Robert Sawyer - Red Planet Blues

Doubtless Huxley would have the body moved before I could make it back to Shopatsky House. And I was so tired, if I did run into him there, even he might get the jump on me. Yes, I wanted revenge—but I wouldn’t get it if I didn’t get some sleep.

But sleep didn’t come easily, not in a bed I’d shared with Diana. I took some melatonin, which usually puts me out, but it didn’t work. Instead, I mostly lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling, which had a slowly rotating fan hanging from it.

My gut was churning, and my head was whirling—it was an odd sensation; I think perhaps it was what they call feeling guilty. If I hadn’t sent Diana to see Lakshmi, she’d still be alive, still waiting tables, still writing poetry, still laughing and smiling and thinking about a better tomorrow.

Even if Huxley was on the take, even if Diana’s body was now disposed of, I’d find some way to make Lakshmi Chatterjee pay—or, on the slim chance that she’d been telling the truth (I suppose there was a first time for everything), I’d make whoever had done it pay.

I got up in the morning, showered, and was eating synthesized bacon and eggs when my phone started playing its ringtone. I looked at my wrist; the ID said “NewYou.” I accepted the call, and Horatio Fernandez’s face appeared. “Alex, I’m worried. Reiko was supposed to be here almost half an hour ago, so I headed over to her place, just to see if she was okay. She’s not there.”

“She took something to help her sleep last night. Maybe she’s just out like a light.”

“No, no. She’s gone. The door had been broken open, and the place was empty.”

“Damn!” I’d assumed she was safe, what with Willem Van Dyke and all three meese dead. But—

Christ. Lakshmi Chatterjee. I’d warned that bitch not to go back to the Alpha—but maybe she thought if she had my client as a hostage, she’d be able to get away with it. One good day raiding the beds there would make her insanely rich, after all; I wouldn’t be surprised if she was planning to head back on the Kathryn Denning with a steamer trunk full of fossil loot as soon as that ship was ready to go.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll see if I can find her.” I said goodbye, then called Mac, who had just gotten into the police station.

“Morning, Alex.”

“Mac, Reiko Takahashi is missing again. Her place was broken into. I suspect she’s been taken outside the dome. Can you check for me?” There were only four airlock stations; Lakshmi had to have taken her through one of them. I could have hoofed it to each one, but that would have taken all morning, and the security guards didn’t have to take my bribes, but they did have to answer Mac’s questions.

“I’ll get Huxley to check,” Mac said.

“No!” I said. Then, more calmly, “No. I’d take it as a personal favor, Mac, if you could make the inquiries yourself.”

“What’s going on, Alex?”

“Oh, you know me and Huxley.”

Mac frowned dubiously.

“Please, Mac. I’ll owe you one.”

While I waited for Mac to call back, I got ready to go out the door. I was just doing up my shoelaces when my phone rang again.

“She went out of the north airlock,” Mac said. “And she wasn’t alone. She was with that writer-in-residence woman, Ms. Chatterjee.”

“Ah. Did they rent a Mars buggy, by any chance?”

“No,” said Mac. I was relieved; that meant they couldn’t have gone far, and—

“No,” Mac said again. “They drove up to the airlock in one, and they took it outside.”

Oh, crap. “What color was it?”

“The buggy? Jesus, Alex, I didn’t ask. What difference does that make?”

“None. When did they leave?”

“They logged out of the dome at 5:57 a.m.”

I looked at my wall clock; four hours ago. And if they were outside the dome, they weren’t the NKPD’s concern.

“Thanks, Mac. I’ll be in touch.” I shook the phone off. Shopatsky House was near the north airlock, and I’d bet solars to soy nuts that the Mars buggy Lakshmi had taken Reiko outside in was white with jade green pinstripes—the one I had conveniently left running on the front lawn of the writing retreat.

If it had only been Lakshmi heading to the Alpha, I’d have been half tempted to just let her drive right on out there. The deposit was still guarded by a row of land mines, and I’d shed no tears if she was blown sky-high. But Reiko was my client, and I couldn’t take having another one of those die on my watch.

I made another phone call. Juan Santos looked like he’d gotten even less sleep than I had. “Hey,” I said, “you’re a hacker. You must have a way to shut off your Mars buggy by remote control, no?”

He yawned, then, “Sorry. Yeah. I was thinking about that. You left it running at Shopatsky House, right? I figured I should go collect it this morning. The excimer battery should last for weeks, but—”

“Lakshmi has taken it outside the dome.”

“Hell, Alex. I can’t afford to lose that vehicle.”

“I know, I know. I’ll get it back for you. What’s the remote shutoff code?”

He told me, and my phone recorded it. “But if you’re using your phone to send it, you’ll have to be within a hundred meters or so for it to be picked up,” he added.

“Right, okay. And the code to turn it back on?”

He told me that, too.

“Thanks.”

“Alex, I need—”

But I shook the phone off, grabbed my gun, and ran out my apartment door.

It would eat up half a day getting to the Alpha by Mars buggy; that would never do. And although O’Reilly and Weingarten’s descent stage could fly there quickly, assuming it had enough fuel left, I’d have to get the damn thing hauled onto the planitia first, and that would take forever. And so I went to see the one person I knew who had every luxury item, including an airplane: Ernie Gargalian of Ye Olde Fossil Shoppe.

“Mr. Double-X!” Gargantuan exclaimed as I came into the empty store.

“Hey, Ernie.”

“I hear you’ve had some adventures of late, my boy.”

“Oh?”

“They say you’ve recovered Simon and Denny’s third lander.”

“Who would ‘they’ be?”

“I keep my ear to the ground, my boy.”

I suspected if Ernie ever actually adopted that posture, he wouldn’t be able to get back up. “Well, yeah,” I said.

“There might be a market for it.”

“For the ship?”

“There’s a collector for everything,” he said. “Would you like me to see what I can arrange?”

“I guess, sure. So, listen, can I borrow your airplane?”

Ernie had a hearty laugh, I’ll give him that. “By Gad, my dear boy! You do have gumption.”

“You can’t spell gumption without P-I.” Actually, maybe you could—but you’d have to do it phonetically.

“And just where might you take my plane, Alex?”

“To the Alpha Deposit.”

Ernie’s demeanor changed instantly. “You know where it is?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. When do we leave?”

I’d expected this to be the price I’d have to pay. Rory wouldn’t have liked it—but Rory was dead. Reiko, on the other hand, was probably still alive, but quite likely wouldn’t be for much longer. “Right now,” I said.

Just then a customer tried to enter. “No, no,” said Ernie, hurrying to the door. “We’re closed.”

The customer—a woman in her forties—pointed at the laser-etched sign. “But the sign says…”

“A typo!” declared Ernie. “I’ll get it fixed.”

Crossing the room had been enough to set Ernie to huffing and puffing; there was no way he could walk all the way out to the edge of the dome; his plane, I knew, was parked outside the north airlock, coincidentally the same one Lakshmi and Reiko had exited through. But a man of Gargalian’s stature—literal and figurative—did not trifle with public transit. He went into his back room and emerged floating on a hoverchair—and I saw that he’d also fetched a rifle.