Byron's Hero

Look at him up there. Smiling, waving, lapping up all the attention coming his way. The flash of the cameras, the screaming sycophants, the silver bulbs of microphones rising above the crowd like metallic weeds in an overgrown field, ones that’s surely as infertile as the minds of his followers. I’m sure he only sees all of this as his due. Apparently I’m the only person on the station that sees him for the bastard that he really is and the owner of -quite possibly- the galaxy’s most punchable face.

I take another drink as the mindless crowd cheers on Chancellor Fritz Wolfe, Murderer. I really feel that the last part of his title is important, even if no one else does. Okay, maybe it’s not an official title or anything, but I feel like it should still carry some weight. My standards for, well, anything are not remarkably high, not anymore, but I think that if I can work up enough enthusiasm to arrest and try a murderer, then at least someone else should be able to as well. Guess not. 

I suppose that’s why he’s on the station TV network giving a speech about why he did what he did and why it’s okay to be a murdering shithead, while I’m drinking alone in a bar of questionable hygienic standards, trying really hard to forget that, even though I’ve never done anything wrong, this asshole has ruined my career and reputation more than once at this point. Usually this bar is good for that, seeing as it has high proof and low standards. Not today though. I turn my attention back to the news feed.  

“Of course I regret my actions,” Fritz is saying, his eyes red. Suspiciously red, in my opinion. “I would do anything to change that horrible day. But, please understand, the man that I killed -and I did kill him- I will not deny that, was going to destroy everything we’ve worked so hard to build here. One transmission to Earth, that’s all. Everything we -and our ancestors- worked so hard to build here would be pulled away from us. I ask you, my fellow citizens, is that right? Does one person have the right to decide the fate of our station and the planet-side colony? What gives him that right if he does?” Fritz’s voice was reaching a crescendo now. The susurrus from the crowd was slowly transitioning into a dull roar. I doubt if anyone who was there in person actually noticed it was happening. I did though. I never really quit being a cop, or a teacher, even though some other people tried to decide that for me. Either way, in either profession, growing volume means growing tension, like a balloon that’s been inflated just a little too much. All it takes is one little prick and the whole thing blows. Just like a prison or a classroom, Fritz’s press conference looked like it was full of little pricks.  

Oops, prick #1 is speaking again. Let’s listen.

“...Yes, you are correct,” he said to a reporter who had apparently asked a question. “Former detective Johann Schimdt and Thalia Khan did discover the evidence of the murder ten years ago, although Schmidt has said that he acted alone in transmitting the evidence to Earth. He and Ms. Khan are currently being investigated by the station security force for a number of possible illegal actions used in obtaining the evidence in the first place.”

“Isn’t that slightly less of an issue than murdering someone?” the reporter interrupted. What a dink. Fritz, bastard though he is, has never lost a contest with a journalist at one of these. His eyes furrow as he prepares a fatal verbal shot for his latest victim. 

“Mr. Hofstetter, is it?” Fritz asks, squinting his eyes as though he is reading the reporter’s press ID badge. I’d bet good money that he had memorized the name of every reporter that was going to be there 5 minutes after the press conference was scheduled.

“My actions were reprehensible and vile and I will have to live with the guilt for the rest of my life. Do you know that, every night for the last ten years, I’ve dreamt of the man I killed? I see the terror in his face, hear the wheezing, gurgling sounds as his last breath escaped his lungs. I see the light in the eyes fade and go out. I know, rationally, that the eyes are the same before and after death, but there’s some kind of change, at the moment of transition. I don’t know how to describe it. I don’t know what the words are. It just changes. And it’s horrifying. I would give anything to go back to a time when I didn’t know that. It’s my penance I suppose. I did what I did to safeguard the station and its people. To let us continue the work our forefathers started. To let us continue to tame the galactic frontier instead of being shipped back to Earth to live dismal, meaningless lives. If that is the cost of preserving this station and its people then it is one that I will gladly pay for you.”

Cheering explodes from the crowd. There is a quick shot of the journalist sitting down, realizing that he’s lost, and probably fired. This is too much. Could he have laid it on any thicker? This is just too goddamn much.

“Blow it out your ass Fritz!” I yell and throw my empty (okay, mostly empty) Schnapps glass at the video screen. There is the expected noise of shattering glass. Shards of the glass fall to the ground. There is a mostly round hole in the now-black screen and I can see a few glass pieces from it mingling with the broken booze glass on the floor.

“Going to have to charge you for that, Johann,” the gravelly voice of Hans, the barmann intones solemnly. 

“Just add it to my tab,” I retort without looking at him.

“Running out of space on that tab of yours. You been in here a lot lately.”

“Yeah, well, not much point going home when there’s nothing to go home to, is there?”

“Suppose not. Did Elke get the kids away?”

“Yeah. I got a quick message saying they were safe, but not where. Makes sense I suppose, seeing as how I’m probably going to be questioned quite a bit in the near future. The less I know the better. Said they’d be back when all this is sorted and settled down. Anyway, how about another?” I ask. “Since I’m already making good decisions and all.”

“No. No, don’t think so,” Hans replied. “I’m guessing that’s not all she said is it?”

I stared ahead, not looking at him.

“Is it, Johann?” he asked again.

“Okay, fine. There might have been a footnote about them not coming back until I’m a little more sober than I’ve been recently.” Shit. How did he do that? Whoever in the scientific community decided that human psychics were impossible had obviously never tried to get a drink here. 

He slides a glass of ice water in front of me. It has a slice of lemon in it. Hooray. That’ll make everything all better.

* * *

I look at the video screen. Fritz is still giving his speech. The crowd is eating it up. He always knew how to manipulate people. I mean, it worked on me and I’m not exactly an idiot. I’m a better detective and judge of people than Johann ever was, but he still got me to fall in love with him and convince me to marry him. 

Too bad nothing of any consequence happened after the honeymoon was over. It became clear pretty early on that he’d only married me as a means to an end, to help his political career. I guess it worked. He made history by becoming the youngest Chancellor in station history. People liked a family man, I guess.

It wasn’t great, but I went along with it. There were lots of perks and I got to keep my old job, which I liked. It was sad taking over my first husband, Karl’s job when he died, but I got the station homicide investigation department up and running like a well-oiled machine. It was satisfying work and, for the most part, Fritz kept me out of the public eye, so I just went along with it. It wasn’t the most romantic marriage, but that was never something that was a high priority for me, so I just figured what the hell. I was doing okay.

Then Johann and Thalia went digging on the cold case and found out that my dear husband had murdered a deep-cover agent from Earth. I was willing to put up with a lot, but my spouse killing people wasn’t one of them. That’s a line right there.

The three of us confronted him and he confessed. Laid it out on the line. And, he was right. The Earthy was going to pull the plug on Hinterlands. It was all over for us, if Earth found out. So we all agreed to keep quiet.  

I didn't go home that night. I walked around the part of the station in the night cycle. I wanted to be sick. I’d made a career out of bringing murderers to justice and I’d just, voluntarily, let one go. It shouldn’t matter that I was married to him. It shouldn’t matter that he had a point about the greater good and all that. It should have mattered more that I was married to him than the part about the greater good, but I’m not sure it did. I sat down on a park bench and fell asleep.

I don’t know what time it was when I woke up. It was at least mid-day. Clearly the regular security force didn’t enforce vagrancy regulations any more that I was enforcing murder laws at this point.

The station lurched as a God-awful booming noise came from high above me. I looked out of the giant window above me, on the opposite side of the cylinder. I saw a bunch of blue and orange flashes. They looked like explosions. What was going on?

The general alarm sounded for civilians to get to emergency shelters. The data link on my wrist beeped.

“WHAT?” I yelled into it over the din.

“Detective Sergeant Wolfe,” came the dispatcher’s voice, “Hinterlands is being attacked. Report to the security station immediately.”

“On my way.”

A little while later, after shouting at a few peons, I had most of the details. So, as it turned out, Johann, despite what he’d promised, called Earth. He’d laid out everything, including Fritz’s murder of their agent. Earth, in turn, wasn’t super happy about that. Turns out, within the last couple of years, they’d mastered instantaneous communication and some kind of faster than light travel. What a shame that Johann hadn’t counted on them doing the impossible before he called home.

Instead of pulling the plug on us, Earth just decided to come in and take over, so their first expedition with their new ships got redirected here, instead of to Proxima Centauri. 

Unfortunately, faster than light engines, the Russell Drive, or whatever the hell they’re called, give off some kind of signal that just so happened to alert aliens to our presence.  

Also, aliens exist and they’re shooting at us now.

And my dear husband was able to blame all this on Johann too. After the first battle, the aliens withdrew. They disappeared through the weird hole in space they’d come from. Fritz then held another press conference, where he essentially said that we’d all have been fine if Johann had kept his mouth shut.

The crowd ate it up. Johann is a pariah and Fritz is a hero. The man who just tried to keep the station running. Even if it meant murdering someone. It’s funny how most people can ignore that previous sentence, as long as it doesn’t present any personal inconvenience to them personally.

I think the aliens would have shown up regardless. I’d bet good money that it was the Russell Drive that caught their attention. I'd bet good money that they would have shown up at Proxima Centauri instead of here if Johann hadn’t done the right thing, but I’m not sure location is what everyone should be focusing on here.

The data link on my wrist beeps again. I flick the receive button.

“Rolfe, dear,” Fritz’s voice begins. “Please join me in station command. Fleet Captain Ralston would like to have a representative from the security force at the next briefing.”

I considered this for a second. I had met Ralston briefly before. Well, not really met, but I sat in on a call with Fritz when Ralston announced he and his fleet would be arriving to see why things had gotten so murdery around here. He was a big, no-nonsense Navy type. He was blunt, brief and to-the-point and I could tell that he was one of those commanders that didn’t like to have unexpected problems crop up. That was before a bunch aliens showed up and started shooting at us. Unfortunately, now that aliens had appeared out of nowhere, the entire universe appeared to be an unexpected problem. The fact that this problem likely couldn’t be solved by shooting at it didn’t seem to have made him any happier. 

“Sure honey,” I replied. He hated when I called him that. “I’m at the station and need to take care of one more quick thing and then I’ll be there.”

“Just get here as quickly as possible please.”

I grabbed a couple of quick trinkets out of my desk and walked to the dispatcher’s desk. The dispatcher looked up at me and raised his eyebrows.

“Going to meet your husband?” he asked me. “He’s so brave. I can’t imagine being brave enough to make a decision like that. And then still having to live the trauma…” his voice trailed off.

Jesus. Contrary to what he said at the press conference, I can assure you that my husband never lost a wink of sleep over killing that guy.

“Actually Jake, I’m resigning my commission,” I said, slapping my badge and stunner down on his desk.

He looked at me aghast. Why not ruin his day a little more. Maybe it would actually make him think about something.

“Also get me whatever paperwork you need to file for divorce.” I think I’ve had my fill of heroes. 

* * *

I don’t understand people. Johann said that Fritz would go to jail. Rolfe said he would arrest Fritz himself, even though he was his husband. Then Fritz told us about the station collapsing if Earth found out. So I stayed quiet. Rolfe and Johann said it was okay, just this once. Then Johann told everyone anyway. And no one seemed to care. And now Fritz is a hero. When the aliens attacked everybody seemed to forget. I didn’t, but no one else seems to care anymore. Oh, my data link is beeping. How long has it been doing that?

“Thalia?” Johann’s voice asked from the device on my wrist.

“What?”

“Nice to talk to you too. Meet me at transport 1B as soon as you can. We’ve been summoned to station command.”

“Why?”

“Fritzy and the Earth admiral or whatever he is want to talk to us.”

“I don’t want to talk to them.”

“You think I do? It’s not really a request. Just get there as soon as you can.”

“Is the admiral going to arrest Fritz?”

“Seriously? Since aliens just invaded, I’m guessing that’s not high on his priority list right now. Fritz will probably be left in charge to keep things stable, at least until we have a better handle on what’s going on.”

“That’s not right.”

“No, it isn’t. Any other complaints?"

“Why do we have to go? I like computers. I don’t know anything about aliens.”

“And you think anyone else does? I’m probably going because I had the nerve to turn Fritz in. You’re probably going because you had the nerve to investigate and confront him. The admiral is probably trying to keep him off-balance, in case he starts feeling all murdery again. Either way, if you don’t show up security’ll just haul you in anyway.”

“Fine,” I huff. I have better things to do. This is stupid.

People are complicated. I don't like them.

* * *

I look at Rolfe, Johann and Thalia Khan as they enter station command. Rolfe and Johann look furious. Khan looks simultaneously bored and confused. Nothing more than a group of ignorant clowns. Completely negligible humans. Even Rolfe who, as intelligent as he is, never realized that he is only a means to an end.

What did they think would happen if they crossed me? Regardless of how I did it, I did preserve the station. What’s one dead Earthy? They’re not exactly popular around here. 

Fleet Captain Raltson greets them as they enter and begins explaining the basic situation to them. Rolfe and Johann listen intently, their expressions shrewd. They are good detectives, after all. Khan attempts to pay attention but her eyes dart away toward the station computers frequently. 

I can tell that Ralston is angry and would like to arrest me, but is unwilling to risk the civil unrest that will follow at this critical time. Thanks to the press conferences, the station populace loves me after all. I will play along. For the time being.

I can’t wait for this meeting to be over. I would like to go home and go to sleep. It is nice being a hero. I will sleep very well tonight indeed.