“GET BACK HERE”
“RICH BITCH”
“WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE”
“FUCKING PIG”
My heart was pounding, my ribcage felt like it was on the verge of breaking, and my mind was racing. Remind me next time to come prepared if I go to Sector 2. I had gone out on a missing persons search, and I needed to interview the family. Turns out that the victim’s family was shitty and had called their friends to steal my car as I was interviewing them. They could see that my car was self driving, which is an expensive addition. The RunDrive self driving tech is rare, but NYPD officers get it as a way for Runner to gain influence and favor from the department. I like it, I just wish it wasn’t so fucking obvious. It’s like a sign saying “Rob Me!!” on the roof.
I jump into the car, almost shouting at it to head back to the station in a panic. I could see the teens running at what seems like a thousand miles per hour, hammers and pipes in their meaty hands. I could hear the system booting up as my fear increased, they were getting too close for comfort, almost on the other side of the lawn. I sighed in relief as the car roared to life and backed out of the drive, and then I fully relaxed as I saw them fade in the distance. I can do hand-to-hand combat, but no amount of training can overcome three people with weapons.
I picked up my phone and dialed in my superior officer & best friend, Callie. She was personally involved in this case and was good friends with the victims’ boyfriend. After a couple rings, she picked up the phone.
“So how did it go?” She asked
“Not super well, some thugs chased after me, and I didn’t bring my gun because this should’ve been low-risk” I replied hesitantly, knowing that I fucked up by not bringing a weapon.
“Oh god, where was this?!” She responded, distressed.
“Uhmm…. At the outer edge of Sector two?” I said tentatively. Most missions, even recon, suggest some form of weapon. Especially when it’s in areas like Sector two. I had a Taser but that wouldn’t have been any use here.
“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?” Callie screeched through the phone. I pull the mobile away from my ear because of the volume. She isn’t normally like this, but she knows the situation with my mother and has basically become a second mother figure in my life, despite the fact that she’s only five years older. I appreciate it a lot, and although I don’t really show it much, I think she knows that.
“I’m sorry! It was recon-only! I just needed to question the family; I didn’t expect them to tell Andrade to rob me!” I exclaimed into the phone, grateful that I don’t have to drive the car due to my hands which were waving around wildly.
Callie has always been protective of me. I’m smaller than the typical police officer, my 5’6 lanky frame is not what you’d typically expect for a high-ranking police officer. I had always been teased for it in the Academy and as an on-duty officer, however I quickly managed to be promoted to Detective for the NYPD because of my wit. My small form and unthreatening appearance played in my favor here, as I could blend in with a crowd, escape sticky situations, and people would underestimate me. In the Academy I had to work harder on technique and form in close-quarters combat, to try to counteract criminals who almost always have more size on me.
Nobody expected me to be a police officer, I was never the “serve justice” type. My favorite subjects were English, Philosophy and Computer Science in high school. This ultimately didn’t help me in my training, however it did mean that I didn’t have to spend much time as a normal cop.
Callie had always stressed over me, to her I was still a depressed crying mess. I won’t lie and say that I’m not still that in some ways, but Callie worries for me. Being a detective avoids most of the violent action, which means guns aren’t as necessary to me. This combined with my general aversion to guns doesn’t help Callie’s stress over my safety.
“I swear to god Sam, if you don’t stop getting yourself in these kinds of situations, I’ll have to assign you an Android. Don’t make me do this, we both know how much you hate them”
I could almost see her trademark disappointed face through the phone. My personal hate for Andrade can sometimes cloud my judgement, and despite the fact that I’ve never been severely hurt from this lack of judgement, Callie hates it nonetheless. “Play it smart” She would say.
“No! I don’t need one. I’m doing fine without, and I’m still one of your top detectives! Androids are literally useless and can’t do anything faster than I can. Plus their beady eyes freak me the fuck out, they stare into your soul!” I whine, getting ready to end the conversation.
The Sector 1 checkpoint is coming up and they almost always give me trouble. Classist bitches. If I had a Benz they’d let me through no problem, apparently my Toyota was not good enough for them. I could go through faster if I used a police vehicle, but that’s basically asking for trouble when you take a Sector One vehicle to Sector Two. All they see is “money”, and tough luck if you need to ask for help from the Sector Two police force.
“Okay okay, I won’t. But you do realize how much they’ve improved, right? Charlie’s Android is freaky but it’s also several generations old. It can just help you with filing and paperwork, if needed.” She said calmly, trying to convince me. I’ve been teased in the Academy about how I’d probably need an Android to do the dirty work. I don’t need anything, I’m fine by myself. Better by myself.
“I still don’t need one” I say, giving up on the argument. “I have to go now, I’ve reached the checkpoint” I sigh.
“Alright, see you soon Sam” Callie responds, giving up on the topic.
After getting through the checkpoint, I quickly check my phone. I see a text from my friend Alex. Yay.
Not.
Alex:
How was the date with Sophie?
Alex has been trying to set me up for months. He says that my apartment is “empty” without a woman. I don’t disagree with that, my apartment is huge by modern NYC standards. Thanks ancestors. But I didn’t click with Sophie, she was just not it for me. NYC is full of overprivileged trust fund babies, Sophie being the daughter of a retired oil mogul. She was completely socially disconnected from even the typical Sector 1 citizen, which is impressive. She had no idea about how the world worked, and one of the first things she said to me was a comment about my height. I can’t stand anyone who makes a point about my height, I can beat your ass either way. Sophie also just isn’t my type.
Pass.
At this point I’m still fifteen minutes away from the station, so I decide to respond.
Sam:
Didn’t work out. She didn’t like my height and was a stuck-up bitch. Sorry, I just don’t really think dating is for me right now
The phone makes a “Bing” sound as the message sends. I don’t think that Alex will like my answer, but he also doesn’t understand me. My mom was killed by Andrade and I still haven’t recovered, and I won’t recover until Andrade is down for good. She had just got a new job, after searching for months. She hated her old job. We were finally doing well, and one single visit out of Sector One and she’s dead. They haven’t found her body, but that’s typical for an Andrade attack. They struck at the checkpoint, as she was on her way in. It was a message. A message saying that we weren’t safe. Since that attack six years ago, security has only been increased.
Scanners on all sides of the car as you approach, a human vitals detector, sheltered concrete buildings, and even earth-to-air counterattack missiles within the city. I appreciate the measures, but nobody is truly safe while Andrade still stands. They always find a way.
I’m brought out of my chain of thought as I feel the car decelerating at the parking lot. The car stops, and as I’m unbuckling my seatbelt, I notice a teardrop falling on my face. I was crying? I quickly wipe it away before anyone sees it and head towards the Sector One police station.
It was a massive, 120 floor glass & steel building. It towered even over the One World Trade Center. Thanks billionaires. The entire building had two-inch-thick glass sides, a state of the art RunFace AI security system, anti-aircraft missiles, and even parachutes on every floor in case everything really goes to shit. Although honestly this served more as a statement than an actual utility, it was petitioned and designed by a board composed of the top 10 largest companies and people in New York. Runner obviously being at the top of the list. It served as a message to Andrade that Sector One was not to be messed with.
As I walk into the building, and go through the ID badge, face, and fingerprint scan, I go back to thinking about Alex and his antics. He was my high school buddy and ever since we were sixteen, and he would nag incessantly me about getting a girlfriend. I suspect that it started after he got his girlfriend, he wanted to flex that on me by reminding me about how I don’t have one. And it’s not like I can’t have one, I just haven’t found anyone I like.
Maybe I’m asexual. My mom was, and the only reason she had me was through IVF. She didn’t even want to conceive naturally, which I fully respect. Although I have liked girls before, just never in recent years. Either way, Sophie just isn’t for me. She can find some rich old man to marry for all I care, it’ll sure be the only way she can continue her lifestyle in the future.
I step onto the elevator, and head to my floor. One hundred and seventeen. I hate heights, so it annoys me that the Investigative department is so high up, but I’ll manage. I just stay as far away from the windows as I can. At one point I was teasing Callie in her office and we were pushing eachother around a bit, until she pushed me and I hit the glass. I passed out the second I realized how far down I could see. Since then Callie hasn’t said anything regarding it but I still feel like she babies me over it. I hate it.
Somehow Callie knew I was coming back and rushed towards me the second I stepped off of the elevator. She probably checked for when I scanned in.
“Oh my god you fucking idiot! I watched the footage and how dumb could you be? I know you can do well in a fight but that doesn’t mean go to the outskirts of Sector Two without any other method of defense!” She cried out, while grabbing me into a backbreaking hug. Overdramatic as usual.
“I’m fiiiine, I had my Taser on me the whole time! Chill out.” I respond. I can hold my own! Nothing has happened so far, I don’t get this reaction.
“Chill out? You want me to chill out, over your ignorant mistake? I’m not saying you should wear a mech-suit but for Christ’s sake at least keep a rubber bullet gun on you! The bare minimum! You should be glad for the new gun laws, if this was a month ago you would have been shot the second you stepped out of that house!” Callie said, clearly exasperated by my actions. For context, last month anyone under 30 had their gun taken away in Sector two, and anyone over 30 had their gun locked to their fingerprint with a reporting system whenever it was shot. It was meant to lower the prevalence of gun violence, but mostly just made a larger class divide between Sector One and Two.
“Alright alright. I see your point. From now on I’ll take at least a plasma gun and wear a bulletproof vest. There? Good enough for you?” I say, tired of her antics. I can handle myself and the more I wear police attire the less effective I am at laying low & observing.
“No.” Callie responds. She seems angry at this point. I stare at her, confused, what else could she demand? “I’m stationing you with Charlie for his murder case. It’s a pretty clean cut and simple case, but you need to see what it’s like to work with someone for once. Also, you can see how the Android helps. I know you like tech, I can even show you how to access it’s files.”
This actually piques my interest. They freak the fuck out of me, at least Charlie’s one does. It’s creepy, like the uncanny valley. Not fully humanoid but not fully robotic. But I do like tech and if I really want to know more about them, what’s better than seeing how they tick? But I’ll never tell Callie about this, to her I still hate them.
“Okay, I guess. What’s the model name? I want to research how to use this thing before I get near it.” I say in disgust.
“It’s a BN600” she says curtly
“Wasn’t that model recalled?” I ask her, remembering some articles from years ago.
“Yes, they’ve had, well, issues, but we haven’t decommissioned Charlie’s because of how useful it seems to be for him, and the chances of something going wrong is still pretty low.”
Going wrong? I think. I thought Androids were harmless, what’s the matter if something breaks? Just get a new one, right? Callie is shuffling a bit, I’ve never seen her act this weird before, she’s usually a very open person.
Hm.
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