by Greg Krojac
“Charles, what’s she saying? Can I go up and see her?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but Miss Chambers has company at the moment. In fact, she has had a house guest for the last three days. A friend – I suppose that would be the best way to describe the person – has stayed the night, leaves with Miss Chambers in the mornings, and returns with her at night.”
It didn’t occur to the security-bot how this might look to Karen’s boyfriend. Indeed, why should it? Charles had no notion of the nuances of human relationships. He announced people’s arrivals, bade them a polite farewell when they left and ensured that unwelcome guests were detained and removed by the authorities. That was all. That was his job and he was very efficient at it.
Karen hadn’t been in contact with Vismay during those three days and nights – in retrospect, probably a bad idea – but she didn’t want him to get involved in the situation. She knew that she was neglecting her duty by not instigating a full-scale search for Coppélia’s owners, and felt that it was better to keep Vismay out of the loop – for his own good. She felt bad that her team now also shared her secret, but that couldn’t have been helped. They’d all witnessed the superhuman strength that Coppélia possessed – and they couldn’t un-see it. However, the Sexdroid Unit was a very tight group, fiercely loyal to one another, and they trusted their boss in her decision.
Vismay was unsettled by the new information. He and Karen hadn’t been an item for long – only a few weeks – and it was still early days in their relationship. Perhaps he had no right to expect exclusivity, but he already had strong feelings for her. He needed to know that she wasn’t cheating on him, as foolish as that suspicion might seem.
“Charles, can you patch me in, please?”
With permission from Karen, the security-bot added Vismay to the conversation and removed itself from the call. Vismay was pleased that he could at last talk to Karen directly.
“What’s going on, Karen? Charles says that someone’s been staying with you the last three nights. And I haven’t heard from you since we last saw each other at the SVU.”
Karen wanted to reassure Vismay that nothing was wrong, but that would be easier said than done. She’d picked up on his feelings for her during their brief time together – she really liked him too – and she didn’t want him to risk his career for her.
“Nothing’s going on, Viz. Honest. A cousin has come to stay for a few days. That’s all.”
“Can I at least give you my gift?”
“You can leave it with Charles. He’ll make sure I get it.”
Vismay had never bought flowers for anyone before and wanted to see the look on Karen’s face when he handed her the bouquet. All women like to be given flowers, surely?
“I’d rather deliver them myself if that’s alright.”
“To be honest, it’s a bit awkward, Viz.”
Vismay could sense that Karen was trying to avoid him. He didn’t need to be a police officer to realise that.
“Look, I’ll come up for a couple of minutes, and then leave you with your cousin. That can’t do any harm, can it?”
Karen knew that this was going to cause problems later on if she didn’t sort it out now. She relented.
“Ok. You can come up. But just for a minute or two.”
Finally liberated, DI Rajan took the elevator to the penthouse suite and pressed the touchscreen to the right of the door. Karen opened the door just enough to hold a conversation with her boyfriend. She looked at the bouquet that Vismay was holding. Yes, they were beautiful. Yes, it was a lovely gesture. No, it wasn’t her cup of tea.
“They’re lovely, Viz. Thank you. You shouldn’t have.”
She meant it too. He’d obviously spent quite a sum on something that would be brown and wilted in a week or so. A female voice called out from inside the apartment.
“Hello, Detective Inspector Rajan.”
Karen had forgotten to tell Coppélia to stay out of sight and say nothing. The android just thought she was being polite and was greeting a colleague of Karen’s whom she had already met. Vismay recognised the voice.
“Karen, is that..?”
Karen knew what Vismay was about to ask. There was no point in denying it now.
“Yes, Viz. It is.”
“Seriously? It’s the android that reported that it had been raped?”
“Yes. It’s Coppélia.”
There seemed little point now in keeping Vismay at the door, so Karen opened it wider, allowing her boyfriend to enter the apartment. Vismay stood in front of Coppélia for a moment, speechless, before turning to Karen.
“What the fuck? I mean. Seriously, what the actual fuck? Do you realise how much trouble you could be in?”
“Of course I do. I’m not stupid.”
“No, I know you’re not stupid, but this is a pretty stupid thing to do.”
“No, but –.”
“But you didn’t return it to its owner straightaway. Why on earth not?”
Karen didn’t confess that she hadn’t tried particularly hard to reunite the android with its owner.
“She has no serial number. She’s different to regular sexbots. We haven’t been able to trace her owner yet.”
“Have you tried?”
“Of course we have. Bloody hard. It’s not easy without a serial number.”
Karen hoped that Vismay wouldn’t see through her lie. For his part, he didn’t know what to think.
“Then why didn’t you just leave her in the evidence lockup?”
“I couldn’t do that. She’s not a stolen WV set or a piece of jewellery. She’s not an object.”
Vismay couldn’t believe that his girlfriend could do something so stupid.
“But she is, Karen. That’s exactly what she is. She’s an object. A robot. Made of plastic or whatever and with AI implanted. Nothing more. She’s not a person. She doesn’t need to be fed and watered like a living thing.”
“No, I know all that, Viz. But she is different. There’s something about her. You don’t know, but I’ve just spent four days with her. You haven’t.”
Vismay was visibly agitated.
“So, what now?”
Karen had no real plan. She just had a hunch that something more important than a missing sexbot was afoot.
“She stays with me for a bit longer. The question is – what are you going to do about it?”
Vismay was torn between his duty as a police officer and a sense of loyalty to Karen.
“Who else knows?”
“My team.”
“All of them?”
“Yep. No choice really. They saw her do something no human could do and connected the dots.”
“And they’ll all keep schtum?”
“Yep. They won’t say a word.”
Vismay shrugged his shoulders.
“I suppose I’d better not say anything either, then.”
Karen felt a huge wave of relief pass through her body. She hadn’t been certain that she could count on Vismay’s cooperation.
“Thank you, Viz. Thank you.”
Vismay had a proviso.
“Only for a few more days though. And, if anyone asks you, I knew nothing of this.”
Karen gave Vismay a quick kiss.
“Of course. It’ll all be sorted in a few days.”
7
Sitting in Karen’s office, Luke felt a little nervous, not so much because she was his boss, but because he was probably going to have to tell her something that the others might enjoy ribbing him about. It had occurred to him that Coppélia would be a lot easier to hide in plain sight if she didn’t look like herself. Karen was open to any suggestion that would help Coppélia stay hidden from her owners, even though she had no proof that they had any malevolent purpose lined up for the android.
“So what’s your idea, Luke?”
Luke took a deep breath. He’d made it to Karen’s office; there was no point in bottling out now.
“Well, ma’am, I’ve been thi
nking about Coppélia the whole night. Not like that – well, a bit, like that – but I think she needs to be disguised.”
Karen grinned.
“Too much information, Luke.”
Luke blushed as Karen responded to his suggestion.
“Not a bad idea. She’s been wearing a hoodie when she’s come out with us, but a more efficient disguise might be a good idea.”
Luke felt a little better seeing his boss react positively.
“I was thinking, maybe we could change her face? I mean, she’s not human, so it should be possible.”
Although Karen could see the merits of Luke’s suggestion, she wasn’t sure that it was entirely practical,
“It’s a good idea, but changing an android face is a very expensive business and we can’t exactly use money from the Unit’s budget to pay for it.”
“I know a bloke, ma’am, who could do it for us.”
“A bloke?”
“Yes. He’s an android cosmetic technician.”
“How much would he charge?”
“I’m pretty sure he’d do it for nothing.”
Nothing was a great price, but Karen was dubious.
“Why would he do a face-transfer for nothing?”
Luke looked down towards his shoes before answering.
“He owes me a favour, ma’am. Not for anything illegal. Just a favour.”
Karen imagined that Luke must have done the technician a pretty big favour, but didn’t delve any further. Keeping Coppélia’s identity secret was the priority.
“So how do you know him?”
This was where it could become really embarrassing for Luke.
“He’s done some work for me in the past.”
“Done some work? What kind of work?”
Luke needed reassurance before he’d go any further.
“You won’t tell anyone else what I’m about to tell you? Please ma’am?”
Karen smiled at him, trying to put his mind at ease.
“Of course not. Don’t worry.”
Luke took a deep breath. In for a penny, in for a pound.
“I have a sexdroid at home.”
This was quite a shock to Karen. She’d never imagined that one of her team might own a sexdroid. They saw enough of them in their day-to-day business and she’d just assumed that it would be like a busman’s holiday to use a sexbot in their private lives. However, she acted like this was nothing out of the ordinary.
“Go on, Luke.”
This was going to get really embarrassing now.
“Well, how can I put this? She hasn’t got her original face. I mean, I’ve had her customised to look like somebody else. Someone famous. An actress in an old sci-fi movie.”
Karen wasn’t as shocked as Luke might have expected. It wasn’t common, but she knew that some people liked to take their celebrity fantasies one step further. It was illegal for sexdroid manufacturers to create and sell android doppelgangers on the open market, and – if the celebrity discovered that they had a sexdroid likeness out in public, litigation would surely follow – but as long as nobody knew about these androids, no harm was done.
“Which actress?”
“Do you really need to know, ma’am?”
“No. It’s alright Luke. Whatever turns you on. I’m not judging. Continue.”
Luke hoped he could trust his boss. It was too late to change his mind, anyway.
“Anyway, this technician. He’ll do it off the books for us. I’m sure of it.”
Karen wasn’t sure.
“We’ll have to check with Coppélia first.”
Later that evening, three figures approached the rusted warehouse door of a semi-dilapidated building on the edge of an industrial estate. Karen wasn’t impressed with the surroundings.
“Are you sure this is the right place, Luke?”
The young DC nodded.
“Definitely, ma’am. He has an office in the town centre, but this is where he does his ‘off-the-record’ work.”
Luke knocked on the door with a pre-determined rhythm, and the door swung open. Luke went inside and Karen and Coppélia followed him. The building was full of racks and boxes, just as one might expect a warehouse to be, but there was a light coming from an office at the far side of the building. Karen leaned towards Luke and whispered.
“How did he know it was us at the door? By your secret knock? Very old school I must say.”
Luke grinned.
“No, ma’am. Hidden CCTV. It’s very hi-tech here. The knock is just something I do. It’s my normal knock.”
They entered the office to see a man in a crisp white lab coat tending to a disembodied arm. He reminded Karen of a younger version of one of the great American actors, Morgan Freeman. He turned to face his visitors, holding out his hand to greet them. After shaking the man’s hand, Luke made the introductions.
“Stumpy, this is my boss, Detective Inspector Karen Chambers.”
The technician shook Karen’s hand warmly.
“Very pleased to meet you, Detective Inspector Chambers.”
He then turned to Coppélia, casting an expert’s eye over her.
“My, my, my, this is an incredible example of android technology. I’ve never seen such technique – and I’ve been in this business for a very long time.”
He then addressed the android directly. He knew that the android was just a machine, but he’d been taught as a child that good manners cost nothing, and his request for permission to examine her was an instinctive reaction.
“May I take a closer look, Coppélia?”
“Of course, Stumpy.”
He chuckled to himself at how the android had used his nickname. That was a first – normally the androids he worked with would just reply ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to such a request. He pulled Coppélia’s hair back a little to get a better idea of how the face was attached to her skull, before turning back to the two police officers.
“Bad news I’m afraid. I can’t replace her face.”
Karen and Luke looked disappointed, whereas Coppélia showed no reaction to the verdict. Luke was also surprised.
“Why not, Stumpy? You’re the best cosmetic-tech I know of. You did a brilliant job on my Kate.”
“I can’t do anything for her because she’s quite unlike anything I’ve seen before. Tell me, Luke, do you know where your skin starts and finishes?”
“No, of course not.”
“Well, Coppélia’s the same. She’s covered in a one piece synthetic skin. Her face looks like it does because of what’s underneath; it’s not just a case of swapping faces. I could do something with her face but she would look bizarre and disfigured, and I’d rather not do that.”
Coppélia certainly didn’t want that to happen either. She bared her right forearm and showed the self-inflicted wound to the technician.
“Can you do anything about this?”
Stumpy was a little taken aback. He hadn’t been expecting the android to make a direct independent request for something that wasn’t under discussion. He took a jeweller’s eye-glass out of his breast pocket and studied the damaged arm. He was pleased that his guests hadn’t made a wasted journey and he could show off his considerable skills.
“How did this happen? Who did this to you?”
Coppélia looked confused.
“Nobody did it to me. I did it to myself. I had to remove an implanted tracking device.”
“Ok, Coppélia. That, I believe, I can fix. And you won’t even know that there was anything wrong before. But the face? That’s way out of my league. Way out of anybody’s league.”
Ten minutes later, the trio arrived back at the hopper, which had been parked a few hundred metres away so as not to draw attention to Stumpy’s warehouse. Coppélia’s arm looked as good as new. As they settled into their seats, Karen had to ask a question.
“Luke, why do people call him Stumpy? He looks in perfectly good physical shape to me.”
Luke chuckled.
“He had an industrial accident a while back and lost his left arm at the elbow. He was one of the first people to have a limb successfully regenerated. He dealt with the trauma by using humour and called the rest of his original arm ‘Stumpy’. Although his arm’s completely grown back now, the nickname stuck. He likes it. Only his family get to call him by his real name.”
“What’s his real name?”
“Marvin.”
8
Her blindfold removed, Karen blinked as her eyes fought to become accustomed again to the bright light of the midday sun. She looked at Rachel, who had just handed her blindfold back to the decidedly shifty-looking man who had driven them to this remote location about ten miles outside the city. The driver grunted at them.
“Follow me.”
The two police officers did as they were told, as the man led them down an alley to an old dilapidated building with a demolition notice nailed to its door. Karen wondered how Luke and Rachel met these people, but said nothing, not wanting to do anything that might jeopardise the mission. Police officers were bound to cultivate some interesting contacts in the course of their work. Indeed, she was no different and had her fair share of dubious acquaintances – it helped her to do her job. The man peeled back the demolition notice to reveal a retina scanner and leaned into the lens. The security system, satisfied that the man’s retina-map corresponded with that in its database, authorised the door to click open.
Inside the building, it looked like a cut-down version of a space mission control with several banks of flat screen computer monitors attended by what looked like a couple university students. The driver pointed and nodded at two vacant chairs to the right of the door that they’d just passed through.
“Sit there.”
The two women certainly weren’t in one of the most welcoming places they’d ever visited. The adolescents, a boy and a girl, frantically tapped at keyboards in front of two rather antiquated computer monitors, but neither turned to look at the visitors, let alone say anything to them. Karen leaned towards her colleague.
“Are you sure this is the right place? They’re a couple of kids.”
Rachel nodded.
“It’s usually the kids that are the best at this kind of thing. And Rojo is the best, believe me, ma’am.”