I used to carry Taena Richard's purse for her like a servant until someone taught her what a dwarf was, and suddenly I wasn't fit for the job anymore.
I cried for weeks over that purse.
As an adult, there was Holly Balastair, the only person I would ever say the word to. Two months we were together, but she was my first relationship and that was all it took. I spent everything I had on her, on us, and when I said the word she smiled. Her eyes burned green, her thin lips mischievous in a way I'd never noticed before. Not that emotionally involved was how she put it. She was seeing another guy and saw no reason to stop doing so.
Even Sariah, the woman who I wound up in the basement for had used me. She feigned interest in my life, smiled and flirted with me so I would do her bidding. I stole for her because my parents' philosophy demanded it, but I would not claim that was the full extent. I was entranced by her short blond hair and stiff beauty, and perhaps that influenced my decision more than I realized.
I was not so young now. Pyke couldn't own me as the others had, but I knew as I timed her running to the door that I wasn't safe. The loneliness that drove my desperation had not gone.
Pyke took about five clicks to act out killing Lemus, who played the guard. Assuming the quilla managed to kill Kenrey almost immediately after blowing the hole in the wall, I calculated he had about 30 clicks to do everything else and escape. It took her another three clicks to grab the chair, which was probably not in the middle of the room like some weird center piece, then she had to pick up the body and get it seated. We had nothing of Kenrey's weight to use, and I wasn't sure Pyke could have lifted it if we did, but hoisting Lemus onto the chair took her another ten clicks.
Peti's profile made it difficult to imagine how he might get Kenrey onto a chair at all. Not through weakness; the quilla evolved in the limitless savanna of Vas Bes, a land of giants. They herded donphan – wheat colored mountains with tusks the size of buildings and a temper that made an earthquake feel like puff of wind. I did not doubt he had the strength to put Kenrey on the chair, but the fronds in front of his mouth, which his species used as hands, did not appear to possess any of the requisite traits to shift something heavy with finesse.
I knew this was incorrect. Quillan fronds could extend almost a met, like the tentacles of an octopus. They were boneless fingers with the tensile strength of bungee cord. Whatever Pyke might have managed, Peti could do it in half the time.
Lastly, Peti had to pin the note to him, which was the only part where he would be slower than a human. The fronds above his mouth were not as dexterous as human fingers. Lemus sat on the chair and had Pyke pin a note to him. She took four clicks. Given practice, Peti could probably do it in about the same. Then that left about another ten clicks for the quilla to get out of sight of the first guard to arrive on the scene. Of course, the guards would probably be able to see the huge snake long before they reached the hole in the wall, but it still remained technically possible for it to be done. I was wrong.
It still didn't make any sense why the killer would take the time to put Kenrey on a chair and pin a note to him, or use a knife when that was actually harder for a quilla, but it was at least technically possible. Seeing as there didn't seem to be any other possibilities, I didn't see the harm in just letting the case go and charging Peti. I could have my life back, solve some other cases where the victim was less high profile, and maybe even do some good. The thought made me sufficiently optimistic to consider asking Pyke to go for dinner, but I quickly dismissed the idea. I would only make a fool out of myself. My brain would turn to jelly and I'd ask her if she wanted to marry me, or what her favorite color was. Better to save myself the embarrassment.
"You can go, Lemus," I said. Crawl back to the fence hole that you came from.
I turned to dismiss Pyke as well but she was right behind me, and I swallowed the words in my throat.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" she asked.
My mind went blank, as if someone had struck me. "Yes."
When she realized I wasn't going to elaborate any further she nodded. "I'll be off as well then, shall I?"
I nodded when the words wouldn't come.
As she started to walk away, I was already kicking myself, but at the same time the paralysis was wearing off. The pressure to act dissipated, and I managed to call after her, "Unless you want to go for dinner tonight?"
Pyke turned, smiled, and let it fall. "I can't, not tonight."
I nodded, doing my best to look her in the eyes. "Tomorrow?" I suggested, with more hope than I had reason to acknowledge.
She shook her head. "I'm sorry."
I nodded as she walked away without further word. She was well above my station, but still the rejection stung like a trapped nerve. It was a low feeling that someone thought themselves so entirely above me they could dismiss further interaction simply based on my appearance. I knew that wasn't the whole story. She had every right to reject me, and no doubt she felt badly about the situation, but neither fact could quell the flare of hate. In that moment, I would have watched her burn without raising a hand.
The bitterness drained, and I was myself again. In truth, she had done me a favor. I was a fool for women, and I didn't have time to be a fool at the moment. But that was just a fact, and it did nothing to dull the feeling that I was fundamentally unlovable. I felt nothing but apathy towards Peti, Kenrey, and even Vins. The Kaerosh was always gray, but rejection washed away the color until even the leaves looked metallic.
None of the sweeps had found any evidence of holes, weapons, or blood when I left, which only made me more certain that a three met long bleeding quilla had not fled through the gardens unobserved.
As I walked up the white steps to the station, I got a call from Dollews. "Is that Mr. Nidess?"
"Yes."
"We've done your test for you, looking for quilla tissue in the blood. Unfortunately, it came back inconclusive. These things often do, I'm afraid. Either there wasn't enough material left after all the genetic tests, or perhaps Dr. Fache made a mistake. It happens, but there really is very little we can do about it."
"Ok, thank you, Dr. Dollews."
"If it's any consolation, I'm sure if the tests had worked they would have been consistent with what we already know."
I hung up on him without further word. I wasn't going to dignify that last comment with a response. The police didn't pay an entire science division to be sure about tests they hadn't done – scientists were supposed to be unsure about things and then test them with science.
It was exactly the same sort of dis that got Sariah put away, and stuck me in the basement. I wanted to see this Dr. Fache.
In the elevator, my finger hovered over the button for the basement before it shot up and hit the third floor button. Dollews assurances ran through my head; a herd of donphan chased by saber toothed lichneids, but Pyke's rejection ate at me every bit as much as Dollews' corruption.
"I want to see Dr. Fache," I said to the secretary. It was a different lady, but she stared at her network screen with equal enthusiasm.
She tapped the keyboard enough times that I was pretty sure she managed to finish her shopping before she messaged Fache. "He'll be right out," she said finally, sparing me a glance before returning to her screen.
"I'll take a seat." Again, I didn't say thank you. Perhaps it only perpetuated the cycle of rudeness, but I felt she had done nothing worth saying thank you for. Anything less, and she wouldn't merit the salary she was there for.
Fache came through the barriers with his lab coat on. It was not the same short bearded man I met in the morning, but a tall handsome blond man with the arms of a weight lifter, the legs of a track runner, and a muscular abdomen that sunk inward beneath his pecks. Still in a sterile lab suit, he pressed the red button in the center, and the white plates began to separate, slotting on top of each other until the whole thing was just a box. He caught it as it dropped from his shoulder, and threw it to one of t
he ladies walking in. She accepted the duty with a smile that made me instantly jealous.
We shook. "Shall we go for a jaffee?" he said.
"Sounds good."
It didn't. If Fache wanted to leave, it was because whatever he wanted to tell me was something Dollews wasn't supposed to hear.
"You worked with Dollews before?" he asked.
"This is my first time out of the basement for five cycles."
Fache's well angled face donned a mask of sympathy. "Sorry to hear that."
The queue for the jaffees was awkward. The caff was so rammed with people we had to bunch up together. Fache was tall enough that my chin was barely above his ass or crotch, depending on which way he stood. By the time we reached the counter we had exhausted several orientations, none of which solved the problem.
There were no seats, so we went outside again. I turned the heating elements on in my coat and trousers, and we started walking. "Tell me about the tests," I said, sipping burning liquid through the plastic mouthpiece.
"What has Dollews told you?"
"That the tests were inconclusive."
"I ran the test five times. Each time there wasn't a trace of quilla tissue. Given the amount of FSA – their equivalent of DNA – we found at the scene, it doesn't make any sense. It's like finding pure calamite in a rock with no stathagnathus."
"You mean it's faked?" I said.
"That's not impossible. There are ways to build entire fenomes from scratch, but that would require enormous resources, plus artificially synthesized FSA has markers which can be identified. The body modifies their macromolecular structures in ways that these machines can't replicate. Peti's FSA is real, but I am certain it was frozen."
"To clarify," I said, feeling the need to clarify that I was just clarifying, "Frozen FSA means that Peti wasn't at the scene."
Fache nodded. "Someone took some of Peti's blood, removed all the tissue to isolate his FSA, froze it, and added it to the scene. He's being framed."
"And you told Dollews this?"
Fache snorted. "He doesn't want to know. He's had everyone up to the Commissioner and beyond congratulating him on finding Peti, and he can't backtrack. I told him I was one hundred percent certain that Peti was being framed, and he told me that I'd made a mistake by adding too much ethanol to the reaction. He said if I told you he would make sure I never got a job in a lab again."
I was slightly alarmed by this. "So why are you telling me?"
He stopped walking, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. "So you can put my findings in your report."
I was regaining my composure as Pyke's rejection and Dollews statements faded into history and quickly regretting the decision to see Fache. "I just wanted to know for myself," I said. "I don't care about Peti or Kenrey or even whoever killed him." Things were finally starting to turn around.
"You can't let this go!" Fache said.
Letting this go was precisely what I meant to do. "Don't be so naïve!" I said, my pulse quickening. "My report is a formality. The Commissioner has probably already told Clazran we've found Kenrey's killer, and there is nothing you, me, or a fracking eclipse of dragons can do to save Peti now. The only sensible thing to do is let it go."
"By the time I get back, Dollews will already know I took this meeting with you. If you don't back me then I'm done."
I stared at the man for a minute wondering why he would do something so stupid. "If it's yourself you're worried about, your best chance is that he doesn't notice the meeting."
Jaffee spilled over onto Fache's hand, but he barely seemed to notice. "You spineless pile of dis! I came here because you asked me to. I thought you were interested in the truth. What the frak are you doing here otherwise?"
Guilt pressed against my chest as if I were wearing heavy armor that was too small for me. Confrontation made me sweat, and the knowledge that I was in the wrong made me sick. "If I do anything, they'll just bury me again."
I wasn't going back to the basement.
Fache stood over me as a parent chastening a naughty child. "Where is your honor? If Peti isn't the murderer then someone else is."
The truth stung me like a chorionix electrocuting its prey. "Murderer of a fracking pedophile rapist!"
I shouldn't have said that.
The smile that appeared on Fache's face spoke more unequivocally of his intent than words ever could. "I don't think I'm supposed to know that."
I shrugged, not letting the panic surface. "If you tell anyone about that, you won't just be unemployed, they'll kill you Fache."
"They'll kill both of us," he corrected.
"That isn't something to be striven for!"
I tried to walk away, but Fache grabbed my shoulder. "I don't think you understand me, dwarf." His grip tightened. "It's too late for me to back down now even if I wanted to. Either you help me and we fight this together, or I pull you in kicking and screaming, and they'll sink us to the bottom of the River Lanne."
I tried to pull free, but he was too strong. His face held the determination of a man escaping his shackles by sawing off his own leg. There was no compromise in those wild eyes, green rings flecked with fire.
"This will be the end of both of us," I said.
Fache nodded, straightening in the dim light of the gray Kaeroshi sky. "If it must."
I knew I could beat Fache if I wanted. It would not be difficult to go to Vins and report Fache's intentions, state that he had found out about Kenrey's girls through some other means, and say he was trying to use it to blackmail me. I was no longer the school boy accustomed to being pushed around. Part of me wanted to fight, but if I did that I was lost to myself. Fache wouldn't survive the week, and his death would be my responsibility, my fault. True, his threats induced my actions, but I could not ignore that Fache had done nothing wrong. His motives were for justice and honesty, and I wasn't ready to kill a man for such reasons. I had not strayed so far from my parents.
My other option was to get Rake to concur with us in his report. If both lead investigators claimed it could not be Peti, then the bosses would have a much harder time dismissing it. I might be able to convince him to see its importance if I tried, but Rake did not want to catch the killer. To him Peti was the perfect outcome.
Defeated, I headed back to Elvedeer in my slider. The buildings went from the artistic modern looking structures with clean windows and white exteriors to the gray concrete blocks of the estates rising high into the sky like digits of a subterranean demon, each one dirtier than the last until they were replaced by mud and trees, and then the swamps of Cosaw and Lisaw that swallowed the outskirts of Las Hek.
I patted Lola on the head, feeling guilty that I didn't have the energy to walk her. Collapsing onto my sofa, I didn't even bother to turn on the network screen.
I woke up several hours later in darkness to the sound of Lola's bark. Unable to see my way to the light switch, I felt her paw under my right foot as she scampered away.
The table was still littered with the various plates and microwavable packets of the last fortnight, possibly longer. In a character transformation greater than the Mad King's clemency to his sister's spies, I began to remove the plastic containers with congealed food stuck to the edges, and the plates of spicy chips where only the most charcoaled bits remained. I made a new pile in the kitchen as the food bag was full and smelt too bad to remove, but it made the living area more bearable.
The only item left on the table was a replica of the Hiltron Sada Astra from my currently favorite series The Yugon Wars, which I had partially constructed three weeks ago and then left to set. It was only the day after that I realized it had been glued to the table. I thought about getting a knife and prying it off, but the hours I'd spent sleeping had eaten into my procrastination time. I sat down at the table, commanded the screen to turn on, and began to write.
It was far from my greatest piece of work, but I was done with an hour left before work started. I messaged Rake. We needed to talk befor
e I handed my report to Vins, though I did not want him to back me up. Once Clazran was told we had a suspect, the case was shut. Every person fighting against that outcome was just discarding their careers.
By the time I got to my slider round the corner from Elvedeer, Rake had not replied. I called him, but there was no answer. I tried twice again, and still nothing. My thoughts returning to the possibility of him doing something to Welker, I left him a message to contact me ASAP.
My arm seemed heavy as I pressed the button for the basement. I wasn't coming back here. When Vins told me I was off the case, I would quit.
The dark, squalid room was quieter than the Bronn Wastes as Vins stood up from my chair. For a pendulum swing, I considered retreating back into the elevator, but my legs wouldn't turn that way. They just kept walking until I could see the specks of gray amid his black hair.
"You have the report?" he said.
I nodded.
"Make it."
I wasn't going to go out sniveling. "Peti didn't commit the crime."
"Pity." The word vibrated with threat, as if he were about to bite through his own teeth. "And you are basing this on the evidence provided by Dr. Fache?" He was already ahead of me. It happened just as Fache predicted. Dollews had found out about our meeting and told Vins.
I nodded.
"And would it change your mind to learn that the hack scientist has since been fired for incompetence?"
"What do you think?"
Vins' eyes narrowed to the point of closure. "You're fired." He paused, tapping his tablet, as if he had been waiting to do this since the first time we talked. "I trust you are not stupid enough to make trouble over this?"
I nodded. "And Rake?"
Vins smiled. "He handed in his report just before you did. It says Peti is the chief suspect. We've decided to base all further inquiries on his report."
So Rake was ignoring me. His father must have told him what was happening, and he was dissociating himself. It hurt more than it should have. I did not delude myself that we were friends, but still it felt like betrayal.
The Iron Swamp Page 7