Dead Man on the Moon (12 page)

"We have a report of a suspicious
death,"
Linus corrected. "Down by one of the fish farms. I have a deputy on it. He's interviewing the victim right now."

"This makes two deaths in two days,"
Mayor-President Pandey said.

"Technically, it's the
discovery
of two deaths in two days," Linus replied. "The first one happened some time ago."

Pandey waved a hand, dismissing the distinction.
"What matters is how it appears on the news services. It's already coming across like we are experiencing a tidal wave of crime on Luna City."

Uh oh. Only an idiot would have missed the tension in that last statement. "I haven't checked the services, Madam Mayor-President," Linus said carefully. "We're working hard to resolve both matters."

"Work harder, Linus"
Pandey responded.
"I want these cases cleared by the end of the week."

"Ma'am? You have to know that you can't rush police work. Sometimes a case clears quickly, sometimes it takes weeks. We don't drag our feet on purpose or because we're lazy."

Pandey pursed her lips.
"I'm under a lot of pressure here, Linus. Roger Davids and I are in delicate negotiations with Comvilla and Viamar. They're both interested in opening outlets here in Luna City and greatly expanding Tourist Town. At their own expense."

"I see," Linus said slowly. He recognized the names, of course. Comvilla and Viamar were entertainment conglomerates that owned and oversaw dozens of smaller entertainment companies. They produced films (both flat and three-dimensional), virtual-reality games, onboard plug-ins, news services, books, and more. Tourist Town was the local nickname for the entertainment sector of Luna City. It was actually fairly extensive, with a casino, three theaters, a tiny amusement park, and some low-gravity game areas. A handful of well-heeled tourists came and went, spending money Luna City was all too happy to snatch up. Students
and University personnel, of course, used the place at reduced rates, though only the fools set foot in the casino.

"This isn't public knowledge yet,"
Pandey said, leaning forward,
"but Comvilla is negotiating to buy the Loony Casino. Viamar wants to expand the amusement park, and both of them want to set up recording facilities for games and vid-feeds. They've also agreed to pay for more housing. I hardly need to tell you what all this would do for Luna City's debts."

Linus nodded, beginning to understand. Fifteen years ago, when Luna City had been known merely as Luna Base, primary funding had been provided by the European Union and China. The United States, which was focusing on Mars and unmanned exploration of the outer planets, only got on board when the project was nearly completed.

The research base made two important discoveries. First, a fair amount of ice turned up in the substrata. Second, lots and lots of scientists wanted to study on the moon.

The first discovery was duly relayed back to Terra. Sueyin Dai, the base commander, made note of the second discovery but didn't make waves about it. Instead, she began quietly amassing a long waiting list of people who would climb over their own mothers to spend a month researching on Luna. She also bullied several scientists-in-residence into holding back on patenting and publishing of some of their discoveries, specifically those involving microgravity genetic manipulation and medicine production.

At that time, Luna Base answered to a combined European Union, Chinese, and United States council. Dai petitioned for control of Luna Base to be transferred to the United Nations on the basis that three countries were already trying to govern it and more countries were trying to get involved. Putting it under the control of the UN only made sense.

Fortunately for Dai, the world economy had recently taken a serious downturn. The Luna Base was expensive to maintain, and money was short. It only took two years for Luna Base to be cut loose, on the condition that it pay back
its parent countries. This, the parent countries thought, would ensure Luna Base would remain under their control, but without the attendant financial headaches.

That was when the scientists on Luna Base published their findings and filed their patents. A steady stream of money trickled in, enough to keep Luna Base going, but not enough to make the mortgage payments. Dai then revealed the next stage of her plan—establishing Luna University. Instead of accepting only a handful of scientists, Luna Base would now bring up hundreds, even thousands, of researchers and students—
if they
could pay. And people somehow scraped up the cash. Tuition and grant money poured in. Now, fifteen years later, Luna Base, renamed Luna City, was within five years of achieving full independence.

If
it paid off its debts. An expanded tourist trade would bring in a great deal of tax and tariff money, making that five-year goal even more realistic.

"One of the big selling points of our negotiations,"
Mayor-President Pandey said,
"is the low crime rate. But now we have one definite murder and one possible murder in two days. This is not good, Linus. Roger and I need those cases cleared and we need them cleared
now."

Linus felt his temper rise. "I can clear them now or I can clear them right, ma'am," he said evenly.

"Do both,"
Pandey replied in a crisp voice.
"I want twice-daily reports on your progress, is that clear?"

It was on the tip of Linus's tongue to snarl at her, but two things held him in check. The first was Marine discipline— you didn't snap at a superior—and the second was his own vulnerability. Like it or not, his job rested solely in the hands of Mayor-President Pandey. If she didn't like him, she could replace him anytime she liked. It wouldn't be difficult to find a dozen police brass from Earth who would jump at the chance to be Chief of Security for Luna City. And then where would Linus be? He started to rub his chest, then forced his hand back into his lap.

"We'll do our best, Madam Mayor-President," he said instead. "I'll send you my first report within the hour."

Mayor-President Ravi Pandey nodded and terminated the connection.

Linus phoned Noah for an update on the new case.

"I'm just finishing with the victim's interview,"
the kid said.
"I've processed his body and I'm gathering his clothes now."

Linus duly dictated this into a report for the computer to transcribe and combined it with what he, Karen, and Noah had uncovered in the first investigation so far. His temper, hot in the cold room, remained in firm check. Pandey was the boss. If she wanted a report every ten minutes, it was her prerogative to demand one. But every moment he spent in this kind of stupidity was a moment spent away from the investigation.

He got up and paced around his office while he talked to the computer. The holographic mountain stream trickled along its icy shore, wending its way among rocks and melting snow.

"...
Fang is still working on fixing a time of death. We're hoping the victim's onboard will provide us with

Blah blah blah. A sudden longing filled Linus, and he tapped the window twice as he talked. The scene wavered, shifted, and morphed into a small white house set amid a dozen others almost just like it. The image was taken from a high angle, as if the camera were at the top of a building. A young maple tree stood guard in the center of the front yard, and clumps of tired-looking winter snow clung stubbornly to shady areas. A late morning sun shone overhead, and Linus imagined it looked warmer than it felt. Even as he watched, an athletic-looking woman trotted down the sidewalk in front of the house. She had short honey-blond hair, and was jogging behind a large-wheeled stroller. Linus's words trailed off. The woman parked the jogging stroller on the front porch, lifted a baby from the inside, and disappeared into the house.

"Do you wish to save, continue, or delete?" asked the computer.

Linus didn't answer, and the computer repeated the question with perfect patience. "Continue," he said, and tapped the window twice. It morphed back into the mountain stream, and he finished the report in a firm, no-nonsense voice. Then, with firm, no-nonsense steps, he left his office, strode past the two clerks and one deputy in the common area of the security office, and began walking. He was standing outside the studio of Julia Espinoza before he realized exactly where had been walking. Linus knocked on the door as if he had intended to come here from the beginning.

The door jerked open and Dr. Espinoza glared out at him. The smell of coffee wafted through the hall. "Good. You got my message. Come in."

Message? Linus checked his wristwatch display. It was flashing that he had missed a call from Julia Espinoza and that he had a message from her. It had probably come in while Linus was dictating the report. He had been so preoccupied, he hadn't noticed the incoming message alert.

"Yes," he said, easing into the white studio beyond. "Your message. What have you got for me, Dr. Espinoza?"

"A better piece of work than anything Hector Valdez could have done."

The white scanning table sitting in the center of the white room was just as Linus had remembered it, except this time the brown skull of the victim sat in the center. The box was nowhere in sight. Linus continued to smell coffee, but he saw no signs of it anywhere. Espinoza moved to the other side of the table, and Linus was reminded of being in the morgue with Karen. He saw no controls or projectors at all, but Espinoza moved her hands and suddenly a human head replaced the skull on the table. Linus felt there should be some kind of sound effect, a pop or a ping. But there was nothing.

"It was good you brought this to me instead of . . .
him,"
Espinoza said. "I have studied anatomy extensively, including bone structure and facial features. I immediately recognized the skull as Caucasoid, of course, but I could not determine everything. Skulls do not indicate hair and eye
color, for example. But I called Dr. Fang, and she told me she had found traces of wavy black hair on the victim's head. Most people with black hair have brown eyes, so that it was I gave him. The bones showed attachment of ligaments and gave hints about how deep the tissue that lay on them was. He looked Spanish or Italian to me, so I gave him that coloring. You can, of course, make him paler or darker as you like."

Linus circled the table, studying the head. It was of a man in his mid- to late twenties—grad student age, no surprise. As Espinoza reported, he had black, wavy hair, brown eyes, and skin that was either naturally dark or given to easy tanning. Strong jaw, flat cheekbones. Nose a bit too big to be attractive. An average, see-it-and-forget-it face. To Linus's disappointment, the young man didn't look even vaguely familiar.

"Wonderful, Dr. Espinoza," Linus said. "This is perfect. I can—"

"It is not perfect yet," Espinoza interrupted. "It looks dull and lifeless, which will make him harder to recognize. So I added this."

Her hands moved again, and the head turned. Linus jerked away from the table. The lips parted as if to take a breath, and the eyes blinked. Espinoza gave a small smile, and Linus recovered himself. He studied the head further, trying to keep thoughts of John the Baptist out of his own head. Despite his initial reaction, Linus had to admit the movement added quite a lot. Holographic muscles moved beneath holographic skin and made the victim much more real. The head blinked again and looked up at Linus, who half expected it to speak. He was profusely thankful that it didn't.

"Very lifelike," he said faintly. "You're clearly an artist."

"Thank you." Espinoza pulled a button out of the table and handed it to Linus. The head vanished, replaced by the skull. "Now you can take the image and this skull out of my studio."

Linus left quickly, the boxed skull under his arm and the image button in his wristwatch. Outside the transparent Dome, the warm sun shone high overhead. The newsfeeds would spread the image around, and maybe someone would recognize him, though it would mean putting someone in charge of fielding all the calls. It was also possible Hector Valdez had information about the victim's onboard by now as well. He was about to call the man and see when his stomach growled and he realized it was close to lunchtime. All of sudden, Linus didn't want to be alone, and he placed a call to look for company.

Noah rode the elevator to the fourth floor of the medical center, carrying a by-now familiar crime scene kit. A quick check with Dr. Fang had given him the name and location of last night's victim—Viktor Riza. The next several steps were routine whether Noah was on Earth or Luna, though Noah still found the process interesting. Mysteries were a jumble of evidence waiting to be sorted. It was as if Noah's baby brother Ken had scattered a jigsaw puzzle around their shared bedroom when they were kids, and Noah had to reassemble all the pieces. Except in this case, Noah didn't mind.