holographic skin and made the victim much more real. The head blinked again and looked up at Linus, who half expected it to speak. He was profusely thankful that it didn't.
"Very lifelike," he said faintly. "You're clearly an artist."
"Thank you." Espinoza pulled a button out of the table and handed it to Linus. The head vanished, replaced by the skull. "Now you can take the image and this skull out of my studio."
Linus left quickly, the boxed skull under his arm and the image button in his wristwatch. Outside the transparent Dome, the warm sun shone high overhead. The newsfeeds would spread the image around, and maybe someone would recognize him, though it would mean putting someone in charge of fielding all the calls. It was also possible Hector Valdez had information about the victim's onboard by now as well. He was about to call the man and see when his stomach growled and he realized it was close to lunchtime. All of sudden, Linus didn't want to be alone, and he placed a call to look for company.
Noah rode the elevator to the fourth floor of the medical center, carrying a by-now familiar crime scene kit. A quick check with Dr. Fang had given him the name and location of last night's victim—Viktor Riza. The next several steps were routine whether Noah was on Earth or Luna, though Noah still found the process interesting. Mysteries were a jumble of evidence waiting to be sorted. It was as if Noah's baby brother Ken had scattered a jigsaw puzzle around their shared bedroom when they were kids, and Noah had to reassemble all the pieces. Except in this case, Noah didn't mind.
The top floor of the med center was given over to inpatient care. The med center itself was fairly small. Dr. Fang was the only full-time doctor for Luna City's five-thousand-odd residents, though she wasn't the only person who dispensed medical care. All homes were equipped with an autodoc that could handle many injuries and most illnesses. Nurses, medical technicians, and physicians' assistants handled most of what was left, leaving Dr. Fang surprisingly free to conduct research as well as oversee Luna City's medical community.
At the entrance to the patient ward, Noah showed his identification to the nurse on duty, and she led him toward Viktor Riza's room. The corridor, like all hospitals, smelled of cleaner and disinfectant.
"What kind of shape is he in?" Noah asked.
"Pretty good, considering," she said. "Official cause of death was drowning. He lost oxygen long enough to kill more than seven percent of his brain tissue. We regrew it, of course, but he still qualified as dead. He's retained most of his physical functions, but his speech is a little odd. He can't say the letter 'p,' for some reason. We'll be starting physical therapy with him as soon as he's recovered enough."
"How was he found?"
"A maintenance worker discovered him lying face-down in one of the fish ponds, half in and half out. No one else was around. The worker pulled the patient out and called for an emergency crew. The paramedics rushed him here on life support until the med techs could replace the damaged neural tissue with new stuff."
"What about his blood work?"
The nurse checked a monocle similar to Noah's. "He came back positive for tetrahydralocyathine," she said. "Blue. We're seeing a lot of that lately. Levels didn't seem to indicate he's an addict, but it was definitely enough to knock him out. It may have sped up his death, but we don't know for sure."
"You're getting a lot of Blue up here?" Noah said, surprised.
"Unfortunately," the nurse sighed. "It's easy enough to make, if you have a well-stocked chem lab, and lord knows we have plenty of those around."
Noah wondered how Linus would take this news, then decided the Chief probably knew already. He thanked the nurse and entered the hospital room. It looked the same as hospital rooms the world—galaxy?—over. Tiled floor, bits of machinery, window that looked out over the Dome. Viktor Riza occupied
"Very lifelike," he said faintly. "You're clearly an artist."
"Thank you." Espinoza pulled a button out of the table and handed it to Linus. The head vanished, replaced by the skull. "Now you can take the image and this skull out of my studio."
Linus left quickly, the boxed skull under his arm and the image button in his wristwatch. Outside the transparent Dome, the warm sun shone high overhead. The newsfeeds would spread the image around, and maybe someone would recognize him, though it would mean putting someone in charge of fielding all the calls. It was also possible Hector Valdez had information about the victim's onboard by now as well. He was about to call the man and see when his stomach growled and he realized it was close to lunchtime. All of sudden, Linus didn't want to be alone, and he placed a call to look for company.
Noah rode the elevator to the fourth floor of the medical center, carrying a by-now familiar crime scene kit. A quick check with Dr. Fang had given him the name and location of last night's victim—Viktor Riza. The next several steps were routine whether Noah was on Earth or Luna, though Noah still found the process interesting. Mysteries were a jumble of evidence waiting to be sorted. It was as if Noah's baby brother Ken had scattered a jigsaw puzzle around their shared bedroom when they were kids, and Noah had to reassemble all the pieces. Except in this case, Noah didn't mind.
The top floor of the med center was given over to inpatient care. The med center itself was fairly small. Dr. Fang was the only full-time doctor for Luna City's five-thousand-odd residents, though she wasn't the only person who dispensed medical care. All homes were equipped with an autodoc that could handle many injuries and most illnesses. Nurses, medical technicians, and physicians' assistants handled most of what was left, leaving Dr. Fang surprisingly free to conduct research as well as oversee Luna City's medical community.
At the entrance to the patient ward, Noah showed his identification to the nurse on duty, and she led him toward Viktor Riza's room. The corridor, like all hospitals, smelled of cleaner and disinfectant.
"What kind of shape is he in?" Noah asked.
"Pretty good, considering," she said. "Official cause of death was drowning. He lost oxygen long enough to kill more than seven percent of his brain tissue. We regrew it, of course, but he still qualified as dead. He's retained most of his physical functions, but his speech is a little odd. He can't say the letter 'p,' for some reason. We'll be starting physical therapy with him as soon as he's recovered enough."
"How was he found?"
"A maintenance worker discovered him lying face-down in one of the fish ponds, half in and half out. No one else was around. The worker pulled the patient out and called for an emergency crew. The paramedics rushed him here on life support until the med techs could replace the damaged neural tissue with new stuff."
"What about his blood work?"
The nurse checked a monocle similar to Noah's. "He came back positive for tetrahydralocyathine," she said. "Blue. We're seeing a lot of that lately. Levels didn't seem to indicate he's an addict, but it was definitely enough to knock him out. It may have sped up his death, but we don't know for sure."
"You're getting a lot of Blue up here?" Noah said, surprised.
"Unfortunately," the nurse sighed. "It's easy enough to make, if you have a well-stocked chem lab, and lord knows we have plenty of those around."
Noah wondered how Linus would take this news, then decided the Chief probably knew already. He thanked the nurse and entered the hospital room. It looked the same as hospital rooms the world—galaxy?—over. Tiled floor, bits of machinery, window that looked out over the Dome. Viktor Riza occupied
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