by Dan Knight
~~~~~~
They stepped off the lift into a scene of controlled chaos. Two of Moab’s crime scene technicians scanned the hall. Another disappeared into the boys’ locker room.
They walked into the open gymnasium. Medics hovered over little green girls and boys. Emergency responders carried off stretchers bearing the victims. The children stared into space as if dead. Only the rise and fall of their chests told him they were not dead. Jack’s stomach turned. I’ve got to stop this!
A technician scanned the bleachers, and another scanned the floor. Gumshoe watched over the scene from the volleyball court.
“Jack, Shotgun, good to see you.” Gumshoe waved them over. “Welcome to the party.” The Inspector was unshaven and his eyes were bloodshot. If anything, he appeared worse in person than he had on Jack’s caster.
“We heard the news.” Jack surveyed the scene and frowned. “No one was killed, and the Surete sent the survivors to Moab Charity.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” said Gumshoe. “We’re still piecing it together. Moab got an automated emergency call from the security guard’s caster. The uniforms found the teachers and the children here in the gymnasium. They were comatose, so the officers called for backup. Wiggles called me after he got the report. Now, look behind you.”
Jack and Shotgun followed the Inspector’s gaze. Scorch marks covered the wall.
“Capricorn,” Jack swallowed. “That’s not good. It’s burnt into the wall, isn’t it?”
“Yes, the heat was intense.”
“Thank our lucky stars,” sighed Jack. “It’s not the children’s blood.”
Constable Wiggles broke free of the knot of technicians.
“Unfortunately,” said Gumshoe, “that’s not the whole story. Here comes Wiggles.”
The portly policeman waddled over. “Good to see you, gentlemen,” said Wiggles. “My uniforms found the security guard next to the swimming pool. A little girl had the security guard’s mobile. She must have sent the emergency call. The officers who found the girl and the guard began feeling sick, and we sent them to Moab Charity. I’m not taking any chances.”
“What happened to them?” asked Jack.
“Poison,” said Wiggles. “Gas, we think. We’re still working it out, but we found canisters in the pool. We’ve got a hazmat unit in there now fishing out the canisters.”
“Can it get any worse?” asked Jack.
“We’re all frustrated,” Gumshoe thumbed his holster straps. “The best men in Moab are working on it. I called you boys out here in case we can use your talents.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” said Jack, “but I’m not sure what we can do.”
Medics took vital signs, recorded observations, and cared for the comatose. Other officers struggled to move the victims on stretchers.
“Excuse me,” said Wiggles, “back to work.”
“We’ll be in the physical education office,” said Gumshoe.
The Inspector squeezed Jack’s elbow. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute? Shotgun, come along.” Letting go of his elbow, the Inspector headed out of the gymnasium.
“Wiggles has other business,” said Gumshoe. “He doesn’t need to hear this again.”
“You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
“Let’s say Barfly and I had a meeting of the mind’s last night. We sailed to Tahiti seeing things differently and we sailed back seeing eye to eye.”
“Remember that Octagon paper pusher?” Gumshoe took off his fedora, and combed his thin hair.
“Ferrell,” said Jack. “I remember. He’s the one who thinks the Black Dwarf committed the Zodiac murders to destabilize Nodlon, right?”
“Yeah, and he thinks the Black Dwarf ambushed us twice,” sighed Gumshoe. “And he thinks the dwarf works for Mars. I’m inclined to agree. Barfly thinks so too. Wiggles’ men found Martian War Maker marks on the canisters.”
“Is he sure? Why would the Martian’s want to murder children? I can’t imagine President Nogora stooping so low.”
“Not our problem. Not mine anyway. Officially, I’m off the Zodiac case. The higher-ups ordered Barfly to take me off it. The Black Dwarf belongs to Ferrell now. Barfly’s afraid of losing his retirement and, frankly, so am I.”
“If you’re off the case, what are we doing here?”
“Unofficially, I’m a liaison for Nodlon Yard. Barfly knows this is too important to leave to the military. We have every confidence in the military’s ability to destroy things, but they’re not policemen. We’re going to keep looking for the Black Dwarf until someone catches him.”
“What does that make us, gate crashers?”
“Technically, we’re all here as civilian consultants with the Surete. Don’t let it bother you two. Wiggles is a good moleman and the best detective in Nodlon. Present company excluded of course. He insisted we stay on the case and continue chasing any leads. If I am pulled off, I hope you will both keep working with him.”
“We’ll see this case through to the end,” said Jack. “I think we’ve seen enough dwarf girls murdered, and now mole children! What do you say, Shotgun? Are you in?”
“You can count on me too, boss,” said Shotgun, “I’ll help any way I can.”
“Thanks, you’re good men, both of you.”
“Changing the subject, old man,” said Jack, “what about warning Nodlon’s biots? The Black Dwarf and New Gem targeted dwarves. We need to shut down New Gem and warn the dwarves.”
“No warning,” Gumshoe grimaced. “They won’t warn the biots. They nixed it at the top. Warning the biots now will create panic. That’s what they say anyway.”
“That’s a lie,” Jack spat. “The city’s already in a panic. How can a warning make it worse?”
“You’re right, but it’s probably Warlord Arnold’s doing. He doesn’t rub shoulders with many biots if you get my drift. And if anyone goes after New Gem, it has to be Ferrell. Besides, everyone’s already been ordered to leave the city. That should disrupt their plans for now.”
“What happens when they set up shop in Iron Mountain, and the murders continue there?”
“That’s why we need to stop them now, before they can move,” said Gumshoe. “Why do you think I’m here? Barfly figured it out for himself. We can’t trust the military to stop New Gem especially on the evidence we have. What else can a policeman do?”
“What can a magician do that the police cannot do?” asked Jack. “How can Barfly do that? The police are here to protect us. My fiancée is synthetic. My mother was synthetic. I’m half synthetic. Biots laugh just as loud at my shows as any human, why should their lives and dreams count any less?”
“Faith and Hope are my children,” spat Shotgun. “They look like children, sound like children, and play like children. Even a regressive can see they’re children. Why should it matter their parents are synthetic? If the Black Dwarf was after human girls, they’d issue a warning!”
“Now boys, I wouldn’t be so sure,” Gumshoe consoled the mage and his dogsbody. “Jack! Shotgun! Charity, please friends! Why should high and mighty pinheads care anymore for common humans than for biots? Whatever the motive, right or wrong, it’s not about biots. They don’t give a penny about the world inside. They’re sociopaths. It’s got nothing to do with the victim’s DNA!”
“No dignity in life,” muttered Shotgun bitterly, “None in death!” A scowl fell over the typically optimistic dwarf, and worry lines bundled the skin around his chip.
Not for the first time, a pang of remorse struck Jack.
“Biots are people too,” said Gumshoe. “If I didn’t believe it I wouldn’t spend my time looking for their killers. What can I do? I’m only a glorified police officer. I’m not an aristocrat and no one gave me a silver spoon.” Gumshoe slowly wagged his head.
“I’m sorry old man,” said Jack. “I didn’t mean it that way. I don’t even know a human who thinks less of a biot. Even Princess Virgin
ia thinks biots are people. It’s just outrageous. Who would gag the truth? Who would lie to kids? Lying to children, it’s sick.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” said Gumshoe. “Look this isn’t about people’s prejudices. If they put it to a vote, everyone in the city would vote for equality. It’s about Baron Voltaire, the Nodlon Banking Cartel, and the mob families running Deep Nodlon. If Parliament had any chutzpah, the Yard would arrest them in twenty-four hours and we’d put an end to the curse. No one has done it because no one has tried. If you talk about it, you disappear. Remember the Right Honorable Hoffa? He was up to his eyeballs in a trafficking ring. When he came clean, he disappeared. He’s probably orbiting Pluto now.”
“We have to stop this before more people die,” Jack reddened. “We were lucky no one died here today.”
“We don’t know that, Jack,” Gumshoe shook his head, and looked Jack in the eye. “Some of the children may be missing. The technicians are double-checking the records.” The detective worked his jowls.
Jack’s shoulders drooped, and he squeezed his temples. He gulped, and tried not to be angry. More dwarves were dead, and now mole children were missing. Gumshoe’s doing his best! If the old man worries any harder, he’ll blow a gasket! For as long as Jack had known him, Gumshoe always presented himself as a curmudgeon. The gruff exterior protected an old softie.
Wiggles tapped on the window. “They’re through cross checking downstairs,” he said. “We’ve got a problem.” The constable waddled off. “A baker’s dozen are missing.”
Forgetting their conversation, they chased the constable to the lift.
“Bad business,” said Wiggles, “bad business.”
“Maybe they were replacing the dwarves they lost in the ambush?” Jack suggested.
“Maybe Jack,” said Wiggles. “Back at the farm, my techs are almost through with their reports. The hazmat team is finished on the top floor. They think the area is clear, but they’ve got it sealed off as a precaution. Our chemical boys have taken the canisters to the crime lab.”
The lift opened. Wiggles waddled towards a policewoman. The knot had moved on. Two other technicians worked on their laptops.
“Maureen,” Wiggles asked, “what have you found?”
“We’ve got thirteen missing children – all boys.”
“Are you sure?”
“We had trouble figuring out who was supposed to be here today. The children and staff were given leave due to the evacuation. Only a skeleton crew was here today to stay with the orphans. We had to locate the student’s attendance records and the time clock record for the staff. We compared the security records to the chips on the victims. All of the staff are accounted for, but thirteen of the students are missing.”
“So we’ve got a baker’s dozen missing - all young men?”
“All boys,” she said, “just boys.” She dropped just a hint of bitterness.
“Can you get me a list?”
“I’m printing one out now.”
“I’d better find out who to notify. Who do they belong to?”
“There shouldn’t be that many calls. Half the boys belonged to Big Bee – Moab Biot Management. Five were with Moab Replacement Services, and two were in foster homes. Would you like me to place the calls?”
“No, thank you Maury, I’ll take care of it. Especially Moab Replacement, I don’t want them thinking they can investigate us for losing their little darlings. They abuse the younger children, let the tweens run in gangs, and blame us when they grow up to be hooligans.”
“My sister worked for Moab Replacement when she was still under contract.” Maureen leaned back in her chair. “If a brat gets out of line, they treat him like royalty. But if a quiet kid makes a peep about being bullied by anyone in a gang, he gets detention and sensitivity training. I think there’s something wrong with those people. They’re anti-mole.”
“Must be hell growing up in a place like that,” said Jack.
“It is,” said Maureen, “and everyone knows it. It’s no kindness to be kind to the bullies and the aggressive and never shed a tear or share a hug with the kids who follow the rules. The place ought to be shut down and turned over to Big Bee.”
“I’ll give you no argument there,” said Wiggles. “I’m Big Bee. I still have my honey jacket.”
“Big Bee is different,” Maureen handed Wiggles a list. “A Big Bee kid hits the jackpot of life.”
“Yeah, we’ve never had to pick up a Big Bee kid in all my days,” Wiggles rapped on the table, and wagged his finger. “They make fine upstanding members of the community. Take myself for example, and they make it easy to pay off your contract. No interest.” Wiggles seemed a bit misty to Jack.
Maureen looked up from her paperwork. “Do I detect a hint of pride there Constable?”
“If you didn’t have any parents, Maury, wouldn’t you be glad to be a Big Bee?”
“I have to agree with you, Constable. A happy family is the only better place to grow up. If I didn’t have parents, I’d want to be a Big Bee.” Maureen lifted her tablet. “Back to the here and now, Wig. I’ve sent all the friends and relatives to Moab Charity per your instructions. What else do you want us to do?”
“Friends and relatives?” asked Shotgun. “Weren’t they all orphans?”
A pall settled over the hall.
“Staff,” said Jack. “All of the teachers had families. And I’m sure the agencies sent someone.”
“Yes, that’s right,” said Maureen. “And the nannies were right upset. Not every mole is as callous as a bureaucrat.” She glanced at Wiggles. “Is there anything else, Constable?”
“Keep the place locked down, Maury. No comments and no statements. I’ll talk to Willoughby and see what we need to say. We don’t want any reporters snooping around especially on the top floor. I don’t want Chesterton or that Shaw woman getting poisoned. I’ll try to put out something this evening before their late night broadcast. And get some rest. I have a hunch we’ll be busy tomorrow.”
“Yes sir,” said Maureen. “What about you sir? Are you going to get a nap?”
“I’m going to Moab Charity. If any of the victims come around, I want to be there to question them. It’ll be a long night.” Wiggles looked at his companions. “Gentlemen, care to join me?”
Mole Charity
A knock on her door woke her. “Dr. Norman?” A rumpled blanket and two squashed pillows littered her couch. Fly away locks made her look haggard. Hastily, she tied her hair, clipped it, and opened the door.
“Welcome to Moab Charity,” said Norman.
“Evening, ma’am,” Wiggles introduced them. “Dr. Norman is the assistant director here at Moab Charity. I’m afraid the Black Dwarf is taking a toll on her. I believe you know everyone.”
“Yes, Constable,” she said. “I’ve seen all of you on the vid. I take it you’ve had no luck at all finding your man.” Norman glared at him.
“None, I’m afraid.” Wiggles sounded contrite. He turned to the others as a guilty schoolboy would for support from his mates. “How are the patients from Beslan, doctor?”
“They’d be better off if they hadn’t been attacked.” She huffed. “We moved them to the psych ward. It’s the only wing with personnel trained to accommodate the comatose. They are unresponsive. Scans show no brain function above that required for cardiopulmonary function and basic metabolic activities. We’ve tried stimulants, smelling salts, and even mild shocks without avail.”
“Can’t you do anything to help?”
“We don’t know what’s wrong, Constable. There’s nothing wrong with them according to our scanners and tests. It’s as though their voluntary nervous system stopped functioning for no good reason. I’d say they’re brain dead, but they’re not. We searched for traces of known neurotoxins, and found nothing. The lab boys haven’t given us anything either. We haven’t found any chemical trace of a poison. The tests we’ve completed are negative.”
&n
bsp; “So you haven’t made any progress,” Wiggles shook his head.
“Thanks for your professional assessment, Constable,” said Norman. “Would you like me to grade your progress? But no, the prognosis isn’t good. We’re still in the dark, but I haven’t given up.”
“Sorry, doctor,” said Wiggles. “Pardon my bedside manner. Please don’t take it as criticism. We’re just desperate.”
“No need to apologize. Everyone’s on my back. They’re accusing me and my staff of everything from incompetence to complicity in a conspiracy theory.” She rubbed her temples. “The way they carry on, you’d think we poisoned the children. I’ve contacted Nodlon Memorial for advice. I’ve called everyone I can think of. We’ve put out a medical advisory alert to the whole planet. So far, no one has any new suggestions. If anyone has any new ideas, I’d like to hear it.”
“I’m sure you’re doing your best, doctor,” said Wiggles. “How are the security guard and the girl?”
“They’re still in intensive care,” said Norman. “The little girl is hanging on. She’s strong. The security guard isn’t doing nearly so well.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Wiggles flashed a smile. “Anyone we can lean on?”
“Lean on the Moab crime lab,” she said. “Pauling runs the lab. He’s a friend of mine, and he runs a tight ship. I know they’re working around the clock. I’m sure they’ll let us know as soon as they find anything. But they won’t return my calls. The silence is deafening. I assume it means they’ve run into dead ends so far, but it would be good to know if they’ve made any progress.”
“Yes, doctor. I know Pauling too. I’m sure it’s just pandemonium over there. The lab’s been evacuated to Iron Mountain. Half the staff was mobilized. I’d bet Pauling is in a panic, but I’ll put in a word.”
“Fine Constable, it’s good to know we’re not alone, but it’s just frustrating being left in the dark. I’ll call him later and see if we can shake the tree.”
“Can we see the patients?” asked Wiggles.
“You’ll have to wait. I’ll contact you immediately if there are any developments.”
“Doctor, the killers tried to murder seventy orphans and their teachers. We got lucky this time. But they’re still on the loose, and they’ve kidnapped a dozen boys. If we don’t stop them, I’m afraid those children may die. I can’t afford to miss a clue.”
The doctor’s eyebrow shot up, and her shoulders straightened. “Constable, I’m well aware of the seriousness of the situation. I can’t let you speak to patients who are in no condition to answer questions.”
“What about my men?”
“We moved your officers to a recovery ward. They must not have received a full dose. They weren’t comatose like they others. They’ve recovered sufficiently to have visitors. You can see them.”
“Yes, thank you doctor,” said Wiggles. “We’ll start there.”
They all feared for the patients, but the Black Dwarf had a dozen hostages. Wiggles frowned. Little green biots! They’re just boys.
“Good,” said the doctor. “I’ll have a nurse show you the way.” She pressed a call button.
A spritely mole woman with a gentle smile peered around the door and said, “Yes mum?”
“Show these gentlemen to the recovery ward. They’re here to see the policemen from Beslan.” She glanced at her divan. “If you need me. I’ll be here all night.”
The nurse led them through the hospital’s maze of corridors, walkways, and passed labs to a ward for recovering patients.
“Where are the officers who came in from Beslan?” she asked at the nurses’ station.
Jack missed the answer, but she led them to an inconspicuous room like any other and walked in. “If you need anything, the charge nurse here is Misty. She can help you.” Turning on her heel, the nurse departed.
Both officers watched the news on the vid.
When Wiggles came through the door, they turned off the vid, and saluted. “Sorry, sir,” the older one said, “but we’re all hooked up.” He waved at the tubes and cables.
“At ease Jones,” said Wiggles. “Gentlemen, I give you, Adam and Jones. I understand you two are lucky to be alive.”
“Yes sir,” said Jones, “After finding the guard by the pool we took ill and I passed out. Adam managed to call for help before he lost it.”
Quietly, Gumshoe took a seat in the other visitor’s chair. Shotgun made an advantage of his size and sat on the room’s trash can. Jack leaned against a wall, and folded his arms.
Wiggles maneuvered around the patient’s wardrobe, and wedged his bulk into a visitor’s chair. “Let’s have a quick debriefing, if you’re up to it. I want to know what happened. What can you tell us, Jones?”
“We found the children and staff in the gym staring into space.”
“Worse than stoners,” added Adam.
“That’s when we called in the medical disaster code” said Jones. “We were trying so hard to get their attention we forgot to look around. We hadn’t even noticed the Zodiac sign.”
“Spooky, it was like they were zombies.”
“The lights were on, but no one was home.”
“Did you try to rouse them?” asked Wiggles.
“Yeah,” said Jones, “we shouted at them, poked them, and gave them a whiff of the smelling salts from our first aid kit.”
“We couldn’t think of anything else to try,” said Adam.
“Lives were on the line,” Wiggles said. “You did the right thing.”
“So we started searching the floor,” said Jones. We saw the Zodiac, and that chilled us to the bone.”
“After we saw it,” said Adam, “we called you. Big trouble in little Moab.”
“We found the guard face-down next to the pool. The two canisters were on the bottom of the pool.”
“How did you know it was gas?” asked Wiggles.
“We smelled an odor,” said Adam. “Jones thought it was gas right off.”
“It smelled like pine trees,” said Jones. “The cylinders on the bottom of the pool looked like thermos bottles. Maybe a terrorist used the bottles to mix the components of a gas the way kids do in chemistry class.”
“Good thinking, I’ll mention that in my report,” said Wiggles. “What did you do next?”
“Not much we could do sir,” said Adam. “We left our gas masks in the boot. I held my breath, but it was no good. I had to breathe. I was closer to the girls’ locker room door, and I ran that way. My head spun and I got sick to my stomach. I tripped on the kid, and I almost passed out there. I reached the hall, and I called dispatch and warned them of the gas. Then I passed out.”
“We heard on the news they got our warning,” said Jones. “Lucky for us, Adam doesn’t need to breathe like most folks.”
“I’m in better shape than you are,” said Adam. “I work out more.”
“Those with less upstairs,” countered Jones, “need less air than the rest of us.”
“You two sound like you’re married,” said Shotgun.
“Hey, they’re announcing something on the vid,” said Jones. “Turn up the sound Adam.”
“Put it on Adam,” Wiggles shrugged. “We’d better all hear it.”
Adam stabbed a button, and the anchorwoman’s voice filled the hospital room. “Good evening, Nodlon,” she said. “I’m Minerva Shaw, we will hear from Warlord Arnold in the wake of the horrific attack on the Beslan School in Moab. The Warlord will speak to us from the Octagon’s pressroom. Now please stand by.”
A middle-aged elf made his way to a podium standing in front of Nodlon’s blue flag.
“Citizens of Nodlon, friends and visitors, I come to you tonight with a heavy heart. We have been attacked again by vicious terrorists. Last week, we thought these fiends were ordinary murderers, but a few days ago they destroyed a supertanker. Fortunately, the only casualties were among their own.
“Yesterday, they attacke
d innocent dwarf girls.
“Today, they attacked mole children. By the narrowest stroke of luck, the bravery of a security guard spared us from a greater tragedy. The victims lie in a psychiatric unit of Moab Charity Hospital.
“Even now, a dozen mole boys remain missing. All of Nodlon has seen the news. These may be biots, but biots are people too. Make no mistake, agents of Mars are behind these attacks. The Martian War Maker created the poison used in the latest attack. We don’t know what it was, but we suspect an advanced military neurotoxin. All Nodlon grieves tonight.
“We have advised the King of all the information available at this time. No doubts remain. King Justin and his advisors are considering the matter now. I am certain they will reach the right conclusion and take the only proper course of action.
“I pledge by my sacred honor to find the missing mole children, and bring this filth to extreme justice. Thank you for your attention. May Mother Earth cover your bones.”
Reporters called out questions, but he only raised his hand, “Later, ladies and gentlemen.”
Finished, the elf parted a curtain and strode off the stage.
Adam muted the vid and for a moment the room sat in stunned silence.
“Well that cuts it,” said Gumshoe. “Arnold’s advised them to go to war, and he’s hoping they’ll do so immediately. Now that he’s blamed the War Maker’s for the poison, the Council has no choice, and King Justin must agree or risk becoming irrelevant.”
“If Mars wants a war,” growled Shotgun. “Shouldn’t we let them have it?”
“On their terms?” asked Gumshoe. “The Martian war mongers have stoked this war for twelve years while we sat on our hands. When President Nogora replaced Director Goodenuf, and executed him for executing terrorists, we said nothing. When they threw their own in the prisons in the crater of Hellas, we said nothing. When they took Ceres station, we said nothing. What choices do we have left?”