Devolution

Hatsis looked even better in real life. He knocked on the door of Jacobssen’s room and entered at the same time without waiting for an invitation. A big man, tall and solid with a barrel chest and a head perhaps a fraction too large to suit his frame, he strode quickly and confidently to Adrian’s bedside. He pushed a large fur covered hand towards him and said, ‘Detective Hatsis, S.C.L.A.C.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Adrian. He liked acronyms too but couldn’t resist having some fun with the brash Australian detective.

‘Sydney City Local Area Command. S.C.L.A.C.’

‘You’re a real shit stirrer, aren’t you Jacobssen?’

Adrian met Hatsis’ direct gaze, and considered saying takes one to no one, but thought better of it. ‘Not at all, but is there any chance you could address me as Inspector?’

‘Not at all.’

Adrian nodded and waited for the detective to begin his interrogation then watched as the man removed a standard issue palm notebook from his jacket pocket and turned to locate a chair behind him before pulling it close to the side of the bed, and planting his substantial weight in it.

‘I don’t mind,’ began Hatsis, ‘helping visiting police with their investigations. I’m especially keen to do so if there are some of our own fuckers messed up in something illegal. Point is, I have to be in the loop. As a matter of professional courtesy and respect…’ Hatsis noted Jacobssen’s raised eyebrows in reaction to the word, ‘and respect,’ he repeated, ‘I think it’s only fair and to be blunt, bloody good sense to inform the local authorities of what the fucking hell is going on.’

‘Now you talk, Inspector, if you would be so kind.’

Too hard not to like this guy and I bet he is a hell of a policeman, thought Jacobssen. Many years of reading faces and assessing people’s character beyond their words and actions enabled him to quickly decide to trust Hatsis, and tell him most of what he knew.

‘To save us going over old ground and repeating ourselves,’ began Jacobssen, ‘why don’t you tell me what you know and I’ll fill in some gaps for you?’

‘Some gaps?’

‘Work with me.’

Hatsis fiddled with his palm notebook, pressed a few buttons and scratched the back of his head.

‘September 19. Senator 1-11-15 dies, presumably murdered, in Earth’s Parliament during a speech. You, naturally as chief of police head up the investigation. Three hours later, Senator Harish Singh, whom you had interviewed in Parliament House, is killed outside the Hibiscus Club. Again, quite obviously, you are the senior officer on scene. Two hours after that, you are on your way back to the Police station when you are involved in an M.V.A.-very rare these days, aren’t they? Very fucking rare.’

Adrian nodded.

’In the melee that follows the accident, an attempt is made on your life. The would-be assassin is killed at the scene before any information can be extracted from him. In the midst of this major, major investigation, the Chief Inspector of police in Mumbai, that’s you, leaves that city and travels here to Sydney. We monitor your arrival and note where you are staying.

‘I intended to contact you the day after you arrived, that’s today…’ Hatsis looked up from his notebook and met Adrian’s eyes in an interrogative glare.

‘Unfortunately, you ended up here in St. Vincent’s before I could speak to you.’

Adrian pushed down with his palms onto the bed and lifted himself into a more upright position. He was stalling. Hatsis didn’t know anything about what he was doing in Sydney. He was obviously suspicious but he had no facts, no knowledge other than what he had seen on the news. Putting two and two together he had reached the very obvious conclusion that Jacobssen was here as part of the investigation of the murders of the senators in Mumbai.

‘So in the middle of a major investigation, one in which your own life has been threatened you leave Mumbai for a trip to beautiful Sydney. What reason would you have for doing that besides the most logical one, that being that this trip is a part of the investigation, right?’

Adrian merely nodded again.

‘What is the connection?’

Quickly running through his plan in his mind, Adrian took a sip of water and considered Detective Hatsis to make sure of his initial impressions. Help from the local police, provided they did not have too much information would be invaluable in locating Veena, Ted and Joshua, but it was risky to involve too many others.

‘You heard the rumors about Singh and 15?’

Hatsis look of feigned ignorance failed to impress Jacobssen.

‘Cut the bullshit, Hatsis. Are we going to work straight on this one or stuff around? Everyone’s heard the rumors.’

Standing up and walking away from his bed seemed to be an affirmative answer from Hatsis, so while he stretched and paced the small room, Adrian continued.

‘I have evidence that the rumors are at least partially true.’

Hatsis stopped in his tracks and turned slowly. ‘Partially true? Which parts are true and which aren’t?’

‘I’m not sure but according to my source.’

‘Who’s your source?’

‘I won’t name him now and it’s not important. What is important is that I feel his evidence is credible.’

‘So this guy you what…talked to?’

Adrian nodded.

‘This guy told you something that made you get on a plane and fly down here?’

‘Detective, this will go much faster if you stop interrupting me.’

Hatsis fell back into his chair and raised his open palms to Jacobssen.

’The Newtonians have been for some time been working on the development of morphing drugs to help expedite the evolution of their species. It’s called directed evolution, or devolution for short, well that’s what they call it. Others call it genetic engineering. Some fundamentalist Deist groups call it ‘playing God’.

’The massive funding required for research and development was initially raised via private donations and then supplemented by a levy on Newtonians. None of this was secret. The Newtonian High Council made it very clear which direction their response to their Kinshasha Report-I assume you’re familiar with it- would take. Their spokesman and champion was Senator 15.

’While it was public knowledge that the Newtonian council had instigated this very expensive and expansive research and development project called Devolution which they believed was the only way to ensure the survival of their tribe, progressive reporting on the program was not published. Not in the parliament, not in the media, not even to the majority of Newtonians who were kept out of the information loop despite the fact they were helping to finance the program.

‘Whenever questions were raised about the program and how it was going, or whenever anyone suggested that regular reporting should be mandatory in order to keep the operators accountable, the answer from Senator 15 was that there was nothing to report. A team of scientists were constructing theoretical paradigms and analyzing them. It was all talk. He used to love to say how it was all babble to him as well and best left to those whose minds were tuned in to places most people would be afraid to go. Whatever that meant.’

‘Where does Senator Singh fit in to this?’ Hatsis was becoming impatient so he stood again.

’Senator Singh and Senator 15 were old friends, good friends who rose to positions of leadership within their tribes and consequently had to forgo all but the business side of their relationship. Although from different tribes who voraciously advocated separatist policies, they held many similar views and deeply respected one another.

’15 confided in Singh about the program’s early successes which he couldn’t reveal to anyone else. He was chuffed, said my witness, visibly excited about the rapid progress of the morphing drugs and he needed to tell someone he could trust. He needed to share his triumph, his elation.

’Singh’s response was of course to share his friend and colleagues joy but also to immediately consider how the new technology might benefit his own race, the Adonites.

‘15 had a good relationship with one of the scientists working for him. I mean he got on well with all of them but he especially liked and trusted this man.’

Hatsis couldn’t help himself, ‘Your source?’

Adrian smiled. ‘I knew from looking at you, you were a sharp detective. So this guy through his friendship with 15 becomes friends with Singh and Singh gets in his ear about alternate applications for the new technology. More specifically, he’s asking if the technology can be used for weapons construction. Specifically poisons. Remember these are morphing drugs we are talking about. Genetic time bombs they are.’

‘This is sounding like the A-bomb all over again. Einstein splits the atom and the next thing you know we have a bomb which ends the war by destroying a whole city and the arms race begins.’

‘This guy, Smisco,’ continued Adrian, as he ignored Hatsis’ commentary.

‘Ah! A name at last,’ said Hatsis keying the new information into his notepad.

‘Don’t bother trying to reach out to this guy, Hatsis. He’s dead.’

‘You’ve got murders coming out of your fucking ears, haven’t you?’

Adrian overlooked the comment because he was anxious to get on with the story and he was beginning to tire.

‘As I was saying, Smisco felt uncomfortable about the idea and told Singh that he would need to discuss it with 15. Singh convinced Smisco not to do that and-here I have a big question mark-he agrees not to tell 15.’

‘Smisco becomes like a double agent.’

‘Right, he’s caught in the middle of two very powerful friends and trying to please them both.’

‘Who killed him?’

‘There’s someone else outside of all this. There must be. First 15 dies, then Singh, then they have a go at me, and finally they get Smisco. Most likely suspect is that someone who used Harish Singh to access information on the Devolution project, and then pressured him to push for a more military use of the technology. But who is going to tell me more about the program? My insider is permanently silenced and the Newtonian Council is a closed shop. Earth Parliament is temporarily suspended so there’s no political clout being brought to bear on the Council. I thought I’d reached a dead end until I learned that three youngsters had left Mumbai in a hurry en route to Australia.’

Hatsis’ face brightened. ‘Who the fuck are these youngsters, as you call them? Why are they here and where exactly are they? This is where I can help, right?’

‘Joshua Carpenter is an orphan Deist who recently enlisted in the International Carrier Force after the death of his cousin. He’s here on official carrier business, he is loaded. With him are his two best friends, a Newtonian and an Adonite. Their names: 3-11-15 and Veena Singh.’

‘Fuck me,’ said Hatsis forcefully. ‘You’re shitting me, right?’

Jacobssen shook his head.

‘They won’t necessarily know anything about all this but I believe-and I don’t have a shred of proof, just a gut feeling-the person or persons who contracted Joshua through ICF, chose him specifically to divert attention away from the three of them as suspects.’

‘This Joshua is carrying evidence against the fathers of his two friends?’

‘That’s my hunch. Are you going to help me follow it up?’

‘Shit yeah,’ said Hatsis standing again, with the enthusiasm of a rookie painted all over his big mustached face.