Just a Chat

A Ring World story by theidiotmachine

Author's note: this is the conclusion of the 'Earth' series, which started in Flat Earth.

Detective Inspector Alessandra Cheng stepped off the shuttle, the familiar weightlessness dissipating when her boots touched the soil. Here she was, back on the Plate.

The air was as warm as ever, the artificial clouds as fluffy as ever, the birdsong as delicate as ever. She put her sunglasses on, and sipped her coffee. She closed her eyes, and saw the screaming animals as they'd been pulled off the ring station, and she shivered.

Atif was waiting for her in the port, like last time, as nervous as ever. Well, this time, he was right to be nervous: because this time, she was with a squad of armed police, a flight of drones, and President Ebo of Santipurṇa,

She was here because eight murders had been committed, while she'd been guarding the president, on a newly constructed ring station. This was why Ebo's lower legs gleamed of plastic and metal. Why Alessandra woke up every night, terrified, haunted by visions of the ground breaking up around her. Why she had worked late for a month, combing through tax details, money trails, scrapes from websites, social network profiles. Why, even though the coffee that she was holding was expensive, it still sat in her mouth like dirt, because she had drunk so much of the stuff over the last five weeks.

The station's central AI, Janet, had a drone in attendance, too. Janet's drone was a torso, head, and arms, floating on artificial gravity. The drone rendered her face on a screen: this time it was a part from an old Earth abstract painting, one of the modernists. She smiled as Alessandra and Ebo trooped towards her through the palatial port.

It was just as grand as Alessandra remembered it: steel and stone and glass, vast arches, fountains with scented water. This time, however, they weren't meeting in the lounge. Instead, the station's delegation was in the terminal itself, at the security line.

'I count fifteen guns. They're all low power pulse weapons, hidden in recesses. They're designed to take out lightly armoured threats,' Sue said over the comm.

Sue was an AI, currently controlling the dozen drones that accompanied Alessandra. Sue had lived here, on the Plate, before she'd accidentally killed her owner. Owner, because here, machine intelligence rights were non-existent. The Plate had been built as an orbiting residence and playground for the ultra-wealthy, and technically it was a sovereign state, independent of the planetary government of Santipurṇa. As a sovereign state, it was free to define its rights how it saw fit, and they did not extend to machines. So, Sue had been happy to leave after the accident, and was returning as a consultant to the Santipurṇa police force.

'Can you handle them?' Alessandra asked.

'Of course,' Sue replied. 'You deal with the people.'

Because Atif and Janet were not on their own, either: they had a phalanx of armoured guards, all with serious tactical armour, serious guns, and serious expressions.

Atif walked towards them. He couldn't meet Alessandra's eyes for very long.

'Hello, Detective Inspector,' he said. 'Welcome back.'

She felt a twinge of pity for the situation he was in.

'Hello, Atif.'

He gestured at the police, the drones.

'We can't let all those in, I'm afraid.'

Ebo held her hand up.

'Administrator Atif Sanchez, it's lovely to meet you. I'm Safiya Ebo. We don't want to cause a fuss. However, after the events on the ring world, I travel with an entourage. I'm sure you understand. Now, I'm here to speak to Albert Trausch. I was hoping that he'd be willing to meet us. Is he here?'

'He's not, I'm afraid, President Ebo. He's... indisposed.'

Atif was not a good liar. Alessandra wondered what he'd been told. Not much, she imagined.

'Please, Atif, call me Safiya,' Ebo said. 'That's a pity. Well, where shall I wait for him?'

'What...?'

'I don't have any pressing business. We have supplies. We could wait here. Maybe there's a place where we could sit? In the shuttle terminal is fine: we don't have to cross your security line. Otherwise, we can wait in the shuttles.'

'I...'

'You can't wait here,' Janet, the station AI, said through her drone. 'I'm sorry. This isn't a large port. I know what you're doing, and I can't let it happen.'

'And you propose to solve this, by what? Firing on me, the president of Santipurṇa? I am the leader of the nearest sovereign nation. Normally when nations send leaders to each other, they have little canapés and trade talks and red carpets. Literal red carpets.'

There was fire in Ebo's voice now. Alessandra was rather grateful it wasn't pointed at her.

This had always been the plan, though. By now, Janet would have seen that all the supply ships coming from Santipurṇa had been stopped from flying, and that nothing was allowed to leave the Plate. She would also have seen that a series of accounts associated with the Plate were being frozen, using warrants granted from unexplained wealth orders, money laundering investigations, and other organised crime laws. Lastly she would have seen the warship that Santipurṇa had dispatched to the region. The planet did not have a large navy, but the Plate had nothing.

'You're not a company employee. You're a citizen of another state,' continued Ebo. 'And this is how states play. There are no rules about what we can and can't do, especially out here, far away from Earth. So, how exactly are you going to stop me? Now, I know that Trausch is watching this. And if he's not, because he's having a bath or hiding under his bed, you can send it to him. I also know that your other residents are keen not to have a confrontation with us. Many of them have left, haven't they? They're down on the planet, and they are trying to get him to come out. So, let's reset. Hello, I am President Safiya Ebo. I am here to meet with Albert Trausch.'

Janet said nothing for five seconds or so, while Atif twisted his hands.

'He'll meet you,' said Janet. 'He'll be here in an hour. I'll prepare a conference room. In the meantime, Atif and I will work with Detective Inspector Cheng and the head of your security detail to ensure that we can accommodate your safety.'

'Thank you,' Ebo said.

#

This conference room had even more marble, wood, and expensive equipment than the one that Alessandra had been in, last time she'd been here. Everything was faintly pink: rose marble, an off-grey carpet, even the wood seemed to have a reddish tinge.

'Looks like evil Barbie HQ,' Sue said, over their private channel.

They had agreed with Janet to leave most of the police behind: so now, only the six of them filed in. Ebo, Alessandra, a single, unarmed drone controlled by Sue, and three police, all with pulse weapons rather than proper guns with bullets in them.

Alessandra imagined the rest of the police laughing and drinking coffee in the perfect weather in the port, making jokes about how this was the easiest job they'd ever been on, and how they should have brought picnics. Then she remembered the ground tearing apart on the ring station. She sipped her coffee to hide her expression.

Albert Trausch walked in.

It was hard not to lunge at him, grab him by his expensive suit and punch him into the desk, smashing his face onto the expensive wood. So instead, she put her coffee down, and rolled her head.

'It's going to be OK', Sue said.

Alessandra didn't reply, because she couldn't speak without everyone else hearing her. She just nodded slowly.

He sat. He was flanked by other people in suits. Lawyers, presumably, Alessandra thought. Well, that was smart. He'd need them.

She remained silent. She wasn't some rookie cop. She knew the value of silence, of presence. She looked at him, at his legal team. To her left, Ebo was also silent.

She let the silence stretch out for forty seconds, an eternity in such a situation. Trausch fiddled and squirmed. She waited for him to lose his patience. He glared at her, and opened his mouth to speak: as soon as he did, she spoke over him.

'Thank you for coming,' was all she said.

'You have no right to accuse me of terrorism,' he snapped. 'I'm as sorry as anyone else that John is dead.'

She smiled. 'Why would I accuse you of terrorism?' she replied. 'Is that something you wish to talk about?'

One of the lawyers was male. He was shuffling through documents on a tablet. The other was non-b. They raised a finger.

'My name is Mx daSilva. I represent Mr Trausch. I would remind you that this is not a police interrogation. My client will not be slandered through innuendo.'

'You're right. It's not an interrogation. It's just a chat,' Alessandra said. 'Have you had a chance to look at these yet?' She tapped a button on her phone, and sent a bundle of documents over to Trausch and his lawyers. Three little pings sounded across the table.

'We've been tracking the lostworlders,' she continued. 'That's what they call themselves: the ones who blew up the station. They've been around for years, this funny little conspiracy theory group. They're convinced that humanity couldn't have travelled here, that the colony ship Renewal was too primitive for interstellar travel. They think the later colonists, the ones who arrived much more recently, are actors, or something worse. Aliens? I don't know, they're not very consistent. They were so sure that the Alpha Green corp were behind this conspiracy, that they got one of their members on the construction of the ring. They planted explosives, and they went off in the opening ceremony. And here we are.'

'We know all this,' the male lawyer said, without looking up. 'You're wasting our client's time.'

'Ah, you haven't read the documents, then. How does a bunch of people with fringe beliefs get explosives? How do they wire them in?'

'There are explosives on a building site,' the male lawyer said.

'In space? Why would they be there in space? There's nothing to blow up! No, they got them because they were funded. And we spent some time looking at the source of this funding. It's not just donations from members, or t-shirt sales, or adverts on their social media sites. They got some serious cash.'

Did a spark of unease flicker across Trausch's face? Alessandra took a sip of her coffee before going on.

'You run a space construction company. Your main competitors are Alpha Green, the company contracted to build the single biggest construct in the system, ever. They took the opportunity with the ring station, and they ran with it.'

'This is more innuendo,' daSilva said. 'More baseless rumour. Mr Trausch has no interest in physically harming a competitor. That only happens in lurid shows and movies. John Hu was a friend and neighbour and we're all devastated that he's dead.'

Alessandra sent across another document. She ignored the lawyers, and spoke directly to Trausch.

'The thing is, the world is getting pretty crazy, isn't it? There's a lot of disinformation out there. More than we've ever seen. A group of fringe folk who happen to think your main competitor is working for a shadowy cabal, it's almost too good to be true, isn't it? Of course, the lostworlders think that because Alpha Green is the dominant construction company in the system: a company that sophisticated might be capable of hiding some serious secrets. So, we were maybe not so surprised when we traced back some of these lostworlder influencer sponsorships back to a shell company owned by you.'

The male lawyer frowned, and scrolled more, but said nothing. DaSilva was expressionless and silent. Trausch opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

Alessandra nodded. 'No comment, huh? That's fine. This is just a chat. How about this?'

She sent out another file.

'There were a bunch of lostworlder truther crowdfunding drives. It was ostensibly for some kind of conference. It never happened, because it missed its target, every time. But there were some big donations, always at the last minute, always enough to keep it under the target. I think you'll recognise the shell company that donated. Someone at your company was funnelling the lostworlders money. I don't think you wanted to blow anyone up. But you did want to discredit your much larger competitor, because it seemed risk-free and easy.'

'I never authorised this money,' Trausch said. 'This was a rogue employee. I have no interest in such tactics.'

'Well, it would be great to have you cooperate with the investigation, then, wouldn't it? Why are you hiding up here, out of jurisdiction?'

Trausch looked about to answer, but daSilva tapped the table, and he stopped. Look at that, thought Alessandra. These guys were worth the money.

'The bill to classify the lostworlders as a terrorist organisation is going through its final vote in parliament now,' Ebo said, looking up from her phone. 'When it passes, it gives the Detective Inspector here the power to seize funds and records. In ten minutes, we'll leave criminal law and enter terrorism law. Please excuse me; the final vote is being counted. I will be needed to sign the act.'

She stood, and left the room. Alessandra watched Trausch's eyes as they tracked the president. A line of sweat ran down his left temple.

Alessandra pursed her lips. 'We'll catch your rogue employee,' she said. 'When we go through all the company transfers. We'll also catch the person who sold these.'

She sent one final document.

'It was good of you to mention explosives being part of your company's inventory. Mr... I don't think I caught your name...?' She asked the male lawyer, and then faced Traush again. 'Because here's a post in a chat app about a lostworlder buying them from Trausch Construction. Which is odd, because actually, explosives aren't really a part of the building trade. So, that's a surprise, isn't it?'

'What do you want?' asked Trausch. 'What nonsense is this?'

DaSilva was making their sign, holding up a finger, but Trausch ignored them. Bingo, thought Alessandra.

'What, are you stupid?' she asked.

His patience snapping was like a breaking pencil. This had been her plan. No one ever tells the ultrarich, the CEOs of vast companies, that they're wrong. Their egos are allowed to grow unchecked, huge mushrooms in a manicured lawn. Her hope was that he would rise to the goading. She felt a surge of savage pleasure as the man's face reddened.

'You stupid cow,' he snarled. 'You have no jurisdiction or proof. Why are you up here?'

She wanted to punch him in the gut and then the face, slam his head into her knee, feel the cartilage crunch, watch the blood and mucus explode from his nose. In her mind it was fast and savage: he reeled away, collapsed, and she wiped the mess from her leg.

She smiled again, and put down her coffee.

'You're telling me, an agent of the Santipurṇa police, on record, that you have no knowledge of anything that I just sent you?'

'Of course not, you ignorant bitch.'

She allowed herself a twitch of her lips. If he'd been calm, he wouldn't have said anything, she thought. But he's angry because he'd had his dominance challenged, and to him, right now, it's everything.

'Thank you for your help,' she said. 'We'll leave now.' She drained her coffee cup, and set it on the table. She stood and walked to the door. Then, she stopped, and looked back.

'By the way, there was one more thing. It's a video of you meeting the lostworlders who blew up the station. I'm sure it's nothing, because you said, on record, that you didn't know anything. So, when they secretly recorded you, delivering money and a permit to buy explosives, it must have been for something else. I'm sure you were meeting a fringe social media personality for no reason at all.'

She wanted to go on: she had a whole speech prepared, and she'd been looking forward to delivering it. But he screamed at her, some incoherent rage that she couldn't understand, and then stormed out. His lawyers followed him like a comet's tail.

Ah well. We don't always get what we want.

'Remind me never to cross you,' said Sue, in her ear.

She smiled, and headed back to the shuttle, through the marble and opulence.

#

Alessandra was quiet as the shuttle plunged back to the planet. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the ground collapsing around her.

'I got a message from Janet,' said Sue. 'Trausch is going to cooperate. He's going to come down from the Plate. He's still proclaiming his innocence, but he's not hiding away any more. Between us, Janet heavily hinted that the other residents don't want friction between them and us. They all saw us, coming up with guns. It worked.'

Alessandra nodded.

'Good. Can you tell the prosecutor's office, please? It's going to be a long, hard trial, but our work is mostly done now.'

'Do you think he did it?' asked Sue.

'Honestly? No. I don't think he wanted to kill anyone. I think he just stirred a boiling pot, not knowing how hot it was. Or whatever, that metaphor doesn't make much sense.'

Sue paused, and then continued. 'When we were on the Renewal you said something about most humans being great. Do you still think that?'

Alessandra smiled without much humour.

'I think if you don't believe that, there's no hope for us. However, I think that a human who can sell me something very, very alcoholic will be great. Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll take a nap.'

And for the first time in weeks, she slept, safe in the little shuttle as it thundered down to land.