I braced myself as the Great Investigator launched himself at me. His flapping jowls smelled of slightly old meat as he reared up and ran his broad, black nose up and down my body. I almost regretted that I had taken off my air-conditioned environment suit—Baskur left traces of saliva all over my under-robe and billowing trousers, face, arms, and even my mustache.
“You have been in Alpha Ganston recently, I perceive,” he said, through the translation charm on the collar about his neck. “Mmm! I love the smell of Alpha Ganston!” He sniffed ardently, circling around and around my shoes on all fours.
“Yes, I know,” I said. I had been advised to immerse myself in complex odors in preparation for the meeting with Baskur. Call it a currency, if you will. I needed his assistance. No one else, I had been reliably informed, would be able to disentangle the bizarre circumstances that had been transmitted to me while I returned from my last assignment. I was lucky that I had not yet laundered the last outfit I wore on my previous visit to the well-forested tropical outpost on the second planet that circled our star. Panettiere, the fourth planet, upon which I now stood, was cooler, with a humid atmosphere that had evolved the Norridings. They communicated largely by scent, but Baskur had gained a reputation for uncovering hidden truths that was known far beyond our system.
After a time, Baskur retreated a pace or so away from me and sat down upon the broad oval floor cushion. A long, narrow, purple tongue like a snake darted out of his mouth and laved his face, so as not to lose even a particle of the scents he had just vacuumed off me. That visage, covered as it was with short, golden-brown fur, made me think irresistibly of a basset hound, but with even more intelligent eyes.
“And to what do I owe this delectable treat, middle-aged male visitor of human extraction?” he asked, as three smaller Norridings, similar in build and coloration to Baskur, brought bowls of clean water to both of us.
“My name’s Shoqan al-Hamish ibn Malik,” I said, bowing deeply over the broad krater. “There’s been a difficult situation, and I have been directed to ask you for help.”
He scratched his right ear vigorously with a rear claw. “Why not call it what it is?” he asked. “You call it murder.”
I admit that I goggled, nearly dropping the water. “How would you know that?”
“In the same way I know you to be a journalist,” he said, fixing me with those warm brown eyes. “You have never visited me before. Most of those who seek me are upset. Not only are you not upset, you had the presence of mind to bring me a form of payment in advance, odors of an interesting place. I sense that you live on Thumberlia, our chilly fifth planet, and have recently come all the way from the Oort cloud surrounding our system, yet your news concerns yet a third world in our system. Therefore you are not personally involved in the matter. You are curious, but not on your own behalf. I am intrigued. Nay, fascinated. More fascinated than I have been in some time.”
I felt hope rise in my heart. “Then you will come with me to Al-Boeme?”
“No,” Baskur said, settling down with his paws crossed before him like a sphinx. “Have they not told you I’m retired? I don’t go out on cases any longer. I prefer to remain among my own kind.”
“But a man was murdered!” I exclaimed, dropping to my knees on the guest cushion and setting the bowl aside. “Prunli of Cinque Narangova, the ambassador from a planet of five large continents that circles an orange sun eight light years from here, was found dead in his chambers in the capital city on Al-Boeme.” I named our third planet from the sun, the chief of the satellites circling Dayel and the center of government for the system.
“Humans die all the time.” Baskur lifted a paw. “It is an ordinary occurrence.”
“But there are no clues to this murder,” I said. “None at all.”
At last I saw a hint of interest on his mobile face.
“No clues? I am sure there are surveillance cameras, communication records, trace evidence, and eyewitnesses who can help the authorities to determine the perpetrator.”
“None at all,” I said. “Captain Boycott, my source on Al-Boeme, said that the electronic surveillance was turned off and all records from the hour involved were wiped irretrievably. The room was swept clean and sanitized before anyone realized that there was a body concealed within. Prunli was alone when he died, and the door locked with his own code. Captain Boycott immediately put the room into stasis. Knowing I was coming to Panettiere, she asked me to request your help. Please come. I have a ship waiting.” I gestured toward the exit. “Sir, the circumstances are mysterious, and the matter is a vital one. Cinque Narangova has become a valuable trading partner with Dayel in recent years. Prunli’s murder could jeopardize that.”
“Most interesting,” Baskur said. He shook his great head, and his jowls flapped. “It is not the victim who interests you. No, Boycott is someone you’re very fond of. An old romance, one that ended amicably. No!” He got up and circled me again. “Ah, those Ganston aromas! Yes, I sense Al-Boeme, but from long, long ago. The odor of violets is pervasive. Thank you for letting me absorb the scents.”
“The worker is worthy of the fee,” I said, with another polite nod.
“A parlor trick.” Baskur laughed, a snorting, snuffling noise. He studied me for a long while with a curious look on his long face, then held up a paw. “Come closer. I have not yet taken my fee.”
Curious, I moved nearer to the Great Investigator. Baskur turned his broad muzzle up to my hand. I held it out for him to sniff.
SNAP! He clamped his jaws upon my hand.
“Ow!” I felt his teeth pierce my skin. Baskur opened his jaws and drew back. I clasped my hand to my chest. It throbbed and dripped blood onto the carpeted floor. Another of the Norridings darted forward with a roll of white bandage. Reluctantly, I allowed her to stanch the bleeding.
“I perceive that you’ve been the recipient of many a worthwhile fee yourself,” Baskur said, his tongue darting out to clear all my blood from his face. “Your system is rich with particles from many a distant world, ones you have absorbed as well as those that you have consumed. In time I will identify all of them. You are married or attached to a female of your species. I sense that you also have offspring. Three, I believe. Two of the same gender as yourself, and one indeterminate.”
“But how would you know that?” I asked, astounded by his accuracy. “None of them have been with me since before I landed on Alpha Ganston.”
“With your physical relationships, there is an exchange of microbes and cells,” Baskur said. He shook his head vigorously and his jowls flapped noisily. “You retain traces of everyone with whom you have had contact. Even airborne particles become part of your physical self. The female has not had frequent contact with you of late. I perceive this by the weak concentration of her cells in your body. Yet there are three distinct clusters of cells that share traits with her and also with you. Hence, three children. You may of course have others with whom you are not in contact.”
He had precisely pinpointed the relationship between me and my current mate. We were in the last months of our second ten-year contract. The marriage had broken down irretrievably years before and was due to end, but I shared custody of my beloved children.
“Remarkable! You can tell that people are related by the combination of cells in their bodies? Are you able to distinguish generations? You can perceive my brother, or my father, and how often we have come into contact with one another?”
“Oh, yes,” Baskur said.
“Astounding,” I said. “My assignments never brought me to Panettiere before. What an amazing species you Norridings are. But humans frequently change partners and have offspring with more than one. We come into casual contact with many others of our kind, and with other species. Don’t they blur after a while?”
The Great Investigator flapped his jowls once again. “That is one of the reasons that I have retired. Everyone is becoming too homogenous, including my people with yours. Now that I have consumed some of your cells, you’re part of me, too. And I of you. But it means I am less of myself and more of everyone whom I have ever touched or smelled. To maintain my individuality, I need to remain apart from contact with other beings and not gather further artifacts within my person. But you have intrigued me with your tale, middle-aged human journalist. For your sake, I will break my self-imposed exile. A true locked room mystery! It will be my last and greatest case. Let us go to the scene of the crime.”
The transit within the system took a matter of hours, half of it accelerating to a near-light speed and the other half decelerating. Most of that time the Great Investigator spent rolling around on a mat of irregular, long-pile carpeting that his three assistants installed in the cabin. He was, they confided, a bit addicted to shag. Although the rubbery backing of the mat sent horrible odors circulating through the ventilation system of my fleet craft, I felt it was a small price to pay for obtaining Baskur’s services.
As a reporter for the popular news media, I was eager to observe him in action, though my chief motivation was to protect my contact. As Baskur had deduced, Ariana Boycott was a dear friend, one with whom I had once been very close. We had nearly joined our lives together.
After our affair ended, Ariana had become involved with Prunli. At the time, he had been an attaché to the previous envoy. Their relationship had been stormy. I worried how deeply she was involved. Could she be responsible for his death? The clues had been destroyed. Calling in an outside authority made it seem as though all she sought was the truth, when the action might be a cynical blind.
I caught Baskur’s eyes upon me. He flipped upright.
“It would be daring if she asked you to bring me if she was in fact guilty,” he said.
I flicked my fingers. “I see too many vids to think that isn’t possible, but I hope—I pray—that it isn’t so.” Then I blinked. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
“Because it was all over your face,” Baskur said, with a growl that sounded like a chuckle. “I hope the case is not as easy to solve. Otherwise, I would rather have stayed at home.”
When we arrived at Security Headquarters in Al-Boeme’s capital city of Prak, Captain Ariana Boycott was waiting upon the landing strip, clad in the narrow, floor-length blue coat and hat of her rank. She looked as cool and beautiful as she had the last time we had been together, five years before. Her thick auburn hair was all but hidden beneath the tall hat, but the warm, honey-colored complexion and deep green eyes like tourmalines gladdened the eye. My heart pounded in my chest, something that I fancied was not lost upon my companion. An entourage of fifteen officers, both human and android, surrounded her. Its size indicated that she had grown considerably in importance since the last time we had seen one another. Our eyes met. She smiled, and my heart pounded more strongly. She still had the power to move my soul.
As he had with me, Baskur snuffled her all over. She spread her arms out and waited patiently for him to complete his examination.
“I’m grateful that you came, sir,” Ariana said. She gestured to the waiting throng. “This is my staff. Each of them has either examined the hotel room or been instrumental in preserving evidence. Besides these, there’s the hotel staff, the ambassador’s own aides, and fourteen members of other diplomatic services who had several meetings with Prunli during the three days before his death.”
“So many?” the Great Investigator asked, regarding them with dismay. “Ah, well.” He leaped up onto every one of the police escort in turn, giving them the thorough going-over that he had me, though I noticed that he was getting more nervous all the time. His long, whiplike tail switched back and forth.
“We must proceed to the location,” he said. “Quickly! I do not want to make contact with more particles than is absolutely necessary.”
Boycott nodded. We exchanged no more than the briefest glance before escorting Baskur into a waiting hovervan marked with police livery. The Great Investigator and I, along with his minions, occupied a spotlessly clean compartment alone.
The city of Prak had changed little since my last assignment there, except to grow in size. The buildings all seemed to be part of a grand design, ornate and beautiful as well as functional. Small details struck the eye as we passed them. I turned often to mention them to my traveling companion, but found him deep in thought.
The rooftop of the pink stucco Grand Hotel Al-Boeme was empty when we set down. I fancy that Captain Boycott had seen to it that we made contact with no one else, as per the Great Investigator’s wishes. From there, she led us into a mirror-walled turbovator encrusted with gold scrolls and cherub’s heads. We descended only one floor. It made sense that the ambassador had occupied a penthouse suite.
“Nothing has been disturbed since we found him,” Ariana said, leading us through an opulent and quiet corridor. “Once our evidence drones found there were no traces, we sealed the room.”
“In hopes of attracting my attention,” Baskur said, with an amused glance. “You must have been very confident that I would come.”
“Hopeful, that is all,” Ariana said. “You must understand that we want to avoid an interstellar incident.”
A featureless, all-gray android waited outside the door of the suite. Boycott presented her credentials. A slot popped open in the android’s chest cavity to accept the card. The mechanical placed one manipulative extremity against the wall beside the door. The double portals parted. A rush of air gusted out into our faces. Baskur inhaled deeply.
He turned to the rest of us, then his gaze lighted upon me.
“I know that you are not involved in this matter, and I have your scent stowed,” he said. “Pray accompany me. You persuaded me to come. You may as well see it out.”
“It would be an honor.” I bowed deeply.
The door shut upon the police contingent, leaving us alone in the crime scene. I set my data drone on full record mode and let it float up toward the ceiling of the room. Baskur’s inspection of the chamber would be a treasure for my broadcast channel, providing he allowed me to use any of it.
“What do you see here, human?” Baskur asked.
I scanned the chamber. The body lay as it had been left, on the floor beside a yellow upholstered divan. Now that the stasis lock had been removed, the corpse would begin to decay. I sensed no putrefaction, only bodily functions that normally accompanied the final moment of mortality.
Ambassador Prunli had been a handsome human, although he had begun to gain weight around the belly. He had a square jaw, broad cheekbones, noble forehead—growing more noble by the year, I was pleased to say, as time had plucked more and more of his rich chestnut hair from it—and a sweeping mustache that put my facial adornment to shame. I admit to some satisfaction in seeing that deterioration of a rival, although the rivalry was long in the past. His face bore the expression of surprise. The brutal attack had been swift as well as bloody. As the stasis had kept all things fresh, the bodily fluids remained liquid. Even his eyes still glistened, as though death had occurred only moments before. Cringing at the notion that he might at any moment sit up and speak, I stayed at a distance. The Great Investigator, though, dived onto the corpse and began to sniff from top to toe and back again.
“Most interesting,” he said, gathering in great gulps of air. He tasted the body, the carpet, the surface of the furniture, and even the artwork displayed upon the walls. A bronze statue of a feather in a paneled recess particularly attracted his attention. Now and again he emitted little cries of encouragement to himself. I found it repellent that he could lick a corpse so happily.
“You look as though you enjoy that,” I said.
“I do! Now, please be quiet. I must concentrate.”
He circled around and around the body, gathering up particles of scent and matter with his nose and tongue.
“The scene is not so devoid of clues as we were told,” Baskur said. “If anything, we might thank the cleaner, because it removed a lot of the extraneous material with which we would otherwise have to deal. Instead, I can almost become Ambassador Prunli.” He gave one final sniff to the terrible wounds in the neck and chest, then bit the man’s hand. I cried out.
“Did you have to do that?”
Baskur didn’t answer, engaged as he was in licking the congealing blood from his face, absorbing, as I knew, the essence of the dead man before us.
At that moment, the door to the suite slid open, and Captain Boycott entered with two of her officers at her back.
Baskur looked up at her, his warm brown eyes fixed on her face.
“I love you,” he said.
“What?” she asked, bewildered. “Have you found anything that can help me solve this murder?”
The Great Investigator shook his head vigorously as if to clear it. He let out a deep sigh.
“Yes, Captain, I have. There’s nothing more I can do. I must see all of those who have been with or near the suite before too much time has passed. Quickly!”
“That’s impossible,” she said. “Many of those who passed through here are honored diplomats, all engaged in important trade and peace discussions. I can’t compel them to come and be interrogated.”
“Of course you can! Tell them that there is a scandal brewing that will affect all of Al-Boeme! I can only hold it back if I learn the truth, and swiftly!”
Ariana’s green eyes flicked to me. I nodded. Her mouth twisted in a wry grimace.
“All right, then. I’ll do my best to get them together. Shall we say two hours?”
“Arrange it. Ah, but wait,” he said, as she began to leave. Let your assistants make the calls. Will you remain here for a moment?”
“Certainly,” Ariana said, though she looked puzzled. She signed to her associates, then let the door close. “What is this about?”
“What was your relationship with the victim?”
She shot an uncomfortable glance at me.
“Why, nothing. I hadn’t seen him for several years.”
Baskur let out his grunting laugh.
“Come, come, Captain Boycott. You called me in. You must know what I can do and what I have learned.”
She looked shamefaced at being caught in a lie.
“We were lovers. When he asked to see me, I came out of curiosity. I stayed…out of curiosity.”
“It’s none of my business,” he said, but the expression on his long face said otherwise. For myself, I was trying to control a feeling of unreasonable jealousy. We were no longer together. I had no right. “I’m going back to the ship to wait.”
Once reensconced upon the unspeakable shag carpet, the Great Investigator threw himself back and forth, pondering the evidence. His minions brought him food and water, each of which he spurned impatiently.
“Is there really a scandal?” I asked, watching him toss and turn like a restless sleeper.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “And your friend knows it. That’s why she called me in, instead of relying upon local investigators to uncover it. As for what it is, I won’t know until I examine the witnesses.” He glanced at me. “And you need not worry. She’s as attached to you as you are to her. I don’t need to have sampled her cells to determine that. Pure observation proves it to me. When does your current marriage contract expire? Soon?”
“That’s rather tactless of you, as well as none of your business,” I said, offended and surprised at the same time.
“You’ve made it my business, both of you,” he said, sounding weary. His eyes drooped. “And because you are so attached to her, and I have sampled your cells, so am I. I love her, even though she’s not of my species. But she is of yours. Now, go. I need to think.”
I departed, sputtering in confusion.
• • •
The gathering we joined was a truly distinguished one. I recognized diplomats and envoys from several planets within the Dayel system and from many worlds outside. As Baskur’s temporary chronicler, I was admitted, but not strictly welcomed. While they reclined on cushions and chaises longues, I and several members of the hotel staff were relegated to straight-backed chairs in the corner. At least my drone could rove unrestricted.
Their curiosity about Baskur overwhelmed their indignation and discomfort at being summoned, even more so when he began to examine them.
“Is this really necessary?” demanded Honored Otso of Caledon, a human of indeterminate gender like my youngest child, as Baskur snuffled his way down xir long blue silk dress and paid special attention to the jeweled chains hanging around xir neck and wrists.
“Not only necessary, but vital,” Baskur insisted. He returned to xir face and sniffed it again. He withdrew and allowed his long tongue to cleanse his facial fur of all traces. He moved on to Tik-tik, a tall, narrow-waisted being with a striped coat from Susk. From here, the envoy smelled like honey. I wondered what other traces Baskur discovered among the black and gold fluff.
“Captain, I have to protest,” said Ambassador Eugin of the exoplanet Ni Hao Xiao Mao, a stocky being with smooth white fur that covered his entire body. “None of us is responsible for this foul crime. Of course we are sorry for the death of our colleague, but why are we gathered here?”
Baskur reclined upon the square of smelly carpet that had been removed to here from my ship for his comfort.
“I am reliably informed that Prunli was here to negotiate trade with all of you. His is a minor system with few resources that are unavailable in other places. So, why have so many of you gone to such trouble to visit him not once, but many times over the last few days? Shall we say, perhaps to obtain…personal emoluments that would make you consider him and his system with greater favor?”
“Bribery?” Honored Otso protested. “How dare you! What do you know about the intricacies of interstellar cooperation?” But xe clutched the jeweled chain at xir neck. Baskur followed xir movements with an amused look on his jowly face.
“Yes. I don’t need to know very much about the ins and outs of your practice to know that there were several ancient artifacts on the walls of the ambassador’s suite, artifacts that smelled enough like him for me to determine that they originated on the same world. Many of those are missing now. Many of you,” he said, glancing at those around him, “retain the odor of those empty wall niches, hooks, and drawers in his suite.”
“Well, what of it?” Eugin asked, waving a hand. “He gave us valuable gifts! It’s a common practice in diplomatic circles.”
“More than physical gifts, in many cases,” Baskur said, with significant glances at Honored Otso and Tik-tik. Both of them squirmed, as did Ariana Boycott, standing near the door. “He made love to several of you. But it wasn’t so much what he gave as what he took. Each of you smells of desperation. He commanded your presence again and again, but how? There is no odor or particle, therefore it had to be compulsion. Information. He was blackmailing each of you, wasn’t he? Threatening to publicize each of the illicit gifts and negotiations among you? To reveal that bribery, smuggling, and blackmail are everyday parts of the diplomatic lifestyle?”
“Yes!” Eugin burst out. “He seemed to know everything about us, all of our passwords, our secret trades. Our internet searches. Everything! Our data was supposed to be secured with the latest in microft protocols. He could never have worked out those numbers. How could he have obtained them?”
Baskur smiled. “Only if he had access to the gatekeeper. Most programs have a back door, in case of emergency. It would be easy for a diplomat to convince an ordinary person that such an emergency requiring access existed. His powers of persuasion would not have been lost upon this one.” He leaped from his mat and fixed his teeth into the arm of a young human and dragged xir forward. Xir name, if I recalled it correctly, was Lin. As he had before, Baskur drew blood. Boycott’s officers moved in to surround Lin while the Norriding analyzed the particles and cells he had consumed. Lin tried to leap up and bring down my drone. I steered it back toward me to protect it, while Boycott’s officers dragged xir back into xir chair. “Yes, there is a high concentration of Prunli’s enzymes and cells in your system. Your meetings must have been frequent. Why would you have betrayed your employers in this fashion?”
Lin’s attractive face pulled a sullen expression. “He promised me a place in his entourage. I would be able to leave this planet forever!”
Baskur’s eyes focused upon his prey, and his voice lowered into silken tones. “And when you discovered that you were a pawn? When it turned out that all of his promises were as fleeting as his affections toward you? After all, he took the inspector and others as lovers after he had dismissed you. You meant nothing. Your place in his entourage was a ploy to obtain your assistance.”
Lin sprang to xir feet. “I did everything he asked! I jeopardized my life for him! He took that from me. I had nothing left. Nothing!”
“And you stabbed him through the heart with the bronze statue in his suite,” Baskur said, shaking his head. “Taking his life in your turn. You ordered the suite cleaned, but you still bear traces of the metal’s odor in the pores of your skin. Only you and he had high exposure to that bronze. None of the others touched the murder weapon.”
“No! He stole from me! He made me break my oath of employment.”
Boycott signed to her officers. Lin struggled as they took xir away, with a fierce look over xir shoulder at Baskur.
“May we go?” Otso asked, looking at xir timekeeper. “I have many appointments.”
“As do we,” Tik-tik said.
“Yes, but please keep yourself available for interviews,” Boycott said. “I promise you, none of your personal information will be part of the official transcripts.”
Eugin hesitated after the others had departed, and came to wind himself around Baskur, rubbing his white furry sides against the Norriding.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “I could not have borne one more scandal.” Then, he was gone.
“What was that about?” I asked.
Baskur shook his jowls. “I’m afraid that we will need to provide an amnesty in that direction, my friend. I think that you should erase those last few words from your drone’s memory.”
“I shall,” I promised. When the small craft landed beside me, I entered the necessary command. The crime had been solved. There was no need to embarrass anyone with innuendo. I would not dispatch anything without need.
“Thank you,” Boycott said, crouching down to Baskur’s level. Her eyes shone with admiration. How I wish that expression had been turned upon me! “That was a tour de force, Master Baskur. More than I ever expected. I could not have discovered the truth so quickly.”
“As your Shakespeare said, ‘The cat will mew, and the dog will have his day,’” Baskur said, rising to all fours. “This was mine.” His long purple tongue darted out and touched her face affectionately. “To me, you will always be The Human. I must return now to Panettiere, never to leave again, but you will always be a part of me, Ariana Boycott. I will not forget you.” He turned to me. “Nor you, Shoqan al-Hamish ibn Malik. I would be glad to remain in contact with you, but only by remote communication. I do not wish to lose my identity further. I am becoming too much of—what would you call me in your language?—a human bloodhound?”
“I am sorry,” I said, sincerely rueful. “I didn’t understand what it would cost you.”
He flapped his jowls. “I came with you freely. It was always a risk. I pray that it will all be worthwhile. I will give you some time to say farewell, then I need you to return me to my lonely exile.” He padded off his mat and out of the room, leaving me alone with Ariana. I watched him go with a mixture of admiration and regret.
“I am so grateful that you brought Baskur here, Shoqan,” Ariana said. She seemed hesitant, almost diffident, and she had never looked more lovely to me. “I believe that he solved more than one case today. I think…that I found out what I really wanted to know.”
The shy little smile awoke a resolve in me that I hadn’t realized was still there. I took her hand in both of mine.
“So did I,” I said.