Introduction: Grim Khonsu is a serialised sci-fi detective noir story, set aboard a vast generation ship.
I returned to my place to find Minerva sitting in my damn chair again. There was a half-full glass on the desk in front of her, a thin layer of ice on the opaque liquid.
“You’re late,” she said. She eased back and smoothed down her jacket. Straight fit, black, no frills, over a white round-necked top. Hair tied back, no cosmetics, thin mouth. Her usual uniform.
“It’s early.” I shrugged off my coat, tossed it on the stand by the door, then nodded to the window-image behind her. “Getting light out.”
The image was aligned with Khonsu time and showed a stylised city-scape, like in the old files — low sunlight reflecting off gleaming towers, dark sky retreating to the left. Wouldn't be my choice, but Minerva chose it. Same as the old library decor on the walls and the oppressive wood panelling on the ceiling.
She didn’t take her eyes off me. “I’ve been waiting for three hours and twenty minutes.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” I threw myself into the closest of the two chairs on the client’s side of the desk. Would’ve preferred to relax in the arm-chairs to the far side of the room, but Minerva was all business — as always. “Come on in. Grab a drink and make yourself at home.”
“Thank you.” If there was sarcasm in her response, it was pushed down as deep as her personality.
I took off my hat and brushed it down. They said the material was stay-clean, but they said a lot of things. With my job, I've learnt it's better to treat everything with scepticism.
Minerva glanced down at the front of my shirt. “Rough night?”
I followed her gaze. “It’s not my blood.”
“I didn't expect it to be. Was it another black-out?”
“They’re not….” I shook my head. “I was present throughout. Just a spot of bother.”
“What kind of bother?”
“The kind that happens when people don’t know when to keep quiet.”
She didn’t say anything with her mouth, but her expression spoke volumes.
“Sorry. I’m tired.” I waved a hand vaguely. “Dukas. Winding idiots up.”
“You were out with Elect Alexis Dukas?”
“Yeah. Me and Alex, best of pals. Of course I wasn’t out with that reptile. I was in The Depths, trying to relax. And before you say anything, the dive’s reputation isn’t deserved. Sure, it has its problems, but it’s no worse than half the other pits in this hulk. And the gal blowing on stage is always worth checking out.”
“When you say blowing…”
“You think that low of me? Music. Proper music. Sapphire might use backing, but the horn’s all her. Finest set of lungs in the business. She’s got the kind of control others can only dream about.”
“And yet, for all her talent, she’s forced to perform at The Depths.”
“Few people in Khonsu recognise genuine talent.”
She glanced at my shirt again. “So, did Sapphire’s wailing start a riot?”
“Very funny. You’re a philistine. No, she finishes her first set, and management switch on the surround. Dukas on a muted flat, transcript running. Usual stuff — call for a return to pure humanity, evils of hybridisation. I swear half the lines against machine sentience were verbatim pro-bio playbook. Then he starts on about spinal jacks, says it’s wrong to shove data into the nervous system like that.”
“And you’re not of the same opinion.”
I shrugged. “Each to their own. Dukas wants to stay Elect, so he’s courting big financers, playing to the masses. Not my business. I stay out of it.”
“The state of your attire suggests otherwise.”
“Not my fault. People reading the transcript, start arguing. Didn’t take long for things to develop. And the Depths has strong lock-down procedures. Things turn ugly, heavy doors slam down and enforcers come up. Vande — you know Vande, right?”
“Not personally, but you’ve mentioned that she owns the establishment.”
“Owns or runs. I don’t know the precise deal. Anyway, she’s hired a few abbos, physical freaks. One of those buggers has three arms.”
Minerva rolled her eyes. “It would be preferable if you didn’t resort to such terms.”
“You know what I mean, though.”
“I do. But others might take offence.”
I made a play of looking round the room, didn’t say anything.
Minerva got the hint. I damn well know she did. But she threw my expression back at me and waited.
“Fine. Vande hires aberrants. Genetic deviants. Whatever the polite term is now. And if you want to get all one-ness about it, I don’t reckon hiring them for thug-work is helping the cause.”
“Your social concern is to be applauded. So, you find yourself locked in, and the only way out is to fight these poor, abused people.”
“One of those ‘poor, abused people’ snapped some girl’s leg right in front of me.”
“And you came to her aid.”
“It wasn’t my fight. There’s a service door at the rear, doesn’t have the same heavy security.”
“So you ran away.”
“Extricated myself from a dangerous situation that was none of my concern. It wasn’t like I was there on a case.”
“And the blood?”
"Violence and alcohol, too many idiots want to try their luck. Had to persuade a bunch to let me past."
“Do you recall the details?”
“Sure.”
“And?”
“Not important. I did what I had to.”
“Which was?”
The books on the walls — the images of books — leaned in, all archaic writing on their spines. As if books weren’t archaic enough. I didn’t reckon there was a single book on Khonsu, but everyone knew what they were. Pull up a text in a holo, and it showed as a book. There’s no reason it should, but we end up flicking over pages in the holo, just like those dusty things Minerva liked to have on display.
Some things never change. Things like violence, and the need to fight back.
“They were still breathing when I left. Is that good enough for you?”
Minerva gave me her professional but concerned look. “Your job is important to this whole ship, Grim. The Public Law and Order Department can only do so much. You’re one of the few on Khonsu who can tread where the officials can’t. And you understand this place at a deeper level.”
“Yeah, I’m a regular hero.”
“Don’t put yourself down. But you need to be careful. Violence should only ever be used as a last resort.”
“You mean, I can only use it when a bunch of tooled arseholes are trying to kill me? Or is that not severe enough?”
“I’m sure you could have avoided the encounter.”
“You weren’t there.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have been either.”
“I needed to relax. The last case left a bad taste in my mouth.”
“You said you were fine.”
I had. Because it was easier than trying to explain. I never like cases involving kids.
“You need to open up, Grim. You need to be honest with yourself, and then harness the strength to talk to me.”
“Right now I need a shower and a few hours’ shut-eye.”
“I wasn’t suggesting we talk now. Besides, you don’t have the time.” She sat straight, and her voice dropped back into her professional tone. “You have a client. She’s arriving in three hours and forty-two minutes.”
Of course. Why else was she here?
“A client.”
“Yes.”
“Does this client have a name?”
“Aveline Peron. The arrangement details are filed as usual.”
“And I’ve only got three and a half hours to sort myself out, grab some sleep, and do my initial research. You couldn’t have told me sooner?”
“You instructed Lola to hold contact?”
“Don’t pretend you can’t bypass my assist.”
“I respect your boundaries, Grim. And I suggested the client come later, but she was adamant she talk to you at the earliest convenience.”
“Her earliest convenience, you mean. And she’s only a potential client. I need to hear what she has to say for herself.”
Minerva smiled. “Of course you do. And I’m sure you’ll be ready to greet her in a professional manner.”
“Sure. I’ll even put on a new shirt.”