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4.7

4.7

“A goddamn crazy circus is what it is!” boomed the middle-aged but already intensely balding police officer assigned to question me. His announcer-like voice straight out of a boxing ring was unexpected from his frail frame. He closed his eyes and shook his head with condemnation. “Would it hurt for these people to sit still in their fucking homes?”

I flinched when he shouted then looked up with an alarmed face, not because I was actually surprised, but because I was supposed to be a timid girl. Just an honest day’s work farming sympathy here. Nothing to see people, move along.

He wasn’t yelling at me.

I turned around to check what he was complaining about. He was watching the large TV at the lobby through the glass door of his office, the news showing the on-going protests at Marshall Avenue.

“I apologize, miss,” said Harold or Harley, some name starting with an ‘H’. He had introduced himself to me, but I didn’t care enough to remember his name. I also didn’t take note of his rank and title, although he obviously had a position in whatever department this was, and one of Johann’s superiors. “These people…” He shook his head again. “Just makes your blood boil, you get what I’m saying?”

“I…I think so.”

“Did I startle you?”

“Erm, yea…a bit,” I said with an embarrassed grin. I showed him a line on the questionnaire I intentionally messed up with some scribbles. “I’m sorry, I jumped when you yelled. Can I get a new one?”

“Don’t worry about a small thing like that.” He placed a correction tape in front of me. “Know how to use this? You kids still use these things?”

“Yes, sir. I do. Thank you.”

“Good, that’s good,” said Officer H-Something with an appreciative nod. “I thought you kids were all computers nowadays.” He went back to his tirade against the protesters. “They’re just making it worse. In times like these, everyone should calm the hell down.” He slammed his palm on the wooden table, causing me to really mess up my writing this time. He didn’t notice so I didn’t make a big deal out of it. He continued his spiel as if the people on TV could hear him.

I nodded every time he paused to shake his head while dutifully filling up the forms requiring various info about me.

“Look at that rabble,” he said, waving his hands. “You got a good head on your shoulders deciding to come here instead of going to HQ, miss; whole downtown’s utter nonsense. We’ll forward everything to them as per procedure anyway, ah, to the BID.”

Witnesses and other persons-of-interest related to the Adumbrae investigations—which I supposed included me, a resident of the condo-turned-hellhole—were advised to go to the LEPD main office for processing. Of course, I was going to come forward. Hiding would just make it worse. But I wasn’t going to their headquarters. Johann wasn’t working there, and that place was crawling with BID agents who had taken charge of the investigation on the two Adumbrae attacks.

This Hackett or Haden guy also mentioned it was super crowded at their head office, with all the leads being pursued and tons of people brought in for investigation and testing, and now this whole protest thing happening.

“Yes, sir,” I said. “Thank you so much for your help. It would’ve been bad if Deen and I, my friend, were stuck there. I have a class in about a couple of hours I can’t miss.” Deen had a class later, not me. I just told a teensy-weensy white lie so I would look the part of a harmless student, at the same time subtly hinting I had something important to do later to set a timer on this whole thing.

Some guys—scratch that, most guys—would be more helpful towards Deen than me. She had a huge advantage in most social situations involving men. Not so much with women because they’d view her as a threat. Basic biology…I think. I forgot all the science shit I learned in school; it had been a few years since I had a science class. And I only took those during undergrad because they were required units.

Officer H-Something’s case was different. Compared to the other colleagues of Johann who swarmed around Deen when he introduced her, he didn’t pay much attention to her.

I also noticed this Harvey or Hyrum had pictures of, presumably, his teen daughters, three of them, on his table—graduation pictures, vacation pictures, the usual dad stuff. Going for the helpless daughter vibe was clearly the way to go for me. I was four years, going five, past being a teen, but if those thirty-year-old actresses can play teenagers in cringey romance movies, then I could do it too. Didn’t hurt that I actually looked like a high-schooler.

Officer H-Something occasionally referring to me as a ‘kid’ meant I correctly read his personality and my adjusted face was working smoothly.

“We’ll just be quick here,” he said. “We don’t want you missing your classes. A missed class is money thrown to the winds, that’s what I always tell my girls. I’m saving for their college tuition. I imagine tuition fees at EFU are not cheap in the slightest.”

“Yes, sir. I’m lucky I got in with a scholarship.” Not true. I did have discounted tuition because of my high scores on the entrance exams. I suppose, it was still technically a scholarship, just not what people usually think when they hear that term. I wasn’t some genius, award-winning student who was a member of tons of organizations.

Nonetheless, it did impress Officer H-Something as I intended. A begrudging smile broke the grumpy mask he wore. “Seems like you’re a bright girl. I do hope when you become a lawyer, you work for the government instead of going private. There’s more money there, I get it. Money does buy happiness, contrary to what people say. I’ll be happy if my girls won’t need student loans when they go to a good university, maybe even to Eloyce University, like you.

“But there are some kinds of happiness money can’t buy. The happiness of people you’ll help if you work for the government, for example. Or the general happiness of the city you’re helping to keep safe. Many people take normalcy for granted these days. It's only when something bad happens, like now, that people remember the happiness they felt when everything was safe. And I’m sure we’ll need bright girls like you to help keep the people safe.”

“That’s inspiring, sir,” I replied. “I always wanted to work in the public sector.”

“Maybe you can work with us here, or maybe with the BID.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied noncommittedly. I bent down to finish the questionnaire, and he returned to watching the TV. A couple more lines and I finished answering it. I looked it over twice, carefully rereading everything just like a future lawyer should, before signing the bottom of each page and handing it to him.

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“If these people genuinely believed there’s a possibility of another seeding outbreak,” he said with a frown, “or that there’s some Adumbrae lurking inside the hospital, then why in the goddamn hell are they there—oh, you’re done.” He nodded towards the TV. “Look at that. They’re rioting now…or again. If you were stuck in the traffic, you might’ve gotten caught up in that.”

I shook my head with an air of disapproval, mimicking his favorite gesture. “I can’t believe this is happening in our city.” Don’t read what I wrote. Not that I’ve written anything false or illegal there, but the fewer the questions, the better.

“People can change at the drop of a hat, don’t forget that, miss.”

“I guess it’s because it’s the first time this happened in our city,” I said. “People are panicking and acting irrationally. Like you said, sir, people take normalcy for granted. I guess that includes me too.”

“That’s true. And it’s not just the shit they’re stirring up there that’s the problem—excuse my words, miss, I’m just pissed. An emotionally charged gathering like this in the wake of two major Adumbrae incidents? It affects not only the psyche of the people gathering there, but the city as a whole. Very dangerous.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“This is the first time something like this happened in La Esperanza. The result is shock, distress, and heightened stress on the minds of the people, creating possible cracks an Adumbrae could wiggle in. It’s a vicious cycle that could happen if we don’t put a stop to it.

“Think of earthquakes. A particularly strong earthquake causes a lot of damage, but that’s not the end of it. There will be aftershocks that follow which can cause even more devastation, especially if they hit the same place. If a building is already weakened by the main quake, the aftershock might be the one to bring it down. The smartest thing to do is try to get back to normal as soon as possible. I know that’s a tall order—”

There was knock behind me followed by the clicking of heels on the tiles as a woman entered the room. “Sir, I got it printed out,” said Saffron, this guy’s secretary. I had no problem remembering her name even if I didn’t give a fuck because I always wanted to try out saffron tea. She handed me a document. “Here is the statement you gave us earlier, Ms. Hartwell.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“I’ve also printed the certificates needed for your tests so we can quickly have these stamped and signed afterwards. It was annoying to have these organized because your beautiful friend is causing quite a commotion there at the back.”

“Sorry for that,” I said, with an embarrassed smile. I hoped those two could successfully carry out the plan. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to.”

“Those rascals,” said Henry, or maybe Hector. “I’ll talk to them later. I was telling Ms. Hartwell here she should try working for the city when she graduates. She’s not going to be too keen on that if she sees we employ a bunch of excited boys.”

“Ah…no,” I said. “There’s no—”

“Are you sure that that’s going to be the problem, sir?” said Saffron, winking at me. “You may have already scared her from applying to our office.” She bent down and whispered to me in a voice intentionally audible to her boss, “Just bring ear plugs, and you’ll be fine working here.”

“I can hear that, Saffy,” he growled.

She chuckled. “Miss Hartwell, go over your statement and tell us if there’s anything incorrect or inaccurate; I’ll edit it. If you’re satisfied with it, you can sign it at the space indicated and we can proceed.”

“Are those punks done getting tested?”

“Should be done in a few minutes. There was a slight delay because of our beautiful visitor.”

“Oh, I’m really sorry!” I said. “Deen wanted to tour your office and—”

“No worries, miss,” Officer H-Something said. “I said it was okay for her to tour. It’s rare we get Eloyce students interested in what we do.”

“I’ll be back in a bit for any edits,” said Saffron, walking out the door. “I’m just going to check the testing of the suspects.”

Harry or maybe Harlem heaved a sigh. “Those punks Saffy mentioned…Five of them, about the same age as my oldest girl. We caught them trying to sell Adumbrae parts they allegedly harvested from the body of the Titan Adumbrae. Some wacko people think those can be used as talismans to ward off Adumbrae because they were touched by Corebrings.”

“Is that true?”

“Definitely not. Adumbrae body parts can be dangerous. Fortunately, what those punks were selling were fakes. Sculptures made from wads of wet paper painted to look mysterious. Low-life fraudsters trying to profit from the panic. We normally don’t test these swindling nutjobs, a waste of resources of the city. But because we had two Adumbrae attacks, the BID wants every suspect we come across, no matter how seemingly unconnected, tested and processed, their info entered in the database. Better be safe than sorry.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, examining the paper Saffron gave me.

“Go ahead and read it. I’ll just get coffee.”

They accurately typed out the statement I gave earlier:

I had some school project I was working on with Deen, so I stayed at her place last Tuesday night. I had no idea about the Adumbrae attack on the condominium building I lived in until I saw it on the news. At that point, obviously I didn’t go there anymore. After recovering from shock this morning, I decided to come forward to help the police and the BID in assembling the list of the casualties in that horrible incident—more specifically, to remove my name from it—and to volunteer any possible information that could help them in rooting out other surviving Adumbrae.

Everything neatly tied with a ribbon.

I decided making the story I told Mom the official one because it was so much easier to keep straight, only requiring Deen to be my witness if needed. The police had no reason to suspect my story. I was a strait-laced lady going to one of the best universities in the country, just doing school work like the hope of the nation that I was.

Mental note, we had to change the story Deen told her sister. That was if her sister even cared about it.

“All in order, miss?” Officer H-Something asked, swigging a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.

“It’s accurate, sir. I’ll just sign here?” I pointed at the blank. I know to sign there, duh. But it was to give this guy an opportunity to be helpful, and for me to be grateful. He nodded. “Thank you,” I said as wrote my signature. “Am I going to be tested next?”

“Let’s wait for Saffy—ah, here she is,” he said. “They done there?”

“Yes, sir. Ms. Hartwell can follow. And by the way, Dr. Cornelio came in. I think he wants to question Ms. Hartwell first before approving her for testing.”

He grunted in surprise. “He’s here now? He better have a good excuse why he was absent yesterday and came in late today. I was about to assume that crazy bastard got killed by an Adumbrae behind a dumpster.”

“Excuse not only for us, sir, but for his wife too.”

“Oho! You’re right. She was worried sick about that old fart not coming home, kept on calling me yesterday.”

“You’re both the same age, sir.”

“That reminds me, miss,” he said to me, ignoring Saffron’s comment. “Perhaps you know Cornelio’s wife? He’s the head of the labs in this station, and his wife is a professor at Eloyce University.”

“I’m not sure if I do,” I said, trying to remember my female law professors who were married. Most were single. “Cornelio is the surname? I don’t think—”

“No, no, er, yes, Cornelio’s is Kenneth’s surname, but his wife uses her maiden name. Isn’t that right, Saffy?"

“Yes, sir,” she said. “Her surname is Deslys.”