“General Reynolds had an hour and fifteen minutes. Nathan Lowell guessed three days,” Ankh reported.
“But he bet we’d be running. By all that’s holy, I’m a barrister and a Magistrate. There should never be any running. There should be state dinners and dances.”
No one had an answer to that except Red. “But you always run. One-hundred-percent-sure bet. Someone is going to clean up if there’s no running.”
“Terry Henry Walton, the eternal optimist. We happily take his credits after every case.”
“No running!” Rivka wanted her declaration to be true.
“I once heard a Magistrate tell a perp that it wasn’t what you said but what you did that matters.”
“Fine.” Rivka didn’t mean she was fine with the resolution, only that the conversation was over. “I think you have an appointment with the Pod-doc, Vered.”
He didn’t move until Lindy grabbed him by the arm.
“Fine,” he parroted the Magistrate’s tone. The two headed toward the engine room, turned around, and followed a transverse corridor toward the cargo bay.
“Where is the Pod-doc?” Rivka asked.
“This ship has a large storage area that can also be used as a hangar bay. The yacht will fit in there if you want to bring it along,” Jay replied.
“My ship. You’d think I’d know these things.”
“You know the cases and the law. It’s okay that we know this stuff for you.” Jay punched the Magistrate in the shoulder before dipping to scratch Floyd behind her ears. “You snuck up on us, you little fluffball!”
I know! the wombat squealed.
“Come on, Magistrate. Let me show you your ship while you think about the next steps of the case.”
“She did what?” The construction superintendent knew exactly what she was doing.
He gestured for the super to follow him to a more private space than the public area where the safety manager’s desk sat. They moved through a short corridor and into an area that had not yet been built out. Boran closed the door behind them.
“You had to know. You called her in to give you top cover. You know we’re all on the same team, right?”
“I always know that!” Zack Orbal bristled.
“Bullshit. This is you and me here. You need to treat me more like an adult. Since the first death, you’ve pushed yourself farther from me, as if setting me up for a fall. If I go, you go, too. But you know what the Magistrate found? We’re not building this station according to the plans. A fixed attachment was built on a pin with a hydraulic ram. How in the hell did anyone sneak that in? That’s not safety-guy stuff. That’s construction superintendent-level. Who orders the materials and approves the construction, including directing the inspectors?”
“She found what?” the super stammered. Boran waited. He wasn’t about to repeat himself. Zack’s eyes darted back and forth as he searched his mind for anything untoward. “Everything I know suggests this station is being built to exacting specifications by designs available to every member of this crew.”
“That’s what I thought, but then who?”
“Fleener,” Zack declared.
“The administrator is killing his own people and sabotaging the station? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“You’re out of line.” The construction superintendent didn’t like to be contradicted.
“I might be the only friend you have in here. If you’ve been doing something, the Magistrate will find it. If you think you’re smarter than her and her team, you are sorely mistaken. She’s going to find out what’s up, and anyone involved can stand the fuck by.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Capital punishment. Mass murderers get executed in the Federation. If you don’t have anything to do with it, then calm your tits and calm the workforce. Don’t try to play them against the Magistrate. You want her to bring in Federation security? Do you think we need more Yollins crawling around the station and beating people into line?”
“We have too many security people already.”
“And it hasn’t helped.” Boran thought he was making progress with the man. The construction superintendent had been aloof from the outset, but his back was against the wall. That was why he had called the Magistrate. “Get Fleener and talk with the workforce. Don’t tell them that detail about the pin and ram, but settle them down. If they try to mob her again, I fear they’re going to get hurt. And my job is to keep people from getting hurt.”
“I know,” Zack admitted. He didn’t bother to thank the Great Waldini for the magic of redirection. Or maybe it was the power of good leadership. The construction superintendent was an exceptional organizer, but when it came to relating to the frontline workforce, he was sorely lacking. He had people for that, but they had abandoned him, leaving him swinging in the solar winds.
With construction halted, it was time for Zack Orbal to step up, and he knew it. He only needed to hear it from someone like Boran Waldin, a person he should have listened to more from the outset.
Why hire a professional if he wasn’t worth listening to?
The construction superintendent nodded to his safety manager and walked out, the burden of the new station and its issues weighing heavily on his mind.
He headed straight for the common area before using the station’s system to locate Ossuary Fleener, whose fate was inextricably tied with his.
“Workforce Administrator Fleener is located on deck two in the common meal area,” the station AI replied.
“Thanks, Bluto.” Zack was kinder to the Entity Intelligence than he was to most people. Maybe he had more in common with Ossuary Fleener than he cared to admit, and that grated on his soul. The construction superintendent decided it was better to start with a meeting in neutral territory than by going to the crews’ safe place, their dining facility. Tempers would be hot. He didn’t want to get an organic, fully biodegradable ketchup bottle in the head. “Please ask him to meet me down here.”
Twenty minutes later, Ossuary strolled in. He was followed closely by a trio of hard faces, workers who appeared to be the thug brigade. Two carried huge spanners, and the other, a hammer.
Zack had to bite his tongue at the smug look on the administrator’s face.
“Thank you, gentlemen. This will be a private meeting.”
“I don’t know if I can trust you,” Ossuary said in his slimiest voice. “These three are representatives from the various labor trades. If you can convince them, the rest will fall in line. Meet Billy, J.R., and Finn.”
“Gentlemen.” Zack spoke strongly, evenly. “Now that the Magistrate is here, we need to cooperate.”
“You’re not convincing them.” Ossuary crossed his arms, refusing to move out from under the protective shadow of his three so-called representatives.
“The Magistrate has the authority to implement capital punishment. If she finds the person responsible for murdering five of our people, you can be sure they will pay. Mass murderers don’t go to Jhiordaan. They get executed. What if she finds a conspiracy? What if she finds people who are obstructing her investigation by forming mobs and preventing her from investigating? You can bet your last paycheck that when you see her again, she and her people are going to be heavily armed. You don’t want to get in her way.”
The workforce administrator had heard sensationalized threats before. He was unimpressed.
“We have a killer out there. It’s someone we all know.”
“Who?” Fleener asked.
“There’s no one sneaking around the station. All work is done by people I hired, and you manage. Tell me how it could be someone we don’t know.” The challenge wasn’t something that Ossuary could ignore.
“They were accidents.”
“They weren’t, and that’s why the Magistrate shut down the work. She’s not going to allow us to start back up until after she finds the murderer.”
“I don’t like hearing that word. It sounds like you
’re demeaning the workforce. I think I’ll file a formal complaint.” Ossuary looked at his trio of enforcers. They nodded in return.
The construction superintendent sighed long and slow while shaking his head. “Your complaint will go up through corporate channels, and maybe into labor and then legal channels. It’ll keep climbing until it gets to the top levels of the Federation, and then if they want to kick it higher, it’ll go to the Magistrate. Since she’s here, why don’t you address your concerns directly with her? You’ll get an immediate answer.”
“I think I will!” Ossuary puffed out his chest.
The construction superintendent had put Fleener right where he wanted him. Let the Magistrate convince the administrator.
“Bluto, can you get the Magistrate on the comm, please?”
“Of course, Mister Orbal,” the EI replied formally.
Ossuary had bluffed, and Zack had called it. The comm signaled that it was ringing through.
“This is Magistrate Rivka Anoa. How can I help you?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, Magistrate, but I have the workforce administrator here, and he’d like to register a formal complaint.”
“Let’s hear it,” she replied.
The super gestured for Fleener to take over. The workforce administrator glared at the man before composing himself.
“Yes, ma’am. I take offense that the construction superintendent has called one of my workforce a murderer. We would harbor no such person here, and request to get back to work immediately.”
“There is a murderer running loose on Station 13, Administrator Fleener. And my preliminary analysis suggests the most likely candidate is one of the frontline hands. If you’re protecting that individual to such an extent that you are enabling his or her ability to kill people, you’ll be subject to being charged with the same crimes, and more importantly, the same punishment as the perpetrator. Do I make myself clear?”
Fleener clenched his jaw, and his lip started to quiver. The Magistrate had played her trump card without bothering to see his hand.
“Are you still there, Administrator? I can only take your silence as an admission that you know who the person might be. As such, I need to talk to you privately.”
“Not without representation!” the administrator blurted. Billy, J.R., and Finn had taken an involuntary step backward, leaving Ossuary Fleener on his own. Enforcing labor’s rights was far different than harboring a person who was killing their own.
“I’ll be right there. Don’t go anywhere. And because I don’t trust you, Mr. Fleener, I’m bringing a combat unit. You should not have weaponized your crew against me. It makes you look guilty, like you’re trying to hide something. I don’t like secrets, Mr. Fleener. I don’t like those who protect criminals. I will respect your rights, but I will not let you obstruct my investigation.”
The Magistrate cut the link.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” the construction superintendent asked nonchalantly.
Fleener turned to go, but his representatives prevented him from leaving.
“The Magistrate said to wait here,” J.R. said, blocking Ossuary’s way by pushing a spanner into his chest.
“But…but…”
“I’d like a cup of coffee,” Billy noted.
The construction superintendent pointed to Finn.
“Sure.”
J.R. shook his head.
“Two coffees, coming right up.” Zack Orbal hadn’t taken enough time to get to know the workforce, but he should have. Then people like Fleener would have been allies and not enemies. There had been no reason. They all had the same goal. Build the station on time and on budget, then they’d get the next contract, too, unless they were too difficult to manage. Both men knew they were angling to be out of work sooner rather than later unless the Magistrate could get to the bottom of it by clearing them of any wrongdoing.
The construction superintendent was confident he hadn’t been complicit. He wasn’t sure about the workforce administrator.
Chapter Six
Onboard Wyatt Earp, Docking Gantry Four, Space Station 13
“The cracks have started to appear. They are feeling the pressure we haven’t even started to apply yet.” Rivka chewed the inside of her lip. “I wonder what changed?”
“You stopped the work,” Jay replied, stroking Wenceslaus’ orange fur. Floyd snored peacefully by her feet. “That shows you have power. They are starting to flail as they look for ways to get back to work.”
The workforce turning on itself was inevitable, but could Rivka manage it to her advantage?
“I know Fleener didn’t have anything to do with it. Is someone manipulating him? That’s what a good line of questioning will discover.”
Jay mimed the zombie hand, Rivka’s gift that came through touch, enabling her to see into the individual’s mind.
“Or that, but I’d like something I can defend in court just in case. This isn’t clear cut when it comes to jurisdiction. It crosses civil and criminal boundaries.”
“I thought it was murder.” Jay stopped stroking the cat, and he nudged her impatiently until she renewed her attention.
“I can’t imagine what the motive is. Without motive, we lack the intent component. It could be gross negligence that rises to the level of reckless disregard for the sanctity of life, but that section of the station was built to pivot. Why?”
Jay didn’t know, and the cat didn’t care as long as he was being petted.
Rivka looked at the ceiling. “Chaz, give me ship-wide.” She smiled. Her ship was big enough that she couldn’t simply yell to get everyone’s attention. It was much bigger than Grainger’s ship. She’d always been told that size didn’t matter.
But she liked having the biggest ship, and she’d even gotten used to the smell.
“Coming to you live from the entertainment room, I give you, Magistrate Rivka Anooooooooa!” Chaz bellowed like a sports announcer.
“Grainger is going to get his ass kicked.” Rivka stared at the ceiling.
“You’re live, Magistrate,” Chaz reported in his normal voice.
“Thank you. Private Cole, please suit up. We’re returning to the station in full combat mode. Lindy and Red, you guys too. Load up.”
“Red is still in the Pod-doc. It’s taking a little longer than expected because there was a lot of stuff to undo,” Lindy replied.
“How much longer, Ankh?”
“Another hour,” the Crenellian answered.
“We go without him. Full load, Lindy. Leaving as soon as possible. Chaz, have Boran meet us at the gantry corridor. I don’t wish to be solo on that station until I can make sure it’s no longer a deathtrap.”
Alant Cole flexed his armored muscles as he put the mech through its warmup paces. He ran it through the thirty-second routine. The HUD gave him green lights across the board, and he vaulted through the forcefield that retained the atmosphere within the cargo bay. He floated into space before he activated his jets and flew toward the Aleph hangar bay. He cruised through their screens feet-first, letting the gravity pull him to the deck, and hit it already in stride, then followed the map Ankh had uploaded for him that showed the current status of the station.
He pounded out the door and into the corridor, up an access ramp and down another corridor.
“Gangway!” he projected through the suit’s external speakers at a group of workers standing in the corridor. They didn’t move, blocking the way with their bodies. Cole quickly searched for an alternate route but didn’t have any luck. He dialed up the comm link to the ship. “Magistrate. I have workers blocking my way. Instructions, please.”
“We’re heading into the gantry now, so you need to get through them. Issue my authority, and if they refuse to move, sweep them aside and continue to marry up with us.”
“Roger,” the private confirmed. He switched back to the external speakers. “Under orders of Magistrate Anoa, I need you to move aside. I do not wish to injure you.”
Someone up front gave him the finger.
“Bold and stupid. Advertising your idiocy for the world to see,” he said to himself within the privacy of his suit. The ceiling was high in this area, having not been enclosed because the cabling and other conduits had not yet been completed.
Cole accelerated quickly toward the workers, who held their ground for only a second before diving out of the way. The middle-finger man froze where he was, his eyes as big as plates. Cole dove over his head, hit the floor, and rolled back to his feet to continue down the corridor and away from the workers.
“I’m clear. No injuries,” Cole reported.
He climbed one more set of stairs, squeezed through the double doors, and stepped into a corridor beside the gantry. Boran Waldin was already there, waiting. He jumped when the mech appeared.
“What are you?” he asked.
“Private Alant Cole, Bad Company’s Direct Action Branch, at your service.”
“I told them not to fuck with the Magistrate, but they wouldn’t listen.”
“I expect they will now.” The private cycled through his weapons systems, showing the firepower attached to the suit as well as the oversized railgun he carried.
“You don’t want to fire that thing in here.”
“You should probably wear an environmental suit at all times,” the private warned.
“Shit!” Boran threw his hands up and wildly waved them around. “Are you going to kill everyone to make sure you get whoever the murderer is?”
“It would make things easier,” Rivka said as she walked up. “But that’s not how we do things. The presumption of innocence prevails. I will do everything in my power to protect the innocent. It helps if they act innocent, but that isn’t required for me to support their right to be treated as such.”
She didn’t tell him about her ability to read minds, which could have been construed as a direct violation of their right to privacy and freedom from interrogation without probable cause. She wanted to use her ability less, having relied on it almost to a fault in previous cases.
When time was the enemy, she could better justify it. In this case, time was important because an entire workforce wasn’t getting paid, but she could mandate an exception from the Federation and try to convince General Reynolds to pay for the downtime. She made a note to herself to send the request as soon as possible, just in case the investigation took longer than a couple of days.
Fratricide Page 5