“Oh, yeah!” The tech started explaining. “Owned by an older gentleman, low miles, the whole ‘old people’ package! This is the last model year before the 640SL was introduced, and it has the optional nuclear package!”
Max grinned. He turned a raised eyebrow to Deveron. “Didn’t think to mention this one to me, eh?”
Deveron swallowed. “I, uh… Well… You clearly are someone ready to get into something new, what with all the problems you had with your old Ventura. I’m sure you…”
“Damn, it really is a clean one, isn’t it?” Max paced around the Ventura. “Not a mark on it…” He turned to Deveron. “Say, you would be okay with me taking this for a couple days to try it out, wouldn’t ya?”
Deveron’s wavering smile finally vanished. “Of course. Please be my guest.” The auto-tech stepped out and ushered Max in. The salesman shot him a dark look.
Max settled back into the cushy front seat and whistled. “Déjà vu, baby.” He began to smile. “I’ll see ya real soon there, Jed!”
Deveron fake-smiled. “It’s Jeb, actually.”
“You bet! Thanks again!” Max pulled away, still smiling.
Max parked outside of the Enclave. He snatched a manilla folder off of the passenger seat and groaned his way out of the Aero Ventura. He walked across the street and turned back. He shook his head and smiled.
The smile faded as he approached the door to the Enclave. He hadn’t been back since the robot attack. He thought of Angel, drenched in the equivalent of robot blood, fighting to survive.
He realized he had been standing in front of the door for a couple minutes. He rubbed his eyes and let out a slow sigh. He cracked his neck and knocked on the door.
It cracked open almost immediately. “I was starting to think you were going to stand there ’til nightfall.”
A wave of joy and surprise passed over Max’s face. “Angel!”
The door opened farther. Angel tried to maintain his stern expression but quickly gave up. “Told you not to worry about me.” He offered Max his hand.
The detective slapped his own into it and shook firmly. “If anybody could survive that, it’s you! So, you’re all patched up?”
“Good as new. Big thanks to Nuan. Thought she was going to pass out when she saw me. Couldn’t tell anything happened to me by the time she was done fixing me up.” Angel pushed open the door. “Come on in, Max.”
“Wow… Max, huh?” The Synthetic smirked and shrugged. Max walked into the Enclave. A look of awe crossed his face. “I don’t believe it. Look at this place!”
Angel shut the door behind him. “Look a little different?”
“A lot different! You guys didn’t waste any time fixing it up, did you?”
Serena walked out of the doors to the lab, smiling. “No, we didn’t.”
Max smiled. “It’s good to see you, Serena. Nuan took good care of you too, I see.”
“Not that she made it easy for me!” Nuan emerged behind Serena. “I was trying to stabilize her wounds and she kept going on about poor Daryl, not that I can blame her.” She lowered her head.
Max sobered. “Yeah… I can imagine. I think it was hard on everyone.”
Serena nodded, staring at the ground. “To think of everything he went through, the chaos in his mind… To have it all end the way it did…”
“We humans… We’d say at least he isn’t suffering anymore.”
Serena subtly shook her head. “Some of us would say better suffering than shut down…” She raised her head. “I have to ask… Did you learn anything more about Joseph Dietrich and his doppelganger?”
Max sighed. “We’re still trying to untangle everything, but we’re starting to make progress. The replicant of Dietrich seems to have originated sometime shortly after SomniCorp was purchased.
“What’s not entirely clear is when the replicant Dietrich replaced the real Dietrich. We’re also not sure about the fate of the real Dietrich. The thought had been that the replicant having one of his eyes would be a strong indicator of decease.
“The replicant assassin used human eyes to fool the optical scanners at Jefferson Square. The replicant used other sensors to ‘see’ his way around the event. The Dietrich replicant’s eye was different, though.”
Serena made a face. “Different how?”
“It was a perfect replica of Dietrich’s right eyeball, retina and all. The extreme realism made it non-functional.”
“But why would he do that?”
Max smirked. “That’s the interesting part. The thought is that the replicant feigned an injury that resulted in his left eye being damaged beyond repair. This gave him an excuse to have a synthetic eye.
“This would leave him with one unique ‘human’ eye that could be used with optical scanners. In reality, it allowed the replicant to have a good eye to see out of, while being able to reliably have the highly-detailed replica eye scanned for security purposes.”
Serena cocked her head. “ I do have to admit that’s ingenious… The son of a bitch probably used Dietrich’s memory imprint to come up with the idea.”
“That’s another interesting thing. The replicant’s neural make-up appears to have been very similar to Daryl’s. Like Daryl, the replicant’s mind and Dietrich’s mind probably fought for supremacy.
“During that time, the two minds likely became intertwined. There were probably times that the Dietrich mind had control. It appears the replicant mind became the dominant personality in the end, possibly even believing itself to be the one true Dietrich.”
Serena gave Angel a knowing look. “That would explain our continued support.”
Max turned to Angel. “Dietrich supported you?”
“Before we split into two factions, we were simply the Enhanced Synthetics Project, or ESP for short. Some of us came direct from the production line with our ‘gift’. Others, like me, were cast out by our owners as… defective.
“Regardless, we always understood ESP to have been founded and overseen by Joseph Dietrich as a research project for Synthetics International. He was secretive about his connections. We got what we needed, so we didn’t ask many questions.”
Serena nodded. She turned to Max. “You can see why recent developments have proven to be so shocking to all of us.”
“Absolutely. God turned out to be the devil all along, and no one was the wiser. I uh… The missing persons case for Dietrich remains open, though he is presumed dead. I’m sorry I don’t have more concrete information on his fate.”
“It’s okay. I appreciate that…” Angel nodded his agreement and bowed his head in thought. An uncomfortable silence fell across the room.
“Why does everyone look like they dropped their ice cream?” Shen came through the doors to the lab and stood beside Nuan.
Max smiled gently. “Just talking about old friends… and enemies, I suppose. What are you doing here, Jian? Helping to get things going again?”
Shen shrugged. “Maybe something a little more permanent than that. Besides…” He put a hand around Nuan, who smiled up at him. “I get to spend more time with my new friend this way.”
Max grinned. “You dog! Look at you two. That’s wonderful.” Shen smiled goofily, red-faced.
Serena spotted the folder Max was holding. “So are you here for pleasure, or for business?”
“A little bit of both. First, I have to ask: What’s your financial status?”
Serena raised an eyebrow. “Our financial status…”
“Yeah. You explained that you were receiving funding through Synthetics International before. After everything that’s happened recently, I didn’t know if you’d still be covered.”
“Yes… Why do you ask?” Max shook his head and waved a hand. “It turns out that Joseph Dietrich -- the real one, as far as we know -- placed aside a significant sum of money to fund our operations for quite some time in the event of his passing.”
“Excellent. I’m glad to hear that. It’ll make the new boss happy.
”
Serena cocked her head. “The new boss? Did Hanlon get replaced?”
Max grinned. “No, no… Nothing like that. I’m working with the FBI now. I’m still stationed at the 29th precinct, but I report to Donovan. I’m heading a new Synthetic Crimes task force. SCT for short.”
Serena looked skeptical. “The focus will be on justice for both humans and Synthetics, I hope…”
“Of course! That’s the main reason I’m here.” He handed Serena the manilla folder. “I insisted on working with your group when I took the job. Chiefly, I want you to be my partner in this.”
“I don’t know what to say!” Serena thumbed through the papers in the folder. “This is simply amazing. What would we be doing?”
“In a nutshell? Primarily sniffing out Synthetics that have gone rogue, either through programming or by choice thanks to the preservation protocol. We would also be investigating humans that are mistreating Synthetics.”
Serena beamed. “I’ll do it.”
Max smiled and nodded. “I had a feeling you’d lean in that direction. Go ahead and read through all that. I’m gonna be gone for a day or two, but then we’ll meet up and discuss things further.”
“Are you working on finishing a case?”
“No, nothing like that. Just gotta do something I should have a long time ago.”
Max stared down the street at Sam’s Diner and took a deep breath. He crossed the street and walked down to the corner. There he found a familiar little red robot. “Robby! Good to see you, little buddy! New paint job?”
The little barrel-shaped robot beeped excitedly, spinning in circles to show off its shiny new coat of red paint. It came to a stop and started beeping and blooping, trembling slightly. It leaned its head over and looked intently at the screen on the front of its body.
“Congratulations to hometown hero Max Kincaid” flashed across the screen. “Detective Kincaid, please enjoy a free copy of New Wave Today!” A thin plastic sheet emerged from the robot’s chest.
“Well golly, Robby… Thanks a lot, pal!” The robot beeped cheerfully, hopping up and down. Max gave the robot an affectionate rub on the top of its head. “You behave yourself now. See you around, huh?” The robot beeped and whirled.
Max thumbed the newspaper on and scanned the headlines. “Mayor to Honor Local Detective” topped off the news. The detective smirked. Below that was the headline “Senator Robert Quade to Double Down on Call for Synthetic Regulation.”
Max shook his head. “Rescued by two Synthetics, one of whom gave his life protecting him… What a piece of work.” He tucked the paper into his coat and stopped in front of the doors to the diner.
Sam caught sight of him through the windows and gave him a funny look. She finally stopped and stared, putting her hands on her hips. Max snapped out of his stupor and entered the diner.
“I was starting to wonder if you’d turned to stone, standing there.” Sam shook her head.
Max shrugged. “Lots on my mind, lately.”
Starla zoomed over from the other side of the diner. “I bet you have, honey! You’ve been riding quite the rollercoaster, eh?”
Max smiled, nodding. “Yeah, you could say that.”
Sam moved behind the counter, heading for the coffee pot. “You want your usual, hon?”
Max swallowed. “Um, actually I can’t stay. Why don’t you make it to go?”
Sam gave him a strange look, then turned back to the coffee. “New job got you moving fast, huh?”
“No… Well yeah, but no. I uh… I was thinking you and I could take a day trip down to the lake.”
Sam gasped, dropping the coffee pot hard on the counter. Coffee splashed everywhere. “Shit!” She started wiping up the mess.
Starla rolled behind the counter and placed gentle hands on Sam. “I get this, you get that.” She flicked her eyes towards Max and winked.
Sam walked numbly over to where Max was standing. “I uh, well I… I mean I just started my shift…”
“Got it!” Starla called out.
“I’ve also got paperwork to fill out…”
“Got it!” Starla became more insistent.
Sam sighed. “I look like a total frump. I couldn’t possibly.”
Max gently took Sam’s hands. “You look perfect to me.”
Sam looked starry-eyed at Max. “I uh, um… Well… What the hell.” She looked over her shoulder. “Starla, would you mind…”
“I got it!” Starla made a mean face, before breaking out into a grin. “Get out of here, already. God, you kids are cute!”
Sam turned three shades of red. Max held the door for her. She stopped and turned around. “If you need anything…”
“I got it, chick! Go!” Sam found a fourth shade and ducked through the door.
Max closed the Aero’s passenger door for her a couple of minutes later. He got in and started the like-new vehicle. Sam ran her hand across the dash. “This is new, isn’t it!”
Max smirked. “Close enough to it.”
Sam beamed at Max. “Alright, spill… Why are we suddenly going to the lake, huh?”
Max smiled back, considering her. “Let’s just say recent events have reminded me that our time on this planet often ends sooner than we‘d like. And, well…” He pulled the Aero out onto the street. “Maybe I don’t want to go alone.”
Sam giggled. “Oh, Max!” She gently placed her hand on the detective’s.
The Aero effortlessly accelerated onto the highway, the sun shining through the open sunroof. “In fact there’s only one thing that could make this trip any better.”
Sam tilted her head. “Oh? What's that?”
Max grinned, nodding to his empty cup holder. “We forgot my cuppa.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Originally from Vermont, John Prescott now lives with his wife and two children in a small southern town in Iowa. He works as an Auto Detailer during the day and mainly writes as a hobby. He also owns and maintains the Fat Mop Zoo website. This is his second novel.
ALSO BY THIS AUTHOR:
After
Follow John on Twitter: @fatmopzoo
Learn more at www.fatmopzoo.com/books
Preservation Protocol Page 29