~~~~~~
Jack set his tray down next to the Inspector. His stomach grumbled. Jasmine set her tray next to Jack’s. He helped her unload it, and held her chair.
“Got frogs in your belly, Jack?” The Inspector sliced into a chicken fried steak. A bowl of jello sat next to a stack of empty bowls. His trench coat hung from an empty chair.
“Just starving,” he unloaded a feast from his tray. Deep fried catfish, okra, Caesar salad, a baked potato smothered in cheese and sour cream, jello, and a slice of coconut cream pie joined the Inspector’s steak and fries.
“Hello Inspector,” said Jasmine. “How is Betty doing?”
“She’s packing. We decided to beat the rush. She’s going ahead before they order us to leave.” He stuffed a fry in his mouth.
“I’m sorry, she has to drive alone,” said Jazz.
“She’s not going alone. Captain Barfly’s wife, Greta, and a couple of others are caravanning out of Nodlon tomorrow morning in the wee hours. I can’t leave anyway. I’ve got an open homicide investigation. The missus understands she’s a policeman’s wife. How about you guys?”
“I’m evacuating with the hospital staff tomorrow. I’m taking Shotgun’s fiancée, Goldie, and his daughters.”
“That reminds me,” said Jack. “I called Goldie, and gave her an update. She calmed down when I told her the doctor thinks he’s just sleeping. I’ll call her again later after we know more.”
Gumshoe closed his service, and took a sip from his water goblet. He pushed his chair from the table, leaned back, and steadied himself with an elbow.
“I’m responsible, no matter if he was poisoned or fell or just got sick.” He crossed his legs, and gazed down at his wingtips.
“He knew the risk, Gumshoe, and he wants to stop the murderer as much as we do. If New Gem is involved in the Zodiac cases, they think nothing of human lives. They’ll destroy anyone in their way like so much meat.”
“Yeah, they don’t care about the world inside.” Gumshoe scraped a speck of dirt from one of his soles.
“The world inside?” asked Jack.
“It’s old school, very old. There once was a great conversation between the great minds debating the philosophies, the music of the spheres, contemplating the rings of Saturn. The conversation died when the new age began.” He studied Clay for a moment, as if wondering if he understood.
“So one of the things they contemplated was the world inside each individual. One side believed inside each individual is a special and unique world. For them, the world inside was everything a man was from birth to death.
“Sorry for going on. An old colleague directed me to an article in a police journal when I was a cub. When a man dies prematurely, the world inside him ends. Not just the mechanics of living; eating, sleeping and working.
“No, his hopes and dreams vanish. All his parent’s hopes become dust. He never sees his children grow up. His loved ones will never again have his company for the rest of their lives.
“Certain deaths are understandable, even justified, by disease or accident or a meaningful risk. Other deaths are unjust. That’s why we hate homicide. It’s immoral. No one who dreams should be murdered. Intuitively we know it’s true even for biots. That’s why it’s against the law to murder or harm a biot.”
Jack’s caster blasted from his cloak. “Sorry,” he said, and he silenced the clamor. “It’s Nurse Casket,” he said avoiding Jazz’s irritated glare.
“Hello, any news on Shotgun?”
“Your man-servant is awake, Mr. Clay, and he’s asking for you.”
“We’ll be right there.” He closed the connection and slipped the caster back into his cloak.
“I’ll get some to-go boxes,” said Jazz.
Shotgun’s Findings
The emergency room buzzed with quiet efficiency. All of the bays seemed full, and a few patients slept in the hospital’s halls.
“Lunans,” said Jack. “Jazz said more were arriving.”
The detective scowled, “bad business, very bad.”
Nurse Casket spotted them before they reached Shotgun, and she grabbed a chart. She rushed over. “We still don’t have the test results,” said Casket tapping the chart. “All the monitors say he’s fine though. Dr. Forest put no restriction on visitors, but he’s not likely to release Mr. Morgan until we get those.”
“Can you check on those lab results?” asked Gumshoe. “And get a hold of Dr. Forest. If Shotgun can go, it’s imperative we expedite matters.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” said Casket.
“Please. Shotgun’s information may be critical to helping in a murder investigation. We need those lab results now.”
“I’ll let the lab know, sir.”
An elderly goblin called for help from a nearby bay. Casket hurried off to help.
Shotgun was awake, but he looked pale. “Did you catch the truck that hit me?” He propped himself on his elbows.
“As for you, young man,” said Gumshoe, “you gave this old man quite a fright. We think they slipped you a mickey, but we don’t know yet.”
“What’s happened while I was out?” asked Shotgun.
“While you were in dreamland,” said Jack, “rumors of war have frightened everyone into leaving Nodlon.”
“That doesn’t sound good.” Shotgun shook his head. “What about Goldie?”
“Goldie and the girls are going to Iron Mountain with Jazz.”
“Thanks, boss, for taking care of Goldie and the girls.”
“No problem, you’re family.”
“I need to call her and let her know where I am.”
“Goldie knows where you are. I called and gave her an update. She’s worried sick, but she calmed down after I told her you were sleeping. Want something to eat?” Jack asked. “We just tanked up at the cafeteria with Jasmine, and I’ve brought you the leftovers.” He offered Shotgun a couple of lunch boxes.
“Yeah, I’m famished.” Taking the containers and a package of plastic silverware from Clay, he opened them, and ate. “And you’re a good cook, too. I was starving.” He stuffed his mouth. “Can you hand me my caster? I’d like to call Goldie.”
Jack pulled Shotgun’s satchel off the back of a chair, and handed it to the dwarf.
“Boss, can I get some water?”
While the dwarf called his fiancée, Jack and the Inspector stepped outside the bay.
“Sugar plums,” cried Goldie. She burst into tears.
“Please stop crying,” cooed Shotgun.
“I’m sorry. I just missed you so much. I thought I might have lost you,” she sobbed.
“No way, sugar, I love you, and I can’t leave you and the girls now. Come on, the Inspector is here and we have to catch a killer. Be brave for me, will you?” Still sobbing, she nodded, and let him take his leave.
“Never seen her, this upset,” said Shotgun to Jack and Gumshoe.
“It’s not every day Nodlon may go to war,” said Jack, handing him a glass of water. “Everyone’s frightened. They abandon their routines. They all make a mad dash for the exits. Then, she finds out her fiancée is hospitalized while pursuing a bloodthirsty killer. It has to be hard.”
Gumshoe placed his hand on the bedrail. “Jack’s right, she’s doing well under the circumstances.”
The dwarf opened his satchel, and pulled out his tablet. “Let’s see what we’ve recovered.” Shotgun typed his password, and the little machine beeped.
Leaving him to his work for a few minutes, Gumshoe fidgeted, and Clay studied the monitors. The dwarf fiddled with his computer, closing and launching obscure applications, and running tests.
Nurse Casket stuck her head into the bay. “The doctor is on his way. He’s got the results from the lab.”