Blood Siren (Chronicles of the Orion Spur Book 1)

by Michael Formichelli

  Sable and Sophi were on their feet.

  “Father?”

  Yoji moved, heading for the window. Sable attempted to get in his way, but the larger man grabbed his son’s wrist and twisted the boy’s body off to the side.

  “Yoji? Yoji!” Aurora was frantic.

  Cylus watched the next few seconds as though viewing stars through a ship window in E-R Drive. His uncle moved towards the window, flipping the ornate brass switch on its side as he got close enough to reach it. The window slid up obediently, blasting them all with the frigid night air at a thousand meters above the fast-crete pavement. It was nearly the same smell as the Barony had that morning, wet and briny, a cruel and ironic twist to this moment where he stood powerless and watched Yoji step calmly up onto the window sill. He shook off his family’s groping hands, and placed his foot into the air.

  His eyes were vacant like an artificial’s.

  Then he was over the edge, and gone.

  Cylus’ aunts screamed. Sable dashed to the window, staring down in horror.

  Cylus looked over at Sophi. She was standing by her chair, not having moved since she got up. She seemed to feel his eyes on her, and turned her head to meet them. He could tell from her expression she was already thinking, analyzing, plotting as she always did. She was a strange point of calm in the sea of madness that followed.

  At some point he remembered suggesting they contact the Abyssian Praetor, Nero Graves.

  Chapter Six

  Ikuzlu City, Kosfanter (Matre’s Glory-V:a)

  41:0:45 CST (J2400:3052)

  Nero climbed out of his air-car and took in the damp night air. His eyes swept across the scene before him, automatically adjusting to the shadows around the plaza, and observed the crowd of people dressed in identical blue jumpers with gray jackets that marked them as Intelligent Systems employees. He let Prospero do the spectator count, thirty-two directly in front of him. Then he swept his eyes up the blue poly-glass towers to the huge egg clasped between them. The glow of the city’s filter-aegis turned its reflective surface into a ghastly, unnatural green.

  “Oh, shit.” Agent Khepria rose from the air-car on its opposite side.

  “Not used to death-watchers?” Nero asked.

  “What?”

  You see, I’m not the only one who thinks that little expression is silly.

  Ignoring Prospero, Nero turned to bring her into his visual field. “Death-watchers, it’s what I call people who gather around murder scenes to look at the body. I’ve seen it before on half a dozen planets.”

  “I haven’t been to many murder scenes,” Khepria said.

  “So this might be your first, but we haven’t determined that’s what this is yet.”

  Her ears twitched. “What do you think it is then?”

  “We have the chief political rival to the most notorious baron in the Confederation throwing himself out of a kilometer-high window after revealing a plan to foil said villain on the Barony floor. My bet is on murder scene.” Nero smiled sardonically.

  “Case rested,” Khepria said.

  Will you take this seriously, please? A Baron is dead, Nero.

  He focused his irritation at Prospero. Given the situation, and Khepria’s newness to it, a little levity was in order despite the circumstances. There was enough grimness ahead of them.

  His expression grew long. “Let’s get this over with. Come on.”

  They had to push their way into the crowd before the Eye of Daedalus on Nero’s chest got noticed. When it did the mob parted for them like curtains for a play. Glowing yellow holographic lines stretched between posts placed to keep the crowd from entering the scene. Several uniformed Ikuzlu police officers, all with the triple-jointed legs and quartz-like horns that marked them as Volgoth, stood sentry in case any of the crowd grew tempted to approach the scene. The officers gave Nero and his companion a respectful nod with dark, oily looking eyes in sharply angular faces. Nero returned the gesture as he and Khepria crossed the line.

  Directly beneath the egg section of the tower was a landscaped garden with waist-high hedges in sets of concentric arcs. They were spaced wide enough to accommodate a walking path and benches comfortably. The centerpiece of the tableau was a wide, three-tiered fountain with some old Earth half-fish god seated at its apex holding a trident. On each level below the marble deity stood four stone sea-nymphs with their arms spread wide. Hidden holographic projectors provided each with a gossamer robe of light cascading off of their shoulders into the crystalline waters behind them. The ghostly light from those ethereal cloaks cast a pall over the faces of those present, as though a gathering of the dead had come to claim their newest member.

  Baron Mitsugawa Yoji had landed between two of the nymphs and shattered his bones on the wide expanse of the fountain’s lip. His blood looked black in the odd light. It dripped from the nymphs’ outstretched stone fingers, and spread out from the point of impact in thin spines.

  “Oh gods,” Khepria said when her eyes took it in.

  Baroness Cronus and her sister were at the edge of the crowd on Nero’s right. Heir Representative Cronus had her hand on a bench. Her face was a stoic mask, but her arm trembled. She looked as though the slightest breeze would blow her into a million pieces. Though Baroness Cronus stood unsupported beside her, her countenance was not much better.

  The representative’s children and Baron Keltan were between the sisters and the body. Baron Keltan had his head down. His hands were clenched into fists at his side. Heir Mitsugawa’s expression was as stony as that of the fountain’s deity. A single hand placed on his stomach, just above the hilt of his two swords, was the only sign that he was affected at all at the sight of his father’s grisly remains.

  More startling, however, was the expression upon Heir Sophiathena Cronus’ face. The hood of her robe was thrust back and framed by her ivory braids. Her pointed chin thrust out into the night air over her chest, and her ice blue eyes shone in the spectral light with what Nero could only find one word for—pride.

  He heard Khepria’s sharp intake of breath behind him, and knew she’d seen it too. The noise, as slight as it was in the hum of the night air, was enough to draw Heir Sophiathena’s gaze. The ecstatic expression vanished.

  “Praetor Graves, good of you to come,” she said. Her words drew the attention of the others.

  “As per your request, I’ve obtained custody of this case on my way over.” Nero walked forward, placing himself among them. Khepria followed quietly behind. He had Prospero message her to begin the digital autopsy.

  “There aren’t many beings we can trust right now. The regular CSA, and even the local authorities, are too beholden to the Barony to conduct a fair investigation,” Heir Sophiathena said.

  “I will ensure the evidence is not tampered with, Heiress Cronus.” A window opened in the corner of Nero’s vision showing the feed from Agent Khepria’s scan. She accessed the nodes in Baron Mitsugawa’s cybernetic implants and started downloading as much data as she could.

  Standard implants were partially organic in nature and derived their energy by converting body-heat into electrical power for their microcircuits and nanomachines. Although it would take hours for the baron’s body to reach ambient temperature, the more Khepria demanded of his cyberware, the more power was required and the faster his body would cool. The cold of the marble fountain and the blood loss wasn’t helping the issue either. She needed to get as much information out of the corpse as she could before the nodes became inoperative.

  “Praetor Graves,” Heir Mitsugawa said. His voice was hoarse, but steady.

  “Heir Mitsugawa?” Nero met the young heir’s eyes. This man would be the new baron once the death was officially entered into the record.

  “I don’t know how, but the man who did this is named Zalor Revenant. There is no doubt in my mind that he is responsible.”

  “I understand, Baron. I will follow the evidence, no matter where it leads. My order is uniquely suited to crime
s of this type,” Nero said.

  The window containing the feed from Khepria’s scan flashed. He watched as it displayed records of wild electromagnetic variations just before the implants recorded cessation of life-sustaining activity in the body. His automated nano-immune system, nanomachines designed to boost the body’s natural defenses, recorded detecting a surge in an unknown molecule in his system just before the E-M flux.

  Nero had no idea what that meant.

  Fortunately, I’m here. It implies that the alien molecule, whatever it was, may have been the cause of the electromagnetic flux in his body shortly before the incident. The initial report provided by Baroness Cronus stated that Baron Mitsugawa threw himself out of their dining room window at dinner. I do not have any data on any molecule that could cause a self-destructive urge of that magnitude in such a short period of time. With your permission, I shall start scanning the wider Kosfanter Cyberweb for such references.

  “Permission given,” Nero muttered.

  “What was that, Praetor Graves?” Heir Mitsugawa said.

  “Apologies, it wasn’t directed at you. Did your father ingest or touch anything unusual recently?” he asked.

  Heir Mitsugawa threw a glance back towards the Cronus sisters. “Not that I can say, no.”

  Nero frowned. “Alright, thank you. My partner and I need a few minutes.”

  The heir inclined his head. “The swords my father wears are important cultural artifacts to our people.”

  “Agent Khepria, did you scan the swords?” Nero asked.

  “They are masterpieces of technology, but there’s nothing on or in them that might pertain to the baron’s death,” she said.

  Nero moved over to the body, careful not to tread in the expanding pool of blood, and pulled the two curving white swords from the Baron’s sash.

  Bow when you hand them over, Prospero said.

  He did.

  “Thank you, Praetor Graves.” Heir Mitsugawa accepted the blades. He held them in his hands, both short and long blades balanced on his palms, and bowed deeply. When he rose his eyes were welling up with tears.

  Nero turned away.

  “Nero, I’m going to need the lab to analyze this mystery molecule. It is thick in his bloodstream and now the fountain as well,” Agent Khepria said.

  “Quarantine the fountain, and have law enforcement keep people away from here. Any evidence it can go airborne?”

  “Not yet,” she responded.

  “Two block radius should do.”

  Transmitting the quarantine order to city central computer system for implementation.

  Moments later the Volgoth officers started commanding the crowd of spectators away. The holographic police line turned red and expanded behind them.

  “Have you got things under control here?” Nero asked.

  “I believe so,” Khepria responded. She was kneeling at the edge of the blood pool with her palm hovering centimeters away from its sticky surface. Nero’s enhanced vision could see the electromagnetic waves coming out of the sensor implants in her long-fingered hand.

  “I’m heading over to see Baron Revenant while things are still fresh enough that I might catch him off guard.”

  I doubt you will. If he’s the guilty party, he has probably been planning this for years.

  “I still have to try,” Nero said.

  “Praetor Graves.”

  He looked towards the source of the voice. Baron Keltan met his gaze.

  “I’m coming with you.” The baron set his jaw, as though waiting for a blow.

  It’s against regulations to take civilians on official—

  “You sure you want to?” Nero asked.

  “I believe this isn’t the first person close to me Revenant has killed.” Baron Keltan’s voice was thick. He swallowed several times around a clenched jaw after speaking.

  Nero started walking towards his air-car. “Let’s go.”

  “How are you feeling back there? Comfortable?” he asked.

  “Just fine, Praetor Graves, thank you. I have absolute faith in your piloting skills. Didn’t we agree to call each other by our given names in private?”

  He frowned. “I guess we did. Ah, sorry, but it is a bit odd to be calling a baron by his given name.”

  “Why’s that? Because we aren’t really people?” Baron Keltan placed one hand over the other in his lap.

  “No, it’s just that we’re not actually friends.”

  Baron Keltan nodded. “Not yet, Praetor Graves. How far away are we?”

  Nero glanced at the auto-nav built into the instrumentation panel. The Revenant compound was halfway across the atoll from the Intelligent Systems tower. “About another five clicks sir.”

  “Clicks?”

  “Jargon for kilometers.”

  “How long?”

  “About five minutes.” Nero banked around a set of office towers.

  “Go ahead and transmit our intentions then. I suppose five minutes is surprise enough.” Baron Keltan crossed his arms and sighed heavily.

  “I know my job, Baron. Leave this to me. You’re just along to observe, that was the deal.” He was afraid of this. Barons weren’t used to taking a back seat but he had to be absolutely firm on this.

  I told you not to take him, Prospero said.

  “Shush,” Nero whispered. He hated to admit it but Prospero was right. It was a stupid move to act out of sympathy. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have allowed himself the feeling.

  He felt Baron Keltan’s gaze on the back of his head. “That was part of the deal. I’m here as representative of the Houses Cronus, Mitsugawa, and my own as well. Zalor should know that your mission here is not just some casual bureaucratic procedure.”

  “I’d think the sight of the eye on my lapel should do that just fine. Abyssians don’t just show up for social calls,” Nero said.

  “Zalor’s not going to care that you’re an Abyssian, and he’s not going to care what you say unless you can show you have some backing,” Baron Keltan said.

  Normally, I’d object to his line of reasoning, but in this case, given Baron Revenant’s reputation, he may be right, Nero. You’re stuck with him.

  He snorted. One minute Prospero is saying it was a mistake to take the baron, and the next he’s defending the decision.

  Maddening, isn’t it?

  He growled. “Alright, I see your point. Just don’t interfere any more than you have to, please.”

  Baron Keltan nodded; his tone took on a haunted quality. “Honestly I’m sorry I have to be there at all.”

  Nero peeled the craft around another office tower, which brought the Revenant compound into view. Seven sharp towers rose from its bloated, spiny base. They writhed in the air like clawed tentacles, clutching at the pulsing distortion of space-time between them.

  “What the hell?” he exclaimed.

  Baron Keltan leaned forward from the seat behind him. “Oh, that. Baron Revenant loves flaunting his power in public. He had a small amount of neutronium placed in the tip of each of the tower-claws, or whatever you want to call them. They distort space-time enough to create violent turbulence around the compound.”

  “What do his neighbors think about the winds? I can’t imagine this is very welcome in a city.”

  “They don’t say. Zalor has them all terrified,” Baron Keltan responded.

  “How the hell does he turn the thing off?”

  “The towers can project an aegis around the distortion, cutting the air off from the vortex if Zalor wants you to be able to land safely. I doubt he’ll extend us that courtesy. No air-car lands without Zalor’s say-so. You better let me ask for permission to land.”

  Nero scowled. “Who said I’m going to ask for permission?”

  “Oh shit!” Baron Keltan and Prospero said together.

  Nero gunned the engine.

  The compound loomed like a giant creature through the canopy. He throttled back, fighting the sticks for control against the winds. A gust threw th
em violently to the side and nearly flipped the car over. He rolled the car with it, leveling out and aiming the blade of the vehicle’s nose between two of the towers. The space was wide enough to fit four air-cars, but with the wind behaving as it was, passing between them could still be the death of both he and the baron.

  Oh no, what are you thinking, Nero? You really shouldn’t be taking chances, if you kill a baron so help me—

  “Shut up,” Nero shouted.

  Another wind gust caught them up right as they were passing between the black towers, screaming painfully in his ears. The car lurched and tipped, setting them on their side so when he looked up he could see individual lights gleaming like tiny candles in the black plates of the tower’s skin.

  “Screw it.” He gunned the throttle.

  The vehicle shot forward, pressing him back into his seat and clearing the tower barely meters before impact. He rolled the air-car over so that its belly was once again facing the ground. They were between the towers now, and the air was calm. Below them five diamond shaped landing platforms waited. One flashed its lights up invitingly.

  “Guess he figured out we’re coming.” Nero angled the craft towards it.

  Lunatic!

  The air-car settled onto the pad with a sigh. Around them the black walls of the compound rose up five-meters high between the seven towers. They looked like they were made of giant thorns big enough to impale a tank or small aerospace plane. The look gave Nero a feeling like he’d just put the air-car down in the middle of an oversized, dead garden.

  He glanced over his shoulder. The Baron gripped the back of the co-pilot’s seat with white knuckles.

  “You can relax now, Baron.” He smiled.

  Baron Keltan was wide-eyed. “Can I?”

  Nero grinned, opened the canopy, and hopped out. His companion joined him and led the way across the oddly spongy surface of the pad towards a recessed door on one of the towers. The door slid open when they were a few meters from it revealing the famous striped pigmy Baron Revenant used as a bodyguard.

  Baron Keltan stopped short, forcing Nero to sidestep around him. He turned to complain, but stopped. Baron Keltan’s face was awash in shameless hatred.