Free Alien Nation #3 - Body and Soul by Peter David

possibly object!”
    At this point, Sikes gave up. He knew he was right. The only thing to do now was to sit back and let George walk straight into the lion’s den. And Sikes knew, beyond any doubt, that poor Francisco was going to get chewed up and spit out.
    At that moment, Captain Bryon Grazer approached them.
    Sikes had never been that wild about Grazer. Oh, once upon a time, Grazer had been a good cop. Okay, hell, a great cop. But since rising to the captaincy, Grazer had seemed far more occupied with the notion of furthering his own advancement than actually tending to the mundane, unglamorous job of catching bad guys. A cop liked knowing that his captain was going to be there to back him up, come hell or high water. But Sikes had the distinct feeling that if the water were getting high, Grazer would let any cop under his command go to hell. It seemed very likely that Grazer would cut any of his people loose if it became politically inexpedient to support them.
    But Sikes kept his opinions to himself and tried not to let it affect too much the way that he dealt with the man. Especially since Grazer could make his life miserable if he wanted to.
    Grazer was rapping a file folder against his leg as he walked, and when he got to their desks, he said a curt, “Francisco, Sikes,” by way of greeting, and then handed the file to George. Grazer was not one for cheerful morning amenities. He wasn’t even inclined to give Sikes a pat on the back about the good work they had done on their previous collar. That was old business, and it was time to move on to the new. “You got a homicide in Little Tencton.”
    George flipped open the file, skimming it with his usual speed. “The victim, William Perkins, was human . . .”
    “Killed by a Newcomer,” said Grazer.
    Already Matt’s antenna were up. Whenever you had a human slain by a Newcomer, you had potential for an explosive situation because of the racial aspect. It meant that whoever had done it was going to have to be nailed fast. And that wasn’t likely. In Little Tencton, finding a Newcomer to rat on a Newcomer was always difficult. And finding a human who could accurately pick out one Newcomer from another was virtually impossible. If Sikes had a nickel for every description he had that went, “He was bald and had spots on his head,” as if that was going to be of any use whatsoever, he could have retired ages ago.
    So it was with nothing short of amazement that he reacted to the captain’s next words when Grazer said, “According to witnesses—a plumbing salesman, in particular—the perpetrator was a giant.”
    It was a godsend. They were going after a Newcomer with a major distinguishing feature.
    George, naturally, could not refrain from looking a gift horse in the mouth. He frowned and said, “That’s odd. I’ve never heard of giantism among Tenctonese.”
    It was just like George, Sikes thought, to try and wreck a perfectly decent lead just because it was something outside of his own experience.
    Meantime, George continued to read the file. “Perkins worked security for Dual Pharmaceuticals. We can start there.” Then something else in the file caught his eye. “I didn’t know that.” He looked up at Sikes and Grazer and said, “Dual is owned by Hadrian Tivoli.”
    This was an earth-shattering revelation, the importance of which went right by the two human officers. They looked at each other, as if trying to get silent verification from the other that he wasn’t the only one to whom this meant absolutely nothing.
    Amazed that they could be unaware, George added the customary title in front of the name. “Doctor Hadrian Tivoli.”
    Matt tried to look as if this jogged his memory. Encouraged, George further prompted by saying, “He patented a genetic cure for diabetes back in ’94.”
    “Right!” said Matt triumphantly. “That Hadrian Tivoli.”
    George looked to Grazer to see whether the captain now remembered. Grazer, for his part, was