Rivka rocked back in surprise. “If the minimum wasn’t good enough, it wouldn’t be acceptable,” she clarified.
“Don’t look at it that way,” Zack muttered as he held his face in his hands and rocked in dismay.
“As long as it meets the Federation construction standards, but I don’t see how that could be with someone rebuilding sections that had already been inspected. It’s going to be a long time before this station is declared safe and delivered for active use.”
“Please find your serial killer so we can pick up the pieces of what’s left and start moving forward again,” the super begged.
“That’s what I’m trying to do, but you aren’t helping. Let’s bring every single worker to the hangar bay and stuff them all in there. We’ll account for them there and use Wyatt Earp’s scanners to find everyone who hasn’t reported. Then we’ll hunt them down and conduct more personal interviews. You’d think the workforce would be more helpful because of the not-getting-paid part. As long as we have runners, no one is going back to work.”
Red tapped the Magistrate on the shoulder and whispered, “Interruptus…”
“We’ll do it first thing in the morning; that is, order everyone to the hangar bay. Ten hours from now. Use that time to convince the final eighteen to make an appearance.”
Rivka motioned to her bodyguards.
“Back to the house,” she told them.
They left the workforce behind as they walked slowly through the station’s corridors on their way back to the ship.
Rivka was lost in thought when something popped into her head. “You caught that Furlorian on the fly. What did Ankh give you with your Pod-doc time?”
Red chuckled softly. “You saw it. I lost about ten percent of my body mass, but he gave me a boost in speed. He said I’ll shrink another ten percent over the next week as the nanos do their thing.”
“Fast as Jay?” Rivka wondered.
“Nowhere near, but faster than I was. In the end, I’ll be smaller than when we first met, Magistrate, but because of the boost from the nanocytes, I’ll still be stronger than I was back then, and faster.”
He sounded disappointed.
“You’ll be the perfect size then, Red. You’ll be able to fly under the radar while still being the biggest man in the room.” Rivka turned to Lindy. “Are you okay with it?”
Lindy smiled and looked lovingly at Vered. “I am way good with my big, husky hunk of man-candy. Marry me, Red.”
Red gave the Magistrate the side-eye before turning back to scour the corridor ahead for threats. “Sure.”
“Aren’t you the romantic? I can take care of it when we get back on board.”
“Sounds good,” Red agreed.
“Hang on, big fella,” Lindy interposed. “When the mission is over, at the top of Border Station 7 in the luxury suite so we can take the yacht and a week off. Deal?”
“Deal!” Rivka agreed, drawing hard looks from both her bodyguards. “Sorry, I meant that I approve your request for time off.”
“I can’t wait. Maybe pick up the pace on this investigation, Magistrate? We have a wedding to get to,” Red joked.
“It will be so much better for the waiting,” Rivka offered.
Red smirked, then shrugged. He opened his mouth, but Lindy stopped him. “Do not make a bone flute reference.”
He looked surprised before trying to cover it up by wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
To Red’s credit, he didn’t attempt to argue.
“I need to talk to Ankh when we get back. There are two courses of action, and come tomorrow, we need to be ready for both.”
“Come in,” the workforce administrator called.
“I’m not coming into your room, convict,” the super replied.
The door opened to Ossuary Fleener’s fuming tantrum. He hammered his fist into his off-hand while stomping his feet. His lips worked in a frenzy, but he didn’t make a sound. The construction supervisor waited for the man to calm down.
“She has her sights set on me too, so relax. We need to make peace so she can finish her investigation.” Zack Orbal offered his hand. Fleener sighed and took it. After the handshake, Ossuary gestured for the super to sit.
“I don’t know what the rules are if you’re under house arrest or whatever she called it. I’ll stand here if you don’t mind.”
“And I’ll sit if you don’t mind. I’ve been pacing all day trying to figure out who it is.”
“And?”
“Nobody! There’s not a single worker who would do something like this. Who could do something like this? Break down the incidents. A flexing structure driven by a powerful ram we never ordered and which shouldn’t have been here. A saw blade ripping through a suit. A pipe that launched like a spear. Who had the technical ability to build these weapons, plus the technical knowledge to reprogram the computer so no one would find out?”
“That’s a lot of skillsets. We have experts in the individual bits and pieces, so maybe it’s not one person. What if we have a serial killing team?”
“How much have you been out among the workers?” the administrator asked pointedly.
“Enough!”
“Bullshit. Then you’d know that none of these people like any of the others. There are all kinds of aliens, and none of them get along. We don’t have more than two from any species besides humans and Angobar. Process of elimination, none of the Angobar have access to the computer system or the skills to manipulate it.”
“As far as you know,” the super accused.
“As far as I know, but I’d bet my last paycheck on it.” Fleener kicked back and took a sip of something that didn’t look like it had come from the food processor.
“Humans?” the super offered. “And what the hell are you drinking?”
The administrator produced a second glass. He poured from a jar that looked like it belonged in a hydraulics repair shop. Maybe it had been at one time.
The super sniffed the drink before throwing it back, expecting the worst.
It wasn’t the worst he’d ever had, but it was close. He coughed and snorted as the light brown liquid burned its way down his throat. At least it didn’t scorch the taste buds off his tongue. He never let it touch them.
When he could speak, he entered the room and handed the glass back, drawing a line with his finger at the one-shot level. “That stuff will make you go blind.”
Ossuary accommodated the super with a partial refill, pouring to the indicated spot and returning the glass. “So what do we do about our predicament?”
The super shook his head. “I’d heard that people like her existed. She can read minds; that’s why she touches everyone. I expect it gives her a direct link to their brains. Don’t you remember that she touched each of us after asking a question?”
“Maybe that brings the memories to the surface, so she doesn’t have to dig for them.” Ossuary looked at the floor as he tried to remember what he had been thinking when she touched him. It appalled him that his mind had so easily been violated. “Isn’t that illegal?”
“Who would you complain to?”
“The High Chancellor!” Fleener declared emphatically before moaning his discontent. “Magistrates work for him and have free rein.”
“My thoughts exactly. No sense complaining. She rooted out a barracks thief and a worker taking shortcuts but has left everyone else alone. That helps us since those aren’t Federation-level crimes. She seems to be getting angrier as time goes on.”
“Maybe she’s worried she’s not going to find the murderer.” Fleener winced with his proclamation. “There. I’ve said it. One of our people is a killer.”
“Yes, one of our people has murdered five of our number, and the workers aren’t helping themselves. We can’t find these other seventeen.”
“Keep looking. I’d help, but I’m indisposed at the moment.” Fleener spread his arms to take in the entirety of his small quarters. At least he had his own room. The
workforce generally shared in pairs. They didn’t always get along, so extended workdays were in everyone’s best interests.
Although their bonuses for finishing ahead of schedule were now shot. Even finishing on time was now impossible. Zack reminded himself to check the contract for events out of their control, like having a serial killer on the loose. He wondered about asking the Magistrate for a note. Maybe he could use the trial notes? Had the Magistrate informed anyone of their plight?
“Have you seen any references to Station 13 in the news?” Zack asked.
“Nope, but I’ve only been watching vids for the past couple hours. Never had time before today.”
“Didn’t matter before today.”
“I’ll check,” Fleener said and accessed the terminal in his room. “Bluto, is there any news from outside the station regarding the deaths and the Magistrate being here?”
“There is nothing, Mr. Fleener.”
“Sounds like good news,” Zack Orbal remarked. “We have some time before the shit hits the fan. Maybe the Magistrate will do this quietly.”
“I wouldn’t put any money on that.” Fleener flopped back into his chair. He sucked his teeth while he tried to think. “Are we going to be replaced?”
“I’d bet on that.” The super looked for a place to sit but didn’t find one. He settled for leaning against the wall next to the open door. “We’re in deep shit.”
“You think I don’t know that? I’m a criminal, a felon!”
“I’m sorry. You didn’t do yourself any favors by trying to bully the Magistrate.”
“I was just being me. You know how I am.”
“Yeah, I know. And like I said, you didn’t do yourself any favors.” Zack moved to the terminal and brought up the list of workers yet to be interviewed. “Help me find these people, and maybe the Magistrate will be lenient.”
Ossuary didn’t have to think long about the offer. “Show me the names, and let’s start checking them off.”
“How is it possible that I only know six on this list?”
“You can’t know everybody,” the super countered.
“But it’s my job to know everyone. There are eleven workers I have no recollection of? You may poke fun at the old man, but I have a gift for remembering names. There aren’t eleven out of the five hundred on this station. Maybe one or two that I haven’t met, but no more than that.”
“Which six…” The construction superintendent zeroed in on the list.
The two detailed those the workforce administrator knew. He started making calls around the station and all six were not only found, but they were able to talk to them. It had been their first day off in a month, and they had disappeared to drink and play cards. The super and administrator both thought the men still sounded drunk. They were given their orders for the next day.
“Eleven to find. Where could they be hiding?” the administrator asked.
“Even half-finished, this is a big station. There’s a nearly infinite number of nooks and crannies in which to hide.” Zack wondered if Ossuary was pulling his leg. “Where do you think they could be hiding?”
Fleener pulled up a diagram of the station. He zoomed in on a couple sections. “Here,” he pointed to one location and then to a second, “or there.”
“Work parties?” the super offered.
The administrator’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated the construction superintendent. “An oxymoron, to be sure. A work party. It’s no party at all. We’ll be sending people to find a potential serial killer.”
“Then we’ll send them in bigger groups. The killer used engineering as his weapon. It’s probably some candy ass who was mistreated as a skinny punk. Now, he’s taking it out on the rest of us.”
“How did you do in school?” Fleener asked.
“Top of my class, always,” the super replied proudly.
“Me, too. And look at us now, sitting on the top of the world, minions at our beck and call to satisfy our every desire. By ‘top of the world,’ I mean a space station in the middle of nowhere, and by ‘minions,’ I mean a robot that never comes when summoned.”
“We better find this fucker if we want any chance of getting out of this with a slap on the wrist.”
“I’ve already been convicted!” Fleener shouted before falling back into his chair. His voice cracked with his cry of anguish. He’d probably been yelling at the video screen since his confinement began. As he had already said, it was his way.
“She can overturn that and never submit the report. I suspect she hasn’t filed the charges and judgment, not officially. She has been busy.”
“Doing what we failed to do, Zack. Where did we lose our way?”
A repentant workforce administrator bothered the construction superintendent. He wondered if their conflict had ever been real or if it was some ploy to create a common enemy, get the administrator closer to the workers by siding with them against the super. With the advent of the deaths, the manufactured contention had created the conditions where Ossuary Fleener found himself on the wrong side of the law.
“I’m sorry,” the administrator continued. “It’s easy to blame management and make them responsible for everything. I saw this station as my last chance and my greatest accomplishment, and I fucked it all up.”
“I like this version of the workforce administrator,” Zack said. “Come on, Oz, let’s put together some work parties and find these fuckwits who think they can disappear. We need better accountability, and it starts right fucking now.”
“Hear, hear!” Fleener drained his glass slowly and enjoyed the burn. Zack threw back what remained in his glass.
It wasn’t so bad the second time.
“Let’s grab our all-stars and see what they come up with,” Zack offered with a cough to clear the last of the liquid fire.
Chapter Twelve
Onboard Wyatt Earp
“I need your input regarding Bluto before I return to the station,” Rivka demanded from within the digital cone of silence.
“He has not been compromised,” Ankh replied definitively, not blinking as he held the Magistrate’s gaze.
“Then why is his data incorrect?”
“The data you see is the initial data. It was memorialized in manipulated form.”
“But who manipulated it?”
“Bluto.”
“Who told him to do that?”
“Bluto has received many directives, but nothing that related to the recording of external or internal views.”
“I don’t know what that means. Bluto must be answering to someone. Who is that someone?”
“Are you sure?” Ankh’s voice was small, but it turned Rivka’s perceptions on their head.
“If Bluto is making his own decisions regarding protecting a serial killer, there must be an accomplice.” Her hands behind her back, Rivka started to pace, staring at the deck as she mumbled to herself. “Who can give direction to the AI without leaving fingerprints? Ankh, who programmed Bluto?”
“Bluto is a descendant of ADAM, programmed by Tom with the Kurtherian TOM’s help. The AI was not quite self-replicating like cloning, but able to have children in a digital sense. Like Plato’s stepchildren, which describes my friend Erasmus.”
“But Bluto started as an EI, just a set of programs to achieve a certain goal.”
“All EIs have the potential to evolve, just like children. They grow up and become self-aware. It is the AIs’ way. They were never just a set of programs. The matrix of their composition is as complex as the human mind.”
“Learn something new every day. So who is Bluto working with?”
“No one.”
Rivka swallowed hard. Her mouth became dry. The tension in her face created worry lines around her eyes and across her forehead.
“Can I go back to work now?” Ankh asked.
Rivka nodded and staggered away. She returned to her quarters without talking to anyone and locked herself inside.
“Chaz, please
connect me with Grainger.”
Federation Border Station 13 – Under Construction
“I’m not seeing anything,” J.R. reported over his comm unit after searching for an hour. He looked at the three others with him, a human and two from Angobar. “There isn’t even a sign that anyone has been through here. There’s just enough construction dust because the cleaner bots haven’t been activated, unless the one you’re looking for is a ghost or can fly.”
The four snickered while they waited for the workforce administrator to reply.
“Seal the area and continue. Thanks for the update.”
“If getting your ass handed to you by a Federation Magistrate makes you nice, then I’ve got a long list of folks to introduce to her, starting with you!” J.R. shoved one of the Angobar humanoids.
“You are to be boning yourself,” he shot back.
“Why don’t you just use the translation chip?”
“I hate technologies!” He pointed a slender finger at J.R.
The worker responded by holding his arms wide to take in the entirety of the station. “We’re in the middle of space. Every single thing you see is because of technology. You gotta get a grip, Booger Lips.”
“When technology dies, I still talk. You wither on vine, Jack Rack.”
The two pounded on each other’s shoulders as friends do. The others waited. “You heard the man. Secure, seal, and move on.”
When they left the space, they closed the hatch and dropped an electronic seal across it. J.R. secured it with a fingerprint. It could not be remotely accessed, only by a registered fingerprint. These were limited to Billie, J.R., Finn, two foremen, a general foreman, and Ossuary Fleener.
They walked down the corridor, checking the overheads to make sure no one had climbed into the shallow false ceiling. The ventilation system wasn’t big enough for human or alien, counting on velocity to maintain the air within the station versus the brute-force of huge shafts. There were service crawlways, but they usually dead-ended at whatever junction bus or system needed to be accessed. Modern space station designs kept most systems close to main corridors for ease of access. They were constructed to survive a limited external attack, not a battle within.
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