The iFactor

  Lori Holtz left the dance floor and went back to her table. No one touched her anywhere except her hand. She was offered nothing, nor visibly ingested anything.

  “How accurate is the introduction time?” Matt asked.

  “There are always variables.” Zimmerman said. “But the formulas are usually pretty accurate.”

  “Of course,” Matt said. “Dancing.”

  “Huh?” Said Officer Perry.

  “Her metabolism was sped up. That could cause the drug to work more quickly, right.”

  “Yeah, it could. But not by much.” Zimmerman conceded.

  “There we go.” Matt pointed to the screen. Sawyer’s dot moved toward the victim’s dot and into the field of vision of the camera. Matt could see Sawyer talking to the victim. “Synchronize all views to normal time. Can we get sound?”

  “None that would be of any use. Sounds of music and crowds would override any conversation. This isn't a covert surveillance system, Dales. There is still the right to privacy on this planet.” Zimmerman said.

  “Well it would have been useful to know what they were saying.” Matt said.

  “That's why they call this work.” She said. “Some things we just have to figure out ourselves.”

  “He's moving out of frame.” Officer Perry announced.

  “Can we keep on him with the visual feed?” Matt asked.

  “Yes, sir.” Officer Perry complied. The center bottom screen followed Sawyer to the bar. He ordered two drinks and moved his palm over the transaction pad. The bartender made two drinks and brought them to his customer.

  “There it is!” Matt called out.

  “I didn't see.” Zimmerman said.

  “The bartender, he made two identical drinks, but only stirred one with a spoon. Track on the glass he stirred.” Matt wasn't surprised when the drink that was stirred was put before the victim, who drank eagerly after her exertion.

  “Damn, good eye Dales.” Officer Perry said.

  “Was that within the variability limit of the drug?” Matt asked.

  “Just barely.” Zimmerman said. “Run a track on that transaction. I want verification.”

  “Yes, Detective.” Officer Perry pushed several buttons. “Whoa! That was an expensive drink.”

  “Well,” Matt prodded.

  “Two mixed drinks; five with a fifty tip.” Officer Perry said.

  “Perry, focus web on the bartender.” Zimmerman smiled for the first time. “Good instincts, Dales.”

  “It helps to be paranoid.” He smiled back.

  “Save data and transmit to judicial council for arrest warrant on 'Max'.” Zimmerman then added, “Coffee break”

  Chapter 9

  Matt was happy to learn that detectives and specialists had their own break room. There was a coffee maker with ceramic mugs piled neatly on the counter near them. On the other side of the counter sat a small refrigerator, which he discovered contained drinks and flavored coffee creamers. Although the table was smaller, it had one thing going for it, and it had an open box of pastries sitting in the middle. “My, aren’t we spoiled.”

  “We are treated well because they expect more from us.” Zimmerman poured a cup of coffee, forwent the pastries and sat at the table.

  “I’ll go for that.” Matt poured coffee and took a pastry then sat down at the small table across from her.

  “I've been dying to ask you a question.” She said.

  “About the chief?” Matt asked. Their prior relationship seemed to be a matter of discussion around the station.

  “About Dallas.”

  “Oh,” It wasn't unexpected, neither was it a topic about which he was inclined to be talkative.

  “I need to know if I can trust you in a pinch.”

  He had gone through the interrogations when he first arrived, by the other officers. Even after working with them for months, there were still some that snubbed him and probably never would trust him. Hell, he couldn’t blame them. If he was in their shoes, he would have had concerns also, so what could he tell her that would gain her trust? All there was the truth. “You want to know what happened.”

  “Yes, I do.” Zimmerman said. “Privacy laws protect your files, but do not stop rumors.”

  “What do the rumors say?”

  “That you lost it. That you killed civilians.” She said.

  “Do you want me to deny it?” Matt set his cup down.

  “I want you to tell me the truth.”

  “I don't know the truth,” he said. “I only what they told me afterward.”

  “Tell me what you remember then.” she pressed.

  “Well, you want it? Here it is.” Matt took several deep breaths. He spoke quietly, quickly as though he’d been through the grilling several times, which he had. “The chief and I were partners, detectives for Dallas PD. If was a little over six years into the Great Drought. All water and food was being shipped into the city and distributed by the service corp. You know the government. If they can screw something up, they'll do a fine job of it. Water started to arrive polluted and food spoiled. The people started to complain. It wasn't until the elderly and young started to die that the riots started. All officers were called to the lines, including us detectives.”

  He took a deep long swallow of the coffee. “I only remember what happened afterward, and only in pieces, and bad dreams. The psychiatrist says that I am repressing the memories. In any case, Ken and I were working on a case, the chief. We were looking into what had happened to the food and water shipments. I felt that they had been so badly managed; it had to be more than just incompetence. Everything gets all jumbled. I know I arrived at the riot late. People where armed and gathered, shouting, angry. I remember a child being shot, killed. Then there is nothing until the next day when I was wandering the streets looking at the carnage of the riots.” Matt took another drink.

  “You really don't remember any of it?” she pressed.

  “The doctors say it was post-traumatic stress.” he said. “Don't worry. I was cleared for duty before I left Earth.”

  “So the chief and the doctors all say your fine now.” she said. “What caused you to snap in the first place?”

  “I’ll tell you,” he looked hard into her eyes. “I really wish I knew.”

  “Can I trust you to have my back? Like you did the chiefs?”

  “That's something you're going to have to work out for yourself. The chief trusts me.” he stood up. “I'm heading back.”

  “I'll be there in a few.” Zimmerman took another drink. Matt walked back into the monitor room.

  “Oh, good you’re back.” Perry said. “I've got something. Should we wait for Zimmerman?”

  “I'll fill her in.” Matt said.

  “Your call, I only work here.” Perry pushed several buttons bringing up the main screen again. “I focused on our bartender. Following his activities for the last two days. Most of it is routine. Apartment, out with friends, nothing strange until this. The night before last.”

  Matt watched as the dot11098 left his apartment. It was the middle of his regular sleep shift. The dot moved forward at a factor of at least twenty-five. It moved along the walkways to the docks where it met with another dot 06798.

  The screen blanked out for a few moments.

  “What was that?” Matt asked.

  “A glitch in the system happens from time to time.” Perry said.

  “Go back I want to see it.” Matt moved closer.

  “I can't. The system didn't record anything.” Perry said.

  “For how long?”

  “This time, about twelve minutes.” Perry said.

  “This time? Does this happen often?”

  “Not really, but that info stays in this room.”

  “Okay, got it. Hush hush.” The screen lit back up and with the bartender's dot moving back to his apartment. “Bring up the video.”

  “I can't, Dales. The system failed to record. But we did get this.” Perry brought up the financ
ial account of the bartender. Before the glitch, he had five thousand, six hundred and twelve UN's in his account, afterward only six hundred and twelve.

  “Great, can we get a warrant to investigate the account of 06798?” Matt asked.

  “No need, he was already under investigation.” Perry punched up the profile for the identification number. The name of the assistant bursar Matt had caught the day before came up. His accounts showed a five thousand UN increase before after the glitch.

  “Perry you're a competent individual.” Matt said.

  “I'll take that for what it’s worth.” he smiled.

  The door opened and Zimmerman entered. She looked at the screen and glowered. “Well?”

  “We linked the bartender to the purser who was busted by Officer Dales yesterday.” Perry said.

  “Show me.” Zimmerman said. Matt watched quietly as the officer went over the data with Rishards. “Okay looks tight enough. Download to the judicial council and close the case.”

  “Shouldn't we continue to investigate the web? We might find out who's in league with the bursar.” Matt said.

  “That's not our case.” She informed him. “The UN laws governing rights and investigations are stricter than in the United States, Dales. Our case was to find the rapist. We did. We pushed a little further and got an accomplice. The whole thing links back to your drug bust. Anything further would be a fishing expedition and a violation of the procedures of the department and the rights of the colonists. I’m senior Detective. I say case closed.”

  “Yes Detective.” Matt speculated what it would take to get another partner.

  “My shift is up in a few minutes anyway.” Officer Perry shut down the workstation. He turned to Matt and whispered, “She won’t say it, but you did well.”

  “The chief assigned you to cubical twelve.” Zimmerman said. “He mentioned a pile of paperwork needing your attention.

  “I'll get on it.” Matt walked out.

  Chapter 10

  The documents awaiting him were numerous, but not daunting. Most were follow up on his cases as cargo inspector. There was a substantial amount of official acknowledgements and disclaimer verifications concerning the details of his increased security access to cities mainframe systems. He also had to sign off that he understood the United Nations directives regarding human rights and confidentiality agreements for each corporation operating on the colony.

  After looking over the workload, Matt decided to take another pill. He could look forward to several hours of computer-based training. It would be tedious beyond words and require some overtime. By the time he finished, he was seriously brain tired. Still, it felt great to be back doing the work for which he was trained.

  It was between shifts when Matt stepped off the main lift in the lobby. The reception area was only slightly congested. He saw her easily, as she stood in the line before the officer on duty, the woman from the restaurant, her face bruised and a little swollen. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to get his hand on the thug who had hurt the beautiful, spirited woman.

  Matt tried to look calm and professional as he approached. “Can I be of help?”

  “Oh,” she looked up with tear red eyes. “As it turned out you were right about him.”

  “Are you alright? Do we need to get you medical assistance?” Matt inquired.

  “I'm fine, just bruised my pride.” she salvaged a tissue from her bag and wiped under her eyes. “I’m usually a good judge of character, usually. I came to get that restraining order you suggested.”

  “You're going to have to file charges against him. Just tell the recorder what happened and Officer Perry and I can corroborate the incident at Say Soy.” Matt said.

  “Thank you.” She said.

  “It’s my job.” Matt stood with her until she reached the front. Then he turned to the officer. “I have testimony in this matter, as does Officer Perry. I'll be around, page me when you need me. Perry, I believe, is off duty.”

  “Yes detective.” the officer said. “Please step forward and make your report.”

  The woman looked at Matt appreciatively. “Thanks.”

  Matt, already exhausted, just smiled, gave her a nod and went back to the lift. He needed more coffee, and hoped there was a pastry or two left over.

  His palm chip vibrated as he poured a cup. He walked over to the wall monitor and waved across the sensor for access. A general alert notification appeared on the screen. Toby Sawyer, the rapist, had been apprehended. Matt poured some cold water into his steaming drink to cool it. It burned a bit as he chugged it down, but he wanted to be there for the interrogation, and needed the caffeine.

  The holding cells and interrogation rooms were two levels below. Until his promotion, he didn’t have the clearance to enter that section, which was no longer a problem as interrogations were part of his regular duties again. He walked into the observation room. Zimmerman and the chief were already there.

  The chief appraised him. “Nice uniform. I thought you'd be gone by now.”

  “I had a ton of paper work.” Matt replied.

  “Well that's our perp.” the chief said. “You can take off. Your shift is over and this is going to be exceedingly routine.”

  “How are you going to get him to confess?” Matt asked.

  “No need. The work you two did was solid. A confession from him would only go to showing remorse for the judicial council. No, now we want him to verify that he got the drug from the bartender so we can bring that scum bag in.” The chief explained. “Go ahead, take off. You're looking a bit tired.”

  “I have a deposition to give in a few moments, concerning an incident that I observed today at lunch.”

  “The domestic incident?” Zimmerman asked.

  “Yeah, it seems the boyfriend didn't let it go. The woman came in a few minutes ago, she'd been beaten.”

  “Okay, after you give your report. I want you to go home and rest. That is an order, Dales. We'll fill you in on what we learn when you come back in for your shift. Now go and give your account.” The chief ordered. “There will plenty to do tomorrow.”

  “Yes sir.” Matt considered the creep on the other side of the glass before leaving; in his opinion, the man was a waste of space. Fantasia was derived from the Hyperdrug. The man was willing to let someone go through the mind rip, just because he couldn’t get a date to say yes. If Matt had his way, everyone like that man would be shoved out an airlock into the acidic atmosphere of Sirius.

  Matt took the long way around. The sight of the man angered him, and he wanted to cool off before he took the elevator back down to the intake desk.

  “We've been waiting for you detective.” The officer said at his approach. “Please come with me.”

  Matt followed into one of the small rooms along the hallway.

  “Please have a seat, you know the routine.”

  Matt smiled. He had spent many months on the other side of the desk and he was familiar with the procedure.

  “Put your palm onto the identity pad.” The recording officer directed. Matt did so and a monitor on the wall lit up with his official photo and personal data. “Very good. Now If you'll just affirm that the information you are about to provide is truthful and complete.”

  “I do so affirm.” Matt responded. When he had been on the other side, the answers were varied and occasionally rude.

  “Good. Now tell me about the incident that occurred at Say Soy this morning.” The officer continued.

  Matt described the incident as well as he could recall. Not talking about his dreams, however, felt like a lie by omission. One didn't put dreams and accounts of over arousal into official reports. Not if one wanted a future in security.

  Chapter 11

  It was a very long day and his next shift started in less than nine hours. All Matt wanted to do was get to his bed. But his rumbling stomach prompted him to get some food. Lunch felt like a distant memory and the pastries in the break room were gone. There was a sm
all shop near his apartment that sold passable precooked burritos. That would do.

  The woman with brown curly hair and bruised face stood staring at the door as he walked up.

  “How are you doing?” Matt stopped beside her.

  “It’s... I'm alright.” She said. “Look, I was stupid, foolish.

  “Hey, it’s not your fault.” he said. “Sometimes people just trust people the probably shouldn't have. You couldn’t have known. The colonial authority is supposed to screen out candidates with violent tendencies before they arrive.”

  “Well, I guess no system is perfect.” She said.

  “If it was, I’d be outa work.”

  “You don't think he's out there somewhere, waiting for me again.”

  “Not if he has any kind of brain.” Matt peered out. “I don't see him. He's fairly large, hard to miss.”

  “Sure,” she gulped and then looked herself.

  “Do you want me to walk you to your home?”

  “You won't get in trouble?” she smiled expectantly.

  “No, I'm a witness, therefore, I’m involved. They will have to find another detective to investigate your case.” Matt said.

  “Yeah, sure.” She stepped out cautiously scanning the environment as she moved. Matt walked out beside her.

  “Which way?”

  “I live in Beta quad.” She responded. He let her lead the way down the artificially lit pathway. The first sun wouldn't rise for another six hours or so, but the entire colony was well lit. People worked around the clock, and even in the middle of the night people scurried all around heading to and from their jobs.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Matt said.

  “No, I just wanted to thank you, for trying to help. I mean. Most people who work for the colony are bureaucratic. They really don’t care about the people.” She said.

  “Well I haven’t been here long enough to acclimate to the bureaucracy.”