By Wes Parish

I was called on my way to my office at about seven o'clock. "Milton Adebayo, I need to see you as soon as possible. There's been a shooting near Airlock 35; one death, though not the ordinary type of casualty."

I cursed. It was the Police Dept head. Wise men stay away from the police.

I called my wife at her office, "Oluremi, sweetheart, I've got to go see the Police. I'll be back as soon as possible."

She cursed as well, and much more thoroughly than I could.

***

The Police Department is in a cavern looking out over the Covered Valley. There are airlocks high on the Dome, but most of the airlocks are at ground level, and the Police Department sits near Airlock 12. Airlock 35 is on the wealthy side of the cavern.

The Police Department head stood in the foyer. "Milton, so glad you could come, you're the best Private Investigator I've got. This case is weird."

***

The fatality was Thomas Gunn, one of the earlier Mars-born. After the rifle had been fired, he had been discovered lying back against the wall in the techie-alcove just above the internal airlock entrance. His chest and backbone had been smashed; his lungs and heart had been crushed. It had taken him fifteen minutes to die.

The rifle had been found lying near him. It was Earth-made, a rare thing to find in any of the twelve Mars Colonies. The bullet had struck the airlock wall six metres above the airlock entrance. It was a 7.7 millimetre bullet and the rifle was a museum piece. Not what I'd thought people would've brought to Mars. Totally useless, except for killing people like this young man in the morgue.

***

Except he hadn't been killed by the bullet. He'd been killed by recoil, much more vicious under Mars' lesser gravity. He must've known that. Everything I saw on the local Net, and on the InterColony Net, about Thomas Gunn said he'd been an exemplary student, a widely respected, highly moral young man, and great things were expected of him.

I did however ask about the people using the airlock at that time, and got my first lead.

Miss Sue-Anna Dorothy Lee almost made me grind my teeth. She was the daughter of the current Colony Administrator, head of the Council of Administration, and she had propositioned me, in front of my wife. And then turned to her and said, "I won't keep him. But he's cute. I deserve some fun."

A year ago, and my wife still insisted on keeping a close eye on me.

***

I called her: "Oluremi, sweetheart, I've got to interview Miss Sue-Anna Dorothy Lee over this shooting. I won't stay."

"I could come along with you, if you wanted."

"Not at this moment. It's to do with this death, and why Thomas Gunn might've been using an Earth-made rifle possibly aimed at her, at about half six this morning."

She drew in her breath. "I see. Terrorism?"

"I doubt it. He doesn't seem that sort of person."

"Well, good luck, darling, and remember, if you don't come back, I'll come looking for you."

I laughed. She'd been a karate and judo expert back on Earth, and had won an Olympic medal in judo. Sue-Anna was Mars-born. She wouldn't stand a chance.

***

Miss Sue-Anna Dorothy Lee was out, according to her phone. I asked for friends' phone numbers, and got the same response. I did not want to approach her father — he and I were still not on speaking terms, after I'd made an impolite comment about overlong tenure, and delayed elections, and company towns ... but I must've caused some commotion somehow, somewhere, because my phone started ringing. It was her mother: "Mr Adebayo, I understand you've been trying to contact my daughter?"

"Yes. I want some information about her relationship with Thomas Gunn."

"Well, she's just got in. She's been at the hospital, though it's mostly for shock. The rifle firing as she was entering the airlock shook her quite a bit."

She paused, then said, "Darling, Mr Adebayo wants to talk to you."

Another pause, then a familiar voice came over the phone. "Mr Adebayo. What a pleasant surprise! I never thought I'd hear from you again, after your wife blew up at me that time!"

"Well, not my choice. What relationship did you have with Thomas Gunn?"

"Straight for the jugular, I see." She laughed. It sounded forced. "We never got it on, if you must know. He was as strait-laced as your wife! He drifted into politics about the time we became friends, and ... I should've known he'd end up like this."

"What do you mean?"

"He kept dragging up things about universal sufferage, human rights, you know the sort."

"Would it explain why he used an ancient Earth weapon?"

"How would I know? It couldn't have been a "crime of passion"! He refused me! Not the other way around!"

I grunted. She would be right in this.

"Still, if it might help, he said the last time I saw him, about three months ago, that he was intending a protest action against my father, like no other possible protest action."

***

When I called his friends, they all said the same thing; a protest action. And yes, Sue-Anna hadn't taken his refusal lying down. She had been after him. One of his female friends called her a stalker.

Everything seemed to add up. I put my head in my hands and sat for a long while, then dragged my courage out of its cellar, and called his mother. "Mrs Gunn, I regret to inform you that this morning, your son Thomas committed suicide by rifle recoil. It was in protest at the current administration, though we may need to investigate your son's diaries and anything he may have written."

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