The “Milli-Cochrane Caper” {Act 2.2}

Posted on Fri 13th Nov, 2020 @ 10:04am by Renato Solis & Commander Paul Graves PsyD

2,027 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Denouement
Location: SB109
Timeline: MD:3 1500

-Start-

Rickards had said no to any further involvement, Li's office wasn't returning his messages. He had seen Theo in the shadows the other night, and also dead on the autopsy table, and he Kiro had seen the face of the apparitions appearing all over. All Renato could do was eat his grapefruit, under strict orders from Kya to detoxify life and body. Silence only compounded the issues as he fought to control the impulses within. His mind was in a tumult, and he could think of nothing else.

The clues were insufficient, and in these cases you needed to ask more questions, to more people. The list of known contacts was several years out of date, and none had spoken to Theo in over a decade. Of the former contacts, only one had evidence of recent contact, the legal correspondence of a divorce. The man had come here to do work, leaving her behind for two years. He didn't reply to correspondence, and she waited two more years to have their marriage legally dissolved by other means.

Theo was his own killer. If anyone would know more it would be his ex-wife. The idea was crazy, and he didn't dare mention it to anyone except the person he trusted most on the station. She wouldnt talk to him, nobody with authority would make the call. Kya had told him to keep calm, reminded him of his tendencies towards impulsive behavior. So rather than call Theo's last know contact and stir the pot he asked for help.

Renato sent a message to him, Paul, I need you to listen to a conclusion I have arrived at in regards to a murder investigation. Are you available?

A few minutes later, he got a reply. Hello, Renato--I'm in the Second Officer's office on Deck 13. Come on up.

Renato felt fear hitting that floor level on the Turbolift. He had been outside for a long time, and this felt like going back to a former life. The invitation was simple, and time was precious so he simply went there, hoping his emotions would sort themselves along the way. Mercifully his telepathic ability was a meter at best so the souls of the thousands he passed were out of his senses. However the command deck featured sharp, agile minds that spoke very loudly.

He focused on the floor, following the path in his recall. The layout of the station, its myriad and labyrinthine passages were something he had memorized long ago, and used to great effect. He had never walked this path before, in more ways than one. At Paul's door, he found solid enough ground, and hit the door panel.

"Come in," Paul called out. He was reading reports on the readiness of the station's escape pods--all of them--which he was planning to inspect in a week. It would in fact take a week to inspect them.

The buzz behind his senses was at a dull roar, and Paul didn't broadcast loudly. Aside from the bright light, it was comfortable, or at least tolerable.

There were almost no personal items of Paul's in the Second Officer's office, except for a sweater hanging on a coat rack and one painting of a waterfall, probably from Betazed, judging from nearby architecture. Paul kept most of his personal items in his Counseling office on Deck 83.

The second officer's office contained three computer monitors and a heads-up display that mirrored the Flight Control Officer's screen. Two guest chairs stood before the desk, whose surface Paul kept reasonably neat for work. He kept a rack for PADDs and a container of styluses on the desk, with a cup of what smelled like ginger tea within easy reach.

"Have a seat, Renato. Can I get you a drink of anything?" Paul asked. Renato's emotions seemed--a bit agitated, Paul thought. Renato would explain it in good time, he decided, content to wait.

"Sparkling water? I had it yesterday, hint of apple flavor. Fantastic. Thank you, I hope I am not bothering you... it is nice to see your office finally." He took the offered seat, his senses a little raw from the walk. Paul had a soft effect on them, a familiar and known source didn't agitate him.

"The green apple flavor? Oh, yes--It tastes just like the apple you bit into." Paul ordered a glass of chilled apple-flavored water from the replicator and handed it to Renato. "Much better tasting than apple juice. So what sort of case brings you all the way up here? I was distracted and didn't really think about it when I invited you here, but I don't think I've ever seen you north of Deck 2445. I didn't even know you'd ever been to Tivoli Gardens."

"A visitor mostly after hours, the parks are very accommodating. Lovely area of the station, Brown Sector could strive to match it one day.... Paul, I'm... I need to report my findings to someone and I am not being entertained. However, I also feel completely insane for having the answer I do for the problems which exist. Can I speak candidly, let us discuss the pieces and see what you think?"

"Of course, always," Paul said, giving Renato his full attention as he took a sip of tea. "This involves official parties?"

"It should. I mean to say, that I've gotten a lot of facts to relate under a working theory, but to be fair to them, it's a little implausible and my reputation isn't helping. So far I've just been set aside. Detective Rickards has been my only point of contact, but even he treats me like an oddity for amusement. If you can hear me out and take my case to the Station security board if you think it's worthwhile... I hate going over Li's head, but I think there's a murderer on this station."

Paul could feel the certainty with which Renato believed his assertion. "It will require delicate handling," he said. "Tell me your hypothesis."

"So... a man kills a twin of himself he cloned somehow. And I think this isn't the first time, or the last. Theophilus Boule` made a copy of himself, killed this copy, and is presently hiding on the station, for reasons unknown. There are ghastly and serious sightings of flaming figures, one of our deputies was blinded, he saw the man, and I sort of, brushed his hand and got an image of what he saw, and I've seen Theo among the sleeping bodies of Brown just yesterday, but I was arrested and detained and told to keep away... Paul I'm so sorry; hearing it all out loud, I feel like I've had a breakdown."

A padd was pulled from his sleeve and dropped on the desk between them. With a more detailed recitation of the facts, the autopsy and private notes of other cases like the one at Siskar's where a secret tunnel was sure to be had, it read like a crazy person's manifesto, but the facts involved all checked out as facts. The question Renato needed answered was how they connected. The sightings, the body, the man in the dark place, all the same case.

"Why do you say clone and not just the guy's twin?" Paul asked. "Computer, display public ID profile of Theophilus Boule."

Renato had no immediate answer, he pointed to the genetic markings, "The usual twin pairings have at least some differences, as well as differences like radiation exposure, or other lifetime choices and the scars they leave. The last time our murder victim used the transporter is virtually identical to the DNA present at the autopsy. No family history of twins, only child, actually. The man has only spoken to his ex-wife in the last four years, even his colleagues don't hear him speak. There are, or were, two "Theophiluses" on board, only ever a record of one, and the victim's clothes were even..."

Renato felt a piece click, he pulled up the transporter logs, comparing to the autopsy report, cross referenced to the forensics on the fibers in the clothes to reveal at that point in time another crazy leap. The passages he recalled "Phasing evident in cellular matrix, indicating recent transporter activity," "Genetic Trisomer degradation not within given norms for species at subject's age" were highlighted.

"Paul... is it possible to use the transporter to clone yourself?"

Paul's eyebrows lifted. "Transporter science is outside my area of expertise--but I do recall reading of a case involving Admiral James Kirk when he was captain of the Enterprise. It involved a transporter mishap caused by--some kind of ore, I think. The psychologically interesting aspect of the case was that the transporter somehow divided him into--you might say--his id and his superego, the best and worst qualities of his personality. He was somehow cloned physically--but weakened--and divided morally. I would frankly consider the story neurologically ridiculous if it weren't in the ship's logs of the time."

It was time to ask, so he did, "Gods, you are right, if that is the case, we can have multiples, and they could have mental aberrations! The things they are saying... could they be part of a pattern as well?"

He was talking in a clip, mania returning to him as he let his imagination number crunch. He stood and began to pace, touching Paul's things unconsciously in a grounding exercise. "Paul, if you can indulge me, I need those records, and I think if we speak to his ex-wife she will reveal all we need to know. You are the only one I can talk to, so if you can just ask her about Theo's work, see if we can find anything to support this hypothesis, I know there is a deeper connection!"

Paul could feel himself burning to pursue the mystery with the speed of a racehorse on cordrazine. He strengthened his mental barriers until he couldn't feel anything from Renato--who wasn't--quite--bouncing off the walls like a crazed cat. "I hear you saying that you fervently want to solve this case and that you want to pursue Boule's wife as a lead, and that you would like my help in contacting her. I will talk to Li Kainon and ask him to deputize you or otherwise permit you to work in an advisory capacity on the case," he said. Slowly, carefully, Paul weakened his shields again. "Everything pertaining to this murder is happening in his jurisdiction. It will not sit well with him if I go over his head and investigate this case with you independently. We have worked too hard to rebuild trust between Brown Sector and Starfleet. What trust exists right now is fragile. We have to work with them.

"I am more than willing to recommend you to Kainon and Radak. You have a brilliant mind, and you've been trained in investigative techniques--probably better than Kainon has been. You would be an asset to his people, and they could learn much from you. But for them to want to work with you, Renato, for them to trust you, it is vital that you learn to calm down. They have to be able to imagine you as their partner, as a part of their team, as someone they can depend on when there's trouble. Do you remember the breathing exercises I taught you?"

Nodding to the affirmative Renato employed them. Once cynical on the topic of measured breathing the science was indelible, and evidence more than mere anecdotal. He felt the mania and its cousin madness retreat.

"Yes, thank you. I feel better knowing I am heard I think. We need the full autopsy notes, to confirm transporter activity. We should speak with his ex-wife, try to locate where he relocated to and follow the trail. However we decide is best of course."

He left out the odd note scribbled in silver. Though it had lead him to Theo's hiding spot, too many strange things would spoil the balance they had struck.

-End-

 

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