To Trade the Stars by Julie E. Czerneda

The short, stout, almost placid-looking woman before him was never, ever to be underestimated.
    Perhaps she thought the same of him, getting right to the point. “‘There’s been an incident on Plexis.”
    Morgan had considered numerous possibilities, but this was a surprise. “Plexis? What’s that to do with me? We haven’t been back in months.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “Huido? He’s all right, isn’t he?”
    â€œAs far as I know. ‘Whix? Get the report from Plexis security for the Captain.” As the Tolian moved over to a wall console, Bowman continued: “We don’t get involved in criminal investigations, as you know. There are, however, certain individuals we prefer to—” She paused, as if looking for a polite word.
    â€œTo spy on,” Morgan supplied helpfully. “Why Huido? He lives in that restaurant. Mind you, he’s picky about sharing his recipes, but I’m sure if you asked—”
    â€œWe weren’t watching your friend. After the regrettable lack of cooperation we encountered from Plexis last year, I instituted a regular sweep through their security system—to notify us of anything which might be of concern to the Trade Pact.” Morgan grinned at that, having experienced firsthand the pompous secretiveness of Plexis’ head of security, Inspector Gregor Wallace. Bowman didn’t quite smile back. “A recent sweep triggered an alert. A name of interest came up—associated with a murder investigation presently underway on the station.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œNaes Fodera. You do remember it?”
    Morgan eased his weight more to his feet, careful not to make the instinctive move obvious enough to stir Terk’s interest. No gain pretending he didn’t know. “Fodera was on Sira’s list. A Human telepath.”
    â€œThe only Human telepath from that list unaccounted for,” Bowman added, all trace of good humor vanishing from her face. “As you’ll recall, two refused the Clan’s offer to take part in certain—experiments. One of those, Matthew Jodrey, was subsequently kidnapped and tortured to death by your old friend Ren Symon. The other, Fodera? Like Symon, Fodera simply disappeared from sight, despite our best efforts to track him down. Until now.”
    Morgan concentrated on keeping his face expressionless, using even more effort to keep his reaction to that name, Ren Symon, from boiling across his link to Sira. He’d put his desire for vengeance, that rage, behind him. Or so he’d thought. “Where is he?”
    Bowman made her own decision as to which “he” Morgan meant. “Fodera, or what’s left of him, currently resides in a sample vial on Plexis. Oh, and I believe there’s a bit of him hanging in a freezer. Seems your friend Huido was trying to dispose of the body in the same memorable way he disposed of that Clansman.”
    Morgan didn’t bother to protest—if Bowman went after an answer, she’d dig for it until the answer gave up. Obviously, uncovering Huido’s and Barac’s earlier indiscretion hadn’t bothered the Sector Chief, her focus always on what disturbed the balance of the Trade Pact, not crime.
    Even if it were murder. “Does Plexis think Huido killed Fodera?”
    â€˜Whix offered Morgan a data cube. “Here is what they know—and don’t know. Thus far, Captain Morgan, there is no motive, very little body, and nothing to prove this was more than a misguided attempt to recycle protein. If there hadn’t been an informant, a disgruntled former chef, there would likely be no case at all.”
    â€œAll moot. The investigation has been declared within my official interest. Plexis will keep their hands off.” Bowman’s tone contained a confidence Morgan, knowing the station from a somewhat different viewpoint, didn’t share.
    â€œThis is the real