Max removed his fedora and scratched at his head. “Yeah… I guess I didn’t think about it that way. I suppose we could get you something cheap across town if you’re not comfortable.”
“No…” Daryl stared out the windshield at the car parked in front of them. “I have a perfectly good suit hanging in my closet. Daryl’s closet. Besides, I think maybe this would be good for me, being here.”
Max plunked his hat back on his head. “Good man. Let’s go.” The two exited the Aero. Max shut his door. The rear bumper drooped. Daryl shut his door and The rear bumper clattered to the ground. Max shrugged. “At least it won’t drag no more.”
Daryl stood at the front door to the apartment building and typed in his access number. The computer pad buzzed at him. The screen flashed “ACCESS DENIED”. He tried again and received the same result. He looked to Max.
The detective stepped up to the pad and pressed a blue button with a police badge icon. A white square appeared in the middle of the screen. He placed his thumb in the square for a second. The pad beeped, and the front door clicked open.
Daryl followed Max into the main lobby. “I’m guessing my code not working might be related to my uh, Daryl’s current condition.”
Max clapped Daryl on the back and strode up to the security desk. He tipped his hat. “Afternoon. My friend here needs to get into his apartment.”
The security guard looked unimpressed. He sat up with a sigh. “Name and apartment number?”
Daryl stepped forward. “Uh, Daryl Marston. Apartment thirty-nine.”
The guard tapped at his computer. He looked from the screen to Daryl, his brow furrowing. “Sorry to tell you friend, this says you’re dead.” He stared at Daryl. “Say, you a Synthetic? Synthetics aren’t allowed to rent, here.”
Daryl looked from the guard to Max. “I, uh…”
“He is a Synthetic, and Daryl Marston is…” He looked at Daryl, then down at the desk. “He’s indisposed. This Synthetic has the rights to the items in that apartment, however.”
The guard chuckled. “Since when do Synthetics have rights, huh?”
Max produced his badge. “Since right now. Look, we’re just picking up a few things and then we’ll be leaving. No worries.”
“No worries for you. Badge or not, I can’t let you in. That’s not the guy that rented the apartment, he’s a fucking robot. Unless you have a warrant, then you need to take a walk.”
Max spit on the floor. “Fine, then.” He pulled out his phone and called the precinct. “Hanlon, it’s Max. Did we do anything warrant-wise on Marston’s apartment?” He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really? And he signed… Fantastic. I’ll let security here know. Thanks.”
Max shot the guard a shit-eating grin. “Well wouldn’t you know? The landlord consented to a warrantless search and seizure on Daryl Marston’s apartment. Do you know what that means?”
“That you think I have to let you into…”
“I know that you have to let me into that apartment and you will… Or you can spend a night in jail for obstruction of justice.”
The security guard fumed. “Fine! But you can bet your ass I’ll be calling in to confirm this.”
Max winked. “Please do. Makes for less paperwork for me.”
The guard jammed a plastic card into the computer and whipped his mouse around. He ripped the card out of the computer a moment later and tossed it across the desk to Max. “Access is good for twenty-four hours. After that, you’ll have to come back for recertification. Do me a favor and don’t come back.”
“I’ll try my best. Thank you for your cooperation.”
The guard grunted. He glared at Daryl. “You just wait, robot. Robert Quade will put your kind in their place.”
Daryl looked confusedly from the guard to Max. The detective shook his head. “Let’s just get to the elevator, huh?” He pointed at the guard. “Keep your nose clean. You’re clean, right? Maybe I should run a background on you.”
The guard blanched. “Definitely a thought.” Max walked with Daryl to the elevator. “Some people, am I right?” Daryl nodded nervously.
“Punch a button, my friend.” Daryl punched the button marked “6” on the control panel. He visibly relaxed as the doors hid away the guard sitting at his desk. “Who was he talking about, Max?”
The detective waved a dismissive hand. “He’s a Senator. One of his campaign promises was stronger oversight of Synthetics. Nobody to worry about.”
Daryl smirked. “Not yet, anyway.”
“No, not yet…” The elevator dinged quietly. Max gestured to the opening doors. “Lead the way.”
Daryl walked down the hallway to his apartment. He looked around nervously. “Weird being back here after everything that‘s happened.” He stopped at the door marked “39” and slipped the card into a slot in the doorjamb.
There was a beep and a click. Daryl opened the door and quickly slipped in. He shut the door as soon as Max had passed. “Sorry. All I could think of is what I would say if a neighbor saw me.”
“You sound like you did something wrong, Daryl. But you didn’t…”
Daryl looked at a photo sitting on a bookcase across from the door. It was of a younger Daryl with a middle-aged woman. “Just being here feels wrong, to be honest.”
Max waved his hands. “Don’t let that idiot downstairs get to you, Daryl. You have a right to be here. This is your place, your things.”
Daryl gently touched the image of the woman with the first two fingers of his left hand. “No… This is Daryl Marston’s apartment. I am Daryl… but not the Daryl.” He picked the picture up and showed it to Max.
“This is Daryl when he was younger. That’s his mother, Lainie. She passed away a couple years ago.”
Max bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”
Daryl grinned and shook his head. “I’m not. Can you imagine what that poor woman would be going through right now? No…” He put the picture back. “She’d see her son in me, but I wouldn’t be her son. And when she realized I wasn’t him, it would…”
Daryl shuddered. Tears started streaming down his cheeks. He took a big, tremulous breath. “I have all his memories, Max. In some ways I guess I am him, but I’ll never truly be Daryl.” He shook his head. “I never asked for this.”
Max nodded. “Hardly anyone asks for what they end up with in this world, kid. It’s what you choose to do with what you're handed that matters.”
“Yeah…” He gazed at the image of Lainie Marston. “That’s the thing, though. What do I do?” Max remained silent. Finally, Daryl took a deep breath and sighed it out. “Guess that’s for me to figure out. I’m uh… I’m sorry, Max… for acting weird.”
Max grinned. “You’re not acting weird, Daryl. You’re acting human.”
Daryl smirked. “I don’t know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment anymore.”
“Well I consider it a compliment. Go ahead and grab what you need and we can get out of here.”
Daryl looked around. He shook his head. “Actually… I think I’m going to spend the night.” Max looked surprised. “Confront your demons. That’s what they say, isn’t it? I uh… I think it might be good for me.”
Max shrugged. “You’re a grown man… Synthetic. Anyways, that’s fine by me. Just call me tomorrow when you’re ready to leave, alright?”
“I know where the precinct is, Max. I can get there by myself.”
“I’m worried about someone getting you before you get there, though. Just make my life easy, would ya?”
Daryl sighed but nodded. “Alright, dad. I’ll call you in the morning.”
Max grinned. “Good boy.”
13
Max knocked on Daryl’s door and waited. “Coming!” Max hiked an eyebrow and muttered to himself. “Sounds awful cheerful.”
Daryl opened the door a minute later. He stood with one hand on his hip, the other in the air in a flourish. He was wearing a crisp, dark gray business suit. A perfectly knotted navy blue
tie sat atop a powder blue dress shirt beneath the jacket. A pair of polished black dress shoes finished off the look.
Max nodded his approval. “Pretty sharp for an accountant. Much better than jeans and a hoodie.”
Daryl smiled. “I can dress the part, when I need to.”
Max yanked his head toward the elevator. “You ready?”
“Yeah. Let’s go.” Daryl shut his door and walked with the detective.
“How’d you sleep? Alright?”
“I uh, didn’t really sleep I guess. I lay on the couch and… I don’t know, hibernated I guess?” Max guffawed. Daryl frowned. “I’m still figuring all this out still, alright?”
Max punched the elevator button and waited for the door. “I think maybe you and Serena need to have a talk. Isn’t that guy in your head helping you out?
Daryl stepped in the elevator and hit the lobby button. “You mean Julian? He’s there but he’s become… quiet.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure what the deal is. I suppose he’s trying to come to grips with his own reality.”
Max grunted. Daryl’s brow furrowed as he followed the detective towards the exit. “Huh. I was expecting to see our friendly security guard from last night.”
“I think he might end up missing a few days.“ Max tossed Daryl a wink.
Daryl’s jaw dropped. “Wait a minute. What did you do?”
Max shrugged, grinning. “My job.”
The two men stepped out into the brisk autumn morning. The sun shone bright enough to make Max squint, though the warmth did little to dent the cold that wrapped around him. He looked at wide-eyed Daryl, seemingly unaffected. The detective suddenly found himself envying the young man’s unusual condition.
He dropped himself into his old Aero Ventura and slammed his door on the cold. He fired up the old lady and stretched stiff fingers towards the dashboard vents. “Must be nice, being immune to the weather. I can’t even see your breath.”
Daryl laughed. “I just realized. Don’t even know why I still breathe. It’s more realistic, I guess.” He leaned back into his seat as Max pulled into the slow-moving morning traffic. “So have you heard from Esposito yet?”
Max shook his head. “I don’t think it will be long. I imagine he was running his mouth to Adesso about ten minutes after he set foot outside the precinct.” Daryl nodded.
“That’s it. I need coffee.” He pulled off into a drive-through donut shop. “You want anything? Do you still eat and all that?”
Daryl shrugged. “I don’t know!”
Max laughed. “You’ll be seeing Serena later today. I’ll get you a notebook.” He pulled up to the drive-through speaker box.
A garbled voice greeted him. “Welcome to the Delightful Donut. What’ll ya have, please?”
Max thought about the boys at the precinct. “You still running that dozen donuts for a dozen clams deal?”
There was a pause. “…Sorry… Dozen donuts and ham?”
Max sighed. “No! The dozen donuts for twelve bucks!”
“Oh! That deal just ended, sir.”
“Well what are they now?”
“The donuts? They’re right here, sir.”
“No!” Max gave Daryl a heavy-lidded look. Daryl stifled a laugh. Max turned back to the speaker. “How much for a dozen!”
“No need to shout, sir! Twenty dollars for a dozen.”
“Twenty! God… fine. I’ll take a dozen glazed donuts.”
Another minute passed. “Okay. One dozen glazed donuts. Anything else?”
Max’s phone began to ring. “Oh, wonderful timing.” He looked at the screen. “Fuck. Me.”
“Sir, I didn’t get that.”
Daryl started laughing. Max elbowed him. “A medium coffee!” He answered his phone. “Kincaid.”
“It’s Esposito. This line secure?”
“Would you like to order our new maple cinnamon bun for only one dollar extra?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Great! That’ll be…”
Max smacked the steering wheel. “No! I don’t want no damn bun!”
“Sir, if you continue your profanity I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“Damn it, Kincaid! Is it secure or not? What’s with the cinnamon bun?”
“It’s secure! Fine, a cinnamon bun! I’m pulling around.”
“Thank you! That will be twenty-five dollars and seventy-five cents.”
“Is this a bad time, Kincaid? I’d hate to interrupt your morning cinnamon bun.”
“No! Just… Give me a minute.” Max raced the Aero forward. He practically punched the paypad with his thumb. The girl at the pay window eyed him warily. “I haven’t had my coffee, yet.”
“I can tell.” Esposito said.
“I wasn’t talking to you! I said wait!” The donut girl timidly held out the box of donuts to Max. He grabbed it and tossed it on Daryl, who was quickly losing the fight not to laugh. Max took his coffee and hoisted it in salute. “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”
He took a sip and hurriedly pulled the Aero into a spot in the nearby parking lot. “Alright, Esposito. Let’s talk.”
“Are you sure? Do you want to have your cinnamon bun first?”
“Go to hell, Esposito.”
“I just came from there, remember? Whatever. I had a good long chat with Adesso last night. We discussed a few things.”
“You don’t say? Get on with it, Esposito.”
“Not a fan of storytelling, I see. Fine… Yes, he says yes. I don’t believe it, but he’s agreed to meet with you. Adesso wants to meet with you at his favorite restaurant, the Piccolo Fiore. Tonight. Seven o’clock sharp.”
“Not much for wiggle room, is he? Alright. I’m sure he won’t mind if I bring a couple of dinner guests?”
“No more than two, and he said no cops.”
“I hope I’m the exception.”
“Naturally. I’m serious though, Kincaid. He said bad things will happen if he smells cops. Other than that, I have to admit… He almost sounded tickled by the idea. Call me intrigued.”
“Well tell him I cannot wait to chat with him later. Your assistance in this matter will not be forgotten, my friend.”
“Yeah, yeah… Go eat your damn cinnamon bun.” The phone went dead before Max could reply.
He flashed Daryl a grin. “Looks like we’re having Italian, tonight.”
“Aw, you shouldn’t have! Hanlon walked over to the donuts sitting on the break room table. “Who’s the cinnamon bun for?”
Max shot Daryl a look, who stifled a grin. “It’s a long story. Consider ‘em a celebratory snack.”
“Oh? What’s the occasion?” Hanlon picked out a chocolate glazed.
“Me and Daryl here have a dinner date with Don Adesso tonight.”
Chocolate crumbs went everywhere as Hanlon struggled not to choke. “You’re shitting me! How? Why? I don’t…”
“Easy there, chief. He wants to meet at the Piccolo Fiore at seven. No cops, present company accepted.”
Hanlon chewed thoughtfully. “Well, surely he’s going to expect us to set a perimeter around the restaurant.”
Max nodded. “I’d be amazed if he didn’t.”
“You’re still going to sneak one of us in with you though, right?” Max shook his head. “So you’re going to have dinner with the mob boss of New Wave City with no backup. You’re either stupid, or planning something.”
“Right on two. I’ll have Daryl with me, and hopefully Serena.”
“A pair of Synthetics? That’s your backup?”
“Serena will be a great asset when it comes to explaining the whole Synthetic mess to Adesso. Daryl is exhibit A for why he needs to be watching his back. If Adesso gets screwy, well…” He winked at Daryl. “Either one of them is strong enough to fold him like a pair of pants.”
Hanlon shook his head. “Maybe so, but you’re going to be in Adesso’s world.”
“I need to talk to Serena yet, but I think I can even things out a bit. As for tha
t perimeter, can I get Richie on that?”
Hanlon smiled. “You got a lot of faith in that kid, don’t ya? Yeah… I think he can handle it.”
“Good enough. I’ll touch base with you after we’re through talking with Serena.” Max reached in the donut box and snagged the cinnamon bun. “Enjoy the donuts.”
Shen was seated, bent over a black and gray contraption. His face was pressed into a viewport. The metal and plastic casing curved in a fluid arc down to the table it sat on, the world’s most aerodynamic microscope.
He rested his forearms on padded rests bolted to the table. His hands and fingers were nestled in an electro-mechanical apparatus. The gross movements of his thumbs and fingers were translated by the attached computer into movements that were measured in micrometers.
Nuan sat nearby at a similar apparatus, in a similar position. Serena stood between the two of them, watching their progress on a wall-mounted flat screen. An intricate array of blue-green pathways webbed across the screen. Dull yellow points sat motionless in these pathways. Jacob’s neural net.
Two pairs of forceps, wire-thin even under extreme magnification, methodically moved across the surface of Jacob’s lifeless mind. Nuan’s moved with a sort of regimented grace. Shen’s forceps were beginning to falter.
“Aiya!” Shen watched helplessly in his viewport as a yellow point was knocked out of existence by an errant twitch of his hand. “Tamade!” He pulled away from his apparatus with a groan. “Apologies, but I need a break!”
Serena smirked. “Such language! Of course you can take a break.”
Shen rubbed his eyes. “I can see now why you were apprehensive about accepting my help. I have the knowledge, but also the limitations of being a human. I am trying, though.”
Nuan pulled out of her apparatus and smiled at Shen. “I will certainly admit to being concerned about your help in the beginning. You have proven yourself capable several times over, though!
“The way you manipulated the primary security subroutines to give us the appearance of a maintenance process was ingenious! You’ve also shown great care and finesse in the ways you’ve handled the secondary synapses. I think you’ve much more to give.”
Preservation Protocol Page 19