by Jaxon Reed
Admiral Severs appeared on the room’s central holo. He looked predominantly of African ancestry, although his genes were widely mixed with other races and ethnicities like everyone else spread out through the Milky Way.
His eyes met Jodi’s and he said, “Director Fonteneaux.”
Then he noticed Gina and said, “Sergeant Wilcox. I’m glad you’re here, too.”
Severs knew Wilcox from making arrangements with Captain Raleigh of the Ultima Mule to smuggle her and Julia Thrall into Sporades before the Diego Fleet attacked.
She nodded a greeting to him, and he returned his attention to Jodi.
“Director Fonteneaux, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is we are dissolving NID now that the war is over. The bean counters think your duties and responsibilities can be handled by other divisions within the Naval bureaucracy.
“Without any new planets to take over militarily, they also don’t see the need for tracking down war criminals anymore, although I think Naval Intelligence might disagree. And they think our side will behave themselves better. The MPs will be picking up your other duties. Anyway, right or wrong, we’re dissolving NID.”
Jodi’s face paled at this, but she gave no other outward sign of shock or disappointment.
Instead she said, “What’s the good news, sir?”
“The good news is Jermaine Farthingale has gotten caught up in a political scandal. Chancellor Cole fired him earlier today. She asked my advice for a replacement, and your name came up.”
He smiled then, his teeth flashing in the holo.
“Congratulations, Director. You’re moving into a civilian job. In fact, it’s the highest civilian law enforcement job in the Planetary Republic. As of now, you are the Agency of Justice’s new leader.”
3
“No, I can’t just turn it down, honey. I know, I know, it’s very political. That’s what got Farthingale in trouble. Yes, he’s probably going to jail. I think Cole is thinking I’ll clean house when I get there. No, the appointment does not require Parliamentary approval, that’s reserved for higher levels. No, we don’t have to move, I’ll just port to work. I’m sure that’s a perk. Yes, all the upper wonks get to port to work. No, I don’t think they let husbands . . . I’ve got to go. Love you. Make that droid fix supper for you and the kids, okay? Bye.”
Fonteneaux ended the neural net connection with her husband and smiled at Gina.
She said, “He took it well, all things considered. I think it pays more than the Navy. It better, as much grief as everybody gives the Agency.”
“So, Director of the Agency of Justice. Congratulations. I guess I’ll be looking for a new job,” Wilcox said.
“No way, Detective. I’m not letting someone with your abilities out of my grasp. You’re coming with me as my right hand man.”
Wilcox smiled and said, “We’re both women.”
“It’s a figure of speech, dude. Now, I am going to be wrapped up in politics for the months ahead. If I’m reading this correctly, Cole will be expecting me to fix things for her over at AOJ.”
Wilcox nodded. “It does have a reputation, especially lately.”
“That’s thanks to Farthingale getting in bed with Cole’s opposition. But yeah, the agency has a bad rep. Anyway, let me worry about that. I want you to focus on solving crimes, just like you’ve been doing here. The only problem is, the crimes will be higher profile, with more exposure to the media. Plus, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but AOJ people have a tendency to get killed on a regular basis. I’ve got some ideas about that.”
“I’m all ears.”
“I’m going to have PLAIR and our Naval Intelligence friends create a false double for you. An artificial agent, if you will. Your double will take all the credit for every successful case you crack, and probably be the one most often seen in public. Are you okay with that?”
Wilcox chuckled. “That’s crazy. But yeah, I’m fine with that. I’m not in law enforcement for the fame or glory.”
“I know. And, this is a way to help keep your powers secret. I thought of it while watching you take down that perp on the holo. With no live actors these days on all the shows, I mean even the news anchors aren’t real people, PLAIR ought to be able to set us up with something similar for you. A fake you that can go out there and grab all the attention.”
Gina shrugged and said, “Sounds good to me.”
“Great. Alright, I’ve got work to do. I’ll pass the baton to Parsons, he can handle shutting everything down here at NID and making sure all our people get situated somewhere else. I’m headed to Harrington House to speak with Chancellor Cole. Let’s meet up later today and get started at the new place.”
-+-
Officer Seana Xie walked alongside her partner Desmond McNeese down a basement hallway inside Octavia Police Precinct 19.
Octavia was the name given to all the disparate urban entities contributing to the Planetary Republic’s government sprawl on Diego. The entire command structure for everything in the Republic resided somewhere in this huge network of interconnected cities.
They all shared municipal services, including fire and police. Precinct 19’s area covered Plairmont, although that borough itself was usually patrolled by military police.
The MPs and OPD kept intraservice agreements in place allowing them to operate between boundaries, although the MPs rarely exercised their privileges outside of Plairmont while the police likewise rarely ventured into the MPs’ area.
Xie and McNeese headed to the basement holding cells to meet with a perp they had followed into Plairmont while exercising that rare privilege.
Xie stood about five foot eight or 173 centimeters. Her dominant ancestry included a broad Asian mix, but she also had Indian bloodlines going back to the Mughal Empire. More recently, her Canadian ancestors had immigrated from Old Earth.
All McNeese knew about his ancestry was the fact he was Scottish. At some point an ancestor traveled to America, Boston in fact, and established the family name there before heading to the stars.
He stood six foot two, or 188 centimeters, and sported sandy blond hair and blue eyes. He worked out daily, with a strength and cardio regimen that left him heavily bulked up. He figured muscles were a good idea for this line of work.
Both he and his partner were in their mid-20s.
“Nice of that NID woman to hand over our suspect to us,” Xie said, as they headed to Interrogation Room 3.
“Nice of her to let us handle all the red tape,” McNeese said, in a dour tone.
Xie smiled at this as they reached the door to the interrogation area.
She palmed the access panel and it swished open. They entered the outer room and checked the holo, showing a display of the interior space.
“Who’s that in there with him?” Xie said.
McNeese said, “Dunno. Looks like his lawyer.”
“That’s a droid, that’s not a person.”
Xie sighed and palmed the second door which promptly opened.
She and McNeese walked in, their blue uniforms lending a new color to an otherwise monochromatic room. The walls, table and chairs were all the same shade of light gray.
Sitting in one of the chairs, his hands and feet held immobile by a force field, the man they apprehended earlier stared belligerently back at them.
Bereft of his helmet and goggles, he looked older now, perhaps in his late 30s. He had brown hair and light brown skin, like most people.
Xie looked at the figure seated beside the prisoner and raised an eyebrow when he seemed to come to life after remaining motionless.
She said, “You’re a bot.”
The android nodded its head and said, “I am a Verberger LB 1200. I am owned by Octavia Civil Services, and report directly to the Municipal Court. And you are Shawna X-I, OPD, badge number 02991.”
“It’s pronounced ‘See-Anna Chee.’”
“My apologies. I will note that for future reference.”
The droid
had a fresh young face, and looked to be a bright-eyed and intelligent recent law school graduate. He had neatly combed brown hair and a handsome tan face.
“A lawyer bot,” McNeese said. “That’s what the LB stands for, right?”
“Essentially, that is correct. ‘Law bot’ is the precise term. I and others like me are the assigned attorneys to any who cannot afford representation. As you know, the terms ‘droid’ and ‘bot’ are interchangeable, although ‘bots’ more typically refer to those in traditional labor-intensive roles and automatons that are mechanical in appearance. However, for the sake of tradition, we still refer to medical androids as ‘doc bots,’ and this tradition has carried over with other androids such as myself. I am a law bot.”
Xie said, “Verbose, isn’t he? Just like a real lawyer.”
“Since when have been assigning indigents droid lawyers . . . law bots . . . instead of human attorneys?” McNeese said.
“From this point forward. We are the latest models.”
“Those things are expensive,” McNeese said, looking at his partner.
Xie said, “It looks like they just took the doc bot chassis and reconfigured it for a law clerk. But why would someone need a bot for an attorney? They could just ask PLAIR any legal questions they needed to know.”
“For one thing,” the bot said, “I can predict the proper questions to ask. That is not something the average person would be able to do. I also have full access to all case law and many times I can perform services beyond the capabilities of typical human lawyers.”
Xie said, “Huh. As long as they don’t make artificial cops, we’re okay.”
“Don’t get your hopes up about that,” McNeese said. “Have you seen those combat models they deployed toward the end of the war? I wouldn’t put it past the Verberger people to reconfigure them for police work. I understand the spaceport uses them for guards.”
The prisoner, who had been observing this exchange quietly, grew visibly impatient.
“Can I ask a question?”
Xie and McNeese turned their attention to him while taking a seat on the other side of the table.
He said, “Who hit me from behind? I need their name.”
McNeese smiled and said, “You don’t need to know that.”
The law bot spoke up and said, “Actually, those arrested have a full right to know the identities of officers and civilians involved in their apprehension. I have the statute here if you would like to see it.”
In the air beside the LB 1200, a holosheet appeared showing copious legal text.
Xie glanced at it and said, “That won’t be necessary. We’ll be happy to release the arrest report once we get some answers. We’ll start with your name. Who are you? Your implant is fried. Your prints and DNA are not on record. Give us some info and we’ll give you what you want.”
The man glanced at the law bot.
The LB 1200 said, “I advise you not to say anything. We have full legal right to that arrest report.”
McNeese said, “We also have a right to know who we arrested. There is no law saying a detainee can refuse to identify themselves.”
Before the law bot could respond, a klaxon sounded and PLAIR’s voice came down from the ceiling.
“Alert . . . Alert . . . Security breach. Armed intruders are in the building . . . Alert . . .”
4
The main door to Precinct 19 Headquarters blew open as three missiles struck it simultaneously.
Two guard bots standing nearby fell backward. These were older models and less impervious to explosions than ones designed during the war. Their heads ripped off in the pressure wave, rendering them inoperable.
An officer heading inside was likewise thrown by the force of the blast. She flew three meters, dead before hitting the floor.
As the dust settled, two men and a woman stepped inside, smoking missile launchers strapped to their backs.
They were dressed in black leather pants, boots and shirts. All three wore black leather helmets and dark round goggles over their eyes.
The woman said, “He’ll be in the basement. Follow me.”
She stood shorter than the two men, but appeared to be in charge. Bright red lipstick made her face look sharper and more defined. Long curly black hair flowed down her back from under the leather helmet.
She unstrapped a heavy blaster from her other shoulder, and the two men followed suit. They flicked the switches to “On” with practiced ease.
Four officers came running down a hallway toward the door, sidearms drawn.
They shot through the smoke, taking aim at the intruders.
Thoop! Thoop! Thoopah!
Green bolts sailed toward the ruined doorway, flying wide.
As one, the three black-clad individuals turned toward the running officers and squeezed the triggers on their heavy rifles.
ThuppaThuppaThuppaThuppaThuppa!
They sprayed the hallway with red blaster bolts, knocking down cops like bowling pins.
“Let’s go,” the woman said, “before more come out and try to stop us.”
She ran down the hall, the other two following.
At the elevator bank, she steered left and headed for the stairs.
Two more officers fired on them as they went through the door. The last man turned and aimed his weapon at them.
ThuppaThuppaThuppa!
The bolts slammed into one cop, blowing open his chest. The other ducked around a corner, but a bolt sliced through the wall and hit his shoulder. He fell down screaming in a pool of blood.
The gunman scanned the hallway, turning his blaster right and left, but no more officers followed. He turned and headed down the stairwell after the others.
-+-
“We’ll just stay put,” McNeese said to everyone in the room. “I mean, they can’t get very far.”
The prisoner smiled, as if he knew something the others did not.
Xie glanced at him with a worried expression.
“This can’t be a coincidence, Desmond,” she said.
She stood up from her chair and drew her blaster. She made a mental command with her implant to turn off the holo in the outer room. Then she moved to a corner and covered the door with her gun.
McNeese sighed.
He said, “Yeah. You’re probably right. Anyway, better safe than sorry I always say.”
He stood up, drew his blaster and took a position in the other corner across from her.
In the distance they heard explosions in between the klaxon, which kept wailing.
PLAIR’s voice came down from the ceiling.
“Intruders in the basement hallway . . . Alert. Alert. Intruders in the basement hallway . . .”
Xie and McNeese frowned at each other.
“Told you,” she said.
“How are they going to know what room he’s in, Seana?”
Xie shrugged and said, “There’s only so many interrogation rooms.”
Nearby they heard the sound of a door blowing in, followed by heavy blaster fire.
“Okay,” McNeese said. “I’ll grant you that. But how do they know he’s actually in an interrogation right now? Hm? Answer me that.”
Another door blew in, closer. Now they could hear the shots clearer.
ThuppaThuppaThuppa!
Xie said, “Maybe they don’t know he’s in interrogation. Maybe they plan on going to the cells after this if they don’t find him.”
BOOM!
The outer door to Interrogation Room 3 blew open.
ThuppaThuppa!
The smaller door to their interior room shuddered under blaster fire, large holes appearing.
Somebody kicked it, bending the broken metal back. They stuck their head through the hole, black goggles taking in the room.
Thoop!
Xie’s shot caught the man’s head perfectly, right between the eyes. It burst open as the energy slapped into his face, splattering blood, brains, and bits of black leather all over the doorway
.
Silence.
The nearly decapitated body slumped, half way inside the room and half out, the broken door holding it up.
McNeese mouthed, “Good shot.”
Xie nodded back, but did not smile.
They both kept their guns aimed at the door.
The man bound by force field to the chair shouted, “I’m in here! Get me out!”
“Shut up, or you’re next,” McNeese said.
The law bot turned in his chair to face the officers and said, “Threatening a prisoner is a direct violation of—”
A tiny cylindrical object flew into the room from the damaged doorway, sailing over the dead body.
It hit the floor with a clank and bounced up in the air over the table.
It seemed to hover there for a split second.
Xie shouted, “Stun gre—”
KABLUMPH!
Her head slammed against the wall and she slumped down in the corner.
The force blew McNeese back into his corner, sending his gun flying.
The law bot was blown out of its chair, circuits fried.
The prisoner’s chair flew backward, taking him with it.
Xie saw all this from the floor. Then she passed out.
5
Outside Precinct 19, a human and bot line provided a perimeter, keeping onlookers out. Gina approached, her badge holo floating to the right of her head.
“Detective Wilcox, NID.”
One of the police officers standing guard nodded and let her pass.
As she approached the door, doc bots hurried alongside floating stretchers, bodies on top covered by white sheets. She could see the faces of the ones still alive. Most wore oxygen masks.
Wilcox walked through the charred entryway off the street and noted broken guard bots lying on the floor inside.
Older models, she thought. We eliminated a lot of those in the war before everybody got smart and started building them tougher.
Inside was a hot mess, with people running back and forth while shouting and doc bots tended to the wounded.
