1

Scene 3 continued: Meanwhile, back in Technopolis...

The police wonder; others make plans.

Late afternoon in the Technopolis Police and Law Enforcement Building, overlooking the Technopolis Harbor on the Intracoastal Waterway.

Detective Sabrina Phillips tapped on her Visi-screen, hoping maybe by roughing it up it could finally pop up some answers.

She looked over at Renfrue who was sipping soda and also staring at his Visi-screen. It might be too much to ask, but she was hoping he might also be looking for answers.

She felt weary. “I just don’t get it. Everyone was sure it was food poisoning yesterday, but today, everyone is fine and heading off to another catered party by the very caterer who could be conspiring to bring Technopolis’s society to its knees.” Renfrue laughed at the thought of all those guys in tuxes on their knees in the men’s room.

“Still, the lab comes up with nothing definitive. Not anything they can point to.”

Renfrue put his soda down, refreshed, and said to his screen, “Maybe Sundance – Utah sounds good.” He scrolled though beautiful snowy pictures of ski trails in mountains that had to be the very antithesis of the flat, hot Florida coast.

Sabrina glared at his unresponsive face, which was usually absorbed by anything but police business. His latest obsession was what he would do when he retired in nine months. Most of his schemes included something with ice and snow and freezing temperatures in it. But he had considered the beaches of Tahiti and starting a salmon farm in the Northwest. Seattle, maybe.

Sabrina said to her screen, knowing that Renfrue was a virtually empty space, “I wonder what caused the poisoning. Bacteria the lab report says,” pointing to the portion of the split screen that showed the forensics reports.

“Think I’m too old to take up skiing?” Renfrue asked. “ I bet I could do it. I used to work out.”

He finished his soda and tossed the empty can into the recycle bin. He did his bit for the environment.

“But they are not sure what kind of bacteria. Never seen it before. What’s that about?” She tapped the screen and took a sip of coffee.

Renfrue answered, “Maybe I should stick to cross-country skiing. Easier on the old knees.”

“One thing, though,” Sabrina went on. “They do say it wasn’t in the food, but I think it’s too much of a coincidence. Food poisoning comes from food, so I think we need to take a closer look at that caterer.”

“All the hot toddies after a ski run you can drink. All the beautiful babes in tight sweaters you can…”

“Renfrue, you are a dog!” barked Sabrina. “You can sit here daydreaming and pretending there is no major crime out there, but I am going to lab to see if I can pick up something.”

“Hey, Pard, just make sure it isn’t that bacteria you pick up. Har, har. ”

When she didn’t smile and put on her coat, he added, “I’m going to talk to a travel agent.”

Meanwhile, in another part of Technopolis, in the labs of Galactron Industries.

Achille Orlandi fiddled with a beaker he wanted to use for more tests. He half listened to the basso profundo voice coming about the Visi-phone, which he had on speaker, demanding what went wrong last night.

He wiped the beaker with a clean rag and put it on the table next to a well-protected vial on the counter. He muttered to himself, “What went wrong? These fools! They think I, Achille Orlandi, master of chemistry, biology, and specialmente, the foods! does not know what he is doing?”

From the speaker came, “What’s that you say? Turn this damned thing up at your end. I can’t hear a damned thing!”

Mordecai:  “I didn’t want it to happen at Tech U. Wrong place, wrong time.”

Achille: But they will have gone. Our door of opportunity, she is closing…”

“Window. You mean window of opportunity is closing,” Mordecai automatically corrected him. This guy was annoying.

“I say again, I do not know what went wrong. They, these little cosi, are causing me agita. I did not know they would be so … so … unruly!”

“Besides,” said the deep voice, aggrieved, “it was not suppose’ta happen last night. Not at Technopolis U. That was a big mistake,” he growled.

“Ehhh. I only want to experiment a little. These little… things… germs… do not behave themselves. I saw that at the reception. I must try again.”

“Damn right you’ll try again. This time, you gotta get it right, or it will be curtains for you.”

“I do not understand ‘curtains.’”

“Get it done!” bellowed the voice.

“Ahhh! Basta!” Achille fiddled with the top securing the vial. “I need more time! I, Achille Orlandi, cannot be rushed!”

“You don’t have time for more experimenting,” said the voice. “It has to be done tonight. In the evening. When the yacht docks in Technopolis Harbor. It has to be done on Prescott’s watch.”

“Yes, yes, there will be the rush, I will use more, much more of the little germs, but there is something… how you say… misterioso why these little cosi lose the will to live in our atmosphere.”

“Tonight!” Was all he heard before the connection was broken off.

“Basta!” said Achille Orlandi to the speaker.

Samuel Mordecai, Sr., thought over his options. This guy, this Dr. Achille Orlandi, was a genuine genius at this chemical stuff. World class. So he made a few tactical mistakes. Most people did. That was where CEOs come in. Strategy. Tactics. Keep the enterprise afloat and focused on task, with the Big Picture always in view. And there were bigger things coming. He needed Achille. Maybe it was time for a come-to-Jesus meeting with the good research doctor. Spell out the Big Picture. Where it was all going.

At the forensic labs in the large Technopolis Terrorism Team section of the Technopolis Police and Law Enforcement Building.

Sabrina spoke to an older man with a meticulously maintained moustache wearing a starched white lab coat over his khaki pants and blue shirt.

“I know you put everything in the report for the record, but the whole thing still puzzles me.” The man looked bored.

“It’s just that I thought maybe you’d remember something… something that perhaps,” she said as delicately as should, not wanting to shut him down, “…perhaps something that wouldn’t be easy to put into words. On a report, I mean.”

The lab technician was offended anyway. “Are you suggesting I wasn’t thorough? I’ll have you know…”

“No, no,” said Sabrina quickly. “I just meant, sometimes there are small details that don’t add up to anything.”

“Well. That’s clearer.” He paused until he made his decision. “All right. There was something. But I warn you, it will sound crazy.”

“Try me,” said Sabrina with a little hope.

“We found something similar, just a trace, mind you, in someone who came back from Eagle’s Landing, the Moon colony. Just last month. Almost a month to the day.”

Sabrina wanted to hurry him up but knew when to keep quiet. Witnesses and perps hate silence and rush to fill the void.

He went on. “It was strange, but it was nothing threatening. We decided it would sound crazy to include it.”

The technician smiled like he wanted to talk about his favorite old Star Trek episode but thought  better of it.

Although it looked like it hurt him to smile, he smiled again and said, “Besides, it couldn’t have been anything illegal, like cigarettes, or anything noxious like that, because this is a crimeless city and who would try to move illegal things into Technopolis? Certainly not from the Moon, the most protected and secure place in the universe.

“And if they did? We’d have the Khaki Avenger all over it,” he said with a derisive laugh.

Sabrina perked up at the reference to the Khaki Avenger. She had heard about him since coming here from Miami. No one, not in law enforcement anyway, took him seriously. They dismissed him as just another urban legend.

 “This is beginning to sound like a Crime and Punishment episode,” she said on her way out.

“But thanks.”