Fracture - A Window Overlooking the Universe by Aidan Grave

Author:Aidan Grave
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, suspense, space, time travel

Part Three - Dark Investigations

Chapter Seventeen - Mortality

Fenton stared in terror at the dead body on the table; his body.

'No…no… no.' He shook his head slowly. He was trembling, shaking; shock, fear and panic rushing in; great waves of nausea crashing and breaking in his body, in his mind.

They were all staring at him, measuring his reactions like those of some laboratory rat. No, not all of them: Alizen's face held just the hint of anguish, of concern.

'Any views, Mr Fenton?' From Paize's tone he could have been asking him his thoughts on some complex mathematical equation.

He just stood there, lost. He seized the edge of the table with his hands and shook and shook and shook. His teeth were chattering. He was going to die. He was already dead.

For a moment nobody reacted then Alizen grabbed a hypodermic from the table and dashed to him. She seized his left arm to steady him before plunging the needle into his neck. More happy stuff flooded his system. The shaking stopped. But he was so cold. His legs were rubbery, glutinous, folding under him. Alizen gently helped him down onto the floor. Her hands were cool and soft.

'For God's sake, Darvad,' she spat angrily. He was sitting on the floor now, her arm round his shoulders. He could feel the sweet warmth of her body.

'Dr Retta, may I remind you that you are a member of my team, a probationary member? I've already had cause to reprimand you once for letting sentiment cloud your judgement. It must not happen again. All of our lives could depend on it, including Mr Fenton's; and Dr Dezlin's.'

'Leave her alone!' snapped Fenton instinctively, furious, trying to stand but collapsing back onto the floor. She caught him, helped him to sit upright again but now the touch was clinical, professional. Then she withdrew, returning silently and sullenly to her master's side.

He sat there alone and cold and abandoned for what seemed an eternity until he could find the strength and courage to raise his head to face them. He was going to die. Here. Soon.

'How?' he demanded.

'Shot,' said Dr Bainz simply, 'from behind. Point blank. The muzzle of the gun must have been pressed right up against the base of the cranium, the occipital bone, just under the occipital crest, there's a tell-tale burn on the skin at the ingress point and there's bruising. Death would have been instantaneous. The gun, I'm afraid, is a complete mystery. We haven't found the weapon or the bullet but the entry and exit points indicate an unusual calibre. The muzzle flash at that range leaves a chemical trace around the burn. It should be easy to identify the weapon by that. But this one's like nothing I've seen before. Central tried to match it for me before we lost contact. They drew a blank. Their only guess was it might be an antique weapon.'

'Graeme was very interested in guns,' Fenton spoke slowly, in a daze, almost drifting into a dream.

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