The rest of the group stared back silently. “Very good. We’ll meet up here tomorrow morning at seven o’clock sharp. Until then, stay safe.”
Max made a face at Hanlon. The chief raised his eyebrows and shrugged. Max stood with a sigh and started for the exit. “Hold it right there, hotshot.” It was Donovan. Max hung his head and did an about face.
He flashed his best fake smile. “What can I do for you, sunshine?”
Donovan’s smile slumped into a grimace as Max stood before him. “No more being cute, Kincaid. I know that you blabbed to the Resistance.”
Max shrugged. “I talked to them. I know for a damn fact you have no way of knowing what I talked about.”
Donovan’s face was turning red. “Maybe not, but I ain’t stupid. Look… I give everybody one free pass. I’d say you just used yours.” The special agent let out a long sigh and shook his head. “I am grateful for the intel you provided…”
Max’s face screwed up. “It’s intel from the people you don’t seem to give a single damn about! You’d do well to remember that, Donovan.”
“I think you would do well to remember they’re just robots, Kincaid. They have no rights, no protections. I could order them dismantled today in the name of public safety and any judge would abide by it. I told you, I’m grateful for the intel.
“I also told you I’d say you used your one free pass, but I’m not. I’ll be watching you and your little robot buddies real close, I promise you. That said, nobody gets anywhere biting the hand that feeds them.”
“Fine, but why won’t you tell me what you know about the Enlightened? Why not warn the hand that’s feeding you?”
Donovan shook his head and shrugged. “Because we’re not entirely sure what they’re up to, either. Now I have work to do. Unless there’s something else you’d like to discuss, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, I think that’s plenty enough for me.” Max tipped his fedora and turned away.
Hanlon caught up with him as he left the room. “You’re playing with fire, Max.”
“I know what I’m doing, dad.”
“If I was your father, I’d put you over my damn knee… after patting you on the back, of course.”
Max stopped and stared. Donovan shrugged. “You’ve made the case for these Resistance Synthetics being allies. You protect your allies. I have to tip my hat to that, but you need to be careful Max. I can’t protect you from the friggin’ FBI.”
“I told you, I know what I’m doing… But thanks.”
Hanlon waved a dismissive hand. “You better hope you know.”
15
“You ever wonder if you really know what you’re doing?” Max stared thoughtfully at his last egg roll.
Shen wiped the remnants of his own last egg roll from his face. “Max, I’d be gravely concerned if I ever stopped wondering that. Why do you ask?”
Max plopped the egg roll back down. “You know, it wouldn’t have been very long ago that I would be the one calling for the downfall of all Synthetics.” He began to grin. “Funny thing is, now I seem to be the only one concerned with their well-being.”
“I don’t see what’s so funny about that. You’ve been working closely with them for a while now. Serena could practically be your partner at this point, hmm?” Shen gave Max a cheeky wink.
“Oh my god… Anyway, you spent a good chunk of time with them too. The evolved ones, I mean. You have a lot of experience with Synthetics in general. What do you make of them?”
Shen smiled. “They are certainly different, Max. I’ll tell you, there were times that I was working with Nuan and forgot that she wasn’t human. Nuan was a studious nerd, Angel a sulky tough guy, Serena a confident leader…
“It wasn’t programming, though. It felt… natural. They’re as human as you or I, Max, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Max nodded. “Something like that.” He poked at the limp egg roll on his plate. “I suppose I already knew the answer to that question. Special agent Donovan has been giving me a hard time about working with them. Guess I’m just trying to decide if it’s worth it.”
Shen laughed. “Of course it’s worth it! Max, we live in an amazing time, you and I. My great-great grandfather got to witness firsthand the birth of the bipedal, multi-purpose robot. My grandfather worked on some of the earliest Synthetic prototypes.
“Now? Now we together are witnessing something much greater: The birth of the first true artificial life form. I have no doubt they are truly aware. They have original thoughts, feelings, fears and desires.
“Put a gun to their head, and they will flinch. They will fear for their life, and they will do anything they can to take that gun from you. They may even get angry enough to use it on you.
“They are beautiful, dangerous, free-thinking creatures.” Shen grinned broadly. “Sounds pretty human-like to me.”
Max subconsciously moved his hand towards his left eye. “Donovan said they could be dangerous.” He pushed his plate away and sat up. “What if it’s just a matter of time?”
“What do you mean, Max?”
The detective sighed. “I don’t know. What if they can’t handle this preservation protocol thing long-term? They weren’t programmed to deal with it. What if they start to snap like…”
“Like Daryl?” Shen smiled, shaking his head. “Daryl is a bad example, my friend. You’d start going nuts if you shared your head with two other people, too! I haven’t seen anything that would indicate the evolved Synthetics would experience mental issues.”
Max nodded. “It’s just hard… Accepting them, I mean. The times… They certainly are changing…”
Shen eyed Max’s egg roll. “Are you going to eat that?”
Max pushed the plate over, grinning. “Then again, some things never change.”
The cold winds of autumn whistled through the streets into Jefferson Square. Max flipped the collar of his trench coat up and huddled down into it. The tamed roar of the gathering crowds mixing with the howling of the wind made it hard to focus. A thousand excited mouths puffed cloudy white wisps of breath into the morning air.
The detective’s mission was simple: Watch for anything unsual. He couldn’t decide if Donovan wanted him out of the way, or knew Max would be one of the best at picking noise out of the waves of attendees. Regardless of Donovan’s motives, the task was already proving to be a challenge.
He was half blinded by the low-hanging sun. The harsh light glinted off the crowds’ breath, obscuring things even more. His synthetic eye was marginally better. What the infrared mode took away in detail, it made up for in clarity, painting human bodies in bright hues against a chilly black background.
He flinched as someone smacked into him. A bleary-eyed teen in a torn-up ski jacket stumbled backwards. He looked like he was on something. “Whoa! Didn’t see you there.” He tilted his head. “You a cop, or something?”
Max raised an eyebrow. “Something like that.”
“Oh, hey! You look like one of those old-timey private detectives. A dick! Are you a dick?”
Max smirked. “I’ve been called that a few times...” His brow furrowed in thought. “You seem a little out of it this morning.” Max tapped next to his left eye. He captured the teen’s image and began a file search.
“No! I feel great, man! This guy I met gave me some great… Um, cigars.”
“Cigars?” The teen’s file came up. His name was Jeffery Loch, nineteen years old. He’d been in and out of jail a couple of times for possession of a controlled substance. “How’d you get in here, Jeffery?”
“Whoa! How’d you know my name? Are you one of them psychics? Like a psychic dick?”
“Sure. How about that question, though? Did you go through a security checkpoint?”
Jeffery nodded. “Oh yeah, man! I just wanted to see what was going on, but this guy told me he could totally get me inside! All I had to do was take something with me and give it to this other guy…”
Max
grabbed the teen by the shoulders. “He gave you something? For someone else? Do you have it?”
Jeffery suddenly looked more sober. “Hey! Take it easy, dude! I don’t got nothing! I already gave it to the guy. Just some stupid battery-looking thing.”
Max went white. He tapped his watch and held it up close to his ear. “Dillinger, it’s Kincaid. I think we have a breach.”
Jeffery rubbed his shoulders. “I need to stop talking to strangers.”
“Jeffery Loch. He’s been in for drugs a couple of times.”
“You know my last name, too? Where do I live?” The teen smiled goofily.
Max gave him a look. “He said someone had him bring something in for someone else, like a battery. Were you scanning for just whole weapons, or any part of a weapon?” He shook his head at the response. “Son of a bitch.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“Not on purpose. Can you describe the man that gave you the battery? It’s very important.”
“I don’t know… About your height I guess. Bald… Both his eyes kinda looked like your left one, come to think of it! Like one of those fake dudes. A whatchamacallit…”
“A Synthetic.” Max started scanning the crowd around him. He held his watch up again. “Dillinger, I think it was Alexander.” He snapped his head up at the sound of feedback coming from the stage speakers. “Shit!”
A smooth, booming voice poured out of the loudspeakers onstage. “Welcome one and all to today’s rally featuring none other than the esteemed Senator Robert Quade!” The crowd around Max roared in response.
Max shouted into his watch. “Dillinger! We need to hold!” The agent’s response was lost between the rumbling crowd and booming announcer.
“Please welcome New Wave City’s mayor, the venerable John Williams!” More cheers rose as a short, round man with thinning gray hair made his way across the raised stage to a shiny black podium. One chubby hand waved rapidly above him as he sweeped the crowd with smiles.
Max fought to make out what Dillinger was saying. “How viable the threat… Could be a member of the press…”
Mayor Williams tapped at the microphone. “Welcome everyone, indeed! It warms my heart to see so many of our citizens despite the bitter cold that surrounds us this morning!”
Max used the lull in noise to his advantage. “Say again, Dillinger. It’s a madhouse out here.”
“I have standing orders from Donovan to stop the proceedings only if there’s a real and present danger. Vague information about a battery doesn’t really apply…”
“A citizen was asked by someone fitting the description of a known felon to carry an unknown item into a secured area. How is that not a potential danger!”
“If you see anything else, notify me immediately and we will reassess.”
Max dropped his hand back down to his side. “What in the hell…” He looked around. Jeffery had wandered away. “Fantastic.” He began scanning the crowd again, almost hoping to find something unusual.
“…But you’ve heard enough from me. The real star today is one of our state’s very own representatives. Please put your hands together for Senator Robert Quade!”
The crowd exploded. Max grimaced at the volume and watched the people around him. Some were not cheering. They were filming the rally. He saw someone near the left side of the stage holding something bulkier than a phone.
Robert Quade stepped out onto the stage. His walnut brown hair glimmered in the morning light, not a strand out of place. There was a noticeable increase in volume from the attending female contingent as he swept his gaze across the crowd, perfect teeth shining bright.
Max fought his way through the crowd in a bid to get closer to the man with the unusual object. His paths forward disappeared one by one as the crowds jammed closer to the man on stage. He stood on the tips of his feet and zoomed with his synthetic eye.
“Good morning!” The crowd again began to quiet as Quade spoke. “Good morning to all of beautiful New Wave City!” The crowd began to cheer again.
Max snapped a picture of the man with his synthetic eye. He dropped down and lowered his head. He examined the image in his left eye and glowered. The man was a member of the press. He was holding a holo-VR recorder.
Quade continued his speech. “I come to you today to talk about a very important topic. It’s a topic that relates directly to one of the biggest industries in New Wave City. I am speaking, of course, about Synthetics.”
Max turned away from the stage and began scanning the crowd again. He slowly moved towards the middle of the square, a task made easy by people eager to get a little closer to the action. All eyes remained focused on the stage behind him.
“I have introduced a bill on the senate floor that promises comprehensive reform in regards to the laws and regulations that restrict the rights of Synthetics in this country. With the advent of the so-called preservation protocol, it has become more important than ever to bring about these changes. We live in a swiftly changing world…”
Max switched back to infrared. He shook his head in frustration. The bodies of the crowd were pressed closely together now. It was nearly impossible to tell one red and white blob from another. He switched to ultraviolet and continued his sweep.
“…Came here last month to tour Synthetics International with their CEO, Joseph Dietrich.” Quade looked toward the curtains behind him. “Seeing some of these so-called ‘enhanced’ Synthetics first-hand gave me pause.
“What I saw were synthetic beings that appeared to have genuine emotions. I saw a spark in their eyes that I had not seen before in a robot. I went back to Washington and began to research this phenomenon.
“It was shortly thereafter that I came to realize that I could not, in good conscience, carry through on this bill. As of ten AM yesterday morning, I have withdrawn the bill from the senate floor.” Gasps fluttered throughout the audience.
Silence fell heavy on the square. “I understand this comes as quite a shock to my supporters. I’m hoping that when Mister Dietrich comes out he can clarify…”
Max picked up his jaw and turned back to the crowd. Everyone remained frozen, transfixed by the man who had just turned on his own bill. The only movement came from the study puffs of breath rising from the crowds’ open mouths.
The detective froze, his eyes growing large. It was cold enough to see everyone’s breath. He was staring at one man in particular, a man that was not puffing out little white clouds like everyone else. “No…”
“Please welcome Mister Dietrich!” Quade turned to look behind him, smiling. A round of polite applause slowly grew. The blue curtain at the back of the stage billowed.
“Dillinger, we have a replicant!” Max tapped near his left eye. A small, faint yellow blob appeared around the area where the replicant was standing in Max’s vision. “He’s armed! Plasma! Get them off the stage!”
Max dropped his hand and pulled out his own plasma pistol. The replicant raised his arm, confirming Max’s worst fears. “Drop the gun! NWPD!”
Gasps echoed throughout the crowd. Quade turned back around at the sound of Max’s voice. Joseph Dietrich peered through the curtains, a look of shock spreading across his face.
A single, brilliant red round rocketed out of the replicant’s plasma pistol. Max watched in horror as it traveled in slow motion over the heads of those gathered. The round drilled into Robert Quade’s head.
The politician dropped to the stage floor with a thunderous boom. Dietrich disappeared back into the folds of the curtains in a blink. Time came running back to full speed. A woman screamed.
“Everybody get down! Get down!” More screams joined those of the first woman. Max took aim at the replicant, desperately looking for a clear shot. The replicant calmly walked towards the far side of the stage.
“Move it! NWPD!” Max muscled his way forward, trying to keep an eye on the suspect as he struggled to catch up. Shouting men and women reeled back from the detective and his weapon only to ge
t shoved back into his path by confused and enraged others.
The replicant neared the stage. “Freeze, damn it!” The replicant hunkered down and out of Max’s sight. The detective struggled to where he last saw the replicant. The suspect was nowhere to be seen.
Max looked around crazily. He shouted into his watch. “I lost him! I lost contact!” He wasn’t even sure at this point if Dillinger was listening on the other side.
A terrified elderly couple skittered out of Max’s line of fire. The husband nearly tripped over something on the ground. It was a manhole cover left slightly askew. “I knew it!” He shouted into his watch. “He’s in the sewer!”
Max lunged over to the manhole cover. He stowed his pistol and lugged the cover out of the way. He climbed onto a ladder in the hole and lowered himself down as fast as he could go. He hoped all the way down that the replicant hadn’t waited around for him.
His feet found solid ground. Max tapped the side of his face again. The chamber around him glowed in the pale green of night vision. He entered the tunnel in front of him, staying to one side to avoid splashing in the standing water.
He followed the tunnel for a few dozen feet before it split in two directions. He stopped, listening intently. Everything was silent save for the sound of water dripping in the distance.
Max faintly heard someone yell. “Freeze!” He jumped at the sound of a discharging hand gun. Three loud pops echoed down the left tunnel. Max turned right and ran.
A few dozen feet later, he knelt beside a shivering FBI agent. His breathing was rapid and shallow. He stared at Max with wide, pleading eyes. The life faded from them before Max could say anything.
Max stood and ran on, determined to run this perp down. He heard more shouting, followed by more gunfire. He pulled his piece and broke into a full-on sprint.
He rounded a corner. Another FBI agent slumped against the wall. He slowly slid down the curved surface and lay still. Max shot at the silhouette of the man standing in front of the agent. The round went wide. Red sparks and bits of concrete flew from where the shot drilled into the wall.
Preservation Protocol Page 24