Malveaux’s words had planted the seed of doubt, and now it was bearing fruit. She believed he wasn’t qualified to work this case, and he was quickly coming to the same conclusion. A word with the captain was in order. He would simply ask to be reassigned. Sadao should find it easy to put him on a case better suited to his abilities.
As soon as they reached the precinct, Adam headed to the captain’s office. Sadao was busy fielding holo-calls when Adam arrived. Sadao quickly hung up and waved Adam inside. “How are things going with your new partner?”
“That’s actually why I came to see you, Captain. I believe I should work a different case.”
Sadao frowned as he asked, “What makes you say that? Is Malveaux putting ideas in your head?”
“I've read every text on serial killers I could find on the webs. I know all the facts, but it still defies my understanding. What could motivate men to commit such violent crimes? To inflict such pain?”
Sadao flashed him an understanding smile and said, ”It isn't something you can read up on in a book. Experience will be your best teacher.”
“What do I do in the meantime?”
“Use the tools at your disposal.”
A pensive Adam considered Sadao’s words long after he left the office
Use the tools at your disposal.
After some consideration, Adam planned to follow Sadao’s advice. Adam knew that humanity was driven more by emotion than intellect, but the opposite was true of him. The dark emotions fueling these murders might be beyond his comprehension, but perhaps he could locate other patterns. With a renewed sense of resolve, he began to dig deeper into the backgrounds of the two murder victims.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ADAM HAD ASKED Malveaux to join him in the main conference room, and she now faced him from across the large oval table. Apparently Adam had found a new connection between the two dead cyberneticists.
She’d spent the last few hours interviewing the neighbors back at the Dr. Gold’s building, hoping a witness might crawl out of the woodwork. She talked to dealers who hawked chemical bliss in poorly lit hallways and gangbangers whittling their days away playing hoops. It turned out to be an exercise in frustration. No one had heard or seen anything…or at least they weren’t talking. She hoped Adam’s day had been more productive.
“All right, so what ya got?”
Adam launched straight into his findings. “As you know, both Shoji and Gold had stopped working for Synthetika. Six months ago, they each received a money transfer in the amount of six million dollars from M-Tech, an Australian based mining company.”
Malveaux let out a low whistle. “Now why does a mining company hire two cyberneticists?”
“According to the documents I accessed, our victims were supposed to upgrade the computer systems of their mining equipment. The idea was to give M-Tech’s mining machinery a technological overhaul. Ensure their line was up to date. Pretty standard work for retired cyberneticists…”
When they’re not fixing up pleasure mechs for sleazeballs like Core, Malveaux thought. She picked up the hesitation in Adam’s voice. “Something about it doesn’t feel right, though?”
“The work wasn’t exactly challenging,” Adam said. “Most companies could hire specialists for a fraction of the money M-Tech paid the two victims.”
“So why does a company struggling to stay afloat throw that much money around?”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Malveaux chewed it over for another moment and said, “Maybe Shoji and Gold weren’t merely upgrading their workforce. Maybe they were doing something more risky.”
“You mean like something illegal?”
Malveaux nodded. “Keep digging into M-Tech. See what else you can find. Anything else?”
“Yes. I crosschecked all banks for any other cyberneticists who might have received a similar payment from M-Tech. I discovered one more name.”
The holo-image of a bald man materialized over the table. Hyper-intelligent eyes dominated ascetic features.
“Dr. Malcolm Cain, one of the top cyberneticists at Synthetika. He resigned a year ago, reasons unknown.”
Malveaux studied the man. There was an intensity to the lean face, a cold and laser-like intelligence. “Let’s pay the good doctor a visit and see what he has to say.”
Energized by the new lead, they rode the elevator down to the parking structure. As Malveaux maneuvered through traffic, she pondered what Adam had told her. They had three cyberneticists who had clearly collaborated on a project for this mining company. On paper, everything looked legit. A foreign corporation going after talent. Only problem was they were paying top dollar for a routine service. Under normal circumstances no one would give it much thought—but these murders were anything but normal.
A half hour later, they pulled into the parking area of the gated community where Dr. Cain lived. Malveaux took the lead as they entered the complex and passed through a sterile, quiet corridor. There was no sign of a living soul.
Guards up, they approached Cain’s unit, which was located at the end of the empty hallway. For a moment, Malveaux wondered if anyone actually lived in this pristine yet forlorn building. She enjoyed hearing signs of life near her home. Traffic, neighbors cranking up their music, couples fighting. A human heartbeat. This luxury building with its soundproof units made her think of a high-tech tomb.
She knocked on the door. There was no answer.
Malveaux drew her weapon and nodded at Adam. “How about you interface with the unit’s locking system?”
Adam accessed the security system and produced immediate results. As the door zoomed open, Malveaux realized with growing disbelief that they were working together like real partners.
Weapon out, she entered Dr. Cain’s apartment. A few steps in, she gagged as a powerful stench of decay assaulted her nostrils. Fortunately a half-eaten, mold-covered meal was the cause for the bad smell and not Cain’s decaying body. Closer investigation of the place confirmed another growing suspicion—no one had set foot in the apartment in weeks. A mountain of unwashed dishes sat in the sink, and a thick layer of dust caked the furniture.
Malveaux stepped up to the cyberneticist’s computer workstation. She holstered her weapon and slipped on a pair of forensic gloves. No point in contaminating a potential crime scene. Dr. Cain’s absence and the sorry state of his home didn’t bode well. It appeared the killer might’ve gotten to him first, confirming that the M-Tech payday might be the link to these murders. A link that Adam had unearthed, she reminded herself. His ability to access and hack hundred of databases and streams of data was paying off big time.
Gloves snuggly fitted, she rummaged through Dr. Cain’s desk and papers. As she inspected the contents of Cain’s work station, she uncovered a collection of pamphlets. Her confusion grew as she studied the printed material more closely.
Noticing Adam’s interest, she held up one of the small booklets. Her partner showed no emotion as he studied the cover, which featured a smiling family gathered around a bonfire of burning mech bodies. The innocent, cartoony artwork highlighted the family’s exaggerated bright smiles and stood in sharp contrast with the literature’s message. The headline read: HDL—WORKING FOR A BETTER FUTURE.
Adam regarded the pamphlet, visibly fascinated. “The Human Defense League. Founded five years ago by Atari Raspell, a real estate tycoon convinced that androids threatened the future of mankind. The organization has ballooned in numbers since its inception and counts over a million members in the U.S. alone. The organization is suspected of financing some of the recent terrorist attacks, but there hasn’t been enough evidence to shut them down.” He paused and asked, “Why would a former top cyberneticist be holding on to android hate literature?”
Malveaux shrugged and studied a holo-picture hovering next to the computer. It showed a pretty woman in her early thirties leaning against Cain. Their arms were around each other, clearly in love to judge from their smiles. “Looks like Cain
had a sweetheart,” she said.
“I detect two sets of fingerprints all over the apartment. I’m cross-checking print databases,” Adam noted. A moment later, he said, “Her name is Dr. Aria Del. A cyberneticist who worked closely with Dr. Malcolm Cain. She got engaged to him over a year ago.”
“So both Cain and his fiancée are missing.” Malveaux frowned, thinking. “Let’s see what we can find on Cain’s computer.”
Malveaux tapped the keypad and then jerked back, stifling a cry. A hideous wax figure glared back at them. This was a twisted funhouse mirror version of the vibrant woman in the holo-picture frame. The features were sunken in and emaciated, skin stretched taut against the skull. Sores pockmarked the shriveled skin.
“What the fuck?” Malveaux leaned closer and the figure’s eyes snapped open, sending a renewed shiver through her. The pitiful creature shot her a pleading look, and Malveaux sensed the madness and fear behind the wide-eyed gaze. The figure’s bleached lips distorted into a scream and a voice burst from the computer’s speakers, a broken screech which seemed to emanate from beyond the grave: “Help me!”
Malveaux regarded the terminal’s blinking camera. Jesus Christ, this was happening in real time.
“These images are currently being streamed,” Adam confirmed.
In a voice bereft of emotion, Malveaux said, “Track down the signal.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
FORKS OF LIGHTNING speared the dark sky followed by booming thunder. Furious gusts of rain lashed the San Francisco Bay as a jet-black police hovercraft hung suspended over the foaming water's surface, its engines drowned out by the raging elements. The thrumming rain blended with the ghostly crackle and hiss of voices popping from Adam and Malveaux’s comlinks.
They stood on the vessel’s command deck. Malveaux had slipped into a skin-tight wetsuit and was checking the readings on her scuba equipment. Three other police divers were following her example, making final preparations for the impending dive.
After Adam had run a trace on the video transmission on Cain’s computer, he’d narrowed down the source signal to their current location.
The middle of the Bay, Malveaux thought. What the fuck is going on?
Adam leaned against the craft's railing, face tilted up at the rain.
“Doesn’t rain too much on the colonies, does it?” Malveaux said.
Adam shook his head.
“What's it like out there?”
“You’ve never been off-world?” Adam sounded surprised.
Malveaux smiled. The mech didn’t realize that space travel was an experience reserved for a privileged class of specialists at this point in the colonization process. “I don’t even like to fly.”
“You're missing out. Earth is quite beautiful from space.”
“Kinda deceptive, isn't it?”
Adam turned away, falling back into silence. Malveaux scolded herself. Adam had a knack for bringing out her sarcastic side. She still wasn’t crazy about this partnership, but she was beginning to accept the AI. To a degree. She hated to admit it but this humanlike machine was proving himself—itself, she corrected—in the field. She knew she’d been hard on him, but she had good reasons for disliking mechs. Personal reasons.
A gust of wet air reminded her why they were here, and she donned her diving helmet. As it snapped into her suit, she flashed Adam a quick smile from behind the faceplate. Following the other police divers, she hurled herself backward into the churning water.
A world of silence and darkness awaited. The freezing cold water seemed to penetrate her insulated suit, and she was gripped with a cloying sense of claustrophobia. The crushing weight of the river pressed down on her sinus cavities and her breath snagged. It took a concentrated effort to stave off the feeling of panic fraying her awareness, and she suddenly questioned the wisdom of having volunteered for the dive.
Malveaux mentally counted to ten and focused on her breathing.
In and out, in and out.
The nauseating plastic taste of her breather wasn’t helping, but within thirty seconds she began to adjust and her training kicked in. Her handheld flashlight knifed the thick, oily brew, and she followed the finger of light as it raked the river-bed. Jagged, algae-encrusted rocks grew visible in the blackness as she dove deeper. There was something reassuring about the ghostly, electronically distorted voices crackling over her diving helmet’s comm system. They served as a reminder that she wasn’t completely cut off from all humanity down here in the dark.
An object suddenly grew visible in the near distance. She whirled and waved at the other divers. Apparently they'd seen it too. Looming before them was an ominous metal coffin lodged between two large rocks.
Malveaux spoke into the helmet comm. “We got something!”
Without waiting for a response, she swam toward the strange tube, her fins cutting through the water with powerful strokes. As she drew closer, details jumped into focus. The tube appeared to be an escape pod of some kind, most likely from a colony vessel. Algae encased its metal skin. It must’ve been down here for weeks if not months.
Malveaux leaned against the object as she waited for the other divers to arrive. Dreading what she might find but unable to stop herself, she wiped off the thick film of crud from escape pod and directed her flashlight at the lid. Her heart jumped into her throat. Staring back at her in the spectral light was the living corpse from the holo-feed at Dr. Cain’s apartment.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SEARCHLIGHTS SLID OVER the Bay’s boiling surface. A ring of divers clustered around the bobbing escape pod in the water below. The hovership’s crane whirred to life and the chains attached to the pod creaked and groaned. The crane was working at full capacity, the straining motor audible over the incessant wind as it hoisted the pod into the air.
A half hour later, the escape pod had been successfully lowered to the deck, now ringed by Adam and a few other officers. Adam caught glimpses of the terrified woman inside the mud-covered capsule. Her lips worked spastically but no sound could be heard, at least not by any human ears. Adam’s enhanced senses managed to pick up the woman’s choked words loud and clear. She kept repeating one phrase.
“Kill me.”
Malveaux, still wearing her scuba suit, sidled up to him. As she closed in on the metal sarcophagus, her features softened, offering Adam a glimpse of the woman under the armor.
“You're safe now,” Malveaux whispered to the hapless victim in the tube even though Adam was pretty sure she couldn’t hear her. The words were meant as much for herself as the pitiful victim. “Everything will be alright,” Malveaux continued as she tilted her head at the other cops. “Get her out of that fucking contraption.”
An officer tapped a combination into a phosphorescent keypad and the lid whirred open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing the creepy wax figure. Her skin had turned a ghastly white from a lack of sun exposure. She gasped, choking, and the emergency medical team went to work. Moving swiftly, they commenced the delicate process of removing the capsule’s feeding tubes from Dr. Aria Del's body and administering a series of shots. Adam’s sensors analyzed Dr. Del’s life-signs and concluded that her chances of survival were less than ten percent at this point.
Malveaux eyed one of the paramedics who were studying the woman. “How long has she been down there?”
“My guess is over a month. Maybe longer.”
The same timeline as the other two victims, Adam thought.
Rounding the capsule, Adam turned his focus to the black letters etched on the side the steel coffin. They spelled out Phoenix-5E. “It appears to be an escape pod from a colony vessel,” he said. “Normally it puts you in hypersleep, slowing down your bodily functions. In this case the occupant was conscious while only the most basic life support systems remained active.”
“What do you mean?” Malveaux asked.
“It was recycling carbon dioxide into oxygen and supplying her with fluids…but no nourishment.”
Malveau
x's face flooded with a dark realization. “He was starving her to death.”
The paramedic nodded bleakly. “Imagine it. You're trapped at the bottom of the river. Disorientated. Alone. Each day filled with terrible suffering as you feel yourself wearing away. You can’t die because you’re hooked up to a machine designed to keep you alive. And as the days turn into weeks, and experience is reduced to pure agony, your only company is the voice of the man who’s killing you.”
“Why keep her alive all this time?” Malveaux said, the full extent of the horror sinking in. “Why film and broadcast her images to Cain’s apartment?”
Adam had wondered about that too. “Maybe the killer wanted someone else to see her suffer.”
Recognizing the AI’s logic, Malveaux said, “Murder isn't enough for this sick fuck. He needs to torture them. Punish them.”
“Punish them for what?” Once again Adam struggled to grasp the malevolent, sadistic nature of these murders.
Malveaux grew quiet, unable or unwilling to provide an answer to his question.
One of the EMTs jerked back as a camera inside the capsule flashed to life. Malveaux was the first one to take note. “Shit. He's filming us,” she said. “Bastard is doing it right as we speak.”
The camera whirred toward Malveaux, following her voice. It lingered for a beat before the escape pod resealed itself, encasing the terrified cyberneticist once again and forcing the EMTs to jump back. A small monitor ignited with data as a mechanically amplified voice began to recite a countdown in Latin. “Dies... Novem...”
Adam scanned the booby-trapped iron coffin. Dr. Aria Del's terrified features seemed to grow smaller inside the pod, almost as if her fear had deflated what little was left of her. “The escape pod is rigged with explosives. Officer Murphy must have set off the timer.”
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