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Aurelia Peri had failed to stop her target from fleeing out of the alley, and now, against specific orders, she was creating a scene. Humid wind plastered tangles of red hair to her skin, renegade strands from her rope braid. She spat some out of her mouth with a grimace.
“Come on, come on,” she hissed to her borrowed ride. The cycle hummed as she opened up the throttle, bearing down on the running man meters ahead. He shoved people aside, throwing a glance behind him. Fresh blood ran from his nose and upper lip, the vivid crimson clear even through the blur of foot traffic separating them on the open-air skybridge.
“Stop by order of the DISC taskforce!” she shouted as pedestrians leapt out of her cycle’s path into the protective glass guard rails. Birdie, a lithe white poodle and Auri’s assigned partner, loped just ahead, snarling and barking at anyone who didn’t scramble away fast enough.
Auri could’ve sent Birdie to tackle the man and pin him in place, but this was her first assignment. She wanted—no, needed—to prove she was capable. Not just to her captain and fellow DISC agents, but to herself.
The man reached the end of the skybridge. Instead of taking the escalator back to ground level almost thirty stories below where the chase began, he staggered through the doors of the connected building. Birdie bounded after him.
“Kuso,” Auri swore. She reached the building’s entrance heartbeats later, leaping off the cycle. It powered down as the doors whooshed open, and she sprinted through. The suddenly cool air brought out goose bumps along her organic skin. Birdie, tongue lolling, waited in the center of a walkway surrounded by cubicles of tinted smart glass. Curious heads poked out from the tiny offices, showing varying degrees of interest and concern.
Auri flashed a smile that she hoped looked confident. At the end of the hall, her target slid open a door and disappeared behind it, leaving a dripping red handprint on the glass.
She ran, Birdie at her heels, the tails of her dark green coat dancing at her back. A manager shouted, “No dogs!” as she passed his office, furnished with a sleek designer sofa in front of a curved steel desk. He leapt out of his hover-chair and jogged into the hall.
Auri bared her forearm to him, the barcode on her skin warming as the c-tact lenses in the man’s eyes processed her DISC agent badge. His reprimands shriveled into silence, though his mouth still hung open like a faulty shuttle door.
The other side of the bloodied glass revealed a flight of steps, slick with decades of dust. Smeared footprints and droplets of blood led upwards. Auri’s mechanical leg propelled her up each flight even after her organic leg began to burn with fatigue. The bang of another door opening and closing echoed through the space. She pushed herself harder, faster.
A black glass door loomed at the top of the final flight of steps. She yanked it open. Glaring sunlight burned her organic eye, oppressive humidity replacing the cool air. She blinked away tears and focused on the silhouette of her target, hunched in the center of the building’s tiled roof, heaving labored breaths.
Her c-tacts whirred with facial recognition tech available for DISC agents on active missions. Information coalesced at the left corner of her vision, adding to the identification information available to any citizen of the Ancora Federation.
Tanaka, Hiroki, DOB 14 Sep 3276
R. Loc.: Kaido, Ushi District
Cattle Ranch Hand
Wanted: Alive
Auri heaved in a lungful of air that was part relief and part exhaustion. At least she’d been chasing the right man. After all, this was an emergency transfer of a COF, a Class One Fugitive. If she hadn’t been the only agent nearby when Agent Hillsdale slipped getting into his shuttle and broke his leg, Auri might still be back on Rokuton. The Military Police Brigade, MPB, had been after Hiroki for days. He’d finally popped up on Babbage and they wanted to seize the opportunity. Hillsdale said he’d inform the
captain of the transfer according to protocol and to “get the hell onto your shuttle.”
She couldn’t screw this up. For both her and Agent Hillsdale’s sakes.
“Tanaka Hiroki,” she began. “I am Agent Peri Aurelia of the DISC taskforce.” She paused midway to catch her breath. “You are under arrest for the murders of Tanaka Marie and Tanaka Hana. You have the right to—”
Hiroki gripped the sides of his face, torn and dirtied fingernails digging into his skin. “It wasn’t me. I would never… I never.” The lawn furniture and potted plants placed about the roof acted as mute witnesses to the man’s pleas. Auri forced herself to remain detached, calm.
“Mr. Tanaka,” she soothed, taking a hesitant step forward, Birdie following. “I promise you will have the opportunity to plead your innocence in court.”
But even Auri knew the judge would find this man guilty. Her brief perusal of his case file on her flight over hadn’t uncovered any other suspects.
But now that she got a good look, his current state didn’t match the violent criminal she had imagined when Hillsdale transferred the file. Hiroki wore threadbare rags streaked with blood, both dried and recent. His right forearm bore a gouge along his barcode. Crimson oozing from the wound splattered the tiled rooftop. The effort to obliterate his identifying marker, an illegal action in itself, had been a waste because he hadn’t sliced deep enough. His nose and lip, cut from a fall on the escalator earlier in her chase, had stopped bleeding but left his face a gory mess.
How this man escaped Kaido and navigated Krugel’s Curve was beyond her.
“No, no, no,” Hiroki moaned, shaking his head. Sweat and oil-dampened hair clung to his forehead. Fear burned hot in his eyes as his body tensed to run.
“Don’t move!” Auri shouted. “Birdie, detain!” Her partner darted forward, cutting off Hiroki’s only escape: an entrance to the nearby skybridge, this one mercifully devoid of pedestrians.
Auri hefted her disc free from its holster across her back. At her touch, the weapon grew from plate-sized to tire-sized. A hazy ring of blue electricity buzzed across its rim, the disc set to stun. She tightened her grip on the rubber handle in the center. “Mr. Tanaka, come with me peacefully. Enough running. You’re only
making things worse for yourself.” She took another step forward, nerves jangling in her stomach.
“They’ll kill me. They’ll put me in the dark.” He backed toward the edge of the roof, one hand squeezing the gaping wound over his barcode. Blood ran in rivulets over dirtied skin. “Attica chokes you, breaks you, and eats you whole.”
Auri resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the familiar phrase attached to the Federation’s notorious prison. She was too concerned about the ever-shrinking gap between Hiroki and the roof’s edge.
“No one is going to kill you,” she said.
Lie. The judgment for the atrocities Hiroki committed was death. But facing this man and his malnourished body, wrinkles around his mouth, and eyes lined with blood and grime, what else could she say?
“They should’ve killed me. Monsters hiding inside human flesh. Chomp, chomp, chomp.” Hiroki broke into a strangled, manic laugh. The heels of his worn geta, traditional Japanese sandals, scraped the tile. “Bit right through them, bones snapping. Gobbled them up.”
“Gobbled them up?” she repeated, shivering despite the heat. A copper tang tainted her mouth, and the world darkened at the edges. Faraway echoes of hungry snarls and terrified screams made her muscles tense. Pain burned deep in the socket of her right armpit where her robotic limb connected to muscle.
Birdie’s growl freed Auri from the clutches of the phantom cries. She tightened her grip on the disc, thankful her prosthetic hand couldn’t sweat. Hiroki stared at her, chapped lips slightly parted.
“They will come for us all,” he wheezed.
Auri shook her head, fighting the urge to retch. Her focus splintered between Hiroki and the strange hallucination she’d just had.
“Listen,” she began. “I don’t—” Hiroki straightened as if he’d reached a decision. “Wait!” She darted forward, her boots sliding on the smooth tile. “Stop!”
Hiroki took a step back into empty air. He appeared to hover as Auri ran, fighting against the viscosity of time to reach him.
She shouted his name, abandoning her disc as she leaned over the ledge, stretching out a hand. He was already too far. His eyes seemed to meet hers as he fell: limbs splayed, fingers curled. His lips moved, but Auri couldn’t hear him over the roaring in her ears and Birdie’s barking.
Hiroki hit the water roadway thirty floors below with a bone-breaking smack.
News drones zoomed overhead, controlled by cameramen back in cushy studios. No doubt the networks’ viewers would get a lovely picture of the hologram MPB line do not cross tape and the massive crowd gathered behind it. Policemen loitered about the sidewalk lined with blooming trees and iron benches, and a hover-boat dredged the canal in front of Auri…
Hunting for a broken body.
As Auri rushed down thirty floors after Hiroki’s suicide, passing boats had shoved the man’s body deeper into the canal system. She could’ve commissioned a gondola driver and retrieved the corpse herself, but that would’ve taken too long. Within hours, Hiroki’s body would drift out of the district’s canals into the darker waters between Babbage’s floating cities, anchored like enormous ships. Impossible to recover. For the sake of time, she had called in the local police. An embarrassing admission of incompetency in the hope of fixing things as best she could.
When Auri boarded her shuttle yesterday, she never imagined her first mission would end in such a spectacular failure. The eager excitement of seizing Hiroki and returning to her captain’s praise and Agent Hillsdale’s appreciation had bled away. Now she was trapped in a living, humid, media-filled nightmare.
But at least the officers around her seemed to be enjoying themselves. They chatted to the drones as the operators relayed questions through the machines’ tiny speakers. Those on the boat snacked on melting watermelon popsicles while a specially designed crane combed through the trash-lined bottom of Expansion District’s waterways.
Auri’s skin was covered in a slick sheen of sweat and murky water droplets, courtesy of the boat’s kickback spray. The DISC-mandated short-sleeved blouse and bow around her neck clung to her, revealing more than she thought appropriate with her vest unbuttoned. But she was too hot and too upset to put her coat back on or button the vest. Her body felt painfully small for her soul,
the aching, squirming thing longing to curl in on itself and hide. What would Agent Hillsdale say when he found out? And the investigation to follow…
If it wasn’t for Birdie at her side, she might have submitted to her desire to run. Instead, she knotted her fingers into the soft white curls atop the dog’s head, hair cropped short per regulation.
“We’ve got something!” An officer clenching a popsicle stick between his molars leaned over the boat’s bow. The crane emerged, its three-pronged claws wrapped around an object, liquid streaming into the water below.
Yes, Auri thought, swallowing around the lump in her throat as a limp form was dropped onto the sidewalk a few meters away. Object is the correct term.
Hiroki’s corpse met the bare requirements of being called “human.” Chunks of flesh and extremities had been sliced away by passing propellers. His dark eyes remained whole, still open and staring.
Staring at her.
Hiroki’s words, his pleas for understanding, replayed in her mind: “It wasn’t me. I would never… I never.” Why would a man choose this fate over Attica? Over a painless, instant death?
Auri caught herself before she could ponder his proclaimed innocence further. The evidence in the case file was clear, and her emotional response would be pointless.
The drones surged forward, snatching close-ups of the massacred corpse. Auri released Birdie, scrunching her hands into fists. She could almost hear the newscasters’ commentary as the live footage played: “We warn you that this video contains graphic content that may be disturbing for some viewers.” And all the viewers at home, instead of changing the stream, would lean forward, intrigued.
Small faces peered at her from the crowd, children sneaking peeks around their parents’ legs. One little girl with dark skin, hair a beautiful halo around her head, waved at Auri excitedly, as if the whole situation was such fun. The parents seemed too preoccupied trying to see what the crane dredged from the canal’s depths to think that the sight might not be appropriate for their children.
“Thank you!” Auri shouted to the officers who clustered around the body. She was barely loud enough to be heard over the crowd and drone of the motor. “I’ll take it from here.” She yanked her uniform coat off the bench where she’d draped it and shouldered her way through the gawkers. She gently spread it over Hiroki’s corpse. The jacket’s tails were long enough and the man’s body small enough that his entire form was covered, except for the bloated, discolored tips of his toes.
Drones buzzed in her face, whipping up stray hairs, and relayed their questions.
“Was this a suicide?”
“Can you comment on the DISC taskforce’s failure to capture 27.5 percent of criminals in the last six months?”
“As a cyborg, what are your thoughts on the Cyborg Bomber on Aurora?”
Auri turned away from the drones. Her inadequacy had already cost a man his life; she didn’t want to feed any negative press about DISC agents. Newscasters were experts at twisting footage to meet the Federation’s—and their—agendas.
“Senior Officer Krane,” she called over her shoulder to the supervising officer.
He approached, gray hair buzzed close to his skin, blue uniform tight across his chest. “Yes, Agent Peri?” His voice was r
ough as sandpaper, eyes suspicious as they roamed over her. It was an expression Auri was used to. No one trusted her overabundance of mechanical parts.
Back on Earth, over a millennia ago, all humanoid robots had been decommissioned due to a programming bug that caused them to turn against their masters. The cyborg prejudice worsened after the Cyborg Bomber incident six years ago. Especially for Auri. Many of his victims had been the parents of students in her class. Considering the Bomber had been quickly executed for his crimes, she and other cyborgs remained the perfect target for that hate.
“I am identifying this body as my assignment, Tanaka Hiroki.” The words were soot in her mouth, despite the relief she felt saying them. Regulation required her to stay to identify Hiroki for the local police, her personal report, and the subsequent investigation. “I’m leaving the body in your care. I’ll be filing your name in my report.” In other words, don’t lose this body or screw up because my captain will have your name.
Officer Krane gave a gruff nod. Auri turned away only to stop when he called out, “Your jacket?”
She glanced at the dark green material, its golden buttons and scarlet threading matching her pants and black knee-high boots.
The idea of picking up the jacket to reveal Hiroki’s body made her organic skin icy. She never wanted to touch that jacket again. She had enough spares back home.
“Keep it.” She grimaced, then whistled for Birdie.
The poodle trotted over as a whispered comment from one of the officers caught Auri’s attention: “You think she’d be a little less stoic, the clank. No messy court trial. The investigation won’t even give her a bad mark, being the GIC’s adopted daughter.”
“You can’t trust clanks,” another replied. “Their mechanical parts poison their brains. Maybe she killed the poor bastard.”
She gritted her teeth at clank, the derogatory term for cyborgs. “Come on, Bird.” The pair stepped through the hologram police tape and into the crowd. Many onlookers stepped aside after their eyes met hers. One of Auri’s eyes was human, a deep blue and beautifully normal. The other…
It was a close replica, but not perfect. The blue was a little too light, the pupil not quite matching, the sensors in the iris almost transparent—all together, clearly cyborg.
Something tugged at her hand, and she tensed and spun. The little girl who waved earlier smiled up at her, an enormous backpack looping over her shoulders. Auri relaxed and tried to smile back.
“I like your red hair, Agent-san.” She bowed, the backpack sliding up to bump the back of her head.
Auri grinned despite her fatigue and the heat, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. She always got along better with children, their innocent hearts too young to nurture the world’s prejudices—or its fears. “Thank you. I like yours too.”
“Your doggie is pretty. But she’s working so I can’t pet her, right?”
Auri glanced at Birdie where she sat at her feet, still as a statue, brown eyes on the little girl. “That’s right. Did you learn that in school?”
“Nadoka!” a voice called from the crowd. “Nadoka, where are you?”
The little girl turned, her pink cotton dress swaying around her knees. “That’s my mama. Bye, Agent-san. Bye, Wan-chan!” She hurried away, squeezing through gaps in the crowd. Auri watched her go until she reunited with a petite woman laden with shopping bags. The mother patted the top of Nadoka’s head, pulling a plastic-wrapped rice ball, or onigiri, from a bag and handing it to her. Then the mother and daughter abandoned the onlookers and hurried down a small side street.
Loneliness coiled around Auri’s neck and constricted her throat. Other than their dog, a DISC agent always operated alone, which Auri liked most of the time. But even off the job, there was no one to comfort her. She turned back to the empty sidewalk and strode away to retrieve her borrowed cycle from the skybridge.
Just hours before, she had straddled the machine filled with hope and excitement. Now she felt hollow.
A warm body brushed against her thigh, and Auri smiled down at Birdie as they rode the elevator back up to the skybridge level. “Thank you for your help today. I have a nice treat waiting for you back on the shuttle.”
Birdie’s ears quirked at the word treat, and she turned to look at Auri with pleading eyes, showing just enough of the whites to be heart-rendingly cute.
“I thought that would get your attention.” Auri found the cycle where she’d left it, slung a leg over, and revved the engine.
As she rode the vehicle-only escalator down, she gazed across the canal at the sunset where it peeked between skyscrapers and their
connecting skybridges. In place of drying laundry, early Obon decorations were strung between windows of opposing buildings. Each circular lantern symbolized a loved one lost, a name scrawled in kanji on the outside. In a few days the lanterns would be lit in remembrance. Some would even be launched into the sky at special festivals after hours of games, dancing, and food.
Would anyone remember Tanaka Hiroki?
She took a slow breath, mentally preparing the report she would send to her captain once she boarded her shuttle. He wouldn’t be pleased that she swapped with Agent Hillsdale, especially after her failure. Her organic fingers trembled on the cycle’s handlebar as Hiroki’s last moments replayed in her head. She might’ve saved him if that hallucination hadn’t distracted her, or if she’d let Birdie detain him instead of wanting to do it herself. How would she explain that?
She shook her head. If she let herself think too much, she would cry herself into a puddle. Aurelia Peri was a DISC agent. She needed to act like one.
Though she longed to escape inside her shuttle, she had one last errand. Auri rolled her shoulders and tightened her grip on the
handlebars. Soon she would need to find an MPB officer to get the cycle back to its rightful owner. But for now…
“Birdie, I’ll race you to the takoyaki vendor.”
At race, Birdie took off down the empty sidewalk. Auri laughed. The dog had no idea where they were going.
She lifted her foot from the ground, revved the cycle’s engine again, and hurtled into the sunset, murky water sloshing beside her like a ghostly reminder.
