As always, Inspector Entoryua Rei of the Luna Vega City Police Department was in a foul mood.
“Just three hotels left for us to investigate. Why do I get the feeling we’re not going to find the suspects in any of them?”
“So, what’s the next step?” asked Kite, a captain in the occupation’s Military Police.
Exasperated, Entoryua shrugged. “Search every house, I guess.”
From his tone, Entoryua made it perfectly clear he was not fond of the idea. In fact, he felt he shouldn’t even be involved with this investigation. Luna Vega City already had almost every member of its criminal investigations department on this case — a measly automobile theft.
True, stealing a floating car (Uusia) was a felony. But that hardly warranted such a rigorous search.
Entoryua divided his men into fifteen teams. Four kept an eye on the airport, two rested, and the remaining nine conducted searches of every room in every hotel in the city of Guzornyu. They didn’t wait for any warrants — the occupation army took care of it. (No matter how many times Kite suggested it was a “liberation army/’ Entoryua couldn’t bring himself to think of it that way).
Reviewing a list of lodgings in the area, Entoryua skimmed over a list of names of guests who lacked proper identification. There were about twenty people on this list.
Most citizens of Clasbul carried wallets at all times, which they also used as their identifications. Most of the time, fake names in a hotel register were no big deal, usually just a cover for celebrities trying to stay off the radar or people having extramarital affairs. In most cases, Entoryua’s men let the impostors go.
They took one petty crook into custody, but his crimes (pickpocketings) were completely unrelated to those of the Abh car thieves. So far, that single misdemeanor arrest was the only fruit of this massive labor.
“Inspector, this is the Condorin squad,” crackled a voice into the communication device stuck in Entoryua’s ear. “We’ve finished our search and await your instructions.” The inspector weighed the options. “Just take a break for a minute,” Entoryua decided. “Hang out with the reserves and stand by until further notice.”
“Roger.”
“Isn’t there some way to narrow the search? Can we create a profile for the kind of person who would harbor an Abh?” Kite inquired impatiently.
“We already know exactly what kind of person would help the Abh, but it won’t do us any good, because they’re all rotting in your ‘democracy schools’ “
“Don’t start that again,” pleaded Kite forlornly. “Just remember, we’re doing our best.” “Inspector,” Police Chief Ramashdi interrupted through Entoryua’s communications device, “we’ve got some more men stuck at one of the occupation army’s inspections.”
“Tell me you’re kidding,” grumbled Entoryua.
Impeding the investigation on numerous occasions, the occupation army could not seem to get it through their heads why so many of Luna Vega City’s police were traveling into Guzornyu City.
Entoryua nudged Kite. “I think this is your department, Captain.”
Nodding, Kite said, “Have him put my army’s commander on the phone.”
As the language of the foreign, incomprehensible conversation wafted through Entoryua’s ears, his mind drifted to more important matters, such as how nice it would be to take a nap.
“Done.”
“What?” asked Entoryua, returning to reality.
“Police Chief Ramashdi is cleared.”
“At least until the next time.”
Kite shrugged disapprovingly.
“There’s got to be some way to make this simpler. The right hand ought to know what the left hand is doing!” griped Entoryua.
Kite shrank a little. “Yes, we could stand to be more organized.”
Wow, marveled Entoryua, although he seems like a real firecracker, he can be pretty meek sometimes.
Kite’s mobile terminal alerted him to an incoming message.
He stole a peek at the display terminal on his hip. After running his eyes over the screen, Kite paled and his whole body sagged.
“The rest of the Military Police just moved out — they’re going to arrest the Abh.”
“Does that mean we’re off the hook?” Entoryua asked like a puppy catching its first whiff of a treat.
“Not so fast. The Military Police are still counting on our investigation — they just want to make the actual arrest. So, when we discover where the Abh’s hiding, we’re to report to HQ, and they’ll move in to make the collar.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. The Army’s Military Police will make the arrest.”
“We’re not six-year-olds playing cops and robbers here!” raged Entoryua. “Can’t you say something to your superior officer?”
“I wish it were that simple,” Kite explained. “Initially, headquarters thought the Abh girl was someone who escaped from the orbital mansion, so they weren’t too concerned with her. But now, they think there’s a high probability she came from a small ship that crash-landed here.”
“I don’t see why that matters,” declared Entoryua bluntly.
“It means there’s a chance that this girl was a crew member aboard an enemy vessel that our army battled in Plane Space. And if so, there’s a good chance she might have vital intelligence.”
“What kind of vital intelligence?”
Kite searched for the answer. “No idea. But even if I did know, I wouldn’t be allowed to tell you.”
“Probably.” He didn’t mind too much. If it wasn’t a military secret, it probably had to do with the interstellar nations’ governments and didn’t really concern him.
“But you see why,” Kite said, “the Abh girl is so important to us.”
“Maybe you guys just don’t like the idea of a local police force getting all the credit.” Though it was not a new phenomenon for Entoryua to do all the work and receive none of the accolades, it still irked him to no end.
“It’s not you,” Kite blurted. “They don’t want me to succeed.”
“What? But you’re their main man! I mean, you’re so young and already a captain!”
A smile formed on Kite’s handsome face. “How old do you think I am, Inspector?”
“Um …” Entoryua eyeballed Kite for minute. “Maybe twenty-seven, twenty-eight. Standard years.”
The smile grew. “In standard years, I’ll be forty-nine in six weeks.”
“No way! That’s older than me! But you look… oh! Genetic modification?”
Kite nodded. “The Abh don’t have a patent on the technology you know.”
“But, I thought your propaganda broadcasts said genetic modification was the devil’s work.”
“Yes. The United Mankind considers human genetic modification is a serious crime.” Kite sighed. “That’s the simple version, at least.”
“What’s the long version?”
“Have you heard of a nation called the Silesia Republic?”
“No, sorry.”
Crossing his arms, Kite gazed out the window.
He stared off into space until Entoryua couldn’t take it anymore. “Tell me about the Silesia Republic already!”
“Oh, right. The Silesia Republic.” Kite spoke haltingly. “It’s the broken nation that caused the Battle of Silesia about a hundred and twenty years ago. That’s when it became a part of the United Mankind. Prior to that, it was a military dictatorship with a thousand families running the whole show. Those families genetically modified their children — not as significantly as the Abh, who change hair color and add that freakish extra organ. We just got the anti-aging DNA.”
“But you’re too young to be one of the children,” pointed out the Inspector.
“Right. My grandparents received the altered genes and passed it on from there.”
“How could the United Mankind hold that against you? It was three generations ago!”
“The passage of time doesn’t change anything; my census form clearly classifies me as Silesian longevity race.”
“Harsh.”
“Tell me about it! I can’t even get married, because a man with the longevity gene and a woman without invariably have children with congenital cancer.”
“Couldn’t you genetically adjust the children?”
“It’s not allowed — not even in the case of gene abnormalities. In fact, genetic inspection at the fertilized egg state is illegal.”
“Wow.” Entoryua couldn’t believe it.
“Thus,” groused Kite, “I am still a bachelor, and probably will be forever. The gene will most likely die out with my generation.”
“Whoa.” Entoryua found it all rather disturbing. “But that still doesn’t explain why you can’t advance in your career.”
“Just forget it. It’s none of your business.”
“It is my business, if you guys are going to rule this planet!”
“We’re not here to rule you. We’re building a citizens’ society with you. We’re friends now.”
“Friends,” Entoryua pushed, “don’t keep secrets.” “Touche.” Kite sighed, exasperated. “It is widely believed that the Silesian longevity race cannot understand the true nature of democracy. I suppose they just don’t trust me.”