Ty, a shift manager with an alcoholic wife, creates a female replicant in a dystopia veering toward full mechanization. For Ty, the surreal drudgery of working in a retail environment is interrupted when robotic interfaces are installed at his job...
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Pen greeted him, introducing Ty to the officials. The man's name was Agent Zeemo and the woman's name was Agent Crendan.
"The agents need to ask you a few questions."
Pen's manner was neutral, certainly not accusatory, and Ty relaxed somewhat. The questions Crendan and Zeemo asked him also relaxed him: What time did you leave the store? (10:30) Any suspicious activity prior to leaving? (no) Did he notice any citizens lingering around after closing? (no)
Media pundants and tech were in the habit of addressing people as "citizens". Technically, it was a term that described the average citizen, but Ty felt it to be an odd term to bring into everyday use.
"What are these questions about?"
Out of view of the agents, Pen shook his head at Ty.
Agent Crendan reached down at her side, and Ty feared she was reaching for her weapon. When she brought out a clear rectangle known as an interface, he was able to breathe again.
"Do you know this woman?" Crendan held up the interface to display a picture of a doe-eyed woman in a Grecian costume, her dark skin contrasting beautifully against the white fabric of the dress.
"I don't know her."
Ty's statement was factually true, but he didn't have to meet the woman to know at one glance she was his proxy. He hoped they couldn't tell he was sweating like a hooker post-hump.
"Bio-metric scans on her bring up nothing," Agent Zeemo said.
"I didn't know scans were in such wide use," Ty said, not because he cared about the retinal scans police tried to force on suspects, but because he was looking for something, anything to say.
"Our databases aren't as full as they will be in the years to come, but they're getting there," Zeemo said.
"Have you submitted a voluntary scan to the local affiliates?" Crendan picked up the conversation from her partner.
Oh, shit. "Not yet."
"If you'd like, we can do it right here." Crendan produced a phallic device from her jacket pocket, similar to a pen in size.
"We really need to open the store soon," Pen said, saving Ty the denial. "And those other two guys still have questions for Ty, right?"
There are more of these bastards pokin' around the store?
Crendan pocketed her bio-metric scanner. "No, we can do that via interface later."
The two agents nodded to Ty before leaving. Their departure left a cloak of silence over the small office.
Pen was the first to speak.
"That poor girl." Ty waited for his boss to elaborate. "I found her asleep here in the back room, huddled under coats from the lost and found for warmth. She had no memory, no name...she was scared. You sure you didn't see her in here last night? Is it possible she could have hidden somewhere while you were closing?"
Ty couldn't tell whether Pen was asking a question beneath the question. Surely he had seen the video feed from the night before, but if he had, he would have shared it with the State officials. Then, their meeting with Ty would have gone differently. Until Ty knew where Pen stood, he decided to take the questions at face value.
"No, I didn't see her at all, didn't notice anything weird, like I told the agents." Ty crossed his arms and tried to pose the next question casually. "By the way, why were the State officials here? What happened to good ol' regular police?"
"Now, Ty. With all these random shootings the police can't seem to handle, another agency has to step in, curb the chaos."
An edge crept into Pen's voice, an edge Ty took as sarcasm. The man was conservative in his politics, but reasonable. He hadn't openly converted to the Prominent Party.
"Where's the girl?" Ty asked.
"At the hospital!" Where else would she be, was Pen's unspoken reply.
"Right."
Pen handed Ty a small stack of papers. "After you get off work today, you're gonna go see her?"
The papers slipped from his hands, and he scrambled to retrieve them. "What-what-why-would I do that?"
Pen raised an eyebrow. "All I meant was, if you do go see her, I need you to take her those papers."
Ty continued gathering the papers in question. "What are these for?"
"They're hiring papers." Pen put his hand up, cutting off Ty's stuttering responses. "Like I said, I found this girl hungry, cold, and scared in my back room. What else can I do? I thought at first she was a drug addict, but she's not. And she's not a thief or a terrorist, so yeah, I offered her a job. Anyway, Halloween's coming up," he added, as if Good Time's biggest hiring season was his greatest motivator behind a job offer to a vagrant.
"Okay, if you think it's a good idea," Ty said slowly. "I'll go visit the girl in the hospital."
"Great." Pen stood up. "And do me another favor while you're there."
"What's that?"
"Find out her damn name."
Ty grinned. "Yes, sir."
~*~
A/N: Dedicated to another writer interested in promoting diverse fiction, rmcneary
Speaking of diverse fiction, check out his epic fantasy series, The Path of Light and Fire, starting with book 1:
