Cognitive Deviance

2. Officer Holloway

March 23, 2045 - 9:45 AM

Carl sat in the police van alone. A holographic screen glowed on the wall on his opposite side playing the news. He had no interest in what the TV had to say, but given the fact he was in a self-driving van, he had no driver to talk to. So he spent the next few minutes studying his Fatemaker, the futuristic handgun every Psychwatch officer had the responsibility of owning.

A streak of light flashed across the gun's jet-black barrel, alternating between green and orange depending on its mode. Just one press of the button could activate its Incapacitate mode or Execute mode. All that was required to unleash the true potential of this weapon was his thumbprint on the ID scanner and a single thought: What mode is most appropriate for this situation?

"You have arrived at your destination," the van's robotic voice said as the vehicle slowed to a stop. "Your fellow officers await."

"Thanks, generic lady voice," Carl replied. He held his Fatemaker against his MagniSheath until the magnetic claw clasped around his gun like cuffs. He rose from his seat and pushed through the van doors.

He was greeted by the gray afternoon sky. Rows of dilapidated brick buildings lined the road from one end to the other, not a single SanityScan in sight. Out in the distance he could see the downtown Philadelphia skyline rising above the rest of the world like mountains. Even though he had been to the Psycho Slums hundreds of times, he still couldn't get over how different it was from the rest of the city. Two different worlds: one that couldn't live without Psychwatch and another that couldn't care less about bonding with its life-changing developments.

"Maslow!" Carl heard his colleague Royce call. "Over here!"

Focus on your job, payaso, Catalina said from the depths of Carl's mind.

"Hey, what did I say about dissociating?" Carl told her. He didn't wait for a response and instead joined his colleagues at the crime scene.

A block away, his old buddy Brian Royce waited at the corner of another shabby-looking building. There he stood wearing his Psychwatch officer vest, not even bothering to conceal his Fatemaker. He did his usual routine of slightly nudging his glasses over his nose to keep them from slipping as he waited for Carl to join him and the others. His hands were covered by dark gloves as he twirled around his fingers out of boredom.

"That's a first," Carl said once he reached Royce's position at the corner of the alley. "You haven't puked yet. Guess the crime scene isn't too bad."

"Maslow, we've been over this," Royce replied. "It's the smell, not the sight, that nauseates me."

"What the hell happened here?"

Carl glanced around the alley. Several of his colleagues were studying the area around them along with the little Crawl Patrol bots they had deployed to scan for more evidence. Blood was splattered against the walls of the alleyway. Four bodies remained from last night's carnage, yet the Crawl Patrol bots creeped across the corpses like flies around roadkill. The constant beeping of the officers' SanityScans as they studied the bodies without a care in the world only added to their unintentional apathy.

Then Carl saw Inspector Andrade standing at the opposite corner of him. She brushed her lovely black hair to the side as she studied the holographic screen hovering in front of her. Hundreds of faces flashed across the screen, yet none of them resembled the dead. Carl could tell she was stressed. He could hear her mutter Spanish profanities under her breath.

"There you are, Maslow," she said as she glanced up from the screen. "Make yourself useful and connect to the Crawl Patrol's feed."

"Nice to see you, too, Andrade," Carl replied. He activated his ThoughtControl piece, flashing a small, square holographic lens in front of his left eye. Now with his Scan ready, he connected to one of the Crawl Patrol's wireless feeds and waited patiently as the data the bot had gathered transferred over. The flow of information never ceased to satisfy him, drifting into his Scan like a serene little creek.