“I’m not sure, I don’t see anything on the screens. It could be on the bridge.”
“No. It wasn’t from that direction. Sounded more topside.”
“I’m checking, just hang on.”
Hamilton stopped running and waited patiently.
“I’ve found it!” Klane said excitedly. “It’s Smith, the engineer. He’s lying in the upper corridor between the two science labs.”
“I told you to tell me if anyone wasn’t in the forward lab!” Hamilton said, accusingly.
“He was in the aft engine room. He was on his way to the lab. He was the only one left.”
Hamilton began moving again, heading in the right direction. “Everyone else is in the lab?”
“Everyone.” she confirmed.
Hamilton rode the elevator to the midships lab and then cautiously entered the upper corridor.
Smith lay not far from him, face down. Hamilton could see nobody else. He moved forward slowly.
There was a large bloodstain on the back of Smith’s overalls, but only a relatively small hole in them. He lay in a large pool of blood. Hamilton noted that it was a heart shot. Steeling himself, he turned the body over.
Smith had been shot in the back. The slug had passed through his body, deforming as it went. The exit wound in his chest was large enough to accommodate Hamilton’s fist. The floor underneath Smith was drenched in blood. There was no sign of a weapon. Hamilton wasn’t surprised. This was hardly a suicide.
He straightened. “Klane?”
“Yeah?”
“Smith’s dead. Did you see anybody else at all in this area?”
“Nobody. I told you, everyone else is in the forward lab.”
Jones’ voice came on the line. “Did you just say what I thought you said?”
“That’s right.” Hamilton said. “Jones, I want you to come down here and help me seal off this corridor.”
“OK.”
“Klane, as soon as he’s out, seal the door and the elevator that lead from the lab. I don’t want anybody leaving.”
“Understood. You want me to stay here afterwards?”
“Yeah, you’d better. It appears we have a stowaway on board.”
Jones and Hamilton sealed off the ramps leading down to the upper accommodation level and had Klane seal the door to the other lab, too. Their ramp sealing was more symbolic than functional, being composed mainly of multicoloured strips of electrical tape stretched across the entrances. Hamilton then examined Smith carefully.
The man had no other wounds. He had a look of profound surprise on his face. He had nothing else on him.
“Klane?” Hamilton called.
“Yeah?”
“Smith was on your check-out list. What did you find out about him?”
“Not a vast amount,” she replied. “He was mild mannered, polite, and totally dedicated to his work. If you’re asking me if he had any enemies, I don’t think so. He kept to himself, as far as I could tell.”
“OK, thanks. How’s it going with the rest of the ship?”
“Nothing moving. The bridge monitors are still out though.”
“Fine. Keep at it.”
Hamilton then returned to Jones, who had chosen to remain at the top of one of the partly closed off ramps.
“All done?” The black man asked.
Hamilton nodded. “For now.”
“Ok. Let’s finish sealing it.”
The pair taped over the remaining opening and then headed down to the security room. Klane greeted them.
“Find out anything useful?” she inquired.
Hamilton sighed. “I don’t know what the hell is going on around here anymore!” He paused to scratch his stubbly chin. “Smith was shot in the back from close range, probably less than twenty feet. It looks like a medium calibre, hollow point round to me. He died instantly.”
“Did you find the bullet?” Klane inquired.
Hamilton shook his head. “I found where it went. Into one of the walls. We’ll get one of the engineers to dig it out – what’s left of it, anyway. Speaking of which,” He remembered. “I’ll have to get someone to repair the damage caused to that power conduit down by the mess area.”
“I take it that the device wasn’t a bomb?” Jones queried.
“No,” Hamilton replied. “I don’t know what it is. I’d better go and get it. I want you to look at it Jones.”
“Sure.” Jones agreed. “I’ll come with you.”
The pair returned to the ramp. Jones viewed the damaged conduit professionally. Hamilton, meanwhile, scouted around for the box he had dropped. He found the soldering iron, fibre-optic probe and toolkit, but was unable to find the device. Jones also searched but with no effect. It had disappeared.
“I’m starting to hate this mission!” Hamilton growled. “OK. I’ve had enough of this tippy toe-ing around. Let’s get back.”
The pair returned to the security room. Klane greeted them again. She reported that no-one had moved along the ramp since Hamilton had last been there. They ran the monitor footage from the ramp but the box Hamilton had dropped had been out of sight of the camera.
“They’re getting restless in the lab.” Klane observed.
“Too bad.” Hamilton muttered.
“What are we going to do?” Jones asked. He was looking worried.
“OK. First things first.” Hamilton said. “We get our gear from our cabins together. Then we search the ship thoroughly, with all our equipment, until we find whoever’s lurking aboard. Then we interrogate everybody thoroughly. No more mister nice-guy.”
“What about the populace in the lab?” Klane asked.
“Leave them there until we’ve searched the ship.”
“They won’t like it.” Jones observed.
“Tough.” Hamilton answered. “You man the console while Klane and I get our gear.”
“OK.” Jones agreed, taking over from Klane.
Hamilton and Klane then headed down to their cabins. The trip was short and they soon arrived at the accommodation areas. They each disappeared into their respective cabin.
Hamilton emerged first, after some fifteen minutes. He wore his battered armour, the insignia barely readable. Over the top of that he wore a simple combat harness from which hung a variety of grenades. Pouches bulged with ammunition clips and his combat scanner hung from the waist belt. Also around his waist were belted two pistols, the huge slug-thrower and the mini-launcher. The laser pistol was in a shoulder holster. He toted the bag and weapons’ cases.
Hamilton waited patiently for Klane to come out.
She emerged eventually, and even Hamilton’s eyes bulged. If he looked ominous in his grenade-studded armour, then she looked like a vision of darkness.
She, like Hamilton, wore body armour. But the similarity ended there. Klane’s armour was several degrees above Hamilton’s in effectiveness and impressiveness. Her armour was black, much bulkier than Hamilton’s and designed to stop far more than just bullets. It was polished to a high reflectiveness and Hamilton could see his impressed face in it. The armour, he knew, was typically that used by counter-terrorist organisations. It was fully sealable against the environment and space worthy. He wondered how Klane had gotten hold of such a suit.
In addition, like him, she wore a combat harness, also black. From it hung grenades, ammunition clips and a combat scanner which were all black. High up on her back a small backpack appeared to be attached. In reality, this was part of her armoured suiting, containing air filters, monitors and the suit’s management computer. She held the suit’s helmet under one arm. Hamilton knew that the computer would relay information from the scanner and project it onto the interior of the faceplate so that she wouldn’t have to look down to read results.
As for weaponry she had the equivalent of a laser pistol built into each forearm but this was apparently not sufficient for her. A huge sidearm was strapped to her right thigh and an enormous knife, or machete, hung to her left. The blade had to
be twenty inches, Hamilton guessed. A smaller knife, only eight inches or so, was strapped to her opposite ankle.
He walked over to her, grinning. “Now I know why your bag was so bulky. I feel positively scruffy.”
“So you should.” she agreed. “I haven’t seen you look at me like that for a long time.”
“It has been a while, hasn’t it.” He agreed.
There was an awkward silence between the pair that lasted some moments. Finally he chuckled, ending the moment, then pointed at her gun. “What the Hell is that?”
She smiled knowingly and pulled the gun from its holster. Hamilton had thought his pistol was the largest handgun in existence. He was proved wrong.
The weapon was about fifteen inches long and looked very heavy. She hefted it with ease in her mechanical hand.
“It’s a pistol.” she said sarcastically. “I thought you would have learned to recognize them by now.”
“Sure, sure,” Hamilton agreed. “And I’m the Emperor. Now, what does it do?”
“Well,” she began, innocently. “You point it at someone, pull the trigger and it kills them.”
Hamilton scowled menacingly. Or at least, as menacingly as he could manage when faced with the likes of Klane.
She smiled in amusement. “All right! All right. It’s a combined laser and MF pistol.”
“MF pistol?” Hamilton scorned. “I thought they only made MF rifles?”
“Why do you think it’s so big?” she replied.
“What calibre MF?”
“Two millimetre.”
“Is that all. I thought they went up to six?”
“Not for pistols. The barrel isn’t long enough to build up to hypersonic velocities with anything larger than two mill.”
Hamilton frowned. “What do you want with a magnetic field weapon, anyway?’
She shrugged. “I like the noise it makes. Plus, it doesn’t cause any trouble to the collimators in the laser. A normal pistol would jump about too much, cause too much shaking.”
“That figures.” He grinned. “But what’s the story with the laser anyhow? Aren’t two enough for you?”
“Oh, the suit lasers are fine, but not too powerful. A modest defense field disperses their beams enough to make them useless. This,” She hefted the pistol. “Can retain enough coherence to penetrate even strong fields.”
Hamilton raised his eyebrows. “How strong a field?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I haven’t had it for long. But I burned away one of those cheap defence drones that mercenaries buy to protect their camps. They have reasonable fields.”
Hamilton rubbed his chin. “Hmmm, not bad. But I bet it takes a lot of power to run it.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “That’s what the belt pack is for.”
She twisted a belt at her waist to display the large power unit that hung behind her. She pulled a coiled cable loose and attached the free end to the pistol.
“Isn’t that a little restricting?” he asked.
“Not really. You make adjustments, turning your body as well as your arm.”
Hamilton shrugged. “C’mon, let’s get back.”
She nodded and the pair set off, retracing their route to the security room.
Jones was grim when they entered. “You can’t seriously be thinking of wandering around in that get-up?”
The pair nodded. “Of course.” They replied together.
“Do you realise how much fear that stuff will engender?” Jones persisted.
“That’s the general idea, Jones.” Hamilton explained. “Maybe it will make someone frightened enough to make a mistake.”
“Then we can step on them.” Klane added, stamping her armoured foot for emphasis.
“Vogerian won’t like it.” Jones pointed out.
“That’s too bad,” Hamilton said. “There’s been a murder. Until I find the culprit I’m not going anywhere without a weapon. It was obvious Smith didn’t know his death was upon him. If the assassin is that good then we need the edge this armour gives us.”
Jones shrugged. “It’s not me you have to convince.”
“Vogerian won’t complain too much.” Hamilton stated.
Jones shrugged. “OK. What next?”
Hamilton considered. “Klane and I will search the ship with our scanners. It doesn’t appear if our assailant likes our security monitors.”
“I suppose I’m to stay here?” Jones speculated.
Hamilton nodded. “For now. How’s our crew holding up?”
“They started playing up a few minutes ago, but I calmed them down.”
“Good work. If they start any real trouble give us a call. We’ll go along and sort them out.”
“OK.” Jones said. “Say, I don’t suppose you have any spare armour, do you?”
Hamilton burst out laughing. “Sure you wouldn’t look ridiculous?”
Jones scowled. “OK. Forget I asked.”
“I have an old bullet-proof jacket.” Klane offered. “It’d be a little large, of course, but we can adjust the straps.”
Jones nodded. “That sounds fine.” He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. “I won’t look stupid, will I?”
Hamilton renewed his laughter. Klane scowled at him, then replied to Jones. “No, you’ll be fine, provided you wear something over the top of it.”
Jones exhaled in relief. “Good. I don’t want anyone to think I’m one of you lunatics.”
Hamilton and Klane methodically searched the ship from stem to stern, or more accurately, from stern to stem. Their scanners were simple devices, heavily shielded against interference and jamming and designed to detect life and/or motion. However, apart from each other, they found no trace of life or movement. Despondently, they returned to the security room.
“Now what?” Jones demanded.
“OK. Now we search everyone’s cabin and confiscate anything that looks like a weapon.” Hamilton answered.
“They’re not going to like it.” The black man prophesied.
“As I’ve said before,” Hamilton replied. “That’s tough. You and Klane can do that. I’ll stay here and monitor things, for what it’s worth.”
The pair left and began their search. Jones took a stun pistol from the room’s weapons’ locker. “Just to be on the safe side.” He explained.
Hamilton remained in the security chamber, watching their progress on the screens and opening the crews’ doors, which were secured by personal codes. When it came time to search Carl and Vogerian’s cabins, however, the doors refused to budge, no matter what Hamilton tried.
“What do you want us to do?” Klane asked.
“Nothing for now,” Hamilton advised, after a few moments thought. “We’ll see to Smith’s body next. Klane, you return here with the stuff you found and take over from me. Jones, head up to the lab. I’ll meet you there.”
“Do you want me to use the elevator? Or the door? I’ll have to remove the barrier if I use the door.” Jones queried.
“Use the elevator. I’ll send it down to the lower lab. I’ll meet you there.”
“OK. I’ll see you.” Jones signed off.
Hamilton waited until Klane returned with the armful of weapons they had discovered in the crews’ cabins. They were mostly small pistols, stunners and lasers. One, however, was a trifle unusual. It appeared to be nothing more than a walking stick.
“Jones would have missed this,” Klane said. “But I recalled having seen one in a shop someplace. It’s known as a raywand. Basically it’s a laser mounted in a walking stick. The firing mechanism’s in the top.”
“Where did you get that?” Hamilton inquired. It sounded like the sort of thing Vogerian would own, but they hadn’t been able to get into his cabin.
“It was in Philbin’s cabin.”
Hamilton examined it with interest. Only the trigger gave it away as something other than a stick. He put it away in the arms’ locker with the rest and locked it down securely.
Klane th
en manned the cameras whilst Hamilton joined Jones and the pair rode the elevator, under Klane’s control, up to the lab where the crew were being held.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The crew were extremely angry at being penned up with little explanation. They might have forced their way into the elevator and attempted to get away had it not been for the sight of the armed duo. They fell back from the doors warily.
Hamilton spotted the frightened face of Johnson in the crowd and did his best to sound in control as he described the events that had transpired during the crews’ enforced interment. The crowd listened in shocked silence as he detailed the extent of Smith’s wound and then in outrage as he reported the search of their cabins.
“You had no right to do that!” Philbin burst out. Several others echoed him.
“Don’t worry, Philbin. You weren’t the only one with a weapon. In fact, only about four or five of you didn’t have something nasty in your rooms.”
The members of the crowd regarded each other warily.
“In any case,” Hamilton continued. “We need Doctor Dyzwiecki to help us with the body. You can come along too, Charlton.”
The doctor and the medic moved towards the elevator.
“What about the rest of us?” It was Vogerian.
“You’ll have to stay here for the time being.” Hamilton replied. A chorus of angry mutterings erupted at his announcement.
“Calm down!” Hamilton growled. “You’ll be let out soon.”
“I don’t like being penned up, Hamilton!” Lewis stared icily at him.
“Sorry about that, Lewis. At least you can’t say I’m picking on you, this time.”
She scowled at him. “One day, Hamilton. One day.”
“I look forward to it.” Hamilton smiled, backing into the elevator. Jones and the medics were already in there. Hamilton pressed the down button and the doors slid shut.
Jones and Hamilton waited whilst Dyzwiecki and Charlton performed a preliminary examination of the corpse in the corridor. It didn’t take too long. Then they manhandled the body down to the medical bay.
Humal Sequence 1: A Breath of Hope Page 18