Concept YUS (Cross-World Murder Cases Book 1) Read online

  Concept Yus

  Set Wagner

  Copyright © 2017 Set Wagner

  All rights reserved.

  Published by GRAVADANS PUBLISHING

  ISBN: 0995740402

  ISBN 13: 9780995740402

  Cover art: YOULL ILLUSTRATION

  Cover design: LOOSE CHANGE STUDIO

  Contents

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Part Two

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Part Three

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Part Four

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  I was at the Special Sector gate ten minutes early. I thought this would give me enough time to make my appointment, but the exaggerated formalities before I was allowed to enter took longer than I expected. Then I learned that Enzo Genetti, the chief of the sector and the person on whose behalf I was supposedly invited here, didn’t even know about our meeting. While his secretary looked for him, or for some other unknown reason, I was kept waiting at the gate.

  It was nearly noon when I finally arrived at Genetti’s office. I knocked, took the raspy exclamation from within as an invitation, and walked in. Behind a huge desk boasting only a telephone sat a dry old man, around seventy, in a baggy laboratory jacket with rolled-up sleeves.

  “So you’re Terence Simon!” he said accusingly, his near-sighted eyes flashing. Clearly unhappy with my appearance, he glared at me as I sat down across from him. After staring a few seconds longer, he suddenly blurted out, “You’re young. You don’t look more than thirty!”

  He shook his head reproachfully.

  “Mmm, yes—obviously Franklin underestimated.”

  “Professor, it would be best not to question my chief’s judgment,” I suggested coldly. “If you really need the cooperation of the International Bureau of Investigation, let’s not waste time with unnecessary chitchat.”

  But the white-haired scientist had already turned away and was looking somewhere to the side, slowly rubbing his finger against his unshaved cheek. That quiet, but intrusive, scraping sound emphasized the silence between us, increasing my anxiety. All morning a premonition of imminent danger had haunted me, which increased rapidly as I shifted in the uncomfortable chair, waiting for Genetti to turn back and explain why I was here.

  “I’m listening to you,” I finally said, encouraging him.

  “Good!” he said intimidatingly. “Then listen well. About a year ago, we were given an opportunity to establish a colony on another planet. The first and only one—for now. You would be wise to take careful note of this, Simon! So, in complete secrecy, our sector was established for the specific purpose of preparing and organizing that colonization.”

  “Established by whom?” I asked.

  “The Center for Space Exploration, naturally,” Genetti replied, not very convincingly, and continued quickly. “Preparations are nearly complete. According to the plan, colonization was scheduled to begin in two months.” Narrowing his eyes, Genetti leaned toward me and added sadly, “But that is no longer possible. Now its initiation depends on you. And please understand this: the sooner, the better! Mmm…yes…the sooner.”

  As his voice faltered, I sensed his unease and again took the initiative. “Please be more specific, Professor. How can the IBI be of use to you?”

  Genetti peeled a soiled Band-Aid off his right thumb and stared closely at an almost imperceptible scratch. “Two scientists at the base are dead,” he murmured.

  “I see.” I automatically added, “Under what circumstances?”

  “I don’t know. All I know is that they died at the same time, one hundred ninety-seven days after they landed on the planet.”

  “Was it homicide? Or an accident?”

  “Unfortunately, it’s possible it wasn’t homicide.” Genetti examined his hands.

  “‘Unfortunately’? How should I interpret that, Professor?”

  He raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. “Isn’t it clear to you what such an accident would mean? Postponing colonization for fact-finding commissions and investigations, maybe even a public scandal, would compromise the whole project—not just this sector but the center itself!”

  I shrugged my shoulders. The prestige of the center didn’t concern me much. I opened my mouth to say that, but Genetti stopped me with an abrupt gesture.

  “An unfortunate incident like this could mean something worse, Simon. Something much more frightening.”

  Rising, he began pacing back and forth, rubbing his chin and grimacing, sighing loudly and throwing me meaningful glances. If he wanted to pressure me with such obviously contrived and theatrical gestures, he would never succeed. On the other hand, his circuitous talk and abrupt shifts had already pushed my patience close to the limit.

  “And what would that something be, Professor?” I inquired, still politely.

  “What would it be!” he exclaimed. “Yes, I’ll tell you. Conflict with the Yusians—that’s what!” Observing the surprised expression on my face with satisfaction, he concluded, “Well, how do you feel about that, Inspector Simon?”

  When I didn’t respond, Genetti fell or, to be more precise, collapsed into his chair.

  “The problem, Simon, is that the planet we intend to colonize belongs to the Yusians. They had just given us permission to settle it. It’s very close to Yus.”

  “To where!” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Close to Yus?”

  “Yes, it’s in the Ridon and Shidexa system. That’s the reason for—” He shuddered and worriedly looked around. “But the details aren’t important. What matters is that the colonization must take place as soon as possible.”

  “Even if the unfortunate incident was caused by conditions on the planet?”

  “Maybe…yes…no, no! Only an unpredictable anomaly could have caused the incident—nothing else seems likely! The data is unambiguous: according to all life indices, Eyrena is almost like Earth.”

  “Almost?”

  “Yes, since in many respects, conditions there are better than on Earth: rich vegetation, a more temperate climate, and more oxygen. In short, picture Earth, but without people, and then you will understand what Eyrena is like.”

  “Who is the source of this data? The Yusians?”

  “Yes, they provided both a general overview of the planet and specific details. And I repeat,” Genetti emphasized with growing irritation, “conditions there are ideal.”

  “Or ideal for dying,” I noted. “How many people are still at the base?”

  “Five—three men and two women.”

  “What shape are they in?”

  �
�They’re in perfect physical condition.”

  “And psychological?”

  “They are very stable, Simon. As you might guess, they were not chosen randomly. I assume their psychological condition is still good. While the incident probably upset them, it would hardly have thrown them off balance.”

  “‘I assume,’ ‘probably,’ ‘hardly’—your expressions are very indefinite, Professor.”

  “I’m afraid you’re right. We haven’t received detailed information from them. The distance and these disruptions—”

  “How long have they been on Eyrena? How often have you been in contact with them?” I really needed more precise information.

  The professor was obviously under great strain. Our meeting was no doubt being monitored and recorded, which forced him to respond not only to me but also to the hidden microphones and cameras planted around us. That came with the territory for the head of a “Special Sector.”

  “Today is the—one hundred ninety-ninth day—of their stay,” he said, pausing between his words and rocking dangerously on the back legs of his chair. “And we have had seven transmissions. The last one was yesterday. That is when we learned of the accident.”

  “Really? And what’s the average amount of information you receive during one transmission?”

  “About a megabyte.”

  “Very strange, Professor!” I stopped trying to hide my indignation. “Just how do you intend to accomplish this colonization? This planet is no one knows how many light-years from Earth, so we would be completely dependent on the Yusians. Given that fact, who in their right minds would volunteer to travel to Eyrena, even if it is as hospitable as you claim? And if there are volunteers, do you really have the right to send them?”

  While I was talking, Genetti had unexpectedly become livelier. He was nodding energetically, even approvingly, but that just increased my irritation. Why was he agreeing with me? Wasn’t he one of the creators of this insane project?

  “To launch a handful of volunteers without providing them with at least moral support,” I continued, “to send them such a distance, and to leave them completely dependent upon the kindness of the Yusians—that’s a crime! A vile betrayal.”

  “Spare me your personal feelings, Simon!” His voice sounded surprisingly sharp. “I’m trying to answer your questions, and that effort is more than enough for me.”

  He leaned back and slightly narrowed his eyes. His lips briefly seemed to form a thin, guilty smile, but I could have been wrong. I resumed the conversation, trying to avoid any hint of emotion.

  “What’s your plan for the first phase of the colonization?”

  “On the appointed day, a ship will leave for Eyrena carrying only the colonists. Everything they need to sustain themselves will be sent from Yus.”

  “Who will be the first colonists?”

  “Mostly volunteers, plus certain others—convicted criminals and the terminally ill.”

  “Do the Yusians know that?”

  “Yes.”

  “And they agree?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the friends and relatives of the convicts and the terminally ill—do they know?”

  “They will be informed.”

  “And you think they will give their permission?”

  “They won’t be asked. Well, except for the closest relatives of the mentally ill, of course,” Genetti explained with sudden enthusiasm. “And the convicts will go to Eyrena voluntarily, since they will be freed there. We should have little trouble convincing the terminally ill that it is also in their best interests; you have no idea what healing powers the Yusians are said to possess!”

  “And are you aware of the other rumors about the Yusians?” I asked acidly.

  He thought that over but finally dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “Rumors, merely rumors! I know of no confirmed incident where a Yusian has ever done—well, what they have been accused of doing. Of course, no Yusian has ever demonstrated healing powers either. But think about why that might be so: you know how limited our contacts have been with them. Under other conditions, however, why not? We can’t be sure, right? So do we have the right to discourage the terminally ill from joining the colonists? They believe. Believe! Do you understand—”

  I cut him off. “And what about the second phase of colonization?”

  “There is no second phase. As soon as the ship arrives, a closed system will be formed: the Yus-Eyrena system.”

  “How will this happen?”

  Leaning his elbows on the desk, he cracked his knuckles loudly and replied, “After the colonization, all communication between this system and Earth will be suspended for thirty years.”

  I hid my consternation, though it wasn’t easy. “But why?” I asked quietly. “What purpose could that serve?”

  “Those were the explicit conditions of our agreement, without which the Yusians would have refused to sign. And as to what our purpose is, even a child could understand that.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t mean your purpose, Professor. I meant the Yusian—”

  “Which makes your question even more meaningless,” he snapped. “You know very well that their purposes have never been understandable to any human.”

  “So what you’re saying is that you’ve entered into this agreement on faith, is that it?”

  Genetti didn’t answer me, but he didn’t have to. Clearly, he had not been a party to either the negotiations or the so-called agreement. Someone at a much higher level had chosen to take this huge risk. But who? And why had the two of us been brought together here—this old man and me, two pawns in that someone’s dangerous, maybe corrupt, game?

  “Please show me yesterday’s transmission, Professor.”

  “There’s no need. I can quote the relevant part for you: ‘Andrew Fowler and Hans Stein: dead. Date: March the twenty-sixth. Reasons: unknown.’ That’s it.”

  “Hmm. Are the people at the base working together with the Yusians?”

  Genetti blinked, frightened. “With the Yusians?”

  “Yes. What are the relations between your people and them?”

  Perfect,” he announced after a brief estimation, “because they’ve never met. The Yusians have a base about fifteen kilometers from ours, but so far they haven’t paid us a single visit. Nor have we visited them, as you probably guessed yourself. Nor have we!” He grabbed his head and laughed—a short, loud, artificial laugh.

  “But they must have established contact.”

  “No contact! Everyone minds his or her own business, and that’s it!”

  “What work did Fowler and Stein do?”

  “Those at the base have many assigned tasks, Simon. With such a small group, that is necessary,” Genetti responded evasively.

  But that nonanswer gave me a pretty good idea: they were laying the foundations for an espionage network at the base on Eyrena, while, of course, they were also preparing to establish the colony. And the Yusians established their base not only to assist colonization but also to prevent our lingering beyond that period. Ah, but it would be good to get under their skin! And to get them out from under ours, even if only for thirty years. But at what price? Again I had to ask myself what devil would agree to such a cost of human lives?

  “Professor, who chose the experts for this mission?”

  “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “At a certain point in our preparations here, we informed those in charge at the center how many people we needed and what their skills should be. In a month they arrived—the exact personnel we had requested, without backups. After another month of training, they left for Eyrena.”

  “During their training you formed some opinion about their qualifications, didn’t you?”

  “No, I never even met them. As head of the sector, my duties are more theoretical and administrative.”

  “OK, but what do you expect of me? As I understand it, only you can give me the information I need, and it seems that you can tell me almost nothing.”

>   “Ah, as you put it yourself, ‘almost.’ At least I have given you the general picture—as much as that’s possible.”

  He reached for the telephone and picked up the receiver, held it in his hand for a while, and then put it back in its cradle. Then he went to the door and somehow opened it with his back, without taking his eyes off me. A trembling smile, like a nervous tic, appeared on his lips. After a few seconds, a middle-aged, poker-faced woman walked briskly into the office. Genetti led her to a huge cabinet near the window, unlocked it, and moved aside. From where I sat, I could see that it contained a massive, fireproof safe. When the woman bent to unlock it, I noticed the unmistakable bulge of a revolver beneath her simple, loose-fitting suit jacket. Function obviously outweighed fashion even for women in this business. She entered the triple code that opened the safe before silently leaving us.

  Genetti took out a small black briefcase. “This is for you,” he nearly shouted, moving toward the desk. “I’m leaving you the key too, and later you’ll receive the code for the case inside. I assume it contains the files of those—at the base. Probably other papers as well.”

  He gripped the handle of the briefcase so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His eyes wandered wildly above my head; little drops of sweat glistened on his forehead. Something was clearly wrong, but I couldn’t quite understand what.

  “Thank you, Professor.” I tried to include a warning note in my voice. “I hope these documents will help me complete my assignment.”

  Trembling as if with a chill, he pushed the briefcase across the desk, took an uncertain step backward, and then sat down heavily and pressed his temples with his hands. Whatever was causing his distress, I felt it would be best for both of us if he tried to pull himself together, so I quickly asked another question.

  “When can you give me a copy of the official agreement?”

  “I have no such copy.” He spoke so quietly that I could barely hear him.

  “Oh, please, Professor! How can you not have a copy? I thought your work was governed by its specific requirements. Or did I misunderstand you?”

  Genetti regarded me with a weary hostility as I continued to badger him.

  “Surely, signing the agreement committed us to particular obligations that needed to be fulfilled—and fulfilled diligently. I mean, we’re talking about Yusians, not some charitable organization. Isn’t that so, Professor Genetti? Yet now you tell me that the sector charged with carrying out those obligations has no idea what they are? Your sector must be very ‘Special’ indeed!”