Day Three of NaNoWriMo. 1049 words.
She would need an employee list. And maybe what the three victims met on is still in Corbaine’s records. If he had any left. “Mylte? Did they loot all the computer records too?”
“I do not know for certain, Mistress. They took computer equipment, but the information may still be there.”
“Okay, we’ll have to go see.” Zy unplugged the vidplayer and readied it for traveling. “Sara, what to use to make an interface between you and Corbaine’s computers?”
“The green cords in the storage room. You should find one with the correct port connections.”
Mylte trotted after Zy as they went a little ways down the curving hallway of the saucer to the storage room. She was getting used to that. And it made it easy for her to give the green cords to him, and grab the vidplayer when they left the saucer. She put on a breather before entering Corbaine’s former headquarters. It was a small device that held a filter and fitted over the end of her nose with inserts into the nostrils. Less cumbersome than a gas mask, but it didn’t offer any protection from a chemical attack. It just kept bad smells away.
“We’ll start in the communications room, or whatever the heck it was.” She stopped in the doorway and surveyed the electronic mess.
“It was used to contact other, Mistress.”
“Well, look for a port that matches at least one of those cords.” Zy gingerly moved across the room to start looking from the other end of the control panel. “Still has lights on, guess that means we have power.”
“I tried to turn things off in other areas, but I did not understand how with this equipment, Mistress.”
“Reading other languages is always a problem. I think I found it, let me see the cords.” She picked up a set of headphones blocking her view and tossed them over her shoulder. The vidplayer rested on the board without activating anything, and one of the cords fit between the two ports.
She looked at the screen. Contact established. Downloading all contents. Estimated time to completion: 3 standard hours.
“Sara found something.” Zy rubbed her face. “So now we have to make a decision.”
Mylte blinked his black eyes.
“We have to give Corbaine a funeral or something. I’m not living him here to rot. What do you think would be the best way to… well, dispose of the body?”
“Master told me once the tradition of his people is fire.”
“A funeral pyre?”
“Yes, shall I start preparations, Mistress?”
“Go ahead, I don’t need you for this.”
He pointed to the screen. “It is flashing.”
There is an incoming transmission. Cannot open at the remote location.
“Somebody wants to talk to me at the saucer. You get things started.” Zy ignored his affirmatives, and pulled the breather off as soon as she reached the outside. The only other vidplayer communicator was in her bunk. She sat down at the cubicle attached to the wall. The sender had encrypted it to hide his identity. She sighed, and activated the transmission, “Hello?”
“You look ravishing, Zy.” Xeryl grinned on the screen. “You and Corbaine getting along?”
“I’m burying him.” She propped her chin in her hands.
“I know you don’t approve of his profession, but I don’t think that will help your current investigation. Not to mention how your superiors frown on killing off suspects.” He leaned back in his chair.
“I found him dead. Self-inflected shot to the head in a room full of witnesses who he was begging to stop him. My witness thought he reached the body first and found the gun missing.”
Xeryl straightened. “Other than the witnesses, that’s exactly how we found Ifeket.”
“Based on forensics, he died before Ifeket. Maybe the killer learned something between the two.”
“And learned a new way of killing altogether for Possatact and Fudlack.” He fingered his braid.
Zy sat up. “Who’s Fudlack?”
“The newest murder victim, established in the Ecan system for 10 standard years. His headquarters is on Ecan 2, and that’s where he was killed.”
“And you know about this how?”
“I’m in the process of negotiating a trade deal with Fudlack. His death puts a hamper on that, but I thought we could gather some clues. Yes, that’s the phrase you used before.”
“What do you mean we?”
“You’re not going to be able to talk to any of Fudlack’s people without me. Their philosophy is to kill off law enforcement of any stature.”
“So I’m supposed to accept your protection? I don’t believe this! Who’s the Agent, me or you?”
“I have a vested interest in seeing Possatact’s murderer punished.”
“Because he messed with your plans, and it’s convient to have IGA do your dirty work. It’s not like your care because you liked Possatact or something.”
“Aren’t you the one who kicked him in the gut when he exposed you? If liking the victim makes you a good investigator, you’re the least qualified.”
“It’s my job! One you forced on me because you wouldn’t have any other Agent take Murdock’s place.”
“To see you again! And now you need my help.”
“Says you!”
“Calm down. I just want to help you get through Fudlack’s remaining organization. You’ll end up with your head on a pole if you try kicking them in the collective guts.”
“I don’t work with a partner.”
Xeryl leaned back again. “You are entirely too pessimistic. The situation isn’t that bad.”
“I do not work with a partner. Any partner!”
“Stop being unreasonable.”
“I’m not being unreasonable!”
“Screaming doesn’t help.”
Zy terminated the transmission, and let a strangled growl escape her throat. She pulled up the hyperspace calculations. Finish the downloads, bury Corbaine, and she could still make it to Ecan 2 by tomorrow. Good thing she could sleep in space.
A rift in the thick purple clouds poured the orange setting sunlight onto the plateau. Zy pulled her leather jacket tighter around her. Where Mylte had found enough wood to make this pyre, she wasn’t going to ask. He had wrapped the corpse in a white sheet and set it on top, refusing any assistance from her. “My last service for Master” was his explanation.
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