Re: Man and Machine (TWS)
12-20-2011, 05:56 AM
goggleman64 Wrote:Sounds to me like changing tacks might be helpful; the How Do You Make a Voicebox Explode tack seems dead for now. I like the idea of either:
1. checking on his activities and purchases, along with checking in on whether the mysterious stranger has been found yet
2. investigating his Netcom and looking into whether King has been found yet.
Gnauga Wrote:Check up with Detective Walden Olivera about the implications of this case on the Bioticists before reviewing the list of patients.You decide to head back to HQ, to see the lab workers and check on a few leads. Itâs obvious that this part of the investigation is going nowhere fast. Maybe having some more angles to work with will bring some new light to the facts youâve gathered thus far.
You bid Doctor Munroe goodbye and head out the back way, avoiding the protesters out front.
---
NASBELB Headquarters is, to be honest, a rather unimpressive building, considering it coordinates law enforcement for the entire city. Itâs a tall, drab skyscraper, unornamented but for the vast holo-signs identifying it, and for the ads that float about it, vying for the attention of passing drivers. The Bureauâs insignia is two crossed swords, overlaid with a circular shield, the shield being engraved with the Bureauâs initials. The badges assigned to officers, however, only incorporate the shield itself, which you always thought was a little odd.
You park on one of the middle levels and walk over to the elevators.
You turn to Evan. âIâm going to talk to Olivera, if heâs here. Would you mind running down to the lab, and seeing what theyâve got for us?â
Evan nods. âSounds good.â
âOh, before I forgetâ¦â You pull out the victimâs NetCom and hand it over to Evan. âSee if thereâs anything useful on there. Itâs from the victimâs luggage.â
Evan looks at it curiously, then puts it into a coat pocket. He moves off to another elevator.
You do the same, taking the elevator up several floors to the Civil Protection Unitâs offices.
You flash your badge at the officer on duty at the front desk, and he nods you on through. You walk down a short hallway to the main office space, where a number of desks are arrayed across the room. A few people glance up at you curiously before going back to what they were doing. You look around for Oliveraâs office, and see it on the opposite wall, a windowed door with Oliveraâs name on it. You walk on over, and are just about to knock on the door when you hear a gravelly voice from within.
âCome on in!â
Shrugging, you do so.
He looks up at you, smiling, from his desk. Olivera is a few years older than you, youâd guess, but still quite fit. Short and, for lack of a better word, stout, heâs built like a bulldog. His dark hair has only a few traces of silver in it, and his face is clean shaven, and almost fatherly looking. He furrows his brow for a second before snapping his fingers and saying, âDetective⦠Case, right?â When you nod, he continues, âHah! Never forget a face. What can I do for you, Detective?â
You take the seat he gestures to.
You decide to plunge on in. âThe reason Iâm here concerns a murder down at the hopper port in East Central, that happened this morning.â
He frowns, an expression that doesnât really seem to fit his genial face. âIâve only heard a little bit about that. Sounded bad, though.â
âYou could say that. Our victimâs throat exploded.â
Oliveraâs eyes widen. âWhat.â
âTell me about it. It looks like he had an implant, a voice box, that was somehow sabotaged.â
âAnd it exploded? Thatâs just about the damndest thing Iâve ever heard.â
âHmph. I came to you because I suspect that thereâs a chance this could have been intended to rile up the bioticists.â
Oliveraâs frown returns, deeper this time. âUgh. Well, if thatâs the intent, then it would certainly do the job. How much do you know about the bioticists?â
You shrug. âJust what Iâve heard on the news and around HQ.â
Olivera nods. âThen youâve probably just heard about the small timers, the protesters, those types. And theyâre a problem. But the biggest worry is the core of the group, the inner circle. Whereas the underlings support them for any number of reasons, the inner circle has an almost cult-like feeling to it. We havenât been able to get a whole lot on them, but what weâve seen and heard isnât good. Theyâre very well organized, very paranoid, and zealously devoted to their cause, which is the removal of cybernetics from our society, in its entirety.â
âI hear youâve had trouble infiltrating the inner circle.â
âYes. Theyâre damn suspicious, and far too clever. I donât know how they do it, but they always seem to spot our agents a mile away, no matter how careful we are.â He shakes his head. âBut back to your question, itâs hard to say how theyâll react when news gets out. Oh, the inner circle will no doubt make a bunch of noise about it, and there may be some staged protesting and such that they openly organize, but we should probably be more worried about the street level members in this case. As I said, they join for a variety of reasons, but theyâre very devoted to their cause, and they arenât as disciplined or organized as the inner circle. I doubt thereâll be any violence so long as this is an isolated incident, but if it isnât⦠we could face riots, belligerent protest in front around the major cybernetics companies buildings, or maybe even targeted violence against those with implants, in the most extreme case. And the inner circle would make a big deal out of asking their followers to be calm and comply with the authorities⦠while they no doubt fan the flames in secret.â
âThen I suppose weâd better make sure it remains an isolated case.â
Olivear smiles without a whole lot of humor. âPlease do. Just in case, Iâll put in some calls to the higher ups to see if we can put extra surveillance on known members, and on any place where theyâre likely to target. Maybe we can keep it from getting out of hand if it does get that far.â
âSounds like a plan.â
âOh, here.â Olivera flicks on his NetCom and sends you something. âMy personal contact info. If you need any more info on the bioticists, just give me a call. Or, if you have anything that might help meâ¦â
âWill do.â
You both stand up and shake hands.
âThank you for your time.â
Olivera nods. âAny time, Detective. Any time.â
As you leave, your watch vibrates. You open it up, and find Evan has sent you a message.
Evan Wrote:Get down to the lab ASAP. Youâll want to see this.Well, that sounds promising.
You head on down to the homicide lab. Evan is waiting for you as you get off of the elevator. He wordlessly gestures for you to follow. You tail him to one of the examination rooms, where most of your victimâs cadaver is lying on an autopsy table. You see the tell-tale wavering of a clean field around it. The medical examiner and her younger assistant are here, looking at a holodisplay on the wall. It shows⦠well, a bunch of funny circley, squiggly things, in red and black. You assume they came out of the victim. You⦠werenât a biology major, obviously.
âAh, Detective.â The medical examiner beckons you over, and points at the display. âI think youâll find this interesting.â
You look at the display for a moment. âYes, interesting. Very. What is it?â
Evan smiles softly and says, âOur murder weapon.â
âWhat?â
He points at one of the black circles. âNanomachines. They must have been used to reconfigure the victimâs implant and force it to detonate.â
âWhat!?â You canât hide your shock. âBut I thought nanotechnology wasnât in production!â
âIt isnât.â The medical examiner sounds mildly annoyed, which in your experience seems to be the tone she reverts to when she doesnât understand something immediately. âThere are only a few companies that even experiment with nanotechnology. Theyâve gotten some interesting results, but nothing to warrant mass production or widespread use. And these⦠these are highly advanced.â
âThe doctor has checked them against every resource we have. They donât match any manufacturerâs known hallmarks, they donât have any kind of identification, nothing we can trace.â
âIâve been looking through patent files and any documentation I could get my hands on for hours.â The medical examiner shakes her head. âI havenât found anything.â
âWe do know how the nanites got into the victimâs system, though.â Evan walks over to the body, and turns over the left hand.
You lean closer, the clean fieldâs wavering membrane making it difficult for your eyes to adjust. You donât see anything.
âHere.â The medical examinerâs assistant brings over a magnifying glass, and holds it over the bodyâs left palm.
There, in the very center, you can just make out the most minute of pinpricks.
âSo thatâs how the nanomachines got into the victimâs body?â
Evan nods. âAnd, I think youâll recall Miss Whitaker saying our mystery suspect ran into him and then helped him up. How much do you care to wager that he used his left hand? Unfortunately, there werenât any fingerprints to recover. That would have made things much easierâ¦â
Interesting. So, it looks like your unknown suspect somehow injected you victim with nanites while âhelpingâ him up at the hopper port. Which means that he must have access to some very high-tech resources. You donât exactly find this comforting.
âAnd it was definitely his implant.â The medical examiner sounds unhappy with her discovery. âThe voice box was mangled, and there were burns in the tissue around the epicenter that happened before our victimâs death. The concentration of nanites in the area is much higher than anywhere else in the body, too.â
âWhat else have we got?â
âWell,â Evan begins, âI checked the victimâs NetCom. Unfortunately, there wasnât much to find. His bank account hasnât shown any unusual spending outside of the tickets for his trip and a few things that turned out to be luxury items and new clothes, presumably for said trip. There werenât any unusual phone calls, in fact the only ones in the last three weeks were to Miss Whitaker, the clinic, and the hopper port. His NetMail was mostly filled with advertisements. All in all, it didnât look like he used the Com very much, which is probably why he left it in his luggage.â
âThatâs somewhat disappointing.â
âYes.â
âWhat about our mystery suspect? And that King guy Whitaker mentioned?â
âKing was easy. Heâs actually one of the lead programmers for the Simulacrum. Donovan Bolton is his real name. Apparently heâs quite good. Heâs only twenty-seven and he already runs an entire unit.â
You grunt.
âOur mystery suspect has been less easy. There was nothing last I checked.â
You decide to go check how the researchers are faring. You leave the examination room and walk to a nearby tech room. There are several researchers here, bent forward with their noses almost touching their displays, flipping through information far faster than you can follow. Researchers are almost universally pale, a fact that isnât helped any by their sterile white uniforms. All of them have cranial implants of some type, and their heads are shaved to make them easier to keep clean. Their eyes are augmented as well, meaning they, among other things, can look in two directions at once. To be honest, âsearchers always gave you the creeps. As you watch, two of them begin subvocalizing to each other across the room, their silent conversation not distracting them from their work for even a second. Evan walks over to one young woman sitting in the corner and gently touches her on the shoulder. One eye swivels to regard him for a second before going back to her work.
âDetective E5-715. It is a pleasure. I see Detective William Case is accompanying you. I assume this concerns the violent decapitation of Dirk Anderson at East Central Hopper Port Number Three Three Four Seven.â Her voice is flat and almost uninterested, and not for even a second does she cease typing or reading.
âYes.â If Evan finds this as weird as you do, he gives no indication. Neither do you, for that matter. Professional conduct and all. But stillâ¦
âYou have already been given all information regarding Donovan Bolton also known as King. Unknown subject remains elusive. Appearance matches no known criminal on file, I must search commercial facial recognition databases. It is⦠tiring. Please wait.â
Evan steps back to stand next to you. You both watch as the researcher does her work. After a few minutes, she holds up one hand and beckons you over. As you look over her shoulder, she pulls up a picture or your mystery suspect.
âToby Rayt. Age thirty two. Currently unemployed. Last known residence, West District, 3742 Procyon Square.â
That far west? Not a nice part of town.
âNo criminal record. No known family members. No known associates. The lack of information leads me to believe that this identity is engineered. I will attempt to uncover more intel. It may take some time.â
You nod, but Evan gestures for you to wait.
He turns back to her. âWe received a list of patients from the clinic where the victim worked. Could you go over it for us.â
âSend it to me.â
Evan does so. She pulls it up in a smaller window to the side, scans it quickly, and begins opening several other windows and beginning more searches.
âIf you find anything, let us know.â
She swivels an eye to look at you. âOf course.â
You sensed, perhaps, just a tinge of sarcasm, there.
Well, youâve gotten a couple of breakthroughs, anyway. Now, you just have to decide what to do next. Obviously youâll want to check out Raytâs place before long, but you could also track down Bolton and talk to him. And there may be things you want to check on here before you go.
Spoiler