Ben Jeapes - Time's Chariot

As his foot touched the floor a voice symbed into their minds. ‘ This area is under the jurisdiction of the Security Division. Please state your business .’

Security? He and Su looked at each other, then Rico glanced back at the others already present. Some were waving instruments here and there, others seemed to be just lingering and chatting in small groups. So, these were Security Ops.

‘Ops Garron and Zo,’ he said. ‘You can check our business here with the household.’

Presumably the voice did just that. ‘ You may proceed .’

‘Did the Commissioner leave instructions for us?’ Su asked the ball of light.

‘I’m afraid not,’ said the house’s voice.

‘Can we see him, then?’ Rico said.

‘I’m afraid not,’ the light said again. ‘The Commissioner died this morning. He fell from his balcony.’

Rico and Su glanced at each other, then Rico edged back to the stairs and peeked into the abyss, trying to imagine the drop. The whistling of the wind, the ground looming, the awful knowledge that in just a few more moments that would be it, the end, no comeback, body so smashed that no surgery could repair it.

‘Ouch,’ he said. Suddenly he felt a lot less secure in the apartment’s agrav safeties and he stepped back into the security of the room again.

‘It was tragic,’ the light agreed.

‘I think we should go,’ Su said.

‘Go?’ Rico protested. ‘But we haven’t got what we came—’

‘Rico, I don’t think now is a good time for removing items from the late Commissioner’s apartment, do you?’ Su murmured.

Rico glanced around, then back at the light. ‘We’ll see ourselves out, if that’s OK,’ he said.

‘Of course.’ Rico watched as the light moved away, then turned back to Su.

‘Look,’ he said, ‘the place is crawling with Ops…’

‘ Security Ops,’ Su hissed.

‘… so who’s going to notice a couple of extra?’

‘Rico, we’re Field Ops. Completely different thing.’

Rico grinned and plucked at the tunic of his own uniform. The cut and colours — yellow, with red piping — were just the same: Security and Field Ops all worked for the College. ‘If you’ve got it,’ he said, ‘use it. Su, the sooner we find what we’re after, the sooner we can leave, right?’ He blocked any further argument by swinging round on his heel and heading off for where he assumed the study was.

Rico paused in the doorway because the room was already occupied. A slight, blonde woman a few years older than him, and a man his age; dark hair, pale eyes. They were talking closely to each other, voices barely more than a murmur, and Rico almost apologized for interrupting. Then he remembered he was masquerading as a Security Op and didn’t have to apologize to anyone, so he sidled in without announcing himself. He sneaked a look around: where to start?

The study was decorated with a typical Home Time eclecticism. Fake bookshelves lined the walls, the carpet glowed with 1960s psychedelia and in an alcove there was a bust of Jean Morbern, founder of the College. Rico chose a shelf at random and started to examine what was on it.

‘… suicide,’ said the woman behind him. ‘He was so… so alive, Hossein. He enjoyed existing so much. And look around you — he was so tidy ! If Li had wanted to kill himself he’d have used one of the bureaux.’

‘I know how much he meant to you, Marje…’

‘And retirement! Li was going to retire any day now! He had it all arranged…’

Retirement? Rico thought, with another glance around at this mini-palace in the Himalayas. Retirement meant moving out into space, to one of the retirement worlds; the one concession the space nations made to their native Earth to prevent their home world from being completely overrun. Well, if Daiho had to chuck all this in… maybe the suicide idea had something to it.

The man sounded like someone who wasn’t used to having to sound sympathetic. ‘Let’s not jump to conclusions,’ he said. ‘We should wait for the autopsy report.’ Rico carefully didn’t think of how much body there would be left to perform an autopsy on, after a fall from that height. ‘For now, Li would want you to get on with the job. Who are you?’

Rico was only half listening and it took a moment to realize he was being addressed. He turned round, fingers pressed innocently to his chest. The man and the woman were both looking at him. The woman’s eyes were red and damp: she had taken the loss of the Commissioner hard. The man’s pale eyes were just hostile and his head was tilted to one side, as if Rico looked familiar in some way.

‘Op Garron,’ Rico said. He remembered he was playing Security. ‘And you, sir?’

The man was taken aback. ‘Hossein Asaldra. I’m the personal assistant to—’

‘Me, Marje Orendal,’ said the woman. ‘I’m Head of Psychological Profiles at the College… and apparently I’ve been appointed Acting Commissioner to replace Li. Commissioner Daiho.’

‘Have we met before?’ Asaldra said. He still had that quizzical look on his face.

‘You’re the new Commissioner for Correspondents?’ Rico said to the woman, caught off-guard. He hadn’t expected to bluff with this level of seniority. On the other hand, she was sufficiently senior that he could ignore Asaldra’s question quite safely.

‘Acting,’ the woman repeated.

‘What are you doing here?’ Asaldra said, apparently deciding, as Rico already had, that the answer to his last question was ‘no’. ‘ You people have already been over this room.’ He spoke blandly, almost sounding bored, but still managed to convey animosity.

Rico decided the truth was called for. ‘I’m looking for a field computer,’ he said. ‘Comm… the late Commissioner booked it out and never returned it.’

The woman rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Bureaucracy goes on. Well, carry on looking, Op Garron.’

‘It will be returned to Fieldwork when the Commissioner’s effects are cleared,’ the man said. ‘Why is a field computer any concern…’ He paused and his face went blank for a moment. He was symbing into the copy of the College database held somewhere in the apartment and Rico knew the bluff had just evaporated. ‘There is no Security Operative Garron,’ he said. ‘There is a Field Operative of that name. You’re not Security, are you?’

‘My partner and I made an appointment with the household,’ Rico said. ‘We were expected.’

‘Why’s a field computer so important?’ Orendal said.

Rico gave an embarrassed grin. ‘I, um, stored data on my last field trip and never downloaded it,’ he said. ‘I thought it might still be there…’

‘Your sloppy work is your problem, not ours,’ Asaldra said. ‘I think you had better leave and stop intruding on the Acting Commissioner’s grief.’

Since the Acting Commissioner was standing five feet away from him and perfectly capable of speaking for herself, Rico felt his blood rising.

‘Of course,’ he said directly to her, ‘you have to ask why the Commissioner would check out a field computer if he was going to—’

‘That will do,’ Asaldra said. ‘I’ve had enough of this. I’m calling Security.’

‘Just shout,’ Rico said. ‘They’re everywhere.’

But a Security Op was already in the doorway. She shot Rico a curious glance before addressing the other two.

‘Acting Commissioner, Secretary, I thought you should know the autopsy report is in.’

‘And?’ Orendal said quickly.

‘Commissioner Li Daiho died of an aneurysm, ma’am. An artery in his head must have burst and killed him immediately. He was probably dead when he fell off the balcony.’