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SECOND DRAFT FINISHED!
Word count of first draft = 7185
Word count of Second draft = 10311
“Murdock?” The spaceship door was still open. “You’re going to get found out if you don’t shut the door.” Cyndia staggered up the ramp.
The orange mass formed a face that looked at her as she came in. “What happened to you?”
“Thestern killed another family. I had a fight with him. He jumped in the lake, I think.”
“The Odrichans are an aquatic species.” He got up from the desk and cupped her chin with a tentacle. “Your skin is discoloring.”
Now she could feel the throbbing across her cheekbone. It hurt to the touch. “He smacked me hard. He said I was disturbing God’s name.”
Murdock had reformed into the humanoid shape. The eye hollows looked down at her. “You fought with Thestern. That was not what I intended when I asked for your assistance. Do you have any concept of how doltish that was?”
“He hit me first!” Cyndia jerked away and threw herself into a chair. “What does disturbing God’s name mean?”
“I do not know.” Murdock slid back from her a little, but kept his face on her.
“Didn’t you guys do a psych evaluation when you had him in custody? Psychiatric,” she added to his blank look.
“There was not enough time and the Odrichans did not. This is frustrating; I’m too far apart from where I need to be.”
“Mrs. Baton isn’t home right now. You can move in. As long as you hide in my room, she shouldn’t find out.”
“I don’t want to create inconvience for you.”
“The sooner we catch Thestern the better off the neighborhood will be, right?” Cyndia stood up with her best smile. “What do you need me to carry?”
She ended up carrying the laptop thingy that Murdock called a vidplayer and the flying camera robot. It didn’t take very long to set both up in her bedroom. She pulled out the books she had checked out for the Jack the Ripper paper while Murdock gazed at her bedroom.
“It is aestetically pleasing.” He finally said. “But this doesn’t match.” A tentacle touched the scuffed-up black trunk at the end of the frilly pink bed.
“That’s the only thing that’s mine.” Cyndia looked up from True Crime: Serial Killers. “This is Mrs. Baton’s house, bedroom, and decorations. She’s paid by the government to look after me since my parents are dead. She’s the fourth person to have the job, and probably won’t be the last. So if I run across something I like and it can’t fit into that trunk, I don’t need to own it.” She stared back down at the book again.
“I am limited to just the saucer, which does have more space. What happened to your family?”
“They died when I was a baby. Never knew them. Nobody wanted to adopt me, so I’ve been stuck in the foster care system. Will be released at age eighteen, right after high school graduation. I’ve been lucky, though. The foster parents I’ve been stuck with haven’t been monsters; they just want me to be something I’m not.” There was no answer from Murdock. “Sorry, you didn’t want to hear about all that. Let’s concentrate on the case.”
Murdock’s body rippled. “We need to see the current crime scene, the one where you were injured.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that. Do you want me to take you there?”
“Not necessary, we can program the coordinates into the robot.”
Cyndia opened the window and pointed to the still lit Johnson house. “I need to go take care of my face.”
Her cheek in the mirror wasn’t too bad. She put ice on it to reduce the swelling; she could get away with saying she ran into a door. Her neck ached but the bruises probably wouldn’t show up until tomorrow.
She returned to her bedroom holding the ice pack against her cheekbone. Murdock had set up on the floor on the other side of the bed, and only the top of his orange mass was visible from the door. “What does disturbing God’s name mean? Is Thestern a religious fanatic?” She pulled her desk chair around the bed where she could see him, and sat down.
Murdock frowned and consulted his vidplayer. “Not according to his personal library. The Odrichan law enforcement catalogued nearly three hundred books divided between astronomy and mythology, none on current religious practices on Odrichan 4.”
“Odrichan 4 is the planet’s name?”
“It is not what the Odrichans call it. The naming development worked out by interstellar travel is to name the star system and number the planets from the star outward.”
“Okay back to Thestern. I think religious fanatics usually say demons made them kill or their victims were demons—like the Son of Sam.” She opened the reference book to his entry. “Did Thestern say anything like that while he was in custody?”
“Only that he wasn’t finished and we would regret stopping him. Repeatedly.”
“A man of one theme?” Cyndia raised an eyebrow at Murdock’s sarcastic tone.
“At least he isn’t a liar. He did start killing as soon as he was free to do so. I need to study the crime scene to discover why he picks certain families opposed to others.”
“Okay, I’ll study my book to see if we missed an angle.” Cyndia laid down on her bed. “How was Thestern caught?”
“He targeted the home of a member of the local law enforcement. The officer was prepared for him.”
“Can’t count on that here. No cops live in this subdivision.”
Murdock made a noncommittal sound as he leaned over the vidplayer. She flipped through the book. The killers featured mostly acted on their sexual impulses, killing who attracted them. Son of Sam seemed the closest, and he just killed pretty girls he found on the streets at random. Whatever caused Thestern to choose his victims, it wasn’t sex.
You disturb God’s name. It almost sounds like an insult, only he hadn’t delivered it like an insult, he was being literal. She was messing with God’s name? How could you do that?
The camera robot tapped against the glass. “I’ll get it.” She couldn’t resist sticking her head out the window once it had flown in. The Johnsons’ house was still lit. Mrs. Baton’s car pulled into the driveway. She closed the window and turned to Murdock. “Mrs. Baton’s back.”
He was plugging a wire from the camera robot to the vidplayer. “Do you foresee problems?”
“She’s not exactly hands off.” She climbed back on her bed.
Like Cyndia had spoken a cue, a quick knock hit the door before it swung open. “What were you doing half out the window? Sneaking out?” Mrs. Baton slammed her fists onto her hips.
Cyndia looked straight ahead. Couldn’t give Murdock away. “If I was sneaking out, I would use the door. You weren’t home.”
“Why can’t you act like a normal teenager? Stop pretending you want to be a detective and concentrate on real life, like going out on dates.”
“Boys don’t like me, okay?” Cyndia made the mistake of turning to face Mrs. Baton.
“What happened to your face? You didn’t pick a fight with someone, did you?”
Cynthia put the ice pack back on her cheek. “I tripped and hit the door. I have ice on it. It should be fine.”
“All right, now you need to get to bed. You have school tomorrow.” Mrs. Baton picked the serial killers book up off the bed. “And no more reading this, it will give you nightmares.”
“The Johnsons’ lights are still on.”
Mrs. Baton sighed. “There you go, being nosy again. Their kids are probably just upset and they need longer to get them to bed. People who pry into other people’s lives are not heroes. They hurt people, and turn into alcoholics. You have to get your head out of those books. Now good-night.”
Cyndia rolled her eyes, and leaned over to view the other side of the bed. Murdock and his equipment was gone. “It’s safe to come out now.”
Part of the orange mass slid out from under the bed. “A good agent doesn’t always resort to sarcasm. Especially if they need something from the other party.”
“She shouldn’t always jump to stupid conclusions.” Cyndia scowled. “And I better do what she says otherwise she’ll be barging in every five minutes.”
#
Sleep was disjointed between the unfamiliar glow from Murdock’s equipment and feeling hands wrap around her throat. Orange eyes pierced the darkness behind her eyelids. After the fifth time of waking up having almost drifted to sleep, a warm tendril smoothed back her brown hair. “Fear not, Zy. He will not harm you here.”
She didn’t answer Murdock. She didn’t know how. But sleep stayed after that.
#
Cyndia had never skipped school a day in her life so far. Therefore, she felt reasonable sure Mrs. Baton wouldn’t call to make sure she was there. But she still had to hide until the woman left for her real estate appointments. She straddled a root and leaned her back against the Millers’ back yard tree. The lake’s brown waters sparkled where the sun shone on its tiny waves.
“Where are you going to strike next when you come out? You’re following some logical plan, vision, something. We just can’t see it.” Murdock had muttered the same thing while she got dressed this morning. Then he had showed her his comparisons of the two crime scenes, pointing out Thestern’s signature touches. Eating breakfast wasn’t an option after that.
“You shouldn’t be here, trespassing on a crime scene.” Officer Peterson closed the back yard gate.
Cyndia brushed back her brown hair. “I didn’t realize the yard was part of the crime scene. Sorry.”
“No harm done if you’re staying out of the house.”
She took a deep breath and averted her eyes. “I saw enough of it.”
“Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“I couldn’t.” She looked back at him. “The lights never went off at the Johnsons’ and nobody left for work this morning. They’re across the street from us. I told Mrs. Baton last night, but she didn’t think it was important enough to bother the police about.”
Peterson frowned. Yes, he understood what she was implying. “You didn’t go over to look?”
She looked away again. “No.”
“Well, I won’t tell the trauance officer on you, if this is the last time.”
“It will be. Will you check out the Johnsons’?”
“Yes. You’re not going to stay here all day?”
Cyndia smiled. “Just until Mrs. Baton leaves, and then I’ll lock myself back in the house again.”
“All right.” He left the yard, shutting the gate after him.
That was one less thing to worry about. And said in such a way that she wouldn’t be number one on their suspect list. She looked back at the lake. Astronomy, that was telling the future from where constellations were when you were born. No, that was astrology; astronomy must be the scientific one. So he liked to look at the stars. And on Earth constellations came from mythology. And mythology was just religions no longer in practice.
You disturb God’s name. He was spelling out names with the murders, names of the gods and goddesses from the mythology books.
She peered around the fence. Mrs. Baton’s car chugged down the street. Cyndia ran to the house, pausing to unlock and lock the door, and running back up the stairs. She threw her book sack on the bed. “He’s spelling names of gods and goddesses with the murders!”
Murdock’s eye hollows shifted to the side to look at her. “We thought of that. None of the Odrichan murders matched their written language.”
“What about constellations? How many of the gods are pictured as constellations?”
Murdock bent over the vidplayer. Cyndia draped herself over the bed so she could see the screen over his shoulder shape. He opened up multiple windows, maps with marked locations and star maps with the constellations drawn on them. “He paused between sprees, waiting at least a local Odrichan week. But the sprees always had a different amount of killings, different number of houses struck.” He typed in something and some of the marks disappeared on the street map. “Let’s see if the computer can match the first spree.”
A new window opened and constellation patterns flipped on it. It stopped on one and superimposed over the map with the crime scenes marked. All the stars fit over the red dots.
“I think you have concluded it. Let’s check the next spree. This is the one that was interrupted.”
The computer found three constellations that matched. Cyndia frowned. “That only had four crime scenes. Can we find the constellation off of just two?”
“We need a map of this area. It’s possible that Thestern has started over on the same constellation pattern he was stopped on.”
It took a while to find a map of the subdivision in Mrs. Baton’s files. Only one constellation of the three matched to an occupied house. “So we have to guard the O’Neals’ house tonight.”
“Yes. Thestern will strike as soon as it is dark.”
“But why? What does putting constellations down with murder do for him?” Cyndia sat crosslegged on her bed.
“He is sacrificing them.” Murdock frowned. “I’ll let the computer search on sacrifices in Odrichan culture. We must rest for tonight.”
#
Murdock guarded the front door. He could flatten himself in the shadows much better than she could. Cyndia laid under the shrubbery in the back yard like a soldier ready to crawl out on her stomach.
The puppy whimpered in its kennel. A vague uneasiness cleared in her mind. How could she stop Thestern? She needed self-defense training or boxing lessons or karate or something. Her throat hurt. Why didn’t she think of the shotgun earlier? She could hit him over the head with it at least. There wasn’t even a baseball bat in the yard. Billy liked cars of all sizes and large action figures. Crap, she hadn’t even remembered the water gun.
The only thing that the computer found on why Thestern was replicating constellation patterns with the murders was that ancient Odrichans used stars to mark their sacrifices and bring down the power of the gods. Loony but it did explain why he didn’t kill her outside the house; it would have messed up the way the constellation would look on the ground.
A dark mass gathered at the top of the wooden fence and jumped into the yard. Cyndia’s stomach tightened. No, he wasn’t going to hurt another baby so he could become a god.
She shimmied out of the shrubbery as the figure crept closer to the house. A sandpit was between her and the figure and the house; a sandpit filled with toys. She heaved a Tonka dump truck with both hands. It hit Thestern in the legs.
He hit the ground, but sprang back up. The next toy flew towards his head. A blue hand batted it away. The puppy now realized there were intruders in the yards, and yelped continuously.
Thestern steadily advanced, avoiding the thrown toys. “I’m not letting you hurt anyone else!” Cyndia launched the Spider-man action figure. “You’re no god, you moron!” Thestern ducked and it sailed over his head.
Cyndia braced herself. She twined her fingers together, and hit Thestern in the head with a volleyball blow. But he still tackled her, knocking her back into the grass.
She grabbed his wrists, but his fingers inched closer. Kicking didn’t unbalance him at all. If I get out of this, I’m learning how to shoot and some fancy judo chops.
Something wrapped around Thestern’s head and he reared back. He clawed to try to remove the orange, but more slid back.
Cyndia stood up as Thestern’s frantic motions slowed down and finally stopped. “Is he dead?”
Murdock pulled away from the Odrichan. “No, nearly unconscious.” The face sculpted in the orange smiled. “My faith in you was not misplaced.”
“I was lucky.”
“There is no such thing as luck,” Murdock said. “It is a conglomeration of factors that need you to fit them together. Others call it luck because they don't realize you are the deciding factor.”
“Is my dog okay?” Billy shut the sliding glass door. He ran to the dog pen, and pulled out the fuzzy white puppy. He hugged it while staring at them.
“Your dog is fine, he just didn’t like us fighting.” Cyndia smiled. “Did your parents hear anything?”
“Just Tiger barking. They’re watching a movie. Is that the cop from outer space?”
“Yeap. We caught the bad guy and he’s going to an outer space prison.”
Murdock grunted as he slid under Thestern’s body and lifted it up. “We need to get him secured.”
“Right. You better get inside, Billy. And this is our secret.”
“Cool. Bye Cyndia, bye Mr. Outer Space Cop.”
#
Murdock had sent the camera robot flying back to the saucer, but he had forgotten about his vidplayer. Cyndia was sent home after Thestern was secured in the saucer, which was actually okay with here, she needed to pack. Murdock wouldn’t leave the vidplayer behind.
She hid the trunk out in the woods between Mrs. Baton’s house and the saucer that night. The vidplayer she set on the wood side of the hedge that morning when she left to hide with her trunk.
He left to go find it and she watched him go. He would probably be upset that she wasn’t there to say good-bye but he probably wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. She hefted her trunk. After all, he had a prisoner to get back to prison.
Cyndia dropped the trunk in the storage room, and made sure the door was closed. She laid down next to the trunk. And there she waited until the throbbing noise under the metal plates grew louder and lulled her to sleep.
#
Nearly ten hours had passed when she woke up again. Taking the chance that ten hours away from Earth was too far to turn around, she left the storage room. Murdock was in the main room of the saucer, standing behind his desk in a relaxed blob, typing on the vidplayer with ten outstretched tentacles. “Hi, Murdock.”
A ripple moved through his translucent body before the face formed to look at her. “I should have anticipated this development. You hid in the storage room, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” Her foot scuffed against the floor. “You sound like me being here is a bad idea.”
“It is! There are guidelines in dealing with primitive….”
“Primative! You didn’t think I was primitive when you needed my help.” She planted her hands on her hips.
“They are as much for your protection as it is….”
“Oh that’s a load of crap. You said you had faith in me. That’s all gone now that I want to be what you are.” Cyndia folded her arms and stared at the metal floor.
“What do you mean?”
“I want to be an agent like you. And now you’re telling me there’s some rule that I can’t. No different from anything else in my life.” She kicked the floor again.
His face frowned in puzzlement. “You want to be an agent?”
“You can’t take me back, Murdock. I know I need training, but I have a knack for detecting, don’t I? I’ve wanted to be is a detective for as long as I can remember. Don’t send me back.” She balled her fists at her sides. She couldn’t look at him.
Murdock slid over to stand besides her. “Well we can’t have a perspective trainee sleeping in the storage room.” He started forming into a humanoid shape as he moved toward the hallway. “Regulations be castigated. You have too much talent to waste on that planet.”
