《Revolutions》Chapter Thirteen
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“What do you mean a bunch of aliens are sick?” Calls at five in the morning from Inspector Hayden took a moment to process.
“The medics are with the Tristorians now, but it looks like they ate something disagreeable at the banquet last night.”
“Unfortunate, since last evening seemed to have gone so well,” I said, recalling the lack of conflict between or amongst the races. In fact, a mood of anticipation had infused Revolutions. Everyone had looked forward to the second half of Round One this morning.
“I need to go to the hospital and question the Tristorians. Which one are they in?” My mind started to defuzz.
“No hospital. They refused to go. The medical staff is administering to the Tristorians in their rooms.”
A local Burnaby luxury hotel housed everyone except the Itlans, so I knew where to find them. “Okay, Thomas, I’ll get over there and see what I can find out.”
I sighed and got myself ready for the day. A little more stress couldn’t hurt one, could it?
Arriving at the hotel I spotted my friend, Raj Inder. “What are you doing here? Did someone die?”
“No, not at all. Some of the Tristorian medical staff happened to be on a tour of the morgue early this morning. So when the call came in, I followed along. The Tristorians have all the symptoms of food poisoning, so it should pass fairly quickly—although, one of the Tristorians seems more seriously ill than the others.”
“Are the Tristorians up for questioning?” I needed to find out some details…and quickly, like which particular food they had all eaten, who had prepared and given it to them?
“No, not right now; perhaps later today. They’re recovering nicely, though,” said Raj.
“Keep me updated. I’d better talk to the bowling officials. This may affect today’s round.” This bowling competition had more fits and starts than I would have imagined.
“Go to the restaurant. Everyone’s gathered there.”
The hotel restaurant certainly contained a potpourri of life. Although most of the tables contained only one race, I found all bowling officials gathered together at one large table to address the current situation.
Carl Hender, one of the Intergalactic Bowling Congress officials from Earth, jumped up when he noticed my approach.
Before I had a chance to speak, he barked, “What are you doing here? No one’s been murdered.”
I didn’t need Carl telling me what to do. “No one new has been murdered, you should say. We still have one ongoing murder investigation. Carl, I’m here because I need to know what’s planned about today’s round. And I need to interview the Tristorians as soon as possible. The food poisoning could be connected to the unsolved murder. I need to understand what happened.”
“Sorry, sorry.” He did look truly sorry and anxious. “I do understand being in charge of the investigations would require you to know the details.” He wiped his forehead. “The current feeling is that the round will begin in a few hours. Only the Tristorians have been affected by the food poisoning, and they’re already starting to feel better. Since this round is all about determining which team will represent their own world, the Tristorians are all in the same boat.”
Actually the Itlans were, but I didn’t have the guts to utter my joke out loud.
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“We, along with the higher officials, should announce a decision shortly.” He preened.
“That should keep the competition mostly on schedule, I would think. Let me…” I went silent as I noticed Raj storming across the room toward us.
“We’ve had a development,” he said quickly after he’d arrived. “All of the Tristorians are well recovered, except one. Reene Tane has died. We believe he had a severe sensitivity to a particular type of food. His respiratory system completely shut down, and there was nothing the Tristorian doctors could do about it. We’ll be doing an autopsy shortly.”
After a short silence, the officials turned back to their table and a hubbub ensued. Raj and I walked a few steps away. “The problems are escalating. How are you going to handle them?” he asked.
Annoyed by the question, I crossed my arms. “I’m not sure what you want me to do about food poisoning. Personally sample everyone’s food?” I heaved a contrite sigh. Snapping at Raj wouldn’t solve anything. “Sorry. My day started badly, and who knows where it’s going to go from here. Now it looks like more security will be needed, like in the kitchens. Give me a call after you finish your autopsy.”
Raj nodded and joined the other medical staff waiting for him.
In a few moments, after the talking at the officials’ table died down, I waved at Carl. He stood and joined me. “What’s been decided? ”I need information.
“The second half of Round One will continue this afternoon and evening—so there’ll only be a few hours delay. Reene Tane’s team will activate their spare. The tournament should proceed normally.”
My vocabulary of late did not include normal. “Okay. If anything changes, let me know. And, Carl, I need your help. Can you keep your ears and eyes open, and let me know if you hear or see anything unusual? Anything, even some gossip, could help me in my investigations. As of now, I have another death on my plate, and I need to determine if it’s another murder.”
Carl nodded but said nothing, although he appeared receptive to my request. After Carl joined his fellow officials, I commed Inspector Hayden. After updating him, I went back to the office to do some research and wait for toxicology results from Raj.
Once I updated the squad on the morning’s activities, Dino seemed visibly upset. “You know, ma’am, your world is not getting a very good reputation. There is much unrest amongst the diplomatic community. I do not want to say it, but there have been conversations about rescinding the BRITE agreement. Your race is looking primitive, and not worthy of inclusion in the Alliance.”
I dampened my angry urge to remind him it wasn’t a human who’d committed the first murder. “What do you think?” I asked him instead, hoping he wouldn’t join the apparent crowd forming to put a noose around my neck.
“I think you are being unfairly judged. No evidence so far points to human perpetrators in these crimes, but that fact does not seem to be important to the naysayers. You might want to slow down the number of incidents.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” Lots of impractical advice flowed my way today.
The ambassador had no response.
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“Okay, let the diplomatic community know I expect them to keep their people under control. And if anyone wants to commit a crime, to let me know first.”
“Ma’am, I…”
I interrupted. “Never mind, Dino; I was just blowing off steam.” The expression on Dino’s face made me recognize the universal translator’s difficulties. “Dino, blowing off steam means I was uttering nonsense to make myself destress.”
“I understand.” His hands became still.
I’m not sure he really did, but we needed to move on. I took a deep breath. “So, since we don’t have any test results that tell us anything significant, we need to change our plan of attack. We’re now going to be concentrating on relation- ships. We need to study who talks to whom, and why. Now this is not going to be easy because we need to go back to before the first murder.”
“Good luck with that!” Harrison quipped, making the squad room explode with laughter.
“Okay, perhaps my suggestion is a trifle, just a trifle, unwieldy mind you. Talk to the staff at Revolutions and Starlight—the kitchens, front desks, and maintenance. I know everyone has been curious about the aliens, so I’m sure my suggested participants have watched them closely. Think of it as gossip—everyone loves gossip. You guys are good; bring me something. I anticipate a convoluted relationship diagram. And Brian, add kitchens to your list of places that need added security.”
I paused to gather my final thoughts. “It’s close to time for the second half of Round One to start, and today the competition is at Starlight. I’ll see you there shortly.”
Dino remained with me, as usual. “I need to talk to Smith at Revolutions. Can you find your own way to Starlight?” I asked him. “Or do you want a ride?”
“The ambassador can ride with me if he wants,” Harrison offered, and ever the diplomat, Dino agreed with his suggestion.
“Okay, I’ll meet you guys there a little later.”
I packed up and stopped at Revolutions. “So, poisoning our alien bowlers are you?” I said to Smith.
He glowered. “I had nothing to do with the alien cuisine. The kitchen swarmed with chefs from all races. My staff only touched the human menu.”
“Relax. I was only teasing. Did you notice anything unusual yesterday?” I didn’t think this was an especially profound question, considering our lives at the moment.
“Not really. Everything seemed as crazy as always. I didn’t have time to check out the bowling even. Running Revolutions kept me too busy.”
“So you saw no one that shouldn’t have been in the kitchen?”
“I can’t tell you anything about that since I didn’t vet the chefs. The bowling officials were the ones who allowed access to the kitchen. Are you thinking this wasn’t a fluke—wasn’t just some bad food?”
“One of the Tristorian bowlers died, so I’m open to possibilities. If you think of anything, let me know. I’ll talk to you later; I’m off to Starlight now for the rest of Round One.”
“It looks like we won’t be able to have our dinner until the competition is over.”
“You’re probably right.”
I really wondered about his request. We hadn’t been together for some time, so why was he anxious for a social meeting? It was something I’d have to figure out at a later date.
* * * *
Starlight hummed. The teams concentrated on their warm-up sessions, and the officials set up their computers to sync with the alley’s bowling software. Extra police security swarmed the area.
I caught up with my partner and Dino and sent Brian off to check out the kitchen and front desk. Dino and I settled down to survey the players.
“Dino, while we watch the bowling, would you mind telling me something about the politics of the BRITE Alliance?”
“Exactly what do you want to know?” I swore Dino tried not to smile.
“I guess we should start with a history of how the races found each other, and when I understand that, we can continue with how the races work together, and why humans were invited to join.”
Dino managed to make me understand a small amount about two races before the round ended. He initially discussed Tristor.
“Tristorians happily inhabited their world until a Bremen exploratory craft entered their space. They had not yet travelled outside their solar system and were, in fact, incapable of doing so. Because the Tristorians were mostly non- confrontational, they welcomed the Bremen into their lives. They were quite put out when the Bremen wouldn’t provide them with the answers to extra-system spaceflight. As a result, the Tristorians made it clear the Bremen were no longer welcome.
“See you around,” said the Tristorians, and the Bremen left in a huff while trying to find one of their clans to blame.
“When the Tristorians in a very short time, galactically speaking, generated extra-system capability and visited the Bremen, the Bremen invited them to form an alliance. At that point they admitted another race existed, the Rheinon. The BRT Alliance started amidst a sea of awkwardness.”
The end of the first half of today’s bowling gave the bowlers a short rest and snack. Today had started late be- cause of the food poisoning. During the last three games, Dino and I discussed the Rheinon.
“The Bremen were initially reluctant to mention the Rheinon to the Tristorians,” he said. “They were concerned the Tristorians might think they were aggressive. With much loss of life, the Bremen and Rheinon fought over a rogue planet for years. Eventually, an uneasy peace developed and they agreed to share the mineral wealth.”
I suspected Dino’s version of Rheinon history lacked Bremen perspective. My notes would be forwarded to Jack and the rest.
Shortly we had the competition results. One team, from each race, had been picked to advance. The Australians would represent Earth.
Tomorrow, the bowlers would have a day of rest. However, I wouldn’t take any days off until all my problems were solved.
In the meantime, I needed to get out of here. I stopped at my desk to pick up some files to study this evening and then drove over to pick up Mom and Maori at the vet clinic.
Maori was coming home!
My heart sank, however, when my red-eyed mother and a solemn veterinarian greeted me at the clinic.
“Oh, Tari,” Mom said, rushing into my arms. “Maori’s dead.”
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