Dead Man on the Moon (28 page)

The walls, ceiling, and floor of the enormous, three-story room were padded with blue material made of Velcro eyes. Moving pillars and cubes with rounded corners randomly extruded from all surfaces like whales breaching the surface, then slowly sank back flush with the wall, ceiling, or floor. A huge sphere, also padded with Velcro, hung suspended in the center of the gym. Even at this hour eight or
ten people were using the gym. Linus made a mental note of their locations, then crouched and
leaped.

He left his stomach behind as he soared straight toward the sphere in the gym's center. It was like flying, or the closest thing to it. Just as his momentum began to slow, he hit the sphere. Linus slapped it with both palms and brought his knees up. The Velcro on hands and knees easily caught and held him in place. The light gravity allowed him to cling to the side of the sphere like a human spider. Barely pausing to gather himself, he leaped again. This time he hit the wall and clung there with palms and toes. Linus climbed, scampering upward with dozens of tiny ripping sounds until he reached the ceiling. A young woman was just ahead of him, and she made the corner without even pausing. Linus followed, crawling upside down like a fly. A pillar oozed out of the ceiling to reach down for the floor, and Linus yanked himself free. He dropped lazily downward and snagged the moving pillar one-handed as he fell past it, then swung himself around and climbed back upward. Another jump took him back to the central sphere. Sweat beaded on his face and gathered under his arms as he leaped, skittered, crawled, and scampered around the gym, avoiding the other climbers and having a hell of a good time. The pressures of the investigation, the Mayor-President, and his difficult relationships fell away. He was like a kid transformed into a comic book hero.

The spider gym admitted more people, and Linus had to pay more and more attention to where he was going. Two other climbers collided in mid-air and dropped to the ground, though neither of them was hurt. Linus tensed for a moment, thinking one might start a fight with the other, but the pair shrugged it off and went back to their workout. Eventually, Linus's obie announced in his ear that it was a quarter to seven. Time to leave. He made two more leaps and reluctantly landed near the door. Back inside the entryway, he stripped off the climbing equipment and helmet, retrieved his carryall, and headed out the door. A line
of people already snaked up the corridor, and the person at the front immediately moved in to take the workout slot Linus had vacated.

Linus exited the rec center and broke into the light, loping jog that passed for running on Luna. This second half of his workout took him back to his apartment, where he peeled off his sweaty clothes. He shoved them under his bed, showered, shaved, and dressed in the tan slacks and white shirt he usually wore to work. Breakfast consisted of two pieces of tofu toast, instant oatmeal, and more coffee. He dumped the dishes in the sink and checked his watch. Karen was supposed to meet him at the shuttle at nine. Linus prayed it wouldn't be awkward working with her now.

It was for the best, he told himself as he left for the train station. Linus was happily ... he was ... well, he was married, even if he didn't see his wife more than once a year. And one day he would be with her and his daughter. Somehow.

The spaceport was nearly deserted. Yesterday's shuttle had long since disgorged its passengers, and it wasn't scheduled to take off until tomorrow afternoon. In the interim, it would be serviced in meticulous detail. Linus grimaced. Vanessa Maygrave, manager of the spaceport, probably wouldn't be happy when Linus told her the shuttle wasn't going anywhere until he had thoroughly processed everything. Well, police work rarely made you the life of the party. At best you got annoyed cooperation. At worst, you got demands for warrants and court orders.

Linus arrived at the port at two minutes after nine. Karen was waiting for him just inside the main doors looking coolly pissed off in a white lab coat and dark coveralls. Linus groaned to himself. Karen hated tardiness of any stripe, and it was likely she didn't feel well disposed of him right now to begin with. He braced himself and wondered how it would feel to walk around with his head ripped off.

She said nothing, merely accepted one of the scene kits he handed her.

"Morning," he said a little too brightly. "Ready to catch a killer?"
OK great dialogue,
he thought.

"Sure, lo—sure," she said. Her tone was brisk. "Let's go."

Linus led the way through the nearly deserted gray corridors of the spaceport to the office of Vanessa Maygrave. Like most rooms on Luna, the spaceport manager's office was small, though this one felt big. It might have had something to do with the floor-to-ceiling picture window that looked out over the gray sandscape. The window currently lay in shadow, and stars shone down like hard jewels. A hundred meters away, Linus could make out the landing pad and the bulbous shuttle that lay on it like an abandoned Christmas ornament. The view, Linus mused, would be pretty spectacular during takeoff and landing. Vac-suited technicians swarmed over the shuttle, busy as silver-coated bees buzzing around a hive.

To one side was Vanessa Maygrave's desk. Vanessa came around it to greet Linus and Karen, eyebrows raised. Her white hair, trapped in a neat bun, contrasted sharply with a dark Asian complexion. A spidery network of wrinkles creased her face with a quizzical expression, and a pair of reading glasses hung from a chain around her neck. Vanessa wasn't a citizen of Luna City. She didn't even work for the University or for the Lunar government. Her employer was International Flyways, Inc., the company that maintained a controlling interest in Tether Station, flat-out owned the shuttles, and possessed a chunk of the spaceport to boot. International Flyways rotated spaceport managers through Luna City every six months. Vanessa was on her third posting up here, and Linus had dealt with her many times over the years. She had shown him around the port when he was a just a Lunar rookie, and they had occasionally run into each other at social functions. Linus liked her well enough, though she wasn't someone he'd invite over to his apartment for his famous crepes.

Which reminded him—Linus owed Hector a crepe supper. He made a mental note to call the man later.

"What brings you two down here?" Vanessa asked after a few pleasantries.

"We need access to a few records and possibly to the shuttle," Linus said. "I'm hoping to do it without a warrant."

"You can indeed hope," she replied with a small smile. "But I'll need a little more information first. Have a seat. Can I pour you some tea?" She gestured at a red ceramic teapot that squatted amid a set of round, Asian cups like a mother hen surrounded by a brood of chicks.

Linus declined, Karen accepted. They both took up spots in two guest chairs that Vanessa had managed to squeeze into the cramped space. The office was neither clean nor cluttered, but fell somewhere in between. Vanessa poured herself and Karen cups of tea, and the room filled with the sweet smell of cinnamon.

"Now," she said, "tell me everything. I assume this has something to do with that body that turned up outside? Or maybe you're investigating the death of Viktor Riza. That poor boy. He's going back to Earth when this shuttle leaves. International Flyways offered him a free ticket, and he accepted."

"Do you do that for all your murdered customers?" Karen asked.

"Karen!" Linus said, a little aghast.

Vanessa waved this aside. "The company isn't planning to milk the publicity, if that's what you mean. I recommended the ticket, and the company accepted the idea— with a little muscling."

"Sorry," Karen mumbled into her cup. "I'm just. . . well, I'm sorry."

"I need to know," Linus said quickly, "if you had an any accidental overshoots in the last six months."

"You mean, did any of our pilots screw up and overshoot the landing pad?"

"I'd be more polite, but yes, that the gist. Only in the last six months, though."

Vanessa cupped her hands around her tea. "I know we have a few now and then. The pilots who mess up like that take a great deal of ribbing when they finally land, you know. There are the usual jokes about taking the cost of fuel out of their pay and all that. I think we did have one four or five months ago. Let me check the records."

She muttered to her obie and put her reading glasses on. Linus saw text skitter across the lenses, though it was backward to him. Vanessa's eyes tracked as she read.

"Ah!" she said at last. "I was right—we did have an overshoot. Just four months ago, in fact."

Linus leaned forward, all senses on full alert. "Which shuttle was it?"

"The
Anna May."
Vanessa gestured toward the window. "She's on the pad right now."

"And who was the pilot?"

"Her name is Adrienne Miao. Quite competent, actually. This overshoot is her only one."

"I don't suppose she would be . . ." Linus began.

"She is," Vanessa interrupted. "Adrienne piloted the
Anna May
in. We only have so many qualified pilots, you know. I suppose you'll want to talk to her."

"You bet," Linus said. "I'll also need copies of the flight path the shuttle actually took, the flight path it was
supposed
to take, and any sensor data from the shuttle itself."

Vanessa tapped a long finger on the side of her cup. "This is a sensitive area, Linus. I'm not supposed to release that kind of data without authorization—or a warrant."

"I know." Linus kept his voice low and earnest. He knew Vanessa. She wasn't stubborn, she didn't go on power trips—unless she was pushed. Linus knew that if wanted quick results, he needed to convince her she was in charge. Getting a warrant would take time and would just piss Vanessa off. He opened his mouth to speak.

"We're hoping," Karen said abruptly, "that this could be easy. It's your station and you make the rules. But we're trying to catch a killer—one who doesn't care about the rules
and who shoved an innocent man out into vacuum. Can you help us?"

Linus shot her a quick look. Karen's face was the picture of earnestness. Vanessa set down her cup and, after a moment, waved a dismissive hand.

"Of course, of course," she said. "I don't want a killer running around the city any more than you do." A glint came into her eye. "But this doesn't come free, Linus Pavlik. It's the Luna rule, you know—you have to trade for everything."

"What do you mean?" Linus asked warily.

"I hear from Hector Valdez that you make a mean crepes suzette?"

Linus laughed at that. "You got it."

"Good. I look forward to your invitation. Meanwhile, you can kill two birds with one stone—Ms. Miao is out on the shuttle as we speak, probably in the crew quarters. I'll forward you those records as soon as I can put them together. Do you know your way to the landing pad?"

Linus said he did while Karen deposited her empty cup on Vanessa's desk. They left the office, crime scene kits in hand, and loped down hallways and across wide receiving rooms to the entry bay. Neither of them spoke. Linus felt awkward and wondered what he should say. It was stupid—Karen was his best friend, and he had never had trouble talking to her before. His admission of marriage changed everything, exactly what Linus had hoped to avoid. It wasn't fair. Telling her made things awkward between them. Not telling her would have been a lie and led to even more awkwardness in the long run. It was stupid, but he didn't know what to do about it. For her part, Karen seemed content with the silence, so Linus stopped trying to come up with something to say.

A quick walk down an off-white corridor took them to the airlock that connected to the shuttle. The shuttle crouched on its rocket boosters like an autographed baseball resting on a stand with four stumpy legs. It was divided into several levels and bays designated for fuel, passengers, luggage, and cargo. Airlocks, both emergency and every day, dotted the shuttle's surface. When the shuttle was full, passengers and crew swarmed the bays and hallways like students crowding high school hallways. At the moment, it was quiet as an Egyptian tomb. It even smelled empty. Linus slid his monocle around and asked his obie how many airlocks the
Anna May
had.

"Forty-two," his obie told him. "Ten everyday and twenty-two emergency."

"Great," said Karen, who had overhead the exchange. "What was that you said yesterday about using other deputies?"

"Maybe we can narrow things down a little," Linus said. "Let's talk to Ms. Miao first."

The area just inside the airlock led into a large passenger bay. The seats were all empty, and the bay had a curious feel, as if it were holding its breath in anticipation of more passengers. Linus adjusted his monocle.

"Obie," he said, "link with the
Anna May's
computer and give me directions to the crew quarters."