Fugitive Telemetry (The Murderbot Diaries #6)(20)

I had feed messages; one from Ratthi asking if everything was okay and had I caught the murderer yet, one from Gurathin which was the same except he didn’t ask if I was okay, and one from Pin-Lee saying she wanted me to contact her now, no she meant right now, it was important.

I had followed the others into the main office space on level two, which had a large holo map of the whole station in the center, with a running status display on all station locks, air walls, and other safety systems, plus a scroll of data on cargo regulation checks throughout the port. It was surrounded by work areas and floating display surfaces. Also way too many containers with food residue, ugh. Several humans were sitting around working in their feeds and none of them looked up when I came in.

I found an unoccupied corner to stand in and sent acknowledgments/reply-laters to Ratthi and Gurathin, and tapped Pin-Lee’s feed.

The first thing she sent was I saw the update Indah sent to Mensah about an incident in the cargo dock. Is it GrayCris?

I told her, I don’t know. I just didn’t have enough data yet for my percentages to be meaningful as anything other than theoretical shit-talking, even with the info Aylen had given me. I added, It might be.

Her feed voice sounded weary. Are we ever going to be at a point where we can forget about those assholes?

I didn’t want to just say “eventually” so I told her, I can’t give you a timeline. But GrayCris can’t get the currency to buy the company off, and even if they could, it’s too late for that. GrayCris had ordered a security firm to attack a company gunship, and worse, almost succeeded. There was no going back from that, at least as far as the company was concerned.

Farid came into the room, spotted me, and came over to say, “Uh, we’re making tea. Do you—”

I paused my feed and told him, “I don’t eat.”

“Oh, right.” He wandered off.

Pin-Lee sent, There’s been a Station Security request for documents from the General Counsel’s office relating to cargo brokering between the Corporation Rim and outsystem polities and trading concerns. It sounds like they’re looking at a possible fraud or smuggling investigation to go along with the murder. Do you want a copy of the report when we send it?

Yes. Farid was back, this time waving at me to follow him. I have to go.

Find out what the hell is going on, Pin-Lee sent back, and cut the connection.

I followed Farid out of the work space and around into a conference room. Indah and Tural were seated at a table facing a large floating display. It was divided into three separate sections, each showing a different much smaller conference room. In each room was a response team officer, sitting across from a Target. Aylen was in the room with Target Five (yeah, I had picked Target Five as the one who probably knew the most about whatever it was they were doing) and the other two officers were with Targets Two and Four. One and Three were probably still in Medical.

I pulled the individual feeds so I could put them into separate inputs, in case I wanted to review them later. Right now Aylen and the other officers were explaining to their individual Targets what rights they had as detainees in Preservation Alliance territory. (It was a lot of rights. I was pretty sure it was more rights than a human who hadn’t been detained by Station Security had in the Corporation Rim.)

Chairs were scattered around and Indah waved me toward one, so I sat down. Again, it was a little, more than a little, weird. I was in a Station Security office, sitting down. (Non-rogue SecUnits aren’t allowed to sit down on duty, or off duty, if there’s any chance of being caught.)

Farid, Tifany, and three other officers stood back in the doorway to watch. (I will never figure out how humans decide who gets to sit where and do what, it’s never the same.) (There were more cups and small plates with food residue on the table. They’re always eating.)

On the three feeds, Aylen and the other two officers started the initial questions, basically “who are you,” “why are you here on Preservation Station,” and “what the hell were you thinking?”

The Targets’ stories were fairly consistent: they were traders originating in what they called an indie station designated WayBrogatan (a quick search on the Preservation public library feed confirmed its existence) and they shipped small cargos on a regular route that never, ever, at any point intersected the Corporation Rim. And they never took on passengers, no, no way no how, never! WayBrogatan had special regulations and they weren’t licensed for it. (That was Target Five’s earnest contribution.)

Tural muttered, “Because crews who take station staff hostage are going to be sticklers for licensing regulations.”

Indah agreed. “Whatever they’re afraid of, it’s about passengers and cargo.” She tapped the investigators’ private feed, which I had not been given access to and did not hack, because apparently I get to sit in a chair but not participate.

The other two officers, Soire with Target Two and Matif with Target Four, started in with questions about the ship’s cargo definitely-not-passenger route, making the Targets go over what the ship had been carrying and what it had dropped off and picked up in exhaustive detail.

Aylen worked on that with Target Five, then smiled, not in a friendly way, and said, “Now. Care to explain why you tried to abduct a Station Security officer and the Port Authority supervisor?”

“Too soon?” Farid asked Indah.