Neural Wraith, page 42
“Is something wrong, Nick?” Helena asked, her voice growing in alarm.
“I’m fine. Rie’s just being catty.”
“I am not.”
“Oh. Then may I have a good afternoon?”
“I hope so. I’ll see you in a few minutes, Helena. That’s why I’m here early. And yes, good afternoon.”
A soft hum wafted through his ear drums. Nick wasn’t sure if Helena knew she made this noise, but it was a far cry from the way she abruptly closed windows or ended conversations in the past.
Inside the Spires, they actually used a different set of elevators. These went farther underground. Helena was located ten stories below ground now, much like the evidence vault. There were probably bunkers and storage vaults farther below. One of the signs he’d seen suggested there was a bank branch here, for whatever reason.
Who even went to physical bank branches, anyway?
Once they arrived on the correct floor, Nick had to pass multiple biometric scanners, a Custodian who insisted on authorizing him herself, and multiple security doors to get close to the police mainframes.
Then he promptly ignored them and entered a different room. One secured by a vault-like door and guarded by a pair of Custodians.
Inside, he found a bulky mainframe computer. Unlike the sleek, contained design of Lumen’s unit, Helena was a gargantuan, industrial-looking beast. The transportation company that had moved her here had placed numerous plastic shields over exposed components and tied up many loose cables.
Helena looked as experimental as she was. But as far as Nick was concerned, she was Helena, and that was all that mattered.
“Hello, Nick,” she whispered.
“Mmm.” He pulled up the office chair next to her terminal and began rooting through her logs.
A gasp came across the earpiece, but was abruptly cut off.
“The Host believes this is unnecessary for the channel,” Meta said, to enthusiastic nods from the others.
“Unfair,” Helena whined, her voice returning.
“Sexual conduct is not permitted over this channel,” Meta insisted.
“Enough,” Nick said, getting déjà vu from this argument. “This will take a while. I’m going over Helena’s directives and trying to identify those that might cause issues when she gets an interface.”
“Shouldn’t you be checking for hardware malfunctions?” Rie asked.
“As I’ve said, I can’t find any. If you or any of the Mark 3s find one, let me know.” He met her gaze for several seconds, and she looked away with a huff.
The next hour passed swiftly. Losing himself in logs, code, and mainframe directives was easy. But he idly wondered how long it had been before he had truly done it? In Tartarus, he mostly treated the symptoms of Helena’s tantrums. Days where he could just poke and prod at her were few and far between.
And even in Neural Spike, there had been other researchers who modified her. Nick had effectively laid claim to her in Tartarus, but she hadn’t always been his.
All good things must come to an end, however. Rie reminded him of the time, and he left, promising to visit soon.
Then he removed the earpieces and placed them in the soundproof container. He didn’t know what Kim wanted to talk about, but it might be for his ears only.
It was the usual meeting room. Hammond stood outside it in his usual outfit. He waved at Nick as he approached.
“Still enjoying your holiday?” Hammond asked. “You’ve spent more time on your ass than working. Damn fine job.”
Nick snorted. “You never change.”
Hammond frowned. “I dunno about that, Nick.”
Before Nick could probe Hammond for more, the door opened. Rie and the Archangels waited outside.
Inside were Chief Andrews and Commissioner Kim. They wore charcoal suits, and Kim smiled as they entered. Andrews merely nodded at both of them.
“Excellent, you’re both here,” Kim said, waving for them to sit. “I wanted to keep today brief. Important, but brief. One of you is on leave, after all. And the other will be very busy.”
Hammond leaned back in his chair, then looked at Andrews. She merely smiled back at him. That was the first real expression Nick had seen on her face, and it was only for the older detective.
“I don’t have more to say on the difficult situation regarding Captain Lieu than I already have.” Kim shifted uncomfortably. “I have requested that the Asgard Police Department look into past incidents that Lieu may have been involved in. But that’s not your problem, and not today’s subject.”
“So, what is?” Hammond asked gruffly.
“Promotions, and the future.” Kim stood, then held out his hand. “Congratulations to the both of you. Effective immediately, you are now Captain Paul Hammond, and you are Lieutenant Cipher Nicholas Waite.”
Hammond somehow shook Kim’s hand without hesitation, although his eyes showed his shock. Nick needed another moment to recover his composure.
“Despite the pretty words, I don’t think this is a happy promotion.” Hammond eyed both executives warily.
“The circumstances are difficult,” Kim said. “This will not be public for some time, but I am placing the remaining Ciphers in the bureau on permanent leave. The Archangel Division delivered results, while the rest of the bureau sat on their hands. And given the imminent downsizing, the board considers this to be a merciful decision.”
“So, the bureau is basically just the Archangel Division…” Hammond said, the lines around his eyes creasing. “Or are you replacing the other detectives?”
Hammond’s tone suggested he knew better than to ask, but he had anyway. Maybe this was his version of prayer.
Kim looked at Nick, and somehow he knew what was coming.
“I am, actually. The Autonomous Crime Management and Prevention Bureau will undergo a restructure in anticipation of an imminent deployment of Mark 3 model Archangels. The Oversight Task Force has proven its capability under Uriel, and the Mark 1s are tried and tested officers.” Kim smiled broadly. “They will be joined by the prototype model Ezekiel. I do hope you work as well with her as you have with Uriel, Detective Waite.”
CHAPTER 35
The news that Nick would soon be up to his ears in new Archangels wasn’t the only topic of the meeting, but it was the main one. Kim chattered about various bureaucratic nonsense for another twenty minutes, then dashed off. Andrews followed, but sent a meaningful look at Hammond on the way out.
“Well, this is a shitshow,” Hammond said as he rose. “We should celebrate.”
“The shitshow?”
“The promotions, smartass.” The other detective hit Nick in the arm as he walked to the door. “You still need to try Kate’s amazing cocktails.”
Outside, Nick’s usual escort waited with Chloe, as well as Hammond’s guards. They fell into step behind the detectives.
“Where’s Rie?” Nick asked Chloe.
“She left for unknown reasons. If we are leaving, she desires to be notified.”
“Then do that.”
Chloe narrowed her eyes at him, and he thought she might rebel for a moment. Then her eyes flashed and all returned to normal.
“She will meet us underground,” Chloe said.
Hammond snorted. “You’re still driving around in police cruisers while on leave?”
“Given the number of times I’ve been shot at lately, they won’t let me take a taxi,” Nick said.
“As the Lieutenant Cipher of the division, you are entitled to—” Chloe began to say.
“I was the Lieutenant Cipher an hour ago,” Hammond growled. “Why didn’t I get a presidential motorcade everywhere I went?”
“You didn’t ask.”
Hammond jabbed a thumb at her, as if to say, “These fucking dolls.”
The floor was free of the Custodians that had haunted the halls weeks ago. Nick wasn’t entirely sure how the department planned to replace the losses they’d taken.
They filed into the elevators and began to descend.
“Do you know if they’re doing anything about all the dolls we blew up?” Nick asked Hammond.
“Huh? Probably download their backups into new units. I loaned out Uriel to scrub the other tin cans clean of any shitty directives.” The older man scratched his beard. “That shit is a problem for the other bureaus, anyway. At least for now. Fuck, captain. I might need to actually give a shit about this stuff.”
“I noticed that the commissioner didn’t mention pay.”
“He sent through employment contracts during the meeting.” Hammond shrugged. “Pretty sure I’m just being given Lieu’s salary, but keeping my benefits.”
“Benefits?”
The elevator came to a stop, and Hammond looked at Nick. He began ticking off fingers.
“Insurance, gym membership, retirement fund payments, leave… Everybody’s on individual contracts, but a lot of the benefits are done as a group. Shouldn’t you know this stuff?” Hammond frowned.
Nick looked at Chloe, who shrugged.
“You asked for higher pay, not high benefits,” she said. “Your insurance package is substantially better than the departmental standard, in any case.”
“What, do they send a nurse doll to your house whenever you scrape your knee?” Hammond joked.
“Yes. That’s not normal?” Nick asked.
The old man swore under his breath, then swept out of the elevator. Four SUVs waited for them, and Rie stood beside one. She tilted her head when she saw Hammond in a foul mood.
“How’d you convince the Commish to give him a gold-plated insurance policy?” Hammond asked Rie. “I heard you had to fight for him, but I thought that was because the military are shit-scared of him.”
“That is an overstatement,” Rie said, rolling her eyes. “Nicholas has an insurance policy that matches his medical needs.”
“What, does lacking an implant mean you drop dead if you catch a cold?” Hammond looked Nick up and down.
“My insurer thinks so,” Nick drawled. “I thought house calls by nurse dolls was common?”
“Only for serious problems. It still costs money to send one out. The insurer is still going to cheap out and send me to a clinic or hospital, rather than waste a doll on me.”
Hammond slipped inside one of the SUVs, and Nick followed. While Rie and Chloe joined them, this created a conundrum.
These vehicles were only intended for six occupants. Nick usually had four escorts, and Rie would fill the vehicle.
Meta, Juliet, and Rosa stared at each other. Their eyes flashed, and Meta bowed out.
“I will see you at the bar, Nicholas,” Meta said, before joining the Mark 1s in the other SUVs.
The doors closed and they took off.
“You’re some kind of doll whisperer, aren’t you?” Hammond asked. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been called by my first name by any of the police dolls.”
Chloe’s eyes flashed. “There are two occurrences in our database. Both are jokes.”
“Thanks.”
The trip to the bar was a short one. Hammond continued the small talk about pay and other trivialities.
Ordinarily, Nick would consider this sort of thing important. But he’d just been gifted an apartment and had received his first paycheck. It was as eye-watering as he had expected, especially with the tax benefits he now received.
While he wouldn’t be buying his own solar yacht and sailing the stars anytime soon, Nick didn’t need to worry about hot water. The downside was that the Archangels were relentless in their desire to hire housekeeping dolls.
“I assume you don’t hire maid dolls or anything, Paul,” Nick said as they pulled up to the old emergency services building.
“Hire? No. I have an old LifeMaid from my divorce, though. Kept the doll and the dog, sold my half of the apartment.” Hammond shrugged.
Nick remained silent as they approached the exterior entrance. This was news to him.
The same could be said of the pristine state of the building. If he hadn’t been attacked by cybernetic mercenaries here, he’d never guess that a van had blown itself up here. Not a single scorch mark or bullet hole remained.
Although the distinct lack of people might have been a hint that something was off. The plaza was completely empty, and Nick worried about the financial state of the businesses inside the building.
“Fuck, don’t be so awkward,” Hammond grumbled as they stepped inside. “I haven’t been married for over a decade. You were a pimply little shit back then.”
“I figured you’d either still be married or, uh…”
“Forever single?” Hammond let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t worry about it. My daughter makes that joke, too. Used to drive me up the wall.”
“And it doesn’t anymore?”
“Last time the topic came up, she was whining about how awful dating was on the Altnet. She’s studying to become a mainframe engineer and goes through boyfriends like I go through beer.”
“Sounds rough.”
Hammond snorted. He pushed open the door to the bar, then paused. His eyes lingered on Rie.
“Are you tin cans going to follow us inside?”
Both Rie and Chloe were hot on Nick’s heels, while most of the others lingered in the hallway outside. As Nick had suspected, business seemed even quieter than the last time he was here.
“Is there anything stopping me from entering?” Rie asked with a fake smile.
“I could order you to stay outside.”
“Are you going to?”
Hammond grunted, then wandered into the bar without another word. The door nearly swung shut before Chloe caught it. They stepped inside.
A dark, smoky atmosphere filled the bar, almost identical to the last time Nick had been here. Kate stood in her usual position and didn’t react to their entrance. Her lifeless eyes remained focused on the empty space.
Hammond dumped his coat on a table, then eyed the others. “Well, this makes the coin flip easier.” He turned to the bartender. “Kate, give us four whiskey sours.”
She swiveled her head to face him, then nodded. “Yes, detective.” Then she looked at Nick. “And what can I—”
“Don’t you fucking dare, Kate,” Hammond growled. “Just make the damn drinks.”
Kate tilted her head in confusion for several long seconds, before retrieving a cocktail shaker from beneath the bar and beginning her work. Apparently, Hammond’s words had stopped her comedy routine in its tracks.
The four of them sat in a booth. Despite how weathered the cushions looked, Nick discovered they were far more comfortable than the stools. He ran a finger over the worn leather and frowned.
“This is fake,” he said. “The wear and tear are part of the fabric.”
“What, you thought a dump like this had real leather booths?” Hammond laughed. “It’s all aesthetic, Nick. Keep the lights dim and nobody notices how shit everything is.”
“We do,” Chloe and Rie said together.
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s cleaner now that every surface is cleaned by a robot that doesn’t rely on our decrepit flesh.”
“I thought we were celebrating?” Nick asked.
“Damn right we are.” Hammond looked over at Kate, who was still preparing the cocktails. “What were we talking about earlier?”
“Dating,” Chloe said, her eyes bright as she stared at Nick.
Somehow, he knew exactly what her interest in this topic was. Rie looked just as fascinated.
“Oh, right. You don’t have a ring—virtual or physical—so I’m guessing you’re single? No girlfriend on the side?” Hammond asked.
“No. Do people actually marry with virtual rings?”
“You get a bigger diamond that way. Sad part is that you still need to pay for it.”
That truly was sad.
Nick shook his head. “I dated back in Neural Spike, but it didn’t last. Wasn’t really on my mind in Tartarus.”
“Really? Seems like the perfect time to do something.” Hammond drummed his fingers. “Don’t tell me you have problems because of…” He pointed at the side of his head.
Nick winced. “I mean, that does shrink the pool a little. My problem in Neural Spike was because I worked too much. My girlfriend was one of the normal Ciphers there, and she did normal hours. Welk dragged me off to help with every harebrained scheme he came up with, and I did appalling hours. I think we lasted four months.”
“Well, if being a workaholic is your problem, you now have several thousand girlfriends who have made your life their own,” Hammond said, somehow keeping his face straight in the process.
Rie and Chloe glared at the older detective, while Nick ran a hand down his face.
“Thanks, Paul.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I won’t.”
“You just—”
Kate cleared her throat and interrupted their argument. She stood beside the booth with a large platter in one hand. Four bell-shaped glasses stood atop the platter, but the drinks lacked the distinct foaminess of a good sour.
Nobody uttered a word as Kate placed each drink in front of them. She snapped the platter to her side afterward.
“Enjoy,” she said with a bright smile. Her pigtails ran down her front as she tilted her head in the process.
Nick stared at the oddly orange drink in front of him. All four of them looked identical, which boded poorly.
Hammond bared his teeth. As Kate walked away, he rose to his feet.
“Kate!” he roared.
“Yes, detective?” she asked while turning.
“Why do all of them have egg yolks in them? And don’t pretend they don’t. They’re bright fucking orange!”
Kate blinked in that slow, languorous motion that indicated she was struggling to process what she had heard.
Then she said, “Last time you were here, I overheard you mention you wished to try my special whiskey sour. It is part of my programming to oblige the service needs of all clients.”
Hammond’s eyes practically popped out of his skull.
Nick coughed and took over. “I thought you were programmed to use yolks fifty percent of the time?”
