Somewhere else aboard the Mahoney, outside a nondescript apartment complex slated for renovation and remodeling, stood Edmund and Merrion.
Merrion: "This is – how do we know that they're here?"
Merrion asked Edmund, who was standing before the entrance doors with his arms folded. Edmund's expression was resolute.
Edmund: "They're here. I can…feel it. He's here."
Merrion: "Who?"
In the year spent under his mentoring, Merrion had come to realize that sometimes Edmund just said things without context. If she didn't try to pry more detail from him, she'd be completely lost. Of course, sometimes even if she did ask, it was pointless and fruitless.
Merrion (thinking): Looks like this is one of those times.
Completely ignoring her question, Edmund turned away from the door to face her.
Edmund: "Before we go in, I want you to remember these few points. Look as serious as possible. Next, don't say anything, let me do the talking. Third, even if anyone leers at you don't back away. Give them the sternest glare you can manage and draw your stun gun if they escalate physical contact. Lastly, trust me. The Void Mambas are – a violent bunch, but only draw your weaponry as a last resort."
Merrion: "Understood."
Just as Edmund finished briefing Merrion, a short and scrawny boy with wild eyes appeared before them from a nearby staircase. He gestured to them with glove-covered hands, and Edmund and Merrion were ushered by the short and scrawny boy into a room at the bottom of the staircase. As they entered the room and passed through a doorway flanked by two huge and muscular guards, they both breathed in. The wisps of narcotic smoke in the room instantly made Merrion enter a violent fit of coughing, while Edmund remained completely unaffected.
Through her coughing fit and watering eyes, Merrion could barely make out the layout of the room she was in. There was a table in the center, flanked by two couches on either side. A fluorescent bulb hanging from the ceiling provided just enough illumination to see by, casting deep umbral outlines in the regions obscured by furniture or felon. Several dangerous-looking men clad in designer suits reclined on the couches, puffing away on cigars held in callused and scarred hands adorned with rings. Their faces were a patchwork mesh of scar tissue: badges of honour and status in their dog-eat-dog criminal underworld.
Amongst this gathering of crooks and criminals of wealth and taste was a certain individual. He was not smoking on a cigar but instead swirling a crystal glass tumbler filled with a deeply amber liquid, taking a sip every few seconds. A dust-covered device resembling an old and deprecated model of communicators from several years prior sat on the table before him. He alone exuded a menacing aura of authority that was distinct from the other individuals in the room. Deep black eyes like obsidian pearls set in a face marred by scars flicked lazily about the room before stopping on Merrion.
Scarred Boss: "It's rude of you to cough when entering someone's home, fidder. You should imitate your betters. At least one of you knows to hold back."
The man with the crystal glass tumbler in his hand spoke with a deep and dignified voice. The instant he made eye contact with Edmund, his deep black eyes immediately lit up with something adjacent to familiarity.
Scarred Boss: "A million people aboard the Mahoney. A thousand possible locations where I could be. And yet, you always know where to find me. How annoying."
The man placed his drink upon the table with a light clinking noise and rose to his feet with a whirring noise like the sound of servomechanisms operating as the man rose to his full height. The rest of the men seated at the couches immediately stood at the same time, heads bowed in a gesture that Merrion instinctually recognized as the deferential behaviour owed to a superior by their underlings.
Even Edmund, who was at a respectable height for a fully-grown male, stood at the man's jaw-height. To Merrion, he towered well above her. The fluorescent bulb hanging from the ceiling failed to provide its light evenly throughout the room, leaving the upper half of the man's face immersed in the darkness. Merrion couldn't help but think that this was a deliberate intimidation tactic. It was certainly working on her.
Scarred Boss: "You're not supposed to be here. We had an agreement. What's the point of secrecy if you just show up like this? And with this fidder girl, too."
The man pointed towards Merrion while he took a sip of his drink. The gesture seemed neither welcoming nor hostile, in stark contrast to the tone of his voice. To Merrion, the man's voice sounded like honeyed venom. It was deep and dignified, but with a spiteful and toxic edge that betrayed the speaker's true intentions.
Edmund: "Omar, I came today to ask about –"
Omar: "Business, business, business. Always business with you. You never did learn to appreciate the finer things in life, did you? Like the pleasures of a stiff drink, the joys of being an entrepreneur, or –"
Omar looked around the room, his gaze ending up on Merrion, who jumped ever so slightly when he locked his eyes with hers.
Omar: "– the company of the fairer sex. A stick in the mud is what you are. You should get your dick wet. Maybe it'd help you forget her and get over this hang-up. Although I do have to say, that fidder sure looks familiar. Where have I –"
Edmund: "Omar, I don't have the time to –"
Omar: "No, you never have time, not for me anymore. The great Detective Edmund, out in the Sector solving crimes. I miss you greatly. When did you last come to visit me, hmm?"
Edmund: "We can talk another –"
Omar: "Was it almost a year ago? Ah, yes…you showed up, tears streaming – "
Edmund: "OMAR!"
Edmund shouted, letting loose a deafeningly loud noise that startled Merrion and the scrawny boy, who disappeared up the staircase in a rat-like fashion. Merrion had never seen Edmund so riled up before. She shuddered to think that he was capable of such outbursts the likes of which she had never experienced from him. He was always so gruff, but he never exploded like this before. Was this what he was like when he was truly angry?
Who was this man, this Omar, that could get under the skin of Edmund?
In immediate response to the shout, the guards moved forward, arms outstretched and ready to restrain Edmund.
Omar: "– no. There's no need, return to your posts. In light of our history, I'll let this slide. Just once. So, what compels you to visit me, a Captain of the Void Mamba Syndicate, even after our agreement?"
Edmund: "Omar, we caught one of your men in the cargo terminal."
Omar raised an eyebrow.
Omar: "Who?"
Edmund: "I was hoping you could tell me that. The man didn't tell us anything. Here's his photo."
Edmund flashed the thug's photo on his communicator, which Merrion had snapped earlier before he had escaped.
Omar: "Fucking Seung, that little shit. So, he's in your lockup aboard the Doyle right now, I presume? Let him rot there. He should know better than to shit where we sleep, that little –"
Edmund: "Then we were attacked by an intelligent construct, some kind of serpentine chain, and he was taken away. The way it behaved, I thought maybe you'd know more about it."
Edmund knew that maybe telling Omar this was pushing it, but if he wanted Omar to help him, he'd need to provide some useful information. He'd expected Omar to react in many possible ways. What Edmund did not expect was for Omar to go pale-faced the moment he said those words.
Omar: "An intelligent construct? The shape of a chain, you say? Could it turn invisible as well?"
Edmund: "You know of this?"
Omar's face suddenly darkened. He gestured towards the two guards, who immediately stepped forward and grabbed both Edmund and Merrion.
Omar: "Take them outside. Don't hurt them."
Merrion tried to fight off the grip of the smaller guard, but to no avail. She was quickly restrained along with Edmund, and the guards dragged them towards the door they had entered from. Edmund found the larger guard to be surprisingly gentle with him.
Omar: "Take my advice: don't chase the chain user. If you do, you'll be in too deep, and even I won't be able to help you here like I did before. Don't come and find me again; I won't tolerate another violation of our agreement. Even if it's you, brother."
That was all Omar spoke to Edmund, the door closing behind them as the guards brought Edmund and Merrion back outside, dumping them unceremoniously in the corridor before returning down the staircase to the smoke-filled room.
---
Edmund and Merrion sat next to each other, back in Inspector Zora's office. Merrion had a small bruise on her right wrist, from where the smaller guard had grabbed her. Evidently, he hadn't been as gentle as his larger counterpart.
Zora: "I can't believe that you managed to select a location with Omar himself. You really have the devil's luck, don't you, Edmund?"
Edmund: "Much good that did us. We were outnumbered, and they even bruised her. Frankly speaking, I'm glad it was Omar who was there, not some other syndicate captain."
Edmund looked over to Merrion, who massaged the affected area with her other hand.
Edmund: "You alright?"
Merrion: "I'm shaken, but alive."
Merrion reassured him, still remembering the fear she felt when the Void Mamba captain had locked eyes with her. Those weren't the eyes of any normal person. Those pitch-black orbs had looked at her like the void itself threatening to swallow her whole. Even the leering gaze of the thug who disappeared in the cargo terminal was nothing compared to that. What kind of darkness swirled within such a person to stain the windows of their soul so?
Zora: "Did Omar provide anything of use?"
"Not much. He freaked out once I mentioned the chain construct, and promptly booted us from his hideout. Told us " – not to chase the chain user". Sounds like the construct has an operator."
Zora: "So, considering someone has possession of an intelligent construct capable of lifting and moving a person, assuming a reasonable allowance for weight, it's possible that the same operator could have manipulated and retrieved the cryocasket before replacing it with a dupe. However…"
Zora closed her eyes, right hand over her mouth, deep in thought. A profound silence filled the room, which was shattered by all three of the investigator's communicators emitting their notification sounds. Edmund and Merrion silenced their communicators as Zora's communicator, which rested on its charging pad on her table, started projecting an image on the wall. This image was in colour, unlike the other projection they had seen earlier in the day and depicted a person familiar to Merrion.
The moment Merrion recognised the image, she shot up from a chair, eyes fixed on the projection. Edmund's eyes widened as he scanned over the image, while Zora's remained impassioned, her heart long having grown cold and apathetic to all but the worst cases imaginable. In big, bold font, the top of the image had the words <
Merrion: "No, Maria, when…why?"
Merrion's eyes trembled, tears welling up.
Zora: "Who's that?"
Zora asked, even though she already knew the answer. Merrion inhaled deeply, wiping away her tears and trying to regain some semblance of control before her superiors.
Merrion: "That's – that's my roommate, Maria. We – we were supposed to go for dinner together today, to celebrate her birthday."
Merrion doubled over, burying her face in her hands. There were no sounds of crying, just silence. While Merrion took in the sudden news, Zora scrolled through several other reports she had received earlier in the day through her worktop terminal.
Zora: "While the two of you were visiting the Void Mambas earlier, we got a call from an apartment complex aboard the Agnes regarding a possible break-in, reported by the weekly housekeeping staff. The personnel we sent over to investigate the crime scene noticed a strange smell, so we performed a quick chemicals test. It returned positive results for a known compound used in abduction cases, and the suspected kidnapping victim's workplace didn't record her arrival at the regular time. Thus, the case was upgraded to a suspected kidnapping, and we sent out the alert."
With several quick hand gestures, the image projected by the communicator changed to one depicting an apartment room intended for two occupants in an absolute state of disarray. The furniture was strewn about the room, with large pieces of debris inside. The two beds, normally carefully maintained by the housekeeping staff, were pushed to opposite ends of the room, with their sheets and pillows thrown about. Fragments of glass from a shattered mirror littered the floor.
There had obviously been one hell of a struggle that had gone down in this room, and there was no way that Merrion could return to her apartment, even if it hadn't been designated as a crime scene.
Edmund: "If that's the situation, then she doesn't have a safe place to stay tonight. Can we put her up in the Doyle?"
Edmund asked Zora, visibly worried for Merrion's safety. Merrion had sunk back into her seat, hands still covering her face. Edmund gently placed his hand on her shoulder, trying to console her however he could.
Zora: "I'm afraid not. Even I cannot suddenly book facilities on such a tight schedule. The approval process will take at least a day to complete."
Edmund: "But –"
Zora: "How about putting her up in your apartment tonight?"
Edmund: "What?"
Zora: "Look at it this way. If she stays with you, you can help to ensure her safety. I can clear the both of you to carry your Verdicts overnight, but if anyone makes a fuss about it to HQ we'll all suffer for it. So, be discreet. Do you have any objections, Detective Merrion?"
Merrion looked up, her eyes reddened. She wiped away the last of her tears and replied.
Merrion: "Only…if Detective Edmund is fine with it, ma'am. I can just…sleep out here in the office if necessary."
Edmund: "I don't mind. She can take the bed; I'll sleep on the floor."
Zora: "Then its settled. Merrion, if he does anything funny, tell me and I'll fire him immediately."
There was no reply from Merrion or from Edmund. They merely stared at Zora, their eyes judging her.
Zora: "Could've worded that better. My apologies."
---
The door to Edmund's apartment clicked and receded into the wall with a mechanical sound. Edmund stepped through the passageway, with Merrion following hesitantly. In both of his hands, Edmund held shopping bags filled with hydroponic vegetables, sealed packets of synthetic meat-analogue strips and dehydrated noodle blocks. Merrion, on her part, had a smaller bag slung over her shoulder filled with some disposable clothing she had purchased from a vendor in the Agnes's marketplace, as well as a disposable toiletry set.
The lights within the apartment were off. The only sources of illumination came from the hallway lights and from the Agnes's axial plasma tube, which was slowly dimming. To simulate a reasonable day/night cycle, all ships in the Fleet with large rotating drums adjusted the intensity of their central illumination in accordance with their sector's day/night scheduling. However, ships like the Doyle, which did have rotating habitation elements but none that simulated exposure to a 'sky', did not have to follow this cycling.
Edmund pulled out a keycard and inserted it into a slot near the door, above a small panel. He keyed in several things, which were hard for Merrion to make out from her vantage point. Seemingly in response, the lights in the apartment came on, and the background droning of the ventilation system became more pronounced, ever so slightly.
Edmund: "You uh…alright with cold places?"
Merrion turned, not expecting Edmund to ask her that.
Merrion: "I'm sorry?"
Edmund: "I usually like to turn the temperature down. I'm asking if you can tolerate that sorta thing."
Merrion: "Oh, erm, I can try."
Merrion responded, trying her best to not overstep her status as a guest in Edmund's apartment.
Edmund: "Sounds like you can't then. It's fine."
Edmund turned back, keying in a command into the panel. Immediately, the ventilation system quietened down in response. He removed his magnetic boots, placing them next to the door, which had slid back into its closed position with a slight thud. He then stepped onto the apartment floor, which was separated from the door by a small step. He then gestured to Merrion, who removed her boots as well, placing them next to his and stepping up into the apartment.
Merrion took a good look around her. Compared to her unit, which she shared with her roommate, Edmund's apartment was relatively more spacious. Or rather, it would be if it weren't in a state of absolute squalor. Merrion, who kept her apartment in a fastidious state of cleanliness that surpassed even the housekeeping staff's ability to exceed, could hardly believe her eyes. The mess had been hidden earlier by the lack of lighting, but now, with the apartment lights on, it was on full display for her. Three words entered her mind, and without thinking, Merrion blurted them out.
Merrion: "What the f –"
---
Merrion and Edmund sat at opposite sides of the table, which had earlier been sitting in the centre of the room, covered with stacks of books. Atop the table now sat a plate, covered with a meat-analogue and vegetable stir-fry. Merrion and Edmund each ate from a large bowl, filled with silken strands of noodles rehydrated and cooked in the same instant broth which now filled their bowls. Sips of the golden liquid warmed up Merrion, who greatly enjoyed the feeling of the broth warming her up from inside. Her enjoyment was greatly contrasted with Edmund, who was sweating terribly. Not only had he been denied his colder air-settings, drinking the broth and slurping down the noodles only further intensified the heat he felt.
Around them, the apartment was in a much more presentable state. After Merrion's outburst upon seeing the messy state it was in initially, she had taken it upon herself to at least make the apartment more liveable. With Edmund's help and permission, they had cleared the table of its stacks of books and cleaned up the clothing scattered on the floor, freeing up some space for the two of them to sit on the floor and tuck into dinner.
The apartment, now more visible, mimicked an ancient style of apartment with its raised faux-wooden floor: a textured nano-laminate composite coating that was cheaper to produce and far more durable than actual wood. Real wood was a luxury.
Edmund was surprised by Merrion's sudden outburst at the entrance. He had never pegged Merrion as a clean freak, but upon further thinking, it made sense to him. Those two were similar, after all…
The small smile that had suddenly formed on Edmund's face caught Merrion's attention.
Merrion: "What'cha thinking about?"
Edmund: "Oh, it – it's nothing. Thanks for helping to clean up the mess."
Merrion: "Think of it as me thanking you for letting me stay here."
Merrion smiled, doing her best to make Edmund forget how she had exploded with expletives upon seeing the mess. Seeing Edmund immediately go back to eating, she considered it a success, smiling to herself.
Merrion: "Still, I didn't know you could cook, Edmund. These noodles are really good."
Edmund: "Can you really even call preparing instant noodles cooking? What's more amazing is this stir-fry of yours. This flavour is amazing."
Edmund took a portion of the stir-fried vegetables, using a serving spoon to transfer the crisp slices of vegetables to his personal spoon.
Merrion: "And you don't even need oil for it, the meat-analogue has a surprising amount of oil contained within! Let the strips render out, and then once they're partially cooked, throw in the chopped vegetables and start stirring. If the vegetables are added at the right time, they'll remain crisp and crunchy once the dish is done!"
Edmund: "Whoever taught you to cook like that must've been an amazing chef. I'd like to meet them someday. Who – "
Merrion: "It was Maria. This is her recipe."
An awkward silence descended over the dinner table. Merrion scrunched up her face, realising what she had done, and tried to lighten the mood.
Merrion: "W – well! If you didn't have that pan here, I wouldn't have been able to make the stir-fry to begin with. Good thing we found it under all that trash, right?" Merrion smiled, again trying desperately to change the topic. She saw Edmund smile slightly as well, as if he was recalling a warm and pleasant memory.
Edmund: "Yeah…and all thanks to you."
Edmund replied, raising his spoon up toward her as if he were toasting.
Together, they finished up the entirety of the simple meal. Edmund gathered the empty bowls and placed them atop the plate, before grabbing the entire cutlery stack and moving towards the kitchen sink.
Edmund: "Go take a shower while I wash up. I'll go after you."
Merrion: "Got it."
Merrion grabbed her bag and entered the toilet, the door locking with an audible click. Outside, Edmund washed, dried, and put away the pan and cutlery used earlier in the cupboards above the stoves. Once he was done with the kitchen, Edmund pulled out a clean set of bedlinens from the cabinet integrated into the wall and replaced the previous set, which reeked from his sweat. If he was going to let Merrion use his bed, the least he could do was make it as comfortable as possible. From the depths of the same cabinet, Edmund pulled out a sleeping bag, packed inside a vacuum-seal wrap. He looked at the compacted bag wistfully before opening it up and laying it out on an exposed section of the floor.
---
Merrion stood in the shower, water flowing down from her head in cascading rivulets from the shower faucet above. Her short bob cut was easy to maintain, and she normally washed it once every three days. But after the events of today and the places she had visited, Merrion had decided to wash her hair, even though it was only the first day. As she worked the shampoo into her hair, she thought about the events of the day.
It was all so strange. Finding out that the Lord Admiral was dead, a likely homicide, being assigned to this investigation by someone who wasn't their superior, instructed to observe the autopsy instead of first investigating the crime scene, discovering that the corpse had been stolen, a random ganger being abducted by an intelligent construct, her superior Edmund knowing the captain of a violent gang on a first-name basis, and worst of all, her roommate and dear friend Maria having gone missing, kidnapped by unknown agents.
The more she thought about it, the more Merrion grew anxious. Anxious for Edmund, anxious for Maria, anxious for herself. The thoughts spun around in her mind, whirling around like the water whirling down the shower drain.
A sudden knock at the shower door dragged Merrion back to reality, and she heard Edmund's voice through the translucent door.
Edmund: "Hey, don't use up all my water. I want at least ten minutes worth of flow rate."
Merrion checked the small display in the shower, which simply read <<15>>. She quickly applied the remaining soap to her body, and rinsed away all the lather, sending it swirling down the drain towards the recycling plant, where it would be completely recycled for use somewhere and somewhen else.
---
Edmund heard the toilet door click. He turned his head and saw Merrion step out. Her towel was wrapped around her head, and she wore a grey set of t-shirt and shorts. She shivered slightly from the cool air in the apartment contacting her skin, still warm and flushed from the heated shower.
Edmund: "For disposables, those fit you surprisingly well."
Merrion: "Thanks."
Edmund: "I swapped the bedsheets already. Bed's all yours."
Merrion: "Where will you sleep?"
Edmund: "I'll sleep on that."
Edmund pointed to the sleeping bag that he laid on the floor earlier at the foot of the bed. He then walked past Merrion, towel in hand, into the shower. The door closed behind him with a click and Merrion heard the shower start up.
As she dried her hair wrapped in the towel, Merrion looked over the stacks of books she had helped move off from the table earlier. There were so many, from fictional stories she recalled seeing within archives on her communicator, to non-fiction encyclopaedias encompassing a wide variety of general knowledge topics.
Just like wood, paper was a luxury, and Edmund must have invested many a credit over his decades to amass such a collection even though a single communicator could contain millions of texts. This stack must cost at least a few thousand credits, thought Merrion, as she admired the dedication needed to manage physical books.
One particular book caught her attention.
Unlike its thicker and denser cousins with professionally designed covers that screamed their statuses as a collection piece, this book had a dull-green cover. Its pages looked thicker and more plasticky compared to the paper the rest of the books used.
Merrion flipped it open, and to her surprise it was a book of physical photographs. She tried to recall the appropriate word, album, yes. It was an album, filled from cover to cover with many photos. Flipping through the pages, she noticed that all the photographs had Edmund in them, and that he was always standing next to this woman.
This woman had long black hair that reached beyond her shoulders and green eyes with a vibrancy that Merrion found to be captivating, even as an image stored upon paper for posterity. Standing next to Edmund, this woman was clearly taller than Merrion, as her eyes were at Edmund's neck-level as compared to Merrion's shoulder-level.
Merrion (thinking): She must have been absolutely enrapturing in person, but…this woman, why does she look…familiar to me?
There was a click sound that made Merrion jump. She reflexively returned the album to its original location in the pile, as if she felt that looking at it was a violation of Edmund's privacy. Edmund looked so happy in those photographs, a sharp contrast to his constantly gruff demeanour that Merrion only ever saw.
Merrion (thinking): That woman must have been very dear to him.
Merrion thought about his smile and realised that she had seen the same smile earlier while they were having dinner, when it had appeared as if he was reminiscing about a better time.
She turned around and saw Edmund step out of the toilet only wearing a pair of shorts. His upper body was toned and surprisingly muscular. Strangely, the skin tone of Edmund's arms didn't match the rest of his body, appearing to possess an unnerving paleness.
Merrion (thinking): It's just the lighting…
Merrion rationalized away the incongruent observation she was making. She felt a heat in her face and realizing that she was probably blushing, ever so slightly. Luckily for her, Edmund was drying his hair, and his towel was blocking her from his sight.
Merrion: "Y – you forgot your shirt."
Merrion blurted out her observation to Edmund, silently cursing her wavering voice for betraying her true feelings.
Merrion (thinking): Please don't notice, please don't notice…
Edmund: "Oh, my bad."
Merrion watched as Edmund disappeared back into the toilet matter-of-factly, emerging a few minutes later with a shirt on and his towel on a hanger.