by Tara Tyler
After the guys checked out his apartment, Cooper bid them goodnight and got right to work. He sat on the couch and opened a frame on his imager to search, but he had no idea where to start. He yawned as he tried to sort through the mess of his current existence. His body was shutting down. But he had to keep trying. He racked his tired brain to figure out where to look.
He decided to take a shower. That was where he did his best thinking.
The water pelting his head and shoulders soothed away some tension, but couldn’t erase the images of that thing killing the Senator. It definitely was not Geri, even though it looked so real. Cooper still couldn’t get over it. No one would believe it was a simulation unless he ripped it apart, which he wouldn’t mind doing. Not that the machine would allow him to. He still remembered that android woman with the red hat from the grocery store presentation shoving him across the parking lot. She was super strong. This was going to take some finesse.
And he’d have to find it first. And he’d have to know for sure it wasn’t the real Geri.
He needed some help. Aimee would believe him. But she had her own problems. She knew Wells was a simulation but had no proof to support her claim to her bosses. The FBI would never believe her story. They’d probably doubt anything she had to say just by her association with Geri, the wacko, killer agent. Plus she was just a rookie.
Cooper was surprised he wasn’t in custody for his associations with Geri. With the two bozos waiting downstairs to tag along wherever he went, it was almost as bad as being in a cell.
As he dressed, he organized his thoughts. He had two, well, three tasks ahead of him. First he needed to find the real Geri before anyone else did. If she was found by authorities, she would be incarcerated and her life would be over whether they discovered the truth or not. Cooper knew how devastating it could be to lose everything, and he wouldn’t let that happen to her.
His second task would be to expose the simulation Geri to clear the real Geri. Finding that thing would be just as difficult as finding the real Geri, unless it struck again. The only clue he had was the strange symbol and phrase found at the scene of the murder. Someone was using Geri to promote an agenda.
The third thing would have to wait—exposing the Colonel and his simulation, Congressman Wells. Cooper suspected sim Geri was a part of the Colonel’s master plan somehow. But it still didn’t make much sense. What need would the Colonel have for protesting his own cause? The Colonel was for androids, while the symbol sim Geri left made it look like she was against them.
That confusing mess would have to wait. He went back to his first objective. Cooper believed Geri was most likely still with Hasan. Since the murder happened soon after they escaped from Rajul’s, they were probably hiding out somewhere. Surely they knew about it by now with the story plastered all over the news and Qnet. The problem was, they could be anywhere. They had the whole world to choose from with all Hasan’s pop travel codes at his disposal. Cooper ruled out the obvious—not her apartment, not the plantation. But where? Hasan had a nice vacation home in India, but it wasn’t equipped with a lab or even a staff at this time of year. Then he thought of Hasan’s uncle.
When he sat down to search for Dr. Rastogi’s number, he noticed a couple of messages on his CC. Duh. Maybe they called my office line.
“Cooper here, talk to me. Play messages.”
The imager opened and Dawson’s smile lit up the frame.
“I got an update from Aimee that she sent you home in one piece. I hope you’re okay. I know how much Geri means, well, meant to you. Don’t go doing anything foolish. I don’t want to have to bail you out again.” His smile couldn’t hide his worried eyes. “Seriously, bro, be careful. She’s gone off the deep end. You should let the feds handle this one. I still don’t have the whole story, but it’s best left to the professionals. As if you’ll listen to me, right? Give me a call. Later.”
Oh, Dawson. If you only knew.
He yawned as the next message began, fighting to stay awake after all he’d been through that day. It was his client, Lucinda Ramirez, the poor girlfriend of the original McFarland Wells, who brought Cooper this lovely case. He wondered why he was such a sucker for hopeless romantic clients. Was he secretly a hopeless romantic? His mind wandered back to Hasan’s dinner and his friend’s attempt to prod Geri and himself back together. Where could she be?
The next thing he knew, the sun was shining in his face. He woke up still in a daze. Blinking crusty eyes, he wished it had all been a dream.
He shook his head and remembered he was about to watch Lucinda’s message. He played it again.
“Hello, Mr. Cooper. I appreciate all your help trying to find my McFarland. I arrived at the grocery store opening just as you were, uh, detained by the police. I apologize for any inconvenience to you. I understand if you give up on my case. Especially now that I will be leaving the country. Please, if you do find McFarland, give him my love. Gracias.” The message went blank.
She’s better off out of this mess. Good luck, Lucinda.
Cooper snapped his fingers. Lucinda triggered a great idea. Everyone had been watching the Congressman’s speech yesterday morning, including Hasan, Geri, and Aimee. It was a long shot, but worth the try. He pulled up Wells’ schedule.
Sitting next to Wells on stage while the Governor made opening remarks, the Colonel did his best to appear aloof, gazing down his nose at the crowd gathered for the demonstration, though he anxiously awaited the events to come. Alongside the Colonel sat Devon Cobb, the Chief of Police, with his second in command behind him, then the State Attorney General, and Atlanta Mayor Athawan. A mixed bag of marbles, but all playable. The stubborn Chief was turning out to be the hardest to convince of the Proposal’s benefits outweighing the cost. After today’s demonstration, Crews had no doubt the proud man would come around.
With a mere two hundred in attendance, the Colonel was disappointed. He’d hoped for a larger crowd. Less and less of the public cared about government anymore. Many preferred to watch live on-line, rather than dress up and come out of their holes. Horrible shame. They didn’t deserve to be represented if they didn’t want to stand up and be counted, as far as Crews was concerned.
Looking out across Centennial Park, he could see children playing in the old Fountain of Rings. Sweet relief from the drastically high temperatures of the mid-summer day. But the overbearing heat didn’t keep the protesters away. Good. Let them protest and bring more attention to his event. Though they had to stay on the sidewalk at the street to rant and shake their signs, not allowed to disturb the presentation inside the park, their chanting could be heard loud and clear through the trees. It always amazed the Colonel how the complaints of so few could influence the voting of the masses who probably supported the opposing idea. These lazy constituents needed an air horn to wake them up, and he couldn’t wait to blast it in their ears.
While the Governor continued blathering on about how safe Atlanta was and what a great job he and the Chief were doing, Crews took a closer survey of the audience. On the front two rows sat twelve proud police officers, noses in the air, daring anyone to doubt their abilities or tell them an android could do their job better. Behind the officials on the stage, half as many androids sat at attention, staring straight ahead, awaiting a command. Loyalty, obedience, durability, and fearlessness. That was a police force no criminal would dare tangle with. And Crews was ready to show the world they needed it.
He smiled like a satiated cat as the Governor finally got around to Wells’ introduction.
Cooper let Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber give him a ride, since he had no desire to retrieve his car from the impound lot it had been taken to the day before. He hated driving anyway. The FBI agents also got better parking and probably could’ve gotten seats up on stage for a ringside view of the demonstration. Representative McFarland Wells’ with his Android Protection Proposal was scheduled to put on quite a show at Centennial Park. All the city’s big officials would be ther
e, and it was open to the public for anyone else who wanted to watch.
The FBI goons had no idea the Colonel and his animated mannequin was Cooper’s targets.
On the way over, he read a couple of articles about the Proposal. He still thought it sounded ridiculous to let androids act as police officers. Too many split-second decisions had to be made, and not all of them were black and white.
Wearing a baseball cap, Cooper kept his head down and tried to blend into the crowd. The three of them stood among the overflow behind those seated in folding chairs. He didn’t want the Colonel and Wells to see him too soon or he might spook them. Unfortunately, with his guards flanking him, standing at ease in their gray suits and sunglasses and panning the crowd, Cooper drew some unwanted stares. He hoped the sore thumbs didn’t blow another opportunity for him to confront the old man and his pet dinosaur.
The Governor droned on, trying to sound neutral, but Cooper noticed evidence his opinion swayed away from using androids to protect his citizens by his snide facial expressions and bad jokes, which sounded more like taunts. Whatever the majority wanted, the Governor supported so he could win their votes. And the polls said the public was not convinced they wanted androids making judgment calls as to who the bad guys and good guys were. Neither was Cooper’s brother, Dawson, the biggest opponent to the Proposal.
While Cooper waited for Wells to take the mic, he considered the six androids sitting on the stage behind the Governor. They didn’t look much different than the officers in the audience. Young and muscular, they all had the same neutral, multi-racial face and dark hair, sitting posture perfect in their dull gray uniforms. They carried no visible weapons, but being droids, that didn’t mean anything. They could be packing missiles in their shorts, as far as Cooper knew.
Thinking about the potential destruction the androids possessed, Cooper realized he had underestimated the seriousness of the issue. Cooper wasn’t sure which side of the fence he liked better and re-evaluated the pros and cons. If used properly and kept under control, the droids could do good things and the good guys would have a major advantage over the criminals. It all depended on who controlled them. Humans always made mistakes, especially when they were given too much power. And the bad guys would have androids on their side to fight the good androids soon enough. In fact, since the Colonel controlled the simulation of Wells and probably sim Geri too, the bad guys were already ahead. Which didn’t make sense. Again Cooper questioned why the Colonel wanted androids on the police force to fight his own simulation. The police androids he was promoting were meant to protect citizens from people like him. Cooper shook his head.
When Wells took the stage, Cooper kept an eye on the Colonel seated behind the hulking mastodon. Cooper knew the old man pulled the strings, mouthing each word his creation uttered. But Cooper had to admit Wells was impressive.
While the public focused on the considerable Representative, they had no reason to search for a puppet master.
The spectators greeted Wells with muted applause, influenced by the Governor’s lack of enthusiasm and a sprinkle of doubt for the Proposal in his speech. The Chief must have put some sour milk in the Governor’s latte.
Still, Crews remained positive as his boy McFarland took the podium. The anticipation thrilled him. They’d all see soon enough.
“Fellow Atlantans. Thank you for the kind welcome. I’m honored to address you all as we delve into the future of our city. I’m sure you will agree how important it will be for us to have these well-trained, highly capable, and extremely versatile androids supporting our brave men and women on the police force.”
A voice interrupted Wells’ speech, shouting on a megaphone, “No more machines replacing humans!”
Everyone searched for the source of the outburst.
A group of protestors burst out of the surrounding bushes and shouted the same thing again as they rushed for the stage.
Several of the officers in the audience jumped onto the stage to defend the officials, while a few stayed on the ground to protect and evacuate the audience.
Some of the attackers had baseball bats or other crude weapons and held them in the air as they yelled and charged forward. The small mob’s primary objective wasn’t clear, but they’d had enough of something and somebody was going to pay.
The Attorney General trembled, hiding behind the larger Mayor. The Police Chief and his man stood firm in front of the cowering Governor as the rest of the officials and aides jumped off the stage and ran away with the crowd.
Crews hunkered down behind his chair to appear scared. Everything was working perfectly.
The sample police droids didn’t react, even when thugs climbed up on the stage and attacked them. One protestor whacked a droid in the head with a lead pipe, which bounced off the solid skull, doing no damage whatsoever.
The Colonel whispered to Wells through his tie tack and Wells gave the command, his booming voice loud enough for everyone to pause and listen through the commotion.
“PF Squad Eight, immobilize attackers.”
The androids sprang into action, standing as one. They grabbed the protestors and tossed away their weapons, easily stunning the enemy with a nerve hold or a light shock. In twelve seconds, the ten assailants were on the ground, cuffed or unconscious, while the androids stood at attention in formation around them.
The crowd’s sudden horror turned into excited elation as they made their way back. They shouted and cheered for the astonishingly quick conclusion of the assault.
The Governor slowly rose from behind the podium. He straightened his tie and ran a hand through his thin gray hair. Gripping the sides of the podium to steady himself, he spoke into the mic.
“Well, that was an unpleasant surprise. We were planning to demonstrate the exceptional abilities of the android squad, but they have shown just how capable they are in a live situation. Chief, are all your men accounted for? Is everyone okay?”
“All of them have checked in, but one of my officers suffered a broken arm. He’s on his way to the hospital.” The slightly overweight, dark-skinned Chief took off his hat and scratched his head. “I guess these androids are good for some things.”
The audience showed overwhelming agreement with applause and whistles.
The Colonel rose and added his clapping.
That’s right, dullards. Be impressed. Be very impressed.
After a few sentences from Representative Wells, a group of angry protestors leapt out of the bushes and overran the stage.
Cooper’s FBI idiots grabbed him and dragged him away to a safe distance. My heroes.
At least he was still able to see the action. Most of the protestors wielded crude weapons. The police officers sprang to action, but didn’t use their guns, probably because of the audience. They did a fine job defending against the small mob, until the leader of the attack group pulled out an electrogun and blasted one of officers.
On stage, the stupid androids just sat there. One even took a few blows to the head. Then Wells said something to them and the android squad jumped up, ripping through the protestors like a snowplow, spewing a pile of moaning bodies in their wake.
Cooper stood dumbfounded, gaping at the blur of efficiency as the androids dispatched the attackers without electrifying or killing any of them.
Cooper’s companions were entranced by the amazing display as well. They stood in front of Cooper, pointing and nodding.
The crowd cheered and filtered back toward the chairs.
During the confusion and celebration, two big, burly guys in golf shirts grabbed Cooper’s arms and pulled him away, losing his FBI guards in the returning crowd.
Cooper decided not to resist, since one of them poked a gun in his ribs. At least he thought it was a gun.
“Hey, fellas. What’s the occasion? Oh, and stop me if you’ve heard this one—is that a gun in your pocket or…?”
One of his kidnappers shoved him into an alcove between the side of a building and a group of
trees, cutting Cooper off. These guys had no sense of humor. Probably androids. Cooper couldn’t get away from them today.
Once they were hidden, the other one pulled a silver disk the size of a manhole cover out from under his shirt and put it on the ground. Good thing Cooper hadn’t tried to punch him in the gut. When he pushed a button in the center of the disk, it expanded upward, rising to over seven feet tall, with a glistening barrier connecting the top to the bottom like a force field. The guy pointed to the oval opening.
“Wait. Is that a…? No way. I’m not going in there.” Cooper backed away. He had never seen one before, but he had a stinking suspicion the device was a portable pop travel transport dock. He did not want to be the first human to try it out. Not even if Hasan had built it himself.
Cooper was now positive these kidnappers were androids, judging by their vibrant personalities and superhuman strength as they threw Cooper into the chamber and sealed him in. He banged on the walls, but the strange, solid substance slowly constricted around him, conforming to within an inch of his body, restraining him. Where were his bodyguards when he needed them?
As a sweet-smelling gas filled the tiny gap between him and the electric suit, Cooper saw his useless FBI detail dash around the corner. He smiled at them before he lost consciousness.
Beasley Hills Plantation
Monday, June 22, 2082
ooper opened his eyes, closed them, rubbed them, and blinked them open again. It looked like he was at Hasan’s plantation, but that didn’t seem right.
He focused on the faces around him. Hasan, Aimee, and a beautiful, exotic, dark-haired woman with sparkling, deep blue eyes, all stared at him in the receiving dock. The new woman was very attractive, with honey-brown skin almost as dark as Hasan’s. Standing with her hip cocked and arms crossed, there was something familiar about the snarky smirk on her full lips that said, Not you again.
