If it weren’t for the two by one metre viewport looking out to the stars, the interrogation room could have been straight out of the twentieth century. The bright lighting and cold metal table anchored to the centre of the room. Like most detectives in his circle, D.I. Loche had, more than a little, idolised the cop shows from that era.

Hell, most of their interrogation techniques were the same.

That’s how they ‘got’ Mi’hal. Half their playbook was from the Reid technique, and yet these morons, these criminals, still fall for it to this day, all the way out here, deep into the Solar System. I watched as they sat him in the room and interrogated him.

“Mi’hal, I like you, bud, but the files they found,” the detective leaned in close and put a faux-sympathetic arm on his shoulder. “It doesn’t look good for you, Mi’hal.” Mi’hal didn’t respond. “You gotta help us out here. We know you didn’t choose this, bud. Maybe they coerced you. Maybe you didn’t have a choice. Those folks are scary, bud. Anyone would have done it. It’s understandable.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did, Mi’hal. We know you did; they already have the evidence.”

“Maybe you meant to hurt those girls.” He stiffened. “Maybe that was your plan from the start, but maybe you never meant to do it, bud. Maybe things got too deep with your bosses, and then in the moment, one thing led to another, and people got hurt. You didn’t mean for them to get hurt, but it was hectic, all spur-of-the-moment stuff. Noone could blame you. You were just doing your job.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t, Mi’hal. Let’s clear up the details, so we can hear it from your perspective.

I paused the recording and switched the focus to room four. Mi’hal wasn’t important to them, but to our investigation, he was key. Sat in room four was the real man. My boss for the last three years in my undercover role. He sat, leaning back and looking skeezy. I had waited a long time to bring in this scum.

As I approached room four, my fingers trembled giddy and nervous. I keyed in the unlock code and the door whooshed. Parker looked shocked to see me walk into the room. His face settled into a smile, but dropped when he noticed my badge.

“Loche.”

“It’s D.I. Loche.”

“Well, detective, it’s nice to see you again, but I think I’ll be off now.”

“I’m sure you’d like that, Mr. Parker. But I gotta say, after three years working security for the dullest, dumbest folk I ever had the displeasure of working for; after all the lying and underhanded tactics I used to climb ranks, wading through the filth of your company, I just have one question. Who do we have in the next room?”

A flash of concern.

“It’s Mi’hal.”

His face dropped. There are no cells in deep space.