Nic Brooner started work early to beat the morning rush. The dense urban streets of New Cali were less crowded with people at dawn, but the number of Tommy Cops remained static. The robots were everywhere, and the ruling elite kept thousands more mothballed in warehouses ready to be activated on a moment’s notice. Street level protest was explicitly prohibited, and political agitators dealt with swiftly. Freedom of speech was non-existent for the human working class, though the elite could do or say almost anything without fear of consequence. Criminality was only seen as a problem when the offense was committed by the unconnected.
Brooner took a seat at his desk and turned on his computer. After checking his official email, he clicked on his daily docket. The first item was a Tommy Cop report on an incident that occurred the previous night. It was earmarked for his immediate attention because it involved an attempted abduction in the red-light district.
An apparent street walker named Spencer Schepps, the victim, had been approached by suspect number one, Corbin Jolla. While Jolla engaged him in conversation, suspect number two, Ming Péng, slipped behind him, planted an auto-injector on the back of his neck and pulled the trigger. As Schepps lost consciousness, the two suspects hustled him into the backseat of a nearby SUV.
It was a familiar MO, except this time the incident was observed live by two undercover Tommy Cops on stakeout. They called for back-up and though the perpetrators tried to flee, the SUV was stopped cold after multiple black and whites rushed to the scene and boxed it in.
An additional suspect remained in the passenger seat of the SUV during the attempted abduction. Brooner bolted upright in his seat when he read the third suspect’s name: Cynthia Zen Waverly. He was astonished, because she’d placed herself at the scene of the crime, and this time, they’d caught her in the act. He’d previously used facial recognition to ID Jolla and Péng in the Philo Cristaldi abduction, still an open, unresolved file.
Brooner picked up his desk phone and called the jail: “This is Inspecter Brooner from investigations, are you holding Cynthia Zen Waverly? She was arrested last night.”
“Let me check that for you, sir,” said the Tommy Cop who’d picked up the call. He put Brooner on hold and returned a few moments later. “Yes, she’s still in holding. Scheduled for a bail hearing at 10:00 am.”
“Move her into an interview room. I’m on my way down.”
“Yessir.”
Brooner rode the elevator down to the subterranean jail level. Windowless and forbidding, the basement smelled like dirty socks, disinfectant, and bad food.
He checked out Waverly through the one-way glass before he went inside. She looked angry and old as the devil in her bright orange jumpsuit. Fatigued too. Could have been high on coke when the incident went down, but stone cold sober now and in need of a caffeine fix.
He stepped through the door, pushed it closed, and sat down at the stainless-steel table. He set the manila folder holding the case file on the tabletop in front of him.
“Looks like you’re in trouble, Suzy.”
She glared at him irately. “I stopped using that name a long time ago.”
“Your criminal record is still filed under Suzy Hongo.” He picked up the case file and gestured towards it. “The heroin and cocaine trafficking, and ten-year stretch in prison.”
“And your name, sir?”
“Inspector Nic Brooner, senior detective with the New Cali PD.” He pulled open his sport jacket to show her his badge. “I’m in felony investigations, the serious stuff.”
“Well, Inspector Brooner, my attorney is enroute from the Eden Stacks and he’ll have me out of this wretched hellhole in record time.”
“I have inside information about your activities at the Eden Stacks, Suzy. The kidnapped prostitutes held against their will, and the sexual torture you promote on your so-called fantasy floor.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, and beyond that, the Eden Stacks are not in your jurisdiction. What takes place in Mellowbreak Beach is not your concern.”
“But the abductions in New Cali are my concern. And this is the second time we’ve placed Jolla and Péng at the scene of one. What happened to Philo Cristaldi? Has he outlived his usefulness in your house of horrors yet, Ms. Hongo?”
She remained stony-faced, but Brooner sensed her growing unease.
“There must be some way we could dispense with the difficulties, Inspector. Perhaps a generous contribution to a personal reserve of yours?”
“I don’t work that way, and I need to warn you that attempting to bribe a public official is a serious offense.”
“Of course.”
“But if you want to help me build another case, it’s possible you could trade up. Say, fill me in on the details of Dr. Liang Hao’s ongoing trafficking in underage Asian sex slaves, heroin, and illicit weaponry…Then, maybe we could make an arrangement.”
“Dr. Hao is an upstanding businessman and I’m quite shocked at your allegations.”
“Sure, you are.” Brooner rolled his eyes. “Accessory to kidnapping is a serious offense. You need to give me something I can work with.”
She acquired a sly smile. “I do have some information you might be interested in, and you can do what you want with it, because quite frankly, I have no fear of your judicial system. I’m quite sure my attorney can contact the appropriate people. Our local connections rise as high as the Melrose Committee.”
Brooner knew her last statement was accurate. Heigle had told him as much. But what was it that she was willing to cough up? Must be something juicy about one of her enemies. “Lay it on me then, Suzy.”
“A couple of clowns out in Vegas are stealing water from the Colorado River Pipeline.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Logan Writt and Myles Deloof. They’ve sold us over a million gallons of treated water in the last few months”
“How are they getting the water to the Eden Stacks?”
“In tanker trucks owned by Deloof. Writt is the brains behind the operation.”
“How do you know the water is from the Colorado River Pipeline?”
“Because it’s the only place they could be getting it from.”
“If you’re benefitting from the sales, why are you clueing me in?”
“Because I cut them off when I realized they were selling us stolen resources,” she responded with the wandering eyes of a habitual liar.
“Your story sounds far-fetched, Suzy. If what you say is true, don’t you think someone in New Cali would have picked it up by now?
“My attorney thinks Writt hacked into the control system and may be feeding it falsified data to cover his tracks.”
A knock came at the door. Brooner opened it to find a Tommy Cop. Though identical to the rest, the robot’s name tag said Bob. “The suspect’s attorney has arrived and he says it’s quite urgent for him to speak with Ms. Waverly in person. The statute says she has a right to counsel.”
“Yeah, okay, Bob. Thanks.” He turned towards Waverly before departing. “I’ll look into the alleged tip you provided, but it sounds awfully sketchy.”
Brooner rode the elevator to the upper floors, but before returning to his office, he stopped in at the cyber-crimes unit. He usually went to a young IT expert named Art Fujikawa with his tech questions. Brooner asked him to check the city water system for any anomalies in the supply provided by the Colorado River Pipeline. A complete set of data appeared on his monitor within seconds.
“Everything looks normal, Nic,” said Fujikawa. “It’s a closely monitored system on both ends because the water is purchased from the Rocky Mountain Imperium. Any discrepancy between the upstream and downstream stations would show up in the flow reports.”
“What entity monitors the flow reports?”
“NMS. The Network Management System.”
“Who monitors the NMS?”
“No live actors. It’s wholly automated.”
“Could someone hack into the system and feed it falsified data to cover theft?”
“I’d put the probability of that at close to zero, Nic. The NMS has built in safeguards against malicious entry just like the operating system on your PC. It’s a whole lot more advanced though, because of the size of the system.”
“But only close to zero? So, there is a chance someone could hack into the NMS?”
“It’s within the realm of possibility but highly unlikely. It’s considered a secure network.”
“If a malicious hacker was able to take control of the NMS, how much damage could he do? In a worst-case scenario?”
“Break the entire city.”
“Because everything in New Cali is controlled by the NMS. Including the Tommy Cops.”
“Correct.”
Brooner returned to his office. He researched current conditions in what had once been known as Las Vegas, Nevada, before the collapse. Though technically part of the federal bureaucracy, there was no local government or law enforcement. The only known commercial entity still in the basin was a hydrogen electrolysis plant owned by a Czech named Stanislav Latsko. He founded the enterprise prior to the collapse. The plant was the only place for transports to refuel for hundreds of miles, so it was essential for trade between New Cali and the northlands. Latsko had the market cornered. It was obvious why he’d remained at the location.
But where was the water coming from? Alkaline electrolysis consumed large amounts of H2O. Electricity, too. Using hydrogen fuel to generate electricity and in turn produce more hydrogen fuel made no sense, so was he using wind or solar to produce the electricity?
Latsko had a sideline selling agricultural products to New Cali as well. Mostly fresh vegetables and meat for the retail market. Where was he coming up with the groceries? That revelation raised yet more suspicion.
Brooner accessed up to date satellite imagery and asked his AI to analyze it for indication of current commercial activity. The electrolysis plant was the first thing highlighted by the program, and when he zoomed in on it, he could see it was a sizeable operation with a fortified perimeter. He was quick to note there was no sign of wind or solar electricity generation.
The next thing the AI picked up was activity around two former golf courses. When he enlarged the display, he could see how one of the golf courses had been converted to a working farm and the other appeared to be under construction. So that’s where Latsko was getting his food products…But where was the water coming from? Commercial farming used huge amounts of water, and it looked like a housing development had been refurbished and occupied as well.
Brooner checked the clock. It was closing in on 10:00 am and he wanted to attend Waverly’s bail hearing. He took the elevator to the ground floor, crossed the street, and entered the courthouse. He found the hearing room and sat down in the gallery. Anthony Eckhard, a deputy district attorney, was seated at the prosecution’s counsel table. He was a known stooge for the Melrose Committee, common in New Cali city government. The corrupt yes men grew on trees at city hall.
Heath Kolacki was seated at the defense table to Eckhard’s left. Brooner knew him as a heavyweight in the Eden Stacks. He’d been linked to organized crime in more than one investigation, but he’d never been charged or convicted.
When the Tommy Cops brought Waverly in, Brooner was certain she was about to get off scot-free. Because she was already dressed in her street clothes and wore a carefree smile. No handcuffs, and she took a seat at the defense table.
A few moments later, Judge Marvin Mazziotta entered the room and took a seat at the bench. “In the matter of the People of the New Cali Directorate vs. Cynthia Zen Waverly: Though the kidnapping and assault charges against Corbin Jolla and Ming Péng may have prima facie merit, Ms. Waverly appears to have been an uninvolved bystander who may have been present at the scene through force or some type of unknown duress. No evidence points to the defendant as a willing accessory to the alleged crime. Therefore, all charges against Ms. Waverly are hereby dismissed.”
Brooner looked to Eckhard to see if he would lodge a prosecution protest, but he cast his eyes downward and fiddled with his paperwork instead. He said nothing. No mention of the fact that Jolla and Péng were employed by the defendant as bodyguards, and Brooner was not surprised. The fix was in and Suzy Hongo was walking. He’d probably participated in the apparent backroom deal.
Brooner returned to his office on the upper floors of police headquarters. The Waverly investigation looked like a dead horse going nowhere, but he was intrigued by her allegations against Logan Writt. An in-person investigation would be the only way to prove anything, but it would be far too dangerous to go out there alone. It was unlikely Heigle would approve his participation anyway, so he’d need to come up with a replicant on the sly.
□□□
Waverly and Kolacki boarded the Guardians’ private jet and took seats in the luxurious cabin. When the aircraft attained cruising altitude, they removed their seatbelts. A grub attendant served them drinks and a snack platter.
“Thanks for responding so quickly and securing my release, Heath.”
“Nothing to it, Cynthia. A telephone call to Benton Alshami was all it required. I promised him a complimentary visit to your fantasy floor.”
“That will be fine. Anything from the surveillance drones?”
“They tailed the convoy to Deloof’s farm, but the batteries were down to 55% when they arrived, so I brought them back before they had a chance to look around.”
“It makes no difference at this point. If Writt wants to end our relationship, I’m certainly not going to beg him to come back.”
“It’s apparent we can’t trust him anyway.”
“I agree and the missing grubs may be hard to replace.”
“What about the deficit in our water supply? Any ideas on that?”
“I think a desalination plant may reside in our future, Heath.”
“Expensive, but it may be our only option. I’ll talk to Dr. Hao about the specifics.”
To be continued…