Murder in Orbit (12 page)

“Charles! Come quickly! I need you!”

He sounded desperate. We heard a crashing sound. Then the intercom cut off.

Ignoring us, Dr. Hulan hurried out of the room.

We were close at his heels.

Chapter 17

The Sex Queen of Outer Space

Dr. Durkin's lab was a shambles. Tables were overturned. Equipment was scattered across the floor. Puddles of different-colored fluids spread onto piles of important-looking papers.

Dr. Durkin didn't look much better than his lab. His white coat hung in tatters about his shoulders, and he was covered with blood from several deep cuts.

He was standing in the far corner of the lab. Facing him, crouched on a table and making angry noises, was Ron—the chimp that had been so sick the day before.

“Thank God you're here,” said Dr. Durkin as Dr. Hulan came through the door. “You've got to help me subdue him!”

Then he spotted Cassie and me. “Rusty! Get out of here! And take that girl with you.
Now!”

The words were barely out of his mouth when Ron jumped.

It was horrible. The chimp I had been going to cuddle less than twenty-four hours earlier attacked Dr. Durkin like a whirlwind made of teeth and claws.

“Charles!” cried Dr. Durkin. “Help me!”

Dr. Hulan rushed forward. I was right beside him.

Durkin and the chimp were on the floor now. Durkin managed to get one foot against Ron's chest. He thrust out with his leg and sent the chimp flying against the wall. The animal slumped to the floor, momentarily stunned.

“Don't touch him!” commanded Dr. Durkin, struggling to get back onto his feet. “Get the gun. It's in my desk.”

Suddenly Ron was back on him, snapping and clawing again.

“Rusty,” snarled Dr. Hulan as he headed back toward Durkin's desk. “Get that girl out of here
now!”

“Cassie,” I said. “Get out of here.”

“Not unless you come, too.”

“Don't be stupid!”

“Don't you be stupid, Rusty. Come on!”

Muttering angrily, I grabbed her arm and hustled her out of the room. Behind us I could hear shouting and the sound of more equipment hitting the floor.

Suddenly everything went quiet.

I waited a second, then pushed the intercom button next to the door.

“Dr. Durkin?”

It was Dr. Hulan who answered. “Everything is under control, Rusty. I've anesthetized the chimp. Dr. Durkin is all right. I will handle things here. Please take the young lady elsewhere.”

“But—”

“Do as I say!” snapped Dr. Hulan. “I don't have time to argue.”

I stared at the floor for a minute, then turned to Cassie. “Come on,” I said. “I guess we'd better go.”

“Are things always this exciting around here?” she asked as we made our way down the hallway.

“Not until this week,” I said. Then I turned on her. “Why wouldn't you get out of there when I told you to?” I asked angrily.

“Dr. Durkin told us
both
to go,” she snapped back.

“But they might have needed my help.”

“Oh, really? And what was wrong with that chimp?”

“I don't know. I think he's sick.”

“Right. Which I assume is why Dr. Durkin told Dr. Hulan to use the gun. You don't tackle an animal like that with your bare hands unless you want to get sick, too. You might have been able to come up with something dumber than just wading into that fight, but offhand, I can't think of what it would have been.”

I hate it when you're having an argument and the other person hits you with a piece of irrefutable logic like that. Spurred on by my adrenaline, I had been on the verge of making the same stupid mistake I had almost made yesterday.

“Let's go see Dr. Collins,” I said, by way of changing the subject.

“Fine,” said Cassie.

We walked on a little way. “What does this one do for a living?” Cassie asked after a moment. “Grow spare parts for body transplants?”

“That's Dr. Twining's area,” I replied, ignoring her sarcasm. “Dr. Collins is studying the effects of weightlessness on the reproductive system. She's one of the world's foremost experts on the subject.”

“I bet there aren't a whole lot of them to begin with,” said Cassie. “Space sex isn't a big topic in most science courses.”

I might have sparred with her a bit on the topic, but my mind was still occupied by the terrible thing that had happened in Dr. Durkin's lab. We moved on in silence.

Martha Collins was a short, good-natured woman with twinkling eyes and a thick head of curly brown hair. She greeted us with enthusiasm, which seemed to make Cassie kind of nervous. (“I thought maybe she wanted to use us for some kind of experiment,” she told me later.)

After I introduced Cassie and explained that I was showing her around the BS Factory, Dr. Collins offered to give us a tour of her lab. That wasn't as exciting as it might sound; her experiments were pretty much confined to fruit flies and white mice. I suppose her work is important. But it is not, believe me, anything that is going to change your day-to-day life.

Toward the end of the tour we were playing with some baby mice while Dr. Collins explained the effects that weightlessness had had on the mother during her pregnancy. We had just put the babies back into their cage and started toward the next area Dr. Collins wanted to show us when a door slid open in the right-hand wall just ahead of us. One of Dr. Collins's research assistants stepped through. I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be several cages as the door slid shut behind him.

The researcher seemed startled to see us. He shot a questioning glance at Dr. Collins.

“It's okay, Max,” she said. “I'm just giving them a tour of the operation.”

Max nodded and continued on his way.

“What's that room for?” asked Cassie, indicating the door Max had just come through.

Dr. Collins shrugged. “Nothing much. It's primarily a rest area. Come on, there's something I want to show you over here. Then I really have to return to my own work. But I do hope you'll bring Cassie back sometime, Rusty. It's always nice to have a chance to show off one's passions.”

“What do you think?” asked Cassie.

“About what?”

“About Dr. Collins, Einstein! What did you think I wanted your opinion on? Navel lint?”

“Actually, that can be a rather deep subject. I have some rather profound thoughts on the topic.”

She snorted. “Probably just more of your fuzzy thinking. Save it for later, and tell me what you think of the Sex Queen of Outer Space.”

“Well, I think she did a good job of making sure we only saw what she wanted us to.”

“You got that impression, too, huh?”

I nodded. “Sure did. And did you notice how nervous Max looked when he stepped out in front of us? I don't know what they've got in that back room, but I'll bet you a bowl of rabbit stew it's more than a couple of easy chairs and a coffeepot. In fact, I thought I saw some cages back there. But I couldn't be sure. Did you get a look through the door at all?”

Cassie shook her head, which caused her honey-colored hair to whisk over her shoulders in a very distracting way. “Couldn't see a thing. Max was in the way.”

“We'll put that on our list of things to check out if we decide to get really snoopy,” I said. “In the meantime, I have to get myself over to Dr. Twining's lab. It's time for my shift to start.”

“Shall I come along, or do you think I ought to go poking around on my own?”

“Come on along. I'd at least like you to meet the guy. But once I start working, you might as well head out and do a little more investigating. It'll be pretty boring for you to just sit there and watch.”

“Were you serious when you were talking about Dr. Twining's work earlier?” she asked as we made our way down the corridor.

“What did I say?”

She gave a little shudder. “You know—about him growing spare body parts.”

I laughed. “Serious, but seriously exaggerating. Dr. Twining's real project is limb and organ regeneration in mammals. I suppose if he ever really beats it, then he could use the same tactics for growing spare parts. But the real goal is to figure out how people can regrow their own parts when something happens to them.”

When we reached the lab, we found Dr. Puckett already there, cheerfully insulting Dr. Twining. Dr. Puckett ignored us, and I got the impression he didn't want Dr. Twining to know we were working together.

Dr. Twining glanced at his watch. “I am stunned into near silence, Rusty. It's only ten minutes past the time you're supposed to be here; I didn't expect to see you for at least another twenty. If I can attribute this new punctuality to the charming young lady standing beside you, then perhaps you'd better introduce us.”

I did, and then let Dr. Twining introduce Dr. Puckett as if we had never met him before. I could tell from the look on the old scoundrel's face that he was enjoying the charade.

“Dr. Puckett is a patient of mine,” said Dr. Twining. “Though why I continue to treat him I can't say, since he is without a doubt the most exasperating one I have ever had to deal with.”

Dr. Puckett beamed.

“Stop smiling,” said Dr. Twining severely. “Despite your aggravating ways I'd like to keep you alive for a while longer—not an easy task, considering the way you treat yourself. That blood-pressure situation is like a time bomb waiting to go off.”

Dr. Twining turned to me. “You might as well start your work, Rusty. I have a few more things to discuss with Dr. Puckett. Then I'll see if I can help you with that problem you were having yesterday.” He turned back to Dr. Puckett. “If you'll just wait a moment, Elmo, I'll get you something for that blood pressure.”

Dr. Twining turned to the cabinet behind his desk; Dr. Puckett took advantage of the moment to pass me a note. I went to my work station and unfolded it.

Cassie peered over my shoulder as I read it.

Rusty—

I've got the whole thing figured out. If you're still in the dark by the time you're done here today, come and see me. I will be glad to dispense enlightenment—though I may require several hours of lab duty as penance for your obtuseness.

—E.P.

“You know,” whispered Cassie, “I honestly believe Elmo may be the most annoying man in the world.”

“The universe,” I replied. “He'd be offended by the thought of anything less.”

Chapter 18

Disaster

I had been staring at the same slice of frog brain for several minutes without really seeing it. Finally I decided to adjust my microscope.

It didn't do any good. The problem wasn't in the equipment. It was my brain that was out of focus. I couldn't think about anything except the mysterious events of the last few days—and the fact that they seemed to be getting more mysterious by the hour.

I was alone in the lab: Dr. Puckett had returned to the colony; Cassie had wandered off, ostensibly out of boredom, but really to do as much snooping as she could manage while she waited for me; and Dr. Twining, after helping me a bit with what I was studying, had disappeared into his private office.

“Sorry, frog,” I said at last, putting away my materials. “I'd hate to think you died in vain. But the truth is, you and I are just not connecting today.”

Crossing to the message board, I picked up the light pen and left a note in large, glowing letters:

Dr.T.—
I hit another snag in my research—out wandering around while I try to figure it out.

—Rusty

That was absolutely true, of course, as long as I didn't specify which “research question” I was trying to figure out.

Now what?

I thought maybe I'd try to find Cassie and see if we could do some more investigating together. I'm not sure that two heads are really better than one, but they're certainly less lonely.

I realized that gave me a good excuse to get back into people's labs: “Excuse me, but I'm looking for my girlfriend. I have to get back to the colony now, and I can't find her. Is she in here?”

Where to begin? I had six labs to choose from, and each of them had something that could do with a little investigation.

I decided to start with Dr. Durkin's lab. It was unlikely I would find Cassie there, but I was anxious to know what had happened after the fight with Ron.

I pressed the button beside Dr. Durkin's door.

No one answered.

I tried the door. The lab was unlocked.

I hesitated only a moment before deciding to go in.

Someone had made a minimal effort to clean the place up. Most of the furniture was upright again, and some of the debris had been swept into piles. But for the most part it was still a shambles.

I kicked aside a test tube rack and walked toward the back of the lab. I couldn't see any sign of Ron. I wondered what had happened to the poor little guy.

The basic floor plan for all seven labs in the BS Factory is pretty much the same. The main section is a large research room, where the head scientist, his or her assistants, and a few interns like myself do most of their work. Floor tracking and modular wall designs allow each scientist to divide the lab to suit personal taste and needs. They can create anything from small darkrooms to clean-air facilities that can prevent foreign particles as small as a few microns from entering an area and contaminating an experiment. Each lab also has a washroom, a few cubicles where the underlings have some desk space, and a private office for the lead scientist.

I poked my head into the washroom. The floor was stained with blood. A stack of bloody towels in the far corner served as further reminder of the grisly fight that had taken place here earlier that morning.

I looked in the cubicles. They were empty.