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Working in a computer time span, it felt like it took him hours to find the data, though in real time it was less than ten minutes.

Madspark’s data was far more secure than he would have expected, with layers of defenses that seemed far above what an individual might need.  Even if that individual was a murderer . . .

Much of the data had intentionally started being corrupted and overriden with nonsense as soon as his life-signs had ceased, and Urle could tell that this man was part of something bigger.

The fact that Madspark probably didn’t even know some of these safeguards existed – they were hidden from his own system – told Urle that he was far from the top layer in this chopping racket.  He was a peon, to be sacrificed.

This went much deeper.

With the losses of data, he couldn’t get any hard evidence, but he could tell that there had been other murders.  Madspark himself seemed to have been involved in several dozen, and he saw hints that others were involved in even more such crimes . . .  Possibly hundreds or even thousands.

The augmented community weren’t fools, they were dedicated enough to their lifestyle to risk life-threatening surgeries often, throwing away what evolution had crafted over billions of years for something better – but far less proven.  There was always immense risk, and data was shared on a staggering scale to mitigate that.

Scanning public records, though, he saw no evidence of strange disappearances, murders, or anything else similar.  People often disappeared – but through movement or accidental deaths or any one of a thousand other reasons that did not draw suspicion.  Over a billion augs lived in Gohhi, across thousands of stations, so fudging even a few thousand deaths would be doable – with enough resources.

That meant that it was being covered up by powerful people.  Someone with a lot of money was acting the hyper-predator against the hardest of victims.

Extracting what data he could for later digestion from Madspark, he blanked the rest and then went into the shop’s system and erased all evidence of his and Kell’s presence, along with activating the cleaning drones to scrub their physical traces.  After that, the drones would wander off and find creative ways to get themselves destroyed, taking with them the last evidence that he and Kell had ever been here.

It was a crime, what he was doing.  Kell defending him had not been, but . . .

He found himself in a moral quandary.  What he was doing was unethical, but this was Gohhi Station.  Despite the claims, all who had experienced the place knew that law and justice existed as commodities, not concepts upon which society was built.

It hurt him to behave this way.  But whoever was behind these attacks had enough power to also have made themselves invisible.  They’d bury this just as easily.  He’d never even get a chance for justice if they found him, nor would the murdered man.

He executed the cleaning program, then stepped out into the main shop area.  Kell was standing completely erect and still at the counter, which was actually kind of reasonable, given the locking mechanical legs many augs possessed.

“Let’s go.  Did anyone come in?”

“Yes,” Kell said, already heading towards the door.

Urle stopped.  “What did you say?”

Kell stopped as well, looking back at him.  “I informed him that the shop was closed.”

“And he believed a stranger?” Urle asked nervously.

“I appeared to him as the proprietor.”

Urle had to digest that.  “What?”

Kell smiled, mockingly.  “I can look how I wish.  I am quite capable of fooling your kind.  Even augmented ones.”

Urle hesitated, but remembered that it had been Kell who had made first contact with humanity, by simply mimicking an aide to the First Minister on Earth and walking up to him.

“All right, then . . . let’s get going.”

They left out the back, Urle scrambling the nearby sensors – all 437 of them that might capture some evidence of their presence – and then they were essentially free.  Except for the footage that already existed in a server hub that would show them walking into the shop . . .

“Look, Kell, you should head back to the ship.  I need to do a little more work and look into what just happened here.  You don’t need to be involved in any of it-“

“I will continue with you,” Kell said.  It was a statement, not a request, and Urle hesitated.

“It will be dangerous, Ambassador.”

“Yes.  You nearly died, and would have if I had not been there.”

It was hard to argue with that.  “All right, but you have to follow my lead – and we can’t do what you did back there, ripping a man’s head open!”

“He was already dead,” Kell noted.  “He could no longer care.”

“I care, damn it.  You have to promise.”

Kell took a deep breath, which Urle’s system noted did not actually use any of the available oxygen – he literally did it to show his exasperation alone.  “Very well,” he said.  “I will refrain from opening human skulls.”

Urle sighed as well, and logged into the station’s legal channels.  “I’m going to get myself a private detective license to facilitate this-“

Kell perked up.  “What is that?”

“Er, well some places allow private individuals to get special permission to perform investigations for legal purposes . . .”

“I have heard of these people,” Kell said.  “I would like this license.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Kell nodded, very seriously.

“They’re expensive, I can cover it, but . . .”

“I do not use the Ex I am told is at my disposal,” Kell said.  “I will compensate you later.”

Urle felt his head starting to hurt.  “Fine.  There.  Now you have a license.”

Kell seemed pleased, taking out a tablet that Urle did not even know he carried, and examined his new license.

Urle could not help but to ask; “How do you even know what a private detective is?”

Kell considered a moment before answering.

“Your kind are not always oblivious to the existence of Shoggoths.  Some have found evidence and attempted to learn more – and met what they sought.  Some of those people were detectives.  I have been told of them.”

“And what happened to those detectives?”

Kell looked up at Urle, his face, as always, neutral, with only a hint of tension that suggested the seriousness of his next words.

“Few who seek out forbidden knowledge meet pleasant ends,” he said.

A feeling of dread crawled up Urle’s spine, but he then thought of the store owner, who had died, ultimately, because he’d tried to pry into Urle’s own secrets.

“I think I understand,” Urle said.

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< Ep 7 Part 28 | Ep 7 Part 30 >