Edmund approached the dockmaster, who was talking to a medic. Nearby, a medical team was loading up the last of the unconscious dockworkers into a medical evacuation vehicle to transport them over to appropriate care facilities. Edmund waited for the medic to finish his conversation with Derrick before trying to broach the topic.
Edmund: "Derrick, we need to talk."
Derrick: "What is it, Detective? Is it not enough that my men have suffered two surprise attacks in the last two days?"
Edmund: "…"
Derrick: "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for, I'm…just stressed, that's all. Been on a knife's edge, even after that fight was ended. Thanks…for your help, Detective. Thanks to you too, missy. Your partner here said those shots that scattered the wannabe escapees were from you. That was some mighty-fine shooting."
Merrion: "Oh…it was nothing."
Edmund: "Back to topic, Derrick. I'm afraid we cannot delay this. I need a complete cargo manifest for that cargo pod, including all senders and receivers on both ends."
Edmund held up his communicator and flashed the Ten-Winged Flame to the dockmaster. The dockmaster looked at Edmund with a mask of shock plastered across his face.
Derrick: "You – you're one of the Admiralty's dogs."
Edmund: "No, not exactly. This serves as my warrant to obtain the information immediately. Please perform a direct transfer to my communicator, dockmaster. What's happening is bigger than either of us, that much I can tell you. Your cooperation is greatly appreciated, however."
Derrick: "I- I can't say no, not after seeing that damn insignia. You'll just throw me in the slammer for obstruction of justice, or whatever crimes fall under that category. What rotten luck…"
The dockmaster performed a quick series of gestures on his own communicator, followed by a shrill beep from Edmund's communicator.
Derrick: "The manifest has been sent. Sigh…if you still need more information just…tell me. If it helps protect my men from being attacked like this in the future – "
Edmund looked at the dockmaster with resolve firmly crystalized in his eyes, more for the dockmaster's sake than his own, and spoke the words that he was sure the dockmaster wanted to hear, even if he didn't believe it.
Edmund: "It will."
---
A hundred kilometres separated the Mahoney from the Tainah, and numerous tethers dedicated to cargo traffic connected the two vessels, allowing for a large volume of materials to be exchanged between the two vessels. Unfortunately, there was usually not much demand for passenger traffic between the two vessels at midday, and this was turning out to be a problem.
The cargo pod that was launched during the brawl earlier was accelerated along a dedicated cargo-only tether at one standard gravity to its maximum cruising speed, allowing it to cross the tether in slightly under six minutes. This meant that, while Edmund and Merrion had been attempting to extract more information from the conscious thug, the cargo pod had already reached the Tainah. For the dockmaster, watching the taller Edmund hunch over slightly with his communicator held just low enough for Merrion to see whilst standing on tipped toes made for a surprisingly endearing sight.
Edmund scrolled through the cargo manifest while Merrion scanned through it. Cargo frames were listed in monochrome by their serial numbers, with no indication as to the contents inside. Such was the downside of standardized container shipping: complete anonymity of the contents. One by one, the status of the frames within the manifest changed from <
Merrion: "Children of Manovash? Hmm –"
Merrion was sure she had heard that name somewhere before. A feeling of annoyance surfaced alongside the name, which was quickly supressed when Edmund started to talk.
Edmund: "Damn, we took too long. We'll need to head to the Tainah later and check with their cargo terminal if they've spotted anything suspicious happening. That, or we could pay a visit to all the locations listed in this manifest. When's the next tram – ah shit, we just missed it!"
The next passenger tram connecting the Mahoney to the Tainah was slated for arrival at the start of the next hour. Accelerating at only a tenth of standard gravity with the express purpose of not inducing nausea in passengers, it would travel the hundred-kilometre passenger-dedicated tether in slightly under eleven minutes, not including the two and a half minutes at both ends for embarking and disembarking of passengers. A round trip would therefore take slightly under half an hour to complete. By the time the tram returned to the Mahoney, the cargo deliveries would have been completed.
Edmund: "I could invoke the Admiralty's authority and have all the deliveries be interrupted, but that'd cause too much chaos. It would also definitely alert whoever's on the receiving end of the goods that they've been discovered."
Merrion: "We can ask the dockmaster to alert the Tainah's dockworkers. At least they'll be on guard for anyone acting suspiciously there."
Edmund: "Good idea. We should just head back to the Doyle first to discuss our next move. Probably a better idea than just charging in immediately."
---
After informing the dockmaster about the possibility of another attack at the Tainah, Edmund and Merrion left the cargo terminal and headed for the tram terminal to return to the Doyle and strategize about the next course of action.
Walking through the central district of the Mahoney, the two detectives spotted a small food stand amongst many others in a food market selling a local favourite: a thin crepe wrapped around a central filling of dough fritters, vegetables, crushed nuts and sauces. The fragrant aroma of freshly cooked food wafted through the air; a siren call to the stomachs of both Edmund and Merrion. Without further discussion, they both deviated from their initial course and approached the food stand vendor, who was handling a bucket filled with batter mix.
Suddenly, something bumped into Merrion from the right, knocking her slightly off course. Feeling something reach into her left pocket, she immediately turned to face the strange sensation and grabbed onto a small and slender wrist.
A wild pair of eyes stared back at Merrion from the dishevelled face of a short and scrawny boy that couldn't have been any older than ten years of age. This boy – no, this pickpocket had attempted to rifle through her skirt pocket. Whatever had bumped into her from the right had clearly been a distraction for this kid to quickly complete his nefarious deeds and then make a quick escape. He might even have gotten away with it too if it wasn't for her lightning-quick reflexes.
The pickpocket writhed about, trying to free himself from her grip. Merrion wasn't strong, not by any means, but she was certainly strong enough to restrain a prepubescent boy, especially one who appeared so blatantly malnourished.
A flash of recognition crossed Merrion's mind. She recognized the same eyes and stature that she had seen the day before. He was still clad in the same rags as the previous day, but the gloves covering his hands were now gone.
Merrion (thinking): This boy is the same boy from outside the Void Mamba hideout. Why are all these Void Mamba-related people showing up now?
After a brief struggle, the pickpocket stopped trying to escape. Instead, he reached out with his other free hand, and grabbed onto her wrist with his bare hands. The pickpocket smiled with the nervous grin of a person who believed that they were about to get the upper hand upon an opponent, which quickly turned into confusion as Merrion furrowed her brows. Had he expected something to happen when he grabbed her wrist? That was the only possible conclusion for his expression.
Vendor: "Arrgh!"
A loud shout came from the stall vendor, followed by a crashing and splattering sound. Merrion flicked her eyes over and saw that the vendor's bucket of batter now lay on the floor; its contents spilt upon the floor and flowing towards the nearest drainage grate. The shock made her loosen her grip ever so slightly, which was just enough for the pickpocket to wriggle free from her grasp! Quickly, the pickpocket scrabbled to his feet and dashed away into the distance, followed close behind by another, taller boy. The food vendor grabbed his metal spatula and ran after the pickpocket duo, screaming bloody murder at them. Merrion patted down her pocket, and to her relief her communicator was still there.
Edmund: "Did they get anything of yours?"
His voice was concerned and angry at the same time.
Merrion: "Nope, thankfully. I caught him before he could grab my communicator. What about you? Don't tell me they –"
Edmund: "No, I'm good too. The other urchin that knocked into you, I kicked him into the food stand. Might've kicked him slightly too hard though, when the kid got up he was looking woozy and crashed into the vendor, spilling the batter. No matter, they're dumb enough to try and pickpocket FID personnel, which means that they won't last long. Let's go. We'll get something to eat when we reach the Doyle."
Merrion nodded. She had handled many pickpocket cases during her first year on the job. Most of them were committed by unlicensed children, born from unregistered couplings by people who lived outside of the jurisdiction of the Admiralty. Many died young from birth defects caused by improper nutrition, and those who survived long enough to grow larger would get stuck in a duct that they could previously use as an escape route and die inside. The newsfeeds often ran with sensationalist stories detailing maintenance teams extracting the skeletons of children from ventilation ducts using maintenance constructs.
It was sad, but in most of these cases, there was nothing that could be done for them. No one knew exactly how many unrecognized individuals lived across the numerous ships large enough to tolerate such inefficiencies, but Merrion suspected that if they bothered to find out, the truth might be far more horrifying than anyone dared to imagine.
That thought festered in her mind as she followed behind Edmund, the two of them continuing their walk to the tram terminal, leaving behind the food market and the hubbub of other hungry customers.
---
Edmund: "We've got good news and bad news for you. Which do you want to hear first?"
Zora: "What kind of choice is that?"
Edmund and Merrion were back in Zora's office, and they were both munching on sandwiches bought from the Doyle's canteen. Edmund's expression remained constant, and Zora sighed.
Zora: "Fine, start with the good news."
Edmund: "The good news is that we were able to stop the attack on the dockworkers. The attackers were Void Mamba-related, and we got a clue to the mastermind behind it."
Zora: "The bad news?"
Edmund: "The bad news is that our visit to Omar yesterday spooked him. He left the Mahoney and now the criminal elements that he was keeping in check aboard it will now end up increasing."
Zora: "For fu –"
Edmund: "And the attackers were sent by Anant."
Zora: "No…not him. Of all the people, why him?!"
---
Merrion sat in the chair, quietly munching on her sandwich when Zora's sudden expression of shock and surprise caught her off guard. She swallowed down the mouthful of sandwich and readied a question.
Merrion: "Inspector, who's this Anant? Is he dangerous?"
Zora made a quick gesture in response, and an image was projected upon the wall. It was the profile photo of a man holding a prisoner information card and standing against the background used when newly incarcerated prisoners had their photos taken, retrieved from the Fleet Investigation Division's database.
Zora: "Anant was a Void Mamba Syndicate member. A few years back, he was a direct subordinate of Omar, serving as one of his enforcer lieutenants, but they had a falling out when Anant was promoted to a Captain equal in standing to Omar. You see, the issue was that the two apparently had conflicting views about how to advance the syndicate. We don't know the nitty gritty details of the conflict, but Omar held more sway with the syndicate's boss, and his views were chosen over Anant's."
Merrion: "But if that were all, why do we have a dossier for him stored in the database, as well as a prison mugshot?"
Edmund: "Because – about five years ago, we nabbed Anant in a sting operation that took down one of the Void Mamba Syndicate's more extremist cells. The operation was only a success thanks to insider information that we had."
Merrion: "Insider information? But that would mean that…"
It was beginning to come together for Merrion. Why did Edmund know Omar? Why did he suddenly leave the Mahoney for somewhere else after they visited him? Why did Omar provide a tip off for Edmund via an encrypted message? It was all because –
Merrion: "Omar's your guy on the inside…"
Zora: "That's right. Unfortunately, Anant was prepared for us, and while most of the more extremist grunts and lieutenants serving him were successfully locked away or executed, there was insufficient evidence that was available to indict Anant without compromising Omar's safety. He was released from the prisons about two years ago, and to the best of our knowledge he's embraced religion and spirituality. We thought that with his supporters and followers all but annihilated, he'd be neutralized. Looks like we were naïve to think so…"
Edmund: "Doesn't change what we need to do. We need to continue investigating. Right now, it appears that the attackers were merely serving as a distraction. The camera system of the cargo terminal was definitely being interfered with. My suspicion is that our missing cryocasket was loaded onto that cargo pod and transferred to the Tainah. The other cargo frames aboard that pod were destined for waste reclamation and recycling facilities, so we can safely rule out most of the destinations. The last destination stands out, however."
Zora scrolled down the manifest on her own communicator. Edmund had sent it to her when he and Merrion first arrived back aboard the Doyle.
Zora: "The Children of Manovash. Database indicates it's a religious organization, with numerous facilities scattered across the sectors. They mainly operate in the 7th, 8th and 9th Sectors, with a lesser presence in the others. Interesting."
The instant Merrion heard Zora mention religious organization, a flash of realization crossed her mind. She opened her communicator and swiped through the message archive, searching for where she was sure she had seen that name before while she continued to listen, half-focused, to the conversation between Edmund and Zora.
Edmund: "Do the Children have premises aboard the Tainah?"
Zora: "Looks like they do, according to the database. Don't tell me you're –"
Edmund: "We need to investigate them. The other facilities won't go through the cargo frames, they'll automatically unload their contents straight into the machinery for reprocessing. Only the Children's delivery strikes me as giving our corpse-snatchers enough time to intercept and retrieve the cryocasket within, assuming they have it at all. It's a long shot, but I'm convinced it's worth it."
Zora: "You do realize that if Anant is involved, you can't go in right? Both of you know what the other looks like; your very presence will set off alarms for him. Plus, we can't just rock up to their facilities and demand them to open up. We'll need a warrant to do so, and – I can see that look on your face, you know – if you show the Admiralty's seal you'll only spook them further!"
Edmund: "Then what do you suggest? Have us sit on our arses and twiddle our thumbs waiting for the bureaucrats to approve our request on this time-sensitive mission? No, I say we rock up, break in the damn door and – "
Merrion: "Erm –"
Merrion, speaking in a small voice, piped up amidst the bickering between Edmund and Zora.
Merrion: "– I don't think we'll need to get a warrant. I found something, take a look."
She flicked her fingers across her communicator, bringing up the religious outreach messages that had been plaguing her for the past few days, and projected it upon the wall, next to the mugshot of Anant.
The digital poster was elaborately decorated with intricate twisting and swirling patterns at its periphery that made its reader's vision swirl and distort if stared at for too long. But the patterns were not what Merrion was focused upon, for, in big and elaborately calligraphic font on the poster, was the following text:
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< The rest of the poster was occupied by a list of communicator contact addresses, Network address vectors, and a single physical coordinate located aboard the Tainah. Conveniently, the welcome tea was scheduled for later in the evening. Zora: "Well. This is…certainly convenient. I'll put in the application for warrants to search other premises, but in the meantime we can take advantage of this to do a preliminary investigation – " Edmund: "I'll go. It's too dangerous to send in both Merrion and myself, so I'll go in alone." Zora: "Were you even listening?! He'll be spooked the instant he sees you!" Edmund: "If he's there, then – " Zora: "Are you suggesting we take that chance?! If he has any followers there they'll be watching out for you, or anyone remotely resembling you!" Edmund: "No, but I'm saying that –" Hearing Zora and Edmund shout back and forth made Merrion's head throb with a dull ache. Having Edmund enter the premises ran the risk that their cover would be instantly blown. While there was no guarantee that Anant or anyone involved with him would be present at the premises, the aim was to maximise their chances of success. And if that was the case, then the best course of action was simple. Merrion: "I'll go alone, Inspector."