Adam is sleeping on the couch, even though I told him that I don’t plan on sleeping tonight. “You have to get proper rest,” he told me, “so I’ll sleep on the couch so you can sleep on the bed.” He’s illogical, foolish, and living in his own world. Most of the time, I’m convinced he never even set foot out of his academy or precinct.
That’s way it’s more than justifiable to research his record on the police database. I still have a username and passcode that was made specifically for me, and all I had to do was move some money in a certain direction. As I load up the website, as outdated as it is, I light myself a cigarette. Maybe the real reason Adam wanted to sleep on the couch was to avoid the second-hand smoke.
“Adam Chen: Currently Suspended.” Sounds about right. I have a whole roster of past engagements, cases, conduct offenses, and anything that can come into mind. So far, there’s nothing in conduct offenses. Not even what happened in Wan Sui tower. Makes sense, since there’s not enough evidence to convict him or try him, and the fact that military police like sticking up for each other.
Adam Chen is as clean as a whistle. Nothing outrageous. Even as I’m skimming through and having my left eye scan for any outrageous data, I’m not finding anything different from the average New Beijing hustle. “Terrorist attack. Murder case. Traffic violation.” Nothing that can provide insight to him. “Missing Persons: Anna Chen.” Wait, Anna Chen?
I click onto the page. There are countless people with the last name of “Chen,” especially in consideration to how Chinese nationals have been living within the Golden Quadrant. But at the same time, there’s no harm in searching for extra details that Adam Chen might potentially have.
As I click onto it, I see a picture of Anna Chen. Young girl, seems to be just touching the precipice of adulthood. Black hair that has decent length. Skin that looks smooth, like a glass filled with the wine of life and energy. But as I scroll down, I find multiple lines of “REDACTED.” Looks touchy. Strange, even for the military police.
Suddenly, my phone gets a notification. I shut off the computer before reaching for my phone. “Message from: Anonymous. Text: You are looking for me. I want to meet with you in private. Meet me at these coordinates.” Attached with it is, as expected, a set of coordinates. It could easily be a Wan Sui trap, since they’re probably aware that I’m investigating the case. But I could care less if I die tomorrow or live today. I load my gun, stock it into my arm, and prepare to leave.
Adam is still on the couch. He’s asleep, though his hand is still tightly wrapped around his pistol. He’s paranoid. I’ll let him get his sleep. Besides, I doubt this man would make much of a benefit. I grab the keys to the car and I leave the apartment room without a single sound. I prefer working alone anyway.
The night covers the city like a blanket, despite the lights of the billboards providing wholly different stars. My weary eyes blink like a moon changing phases; shades of darkness quietly cake my eyelids and the skin around it. People always said I looked like a cat, but I prefer my cats to have black fur instead of my blonde hair.
Police are back to being a little more passive, and their cars aren’t as frequent. That explains the increase in gunshots. Suddenly, forcing me to halt my car, is a man being thrown onto the street. My eye does a quick analysis: multiple bruises, exhilarated heart rate, and he’s of Asian origin. Perpetrators seem to be a group of skinheads decked in tattoos. To say I see a swastika is an obvious observation.
“We got ourselves a fucking chink!” I hear one of them say. This is an irritating blockade. It might make me late for my appointment. “Our ancestors worked hard to build America! And here you are with your ugly language and think that you’re the boss?” They spit on the man and kick him. It’s all foolish, since the victim is either an Asian American or a poor immigrant to be living outside of the Golden Quadrant. I honk my horn to tell these people to hurry up.
Their attention is turned to me. I suppose that’s a reasonable response. The Asian manages to scamper to his feet and run away from the scene as the skinheads wave at me with their metal batons. “Get out the fucking car!” they yell. Well, it doesn’t seem like they’re going to move out of the way. I step outside. I count four.
They immediately whistle and look at my entire body. “Blonde hair? Blue eyes? You sure are an Aryan!” Interesting words, especially since that false idea of eugenics has been debunked numerous times. “May you please move out of the road. You are blocking traffic.” They start to laugh like a pack of hyenas. “Oh yeah? I think your fine ass is blocking traffic too!” they jeer.
“Are you going to move?” I ask. They shake their heads. “Not while you’re here, lady.” Sounds good. I draw my pistol. I pull the trigger four times, and I hear four skulls crack open. They fall onto the ground, their red blood tainting their proud white skin, as if there was something proud to take from just being a racist. I get back into my car and feel it bump over the bodies. I have an appointment to get to.
I might be a little late, because of that incident, so it’s wise that I shoot first next time. But as I said, lives are nothing to me. Psychopathy and all. I kill someone, and then I casually drive away. There’s nothing else about it. I’m sure that Adam, if he was here, would be giving me a manifesto about how wrong it is to feel apathy when killing someone. I could care less.
The location looks like an abandoned parking garage. I exit the car and lock it, since it’s one of those areas that homeless like to frequent due to the minimal traffic of police. It’s an interesting thing. The Americans were unable to resolve the issue of homelessness, and the Chinese are just as disabled. Some things truly never change.
My left eye twitches within moments. Being detected: 100 feet away. Surely enough, it’s the hooded figure I’ve been looking for. I step closer to the figure, getting just close enough that we can talk. But before I can let out a word, they end up being the ones who initiate the conversation.
“Evania Searcher, right?” Their voice is inhumanly robotic, as if a machine were behind the controls. “ I heard that you were looking for me. I’m sorry to cut out the enjoyable part of your investigation, but here I am.” Interesting. I feel like I have to wonder what little birdie let the truth out of the cage, but I supposed it isn’t hard.
Then, they hold out their hand. It becomes pixelated, almost like the C.U.B.E. I researched a good while ago. Emerging from the hand, almost like an artificial chip holder, is a drive embedded with tian 天. “I supposed that you were about to ask why I was at Wan Sui tower, so here it is. We got a call about this being on his person and took it. It’s been nothing but trouble and I want to stay far away from it, so here it is.”
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Hmm. What an interesting move. “Been seeing Wan Sui assassins?” I ask. They nod and continue holding it out. They want me to take it. “Interesting,” I say aloud, “you are being hunted for the chip, and instead of trying to use it as leverage, you just want to toss it away.” But they don’t respond to my intuition, they just keep holding it out. “Are you going to take it or not?”
Instead of taking it, I pull out my gun and fire it into their chest. Instead of seeing guts spill, I see a body pixelate. Not a single sign of pain or long term damage, as the pixels have already begun to regenerate. “You took the C.U.B.E. I find it hard to believe that suddenly you want out of your big games. I have the blueprints. I find it more plausible that a foolish kid grabbed your unit, and now you have the brain of a kid at your disposal.”
They try and kick me with a powerful hook strike to my head, but I duck in good time. They follow with more punches and strikes, but my eye catches each and every one of their movements far before they can even make contact with my skin. Using my metal arm like a sword, I parry and block every attack. “Was I correct?” I ask. “Or are you just going to keep trying to fight?”
They jump back, scoffing as they stand straight. “I’m only in power temporarily. A stun grenade’s basically made her as drunk as a sailor, and since we had an encounter with this big cyborg that killed Wan Sui, I had to ask her to relinquish control for a little bit.” Hmm. Interesting testimony. “Did the cyborg happen to have metal limbs and use unarmed combat?”
“How… how did you know?” they ask. I start a cigarette, since I’m sure this is going to take a while. “Adam Chen,” I say, “the one you saved in the tower. He came to me for help. Told me a few things. In fact, he’s the main thing that led me to you.” They look frozen in disbelief. Then they pull down their hood.
“Adam. Is he doing okay? He isn’t hurt, is he?” Surely enough, it’s the face of Anna Chen. This circle seems to get bigger and bigger as I investigate it. “He’s doing okay,” I respond. “Right now, he’s sleeping.” She sighs in relief, clearly thankful to hear the news.
“Anna always likes to say bad things about him, but she forgets I understand her brain. Deep inside, she misses him a little. I just wish she wasn’t such a bull-headed idiot. Always gets us into these crazy jobs, including this fiasco with this chip we have to deal with now.”
Interesting. It seems like the C.U.B.E. downloads a consciousness that is both self-aware and dutiful in protecting the host. One could compare it to the cricket for Pinnochio, that being a point of extra voice. “Why do you protect her? Why do you care about her?” I ask out of curiosity.
“Why protect Anna?” he laughs. “That’s a good question. But, I suppose, I could ask why do you look for the truth? Others may find it to be completely irrational, but it just fits right with me.” I puff my cigarette. “Sounds like programming to me,” I say.
“You know, for me being the A.I., you seem to be more like a heartless robot,” Anna’s consciousness says. “One of the first things you do is shoot me just to see if I match the description of some old blueprint. If Anna was a normal girl, she’d be dead.” Cold words, but also correct words. I take another puff.
“What else do you know about the assassination? Anything I could follow as a lead?” I ask. Anna shrugs and just hands me the chip again. “Sorry to say, Searcher, but this is it. All I have is a chip and a cybernetic body.” Hopelessness in a conscious. Artificial intelligence is an interesting thing.
I take the chip and scan it with my eye. “This is some high-level technology,” I tell him. “I don’t have the facilities for this, but there are groups I could contact.” Her eyes light up with a semblance of hope. “Well? Who are they?”
I’m a little disappointed to say this, but it’s all I have. “The Union of American Patriots. They still have some American scientists, as well as the money to afford the technology.” I watch Anna’s eyes blink. “I know I’m just a stupid A.I., but from what I’ve heard, the UAP is highly responsible for hate crimes against Asian-Americans as well as terrorist attacks in the Golden Quadrant.”
I store the chip into my arm. “That’s a reasonable observation, but I’ve done my own investigating. From what I’ve found, they’re just another mess that fights against power.” I take a puff from my cigarette. “The Russian Revolution. The French Revolution. Even the Chinese Revolution. All of them have an anti-establishment group that was plagued with conflicting interests. The UAP is no different.”
I take one more hit from the cigarette before I extinguish its remains into my arm. “There’s the left wing of the UAP that wants a totally socialist nation that rewrites the constitution in a modern and progressive image. On the right wing of the UAP, you have conservative and radicals who just want to create a naturalist system, kind of like the American Party in the 1800s. They’re the ones who do the hate crimes, as you prescribed.”
“What about the middle?” Anna asks, “is there any hope?” For being an artificial intelligence, they have a lot of optimism. “No. They’re just a beef patty being squeezed between the loaves of bread.” Anna sighs, but she seems to be resigned. “Well, if it keeps Anna safe, then do whatever you need to do.”
They put their hood back up, ready to venture out. “Hey,” I ask, “are you ever going to give Anna her body back?” They turn to me and nod. “I just want the girl to be safe. As soon as I can, I’ll let her run her life, even if it’s right into the gutter.” They jump out and disappear into the night. A most fruitful appointment.
I get into my car and light myself a new cigarette. Anna Chen, who happens to be Adam Chen’s sister, also turns out to be the one who took the C.U.B.E. What a profound revelation. I take a puff, filling the car with the smoke upon one mere exhale. I wonder what more I could gain by asking Adam a few questions, assuming he doesn’t deflect or avoid them.
I put in the keys to start the engine. But instead of hearing the start of the car, I hear the thump of metal. Looking up, I see a large hulking cyborg with arms composed of cybernetic enhancements. Without a doubt, this is it. This is the man who killed Wan Sui.
I jump out of the car door just as his fist breaks the glass instantly. I equip my pistol and start to shoot for any vital spot: heart, eyes, and pelvis. But none of the bullets of the bullets hit, as he blocks or dodges around each one. This isn’t just a cyborg reliant on metal and electricity. This is a cyborg reliant on skill and prowess.
They charge at me with a barrage of strikes. I have to toss my gun to my left hand as my right metal arm has to block as many as it can. With my left, I continue to shoot, like how a medieval soldier uses a shield and spear. But still, my bullets are easily dispatched as this paragon of a warrior continues to impose against me.
Suddenly, they launch a terrifyingly fast kick to my leg and sweep me to the ground. In less than a split second, I see it right in front of me: death. This man is going to slam his fist into my face and blow my head up like a watermelon. He’ll take my cybernetics, the chip, and head back to Wan Sui a wealthy man. I’ll just be another dead girl. The sad thing about it all is that I could care less.
But I don’t die. Instead, a bullet stabs right into the cyborg’s back. It hits well and true, being enough to stun his mechanisms for a second. I jump back and bring my pistol back to my right arm. With a good shot, I fire it into his eyes and heart. One shot. Two shots. And now three.
But before the last shot can make it, he recovers and deflects it. Instead of pressing on, he retreats. Just as quickly as he appeared, he’s gone. The adrenaline in my body fades as I breath to return stability. I look up to see the one who shot that lucky bullet.
It’s the same sniper who helped me when I was escaping my apartment. They retreat back into the night just as I detect them. Perhaps some people prefer fighting in the shadows. I will have to repay my debt someday in the future.
Speaking of debts, I look at the car. It’s been totaled. I’m going to need a very strong apology letter to Alia. Next, I will need a very strong excusal for Adam. But for now, I shouldn’t waste time. I start my walk home, knowing that another step in this town could be my last. But, in the end, I could care less.