I came too with a pounding headache. My left eye would not open, and I was held arm and arm with an armored officer to my right and left. My feet dragged on the ground behind me, and I hung limp as the two officers effortlessly carried me down a well-lit hallway, passing security cells on both sides. We approached a cell on the left that hummed with a crackling electric sound.

The officer on the same side pounded the wall as we approached shouting, “Back away from the fence, and stand there with your hands against the back wall!”

It wasn’t much longer before the same officer punched a code into a panel along the side and the opening into the cell stopped humming. After pulling me a few inches into the cell, the two officers dropped me unceremoniously to the ground. They backed out and punched in a follow up code that caused the opening to begin humming again. They gave no further words or inspections and left the way we had come.

Fortunately for me, the cells in prison are padded with a neat rubbery foam that absorbs impacts. Helps to reduce the risk for suicide attempts by mentally unstable folks in the cells. I was familiar with the environment. The cell opening, “The Fence”, functioned like a highly potent taser. Painful, quick, and in the case of augments, nullifying. The shock typically renders the person unconscious that attempts to cross it. If they make it through, they are typically not in a condition to put up much resistance afterwards.

There were two other men in the cell with me, one in a suit and one wearing loose fitting scraps of clothing akin to the “Tatters” gang that frequented the underrails and certain run-down parts of the rails in district 14. The gang was migratory and generally harmless as far as violence was concerned. Encounters with them would end in loss of clothing, property, and rarely significant bodily harm. Where every citizen received financial, medical, and social support via government sanctioned programs, the gang’s members consisted of people that willfully neglected to partake in those benefits. They looked and acted like hobos and generally menaced areas with a lite Order presence, at least they do until the Order moves in.

Both men had dutifully held their positions until the officers had made their exit down the hall. The suit sat down on the bench against the back wall. I just lay on the ground as I had fallen, staring at the bench in front of me as I lay on my right cheek. I did not feel like I was going to be able to move.

“Da’yum! They roughed the ‘ell out of ya man.” A nasally voice exclaimed from behind me.

The man moved around into view and squatted a foot away to get a better look. He had a tattoo that read “Donna” under his left eye.

“What the hell did you do man?”

“Killed a few people.” I moaned in reply.

The ganger reeked as if he hadn’t bathed in several days. He hopped a little closer and spoke with a smile that was missing a few teeth.

“Well, “Killer”, if’n ya, for any reason, decide to take the long nap. I call dibs on ya boots.” He turned and gave a big-eyed accusing stare as he pointed aggressively toward the man in the suit, “Dibs! These boots are mine!”

The suit did not say anything. The ganger pressed his lips together firmly and gave another accusing point of his finger to him, before turning back to look at me with another toothy smile. He rubbed his thumb and finger to his chin.

“Maybe… wait. Ya shirt… I get ya shirt too, no… no, no, no, they’d never let me leave with that.”

I rolled my good eye, and moaned, “Donna… I am keeping all my cloths.”

He looked confused and grew agitated.

“My name’s… What makes ya think my name’s Donna?!”

I closed my eye and sighed. He was going to beat on me if he wanted to, there was nothing I could really do about it. Reserved to my fate, I opened my eye.

“That tattoo under your eye.”

He looked surprised and paused for a moment to reflect. He then erupted into wide mouthed and loud laughter, as he slapped his thigh. He dropped to all fours as he leaned in close to me and slapped me firmly on the back, to which I moaned. It wasn’t excessively painful; I was just sore as hell. His breath was an assault on my senses that made the encounter less pleasant.

He returned to his squatting position and shouted, giving a presenting gesture from me to the suit, “Killer here’s a damn comedian Man!” He laughed some more, and wiped his eyes with a dirty finger like he was removing tears, “Talkin bout a shitten tattoo.”

He pointed to his eye, “I ain’t got a tattoo up ‘ere man!”

“Right… no tattoo. Look, do you mind? I have a headache and would really appreciate it if you didn’t talk for a few hours.

He smiled and pinched the left side of his mouth. Pulling his finger and thumb from left to right, he closed his mouth firmly pressing his lips together and hopped up and took a seat on the bench against the left wall, eyeing me with a smile and a look of anticipation. I lazily looked back waiting for several minutes and my body refused to make me feel tired enough to fall asleep. I grumbled to myself lazily rolled over and sat up. I felt every movement as if it were the first time moving in a long time.

Suffice to say, it was remarkably uncomfortable.

“Ya disappoint me friend!” The tatter chided.

As I turned myself and made a valiant attempt to stand and move to the only bench left in the cell, I pointed at him and said, “Not your friend…”

He spread his hands and complained.

“Don be like that! We all friends in ‘ere.”

I rubbed my temples and sighed. The left side of my face was crusted with dried blood.

“Doen worry Killer, you’ll come around. We gots lots of time in ‘ere.” The tatter assured me.

It sure felt like it.

I generally ignored what the guy was rambling about for the better part of what I assume to be an hour. It felt like it was closer to a week, and he eventually gave up trying to talk to me and took to mumbling jokes and songs to himself. I didn’t ask questions. I had no interest in getting to know either of the men I was sharing the cell with. I had shut my eyes a few times and practiced controlled breathing techniques to try and alleviate my headache.

After what seemed to be an eternity, a pair of officers finally made a stop by our cell and demanding everyone take position against the back wall. While my head had not stopped aching, I felt far more mobile and did so without delay or complaint.

The familiar voice of officer Grodin spoke, “Detective Kenter, please exit the cell.”

I put my hands together and gave thanks to whoever was listening. I gave a smile, “Roland! Oh man is it good to see you. Big misunderstanding!”

“If you want a few more hours, I can arrange it.” Roland returned the smile and motioned for me to hurry.

I raised my hands submissively as I exited.

“No, no… I am good.”

“Da’yum!” The tatter exclaimed. “Detectives got frien’s in high places!”

Roland pointed aggressively, “Shut it Whitland! And turn back around facing the wall!”

Whitland did so, giggling to himself. Roland punched in a code to reactivate the fence and it buzzed back to life. He pointed down the hall in a beckoning gesture to walk with him.

We walked down the hall past the cells.

“Considering you didn’t cuff me, am I free to go? Where’s Baxter?”

Roland shook his head.

“Not yet you aren’t. You look like shit Donovan.”

“Baxter, Roland. Where is Baxter?” I insisted.

He frowned and stoically directed his attention away from me and down the hall.

“Far as I know he was transported to the Kennels.” He spoke solemnly.

“That son of a bitch!” I damn near exploded as I shouted loud enough to get everyone’s attention in the cells and the halls.

“Hey! Kenter calm down!” Roland gave me an angry glare.

I didn’t, but I stopped shouting and just spoke loudly.

“Backston has no right to send Baxter to the Kennels over a misunderstanding! I’m not going to calm down. That son of a bitch is trying to get my dog euthanized!”

“Listen! You owe Tiara big time for the magic she pulled today. I am sure she took care of it.” Roland insisted through his teeth.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

We passed through a security checkpoint.

“Is she here? I want to see her right now.”

Roland led me to and up a flight of stairs that opened into a large office space, “Look you are not free to go yet. Calm down. She told me to get you out of the cell and bring you to her.”

My headache wasn’t abating, so I took a few breaths and calmed myself.

“I’m sure your dog is fine.” Roland did his best to console me.

“He better be. Or you are going to need to prepare a cell for me when I get my hands on Backston.” I replied through a grumble.

He gave me a serious look as we navigated through the sparsely populated cubicles and isles.

“Watch it… You are in the damn precinct Don.”

I frowned and pressed my lips tightly together giving him a dismissive hand gesture. As we approached a set of offices, Roland guided me around one of them to a back room that was called, “The Quiet Room”. Interrogations were conducted there. Good cop, bad cop, even torture when necessary. I always chided Tiara regarding the proximity of the room to the office space. Always wondered if people in the office could hear what was going on inside, and she assured me they could not.

For all intents and purposes, you could not get a more private space with exception to all the monitoring tech that saturated the walls and ceiling of the room. Roland spoke as we walked.

“Listen Don, I was just told to bring you here. I don’t know what is going on. When you are done, I will take you to the infirmary to get you patched up before returning to the cell.”

“You’re a peach…” I gave him a one eyed, hundred-mile stare.

He patted me on the shoulder and opened the door. I stepped inside, and the door closed behind me. In the center of the room was a metal table. Seated in a chair toward the back wall side of the table was Backston. He had a smug, disapproving grimace on his face, and supported himself on his elbows with his hands steepled. Opposite him sat Tiara, leaned back eyes closed, and arms crossed.

Both immediately looked up at me when I entered, and I returned scowl back at Backston. Tiara put her fingers to her temples and gestured for me to take a seat in the remaining chair at the left side of the table. I approached and Backston kept a murderous glare on me the entire time.

I slammed my fists on the table hard.

“I want my dog back Tim!”

He pointed accusingly at me.

“Your dog attacked us!”

“Enough!” Tiara shouted. “Damn it, I am swimming in machismo from this shitting contest between the both of you! Don, sit… Now!”

“Is Baxter alright?”

Tiara glared at me, “He’s fine, and he is on his way back here now. Sit…”

I pulled up the chair and sat down, leaning back as I pulled my right leg over my knee, and used the armrests for support. We didn’t say anything for a few moments, and Tiara leaned back in her chair.

Tiara frankly spoke, her face contorting with obvious concern.

“Fate’s alive, what happened to you Don?”

I gave her a level glare nodding toward Timothy, “Do I have to speak with this Dick in the room?”

He was a fraction of a second from erupting out of his chair before Tiara exploded, “Sit your ass down, right now Timothy!” She spoke under her breath, “So help me…”

She kept an eye on Baxton, while addressing me.

“You are here to share your side of things Don. Now stop prodding him and answer the damn question!”

I took a moment to collect my thoughts and figure out a good way to describe my experiences for the day without giving too much information.

“Look it has been a long day. I have fallen from a train, got beaten up… several times. As you may have heard over the line, I was shot at for the better part of fifteen to twenty minutes? I was blown up, and Tim shot me to close out the experience.”

Timothy rolled his eyes, “Bullshit that you were on that train. No one survived Green B. Anyone that may have, was shot or devoured by wild dogs in the Sub-Rails.”

“You sure about that Timmy?” I shot back.

He grit his teeth. Tiara spoke under her breath as she put her fingers back to her temples again, “Oh for the love of…”

I continued addressing Tiara, as I hooked a thumb over at Backston.

“Tiny Tim here must have been there, so why am I here?”

“I will put you back in the damn cell Don!” Tiara shouted. She pressed her lips together in obvious frustration, shaking her head in her best effort to maintain her composure.

She looked very tired.

“You were picked up several kilometers from where the train fell. If there were survivors as you claim, then why were you not with them? Why did you not stay put and call for help?” Timothy spoke with a calm demeanor.

I gave him a hard stare, focusing hard to maintain it as I reflected on events. I hoped that Temple didn’t leave a stash of bodies in Tiberus’ hideout. I was not sure how to relay the story without including Temple, Tiberus, and the Beacon in my back, at least not with Backston present. The less he knew about my personal affairs the better off I felt I would be.

I shook my head in and gave a submissive gesture as I leaned back.

“We were taken hostage by an organized pack of Dogmen. I believe it was the same group that launched the attack on the train. They “liberated” Baxter, and felt it was important to at least keep some of the survivors alive.”

Tiara gave Timothy a shrug and an understanding look, “Sounds like one of Tiberus’ packs.”

“Too convenient…” Backston shook his head.

He pointed at me with an accusing finger.

“That doesn’t explain why Baxter had no leash or collar, or where you secured your illegal fire power.”

I rolled my eye and gave an exaggerated moaning sigh. Tiara interrupted me before I could speak, chastising Timothy, “Are you serious? He just said that the dogmen liberated Baxter, do you honestly think they would keep him on leash?”

I added, “I would have explained myself, had this jackass not shot me as soon as he recognized me.”

Timothy almost shouted, “You defied a direct order to…”

Tiara interrupted him with a shout, “We saw the footage already Tim, which brings me to why I called Don in here.”

She gave me a tired look.

“Don… You are free to go, per mismanagement of an arrest. You have a case; I must ask if you are going to press charges against the offending officer.”

“You built a case against me?” Timothy gave her a betrayed look.

“Your damn right I am going to press charges!”

“What the hell Tiara?!” Timothy complained.

“You built the case against yourself Tim!” Tiara lectured. “Had you not been so damn aggressive in your pursuit of the grievances between you two, none of this would have happened. They obviously collected those weapons during their efforts to protect themselves from their assailants. You all but scrambled to nail him with every single charge you could think of. Not only did you violate operational procedures, but you violated several codes of conduct regarding civil arrests, and you cannot say Don was not being civil with you when you shot him.”

She pointed at me while continuing to ream him.

“Look at him Tim! Look! It is a standard procedure to provide medical attention to an arrested individual that needs it. No services were rendered, not even when your team brought him into this precinct. You helped the gangers that survived, but no services were rendered to Donovan or his dog. All of those involved in this are going to be disciplined!”

“You bitch?! Are you going to give him a “happy ending” after this?!” Timothy’s face flushed red.

Tiara’s temper flared.

“You are the one that made this personal Timothy, and I hope that the Order renders you a blind quadriplegic. If you still have your badge when the court martial is through, I am going to have you and all your cronies re-assigned to a different district.”

She pointed to the door.

“Get the fuck out of here!”

He stood up and threw the chair hard enough that it shattered into metal splinters and parts against the right wall. Tiara maintained a firm glare at him, and I gave him a hard unintimidated look as he walked by me to leave.

Don’t get me wrong, he scared me. I was terrified. He could easily crush me as a fully augmented cyber, and there would have been nothing I or Tiara could do to stop it.

He slammed the door hard enough that I thought it was going to break inwards. It didn’t. I was impressed; they built those things tough.

Tiara leaned back in her chair with a sigh and pulled a small pen sized rod from a pocket at her left thigh. She raised it up and clicked the top, before putting it back in her pocket.

“You are going to be the reason I take an early retirement Don…”

I looked at her angrily and stood up from my chair.

“Look, I am not in the wrong here. I have every reason to be angry. That bastard was going to euthanize Baxter.”

She put her hands to her face and rubbed her eyes.

“I know… I know.”

I put my elbows on the table and rubbed my hands together nervously.

“Look… I’m sorry.”

She, without warning, stood up from her chair and gave me a hug. He shook like she was trying to control herself, and after a moment of surprise over the situation, I closed my arms around her in return.

“I know you don’t like seeing people get emotional…” she said weakly. “It’s been a really long day…”

The fluctuation in her voice struck a chord that made my chest tighten up. I hate that, because it is relatively difficult to maintain a stoic demeanor when you know you took part in hurting someone you care about.

Tiara never exposed her vulnerability to other people as far as I was aware. Like me, we were tough, and we enjoyed being that way. It was hard to see her break down like that, and I assumed that is why she closed the distance as fast as she did so I wouldn’t be able to actually see her.

“I wish I didn’t have to call you. I couldn’t think of any other options.” I spoke quietly.

“I thought I lost you.” She whispered. “It sounded like an explosion and the call disconnected.”

She shook a bit, struggling to contain herself. I squeezed tight.

“It was.”

A few moments passed as she collected herself. I held her close and let her get it out of her system.

I felt enough time had passed, and I really wanted to be done with the uncomfortable feelings, “Did you have to send Backston?”

“Ok… That’s it…” Tiara grumbled. “I am taking you back to your cell.”

I released her, and she gave me a flat glare, not even wiping the tear stains off her cheeks.

“Hey, whoa, whoa! You just released me. I am a free man; what are the charges?!” I protested.

She pushed me back into my seat roughly and scowled, wiping her cheeks with her non-cybernetic hand.

“Emotional abuse of an officer through… umm… neglectful… eh… jocularity.”

“There is no such thing on the books!” I complained.

She shook her head.

“I am going home and going to bed. Good night, Don. You can wait in the lobby for Baxter to get here. Go clean up and get checked up in the infirmary. You look like you need a hospital…”

That got me focused back on what should be my most pressing objective of the day. Given I had no idea how much time had passed, I hoped that I still had time enough to find Dr. Holste. As Tiara approached the door, I scrambled out of my chair.

“Wait! Wait Tiara!”

She stopped as she reached for the handle.

“Don… I am tired, I am emotional, and I would rather not be in the office right now, working without pay by the way.”

I insisted as I put myself in between her and the door.

“Backston was right… there is more… A lot more to what is going on, and it has to do with my Case 32. Please, you need to hear me out, and I really need help on this one.”

Her face sunk into a flat, borderline angry expression. I took a deep breath, and explained to her what had happened since I left the crime scene, as I connected the dots to what was going on. Tiara’s jaw dropped a bit as I explained my situation.

“I need to find Dr. Holste. Tiara, I need to get more information from him regarding why he installed this beacon in my back.”

Her face was in a state of exhausted shock. I gave her a moment to digest everything.

“You understand?”

She shook her head slowly side to side.

“You are under arrest…”

I rolled my eye, “I know right?” Then it registered what she said, “Wait, what?!”

“Are you insane?!” She shouted. “Why would you withhold that sort of information from me back at the crime scene? What the hell are you doing associating yourself with the damn Sanctuary, let alone a syndicate of any flavor?!”

I raised my hands in protest.

“Tiara you are missing the point…”

“The point? The point?! Kenter, you are in bed with Temple of all people, you just spent ten minutes admitting it to me?”

I gave her a confused look.

“In bed with? Oh, for crying out loud, no! No, no! How the hell would you draw that conclusion off what I just said?!”

She jabbed her cybernetic finger into my chest.

“Do you seriously expect me to believe that a man like Temple just “happened” to find you in Tiberus’ care and did you a solid by finding your “beacon”, and just “happened” to release you out into the chasm to find a doctor that is under his employ in the Mantle of all places?!”

I closed my eye and made a grimace at how ridiculous she made the whole thing sound.

“Well… Yeah.” I admitted with a shrug.

She scowled.

“Don’t make me hurt you Don… Turn around.”