ACT 3
The doctor reformed. Xenaxian biology was based on quantum entanglement. “Dr. Oct’s” reference body was safely stored on Xenax, as was custom for his lineage. This genomic transport structure combined with their inordinate life-spans estranged them from the concept of death. The only true danger to the Traveling Body was glucose collapse. Rare and non-fatal.
Medical Bay
Maripol sat on the foot of a patient bed. The doctor sat a few meters away at his desk, studying a large embedded screen. Occasionally, one of his eyes would wonder over to her while she spoke. Tham paced a triangulated patrol between them and the primary surgery bed.
A sunset yellow light throbbed along the wall against the ceiling, LED crown molding. Yellow meant neutral status. The two investigators gave Dr. Oct a few minutes of silence, assuming he was studying pertinent results. Finally, after a trio of dings from his screen, both of his eyes looked up.
“It’s finished!” He proclaimed.
“What did you find, doctor?”
“I ordered lunch!”
Tham stopped his patrol and patiently looked at Dr. Oct. Maripol showed less patience from her seat.
“Only kidding.” He scratched at a peeling orange spot on his head. Residue from rapid regeneration.
He continued, “I confirmed the nature of Stasis Fluid Toxicity in general studies to ensure they match my own findings.”
“Which method of injection do you postulate was used to terminate the Lieutenant?” Tham asked the doctor.
“Perhaps none.” The doctor rested his chin in a hand, returning his eyes to the screen.
“I don’t follow.” Maripol chimed in. The smell of isopropyl alcohol was beginning to make her sick. She eyed the exit.
“The capillaries were exposed to it at room temperature, but there were two to three hours between potential intoxication and the force wound.” The doctor responded.
“Meaning the initial encounter may not have been fatal.” Tham resumed his patrol.
Maripol thought of the captain hanging up on her once she had confessed his status as a person of interest. Before her nerves could recenter she looked toward Tham and thought of the ship’s intelligence reporting his accessing the Stasis Antechamber at 0100. Three hours before Lieutenant Gray’s purported death.
Tham met her gaze. After a moment he snapped his gun holster shut, the gun was still nestled inside. He was pretending to forget the order to relinquish it, or he had decided given the armed intruder that the order was irrelevant. Maripol made a mental note to excuse herself from the conversation soon in order to equip an ordnance herself.
“Miriel,” Tham spoke to the ship’s computing intellect. “Have you recorded the previous hour of events adjacent to and within the Medical Bay?”
“Confirmed.” It responded.
“What form of teleportation was used by the figure wielding the odd rifle?”
“No teleportation was detected.”
“Explain.” He ordered.
“The figure was holographic in nature. Electromagnetic fields were utilized to simulate a projectile of 2 MJ.”
“Miriel, report every incident in which this holographic figure has appeared on board.” Maripol asked.
“0100 hours this Shift Cycle. 0400 hours this Shift Cycle. 1124 hours this Shift Cycle.”
The hair on Maripol’s arms raised. The frisson penetrated her skin and sunk into her bones as the nerves started to numb with her hot pulse. Trembling hands gripped her pants tightly in an attempt to disguise it. She intentionally avoided looking in Tham’s direction.
“Do these encounters match your findings, doctor?” Tham asked, approaching the doctor’s desk and laying a hand on it.
“Quite precisely, yes.” He responded.
“Was there evidence in the lieutenant’s body of stasis beyond the cardiac vascularities?”
“As you know, Stasis Fluid is fatal to humans without rigorous maintenance. For this reason, stasis procedures must evaporate all compounds meticulously.”
“So, there would traditionally be no evidence.” Tham finished the doctor’s thought.
“Correct.”
“Miriel, did you receive an order to isolate Lieutenant Gray’s cardiac muscle during a Stasis Evaporation Sequence?” Tham asked the ship.
“Due to privacy laws, Stasis Chamber Intelligence and broader ship systems are prohibited from sharing sensor data.” Miriel responded in her calm, serious tone.
“Miriel, emergency teleport me to the Stasis Antechamber.” Miriel ordered suddenly.
“Clearance required.”
“Abecedarium Lunfardo.” She muttered in response.
Maripol disappeared into a silhouette of electric blue light. The light rapidly decayed, leaving no trace. Tham’s eyebrow crooked up.
“Doctor, I would like to see your scans of the body.” Tham requested.
Stasis Antechamber
Maripol arrived blind. After a moment of resisting the urge to rub her eyes, she could see clearly again.
“First Officer Maripol, welcome.” An ensign stood behind a tall console just outside of the main chamber. She corrected her posture and moved an unseen hand against the console’s screen.
The antechamber was made almost entirely of glass. Pastel blue stripes invaded the room from the hallway, the color code to find this system. Maripol walked across the loud metal floor. White tiles freckled with black paint. She walked up to the ensign, smiling with tightly pressed lips.
“Are you the only person on this shift?”
“Yes, sir.” She responded professionally.
“Who was assigned here overnight?”
“I can look, give me a moment, sir.”
“That’s fine, I need to access anyway.” Maripol waved a hand before continuing, “I’ll need the room.”
“Yes, sir.” Barbara nodded and walked around the console, “I’ll wait for your word to return to duty.” She said. Maripol nodded in response.
Maripol grabbed her palm-sized tablet and rested against the large console. She tapped the third option on the home screen. A dialogue appeared requiring further consent. Maripol tapped the screen, the console and her device pinged in synchronization.
“Miriel, create a local agent for data aggregation.”
“Created.” Miriel spoke from her Palm. A new instantiation was now ready to analyze and travel with her.
“Is there evidence of log alteration during the last two shift cycles?”
“Classified.” Her Palm read out.
“Override.” Maripol ordered.
“Denied. Classified.” Miriel spoke.
“Captain Rengel is officially a suspect in an ongoing murder investigation. I am assuming auxiliary authority over ship’s logs as of this moment.”
“Confirming investigatory claims.” Miriel responded.
“Is there evidence of log alteration?”
“Confirming investigatory claims.”
Teal blue LED lights ran in circles across the walls at floor and ceiling height. Maripol waited in the soft humming of processing alerts.
“No active investigations found. Access denied. Your attempt to bypass protocols has been logged. Further attempts will be reported to ship leadership.”
Maripol offered a seething “TSK.” and grabbed her Palm with both hands. She scrolled through screens until she found the captain’s procedural orders. The subject line now read “Ruling out foul play.” and the body of text was [REMOVED].
“Miriel, I need to file an urgent report to SCIS.”
“Report transmission is impossible during FTL travel.” The ship responded.
“I order an emergency halt of propulsion systems.”
“Informing Helm of new orders.”
“No!” Maripol yelled at the tiny screen.
Seconds later, Maripol heard the soft *click* of the antechamber main doors as they locked. She sprinted toward the Stasis Chamber, crashing a fist into the chamber door as it attempted to close on her. A streak of blood remained on the polished polycarbonate. Then, the dreaded *click*.
“Miriel, emergency teleport-” She scoured her brain for a safe place before finishing the order.
“Denied. Teleport systems are currently restricted.”
Maripol pulled her phone out. She gambled, deciding to call Tham.
“Level 3 force fields prevent phonographic transmission.”
“Remove local force fields.” Maripol ordered with fury and fear.
“Force fields dissipated.” The Palm spoke. Maripol’s eyes were wet with relief.
“Unlock the do-”
Maripol was interrupted by familiar blue glitch particles to her left. The holographic figure appeared. She stood in an antiquated spacesuit. Her orange visor was closed in mission position. The rifle was already positioned in Maripol’s direction.
“Disrupt hologram!” Maripol yelled.
Right as the trigger finger pulled back, purple static ran across the figure. Violet lightning ate away at the figure, a hungry snake. It was gone in less than a second. Maripol fell on her butt to spare shaking knees.
“Miriel, unlock this f—ing door.”
“Access denied. Emergency quarantine protocols in place.”
“Can a hologram be generated within a level 2 force field?”
“Not within a zone which cannot generate said protocol.”
“Reassert recent force fields at one tier lower.” Ordered with a sigh of reluctance. She hoped the low powered barriers would allow a call out.
Maripol finally relinquished her piercing stare at the now empty spot in the room. She observed her surroundings. This was her first experience with this ship’s Stasis Chamber. 70 pods were stacked in vertical rows, up to the ceiling. Their metal frames were painted cobalt. Pastel blues of the Stasis Zone colored the rest of the devices. Only the bottom row was backlit. The rest had blacked out screens where you would normally see a resting figure during occupation.
The floor was made of black rubber matting dotted with raised cylinders. Maripol attempted to discern their purpose as she carefully crossed the room toward the pods. Her phone dinged and vibrated. She pulled it out and read the name, semi-holographic, it was glitching heavily in the bounded zone. Captain Rengel. *click*
“Captain.” Serious, curt.
“Release the force field. Now.” He growled.
Maripol tapped the mechanism to close the phone, ending the call. She re-holstered it and returned to the Palm Screen.
“Miriel, would it be possible for Security Officer Tham to override my privileges. Particularly, in regards to log editing?”
“Yes.” Miriel responded. Warm, empty, unaware.
“Who else on board maintains such a privilege?”
“Captain Rengel and Chief Security Officer Tham can alter and obfuscate log editing outside of your permissible rank, according to standard protocols.”
“Perfect.” Maripol lamented. “Access inner Stasis Chamber systems.”
“Accessed.” The Palm auto-scrolled to a new screen of buttons.
“How was Lieutenant Gray’s evaporation process altered?”
“Lieutenant Gray was likely administratively teleported from this chamber before evaporation protocols were completed.”
“Which admin?”
“Log redacted.”
“When?”
“Log redacted.”
“Miriel.” Maripol said, her tongue dripped with finality. She continued, “Is there an isolated cardiac muscle, saturated in Stasis Fluid, on board?”
“Confirmed.”
Helm
Captain Rengel attempted not to grab at his face while in the Captain’s Chair. He squirmed uncomfortably, glowering.
“Progress report.” He said to the room at large.
Communications Officer Brant rolled his chair around and pulled at his collar nervously, “Engineering isn’t responding.”
Captain Rengel’s eyes went wide with diminished sanity.
“Miriel!” He yelled, looking generically upward.
“Reboot in progress. Please wait.” An automated male voice spoke over the PA system, littered with artifact.
Rengel angrily grabbed a tablet on his left armrest. “Call Chief Engineer Dyess.”
The screen went blank, then reset to its homepage. Rengel gripped it tight enough to crack a corner. This caused the device to fully blackout. Rengel imagined throwing it hard enough to break something. He refrained, barely.
Medical Bay
“Commander Tham, I don’t think-” The doctor started.
“Your protests have been noted, doctor.” Tham interjected.
He was using his force-gun at full power, firing on the northwest corner of the Medical Bay. Perfectly transparent charge hit the corner of the field and caused an electrical static to burst into nonsensical noise, causing the barrier to shimmer. It persisted. The doctor closed his ears at the inexplicable sound of high force against an electromagnetic field. It was a furious WOOF diminishing into an electronic shriek.
“The barrier persists. These force fields are higher than grade 2. Our captor is of commander rank, the minimum to erect level 3 fields in a non-catastrophic emergency.” Tham concluded audibly for the doctor’s benefit.
“Fascinating.” The doctor commented. The eager bulb of an eye trained on Tham.
“Miriel, list commanders on staff.” Tham ordered.
“Captain Rengel, Staff Commander Maripol, Security Commander Tham, Engineering Commander Dyess, Medical Director Octofilliampeondre, Astronomic Director July. List complete.”
“Remove the force fields around Medical Bay.”
“Denied.”
“Security override F-E-X-9-S-Asterisk-X-32941.”
The doctor tapped something on his console. Tham was facing away, still scowling at the corner he had shot.
“Denied, ship contagion anomaly reported.”
“The report is falsified. Run diagnostic.”
“Removing force fields.”
The walls shimmered like old TV noise before dissipating completely. Tham turned around to face the doctor directly while he spoke,
“Miriel, who reported the ship contagion anomaly?”
“Dr. Octofilliampeondre.”
Tham’s steady stare bore a hole in the doctor’s own focus.
“Miriel, erect level 3 force field around Medical Bay under my authority.” The doctor ordered.
“Security override.” Tham responded. He gripped his weapon.
“Medical override. Non-sensory compatible contagion quarantine.”
“False report, security override.”
“Denied.” Miriel responded to Tham. The barriers flashed on.
The doctor suddenly dropped his bubbly demeanor,
“Godspeed, Maripol.”
Stasis Chamber
Maripol stared down at the stiff frozen heart. She stood at a wall of storage containers, like a matrix of dresser drawers. They were all painted with the same muted blue. Privacy laws prevented her from accessing the drawer the heart had been hidden inside, so she had broken the cover plate with great effort.
Maripol held the Palm Tablet to the heart without making direct contact.
“Scan and record.” She ordered.
“Confirmed.” Miriel spoke from the small device.
Maripol sighed through a lip trill.
“Is there anything particularly unusual about this heart?” She asked.
“Synthetic organ detected. Cell scaffolds indicate printing. Arterial saturation gradients of Stasis Fluid indicate scheduled occlusion.”
“Scheduled?”
“Lieutenant Gray is recorded as having been teleported mid-evaporation cycle. The gradient of Stasis Fluid density is molecularly defined by three clear borders. Had an accidental teleportation occurred, the density would have a single imprecise border between densities.”
“So, in effect, you teleported him via a previously scheduled protocol?”
“Assessing…” A tense silence. “Indeterminable.” Miriel reported.
“Did Lieutenant Gray have a synthetic heart?”
“Accessing personnel database.” Miriel made a few clicking noises. “Lieutenant Gray boarded this vessel for Shift Cycle 1 with a biologically sound, organic heart.”
“Okay.” Maripol said to herself. “Palm, create a one meter holographic screen on this adjacent wall.” She set the Palm Screen on the floor while it formulated a projection. “Now, aggregate our evidence on this screen.”
The screen text began to write, half-erase, and rewrite phrases into bullet points. As the document was organized, it read:
Shift Cycle 1:
1200: Assigned officer Ensign Dallas accesses the Stasis Antechamber.
1400: Captain Rengel accesses the Stasis Antechamber, unscheduled.
Shift Cycle 2:
0100 Security Chief Commander Tham accesses the Stasis Antechamber, unscheduled. This log is contested by: Security Chief Tham.
0400 Lieutenant Gray: Deceased; Heart extracted via teleportation protocol.
0600 Standard Shift Cycle Scans discover the Lieutenant’s body in an engineering duct. A force wound with friction burns indicating 2MJ of force is remarked at this time. Ship systems teleport Lt. Gray to Medical Bay.
0700 A summary report of this incident is transmitted to Captain Rengel at Helm.
0800 [Log redacted]
Circumstances:
(Maripol speaks to the Palm, causing this portion of the holo-screen to organize into further evidence.)
Tham refused to relinquish his weapon once implicated as a suspect.
Rengel abruptly ended the call when ordered to return to station, being informed of his own implication.
The effectively immortal doctor was fired on by a hologram capable of 2MJ projectiles.
I was locked in the antechamber.
Force fields were erected around primary Stasis Chamber.
I removed the barriers and was targeted by the holographic assailant.
Rengel calls, insisting I remove the field.
Maripol stared at the evidenciary screen for a few silent minutes.
“Miriel, draw conclusions.” Maripol muttered, defeated.
“Deductions are as follows:
The primary motive appears to be acquiring an organic human heart. The artificial heart was likely placed to disguise this motive.
The hologram appears to be automated.
Dr. Octofilliampeondre seems to have erected force barriers simultaneously at Medical Bay, Stasis Zone, and Helm. Given this context, this is likely to protect your investigation from primary suspects while shielding you from the hologram, temporarily.
Captain Rengel’s inability to correct this entrapment indicates a reduced chance of being the primary culprit.
Simulation of investigatory conclusion: Chief Security Officer Commander Tham as primary suspect.”
“So the captain was telling me to take down a force field at Helm. He must’ve thought I escalated things after denying my orders.” Maripol realized. “So, where is Lieutenant Gray’s actual heart?”
“Log redacted.”
“Locate it.”
“Scans indicate no disembodied cardiac muscles.”
“Reference his medical records, look for any reason why someone would want his heart.” Maripol ordered.
“Due to a congenital imperfection, Lieutenant Gray received a Nanite Protocol in early childhood. These highly sensitive sensory apparatuses report a stream of genomic data. Entities within one meter have their genome and primary genetic statuses reported in auxiliary reports. A known error, corrected by separating but not fully redacting sensor data. An individual wanting to hide their identity from official reports would seek to eliminate this threat. A species without this technology might want to keep the organ in order to reverse engineer it.”
“Can you scan crewmen at the DNA level?”
“Yes, however, due to the microscopic nature of the scan, aggregating data over time is necessary to ensure accuracy.”
“How much time?”
“Approximately one minute for a moving figure.”
“When the force fields are removed, begin scanning all commanders.”
Medical Bay
The doctor was amiable, but no fool. He had scanned Tham and Maripol’s genetic data via silent control schema when they initially entered the Medical Bay. He had erected barriers in Engineering and Helm in case of co-conspirators.
“Was it just for a trophy?” The doctor stood proud and tall, speaking with confidence.
“Is this an accusation?”
“How far did you think you would get before being thoroughly scanned? Honestly…” The doctor chided.
“I’ll be arriving home shortly.” Tham responded, breaking character.
“Home?”
“Goodbye, Doctor.” Tham said, firing force directly to the doctor’s head.
Once the body plopped over, Tham approached the console. He first analyzed a detailed report of the doctor’s findings. After downloading them to his own Palm, he removed the logs.
Tham fired another round into the regenerating mess. Then, he went about the messy business of dragging it toward the Morgue slots, stopping every few seconds to cause another pseudo-fatal wound. Tham squeezed the ill-formed doctor into Morgue Slot #2, securing the lock.
He returned to the Medical Bay Console and went about the tedium of clearing flags in order to allow for dissipation of the emergency barriers. Tham’s hands and back exploded into sweat as the thought occurred to him to check for transmissions of the doctor’s findings. A human adrenal response he would not miss. He thought longingly of his natural insectoid form. Dry, clean, rigid.
Once the fields were disabled he multi-called Kay and Gretchen. He sent a simple text messsage, “Mission compromised, remove Helm crew.”
Red flashing windows popped up on the Medical Terminal, reports of injuries and fatalities scrolled rapidly down the screen. Tham observed the data with a blank expression. Both agents had been destroyed in the attempt, but Kay had already exited FTL and booted up an escape pod immediately before the assault.
The screen glitched, information appeared then was replaced by new status messages. The home screen for the Medical Console appeared, as if it had been reset. Tham regarded this with suspicion but had no time to dwell. The escape pod was on this level, but between the lift and Medical Bay. Kay had primed one between their positions.
Tham sprinted from the room and toward escape, before having to turn back. He had nearly forgotten the heart. He scolded himself in insect curses, after all of this effort he had nearly gone home empty-handed. He opened Morgue Slot #7. Inside was a transparent cube akin to glass. Suspended inside was the fresh heart, containing precious human technology.
By the time Tham returned to the main Medical Bay doors, Maripol flashed in brilliant blue lights at the threshold, blocking him. Tham raised his force-gun and fired without hesitation. The transparency of force caused a minute glimmer of light around the points of impact in her face with no further effect.
He stepped back. Concerned. Analyzing. Once he could see the wider perspective, the orange visor of an old spacesuit could be seen. Hidden behind Maripol’s own hologram. The reprogrammed assassin hologram fired, leaving a burning hole in Tham’s chest.
Stasis Chamber
Maripol sat on a bench in the chamber. She was studying the emitted screen, several windows were displayed. She was actively tracking Dr. Oct’s vitals, Tham’s and the heat signature changes in a 2D map of the room. Tham’s thermal signature indicated he was approaching the door. Two new windows projected onto the screen. Heavily altered holographic protocols.
“Idiot.” She said, deep and crackling. Tham’s tracked vitals displayed a diagnosis of termination. “Miriel, end holograms.”
[Image credit: Mikhail Nilov]
Loved the mystery sci-fi overlap. So well done! I didn't guess right, but I loved how I was wrong...
Wow! This was legit sci-fi. Well done! A proper whodunnit. I loved it.