Android: Mimic (The Identity Trilogy)

by Mel Odom

  The man tried to grab me, but one of his arms was broken and the other skidded across my leg but couldn’t find purchase. I grasped the protective cage over the operator’s head in my free hand and hoped I had calculated properly. Instead of being pulled over as I had hoped, the exosuit swayed and stubbornly held its ground.

  I dangled from my arm, my grip tight and inflexible as my momentum played out. I swung and dropped and kicked my feet into the backs of the exosuit’s knees. Off balance, the exosuit toppled backward. Narrowly avoiding the crashing unit, I rolled to one side and shoved the Synap through the protective cage covering the man’s head without touching any of the metal bars surrounding him. I squeezed the trigger and lit him up in blue. The banshee howl squalled around us and the man seized up into unconsciousness.

  Bullets slammed into my back. I stayed low to protect the prone man in the exosuit, and wheeled around to face my last two attackers. Ten meters away, one of them took cover behind one of the tractor engines. I shot him with the Synap and he slumped to the ground.

  I took a brief moment to lay a hand on the man in the exosuit and got a quick biometric reading. He was in no danger. All his stats were within acceptable ranges.

  I crossed over to the other unconscious man and confiscated his weapon, shoving it into my duster pocket. Then I headed toward the back of the warehouse, looking around for the last man.

  As I got closer, I saw more and more of the production line. I recorded everything I saw. Closer inspection of the operation allowed me to surmise that the facility was designed for the construction of weapons, compact slug-throwers that would be deadly in the hands of whomever they were intended for.

  I searched for any human component of the setup. Even with so much of the systems automated, there had to be someone in charge. To the right, I detected an observation booth on a second floor level that allowed the two men behind the transplas window to oversee the assembly lines. The man I’d been searching for ran up the steps to join them.

  I headed toward them, but in the next instant the room exploded, vomiting out chemically enhanced flames that burned blue and green. The blast lifted me from my feet and threw me backward as the plasboard crates all around me caught fire.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The first wave of NAPD officers arrived in small mini-hoppers used to navigate the public walkways of Heinlein. The vehicles were box-shaped and only carried two officers in tandem, one seated after the other. In the microgravity, the mini-hoppers could be extremely difficult to control.

  I strode from the burning warehouse with one of my attackers laid over my shoulder, dragging another by his shirt collar. Smoke rolled from the warehouse and pooled against the ceiling, turning the environment steadily darker. I also knew the humans were struggling to breathe with the toxins in the air.

  The warehouse complex had already closed off the tunnel and kicked in extra vent systems to suck the smoke away so the air could be scrubbed clean. I heard the massive makeup air vents whirling, sounding almost asthmatic as they rattled and wheezed.

  “Detective Drake?” The lead officer was Sergeant Boone. I had never met him, but my PAD pinged his e-ID and identified him from the NAPD database. He was tall and thick. A rebreather mask covered his face and blurred his features.

  “I am.” I placed the two men beside the others. “These men need medical treatment and something to prevent the smoke inhalation that threatens them.”

  “Maybe you should step back from those men now.” Boone waved his pistol, not bothering to put it away.

  I did as he directed, then took a moment to brush at the live embers still clinging to my duster. The fire inside the warehouse was going to consume nearly all of the contents. Most of what had been inside had already been reduced to ash and slag.

  Boone nodded at his companion. “Rudy, get a drone in there.”

  “Yes, sir.” The young officer retreated to the back of their mini-hopper as eight other policemen tightened ranks around us. Rudolpho Chavez, I identified him as well, took a small device from the rear compartment of the mini-hopper. He set the drone on the ground, then connected an interface to his helmet.

  The drone shivered for a moment as it unfolded eight thin legs and rose up on them. Then it twitched its unfurled sensor antennae and scuttled into the warehouse.

  I focused on Boone. “Sergeant, is a medical unit en route?”

  “Right behind us.” Boone still hadn’t put his weapon away. The other officers had theirs in hand as well. “Want to tell me what happened?”

  “During my apprehension of two wanted fugitives,” I held my hand palm up and flashed images of Boc and Karasz, then nodded to the two men lying in the pile of humans I had rescued from the warehouse, “a firefight broke out. I engaged and subdued them.”

  “Why didn’t you call for backup before you approached them?”

  “I believed there was a possibility they would leave before backup could arrive.”

  Boone frowned, obviously not believing me.

  Shelly stood at my side. “So he’s not a fan. No big deal, partner. Just keep telling your story. If you tell it long enough, it becomes the truth.”

  “How did the warehouse get set on fire?”

  “There was an illegal manufacturing plant inside behind a false wall.” I played video of that as well, making sure I included the opening of the hidden wall. “Someone set off explosive charges inside that room that I believe were designed to conceal or confuse the details of the operation.”

  Boone glanced over his shoulder at his young partner. “What do you have?”

  Chavez shook his head. His vision was currently linked to the drone inside the warehouse. “It’s a mess in there, Sarge. Looks like it’s going to burn a while. Whoever set that blaze knew what they were doing.”

  Boone cursed.

  Even from where I stood, I could feel the heat and knew that it was enough to make the humans uncomfortable.

  Boone glared at me. “Did you know that weapons facility was there?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You just happened to find it?”

  “It was revealed during my efforts to apprehend Boc and Karasz, yes.”

  “Why did you follow these two men out here?”

  “I didn’t.”

  Behind the transplas mask, Boone’s eyes narrowed. “Then how did you find them out here?”

  “I saw them when they came to this warehouse.”

  Boone took in a breath. “What were you doing out here, Drake?”

  “Searching for black market contraband.” That was the truth now. I would also note the origin point of the crates that had been stolen when Holder had died.

  “Where’s your partner?”

  “My guess would be that he is at home. That was where he was headed when I last saw him.”

  “Did he decide not to join you on this rat hunt?”

  That was a hard question to answer. The simple truth was that I had decided to come alone after Royo had turned me down, but if I told that version of the story and it was later decided that Royo was remiss in his decision not to accompany me, his career could be harmed. My subroutines dictated that I protect him as much as I could. His presence with me would not have drastically affected events at the warehouse.

  “The possibility of finding contraband was a small one, Sergeant. I chose to investigate it on my own time. I do not need to sleep, and I am responsible for my own work schedule to a degree.” It was close enough to the truth, deviating only enough to protect Royo, that I had no problem telling the story that way.

  Behind the police officers, the white-suited emergency technicians arrived in their mini-hoppers. They ran to the downed men when Boone waved them over. Quickly and carefully, the medical people equipped the downed men with protective masks.

  Boone’s attention suddenly shifted from me. He turned and walked a short distance away so that he could be alone. I knew he was having a conversation over his comm from the intensity wi
th which he listened, and I knew things weren’t pleasant from the deepening frown. When he was finished listening, he turned around to the group.

  “All right, pack it up. We’re leaving.”

  That decision made me uncomfortable. “Why?”

  “Because we got orders to do that, Drake. Now fall in. You’re wanted back at HQ ASAP. Captain Karanjai wants to speak with you about this mess.”

  “What about the evidence here? We need to take it into custody.”

  Boone fixed me with a heated gaze. “We got our orders. This is out of our hands.”

  Hardly had the words left his mouth than a small army of security guards poured into the tunnel, walking boldly past the NAPD officers. They wore riot gear and their faces were hidden by camo masks that reduced their features to black holes.

  Boone glared at me some more. “We lost control of this site because we didn’t follow proper discovery, Drake. This is a private sector, beyond the reach of the NAPD by government charter. You’re not supposed to be here in any legal capacity. The department’s gonna be lucky if it isn’t sued for all the damage done here today.”

  I had known that the warehouse district was off-limits without probable cause, but I’d believed I’d had it when I found Boc and Karasz. The way we were made to pull back from the site defied logic.

  But I went because I had no choice.

  * * *

  I sat outside Captain Karanjai’s office because I had been ordered to. I felt useless, which was a condition that I was programmed to avoid. I was supposed to do something at all times.

  The captain’s office was behind soundproof transplas windows. He had the transplas fogged so I couldn’t see through it, but I was able to put my fingers up against the glass and pick up the sound vibrations.

  The conversation didn’t go well. He was locked into a heavy debate with three attorneys that identified themselves as protecting the interests of Vulcan Technologies. They vociferously denied any involvement on the part of Vulcan Technologies with what might “possibly” be an illegal arms manufacturing business.

  When Karanjai brought up the twenty-seven years of ownership of the warehouse by Skorpios Defense Systems and Argus, Inc., they debated that as well. Threats and lawsuits flew like fighter pilots in the Colony Wars on Mars.

  I kept pace with the breaking news in the media as well. Several prominent reporters, Lily Lockwell among them, stayed on top of the story and spun it out in all directions.

  NBN had gotten footage of the burning warehouse from somewhere, and I believed that it was probably from one of the police officers at the scene because none of the security guards were on hand. Lily Lockwell had been superimposed over the scene, but the finished product made it look like she was standing in front of the warehouse.

  “Behind me, you can see the carnage that was done only a short time ago.” Lily waved an arm toward the warehouse. “According to information I have received from a confidential source, this warehouse concealed an illegal munitions plant.”

  That was information that the lawyers talking with Karanjai wouldn’t be able to suppress. And threatening to sue the media didn’t work. The nosies only turned that into a news story as well.

  Lily Lockwell rolled on. “Given that Gordon Holder, CEO of Skorpios Defense Systems, was brutally killed two days ago, some investigators digging into this current criminal enterprise have begun speculating whether the two incidents are connected.”

  The vid of the tube car exploding filled the screen. This time, the vid view zoomed in on one of the crates and revealed the part of the manifest code I had spotted. In fact, it only took me a split nanosecond to realize the vid I was watching was what I had shot the other day. Somehow NBN had gotten their hands on my vid upload.

  Evidently the lawyers in Karanjai’s office had just gotten notification of the news piece. The captain opened his door and glanced over at me. “Drake. Get in here.”

  I stood and went.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ownership of Vulcan Technologies seems to be somewhat murky.”

  I stood between Captain Karanjai and the lawyers as we watched Lily Lockwell finish up her broadcast spot.

  “Forensic accountants employed by NBN are digging into the history of Vulcan Technologies. They have already uncovered the fact that Skorpios Defense Systems is the actual owner. As we reported a few months ago, there has been an increase in the number of unregistered weapons in the Martian colonies, and in the hands of the homegrown terrorists determined to push back Earthgov authority. In recent months, violence from Martian terrorists has continued to swell. As you look at this warehouse that contained an arms industry, you have to wonder how many of those weapons were manufactured right here.” Lily looked into the vid.

  “Kill the vid.” Reed Cranmer was the lead counsel among the three lawyers crowding Karanjai’s office. Cranmer was a tall, imposing man that looked like he’d been modeled on a Greek god. His hair was gold, as was his fiercely jutting beard. His blue suit held a metallic shimmer. He stood a head taller than Karanjai.

  Despite Cranmer’s hostile authority, the captain remained calm and unflappable. He tapped a remote control on his desk and the now-blank monitor screen recessed into the wall again. His office was neat and organized, and I thought it represented his position and the NAPD well. There were just enough photographs of his family to warm the room, and just enough images on the wall of Karanjai with political and corporate figures to be impressive.

  “Who leaked that information?” Cranmer stood with his arms folded over his chest.

  “What information would that be, Counselor?” Karanjai leaned a hip against his modest desk that was immaculate and neat.

  “The information the reporter just announced.”

  Karanjai spoke in a soft voice. “The information about there being an illegal munitions manufacturing operation in the back of that warehouse? Or the fact that the warehouse is owned by Skorpios Defense Systems?”

  “That’s all hearsay.”

  “No, I’ve got vid of the munitions plant in operation.” Karanjai turned to me.

  I turned my hand upside down and projected the vid of the gun manufacturing business in my palm.

  “This—” Cranmer caught himself before he said man. “—thing was not at the warehouse legally.”

  “Detective Drake was following up on a lead.”

  “It had no warrant, therefore everything it has recorded is inadmissible as evidence. There’s not a judge in the megapolis that will allow that vid in.”

  “Perhaps not, Counselor, but it’s more than enough for me to keep a team of investigators working on that investigation.”

  Cranmer’s expression turned to ice. “Be careful that you don’t overstep yourself, Captain.”

  “I will, Counselor. Just make sure you don’t get asked to conceal something too big to hide.”

  Cranmer smiled. “I’m very good at what I do, Captain. Rely on that, and fear it.”

  “Sure.” Karanjai kept his arms folded over his chest and didn’t look a bit impressed. “Just keep in mind that a lawyer who knowingly hides criminal activity—especially terrorist action—can be tried for conspiracy along with his employers. And then we can talk about disbarment on top of that. Of course, that’s not handled in this department. We’ll just lock you up.”

  “I demand to know who sent that vid to NBN.”

  “I want to know, too. When I know, you’ll know. I’m sure you’ll afford me the same courtesy.”

  Cranmer cursed and shifted his piercing gaze to me. “Did you give that vid to NBN?”

  I glanced at Karanjai, who nodded his assent. Freed to speak, I faced Cranmer. “No, Counselor, I did not.”

  “Do you admit that vid footage was what you took at the scene?”

  Before I could answer, Karanjai held up a hand, never taking his eyes from Cranmer’s. He punched commands into his PAD and a clean image of the gun manufacturing equipment formed in holo above his desk. Th
e equipment and the product were unmistakable.

  “Are you saying that vid feed is accurate, Counselor?” The captain’s voice was cold and confident.

  Cranmer hesitated as he stared at the image. “Of course I’m not saying that.”

  Karanjai smiled. “Because you had no prior knowledge of that hidden facility.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And if Detective Drake confirms that this is, indeed, the vid he shot in that warehouse, are you willing to stipulate that the vid is conclusive of what was there?”

  Cranmer’s elegant face pinched in displeasure. “No, I’m willing to stipulate nothing.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “I still want to know if your detective is responsible for this media story.”

  “He isn’t.”

  “You’re going to answer for him?”

  “Yes. Unless you want me to get Haas-Bioroid in here to talk with you as well.”

  Cranmer looked like he’d swallowed something distasteful. As big as Skorpios Defense Systems was, it wasn’t nearly as large or as formidable as Haas-Bioroid.

  “I didn’t think you would.”

  “I’m not satisfied with this investigation, Captain.”

  “Good. That makes two of us.”

  Cranmer aimed a finger at Karanjai with enough threat that I almost stepped in between them. The captain saw me start to move and gestured with his left hand, never drawing attention from the attorneys in front of him but giving me plenty of command to stand my ground.

  “Tread carefully, Captain.” Cranmer’s voice was tight and bordering on hoarse with restraint. “You’re playing with fire.”

  Karanjai shook his head. “Not me, Counselor. Whoever put that munitions plant in the back of that warehouse is. And now they’re about to get burned. Not only are they going to lose whatever was in that warehouse, but I’m going to be looking for them. Tell your people not to make a misstep.”

  “My people are not involved in this.”