Alone in the Night

Alone in the Night

by

Amanda McCarter

Published by Smashwords

Copyright 2012 Amanda McCarter

Cover image courtesy of Dreamstime.com, copyright Peter Kim

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, except by an authorized retailer or with written permission of the publisher

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Electronic edition, 2012

Alone in the Night

Chapter 1

Another Monday. Security Chief Janet Bryer stared at the ceiling of her quarters. She had already been up an hour. She always had trouble sleeping. Her insomnia was made worse by the vacuum of space. There was just something unsettling about the knowledge that the only thing between you and a very cold death was a few sheets of metal and some air doors.

But it wasn't just that. She hated her job. She had applied for a transfer she didn't know how many times, but each one came back, rejected. They didn't want her back on Earth and they were perfectly happy with the fine job she was doing out on Ganymede Station.

She snorted. Fine job indeed. She rolled off the bed and her feet hit the floor. Another Monday. Great. More paperwork, robberies, petty disputes. Not much went on out here and the locals didn't cooperate much when it did. They didn't like her. She was a lead-foot, Earth born. They didn't trust Earth-borns out here, thought it was Earth's government spying on them or some such nonsense.

She shook her head and hit the shower. It technically wasn't even a shower. Just a mist of nanoscopic scrubbers. Water was too precious to waste on cleaning the body. Something else she hated about living in space. What she wouldn't give for a hot shower or a downpour of rain. She felt like she hadn't been properly clean for years. It was the first thing on her list of things to do when she got back to Earth. If she ever got back to Earth.

She dragged a comb through her long, sandy brown hair, threw on her uniform and stepped outside of her quarters. She overcompensated and nearly ran into the bulkhead. She cursed at herself and hoped no one saw. There was something else. The gravity was never right, too light. She did her best to keep it close to Earth normal as she could, which drove the techs crazy, but she definitely wasn't going to get any sleep if she felt like she would float off at any minute.

She straightened, adjusted her tunic and headed to work. Several people passed her in the hall, giving cheery good mornings. She sneered inwardly at the concept. There was no night or day in space so what difference did it make? Still, she kept the fake smile plastered to her face and the others did the same. It would be a week before she could put in another request for transfer so she had best just grin and bare it.

Now she just wanted to get to her office without any interference. She needed to get to the transport tube, down two levels, and she would be safe. She could do the weekend paperwork in peace and quiet.

Chief Bryer, a shrill voice said.

Janet froze on the spot and turned. She knew the voice instantly. Yes Mrs. Heavner?

Mrs. Pauline Heavner was one of the more affluent citizens aboard Ganymede Station. Her family owned several shipping companies and they were one of the station benefactors. As a rule, Janet had to be extra nice to her.

I will have you know, said Mrs. Heavner, those hooligan boys were all over my corridor Saturday night. They kept me up until one am and scared poor Tibbles to death. I want you to do something Chief Bryer. I want it done before this next weekend.

They're minors Mrs. Heavner, she said. I can speak to their parents again, enforce the idea of a curfew, but that's all I can do. Aside from disturbing the peace, they're not really breaking any laws and one of my officers would have to catch them in the act. Or you can call us when it happens.

I won't sit through the bumbling of those idiots again, said Mrs. Heavner. I want you to handle this Chief Bryer. If you have to wait outside my hallway this Saturday night, the so be it.

Janet gritted her teeth and choked back a smart retort. She had no intention of working this weekend and Mrs. Heavner's quarters were in one of the lower gravity levels. She did it for her health, apparently, but the old hag didn't look very healthy to her and she doubted the woman ever did look very healthy.

I'll speak to their parents again, she said. See if we can't come to some sort of arrangement?

You do that, said Mrs. Heavner. If I hear them again, I will not be held responsible for what happens.

Mrs. Heavner, she said, please let us handle this. I really don't want to have to arrest such a fine, upstanding citizen such as yourself.

It's self defense, said Mrs. Heavner.

On what grounds? Janet asked, but she already knew the answer.

On the grounds that I need a good night's rest for my health, said Mrs. Heavner. I will file a complaint with the station commander if this continues.

You have my word that I will give this my fullest attention, Mrs. Heavner, said Janet.

See that you do, said Heavner. I didn't get to where I am today by putting up with thuggish behavior or resting on my laurels. Things like this boost character.

Of course, said Janet, spreading her fake plastic smile further. To herself she thought, no, you got to where you are by being the biggest penny pincher in the solar system. The fact that the old lady had actually spent money on her quarters here surprised her. Though she supposed Heavner got a rather sizable discount considering their monetary support of the station. Her family practically paid Janet's salary.

Which meant she would probably be working this Saturday. She sighed. If Heavner complained to Station Commander Shelding, Shelding would come to her and Janet would never hear the end of it. And it would be another strike against her for reassignment.

She made it to the transport tube and ducked inside before anyone else found her. She clung to the back of the tube as if she needed it to stay on the ground. This was not turning out to be a good Monday.

The lift dropped down and she could feel her shoulders relax with the increased gravity. She always had the feeling she was falling on the upper levels. Nothing felt or weighed right.

The doors opened and she escaped again. She always felt like she was escaping from something. The low gravity, Mrs. Heavner, a crummy job, on and on. At least the other officers in security sort of liked her. They knew she wanted out, but they also sympathized with her. Her record wasn't the best.

Mornin' Chief, said Detective Joseph Lindstrom as she came in. You just talked to that Heavner woman, didn't you?

How can you tell? she said.

You've got that little crease in your forehead you always get when you've had to talk to someone who annoys you, said Lindstrom.

Nah, said his partner, Detective Craig Burns, she was just talking to your mother.

Shut up Burns, said Lindstrom and threw a wad of paper at him. Burns let out a barking laugh.

Don't let that bitch get you, Chief, said Burns. She's just bitter and angry.

Yes, said Janet, but if I ignore her, she turns it to Shelding, then we all catch ten kinds of hell for it.

She's got a point, said Lindstrom. Much as I hate to say it, I'd rather deal with Heavner than Shelding.

I'd rather have a root canal to be honest, said Burns. At least then, I get something for the pain.

Lindstrom and Burns chuckled and Janet had to smile. At least those two knuckleheads liked her well enough. They had a decent sized department. There were over fifty thousand occupants on Ganymede station so they needed a good number of cops. Granted, things never got too crazy, but they had a quota.

It was the most boring job Janet ever had. Sometimes, though she knew better, she wished for a murder, a major theft, something. Most of what they got were noise complaints and petty larsony. Quota or no, if they didn't start pulling in some cash, HQ was going to have to start cutting numbers and she had a feeling she would be the first to go. No reassignment, no retirement, just unemployment.

Anything from the weekend? she asked.

Lindstrom thumped a stack on his desk. Just the usual. Noise complaints, some chuckle-head on the upper levels pulled an airlock valve, oh, and a missing cat.

She rolled her eyes. Exciting.

Well this one's interesting, said Burns, thumbing through a report. Malrooney, up on the vendor level reports that someone stole his log book.

His log book? she said. What would anyone want with that?

Burns shrugged and gave her a wry look. God only knows. Damn fool probably lost it, again.

She sighed. Probably, but I don't wanna hear about it if it's really missing. Send Joyer or Evans. I don't wanna mess with Malrooney today.

I'm sure Joyer and Evans don't either, but they're closest, said Burns. He leaned forward and pressed his comm unit. Joyer answered.

Officer Joyer, what's up Ops?

Malrooney's reported a theft, said Burns. Go check it out will ya?

Seriously? said Joyer. Whatever it is, he probably just misplaced it.

Janet smirked. Same old, same old.

All the same, said Burns, chief says check it out. You know what Shelding will do.

Joyer sighed. On my way. I swear, if he left it under his mattress or something stupid....

The comm cut out and Janet shook her head. She almost felt sorry for the guy. Malrooney was a nice enough man. He just suffered from early onset dementia. Not bad, but he had his moments. Like the day he put his keys in the recycler or the day he attacked a group of kids with a broom because he thought they were a pack of dogs trying to maul him. Other than that, he was harmless.

The crazy old man's log book was probably in his freezer or under the nightstand. Janet didn't want to know. I'll be in my office if anyone needs me.

Burns and Lindstrom nodded and went back to their work. Janet shook her head again and went to her office. She expected about a dozen or so messages and probably an equal amount of e-mails on her computer. Each one was probably about as useless and pointless as the next.

She palmed the lock to her office, dreading the paperwork. Her eyes grazed across the desk and she stopped. A pair of black shoes hovered inches above the wood. The shoes were connected to a pair of feet. They dangled loosely in a familiar pair of uniform pants.

Janet looked up and gasped. Officer Evans hung from a length of rope tied to the ceiling. His eyes were open and glazed. His face was bloated. He had been there for a while. A cardboard placard was hung around his neck. It read, Feuer Frei.

Chapter 2

Lindstrom and Burns stared at the body over Janet's desk, eyes wide. He was just a kid, said Burns.

How the hell did that happen? said Lindstrom.

I don't know, said Janet. Get forensics in here. Don't touch anything. I want to know how he got in here, how long he's been there and I want the bastard who did this.

The two detectives stared for a moment longer. Lindstrom turned and shook his head. Burns scratched at the nape of his neck with a sort of helpless look on his face. Just a kid, he said again.

I know, said Janet. Anger burned through her. Burns turned to leave and she grabbed him by the arm. Let's keep this from Captain Shelding as long as possible, okay?

Burns frowned and nodded. I'll do what I can. The rest of the team should be coming in within the next hour. What do you want us to tell them?

Janet chewed her lip. They were cops and security officers. They spent their lives noticing what other people didn't notice. Though this group had it easy, they'd eventually see that something was out of place. She glanced at Evans' desk. She sighed and hung her head.

Tell them the truth, she said. They all knew Evans and I don't want to lie to them. I'd like to tell them all together, if possible. Call in as many of the foot patrols and zero G monitors you can. Tell them to meet here at 0800 and I'll give them the news. In the mean time, I want every inch of my office covered. I want to know how he got in there and how come none of the weekend staff saw anything.

Burns nodded. Aye, Chief. I'm on it. He jogged after his partner and put a hand on Lindstrom's hand. The two spoke for a few minutes, glanced sideways at Janet and nodded to each other. They patted each other on the shoulder and went back to their desks to start making calls.

Janet looked back at her office. She crossed her arms over her chest and took in the image. Her desk was undisturbed. A small stack of papers sat at the corner. Her console was untouched. There was still a fine layer of dust over the top and screen that she had been meaning to clean, but never got around to. Her file cabinet, chair, and various other decorations and meaningless knickknacks hadn't been moved either. Looking at the scene, she felt all of it was meaningless

Burns was right, Officer Evans was just a kid. Even underneath all the bloated, pasty skin, she could see his youthful exuberance. He liked his job and got along with most of his colleagues. She had heard at one point he had a girlfriend. Janet wondered if he still had that same girlfriend. Did she suspect something was wrong? How long had he been missing?

She looked at the level of decomposition. He hadn't been dead too long, maybe twenty-four to forty-eight hours. A missing person could only be reported after forty-eight hours, a stupid hold over in the law books from the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. On a space station, that was dangerous. If someone went missing, you checked the airlocks. Or, in this case, the security chief's office. This was gonna be bad.

Lindstrom knocked on the outside bulkhead of her office. Chief, forensics is here.

She frowned. Let them in. The sooner we get this started, the sooner we can go back to noise complaints and forgetful shop keeps. A thought occurred to her. Tell Officer Joyer to come in. She can pick up with Malrooney later and call a counselor. She and Evans were close, right?

Lindstrom paled and nodded. They were partners for two years.

So they've been together longer than I've been here, right?

Yeah, he said. Don't feel guilty. Whoever did this is seriously messed up.

Yeah, sure, she said. She watched the forensics techs as they came into her office. They stopped and glanced up at the body. The lead tech exchanged looks with her and gave her a sad smile.

One hell of a way to start a Monday, isn't it Chief? she said. We'll find something in there and you can nail the sucker to the wall.

She just smiled at the tech and the tech smiled back. The others weren't a huge fan of Janet, but there was nothing like a dead cop to bring a team together. She just would have preferred to make peace with them by other means, not that she planned on being around for very long. Of course, her plans hadn't gone anywhere near the way she wanted. At this point, Janet was just glad they were on her side and didn't think it was her fault. It was only a matter of time though.

Tired of looking at the scene, Chief Bryer went back to security ops. Officers were filtering in from the rest of the station. They spoke jovially or walked in with confused looks. Janet didn't call too many team meetings. She preferred to let people do their own thing and speak to them individually. There was no need to ruin everybody else's day unless absolutely necessary. Days like today.

A few were groggy eyed and grumpy. Lindstrom and Burns must have roused them from their sleep. Might as well, she would have to question them sooner or later. It was better if they weren't on top of their game. She normally didn't mind interrogations, but she really hated it when it was her own people.

She palmed the controls to her office and let the door slide shut. Lindstrom caught her eye and signaled to her. This was all of them, good. Or at least as many as they could get on short notice. The rest would have to get the news second or third hand. Rumors would crop up, the accusations would start. There was no avoiding it.

She sighed and stepped to the center of the room. Most of them were still talking. A few were falling asleep. She knew what it was like to be called into work in the middle of a good night's or sometimes day's rest. She cleared her throat.

If I can have everyone's attention, she said. I'm sorry to call all of you in on such short notice, but I'm afraid I have a rather somber announcement to make. Corporal Derrick Evans was found dead this morning, in my office. No point in hiding it. A murmur broke out. She raised her hand and it fell just as quickly as it had risen.

I don't have any answers yet, she said. "From all signs, it was a deliberate attack against the security force on board this station. I know some of you were close to Corporal Evans. We'll need your insights more than ever. This attack strikes close to all of our hearts and it pains me to think one of us or someone close to us could be responsible.

I will give you the facts. Evans was not murdered here and there was no sign of forced entry to my office. I will submit myself to questioning as to my whereabouts just as I would expect everyone else. I want to know who saw him last, where he spent his weekends, who he spent them with, did he have any enemies. I want to know what he had for dinner Friday night and what time. I don't like murder and I especially don't like it on my turf.

I know this isn't something we're used to or even capable of handling. Violent crimes don't happen here, not like this. We're going to have to put in extra hours, lose some sleep, but by God, we are not going to let this bastard get away. Do I make myself clear?"

Yes ma'am, they all said in unison. Some not as loudly or enthusiastically as the others, but it was enough. She had their attention. She wasn't going to make any friends with the schedule she was about to put them through, but she wasn't here for friends. Never had been. Maybe some God on high would show her mercy and would get her the hell off this station. Somehow, she doubted it.

The Ops doors hissed open and Chief Bryer's worst nightmare stormed through. Half the security team jumped to their feet, the other half stumbled, too shocked or too tired to make it look good.

There's a murder on my station, said Commander Shelding, and I'm the last one to know about it. Does someone want to give me a good explanation?

Chief Bryer snapped her feet together and stood at attention. I wanted to wait until we had more facts, sir.

Shelding crossed the distance to her and stopped just inches away. She could feel his breath on her face. It smelled like rancid milk and garlic. She forced herself not to wrinkle her nose.

I think you're hiding something, he said.

With all due respect, sir, she said, your personal opinions of myself, my team, and my work not withstanding, if you take a look at the scene, I think you'll see things differently.

Where is the body? he said.

My office, she said. I believe you know the way.

He glared at her and pushed past her to her office. She let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding. She would pay for her smart mouth later. Janet didn't care. Shelding's implication wasn't just rude, it was infuriating. She valued each and everyone of her officers, even if she didn't always take the time to get to know them personally. She never thought she could afford to, not after what happened on the Lunar colony.

She shut down that memory quickly. There was no need to relive that tragedy. Lunar colony was the reason she was stuck out on this miserable hunk of metal. Despite her best efforts, something from her years on the Moon surfaced.

The front page of a newspaper filled her thoughts, particularly a picture and a headline. Her police profile picture took up half the page with a description underneath, in German. Beside it, on the right hand side of the page, read the words Feuer Frei! and the article beneath it.

Detective Lindstrom, Detective Burns, Shelding said, his voice stern and angry, put Chief Bryer under arrest. I want her in an interrogation room in fifteen minutes.

Janet's heart sank. She knew this was the way it would go, but couldn't figure out why until now. She let her shoulders sag and shook her head. She held her hands out in front of her as Lindstrom cuffed her hands together and took her badge and sidearm.

Sorry, boss, he said. Orders is orders. For what it's worth, I know he's wrong.

She gave him a small smile. From somewhere behind her, she heard sobbing. They must have told Joyer. Was she his girlfriend? Or were they just that close. Why did no one report him missing?

That's enough, Detective Lindstrom, said Shelding. I won't have you comforting a suspect. Put her interrogation five. I'll be there when I get this mess cleared up.

She snorted. Let him try. The other officers just stared as Lindstrom lead her down to interrogation. Some of them probably believed Shelding that she killed Evans. Never mind the fact she had no motive, she had an alibi and she hadn't touched her office door since Friday. As much as she hoped the logs would show something along those lines, she doubted it. She really hated Mondays.

~~~~~

Chief Bryer drummed her fingers on the cold metal table. The chair she sat in was equally cold. She had been in there for at least half an hour and her butt was still frozen. And it was starting to go numb. She could stand, but she didn't want to give Shelding the satisfaction of thinking he had made her nervous or impatient. She stretched and yawned, flexing her glutes to shift into a more comfortable position. With a little bit more feeling in her hindquarters, she began drumming again.

Finally, the door swung open. Shelding stood there, his face in what she was beginning to regard as a permanent frown. She should have stood, but considering the circumstances, she chose not to. There was a paper curled in his left hand. Janet didn't have to be psychic to figure out what it was.

He crossed the room in two long strides and slapped the paper on the table. The page was wrinkled and a little sweaty, but she could see the image and the words as clear as day. There was her police profile picture and the familiar German head line and article.

I've seen it, she said. She folded her hands together and lifted her eyes to his.

I have the translation here, he said. Six innocent civilians were killed when Bethesda City Police Chief Janet Bryer opened fire on a group of black market traders. Without any concern for the residents or bystanders, Bryer fired wildly, piercing the pressure dome, killing civilians and traders alike.

I've seen it, she said again, and I read it, about a thousand times. Believe me sir, I've replayed it just as many times in my head, trying to figure out what went wrong. I'm not a bad shot. There was no way my shot would have gone that far off the mark.

And you were also distressed, said Shelding. His face softened slightly for a moment. She almost thought she had imagined it. But that doesn't excuse your behavior. And the fiasco afterwards would set anyone off.

With all due respect, sir, she said, you've never liked me. And I know you didn't want me here. Could it be your just looking for an excuse to kick me out? I wouldn't mind really as long as I could go back to Earth.

There is an officer dead, said Shelding, almost shouting. I don't think I care for your trivialization of the events.

Janet gritted her teeth. "And I don't care