The Relativity Bomb

by Arlene F. Marks

  Townsend had to repress a shudder at the image that popped into his mind. “I gather one of the roles he picked was ‘protector’ or ‘rescuer’?”

  “Yes, but only because ‘avenger’ wasn’t on the menu,” said Teri.

  “Perfect.”

  Now Holchuk was leaning forward, his lips curving slowly into a smile. “Is this another one of your crazy schemes that will make the Doc throw up her hands in frustration?”

  “Only if she finds out about it,” Townsend told him, “and with luck, she never will.” Speaking to Teri once more, he went on, “What does Karlov know about the way U-Town operates?”

  Her eyebrows drew together in a delicate frown. “I’ve explained to him that some of the characters are fictional and the rest are avatars, representing real people, and that all their activities take place in cyberspace.”

  “Does he know how to tell which characters are fictional and which aren’t?”

  “There is no way to tell,” she said. “Everyone in U-Town is a computer construct, and the avatars have made-up names to protect the privacy of the subscribers who designed them.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Just what have you got in mind, boss man?”

  “Does it involve Rob O’Malley?” Teri challenged him, her eyes narrowing. When he didn’t reply immediately, she went on, “It does, doesn’t it? You’re going to let him mess with the characters in U-Town. Well, you tell that little hacker that if he kills off anyone I care about, I’ll make him sorry he ever started!” And you too! said her expression as she stared directly into Townsend’s face.

  He’d brought U-Town to the Hub so she wouldn’t kill him for inviting the Ranger detachment to her concert earlier, and it had worked. Too well, apparently, since he might now have to bribe her — with what, he hadn’t the slightest idea — not to kill O’Malley for touching her favorite toy.

  “Teri, whatever he does to U-Town, it won’t be permanent, I promise. All the files will be backed up, and I’ll make sure he restores them after we’ve wrapped the con. We just need Karlov to believe that one of the avatars belongs to a murderer.”

  “And who do you plan to cast in the role of this murderer?” she demanded to know. Once again he waited a second too long to reply. “It’s O’Malley, isn’t it? I knew it! He’s going to massacre my family!”

  Holchuk was having trouble keeping a straight face. “Drink your chocolate, Tiger,” he told her, patting her on the arm. “It’ll be all right.” Then, addressing Townsend, he said, “So, you’re turning the soap opera into a mystery thriller. You don’t actually think Karlov will abandon his mission on Daisy Hub to go charging to the rescue of a bunch of characters in a virtual reality town, do you?”

  “You said yourself that the line between fantasy and reality seems to blur for him when he’s immersed in that program, that he talks about the characters as though they’re alive. What I’m hoping is that once his favorites start dying, he’ll become obsessed with the mystery and put off snatching Yoko until he’s solved it. It’s an imperfect solution, but it should buy us enough time to deal with our more immediate problems. Speaking of which—”

  “You know, things would be a whole lot simpler if we just shoved him out an airlock.”

  Townsend gave him a look. “Forget about killing him. If we take him out of play, the European gene brokers will just send another agent, putting us back to square one. Karlov is a known quantity. We have a way to contain him, and as long as he remains in position to carry out his orders, his employers will wait to see what happens. That’s what we need right now.”

  “Fine, then,” Holchuk said with a sigh. “But you said there were two things?”

  “Yes. Apparently, two ships of House Trokerk were involved in the latest tekl’hananni match, the Krronn and one other I’ve never heard of, and they’ll both be arriving here in about thirty-eight hours.”

  “You’ll need two different welcoming speeches, then, one per Chief Officer. What have you done lately that could be described as a battle victory?”

  Townsend had to think. “I managed to get Rodrigues off the station without letting him find out about Karlov or either of the rats we have aboard. Does that work?”

  “It does. Yoko is our tseritsa, the symbol of our House, so the Nandrians would consider protecting her to be an act of great honor. All right, boss man, you’ll have your speeches, in plenty of time to learn them. I’ll make you sound like one of the heroes in those flat-screen videos Lu is always watching.”

  — «» —

  Thirty-eight hours.

  O’Malley was waiting for Townsend in AdComm, wearing a smug grin. He had evidently turned up something interesting. The ratkeeper was a natural data miner. In between assignments he did it for fun, and he usually struck pay dirt.

  Drew eased himself into the chair behind his desk and gestured to O’Malley to sit down as well. “What have you found?”

  “You asked me to look into Harry Mintz. Teri was right. He did have big, important friends.”

  “He did,” Drew echoed. “But not anymore?”

  O’Malley’s eyes were laughing. “Listen to this, boss. It’s a story worthy of U-Town. Harry Mintz was a mid-level white collar in the distribution of drugs off-world. Mostly gray market medicinal, but he had a piece of the recreational pie as well. A couple of years ago, people started dying off-world from taking prescribed doses of medicinal drugs. Space Installation Security launched a covert investigation. Turns out the meds had been spiked with something that boosted their effect. Any prescribed dose became an overdose. Someone leaked the results of the investigation, and suddenly every finger was pointing at Harry Mintz.”

  “Of course. He was the patsy.”

  “His Eligibility was revoked to keep him from leaving Earth. Teri had already divorced him at that point. Naturally, the tabs began building up expectations of a big, splashy trial. But it never materialized. According to the database, all charges were quietly dropped and his Eligibility was reinstated.”

  Townsend smiled. Patsies weren’t entirely helpless, as any cop would know. “He must have pulled the plug on his bosses. I remember hearing something about a major drug ring bust on Ginza Hub, shortly before I came here.”

  “And something else is supposed to have happened around the time you arrived, boss. I found a couple of death notices, one for Harry Mintz and one for Teri Martin. According to the database, they passed away one day apart on Vegas Hub. Digging a little deeper, I came up with a pair of Security files. Put together they’re not much thicker than the one on Bruni Patel, but I thought you’d appreciate knowing the details.

  “The resident M.E. on Vegas Hub ruled both deaths accidental drug overdoses. No autopsy reports, but circumstantial evidence pointing to cause of death was apparently overwhelming in each case. Quiet funerals, private shivas. Strictly a back-page filler.”

  Dark suspicion began twisting uneasily in Townsend’s mind.

  Vegas Hub had been where Teri thought she was going when she came out to the airfield that day. Someone had diverted her to Daisy Hub instead and had then faked her death, and probably Harry’s as well. Someone with deep pockets and a lot of influence and a vested interest in keeping her — or both of them — alive.

  It couldn’t be the EIS. Earth Intelligence had staffed the Hub in anticipation of Townsend’s arrival. They’d handpicked people with particular knowledge and expertise to operate and protect the station. A previous station manager had even drawn up a list of desirable qualifications and had left it in the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet for Drew to find. Nowhere on that wish list had the words “singer” or “entertainer” appeared.

  So, what was Teri Mintz doing on Daisy Hub?

  A chill crept across Drew’s shoulders as the answer came to him. Turn him or terminate him. And if he turns, make the safety of someone he cares about part
of the deal.

  Teri hadn’t been posted to the Hub by her ex-husband pulling strings with the Relocation Authority. She’d been sent here by Space Installation Security as a hostage. If Harry backed out or tried to play them, someone with a kill order would be dispatched to the Hub. Someone Rodrigues might or might not be able to head off. It was not a happy prospect to contemplate.

  “So what do you think, boss?” said O’Malley with a twinkle in his voice. “Is Harry Mintz still alive somewhere, using manufactured creds?”

  “I’ve no doubt he is, courtesy of his big, important friends,” Townsend mused aloud. “Does Teri suspect any of this?”

  “Nope. Anytime she mentions her ex-husband’s name, I keep expecting her to spit on the deck. She’s convinced he derailed her career out of spite.”

  “Good. Let’s just keep it that way. In the meanwhile, we have a couple of crises to deal with, and I have a special assignment for you, one that I think you’ll enjoy.”

  A speculative gleam came into the ratkeeper’s eyes. “Is it a con? It is, isn’t it? Who’s the mark?”

  Townsend leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Karlov. We need to convince him that a serial killer is loose in U-Town, taking out all his favorite characters one by one. This needs to be a mystery, and I want it to be both irresistible and unsolvable. Can you make that happen without permanently modifying any of the programming?”

  O’Malley’s face lit up. “Piece of cake, boss. There’s plenty of space on the SPA server. I can back everything up, then write-protect the original files and work with the backup copy. It won’t take long to build a serial-killer avatar — don’t worry, I’ll make sure it doesn’t look like anyone on the station — or, even better, I can hack the programming of one of the existing characters and turn it evil. Or maybe I’ll do both and have one of them be a copycat. That’ll drive him really crazy. Once the programming is done, I can begin bumping off little VR people right away. Are there any in particular that you want me to terminate?”

  Townsend thought for a moment. “Begin with Brock. Make it grisly. After that, it’s open season on every character he’s friends with. And there’s one more thing: I want you to route the U-Town backup through our SPA room.”

  “Give him the whole experience? That’s a lot more work, but not a problem,” said O’Malley, practically rubbing his hands together with glee.

  “How soon before he can put on his skin?”

  “I can lift his physical parameters from the programs Lydia’s already written for him, so once I’ve added the third dimension to U-Town, the rest should be simple. Assuming no glitches, version 1.0 should be available in just about four hours.”

  “Good. By the way, when the Nandrians arrive, they’ll expect to see Yoko at the welcoming ceremony. How is she doing?”

  O’Malley’s expression morphed from impish to sheepish. “I was going to talk to you about that, boss.”

  This did not bode well. The Doc hadn’t been happy about moving the rat to O’Malley’s quarters long-term, but Drew had insisted. He could just imagine what her reaction would be if Yoko came to any harm as a result.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked warily. “Is she sick?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”

  Townsend stared incredulously into the ratkeeper’s face as a torrent of ugly possibilities rushed through his mind. They had been so busy distracting Karlov. Had he figured out a way to complete his mission in spite of them? Or had Karlov himself been a distraction? Was there a second agent concealed aboard the Hub?

  Finally, Drew managed to say, “You’ve lost Yoko? How?”

  “When I woke up this morning, her cage was open and she was gone.”

  “Did Karlov know that she was in your quarters? Could he have sneaked in during the night?”

  “Not a chance, boss,” O’Malley assured him. “The Doc had me watchdog the room. Ten different alarms would have gone off if anyone had even tried to open the door. Y’know what, though? I’ll bet Yoko went walkabout. She does that when she’s stressed.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “She’s known how to unlock her cage for a long time now. She only stays in it as a courtesy to us. And every once in a while, she lets herself out and goes for a relaxing stroll. Don’t worry, boss, she always comes back.”

  “But — how would she get past the watchdogs and out of your quarters in the middle of the night?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe she opened the ventilation grate. Rats are natural escape artists. Even one as large as Yoko can squeeze through incredibly narrow spaces.”

  “She opened the—!” Drew stopped to take a slow, calming breath before continuing. “So you figure she’s simply wandering around on the station? Unwinding from the stress of being confined to a cage inside your quarters?”

  As he heard himself utter these words, he had to stifle the urge to laugh. She was a rat, for heaven’s sake! No, he reminded himself, becoming instantly sober, she was the Überrat — a very old, very large, and very intelligent animal. And O’Malley was the crew member who knew her best. “Okay, then. But you’d better pray that you’re right, and that she’s smart enough to keep out of sight around Max Karlov. Ruby,” he hollered across the deck, “where the hell is Lydia?”

  “Mom” hurried over to him. “She’s gone to Med Services. What’s wrong, Chief? Besides all the other stuff, I mean.”

  “Can you tell me where Karlov is right now?”

  “According to Lydia’s console, he’s in Med Services as well. Oh, and the Doc wants me to tell you not to panic, but when she went into her lab this morning, the black and white rat was missing from her cage. She’s probably just found herself a hidey-hole somewhere on H Deck. Yoko does that too, sometimes, when she needs to take a break from being around us crazy Humans.”

  Townsend shot a look at O’Malley, who was already on his feet and walking toward the tube car.

  “I think I’ll go check out the evac pods,” he tossed over his shoulder.

  Yeah, you do that, thought Drew.

  — «» —

  “Each letter has a name as well as a sound. This one is fehu, meaning ‘cattle’,” Karlov explained. The symbol he was pointing to did look sort of like an Anglo ‘F’. If she tilted her head and squinted a little, Lydia could see that it also resembled a squished cow. It was a vertical stick with two other sticks angled upward from the mid-point of its right side. The ‘B’, the ‘R’, the ‘H’, ‘I’, and ‘S’ were also similar to their Anglo counterparts, but made up of nothing but straight lines, as though they were normally carved out with a short, sharp edge rather than being drawn with a pen or brush.

  Surreptitiously making notes on her compupad, Lydia was realizing just how old this alphabet must be.

  “How do you know these letters?” asked the Doc.

  “I learned them as a child,” he replied matter-of-factly.

  “Learned to write them? Or just read them?”

  “Both. Why are you so curious about my first language?”

  Lydia nearly dropped her ’pad. This was his first language? Before the Doc could reply, she cut in, “It’s because of the cookies, Max. They were delicious, by the way. You told Nora that the letters spelled your name. So we were wondering—”

  Too late. He’d realized his mistake and put his guard up. Glancing around the lab, he spotted the empty cage on the Doc’s work table and did a double take.

  “Where is Akiko?” he demanded.

  The Doc’s eyes widened. “Akiko? You mean the rat you brought with you to the station? I don’t know, but I’m sure she’s safe.”

  In a single rapid movement, his large hand wrapped tightly around the Doc’s wrist, pulling an exclamation of surprise from her lips. His good eye bored into her face as he dragged her halfway across the table toward him. “You have to find
her,” he said in a harsh, whispery voice. “She is more valuable than you can imagine.”

  “I can imagine a lot more than you think,” the Doc told him through gritted teeth.

  “It’s all right, Max,” broke in Lydia, “we’ve already notified the station manager and he’s going to order a complete search of the Hub.”

  “Not good enough,” he decided. Throwing the Doc’s wrist back at her, he wheeled and stalked out the door. Not until it closed behind him did the two women let out the breath they’d been holding.

  The Doc’s came out as a groan. She leaned backward, cradling her wrist with her other hand.

  Fearing the worst, Lydia asked, “Is it broken?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s purpling up, so there’s definitely tissue damage. I should probably check the bones for cracks. And I’m getting the distinct feeling that we’ve just opened Pandora’s box.”

  Lydia was already keying commands into the Doc’s computer. “That’s because we have,” she replied tautly, “and her name is Akiko. You can scan your wrist later. Right now we have to save Drew. Karlov is pissed and on his way up to AdComm. I’ve accessed the tube system and can slow down the car he’s in. I just need you to summon the cavalry.”

  “Oh, I’ll do more than that,” muttered the Doc, rubbing her bruised wrist.

  When Karlov finally stepped out onto C Deck, he found Drew Townsend sitting stern-faced behind his desk, flanked by two members of the Hub’s Security force, Ozzie Deniro and Schuyler Tate.

  “Mister Karlov,” Townsend greeted him, “have a seat. We need to talk.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Tekl’hananni didn’t have to be a test of physical strength. Sometimes it was a test of moral fiber, or of will power. In Townsend’s case, it was evidently a test of nerves. Right now, his weren’t faring too well, and the disappearances of Yoko and her sister hadn’t helped.

  There were just thirty-seven hours left before the Nandrian ships — plural — arrived.

  And now this.