Chapter 10: Hole Card

“We can’t get her to talk,” Boyd sighed, Lorza closing the interrogation room’s door behind him as she followed him out. Moralez was waiting for them in the corridor outside, looking up from his tablet computer as they emerged. “She’s as stubborn as a mule, won’t give us the time of day, let alone a confession.”

“She continues to insist that she had no part in the attack,” Lorza added, “and she demands that her right to diplomatic immunity be respected. I fear that we will be forced to release her if no further evidence is found. When the Rask Matriarchy lodges a formal complaint, as they surely will, we will no longer be able to hold her.”

“The listening device alone isn’t enough to pin her,” Moralez muttered, scratching his stubbly chin with his prosthetic fingers. “We need to find out who was receiving that signal, who pulled the trigger, and we have no leads. Without that, we can’t link anything back to Korbaz.”

“Did you figure out how she got it past the security check?” Boyd asked, Moralez shaking his head.

“No, it shows up on the scanners just fine, and materials analysis didn’t reveal anything out of the ordinary. Even if she had swallowed the damned thing, it would have been detected. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, we can’t decrypt the wireless signal that it was sending,” Boyd added. “It’s consumer-grade, but even that would take a supercomputer decades to crack. Did the search for the weapon turn up anything yet?”

Moralez shook his head once more, loosing a frustrated sigh. It had been a long day, and despite their discoveries, he felt no closer to finding an answer that would satisfy Vos. There were only around thirty hours left until the deadline that the Admiral had set.

“My people are still looking, but they haven’t found anything so far. If we can locate the railgun, then maybe we can figure out where it came from, but the trail has gone cold for now.”

“Then I don’t see what else we can do,” Boyd said with a shrug of his shoulders. He seemed just as deflated as Moralez felt. “We have nothing left to follow up on.”

“Perhaps we still do,” Moralez said cryptically, beginning to pace in the hall. “Have either of you considered that Vice Admiral Korbaz might be telling the truth? I wouldn’t say that we have a close relationship, but this just feels wrong to me, it isn’t her style. If she was going to smuggle something onto the hub to assassinate someone, it would be a weapon, and she’d do it face to face.”

“Yeah, I considered it,” Boyd replied dismissively. “But where does it get us? Assume that someone somehow got close enough to her to plant the device without being noticed, which is a hard enough prospect where humans are concerned, never mind Borealans who can hear a mouse fart through three feet of hull. We still don’t know how it got past security, we still don’t know who was receiving the signal, and we still don’t know who took the shot. Right now, Korbaz is the only lead we have.”

“She acted very suspiciously during the interview, and she readily resisted arrest,” Lorza added.

“She always acts suspiciously,” Moralez replied, “and of course a proud Rask would resist arrest. The more I think on it, the more out of character this all seems.”

“Okay, so let’s say she’s innocent,” Boyd continued. “It still doesn’t tell us how she got the fucking transmitter through security.”

“Perhaps it does,” Lorza mused, leaning against the wall beside the door to the interrogation room and crossing her arms. She paused for a moment, considering as the two humans turned to peer up at her expectantly. “What if the transmitter never passed through the security check at all? If all evidence suggests that sneaking it through would be an impossible feat, then what options remain?”

“If you eliminate the impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” Moralez muttered with a nod of his head. “I think you might be on to something, Agent Lorza.”

“You’re saying that the transmitter never went through the security check at all?” Boyd asked. “Then that would mean...”

“That the transmitter was already on the hub,” Lorza added, finishing his sentence. “It means that someone planted it on her person sometime between her clearing security and entering the conference room.”

“The engineer!” Moralez exclaimed, slamming his prosthetic fist into his palm. The two agents exchanged confused glances, waiting for him to elaborate. “I was with the delegates as they made their way from the torus to the conference room. Along the way, an engineer walked straight into Korbaz, he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. There was a bit of a scuffle, I thought that she was going to claw his face off, but he got close enough to her that he could have slipped the transmitter into her pocket. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, it was just Korbaz being Korbaz.”

“A perfect distraction,” Lorza added, narrowing her eyes. “Leverage the predictable aggression of the Rask to mask the planting of the device. Who would pay any mind to a frightened engineer who merely wanted to escape the situation? Iskusnyy...”

“That has to be it!” Boyd said. His prior lethargy was gone now, he seemed animated, excited. “Chief, could an engineer get the transmitter through a security check? If he hid it in a toolbox or concealed it within another transmitting device that he had clearance to bring onto the hub, for example?”

“Absolutely,” Moralez replied adamantly. “It all adds up. He could smuggle the transmitter onto the hub, he could plant it on Korbaz, an engineer would have access to the service tunnels and the jumper cables that were used to power the rifle.”

“Then Korbaz really was just an unwitting patsy,” Boyd said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to apologize to a Rask, we’ve been grilling her for the last couple of hours...”

“Security keeps records of everyone who enters the hub,” Moralez continued. “We can find out which engineers had clearance to be there, and when. The culprit’s name is just sitting in a fucking log file waiting for us to find it!” He turned and began to jog down the hallway as his companions looked on, the electric motors in his prosthetic leg whirring, an errant secretary almost dropping her tablet as she moved out of his way. “I’m gonna get Miller on the horn, be ready to move.”

“What about Korbaz?” Boyd called after him.

“She isn’t going anywhere!” Moralez yelled back, vanishing around a bend.

“Sidearms at the ready,” Moralez said, drawing his XMH from its holster and turning on the battery as the trio marched along the torus. He was clad in full Marine armor, the visor on his helmet currently raised. They were headed towards main engineering, where Miller had told them the culprit was currently located. “He’s been able to sneak one weapon onto the station already, don’t take any chances.”

“Compensating for something, Chief?” Boyd asked as he eyed the massive handgun. The agent was using a more traditional caseless sidearm that was small enough to be concealable and was equipped with a suppressor.

“On the contrary,” Moralez replied, “I don’t have to compensate for anything anymore with these arms. Least of all recoil.”

“What do we know about our target?” Lorza asked, checking the magazine on her own handgun. It was an XMH, much like the one that Moralez used, only slightly larger around the grip and trigger to accommodate her Borealan hands.

“His name is Carl Edwards,” Moralez replied, a startled group of civilians dodging out of their path. “He’s been an engineer on the station for about nine months, and he’s had no citations so far, save for a reprimand for turning up late one day. Miller says he keeps his head down and does his job, has no interpersonal issues to speak of, save for being a little averse to social situations.”

“What’s his history?” Boyd asked. “Has he had any contact with the Bugs? Does he have any reason to go rogue?”

“Not that I can tell,” the Chief replied. “He came from a colony planet that has never been invaded, and this is his first posting. He seems completely unremarkable.”

“Then perhaps money was the motivation?” Lorza asked.

“I dunno ... he has a lot of drive for someone who doesn’t have a personal hatchet to bury,” Moralez said. “Unless he has some hidden debts that nobody knows about, I don’t see it.”

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Boyd muttered, nodding at something ahead of them. It was the main engineering building, one of the few structures in the engineering quarter that looked like anything other than a featureless block, or a mess of pipes and machinery. This was where all of the systems that kept the station running were located, from the massive water processing plant to the nuclear generators that provided power to the immense structure. While most of the station’s torus was designed to trick the inhabitants into thinking that they were on a city street, or in a military academy, this area looked like an industrial park made entirely from white metal. There were still planters and benches, but the illusion was much harder to sell.

“Edwards doesn’t know we’re coming,” Moralez said as they approached the building’s entrance, a pair of sliding doors made from glass that were built into the facade. “Let’s get this done quickly. Remember, a slug from an XMH will go straight through the perp, and everything that’s behind him, so pick your shots carefully.”

“That’s why I use one of these,” Boyd said, brandishing his pistol. “Hollowpoint, no over-penetration.”

An engineer who was headed for the door paused when he saw the trio with their weapons drawn, Moralez shooing him away.

“Miller is waiting to meet us,” he said, waving them forward. “Let’s do it.”

They made their way in through the main door and into a sparsely furnished lobby, a startled secretary sitting behind a desk widening her eyes as Moralez approached her.

“Miller?” he asked.

“I-I’ll let him know you’re looking for him,” she stammered, holding a finger to her ear and tapping at the touch panel on her monitor for a moment. “Yes, Sir. Three of them. I’ll let them know. He’s on his way,” she added, lowering her hand as she eyed their weapons warily. “Would you like to ... sit down?”

“I prefer to stand,” Boyd replied with a grin, Lorza shooting him an angry look.

After a moment, Miller emerged from one of the corridors that led deeper into the building, jogging over to meet them.

“Edwards is in the employee lounge,” he said breathlessly, “down the hallway and to the right. I called everyone else away to make sure it’s clear. Try not to go all cowboy in my building, alright? Patching holes is easy enough, replacing employees is less convenient.”

“I appreciate the help, Miller,” Moralez replied as they proceeded down the hall. They soon arrived at a door marked ‘employee lounge’, Boyd gesturing for them to stop before they got close enough to activate the automatic sensor.

“What is it?” Moralez whispered, watching as the agent aimed his visor at the featureless wall and began to tap at his temple.

“This puppy lets me see through certain materials that aren’t too thick or protected by shielding,” he explained. “Okay, I’m picking up one heat signature. There’s a guy sitting on a couch by the far wall, directly adjacent to the door. Nobody else is in the room. Can’t tell if he’s armed.”

“I’m wearing armor, so let me breach,” Moralez said as they stacked up. He flipped his visor down, the HUD automatically syncing with his handgun to display an ammo counter and a battery charge level. He held up a hand, counting down from three with his polymer fingers, then moved into range of the door’s sensor.

It slid open, and he charged inside, his weapon aimed at a startled man in yellow overalls who was sipping at a coffee cup. It was an unremarkable room, populated by couches and low tables, along with a few potted plants and vending machines.

“Military Police!” Moralez yelled, the speakers on his helmet giving his voice a synthetic timbre. “Put your hands on the back of your head!”

The man dropped his coffee in surprise, spilling it all over his coveralls, choking on a mouthful as Boyd and Lorza spilled in behind the Chief with their sidearms raised.

“Hands behind your fucking head!” Boyd shouted, his voice seeming to jolt the man out of his stupor. He let his cup fall to the carpet, his trembling hands darting to his head.

“W-what’s going on?” he demanded as Moralez marched across the room, keeping his weapon trained on him. He holstered his sidearm and produced a zip tie from his belt when he was close enough, tugging Edwards to his feet by the collar, the engineer wincing as the Chief forced his arms behind his back. He secured the zip tie around Edwards’ wrists, taking him by the collar again and marching him towards the door.

“Carl Edwards, you’re under arrest for attempted assassination.”

“What!?” Edwards exclaimed, hunched over as Moralez walked him along. “Who the hell are you people? What is this?”

“You have the right to remain silent, though I wouldn’t recommend it,” Boyd said with a smirk. “Anything you say can be submitted as evidence.”

“Evidence of what!?” the man asked. If he was feigning confusion, it was convincing.

“We know that you were on the hub shortly before the attack occurred,” Lorza said as they walked him into the hallway. “We know that you planted the transmitter on the Rask Ambassador. There is no point denying the charges.”

“You people are out of your goddamned minds!” Edwards protested. He spotted Miller as they entered the lobby, his eyes widening, Moralez forcing his head back down as he tried to stand up straight. “Mister Miller! Sir! What the hell is going on?”

Miller didn’t reply, he merely crossed his arms, watching in silence along with the secretary and a few bystanders as Edwards was led out onto the torus.

“Bullshit!” Boyd exclaimed, slamming a gloved fist on the table and making Edwards jump. They were in the interrogation room, a featureless box furnished with a metal table and a couple of chairs, lit by a harsh lamp that was recessed into the ceiling. The walls were whitewashed, and the floor was bare. It wasn’t supposed to be a comfortable setting.

“It’s true!” Edwards replied, a touch of anger overpowering the bewilderment in his voice now. The interrogation had been going on for a good hour, and everyone was becoming frustrated with the lack of progress. “I had no idea that a Bug was visiting the station of all things, and I’ve never been assigned to the hub before! My job is fixing pipes, I’m just a plumber!”

“The security logs show that an engineer by the name of Carl Edwards, with your serial number, was authorized to perform maintenance work on the hub at the exact date and hour of the crime. If you’ve never set foot on the hub, then how do you explain that?”

“I don’t know!” the engineer protested, throwing his arms into the air in a gesture of exasperation. “What the hell do you people want me to say?”

“We want you to tell us who you’re working for,” Boyd shot back angrily, Lorza making her way over to her fellow agent and placing a calming hand on his shoulder.

“Mister Edwards,” she began, giving the engineer a warm smile that seemed to put him a little more at ease. “We can keep going back and forth all afternoon, or we can try to come to an understanding. I want to understand you, but I can’t do that unless you’re willing to talk to me. If you would prefer to see me alone, in a more private and accommodating setting, then I can arrange that.”

“I have nothing to tell you!” the man replied, glancing between the two agents as if searching for some form of guidance.

“You’re a lying sack of shit,” Boyd snapped, Edwards recoiling in his chair as though Boyd had just taken a swing at him. “If you don’t start singing, I’m going to leave you in this box to sweat overnight. Maybe you’ll be more willing to talk when you’ve been stewing in those coffee-soaked overalls for ten hours?”

“Now now,” Lorza cooed, her tone soothing. “There is no need for such threats. I am sure that Mister Edwards wants to cooperate, we just need to work with him to make that happen. Isn’t that right, kotyonok?” she asked, directing her question to the bemused engineer.

He nodded his head, then stopped, perhaps not understanding what he was agreeing to.

“Agents, if I could have a word?” Moralez asked as he gestured to the door. He opened it for them as they walked out into the hallway beyond, closing it behind him to ensure that Edwards wouldn’t overhear their conversation.

“So, where are we at?” he asked.

“He’s not bending under pressure,” Boyd said with a shrug. “Whatever he knows, he’s keeping it close to his chest, he hasn’t dropped the act for a second.”

“I am not certain that this is an act,” Lorza added. “As Agent Boyd is already aware, my work with UNNI mostly entails using psychological methods to get information, we Polars are good at reading body language and sensing pheromones. Edwards is terrified, confused. Stress hormones are leaking from his pores, and I can hear his heart beating like a drum every time someone asks him a question. I see no overt evidence of lying, but it is admittedly harder to determine the source of his anxiety.”

“Could it be because he’s been found out?” Moralez asked.

“Not impossible, but I do not think it likely.”

“We have enough evidence to go on,” Boyd said. “We have security records that put him on the hub at the right time, which means he had the opportunity. He definitely had the means. He’s an engineer, so he had access to the service tunnels, and he would have known about the jumper cables. We don’t have a motive yet, and we could really do with finding the weapon. That’s the key in all this. If we can connect him to the weapon, figure out how he got it onto the station, then I think we have this one in the bag.”

“So what’s next?” Moralez asked, “he won’t give us anything to go on.”

“I say we let him sit a while,” Boyd said, “see if it loosens his lips a little. We’re not gonna get anything out of him today.”

“We can only hold him for forty-eight hours before he has to be charged with something,” Moralez added, “but we only have a little over a day left to work with. I hope you’re right, Agent Boyd. This would be so much easier if Vos hadn’t imposed such an unreasonable time limit,” he began, then thought better of it. He couldn’t allow himself to become too relaxed around the agents, they were still working for the Admiral.

“The hour grows late,” Lorza continued, “I suggest that we reconvene tomorrow morning. There is nothing more to be done here.”

“Early bird gets the worm, eh?” Boyd asked.

“Easy for you to say,” Moralez muttered, “your jobs aren’t on the line.”

“If you have any suggestions, be my guest,” Boyd replied. “We don’t have anything else to follow up on until this guy starts talking, at least until they find the weapon that he ditched.”

Boyd was right, but somehow, admitting that to the man’s face was more than Moralez could stomach right now. They had reached the end of the trail, the case had been solved, for all intents and purposes. All that they needed to do now was find those last few threads, and pull them, then the whole thing would unravel in a way that Vos and whoever ended up prosecuting should find satisfying.

“Alright,” Moralez sighed. “Everybody get some rest, and we’ll meet back here first thing in the morning.”

“What about the Vice Admiral?” Lorza asked.

“Oh yeah,” Boyd chuckled, “she’s still in her cell. Do you think if we let her out now she’s going to be more or less pissed off than if we wait until tomorrow morning?”

“I just know that I don’t want to deal with her bullshit right now,” Moralez replied, running his prosthetic fingers through his hair. “We’ll set her loose tomorrow. Hopefully, being cleared of all charges will improve her mood enough that she doesn’t try to claw my face off as soon as I open the door.”

Moralez and the agents made their way back to the residential quarter together. Night was approaching on the station, and the sunlamps that were embedded in the painted ceiling above their heads were beginning to dim to simulate dusk. The usually crowded torus was starting to clear, the crowds dispersing. It was that small window between the day and night shifts when the station was at its quietest, as close to deserted as it was possible to get, only a few dozen people visible ahead of them before the deck curved out of sight.

As they neared the residential area, they passed beneath a series of decorative trellises that ran down the center of a section of the walkway. The flora that was growing out of the planters to either side of them created a sort of tunnel of foliage and flowers, the plants encouraged to grow around the wooden frame. It was dense enough to obscure the torus from view once one was inside, and it provided a brief respite, a moment of privacy on a station that was usually packed with people. It was tall enough that a Borealan stood no chance of hitting their head on any of the wooden beams and wide enough to let two or three of them walk side by side.

“They could have built a couple of carriers with the money that they must have burned building this place,” Boyd muttered as they passed beneath the arched ceiling. Lorza seemed far more fond of the installation, pausing to reach out and guide a yellow flower towards her nose, a smile brightening her face as she sniffed at its petals. Moralez found himself wondering what it must smell like to her, the Polar’s senses dwarfed anything in human experience.

“A little comfort goes a long way,” Moralez replied. He couldn’t see the agent’s expression behind his wrap-around visor, but he couldn’t help imagining that the man was rolling his eyes at him.

“Vos seems to think that you run this place a little ‘too’ comfortably,” Boyd replied, his casual tone failing to mask the implied threat. Moralez paused beneath the trellises, Boyd making a lazy semi-circle as he pretended to admire the plants. Lorza sensed that something was up, her ears swiveling to track the pair.

“So I’ve heard,” Moralez replied, crossing his arms over his chest with an electrical whir. “Is that an opinion that you share?”

“I think it’s time that we came clean,” Boyd replied, keeping his eyes on the wall of foliage as he reached out to inspect the buds on one of the protruding branches. Lorza shot him a questioning look, but she didn’t try to shut him up. “You’ve no doubt figured this out by now, but Lorza and I were assigned to evaluate you as much as to help you. The Admiral was very concerned, he wanted to know exactly what you get up to behind closed doors. We’ve been reporting our progress to him, but we’ve also been collecting data on you, assessing your methods.”

“I suspected as much,” Moralez replied. “You’re Ninnies, after all.”

“I’ve read your file,” Boyd continued, the Chief’s eyes tracking him warily as he sauntered along to examine a rose. “I know all about what happened to you on Kruger III, how you lost those limbs, your history with the Equatorials. The Bugs wiped out your whole platoon, save for you and a Borealan Shock Trooper, then your own squadmate assaulted you in an attempt to assert her dominance. She must have thought that she’d make a better pack leader, sounds like the integration training didn’t take too well with that one.”

Moralez let his arms fall to his sides, balling his fists as he felt that old tremor return, his hands shaking almost imperceptibly.

“On the way out of that maze of Bug-infested tunnels, a combination of close air support and some rather careless handling of grenades resulted in your injuries,” Boyd added. “I don’t know who you blame for that one.”

“What of it?” Moralez demanded. “I should be angry that you went behind my back, rather than asking me about my history directly, but being underhanded is part of your job...”

“What of it?” Boyd repeated, turning to face him and planting his hands in the pockets of his long coat. “There’s someone else who had the opportunity to plant that tracking device on Korbaz. Someone else with the motivation to sabotage the conference and to implicate an Equatorial.”

“You’re implying that ‘I’ could have had something to do with this?” Moralez demanded, his anger getting the better of him for a moment before he reigned it back in. “After everything that you’ve seen? Why the fuck would I put my own job, my own reputation on the line to satisfy old grudges?”

“You’d stop the Bugs from being admitted to the Coalition, and you’d sabotage relations with the Rask, which means a few less Mad Cats stalking your station. That might be worth the risk.”

“And how the hell did I shoot at the ambassador from inside the conference room?” Moralez scoffed.

“You might not have been working alone,” Boyd replied with a shrug, “you’re popular on the station. You said it yourself, most people here hate the Bugs with a passion. It wouldn’t be hard to find someone who would pull that trigger for you if it meant averting what some might see as a future genocide from within the Coalition itself. Maybe Lorza is right, and Edwards is telling the truth. Maybe you set him up, gave us just enough evidence to pin the crime on him. We still have no weapon, no motive, and only your assurances that his encounter with Korbaz went down the way you say.”

“Let me tell you what holding grudges gets you,” Moralez snarled as he pointed an accusing finger at the agent. He took a couple of steps closer, rage furrowing his brow, Lorza glancing between the two of them as though preparing to intervene. “When I came back from that planet, I was a wreck, and I’m not just talking about my missing limbs. I felt like my personality had been scrambled, I didn’t recognize myself anymore. I was angry, pessimistic, I felt guilt for being the only one to make it out. You can’t imagine what it’s like to wake up every day wondering why you’re still alive, why you alone were chosen to keep going on, sometimes finding yourself wishing that whatever cruel God might be responsible had made a better choice.”

Moralez took another step closer, Lorza moving in to place a hand on his chest, her sharp claws pricking him through the fabric of his uniform as she gently urged him back.

“Yeah, I hated the Borealans for what they did to me,” he snapped. “When the woman who I later fell in love with appeared at my bedside, the woman who would make me whole again, I turned her away. To this day, I still can’t believe how close I came to sabotaging myself, all because of my own prejudice. I told her that I wanted to see a human doctor, I judged her because of her species, not because of her character. She stuck with me, helped me through months of emotional and physical therapy, it’s because of her that I’m standing here now.”

Boyd watched with a neutral expression as the Chief continued his rant, Lorza keeping him from getting any closer to her partner.

“I know something about revenge, too,” he continued. “Here’s something that you won’t have read in your report. I found the Equatorial who assaulted me. She visited the station, and I let my rage rule me. I was seeing red, I was ready to commit a murder. I tracked her down, fought her in an alley, only pulled through thanks to my prosthetics. I had her bleeding on the ground, I could have killed her there and then. Do you know what I felt at that moment?”

Boyd didn’t reply, so Moralez answered the question for him.

“Nothing,” he said, “not a damned thing. There was no closure, no satisfaction, no relief. Once again, I put everything that I had in jeopardy. My job, my relationship, all at risk because of my own hatred. I know from first-hand experience how pointless revenge is, and the last time I judged someone for the actions of their species, I almost ruined my own life without even realizing it. So no, I don’t hate the Bugs from Jarilo because of what the other hives have done, and I don’t have any grudges to settle with the Borealans. You can cram your little theory right up your self-righteous ass.”

He had said his piece, and he calmed down somewhat, Lorza releasing him once she was sure that he wasn’t going to close the distance and punch through Boyd’s head like an out-of-date Halloween pumpkin. The thought had crossed his mind...

“What do you think, Lorza?” Boyd asked nonchalantly. “That enough of an emotional reaction for you to work your Polar magic?”

“He tells the truth, malish,” he replied tersely. “It would be hard to fake a reaction such as that...”

“Sorry for riding your ass so much, Chief, but you’re a hard nut to crack,” Boyd added with a satisfied grin. He reached up and removed his visor for the first time, revealing a pair of green eyes. “Had to rule you out, you understand. Gotta follow every lead, no matter how trivial or unlikely it might seem.”

“So that’s why you’ve been such an asshole?” Moralez asked, unable to stop himself from chuckling as he shook his head in disbelief. “You Ninnies sure play the long game, don’t you?”