The three-day Climber ride down-Thread gave Chief Inspector Reth Njeri too much time to stew. On Peponi Station, he’d left behind two unresolved deaths. Beyond frustrating. Yet the protocols were iron-clad: six-month shifts maximum. He’d still need two weeks of rehab before he could resume his duties.

 

Njeri’s earbud pinged.

 

“Pardon, Chief Inspector. There’s been an incident in the Level One cabins,” said the Climber’s head steward.

 

Njeri checked his chrono. At five hundred kph, six more hours before reaching Thread-base. He sighed. Probably just enough time to add another unsolved case.

 

* * *

 

The service lift’s doors opened on Head Steward Ogutu waiting inside a gleaming AutoChef galley. Four charging alcoves, all occupied by inert steward droids, took up one bulkhead, five sleek door panels another.

 

Ogutu waved open the middle door and ushered Njeri into an elegant lounge area where med-techs were treating two men and two women. A steward droid circulated, offering water to passengers and medics.

 

Ogutu led Njeri to another door. The steward’s fingers danced over the door’s holo-pad, and it slid aside.

 

Donning forensic glasses, Njeri slowly scanned the enormous cabin, its opulence marred by the bloated body sprawled in the center. He moved closer to the late Oscar Wolterschott, owner of Perpetua Robotics. His glasses’ AI chimed, flagging the two swollen black pinpricks on Wolterschott’s neck. Just like Supervisor Moaka on Peponi, Njeri mused.

 

He turned to Ogutu. “What happened?”

 

“At 20:27 Engineering received an atmosphere purge alert for Level One. Engineer Wakare immediately commed. I mobilized the EMTs. Level One access is via the service lift only and requires my code. We arrived at 20:32. By the time I coded in, Level One’s oxygen levels read nominal again. Wakare began diagnostics, while I opened the Cabins. Mr. Swila was unconscious in Four. Ms. Wolterschott-Jones and her, erm, guest were unconscious in Two. Ms. Li, occupant of Three, was found unconscious in One along with Mr. Wolterschott, who was dead.”

 

“Why contact me?” Njeri asked.

 

“The med-techs’ pre-autopsy scan determined cause of death was not hypoxia, but rather toxicosis. And they found this.” Ogutu extended a clear specimen bag containing a ring with two protruding spikes. “Fell off Ms. Li’s right pinky when they revived her.”

 

Thank you,” Njeri said, pocketing the bag. “The body can be removed now. After I inspect each cabin, I’ll question your passengers.”

 

* * *

 

Ms. Li, a serene, corpulent Buddha, seemed unperturbed to be back in Wolterschott’s cabin. Njeri’s glasses confirmed no elevated heart rate or anomalous breathing.

 

“Why were you here when the ventilation fault occurred?”

 

“Finishing intricate negotiations.”

 

Njeri brandished the specimen-bag-encased ring. “Yours?”

 

“No, Inspector.”

 

“The medics’ video record indicates it slipped off your pinky.”

 

Shock flashed across her face before she quickly reasserted control. “Interesting.”

 

She took a centering breath. “I presume your involvement means Oscar’s dead — a nightmare for my company. He illicitly acquired our proprietary transference research, and I could prove it. We were negotiating how much he was willing to cede to avoid very public litigation. But I’m still dataless, and negotiations with his heirs will start from scratch.” Ms. Li paused. “Perhaps the vindictive bitch was no longer content with torture.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“His ex’s incessant loud fornications with her boy-toy distracted Oscar no end. Unfortunately, com access to our flotillas of lawyers precluded engaging the cabin’s sound suppression field.”

 

* * *

 

“Wait, the manipulative bastard’s dead?!” Ms. Jones burst into hysterical tears. “Ten percent while he’s alive,” the former holo-star wailed. “Now I get nothing!”

 

Based on her corpus, Njeri doubted she was this good an actress. Mercifully, Njeri’s forensic glasses pinged. The data dump from Engineer Wakare obviated the need for further questioning.

 

* * *

 

“What’s your relationship with Dock Supervisor Bernard Moaka?”

 

“Don’t know him,” Mr. Swila replied.

 

The biometric spikes scrolling across Njeri’s glasses suggested otherwise.

 

“This yours?” Njeri asked, showing the pronged ring.

 

“No,” though his index finger’s indent belied that as well.

 

Njeri brandished a sleek rebreather. “This?”

 

“Yes. Could’ve used it when the air sucked out. Where’d you find it?”

 

“Behind your headboard.”

 

Swila frowned, confused.

 

“Why kill Oscar Wolterschott? Another job as a Syndicate enforcer?”

 

“You can’t pin that on me.”

 

“The ventilation fault was initiated from your cabin. The door activation logs show yours opened midway through the incident, then Wolterschott’s, then yours again.”

 

Swila remained silent.

 

“It’s the brig pod for you then.”

 

* * *

 

Njeri stared out Cabin Three’s expansive porthole at the growing pinpricks of Greater Nairobi. The door chimed.

 

“Enter,” Ms Li said.

 

The panel slid aside, admitting a steward droid.

 

“How may I serve?”

 

“Explain why you murdered Oscar Wolterschott,” Njeri replied.

 

“Droids cannot harm humans.”

 

“Except you’re not quite one. A true steward droid would have entered via the cabin’s rear service entrance. Though earlier, you used Four’s service door to sneak in and initiate the ventilation override. Once Mr. Swila was unconscious, you stole his rebreather and his ring. Exited via the main door and then reentered after you killed Wolterschott.”

 

Njeri held up Swila’s rebreather. “Funny thing — it’s still full. Impossible if Swila killed Wolterschott.”

 

The droid’s head slumped. “What happens now?”

 

“That depends on your explanation.”

 

“He kidnapped me. Transferred me into this. Just like the others, except his scientists said my integration was the most stable. But then they started shutting us down, flushing our original bodies. I grabbed mine and ran. Except I couldn’t blend in on Peponi Station carrying a body.”

 

The Jane Doe with no apparent cause of death, Njeri realized. “But why kill him?”

 

“He’d just try again with others. I couldn’t let that happen. While I was hiding I saw Swila inject that poor man, and when he boarded the same Climber as Wolterschott…”

 

The droid turned toward Ms. Li. “I’m sorry I made it look like Swila was framing you.”

 

“All is forgiven, dear. Provided you consent to letting me study your transference.”

 

They both looked at Njeri. He depressed a button and Swila’s rebreather vented air. “How clumsy of me.”