Fratricide

by Craig Martelle

  Had they seen anything? Probably not. There were five hundred workers putting the station together. Only five hundred. It was a manageable number, but it would still be time-consuming. She had spent hours with the inspectors, but they had signed off on the work. They were the last to see it before it was modified.

  How could someone make major structural modifications without being seen?

  “Chaz, get me Bluto, please, and stay on the line to double-check things if needed.”

  “Of course,” Chaz replied. A click signaled when an additional comm line opened.

  “This is Bluto,” the station EI said.

  “Bluto, Magistrate Rivka Anoa. Do you know why I’m here?”

  “You are investigating construction accidents.”

  “That’s correct. Do you know anything about the construction modifications at sites Echo-5, Delta-4, and Charlie-3?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know.”

  “That’s not a very EI-like answer.” Rivka sucked her lip as she looked at the screen showing an interview transcript. It filled in her words as she spoke.

  “It’s the only EI answer I have. ‘I think I don’t know’ would give me more credit than I deserve for my ability to generate independent thoughts more akin to a sentient being’s. I am sure I don’t know is the best and only answer I have,” Bluto countered.

  “Who modified the videos?” Rivka asked, impatient with the EI’s extended explanation.

  “I’m sure I don’t know.”

  Rivka took a deep breath and waited. An EI. Programmed responses only. There was no reason to be upset. It didn’t have the capacity for sarcasm.

  It sounded like it, though. I’m sure I don’t know.

  Rivka changed tack to something the EI could answer. “What is your process for recording and storing the video from the camera providing oversight of the area marked Echo-5?”

  Bluto explained the capture parameters and pathways of the digital delivery and the exact location within the new organic storage system where it would wait until retrieved.

  “There has to be a record of each time the video is accessed.”

  “There is,” Bluto agreed.

  “Great. Who accessed it and when?”

  “Boran Waldin three hours after the safety incident, and then Chaz two hours ago.”

  “Did either of those two modify the file?”

  “No.”

  “Somebody did. Who else accessed the file?” Rivka was growing impatient again.

  “I’m sure I don’t know.”

  Rivka thought her head was going to explode. She stood and returned to the counter where the diffuser passively spread a pleasant scent through her stateroom. She breathed in the smell. Lilacs—something Rivka had never touched in real life. She imagined them as purple with dashes of red in a stately flower that towered majestically over the others within the garden. Wyatt Earp had a small hydroponics bay. Maybe she’d plant flowers if Jay hadn’t already.

  “Chaz, I’d like a private side-bar with you, please.”

  “We are now secure. Bluto is standing by.”

  “We need to look into Bluto’s programming. Someone is able to bypass his normal command and control circuitry. It is unfathomable that he couldn’t tell who accessed his secure files.”

  “I believe it is fathomable. Ankh was into his system in moments after making the attempt. I doubt Bluto knew his circuits were open to the universe.”

  “Is he that limited in scope? Is he correct when he says he doesn’t know?”

  “I suspect he does know but isn’t able to analyze the limitations to dig deeper into the anomalies. He checks the standard file coding, and it tells him it is unmolested when we know that it has been changed. He accepts the file properties as absolute truth and is unable to look at them from any other angle.”

  “I’ll buy that. So how do we dig deeper into his system and look for what he can’t?”

  “We’re already doing that, Magistrate. I initiated the search immediately following his last denial of knowledge. I refuse to let a fellow software system self-destruct under questioning.”

  Rivka opened her mouth to reply but couldn’t come up with the words. She settled on something simple. “Let me know when you have something. I’ll be touring the ship.”

  She left the comfort of her stateroom behind and headed straight for the engine room. She hadn’t been in the area before and was surprised by its spaciousness. She wondered how much of the ship it entailed. She hadn’t bothered with digging into the size of her ship, but it was much larger than Grainger’s frigate, so much so that she wondered if they were the same class. She wasn’t sure what was the next size up from a frigate. Maybe his was a large corvette and not a frigate at all.

  Did it matter?

  Yes, she decided. Words were important because they created the common frame of reference that made all conversations possible and gave negotiations a chance for success. A mutual understanding was important for language as a whole. To communicate a concept, one must use words with agreed-upon definitions.

  She would check later into the various ship classes.

  Rivka walked through the space with her hands clasped behind her back as if conducting an inspection. Clodagh was elbow-deep in a panel, and a small toolkit sat on a stand beside her.

  “Magistrate! Welcome to my nightmare.”

  The greeting caught Rivka off-guard. She was still thinking through her conversation with Bluto. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

  “Just a figure of speech, Magistrate. Wyatt is a great ship.” Clodagh wiped her hands on a rag even though they looked clean, and afterward, the rag looked clean, too. “It’s old enough to need some tender loving care while new enough that nothing major is going to go wrong, plus, the little guy has upgraded some of the system buses and energy conduits. If we used all the power available to us, it could either propel us across multiple galaxies at one pop or reduce us to trillions of molecules accelerated to near-light speed, expanding like a supernova.”

  Rivka chuckled. “No in-between, huh?”

  “It’s all or nothing, do or die.” Clodagh nodded emphatically. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Looking for Ankh.”

  The lieutenant pointed with her chin. Rivka winked and walked in that direction. She found the Crenellian huddled within a holo-field.

  “Ankh,” she said loud enough that there was no doubt he heard her. She counted to five before sticking her hand through the three-dimensional projection and waving before his face. He didn’t respond, just kept tapping on the holographic touchpoints.

  She poked him in the chest. When he didn’t respond to that, she poked him a second time in the forehead. Finally, the holoscreens dropped. He turned his unemotional eyes to her. “Humans have to be the most impatient of species. First, Terry Henry Walton, and now you. Can you not wait until I’m done?” He asked evenly without moving his head or engaging in any other way.

  “But you’re never done, Ankh. You always have something. You and Ted are the busiest people I have ever met. You don’t waste a single moment. I feel like I am always bothering you. I want to hurry up and be done with it so you can get back to what you’re doing. I apologize now and forever because I suspect that I will always interrupt you.”

  At least in your mind, she thought.

  “I will accept your premise that I am always busy, like now. I’m busy. What do you want, and how much time will it take?”

  “We need to speak in complete privacy, with no one, not Erasmus or Chaz or anyone else listening. I need answers only you can provide.”

  “Fine, although Erasmus can’t be silenced. He sees and hears everything I do. If you want to talk to me, you talk to him, too. We’ll keep your secret, Magistrate.” Ankh didn’t sound convincing. The emotionless tone of his small voice was usually unpersuasive, but the words? Those carried the full weight of his message.

  “I agree,” the Magistrate replied. Ankh closed his eye
s for a moment. The hairs on Rivka’s arm stood up as something unidentifiable passed over her.

  Ankh opened his eyes and informed her that she could speak freely.

  “What did you do?”

  “EM field. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

  She knew he was being sarcastic, but his point was clear. She needed to get to her question. “How can we tell if Bluto has been compromised, or Chaz for that matter?”

  “If anyone is accessing a system from the outside, they will leave telltale signs. It’s not hard to find them if you know what you’re looking for.”

  “You assured me you could get into systems without leaving fingerprints.” Rivka hovered her hand near the Crenellian, not quite zombie pose, but close enough for it to draw Ankh’s attention. He watched her hand as he answered.

  “I’m not just anyone. I could tell if someone got into a system even if they had authorization.”

  “Can you check Bluto first, and then Chaz, without anyone knowing, of course.”

  “Of course,” Ankh repeated. “Why did you have to ask this in private?”

  “I think our perp knows everything that Bluto knows. They might have gotten into Chaz, too. A standard interrogation technique is to separate the witnesses and have them give their version of events. Then we bounce the different statements against each other to see what’s different. I’ve asked Bluto questions, but I felt he purposely avoided giving a direct answer. I’m not sure he answered any of my questions, come to think about it. And if the perp knows where we’re looking, he may be good enough to drop red herrings across his tracks.”

  “I’ll take a look. Is that all?”

  “It is. Thank you, Ankh. You are a valuable member of the crew.”

  Ankh shooed her away, and as soon as she was outside his bubble, the holo-screens returned. The Crenellian disappeared within the confines of his own digital construct, tapping and spinning as part of his interface dance.

  Rivka didn’t know if positive reinforcement worked on the Crenellian, but she was a believer. Anyone who helped needed to know they were helpful. Even if she had to play twenty questions to get there. She could skip the small talk with Ankh, and that was the revelation she needed.

  Get to it and save valuable time for both of them.

  She nodded to Clodagh as she passed, but the engineer didn’t notice. She remained focused on the panel and her detail work within.

  Once in the main section of her ship, she stopped and took in the space. The airlock, the long corridor to the bridge, a transverse corridor to take her to the port side of the ship. So much space. Aurora popped into the corridor from a side room, waved, and continued toward the bridge.

  I have to spend more time with the crew, Rivka vowed. But first, I have a murderer to catch.

  “Red! Lindy!” she bellowed down the corridor, stalking forward confidently

  “I thought I heard a bistok in heat,” Red quipped when he stuck his head into the corridor. “Was that you?”

  “I shall make small jokes for the rest of your existence.” The look on Red’s face suggested such jibes wouldn’t be well-received. “Okay, I won’t. Lindy, are you in there?”

  “I don’t have my clothes on,” she called from within. Rivka stopped instantly and turned away.

  “I don’t want to know. We need to head back into the station. I want to talk with some more people and see some of the interfaces that have already been installed.”

  Red smiled mischievously as he blocked the door with his body. Rivka held out her hand, and he shook it warmly.

  “Welcome back, big man. We missed you, but never again. I need you with me. Get in there and get ready. Full gear.” Rivka took two steps before stopping and turning back. “Those aren’t your quarters.”

  He laughed in reply.

  It dawned on the Magistrate. “Oh no, you don’t. You are not going to ‘break in’ every space on this ship, do you hear me, Vered?”

  Red tried to look contrite.

  “What’s the bet?” Rivka asked.

  “A date for the wedding,” Lindy added, adjusting her top as she leaned past Red.

  “I’m the captain of the ship as well as a Magistrate. I can marry you guys here or in space. Why don’t we just get it over with so I don’t have to wonder when you’ve been in my quarters?”

  “That will be the toughest…” Red said slowly.

  “Come on, you sickeningly sweet lovebirds. Let’s go find someone’s ass that needs kicking.”

  “My vote is for that weaselly workforce administrator, Fleener.” Lindy made like she wanted to spit from the distaste of having said his name.

  “Give us five, Magistrate. We’ll be there, dressed for war.”

  “We still haven’t drawn blood, but it’s been less than a full day so far. The money was on two; we’ll see if we can make it none.”

  “If you catch a guy who has killed five people and tried to murder a sixth, I doubt you’ll leave him intact,” Red offered before leaving the room and heading for his quarters.

  “Serial killer,” Rivka said softly. “And you’re right. There’s no room in this universe for anyone who enjoys killing people.”

  Chapter Nine

  Federation Border Station 13 – Under Construction

  Would she find him over the course of another day? The odds suggested she would. Rivka had no idea what went into the calculations, but with Ankh making them, they’d been accurate more often than not. Free will was eminently predictable if one included the right variables.

  The Magistrate wouldn’t ask. Listening to Ankh lecture on math would be as exciting as watching water evaporate.

  Rivka returned to her stateroom to don her ballistic protection over her shipsuit. She wanted people to talk, and they didn’t when she was dressed more formally, even if it was only in a jumpsuit. It looked civilian. With her armor and shipsuit, she looked military.

  With a final discriminating review of her appearance, Rivka tucked Reaper into her Magistrate’s jacket pocket along with her datapad and headed for the exit. She found Red and Lindy waiting for her. Jay was standing nearby.

  “Can I go, too?” she asked.

  “We’re going to high-stress some of the suspects. I’m not sure you want to be there for that,” Rivka advised.

  “You have suspects?” Jay seemed pleasantly surprised.

  “A few over five hundred. I’ll whittle them down, starting in about five minutes.”

  Jay frowned and dug at the deck with her toe.

  “What’s your offer?” Rivka asked.

  “I’ll watch and engage with those who are waiting their turn to be high-stressed, as you called it.”

  “It’s a technique to get the suspect to make a mistake because he’s emotionally charged. Disengage the thinking brain. Engage the fight-or-flight mode.”

  “I can help with those waiting or afterward.”

  “Afterward?”

  “Somebody has to soothe frayed nerves and calm the masses. We don’t want enemies, do we?”

  “You are correct, Jay. Please join us.”

  Floyd bounced up to Jay and vibrated with anticipation at leaving the ship.

  “Please?” Jay asked.

  “Any illusions that I’m in charge have been utterly shattered.” The Magistrate looked down at her outfit and then at Jay and Floyd.

  “So much for coming across as a hardass.”

  Red pointed to himself and Lindy. “We got your back, Magistrate.”

  They looked the part. Both carried railguns across chests covered by the ballistic armor that stretched over most of their bodies. They wore helmets, too, chin straps in place to keep them tight should the bodyguards have to fire and maneuver.

  “If we need to intimidate anyone, I have you two.” Rivka walked through the open airlock into the extended corridor that locked tightly to her ship. At the end of the gantry, Boran waited.

  Safety Manager Boran Waldin looked like he’d had better da
ys.

  “When’s the last time you slept?” Rivka asked, resting her hand on his shoulder as he slumped against the wall. His mind told her nothing except that he was physically and emotionally exhausted. The feeling of failure was pervasive.

  “At least Sheila looks like she’s going to pull through,” Rivka added when Boran didn’t speak. He nodded.

  Rivka continued, “You could not have prevented any of this. There’s no safety policy or training in the known universe that was going to keep workers from getting killed. We don’t just have a murderer; we have a serial killer. Do you know what makes a serial killer different?”

  Boran took note of the new conversation. He shook his head, looking up to meet Rivka’s gaze.

  “No remorse. They get a thrill from the kill without any downside. They don’t feel guilt. Let me reiterate. The murderer was going to kill people no matter what you did. You had no chance. Make no mistake—we will find this person, human or alien. They are going against me, and they will not win.”

  When he finally realized Rivka wasn’t alone, he perked up.

  He took in the group, giving Red and Lindy as hard a look as he could manage. When he saw Jay behind them, he stopped and stared.

  “Where did you come from, gorgeous?” he blurted before slapping a hand over his mouth and looking wide-eyed at the Magistrate. “I mean, where do you want to go?”

  Floyd giggled and waddled through the entourage to give Boran a good sniff.

  “No animals in an active construction zone,” he said without thinking.

  Rivka smirked. “I thought I ordered all construction halted?”

  “You did. There is no active construction zone. I’m sorry. I got all confused when I saw Aphrodite appear before me.”

  Rivka couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s one way. She’s a wombat and her name is Floyd, but if you want to call her Aphrodite, I’m sure she’ll be good with it.”

  “That’s not…”

  Rivka stopped him. “Take us to the workforce lounge. We’re going to line up the workers and talk to them one after another, daisy-chain style.”

  The safety manager looked back and forth between Jay and Rivka. Jay twirled her hair around one finger while returning Boran’s look. Red stepped in front of her to block their view of each other and gestured for Boran to lead the way.