“I don’t know. I’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise.” He knew next to nothing about the colonists rescued from Verde Omega. Bio scans had checked for communicable contaminants, but nobody had vetted the survivors’ histories. Why would they? Their goal had been solely to administer humanitarian aid. But, just because the New Utopians followed principles of pacifism didn’t mean their group didn’t harbor a few sociopaths. Maybe some of them had betrayed their fellow settlers and had abetted the Tyranians.
Dante hugged Miranda and then released her to kneel beside the body. Intestines spilled out of the abdominal cavity. He was no doctor, no anatomist, but organs appeared to be missing. Althea had no other marks. No photon blaster burns, no cuts across the throat, no bashing to the skull. He hoped he was wrong, but he suspected the evisceration had been inflicted premortem. Althea had been alive when she’d been disemboweled.
If he hadn’t brought the K9-500 to the rarely used lab, there was no telling when the body would have been discovered. The locker’s airtight seal would have prevented the odor of decomposition from permeating. It was a perfect place to hide a body.
His gaze shifted to the unopened lockers. Hell and damnation. He got to his feet. “You may not want to see this,” he warned.
The handle of the fourth unit turned easily, but as soon as he cracked the door, the decay hit his nose.
“Another body?” Miranda pulled her tunic up to cover her nose and mouth.
“Unfortunately, yes.” He eased open the door and let the gassy corpse slump to the floor. Lockers five and six also yielded bodies, the last one appearing to be a more recent death.
Dante compressed his lips. “You said nine colonists had disappeared?”
“At the time I reported it, yes. I haven’t counted lately.”
He’d brought the New Utopians on board to save their lives, and now it appeared a serial killer had targeted them. The perpetrator was probably one of them, but he’d failed to deliver the safety he’d promised.
He turned to Miranda. He regretted having doubted her. She’d been the only one to notice people were missing. Somehow it had slipped by the civilian liaison and his first officer. “I would like you to be there when I meet with Lieutenant Commander Brack and Mr. Ochoa.”
“Of course.” She moved to the table where the K9-500 sat quietly. She disconnected the cable, closed its access panel, and reached under his collar. “I’ll shut him down.”
“Leave him activated.”
“He might attack—”
“Keep him on a short leash, but take him with you whenever you’re not in your cabin.” He didn’t want to alarm her, but he would feel more comfortable if she had a little extra protection until he knew how and why the victims had been chosen by the killer. Was it random? Or were the individuals themselves targeted?
Miranda set the bot on the floor. Metal nails clicking, the bot padded to Althea’s body, tilted his head back and howled. A chill traveled up Dante’s spine. It was almost as if Sparky knew Althea was dead—and cared. A bot’s programming allowed it to differentiate between organic and AI, between living and dead, but it didn’t develop feelings.
Miranda frowned as she watched the dog.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Sparky always reacted positively to Althea until she returned after being gone, and he tried to attack her. Now, it looks like he likes her again.” She motioned to Sparky. “Come.” The dog trotted to her side and sat. His synthetic tongue lolled out of his mouth.
“Since she’s dead, he probably doesn’t perceive her as dangerous,” he said, but he wasn’t sure he believed it. It was almost as if the dog had feelings.
The medical officer and two security team members entered the lab. Miranda tightened the leash around her hand. Sparky’s eyes flickered and his ears quirked, but he sat there, calm and quiet.
“You said there was only one body!” the medical officer gasped.
“I found three more after I called you. Unfortunately, there are probably more victims in other parts of the ship. I want a full autopsy. I need to know time of death, how they died, and the weapon used. Don’t wait for a full report to update me. Shoot me the details as you get them.”
He turned to the security chief. “Up the warning status from yellow to orange. Run a ship-wide bio scan. Get an exact headcount—and search for bodies. Check every bay, every cabin, every duct, every conduit, every locker, everything.”
“Aye, captain,” the security chief replied.
“I’ll be in my consult room with Lieutenant Commander Brack and the liaison. You know how to reach me.”
He beckoned to Miranda. He cupped her elbow, and with the K9-500 bot at her heel they left the lab.
Chapter Six
Miranda reeled, stunned and shocked by the senseless murders. This was far worse than what she’d feared. She’d observed there were fewer people in the unit, but she’d never expected this; however, it proved her gut instinct had been correct.
But it still didn’t add up. Literally. The lieutenant commander had counted the colonists, one by one. From the state of decomposition, Althea and the others had been dead at roll call, yet they’d been included in the total. How could that be? Dante would never accept anything less than precision and excellence. If he had considered Brack first officer material, then she was. So how had the lieutenant commander screwed up so bad?
No doubt that would be one of Dante’s first questions. He drummed his fingers impatiently while they waited for Lucille Brack and Warren Ochoa. She’d gotten the impression he had expected them to be waiting in the consult room when they’d arrived a few minutes ago.
Miranda also had a strong feeling the tardiness was due to the commander’s inability to locate Ochoa—because he was dead. He’d been one of the first people to go missing.
The viciousness of the murders would be etched on her brain forever, along with the tortures perpetuated on Verde Omega. She prayed Althea had died quickly—but feared the opposite.
Don’t think about that.
She rocked and hugged Sparky’s fuzzy, still body. Upon arriving, he’d acted like a typical dog, investigating the room, sniffing around. She was relieved he’d acted like his normal self, but Dante didn’t need the distractions. So she’d powered him down.
With each passing minute, as Dante’s impatience rose, the more frigid his expression became.
“Captain?” The medical officer’s voice wafted through the commlink. “I have preliminary test results.”
“Proceed.”
“I place the earliest death, Althea Withers’s, at two weeks ago. Two others died a week later, the forth was killed three days ago.”
All before the roll call. Verification they couldn’t have been counted!
Dante’s expression turned stonier. “Go on.”
“A preliminary scan has revealed traces of a foreign protein in the wounds of all four victims.”