Evolution

by Travis Bagwell

George nodded at Francis. “I think we are ready for you to call the detective back in.” His gaze moved to Jason. “We will have you out of here in no time, Jason. I know this may be hard to believe, but this should go smoothly.”

  “It will,” Francis confirmed. “I am going to ask you these same questions when the detective re-enters the room. I just need you to provide the exact same testimony. Please do not feel the need to embellish on the details and do not answer any other questions unless I direct you to do so.”

  Jason nodded numbly. He felt exhausted – both mentally and physically. He didn’t know how much longer he could endure this and his mind spun in confusion. How could they think the police were simply going to let him go? They had found him standing over two dead bodies, and they had been holding him for three days.

  Francis didn’t give him a chance to stew. He quickly stepped outside and entered a moment later with Thomas in tow. The detective took a seat at the table and eyed Francis and George irritably. “Is your client ready to discuss the events of October 20th?” he asked bluntly.

  “I believe so,” Francis replied. The attorney then walked Jason through the same series of questions for the detective’s benefit and Jason provided the same answers – trying his best to respond exactly as he had for Francis.

  When they finished, Thomas looked at each person in the group, an incredulous expression on his face. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “Excuse me?” Francis replied, arching an eyebrow.

  “There is quite a bit about this story that doesn’t add up. For example, why did these two teens decide to break into Jason’ aunt’s home? It is located in a poorer neighborhood and contained almost nothing worth stealing. Apart from pocketing some cash, the pair didn’t seem to make any effort to take electronics or other items that they could pawn. On top of that, one of the boys didn’t even have a criminal record.”

  Francis shrugged in response. “Just because Lucas did not have a criminal record doesn’t mean that he hadn’t committed a crime before – just that he hadn’t been caught. For all we know, this was commonplace for both boys. As for why they didn’t steal anything, I suspect that they encountered Jason before they could make off with their loot.”

  The detective pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to tamp down at his annoyance with the attorney. “Sure, but let’s focus on that encounter between Jason and the two intruders for a moment. Am I expected to believe that Jason somehow overpowered both boys?” Thomas gestured at Jason’s thin form. “This is the same kid that didn’t attend any athletics programs at his previous school and has no self-defense training – which I checked, by the way.”

  Francis moved to interrupt, but Thomas held up a hand. “And not only that, but Jason somehow managed to grab their weapon and stab both boys to death? One of the victims had fifteen stab wounds. Fifteen. And now you’re telling me that Jason conveniently doesn’t remember doing any of this.”

  “When a person’s back is to a wall, they can do impressive things,” George said quietly, watching the detective. “When push comes to shove, we are merely animals that try to maintain an illusion of civility.”

  Thomas shook his head. “It still doesn’t add up.” He turned to Jason. “Are you really telling me you remember nothing from the incident? Nothing at all.”

  Jason opened his mouth to answer, but Francis interjected quickly, “That has been asked and answered.” The attorney hesitated, folding his hands on the table. “Let’s approach this from another angle. You have two teens who clearly broke into Jason’s home – one of which was armed. Jason didn’t know the two boys and had no connection with them beforehand. He merely defended himself in his own home.”

  Francis paused, his gaze hard as he watched the detective. “Whether you believe the evidence that is staring you in the face or not, you have to decide whether you are going to charge Jason. You can’t continue to hold him indefinitely.”

  George smiled at the detective, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I also expect it may not reflect well on you and the department if you were to charge a young man with murder for defending himself from a home invasion. In fact, I’d say that’s the sort of thing that might irreparably harm your career.”

  George’s smile widened slightly, showing some teeth. “Speaking of which, I ran into John Fields downstairs. The police chief and I are old friends. He also seemed quite curious how you planned to move forward with this case. When I explained that Jason still hadn’t received legal representation, he seemed a bit surprised.”

  Thomas blanched before anger entered his eyes. “Are you threatening me?” he demanded.

  “Not at all,” George said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m just pointing out the facts as I see them. Please feel free to draw whatever conclusions you wish.”

  The detective looked like he wanted to leap across the table at the two well-dressed men, but he held himself back. He took a deep breath, tamping down on his anger. “Fine,” he finally spat. “I’ll release the boy.”

  “Fantastic. Then I suppose we should head downstairs and start the paperwork to process his release,” the attorney began, tapping his Core and the keyboard projected along his arm abruptly vanishing.

  “Oh, but I’m not done,” Thomas interrupted him. “While we can’t hold Jason, we can continue to treat the house as an active crime scene – which means that it is restricted from the public. I know that something more is going on here and I intend to discover what really happened in that home.”

  Jason’s eyes widened. If the police continued to hold the house, where would he and Angie stay? George noted his expression and shook his head slowly, trying to discourage him from interrupting the exchange between the detective and Francis.

  “That’s certainly very diligent of you,” Francis replied dryly. “I don’t expect that this will be a problem. Besides, this will give the two of us a chance to continue working together more closely,” the attorney drawled, staring at the detective with an arched eyebrow.

  “Will that be all?” Francis asked.

  “For now,” Thomas said, crossing his arms as he eyed the two men. He seemed perturbed that this last threat hadn’t phased George and Francis.

  “Good. Then we will be on our way,” the attorney replied. With that, the group quickly exited the interrogation room and made their way downstairs. George and Francis flanked Jason on either side, insulating him from the gaze of the other officers. Jason moved to ask George a question, but the man shook his head and placed a finger to his lips.

  “Wait until we’re outside,” George urged him.

  As they arrived at the entrance to the building, George turned to Francis. “I trust you can handle the paperwork,” he ordered. “I’m going to go on ahead with Jason. I expect he could use some rest.”

  “Of course,” Francis replied, bobbing his head and adjusting his glasses. “I can take care of things from here. I will provide a status update tomorrow.”

  “Please come with me,” George ordered Jason. “I have a car waiting.”

  Jason numbly followed the man, his mind racing. He should feel relieved that he was no longer being held for murder, but that was overshadowed by his newest problem – he was homeless. What would happen to Angie if they kept the house under lockdown? Where would they go? It wasn’t like they were swimming in money – even with his streaming contract.

  A black limousine slid up to the curb outside, and the car door opened automatically. At a gesture from George, Jason slid inside and leaned back against the plush leather seat cushions. He wasn’t able to appreciate the splendor of the spacious cabin, his mind a whirlwind of unanswered questions. He could feel his heart race and his hands were still sweating from the encounter with the detective.

  George stepped inside the limousine and sat down across from Jason. The car soon sped away, seamlessly merging into a long line of other vehicles. “Where are we going?” Jason asked, suddenly realizing that he had no
idea where they were heading.

  “We anticipated that the detective might be obstinate. Thomas has a reputation for being a bulldog. Which was proven out by him holding you for several days without charging you and then stonewalling Francis’ efforts to formalize his representation,” George explained calmly. “In the meantime, we have made other living accommodations for you and your aunt.”

  The older man’s gaze rested on Jason, and a small, shark-like smile curled his lips. “Like I said before, you are an asset of Cerillion Entertainment. I plan to take good care of you.”

  Chapter 2 - Acclimated

  Alex Lane shifted in the leather-bound chair, causing the oiled material to creak and groan under his weight. He was sitting in his room in his family’s austere, up-town apartment. Night had fallen some time ago, and the room was illuminated only by the dim light cast by the lamp on a nearby table.

  His gaze was riveted on the screen mounted on the wall in front of him. The display showed video footage from the perspective of an aerial news drone. It was night-time, and the drone hovered beside what he knew was Jason’s home. Spotlights shone down on the street, and police vehicles ringed the house, their lights flashing an alternating blue and red.

  “We are outside a home in Highland Park registered to Angie Pogue,” a newscaster’s voice said over the video footage. “It appears that the suspect is a young man, approximately eighteen years old.”

  Alex could feel his heart beating in his chest. No matter how many times he had watched the footage over the last few days, a strange sensation always swept over him. The normally placid void that permeated his mind seemed to shudder, and he could feel a hollow weight settle in his stomach.

  “The police haven’t yet provided a formal report, but, from what we can tell, two teenagers have died in a possible double homicide,” the reporter continued, oblivious to Alex’s inner turmoil.

  “Wait, the suspect is being taken out of the house now.” The video shifted to follow a young man being lead through the front door. His hands were cuffed behind his back, and two officers flanked him, their faces obscured by tactical helmets.

  The drone’s camera zoomed in on the teenager’s face, and Alex could see clearly that it was Jason. Within seconds, a school photograph appeared in the corner of the video. Alex immediately froze the image with a tap on his Core.

  He hadn’t meant for the two boys to die or to somehow frame Jason for their deaths. He had intended to merely send a message and undermine his opponent by striking where Alex was strongest – in the real world. Things had quickly spiraled out of control.

  The hollow sensation in his stomach seemed to twist and writhe like a living thing. Alex knew he had managed to cover his tracks. He had used a burner device to communicate with the boys – purchased with cash. Remarkably, there were still stores that operated on a cash basis in this day and age. There was also little to tie the two victims to him. Yet the alien sensation still thrashed in his stomach.

  Suddenly, the world seemed to stutter slightly, and a gentle hand rested on his shoulder. “Worry does not befit you, Alex. It is a distraction of weaker minds,” his mother whispered into his ear. He could feel her soft breath against his skin and smell her sickly-sweet perfume.

  Her pale white hand lingered on his shoulder, vibrant blue veins visible through the skin as her fingers curled around his shirt. “Those boys were trash – delinquents and criminals. You have been so careful to mask your actions.”

  “I-I know that,” Alex replied in a hoarse voice.

  “Besides,” his mother continued. Releasing his shoulder, her fingers trailed along his chin, slowly turning his head toward the bed nearby. “You have other matters to attend to. Your enemies continue to grow in strength while you sit here wallowing.”

  Alex’s gaze settled on the familiar heavy, plastic helmet resting on his bed, its cable attached to an obsidian pedestal on a nearby table. His mother was right. He had work to do inside AO. He had only just begun his digital ascent to power, and he should be capitalizing on Jason’s distraction. This wasn’t the time to wring his hands.

  There was nowhere to go but forward.

  ***

  Less than an hour later, the limousine pulled up in front of a towering office building, the name “Cerillion Entertainment” emblazoned across the side of the structure. Jason glanced at the building in confusion. He had been here a few times before to meet with Claire and Robert regarding his contract and game footage. However, that didn’t quite explain where he was going to be staying.

  The car door slid open on its own, and George stepped out. He ran a hand down his suit jacket, smoothing out the faint wrinkles in the fabric as he noted the confused look on Jason’s face. “Perhaps I should explain,” George began as he headed toward the entrance to the building. Jason hurried to follow him, the car door closing behind him with a soft thump and the driverless vehicle automatically speeding away.

  “We realized quite some time ago that it was inefficient for employees to commute to and from work each day,” George continued. “The lost time was frustrating and unproductive. Telecommuting and working from home resolve this issue to some degree, but there are still quite a few activities that require in-person interaction.”

  He waved a hand dismissively. “Apparently, morale is also vastly improved by seeing your colleagues regularly – even if you might not care to. Our HR department concluded that people feel more connected to the company and their work if they interact with other employees. They cited some sort of sociological phenomenon associated with the issue, but the name escapes me at the moment.”

  As they approached the building, the massive sliding doors opened automatically with only the faintest whisper of sound. The pair stepped into the central lobby, the ceiling towering above them and supported by ornate marble pillars. The older man turned back to Jason, focusing on him once again.

  “So our solution – like many other companies – was to integrate our office and living environments into a single campus.”

  “Okay, but where do the people live?” Jason asked in confusion. He recalled seeing some of the other floors, which were all devoted to office space.

  George nodded in understanding. “When you can’t build up any further, you build down…”

  A small cough interrupted the pair, and they turned to find Robert standing nearby. The engineer was wearing his typical jeans and chucks. Today his shirt had an eight-bit controller design displayed on the front along with the words “Old School Cool.” Under other circumstances, Jason might have had to suppress an internal groan, but he had a few other things on his mind at the moment.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Robert said, glancing at Jason curiously before turning to George. “You sent me a message to meet you downstairs?”

  “Yes,” George replied, eyeing Robert’s attire skeptically. “Jason and his aunt will be staying with us for a while. We have made Suite 701-B available for them. Would you be so kind as to show Jason to his apartment?”

  Robert’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “He’s staying here? Like in the building?”

  “I believe I just said that,” George snapped. “I figured he could use a familiar face at the moment and Claire was already occupied – which is why you’re here. Please show him around and make sure he has whatever he needs.”

  “Sure. Sure,” Robert said, glancing at Jason with a growing grin.

  George sighed and turned to Jason. “I have some other matters to attend to. Trust me that we will make every effort to secure your aunt’s home. I’ll check in with you in a couple of days. Just let Robert know if you need anything in the meantime.”

  “Okay,” Jason said, still feeling a little confused and overwhelmed. As George moved to walk away, Jason spoke up, “Thank you. I didn’t get a chance to say that earlier.”

  George glanced over his shoulder, the familiar shark-like look returning to his eyes. “If you want to thank me, then earn your keep. The people in this b
uilding all work for me – and this now includes you.” He then turned and walked away toward the elevator bank without another word.

  “Whew,” Robert said. “That guy can be a little chilly, but he grows on you after a while.”

  “I suppose so,” Jason said, his eyes still on George’s back. “Chilly” wasn’t exactly the right word. He suspected George didn’t do anything without a good reason – and his company’s bottom line in mind. Jason must be more valuable to Cerillion Entertainment than he had realized.

  “Anyway. Why don’t I show you around?”

  “Sounds good,” Jason replied.

  Robert led him through the lobby to a separate set of elevator banks. They were positioned near the rear of the building, and Robert and Jason were the only two people who seemed to be using the elevators at this time of day. That sort of made sense. It was still early afternoon, and the other employees were likely at work in their offices upstairs.

  As they approached the row of metallic doors, Jason noticed a makeshift plaque on the wall and did a double take. Despite his fatigue, he couldn’t help but smile as he read through the text.

  Real-Life Message: Now Entering “The Dungeon”

  This dungeon is designated as a “raid-level” encounter and is a public instance. Please avoid aggroing our corporate overlords. Hell, if George notices this plaque, he might fire all of us.

  “The Dungeon, huh?” Jason asked, motioning at the plaque.

  Robert chuckled. “What can I say, we’re a bunch of nerds here.”

  One of the elevators emitted a ding, and the door slid open with a faint hiss of hydraulics. “So, what caused this impromptu move?” Robert asked as they stepped into the elevator. He was inspecting Jason carefully, his eyes hovering on his rumpled clothing and the dark circles under his eyes.

  Jason hesitated, not sure how much to share. On the other hand, what was the point of hiding this information from Robert? The engineer was likely to find out anyway. There had probably been a ton of news coverage on the incident at his aunt’s house.