AndroDigm Park 2067

by JMJ Williamson

  “Why not? I have over five million pleasure and pain sensors in my body and I am programmed to provide the same sexual experience as any human female.”

  “And you have sex with him?”

  “Of course. Sometimes twice a day. He has a voracious appetite for sex including all types.”

  “All types? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want the details.” So, all that stuff about remaining professional was bullshit. He was using the fembot to relieve his manly urges. She knew some guys used them. Fembots were expensive toys of the rich and famous and in these days of sexual freedom there wasn’t any stigma attached to using them. Even so, Scarlet found it weird. He wasn’t the man she thought he was.

  “But you should know. You slept with him last night,” said Jess.

  “What? No, I didn’t.”

  “But you did. I can tell when you’re lying. Your eyes blink more rapidly than normal and your breathing changes. It’s part of my military programming to understand prisoner interrogation.”

  “Okay, we slept in the same bed together, but nothing happened.”

  “I don’t believe you. You’re a sex worker.”

  “Sex worker? I was a barmaid. Okay, we hugged. I got cold, freezing, and he tried to warm me up with his body heat. We hugged together. That’s all. Nothing happened.”

  Scarlet wondered what the android made of her explanation. She had told the truth, and the android should be able to determine that from her sensors. The android’s behaviour was strange. Although androids could form strong attachments to their owners, it did not usually extend to jealousy. Scarlet had to be careful. Jess was capable of killing humans, as she had already shown.

  “You are not seeking to replace me?” said Jess.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Is that what you thought?”

  The android nodded.

  “From what you say, he obviously likes you… adores you. Me? Well, he doesn’t like me at all. He hasn’t had a pleasant word to say about me since we met. And he hasn’t called back as he promised. So I don’t care if I ever see him again. You’ve got nothing to fear from me.”

  “Shelby said I should stay and watch over you.”

  “That’s a kind offer, but I just want to be on my own. I’m sure I’ll be safe here.”

  “Thank you, for fixing my voice box. Goodbye.”

  “You’re welcome. And thank you for the clothes.”

  Scarlet saw Jess out of the apartment and breathed a sigh of relief. Like her mother, she knew everything there was to know about androids. There was a common myth that Androids could not harm humans. But that only applied to androids that were programmed to put human safety above their own. Military droids were programmed to kill, and Jess had a fully functional military chip.

  Scarlet sighed. She had liked Shelby. But she couldn’t get the thought of him screwing the android out of her head. He was just like all the other men she had met: obsessed with sex.

  * * *

  Shelby headed to his apartment to pick up some files he needed. He had made little progress on an old case for some time and he reasoned that if he didn’t get hold of the files soon, it might be too difficult later. He had killed six of the Morelli family, including Franco’s son, Vincent. The chances were there was already a contract out to kill him. The most obvious point of attack was his apartment.

  As he approached the apartment block, he looked around him for potential sniper positions.

  If he were looking to kill someone in his apartment, where would he fire from? His eyes focused on an apartment block over-looking his block. Just where he expected the best sniper position to be located, he saw an open window: a tell-tale sign that there might be a sniper lurking there.

  The door of the apartment block opened, and a woman came out. Shelby caught the door before it closed. He intended to pay the suspect apartment a visit and climbed the stairs until he was outside the apartment. Shelby fed a long thin flexible tubular device fitted with a miniature camera under the door, and looked at the attached screen. He was right: an assassin was in the room. She was sat away from the window with a sniper rifle trained on his apartment. Shelby placed a small box-like device over the door’s lock. After a second, the box glowed a pale shade of green indicating the lock had been opened. Shelby drew his gun and opened the door.

  “Special Marshal… you’re under arrest.”

  The assassin tried to turn. Shelby fired, hitting her in the shoulder and spinning her around.

  “Shit!” cried a female voice.

  “Move away from your weapon.”

  She did as she was told and raised her good arm. Shelby moved closer to her. She was young, maybe in her early to mid-twenties, with long dark hair and wore a tight leather suit and long leather boots. Expensive — this was an assassin that could command a high fee. She had dropped a handgun and Shelby kicked it away.

  He tossed her a police tag for her leg. “Put it on.”

  She gulped. “This is for mortuary collection. You’re going to kill me.”

  “I will if you don’t put it on.”

  She put the device on her leg. “Please, don’t kill me. I have a daughter. She’s five.”

  “You should have thought about that before choosing your profession. Give me your ID.”

  She tossed him a card, and he scanned it on his wrist-band computer. The computer projected a small holographic image of the woman and her daughter. She was telling the truth. He tossed the card back.

  “Tell me, who you’re working for?”

  “I’m not. There’s a bounty on your head.”

  “And how much is it now?”

  “Five hundred thousand credits. You’re worth a lot dead.”

  “And the other mark?”

  “Just you. No one else. Please don’t kill me.” She smiled. “We’re the same. You’re a killer too. But we’re both just doing a job to pay the bills… You think I’m attractive. I can tell. I can give you pleasure. It’s good karma. Just let me live. Please.”

  “You’ll do anything?”

  She nodded.

  “Put your right hand on the floor.”

  She frowned at him, but did as she was told.

  He walked over to her and pointed the gun at her head.

  “Please don’t!”

  He lifted his boot and stamped his heel onto her right hand and ground it until he heard the bones crack.

  She screamed in agony. “Damn. You bastard.”

  He moved his boot and she grabbed her hand and cradled it with her other hand.

  “Shit. That hurt. You’ve broken it.”

  “That’s the point. You won’t be working for a while. I’m giving you a chance. The device on your leg works up to twenty miles. Get outside the range before Angel City PD finds you, and you’ll be free. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t try to come back to Angel City or next time I won’t be so generous. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “I guess you’ve got about five minutes before the Angel PD arrive. Go.”

  He watched her get up and leave. A few minutes later, he saw her from the window running to her vehicle and then leaving at high speed. He wondered if she would try to return. But it would be difficult for her to shoot with the wound to her shoulder and a crushed hand.

  He picked up the sniper rifle she left. It was an expensive bolt-action rifle with customised high-velocity fifty-millimetre ammunition, just like his own. He looked through the optics at his apartment. It was empty. If he was to retrieve his files, this was a good time to do it.

  Shelby left the assassin’s apartment and went over to his apartment. Outside the door, he pushed the long thin flexible tubular camera under the door. No one in the apartment, but there could be booby traps. He examined the inside door. It was clean.

  Shelby used his wrist computer to check whether the security system inside his apartment had identified any risks. It was a crude system based around hidden
cameras in the apartment. If anyone had entered, it would have recorded it. The computer flashed green. He opened the door.

  Inside the apartment, he had a wall covered in stick-on notes and various pieces of information about his wife and daughter’s case. Some of the pictures from the crime scene were gruesome. Seeing his dead wife and child like that always hurt. But it reminded him of what he needed to do: to find their killers and kill them.

  He didn't have time to take down all the details. So he picked up two paper files and a pen drive, which contained the most crucial details of the case.

  Before leaving the apartment, he picked up a visual cube from the bedside table that had the photographs of his wife and daughter displayed. It was the only personal possession he still valued. He threw some clothes into a holdall and left for the Justice Building.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Back at the Justice Building, Shelby presented his badge to the office administrator. She allocated him a workstation. He had a mountain of work to complete on the Morelli arrest and the subsequent gun battle. It was the job he hated most — reports.

  Six hours later, exhausted and suffering from the effects of consuming excessive amounts of coffee during the day, he finished his report and uploaded it to central administration. He looked at his watch — it was 21:30. He thought of Scarlet in her room, bored out of her mind and angry that he hadn’t got back to her. The alternative was to have a cold beer at Rosie’s Tavern. The choice was easy to make.

  * * *

  Rosie’s Tavern was a dive where the proprietor provided naked female dancers for its customers in return for overpriced liquor. But Shelby wasn’t there for the show. It was his local drinking hole: somewhere to go when he wanted to drink himself into oblivion. Another attraction was Rosie, the proprietor. Since the death of his wife and daughter, she was the nearest thing he had to a female friend. It was a relationship without romance or sex, but which provided an understanding shoulder to cry on when life became unbearable.

  Shelby strolled into the bar and sat on the bar stool next to a man with a solid build.

  “Shelby, you’ve got a nerve turning up here,” the man said, slapping Shelby on the shoulder. “And you’re still wearing that crappy armour.” It was Jim Cordite, another special marshal who also frequented Rosie’s Tavern.

  “Thought I might see you here.”

  “You nailed Vincent Morelli, and most of the Morelli clan.”

  “Is that news public knowledge?”

  “The word gets around. You’ve really pissed off Franco Morelli this time. From what I’ve heard there’s a one hundred thousand credit bounty on your head.”

  “Your information is out of date — it’s five hundred thousand.”

  “There’s no reason to brag.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Whatever. Every punk in the neighbourhood must be looking for you. It’s insane you being here. They’ve also brought in an expensive hitter from the Apple City.”

  “I know. We’ve been introduced.”

  “You’re crazy. You need to disappear. Fast.”

  Shelby looked around him measuring up those that might pose a risk to him. Some he recognised as familiar faces, others seemed oblivious to the fact there were two special marshals at the bar, and others that may have recognised him moved away.

  Rosie walked over to him with a big smile on her face. “What are you doing here? You know it’s the first place they’ll look.”

  “No, it's probably the second. I can see you’ve missed me.”

  “What do you mean? You walk in and half my customers walk out. You two are both bad for business.”

  “Whisky — double. Give him one as well, and have one yourself,” said Shelby.

  Rosie picked up the bottle and poured them all large measures.

  “Where’s your droid?”

  “Baby sitting someone in protective custody. Talking about droids, have you seen any of those new third generation ones?” said Shelby.

  Rosie laughed. “You won’t see any droids around here. They cost a fortune. My girls will give you a better bang for your buck and they’re one hundred per cent human and clean.”

  “I’ve seen them,” said Shelby. “They look human. You can’t tell the difference anymore.”

  “They’re also the first generation to be more efficient than humans. I know, one of the big cyber corporations made ninety percent of their middle management redundant yesterday. They’re replacing them with droids. It’s no wonder people are angry,” said Rosie. “They're taking our jobs.”

  “It won’t be long before they’re replacing us too,” said Jim. “The world’s gone mad.”

  “It's not fair. What are ordinary people expected to do, Shelby?”

  “Fornicate.”

  Rosie laughed.

  “I’m serious. Have you seen those new King Karma adverts?”

  “You mean the ones about the karma of love: spreading the joy, making someone happy and…”

  “Karma will repay you a hundredfold.”

  “Yeah, no one has repaid me, and I’ve done a lot of that business in my time,” said Rosie.

  “His ads are all over Angel City. You can’t go anywhere without seeing his smiling face on an electronic bill board,” said Shelby. “He’s not stupid. That joker’s made a fortune out of government sponsorship. The government will do anything to keep the unemployed masses happy — including sponsoring fornication.”

  “I heard there was a big Action Against Android demonstration several days ago. It got pretty nasty,” said Jim.

  “That wasn’t on the news,” said Rosie.

  “Embargoed,” said Jim.

  “What happened to press freedom?” said Rosie.

  “Sometimes it’s necessary,” said Shelby. “Remember the union riots three years ago when droids were first introduced into the workplace. Hundreds were killed with widespread looting and destruction. The last thing the politicians want right now is a repeat performance.”

  “But it’s not right that the politicians suck up to the cyber companies,” said Rosie. "They're supposed to represent us."

  “The cyber companies have all the money and resources,” said Shelby. "They own the politicians."

  "It's corrupt," said Rosie.

  "All systems are corrupt," said Shelby. “It’s just that some systems are more corrupt than others. At least our system works: no one’s starving and there’s plenty of stuff in the shops. Not like…”

  The noise of a chair falling over made Shelby glance into the mirror behind the bar. A young punk walked up behind him and pulled a gun. Shelby’s right hand was inside his pocket and fired without taking the gun out of his pocket. The bullet caught the punk in the centre of the chest toppling him backwards. At the same time, the punk fired hitting Jim Cordite in the back. Shelby caught Cordite before his body hit the floor.

  “Where’s your armour?” Shelby shouted.

  “I was relaxing, having a drink,” said Cordite. “Some people like to leave their work behind them,” he said, spitting out the words through clenched teeth.

  “Get an air ambulance, quick,” yelled Shelby.

  Rosie handed him a towel that he used to stop the bleeding until the ambulance arrived. Two hours later, he was at the hospital with Rosie waiting to find out whether Jim Cordite would make it.

  Cordite’s surgeon came to meet them.

  “Surgery went well. He was lucky — the bullet missed his vital organs.” The surgeon nodded and left them.

  “He’s always been a lucky bastard,” said Shelby.

  “It’s not your fault,” said Rosie.

  “I know. But I should have seen it coming. That bullet was meant for me. Now he’ll think I owe him.”

  “You know Jim retired from the Marshall’s Office last month? He had a big send off.”

  “No, I didn’t. I don’t think he invited me… Damn. His Justice Department medical cover would have lapsed on retirement.”

 
; Shelby saw the doctor return.

  “Hey Doc, any medical expenses for Jim Cordite you can send to me, Marshal Shelby, at the Justice Department. I’ll get them paid.”

  “Thanks.”

  “That’s generous of you,” said Rosie.

  “Just don’t tell the bastard, or I’ll never hear the last of it.”

  “You know it could cost thousands here.”

  “The bounty on the Morelli arrest was a big one. It should cover it.”

  “But weren’t you going to use it to fund your sabbatical.”

  Shelby sighed. “That will have to wait for now.”

  “You like the old dog, don’t you?” she said.

  Shelby smiled. “Can’t stand him.”

  “You're stressed. Why don’t you come back to my place tonight and I’ll help you relax?”

  “I need a good night’s sleep, not a fuck.”

  “Then that’s what you’ll get. I’ve got a spare bed. It won’t take long to make it up. Unless you want to share mine.”

  “The spare bed will do.”

  “Okay.”

  * * *

  Rosie’s apartment was modest. Tavern owners are not poor, but nor are they part of the rich elite. Her apartment had two bedrooms and a central living area with cooking facilities. Rosie had offered to take him back to her apartment many times before, but this was the first time he had accepted.

  He knew Rosie had the hots for him and had never stopped trying, but until then he had the strength to resist. Maybe he should just go along with it. She was an attractive lady, and he hadn’t had sex for over a year.

  “Make yourself at home,” she said, passing him a half-full bottle of Scotch. It was the brand he normally drank. “I’m going to freshen up and get into my night clothes.”

  Shelby smiled back. “You sure you’re okay with this. It might be dangerous associating with me. There’s a bounty on my head.”

  “I like to live dangerously,” she said, and disappeared into the bedroom.

  He poured himself a large Scotch. He held it up. “Here’s to you Cordite. Sorry I got you shot.”

  “What’s that?” she said from the bedroom.

  “Just talking to myself. First sign of madness.”