If I had a few words to describe Evania Searcher, they would be observant, competent, but obsessed to all hell. She thinks of nothing but her goal: finding out the truth. Sitting in a room with her and Alia, Searcher lights a cigarette with her metal arm. “So Alia,” she starts, “can you start with the details you know about the certain employee?”
“Sure!” Alia replies. To my surprise, she’s more than willing to cooperate. I was thinking that she would present at least a little bit of resistance, since we’re looking for information on one of her mercenaries, but it’s clear that she has no obligation or need to protect the suspect’s identity.
“So,” she starts, “she’s this girl who likes to wear hoodies and fight with a sword. I did hear that she was some kind of freaky machine girl who could control her body into pixels or something, but I didn’t really pry. I’m just a girl who hands out contracts, and she was just a girl who could get the job done.”
“Does she have a name?” Searcher asks. Alia shakes her head. “Contractors, like me, don’t ask for names. We just ask for willing volunteers. This girl you’re talking about probably goes to different contractors, like how most mercenaries do it.”
I scoff at that answer, knowing how correct it is. I’m a bit calmed down from earlier, and it’s obvious that Alia is just a “man in the middle.” And the more I learn about this girl, the less I’m convinced she’s a real suspect. “What would she be doing at the Wan Sui Tower?” I suddenly ask.
Alia shrugs. “Wan Sui was in that day, so maybe she was the one who killed him. But, at the same time, there are a multitude of reasons why people try raiding that place. They have plenty of technology, weapons, money, and really anything you can name. Could’ve just been wrong place at the wrong time.”
I nod, wincing since I know we’re still at square one. “What about the cyborg?” I ask. “The one with a body made of metal limbs.” She shrugs again. “Sounds like a Wan Sui side project. They have plenty of those. I wouldn’t be surprised if they hid a giant nuke under the city for fun.” I agree with her. After all, Wan Sui was the company that won the Sino-American War. They apparently got the codes to every American warhead and held the country hostage. The main reason why they call it “The Bloodless War.” Even then, Wan Sui was a titan of a company.
“I guess we’re stuck then,” I sigh. In all honesty, I’m starting to accept my situation. Even in my time as a military officer, I knew very well that a suspect was still a suspect, even if they say otherwise. For me, there’s overwhelming evidence that I was the one who killed Wan Sui, since the cyborg sounds more like a work of imagination than proof. “A perfect crime with a perfect scapegoat,” I think out loud, “couldn’t get any better than this.”
Searcher takes a hit from her cigarette, blowing the smoke out without any regard. “Not quite,” she says. “The girl might not be involved with the assassination, but learning about why she was there would be important. We could try to talk to other big contractors and find what they know about her.” She stands up, as if not even needing a decision to be made. After all, it’s clear that she made one for herself.
“Wait up!” I say to her. Before she leaves, Alia tosses her a pair of keys. “Oh, and I’m working on getting you a new hideout. Have fun!” I can’t help but think about how dedicated Alia is to helping Searcher. From the rescue at Searcher’s apartment to her continued support now, I haven’t seen a single ounce of distaste from Alia’s words or behavior.
We get into the car and I sit myself in the passenger seat. “Why does Alia act so warmly towards you?” I ask. For a second, I expect silence, but then I remember it’s Searcher: she loves to tell the truth. “Alia was married. Not for very long though,” she started.
She continued to speak as she drove through the crowded street. “Her husband was a decent gentleman. Brown hair. Green eyes. Johnathan Park, I believe his name was. His end was much more tragic.” She stopped at the red light. “Since he was Korean-American, he got mistaken for a Chinese national. A couple of KKK members shot him in the street. He was taken to the hospital, and they couldn’t even put his head back in one piece. Alia had to hug a corpse with a bag where his skull was supposed to be.”
I find myself gripping my gun in anger. That mere idea of injustice already pisses me off. I calm myself down as she finishes her story. “I found each and every subject to the case. After I uploaded it to the cloud, she contacted me. She wanted me to help her take them down and in return, she would help me for any future case.”
She started to drive, the engine sounding like the roar of a horse. “We found the location of the Klan members. It was in an apartment complex, and it was filled to the brim with KKK. So Alia and I did it the best we could: one room and one floor at a time.” Searcher flared her metal arm as her bionic eye continued to whir. “Nobody was left when we were done.”
I chuckle a little. “You should become a cop. We could use people like you.” She shakes her head as she continues to drive. “The military police only have ‘garrisons’ of local police. They’re corrupt, inefficient, and end up shooting more than saving. Besides,” she adds, “I’m here to find the truth. I could care less if justice is achieved.”
Finally, Searcher stops the car. Looking out the window, I see a building adorned with flashing lights. “We’re here,” she says. We get out of the car and step onto the concrete. I keep my pistol secured in my jacket and she lights herself a new cigarette. I might need a new pair of lungs from just being around her. With the opening of the doors, we head inside.
It’s a pure abundance of vice. I could provide an endless list: sex, drugs, alcohol, blood, and pure adrenaline. The lights flash with a red akin to an apple from Eden as the air is filled with loud music, sexual groans, and carnal laughter. It makes me sick, but it seems to have no effect on Searcher.
The good news is that the action is segregated to rooms that patter along the hallway. The bad news is that there are windows for people to look inside. “Ten dollars for ten minutes! Pay the fuck up!” I hear someone demand. This is a place that just symbolizes bestial lust. I want to get out of here as soon as I can.
Eventually, we make it to the end of the hallway where Searcher knocks on the door. On the other side, I can hear some more groans and even the sound of a whip followed by a whimper. “Down boy! Down!” It makes me genuinely sick. Searcher knocks one more time as she sighs. “Richard. Open up the door,” she demands. Finally, the door opens up.
I watch a literal man on all fours be leashed by a tall woman in leather. “Good evening,” the woman tells me with a wink. I scoff as Searcher and I walk inside. Here, we meet Richard. He’s a curly-haired man who’s reclined on a couch. He doesn’t seem to mind any of the sex happening around him.
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“Hey, what’s up Evania?” He’s in the middle of a video game, his hands using the controller like a complete surgeon. I look for a seat to sit in, but he just snaps his fingers. “Wouldn’t sit there if I were you. Unless you like sitting on sticky things.” I immediately jump away and stand to my feet. I was an idiot for even hoping I could be comfortable here.
Searcher speaks first. “There is a girl who works for you.” He laughs a little. “There are plenty of girls and guys who work for me. Are you looking for one that’s good with her hands?” Searcher shakes her head. “I’m talking about mercenary contracts. Here is a photo.” She hands him the picture and he nods.
“Sure I’ve seen her. She comes around sometimes, and even uses some of our services. Didn’t seem very satisfied.” Searcher continues with her investigation. “Did you get a name from her?” Richard shakes his head again. “No, but if you want some of the information I do have, I’d have to ask something from you.”
A bad feeling crawls down my spine like a venomous spider. I reach my hand for Searcher. “We should go. I don’t think he has much more to offer us.” But she just shakes my hand away from her. “What do you propose?” I see a smile spawn on Richard’s face as he shuts off his game. He turns to her and grins. “I want you to have sex with me.”
“Searcher! Let’s go!” I tell her. But she has no intention in backing down. Once again, she’s made her own decision. “What information am I gaining through this exchange?” she asks. Richard continues to smile as he stands up. He’s a skinny kid who’s somehow made an empire on vice. “I can get you some footage of her using one of our rooms.”
She takes off her trench coat. “Hey!” I yell, “are you really fucking considering this?” Searcher says nothing to me as she prepares to fully strip. “No, fuck this!” I finally say. I unholster my pistol and aim it right at Richard. Still smiling, he slowly puts his hands into the air. “You sure are a superhero,” he says. He reaches to his belt and unbuckles it. To my surprise, there’s nothing there. “I’m a goddamned eunuch,” he laughs, “I was just trying to see how badly she really wanted to see the information.”
“You son of a bitch!” I strike him in the face, but he’s still laughing. At the very least, Searcher’s putting her trench coat back on, her blank face still monotone as ever. Richard tosses her a chip and Searcher catches it. “Here. And just some personal advice, don’t let some righteous idiot follow you around.” Searcher leaves and I have to run to catch up to her.
“Hey! What the hell was that?” I ask her. “Were you really gonna let him do that to you?” She doesn’t even look at me as she answers. “I told you already. My only purpose is to find the truth.” She continues to pace off as I have to walk faster to catch up. “Are you a robot? What kind of person almost lets someone exploit them for something as trivial as that?”
Her eye darts to stare at me. “This person does.” We get back into the car and I’m still thinking about what had just happened. “Why are you so fixated on the truth? Is there nothing else to life than just looking around for it? Is justice foolish? Is life itself foolish?” She starts the car and starts the drive.
“When I was five years old, I was diagnosed with psychopathy. I had been capturing bugs and dissecting them. I put their organs and body parts on paper and labeled them. I was told I was either going to be a brilliant doctor or a serial killer. I was also told that I was an inhuman monster. So maybe you are right in saying that I am a robot.”
“I didn’t say you were,” I respond, “I was just trying to see why you would let yourself get exploited by this idiot in rich clothes.” She scoffs. “Your words were having the implication. Even right now, you do not understand me. When you heard stories of me, you had the impression that I was a crusader against injustice. That is incorrect. I look for the truth.”
That’s when I fully realized it. I remember being taught about people who couldn’t be bent from their irrational views, even if put to trial with evidence that proved otherwise. This was such an irrational person. Evania Searcher, for being an intelligent woman, you sure are bullheaded in your quest for the truth. I don’t think I can ever understand you.
The rest of the ride is silent, other than the ambiance of the world around us. The continued hum of traffic. The frantic motions of advertisements and billboards. The occasional siren of a crime gone wrong. Well, more bluntly, I guess it’s the sound of America. “I’m kind of hungry,” I suddenly say, “can we get some food?” She nods.
I will say, the food diversity outside of the Golden Quadrant is definitely better. In the Quadrant, there’s just Chinese food. But here, there’s Mexican food, Indian food, American food, and then Chinese food. Maybe it’s because that’s how the population is as well. A diverse population unforgotten from the time when this place was known as the United States.
We go to a drive-thru, the kind that has a giant burger sign and a packed line of hungry people going through. With the setting sun providing an orange hue, I can’t help but feel nice in my situation. Sure the world could end tomorrow, but things are going alright at least right now.
“Welcome to Munch’s, how can I help you today?” the intercom calls. Before I can open my mouth, Searcher orders for the both of us. “Give us the Munch Combo.” She doesn’t even let me order. “Will that be all?” the employee asks.
“Yes.” Wow. I can’t even order for myself when I’m with Searcher. I guess that says a multitude of things about her character. We pick up our food and she tosses the bag to me. “It’s a good deal,” she says. “A whole meal for just five Yuans. Eat it right now so you can have the energy for later.”
“We can eat later,” I say, “besides, wouldn’t that dirty the car?” Then she says something else. “It doesn’t really matter. Besides, it’s technically not my car.” Brutal woman. I open the bag and start eating the burger. I know it’s a heap of processed meat, but it still tastes pretty good. “Do you want some fries?” I ask Searcher. She shakes her head. “I’m not hungry.”
“It’s important to eat,” I insist. I get a fry and nudge it to her lips. Though reluctant, she finally takes it as she bites onto it. With a little bit of chewing, she swallows it. I can almost see some of the color return to her pale cheeks. “I don’t mean to be rude, but do you eat regularly?” I ask her.
“No.” Jesus. Well, not to be rude, but that explains a lot. Consistent smoking? Lack of empathy? Disregard for others? Inability to eat properly? This woman is a complete mess of issues, in my humble opinion. I know everyone has their whole bag of problems, but Searcher is just another breed. That’s all without mentioning her unwavering devotion to “finding the truth.” In another world, she’d be in a madhouse.
I finish my burger within moments. Now that I think about it, I hadn’t eaten in a long time. That meal was more than necessary in keeping me alive. “What’s the plan now?” I ask. She blinks as she continues to drive. “We review the data and then we learn more about her. This girl is the only real tie we can reach right now, though I’m sure we could pick something from Wan Sui officials. As powerful as the company is, you’d be surprised how many backroom conspiracies there are.”
“Sounds good,” I respond. I clean my hands with the napkins in the bag. It still unnerves me how soothing a good burger can be on a radiant evening. No wonder fast food survived even as the Chinese built more of their restaurants. “As much of a mess you are,” I say out loud, “you’re still a smart and hard-working person. I can’t help but admire that.”
She doesn’t say anything. Of course, that’s classic Searcher for you. “You’ve asked me why I commit myself to finding the truth,” she says. “Why do you commit yourself to being an officer of the law?” I laugh a little. “Simple question,” I say to her, “I just like doing what’s right. Even if I accidentally make the wrong decision, I think I can die happy knowing I did my best.”
“So you dedicate your life to justice?” she asks. I shrug. “Yeah, I guess so. Without people to actually enforce good rules, everyone would be at each other’s throats. Not to say that every rule is a good one, but I think that someone’s gotta step up.” She smiles a little, for the first time in a while. “Interesting. In a Freudian standpoint, you would mirror the superego.”
“You’re so weird,” I chuckle. “What would you be then?” She gives the obvious one. “The ego.” Ha, pure and simple. The part of the mind that dedicates itself to cold logic. With the day dimming and with good food in my stomach, we continue to drive off. It’s another good day in the American Autonomous Zone.