all-clear signal was given to the surrounding buildings. From every lobby curious Martians and a few scattered Earthlings came pouring out to resume their business. Human nature being what it always had been, most of them maneuvered themselves so they could pass as closely as possible to the burned out van. A few were even able to catch bare glimpses of the charred corpses inside. The Martians that witnessed this all went away grinning.
Lieutenant Duran and the DPH Battalion Chief showed up at the same time. While the BC went about the task of arranging a fire investigation, Duran rounded up all of the cops on scene. 'All right people,' she told them with a sigh. 'It looks like we got ourselves a multiple homicide investigation to handle here.'
'Question, lieutenant?' said Sam Stanislaus, a five-year police officer.
'What is it Sam?' she asked.
'Is it really considered a homicide if the victims are a bunch of fed fucks?' he asked with a smile. 'I mean, shouldn't we think of it as more of a public assistance?'
'Or defense of life,' another cop put in. 'They were probably on their way to jack some poor slobs printing pamphlets.'
Everyone had a laugh over this, Duran included. When it died down she said: 'While I'm inclined to agree with you, we still have to go through the motions here. So, Haggarty, Wong, Stanislaus, and Ventner, start picking through this crowd and see if you can find any witnesses.'
'Oh right, lieutenant,' Brian said. 'I'm sure that our fellow Martians here will be glad to provide statements about who killed these poor feds. How many statements should we get? Is twenty enough or should we go for thirty?'
This produced another round of laughter. 'Just go through the motions, will you?' Duran asked them. 'Even shithead feds deserve the same sort of jerk-off treatment that we give to welfare class homicides, don't they?'
Everyone was forced to agree that this might be true. Brian, Lisa, and the other two fanned out through the crowd, asking if anyone had seen anything and each recording 'I didn't see nothing' more than a hundred times for the report.
Just as the forensics unit showed up to begin combing the van and its contents for evidence, three more FLEB vans arrived on the scene. They parked less than ten meters away from the crime scene and fully armed and armored agents poured out of their doors, all of them rushing over to the burned van and looking inside, their expressions horror at what they saw. The cops, dip-hoes, and civilians all watched this spectacle as it occurred, more than a few of them making snide remarks. The man in charge of the team, a high-ranking agent by the name of Don Mitchell, found Lieutenant Duran soon after having his worst fears confirmed.
'Any arrests made?' he asked her, glaring at the jeering crowd of Martians.
'Nope,' she said. 'Nobody saw anything. At least that's their story.'
'Somebody saw it happen,' he said, taking an angry step towards her. 'Some piece of shit greenie can't throw a goddamn chunk of concrete and an incendiary device through the window of one of my vans in broad daylight without someone seeing it. I want some witnesses and I want them now!'
Duran stared at him levelly. 'I'll thank you to take a step back from me and lower your tone,' she told him sternly. 'I don't give a shit who you are, I will not be addressed in that manner.'
'Ten of my men are dead!' he yelled, not stepping back. 'How dare you...'
Four of the Eden police officers stepped forward, their hands resting on their tanners. 'The lieutenant said to step back,' one of them told Mitchell menacingly.
'I'd advise you to do as they say,' Duran said lightly. 'As you've noted, tempers are a little short among us greenies lately, especially when feds are involved.'
'Are you threatening me?' he asked her, his face turning red beneath his helmet.
'Take it for what you will,' she told him. 'But step back and lower your voice when you address me and we'll get along a lot better.'
He took a step backwards, to the delight of the crowd watching. He did not, however, lower his voice much. 'My men are taking over this investigation,' he said. 'We're assuming federal authority under the WestHem code.'
Duran smiled. 'Static,' she said. 'It's all yours.' She keyed her radio up. 'All units on the 34th street incident, turn your reports over to me and resume patrol. Our federal friends are going to handle this investigation by themselves.'
Mitchell was somewhat taken aback by how easily she gave it up. 'What is this?' he asked her.
'You think we want to stand around here smelling dead fed if we don't have to?' Duran asked him. 'Have fun with the investigation. I know you folks have lots of experience with this sort of thing, don't you?'
The sarcasm in her voice was quite evident. Mitchell knew, as well as Duran and all of the other cops, that the federal officers were real good at tracking down copyright violators and computer hackers but despite the Internet shows lauding them, were a little short on actual crime experience. 'Well,' he said slowly, backpedaling a bit, 'we will need to use your forensics unit of course.'
'Put your request in through Chief Daniel's office,' Duran told him. 'But until he tells me otherwise, the forensic unit pulls out as well. And I have a pretty good idea what the chief is going to say.'
'Now wait a minute,' Mitchell said. 'Maybe we're getting off on the wrong foot here...'
'We'll turn over everything we've gathered to this point to you,' she said. 'Have fun. Hope you find your man.'
Five minutes later all of the information was downloaded to the FLEB investigation computers and the Eden police officers, every last one of them, cleared the scene and went about their routine duties. When Chief Daniels was asked to dispatch a forensics team to assist in the investigation thirty minutes later, the request was denied without explanation.
Three hours later, in Denver, FLEB director Stanley Clinton was briefing executive council member Loretta Williams on the firebomb attack on Mars. Word had reached Earth via the big three Internet news stations long before it arrived through official channels. TRAGEDY ON MARS, it was being called, a name which was certainly not the catchiest the media had ever come up with, but which did convey the emotion that the Earthlings were feeling about the loss of ten FLEB agents quite well. The briefing was not a face-to-face one, as it were. Instead, they were accomplishing their meeting via secure Internet transmission from his office to hers.
'We have nothing,' he told her, shaking his head angrily. 'The Eden police chief has refused to allow our agents the use of their forensics unit or their manpower and the greenies... well, I don't think I have to tell you how much cooperation we're getting out of them. Hayes told me that three of the agents trying to question the crowd outside of that building were physically attacked.'
'Why didn't they haul some of those greenies in for questioning anyway?' Williams demanded. 'If nothing else, it would've at least shown those savages a thing or two about cooperation.'
Clinton carefully kept his expression neutral, despite the disgust he felt at having to explain the basics to this high-browed politician. 'Things are already quite volatile on that planet,' he said slowly. 'I believe that the commander on scene was afraid of forcing another confrontation.'
'Forcing another confrontation?' she asked. 'What is he, a coward? Did you not just tell me that there were thirty armed agents on the scene? Surely thirty agents could handle any trouble that a crowd of greenies could throw at them.'
'Yes,' he agreed, letting his composure slip just a bit. 'They could have handled it the way they did in New Pittsburgh during the riot.'
Williams did not seem to catch his drift however. 'Exactly,' she said. 'That's what we need more of on that planet. It's brutal, that's true, but by God, those agents firing into the crowd dispersed them, did it not?'
'It did,' he said quietly. 'And I've also had more than ten requests for psychological counseling as a result of it too. That's not to mention that the shooting in New Pittsburgh is probably what precipitated the firebombing of our agents this morning.'
'Common terrorists,' Williams almost spat. 'If you can't catch the ones directly responsible, you simply need to crack down harder on everyone else. You, as a career law enforcement officer, should know that, Clinton. Why do I have to call you up and tell you your job?'
He tried once again. 'With all due respect, ma'am,' he said. 'I will continue to follow your orders of course, but it is my belief that this process of cracking down on the common Martians is causing much more trouble than it's preventing. Every arrest that we make adds fuel to Laura Whiting's fire. Every confrontation between our agents
