Logbook entry

Linton Chronicles - a new case

29 Mar 2018Andrew Linton
"Veetchspice is ze final frontier avaiting our explorations. Every day vee use veetchspice to make ze hyperspice jumps but never viz a sorough understandink of ze physics."

The crowdfunding holovid is playing on the table in a secluded booth in Heat Sink, my favourite place to chill in Obsidian Orbital. The man making an impassioned plea for development money is twenty centimetres tall. He looks to be in his mid-forties, his thick, jet-black mop of unkempt hair supports a pair of magnifying eyeglasses. Even on the scale of the holographic projection I can see the enthusiasm in his face and hear it in his voice. He stands behind a workbench on which rest a number of exotic items, none of which I recognise.

I have a pretty good ear for accents and this one isn't as heavy as some I've heard. I easily slip into a real-time translation of what he's saying.

"I believe that there is at least one further dimension of space beyond witchspace. Our normal space co-ordinates we call z, y, and x. We know witchspace as w-space, and I call this new dimension hyperwitchspace, or more simply v-space. I think the Thargoids know how to manipulate v-space and use it in their hyperdiction technology."

The man rests his hand lovingly on a small black box. "Using this device I have already detected ripples in the fabric of witchspace which I believe are caused by events occurring in v-space. To make the next generation of this machine more sensitive, allowing me to explore in more detail the nature of v-space, I need money."

His arm sweeps across the contents of the bench. "With your support, and using these retrieved Thargoid components, I hope to understand how hyperdiction is achieved. With that knowledge we might develop effective countermeasures. Also, we might be able to build a device to explore more fully the possibilities of v-space travel. Imagine, if you will, visiting the Large Magellanic Cloud or the Andromeda Galaxy, or flying to Beagle Point in the twinkle of an eye."

The video fades and I look across the table at the person who brought it to me. Eva Wegener is in her late thirties and the similarities to her brother are strong; she has the same black hair, though hers is long with masses of curls – far too much to fit inside a Remlok helmet, from which I deduce that's she's not much of a space traveller. She has the same animated way of talking and her face is alive as emotions flit across it. The anxiety she feels is clearly expressed in her large hazel eyes which have cried readily during our conversation.

"You say your brother and his family have disappeared. How long ago was that?"

The woman pauses and dabs her nose with a handkerchief, reluctant, I expect, to reveal the normally private side of her sibling relationship.

"I can't say exactly. You see we weren't that close and not in regular contact, only birthdays and anniversaries, that kind of thing. It's three months since we spoke."

My first thought is that a trail that's three months cold will be difficult to follow. I don't know, yet, where to start. I need to know more before I decide whether I even want to take the case. Who am I kidding? I haven't had a job in months and the maintenance bills on my ship are building up.

I'm sitting with my back to the wall, facing out into the room. It's an old habit and one that's served me well in the past. I notice a man across the room who seems to be watching us. Even seated he looks athletic; broad chest, powerful arms, straight back – I'm guessing ex-military. The federal navy crewcut confirms it, at least in my assessment.

He's doing a fairly good job of staring into his drink but I can see he keeps stealing glances at us. I don't say anything to Eva Wegener; she has enough on her mind.

"How do you know he hasn't just gone on an expedition or even a holiday – taken the kids on a galactic tour maybe?"

"It's unlike him to do that without telling me. Like I said, we weren't close but he'd let me know something like that. Anyway, his work is his life; he doesn't do holidays and he'd just made this appeal for research money."

"And how was that going?"

"He was very excited about the response. He told me he already had several wealthy private investors and one or two big organisations interested in his ideas."

I'm becoming intrigued and I can feel the desire growing in me to know the truth about the disappearance of Dieter Wegener. I guess that's why I became a private investigator. It certainly wasn't for the untold wealth and job security.

"Did he name any of his investors?"

Eva searches her memory.

"It was the last time we spoke. He mentioned Agneta Elonsdottir; she was interested because her father was killed in a Thargoid attack."

Everybody knew the story of how the biowaste trillionaire Elon Rask had died defending his privately owned megaship which happened to be in Pleiades Sector OI-T c3-7 when the Thargoids attacked in February, 3304. Agneta was his only surviving relative and had inherited one of the largest fortunes in the galaxy. I doubt that a grubby gumshoe like me would be granted an interview with her, however much she wants revenge on the Thargoids.

"Which organisations were interested? Did he say?"

"There was Aegis and Canonn, they were the main ones, oh, and Wreaken."

"Wreaken – the mining company?"

"Their defence force, I think Dieter said."

"Makes sense, I suppose. They have a lot to protect, and I guess the Thargoids are already affecting their interests."

I have a few contacts in both Aegis and Canonn Research, so I can see a few possible leads. I have enough information to start the job, I'm interested, and I'm broke. The mental decision tree guides me to one conclusion.

"Okay, I'll take the case. My rates are two million credits per day plus expenses, and that's with the first day paid in advance."

"That's not a problem, I'll transfer the money to your account; I just want to know where he is and that he's safe."

I see tears welling again and think it's time to finish off here and start work.

"A couple of questions, then. I'd like to keep the vid if that's okay; can you let me have images of Dieter's wife and kids? Finally, where was the family home?"

"Keep the video; it's still online anyway. I'll send you the images of Lena, Klaus, and Elke; they lived at the Lodestar Laboratory in Merope."

Eva leaves the bar. The man knocks back his drink and follows her out. My guess is he's new to the job, fresh out of training. His reaction to Eva's departure is too blatant; he moves five seconds too soon, and even looks up at her as she walks past him.

I order a drink on my brand new expense account and wonder why my new client is being tailed and by whom.


*

Later, I sit in the cockpit of my beat-up old Asp Explorer – there are still one or two flakes of paint on the hull, but what she lacks in integrity she makes up for in character. I swirl the last of my Fujin Tea around in a Hutton Mug – a failing attempt to ease an Indi Bourbon hangover.

I play the video a few times, hoping to see something I've missed. There's nothing in the background to tell me where it was recorded; then, on the third viewing I see it. I pause and zoom in and there, on the side of the bench, is one of those labels that facilities managers love to attach to anything that might need painting, servicing, or moving. The label clearly identifies the bench as: SG/2/85/04.

I start searching for where that might be; it's not that hard; there are comprehensive databases online with details of every known starport and planetary base. I look for station names beginning with 'S' and find a few hundred places that are Gateways. This would match the 'SG' designation in the label, but they are all fairly close to the Sol-centric bubble and although I can't rule out that Wegener moved there from Merope I'm hoping there's somewhere closer to the Pleiades.

I switch to a wildcard search and sort the results by decreasing distance from Sol. It's easy to rule out Colonia and its surroundings and I scan down the list to the group of stations at the same range from Sol as Obsidian Orbital. The one that leaps out at me is Stargazer, an independent asteroid base a thousand light-seconds from Pleione. The star is only one jump away from Maia. Last time I was there, it was to collect meta-alloys from 11 a. On a hunch, I decide to check it out.

First, though, I lavish some advanced maintenance on my Asp, and give her a new paint job. Launching into the docking bay, I see that the repair work to the station still has a way to go after the Thargoid attack a while back. All around there is scaffolding and arc welding and notices about systems offline and restricted access. But we'll get our station back I don't doubt.

Once outside the no-fire zone – and I'm thinking it's a pity nobody told Mr T about that – I line up for the veetchspice jump to Pleione.
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