Concept YUS (Cross-World Murder Cases Book 1) Page 21

  “Maybe,” I said dismissively, “but you have to prove that.”

  “You mean by giving you the name of the murderer? No, Inspector! I’ll let you protect your reputation by finding that out for yourself.”

  Unfortunately, Zung’s agent had his boss’s talent for insinuation and his penchant for getting on the nerves of the person he was talking to.

  “Look, Reder.” I too smiled. “Our conversation today is not going to be like the one we had the day before yesterday in the morning. You would be wise to recognize the difference.”

  “Well, yes, then you were—let’s say, kinder.”

  “That’s true,” I said. “And today I even forgot to ask you how you are feeling. Is your stomach still bothering you?”

  “My stomach?” Reder repeated the question foolishly.

  “I see. So it’s not bothering you.” I took the bottle of Sizoral from my pocket and showed it to him. “In that case, I’ll confiscate your ‘medication.’ Without it, you should be very happy to see Ridon rise tomorrow.”

  “You’re wrong!” This time he laughed openly. “I’ve been overcoming the euphoria without these pills for a long time. And that morning I told you the truth: Odesta was a traitor. You saw that for yourself, didn’t you?”

  “With your help. You directed me very cleverly to the ‘deserted’ Yusian base.”

  “I was glad to help.”

  “And so tactfully too. Instead of helping me directly, you chose to use someone else.”

  “Simon, I’ll confess something to you. I specifically chose Elia for this purpose because I have the impression that you prefer her company to mine. Or am I wrong?”

  “By the way,” I changed the subject, recalling the reprogrammed Yusian machine burrowing through the layers of rock. “Why did you discharge Elia’s transformer? In order to kill us?”

  “Now you’re contradicting yourself,” Reder noted. “I wanted you to meet Odesta, so why would I kill you—before that happened?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe either of those two alternatives would have satisfied you.”

  “I’m not a murderer, Simon,” he objected. Then he added, with infuriating intimacy, “Unlike you.”

  I jumped up and grabbed him by the collar of the shirt, pulling him toward me. His chair fell gently to the carpet. Reder struggled, panting into my face. I let him go and then hit him hard on the jaw with my fist. He collapsed on the floor next to the desk. He lay there for some time, his hands spread, his head bent to one side. Then he slowly opened his eyes and immediately reached for the flexor on his belt. I stepped on his hand.

  “Take the belt off,” I commanded. “Take it off and throw it next to the door!”

  He started to undo the metal buckle. He was taking his time, moaning, coughing. Suddenly he jumped to his feet, quick as a cat, and struck me across the throat with the belt. While I was swaying and choking, Reder grabbed for the chair and smashed its wooden back against my forehead. As I fell, I managed to take out my flexor. I pointed it at him.

  “Throw—at the door.” I couldn’t think of the whole phrase. I was losing consciousness, the familiar salty taste of blood in my mouth.

  Reder stood a meter away from me, obviously hesitating, hoping I would faint.

  “Come on.” I moved the trigger of my flexor to the ready position.

  My action convinced him to throw the belt in the ordered direction. I wiped the blood from my face with my empty hand. I still felt faint but was gradually improving. I just needed a little rest. I crawled to the wall, leaned against it, and tried to breathe normally. It wasn’t easy—I still felt spasms in my throat from that hit with the metal buckle.

  Reder pulled out another chair and sat in front of me. He didn’t look well either—his lower jaw was swelling fast. Then he grimaced and spat a big yellowish molar on the floor.

  The silence between us dragged out a long time. Finally I said, “Something connected with the last package from Earth made Stein go to the Yusian base on the morning of the twenty-sixth. What was it?”

  “I couldn’t find out,” Reder answered gloomily.

  “But you overheard the conversation he had with Fowler beforehand, right?”

  “No. I saw him call somebody on the mobile phone, but at that time I didn’t know it was Fowler. Nor could I hear what Stein was saying to him. It was just one short phrase. Obviously they had arranged everything in advance.”

  Reder’s openness didn’t surprise me. He must have decided there was no point in denying facts I had already guessed. Then by adding some details I didn’t already know, he was directing my suspicions away from him.

  “Go on,” I encouraged him. “What did Stein do then?”

  “He convinced the robot that he was going to the area where I was supposed to be but, when he was out of sight, changed his direction and came here to my study. He knew I was going to be out, so he must have decided to remove the restrictions on his data bank using my computer but to avoid the questions I would have asked had he personally given me the code.”

  “And why did he need to remove the restrictions at all?”

  “I suppose he wanted to leave his research behind as a legacy.” Reder sighed mockingly. “Maybe he expected something bad to happen to him while he was with the Yusians.”

  I put the flexor on my knees. “Drop that nonsense about the Yusians. You know they wouldn’t directly touch anybody.”

  He clapped his hands just like Zung “Oh, yes! Those nice creatures!” His swollen face twisted as if he were going to have an epileptic seizure. “These wise, generous benefactors who give us toy houses, towns, planets—and—desks instead of candy!” He slammed his open palm against his desk. “Oh, yes! How could they hurt us! Well, if we don’t mind them, they might spank us a little, of course, but—”

  “Knock it off!” I yelled.

  Reder stopped and blinked, as if just waking up.

  “Where did Stein go after he left his ‘legacy’?” I asked immediately.

  “I didn’t follow him after that. I just saw him go in the direction of our base, not toward the Yusians.”

  “Of course. He had to collect the microdisk first.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t know that until I read his orders later from my computer. In fact, that’s when I also realized that he was planning to visit the Yusians.”

  “What time was that?”

  “About eight fifteen.”

  “Then why didn’t you alarm the others until twelve ten?”

  “Isn’t that obvious? If I had, they would have known that I was spying on him.”

  “What other reason, Reder? What were you doing during those hours?”

  “Whatever it was, Simon, I didn’t kill anybody or want things to get to this point.”

  “You didn’t want to kill him, but as with Odesta, you didn’t exclude the possibility, right?”

  “No, I didn’t, but—”

  “But for you, the beliefs of Vey A. Zung outweighs all other considerations,” I finished.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” he repeated pathetically. “His beliefs are also mine! And every real person shares them too. Without them, every human being is doomed to failure, Simon! Complete failure!”

  “Failure because of people like you!”

  My last words disgusted him so much that he could hardly breathe. “And you—you’re a traitor as well! You’re ready to betray the human race out of cowardice and false scruples. But in thirty years, we can put an end to their designs on our Earth! And maybe an end to their dirty, alien civilization.” He choked and started waving his hands.

  I looked at him in disgust. How many more maniacs like him would arrive on this planet? How many more crazed, anthropocentric bigots? “What was Stein’s purpose,” I continued coldly, “in approaching the Yusians with a copy of his research findings?”

  “I have no idea,” he hissed.

  “Oh, I’m sure you know perfectly well why he went. That’s exactly why I’m asking you again: Wha
t did you do on the twenty-sixth between eight fifteen and twelve ten?”

  “I read a novel, went for a walk, enjoyed the moon—sorry, the sun—and daydreamed.”

  “I’m warning you, Reder—”

  “No, I am warning you: stop annoying me! Or else the base commander will find out today who killed Odesta.”

  “But he will also find out that you killed Fowler and Stein.”

  “What kind of inspector are you?” He pretended to be surprised. “Don’t you already know that Odesta, yes, Odesta killed them?”

  “Possibly.” I pretended to consider this alternative. “But if that’s true, why did you cover for her for so long? Why didn’t you tell the others about her visits to the old Yusian base? What about Stein’s orders, given from your computer? How did this get into your safe?” I pointed to the replica of Odesta. “How did you acquire a whole bottle of Sizoral? Should I go on?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” I stood up and again pointed the flexor at him. “Forward Stein’s research results to my restricted data bank.”

  He shook his head.

  “Forward them,” I repeated.

  He could tell just by looking at me that he needed to obey immediately. He went to the computer. I stood behind him, making sure he followed my instructions. When he was done, I took his belt with the flexor in its holster. I pulled the blinds up and opened the window. The strange radiance flowing up from the ground flooded the study. A hollow rumbling sound filled the black sky.

  “Ha, ha, ha!” Reder laughed loudly. “Here we are arguing, fighting—in what may be the last moments of our lives!”

  “What do you mean?” I turned to him and asked a silly question, “Is a storm coming?”

  “A storm? Oh, yes, a storm. An Eyrenean storm!”

  He stopped laughing. Obviously our argument had made him forget the nightmare outside, but now, in the depths of those washed-out eyes, I could read only one emotion: terror. But anyway, as I was leaving, I threw his flexor deep into the ferns.

  Chapter 25

  Elia and Jerry were waiting for me in front of the shuttle. What a picture: a pale, tense woman unconsciously pursing her lips tightly, a trembling puppy standing next to her, and a tired man trudging toward them, his steps heavy, feigningly confident. Under an impossible black sky on a narrow road between foliage that bore only the slightest resemblance to ferns on Earth.

  I stopped, and Elia stared worriedly at the wound on my forehead. Then she took from her pocket a fine silk handkerchief and carefully began to wipe off the dried blood. I think I needed this useless gesture more than anything else at the moment.

  “My shuttle landed without my giving it a command, over there near the pillars,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t reactivate it.”

  “What about this one?”

  “It’s paralyzed too. But maybe the jeep.”

  I shook my head. “The jeep is on its way to the base.” Two minutes after I left his study, Reder had zoomed past me in the vehicle.

  I took Jerry in my arms, and we walked silently through the ferns. Now they were moving slightly, but since there was no breeze at the moment, this fact depressed me even more than when they stood like frozen fossils. Something was stripping their fronds, cutting out little circles that fell around us like confetti thrown by invisible hands and whispered to the ground. Under their whispering cover, the streaming light was dimming, its brightness melting into a soft violet radiance. The feeling of danger was melting in me as well, being replaced by a steady, completely inappropriate, quietness.

  I looked at Elia as she walked next to me, smiling almost against her will. Her smooth forehead wrinkled slightly as her eyes wandered aimlessly. No, she shouldn’t smile like that, I thought, but when I tried to tell her so, no sound came out of my mouth. I felt like I was smiling too. Jerry was drowsing, his head buried under my arm.

  We reached the break in the ferns where the pillars began, stopped, and slowly turned back to watch the ferns rocking almost ritualistically. Their fronds shed the last remaining spores, sharply revealing their naked skeletons in the dark. Each was identical, without a central line, constructed instead of thick strings crossing each other, and the branches connecting them with the stems ended in hooked spikes.

  These spikes were obviously withering. While we watched, they started bending under their own weight, falling off the stems with a silent, monotonous rattle. The ferns gradually became smaller copies of the pillars. The ground around them started heaving, erupted in a yellowish foam, and then everything dead and useless downed in it without a trace. Would we have drowned as well, had we still been standing there?

  “Let’s go!” Elia said.

  We walked back into the ghostly light, along the old pillars, once more overcome by that intrusive sense of quietness. I knew I should resist, but I only bent, put the puppy on the ground, and when got up, saw the apathetic smile of Elia.

  Jerry started running around us with unnaturally long jumps, his fur glowing and bristling. As the tip of every single hair lightened, we could see only his sparkling outline, a cartoon dog figure. A muffled roar still filled the sky, and the pillars were shivering like dark creatures trying to catch their breath. We floated deeper and deeper into the stand of pillars with the graceful ease of phantoms. Apparently the gravitational pull had weakened, but that didn’t bother me. In fact, nothing bothered me anymore.

  I don’t know how far we walked like this. Maybe a long way, or maybe not. The road was always the same, pillars and more pillars.

  “Jerry,” Elia murmured suddenly, extending her arm toward the dog and then letting it drop as she leaned against one of the pillars. “Jerry, Jerry,” she repeated faintly as her eyes closed in an oblivion that was easily overtaking me as well.

  I leaned next to her. The pillar was slippery and warm. I could hear the sound of hard clinking particles coursing through it. I slowly reached for Elia’s hand.

  “Let’s go.”

  We kept moving south, toward the hill in the distance, walking in a dreamlike trance. I couldn’t even feel the touch of her hand in mine, nor did I wish to. I was overtaken by a silent, pleasant faintness, as if I were blending with someone else, someone passing through me, someone with elusive thoughts, feelings, moves—and passing on. Particles of another life, incomprehensible to me.

  A force lifted me gently up and then set me back down. And up again. The ground was breathing. Deeply and monotonously. Its wide chest released streams of concentrated air. Or streams of countless living moments? The pillars were inhaling them though their warm cracks. Starting to grow, filling up with them, splitting in two, three parts. No, this wasn’t an illusion. They were becoming tall five-trunk plants.

  “They are…going to…turn into trees,” I said slowly.

  “Like the…ferns…turned into pillars,” answered Elia, as if with my voice.

  With my voice! I tried to draw her closer to me but couldn’t feel her body next to mine. “Are you here, Elia?”

  “Are you here, Elia?” I asked again. This time it seemed my voice came from outside of me!

  My hair stood up. I slowly turned toward the voice, expecting to see—me. I didn’t see anybody. But then my sense of touch returned, and I felt Elia’s hand again. I held it tightly and started running past the pillars that were turning into trees. I couldn’t hear our steps or our breathing. I couldn’t hear anything but the crackling of invisible spider webs.

  I didn’t stop until we reached the steep hill. Waves of melted Eyrena soil slowly flowed down like lava, stopped at the foot of the hill, and crested to cover the layers already there.

  “But where…where…were you?” Elia moaned. I hugged her; she was shivering. She looked at the pillars. “I felt like there was only me…and…me!”

  She leaned on my chest quietly, drained. I caressed her tousled hair. Only when Jerry whimpered at our feet did we remember him. We looked at each other, feeling guilty. Elia took him in her arms and started
to weep. There was nothing I could tell her to make her stop.

  We were at the edge of the forest that adjoined the base, but it looked like a normal forest less than ever. The trees were growing incredibly fast, their colossal five-trunk bodies stretching up and splitting into the black sky in uncontrollable yellow metastasis.

  “We have to go,” I muttered.

  “No, not through the forest!” Elia buried her face in Jerry’s sparkling fur. “Let’s go around!”

  I hesitated. To go around meant to go past the cones on the other side of the hill, from where the “ground” kept flowing. Ground that was more like thick, flaky flesh, slowly shaken loose from hands hidden behind the ridge.

  “OK, Elia,” I said softly. “We’ll try to climb the hill here.”

  She snuggled Jerry against her and humbly climbed the hill like a doomed victim. I took the lead, but how could I save her from this? I walked faster and faster, always expecting to sink into the melted ground. At least that would stop her—warn her.

  But I soon realized I wasn’t going to sink. The irresistible lightness I felt before had taken over me again and was pulling me up the hill, away from those two unprotected companions behind me. My love for them transformed into unbearable pain, maybe because I felt it slipping away too. This human, earthly love was leaving me now like a fading memory.

  I looked back. Elia and Jerry were melting into the violet light. They were disappearing, and I was forgetting them. I desperately strained my memory. Elia and Jerry, Elia and Jerry—just names. Then I forgot even the names.

  New incomprehensible images washed over me. I sensed that someone was whispering important messages, but I couldn’t hear them. That this someone wanted to reveal—maybe himself—but I couldn’t see him. I was standing in front of a wall I couldn’t pass and started to pity that unknown someone who wanted so much to reach me.

  Suddenly the wall crumbled silently into thousands of colorful fragments, and a huge shadow stood in front of me. The shadow drew the colorful fragments like a magnet, and they began sparkling within it—distant, charming stars! I walked toward them.