Deadman

I emerged from the Khan’s temporary quarters an hour later. My guns were cleaner than they’d ever been, and the Khan himself followed behind me with a healthy color restored to his face and strength back in his movements. It would likely take him much longer to fully recover, but I saw the value in his subterfuge when I saw his men stand straighter, as if their spines suddenly gained the support of steel bars. The Khan himself approached one of his honor guard.

“Accept any of Donovan’s instructions as if they were my own. I must speak with Atlan.”

The guard gave a deep respectful nod, and turned his attention to me, the cogwheel jewelry he wore jangling a bit as he moved, his body nearly black with tattoos representing honors among the Horde.

“All of the men and women involved in the attack in which the Khan was injured. I need to speak with them.”

I expected a bit of pushback or some additional questions, in the past the Khan’s men had difficulty showing me the respect he expected them to, but this time no such thing happened. The guard moved to another set of guards, then another, and before I knew it people were being assembled for me to speak with.

I cleared out one of the smaller Medina buildings, one that must’ve been some prostitute’s hovel based on the decorations and unfortunate smells, and started calling them in one at a time. My questions were simple. “What happened?” and “Did you attempt to kill the Khan?” All while my Lie Detector Ability was active, and I scanned their Jobs.

The first person I called in was a woman. She had a fresh tattoo on her arm, the scent of blood and ink providing a welcome retrieve from the smells of the room I was in. She had a hard look in her eyes as she saw me.

I didn’t bother with smalltalk. “In the attack in which the Khan was injured, what did you see?”

“We attacked, crushed many of them beneath our treads or tore through them with our guns, the Khan led us twice, doing us great honor both times. As he retreated the second time though…” She paused, choking up a bit. “Five, maybe seven cars broke formation and fired near his location… He was hurt, we circled him while the enemy pushed to make sure he died, circling like vultures. We retreated, and lost many cars.”

TRUTH

“Did you attempt to kill the Khan?”

She stood and spat at my feet.

“Answer the question,” I said, meeting her angry glare with neutrality.

“No. I would NEVER!”

TRUTH

I nodded. “Get out and send in the next one.”

She bristled for a moment, but showed herself out without raising any more of a fuss.

With each interview, the picture began to grow clearer. They mustered and attacked as they always did. The Khan led the way on the first pass, then the third, and on that third pass a group of about seven vehicles broke formation and started firing in the direction of the Khan as He went to begin passing back toward safety. From there it was confusion, death, and a rapid retreat.

When I got to those men and women who were in that group of seven, the story was much the same, but in their eyes the mistakes were everyone else's. They’d heard someone yell the order to change formation and fire, and had followed them to the letter. They’d seen the Khan’s vehicle and aimed away from it, and around it, as they’d trained to do.

“And what did this voice sound like?” I asked.

The man shrugged. “Dunno, a man.”

“Did he sound like he was from Fette? Have a Kaijin accent? A STAR’s drawl?

“Fette. Definitely wouldn’t have been able to hear anyone else over the engines, and damned sure wouldn’t have listened to anyone from fucking STAR.”

“And you don’t know for sure who it was?”

“Nope.”

TRUTH

I sighed. It had been the same story with all the others that had heard the voice.

“I would never attack the Khan on purpose.”

I looked at him.

“The idea that one of us could have done this… we would never bring harm to him on purpose. You have to believe that.”

TRUTH

I nodded, I didn’t believe that the Khan’s people would fire on him without reason. He was too beloved or feared for most to consider it. That didn’t mean that there wasn’t a reason to investigate though, there were always possibilities of betrayals or lies, or any miscommunications and all of those things could’ve happened independently or through outside interference, I had to determine what the case was either way.

Not a single man or woman was noted as lying by my ability, and all of them had professions like Soldier, Mechanic, or in one case Farmer, nothing that would allow them to avoid my Lie Detector Ability. When the stream of people ended, I left my makeshift interrogation room, and approached the member of the honor guard the Khan had assigned to me.

“Was this everyone?’ I asked.

He nodded. “Everyone who didn’t die during the attack or siege.”

I nodded, I’d asked the same question of those who I’d interviewed to make sure no-one had avoided questioning, and they all stated that everyone living was in the queue waiting to speak with me.

I stood there, thinking. The voice was the key, whoever had given the order was the person I needed to talk to, but no one had given the order, at least not according to my lie detector. That wasn’t the end all be all though, I already knew that it had several weaknesses. Agents like Leah could ignore it, as could I with my Marshal abilities. Some individuals with strange physical readings were also difficult for the ability to read, like Graves and the First. I needed to look into other avenues.

I looked back to the guard. “The bullet, the one that struck the Khan. Has what’s left of it been saved?” I asked.

He looked taken aback. “I’d have to ask.”

I nodded. “Do that, and then round everyone up again along with all of their guns.” If I could narrow down who had fired the shot that actually struck the Khan, it may help to narrow my search, or even find the exact culprit. Perhaps someone had used the cover of a false order to make their play to kill the Khan themselves. Even if the exercise proved fruitless, it may create enough pressure to flush something out.

After a few moments the Guard returned. “The bullet was preserved, it was found lodged in the Khan’s car, and placed next to the tool that removed it during repair and the men and their guns are being assembled again.” He paused. “Can I ask…”

“I want to see if we can figure out which gun harmed the Khan by matching the bullet to the gun it came from.”

The guard looked surprised. “I’ve never heard of any such thing, that’s something you can do?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Absolutely not. I’m not even sure if it’s possible. If it is though, I know who would be able to do it.

…

Bill, who I’d never known to be phased by anything, was maintaining that streak behind a neutral, almost bored expression as he was escorted into Medina by several of the Khan’s personal guards. Bill’s nephew, who now that I wasn’t in Murphy’s I had no name for, looked some mixture of excited and scared, neither reaction I could blame him for. Bill stepped out of the vehicle slowly and carefully, as if it was just another day, and then walked at an even pace toward where I was waiting for him. His nephew leapt out of his seat so quickly he nearly tripped, and began a kind of stuttering stop/start as he caught up with his uncle, but clearly felt like he needed to be walking behind him, and so forced himself to stop moving, then sped back up the second he could.

When Bill reached me he didn’t bother with any hellos or acknowledgements, he just said. “I don’t like to be away from my shop.”

“Sorry Bill. Did they offer to pay you like I asked?”

He nodded. “We haggled.”

One of the Khan’s honor guard shook his head with a look of shame on his face. “I’ll never get those points back.” I heard him mutter.

“What uh, what did you need us for?” asked Bill’s nephew.

“Let’s say that I gave you a bullet that was fired from a gun. Would you be able to determine what gun fired it? If you had access to it?”

Bill’s nephew spoke first. “I uh… I’m not sure.”

Bill rubbed the stubble on his face for a moment, took his dark glasses off and polished them with his shirt sleeve for a moment. “Show me the goods.”