Secrets die only when those who know the truth pass beyond the world.

— Erich Quizibian, c. 5070 PD

5 Decem, 5249 PD

“Well Inspector, this is as far as we go.”

The station at Cassini VII was far busier than he’d expected it might be, considering how far out on the fringes of civilization it was.  Timrel Winston glanced back over his shoulder at his transport’s commander, a stocky man with the look of a long-term spacer.  “Of course,” he said.  “You told me that from the start.  I’ll still need to find a ride to the Colony.  Any suggestions?”

The Tania’s captain hesitated with a slight frown before he said, “You might try the Mission Systems office on the fifth ring.  Rumors on the newsvids are saying that they’re going to pull all of their ops out beyond the Whispers.  They might be able to take you as far as the Colony if you’ve got the credits.”

Credits I’m not worried about, Tim thought.  It’s getting out there and completing my assignment.  Finding out what’s actually going on this far out here—finding out what happened to the Whispers.

Who killed that planet and why?

His communicator shivered in his pocket, just once, signaling that he had messages that had come in while the Tania was in jump.  “Up on the fifth ring?  Hard to find?”

“Shouldn’t be,” the Tania’s captain said.  “I can send someone to show you the way.”

Tim stooped to pick up his duffle, shaking his head.  “No, if it’s not hard to find, I shouldn’t have a problem.  Thank you, Captain.”

“Always a pleasure to serve the Commonwealth, Inspector.  Have a safe trip.”

“I hope to,” Tim said with a smile.  The other man gave him one last nod and then turned and walked away, headed to oversee loading and unloading of cargo.  The inspector’s smile faded as he shouldered his bag and turned away, heading into the bustle of the Cassini VII station.  His stomach growled, half insisting on a meal sooner rather than later and he frowned.

I should probably grab a bite now in case I can’t later, shouldn’t I?  He shook his head at himself and started to hunt down one of the omnipresent chains that littered every spaceport from here to New Earth and out to the far end of the homosphere again.  He dug his communicator out of his pocket as he walked, tapping at it with a thumb as he wended his way through the station’s crowds.

The Inspector General sent me an eyes only priority one?  That never happens.  Frowning, he glanced around for the nearest patch of private space available, changing course from his initial hunt for sustenance.  Then again, I’ve never investigated something as big as this before—no one except the Inspector General has, and she wasn’t even lead on that case.

Frederick Rose was, and he’s dead.  Whoever killed Mimir killed him, too.

Tim shivered.  The Inspector General had warned him.  The full weight of that warning hadn’t quite sunken in by the time he’d left New Earth.  Now it was finally starting to.

He found the public baths, tended by a slender, black-haired girl with almond eyes.  She smiled at his approach, peachy pink lips drawing back from straight white teeth.

“Something I can help you with, Inspector?”  Her Universal was flawless except for the hint of a Chinasian accent.

He shifted his bag.  “Do the baths have private facilities?”

“We have public and private baths, sir,” she said.  “We try to cater to all cultural sensibilities.  More profitable that way.”

“Of course,” he said, eyes drifting to the menu.  He dug his credit tab out of his pocket and handed it to her.  “Just a private room, please.”

“Of course,” she said, her voice a purr.  She ran his chit and handed it back, fingers brushing almost suggestively against his as she did.  “Follow me.”

Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling about this?  He tried to ignore the nervous butterflies suddenly dancing in his stomach as he followed the woman through a shimmering privacy screen and into the baths.  Beyond the short hallway, Tim caught sight of some traveling businessmen who looked like they probably hailed from Idesalli or Quildana Corp enjoying the public baths with a few pretty girls who were as naked as the day they were born.  A shiver worked its way down his spine.  He’d never been a fan of being out in the open like that.

“Are you all right, Inspector?”

Damn.  Did she notice the shiver, or is the discomfort all over my face?  He smiled.  “Of course.”

She offered him another smile and ducked down another hallway, leading him past a series of smaller chambers.  She parted another privacy curtain and nodded down a third corridor.  “All of these are available in your price range.  If there is…anything…else that we can do to make your visit more pleasurable, do not hesitate to let us know.”

Her tone of voice made his stomach give an uncomfortable twist.  It’s not just a damned baths, it’s a whorehouse, too?  He smothered a grimace and nodded.  “I’ll be sure to do that, Miss.  Thank you again.”

She smiled and turned away, hips giving one suggestive little twitch before he turned away and let the curtain fall closed between them.

Damn.  He knuckled his eyes as he slumped against the wall.  All cultural sensibilities indeed.  I think every single one of mine was just offended by that.  I wonder if the owners tell al the women to do that?

Hell.  They’re probably hired for it.

Tim shook himself.  He wasn’t here to investigate bathhouses in the outer reaches.  He was here to find out why a planet had died.

He levered himself off the wall and headed partway down the corridor.  The room he picked was small and quiet with a large tub made of dark stone dominating the space.  He sealed the door and sank down on the edge of it, tugging his communicator free of his pocket again.

“Bloody hell,” he breathed.  “What was so damned important that it’s flagged P-1 and eyes only?”  Tim rummaged around in his jacket for his earpiece.  There wasn’t a point in those flags if anyone overheard what Sephora Damerian had to tell him.

He jacked the earpiece into the communicator and plugged the other end into his ear, tapped in his code, and waited for her message to come across.

He swore again when he realized that she’d used maximum encryption, too.  What the hell is this?

Then he heard the fear in her voice, buried beneath the steel, as the message filtered through.

“Tim, this is the Inspector General.  Listen carefully and destroy this message once you’ve listened to it.  Trust no one inside the confines of the Commonwealth.  Rose knew more than he ever told anyone here.  He had his reasons.  Find his friends on E-557.  They should help you.  You—and they—might be our only hope.  Find the man named Windsor.  Shoot a tight-beam to my personal line when you make contact.  Out.”

Trust no one?  Of course Rose knew more, but…no one?  And who’s this Windsor?  His jaw tightened.  Somewhere between here and the Colony at Eridani Trelasia, he was going to have some serious research to do.

He listened to the message a second time before he destroyed it and keyed in the tight-beam to the Inspector General.  What time is it there?  Hell, she said to tight-beam her personal comm as soon as I got the message.

Sephora’s voice was groggy as she answered.  “Damerian.”

Damn.  I woke her.  “Inspector General, it’s Winston.”

“Tim.”  She was instantly more alert.  “Where are you?”

“In a private room in a bathhouse at Cassini VII,” he answered.  “What changed between the time you gave me this assignment and now, ma’am?”

“I got a warning from beyond the grave,” she said grimly.  “I found something in the archive about Mimir.  You need to be careful, Tim.  Bloody careful.”

He grimaced.  “You already told me that.  You said it when I left.”  His brows knit.  “What did you mean when you said I can’t trust anyone inside the Commonwealth?”

“Exactly what I said,” she told him.  “Frederick Rose uncovered a conspiracy within the Commonwealth around the time Mimir died.  He didn’t get the chance to warn me while he was still breathing—probably because he uncovered it almost too late and didn’t want to endanger me any more than I already was.”

“A conspiracy?”

“Yes,” Sephora said.  “Look, Tim, don’t ask for any more details.  I will get them to you personally if I can.  I need you to find his friends on E-557.  I need you to find them and learn what they know.”

“What makes you so sure they know anything?”  Tim asked.  What makes you think that they didn’t have something to do with his getting killed, or what happened at the Whispers?  What makes you think I can trust them?

She exhaled a quiet sigh.  “There was no one in the universe he trusted more than a man named Adam Windsor,” she said after a moment.  “Not me, not even his wife.  If anyone knows anything about what happened that we don’t, then it’s him.  He’s on E-557, Tim, and I need you to find him.  Tell him that we know about the conspiracy and ask for his help.”

“Help with what, though?”

“Finding out who killed the Whispers,” she said.  “And who killed Mimir and is probably about to kill the Commonwealth from the inside out.”

No pressure, huh?  “You’re sure about this?”

“More sure about this than anything else,” she said.  “I’ll try to keep you in the loop and I’ll try to run interference, keep you safe, but out there…you’re on your own, Tim.  Be careful.”

“Always, ma’am,” he said.  “Will you be able to make contact again?”

“Not anytime soon,” she said.  “Any reports you have I want maximum encrypt and forwarded to me for my eyes only.  I meant what I said—don’t trust anyone else Commonwealth.  I don’t know how far the conspiracy goes.”

“Right,” he said quietly.  “I’ll do what I can, ma’am.  I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Stay alive,” she said.  “You’re more use to me alive without having solved this mystery than you would be dead and having solved it.”

“I’ll try,” he said.

The channel died and he sat there on the rim of the tub, staring at nothing, for a long, long time.