From the floor, to the modern fireplace, to the sectional, to the fixtures on the bar—everything vibrated. The telltale signs of the latest and greatest in nanotech.

Tired of walking on hardwood all day? Not a problem. The nanotech could realign itself to give the impression of walking through a grassy meadow, as it was currently doing beneath his feet.

Harkin paused and glared awkwardly at Celia. After a moment, he approached and cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand.

“She’s awesome. What is it like working with her? Does she ever get—”

“Hey,” said Cutter. “I need you to tone down your perv by about a hundred percent.”

Harkin snapped his hand back as if it had been burned and chuckled.

“That’s a good one. No, that would never, I mean, no, I’m not like that at all. And there’s some sickos out there. Real sickos. I just, I can see how you’d think that from my reaction. But no. No. She’s just, just amazing right! So cool! I just—well, as you can see—I’m way into tech.”

“Uh huh. That’s what they all say.”

“Uh, no. I just really like the entrepreneurial spirit of mankind. I think AI is a reflection of our best intent.”

“Or our worst.”

“You’re—You’re not serious, right? How can you not find them amazing?”

“We’re here to ask you questions, not the other way around.”

“Oh. Oh! Right! Right. Right-right-right-right-right.”

Harkin gestured for them to follow. He walked down the half dozen steps into the sunken seating area and situated himself on a love seat. Cutter paused at the top of the stair. Harkin nodded toward the sectional across from him.

“Can I offer you a beverage? A snack? Something to eat?”

“We’re fine. If we could get to the—”

“I can have the house whip it up. It’s not a problem.”

“We’re fine.”

Harkin snapped a quick look over his shoulder, and shouted, “Stacy!”

“It’s really not an issue. If we could—”

“Stacy! We have guests!”

A white oblong orb with a crystalline lens set in its midsection hovered into the room. A ring of blue lights blinked on its side.

“How may I be of assistance, Jared?”

Cutter recognized the voice from the gate. Apparently, Stacy was not just Harkin’s security bot, but also his personal assistant, and quite possibly his entire housing staff as well.

“Get our guests anything they desire.”

“We’re fine,” said Cutter, his response set on autopilot.

“Can I offer you a beverage?” asked Stacy.

“We’re fine.”

“Perhaps, an hors d’oeuvr? We have a wide assortment of options from beluga caviar imported daily to fresh fruit and vegetable grown on location here at Villa de Harkin.

“We’re—”

“I would like to try the caviar,” said Celia.

Cutter glared at her.

Celia shrugged. “I have never tried it. I am curious.”

“You don’t eat.”

“I can still taste.”

“Excellent,” said Stacy. “One order of beluga caviar coming up.”

The orb floated into an adjacent room, presumably the kitchen to prepare the appetizer.

Cutter glared at Celia. Sometimes they could be so out of sync.

She dodged his stare and turned her attention to Harkin. “I saw you at Sanders and Ollander.”

“Yeah, you did!” said Harkin. “Man, what an entrance you two made, am I right?”

“Seemed normal to me,” grumbled Cutter.

Harkin slapped his knee. “The look on all their faces. Priceless.”

Cutter was not amused. From Harkin’s reaction, Cutter guessed his expression shouted that loud and clear.

“That is how he normally introduces himself,” said Celia.

“I can attest to that.” Stacy hovered in with a tray strapped to her side like something from a 1950s drive-thru. On the tray was a small sampling of beluga caviar, a few crackers, and several bottles of Perrier. “Detective Cutter has a way with words and a knack for ingratiating himself with new acquaintances.”

“I’ve been told I’m an acquired taste. Can we get down to business?”

Harkin cut himself off mid-smile, before he could vocalize anything. “Oh right. I’m sorry. It’s just—” He nodded towards Celia. “You know. All this. It’s just so cool. Anyway, sure, yeah, down to brass tacks. The biz. Let’s do this. What’s up? What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“For starters, what’s with all this?” Cutter gestured at Harkin’s attire. “The T-shirt and cargo shorts. The surfer dude routine. I barely recognized you.”

“You mean the lack of suit and tie?” Harkin guffawed. “I clean up nice, don’t I? I mean, look, I know I’m punching up in my weight class. I want to impress these guys. The suit and tie makes an impression. I’m all business during business hours, but man, you gotta be able to leave work at work, am I right?”

“You are asking the wrong person.”

“Oh my God, right? She lives with you, doesn’t she? That’s gotta be awesome!” He turned to Celia. “Is that awesome? Tell me that’s awesome.”

“It is—” Celia paused, her gaze going into that strange thousand yard stare she sometimes did when she was processing too much data. “—interesting.”

Cutter leaned forward, grabbing Harkin’s attention. “I couldn’t help but notice that you have a ton of tech on display. Right out in the open. You aren’t afraid of a break-in?”

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Harkin shook his head. “That could never happen.”

“Right, we don’t live in the time of the impossible or anything. I’m sure if anyone showed up you could punch ’em all out with your hands behind your back.”

“Man, you’re colorful,” chuckled Harkin. “But no, I doubt that. Not much of a fighter. Never been. Not my thing, ya know? But good news everybody! I don’t need to be.”

“And why’s that?”

“EMP pulse.”

“EMP,” Celia corrected.

Harkin looked cock-eyed at Celia. His upper lip curled, a comical, if not over exaggerated reaction. “That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”

Cutter shook his head. Most humans would feel mounting anxiety from cross examination. But synths, much like children, blindly stated the mistake with zero indication at the off-putting nature of their correction. And Celia, being both synthetic and a child, blankly stated, “The acronym is not Electro Magnetic Pulse pulse. It is just Electro Magnetic Pulse.”

“Oh, right. Right. Like ATM machine.”

“Grammar police aside,” said Cutter. “How would an EMP protect you?”

“The security system is rigged to let off an electromagnetic pulse should anyone tamper with anything. There’s also a manual activation, just in case I catch someone in the act. It would disable all their technological gizmos. Only way in is to do it old school, but then all the devices are tamperproof and would fry themselves the second they were moved. It’s foolproof.”

“You expecting trouble?”

“Nah. No way, man. I don’t want any trouble. Zero. Zilch. But ya know how it goes with the company store, am I right? They’re paranoid about everything. Besides, it’s mandatory. All S&O executives are required to have an EMP pulse, uh EMP, yeah just EMP, they’re all required to have an EMP installed in their home for protection. Company protocol.”

“Company watching your back?”

“Man, don’t I wish. That’s what they say, but, ya know, I’m no fool. It’s more about securing data. Company secrets and whatnot. Can’t have those falling into the wrong hands. High level execs, basically everyone you saw at the board meeting, gets to take work home. Helps with the workflow, but becomes a vulnerability. The EMP helps curtail espionage or theft.”

“Doesn’t setting an EMP off put your collection at risk?”

Harkin’s expression fell. “Well, yeah. But most of it is inoperable anyway. I mean, it could still be damaged. The EMP is really more of a deterrent than anything. Slap those giant EMP Securities stickers everywhere. Give any would-be burglars second thoughts, am I right?”

“For the first time, I think you might be.”

“Yeah. For sure.” Harkin nodded to himself. “Nah, it definitely isn’t good for my collection. Would fry the whole thing. I defs don’t want that. But what can ya do, ya know? We live in a world of compromise, am I right? The company store wants heavy duty security, the company store gets heavy duty security. Who am I to complain? I mean it is all state of the art, so that’s kinda cool. The data protection is so advanced it might as well be part of my collection.” Harkin pointed at a camera in the corner. “And it’s a part that I didn’t have to pay for. Gotta love that, am I right?”

“They do this for all S&O employees?”

“All the board members and several key department heads. Generally, anyone they allow to take work home with them.”

“What about ex-employees?”

“Ex—what do you mean? That’s a non-factor.”

“It seems to me ex-department heads would have a lot of knowledge about the inner workings of S&O. Access to their tech. Would they be extended the same security protocols?”

“I don’t know why they would. During their employment, sure. But not after the fact. I mean, no ex-employee is leaving with company secrets. S&O is pretty tight with their data. I mean, don’t think it’s just S&O. All tech corps are. Just goes with the business. When an employee leaves, there’s the whole final InSight farewell treatment, contractually obligated, of course. Once terminated, there’s no data to protect. None. Nada.”

“So you guys have policies in place to prevent disgruntled ex-employees from burying the hatchet in someone’s back, so to speak.”

“Well, technically, I can’t go into any explicit detail, but—” Harkin placed his finger to his nose.

“Right. Classified and confidential.”

“Company secrets, my man.”

“On the little detour in your entry, I noticed a mask.”

Harkin’s demeanor changed. He was more lively and animated, if that was even possible, as the conversation steered away from S&O business towards his obvious passion. Tech.

“The Equalizer,” he said. “It’s quite rare. Did you know that? Took me forever and a half to track one down. Been a fan since I was a kid. Kinda grotesque looking thing isn’t it?”

“That’s strange,” said Cutter. “I didn’t think it was that rare.”

Celia sat forward in her seat. Her mouth fell open. He had seen the same look moments prior when she corrected Harkin about the EMP.

Before Celia could question his motives over an obvious lie, Cutter shot her a look. Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head.

Celia scooched to the edge of her seat. She was going to do it. She was going to inquire anyway.

Slowly, she shifted her weight against white leather. And closed her mouth.

Harkin was too caught up in his revelry to notice the subtle exchange. “As far as vintage tech is concerned,” he said, “it’s about as rare as they come. Very limited run. Hard to come by as most in operation were destroyed in combat.”

“Weird, I feel like I’ve been seeing it everywhere these days.”

That shook Harkin.

“You’re—You’re pulling my leg, right? Oh man! You got me! Good one! No, they are like crazy super rare.”

“The assailant who attacked KCAL 9 wore an identical mask.”

All humor drained from Harkin’s face.

“You didn’t notice?”

Harkin shook his head. “Truth be told, I haven’t been paying much attention to the news. So, you think… All of a sudden, I don’t think I’m enjoying your company.” Harkin self-consciously laughed.

“Let’s say, hypothetically—”

“Hypothetically?” Harkin squirmed in the love seat. “Oh man, you’re good. You’re really good.”

“How would one attain a mask like that if it really is as rare as you say?”

“Short of stealing it?”

“You’re the one telling me your security is foolproof, so yeah, short of stealing it.”

“The few remaining Equalizers I could track down, and I scoured the globe, all belonged to their original owners. And they weren’t interested in parting with them for any amount of money. And trust me, I offered. Sentimentalists. I mean, I totally get it. I picked mine up from an estate sale six or seven years ago.”

“And the likelihood that another would be in Los Angeles?”

“I don’t think I like where this is going.”

“Yeah, well. If you didn’t carry out these attacks, who did?”

“Not me.”

“Let’s say you aren’t responsible—”

“I’m not.”

“Right. You’re a Sanders & Ollander Vice Prez, a sitting board member, that just so happens to have a one of a kind mask that a vandal has been wearing as he singles out and terrorizes S&O synthetics.”

“It’s not one of a kind.”

“Just extremely rare.”

Harkin’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Rare, yes.”

“We’re going to need to take it in as evidence.”

“Do you have a warrant?”

“Do I need one?”

“C’mon, man. Don’t paint me the bad guy. You already know the answer to that. Of course, I'm gonna make you get a warrant.”

Cutter shifted in his seat, weighing his options. Harkin wasn’t going to budge. He would fight all the way to a warrant. But he hadn’t asked them to leave. He was still here. Still talking.

“Mask aside, who has reason to attack S&O synthetics?”

“I don’t.”

“Way I see it,” said Cutter, “everyone on that board has cause. And from what I hear, no one wants to see the company turned over to synthetics.”

“You got that right. The old man is nuts.”

“Ollander?”

“The one and only.”

“Not sure I follow. He can barely stand upright. You think he physically decommissioned a handful synths, including a combat espionage bot in a matter of seconds?”

“I hadn’t heard about that. And no of course not. I’m not saying that. All I know is that he wants to hand the company over to synthetics.”

“That’s what we in the police biz would call the opposite of motive. Wanting to hand the company over to synthetics is the opposite of a reason to attack and dismember them. Gotta say,” said Cutter, “from your obsession with tech, I’m surprised you’re not of the same mind as Ollander.”

“Obsession? Ouch. Harsh, man. I love tech, synthetics, AI, automation, and all. Huge fan. But when it comes to industry, to economics, it’s a world built for humanity. It’s a game we play to pass the time.”

Harkin nodded at Celia who was busy trying to figure out how to dunk a round cracker into the caviar jar with an opening much too small.

“You, you’re like, amazing,” said Harkin. “And as fascinating as I find you, which is loads, tons even, I mean look at you, you are outside the cycle of economics. You don’t need to find your place in the job market. Or anything like that. You’re designed from the get-go to be a part of it. You have your role, your function, you know where you fit in. Heck, you’re built to fit in. Us, not so much. We have to eek our living out of nothing to justify our existence.”

“She wasn’t designed to be a police officer,” said Cutter. “But here we are.”

“I don’t know.” Harkin shrugged. “To me, what Ollander is proposing feels like cheating. But also, I just don’t get the point. I mean, if we’re handing off these tasks to automation, to synthetics, what are we going to do with the rest of our lives? I mean, I have my hobbies and all. Obviously, right? My converted ballroom museum, ya know? But without work, without the challenge, if it were all run by tech, I honestly don’t know what I would do with myself.”

Harkin leaned back in the love seat. His gaze went to the ceiling. He let out a deep exhalation, as if he had been holding his breath for the duration of Cutter’s visit. He deflated in his seat, as he took in the surroundings. Looking at it all. At his opulent mansion brimming with the most advanced tech money could buy.

“I’d probably be bored. Really, really, really stinking bored.”