"We cannot bring in Norman without concrete proof. His absence will be noticed." Heusten increasingly felt that this entire chain of events was approaching scrutiny from the Protectorate. As much as he benefited from the Senator's favor, he was not keen on risking his job for the man. And if he did lose his job, he'd also immediately lose all his usefulness to his rich benefactor.
Greymus was unfazed. Over the months, his anger had transformed into a smoldering rage that burned through him every waking moment. "Yes. I recall his name; his sponsor was someone prominent, was he not?"
"Yes - Councilor Leptimus." A highly prominent war hero from the Protectorate. Even if he was retired now, Greymus didn't doubt that he held a lot of sway through the numerous prominent connections he had cultivated over the decades of his service. And if his protege were to suddenly find himself in the clutches of Protectorate, he would surely find out in a matter of minutes. If Leptimus were to raise hell, Greymus wasn't sure all his connections and resources would be enough to drive through an interrogation.
Yet, there was not a chance that Greymus would give this guy a free pass. Not when his son's death was involved. And if he did manage to ruin the career of Leptimus's favored student without getting implicated, it would only strengthen his image in the society. Strength respects strength. His face hardened.
"I'll set up a pretext. We'll find a way to question him discreetly."
Heusten sighed.
The next morning, Norman received a new message from Dr. Strauss, the historian he had been collaborating with. They had discovered some more esoteric Yaskh artifacts and were seeking Norman's help in uncovering their purpose. The collaboration would need to happen on the site of excavation in Sector 738.
This was an opportunity to be at the forefront of new developments and so Norman accepted. The only caveat was the wormholes through which the journey had to take place led through disputed territories and therefore an escort from the Protectorate would be needed to accompany Norman. The escort was none other than Heusten D'Gar.
Norman had been waiting near the SVoyLPad (space voyager landing/launch pad) for twenty minutes, when a dark rugged deep space voyager descended to the ground. Heusten found Norman intently reading on his tablet near the station.
He felt a bit sorry for what was about to happen to the young man. He had seen the official reports on Norman. He was considered to be an academic genius. Heusten had a hard time trying to reconcile the image of this young man with that of someone who had witnessed and tried to cover up a murder. If he had reported the incident straight to the Protectorate, he likely would have only been set back in his career. But now, a much darker fate awaited him.
"Norman Ferus?" He asked, and getting up, Norman just nodded. Celine took the liberty to jump straight into the spacecraft.
Heusten frowned, "Must the cat come?"
"Unfortunately, yes. She has some special needs. She can't stay away for me for long." Norman smiled, "She is fully vaccinated though, if that is your concern." His eyes never left the complex three dimensional model he had been exploring on his tablet.
"Fair enough, " Heusten didn't argue further.
After getting up, Norman found himself seated in a comfortable recliner. Heusten made a casual attempt at small-talk, "First time on a deep space voyage?"
Norman shrugged, "No, I was born in Micrian colony."
Heusten had read that in his file before, but was still curious about the many details that the reports didn't cover. "So how does a student from far-flung Micria end up in the Illustrious Academy?" Norman was not officially a suspect in any case, so a lot of his past background was redacted in the files Heusten had received.
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Norman continued to tap through the parameters in the model he was exploring. "I got lucky. Won the FGO solo. That earned some attention, including my sponsor, Mr. Leptimus. Who offered to cover my tuition here."
Heusten would not have been able to put this in more modest terms, no matter how hard he tried. The competition, the Fredritch Ganthar Olympiad, that Norman had won was something typically reserved for professionals who had gone through at least four years of specialized training. And they, too, usually participated in groups. Norman would have been one of the fewest solo participants to have won the tournament in all of its existence. No wonder Leptimus was impressed. Heusten still could not fully comprehend what havoc awaited when he discovered Norman missing.
Shifting focus, Norman activated a navigation utility on his tablet and glanced through the route they were taking. The engine had started now, and the station was long behind them. Noticing the live map, Heusten arched his eyebrow. "You can sit back and relax, Mr. Norman. We have done this many times. You have no reason to worry."
"No you haven't." Norman's reply was calm and blunt as he dismissed the map and went back to his model.
"I am sorry?" That was the first time Heusten realized that something may have gone awry with his plan.
"This is your first trip as an escort to this sector. You are rank 10 in the Protectorate. This kind of escort duty is way beneath you. And even when you were rising through the ranks, because of your specialized skills you never served as an escort for deep space operations."
"Interesting. You seem to have looked into my background. That's surprising. Most travelers barely pay any attention to their escorts." Heusten tried to salvage the situation. He really didn't want to have to subdue and restrain the kid.
"Well, Greymus has a formidable reputation. One has to be careful; nobody would know that better than you, Mr. Heusten?"
Heusten felt tiny beads of perspiration formed inconspicuously on his forehead, betraying his inner turmoil.
"What do you wish to achieve here, Mr. Norman." He decided to set aside the pretense.
"In another five minutes, we will emerge from Wormhole Iradius IV. You will divert from there because of a fuel blockage issue in this craft and then reroute to the world of Minhauthus, which just happens to be in Sector 23, where the wormhole leads."
"You and I both know I can't really do that Mr. Norman." No easy way to avoid conflict now. Heusten steeled himself for what was to come.
"Of course, you can." Norman's voice remained unruffled and untroubled, conveying an air of calm indifference, "We are on a Protectorate vessel. You are a Protectorate commander with enough authority to reroute course. All you have to do is command."
Heusten wondered if the lights had been gradually growing dimmer over the last few minutes. And where the hell had that cat gone?
"It will be easier for you to come willingly." He asserted.
"And if I don't?" Norman met his gaze for the first time. That was not the kind of frosty glare that Heusten would have expected from a young academic.
"Then I would have to force you." Heusten said with gritted teeth.
"I wonder how that would happen." Norman smiled. There was nothing pleasant in that expression.
Heusten felt his throat tighten. His eyes were getting hazier. He could barely see a few feet away.
He tried to move his hands, but realized that he couldn't.
After a beep, the driver spoke through the comms, "Sir, Something is wrong. I can't move."
Heusten's heart began to race, each beat thundering in his chest. His stomach twisted in knots, and he could not shake the feeling that he may not be getting out of this vessel alive.
Norman gestured to his tablet, and the projection of the model he had been tinkering with grew three-fold in size.
"Do you know what this composition is, Mr. Heusten?It is Norvis IV - something used for Ramsecton treatment." Heusten felt like he was going to have a heart attack. Ramsecton was the deficiency his brother was suffering from.
As Norman gestured again, the device showed Norvis IV combining with another medicine.
"While Ramsecton is very hard to cure, it is unfortunately incredibly easy to convert Norvis IV into something that is poisonous. And the interesting thing is that this can be done entirely using substances that would be very commonly found in a hospital like Martin Yeustor's." As we waved his fingers, the compound transformed into another. He next pulled up the risk assessment analysis. The worlds "FATAL" in bright red appeared overlaid over the image.
"If we land on Minhauthus, you may be able to reach Ramsen-III in a seven hour journey." Ramsen-III was the planet where Martin Yeustor Krankenhaus was located - where his brother Mortem was currently admitted.
"And what a coincidence, the time beyond which this particular poison damages the body beyond the point of no return is..." he tapped through on his tablet again, "... nine hours. Quite adequate if you make haste, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Heusten?"
Heusten gulped, his face ashen.
Norman tapped through his tablet again, and the tablet projected three documents side by side. A receipt for a ship ride from Illustrious torus to Ramsen-III. A visitor's entry confirmation for Yeustor Krakenhaus. And a receipt for the ship ride back. All electronically verified. All mentioning Norman's name.
As he glanced at each document, Heusten felt his growing trepidation gnawing at him. Eventually, he spoke on the comm, "Wilson, prepare for emergency landing on Minhauthus."
He would later find that there was nothing wrong with his brother at all. Norman did visit that world, but his reasons were entirely different. He never even met Mortem, let alone poison him.