Chapter 1

Twenty hours earlier

The trade exposition had been running for two days now, to great success. The ground floor of the Commercial Complex was filled with stalls displaying all sorts of technological marvels as well as salespeople zealously talking up their business ideas.

Brown, arms rigidly at his sides, slowly paced the bustling alleys between stalls, partly on a security patrol and partly out of curiosity. There was a wide variety of aliens present, some of which he had never seen before, all hawking their wares like there was no tomorrow.

There was an enthusiastic Tarkalean man showing off a pair of multi-spectrum goggles, which allowed the wearer to see all kinds of light. Another stall had a black-and-white-striped Dedderac woman hovering over everyone in what she called 'levitation boots.' Next to her, a diminutive, golden Ithenite easily lifted a cargo container twice his size using a device clamped to the side which nullified the container's weight.

At yet another stall, a youthful, pale blue Andorian with thick, rear-mounted antennae - different from those of his species that Brown was familiar with - claimed that laser weaponry was going to make a comeback, and better than ever, but his prototype pistol completely failed to even singe the paper targets he tested it on. It was, the Andorian asserted, still a work in progress.

Brown stopped at a vendor who had attracted a small crowd with his showmanship. He was a tall, gangly Human with unkempt hair and dishevelled clothes, gesticulating wildly. He seemed, to Brown, like a cross between a carnival barker and a mad scientist.

"Gentlebeings, gentlebeings!" the vendor called out. "Gather 'round to witness the future!"

How can I resist that offer? Brown thought with a smirk. He noted the base's resident busybody, Supervisor Grum, pushing his way to the front of the crowd, also taken in by the display.

The showman continued his act. "We all know what an amazing boon the creation of the transporter was. Letting us travel from one place to another in the blink of an eye!" He waved his hands around dramatically. "But it has one tiny hindrance… It requires the use of a materialisation/dematerialisation pad. Wouldn't it be much easier if we could just transport directly from A to B without having to rely on the intermediate platform?"

The rest of the crowd wasn't biting, but Grum took the bait.

"You've solved this, have you?" the Tellarite asked skeptically, his arms folded.

The showman, undeterred by Grum's disbelief, grinned and pointed at his doubter. "Indeed I have, my short fellow!" He addressed the rest of his audience again. "I, Maximilian Crowne-Chambers, have invented the site-to-site transporter!"

With a flourish, this Crowne-Chambers (even his name was showy) whipped off a sheet covering two small pedestals. On one of them was an apple with a coin-sized circular device attached to it.

Crowne-Chambers took position between the pedestals and pointed to the device. "With the STST, we can program a location into its control padd…" He produced said padd and typed into it. "And be there instantly, saving so much time."

Brown, along with everyone else, watched with baited breath as Crowne-Chambers activated the padd. The apple began to disappear in a swirl of light. Almost comically, everyone's heads turned in unison to see the fruit reappear on the other pedestal.

There was some polite applause, and Crowne-Chambers took a bow, then held up a hand for silence.

"Thank you, thank you," he said. "This is, of course, just an early prototype. Only capable of transporting small objects over very short-range. That's why I'm here today, looking for investors to fund the rest of my research. You could help build the world of tomorrow!"

Brown chuckled quietly. The man would be equally suited to selling used hovercars.

Grum spoke up. "As a representative of the Tellar Space Administration, I can say that my organisation might be interested in this project." He was cleared as awed as the rest of them, but was giving nothing away.

Crowne-Chambers clapped Grum on the shoulder. "Well then, my bearded friend, perhaps we can talk business…"

"Where is the pattern buffer?" asked another voice in the crowd.

Brown turned to the voice's source; a curvaceous redhead from a species he didn't recognise. Her hair was long, flowing, but did not conceal a series of leopard-like markings on the sides of her head and neck. Brown found himself wondering just how far they went down, but that answer was kept from him by a form-fitting scarlet bodysuit which left little else to the imagination.

"Surely it can't fit into that little device," the woman continued. "And how do you keep the annular confinement beam stable without an external anchor point?"

The crowd turned back to Crowne-Chambers, but he just smiled.

"Ah, a magician never reveals his secrets, my dear. Can't have everyone stealing my ideas now, can I?"

He went back to talking with Grum, ignoring the woman's questions. Satisfied that the show was over, the crowd began to dissipate.

Just in time too, as there was a new, larger crowd forming before the main stage at the rear of the floor.

A young, dark-haired man in a trendy suit had taken centre stage. "If I could have everyone's attention please," he said, his voice artificially amplified. Once he had the majority of the room's focus, he continued. "Please allow me to introduce Reena Bird, Executive Director of Abramson Industries."

Abramson Industries was the company responsible for the expo. Their reclusive CEO, Willem Abramson, had proposed the idea to foster cooperation and ingenuity, as well as provide potential investments for himself. As he was rarely seen in public, Abramson left the running of his corporation to Reena Bird, who had become the face of AI. Brown had done a little reading up on the corporation during his long, uneventful hours.

The crowd applauded as Bird, a handsome, middle-aged woman with blonde hair in a severe bun, now took the stage with a bright smile.

"On behalf of Willem Abramson," she started, speaking clearly and eloquently, "thank you all for coming. We've seen some interesting ideas over the past few days, and I'm sure you will each find someone willing to help you succeed in your endeavours.

"As I'm sure you all know, it is part of my job to present Mr. Abramson with new enterprises to invest in."

Brown listened to the murmuring throughout the crowd. This had been the big pull of the expo - the chance to have Abramson Industries fund your project.

Bird continued. "While I'd like to recommend all of you, I know Mr. Abramson's tastes and will be making my selections based on certain factors that he will approve of. Factors such as benefits to sentient life, longevity, and ethical considerations.

"Some of you will be invited to interview with me this evening for further details on your proposals. I shall be announcing the lucky investees tomorrow, for the last day of the exposition.

"Whether you are selected or not, I wish you all well. Some of the innovations I have seen here are remarkable, and, if we maintain our spirit of cooperation, will pave the way for the future. I am glad I was here to see its beginnings."

The audience applauded again as Bird left the stage.

Present

Brown looked down at Reena Bird's body, lying on the floor of her quarters in a pool of her own blood, a fist-sized hole in her chest, and wondered who could have done this to her.

And how.

When Bird hadn't shown up to the expo this morning, her assistant had called for her. Receiving no answer on the comm or at her door, he had called security, who opened her quarters and found her dead inside.

Brown's staff were now going over the guest room with scanners, scrutinising every square millimetre, while Dr. T'Ling examined the body. Commodore North and Colonel Kostopoulos, the MACO commander, also watched on.

"Do you know the cause of death yet, Doctor?" Brown asked the elderly Vulcan.

She looked up from her medical scanner. "Her heart exploded," she said plainly, as if it were nothing.

Brown blinked. "Excuse me?"

"To be more precise, her artificial heart exploded. Ms. Bird was fitted with a cardiac implant four years ago following a shuttle accident, according to her medical record. Said records were transmitted to my department in advance of Ms. Bird's visit, in the event that maintenance was required on the implant. It appears to have ruptured from a sudden outward expulsion of energy."

"My god," Brown whispered. It was a gruesome fate, and he wondered if poor Reena Bird had even known what was happening. Maybe it was better if she hadn't.

Louder, he asked, "Is this common?" Artificial organs were still a relatively new technology; he wasn't quite familiar with their operation, although he couldn't imagine they'd be viable if prone to explosion.

T'Ling confirmed this assumption. "Negative. It would not have malfunctioned so severely on its own, nor from any random influence. A deliberate external action must be responsible."

Hence "murder" and not "accident," thought Brown.

"What sort of 'external action'?" he asked T'Ling.

"That cannot be determined without further analysis," she replied. "I shall conduct a full autopsy myself, as well as an examination of what remains of the implant."

Brown nodded. "Have some of your people analyse the DNA in these quarters too, please."

T'Ling tipped her head in acknowledgement and left to start her work.

Brown sighed and looked down at Bird again. A medic covered her with a white sheet.

"Death by broken heart," he said softly to himself. He did not mean it as levity, however. He was responsible for the safety of everyone on the starbase, and this woman had died under his protection.

All he could do now was bring her killer to justice.

Brown looked around the room. They were typical VIP guest quarters - spacious and located in the main tower, as opposed to the smaller, temporary quarters in a different building. The main door opened into a lounge with kitchenette, and two interior doors led to a bedroom and bathroom.

He noted that the floor-to-ceiling window had been tinted black, a feature included to obscure the glare of Berengaria's two suns. It could indicate that Bird had been killed before sunsdown, although she could also have been paranoid about corporate spies, despite being 59 floors up.

Bird was found lying about a metre from the door. Had she opened it to her killer? Had she been trying to flee? There were many questions to be answered, and lots of work to do.

He had better get started.

Brown turned to North. "Commodore, I strongly suggest we lock down the base: No one in or out until we solve this. There's a killer here, and we can't let them escape."

North's expression tensed, but he nodded. "Very well, Commander."

"We'll also have to check the departure logs, see if anyone left around the time of the murder," Brown added. "Once Doctor T'Ling establishes time of death."

"I shall leave that in your hands," said North. "You and the Colonel's, anyway." He turned to Kostopoulos. "I want the two of you to work together on this. The murderer is most likely a civilian - at least, I hope so. While the crime was committed on a Starfleet facility, we cannot officially arrest a civilian, so a MACO shall have to be present throughout the investigation. With so many species and companies involved, we have to do things as properly as possible."

"Yes, sir," Kostopoulos said, giving Brown a quick, inscrutable glance.

Brown didn't partake in any of the rivalry between Starfleet and the MACO, but he would have preferred to conduct the investigation alone, as he was accustomed to from his career on Mars. But he knew he couldn't argue the Commodore's point.

"Aye, sir," he said.

He looked back at the sheet-covered body.

"We'll find whoever did this," he promised.