Questors almost always came in pairs. This time was no exception. The man was tall, slender, bald, stern-looking, and with a limp in his right leg. The woman was grace personified; long dark hair, a flowing dress that looked nothing like a uniform but rather like something out of a romantic holofilm, with glittering blue eyes and a smile on her lips.
It was she who spoke first as the two entered the room, holding out a hand.
“Enora Greff, prime questor. This is my colleague, Ansar Lath. Apologies for my appearance, senator. I heard of the bombing and had to come immediately. No time to change.”
Zax stood and shook the offered hand.
“That is quite alright.”
“Please, please, sit. I hear you’ve been quite shaken. I’m sure you could use the rest.”
He could tell she was studying him from head to toe, but chose not to worry about it. As he sat, he saw the man scowling at his boss. Unlike her, he wore the traditional black outfit with the Imperial wreath embroidered on the sleeve.
The woman grabbed two chairs, offered one to her colleague, and sat in the other. She leaned forward, resting her shoulders on her knees.
“So. How about you tell us your side of the story?”
“My side?”
She smiled pleasantly. “Tell us what happened in your own words.”
“I could hardly tell it in anyone else’s. That said, there is not much to say. I came back from a walk—”
“Where did you go?”
Zax quirked a brow. “A nearby park.”
“And you walked?”
“That is what I said.”
“Indeed it is, indeed it is. Very unusual.”
“Is it illegal now to walk?”
“No, no, of course not. Apologies for the interruption. Please do go on.”
Zax leaned back in his chair, his eyes going from the man to the woman, thinking fast as he spoke.
“I went up to my room, then realized I’d forgotten I needed to speak with someone at the reception. So I went back to the elevator. The bomb went off as the doors closed on me. Which is what saved me.”
“I see.” The woman leaned back, tapping a finger against her lips. “Interesting story. Don’t you think, Ansar?” She glanced at the other questor who said nothing, still staring at Zax. “Yes, yes, that’s what I was thinking too.” She looked back at him. “Just to clarify, you did go into your room, did you not?”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
If he denied going in and they could verify that his door was opened before the explosion, they would catch him in a lie. Saying the truth was risky as well, so he decided to go for a compromise.
“I opened the door but did not go in.”
“Ah. Interesting.” She looked at her wristpad and tapped on the screen.
“Were there other victims?” Zax asked before she could question him again.
“Yes.”
He was surprised to hear the man’s voice answer him.
“How many?”
Ansar shrugged. “Twenty-three.”
Zax clenched his fists. “Why so many?”
“Three of the four rooms were occupied at the time of the explosion,” said Enora distractedly. “Including yours, of course. One was booked by a Gnorlian emissary accompanied by his retinue. The other by a billionaire from Daffrey. Both had guards and servants.”
“Any survivors?”
“No,” said Ansar.
The woman looked back at Zax, her smile widening. “I did not realize you were the one asking questions here, senator.”
“I have a right to know these things,” he said.
“Of course, of course.”
“I am sure both of them had enemies.”
The woman quirked a brow. “And you do not?”
He let out a bark of laughter. “I am a politician, prime. Of course, I have enemies! But,” he added seriously, “none who would fall so low as to try to kill me.”
“And yet,” she said, “the device was placed on your door. You triggered the explosive when you opened it.”
The room went silent for a second.
Zax kept his eyes locked with the woman’s, unflinching.
“I had no security,” he finally said. “I imagine it would have been easier for the culprit to place his bomb in my quarters. This also explains its wide range, as he would have wanted to make sure his target died.”
“Brilliant twist! I love it. Though you forget, the fourth room was unoccupied. But no matter.” She smiled. Looked back to her wristpad. “You’re an intriguing man, senator Iden. Very intriguing indeed. I know your father died a long time ago, but no one seems to know where your mother is?”
“Dead as well, I’m afraid. From Tinamint disease, a decade ago.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” A pause. “This was before you went into politics?”
“Depends how you look at it, or how you define politics. I was involved in various unions and marches from an early age...”
“But your rise to a government seat came after her passing?”
He nodded. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. Do you have any siblings?”
This was not mere curiosity. Zax knew exactly where the questor was going with this. But it didn’t matter.
“A brother, though we haven’t spoken in years. Last I heard, he was somewhere out in the rim. Up to no good, I’m sure.”
Enora chuckled. “Lovely.” She looked at her companion. “And quite convenient, too, don’t you think?”
The other questor snorted but said nothing.
Zax frowned. “What is this, prime?”
“Just doing my job.”
“No. I don’t think so. You are playing games. I would know. Politics are filled with people like you who like to play games. I am tired of this one. I am a victim here and we both know it. So stop treating me like I am a suspect. Do you really think I would have tried to blow myself up?”
The smile froze on the woman’s lips. It remained for a moment, then slowly faded as Enora’s eyes hardened.
“I do not like you, senator. You may be a victim, but you are also a liar. That, too, we both know.” She pointed at his clothes. “Something is off here. Very off. You have no wounds, and yet your jacket is in shreds. How do you explain that? How did you reach the elevator before the explosive went off? And what did you so urgently need to discuss with a reception clerk?”
It was Zax’s turn to smile.
“Since we both agree I am a victim, I am not required to answer those questions. Your time is up, prime. Perhaps you should focus on finding the bomber rather than waste both our time. A good day to you.”
He stood and walked out of the room, fuming.