Curiosity killed the cat, but where human beings are concerned, the only thing a healthy curiosity can kill is ignorance.
--Harry Lorayne
Imanda Selim was a small woman. She stood about 5'3" and was a little slimmer than was currently fashionable. She was also organized and methodical, highly intelligent and somewhat whimsical. She was single, but had a few close friends. She was well liked by her coworkers and produced, if not stellar, then at least consistently high quality work. And she was probably dead.
All this I gathered from the interviews and by looking at her empty desk. Nothing had been cleared, because everyone except a few thought she was merely ill and would eventually be back. But the mess of the drawers and the torn sheet of paper on her desktop told me she had left in a hurry. The few missing photos announced the fact that she did not expect to be coming back.
The junior guard had been assigned to me, and he silently passed me a terminal with Imanda's personnel file open. She was also very young, in her early 20's. Too early to start a family yet, which surprisingly saddened me. Not only would she not experience the joys that her future would offer, but humanity had lost yet another successful apex point of our development. This young woman would never pass on her billion year gene expression to the next generation. Why is it that we always destroy the very best that our species produces?
During the various wars that followed the Collapse, scientists, artists, philosophers, engineers, doctors and the like, as well as those who showed promise to develop into them, were so highly prized by the various gangs that hostage taking was common, and outright assassination became one of the most reliable ways of ensuring a rival gang didn't have anyone smart enough to give them an edge. Intelligence and insight went underground, and for generations being or acting 'average' was insurance to a longer life.
Eventually, the gangs settled into the companies, and the companies themselves began to nurture the very best in their employees, granting promotions to entire families if one of their children proved to be gifted. Even with this support and the general air of encouragement to excellence in any field of endeavour, we are still struggling today. Our current level of achievement, hundreds of years after the Collapse and the chaos that followed, aren't even close to those heady days of optimism and sheer brilliance from before the collapse.
It was this 'greatest generation' that had boarded the colony ships in droves, bringing their families with them, gutting the best, bravest and brightest of the 250 countries on all three planets. These seed ships were on a quest to explore the most likely planets around the most hospitable stars, using a variety of drives and ship configurations. And they failed, all of them.
One by one, sometimes a dozen at a time, reports would come back of the destruction of a ship and all aboard. This would be due to a variety of system failures or unpredictable obstacles in deep space, or there would be no message at all, just the silence of another failed mission that marked the deaths of thousands of young and old.
One of the last messages to come through from one of the last ships left sealed the fate of humanity. The "Star Killer" had been an international effort, and was launched with all the bravado and optimism that that naive generation could muster. Within five years of their mission, they went silent, but not until after sending one final message, a message that pulled the heart out of humanity.
Captain Imeldo Serís, his face bleeding and blistered, had appeared on every screen on the three planets, broadcasting his final message to all humanity simultaneously. Whether he had meant to or not was still a matter of debate.
"Stay home," he said, his voice breaking over the sound of alarms and screams in the background. "We are doomed. The universe does not want us, and has made her will known. Stay home, the stars are not for man."
The Stars are Not For Man. This became the rallying cry of the millions who had lost family and friends in the mad push to the stars. Humanity was meant to die in its cradle.
Corporations with vested interests in the profits made by space travel pushed to continue the program regardless of the warnings, emptying universities, sometimes by forces using the governments they had bought, and loaded them into half finished ships and launched them to inevitable destruction. What was left of the human spirit rose up against the corporations and their governments, causing the Great War, and that led to the Collapse. Humanity had been promised the stars, but had been gifted only ashes.
And now one more bright star had been extinguished. I tapped a tab on the terminal to see what Imanda had been working on before she left so hurriedly, and it was torn unceremoniously from my hand.
"That's enough of that," the faceless guard said, his voice distorted by the comm unit. "Company secrets and all."
I waited briefly for the growl of protest that usually accompanied any infringement of my personal space, but I was greeted with silence. Darwin had disappeared once more, of course. He had hissed again as Mr. Jones had risen and opened the door to my office, then darted out onto the floor, hissing and spitting in anger at the guards for good measure as he left. Something had gotten into him, and I was going to figure out what it was. But not until I found him.
Mr. Jones, for her part, had left on some business or other taking the captain with her. That is when tall, dark and surly had been assigned to me.
"Yes, Ma'am," he had said, "with pleasure."
She had given him a quizzical look at that. "Don't get too enthusiastic," she warned, "He is working on something for me. Don't get in the way, just don't let him wander off."
"Yes, Ma'am."
And now we stood here together and Imanda Selim's desk, the terminal back in his hands.
"I am going to need that." I informed him calmly.
"Fine," he replied. With his gloved hand, he wiped the information from the screen, closing access to the personnel file. Without her chip or an authorization code from her superiors, I wouldn't be able to access Imanda's file again. "Knock yourself out." He passed me back the terminal. I looked at him for a moment, then I slipped it into my bag.
I pulled out Imanda's chair and sat down. It was too high for me and set me looking very nearly over the top of the dividing cubicle wall. I hunched down, trying to bring myself around to Imanda's height, and looked around the desk again. From this vantage, I could see a small slip of paper hanging down from the edge of the cubicle wall with some writing on it. I smoothed it out, pinning it back into place. It read, "I'm with stupid" with an arrow pointing up.
Confused, I looked up in the direction the arrow was pointing. It was just a patch of ceiling tile, no different from that which was over the rest of this floor. I looked around, behind me was a wall, and on either side were other cubicles, workers present and heads down, ignoring me a way that said "Keep me out of it!"
I sat quietly for a few minutes, closing my eyes. I wanted to hear the sounds of the office in the late afternoon, the buzz of conversation, the clacking of keyboards and the shuffling of feet as people passed by. Something had been bothering me for a few minutes, and I finally identified it. Purring. I could hear a cat purring. Not just any cat, though. This was the industrial strength purring of a semi-large cat. And it was close.
"What the what?", a young man's voice came across the cubicle wall in front of me. "Oh my, aren't you beautiful. Where did you come from?" It would seem that I had found Darwin.
"Hello?" I called quietly from my scrunched up position in Imanda's chair.
"Hello?" came the tentative reply from across the wall.
"Can I talk to you for a second? It's about Imanda."
There was hesitation. "Ok. Gimme a sec." I turned to see which direction he would be coming in. There was a bit of shuffle then a voice came from above. "Where's Imanda?"
Surprised, I looked up. Directly above the arrow on the "I'm with stupid" sign on the cubicle wall, I could see a young man's head looking down at me. He was in his mid-twenties by his look, and while not classically handsome, he had an open honest face that intelligent people found attractive. Here was a man who could be trusted.
His casually reached over the wall and pulled out the pin that held the sign up and tossed it expertly into the container without looking. He had done this so many times that it had become an unconscious habit for him. The sign slowly folded back down on itself, hiding the writing and arrow once again.
"Is she ok?," he asked. "I haven't heard from her in days. I am getting a little worried."
He wore his love for this slim young woman on his face like a beacon, and his concern was entirely for her wellbeing. This was another heart that would be broken by the events that were gathering around me. Whoever was responsible for all of this had much to answer for.
"That is what I am trying to establish. Do you mind if we talk?"
"Not at all, come on over."
I rose from the chair, and walked around the end of the row, followed by my ever-present shadow. Opposite Imanda's cubicle I found Kumar Mehta, if I were to trust his nameplate. His desk was the alternate-universe mirror to hers. Chaotic was the first impression, however I was fairly sure that Mr. Mehta could find anything he needed at a moment's notice. Pinned to the top edge of the cubicle wall, precisely opposite of it's companion sign, was a page that read, "And stupid's with me" with an arrow point up.
This could have been a happy relationship. It was now destined to become a bitter memory, one marked by absence and longing. This young man just didn't know it yet. I was starting to feel the sympathetic pain of separation, and dark shadow I knew well. I looked for stability, to draw me away from the vortex of my own loss. Darwi n, though, was already gone.
"Wasn't there a cat here?" I asked.
He looked around his desk for a moment, clearly surprised. "I could swear, it was right here! You wouldn't believe how big he was. I have never seen a domestic that size before."
"Oh, I believe you. His name is Darwin. If you run into him again, can you please inform him that I would like to see him again, sometime."
"Your cat?"
"My... partner. Who seems to have gone AWOL."
He smiled at that, relaxing a little. "I am Kumar Mehta, assay coordinator, junior." He reached out his hand.
"I am Joshua Friedman, Finder." His hand paused.
"Oh my god, is something wrong with Imanda? I thought she might be missing or something after that thing. Is there anything I can do to help?" He was clearly concerned.
"You could start by telling me what you meant by 'that thing.' I assume it happened four days ago."
He blinked. "Yes. She was doing some work, I am not sure what, when she kinda shouted, Oh my god, or something like that. I popped my head over and she covered her work. She was shaking."
"Did she say anything?"
"Not at first. She grabbed her printout and went to see that slimeball Mendez. When she came back she was clearly upset. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me she couldn't talk about it. It was a special project she was working on or something. You could ask Mendez."
"Mendez was a wealth of information already. So, 'not at first'? Then what?"
"A couple of hours later, she got another printout and started working on it. I could hear her typing away, then she stopped. I didn't hear anything for a couple of minutes so I popped over again. She was sitting there just crying. She looked up at me and she said 'The poor thing. They have her caged like an animal.' I had no idea what she was talking about, but she got this determined look on her face. 'I will be right over' she said then."
He paused for a minute. "You know, she has never done that before. It was always just over the wall. Anyway, a few minutes later, she came over here and handed me an envelope. 'In case something happens' she said. Then she kissed me. We've... never kissed me before. She said she was sorry and then left. I thought she was saying sorry for kissing me, but I am not so sure now."
"Do you still have the envelope?"
He handed it silently over. "Is she ok? Will you find her? For me?"
The guard suddenly lunged forward, reaching for the envelope. "I'll take that."
I grabbed his arm before he could take it.
"Back. Off." I said very deliberately staring directly into his blackened visor. "Why don't you do something useful and go find your boss. We need to take a trip." The guard hesitated, apparently not wanting to leave me alone.
"Go. Now." I said releasing his arm.
He started to back away, then turned and started up the aisle at a trot, looking back at me before rounding the corner.
I opened the envelope. In it were three sheets of paper, each time stamped for four days ago. The first was a formula, hand written on terminal then printed out. The writing was strangely angular, with random spaces and line breaks. The second was in standard scientific notation, looking very much like a series of chemical formulas. The third was written in that same angular script.
Imanda and Leena had been communicating through the formulas. And it had probably cost Imanda her life. I folded the sheets and put them in my bag.
I turned to Kumar. "I will do what I can to find her. I can say though that I am sure that she wasn't apologizing for the kiss. It is probably the one thing in her life she wasn't sorry for."
"Wasn't?" Mehta asked, a worried panic creeping into his voice.
Mr. Jones came around the corner accompanied by her guards. Without even a glance, she swept past me down the aisle.
"Are you coming, Finder? I haven't got all bloody day."
I gave Kumar one more sympathetic look as I grabbed my bag and followed Mr. Jones. I looked back once as I turned the corner and saw him standing at his desk facing the cubicle wall. He reached out and pulled out some pins, taking down a paper with an arrow drawn on it.