Freeze Effect

By Chris Towndrow

2071. SpaceFleet have begun construction of the first Galaxy Class vessel.

One key decision remains – will it be fitted with cryogenic pods, allowing tourist passengers to sleep through the long weeks to Jupiter, or will it be furnished like a cruise ship, with luxuries and entertainment galore?

When the independent cryogenic feasibility study experiences excess failures, Tom and the team at Fleet PD begin to investigate.
Their hands are already full with a murderous outburst at the Moon’s vessel construction site, and the apparently professional killing of a fellow cop who may have uncovered secrets about the project.

Enna – back at work as a SpaceFleet Navigator – reluctantly agrees to help out for a couple of days.
Then events take a very personal turn, and the stakes for Enna and her colleagues reach life-or-death.

Powerful people are once again in her sights.

The fourth book in the Enna Dacourt series draws her unwillingly - and unwittingly - back into a fight for truth. A cold, hard truth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Towndrow
• Release date: Feb 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005729585

Chris Towndrow

Chris Towndrow has been a writer since 1991.He began writing science fiction, inspired by Asimov, Iain M Banks, and numerous film and TV canons. After a few years creating screenplays across several genres, in 2004 he branched out into playwriting and has had several productions professionally performed. This background is instrumental in his ability to produce realistic, compelling dialogue in his books.His first published novel was 2012’s far-future, post-war space opera “Sacred Ground”. He then changed focus into Earth-centric, near-future sci-fi adventures, and the Enna Dacourt pentalogy was completed in 2023. In a similar vein, “Nuclear Family” was a venture into post-apocalyptic fiction.He has always drawn inspiration from the big screen, and 2019’s quirky romantic black comedy “Tow Away Zone” owes much to the films of the Coen Brothers. This spawned two sequels in what became the “Sunrise trilogy”.His first historical fiction novel, “Signs Of Life”, was published by Valericain Press in 2023. With a number of excellent reviews, this Western romance has been his most popular title.In 2023, Chris returned to his passion for writing accessible humour and will devote his efforts to romantic comedies. Three such scripts are currently in development.Chris lives on the outskirts of London with his family and works as a video editor and producer. He is a member of the UK Society of Authors.

Book preview

Freeze Effect

Freeze Effect

Enna Dacourt Book 4

Chris Towndrow

Valericain Press

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Copyright © 2022 by Chris Towndrow

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

Valericain Press

Richmond, UK

www.valericainpress.co.uk

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Freeze Effect / Chris Towndrow. -- 2023 ed.

Paperback: 979-8420730683

Saturday 05.07.2071

New York, NY.

Three gunshots lit up the quiet air and rippled out across the oasis of green at Cypress Hills.

Kennet Carlsson hung his head, reflecting.

Mankind moving forward—the march of technology, the prevalence of laser pistols, a colony on the Moon which hung in the blue afternoon sky—was inevitable. Yet traditions, even those marking grief and loss, are comforting in their continuity. Still, they don’t bring back people who have been taken before their time. They offer deference but can’t explain man’s inhumanity to man. They connect past and present yet cannot alter the future and make it less dangerous for a police officer to ply his duty.

Duty comes with risks; they all knew that. Perhaps, as a small-town cop in rural Sweden, Kennet had been more protected from nefarious elements than his colleagues. Nevertheless, danger had come to his doorstep in the past.

Now, it had veritably battered down the door and caused the ultimate collateral damage.

The coffin was lowered into its resting place.

Yards away, an ashen-faced widow clutched her friend.

Kennet had a lot to thank Jay DeLeo for. The man’s absence on his first day in New York had surely been at Fate’s command, such that Kennet could meet Detective (as she was then) Kayte Connors, strike up a rapport, and quickly develop an enduring professional and personal relationship.

Kennet felt a hand on his shoulder. He glanced across. Her cheeks were red, eyes wet.

He squeezed her upper arm. Had they not been in uniform and standing amongst other pressed Blues and polished badges, he might have clasped her hand. With her wife Carey absent, he felt sure nobody else here would offer such proximate support. He knew Kayte was steeling herself—remaining decorous in such a formal setting. Jay was her ranking superior but also a friend. Unarguably, Mrs DeLeo had lost infinitely more.

Kayte was tough as nails yet very human. Here, at the Police Cemetery in Brooklyn, she was a cop. Later, when there wasn’t a front to maintain, she’d allow herself to be more vulnerable.

Kennet had done his grieving back home, after the call had come through and in the few days before he’d taken the transatlantic SkyRun. He was a more one-dimensional person than Kayte, less prone to outbursts of anger or despair. Still, he wasn’t sure whether remaining on a more even keel was always a good thing. She called it his Swedish Reserve.

They got each other. Hanging out was always either efficient collaboration, good-natured personable company, or both. All the same, he’d happily have skipped this occasion. Watching a fellow cop be put in the ground was a poor way to spend a bright September Saturday.

He’d drifted off, and the rite was now concluding.

Close by, a couple of dozen of NYPD’s finest broke ranks.

Kayte blew out a breath and composed herself.

‘Okay?’ she asked him.

‘I know it comes to us all, which makes it something to be sober about. So, I am okay, but I will be more okay when we find out who killed your friend. Because Jay was a good cop, and justice is better than tears.’

She brushed her eye. ‘One down, one to go.’ She gave a faint smile.

Tom and Enna walked over, arms linked. He wore his Fleet PD uniform, and she her Fleet blues with the Lieutenant stripes. Kennet found it odd to see her back in the garb she’d worn when they’d first met two and half years earlier. Her Fleet PD adventure had been over for a while, yet the colour in her cheeks showed she’d spent enough time in Jay DeLeo’s company to miss him almost as much as Kayte did.

The poor guy had sometimes taken comebacks and wisecracks in stereo.

Kennet had seen Tom on a couple of occasions in the last six months, but Enna had been a stranger to Fleet PD’s Washington office—too busy with duties at home.

They embraced lightly.

‘How’s Lexie?’ he asked.

‘Sleeping through now. What a mercy.’

‘You look very well on many sleepless nights.’

‘It’s the uniform, Kennet. Could make anyone presentable.’

‘And it fits, too,’ Tom added, a twinkle in his eye.

Enna gave him a gentle thump. ‘When a gal has a man and a job she loves, she needs to keep both, so she’s been in the home gym—when Lexie has let me—to get match fit again.’

‘First tour tomorrow, huh?’ Kayte said.

‘Time to slip the surly bonds of Earth and dance the skies on laughter-silvered wings.’

‘And hopefully not throw up through lack of high-G practice,’ Tom said.

‘Being away from this,’ Enna thumbed at her beau, ‘Will be the highlight.’

The much-needed good humour was broken by the approach of someone Kennet was less familiar with. They’d met on Comlink but not in person.

He offered his hand. ‘Not ideal circumstances, but good to see you, Han.’

The young Asian nodded and took the handshake. Kennet found the grip light and reserved. ‘It is not a nice way to start my time at Fleet PD, that is true. I get the feeling I have missed out on knowing a fine colleague.’

Kayte fell sombre. ‘Sometimes we need a reminder why we do this. To stop preventable losses.’

‘Maybe we don’t need the reminders. Not ones like this. But we get them anyway,’ Tom said.

‘Besides, Fleet PD is mostly desk work,’ Enna added. ‘Jay was NYPD. You didn’t sign on for a rollercoaster like that, Han. No streets to pound. Plus, you’ve got these good folks to watch your back.’

‘Some of whom will fly across the world to help out.’ Kayte shot Kennet a look. ‘Even when they were asked nicely not to bother.’

‘I think the expression is wild horses, no?’ Kennet waved it away. ‘How’s Ellie?’ he asked Tom.

‘Drinking Cancun dry, the last I heard. Drowning sorrows.’

‘Shame Wes threw the baby out with the bathwater,’ Enna said. ‘He was a good… nerd.’

‘I hope I will be able to fill his nerdy shoes to at least a satisfactory degree.’ Han gave a rare smile.

Kennet noticed someone hovering nearby—a civilian, maybe reticent about approaching a group of uniforms, especially on such an occasion. He stepped over, encouraging her to speak up. In a moment, Kayte was beside him—probably sensing it wasn’t his job, as the European arm of Fleet PD, to field questions or even condolences about the loss of an American police officer.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt.’ The woman was late thirties, had deep red hair cut in a bob, high cheekbones, and wore a long dark jacket.

‘Can I help?’ Kayte’s expression betrayed that the woman was a stranger

‘Did you work with Sergeant DeLeo?’

‘He was my boss. Not so long ago.’

‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

‘Thanks. How did you know him?’

The woman shook her head. ‘Not at all. Not like that. I saw him at the gym sometimes. He was… a good guy.’

‘He was,’ Tom agreed, joining the conversation.

‘Then, good of you to come,’ Kayte said.

‘I wanted to see if there was any news about what happened to him. If you knew who was behind it?’

‘That’s confidential.’

Kennet knew that was code for the fact the murder hadn’t been solved.

‘Why, do you have any information?’ Tom asked.

It wasn’t Tom’s case—it wasn’t even Fleet PD’s—but they were more than invested in finding out the background to Jay’s death. Kennet hoped the woman might be a much-needed lynchpin.

‘No, not as such. I was worried, is more the case,’ she replied.

‘How come?’

The woman checked around them, but there were no prying ears. Most people had drifted away.

‘Like I say, I knew Jay from the gym. A year or so back, he helped me out when my ex was leaving threatening messages.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Sorted that asshole out.’ She glanced at the group. Enna and Han had clustered around.

‘Go on,’ Kayte said.

‘A friend of mine came to me a couple of weeks ago. Her cousin recently took his own life. Abroad. Denmark. She thought it was all fishy. She wanted to see what I reckoned. I said, speak to Sergeant DeLeo—’cos he’d helped me out. A friendly cop, you know?’

Kayte nodded, swallowed down emotion. ‘He was.’

‘So she talked to him. And now he’s dead and….’ The woman closed her eyes. ‘And Natasja, my friend, is… missing. Or, I haven’t seen her. And I would. And she’s not answering her Com.’

‘Is that unlike her?’ Tom asked.

‘Very.’

‘Did she mention what Jay—Sergeant DeLeo—had said?’

The woman shrugged. ‘He said he’d take it up with SpaceFleet.’

‘Fleet?’ Enna perked up.

‘Natasja thought she was getting the brush off from Fleet. What happened to Jonas didn’t make sense.’

Kennet held up a hand. ‘Jonas? Jonas Elke?’ Disbelief bounced through his brain.

The woman’s brow furrowed. ‘Yes.’

His shoulders fell. ‘I’m investigating that case. Natasja’s concerns came through on my file. One of Jay’s colleagues must have caught up on his notes.’

‘What concerns?’ Tom asked.

The woman held his gaze for a second before she deemed it safe to proceed. ‘Jonas committed suicide—I think that’s not needing much investigation, but we—I mean Nat—was trying to find out the reason. She said he’d taken a space flight, and it… changed him. Brought him down. That’s why he went back home, to Copenhagen. For… space—I mean headspace and open space, not, you know, space.’

‘So, how could Jay help?’ Kayte asked.

‘By speaking to Fleet. You know they have a Fit To Fly test? Well, Nat said that Jonas was so worried before his flight, in case he didn’t pass, but he did. Then after Jonas… died… she called up Fleet to see if anything happened on his trip which could have unbalanced him mentally. I wondered about problems on that flight. Or maybe he was ill, disturbed. Fleet said no, but they were aware that his Fit To Fly was borderline.’ Her eyes widened. ‘Only it wasn’t. It was clean. That’s why Nat wanted to speak to your… friend. She thinks Fleet told her a lie. And now she’s missing.’

‘Let me get this straight. They spoke, Jay is dead, and she is missing?’ Kayte pinched her lower lip.

The woman eyed them all. ‘That’s what it seems. So if there’s something you know about Sergeant DeLeo, please tell me.’

Saturday 05.07.2071

Point Fifteen Labs, Baltimore, MD.

Gail Johns couldn’t believe her luck. All the same, her stomach knotted. This was karma, wasn’t it? Had things really fallen into place as expected?

She looked at the touchpad, then at the man lying on the medical couch. ‘Mel Dusker.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Another brave soldier ready to help the advance of science.’

‘You got a problem with that?’

‘Far from it.’ She tucked the touchpad into her capacious lab coat pocket. ‘People like us have always needed lab rats.’

Mel Dusker scowled. ‘I get the message. You mean people like me are rats.’

‘Hey—the courts made their decision. Who am I to be another judge? You’re here—that’s what’s important. Doing a public service. You don’t want me to call you a lab rat? Fine. A trailblazer—that better?’

‘Whatever you like, lady.’ Dusker turned his scarred face away.

The spark in her brain worried and excited her in equal measure. She calmed herself, worked through the pre-chamber procedure: checking his vitals, confirming his identity by retina scan, then going to the cryogenic chamber to ensure it was prepared.

She was so absorbed in this—apart from the part of her mind working on the sub-agenda—that the sudden appearance of another person made her jump.

‘Jeez, Ana, don’t creep up on me!’

Ana—mousey on even the best of days—jumped even higher. ‘I’m sorry. I wondered if you needed anything. Is Mr… Dusker ready for immersion?’

‘I’m fine,’ Gail snapped. ‘You can… run out for coffee. Yes, that would be ideal.’

‘I should be here in case of any issues.’

‘What issues? Are you saying I haven’t podded enough people to know what I’m doing?’ She deliberately flared her eyes so Ana knew not to step on a Senior Tech’s shoes.

‘No. No, you’re right. I’ll do a coffee run. Sorry for… startling you.’

Gail puffed a sigh. ‘It’s fine. I’m just pissed that we have to work weekends to catch up. This study should be done by now.’

‘All the better for me,’ the prone man piped up, unasked.

‘I guess so, Mr Dusker,’ she snipped. She waved towards the diminutive Assistant. ‘Black coffee. Muffins. Thank you, Ana. And go to Coffee Planet. Much better there. Don’t worry. I won’t dock your time.’

Ana Kruse managed a suitably deferential smile and trudged away.

‘Sheesh,’ Dusker said. ‘What’d she ever do to you?’

Gail tugged the tube from the cannula in his arm, making him wince. ‘She never did anything.’

‘Well, when I wake up, I’m not giving this place more than two stars for customer service.’

‘This is a cryogenic trial, not a vacation resort.’

‘It’s a vacation from something. Something a damn sight worse.’

‘Then step into your hotel room, Mr Dusker. Time for night-night.’

Holding in the revulsion particular to this candidate, she took his upper arm and guided him across the expansive room to where one of the cryogenic pods lay open. His big hairy feet slapped the tiled floor, and the medical-issue plain shorts and vest clung to his toned physique.

He clambered into the snug, almost-horizontal chamber and made a pantomime of getting comfortable.

‘It ain’t the Waldorf,’ he snipped.

‘You’ll be out cold. Very cold. You won’t care in ten minutes. You won’t toss or turn.’

‘And I get five years knocked off my sentence. That’s the comfort here. And fifty grand.’

‘Or two hundred and fifty if you don’t wake up,’ she replied.

‘There’s a risk. I get it. I read the damn forms. What—you don’t think I can read?’

‘I’m sure you’re quite smart, Mr Dusker. Just not smart enough to commit murder and not get caught.’

She smiled knowingly and fastened the straps on his wrists and ankles.

‘Funny lady,’ he sneered. ‘You got holier-than-thou words for all us who take on this freezer of yours?’

‘No, only the special ones. Now, hold still.’

She attached a new tube to his cannula and checked the connections to the drip.

‘Any chance there’s whisky in that?’

‘I thought you’d read the forms?’ she jibed. ‘This is the sedative, so you don’t get all thrashy and shivery when the cryo process starts. You know—bang the lid, try to get out, call me a bitch. I’ve seen all manner of idiocy.’

‘Hey—I took this on with my eyes open. Five years jail time off for four weeks as a popsicle, or—before you get all preachy—two hundred and fifty grand to my daughter if this box of tricks blows a fuse or whatever. So I killed a woman? I’m doing my time, and this is part of my giving back to the world. I’ve been a worser man than I could’ve. I get that. So if I croak—and I damn well don’t want to—Bobbie gets a ton of money to make up for me not being the father I shoulda been. If I walk out—and your numbers say I will—I get five extra years with her.’

‘Aren’t you just the stand-up guy?’

He wrinkled his nose. ‘Put me out, lady. Better yet, if you’re not here when I wake up.’

She left that alone. Instead, she depressed a button beside the vast metal casket, and the transparent lid slid closed. Then she tapped a key on a pad set into the vertical part of the structure above the occupant’s head.

‘Can you hear me?’

‘I hear you, doc.’

‘I’m putting the anaesthetic in now. You’ll remember that this part has a theoretical risk too, but you’re a big strong guy, so I’m sure you’ll be fine.’ She smiled condescendingly.

She turned the valve on the drip, and the clear liquid began to run. Then, out of his sight, she took a syringe from her pocket and injected another fluid into the tubing.

Finally, she switched off the screen and alarm which monitored Mel Dusker’s vitals.

She perched on the edge of the pod.

The man’s eyelids were already heavy.

‘Sleep tight, Mr Dusker. The company and science thank you for your contribution.’

‘Whatever’, he mumbled as if drugged. His eyes closed, head lolled.

‘By the way, I hope your daughter doesn’t blow all that money too quickly. I’m sure she’s more sense than the man who murdered my sister.’

Saturday 05.07.2071

New York, NY.

Kayte gravitated towards Tom as they walked to the parking lot of Cypress Hills Cemetery.

‘You know what I’m going to say.’

‘I’ve been damn good, Tom. Damn restrained.’ She met his eye. ‘I butted out, so you didn’t think I was looking for revenge. Now, if there’s even a chance that Jay’s death is linked to Fleet—or Jonas’ is—it makes it our bag.’

‘Kennet’s already talking to the Danes.’

‘Then there’s no reason for you not to talk to NYPD and let us follow up. To do what Jay didn’t have time to do before he….’ She kicked the ground in annoyance.

‘Iris’ suspicions don’t suddenly make this a grand conspiracy.’

‘No, but they give us an angle. PD is too busy following up on what happened to Jay, not picking up his caseload. Besides, this Missing Persons was just reported directly to us. We know Natasja spoke to Jay. That makes their conversation, and what happened afterwards, relevant.’ She squeezed Tom’s arm. ‘Throw me a bone here, boss.’

He brought them to a stand. ‘Or I could wait until you start buttering me up with boxes of donuts come Monday morning?’

Enna came alongside.

Kayte’s smile was sad. ‘Like Jay used to do when he wanted me to work a favour, or overtime, or both.’

Tom sighed. ‘The thing is, Connors, I’ll get baby fat jokes from this one,’ he thumbed at Enna, ‘For eating your donuts, so it’s a damn sight easier to give in and do the right thing—for Jay. I’ll talk to PD, let them know what Iris said just now, and see if we can’t get Jay’s murder, Jonas’ suicide, and Natasja’s disappearance handed over to us. It’s all too much coincidence to think they aren’t connected, and it’s unarguable that Fleet has a stake. I’ll bet they’d want to keep a lid on things if there was even a suggestion that a passenger could return from a trip having been driven to terminal despair by the experience. That’s bad press. Luckily my Lieutenant carries her own kind of crazy anyhow.’

Enna shot him daggers. ‘Don’t joke, Tom. I don’t want bad press for Fleet, either. It’s my job at stake if confidence crashes, and remember, I quit Fleet PD to go back to that job. The public should be on a high of expectation, what with the Galaxy Class ships being built. Ten years ago, I’d have killed to get a Navigator position on a cruise voyage like that. Instead, you got me knocked up and settled down, so I’ll have to live vicariously through those lucky crew.’ She winked to show she’d forgiven his misstep.

Kayte coughed uncomfortably. ‘Thanks, Chief.’

They resumed walking. Kennet and Han had caught up with them.

‘I’ll request the case files first thing Monday,’ Tom replied.

‘I’ll put a call into my colleagues in Copenhagen,’ Kennet said. ‘Then I’ll give you a hand.’

Kayte held his upper arm and halted their progress.

Tom, Enna and Han continued towards the exit.

‘What?’ Kennet asked.

‘I’m not having you stay here again and get sucked into something. Don’t bend Jana’s tolerance. You came for Jay—I understand, that was sweet—even though I said you didn’t need to. Last time you flew over for a personal matter—the wedding—that all turned into a crazy long stay. You belong in Bollnäs, Kennet. Talk to the Danes directly. Really, we’re fine.’

‘It’s a case, Kayte. About your—our—friend. Colleague. I’m not doing it to be nice. I thought maybe you could… use the support. That’s all.’

‘Professional support?’ Her brow arched.

‘Mostly?’

She searched his eyes. ‘Sometimes I can see through that straightness and logic, partner. Don’t feel guilty for wanting to see Charlotte. And don’t hide it. Be honest. It’s fine. She’s your daughter too.’

Kennet’s eyes darted, worried about prying ears, even in the open air.

‘She is not my daughter. She is yours and Carey’s.’

Kayte mollified him by lowering her voice. ‘Biology is biology. And caring isn’t a crime. We discussed this a million times. Our door is always open. It’s the least we can do to repay your… gift. And you’re her damn godfather, Kennet. Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes. If you want to stay a couple of days, just say. I’m a detective—you may remember that. A pretty decent one, a certain boss used to tell me. I’ll work