When an unknown substance on a public sundial is thought to be evidence of foul play, Detective Wyatt Kask is called in by the police to help determine the nature of the crime. Over the course of the night, Kask and the Sheriff of Wellington are pul...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Warner's seventy-floor apartment building looked like a thin plate of graphite wedged between the fat steel rods of business towers. Their transport rail guided them gently downward to a dock on the second floor, just above the walk-troughs.
Kask disembarked and looked down at the walk-trough, which was an off-white groove between buildings, lit at regular intervals by yellow lights. While Hakihea slowly climbed out of the transporter, Kask pulled out a small device from his trench coat, checking it over before putting it away again.
"What was that?" Hakihea asked as he came up behind him.
"My gat."
"Huh?"
"A sonic stunner. Used a similar thing to pacify trouble-makers in the colonies."
"That technology was originally developed by Pendant, actually," Hakihea said. "They observed how certain whales stun their prey with focused beams of sound. The stun tech just makes people sick and lose control rather temporarily--it can't knock them out, right?"
"Of course not. Unless they hit their head when they fall."
"Wait, you wouldn't use that indoors, would you? The sound can bounce off the walls."
"Not unless I absolutely must. I do have training and experience in how to use it safely. Let's go." They approached the building, following a walkway around to its broad side. There was no entrance or lobby, merely an external elevator tube. Hakihea used his law-enforcement credentials to open the locked elevator door. They entered the metal cylinder and ordered it to the eighth floor. It rushed upward, providing a city view while blasting them with filtered air. They arrived at the floor just before the air cycle was complete, so there was a slight pause before the door slid open.
They stepped into a short, narrow corridor. The bright lamps above were hidden by vine-holding trellises, their light filtered green by wide leaves. There were four apartment doors on each side of the corridor. They approached Warner's number, and Kask noticed a triangular device clinging to the metal wall like a robotic barnacle. But it was actually moving slowly, cleaning the wall as it went. A logo of a stylized out-stretched hand was painted on its top. Kask rang the door.
After a minute, the door slid open, and a disheveled, middle-aged man stood looking up at them.
"What the ... ?" the man said, followed by a very rude expletive in a sincerely questioning tone.
"Oh, ah, ah, we're so sorry to bother you, uh ..." Hakihea stammered.
"Are you Phil Warner?" Kask asked.
"Yeah, what of it?"
"We're so sorry to wake you, Mr. Warner," Hakihea said soothingly.
"Wake me? You think I was sleeping? You think a man like me has time to sleep?!"
