(honestly, this is the project from my 2013 NaNoWriMo attempt.) (this is a canned posting, scheduled in advance, as all will be for the next long while. Little gifts to remind the world I walked upon it)
The rattle of bone and ceramic chime tubes, amid the hiss of the compressed air shifting them, forced Mike Halzon to open an eye, checking which alarm demanded attention. He felt the left corner of his mouth quirking upwards, once his eyes focused, noting the chimes on his side still swayed as the alarm stilled, waiting for an answer.
"Work?" Candace's tired voice barely reached his mind. A pile of comforters on her side of the bed explained the muffled tone, and the chill he'd been fighting. Cold fall mornings left him frequently wondering if sleeping bags would be better, even if they made cuddling before getting up difficult.
Before Mike could answer, the alarm rattled again, accompanied by the chatter of his Braille display activating with a message. Normally, the night-watch over in the Carson Confederal Office Complex let you have a cup of coffee before sending such.
"Guess so, honey, and sounds like they have their suspenders snapping too." The only nice thing about his wife stealing most of the blankets in their nightly war was being mostly ready for getting out of bed and facing the chilled apartment air. "And, looks like the super is skimping on the heat again." He shivered.
"Tightwad Scrooge. Not even Christmas, and he's lump pinching." His wife held a low opinion of those who cut corners to make a penny.
"Yeah. Good thing I managed to find that kerosene heater. Want me to fire it up?" Teeth gritted, blankets swiftly tossed aside, Mike's hand searched for his pants. Looking at the far wall, where the Braille Teletype stood, chattering again, he hurried. "Awfully urgent. Hope it's not a child abduction." The worst cases any law enforcement officer dealt with, those against the young, set nerves on edge and left trigger fingers itchy. A recent rash in all the Republics of such crimes, and the many officer involved shooting deaths of suspects as well as actual perpetrators, had the watch desk waking the Agent on call a bit excessively, but Mike would rather be involved for both the innocent and the guilty. Some times a police force swept things under the carpets, for their reputations, rather than did the full job.
Luck had it a full moon night, giving him the ability to easily find both the flow control and ignition sparker on the gaslight over his desk. Giving the flame a chance to settle down after the first flare inside the clear glass globe he preferred for lighting, his fingers ran over the top line of the display.
"You have to be kidding me." It slipped out, with a chuckle.
"Not a kid?" Candace stuck her head out. She liked the cases that made her husband l;augh. Those rarely involved funerals of people they knew, or long absences from home.
"They found a body, this cannot be right. Telefrophones tubed are only and inch wide. Getting a body inside one is impossible!" Shaking his head, he started the search for his reading spectacles, a sure sign he was getting older, besides the grey hairs his teen-aged daughters and job were competing over which gave him more of.
"Worker? It must be one of the echo switch rooms or something." Candace's own work with the Confederation Communications Normalization Agency, making sure all nineteen Republics in the Confederated Republics of America used compatible equipment for relaying information. Which, given the Johnny Reb attitudes of the southeastern republic, often left her exhausted and frustrated. Not to mention the multitude of communications companies and their varying technologies, patents, and territories.
"Not sure. Looks like I need to hustle out into the land of Deseret and catch that southbound Carman trolley. If I can find my boots." One last run of his fingers across the body of the message confirmed the address. A yank of the handle on the left side imprinted the Braille characters onto a call card for his records, and then he cleared the board. "Clear text message, so not some security scare, like that zeppelin incident a few months ago."
"Don't mean a thing, honey. You know my agency gets the call first on anything dealing with the teletype and sonophone tubes." Arms stretched out from her well insulated side of the bed, she yawned. "Then we dump it on you investigative types, waiting for you to do all our paperwork for us. And your boots are on the warmer over there."
Chimes ringing on her side the bed, and the groan they elicited from his wife as the reader board spoke with slow chuffs of air and clicks as the ceramic pegs locked into place one at a time. Grabbing his boots, he laced them up swiftly. "I'll remember that, and make sure I leave a lot of things out of my report, so you have to retype it, babe."
Ducking the pillow Candace threw at him, Mike left the room, stopping in the kitchen to light the stove, and set the coffee pot on for the rest of the family. He'd hope to hit one of the cafe's for a cup once in the Sugarhouse township area.
"Honey, there was a second page to your text." Candace roamed in as he bundled up for the chilly November air. "Something about details on the body."
Mike smiled, so happy he had a wife that looked out for him and the family. "Thanks. Your call the same thing?"
Her grimace said it all. "Yes. And we have a meeting immediately. Seems this sonotube was not on any lists. And it is still connected to the system."
"Clerical error or missed work order?" Given the motivation employees held under the restrictions on outside lives companies exercised here locally, and in other republics, such a miss was common.
"Not sure. You do your job, let me do mine. But, thanks. I forgot clerical errors as a possibility." Candace grimaced.
"Blame it on the coffee, I'll be your alibi." Mike laid a kiss on her cheek. "Leave a note for the girls?"
Candace shook her head. "No, my meeting is not until eight. I'll get them up and march them over to the post school."
Nodding, Mike headed out, hoping the Deseret Border Guard had the alert that a Confederal Investigator was headed out. Otherwise, he'd be much later at the crime scene.
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