Chapter 16 - Autopsy
Romanov City Constabulary
Romanov City, Gagarin, Union of Federated Systems
Monday, 17 September 3488
Xanthe paced back and forth the across the little space afforded in the cramped holding cell, eyes locked downcast as they had been for the past hour. Her mind was working at full speed as she tried to fit this whole situation together, to no avail. From Hontaro Deckran to Ranshal Korgwesh, they now had two dead bodies and no answers. “This doesn’t make any sense,” She said finally on her latest lap, cutting through the silence that had existed over the cell’s occupants.
“No, it doesn’t,” Came the agreement from the opposite side of the small room, where Captain Rigby stood leaned against the far wall. Her head was down, hat working to shield the Captain’s face from Xanthe’s sight.
Xanthe threw her hands up. If the Captain was stumped, then this whole thing may as well be hopeless. “Ranshal Korgwesh has been missing for several weeks now; why does he show up here, and why did he kill Hontaro Deckran?” Nothing in what they knew about Ranshal thus far would suggest any sort of radical tendency or affinity for murder.
“Maybe it was not him,” Brextallor offered from his place on the cell’s only seat, a small stone bench. “You only saw the body for a few minutes before the security forces arrived, correct? It could have been a Quorthwenne imposter. There have been known cases where a disguise does not revert until a few minutes after death.”
“Impossible,” Xanthe was quick to counter, shaking her head. “I’d have detected a Quorth a long way off. Besides, I asked the officer who was questioning me. He was pretty tight-lipped about it but did confirm that the body was biologically Parfful.”
“That could have been a misdirection,” Brex replied. “We are suspects here, after all.” That much Xanthe knew was true. Captain Rigby had assured them that they had needed to surrender and cooperate with the authorities when the Romanov City Security Forces swarmed the lodge, so long as they didn’t reveal too many specifics.
“That was Ranshal.” Rigby offered, still not budging. “I know it was.”
“And how do you know that for sure?” Brex asked. “Did you not say he was without identification?” That was another bit of the mess that complicated the situation. Since their assassin had no ID on him, Rigby had sworn the three of them to secrecy for the time being on his identity. To the constabulary, he was simply an unnamed body.
“I recognized him, and I don’t usually forget a face. Plus…” Rigby paused, as if trying to find the proper words. “When he spoke to me, he confirmed it.”
“When?” Xanthe asked, suddenly privy to something she hadn’t picked up on before. She tried to recall the strange things that Ranshal had been saying when they were on the rooftop. All she could recall was the whole monologue about being in love with mountains, and that strange promise that they’d meet again soon. A promise that would never come to fruition, given the fact that the kid was now dead.
“Right before he died, when I was at his side,” Rigby replied. It was only then that Xanthe remembered that Ranshal had grabbed Rigby’s collar, muttered something, then fell limp.
“What did he say to you?”
There was no response immediately, as Captain Rigby slowly raised her head in thought. Xanthe was able to catch sight of her face now, though she wish she hadn’t. A shiver ratcheted through Xanthe’s body when she again caught that haunted look in the Captain’s eyes. It was the same look she had been given on the rooftop just before learning the assassin’s identity. “He told me to tell his parents that he didn’t mean to do this.” She replied, her eyes falling again. “He said they made him do it.” She put extra emphasis on the word ‘they’.
Xanthe looked at Brex just in time to see the Proximan return the look. “Who made him do it?” The latter asked.
“I don’t know,” She admitted. “But then he started talking about voices in his head…” The Captain was cut off by the sudden sound of commotion in the hallway. “We’ll finish this later,” She said, ending it there. Xanthe’s interest was immediately seized by that latest revelation and wanted to press further, but the sounds from outside grew louder and she knew they wouldn’t be alone too much longer.
A small group of footsteps walked up to the opposite side of their door, halting as the locking mechanisms were disengaged. As the holding cell door began to slide open, Xanthe was first greeted by a musty rush to her olfactory sense, clear indication of a member of her own species outside. Sure enough, a grizzled old Quorthwar stood there in constabulary uniform. From the patches and badges, coupled with the way in which he carried himself, it was clear he was in charge, the name ‘Brasidas’ embroidered on his uniform. At his side were two other officers. None of them seemed particularly happy.
“It looks like you three have some friends in high places,” Brasidas said. He waited a moment for response and when none came, he went on. “It looks like Senator Kran’s office has requested that you be released. One of his minions is down in the lounge, waiting for you.” The Quorthwar set them with a hard stare, before waving for them to follow. “This way.” Xanthe looked at Rigby, who nodded. It wasn’t too hard to figure out who this ‘minion’ was, and after leading them through the station to a small lounge, Xanthe’s guess was confirmed.
Partash Vess stood with a mask of neutrality on his tan face, arms clasped behind his back as he paced back-and-forth across the room. When they entered he paused, pulling himself up to his full height. “Thank you, Chief Brasidas,” He said evenly. His eyes had locked on Rigby now, and while Vess’ expression remained neutral, Xanthe could read the fury behind it.
The chief hesitated for a moment. “As I mentioned to your boss’s representative, this isn’t over.” Brasidas said. “I have two bodies, a shooting, countless witnesses who saw a chase, and these three are my only suspects. I do not intend to allow the Senate to get in my way with this.” Xanthe grimaced. She had been on the wrong end of the law more times than she cared to recall and knew how dogged the good officers tended to be when it came to their investigations. Whether for better or for worse, Brasidas seemed to be one of the good ones.
“That won’t be your problem, Chief Brasidas,” Vess said, eyes still on the Captain. “Senator Kran has spoken with the Minister of Internal Defense, and we’re transferring this case to Federal Security.”
“Excuse me?” Brasidas asked, his voice suddenly suspicious.
Vess did move his gaze to the Quorthwar, if only for a second. “There has been a string of similar cases under the investigation of the Federal Security Bureau. We’ve spoken with their liaison, and they already have a team on their way down here.”
“Sir, I must object. My teams…” Brasidas began.
“Your objection is noted, Chief,” Vess cut off. “But the decision had been made. Confirmation should be back on your desk before you return to your office. Is this understood?”
Brasidas was silent. “Understood.” He said begrudgingly, turning to leave.
“Good. And Chief Brasidas?” Partash added, halting the Quorthwar. “This is a closed matter as far as you and your people are concerned. It would be good for the security of the Union if you forgot everything about this.”
“It’ll take more than silencing a few officers in order to keep such a public event under wraps.” Brasidas countered.
“This isn’t a coverup.” Vess assured him. “The FedSec investigation is nearing its end, and after that the public will be made aware. This is a matter of national security.” He added that last part as if it was an afterthought, an invocation of that golden trump card that Xanthe knew governments considered a free pass to do what they wanted, the law be damned.
“Of course, sir.” Brasidas bit out. He left the room, the door sliding shut behind him. Xanthe watched him go, then returned her gaze to Partash Vess, whose mask of neutrality had melted, revealing the seething frustration beneath.
“What in the hell were you thinking?” Vess hissed. “This is a bridge too far Judith; too far! I told you to stay away from Hontaro Deckran and you flagrantly disregarded that. I told you that the Ranshal Korgwesh situation was under control, and you flagrantly disregarded that. Now here you are, in police custody, with both the dead body of Deckran and of a Senator’s son on the table in an autopsy room!”
“Under control?” Xanthe stammered, unable to help herself at the insanity of the statement. “Is that what you call it when Ranshal murders another man in broad daylight? That gun-for-hire you had out looking for him must be rather incompetent, if this is what happens…”
Captain Rigby, utterly unphased by Vess’ outburst, held up a hand for Xanthe to hold her anger, which she reluctantly did. Next Rigby walked over to the nearest chair and sat down. She still held her nervous look from the holding cell. “How long until Senator Korgwesh arrives to collect his son’s body?” She asked.
“What?” Vess asked. “Did you hear a thing I just said? You’re lucky we don’t just throw you to the security service and let them pin this whole thing on you!”
“How long, Partash?”
The aide compressed his lips, stifling his anger. “Just under ten hours. Why?”
“I need you to let my medical expert do an autopsy on him.” Rigby replied. Xanthe blinked. She hadn’t expected that one.
Vess looked as if he had just been struck across the cheek. “Are you out of your mind? Absolutely not!”
“Partash!” Rigby’s head snapped onto a trajectory with Vess, her voice suddenly commanding. “We need to know why this happened.”
Vess stood his ground. “I’m not sure if you realized, but the son of a senator just killed a high-ranking JekWare executive. This isn’t exactly something that Kran or Korgwesh are going to let go through the usual channels.”
“So that whole bit about FedSec taking the case was a lie, I presume?” Xanthe asked. She took one of the other seats, Brex falling in beside her.
“Of course it was!” Vess admitted. “The potential scandal is huge, and if not handled correctly…” He trailed off, but the implications of the thought were plain.
“You’re unbelievable,” Xanthe said, shaking her head derisively. Partash Vess continued to confirm her initial opinion of him. At the end of the day, politics was ore important than anything to these people.
“Be that as it may,” Vess said, ignoring the statement. “The fact stands. I cannot have you cutting the boy open before his father gets here!”
“We don’t need to,” Rigby persisted. “Doc can use non-invasive autopsy equipment. We just need to get a good scan of his body chemistry.”
“And what’s that going to prove?” Vess asked.
Rigby set him with a hard look. “I just watched an eighteen-year-old kid with no military experience shoot a man through the chest from a half a kilometer away.” Her expression suddenly became dark. “Do you know how long it took me to become skilled enough to make such a shot?”
“Besides,” Xanthe added quickly. “We need to know everything about this to help us find Euphemia Sethell.” At the mention of that name, Vess suddenly became rigid. The other three picked up on that immediately, Xanthe’s eyes narrowing.
“I can’t allow this,” Vess replied, quickly. “Senator Korgwesh demanded that nobody touch his son’s body before he arrives, and we’ve…” He hesitated, suddenly very agitated. “…we’ve decided that your services in regard to the Euphemia situation are no longer required.”
“What?” Xanthe demanded. She looked from Brex to Rigby. “After all that we’ve done so far? How else are you going to find Euphemia?” She looked at Rigby, entreatingly. “Captain, they can’t just…”
“No,” Rigby interrupted her, staring seriously at Vess, the latter trying to read deeply into the man’s face. “There’s something else going on here.”
Vess grimaced. “We don’t need your services anymore because she…” There was a long hesitation in his voice, as Xanthe, Rigby, and Brex said nothing. Xanthe’s heartbeat began to pick up as she tried to imagine what sort of terrible news Vess was about to drop on them. Had Euphemia turned up dead? Had something terrible happened? “…she just came home. Euphemia is no longer missing.”
The words hit Xanthe like an asteroid impact, and she was thoroughly convinced she didn’t hear them accurately. Of all the scenarios she had conjured, that one wasn’t even on the list. When she went to protest, however, she found her mouth dry, and her words gone. She again exchanged glances with her companions. Even Brex’s blank face now managed to show incredulity, while Captain Rigby’s hard look had solidified.
“I apologize,” Brex began, his voice distant. “I thought I heard you say that Euphemia was back home.” He muttered, voicing what Xanthe was feeling.
Vess nodded, steeling himself for the barrage of questions he knew he was in for. “That’s right. She came back a few hours ago, safe and unharmed.”
“How?” This was from Rigby, whose grave countenance burned at Partash Vess.
Vess crossed his arms, his discomfort only mounting. “She showed up at one of the local Novaterra Security precincts. Said she was being held against her will but managed to escape. She was very shaken up about the whole thing, and tearfully apologized for causing so much distress.”
“Who was holding her?” Rigby pressed.
Vess shook his head. “Can’t say I’m too privy to the details. Senator Sethell and his wife are predictably overjoyed that she’s back, I don’t imagine they’d ask so many questions.”
Rigby’s eyes tightened. “Maybe they should start.”
“I beg your pardon?” Vess said, struck at the comment. Even Xanthe couldn’t help her surprise.
“Think about it,” Rigby continued. “We just saw one missing senator’s kid reappear just in time to assassinate an executive, and now Euphemia shows up home out of nowhere? After nobody’s heard from her in a week?”
Partash Vess’ face took on a dangerous expression. When he spoke, there was a chilling edge to his voice. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to imply, Judith, but I would advise you to stop that line of thinking immediately.” There was a long moment when Rigby and Vess just stared at each other. Nobody spoke for what seemed like an eternity, and Xanthe held her breath. Finally, Rigby relented.
“I’m not implying anything.” She said, evenly. “I just don’t trust these circumstances, and I want to understand all of the angles here and how it’s all connected.”
“Noted.” Vess was quick to chirp. “Your concern, as always, has been duly noted.”
“Now, back to Ranshal Korgwesh,” Rigby said, some little bit of her tenseness dissipating. “When did you say that his father was due to arrive? Ten hours?”
Vess checked his uplink. “At this point, a little over nine. He’s likely canceled whatever dinner event he had scheduled on Alpha Centauri.”
“You need to let me do a non-invasive autopsy.” The Captain said.
Vess’ shoulders sagged, and he suddenly looked weary. “I thought we agreed that it wasn’t possible.”
“You agreed,” Rigby countered. “I think it’s critical to know what’s going on here.” The aide rubbed his face. “Come on, Partash, think about it. Senator Korgwesh is going to want answers, and don’t you think it would look better for you if you had some to give him?”
“It doesn’t matter. Senator Kran would never allow it.”
“Maybe Senator Kran doesn’t need to know about it,” Xanthe suggested. All eyes turned to her. “…or at least, maybe you leave a message for him somewhere you know he won’t be able to pick up right away. That way, at least you warned him.” She added.
Vess’ face melted into a wide grin, as he gave her a strange look. “Now that’s a very politically savvy move.” He said. “I thought your team didn’t specialize in politics.” That one was for Rigby.
Xanthe grimaced. The thought had just sort of come to her, the sneaky nature of it only metastasizing after the words had left her mouth. She didn’t relish the idea of being compared to a politician, nor did she appreciate the moral gray area she had just stumbled into. “Captain, I didn’t…I mean, I don’t think we should lie…” She tried to amend, as quickly as she could.
“You don’t think you should like? That’s an interesting position, coming from a shapeshifter,” Vess said wryly.
Xanthe shot the man a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” First Hontaro Deckran had come at her with the anti-Quorth attitudes, and now this.
“I think I have a better idea,” Rigby said, defusing the situation. “Partash, go ahead and give Kran a call. I imagine he’ll say no, but we’ll go ahead anyway and you can tell him I elbowed you into it. That’s more or less the truth, and that way, you’ve covered yourself and I’ll take the heat.”
Vess seemed to consider it. “Might I remind you that if you defy Kran, he wouldn’t hesitate to have you arrested? After all, you aren’t exactly useful to us anymore.”
Rigby shrugged. “That depends on what we find.”
Vess was silent for a long while, as he mulled over that option. “I can’t help you if Kran isn’t satisfied.”
For the first time since before the shooting, Xanthe saw a small smile appear on the Captain’s lips. “Believe it or not Partash, I’m more than capable of getting myself out of trouble without your help.” Vess frowned sourly at that, but then acquiesced.
“Fine. You can have your doctor do the autopsy. But it’ll have to be in a medical facility of my choosing, and you have until any of Korgwesh’s people arrive to take over.”
“Agreed.”
It took exactly one hour, but Partash Vess had successfully gotten the Romanov City Constabulary to release Ranshal Korgwesh’s body into his custody, under the authority of Senator Kran. Kran’s instructions also providentially called for a specific nondescript medical clinic for the body to be held in until representatives arrived to collect it. What the instructions didn’t call for – and, as it happened, specifically prohibited – was the unsanctioned autopsy now about to begin on Ranshal Korgwesh.
Xanthe stood off to one corner of the autopsy suite, arms crossed as she bit her lip, wondering just how much trouble this was going to land the crew in. All the while she stared unthinkingly at Father Thomas, as he finished saying a prayer for the dead over Ranshal. The priest whispered his words, but Xanthe had become too intimately familiar with them to miss:
“Eternal rest grant unto him O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen”. The priest raised his hand and did the sign of the cross over the dead Parfful, Xanthe crossing herself. For a brief second, she thought past the circumstances, past all of the questions, motives, and subterfuge, and focused on the one truth that they knew: two men had died today. Murderer and murdered, both were now equal in death and facing up to their maker for what they had done. No matter what the reasons Ranshal did what he did, these prayers were necessary to help him on that journey. Xanthe prayed that the Lord would have mercy on him for this.
“Can we start now?” Vess’ impatient voice came from the opposite end of the suite, dragging Xanthe back to the task at hand. “Korgwesh may be eight hours away, but I’m sure his teams will be here much sooner.”
“Yes,” Father Thomas replied. He removed his purple stole, kissed it, and began folding it back up. “Doc, you may begin.”
“Thank you, Father,” The Irannoid replied, wasting no time in bringing a cart filled with his tools into the space vacated by the priest. First, he picked up the small palm-sized drone not unlike the one Brex had used, turning it on and letting it float into the air above the autopsy table. Immediately the drone’s camera connected to the holoscreen at the front of the suite, offering a close-up view of one segment of Ranshal’s body. Next, Doc began with a general inspection, the drone moving as he poked and prodded and different parts of the body, Xanthe wincing at the impersonal nature of the inspection.
“You’ve assembled quite the jack-of-all-trades team, I have to admit,” Vess said to Captain Rigby, who was standing just beside him. “A former assassin, a war hero, a Catholic priest, a doctor. Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.” The senate aide had to laugh at his own comment.
Father Thomas grinned. “We’ve heard that one many, many times before. Trust me.”
“From the outside, subject seems to be a healthy Parfful male, eighteen years of age. No identifying marks, except scarring consistent with the implantation of technological aids.” Doc announced. The screen briefly showed the implant scar in question, a small incision hidden in the fur below and behind his left ear. Xanthe unconsciously rubbed behind her own ear, where the similar centimeter-long scar from the insertion of her own aural implant lay.
“So, he has some implants. Nothing suspicious about that, so does everyone these days.” Vess countered.
Doc ran one of his hands across the head, checking behind the ears. “Subject also displays some contusions across the back of the head, only partially healed.” The camera image from Doc’s little drone shifted up a little, giving them all a good look of the bruising. As Doc had implied it was mostly healed, but still left a nasty dark splotch under Ranshal’s otherwise golden fur.
“Accidentally inflicted, or the result of an attack?” Rigby asked.
Doc thought for a moment. “The latter.” He replied. “Not too long ago – I’d guess a week or two – Ranshal was struck across the back of the head with a blunt object.”
“That would be consistent with a blow to render him unconscious.” Father Thomas posited.
“I’d agree.” Doc affirmed. “There are no signs of struggle or battle on his hands, so whatever struck him likely caught him by surprise before he could mount a defense. Wrists and arms contain abrasions – much newer than the contusions – thus suggesting he was restrained more recently.”
Xanthe’s considered that. “That sounds a lot like a kidnapping.”
“Which could preclude that his disappearance was of his own doing,” Father Thomas nodded, finishing the implication of Xanthe’s thought.
“Though he seemed willing and sure of himself on that rooftop. I can’t imagine anyone was forcing him to do that.” Xanthe pointed out recalling that calm bit about the mountains Ranshal had said to her. She was then reminded of what Rigby had said in the holding cell, about the voices he had complained about. Could he have been mentally disturbed?
“And to point which the Captain brought up earlier, even a fully willing person would struggle to make such an accurate shot,” Brex said.
“What about his fur?” Rigby asked. “Are there any fibers or traces of elements which would suggest where Ranshal may have been recently?”
Doc shook his head. “He seems to have gone to great lengths to thoroughly clean himself before the shooting. There aren’t any traces that wouldn’t be uncommon with the case as you’ve described it, save the plasma residue under his fingernails.”
“And that’s just from the weapon he fired. No clues there.” Xanthe said.
“What about his body chemistry? Is there anything strange there?” Rigby asked.
Doc hit a few buttons on his holopad, to which his drone responded by rising several more meters over the table. It then emitted a transparent sheet of green light, which slowly swept up and down Ranshal’s body. All the while, the image on the holoscreen had switched to a series of charts and graphs of various elements which the scan found in the body, along with the percent of their composition.
“All of the major elements seem stable; Oxygen, Carbon, Hydrogen, and Nitrogen. The latter two are a bit higher than average, but that’s not terribly uncommon in the Parfful body. His blood levels seem normal and don’t contain any unnatural substances.”
“So that rules out any kind of drug-induced methods,” Xanthe replied. There were reports that some criminal groups used drugs to make innocents susceptible to suggestion and even get them to commit petty crimes they wouldn’t normally do, but even without the check knew that this attack was too precise to have been that.
“Maybe there was some sort of psychic mind control in use here,” Vess added, derisively. “Perhaps a Ruutharii Prophet is on holiday here and decided to have a little fun with the locals.” Xanthe shot the man a nasty look. While it was common knowledge that the Ruutharii species had a refined precognitive psychic ability, the Ruutharii Prophets – the mysterious lieutenants of the horned species’ god-ruler The Ascendant – were rumored to have some sort of advanced psychic powers, such as mind control. That was mere speculation, however, nobody able to do a real study on the notoriously xenophobic and isolationist species. “Perhaps that’s the cause of those ‘voices’ you claim he was complaining about?” In the time it took for Doc and Father Thomas to arrive, Rigby had explained the things Ranshal had muttered to her before he died, including the bit about the voices. Vess’ attitude towards that was clear from his mockery.
“Two men are dead,” Xanthe reminded him. “I hardly think that jokes are warranted.”
“This is absurd and a waste of time,” Vess countered. “I’m merely highlighting that.” He checked his uplink. “Judith, Korgwesh’s people will be here soon. Could we wrap this up sooner rather than later?”
“We aren’t finished, yet.” Rigby replied, evenly. “Doc, can you do an electromagnetic scan?”
“I can,” Doc replied, again hitting a few buttons on his pad as the drone’s green scanning ray turned orange. The graphs and charts on the holoscreen vanished.
Vess rolled his eyes. “Might I remind you that this will be on you, not on me if you’re caught?”
Rigby nodded, impatiently. “It was my suggestion; you don’t have to remind me.”
“Scan shows a single series of implants, BroarTech Model SS-98 Aural Implant.” The screen showed a close-up three dimensional of Ranshal’s head, revealing the skull and the shielded circuitry of the implant nestled just against the bone where the ear would be. “Operation seems normal.” The image on the screen turned to show a full view of the implant.
Vess heaved a sigh. “Like I said; nothing suspicious there.”
“Wait,” Brex, who had been mostly silent as he studied the holoscreen, jumped up suddenly. “What’s that?”
“What?” Doc asked.
“That!” Brex insisted, stabbing one of his bony fingers at the monitor. “On the left side of the implant; just above the base of the neck.” His tone showed that whatever it was, the anomaly seemed obvious to him.
Xanthe squinted hard at the screen, trying to make any sense of what she was seeing. She’d tinkered with handheld communication devices a few times – mostly under the Proximan’s watchful gaze – but knew next to nothing about implants. She had one inside of her own head but wouldn’t have known the first thing about what it should or should not have looked like. “I don’t see anything,” She insisted.
“It’s right there;” Brex persisted, still waving his finger at the screen. “Doc, can you increase the magnification on the lower region of the implant? Just below where the ear would be?” He did just that, as the requested portion of the image grew in size, giving them an even bigger picture of technology Xanthe couldn’t understand.
“What are we looking for, Brex?” Rigby asked, stepping closer to the screen.
“Right there; do you see that small rectangle-shaped object? Sticking out from the bottom of the implant?” Xanthe had to follow the Captain’s lead and step closer to the screen in order to make out what Brex was indicating, even at that magnification. The metallic implant itself was small; barely a centimeter in full width, and the object that Brex was indicating was a fraction of that. The object stuck out a few millimeters from the bottom of the implant, the other end likely hooked into some hardware on the implant’s main circuit board.
“That’s really small,” She offered. “You saw that from across the room, at the lowest magnification?” Brex didn’t so much as twitch in her direction, nor did he respond. Xanthe knew she shouldn’t have been surprised; when it came to tech, Brex was as eagle-eyed as they came.
“It’s a spare battery pack, isn’t it?” Father Thomas asked. “All BroarTech models come with a slot for an auxiliary power backup, in case the internal regenerative battery gets damaged; it allows for a relatively minor reparative surgery instead of a full removal and replacement of the whole implant.” Xanthe next stared at the priest with surprise, before remembering that he too had a background in such technologies.
“It’s using the auxiliary battery slot, yes.” Brex agreed. “But the shape is wrong. Auxiliary battery packs from BroarTech are cylindrical. That object is quadrangular.”
“So?” Partash Vess commented. He hadn’t moved from his spot like the rest had, but was staring squint-eyed at the screen, nonetheless. “I’m sure plenty of aftermarket companies make their own in all kinds of different shapes and sizes.”
“Brex has a point; BroarTech is very particular about their implants,” Father Thomas added, scratching his beard thoughtfully. “They’re designed in a way that they can only be modified in specific company-run facilities, that way they can ensure that only their certified technology is used.”
“Which means,” Rigby continued for Vess’ benefit. The man still looked confused as to the significance. “There would be no aftermarket model getting installed into this implant. Legally.”
“Which means that Ranshal’s implant was hacked to get around the security measures, then loaded with an off-brand cartridge,” Xanthe said, the understanding beginning to dawn on her. “Given we now know he was likely knocked unconscious and strapped down somewhere, it’s also likely this was done unwillingly.”
Vess frowned. “Okay, so let me grant for one second that what you’re saying is true, and someone hacked his implant and all of that. Why install a secondary battery pack?” He looked to Doc. “Didn’t you just say that the implant was working normally? Without a faulty battery?”
“I did,” Doc agreed. “But that’s assuming this unknown device is an auxiliary battery.”
Vess rubbed his face. “You’ve lost me.”
“Think about it this way,” Father Thomas turned to him. “Congress Hall is a closed building, right? Only certain people are allowed in and out at certain times, and different entrances only allow specific types of authorized personnel in and out.”
“Okay,” Vess said. “I fail to see how that’s related.”
The priest continued. “The building is also linked to the Novaterra sewer system, and that entrance is only for the transfer of utilities and waste to and from the building. Now, let’s say the security integrity of Congress Hall gets breached, and someone manages to use the sewer system to start smuggling restricted information inside and out. Just like that, this battery port could have been circumvented, allowing it to function in a way other than its intended purpose.”
A mischievous smile came to Vess’ lips. “That’s a pretty colorful metaphor coming from a priest.”
Father Thomas gave him a sheepish grin. “I’ve used several sewer systems as methods of escape in my day. One can’t exactly be picky when the Ruutharii are on your trail.”
“Fair enough,” Vess replied. He still looked confused, but some of it began to melt away. “Okay I think I get what you’re saying. You think someone hijacked this battery port to transmit information from that device to the implant?”
“Exactly,” Brex agreed.
“To what end?”
“That would depend on the information present on the device,” Brex answered. “I would need to examine it to learn more.” At that same time, Xanthe caught Father Thomas suddenly step away, leaving the room.
“Which would necessitate extracting the implant,” Doc pointed out. Xanthe winced as she saw Vess’ face light up.
“Oh no!” He cried, suddenly. “We agreed this would be non-invasive!”
“Don’t you want to know what happened here?” Xanthe asked. The feverish shaking of Vess’ head was answer enough.
“I cannot allow this; if there is truly something to find here, I can pass it off to one of our own professionals.” He insisted.
Xanthe frowned, frustrated with this man and his political procedure. “Even if this thing has something to do with why Ranshal Korgwesh just assassinated an executive?” She demanded. That hung between them briefly before another unwelcome thought came to mind. “I wonder if Euphemia Sethell has an aural implant.” The thought and implication weren’t very well thought through, but her own words gave Xanthe a foreboding feeling all the same. As if to compound the feeling, she saw Father Thomas re-enter, a troubled look on his face. He walked up to Captain Rigby’s side and began whispering something in her ear.
There was little time to acknowledge that, however, as Vess’ ire was struck. “That’s the second time someone here has made a dangerous assertion like that. Judith, I’d encourage you to tell your friend to watch her mouth.”
“Captain,” Xanthe started, holding Partash Vess in a hard scowl. “Can you tell your friend that he’s putting Euphemia’s life and the life of who knows how many others in jeopardy if he doesn’t let us take a look at that implant?”
“Xanthe, stand down.” Rigby said softly, holding up a hand. Taken aback, Xanthe looked to the woman.
“What?” She asked. “Captain, we have to…”
“Partash is right. We agreed to keep this autopsy non-invasive, and it’ll only cause more trouble for us if we go trying to remove it.” Rigby explained.
“An acceptable price to pay to figure out what’s going on here!” Xanthe insisted.
“We can let this one go,” The Captain persisted. “We have…other leads.” That gained both Xanthe and Partash Vess’ combined interest.
“What other leads?” Xanthe asked.
“Tobias just called in. Apparently, he and Aves were set upon by a squadron of fighters after…completing their last task.” Rigby replied, her eyes momentarily flicking to Vess as she hesitated on speaking too openly about the last part.
Xanthe’s eyes widened in fear. “Are they okay?”
“They’re perfectly fine, thank the Lord,” Father Thomas added. “But they do have a few new bits of information for us.”
“Praise be Jesus Christ,” Xanthe exhaled, relieved at the first half of that news.
“What information?” Vess cut in, a suspicion in his eyes.
Rigby turned a casual look on him. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Partash. This is strictly Nicodemus business.”
“Don’t give me that,” Vess insisted. “I’m the one who hired you for this job. I’d appreciate being kept in the loop on things.”
Rigby shrugged. “I seem to remember you telling me that our role in this is over now that Euphemia is back. So, I don’t believe we are working for you, anymore.”
Vess opened his mouth to respond, before processing Rigby’s words. He froze, shutting his mouth as his face began to light up red with frustration. “What are you playing at?”
“That’s confidential,” Xanthe added, a wide grin splayed across her face. Vess only scowled, knowing that he had been outmaneuvered.
“Doc, start packing up your things; we need to get back to the ship as soon as possible. There’s a lot to do, and very little time to do it.” Rigby said. “And Partash, thanks for your help here; I’m sure I’ll be in touch if I need your help for anything else.”
