Talk to Doctor

The embassy doctor—a short, fireplug of a man named Cortez—has already examined Umesh’s remains. At your request, he sends over his findings.



A frown settles on your face as you read the report. “Cortez,” you say, walking over to the doctor. “Do you have an estimated time of death?”

“Seven hours ago. Oh-three-hundred . . . ish.”

The dead of night, when the station and its inhabitants were at its lowest ebb. The perfect time to commit a murder. “Can you get anything off Umesh’s implants? He must have seen something of his attacker. Even a sound would help.”

The doctor shakes his head. “It’ll have to wait until the autopsy. All the leades got smashed during the attack.”

Unfortunate, but not unexpected. One of the lines from the doctor’s report is bothering you. There’s something to it. “You said . . . yeah, you said no abrasions. Why? What does that mean?”

Cortez gets a funny look. He glances at the Jelly by Tschetter and lowers his voice. “It means that whatever grabbed Umesh was soft, not hard.”

Like a tentacle. “I see.” And given the force that the technician had been thrown into the wall, no unaugmented human would have been capable of such a thing. Not even one of the gene-hacked colonists from Shin-Zar was that strong. But the Jellies sure were.