“Reverb believes in the sanctity of life,” Konstantin assured me.
“So you’re saying that he’s not capable of killing anyone,” I surmised.
“Such an act is beyond him. He would rather die than take an innocent life.”
“Didn’t feel that way when he spoke while I was in the room,” I countered.
“Reverb knows precisely how to vocalize in order to take or preserve life,” Konstantin insisted. “If you think he was careless in that regard, then I would say it begs the question of whether you are ‘innocent.’”
Ignoring his jibe, I asked, “Don’t you find it ironic that a guy who can kill with a word holds life in such high regard?”
“It is precisely because he can so casually take life that he reveres it so.”
In short, Reverb’s innocence was beyond doubt as far as Konstantin was concerned. Furthermore, like Gearbox, he had no clue as to who would want to murder Gamma, who was involved, or what had happened to Cerek. Finally, he was just as adamant as his robotic colleague in the belief that Cerek would never cause injury to the Chomarsus he served. That said, I did detect a slight bit of nervousness when we discussed the missing laamuffal.
I next spoke with Sayo, but had few questions for her since we had previously spoken. However, there was one thing I had been curious about.
“When we first met,” I said, “you correctly identified my quarters and Rune’s. How did you know the difference?”
“They’re marked,” she replied. “As an Incarnate, the Inscrutable’s private chambers are distinctly identified. However, I don’t think the designation is conspicuous to those whose vision hasn’t been augmented.”
“Hmmm,” I droned. “Are you saying that laamuffals can perceive things outside the normal range of vision?”
“Of course. It’s a gift, but also makes it easier for us to render service.”
“What other gifts are provided to laamuffals?”
“It depends on the Incarnate, as well as the respective duties of the servant. Certain tasks may require excessive strength, or a keen ear, or a sharp eye.”
“Do you know what gifts Cerek would have had?”
“Unfortunately, no,” she replied, but — as when we had spoken in my quarters — I started picking up on nervousness and anxiety.
“Do you have any idea what happened to him?”
“No,” she said tersely.
Additional questions about Cerek produced responses along the same lines, with Sayo — despite broadcasting uneasiness emotionally — essentially toeing the party line by expressing the belief that Cerek would never have harmed Gamma.
Next was Albion, who served Static. He was about my height, but slimmer, with dark shoulder-length hair that was tied in a ponytail. I put his age at around forty, but it was difficult to tell because — in addition to a gray five o’clock shadow — he had wrinkles and bags around his eyes that gave me the impression that he hadn’t slept in weeks. As expected, he had nothing but nice things to say about his boss, but I couldn’t help but notice that, in addition to being emotionally jumpy (like Sayo and Konstantin), he seemed to be visibly nervous and unable to hide it.
“Static is, uh, w-w-wonderful,” he stammered. “Wonderful, truly.”
“Can you see him committing murder?” I asked.
Albion shook his head emphatically. “N-n-no. Never. Absolutely not.”
I frowned. Despite their anxiety, I had detected sincerity in the responses given by Sayo and Konstantin. Albion, however, was so keyed up that it was difficult to discern how truthful he was being.
The same was true with respect to his comments about Cerek, a topic which made him particularly skittish. Like the others, however, he couldn’t envision Gamma’s laamuffal harming her in any way. Ultimately, feeling that there wasn’t much new to be gained from him, I brought our conversation to an end. That left me with one last servant to speak with: Ursula.
“Alone at last,” she coyly remarked as she came into the room and took a seat.
I chuckled. “I thought you’d be more inclined to say that I’d saved the best for last.”
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” she said with a shrug. “So how goes the investigation?”
“Difficult,” I admitted. “I haven’t been able to eliminate any suspects.”
“My fellow laamuffals weren’t able to assist with that?”
“They all insisted that their respective Incarnates couldn’t have done it, and that Cerek wouldn’t do anything to hurt Gamma.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe them?”
“They seemed sincere,” I stated, “but also apprehensive.”
“Can you blame them? Even innocent people get nervous when they have to talk to the cops.”
I frowned. “But I’m not a cop.”
“Sure you are,” Ursula insisted. “You’re here investigating a murder, identifying suspects, questioning witnesses. That’s Cop Procedure 101. The only thing missing is a trench coat and a partner to trade witty banter with.”
“That last would be Rune,” I said, smiling. “Although the witty banter is a work in progress.”
“Plus he’s still a suspect,” she reminded me. “Although, now that I think about it, there’s at least two suspects you should be able to scratch off your list.”
I leaned forward, intrigued. “Who?”
“Static, for starters.”
“Why?” I asked. “Because Gamma was his mother?”
“You don’t think that carries any weight?”
I shrugged. “Not every parent-child relationship is great. Until very recently, I thought I hated my father.”
Ursula looked at me in shock, but it was a true statement. My father, Alpha Prime, had been a no-show for most of my life. Because of that — and other reasons — I’d wanted nothing to do with him, but our relationship had undergone a vast improvement recently.
“Before you go there,” I continued, “I had no plans to kill him, but you wouldn’t have found me wailing at his funeral if something had happened to him.”
“And now?”
I sighed. “I accidentally called him ‘Dad’ a few days ago.” This caused Ursula to immediately start giggling. “Anyway, who’s the other person you think deserves a get-out-of-jail-free card?”
“Endow, of course,” she declared matter-of-factly.
I didn’t even bother hiding my skepticism. “Why am I not
