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swallow of his coffee. Solian... he said thoughtfully. I don't know enough
about Solian yet.
Did he have enemies? Damn it, didn't the man have even one friend? Or a lover?
If he was killed, was it for personal or for professional reasons? It makes a
huge difference.
Miles had glanced through Solian's military record on the inbound leg, and
found it unexceptionable. If the man had ever been to Quaddiespace before, it
wasn't since he'd joined the Imperial service six years previously. He'd had
two prior voyages, with different fleet consortiums and different military
escorts; his experiences had apparently included nothing more exciting than
handling an occasional inebriated crewman or belligerent passenger.
On average, more than half the military personnel on any tour of nexus escort
duty would be new to each other. If Solian had made friends - or enemies - in
the weeks since this fleet had departed Komarr, they almost had to have been
on the
Idris
. If his disappearance had been closer to the time of the fleet's arrival in
Quaddiespace, Miles would have pegged the professional possibilities to the
Idris as well, but the ten days in dock was plenty of time for a nosy security
man to find trouble stationside, too.
He drained his cup and punched up Chief Venn's number on the station-chair
console.
The quaddie security commander had also arrived early to work, apparently. His
personal office was evidently on the free fall side of things. He appeared
floating sideways to
Miles in the vid view, a coffee bulb clutched in his upper right hand. He
murmured a polite, Good morning, Lord Auditor Vorkosigan, but undercut the
verbal courtesy by not righting himself with respect to Miles, who had to
exert a conscious effort to keep from tilting out of his chair. What can I do
for you?
Several things, but first, a question. When was the last murder on Graf
Station?
Venn's brows twitched. There was one about seven years ago.
And, ah, before that?
Three years before, I believe.
A veritable crime wave
. Did you have charge of those investigations?
Well, they were before my time - I became security chief for Graf Station
about five years back. But there wasn't that much to investigate. Both
suspects were downsider transients - one killed another downsider, the other
murdered a quaddie he'd got into some stupid dispute over a payment with.
Guilt confirmed by witnesses and fast-penta interrogation. It's almost always
downsiders in these affairs, I notice.
Have you ever investigated a mysterious killing before?
Venn righted himself, apparently in order to frown more effectively at Miles.
I and my people are fully trained in the appropriate procedures, I assure
you.
I'm afraid I must reserve judgment on that point, Chief Venn. I have some
rather curious news. I had the Barrayaran fleet surgeon reexamine Solian's
blood sample. It appears that the blood in question was artificially produced,
presumably using an initial specimen or template of Solian's real blood or
tissue. You may wish to have your forensics people - whoever they are - retest
your own archived evidence from the freight bay and confirm this.
Venn's frown deepened. Then... he was a deserter - not murdered after all! No
wonder we couldn't find a body!
You run - you hurry ahead, I believe. I grant you the scenario has grown
extremely murky. My request, then, is that you locate all possible facilities
on Graf Station where such a tissue synthesis could be carried out, and see if
there is any record of such a batch being run off, and who for. Or if it could
have been slipped through off the record, for that matter. I think we can
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safely assume that whoever had it done, Solian or some unknown, was keenly
interested in concealment. The surgeon reports the blood likely was generated
not much more than a day before it was spilled, but the inquiry had better be
run back to the time the
Idris first docked, to be sure.
I... follow your logic, certainly. Venn held his coffee bulb to his mouth
and squeezed, then transferred it absently to his lower left hand. Yes,
certainly, he echoed himself more faintly. I'll see to it myself.
Miles felt satisfied that he'd rocked Venn off-balance to just the right
degree to embarrass him into effective action, yet not freeze him into
defensiveness. Thank you.
Venn added, I believe Sealer Greenlaw wished to speak with you this morning,
also, Lord Vorkosigan.
Very well. You may transfer my call to her, if you please.
Greenlaw was a morning person, it appeared, or else had drunk her coffee
earlier. She appeared in the holovid dressed in a different elaborate doublet,
stern, and fully
awake. Perhaps more by diplomatic habit than any desire to please, she
twitched herself around right-side-up to Miles.
Good morning, Lord Auditor Vorkosigan. In response to their petitions, I have
arranged you an appointment with the Komarran fleet's stranded passengers at
ten-
hundred. You may meet with them to answer their questions at the larger of the
two hostels where they are presently housed. Portmaster Thorne will meet you
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