After the raid on the power station, Harry went up the spine. What he did next would probably get him fired and on the next transport off the station faster than he could blink. But at this point he didn’t much care.
He found the living quarters of Minerva Sisko-Gomez and used his security override to open the door. That was enough of a protocol breach to warrant his immediate suspension at least, but subtlety was lost on these people. The servitor appeared almost immediately, doing it’s level best to appear perturbed while still exuding the proscribed politeness its programming required.
“What is the nature of this intrusion, Detective?”
“I need to see Ms. Minerva,” Harry said. “Now.”
“The lady of the house is otherwise indisposed at this—”
“I don’t care! Get that haughty bitch out here now. The future of her precious space station is at stake.”
The servitor shuddered, then turned and disappeared through an oval portal. Ms. Minerva Sisko-Gomez appeared a moment later, a quivering ball of seething contempt wrapped in a parsec of pink taffeta.
“What is the meaning of this, Detective?” she said, seething. Her face was pulled tight as a rack of animal hide, indicating she had just undergone a fresh de Gray treatment. Even with immortality at the push of a button they did their level best to prolong each iteration for as long as they could.
“Valhalla is in danger,” he said. “Or did you think that power outage was due to mechanical failure?”
She stared lasers at him, visibly outraged at being spoken to in this manner. It had obviously been centuries since someone spoke with her without genuflecting or ass-kissing. Harry suppressed the urge to smile.
“I know every well what is going on. We are not clueless as those below might think. But that’s what we pay you for, my dear detective. To handle such intrusions.”
“Oh we handled it all right. I had to kill a kid to handle it. But there will be more. The worst is yet to come. Unless you do something.”
Minerva Sisko-Gomez had the nerve to look affronted. “Me? What would you have me do?”
“These people work hard to keep this station running so that you can sit up here and have your endless parties and live forever. You could listen to them for once. Their demands are not that unreasonable.”
“The gall! You would side with labor? After what we’re paying for your contract? I’ll tell you what I will do, Detective. You will do your job or we will find another security contractor to restore and maintain order. And I will make a complaint about your behavior to your superiors. I’m sure they will not be pleased to learn that you have cost all of them their jobs.”
Harry sighed. He had prepared for this. “Getting out of a contract isn’t that quick or smooth a process. And you’ll lose Valhalla before you get anyone in here who can restore any kind of order. Their are factions down spine who are willing and able to destroy this entire station if they have to, just because you people refuse to listen.”
Minerva’s thin mouth stretched into a sneering grin. “They wouldn’t sacrifice themselves! They live aboard Valhalla too.”
“Oh, but they would,” said Harry. “They see it as a sacrifice for the greater good. There are other stations with the same problems. Under the same management. This would send a message to all of them about what could be done if things don’t change. I don’t have to tell you how bad for business that could be.”
Minerva scowled, making a show of huffing and puffing. She crossed her arms with a rustle of taffeta, then uncrossed them. “Oh! Very well. I’ll get with the others at once, and we’ll schedule a meeting with the various union reps.”
“That would be wonderful,” said Harry with a slight bow. The immortals didn’t give a shit about the people who actually made their endless lives possible, but they did care about their bottom line.
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
“What else? Any suspects in my granddaughter’s murder?”
“Actually, yes. I think so. I just need to apprehend him.”
“Am I to take it that this individual is the cause of all this drama?”
“You are,” said Harry. “And thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Oh piss off, Detective. Find your way out.”
With a swirl of fabric, Minerva Sisko-Gomez floated out of the room and was gone. Harry turned on his heels and left before the servitor could return to ceremoniously throw him out.
He rode down the spine in silence, sharing the car with a couple of bored-looking resurrection techs and some petty functionary or another, tapping at a giant slate while wearing a sour expression. Harry surmised he might have upended a lot of social and business calendars just now, but he wasn’t worried. Any complaint from up spine would merely be a red note in his file now that his efforts had saved over three thousand souls. He just hoped he had done it in time.
When the car finally emptied, Harry tugged out his slate. Finding Rigel Bennett was going to be much easier now that the guy had grown some balls. The power station ploy had been a failure, but he had to know it wasn’t going to last forever. It was merely a ploy to rouse the masses, get everyone talking, joining sides. Taking action. With any luck, Rigel Bennett had now replaced Honey Gomez as the most famous person on Valhalla.
Harry got off at the commerce ring, consulting his slate as he navigated through a small crowd of shoppers. Bennett was using a burner slate, but now that he was the talk of Valhalla, Harry could use other ways to track him, like the voyeur cams. People were following him around, and those people took still images and video and posted them to the station’s public feed, complete with timestamps.
“How are things, Mr. Bennett?”
Rigel Bennett spun around. He was in the midst of a gaggle of onlookers, most of whom scattered the second Harry flashed his badge. The person of interest had the temerity to look surprised.
“Relax. You’re not under arrest. Yet. At least not for starting this little revolution you’ve got going on. I’m here about Honey.”
He took a step back. They were standing in a service corridor near a junction point for a collection of conduit. “What about her?”
“You were with her the night she was murdered,” Harry said. “I’d just like to know what happened.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Rigel Bennett spun around and was gone, ducking between a mass of pipes. Harry grumbled to himself, giving chase. By the time he extricated himself from the maze of machinery his number one murder suspect was gone.
“Dammit!”
Fleeing a Cerberus employee was proof of guilt as far as Harry was concerned. They could sort out the details later. But he needed to find this guy before he planned any more acts of sabotage, or worse.
When Harry emerged back out in the entertainment level, all eyes were glued to the large screens that usually displayed advertisements. A well-coiffed feedcaster was sharing the news that the immortals were meeting with reps from all the myriad unions on Valhalla. Some people cheered. Others cried. But all looked relieved. Harry felt the atmospheric pressure weighing him down lift by a few bars. They just might get through this without killing each other after all.
His slate chimed. It was Sarge.
“Maddox is ready to make a deal, but says he won’t sign anything until he talks to you.”
“OK.”
“And don’t worry. He said that you weren’t involved in any of it.”
Harry sighed louder than he intended. “On my way.”
The tension release throughout the station was palpable, and by the time he reached headquarters Harry felt like he was walking in low g. He found Maddox in one of the interrogation rooms.
“Hiya, Harry,” he said amiably, as if they were two old friends meeting after work for a couple of beers. Harry sat down across the stainless steel table.
“What did you want to see me about?”
“I wanted to explain before they send me to the rock colony. I got ten years mining nickel-iron ahead of me.”
“So what was it?” Harry asked. “Protection?”
“Yeah. Running point for one of the mobs. I already told them who. Looks like I’m gonna have to watch my back on that asteroid. Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Harry nodded. “I’m just glad you didn’t include me. Say, why didn’t you, anyway?”
Maddox shrugged. “I was going to. But I took one look at you and knew you didn’t have the heart for it. You actually like being here. You’re not a cynical old fuck like me. I was just doing what I always do, trying to find the angle, get as much action as I could. I guess it finally caught up with me. Someone’s informant saw me get nasty, knew who I was, and thought they’d score some points. If I were in their shoes, I’d have done the same. It’s kill or be killed out here. No different than down a gravity well.”
“You are a cynical old fuck,” Harry said with a snort. He pushed back from the table and stood. “Keep your head on a swivel.”
“Will do. And Harry?”
Harry turned to regard his former partner. “Rigel Bennett our killer?”
Harry nodded. “I think so.”
Maddox rolled up his sleeve. On his right biceps was a faded tattoo of Honey’s face. “I was a bigger fan than I let on. Go get that son of a bitch.”