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CaptainRaspberry — Aeterniad 1.1
Published: 2010-12-03 01:10:19 +0000 UTC; Views: 439; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 0
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//PART ONE
Homecoming
//
1. The Docks
"Fuck you," said Cody Adger after his cell was safely off.
He sighed and slumped further into his chair. His kids wouldn't be coming this weekend for a visit; apparently they had decided of their own volition to remain in Gloucester with their mother, rather than see their father. He and Cath hadn't tried to force the custody issue during their separation, trusting each other to do the right thing.
Well, he'd give Patrick a call later, see about dragging her into court.
The living room, separated from the kitchenette by a waist-high counter, offered at least television to distract him from his woes. He turned it on and it began flipping through his archived favorites. It spent five minutes on the news, recapping stories he had tagged as interesting over the past week. His stomach went cold over the stories of Operoid riots in London, warmed at the sight of some New York cops who were able to catch a serial killer in the act, saving the fourth victim.
It was nice to be one of the good guys.
The TV went on to cycle through comedy channels, cartoons, dramas, but none of it caught his attention. His eyes drifted to a wall-sized bookshelf, crammed full of old bound novels and a handful of low-capacity e-readers. Dust kissed their spines, having gone largely unloved since college.
Out the window, Boston's skyline beckoned, and Adger felt its pull stronger. With his weekend now regretably free, maybe he would just spend it wandering around Town.
He stood, turned off the TV, and went to get dressed when his cell rang. His heart skipped, hoping that maybe Cath had a change of heart, but the ID squashed his hope.
"Morning, Captain," he said.
"Detective." Captain Howley wasn't a morning person. Or an afternoon person. Adger had never spoken with her on weekends and expected that her anti-daylight biases carried over. "We have a developing situation. I need you at the docks."
"Our docks?" There were several dock areas in Boston, only one of which fell under his jurisdiction.
"Yes."
"It's the weekend, Cap. I have the day off."
"Not anymore." Then, like an afterthought, "Sorry."
Adger ran a hand through his hair. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Twenty minutes."
"As soon as I can." He hung up, feeling resentful even though there was nothing else for him to take care of all day. It followed him into the shower, through his morning routine, slowing him down at every step. Nearly an hour later, he came to the dock.
//
When he arrived, he wished he hadn't chosen to dally.
The entire docking area had been cordoned off. A few National Guard troopers were hanging around, looking menacing. Adger flashed his badge, passed through the cordon ring, and made his way through crowds of cops. He recognized a lot of badges from a lot of precincts, even though it was his own district -- C-6 -- that should have had jurisdiction. Or the Port Authority.
Large freighters sat unnaturally still in the calm waters, stacked high with shipping containers spangled with flags and company names from all over the world. These bulkers were the older but more reliable models, Handymax and Panamax, used when nations and corporations were willing to sacrifice speed of transport for security. Still, the ships were showing their age: rust and barnacles up and down the hulls. They were a reminder of an older time that many nations had already done away with. A few holdouts remained, such as Boston, unwilling to let go of what they saw as a still-profitable venture. For all its green pledges, the city held fast to its oldest traditional market.
Finally, Adger came upon the one thing he didn't want to see: his captain. She was standing in a group of crime scene investigators, listening intently to their reports. He measured his steps carefully, hoping to maybe escape unnoticed; but as soon as he passed close enough, Captain Howley's head snapped up to him.
She screwed her face into a sneer. "Nice to see you, Detective. So happy you could make time for us. Have a nice walk?"
Adger decided not to take the bait. "What do we got, sir?"
She nodded her head over her shoulder. "Nine dead dock-workers."
"Nine? All at once? That's a hell of a lot of murder, sir. We got suspects?"
"We've got nothing. And I wanted you here earlier, Detective, because we'll be entertaining the feds while we're trying to get a clue." She glanced over his shoulder. "In fact, I believe that's them now."
Adger looked around. Two figures were making their way over, the crowds of police parting hastily to allow them passage. They were tall, six and a half feet-ish each, and beautiful. Their skin was perfectly smooth, eyes vibrant-near-glowing; one, female, had shoulder-length silver hair, while the other had a deep black crew cut.
They were dressed in street clothes with tac-vests, but they certainly weren't normal. The captain tensed up.
"Gentlemen," the female spoke. "My name is Linda Shain, this is is Frederick Toye. We're with the Special Artificial Tactics Team."
Adger looked them up and down. They didn't look particularly dangerous, just eerie. "I didn't think the SATT actually used skinnies in their investigations."
The tall one, Toye, fixed him with a hard gaze. "Who better to catch an Operoid than another Operoid?"
Adger raised his hands and took a step back. Howley stepped forward. "I'm Captain Howley with the Boston Police Department, attached to the Harbor Unit. This is Detective Adger. I've asked that he be attached to your investigation. This happened in our city, and I want one of ours with you to keep me in the loop."
The detective stared at his captain, but she returned with a look that allowed no argument. Shain watched the silent exchange and pressed its -- her -- lips together. Adger inched closer to Howley. "Uh, Captain, could I have a word?"
"No."
"Walk with us, Detective," said Shain, beckoning him away. "We need to see the crime scene."
They started towards the proper dock area and he fell in behind them, feeling overwhelmed and underprepared. "Uh, agents, I just got here myself, so I don't know much yet."
"It's okay." Toye tapped his temple. "We're downloading the information now."
By the water, four dock-workers were still where they fell, surrounded by marking tape. The Operoids crouched down, each taking a different pair of bodies. They seemed to choose little details at random and communicated to each other with brief glimpses and small twitches of the hands and face. Adger tried to puzzle out what they were searching for, but his questions went unanswered.
Finally, Shain stood up. "Small blade," she muttered. "Base of the neck. Each one."
"Sounds professional."
They moved on to the central coordination building, an old concrete and steel-grated structure that stood at three stories. Faded white letters had been spraypainted on the side, spelling out the name DOBOZ. Adger glanced over his shoulder; it was the same company name as on the metal containers.
Inside were the other five bodies. While the ones outside had been surgical stab wounds, these were different: one was also stabbed, the cut a little wider; he had been sitting up in the control room overlooking the docks. Two had their necks broken, one had been strangled, those three in separate hallways.
The last body drew Adger's attention. It lay in the employee locker room, a gunshot to the head as cause of death. The body was face down on the floor, but judging by the blood spatter, he hadn't been done execution-style. He rolled the body over carefully, examining the entry wound: almost in the exact center of the forehead. The round would have destroyed the entire brain, depending on the caliber -- and it looked to be a big one.
As he stood up from examining the body, Shain and Toye looked down with grim faces. Adger peeled off his gloves. "Whoever did this was a killing machine."
"Probably truer than you think, Detective."
"What do you mean?"
Shain bit her lip. It unnerved Adger to see such a human sign of anxiety on an artificial face. "I think we're looking at a combat model. Maybe more than one, but I can't tell."
"Can't tell? There are nine dead people. You really think just one Operoid could do all this?"
He failed to be reassured by their silence.
"Call your captain," said Shain. "We'll get in touch with our home office." Toye was already walking away, hand to his head. Adger wondered if they had a full communications suite installed in their heads; it made sense, but the thought made him shiver.
He pulled out his cell. "What should I tell her?"
Shain looked at him like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Tell her to wait for us."