The Immorality Clause

by Brian Parker

  “No. The CS01 is so much more than a mere sex droid, Detective. They will be the absolute top of the companionship industry. The CS01 models will live as humans amongst our population, implanted with a wide assortment of life memories, no two will be alike. They will fulfill the needs of lonely men and women everywhere without the hassle of dating and dealing with extended families. Totally programmable personality types, from submissive all the way to combative, depending on the purchaser’s desire.”

  “Sounds like you’ve done a lot of research on this model. Thinking about buying another one?”

  He laughed. “Oh no, Detective. I’m an investor in the CS01—the sole investor, under exclusive contract to develop them with Cybertronic Solutions. We will revolutionize the sex industry.”

  “What, running robotic prostitution establishments aren’t doing it for you anymore?” I sneered.

  “On the contrary, it’s very lucrative, Forrest. But, there’s always the risk that some uptight, God Squad, conservative politician will shut us down under the guise of wholesome family values or some other ludicrous platform. The introduction of companion droids will be a substantial paradigm shift to our collective psyche—” He inhaled sharply. “Oh, here’s the good part.”

  I glanced away from Ladeaux’s face and focused on Paxton’s video feed. The images of us having sex cast odd shadows and bursts of light on the wall. Paxton’s whimpers of simulated pleasure and my guttural moans of passion filled the air, evidence of my error in judgement.

  “Impressive work, Detective.”

  I stared through the scene at him. “Fuck you, Voodoo.” Shit, I’d let him get to me.

  “Looks like you were the one doing the fucking. Now I know how you had the opportunity to collect her urine sample.”

  “Okay, you got me. I had sex with her. I thought she was a human.”

  “But she was still a witness in an investigation… This changes things between us.”

  “No, it doesn’t. You’re dirtier than the shit oozing out from under your droids’ toenails after a gangbang.”

  “Maybe,” he countered. “But you don’t have video evidence of any of my alleged dealings like I do of yours.”

  “You listen to me,” I hissed. “I won’t be blackmailed or threatened by you. You don’t have anything on me and I’m already going to talk to people in the department tomorrow morning.”

  “Seems like you’ve got it all figured out then, Detective.” He stood and refilled his glass.

  “So, you know about what I did, now tell me why your droid drugged me. Was it to lower my inhibitions and make me vulnerable? Was that what you programmed her to do?”

  “Even though I have your nuts in a vice, I’m telling you the truth when I say that I don’t know what you’re talking about. The only thing I’ve programmed Paxton to do was to work as the manager at The Digital Diva and to live as a human. She doesn’t even know that she’s a robot.”

  As far as I could ascertain, he was telling the truth. “What do you mean she doesn’t know?” I asked.

  “It’s part of the testing protocol. We want to see how well the programming and AI is in the CS01. If she can survive for a year on her own, then she’ll be a resounding success and that data should allow us to go to market.”

  “You son of a bitch. That’s cruel.”

  He laughed. “She’s a computer program, Detective. She doesn’t have feelings.”

  I’d told Andi the same thing the other night when I was mad at her for interfering with my personal life, and I was ashamed that I’d treated her that way.

  “She thinks she does, though,” I muttered.

  “It’s a program telling her how to react. I’m interested about this alleged drugging though.”

  I explained quickly to him about the discovery of synthaine and sleeping medications in my system and that Paxton had administered them to me in the tea the day I went to her apartment.

  “To be honest, I don’t know what she did that for,” Ladeaux stated. “I’m in the middle of a potential billion dollar deal; I wouldn’t screw that up with playing around with a cop’s head.”

  Heaven help me, I believed him. She’d decided to drug me on her own, but why?

  “So you’ve created this whole fake life for her, why couldn’t we see the lack of credit history or fake school diplomas when we accessed her files?”

  Ladeaux smiled as video from yesterday morning’s escapade through Paxton’s point of view began to play between us. Droplets of water flew against her camera lenses. “Because they’re not fake,” he replied. “Paxton Himura is a real person who works for Cybertronic Solutions. She’s been given a year off to do basically whatever she wants to do on the company’s dime, the only stipulation is that she doesn’t use her personal accounts, everything has to be done on the company’s credit.”

  “How does she get around sensors or travel?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe she’s staying home writing a book. The idea is for the droid to be as human as possible and for her past to stand up to more than a cursory examination.”

  “Who’s monitoring her records?” I asked.

  “Somebody at Cybertronic, I’m sure. It’s really not my concern, though.”

  “Well, that ‘somebody at Cybertronic’ is concerned. They tried to kill me after I began digging into her past.”

  “Hmm… Interesting.” He tapped a few keys and then looked up. “There, I just sent a message asking who the programmer is that’s responsible for keeping an eye on Paxton’s personal history.”

  My phone beeped again, but I disregarded it once more. “Thanks. Let me know as soon as you find out. I’d like to talk to them.”

  “Of course, Detective.” He savored the video for a moment and then clicked it off. Thankfully, the image of my body pressing Paxton against the shower wall as water cascaded across us faded. “Is there anything else?”

  “You said you had other information to tell me about the video from The Stud Farm,” I reminded him.

  “I want to help our fine New Orleans Police Department in this investigation,” he said slowly. “Because, I am a contributing member of the community and all.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure,” I scoffed “What did your people find out?”

  He smirked. “The NOPD computer techs didn’t notice anything odd about the video we sent them?”

  “No. They determined the video to be authentic.”

  “Amateurs,” Ladeaux muttered while he tapped a few more keys.

  This time, the video of Mark Barilla and his robot escort sprang to life. I saw Barilla open his backpack and pull out a bag of several large buds of marijuana and a bong. He poured water into the container and crammed one of the buds into the end. He flicked a lighter and placed it against the weed. The victim took six deep drags from the mouthpiece and then began choking as the droid watched him die.

  I’d seen it twenty times before. “Yeah, so? I’ve seen this video already.”

  “But you said that your people thought the video was authentic and untampered with. It’s not.”

  “What?”

  “Here, watch.” He repeated the video and displayed a complicated string of numbers alongside it. “These codes are proprietary. Only Cybertronic Solutions systems can recognize them.”

  I watched the numbers as he’d indicated. They changed steadily, increasing as the video played. “These numbers, they correspond with time?” I surmised.

  “Basically,” Ladeaux said. “Their main function is to keep track of recorded time for Cybertronic Solutions that can’t be changed by a hacker.”

  I tapped the air on the opposite side of the newer numbers where a series of digits that I’d already seen scrolled by, matching the Cybertronic numbers. “Then what are these?”

  “That’s the official timestamp, but those can be altered. You’ll see here in a couple of seconds.”

  I watched as the victim pulled out and wiped the droid’s synthetic fluid from his dick w
ith a tissue. He told the robot to sit tight, that he wanted to wash up before they relaxed. The robot watched him go into the bathroom and then the Cybertronic numbers jumped and they were thirty-five seconds ahead of the official timestamp.

  “Son of a bitch,” I muttered, not directed at my host this time. “Can you replay that segment?”

  “Of course.” Ladeaux wasn’t as adept at the video playback function as Andi, but he was decent.

  The same thing happened again.

  “The video’s been tampered with,” I muttered in disbelief. I’d been certain that the police tech guys were the best around. Now I knew better.

  “Yes, it has. Here, watch the robot’s focus just before the numbers jump.”

  The view fixated on a single point along the wall beside the bathroom, away from any shadows that Barilla may have cast as he cleaned himself up. Then the numbers jumped while the view remained the same.

  “The robot was able to do something to the marijuana and then return to the exact same position it had been in before moving,” Ladeaux stated.

  “So, when the video was spliced, there was no jumping of image or change of lighting angles. It’s imperceptible as long as the timestamp is changed.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Is there a way to recover that lost video?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” Tommy Voodoo replied. “The programmers at Cybertronic Solutions have looked for it. It’s simply gone.”

  “I need to have the other videos analyzed. Can you do that?”

  “I can ask,” he answered. “Since those aren’t my clubs, I’d have to have you send me the video feeds. As long as they’re running Cybertronic Solutions droids, their programmers should be able to see that quickly. I know the droids at Madame LaLaurie’s come from Cooper-Smith Personal Services, so I’d be unable to assist with that camera footage. Possibly a meeting with their company reps could open some doors for you.”

  My phone beeped again. “Excuse me; this is the third time that my phone’s emergency number has alerted. I need to check it.”

  “Of course,” he replied, opening his mail screen and doing his best to appear as if he weren’t eavesdropping.

  I looked at the messages. There were two from Andi and one from Amir. Both of them had tried to contact me at my emergency number, which was out of the ordinary, so I stood and walked over to the corner.

  “Andi, what is it?” I asked quietly.

  “You need to contact Amir Khalil immediately. There’s been an incident; your assistance is desperately needed. Chief Brubaker is trying to reach you as well about a separate matter.”

  “Any idea what the chief wants?”

  “No. He wanted you to call him as soon as possible.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  I hung up and Ladeaux waved at me. “If you don’t have any further questions for me, Anastasia can show you out.”

  The feeling that someone had walked up behind me caused me to whirl around. The receptionist, beautiful in all her petri dish glory, stood less than a foot away. “This way, Detective,” she said.

  I glanced back at Tommy Voodoo. “Thanks. I’ll send you the video from the other two clubs. What did the recording from the droid at The Digital Diva show?”

  “The same loss of footage and evidence of tampering as in the video you’ve seen. However, more than three minutes is unaccounted for between the gaps in the two times.”

  “If there’s any way you could provide a recording of those Cybertronic numbers displayed side by side with the timestamp, it would help further the investigation.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he answered. “Oh, and if you get the opportunity to find my stolen droid, I’d like him back.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I mimicked his response.

  He nodded and turned back to the monitor. I took it to mean he was finished talking to me for the moment. He was potentially going to do me a favor without requiring a court order to check out the videos, so I let his dismissal slide.

  I followed the clone to the lobby and called the BMW while I put my coat on. Andi’s messages bothered me. Why was Amir calling? And what about the chief?

  The car pulled up and I got in, choosing to dial my lifelong friend’s number first.

  Amir answered on the first ring. “Oh, thank goodness, Zach. You’ve got to come to my house.” There were several background voices, making it sound like he was downtown.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked in alarm.

  “Someone shot up my house. They drove by, shooting all of my windows out.”

  “Is everyone okay?”

  “Thank the Lord, yes. No one was hurt. Amanda and Amir Jr. were home when it happened. The girls were at school.”

  “Are you— Hold on. I’m on my way.” I tapped his address into the nav system and the car pulled slowly into traffic. I willed it to go faster, missing my Jeep’s ability to bypass the speed regulator for a police override.

  I expected a certain amount of personal hardship as a homicide detective. Murderers could try to come after me all day long, that didn’t bother me. Now this fucker was messing with my friends, and I was pissed.

  TWELVE: TUESDAY

  I dialed Chief Brubaker’s office number on the way to Amir’s house. “Brubaker,” he stated when he picked up the phone.

  “Chief, it’s Forrest.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “I was meeting with Thomas Ladeaux, like you’d—”

  “Can it. What’s this I hear about you going on a date with that witness from Friday night’s murder?”

  “I, uh—” I paused. How does the chief know about that?

  “What are you doing, Forrest? I understand that you’re a young guy, but there are tens of thousands of women in New Orleans. Don’t make a mistake you’re going to regret.”

  “Chief, I gotta talk to you about this.”

  “Shit. Did you fuck her? Are you fucking one of your witnesses, Detective?”

  I told Chief Brubaker about the drugs, the sex and Ladeaux’s revelation that Paxton Himura was a robot, not a human being. I even told him about the breakthrough with the proprietary timestamp that proved at least two of the videos had been altered. By the time I was finished, the BMW was in Amir’s neighborhood.

  “I need your AI to send that urine analysis directly to me as an official lab report from the Louisiana Department of Health,” the chief ordered. “Legally, I can only sit on this thing for twenty-four hours before I have to let Internal Affairs know about it. We’ll get ahead of this thing before it breaks wide open and get the investigators on our side. You’re a moron, but you’re also the best homicide detective I have.”

  Saying I was better than Alfonso wasn’t really a compliment. “Thanks, Chief. I appreciate it.”

  “Listen, Forrest. I’m glad that you came clean with me. I know that wasn’t easy. You could have lied to me about it, but you didn’t. I’m gonna fight for you, but no guarantees.”

  “I know. Once IA gets it, it’s out of your hands.”

  “Yeah. For now, keep on the investigation. That was good work with the timestamp thing. Dig up whatever else you can find.”

  “Got it, Chief. I’ll be going out to talk to Wolfe’s widow again tonight.”

  “Okay, just put it in your report in the morning. After that, I may have to pull you off the case. I don’t know what they’ll do yet.”

  “Understood,” I replied, staring out the window at several black and whites, lights flashing, in front of Amir’s house.

  “See you tomorrow morning.” He hung up before I got the opportunity to reply. I knew my actions had hurt the man. I kept trying to tell myself that it was the drugs she’d slipped me, but I should have been able to resist the temptations. Was I really so lonely as to jump into bed with the first woman who came along? What about the mess with Teagan? I needed to reevaluate some things in my life, but that would have to wait.

  I stepped out of the car and flash
ed my badge to one of the Read Boulevard East cops who stood on the curb. While I walked up the sidewalk, I appraised the damage. Amir hadn’t been lying, every window was broken, some with tiny holes visible, others completely shattered. Whoever had done this was precise; making sure every possible non-brick surface was covered in the hopes of hitting one of the occupants. Seeing the damage made my blood boil.

  I edged past an officer digging in the wall for projectile fragments. Amir and Amanda stood at their kitchen counter, both drinking from mugs.

  “You two know it’s too late to be drinking coffee,” I chastised.

  “Oh, Zach, it was awful!” Amanda sobbed and rushed around the counter to wrap me in a hug.

  “Were you home?”

  “Yes, Amir Jr and I were in the living room folding laundry. I’m lucky that they started from that side and worked their way across the house,” she said, pointing toward the girls’ end of the house. “It gave me enough of a warning to dive onto the floor and pull Amir down with me. We crawled into the kitchen and hid behind the refrigerator.”

  Amir came around and shook my hand. “Thank you for coming, Zach. I don’t know why this happened.”

  I took a deep breath. “I think I do. The killer I’m investigating used Paxton’s video to determine where you lived. He’s trying to get to me.”

  “What video?” Amir asked.

  “It turns out that she’s a robot—the latest model, designed to imitate a human.”

  “You brought a robot into our house?” Amanda asked.

  “I didn’t know it until today. I was fooled by her too.” Technically I’d found out the night before, but that wasn’t the point.

  “By her? You mean by it, don’t you? Oh God, she helped me in the kitchen, she went to the bathroom like a person. Why would it do that?”

  “The company wants them to be unrecognizable,” I replied. “They’re creating a companion droid instead of a sex bot.”

  Amir cleared his throat. “Maybe it has to do with the social stigma associated with the type of person who requires the services of a robot instead of having a relationship with a human.”

  The three of us had discussed the robot issue on several occasions over the years. Amanda was absolutely opposed to them, whereas Amir and I felt like they had their place in modern society. Neither side was right, of course, but we knew where each other stood.