He jumped as a hand fell on his shoulder. When he looked up, he found himself staring into the eyes of Major Parnell. The Marine looked… emotionless, no pity or anger in his eyes.
“You’re nicked, my lad,” the Marine said. “We need to talk.”
“Yes, sir,” Kurt said. He looked at Rose. “Go put them through another training simulation.”
He allowed the Marine to lead him through the ship’s corridors and into Marine Country, where he was unceremoniously pushed into a small room. There was nothing inside, but a metal desk, a pair of chairs and a water cooler. The table was completely bare.
“Sit,” Parnell ordered. He strode around the desk and sat facing Kurt. “I said sit.”
Kurt sat. The chair was thoroughly uncomfortable.
“You’re in a right spot of bother,” Parnell said, bluntly. “The good news is that the Admiral and the Captain have agreed that you and your… lover will be offered a honourable discharge at the end of the deployment. Once discharged, any footage your friends might have of the pair of you will become about as worthless as a standard piece of voyeuristic crap.”
“Oh,” Kurt said. Having footage of a civilian caught in sexual acts on the datanet would be embarrassing for the victim, but hardly newsworthy. It was more than he’d dared hope for, which probably meant it came with a price. “And what is the catch?”
Parnell smiled. It didn’t touch his eyes. “The bad news is that you’ll be expected to do everything in your power to help us identify the people trying to blackmail you,” he said. “And I mean everything.”
He tapped the table. “I wish you’d brought this to us before we left Earth,” he added. “We could have followed up leads right there and then. Instead… we will only be able to focus on this ship and crew. Tracking down the people behind your friends will be tricky.”
“Yes, sir,” Kurt said.
“I know you probably weren’t thinking too clearly,” Parnell added. He jabbed a finger at Kurt to make his point. “You’d just been shocked badly. However, this is the time to think clearly. We are going to go over everything.”
He settled back in his chair. “You’re not under arrest,” he warned. “However, I am obliged to warn you of several things. This conversation will be recorded and it will be entered into the official investigative log. Should you be caught in a lie, it will be held against you when the Admiralty and MI5 consider your position. My very strong advice would be to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing, but the truth.”
He paused. “I suggest you pour yourself a glass of water,” he added. “This could take quite some time.”
Kurt nodded and obeyed. When he returned to his chair, Parnell had a datapad open in front of him and was skimming the pages, clearly looking for questions to ask. Or was he just pretending to be distracted? It was impossible to tell.
“First question, then,” Parnell said. “Precisely what happened on the day you were told that someone else had footage of your sex life?”
Kurt braced himself, then went through the entire story. Parnell was a good interrogator, he rapidly discovered; every time he was unsure about a detail, he asked questions until it was clarified to the best of Kurt’s ability. Kurt hadn’t realised how much he’d seen or heard until Parnell teased it out of him, although much of what he hadn’t realised he’d forgotten was largely useless. Fred’s identity was still a complete mystery.
“It sounds like a professional,” Parnell said. “Did you hear an accent?”
“No, sir,” Kurt said.
“Definitely a professional,” Parnell said. “You probably wouldn’t have noticed an accent if he worked his tones to sound like you. Chances are his face was the result of some cosmetic surgery too. He’d change again as soon as he left Luna City, making it impossible to track him down.”
Kurt swore. “Is it hopeless then?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Parnell said. “Where was the footage taken?”
“I think it was in Sin City,” Kurt said.
Parnell lifted his eyebrows. “And what were you doing in Sin City?”
Kurt glared at him. “What do people normally do in Sin City?”
“They don’t normally bring their partners,” Parnell pointed out.
“We wanted to share a hotel room without having to be discreet,” Kurt said. It had been a fine weekend, marred only by the fact they’d had to split up to return to the Academy. And by the fact the hotel manager kept offering to send a girl — or a boy — up to their room. “You know their reputation for secrecy.”
Parnell snorted. “That is a joke, right?”
“…Yes,” Kurt said.
“Tell me,” Parnell ordered. “How do you know the footage was shot in Sin City?”
Kurt took a breath. “It was the hotel room,” he said, firmly. “It wasn’t my office or quarters at Luna Academy.”
“There are — there were — no shortage of intelligence officers prowling through Sin City,” Parnell muttered. He glared down at the desk, then looked up. “How long did you spend there?”
“A weekend,” Kurt said. “We booked in Friday evening and left Sunday, mid-afternoon.”
“And where else did you go?” Parnell asked. “Or did you just stay there?”
“Yes,” Kurt said. They’d been reluctant to go anywhere else, knowing they might be seen by someone else from the Academy. “We ordered room service and stayed together.”
“She must really like you,” Parnell said. “Of course, losing Sin City means following up that angle of investigation won’t be easy.”
Kurt cursed. The aliens, deliberately or otherwise, had destroyed Sin City. Anyone who might have been involved in planting cameras in hotel rooms was probably dead.
“Maybe they did it deliberately,” he mused. “What if the blackmailers are working for the aliens?”
Parnell shrugged. “It seems unlikely,” he said. “They wouldn’t need to blow up Sin City to cover their tracks. All it would take is a knife in the back.”
He stood. “We’ll be doing this again tomorrow,” he added. “I suggest you make sure you free up some time on your schedule. We will be going over this time and time again until they actually get in touch.”
Kurt nodded, reluctantly. “Yes, sir,” he said.
Chapter Fifteen
“Wake,” an atonal voice said.
Henry jerked awake, his eyes snapping open. Four aliens stood in the prison cell, their massive eyes watching him warily. Three of them, he noted with some surprise, wore clothes that resembled wetsuits, while the fourth was as naked as always. Jill started — she’d cuddled up to him as they slept — and sat upright, no longer bothering to try to cover her breasts. It was all Henry could do to keep his body from betraying his awareness of her nakedness…
But then, being stared at by alien perverts would cool anyone’s lust, he thought, as he stood. The aliens had never entered the compartment while the humans were sleeping before, as far as he knew. I couldn’t perform under their gaze.
“Put. On,” one of the aliens said. It pointed to a large bag on the floor. “Now.”
Henry picked up the bag and opened it. Inside, there were a pair of masks attached to a set of canisters. It reminded him of the scuba gear he’d used as a child, before he realised that that was precisely what they were. If the aliens wanted him to swim outside the prison cell, they’d have to give him a source of breathable air as well as a mask. But… he looked up, through the transparent ceiling. Just how deep below the water were they? It was far too easy to imagine them being struck by the bends as soon as they reached the surface… and he had no idea how to explain the prospective danger to the aliens. All they could do was endure.