Mars Rising (Domeworld Saga Book 1) Read online

  They walked back to the supply window and handed their suits back to young Burt Cooper since Twig was somewhere in the warehouse. He turned the epad around for them to fingerprint. As they walked back toward the main gates, Olga kept looking at Scarlett like she wanted to say something.

  Scarlett tried to ignore the sideways glances, but gave in to curiosity. "What is it, Marshal?"

  "Twig said the micro-breather was missing from the toughsuit Max took."

  "Interesting," Scarlett said. "I didn't check to see if all the pieces were in the bag."

  "The only way he made it as far as he did was because he had air." Olga stopped at the front gate. "What I want to know is why you gave it to him."

  "I didn't give him anything," Scarlett said. "But if I did, maybe I figured watching the puppet constable die while Alderman and his cronies sweated would be good entertainment."

  The other woman's fists tightened. "There's something dark inside you, Deputy. Your sense of self-righteousness is too bitter to be anything but personal."

  "I reckon it is," Scarlett said. "Maybe a lot more people should've taken it personally when Max let their loved ones die. I think you're all crazy for not seeing it clearly."

  "Take a look in the mirror and tell me who's crazy," Olga replied calmly. "Good day, Deputy."

  Scarlett bottled up a retort. Didn't seem like these people would listen to reason, so why bother? She had it right and that was the end of it. It didn't take her long to march back to Central. She saw the bladewheel parked outside the saloon and huffed angrily. Peeking inside, she saw Dominic toss down a shot of swill.

  "This shit's awful," he blared. "I get the good stuff over at the science campus whenever I want."

  Scarlett had a mind to go in there and tell the new constable just what she thought of him getting drunk before it was even lunchtime. Instead, she took the bladewheel and headed toward Aaron's domicile on the north side of Central. His unit looked just like everyone else's in this part of town. White lettering on the concrete street outside said Block 10. Similar lettering on the building gave its number. She wondered if looking down on the city would be just like seeing a map with all the streets, blocks, and buildings neatly numbered.

  She banged on the door, waited a few seconds, banged some more. Chips of presswood fell on the ground. Scarlett nearly bent down to scoop them up for recycling, but recoiled when she realized what she was doing. I'm not a trained rat. When Aaron didn't answer after about five minutes, she decided to adopt a different approach.

  "Aaron Vale," she shouted, "this is Deputy Flynn. You open this door right now or I'll break it in." She didn't see how anyone could sleep through all the racket she'd made and wondered if something had happened to the man.

  The door jerked open and a red-faced man with mussed hair stepped outside. "Why in the hell did you wake me up?" Aaron looked about twenty—too young to have developed the bad skin of long-time steamworks people.

  "May I come inside?" Scarlett asked.

  He blew out a breath and walked back inside. "Fine."

  Scarlett closed the door behind her. "I'm investigating the murder of a man in the steamworks."

  Aaron sat on a wobbly presswood chair in the studio apartment. His bed was folded against the wall. "What does that have to do with me?"

  "You were just leaving shift when it happened in the area you were working."

  "I didn't see anything," he said. "I came home straight from work and went to bed."

  Scarlett noted how quickly he answered, and he hadn't even seemed surprised when she told him about the murder. Most people would have looked surprised and asked who was killed. "If you were in bed, why is it folded against the wall?"

  "Because I don't want people coming in and seeing a messy bed," he replied.

  "Let me take a look at your bed."

  Aaron's forehead pinched. "What for?"

  "I don't have to give a reason." She pointed to the bed. "Pull it down, now."

  He moved the chair and pulled down the bed. The sheets were rumpled and messy and the stench of body odor wafted out. Either he'd just gotten out of bed like he said, or he never straightened the sheets. Aaron glared at her. "Satisfied?"

  "Not entirely, Mr. Vale." She stepped closer. "I want to know why you're not telling me what you really saw."

  "I didn't see squat."

  "You did." Scarlett narrowed her eyes. "I can hear it in your voice and see it in your face plain as day. If you don't want trouble, I suggest you tell me."

  He stuck out his chin. "Ain't nothing to tell."

  Scarlett held his gaze a moment longer, watching the uncertainty trying to hide behind his defiant eyes. "Well, maybe Investigator Simmons will get the truth out of you."

  Aaron's face blanched. "I told you I didn't see anything!" This time, desperation cracked his voice.

  Scarlett turned and walked toward the door. "The minute I step outside, you've lost your chance to tell me." She looked back at him. "You tell me, and Simmons never gets your name."

  When he still didn't say anything she wanted to hear, Scarlett shook her head and took a step outside.

  "Wait!" Aaron ran over and pulled her back inside. He shut the door and leaned heavily against it. "You can't tell anyone anything I say."

  "Depends," Scarlett said. "I might need your testimony to save a life."

  "If anyone thinks I ratted out someone else, it'll be my life needs saving."

  Scarlett judged the fear in his eyes to be quite real. She nodded. "No promises, but I won't release your name unless absolutely necessary."

  He blew out a long breath. "I was working on a leaky pipe and completely surrounded by steam. I thought I saw something when the steam cleared for a second, so I stepped out from the pipes."

  Scarlett nodded. "Go on."

  "I saw Daryl Smith, my shift replacement, talking with a guy in a blue toughsuit." He shook his head. "Ain't no mistaking a lab coat and their blue toughsuits." Vale shook his head slowly. "Daryl looked upset."

  A lab coat in the steamworks? It didn't make sense unless the man in the blue toughsuit was the victim. "Was Daryl early to his shift?"

  Aaron nodded. "By about an hour. I was originally scheduled to work the pipes leading to the farms, but the foreman asked me to take care of the leaks on the pipes coming from Science."

  "In other words, no one was supposed to be in your area today."

  "Right." Aaron wiped sweat from his forehead. "I backed up into the steam real quick so they didn't see me, because lab coats don't ever come into steamworks unless something major happens, like a power or water outage."

  "Did you see them again?"

  He shook his head. "When I got brave enough to peek out a few minutes later, they were both gone."

  "Did you see the face of the man in the blue toughsuit?" Scarlett asked.

  He closed his eyes as if imagining it. "No, just his profile."

  "Damn it." Scarlett bit her lip and then thought of something else. "What color was his hair?"

  "Umm, I think he was bald." He furrowed his brow and closed his eyes. "Wait, actually I think he did have hair."

  "Which is it, Vale? Bald or not?"

  "He had black hair," the man said, eyes still closed. "Maybe he just looked bald on top from the bubble helmet."

  "Straight or curly?"

  Aaron squinted and took a moment to answer. "So hard to remember. Straight, I think."

  If it was straight, that meant it wasn't the same man as the victim. "What about his size? Taller or shorter than Daryl?"

  "He was shorter and smaller."

  The mystery man didn't fit the description of Garth or his beefy friend, so it had to be someone else. Without a solid description of the hair or face, she couldn't say if it was the victim or not. That left little for her to do but pay Daryl a visit and he was all the way over in the steamworks. "Did the lab coat have an electric cart with him?"

  "Oh, yeah, I saw it parked up the walkway from them." Once again
he squeezed his eyes shut, but shook his head slowly a moment later. "I can't think of anything else, Deputy."

  "You've been helpful," Scarlett said. She gripped the doorknob. "I'll keep your testimony secret if I can, okay?"

  He nodded. "Please. I don't want to end up feeding."

  "I'll do what I can to keep you safe." Her words sounded hollow to her own ears. What could the lowly deputy do to stop Simmons if he wanted to execute someone? Scarlett stepped outside and shut the door behind her. She really didn't want to go back to the steamworks, but it seemed she had little choice.

  Chapter 13

  Scarlett hopped on the bladewheel and turned it toward mechworks. If the lab coat Daryl had argued with was the victim, then what happened to the cart and the blue toughsuit? She imagined Daryl punching the man and tearing off the bubble helmet, then hitting him over the head. That might have given him time to pull off the man's toughsuit and position him in front of the steam pipe.

  Even if Daryl was the murderer, did he stash the cart and suit nearby, or somehow drive it back through the thick steel door guarding the science campus? There were simply too many questions. After more thought, she decided the first thing she needed to do was search the steamworks for an electric cart.

  Olga grimaced when she saw Scarlett wheeling up to the security booth. "Back again so soon?"

  "I need to question Daryl Smith, but first I want to search the underground for an electric cart." Scarlett picked up the bladewheel. "You got any ideas where someone might hide something that big?"

  The marshal frowned. "Depends on how long they want it hidden."

  "I'm guessing they want it hidden long enough to figure out how to destroy it for good."

  Olga shook her head. "I can tell you right now there isn't a place to dump an entire cart. You'd have to strip it down to parts and get it into recycling. I suppose a person could smuggle the small parts a little at a time, but the carbon fiber casing, the wheels, and battery would be difficult to get into recycling without raising questions."

  "In that case, the cart is probably somewhere they can safely dismantle it." Scarlett hated to ask, but she needed Olga. "I'd like you to help me."

  "I'd like a steak dinner too, but that isn't happening." Olga opened the gates. "Maybe someone in the steamworks can help you."

  "Marshal Birch, I'm formally requesting your assistance." Scarlett tried to keep the pleading tremble from her voice. "I have a valuable lead that may help me track down the real killer."

  Olga crossed her arms and gave her a deadpan look. "Tell me a little more and maybe I'll help you."

  It didn't seem Scarlett could keep Aaron's information from the marshal, especially since she was the one who gave Scarlett the address, so she went ahead and told Olga about Daryl, the lab coat, and the cart.

  "Looks like a civvie is gonna die for this after all," Olga said as she stepped out of the security office and closed the door.

  "We still don't know all the facts." Scarlett carried the heavy bladewheel with her in case she decided to ride it underground. "I need to see if the cart is still down there or not. For all we know, Daryl was talking to someone other than the victim."

  "Maybe." Olga didn't sound the least bit convinced. They went back to the supply window and Twig returned the same suits they'd worn earlier as evidenced by the sour odor emanating from them.

  "We were just about to send 'em to laundry," Twig said. "I'd give you fresh suits, but we're already running low on laundry rations this month."

  Scarlett glanced at the calendar on the wall behind him. "We're not even halfway through Quintas."

  He nodded grimly. "The odd part is, I can't figure out why. I haven't been handing out any more toughsuits or work coveralls than normal." Twig flicked on the epad and showed them a list of names. "All the regulars check out their toughsuits or coveralls for a week at a time."

  Scarlett imagined the filth accumulating over several days and grimaced. "Did you make sure you're logging all the returns properly?"

  Twig snorted. "I log everything. I ain't feeding because of some paperwork error."

  "How large is your laundry ration, and how much have you used?" Olga asked.

  Twig looked at the epad. "I got a two-thousand-gallon water ration, a gallon of detergent, and two-hundred fifty units of electricity. So far, I'm at eighty percent usage this month."

  It hardly sounded like enough of a ration to wash all the work clothes that came through this place. "You ever have this problem before?" Scarlett asked.

  He nodded. "Once about two years ago, and another time about seven years ago."

  Scarlett blinked. "That's it in all these years?"

  "I've been running this place for decades, Deputy." Twig flicked off the epad. "The population never changes, the work never changes, and the dirt never changes. It ain't that hard keeping things steady."

  Young Burt Cooper entered the supply office behind Twig with two micro-breathers in his hand. "Here you go, Twig."

  Twig whistled. "You actually found something on your own, boy." He chuckled and handed them to Scarlett and Olga. "Hold onto the suits if you think you'll be going back down again this week. It'll save me on the laundry rations."

  Scarlett wrinkled her nose at the odor coming from the outfit, but nodded. Once again, she and Olga suited up and descended into the brassworks. Olga took out a magpad and drew a big circle with four spokes going north, south, east, and west. "This circle is central steamworks, and these are the tunnels going to the walls."

  "Is it possible to get the cart down to a lower level?" Scarlett asked.

  Olga drew a square and then pointed to her left. "Over that way is an industrial lift, but you can't use it without a code from the security boys over at Science."

  Scarlett nearly blurted something about how ridiculous that was, but held it in and nodded. "If it's in the brassworks, odds are it's still on this level."

  "Unless it's already been torn apart," Olga reminded her. She put an X along the circle in between the spokes. "All the main tunnels going out to the wall branch off into smaller grids to supply the farms, so there aren't any tunnels going northeast, southeast, and so forth."

  "You think those marks are good spots to check?"

  Olga nodded. "I'd recommend we split up. You take the west and I'll take the east side."

  Scarlett looked uneasily toward the thrumming generators about fifty yards away. "What if I get lost?"

  "The place looks confusing, but it's a grid." Olga pointed to a faded red arrow on the walkway. "All the red arrows point toward the center stairwell. If you get lost, just follow them, okay?"

  It seemed easy enough. "What's the best way to reach the places you marked?"

  Olga aimed an arm due west. "Head straight down this walkway until you see the tunnel to Science Division. From there you can go north or south in a straight line to the marked locations." She circled one of the marks. "There isn't much in the way of pipes or machinery over there. That's why the workers use them to stash extra materials they don't want to return to supply so it doesn't affect their rations."

  "In other words, a perfect place to hide a cart," Scarlett said. "Daryl could have disassembled it there and simply moved the parts around to the other supply dumps."

  "If Daryl had anything to do with it," Olga said. "I suggest you keep his name out of this until you find proof of guilt, Deputy."

  "I'll keep that in mind, Marshal." Scarlett got on the bladewheel and enjoyed the jealous look from Olga who'd be walking for a couple of miles.

  The going was much easier though she had to watch for low hanging pipes and ride slow through clouds of steam. She caught a few curious glances as she passed workers. During her earlier walk through here, she didn't remember seeing so many people along the main walkway.

  Then again, it was nearly lunchtime, so many were probably heading somewhere to eat. Scarlett came into view of the science tunnel and took the last walkway to the right. The pipes, steam, and noise
faded considerably the further toward the northwest she went, though there was no shortage of electrical wiring or plumbing. Most of it went directly into the concrete ceiling overhead and probably into the communes above.

  The walkway went behind a wall and into an empty space. Piles of various materials sat in neat rows along one side, while larger items leaned against the wall. It was a fortune in supplies, but Scarlett didn't fault the workers for fighting the irrational system. She steered the bladewheel through the rows looking for any parts of an electric cart.

  What would stand out? A bit of wire or metal frame would fit in perfectly with the rest of these items. She discovered a tray of large modular batteries that matched what carts used, but they could have been from another vehicle. In the end, she found no smoking blaster, no signs of a disassembled cart, like a seat or anything with Science Division markings on it. After a thorough search, she wheeled back out of the alcove and headed south.

  About halfway back to the main east-west walkway, something big and red swung out from behind a generator and caught Scarlett in the stomach. The wind exploded from her lungs. The bladewheel wobbled and skidded along the floor while her back slammed against unyielding concrete.

  Three figures in orange toughsuits, dark welding masks hiding their faces, emerged from behind the generator. Scarlett gasped for breath and tried to back away on her elbows. She bumped into something and looked up into another welding mask. Scarlett might have screamed, but she wasn't that kind of person. Besides, she didn't reckon anyone could hear her except these folks.

  Two figures bent over and hooked their arms under hers, lifting her easily from the floor while the other two walked behind.

  "Let me go!" Scarlett kicked and wriggled, but her bearers were too strong.

  One of them picked up the bladewheel and they headed southwest, dragging Scarlett along without a word. Patch tape covered the rears of their bubble helmets so she couldn't see the backs of their heads for any clue as to who they were.

  They stopped near the southwest corner area Scarlett had intended to search, and the pair dragging her pinned her against the wall. One of the other two moved close enough to press the welding mask against Scarlett's helmet.