by Jack Webber
The copter landed as gently as a leaf, and Nova cut the engine. They grabbed shades, camera, and body bag, and climbed out of the now-silent copter.
A light breeze blew from the west, then from the north, then the west again. They walked slowly towards the tattered shade. "There's no question as to the cause of death," remarked Nova, "but take pictures anyways. It's standard procedure."
Hans held a finger on the GPS/time stamp button and snapped several pictures of the shade from various angles. Then they went over to the body, prone, with arms and legs crooked.
Once again Hans took several pictures, then stooped down to get a closer look. The left humorous and radius were exposed, as skin and meat fell away from the bone like a chicken that had been boiled for too long. The same thing had happened to the face, exposing large sections of skull and teeth.
Hans had seen mutilated bodies before, but the smell, it was different. Like boiled meat - almost like the chicken stew he made last night. It almost smelled good, and the flicker of cannibalism that flashed across his mind drove him away from the scene. He leaned over a large rock and threw up.
"Take a few minutes." advised Nova. "I can just put him in the bag, if you don't need to see anything else."
Hans was silent for several minutes, trying to regain his composure. "Hold on." he called back. "Don't bag him yet - something's bothering me."
Part of the mystery was that smell, which was both appetizing and revolting at the same time. Suddenly he knew what it was. When he cooked meat at home, the blood was gone, but here, he could smell the salt and the haemoglobin. He could smell it, but he couldn't see it.
Where was the blood? There should be quarts of it.
He returned to the body on unsteady legs. Hans unbuttoned the blue shirt and pulled it open, disrupting several layers of skin, fat and muscle in the process. Hans turned away again, took a long deep breath, and turned back, resuming his work.
He pulled the shirt away and looked beneath the body. Sure enough, Allergion's back was soaked in blood, and now Hans spotted the small trail, leading downhill and into a stagnant pool of water. The rain washed all the blood away, except for the blood that was immediately beneath the body.
The pink puddle, 20 feet away, would dry in the sun and leave a red stain on the earth that would probably go unnoticed under the rutilant rays of the sun.
"Never mind." mumbled Hans. "Go ahead and bag him. I'll be in the helicopter. I mean ... I just need some cool air. Can you handle it?"
"Sure, go ahead." Nova slid the small body into the bag without much effort, while Hans went ahead into the physical and emotional sanctuary of the air-conditioned cockpit. He tossed his soiled gloves into the disposal unit and pulled the door.
Fans whined as the environmental unit compensated for the blast of hot air that followed him into the cab. Nova was not far behind, the bag slung over her shoulder. She opened the back hatch and tossed the body inside. When the hatch was closed, Hans pushed the freeze button and the back compartment began to cool down quickly.
Sometimes Hans had to laugh at this by-the-book procedure. If an undiscovered corpse bakes in the summer sun for months, does it really matter if we freeze it right away? Is there some critical piece of evidence that would be lost in the next half hour, during transport?
Hans had to chuckle, but today he was grateful for the procedure. The smell was gone, and the ice-cold body would be nearly odourless when they performed the autopsy later that afternoon.
Nova climbed in beside him and closed the door against the summer heat. She was about to start the engine when Hans looked out his window and said, "The shades." They had both been so busy with the body, they forgot about their shades, lying open on the ground. Hans jumped out and retrieved them.
"You really need a shower when we get back." declared Nova as they got back into the sky.
Hans wiped the sweat from his head, and swallowed the blunt advice from his superior as best he could. "Yeah, it's really hot and I ..."
"Not just that." interrupted Nova. "You've got blood on your arms." Hans glanced down at the red streaks above the glove line and was somewhat embarrassed.
"Don't worry," she assured him, "I'm going to get a shower too - and then maybe we can go home. The autopsy isn't going to tell us anything we don't already know; it can wait till Monday. I don't know about you, but I'd rather spend Saturday afternoon with my family."
She smiled at Hans and he nodded in agreement, feeling a little more at ease. "Just don't touch anything with those arms until we get back." she added.
"I'm sorry, I kinda lost it out there today." mumbled Hans. "I've never seen a body like that."
Nova put the copter on autopilot. "Truth is, I haven't either. It's amazing what a scalding summer rain can do." She leaned back as the copter reached its cruising altitude. "Well, try to put it out of your mind. Go home and think of fun ways to spend your overtime pay."
Hans smiled at the thought. That was the only good thing about being on weekend call.
Nova set the copter down on the helipad at police headquarters and cut the engine. The auto-roof slid across, closing the lid on a large room that protected the copters and their drivers from the elements.
"Give the room a few seconds to cool." reminded Nova, as large, noisy fans sent the ambient air back outside and replaced it with cool air. Two policemen came out to greet Nova as she opened her door and stepped down.
"The commissioner says you found him." said the first policeman, without so much as a hello.
"Yeah. He's in the back. Take him to the morgue."
"Did you confirm his identity?"
"No." replied Nova. "We didn't take a portable DNA kit. Didn't think it was necessary. I mean, it's gotta be him."
"I know," insisted the policeman, "but it's procedure. We'll do it when we get to the morgue, and the commish can notify the family. He gets that pleasant task."
The second policeman was already dragging the body bag out of the back hatch, and the first man went around to help.
"Thanks." said Nova. "Listen, we're going to call it a day. The autopsy can wait till Monday. Let the Commish know we're punching out. He can page me if he has any questions."
"You all right?" asked the lead policeman as he saw Hans climbing down from the copter. "You look a little green, and it's not just the lights."
"I'm ok." Hans assured him. "It's just that, well, the body's a real mess. Look in the bag and you'll see what I mean."
"No thanks." chuckled the policeman in response, while he and his silent partner carried the bag off.
They left the copter room through the west gate, heading towards the morgue.
Nova shut down the copter, closed the doors, and put the keys in her pocket. "Let's go." she said as they headed south towards the office complex. They walked down one deserted hallway and then another. Saturday morning, and all was quiet.
"I didn't really bring any extra clothes." remarked Hans as they entered the shower room.
"Well if you take your time about it," advised Nova, "the quick wash unit can probably get your things clean and dry by the time you're finished."
She laid her pants on the bench and slid her shoes underneath. "The jeans take too long to dry." she explained. She tossed her shirt and undergarments into the quick wash, and Hans followed her lead.
She pressed the start button, and the machine hummed to life. Hot water filled the tub from the side while a scoop of soap dropped in from behind. Wisps of steam escaped from the corners of the lid as the agitator started its rhythmic motion.
Satisfied with the progress of the quick wash, Nova and Hans went over to the showers. Six showerheads lined the walls, three on each side. Nova selected the first one on the left, and Hans took the one across from her. After checking the temperature, he jumped in right away and reached for the soap.
"Take your time." said Nova. "I know the quick wash is quick, but it still takes 25 minutes if you want to put on dry clothes. Besides
, you need to unwind a little before you head home."
Hans knew she was right. She was always right. He slowed his frantic pace, and started to feel human again.
"Did you see the dog here on Thursday?" asked Nova, trying to pretend it was just another day at the office.
"Dog?" replied Hans in surprise. "Dog? No."
"Sergeant Zimmer down the hall. You know him. Well he went to an old lady's house. She died in her sleep, but she had a dog. The house had a partially enclosed yard and a small push door, so the dog could go out, do his thing, and come back in. Well anyways, he couldn't leave the dog there, in the empty house, so the sergeant brought him back here. I'd never touched a dog before. A yellow lab I guess it was."
Hans just nodded. Nova moved away from the falling water to wash her hair. "The softest fur!" she continued. "And the happiest creature I think I've ever seen. But we really didn't have anything for him to eat, and no place for him to relieve himself, so Zimmer took him over to Animal Central right away. They'll figure out what to do with him I suppose. Darned!! If he wasn't a nice animal though! Makes me think I should get one, but it's so expensive to get a partially enclosed yard."
She continued to make small-talk, so Hans would have something pleasant to think about, and in short order they were both clean and dressed, and standing in the front vestibule. They called for two cars, since they lived in opposite directions.
"You take the first car." offered Nova, as it pulled into view.
"Thanks." said Hans as he passed through the outer door. "See you Monday."
The second car pulled up a minute later, and Nova hopped in. Back to her family and her normal Saturday afternoon routine.
THIRTEEN
"Sh*t!" mumbled Melissa as she placed her teacup back on its saucer with a loud clank. "I don't know why I gave him outside access. I thought he knew better - but it's not his fault. I should have checked the weather Friday night. I would have seen the storm coming. We could have..."
"It's not your fault." Maria interrupted. "I did check the weather on Friday, and I knew there was a storm coming, but I didn't call to let you know. I should have..."
"It's nobody's fault." declared Melissa flatly. "Nobody's fault and you know it."
"I know it, but Mrs. Harding doesn't." She took another sip of tea.
"Harding?" asked Melissa.
"Her case worker" Maria explained.
Melissa spoke in a nasal voice, parroting the words of her cold, impersonal case worker. "I'm sure you realize there will be an investigation. And pending the outcome of that investigation, we will be placing your second petition for adoption on hold. Of course the girl that we lined up for you still needs to be placed in a timely manner, so she will be adopted by another family, but rest assured, once our investigation is complete, and assuming you are cleared of any culpability in this matter, there will be plenty of other children to adopt. We'll be calling you shortly."
Melissa returned to her normal voice. "Gee wizz, thanks a lot. Thanks for nothing. They just figure I'm a murderer, and on we go. I mean I just lost my son, and nothing. Nothing but an investigation. If any other family lost a child in the storm, there would be cries of sympathy from all across Antarctica, but since I didn't give birth to him, well, I'm not really a fit parent anyways, so who cares? We're second class citizens, and treated like dirt. Honestly, you should see the crap we have to go through; all you have to do is get pregnant. It's crap!"
Melissa picked up her empty tea cup and hurled it against the wall just below the kitchen window. Broken fragments scattered across the floor and glinted in the afternoon sun. Maria jumped in surprise.
"It's just a tea cup." explained Melissa, placing her hand on Maria's arm. "I'm sure Simon will take care of it."
"Sorry about that." mumbled Melissa in a meek voice. It was so easy to forget Maria was blind.
As if on cue, Simon wheeled into the room. He recognized the sound of breaking glass and traced it to its source. His head turned from side to side as his stereo cameras recorded the locations of the fragments on the floor. They were easy to spot under the glare of the afternoon sun.
"Please, stay where you are." he urged in a quiet synthesized voice. "Pieces could be sharp." He extended his broom and dust-pan and began sweeping up the debris. Since he was barely 3 feet tall, he slid under the kitchen table with ease. "Please keep your feet still while I sweep around them."
He switched on his auxiliary light and bent down to study shoes, socks, and legs. His primary responsibility was the safety of his human hosts; cleaning was a secondary function. There were no shards on any of the six shoes or socks, so he returned to his sweeping.
Melissa continued in calmer tones. "I tried to make funeral arrangements, and you know, I can't even do that. He's not legally mine, so the state has taken care of everything."
"Not yours?" asked Maria in surprise. "You've had him for almost a year."
"Right." replied Melissa. "The placement is temporary, with monthly visits from the case worker, for a year; then the adoption is finalized. The court date was set for next month. Until that time, he's not mine. No birth certificate, no medical records, nothing. Technically I'm not suppose to take him out of the county, even to see a baseball game. Well that one isn't enforced, but you get the idea."
"At least the state pays for the funeral." offered Maria, desperately searching for a silver lining.
"Yeah, that's true, and we don't have a lot of money. So I guess that's a good thing."
"Excuse me ladies." Simon interrupted. "I need to vacuum up the smaller pieces."
A flexible tube extended from his right side and his on-board motor roared to life. Conversation came to a halt while he moved about the kitchen floor. Melissa was almost amused. Tens of thousand years of technology and we still don't know how to build a quiet vacuum cleaner.
Finally Simon turned off his motor and rolled over to Melissa. "Will there be anything else Mrs. Hanson?" he asked.
She looked down at him, and for a moment it seemed like Simon was a true companion, a friend in time of need. You could almost forget he was a robot. Their eyes met, and his cameras detected the refraction patterns of her tears. He called up his emotional support routine, a new feature in the Simon-9000 series. "I hope you feel better soon." he volunteered.
"Nothing else right now." said Melissa softly, in response to his earlier question.
As Simon left the room, she turned back towards Maria. "It's funny, the other day I was cutting onions for spaghetti, and he comes into the kitchen, sees the tears, and offers his condolences." She paused for a moment. "No matter, he's a good helper. I like the new 9000 model. More expensive than the 7300, but worth it. Sometimes, when Garit is at work, I think I'm going to need that new, emotional support routine. Conversation, games, anything to distract me; the house is so quiet."
Maria pushed her chair back from the table. "Melissa, I hate to leave you, but my kids will be home from school soon, and I'd better get home." She stood up and walked around the table to give Melissa a hug.
"Yes, yes." said Melissa. "I understand. And I'm glad you came. It means a lot."
"That's ok, you can take my arm." Maggie offered and Maria put her folded cane back in its case. "I'll call a double car, and drop you off first."
"Thanks." said Maria, as they left together.
Melissa watched them go in silence. She didn't know what to do, so she just sat. She looked out the window, then looked at the kitchen door, then looked at the two tea cups that represented her two best friends. Finally, she looked down at her empty saucer, its tea cup gone; like her beautiful boy, gone.
FOURTEEN
John gave Melissa a kiss, a long kiss, as he tried to untie the knot in the pit of his stomach. He had read all the stats. Flying was just as safe as driving, maybe a little safer, but that didn't matter.
He would soon be 60,000 feet up, travelling at Mach 7, and if anything went wrong, anything at all, he was toast. And this wasn't just a
hop to New Zealand or Australia; he was flying over the equator, where unexpected thermals can flip a passenger plane upside down in a heartbeat. An upwelling plume of steam can even snuff out a scramjet, if the conditions are just right. Yes, the plane usually got the engine started again before it crashed into the ocean, but ...
He was interrupted by Tania and Mark, calling out in unison. "Bye Daddy."
"Bye kids." He blew them each a kiss and turned towards the door.
His car was just pulling up. He sprinted to the car without a shade, his flight bag over his shoulder.
He liked to travel light. A couple of shirts, a razor, his slides and notes, and the corporate credit card. He didn't really need more than that, although he was beginning to wish he had packed some tranquilizers.
He stepped into the car and closed the door as the fans pushed the hot air back out of the cab. His menu appeared on the touchscreen, but the airport was not one of his pre-selects. In fact this was his first flight.
"Airport." he commanded. In a flash the screen was replaced with a new menu, displaying the four airports on Antarctica. He touched international airport and the car sped away.
"Bach." he thought to himself. "That will calm my nerves. It always does." He tapped the music icon, then the letter B, then the Brandenburgs. The airport was on the other side of the continent, so he settled back for a long ride.
The fifth concerto was just beginning when John felt the 2 G's of deceleration. His car was turning in, towards the airport as planes circled overhead. The cab swung around to face forward again, and the car needed some guidance.
"Please specify a terminal."
John was going to say something like, "I'm headed to Siberia.", but he didn't know what the car expected to hear, and if the words aren't just right the language recognizer can jump the tracks. So he glanced at the menu and touched the Asia icon.
"Very good." replied the car as it moved towards the far terminal.
John stepped out of the glare of the noon-day sun and into the terminal, blinking his eyes once or twice. "Where's the board?" he thought as he looked around the room. "Ok, there it is. ... Flight 329 to Siberia, departs in, wow, 15 minutes! Gate C9." He stood frozen in place as people milled about. "I don't have much time. ... Now where the skat is C9?" He read one sign, then another, until he finally located the correct concourse. "C1 through C9. That's me. Looks like I'm at the far end. That figures."