Sally lowered her camera. She was exploring a thought that had been bugging her for a long time, from way before she had come to the station. It seemed insignificant, but she needed to air it and get it out of her system. ‘Everything we humans touch, we break. Put it this way — we don’t play well with others. Surely venturing into space is just going to give us more opportunity to ruin things on an inter-planetary scale.’
Mikhail chuckled, which annoyed Sally.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Mikhail said, ‘but you sound like you’re talking about an adolescent.’
At first Sally was going to tell Mikhail what a ridiculous notion that was, but when she thought about it, it made surprising sense. ‘I suppose I pretty much am. An adolescent species that doesn’t care if what it does affects others, destroys eco-systems and pollutes on a global scale.’
‘But how does an adolescent learn? By being locked in at home, away from everything? Or out in the big, wide world?’
Sally knew the answer, but was too stubborn to say it.
‘Mankind needs room to grow, to learn,’ Mikhail continued, ‘to become wiser. Sure, it might break a few things on the way, but soon enough, it will understand. And when it does, it will become greater than you can ever imagine.’
‘How do you know this?’
‘I’ve seen it.’
‘So why can’t whoever has opened this doorway just tell us how to grow up?’
Mikhail laughed again, but this time Sally didn’t get annoyed. She could see there was no ridicule in his humour.
‘Have you ever tried to tell an adolescent what to do?’
Sally tittered. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘But you can always give them a push in the right direction.’
‘Is that why you’re helping me?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘How much more will you help me?’
‘Enough. Just enough.’
Chapter 24
‘Like I said in the notes, detective, we found traces of skin on the knuckles of the deceased’s right hand.’
Banin sighed. He hated dealing with these white-coated nerds. ‘Why have you only found it now?’
‘Look, we only get a short amount of time to look over a body. We didn’t find anything, he goes to the morgue. But then we get a phone call from head office telling us to have another look, so we do.’
And Banin had to somehow pin it to this Aleks Dezhurov person, whoever he was. Fingers crossed it would be his skin on the corpse’s fist. ‘Have you got a match yet?’
‘I wish it were that simple, detective. We’re running a sample through the database now. We could get an answer in a week or we could get one today. Or not at all. It’s pot luck.’
‘Fine, whatever. Just let me know when you get a match.’
‘I will.’
Banin mumbled his thanks and left the room. As he climbed the stairs out of the basement — which smelled like hospitals — back up to his office, his mind whirled with questions, mainly: why me?
‘Abram,’ he said as he passed his junior’s desk, ‘go door-to-door to all the bars within five miles of the Ryumin crash and check if there was a brawl on the night of his death.’
‘Yessir,’ Abram said.
‘And Abram?’
‘Yes sir?’
‘Do it quickly.’
Abram grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and left immediately. It made Banin smile to know that at least it wouldn’t be him getting a soaking this time. He flumped into his chair, and as soon as he did, his phone rang.
‘Banin.’
‘The results have just come through for the DNA search.’
‘Really?’
‘I said it was pot luck, and you got lucky.’
‘Okay, shoot.’ Please be Aleks, please be Aleks.
‘Well, that’s the sticking point. I can’t tell you.’
‘I thought you said you’d got a match?’
‘I did. But it’s classified.’
‘Classified?’
‘Yes. US Department of Defence level one. That’s their top clearance level.’
‘Holy shit… alright, thanks,’ Banin said, and hung up. He lifted the receiver again and dialled the Chief’s extension. His secretary answered.
‘Hello, Chief Inspector Azurov’s office, how may I help you?’
‘It’s Banin. Can you put me through, please?’
‘Sure thing. But I don’t know why you don’t just come in person. We’re only the floor up from you.’
‘I have a hernia,’ Banin lied.
‘For fifteen years?’
‘Just put me through.’
‘No need to be a grumpy so-and-so. I’ll put you through now.’
Thank goodness, Banin thought.
‘Azurov.’
‘It’s Banin.’
‘Banin — why don’t you just come up here instead of calling me?’
‘I get that a lot. I have a hernia.’
‘No you don’t. What can I do for you?’
‘Forensics matched the DNA.’
‘To who?’
‘Don’t know. Classified. US Department of Defence.’
‘Shit, really?’
‘Really.’
‘Shit.’
‘I know.’
Azurov sighed. ‘Okay, let’s get this mess sorted,’ he said. ‘Give the US embassy a call and get this one out the door before it blows up in our faces.’
‘I’d be glad to.’
‘See that you are.’
Banin put the phone down, then picked it up again and dialled another number. The phone rang for a while, then the dial tone changed and it rang a while longer.
‘US embassy, good morning,’ a cheery voice said.
‘Hello,’ Banin said in his best English. ‘I’m calling from the Moscow City Police. We have a case that I think you might be interested in.’
The conversation didn’t go as well as he’d hoped. After a lot of waiting, transfers and more waiting, the embassy decided that the US government would neither take ownership of the case, nor reveal state secrets and identify the classified DNA, which meant he was stuck. With any luck, Abram would call with some good news. Four hours later, following a fruitless desk search for Aleks Dezhurov’s latest whereabouts, Abram did call.
‘Banin.’
‘Hi, sir, it’s Abram — I’ve got something here you should probably take a look at.’
‘On my way.’
Sally couldn’t sleep. Her mind whirled with thought, about Mikhail, about John Heisenberg — god, the last time she’d seen him seemed a lifetime ago, even if it was just a few months back. She felt as though her brain couldn’t shut off until she’d made sense of everything, but for some reason, she couldn’t. She shifted in her floating sleeping bag, trying to find a spot that would let her release her conscious and drift off, but no matter which way she turned, her brain would not shut up.
Wriggling from the cotton cocoon, she pulled on a vest and shorts and climbed out of her quarters. The lights were dim, and she paddled herself in the direction of something to eat. A hot chocolate, too. As she passed Mikhail’s quarters, she heard a sound that made her skin prickle. It was a low gurgle, a glottal noise that seemed almost inhuman. It was coming from inside, and she waited, listening. The noises didn’t stop so, hesitantly at first, she unzipped the door. Inside, Mikhail had knitted himself into a tight ball of limbs, and his face was contorted with agony. He writhed without warning, and Sally jumped, backing away from him as he thrashed in his sleep. She could hear his teeth grinding together, and that noise, that horrible, throaty noise continued to seep from his mouth. Summoning all her nerve, she grabbed him and shook him hard.