Queen of Nowhere

by Jaine Fenn

  He did. She followed. From the look of the wide hallway, Administrator Valdt was a collector oflarge-canvas 2-D artworks, mainly of the erotic variety. He was also untidy, as might be expected from a busy man who lived alone.

  She followed Tierce as he made an initial recon of the apartment. They found the rooms to be large, well appointed and, with the exception of the main lounge, unoccupied. This room housed, along with hardcopy books, expensive furniture and a comprehensive ents unit, a half-metre-Iong, lizard-like creature, which dozed under a sunlamp in the terrarium along one wall.

  Tierce said, ‘How about I do a full physical search while you see what you can find data-wise?’

  Bez found his tendency to give her first refusal on everything simultaneously reassuring and irritating. ‘Agreed.’

  On the few previous occasions Bez had searched people’s accommodation, she had known what she was looking for - usually dataspikes - but this was a trickier proposition. And although she had commed Cusa to confirm that Valdt was still at work before they had set out, he could have arranged for the building system to alert him if anyone turned up unexpectedly. Even now, he might be rushing home to find out what that anomalous delivery was …

  Bez applied the best-case principle and halted further unhelpful speculation.

  She moved around the different rooms, accessing the house system direct from her head ware. She was increasingly at home in Gracen’s infoscape, and confident her personal tech would leave no trace. There was no internal security, and she found only the expected environmental controls and monitoring systems linked to supply/re-order routines. Scanning recent purchases, Bez was mildly disconcerted to find that Valdt’s pet preferred live food; young avian-analogues by the look of it. She also discovered a booking for an additional pickup of recyclables outside the building’s scheduled collections.

  ‘Found this.’ Bez, standing in Valdt’s gleaming if over-full kitchen, looked up at Tierce’s voice. He held out a slate. ‘It was in a desk drawer,’ he added.

  Bez put the slate down on one of the clear surfaces, leaving Tierce to continue searching the apartment. She interfaced with the slate by degrees, wary of security. A lot of what she found was office work, the kind of complex mundane trivia she would expect on the personal comp of a high-ranking bureaucrat. But she also got his diary, which included a couple of interesting entries.

  As Tierce was still busy, she dug deeper into the personal files on the slate and found various image stashes. Some were family/

  social snapshots, but others, protected by Valdt’s amateurish attempts at encryption, were porn of the hardest variety. Between the apartment artwork and what she had found on the slate, Bez had already worked out that Valdt preferred women to men and liked his sex somewhat rough, but some of the hidden files turned her stomach. When she came across high-definition footage of a young girl being beaten and kicked by a pair of obviously aroused men carrying short batons and wearing nothing but masks, she blinked herself back into the real and went to find Tierce.

  He was standing in the living room, hand on chin, looking pensive. The room was somewhat untidier than it had been. ‘Did you find anything?’ she asked.

  ‘Possibly. Here.’ He held out a narrow strip of highly patterned fabric. ‘You’ve been here a while: what does that look like to you?’

  ‘Robe decoration,’ said Bez, examining the fabric without touching it. ‘From a woman’s robe - see the colours and the way the patterns flow into each other? Is that all there is? I can’t tell much from such a small sample.’

  ‘This is all I found. It was in his bedroom cabinet. It doesn’t smell too good.’

  Bez was glad she hadn’t touched the cloth, even though she wore gloves. But what Tierce said chimed with her earlier findings. ‘I think I know where there might be more of this.’ She turned, not waiting to see if he followed her.

  When she reached the apartment’s lobby she stopped. The prophylactic gloves were sufficient to stop them leaving DNA traces, but they were also gossamer thin, so as not to cause loss of sensation when put to their more usual uses. Bez had no intention of thrusting her almost-bare hands into a pervert’s filthy clothes.

  When Tierce came up to stand beside her she pointed at the bag she had originally taken to be dirty washing. ‘In there,’ she said.

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  ‘Valdt’s getting this lot picked up for recycling tomorrow. An additional collection.’

  ‘Disposing of the evidence, you reckon?’ Tierce sounded almost gleeful.

  ‘Possibly, although it’s been several weeks since my agent disappeared.’

  ‘But you reckon it’s worth a look.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you’re expecting me to do the actual looking.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Tierce affected a sigh and crouched down next to the bag. Bez stood back and checked the time. This was taking too long; they needed to think about leaving soon, whether or not they had anything conclusive.

  Tierce straightened. ‘How about this?’ he said. It was a larger strip of fabric, perhaps the bottom third of a robe. Bez spotted a familiar motif. She moved up to get a closer look. ‘I know this pattern,’ she said. ‘Cusa wore a variation on it. I think this is Khea’s robe.’

  ‘So, it looks like he might have killed her,’ said Tierce thought-fully. Bez had had no choice other than to give him the gist of her findings on Alpha83. ‘Have there been any other collections for cloth recycling recently, scheduled or otherwise? I’m thinking he’s been getting rid of the incriminating evidence in several, non-suspicious bits. Other than his trophy piece.’

  ‘This sort of recyclable is collected every two weeks.’

  ‘Perhaps he sent off the first piece then got cold feet.’

  ‘Perhaps. I found some other unusual activity in his diary.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘He’s taken a lot of leave from his job recently, some of it on short notice.’

  ‘Interesting, but not conclusive.’

  ‘Also, he’s been trying to set up a visit to SA-I9.’

  ‘The archive facility?’

  ‘That’s the one.’ Good: so he had read Cusa’s file thoroughly.

  ‘What was your agent after anyway? I’m guessing it’s to do with IDs.’

  Bez hesitated. So far she had given Tierce only intel pertinent to this part of the mission. Now, briefly and uneasily, she told him what she had recruited Alpha83 for. He caught on at once, finishing the explanation for her:

  ‘ … and SA-I9 is the only offline storage facility that keeps ID

  data - the original ID data for everyone ever processed by Valdt’s office - in perpetuity.’

  ‘Indeed it is.’ Bez felt oddly warm all of a sudden.

  ‘Hmm. Then I’d say Valdt’s our man.’

  The warmth might be a physical response to having given so much away to her new ally … No, she was experiencing a blast of heated air from somewhere. Was her robe malfunctioning?

  ‘Bez? What is it?’

  ‘The heat.’

  ‘What about the heat? Oh yes, it is getting warmer, isn’t it?’

  ‘Valdt leaves his apartment at ambient when he’s at work. But he’s got a link to his desk at the ministry; when he signs off for the day, it signals the building’s maintenance system. The heating just came on. That means he’s on his way home.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Tierce didn’t sound overly concerned.

  She needed to remove the slate from the kitchen, and Tierce would have to put that vile scrap of fabric back. Not to mention getting rid of the package they had come here with; they hadn’t even discussed what to do with that. This was what came of acting without proper preparation! Then Bez remembered the state of the living room. ‘What did you do to the lounge?’ she asked.

  ‘I searched it.’

  ‘And you made a mess, didn’t you? More of a mess.’

  ‘I thought the idea was to search quickly but tho
roughly. You never mentioned anything about tidily.’

  ‘We have to clear up! He’ll know someone’s been here!’

  ‘I imagine he will,’ said Tierce.

  ‘But that wasn’t the planl’

  ‘I don’t remember us discussing what would happen if we didn’t find any incriminating evidence.’

  He was right, damn it. She knew what she would do, but it was different once you started working with someone. You had to explain everything. ‘We’d leave, making sure he had no way of knowing we’d been here! What other logical course of action is there?’

  ‘Ah. You can go if you want. I thought I might try … other avenues.’ He reached into his robes.

  ‘You’re not thinking of staying? This man is almost certainly a murderer!’

  ‘In that case,’ he said, producing a small but deadly-looking gun, ‘it’s a good job I brought this, isn’t it?’

  TOO MANY GUNS

  Designation: Target416

  Human alias: Ulenia Mandrew

  Position: Vice President, Currency and Investment, First Allied Bank

  Location: Luftain

  Vulnerabilities: Accused of fraud (two counts) and manslaughter (one count) but never brought to justice.

  She has already been the subject of investigations on her homeworld; the authorities there may be amenable to accepting any evidence presented to facilitate her arrest.

 

  ‘You’ve got to be joking!’

  Given Gracen was meant to be a peaceable and spiritually inclined world, Bez was seeing far too many guns here.

  ‘No. Although I enjoy humour on occasion, this is not one of those moments.’

  Bez remind herself of his role on Tarset station: security without portfolio. Naturally he would have a gun. She wondered whether his secret society had helped him smuggle the weapon down to Gracen. It looked like a needle-pistol, a nasty little weapon favoured by more dubious spacers because it was easily concealed and fired flechettes instead of slugs.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked as evenly as she could.

  ‘Get some answers.’

  ‘Right.’ The situation was becoming more insane by the moment.

  ‘You can go if you want to, although I could use a hand.’

  ‘A hand? Doing what?’

  ‘We’ll need to restrain Valdt. That’s quite tricky when you’re training a gun on someone.’

  ‘So you want me to tie him up?’

  ‘Not tie, as such. He’s got some … specialist equipment.’

  ‘I’ll bet he has,’ she said grimly.

  ‘So, are you staying?’

  Although her instinct was to leave, that would not stop Tierce doing whatever he was going to do. And it might be too late to get away anyway; Valdt’s office was close enough -to his home that she risked passing him on her way out. How would she react if she saw him, knowing what she now knew? ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’ll stay.

  But only to help you restrain him.’

  ‘That’s all I’m asking.’

  They moved the package into the spare bedroom, so Valdt wouldn’t suspect anything when he came in, then Tierce went to fetch the restraints. When he handed her the cunning contraption of chains and bars, she had to force herself to take it. He also had to show her how it worked. She decided not to consider how he knew. ‘Why don’t you wait in the lounge until I call you?’ he suggested.

  Bez nodded, happy to stay out of the way until Tierce needed her. She threw the bondage set onto a chair and stood in the centre of the room, taking deep, careful breaths. Whenever dread threat-ened to get a hold on her, she made herself think of Cusa looking down at her sleeping baby. This was not the way she worked, but perhaps this time, in these circumstances, it was the right way.

  She heard a faint click from the hall.

  A man said, ‘What in the name of the All-Father-?’

  ‘Don’t move.’ Tierce issued the command casually, almost like a suggestion.

  But it was a suggestion backed up with a gun, and Valdt’s voice showed fear as well as bravado when he said, ‘Thou must know I am not a man to be toyed with.’

  ‘Me neither. Hands on your head, please.’ Tierce sounded like he was enjoying himself.

  A pause, presumably while Valdt obeyed. Then Tierce said, 154

  ‘And if you’ll just make your way into the dining room, we’ll be joined there by my lovely assistant.’

  Bez picked up the restraints. When Tierce called back cheerily, ‘Sirrah Valdt is ready for you now!’ she took a deep breath and left the room.

  Tierce had positioned his captive at the head of the impractically large dining table, with his back to the door. Bez was glad of the arrangement as she clicked and ratcheted him into his chair.

  If she had had to look at the man’s face she might have lost her nerve. Her nostrils were full of the rank stench of his fear, and his voice was low and harsh, alternating between cajoling and threats. ‘I see thou art an offworlder, sirrah, so I would surmise someone has hired thee, possibly on false pretences. Let me go and I shall double whatever fee they offered.’ Then, when Tierce didn’t respond, ‘Thou shalt live to regret this outrage! I hold great power here!’

  Despite her eagerness to get away, Bez double-checked the bindings before she straightened.

  Tierce, speaking for the first time since she had come in, called past the bound man to her, ‘See you back at base, then.’

  To her own amazement, she shook her head. ‘No,’ she whispered, ‘I’ll stay, in case…’ In case what? ‘I’ll wait,’ she concluded.

  If she left now, whatever Tierce found out would belong to him.

  Tierce smiled, although it was not a pleasant expression. ‘In that case,’ he said, ‘why don’t you turn on the ents unit? Cover up any sounds from in here, if you see what I mean.’

  Unfortunately, she did.

  When she returned to the living room, the lizard was awake.

  I ts triangular head swung round towards her as she came in. Bez was irrationally convinced it knew what was happening to its master next door. She looked away, and located the controls for the holoset.

  The choice of shows was limited. Bez settled on a gaudy biopic exploring the life of one of Gracen’s most famous saints. She kept glancing over at Valdt’s pet until it finally lowered its head and closed its eyes.

  She tried to give her attention to the improbable life story of an unknown stranger. If nothing else there was an engaging absurd-ity in the way the biopic tried to combine sentiment, melodrama and outbreaks of gore and nudity - not to mention more of that overtonal singing - with piety.

  After one particularly bizarre sequence in which the subject of the biopic rejected both her lovers in order to grow closer to ‘Universal Love’, the action was replaced by a panning long shot of her walking barefoot into the desert. As she receded, so did the soundtrack, becoming no more than a faint thrum.

  Someone screamed, close by. A man, quickly cut off.

  Bez swallowed bile.

  Another sound: sobbing.

  She changed the channel on the holoset, settling on a game show, which had the advantage of providing constant noise. She sprang to her feet and began to pace, careful not to touch anything. After a surreptitious glance at the sleeping lizard to gauge its dimensions, she set about calculating its approximate internal volume: a pleas-ingly complex problem. The holoset’s drawl receded to white noise.

  It took her a moment to register when the door opened. Tierce came in and strode straight over to the terrarium. He opened the lid with one hand, reaching in with the other.

  The lizard went from apparent somnolence to vicious motion in a heartbeat. Tierce whipped his arm out and slammed the lid down as snapping jaws closed on the empty air where his hand had been a fraction of a second before.

  He muttered something under this breath that sounded like, ‘Thought so,’ then drew his needle-pistol. He raised the lid high enough to point
the tip of the gun inside, and pulled the trigger.

  Purple-red blood spattered the inside of the terrarium.

  Bez turned the holoset off. In the deep silence that followed, Tierce finally acknowledged her presence with a nod. Then he turned his attention back to the mess in the terrarium. He rolled up his sleeve and reached in, feeling around the floor of the gore-spattered enclosure. Bez cringed; even with gloves he was going to end up covered in reptile remains.

  Tierce said conversationally, ‘Sirrah Valdt claimed this critter was harmless, but he struck me as the sort of man who would keep something nasty then train it to go for strangers.’

  ‘Actually,’ said Bez, calming down in the wake of Tierce’s sudden violence, ‘its bite is poisonous. Was poisonous.’

  ‘Really?’ Tierce reached in further.

  ‘I can’t imagine any other reason for keeping a supply of anti-venom in one’s cooler.’

  ‘Right.’ Tierce frowned, then said, ‘Got it.’ When he withdrew his arm, his unpleasantly stained hand held a small case that Bez recognised as a protective carrier for dataspikes.

  Suddenly nothing else mattered. ‘Is that it?’ she whispered. ‘Is that the ID data?’

  ‘It’s part of what we came for. As for the rest … I’ll explain en route.’

  ‘En route where?’ Just when she thought she had a moment to come to terms with events, they moved on.

  ‘Initially back to the hotel. As soon as we’re in the atrium, I’ll call us a taxi.’

  ‘We can’t go straight back! Not after … what’s happened here.

  At the very least we need to change taxis.’

  ‘I guess that might be wise.’

  Bez was stunned at his recklessness. ‘And you need to get cleaned up,’ she added.

  ‘Good point. I’ll use the guest bathroom.’

  ‘Urn, make sure you wipe your cheek.’

  ‘My cheek?’

  ‘There’s a smudge on it. I think it’s blood.’ Red blood, not the purplish stuff from the lizard.

  ‘Thanks. Won’t be long.’

  The lizard carcass was beginning to smell, but Bez was loath to leave the room for fear of finding worse outside. She clenched her fists, calculated a few cube roots from her chrono, and concentrated on not being sick. By the time Tierce stuck his head round the door, she had her physical responses under control. ‘Let’s go,’ he said.