Chapter 2

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Alexander Singh glided down the corridor silently. It was very early morning and some people were starting to exit their cabins and making their way to the Central Plaza for breakfast. No one paid much attention to him as he was dressed conservatively, had his dark hair smoothed down and his black eyes were narrowly focused ahead.

This didn't mean he was not completely aware of everything around him; far from it. He noted a ship steward bustling past him to assist a gentleman who seemed lost a few steps from his cabin. A turn down another corridor revealed a young lady exiting a cabin still in her cocktail dress. She entered the cabin next to hers and crept inside as if not to disturb someone inside.

Aside from what Singh saw, he was using all his other senses as well. He listened to conversations far off down the corridor; he could smell the scent of cologne and which cabin it was coming from and he could feel the vibrations of footfalls as they approached or as they moved off. Mostly importantly though he was able to sense surface emotions in almost any sentient being.

A security guard approached and the emotions were very much on the surface with her. In short order Singh sensed anxiety, shock and worry. And so it was with one or two other ship personnel and security people that passed by in the last few moments. Same range of emotions and more.

Singh didn't know what the ship crew was thinking. His extra sense didn't tell him that but his ability to infiltrate ship computer systems and not leave a trace told him what he needed to know. And what he saw, he didn't like.

One more turn and he was at the correct cabin door. He didn't even have to press the bell or knock. The door slid with a swoosh to one side. He stepped inside. The room was a middle range cabin compared to some of the luxury suites. It was well appointed without drawing unnecessary notice. This suited its inhabitant just fine.

Singh walked into the main room via the corridor and found himself in the presence of Simon Roth Gaulle. The old man was pouring an orange juice from a chilled container. Dressed in a ship dressing gown, he very much looked like the distinguished gentleman: Tall, white, a touch of gray on otherwise black hair and composed. Under the surface though, Singh could sense the annoyance.

"It was agreed no direct contact," said Gaulle in clipped English despite the French name. Singh was never sure of the man's background save for it was European.

"The situation warranted it," Singh replied. "Too much information to be conveyed through our traditional methods."

"I agree," Gaulle stated. He looked Singh up and down and raised an eyebrow. "You've shaved, cut your hair and removed your turban."

"Yes," replied Singh. "Out here on the frontier dark skin is common enough but people remember Sikh attire if no one else is wearing it."

"I see," replied Gaulle. "You do look quite different."

Singh nodded. In fact, he looked like an unremarkable civil servant or businessman.

Gaulle motioned Singh to take a seat. The cabin had a multi-purpose TransForm space that could be an office desk, two sofas and a coffee table or any number of configurations as needed. In this case, the room was set up as two club chairs turned toward each other.

Singh took a seat and Gaulle sat opposite placing his glass of orange juice on a side table.

"It would appear things are a lot worse than we first thought," Singh said grim faced. He took out a data drive and placed it in the port on the table. It lit up a high definition screen on the wall nearby. The image showed security cam footage of ship crew and security outside a cabin. "This is realtime footage outside Ms. Aubrey Chase Chen's room. I believe they will be cutting into her room shortly."

"When is the last time you heard from her?"

"As you know, I check in with everyone at noon and midnight ship time," replied Singh. "I don't know location or anything of that sort but I receive a general all is well reply. I received one at midnight from Ms. Chen that all was well."

"Where did you suspect something was not well?"

"In the middle of the night, I received the beginnings of a message," Singh replied.

"The beginnings of one?" questioned Gaulle.

"Yes," Singh answered. "A channel was open but no message was sent and just as suddenly, it was closed."

"I presume you tried to contact after?"

"Repeatedly. But to no avail. It was then that I tapped into the ship's communications and found the alert centering on Ms. Chen's cabin."

Gaulle took a moment to think. He scratched his chin and looked at video on the wall which showed ship crew cutting into a cabin door. "They think she is dead?"

"They know she's dead. They sent in an orb and scanned the room"

"Do we know anything more than that?" Gaulle asked.  His face was increasingly strained.

"It would appear whatever happened was violent. This much I saw on the video imagery."

"How?"

"I don't know," Singh said flatly.

Gaulle stood up and pointed to the video screen. "Show me what they saw when they sent the probe in."

Singh queued up the footage from the orb entering Chen's cabin.

Gaulle watched with incredulity on his face. The blood splatter on the walls and massive damage within the room all led up to the bed where Ms. Chen's broken body lay. He sat down after seeing her.

"So it is true," Gaulle said finally. "She's dead."

"Yes."

"Contact every one of our people on the ship," ordered Gaulle. "Let them know what happened."

"What will we do? asked Singh.

"Find out who killed Aubrey Chase Chen."

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