It Sometimes Snows In May: A B.E.A.N. Police Novella (6 page)

“Huh?”

“It’s the latest thing in the bazaar. Unemployed and aspiring actors are getting cybernetics to play any a-list actor they can dream of. It’s their edge to break into the biz. They can be anybody you want them to be.” James smiles.

“How much is that gonna set me back?”

“If you have to ask…” James lays a net-paper on the table facing Ryles.

Ryles glances at the price matrix. Her eyes widen. “I’ll take my chances.”

“I figured as much,” James says.

“How much do I owe you?” Ryles asks.

“three-fifty,” James says. “And before you have a little heart attack, that includes first and last month’s rent for the furnished house.”

Ryles sighs. “Where?”

“I know what you’re thinking. It ain’t no mansion. But, it’s a nice and respectable, everyone-minds-their-own-damn-business neighborhood in New Neasden.”

“Okay.” Ryles pulls out a department store shopping bag from under the bed, and holds it against her. “There’s three in here…”

James frowns.

“I wasn’t expecting that much, and it’s all I can get right now, without raising alarms.” Ryles stares at James and watches him size her up. “It’s in cash James, and you know that ain’t easy.”

“I’m impressed.”

“You’ll even be more impressed, when you count it.” Ryles closes the space between herself and James to about a meter.

“Hey, I’m old school,” James says. “You know I’m gonna count it.” He continues to study Ryles. James grabs the bag from Ryles and immediately feels the weight. He pulls it up and peeks inside. “I hope he’s worth it.” James smiles.

Ryles squeezes James shoulder as he leaves. Then closes the door behind him. “Thanks dad.”

Ryles pulls down the street in a hover-car, from a tall glass and metal, cone-shaped building. She glances at her PDA as the vehicle auto-parks. The time on the marquee display belonging to the bank across the street, reads 12:07 PM. Ryles heads towards the gleaming tower with, ISPARI STATE GUARD HEADQUARTERS, in neon, scrolling across the main entrance.

As she climbs the front stairs, miscellaneous uniformed and non-uniformed personnel and citizens march out and stroll in by her. Some pass her a casual glance as she fans her chest in the noonday heat.

Once Ryles passes the sliding door she’s scanned by an electronic eye above the main sliding doors, and is then greeted by a virtual female desk
guardie
.

“Welcome to Ispari State Guard Headquarters, Misses Brown. How may I be of service today?” The virtual
guardie
asks.

“I’m here to see...Morefishco, about my missing brother,” Ryles says. She looks at her PDA to double-check the name.

“One moment please.” The virtual
guardie
blinks her eyes in time with the data processing she’s performing. After few moments, a copy of the virtual
guardie
appears beside Ryles. “Follow me, please.”

Ryles tries not to look alarmed and follows the virtual
guardie
copy to the smart lift. They are carried silently up several floors. When the smart lift doors slide open, a lean but muscular, caucasian man in his late fifties in uniform, awaits them.

“Guard Morefishco. This way Misses Maria Brown,” the virtual
guardie
says.

“Thanks Vidge.” Morefishco watches the virtual
guardie
dematerialize. “Afternoon, Misses Brown. Thank you for coming. This way please.” Morefishco begin down the hall, but waits for Ryles to catch up before getting too far ahead.

“When can I see my brother?”

Morefishco casts Ryles a looks. “We just have to take care of some minor bureaucratic details.”

“Like what?”

“I’m sure this is a lot to take in, but we have to go through a quick ID verification process. Just a formality. I can’t tell you how many times some missing guy turns up, and half the women in Ispari show up claiming to be a wife, girlfriend, or grandmother.” They both walk past an office with ISG. M. Morefishco glowing within the glass of the door.

“Yeah..It is a lot,” Ryles says.

Morefishco leads Ryles into a room with camoglass. Ryles can feel her neck turn warm. “Why are we here? Where is my brother?” Ryles asks.

“Please sit down Misses Brown.” Morefishco gestures towards the chair opposite him and then waits until Ryles sits down, before doing the same. “For security, I need to verify some information. The man we have in custody doesn’t know his own name.” Morefishco pauses and stares at Ryles, who in turn leans forward in her chair.

“What? He doesn’t know who I am?” Ryles points a finger towards her chest. "When he sees my face..."

“Can I see some identification, Misses Brown. A quick scan should speed this up for both of us,” Morefishco says.

Ryles pulls her Maria Brown license out of her bag, and places it on the table in front of Morefishco, showing off her manicure. A neon blue square appears within the table and shrinks, until is perfectly fits the perimeter of the license. Morefishco slides the net-paper, card stock off the table, and studies it for several moment occasionally glancing back at her.

Suddenly, a display rises out of the table, visible only to Morefishco. It begins scrolling information of Mary Brown of Ispari. The record includes a residence address, vehicle registration, and some traffic violations. Towards the end, the record shows social networking records. “What’s your brother’s name?”

“Roberto.” Ryles stares at Morefishco who is still scanning the record.

Morefishco taps on a relationship link leading to Roberto Brown; the third Brown on the list. The image renders. It resembles a clean-cut version of the John Doe Morefishco has in custody.

“You’ll be happy to hear you’re not one of the usual characters we get.” Morefishco taps the top edge of the display firmly. The display powers itself off, and then slowly slides back into its place embedded in the table

“Nice to know,” Ryles says.

Morefishco studies Ryles for a moment. “I’m curious Misses Brown, where did you file a missing persons report for your brother? I didn’t find any record of one being filed in the state.”

“My brother kinda does his own thing. It’s not unlike him to fly off to Brazil for a month and not tell anybody. I didn’t know he was missing until I saw him on TV.”

“I see.” Morefishco gave Ryles an even expression. “I guess you guys aren’t close then?” Ryles responded with a scowl. “Sorry, occupational hazard. I can’t help but ask.”

“No, we don’t swap recipes or bitch about our exes,” Ryles says.

“What about his family?” Morefishco leaned in, resting his forearms on the table.

“Family?”

Morefishco recoiled. “You know...Wife, ex-wife, kids, a dog, a cat, a snake… People who might give a crap if he was missing for three months.”

Ryles lowered her head, and hunched over, which inadvertently made her look softer to Morefishco; less
I-don’t-need-no-man
, and more
I-got-problems-but-doesn’t-everyone.
I’m the only
family
he’s got left.

A light on the top of the display in the table glows green. Morefishco pushes down on the top of the display which toggles it back up to face him. “Can I speak with you sir? It’s important”,  appears in an alert message on the screen. Morefishco stares at the message for a moment, then closes the display.

“Are we done?” Ryles asks.

“Almost. I’ll be right back.” Morefishco exits the interrogation room from a different door than they had entered, and walks into a back room where a junior
guardie
and John are waiting.

A bony young man rises at Morefishco’s entrance into the room. “He said he recognized her.”

Morefishco turns to John. “This is your sister?”

“Well, I remember her face…”

“Is she your sister, or isn’t she?” Morefishco’s face turns pink.

“I remember her face” John nods “And her voice.”

Morefishco scowls at the junior
guardie
. “You interrupted my interrogation for this? I remember the voice of President Obama; doesn’t make him my cousin.”

“It’s what I remember,” John says. He walks to the one-way camoglass separating and obscuring the inner room from the outer room where he stands. The glass is cool to his touch as his presses his palms against it, and stares at the mocha-skinned woman.

“Patel, you know how many weirdos we’ve had in here since the broadcast? I almost regret authorizing it,” Morefishco says.

“I know this, but she is the only one he
recognized
,” Guard Patel says.

“I’ll bet,” Morefishco hisses.

“You can’t prove she not my sister.” John turns to Morefishco. Guard Patel swallows. Morefishco can’t see his tan face go crimson.

“And you can’t prove she’s not one of the bandits that put you on ice!” Morefishco stands in front of John. “Did you ever think of that?” The room is silent.

“If it makes you feel better, you can keep an eye on me. I mean her. Well, us…” John says.

“And waste more taxpayers’ bitcash? I don’t think so.” Morefishco steps out of in front of John and extends his hand to the door separating them from Ryles. “Go say hi to your sister.” Patel’s eyes widen, but Morefishco doesn’t react to it. He open’s the inner door, and lets John through.

Morefishco and Patel watch as John walks in and begins to observe Brown. The inner door slides shut, separating them.

Ryles watches a thinner but healthier Zota walk towards her. He cracks a half-smile and shuffles his feet. At about a foot from the table, he puts out a hand on the chair opposite Ryles. Immediately Ryles rises from her seat and runs around the table, reaching for Zota. She places her hands on each sides of his face and then hesitates before slipping them around his neck. Her eyes water as she pulls him into a fierce hug.

From the inner room Morefishco and Patel watch the embrace, and then at each other. “That don’t mean frack, Patel. Get a cyberdog and track them.” Before Patel could protest, Morefishco waved him down. “Got a warrant, and had him chipped and coded while he was still under. I’m not taking any chance.”

“You do not believe Misses Brown is his sister?” Patel asked.

“Your sister ever hug you like that?” Morefishco asked. Patel shook his head. “She’s no body bandit, but by the look of her, she’s been around the block more than a few times, and I’m sure she knows how to handle trouble.”

“Really? What if the people those...body bandits come after him?” Patel asked.

“That’s what I’m counting on?”

Zota and Ryles walk out of the headquarters building. The sun low in the sky makes Ryles shield her eyes, until her sunglasses can auto-adjust. She moves briskly, slightly ahead of Zota.

             
“Are you sure you’re not my sister?”

              “Damn. The
guardie
wasn’t kidding when he said you lost your memory.” Ryles glances behind her as they cross the street towards her ground vehicle.

Three figures dressed like
excretas,
after a long day at the plant, join two others on the side of the street Ryles crossed to.