really surprised to see the log empty for the last three weeks, that was expected for this kind of mission. I was slightly more surprised to see the automatically recorded navigation journal also blanked. The same was true of the engine logs. As I tabbed through Elektra's records more and more information was missing. There was only one person who had the access codes to do that. Me.
I tabbed over to Ceres flight control to check their records. They had logged Elektra departing and returning, and had her course plotted by transponder tracking to the edge of the singularity into hyperspace and then back again three weeks later. I was a little surprised at that, with all the secrecy I would've expected to have flown with the transponder off. That would be the course the Goldskins were having the Navy search. They had the radar and computing power required to track a pebble if they knew its start vector. If Opal's body was out there, they would find it sooner or later. They'd be in communication with the authorities on Jinx to get a similar search done there. Neels' promise to find her had teeth in it.
Which wasn't a very warming thought. Why are you worried? You didn't kill her. I wasn't sure I believed that anymore. Her blood was on Elektra, that was proof she'd been there. If someone is on a ship when it leaves and isn't there when it comes back the odds that they will be found alive are zero. A frame by Reston Jameson was enough of a theory to keep Bodyguard from killing me immediately, but it really didn't seem to fit the evidence. He was certainly seizing on the incident to press his agenda, but that wasn't enough of a motive for murder.
I went back to Elektra's systems and systematically went through every log file. Internal and external video, audio, communications log, they were all blank except one, engineering systems. Elektra monitors her own vital signs automatically, and for some reason that data was still intact. Unfortunately it was unlikely to hold any relevant information. I scanned the entries anyway, and saw only the activity you'd expect to see for a three-week round-trip, air pressure nominal, cabin temperature, fuel flow, power flow, gravity levels, coolant temperature and pressure; there was nothing unusual there. Evidence perhaps that the trip had been made, but little else.
Except one thing. There was a small blip upward in cabin pressure right before departure. That was normal, because once I had the locks sealed I valved liquid oxygen inboard to pressurize the cabin and make sure it held steady against any possible leaks. There were the normal slow waverings in pressure as the cabin temperature and other variables changed, and finally there was another blip downward at the end of the three weeks. That was when the ship was back in the bay and I vented the cabin to equalize pressure inside and out. If Opal Stone had gotten out at Jinx, or anywhere, that pattern would have cycled twice, once for each leg of the trip. And if she'd left through the airlock in space there would have been the small but distinctive up/down pressure blip caused by the airlock cycling.
So if she hadn't gotten out at Jinx, and she hadn't gone through the airlock, where had she gone? And how did her blood get all over Elektra? I went over the rest of the life-support data and found another anomaly. The CO2 scrubbers had been working half again as hard as I would have expected them to for two people. Had someone else been aboard, stowed away perhaps? Had that person killed Opal and then vanished along with her body? That made no sense.
“What are you learning?” Bodyguard was growing impatient.
“Nothing.” I pushed the beltcomp away. “The log is blank. There are some question marks in the system records, but nothing that will lead us anywhere here.” I briefly outlined my findings.
“Hrrr. We need progress, human.”
I leaned back and looked up through the dome at the eternal and indifferent stars. “We have to speak to Reston Jameson.”
“I remain unconvinced of his involvement.”
“We have to talk to him to find out.”
“Hrrr. This will be difficult.”
I nodded. We sat in silence for a while. The more I thought of it the less likely it seemed Reston Jameson was even involved. Tying him in had been the first half-plausible thing that leapt to mind under threat of having my throat ripped out. The vidwall started showing the news and I watched the moving heads and read the texttrans scrolling beneath them. It was the usual fluff, a flood down on Earth, some struldbrug trapped in a tube capsule for twelve hours, a rockjack killed in a fight with another rockjack. They did the shipping news and then the business section came up. I was bored by then and ready to leave, and then suddenly I was paying attention to the words scrolling across the screen. The Consortium was under investigation for gross financial misconduct. Reston Jameson was under indictment. The information had been provided by his missing chief financial officer, Opal Stone. Suddenly she had a motive to hire a singleship to fly to Jinx and brainblank the pilot. Suddenly Reston Jameson had a motive for murder. On the face of it, it looked like Opal believed he would act on the motivation. My doubts vanished; unfortunately that didn't help my case any. And now she's gone and There Ain't No Justice.
Bodyguard had
picked up on the significance of the information as well. “Let us waste no time. If it is Reston Jameson we need to speak to, we need to lay our plans. It will not be easy.”
“We could just make an appointment.”
Bodyguard rippled his years. “I will watch while you try.”
I took out my beltcomp and referenced his office. His secretary answered, a woman as striking as Opal. Evidently Reston liked to surround himself with beauty. It took me under a minute to learn that Reston Jameson was not only not currently available but would remain unavailable to me for the foreseeable future. She managed to convey the message in a manner that combined impeccable style and grace with the warmth and slickness of an iceberg. She was so perfect in her role that I suspected her of being a digital construct, even though I knew a man like Reston Jameson would use a live secretary for the prestige if nothing else.
I snapped the cover shut on my beltcomp. “Now what?”
Bodyguard showed his teeth. “Now we attack.” I got the feeling it was the answer he'd been waiting for.
Now we attack. He made it sound simple, logical, inevitable, but I was not a military man, not police trained, nothing. I was a pilot, and all my experience as a smuggler had geared me to avoid conflict, not seek it out. Aggressive action would not be simple, and it certainly didn't seem logical to take on the most powerful man in the Belt. I started to say that but Bodyguard's expression kept me silent. He was a kzin in midleap and wasn't about to brook any argument. For a moment I considered trying to slip away, but the Goldskins would have a tag on my ident and I wouldn't be able to get off Ceres. Running would label me as both dishonorable and guilty in Bodyguard's eyes, and he would track me down and kill me. I was along for what might turn out to be a very uncomfortable ride.
Unlike me, Bodyguard was perfectly comfortable with direct action, and he knew how to carry it out. Phase one of attack is reconnaissance, and our first reconnaissance was to identify where we might intercept Reston Jameson in order to extract a confession from him. It wouldn't be easy. He had his own retinue of bodyguards, human ones, and his own tunnel farm, which would have more than its fair share of electronic sentries. We called up a map and the scope of the problem became clear. There was exactly one entry point to his complex, a private tube station. We couldn't even get a tube car to stop there without an invitation code, and if we somehow managed to clear that hurdle we'd simply be turned around by the guards. We needed another option, and I couldn't see it.
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