The Seeds of Time (49 page)

Clio started to fling some remark back at him. Found that her lips parted only slightly and no words.

She sat for a moment, fuming, then sprang up and went to the nearest vid, threw in a game disk, Dormitory Raid, and concentrated on racking up hits. Just as she approached the record score, a Klaxon screamed to life, toning out a general alarm. Clio pushed the chair back, jammed into the corridor where the thudding of crew racing for stations joined the din of the Klaxons. She turned to run for the bridge, her emergency station, and ran flat into Jared Licht, blocking her way.

“Get out of my damn way.”

Alarm subsided, but no all-clear, and Licht was still standing there.

“Allow me to be the first to ask, Miss Finn, how you’ve been getting along with Jackson Tandy lately.” He grasped her upper arm. It hurt.

“None of your business.”

“Soon will be. There’s been a murder on board.”

Clio’s heart threw in an extra beat. “Murder? Who?”

He smiled. “Hoping it’s not someone you’re feuding with? So do I, Clio. Could tend to make you look bad.”

“You’re not saying Tandy’s been murdered?”

“No, not Tandy. His aide, Ryerson. But likely an attempt on the colonel’s life, and foiled by Lieutenant Ryerson.” He watched her face, enjoying the expressions that must have flitted over it. “So where’ve you been, last six hours, Finn?”

Licht gazed over her shoulder, face brightening.

She turned around: Ashe was just moving out of the crew lounge.

“Well,” Licht said, “that could be a convenient alibi, if you two were keeping each other warm during last sleep period. That right, Ashe?”

Ashe shrugged. “You want information on my sex life, Licht, you’ll have to use your usual means. Peepholes, isn’t it?”

“That’s one of my
means
, Ashe. Others involve two parties, Q and A, back and forth. An interactive means.” Licht turned back to Clio. “I love people who give me a run for my money. Most people are so timid around me.”

Clio yanked her arm away. Backed off from him. “I’m due on bridge, though I would love to chat.” She bolted down the corridor. Hit the ladder running, slid down to the mid-decks holding the outer poles of the ladder, and scrambled up to the bridge, just in time to see two army grunts waiting for her to emerge from the hatch so they could descend, chair-carrying a sheeted body, and here and there spatters of blood. No mistake.

Clio emerged onto the bridge where the other flight officers, except Hocking, were already at stations.

Singh looked up at her, very serious he was. Voris in pilot’s chair, looking pumped up enough to peddle a couple times around Niang.

Clio sat, waiting for Voris to launch into it.

“You don’t want to look down the corridor,” Voris said. Then, silently formed with her mouth, the word
blood
, and shivered. “Somebody got to him with a knife.” She drew her hand across her throat. “Must have been somebody he knew, because no way to sneak up on anybody in that corridor, and Ryerson was on guard outside Tandy’s quarters, that’s what I figure.” She looked at Clio, her eyes glistening and dark. “He had
three
children. Can you imagine how his wife is going to feel, and now she won’t even get to bury him. Haven’t you noticed at funerals, when there isn’t a body—say somebody’s lost on a mission—and then planetside you attend the funeral? How sad that is?”

“Yeah, I noticed that. Have they got any suspects?”

“I don’t know. Hocking’s down there with security, and Jared’s involved in the investigation. I was on duty.”

“Who found him?”

“Colonel Tandy.” Voris fished in her pocket, pulled out the remains of a package of Turns, peeled back the wrapper, and popped one in her mouth. As she sucked on the mint she patted her stomach. “It just makes me sick to think of it.” She leaned in toward Clio. “And what’s worse, we’ve got a murderer on board this ship. Somebody we know, very likely somebody we know, Clio.” Her eyes, big as a child’s at a horror movie.

“Yeah. Maybe
you
, Voris.”

“Clio! Don’t say things like that. We can’t start distrusting each other.”

“We can’t? Somebody just got their throat cut. Not in an army brawl, but in a lonely corridor during third sleep period. And maybe could have been two murders, if Ryerson wasn’t the target. So me, I’m going to watch my backside.”

“You mean they were after the colonel?”

“If Ryerson was standing guard at his door, what do you think?”

Voris peeled off another Turns. “How do you think of these things, Clio?”

“How do you not think of them?”

“I just don’t automatically think the worst of people.”

“Yeah. Give our murderer the benefit of the doubt. Just a lonely son of a bitch roaming the corridors looking for somebody to knife. Jesus, Voris.”

“You shouldn’t say ‘Jesus.’ ”

“Are you sure you weren’t hit by a truck when you were little?”

“You can be mean, Clio.”

“Just think me of as an addled Dive pilot who had a few too many trips, one too many starships blow up with her aboard, few too many little blue tabs.” The sight of Voris’ incredulous face inspired her to add: “Forced into indentured service aboard the
Galactique
, with brother as hostage should she jump for freedom.”

Voris broke the gaze between them. “You’ll never forgive, will you, Clio?”

“I can forgive. But the bastards keep doing it. You’re not asking for forgiveness, you’re asking for galactic stupidity.” Voris started to say something, but Clio grabbed her sleeve, forcing her to look at her. “You want to believe the world is a nice place where evil is a little weed that can be kept in check. Open your eyes, kid. Space Recon is corrupt down to its toes, and DSDE is the twenty-first century’s Third Reich. You refuse to see this shit, then you’re helping keep it alive, and your goody-two-shoes act is as full of crap as I am.” Clio pushed Voris away and remembered to breathe. Shit. Really out of control, girl. She shut her eyes, trying to push back the surge in her belly.

“Turzilla to bridge, over.” On headphones.

“Go ahead.” From Singh.

“Crew decks in order and at stations, sir.” The deck officers were reporting status.

“You will stand by.”

“Yessir, acknowledge.”

Voris stared ahead, sucking on her mint. “You don’t think much of me,” she said, off mike.

Then, on mike: “Lee reporting.” The science officer confirming status on science deck. “All present and accounted for, commander.”

“Acknowledged. Stand by, Lieutenant.”

Voris’ face darkened by the moment.

Clio took some pity on those big brown eyes. “Look, Voris. You got a soft spot: this religion of yours. It’s a target on a ship full of bored, jittery crew. You chose it. If it’s so goddamn important to be liked and fit in, find a football team to go nuts over. Easier for crew to understand and easier to take the knocks. Otherwise, toughen up and get on with things.” Clio looked at her unmoving face. “You get what I’m saying?” Trying to say it nice.

Hocking was standing there, hadn’t seen him.

“Finn. You’re wanted in officers’ mess.”

Clio swung her chair to face him. Hocking’s nose was loaded up with sweat, glistening like a frozen waterfall.

“Yessir.” She followed him down corridor to the mess. Just beyond, army forensics scavenging for clues around Tandy’s cabin door.

In the officers’ mess Tandy and Licht broke off what they were saying as she and Hocking walked in. Tandy was seated at a table in the center of the cabin. To one side, a couch with table and magazines. Behind him, the mess counters and a large refrigeration hatch. He nodded curtly, and gestured her to sit opposite him and the captain, who now took his place next to Tandy. Behind him was Jared Licht, leaning against the mess counter, arms scissored together in front of him. Jesus. Looked like it was an investigation for sure, and guess they were starting with her.

“So where were you last few hours, Finn?” Licht asked without preamble. As he leaned forward to hurl his question, Clio could see that a band of sweat limned his brow, making his face unnaturally bright under the close mess lights.

Hocking shifted in his seat, interrupting. “No one’s accusing you, Finn, you understand that? We’re only trying to gather as much information as we can.” Licht settled back against the counter, in a pose hardly less threatening for
being relaxed. Hocking continued, “You know the gist of what happened?”

“Lieutenant Voris told me that Lieutenant Ryerson was murdered, sir.”

The captain scowled. “Yes, a knife to his throat. That much every crew member on this ship has heard by now. Anything else you know that sheds light on the murder?”

“Nosir.”

“Anyone you know with a grudge against Lieutenant Ryerson or Colonel Tandy?”

Timothy Ashe briefly flitted into her mind.
Definitely doesn’t like Tandy, but murder?
“Nosir,” she said.

Hocking drummed his fingers on the table, still scowling. He looked over at Tandy, who had been inspecting his coffee cup, and now swirled the last of it, watching the contents.

Licht asked, as easily as a warm knife through butter, “You’ve got no love of army. They came after the
Starhawk
, came after you and your crewmates in the Amazon. That right?”

For a split second Clio considered denying it, denying everything. Then heard herself saying, “Maybe.” Had nothing to hide. Maybe try honesty for a change.

Licht cocked his head. “Care to elaborate?”

“All you bastards are in on this. Think I’d pick you off one by one? If I was going to do
that
, I’d have started with you, Licht.”

“Now see here,” Hocking said.

“Yes, start with me, baby,” Licht said. A crumpled smile inhabited his face.

“See here,” Hocking repeated, louder. “Let me ask you directly, Finn. Did you kill Lieutenant Ryerson?”

“Nosir.”

“Or know of anyone who did?”

“Nosir.”

“Can you account for your whereabouts last sleep period?”

Jesus.
Was
she a suspect? “Class-E science vessel,
Galactique
. Sir.”

Tandy’s eyes flicked up. Scolding her.

She added, “My quarters, reading magazines, then crew lounge for a couple hours. With Timothy Ashe, ship botanist, for part of the time.”

“Not a very convincing alibi if you two are … sweethearts, or whatever,” Licht said.

The captain dabbed at the bridge of his nose with a handkerchief, where instantly sweat reappeared. He was powerless over DSDE. Perhaps not technically, since he was ship’s captain, but looking to his long-range interests, Wendall Hocking would not be one to offend DSDE.

Licht threw in, “What about your retard brother? He’s got an unfortunate tendency to shoot people in the face when he gets mad, doesn’t he? Or was that you, Clio, killed that agent, back on Mama’s farm?”

He watched her, unblinking, unmoving. Neither of them breathed. Finally a twitch appeared on Clio’s face instead of the smile that she had planned. “Keep your claws out of my brother, Licht,” she said. “Wanna know who I think killed Lieutenant Ryerson out in that corridor? Probably was you, Licht. Only so many times you can read the Uniform Drug and Social Enforcement Code on a six-month tour of duty where no one will talk to you before you go space-crazy.”

Licht shrugged.
“You’re
the experienced murderer, Clio. You and your brother. This investigation will have a hard time forgetting that.”

You’ll never forget, you bastard
, she thought.

Then Tandy rose, fixing Licht with a dark gaze. “If we’re done accusing each other, perhaps we can have a serious discussion about our situation,” he said. Hocking, who by now had run out of stock phrases and was helplessly watching Clio and Licht trade insults, looked hopefully to Tandy.

“Sorry, sir,” Clio said.

Tandy walked to the coffee spigot, filled his cup, turned around to face them. “I wanted Clio brought here, not to accuse her, but to include her in our discussion.” Tandy eyed Captain Hocking, then Licht, in turn. “Clio’s
got to know what we’re up against. In Dive she’s got to be fully prepared, since she’s the only one awake. Or is she?”

Clio’s eyebrow went up on that one.

He sipped at his coffee for a moment. “I propose to set aside for the moment
who
killed Lieutenant Ryerson and ask ourselves instead
what
killed him.”

Clio watched him in startled silence as did everyone else.

“Let’s ask ourselves what possible motive exists in this murder.” A stab of a smile jabbed at his mouth, and disappeared. “Let’s postulate that Ryerson was killed in order to access my quarters, where it is my custom to sleep during third sleep period. This much we’ve already surmised. But why would someone want to kill me? Personal vendetta?” Here he looked at Clio, and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Let’s look at what is really at stake here: a mission to retrieve the most important technology since nuclear weapons. FTL. Someone wanted me dead in order to weaken our military mission. Someone or
something
wanted me dead. Gentlemen, we have a Nianist spy on board.”

“Nonsense,” Hocking said. “We’re all human, surely. You’re not trying to say we have an alien life-form aboard the
Galactique?”

“I’m saying it’s possible, yes. If not a Nian, someone in their pay.” Tandy looked at Hocking until Hocking broke the gaze.

Hocking scowled at the table. “Nonsense.”

Licht pushed himself up to a seated position on the counter top, dangling his legs. “From what I’ve heard, they don’t need knives to take out their prey.”

Tandy pointed his finger at Licht. “Right you are! Then why—if it
is
a Nian—why would they have killed Ryerson with a knife?”

“Cover,” Clio said. “They didn’t want to blow their cover.”

“And right again,” Tandy said, eyes gleaming. “We’ve already had two assaults against this mission. One in the landing bay at Vanda. The other when Chief Engineer Ritters was murdered, Earthside. As his replacement, Susan
Imanishi might be worth checking into. However, that would be too obvious. And if we consider the possibility of sabotage with the air-circulation failures, it’s clear the mission is under attack.”