by Jack Vantage
It induced displeasure within Regan every time he was forced to admit that Nexus was the brain behind their endeavour. He was the one who did all the work behind the scenes, the important stuff, the clever stuff, the stuff that counted.
Regan linked his computer with Nexus’s to observe his working method. On screen scrolled an extensive list of green numbers with the name ‘Zero G’ flashing top right. Nexus was isolating chip numbers they needed. When the numbers filtered, he could tap into the information mainframe and drag up images of the people behind the isolated chips. From there Nexus would match his image of Mr thief to the chip number.
The console beeped for attention. Six chip numbers flashed.
“Hey boss, I found him. Just need to get a match with our image.”
Regan spun on his chair and faced the brilliant psychopath. “You better had, or the both of you will be finding yourself another employer. We can’t lose a million credits to some punk from the street. You should be embarrassed by the slip. You’re a pair of fucking a-holes.”
“You’ll be happy, boss. Just let me get an interceptor on his communicator and we’ve got him.”
“If I was you, I would hope he hasn’t contacted the Authoritarians yet, or we’re fucked. No, let me put this straight, you and fuck-face Timmy will be fucked. Get to work, hurry.”
Nexus sat upright and wheeled his chair to another console screen, left of the one he worked on. “Don’t worry, boss. The credits will be in our hands by the morning.”
Regan turned back to his console. He continued watching Nexus at work. On screen the first chip number was clicked, and it changed the screen’s layout to an identity profile. Right side was the individual’s image, and left side were all the details, such as address, name, date of birth, race, and many other character markers. An image of a freckly young girl, with a black ponytail, sat right of the screen.
Regan liked the ability to peer into the private lives of the Quazarian public. Only a few people were able to do so.
The girl’s profile page wiped from the screen. The chip numbers reappeared from underneath like he’d turned a page.
The next number clicked, and it paged another profile.
“Yes,” Nexus muttered.
“Is that him, Nexus?”
“Positive.”
A blonde young guy, fresh and innocent faced, stared at Regan from his Polytron monitor. Nineteen, his age read, with his address scribed under his name, Dylan Ajax. His credit account looked healthy, and his status was an intaker.
“We’ve got him,” Nexus said, pleased.
Nexus tapped his screen and the monitor flashed with a match. The image of Dylan outside Zero G merged with the profile image. Image Match appeared on screen.
“It’s him all right, God damned intaker,” Nexus said.
“Well he can take his hands off my goods. Get a tag on him, be ready to intercept his Authoritarian call. When he opens the case and realises what he’s picked up, I think he’ll be having a baby.”
Timmy pulled the mesh barrier aside. “You got him yet?”
“Unlike you, I have completed my job. Unlike you, I don’t screw up,” Nexus said as he typed the screen.
“Nobody’s perfect, a minor slip is all it is. We’ll get the kid.”
“Try not to do it again Timmy. This one nearly got away,” Regan said.
The screen flashed in front of Regan. Tag Complete.
“Got him. Next move he makes will read like a book on the screen, Timmy. A little brain instead of brawn is all you need. Isn’t that right, Regan?”
Timmy tossed Nexus his favourite sandwich, chicken and rice.
“I agree, Nexus, Timmy let us down. What would you have me do?”
“I think I would treat him like the kid we’re about to erase, punish him a little, so the same mistake isn’t made again.”
“I think you need a bitch slap, you fucking perv. Carry on and you might be incapable of working those consoles.”
Regan chuckled from his office as Timmy smacked Nexus lightly across the head.
“I won’t be there to save your ass one day,” Nexus said.
In a huff Nexus unwrapped and bit into his sandwich.
The screen flashed for attention.
“Everyone quiet,” Nexus said. “Don’t make a sound,” Nexus said around a mouth full of food. He waved his arms and snapped his fingers while swallowing. “Mr. Thief is contacting the Authoritarians. I need silence.”
“Put him on loud speaker. I want to hear our target,” Regan said.
Nexus tapped his screen as Regan watched eagerly and listened intently.
“Hello precinct 38112, what is your emergency.”
As Dylan talked, Regan knew he had the little shit, but he restrained from smiling. This is going to be the sorriest item the little punk ever took. He almost felt sorry for the young innocent lad, who had no inclination, no idea of what his two dogs were capable of doing.
Chapter 15
Running
Dylan’s pacing was fuelled by nerves of the Authoritarian meeting. Fear filled his body as scenarios played in his mind like a horror movie. His biggest fear was his parents. He’d been over it a million times. What would he say if the Authoritarians sent them a message?
Lecodia shifted irately on the sofa. “How much longer, Dylan? We’ve been waiting a half-hour.” She eyed Dylan with contempt. Her beauty didn’t suit the fluster; patience it seemed had no grace.
“They’ll be here any second.”
Poor Lecodia. None of this was her fault. Dylan knew Authoritarian procedures. He would have to visit the precinct with them, the nearest being just two blocks away. There he would be interrogated for hours. He’d have to explain every detail of the find, where, when, and so on.
“What if they don’t believe me and think I sell this stuff, Lecodia?” he said, panicked. His hands wandered like they were out of his control.
“That’s not my problem,” she said with forewarning intimidation. “You’re going to say what we have been through, that I had nothing to do with this.”
“I know, I’m sorry, I really am. This is a stupid mistake, that I have to live with. Just stay on my side and tell the truth about me. I am never in trouble, I always behave, and I am innocent in this crime.”
“I’ll tell them exactly what happened,” she replied with a sense of selfishness that scared Dylan further. “I was sleeping, I woke up, and you had this with you. I do trust you, I do believe you, I just wish you’d left the case alone, or turned it in right there and then.”
Dylan needed to hear that, to hear that she trusted him, believed him. What chance would he stand if she didn’t? He had a reliable witness, a reliable source that would vouch for him, confirm his story.
Bleep! Sounded the digital doorbell.
Both eyed each other. “Just stay calm. We haven’t done anything wrong,” Dylan said, as if he could brush the whole thing off.
He walked to the entrance and tapped at the message box beside the door. He selected the entrance camera, which revealed two uniformed Authoritarians standing formally at the door. Their faces lay hidden by the high camera angle.
He released the door upward to reveal the guards and their overpowering presence. Dylan recognised the left-hand Authoritarian as the person he spoke with on the video message. His hair dangled a mess, far from the clean-cut look that usually dressed the Authoritarians. Beside him was a larger, more rugged man. His size and stone-like posture made Dylan’s heart sink to his feet. Realisation hit him as he stepped back. “Please come in. We will explain.”
“Yes, Mister Ajax. I think a lot of explaining is needed,” the familiar looking guard said as they stepped inside. His feminine, creepy voice was terrifying.
“Please show us where the narcotics are, Mister Ajax, and we’ll start discussing the matter,” the big man said.
“This way, please.” Dylan led them towards the sofa where Lecodia watched.
“May I h
ave your names please?” Dylan continued.
He remembered an Authoritarian recruitment day, a year ago, in Intake. There, the data period was shown how an Authoritarian dealt with apprehensions.
No matter what, they were trained to take whoever was at a scene of an incident back to the precinct with them, that all matters of discussion were carried out there. It was much easier, the recruitment guard said, to apprehend everyone at the scene and cross-reference statements at the precinct. That way there were no mistakes, no wrong imprisonments, and it gave people no time to alter or bend the truth. Also guards who worked precincts and Authoritarian calls were new recruits and were unable to apprehend until they had served a year inside the precinct. Something wasn’t right with these two. There was something wrong. Something amiss.
“My name is Guard Hants, number 11567,” Nexus said scanning the room. His eyes slyly pried.
My name is Guard R, Ryan, number 1897,” the strapping Timmy said.
The uniforms checked out, the navy creaseless trousers and tactical assault vests that holstered their blasters, laser cutters, and a hundred other essential items. Their numbers were printed on the left breast of their vests. The name tags sat underneath.
Everything else about then was weird. Dylan blamed the paranoia on fear. Why would the Authoritarians have anything but good intentions? He tried not to worry.
Lecodia peered up with dread from the sofa as the closed case rested on the low set table in front of her.
“Is this the case you have recovered?” Nexus said. His eyes lit up.
“Yes. I can explain. I found it, and as you can see, am handing it over to you. I have nothing to do with the contents,” Dylan said firmly.
Lecodia’s eyes spoke to him as he glanced at her. Tell them I’m innocent of the whole thing, they said.
“My friend here had nothing to do with any of it. She didn’t even know I found the case, Mr. Hants. She shouldn’t even be here.”
“You’ve done the right thing, Mr. Ajax. Well done,” Nexus said. He lowered level with Lecodia. Dylan caught him eyeing her, like he was attracted. Then he faced and opened the case.
A smile decorated the guard’s mouth as he closed the case. Timmy was wandering the room. He peeked inside Dylan’s bedroom, then returned.
“I understand I will now be apprehended, but please think about Lecodia. She doesn’t need to be. It’s not her fault,” Dylan pleaded.
“We appreciate your concern, Mr. Ajax but it’s standard procedure to take you both to the precinct and formally quiz your story,” Timmy replied as he returned from checking the apartment. “I’m sure it will all check out. And don’t worry. We won’t be using any restraints.”
There was something about these Authoritarians. Their talk seemed rehearsed, pre-meditated. There was something behind their voices that rang alarms in Dylan’s head. They came across as false.
Lecodia said, “Look, I don’t want my parents finding out. Please understand this is all an accident. None of this is our fault, but our parents would overreact. Please don’t notify them. Please keep this between us. We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I am well aware of the situation, ma’am, I am aware of how delicate this whole mess is for you. After you confirm everything at the precinct, I’m sure it will all go away,” Nexus said. “As of now I’m afraid you’re in trouble.”
“One more thing before we go,” Dylan probed. “How are you able to work at the precinct and on foot duty?” He felt the need to quiz. If he was going to pay any kind of penalty, he’d sure put up a fight.
“It’s the Millennium, Mr. Ajax. Every available Authoritarian works where needed. Please, this way,” Nexus said, and gestured toward the door.
Timmy plucked up the case under his thick bicep.
This was all too easy. There had been no rights read, and no restraints placed on them. For all the guards knew he and Lecodia could be walking them into a set up. This was the most lenient apprehension ever. Dylan knew that with matters like this strict procedures were followed, obeyed.
“One more time, is there anyone else who knows about this, Mr. Ajax?” Nexus asked.
Timmy ushered Lecodia to her feet with an insistent threat. She stood up next to Dylan, intimidated by the sudden change in the guards.
“No one. I found it a few hours ago after leaving a Millennium party at Zero G. I know as much as you do about it.”
“Good, good. With your compliance I think you’ll be over this in no time. We just need to straighten a few things out with you, clarify your rights and end this fiasco.”
“Yes, Mr. Hants, it’s all we want.”
“This way, please. Don’t stray from us, we have been good enough to allow you to freely come with us, Mr. Ajax. Call it a gesture of good will for the Millennium.”
Lecodia shuffled beside Dylan, unnerved. She grabbed his hand and held it tight.
“I just want to do the right thing, Mr. Hants, that’s all.”
“That’s what we all want. Come on.”
Reluctantly, Dylan followed Nexus with Timmy ushering from behind. Dylan was worried as they had not checked their identities. No check to see if they we are who they said they were. They were more interested in the case, not the alleged perpetrators of the crime.
He looked at Nexus as he walked in front. His hair was a clumpy, greased, unwashed texture. More and more elements of the guards didn’t add up. Dylan felt more and more uncomfortable.
“When we get you to the precinct,” Nexus said, without turning around, “everything shouldn’t take too long. Before you know it, you’ll be back home.”
Lecodia looked concerned.
Dylan stressed. Why have I got the most beautiful girl ever involved with something like this? The only time she’ll ever look at me again will be from a hundred feet at Intake. She’ll probably label me a health hazard, a walking disaster, someone she doesn’t want to know.
Dylan looked back at the one who’d called himself Ryan.
He was smiling, almost relieved about something. “Just keep moving,” he said like a legendary gangster Dylan had read about in comic vids.
The corridors were desolate. Everyone was either celebrating or tucked in bed recovering. The Millennium certainly hadn’t turned out the way Dylan had expected. Nexus stopped them at the elevator door and pushed the call button.
“So how long you guys been with the Authoritarians?” he asked.
“Coming up to the end of my first year,” Nexus replied.
“And you, Ryan?”
“I’m a real vet, four solid years of experience dealing with punks like you. You better hope you’re innocent, ‘cause this case is a serious fuck up, Mr. Ajax,” Timmy said.
“We’re innocent, Mr. Ryan,” Lecodia interrupted. “And I’d appreciate it if you backed off a little. We are helping here, not committing a crime.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Timmy replied.
The elevator rolled open. Timmy nudged Lecodia and Dylan in. Nexus hit the button for the sky-mobile bay, and the door rolled shut.
Dylan looked at Nexus, who eyed Lecoida with a perverse grin. Her body was still flaunted by the club wear. Her legs were ripe, her chest displayed, and her beauty radiant. A chill ran down his spine. These guards were not nice. They weren’t obeying their own laws. Every time Dylan tried to shrug off the Authoritarians’ flaws the more they clung to him. When he got to the precinct, he would relay this information to the higher ranked guards, make sure these two paid for breaking procedure. It was the uncourteousness and rudeness that got to him most of all.
The elevator opened and revealed the underground parking bay of Dylan’s building. Hundreds of sky-mobiles and sky-bikes were lined in neat rows. Spider-like landing gear, which consisted of three short pointy black stilts, held each vehicle off the ground.
The parking bay’s smooth chrome ceiling lay low. The silenced area was artificially lit with dim light pools in between the numerous support columns th
at broke up the basement. Its dull chrome walls and floor were scratched, which hazily reflected the rows of mobiles.
“Fifty yards on the right, Mr. Ajax,” Timmy said.
Lecodia looked at him.
“You too, butter cup,” he said.
Dylan could see their sky-mobile. The bonnet of their vehicle stood out, dented and battered.
“Isn’t it illegal to drive a vehicle with any kind of damage, Mr. Hants?” Dylan asked.
“Like I said it’s the Millennium, Mr. Ajax. Our resources are pushed to the limit.”
“I think he’s getting a little talkative, Hants,” Timmy said with smarmy authority. “I think we should restrain him right now, knock him around a little until he quiets down.”
“Hey guys, I was just asking. I’ll stay quiet,” Dylan said, as Lecodia squeezed his hand. She stared him with piercing eyes.
The left side of the Authoritarian vehicle was bruised and dented. The bonnet was scratched, hit, and worn, far from the usually pristine, gleaming, polished vehicle that the Authoritarians prided themselves on.
“In the back, both of you,” Timmy ordered, as the rear door of the Authoritarian vehicle lifted vertically. “Come on.”
Lecodia entered first, followed by Dylan. He noticed severe scratches on his side of the square interior where the window was. It made him feel sick. It looked like someone had frantically tried to escape through the rear passenger window.
Whatever the reason for the scratches, Dylan wanted the nightmare to be over. Every second of the apprehension was a second too long. There was something sinister behind their law-abiding clothes, something the uniform was masking. He didn’t care to know.
Nexus and Timmy entered the vehicle in front of Dylan, separated by a sheet of indestructible glass. At Intake the Authoritarian recruitment guards had bragged about their vehicles, tried to project them as cool and flashy to the data period. They stated how every piece of glass was unbreakable to standard weapons, and that the vehicle could withstand immense amounts of damage before it became inoperable. Dylan knew he was well and truly stuck in the back seat with Lecodia beside him. Timmy flicked a switch on the dashboard from his passenger front seat.