Ariadne Page 8

  “It’s simple,” I explain. “Like Xev said… the tek responsible for creating this body-blank comes from the war. Illegal then, and illegal now. Used by covert agents to gain entry to enemy bases, ships and compounds.”

  I straighten up, annoyed to find that I’m still shorter than my old boss.

  “All they need is a basic DNA profile of the victim,” I continue, “with a physical and facial match, usually someone of similar build and sex, and the nanite tek mimics them. A passing likeness enough to fool most people not paying that much attention. Their victims were usually killed and dumped. And if hiding the body wasn’t feasible, the tek could blank them, making ID impossible, gaining the agent valuable time. Which is what I believe has happened here. The technique was never used for deep cover though. Usually for an ‘in and out’ attack or recon mission. And with nanites, there’s always complications. An extreme measure taken by someone desperate, or on a suicide mission. But the war was many years ago. The tek may have progressed in that time.”

  Drex runs a hand through his thick, greasy hair. “You mean there really is an imposter aboard?”

  I feel Xev’s eyes boring into me. “Yeah,” I reply.

  “And it could be one of us?” Velez asks, staring around the room, her neck twitching almost continuously.

  Pirella can’t seem to take her wide eyes off the body-blank. “But who would do that and why?” She’s shares another glance with Velez, as if she’s expecting the chef to know the answer. “It’s disgusting.”

  Even with her face all puffy and her blond curls sweaty and matted, Pirella is pretty. The kind of beauty her ambassador father no doubt paid for. It’s a professional job only noticeable if you know what you’re looking for. Her skin has a slight plastic quality. Her face doll-like. Pirella is augmented but, unlike Rooba, Pirella would be difficult to copy. Some of the girl’s augmentations may not be DNA-based. Making it hard for the replacement tek to replicate her as she is today—but the tek could’ve been honed many times since the war. I decide to keep Pirella on my suspect list… with everyone else.

  “I’m not sure,” I reply. “As for motive? I’ll tell you that when I find out who they are.”

  Drex speaks up. “But we’re still heading for rival space. And whoever it is will die with the rest of us when we get there…”

  I see the cogs slowly turning in Drex’s mind, as he makes the obvious conclusion.

  “…Unless they are responsible for jumping Ariadne in the first place,” he says.

  “That’s right, soldier,” I reply, pleased that Drex is coming around to my way of thinking. “It may be possible the imposter died with the rest of the crew, but I doubt that very much. I need to identify the phony and identify them fast, because when I do, I’ll be in a better position to understand what’s going on here. And maybe, just maybe, we can get ourselves out of this situation.” I let the words hang for a few seconds.

  Xev takes his dazed attention away from the body. “Situation? What the hell are you all talking about?”

  “The ship is heading for enemy space,” Velez replies, her voice stressed into a high-pitched whine.

  “Shit! I take it the Company ain’t gonna let that happen, huh?” Xev replies, his booze-addled mind still agile enough to put two and two together.

  “But you can stop that, can’t you?” Pirella asks me, her head bobbing on a slender neck. “You can get us out of this?”

  Xev takes a swig from a hip flask and grimaces. “How long do we have?”

  I glance at my wafer.

  22:37

  “Just under an hour and a half.”

  “Well ain’t that the fucking biscuit!” Xev says. “I knew this party was going to be a bust.”

  “If you ain’t got anything positive to add, shut your mouth!”

  “Maybe I do know something,” Xev says, the skin of his ruined face stretching oddly. “I’m not sure where this fits into the general sense of what the fuck is going on, but when I was on my way back here, I’m pretty sure I saw someone lurking in one of the side corridors. I called after them, but they melted into the shadows. Scared the bejesus out of me, if I’m honest. I didn’t see a face. But it was a guy, I’m sure of it. Thickset, short, with silvery hair. I thought it might be Chandrasekhar, but it was just a glimpse.”

  “The professor?” I bring up a digivid of Chandrasekhar on my wafer. “It can’t be him. He favours Indian ancestry. Is thin and bald.”

  I show the digivid to Xev who shakes his head. I then perform a filter search and get no matches. “There’s also no one aboard matching that description. Whoever you saw, they’re not on the ship’s roster. Unless you were mistaken.”

  Xev raises his hands, placing one on his chest. “That’s what I saw. Hand on heart.”

  “Where was this?”

  “Not far away. I was toddling back from one of the cabins. Terrible stink of burnt meat. Made me want to chuck.”

  “Where we found the fried bio-systems,” Hewlis says, narrowing his eyes at Klund.

  I let my hand fall onto the stub of my holstered buzz-gun. “Either Xev was seeing things, or there’s an extra person aboard who shouldn’t be.”

  “Hey! I may be one or two sheets to the wind, but I know what I saw.”

  Xev Tranth is a wreck of his former self, but the man was always the straight-as-a-die type, unless he had a reason to lie.

  “If there’s a stowaway aboard,” Klund says, his voice whining, “I think we should go find them at once.”

  His words are followed by murmurs of agreement.

  I raise my hand. “What you think we should or shouldn’t do is irrelevant. I’m in charge, remember?” I turn my attention back to Drex. “You. Did you complete the roster as ordered?”

  Drex shakes his head. “There’s no way we could check cabins and other parts of the ship that are off-limits. We started at the bottom deck and were making our way up when we stumbled onto this.” He motions towards the mound of blubbery flesh on the floor. “We brought it here and gave up on the body count.”

  I’m annoyed with Drex and let it show. I expected him to do as he was ordered, but the kid likes to buck authority. I turn to face everyone. “An imposter is either at large somewhere else in the ship or right here in this room with us. My gut is telling me it’s one of you. You might as well reveal yourself now, because I’m gonna winkle you out one way or another…”

  Xev claps his hands in a show of delighted applause, whilst Eric Klund, who has been sitting next to Pirella, jumps to his feet, obviously annoyed. “What makes you so frigging sure he is one of us?” he bleats like a chastised child.

  “He? I repeat,” rounding on him. “You know his gender?”

  “Don’t play word games,” Klund says, his voice an annoyed screech. “I meant he, she…” He gives Rooba an apologetic look. “… Or it.”

  I ignore the geek. “Did you or Boyd see anything out of the ordinary while you were searching the ship?”

  Drex shakes his head. “Not as such, but…”

  “But what?”

  Drex looks at Boyd for support. “I dunno… I kinda felt like we were being watched.”

  Boyd nods his head. Whatever grief he may have been feeling the last time we met, seems to have been buttoned down. “Yeah, down on the deck where that thing was hidden. I sensed it too. And I thought I heard breathing. Heavy, rasping breath.”

  “If you were being watched, why didn’t you mention it before?”

  “We couldn’t be sure,” Boyd replies. “We didn’t actually lay eyes on anybody.”

  I wonder if Boyd and Drex, and maybe Xev, are suffering from the telepathic barrage coming from Ariadne’s mind. I’m not human, I don’t know how resistant they are to her, but my bet is that it’s making everyone a little paranoid. “Forget it,” I say. “Do you have anything else to report?”

  The low-rankers look at one another.

  “Out with it!”

  “The door to Hydroponics,” Drex
begins.

  “Go on.”

  “It was broken.”

  Boyd nods at his side.

  There’s one thing about Company ship design, and it’s no different, even on an advanced ship like the Ariadne—hatches. They are sturdy, each built to resist depressurisation and any number of other shipboard emergencies. What Drex is saying doesn’t make sense. “What do you mean broken?”

  “Like something was trapped inside and broke its way out.”

  I don’t like the sound of that,” Hewlis says, his eyes darting to the entrance and beyond.

  “Don’t make assumptions!” I bark at Drex. “Was there any evidence of an explosion?”

  The two kids glance at each other again. This time, it’s Boyd who speaks, his head shaking. “The door was bent outwards, like it had been hit with a battering ram.”

  “Are you deaf? No more goddamn assumptions! Okay?”

  The kid flinches at my words, but nods.

  “Where’s Hydroponics?”

  “Bottom deck.”

  I bring up Ariadne’s schematics on my wafer. Hydroponics stretches the full length and width of the ship. Too large for a small vessel like this one—maybe it has another function? It will have to wait. “I’m gonna take a look where Drex and Boyd found the body blank,” I say, making a quick decision. “Hopefully, they missed something. Then I’ll examine the door to Hydroponics.”

  “And what about the rest of us?” Klund says.

  “You’re coming with me,” I reply, finishing the remains of my makeshift sandwich. “All of you. No one is leaving my sight until this is over and done with. Oh… I almost forgot. There’s one more thing that I need to deal with.” I pull my buzz-gun and point it at Boyd and Drex. “Give me your weapons…”

  “WHAT THE hell!” Drex shouts.

  “That’s a direct order, soldier!” I bark at him. “There’s no way I’m letting a possible imposter run around this ship with a loaded rifle. You get me?”

  “But what if you’re the imposter?” Drex replies weakly, looking around for support.

  “And how do you figure that?” Hewlis says. “You were there when Vatic arrived. You left him in the airlock to die, remember? He’s the only guy on this death-ship we can trust… or are you too stupid to realise that? Do as Vatic says and give him your guns.”

  Drex baulks at the engineer’s words, but Boyd doesn’t need any more encouragement. He passes his rifle to me.

  I turn to Drex. “Your turn, soldier, or you end here.”

  “You really think it could be me?” Drex says. “Boyd knows me better than anyone. Isn’t that right?”

  “Give it up, Drex,” Boyd replies. “Hewlis is bang on the money, there’s no way Vatic is the replacement. We gotta trust him.”

  Drex sags. Hewlis steps forward and grabs the gun off Drex. The kid lets him take it, but he ain’t happy.

  I remove the charges from both guns and stamp on them, the units smashing.

  “Well that’s just great!” Drex says. “What if we needed those later?”

  I ignore him and turn to the rest of the survivors. “We’re gonna pair up to keep a close eye on one another. Hewlis, you’re with Klund.” I turn to the Jen. “You go with Pirella. Which leaves Velez and Xev Tranth. Drex and Boyd can lead the way.”

  Boyd is the first to move, pulling Drex with him. He glances at the body-blank. “You sure it’s okay to leave that behind?”

  “It’s dead,” Xev announces. “The poor fucker ain’t going nowhere, whoever it was.”

  “Get moving,” I say. “And keep your partners in sight at all times.”

  We leave Hospitality and head for the centre of the ship.

  Suddenly, Xev is at my side. “Are you ignoring your old boss?”

  I resist the urge to punch him in the guts, although I decide to keep this as a real possibility if he irritates me any further. But he’s right. If I’m gonna do this properly, I’m gonna have to talk to the bastard. I make a show of looking at my wafer and bringing up his details.

  Xev Tranth.

  Age: 63.

  Junior Diplomatic Aide.

  I let a smile twist my lips. Hewlis told me Xev was a low-level politico, which I found hard to swallow, but the engineer was right. The man has been demoted to a junior.

  “Is it all there?” Xev asks. “The fall from grace of Xev fucking Tranth in goddamn Company black and white?”

  The information on Xev is patchy at best. “What happened?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Just answer the goddamn question.”

  Xev takes a long breath and shakes his head. “You, more than most, understand what the Company is like, factions constantly vying with each other for power and influence? During the war, those factions were forgotten, and we all pulled together. Afterwards and victorious, those same factions emerged again to take part in a grab for power. Unfortunately, I chose the wrong side.”

  “Ouch.”

  “It wasn’t like me to lick the wrong ass-hole, but the war had me all fired up. My big play to get on the new Executive fell flat on its arse. I was lucky to escape with my life.”

  “You were always a survivor.”

  “You and me both. I was reconciled to finding myself on the wrong end of a buzz-gun, like most of the other ‘conspirators’, as we were called. Surviving was one of the most unpleasant experiences of my life, but here I am.”

  “What’s a junior diplomatic aide doing attending a VIP party on a ship like this?”

  Xev takes a hefty swig from his hip flask. “Ever since my fall from grace, I’ve been working on my glorious return. I stumbled onto the Ariadne project accidentally. My plan was to get myself aboard and suck up to Professor Chandrasekhar. I did my research on that fucking bastard and then some. I’ve known about him since the war. He’s a genius amongst many other talents, but geniuses often have flaws. The professor is fiercely narcissistic and loves nothing more than to be told how wonderful his work is. My intention was to play on this vanity and wheedle myself into this or his next project.”

  “How is that going?” I ask with a malicious tone.

  Another sigh let out through his lips in a long hiss. “I don’t have the luck I used to have. I made one goddamn mistake, and only just escaped with my life. And here I am forced to come begging cap in hand to some narcissistic twat. Look at the fucking mess that turned into.” He raises the flask to his lips. “Cheers!”

  I snatch it away before he can take a swig.

  “Hey!” he complains.

  The flask is nearly full. I sniff the contents. Brandy and expensive at that. As far as I remember, Xev always had expensive tastes. Judging by the look of him, he has downed more than a sip or two. “You’re drunk. How come this ain’t empty?” I ask.

  He throws a lazy finger at the brandy. “That’s what I was doing before I returned to Hospitality. Refilling my flask. If we’re all gonna die on this fucking death ship, I thought things would go better with a little drinkie or two.”

  “Where did you get it?”

  “I pilfered it from one of the cabins,” he says conspiratorially.

  We pass a group of bodies lying on the floor and his eyes linger on them with a bleakness that surprises me. Xev was never one to baulk at death. If anything, he revelled in it. Maybe his fall from power, his botched juvo-treatment, and his resultant alcoholism has mellowed the guy? “So how come you’re not also lying on the floor with the recently deceased?” I ask him.

  He shrugs drunkenly, while sticking out his bottom jaw, the skin of his face stretching peculiarly. “I dunno. I was mingling with one of the consorts when it started coughing and fell over, gasping for breath—the large orange one—I like them with a bit of weight on their bones, if you remember?”

  “Just tell me how you survived,” I demand.

  Xev smiles. “It’s sure good to see you again.”

  “This ain’t a class reunion,” I bark. “I’m working. Tell me!”

 
He nods, the smile staying in place. “There was a strange smell in the air that burned my throat, like shorting electronics or ozone mixed in with shit. I noticed everyone coughing and gasping and other guests collapsing. I covered my mouth and nose with a serviette and splashed it with brandy from my flask.”

  Xev’s story ain’t particularly believable, but then again, it’s similar to all the other stories I’ve been told so far, and they can’t all be lying. I put the flask to my lips and take a swig. The brandy is a fine blend. It falls into my stomach with a pleasant warmth. Personally, I prefer whisky—a buzz-gun to the gut rather than a stroke of a feather. I let the spirit sit there, allowing it to seep slowly into my system. “Nice,” I say. “But brandy ain’t my style. You tell me you researched the professor… what did you find out about him?”

  Xev’s eyes narrow. “Don’t you have it all in that wafer of yours?”

  “There’s not much to go on. Some big cheese with too much power and no moral sense. Sounds like a regular Company bastard.”

  “Oh, this is just too damn delightful,” Xev says, chuckling to himself. “But then again you Skilled were never interested in where you came from, were you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Xev pulls himself up to his full height and beams down at me. Upon the loose skin of his face, the expression is nightmarish. “Chandrasekhar is your family. Well as near to blood that you damn mixed-breeds can get.”

  I take in the words with little emotion. The Skilled were another Company experiment. One that was originally banned. The closest I ever came to kin was sharing a ghetto with all the other genetic rejects back in Internment. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean… he’s your father. Or at least one of them. Not literally, of course, but he was part of the team that singled out the empathy gene and the few other traits that they illegally crammed you with.”

  “You’re right, I’ve never been concerned with where I came from,” I say. And it’s true. I’m alive and a Skilled—that’s enough to contend with. “You think I don’t know that my breed was manufactured?” I tell him. “Born out of a Company experiment? That’s nothing new to me. So Chandrasekhar created the Skilled,” I reply. “I suppose that makes sense when you see what he was trying to do with this ship.”