Chapter 12: Can There Be More to This?

Phil Decker pushed his hat back and scratched his hair line as he had done countless times in his very long live and with his other hand in his coat pocket he turned from the carnage and destruction before him and said to the tall woman standing a few feet behind him. “Roast me an Ult if that was done by Shiss pirates.”

The tall woman brushed a silver strand of hair out of her face the wind kept blowing back. “When I heard legendary Phil Decker was in a system nearby I could not resist and put in a call. I am just a little precinct Commandant and just a Lieutenant at that, and HQ hinted they want this case closed and filed deep before the beginning of Union week.”

The man in the somewhat anachronistic outfit knelt down next to the skeletized remains of half a human hand, the rest had been burned. “Deep enough so no news hound or sensationalist can dig it up, and make a stink before the entire Assembly, maybe even call for war against the Shiss.” The Saresii woman in the dark blue uniform of a Union Police Officer watched Decker with great interest. Very few knew he existed, or better still existed.

He was just like Stahl or McElligott, one of the Immortals and he had been a police man, a detective in an Earth city called New York long before even the Saresii had shown themselves.

He waved at one of the forensic robots and said. “Tin-head over here, collect this hand for me.”

The robot immediately responded floated across the rain soaked charred ground of what once had been a penal colony settlement and collected the bones with machine efficiency.

He pointed at a few black streaks and said. “Tin-head, make sure you record and measure all the charred marks. I’ll eat my fedora if whoever did this didn’t use Bolter Gatlings. Streaks set at exactly two fingers with, and then evenly arched across the field by someone very strong but not a robot. Perhaps a SII Fafnyr or a Enroe Firestorm.”

She came over knelt next to him into the muck and only now could she see what he saw. He was kneeling exactly where one of the shooters had stood the slight depressions the blasts made with each turn of a Gatling barrel where clearly visible. She said. “Weeks of rain almost obliterated any evidence, any traces and clues and yet you find something. Now I believe everything they say about you, Mr. Decker. I am humbled!”

He smiled at her. “Call me Phil, Celyciia. I never liked this hero worship stuff and special attention. I am just a cop, always have been and as long as I can always will be. Don’t believe half of it, try to find evidence for the rest and forget most of it.”

“What else have you observed about this case then?”

“This is the fourth of the settlements we seen so far, but only this one was destroyed from the ground. Whatever they were after was here.”

“The Penal Colonies records show that there was a yellow throat Shiss here and that would then support all the other evidence that it was a Shiss raid after all. “ She sighed. “The faint engine trails, Shiss Disabler Drones, the bribe for the Warden coming from a Credit box we know has been stolen in a Shiss raid. So I guess HQ was right and I dragged you out here for nothing.”

He got up his nice trousers completely caked with mud. “Why did you?”

“Drag you out here?” She shrugged. “It is really true, I did hear you were at Suraman Colony and since this Penal Colony and Suraman are all within my precincts jurisdiction...” He shook his head. “Barely anyone remembers me, certainly not a young real Saresii woman from the first World.”

She gestured around. “It doesn’t add up Phil. This is overkill, yes the Shiss could have been angry and they are vicious and maybe the Yellow throat was really pissed and ordered them to take it out on the others here, but then why bribe the Warden and not kill him too? They had the fire power to do it for certain and then there are a few other things that simply don’t feel right.”

Once again he waved at one of the robots and said. “Hey Tin head. I want aerials from this island, millimeter scale and then get me a ground radar image and look for matter compression. Something had landed here and used landing struts.”

Celyciia enjoyed her own amazement and then raised one of her eyebrows. “How did you know I am from Prime One and no Human Terran not even a Saresii can really tell who is female and who is not!”

He answered her while watching the robot ascent into the sky to make the birds eye visual scans. “I am still waiting for all my answers. Still your turn and then I tell you why it is easy to tell real women from Saresii disguised men apart, even after they had a million years of practice.”

She said with a sigh. “Because I needed help and because my academy instructor always quoted you and told us about the old Gumshoe from Earth and the great detective. When I called BRUCE to see who is in the area I really could not believe when it told me that you were on Suraman.”

The robot descended and reported. “Confirming Soil compression spots. Nine points located now covered with mud and water.”

“I guess you made detailed 3D impression scans of the exact shape of the landing plates?”

“Affirmative.”

“No sense of hurrying things. Make detailed micro scans of the depression areas for lubricants or sealants, excavate the depressions to preserve them as evidence.”

While the robot turned to execute the orders the Saresii woman asked. “Why taking the depressions?”

“The exact shape of the landing gear might tell us the manufacturer of the ship. The dirt underneath the struts is from before the attack and there is a slim chance that the ship transferred some material, a bug or something from another world and deposited it here. Telling us where it might have been before and when we catch these murderers we can compare the dirt in their landing gear and prove it came from this place.”

She smiled deeply. “You know what, Phil. I begin to feel we might catch them after all and I’ll eat your Fedora, whatever that is, if this has been done by Shiss.”

“My hat, the Fedora is my hat and I think neither you nor me need to eat it anytime soon. When we are done here we going to grill the Warden.”

She blinked. “He is Thauran but he is humanoid and I had no idea you would resort to torture or cannibalism!”

Harlex had no idea where they were. He was never a spacer, some of them he heard could tell where they were in the Galaxy just by looking outside a space ship window and compare constellations in relation to the Galactic core or something like that, at least that is how Captain Ironfist on the Starblazer always did it. His former and as it looked like future partner in crime had not spared attention to make him feel welcome.

The yacht was stocked with the finest liquors and real glass bottles with traditional made Whiskey. There was a light year wide difference between the 24 year old Dalwhinnie he was slowly swirling in the heavy bottom glass he was holding and the gut burning booze Napha used to sell. He wondered if good whiskey and the possibility of a fat credit box was worth being on the side of a mass murderer.

He watched the silver blue swirls of thick smoke of the cigar he nursed with careful slow drags and was certain whatever he had to do whatever these employers needed done was something very sinister and that they would not let anything or anyone stop them. The yacht had everything to make a long trip very pleasurable, he enjoyed a king sized vari-grav cloud bed in a spacious cabin and there was an infinity pool at the ships aft with a breath taking view of deep space while taking a plunge.

It was here, at the pool where he watched the smoke of his cigar and between the fast dissipating wafts of aromatic smoke he made sure he did see as much about Ieshia Yeager as he could. She was swimming and just climbed out of the water, in a white bathing suit that was made nearly transparent by the water and most certainly chosen by the woman for exact that feature of the fabric.

It left very little for his imagination as to visualize as how she might look without any fabric but it did lot for his other fantasies. He was a man after all, and he had spend the last 5 years with nothing for acceptable sexual companionship as is hands or Guilly the guy who operated the big mushroom stem saw and didn’t mind acting like a girl for some attention.

They had kept the women separate to make sure nothing happened in terms of pregnancies. As it would be unfair to a child to be born into a prison colony.

Ieshia came closer with a sway of fluid hip motions and said with a smoky voice. “I am included in the benefits if you do your part right.”

His body wanted nothing more than to accept her invitation but his mind was not completely switched off just yet and he asked. “What is my part? What could I do to pay for all this?”

She knelt before his chair and led her colored nails slide over the skin of his thighs protruding from underneath the bathrobe he was wearing. “We want you to guide a small expedition onto Green Hell and help us locate the old Saresii ship that had flown there and never left.”

Her answer was so surprising to his ears that even her fingers that slowly crept towards the seams of the bath robe could not distract him and he said. “The Mila Tyray?”

“You know the name of the ship?” She acted surprised.

“Every Greenie knows the legends of the Mila Tyray and the Saresii Commander Tradiderias. It was him who discovered Green Hell first and named it Mrtgtha, but that is over a million years ago, whatever is left of his ship is covered by miles of dirt and sediment, and that could be anywhere.”

She pulled the bathrobe open and said looking at him from underneath long lashes. “The Saresii from the First Empire were as evolved and technologically advanced as the Celtest, that is Tech Level 11, Harlex. Our associates obtained the Ships log and think they know the approximate location of the ships resting site. Your job is to get us there so we can do the excavation without being killed or noticed.

Ranger Salomon grinned with joy as he handed Roy his pet owner’s license.

“I have registered Partner, since we have no idea what it is, I wrote Black Dog into the species field.” Martha thanked the ranger and said, “I understand Bob, your son, is my son’s best friend and I found out Roy had spent many nights and eaten many dinners at your home.”

The ranger leaned back in his swivel chair and said, “Roy is always welcome in our home, he is more like a brother to Bob than just a friend and Roy has been more than helpful in quite a few instances for the Ranger service, by helping me find things out there.”

Martha looked at Roy and said, “I know more about the Lighting Bolters than my own son, but what I’ve heard about him over the past few days has made me very proud. But what I wanted to say is that I would like to invite you, your wife and Bob to dinner. Now I am not a very good cook but I hoped you would accept invitations to Marcello’s in town.” Marcello’s was the finest and most expensive restaurant in Ant Hill and the Ranger winked at Roy and then said.

“I am delighted to accept. I don’t think my Sarah has been out for a nice dinner in a long while and I am sure she will be as happy as I am.” Roy still could not really believe how much his situation had changed in just a few days and slowly he accepted the fact that it was indeed true and not just a dream. The Ranger got up and walked them to the door.

“I am glad it all worked out; you know the news of teenagers going outside unprotected made quite a splash in the news. It turns out you are not the only ones going outside, but so far no one else managed to get friendly with local life forms.” The Ranger’s office was in the South Wall Tower, an inward curving building following the curve of the protective dome. The right wall was transparent and allowed a magnificent view over the lake and the distant jungle shore. His mother stepped into the cabin of the Inter City Transporter after Roy and said “Since I forgot your birthday and we are in town, is there anything you’d like?” Roy shook his head.

“No Mom, they don’t sell anything here I need or like.”

“Roy I really mean it, it is not a trick and while we are not exactly rich, we earn decent salaries, a young man must have something he wants. Not that I could ever match that present you got from your Uncle Sam. I just found out what a Cerberus goes for.”

“Mom, you actually talking to me, I can go outside and I can keep Partner, there isn’t much else I want. Besides, I am really a Greenie and the things I like aren’t sold in town but at Ma Swenson’s.”

“Then let us go there and you can get something a real Greenie needs.” While traveling on a slide belt to the Flyer Hangars, others waved and several kids cheered his name and Roy felt quite uneasy about this sudden popularity and he wondered if it was better the way it was, with his friends meeting in secret and his parents knowing nothing.

Inside Ma Swenson’s boathouse main building was a cluttered sales room with show cases displaying weapons. Several models of protective Armor suits highlighted with spot lights stood here and there. Armor suit parts for a hundred models and makes stacked in high shelves. A big Flyer Arti Grav Lifter module, way too big for anything on Green Hell, stood in one corner. Gary, one of Ma Swenson’s sons leaned over the service counter, chewing something and talking to Sabari Dohr, an old Saresii who lived in one of the Research Outposts and kept mostly to herself (or himself, no one of course knew for sure) discussing something with Gary. The mangled armor arm of a Krauss- Armor Walker was between them. There were a few tables and simple chairs in the middle of everything. Trond Iveland, one of the Cities Service Engineers and a sixth generation Greenie sat there with the only Klack living on Green Hell and they were playing Eggs and Grubs, an old Klack strategy game. The whole place smelled of metal, lubricants and coffee. Ma Swenson herself stood by one of the tallest shelves directing her thin husband standing on a reach-all-platform trying to get something from the very dusty selection of refurbished parts as Roy and his mother entered from the Flyer garage air lock. She turned and waved at Roy and said, “Roy go climb up there and show Clarion where we keep the Mark 87 Actuators, that half blind Ninja Weasel I got for a husband keeps pulling the 89′s.”

Roy had no need for a Reach-All; he climbed up as fast and as nimble as a Moolax.

Ma Swenson gave his mother a glance.

“And you are?”

“I am Roy’s mother, Martha Masters.”

Ma Swenson stemmed her fists into her hips.

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