Read Online The Genius Asylum: Sic Transit Terra Book 1 by Arlene F. Marks - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Arlene F. Marks
Tags: Humor, thriller, Mystery, E-Book, Literature, cyberpunk, book, Aliens, books, reading, alien technology, Space Station, Amazon Kindle, genes, science fiction mystery, contact, sic transit terra, future policing, sociological sf, sf spy story, human-alien relationships
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proceed into Earth space. And outbound vessels had to be checked for stowaways, now that the plague had hit their sector. Glancing around, Drew counted eight archways — wishful thinking for a hub this small and isolated, he realized, but perfect for a remote EIS base.
“There’s a full set of auxiliary controls concealed under this floor plating,” Ruby continued, “in case we have to evacuate the lower decks. We can even separate the Hub into three sections in an emergency. But you probably know that already.”
He nodded. On purely technical matters his briefcase had briefed him quite thoroughly.
“All right, then,” she sighed. “B Deck is Lucas Soaring Hawk’s workshop. You met him when we first arrived — the fellow with the long hair and sweatband who was barking orders at the techs in the short-hopper landing bay? Hawk is our resident propulsion systems genius, so Jason put him in charge of maintaining and repairing the short-hoppers and Personal Life Support suits as well. Half of the suits are stored on B Deck, the other half are kept on L Deck. That way, exterior maintenance crews can exit the Hub near either end, using the airlocks.”
Airlocks. Drew visualized the station plans. There were six airlocks altogether, three on Deck B, three on Deck L. He couldn’t help wondering in which one Karim Khaloub’s body had been found. There had been mention in the preliminary incident report of pajamas, but not of any Personal Life Support suit. Drew made a mental note to question Lucas Soaring Hawk about that.
“The short-hopper landing bay you’ve already seen. So, our next stop will be C Deck,” Ruby declared, nudging him back into the tube car. “That’s the Admin and Communications center, AdComm for short. Lydia Garfield’s in charge of data management, InfoComm maintenance, and SPA programming. She’s been looking forward to meeting you.”
“SPA?”
“Shared Programmable Activities — it’s a virtual reality playroom, on Deck D. Fools us into thinking we’re in the mountains, or strolling through a forest, or quarterbacking a football game. Great for mental health. Not bad for physical health, either. And it can be customized. Lydia has imprinted personal SPA wafers for everyone on the Hub. Just tell her what you used to do for fun — or what you’d like to do for fun — and she’ll set you up, no questions asked.”
That one he couldn’t ignore. “It sounds as if she’s received some unusual requests.”
“Unusual back on Earth, maybe. Not here.”
“What if one went beyond unusual, to immoral, or even frightening, like wanting to play at being Jack the Ripper? Would questions be asked then? Would a report be filed?”
An ominous silence suddenly blanketed the tube car. “That sounds like a Ranger talking,” Ruby said quietly. The door slid open at that moment, but she made no move to step onto the deck.
Strangely, he felt powerless to step past her. Which part of what he’d said was she reacting to? Had a Ranger already asked her the same question? Or did someone on Daisy Hub fantasize about being a serial killer?
“I’m not a Ranger, Ruby,” he told her at last. “I’m just the dead man’s replacement. If Khaloub was a target, I may be one too. So I’d really like to know what happened to him.”
She thought for a moment, then slowly nodded. “And you probably don’t like living in guest quarters, either. I guess that’s fair. But there’s something you need to understand, Mr. Townsend. The Rangers are not well liked on Daisy Hub. We try as much as possible to give them no reason to come here. Lydia even went so far as to design and install a SPA for them over on the Zoo, so they couldn’t use ours as an excuse.
“Still, Bonelli insists on sending his new arrivals over here for ‘orientation’. They strut around and play ‘bad cop’ for half a day. Then Fritz Jensen, our head chef, serves them two-day-old macaroni for lunch, to discourage them
“There’s a full set of auxiliary controls concealed under this floor plating,” Ruby continued, “in case we have to evacuate the lower decks. We can even separate the Hub into three sections in an emergency. But you probably know that already.”
He nodded. On purely technical matters his briefcase had briefed him quite thoroughly.
“All right, then,” she sighed. “B Deck is Lucas Soaring Hawk’s workshop. You met him when we first arrived — the fellow with the long hair and sweatband who was barking orders at the techs in the short-hopper landing bay? Hawk is our resident propulsion systems genius, so Jason put him in charge of maintaining and repairing the short-hoppers and Personal Life Support suits as well. Half of the suits are stored on B Deck, the other half are kept on L Deck. That way, exterior maintenance crews can exit the Hub near either end, using the airlocks.”
Airlocks. Drew visualized the station plans. There were six airlocks altogether, three on Deck B, three on Deck L. He couldn’t help wondering in which one Karim Khaloub’s body had been found. There had been mention in the preliminary incident report of pajamas, but not of any Personal Life Support suit. Drew made a mental note to question Lucas Soaring Hawk about that.
“The short-hopper landing bay you’ve already seen. So, our next stop will be C Deck,” Ruby declared, nudging him back into the tube car. “That’s the Admin and Communications center, AdComm for short. Lydia Garfield’s in charge of data management, InfoComm maintenance, and SPA programming. She’s been looking forward to meeting you.”
“SPA?”
“Shared Programmable Activities — it’s a virtual reality playroom, on Deck D. Fools us into thinking we’re in the mountains, or strolling through a forest, or quarterbacking a football game. Great for mental health. Not bad for physical health, either. And it can be customized. Lydia has imprinted personal SPA wafers for everyone on the Hub. Just tell her what you used to do for fun — or what you’d like to do for fun — and she’ll set you up, no questions asked.”
That one he couldn’t ignore. “It sounds as if she’s received some unusual requests.”
“Unusual back on Earth, maybe. Not here.”
“What if one went beyond unusual, to immoral, or even frightening, like wanting to play at being Jack the Ripper? Would questions be asked then? Would a report be filed?”
An ominous silence suddenly blanketed the tube car. “That sounds like a Ranger talking,” Ruby said quietly. The door slid open at that moment, but she made no move to step onto the deck.
Strangely, he felt powerless to step past her. Which part of what he’d said was she reacting to? Had a Ranger already asked her the same question? Or did someone on Daisy Hub fantasize about being a serial killer?
“I’m not a Ranger, Ruby,” he told her at last. “I’m just the dead man’s replacement. If Khaloub was a target, I may be one too. So I’d really like to know what happened to him.”
She thought for a moment, then slowly nodded. “And you probably don’t like living in guest quarters, either. I guess that’s fair. But there’s something you need to understand, Mr. Townsend. The Rangers are not well liked on Daisy Hub. We try as much as possible to give them no reason to come here. Lydia even went so far as to design and install a SPA for them over on the Zoo, so they couldn’t use ours as an excuse.
“Still, Bonelli insists on sending his new arrivals over here for ‘orientation’. They strut around and play ‘bad cop’ for half a day. Then Fritz Jensen, our head chef, serves them two-day-old macaroni for lunch, to discourage them
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