CHAPTER 1

I woke before the first officer touched my door buzzer. I smelled them coming, a mixture of sweat, ozone and chemical cleansers that streamed around the door through the tiniest cracks like light from a spotlight. I can see with smells these days. I'm Brock Marsden, a member of the Moreau Society, a private detective, and they had better have a damn good reason to come to my door at four in the morning.

I opened my eyes. I saw the room clearly despite the lack of light. The roses in the vase on the table bled light as their molecules decayed but still smelled sweet. I heard the officers muttering at the door.

I rolled off the couch and grabbed my Lottier 45 loaded with nanoparalyzers for over 150 Rim species. Other than my boxers I didn't have on a stitch of clothing. Who cared? I didn't. I crossed the room in two quick strides, faster than a standard human could manage. I put my back to the wall beside the door. I'd reinforced that section with armored panels. You can't ever be too careful in my line of work as a private detective on Olinda.

The buzzer rang. That triggered the house defenses to come online. Windows shuttered. Recording equipment activated. All sorts of active defenses armed themselves. If anyone broke in while I was gone, they'd be in for a surprise. For a good reason, the Galactics' Moreau Pod in my workshop alone was worth a fortune. A small screen beside the door activated showing officers shielding their eyes from the bright spotlights pointing at them and right in the middle stood a familiar face.

Captain Kynan Brice. His big frame shrouded in a long black coat that matched his short-cropped hair. Very muscled, visibly so even with the coat, and tanned. An excellent swimmer, according to Subha. Four other officers stood with him. He looked up, squinting against the lights.

"Brock Marsden! Come out! We need to talk."

Talk? Captain Brice didn't much like me. I never could decide if it was personal or simply the fact that I'm a Moreau. Even so, we'd managed to work on a few cases. I'd listen. But coming this early didn't put me in the best mood.

I touched an icon on the screen. "Give me a sec."

"Hurry up," Brice grumped.

Right. Like I worked for him. Still, I knew him well enough that this was the last place he wanted to come at this hour. Either it was important, or he wanted to arrest me for some trumped up charge. I grabbed pants and a shirt and dressed quickly. When I got back to the door Captain Brice had a frown on his face. I opened the door and stepped out. The two officers closest to me grabbed my arms.

I reacted. I twisted my hands around and grabbed their arms, stepping back in the same moment into the house, and I spread my arms. They hit the door frame and bounced off as I released them. I spun around the corner, putting the armor at my back. It didn't matter. I could see the men outside with my Euzebian scent-sight. The ones that hit the frame were getting up. The others drew weapons which looked like dark voids that leaked only the faintest wisps of decaying molecules. The men brightened. Angry, hearts pumping harder, sweat glands working harder. Captain Brice held out a hand and waved the others back.

I was a second from ordering the house sealed.

"Brock—"

"What's going on out here?" A woman's voice. My landlord, neighbor, and friend from the other side of the duplex. Sonya.

She entered the range of my scent-sight. She glowed like an angel. Blue-green streamers poured from her mouth when she spoke. I smelled her concern. Her fear shrouded her in sharp orange waves that pulsed off her with each heart-beat.

One of the officers moved in her direction. "Ma'am, stay back. It isn't safe."

"Brock!" Captain Brice stood sideways right outside my door. "Come back out!"

"Why?"

"Damn it, Brock! Just get out here!"

"When your men have weapons aimed at the door? I don't think so."

"Shit!" That from the officer on Brice's right. Scarlet streamers of nervousness bled down from his sweaty palms.

"Make any move, and I shut this door." I tapped the panel. All set to activate siege mode. It'd take a lot more than they had to get in. "Put away the weapons. Send them back to your flitters."

"Brock?" Sonya said. The officer blocked her approach. "Brock? What's going on?"

"Captain? What's it going to be?"

"Brock, damn it, I don't have time for this!"

"Funny. I have all the time in the world."

"Go." Brice waved his hands at the officers. "Back to the flitters! Now, damn it!"

The officers backed away from the door. Weapons still out. They didn't move fast enough for Brice or me. He spun around. "Double-time! Move it!"

They moved. I waited until they reached the edge of my scent-sight and then I eased around the corner. I kept my hands visible. No need to worry them. Captain Brice's brow furrowed as he glared at me.

"Why do you have to make everything so damn hard?"

"Hey, I cooperated until your guys grabbed me."

"They just followed procedure."

"Right. If I was a criminal. What is it, Captain?" He smelled like too much coffee. No doubt the Captain hadn't been getting a lot of sleep lately. "Another Burn operation? More Nosferans coming in?"

"Yes, but I don't need your help for those." Captain Brice ran a hand through his hair.

He didn't say which was true, or both? After the last time, it could be both, and he knew about my status with the Nosferans. Not many people did. I rarely told anyone what I did during the Nosferan-Human war. Most people wouldn’t believe I was that old.

Sonya walked down the ramp running along the front of the house and stood beside me. She crossed her arms and stared at the Captain. I didn't need to look at her to know that she felt protective of me.

"We've got a situation. I need you to look at it, give me your opinion, and I need it fast."

"My opinion? Why would you want that?" I could think of several reasons, and I didn't like any of the answers that came to mind. Not everything I did strictly fit within even Olinda's liberal laws.

Captain Brice put his hands on his hips. "Will you come with me willingly or do I haul you in on an obstruction charge?"

Empty threat. "Tell you what. Pay the agency's usual fee, and I'll be happy to help out the department."

He stared at him. From his scent, I could see the dark green of his anger puffing out of him with each breath. He nodded. "Fine. Fine. Come on."

He didn't wait. He turned his back on me and headed towards the flitters. I looked down at Sonya. "Okay with you if I'm not back in time to milk Dancy and Prancy?"

Milking the goats was one of the things I did around the place to help out. Sonya shrugged, but I smelled her sour worry. "Yes. Be careful. He seems pretty upset."

I looked at the Captain's retreating back. "He's always upset about something. I'd better catch up. I'll see you later."

I slipped back to the door and touched the pad to seal the house. My side anyway. The place was a duplex, set into the side of the hill. Everything is a hill Olinda. A world of terraces and mountains on the massive equatorial island chain surrounded by the ocean. There are small sub-continents at the poles, but those are mostly locked in ice. Looking out from the doorstep I couldn't see the ocean. Too many miles away with several peaks in between us and the shore. But it was there. Ninety percent of the surface.

I jogged down the biocrete path after Captain Brice. I'm fast. I caught up before he reached the flitter pad at the bottom of the ramp.

Used to be I liked flitters. Not anymore. Since I added the Euzebian DNA to gain their scent-sight, being in a small place like a flitter makes me feel cut off from the world. It was worse in the beginning when I hadn't learned to integrate the scent-sight with my regular vision. For a while there I went around with a blindfold and being enclosed like this with several standard humans would have been overwhelming.

I've learned to close my nostrils since then. It doesn't eliminate the scent-sight, but it damps it down. My visual acuity is much greater a standard human. Sitting in the flitter as we flew above the city and peaks I could make out the people far below. Humans and non-humans of all sorts going about their business. Olinda boasts a very diverse population. It keeps Shanley Walsh, my boss, and owner of the detective agency, very happy. We never lack for cases. I'm sure he'd appreciate that I talked Captain Brice into paying our usual fee.

The flitter flew straight away from the house for several minutes then curved to follow a course parallel to the ocean. Clouds covered the south end of the city which was mostly the docks, warehouses, and fishing vessels. Fishing being Olinda's chief export. We passed over the main commercial district right through the no-fly zone. Being in a police flitter had its advantages. Fifteen minutes after we left my house we descended towards the high mountain outskirts of Olinda. Mostly rice terraces that captured the rainfall when the clouds bunched up against the peaks. Terrace after terrace of biocrete rose up the side of the mountain, alternating bands of white and green. Humans and non-humans alike worked the rice terraces. I watched a quadruped wearing bright scarlet clothing bound up from one terrace to the next. Harvester? I had no idea.

Around the side of the mountain, a structure stuck out of the side of the hill. A collection of a half-dozen biocrete towers growing right out of the sheer rock. Far below a river thundered down along the gorge towards the ocean. The police flitter headed for a landing pad sticking out of the fourth tower. Two other police flitters and an ambulance flitter already occupied the pad. It didn't leave us much room to land. Any room, actually. The pilot kept going for it anyway. Wind buffeted the flitter and knocked us about. I checked my seat belts. Fastened tight.

Captain Brice grinned. "Afraid of flying?"

I shook my head. "No. It's the falling that gets my attention."

I'll give the pilot credit. He brought the flitter right up alongside the landing platform and held it there against the wind. Brice opened the door. The wind howled in with a fury. He wrapped his coat around himself and stepped down from the flitter, dropping down onto the platform. I triggered the release and followed him out, jumping down behind him. The flitter rose off and left us there. I turned and looked over the edge of the platform. Far, far below a rainbow arced across the gorge above the river. I saw Olindan diving bats speeding across the gorge, spiraling and diving through the spray. Native Olindan vegetation grew on the rough slopes. All pale pastel greens and blues. The rice patties on the terraces looked very bright in contrast.

"Stop gawking and come on!"

I looked at the Captain.

He stared back at me. One of these days he's going to come at me. I could see him calculating. How easy would it be to knock me from the landing platform? Not that he'd do that. Captain Brice is an honorable man in his own way. He just sees me as a junkie. If it were up to him, Moreau Pods would be illegal. But Olinda has very permissive laws regarding anything that doesn't directly hurt anyone else, whether that be drugs or modifying DNA.

I left the edge. Time to see what had him all worked up.

He led me through the crowds of police, forensics crew, and the coroner staff. Everyone was standing around doing nothing. A bunch of civilians off to one side behind a barricade looked annoyed and huddled together against the wind. To my Euzebian scent-sight, the whole area was almost like a blizzard. All of the scents being blown around made it almost impossible to see anyone until close to them. I had to tell myself not to close my eyes and instead closed my nostrils. A native Euzebian only had vestigial eyes that picked up light, dark and movement. I'm glad I kept my eyes in the transition.

I followed Brice into the building, and as soon as the sliding doors closed behind us, everything felt much more peaceful. No more howling wind. I could open my nostrils and actually see things normally. The biocrete at my feet glowed very faintly. We were alone, but I could sense more to the scene. I exhaled and relaxed my hold on my neck slits, opening up to the scene. Another Euzebian trait, the neck slits normally look like tattoos on my neck, four on each side. When I open them up, I'm able to take in far more complex scents than I can with just my nostrils. I concentrated and saw ghostly images of people walking through the hallway. Civilians running. All silent but they smelled of spicy urgency.

"What happened here? Why the panic, Brice?"

Brice stopped. "You'll see. I want you to see. How far back can you see?"

"That depends on the conditions." This is why he wanted me. Brice knew about the Euzebian scent-sight. It's more than just seeing what's around me right now. I can concentrate and see what has been in an area. Like watching those people run through the hallway. It’s my brain picking up on the scent trails left behind and reinterpreting them visually.

He went on, and I followed him. The wide hallway gave out to a large circular room at the base of the tower. A large relief image of Olinda had been engraved into the biocrete floor. Just enough to define the sphere with the island chain snaking across the face of it like a jagged smile. Several other doorways opened out of the tower, and a glass-enclosed elevator sat waiting on one side of the room. Far above a skylight capped the tower.

Brice went to the elevator. I followed him. In my scent-sight, I saw person after person cross the room and enter the elevator. It felt like stepping into a crowd even though it was only the two of us in the spacious car. Brice flicked the panel indicator for the fourth floor. The car accelerated up rapidly. I watched the floor drop away beneath us. From up here, the engraving stood out more. It felt like we were going into space. In seconds we stopped at the fourth floor, and the door behind us opened. Death poured into the elevator.

The scents oozed along the ground, a brown miasma of putrefaction and shit. A thin mist that spread across the floor and slowly evaporated upwards on the air currents.

"Who died?" I asked.

Brice glanced at me and swept down the curved hallway. His brighter odors mingled and swirled with the scent of death, leaving eddies in his wake. I closed my neck slits. I didn't need to smell that much right now. The images faded and I followed the Captain.

Located a quarter of the way around the tower the room looked like an office. The outside wall nothing but a large window looking out on the gorge and peaks at the heart of the island. Beside the window a long workstation, it looked like imported oak, curved along the wall, and curled out into the room to form a desk. Two leather chairs sat in front of the desk. A couple tasteful paintings of Olindan landscapes hung on the wall, and an Olindan ivy grew up a trellis beside the window. On the desk, a bowl of glitter shells caught the light and sparkled.

I took that all in as soon as I entered the room and then focused on the body. A body sat in the high-backed chair behind the desk. Their hands — such as they were — lay on the desk surface as if they had been working. Everything about the room, the painting choices, the oak desk and the furniture all screamed human, most likely a woman. Except the body behind the desk didn't look human at all. Brice took up a position beside the door. Even with my damped down scent-sight, I could see the faint yellow of his apprehension oozing out of his pores. Something about this one really bothered him and translated into aggression towards me. Why?

The body didn't appear human but was humanoid. Two arms, I assumed legs out of sight, and a head. Long dark hair clung to the wet-looking skin. It looked like the body had been immersed in water. More liquid pooled around the hands on the desktop. The one on the right ended in what looked like a cluster of scarlet tentacles, thinner and longer than fingers. The one on the right had four thick fingers, dark earthy brown in color, with a half-dozen joints each arranged in a circle. The exposed skin on the arms varied in texture from pink flesh to iridescent scales to patches of bristly black spines or fur. Worse of all — the face. As if several different sorts of faces had been melted together. I saw faceted eyes embedded like raisins in oatmeal, half the mouth filled with jutting razor-edged teeth and the other half actually human teeth. A human-looking blue eye stared sightlessly from a pit down beneath an overly large wrinkled black ear. The body was contorted against the chair, twisted partly to the side, the head was thrown back.

An expression of agony was still visible on that face, despite the slackness that came with death.

I realized that I didn't mind missing breakfast so much. Still, I looked over at Brice. "Any chance of some Torlian coffee?"

"Why don't you worry about this?" Brice waved his arm at the body. "Talk to me. Then we can see about your damn coffee!"

"Fine." I walked closer to the desk. I watched where I stepped carefully and considered what I could see.

Her — I'd seen enough to realize it had to be a woman — clothing looked like standard human attire. A bright green blouse with elbow-length sleeves ending in a bit of white lace. A dark stain down the front looked like blood and caught in the folds of the shirt I saw bloodied human teeth. Blood also stained her cleft chin. Despite the deformities, I didn't see any other sign of violence. I didn't like what I was seeing.

"She looks like a Dumpty," I said.

Brice's apprehension increased. Waves of yellow pooled at his feet. "That's what I thought. I cleared the place out immediately."

"So who brought her here? There must be security recordings."

Brice shook his head. "Not up here. Only at the access points. I'll show you."

He pulled out a tablet and tapped the surface. He handed it over. I hit play. Good 3D resolution from the cameras. It looked like I was behind a window looking down on the entrance. A pretty human woman with long dark hair and the same green blouse as on this body walked confidently into the building. She glanced up at the cameras and smiled. She knew the system. It didn't worry her. She walked on out of view.

I dragged the video back and twisted the view around until I was almost at head-height looking straight at her. The same confident walk, smile for the camera and then she walked on past me. I handed the tablet back to the Captain.

"Okay. Who is she?"

"Her name was Montana Haugh. She's chief of research here."

"Studying what?"

"Rice production."

I looked back at what Montana had become. "Really?"

In my scent-sight, I saw Brice take a couple steps closer. "Yes, as far as we can tell."

"So what happened after the video was taken?"

"We don't know. According to the staff, Haugh would have been working here in her office alone. They say there's no Moreau Pods on the premises."

"Are you searching?"

Brice scowled. "Of course. We haven't found anything."

"Well, I doubt she experienced fatal mutations spontaneously." I walked closer to the desk and looked down at the hand with the scarlet tentacles. I'd seen that before. I pointed to it. "This is a hand from the C'lacktal. The cells have a potent sting to them. Semi-aquatic, they use the ability to stun their prey. Stone-age level Rim species cataloged but no official contact. They're supposed to be a quarantined world."

But the other hand. "That one I don't recognize. It is similar to the radial hands of the Balnarians, but I don't think they've got fingers that long." I looked at the rest of her that I could see. "It'd take time to identify all of the species represented here, but it looks like dozens of different species all scrambled together without any plan or purpose."

"But this sort of thing happens all the time. Even when you have a plan."

I walked around the desk still focused on the body. "Not all the time. Sometimes. People make mistakes. Sometimes the new material isn't integrated well. Usually, because someone didn't do enough study to figure out how to integrate the different biochemistries. It isn’t like just sowing on a new limb or transplanting an organ."

I focused more on my scent-sight. The body glowed with all sorts of organic activity. Some aggressive decomposition was taking place. Streamers of molecules poured down the body and pooled around on the floor before seeping out into the hallway. Once around the desk, I saw that her legs had also been radically transformed. One had grown by at least six inches, bent backward and had developed a sharp ridged carapace that had split her pants. Pale cream fur and a hoof were visible on the other. In both cases, her black low-heel shoes had come off. More liquid had pooled on her chair and dripped to the floor.

I didn't like this at all. I waved to Brice. "Come over here."

He walked over to stand beside me. "What is it?"

I pointed at her legs. "Tell me that doesn't look like she was sitting here when she changed."

Brice waved his hand at her. "How could that happen? I assumed she was put in a Moreau Pod and then placed here afterward."

"I don't think so. It looks like Ms. Haugh died at her desk."

"So it wasn't a Moreau Pod?"

"No. But something like it. Obviously, Glittering Throng technology is involved here. Do we have any records of who might have seen her last? We need a time-frame for when this happened."

Brice looked at his tablet. "We're working on that already. I'm going to need names and addresses for everyone in your little Moreau Society." Brice looked up, pocketed the tablet and pulled out a set of handcuffs. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back, Brock."

I couldn't help it. I laughed. To my scent-sight, he spiked in reds and oranges. I held my hands out at my sides. "Think about it, Brice. You hired me to look at this crime scene. Why arrest me when I'm being cooperative?"

"Your Moreau Society is the only group I know on the planet that dabbles in this sort of Galactics' tech! You identified at least one of the species DNA used just by looking at the body. And my people just found a matching DNA sample in that refrigerator of yours. Along with dozens of other species. That's enough to hold you. Now. Put your hands behind your back."

I didn't move. "You had people search my place?"

"Yes. After we left, we served your landlady with a warrant. It's all been seized." Brice took a step closer. "Are you going to make this more difficult?"

I had an idea what he meant. I could disable him. Get past the cops outside, steal one of the flitters and escape. And go where? Get smuggled off world?

"Yes," I said. And then I turned around and put my hands behind my back. "I'm not going to make it easy for you to pin this on the Moreau Society. I'm going to find out who is responsible."

I felt the cool metal of the constrictor cuffs snake around my wrists and tighten. Even with my strength, I wasn't going to be able to break those cuffs. I looked over at Ms. Haugh's body. She had died in agony. Just someone doing her job. I agreed with Brice there. I wanted to find out who did this.

Just as soon as I could convince him to let me go.