Cognitive Deviance

48. Slater

June 4, 2045 - 3:00 PM

Noah Garrison shivered in his seat as a wall of holographic screens came between him and Mason.

On opposite sides of the wall, Margo and Andrade watched over him, their thoughts colliding in a battle neither of them knew was going on. Andrade remained as hostile and doubtful as ever, exchanging scowls between him and her colleague across the room from her. Margo, however, watched over the man as if he were a younger sibling getting scolded by their parents. Only his punishment wouldn't have been merciful like a grounding. Knowing Psychwatch, the poor guy could end up locked in the psych ward or drowned in medications until he'd pass out. Or possibly even death.

And Margo knew Andrade wanted to see him punished. Because that would've meant another win for Psychwatch. Another sign that nobody could fuck with them. That they were the top of the hierarchy, the food chain, and everyone else.

Mason moved some of the screens to her side. "Our records say you were last taken to the emergency room because of an overdose on July 4, 2042," she declared. "When did you say you searched the Rabbit Hole for your wife?"

"Th-th-the day after the rally incident," Mr. Garrison stuttered. "I've been clean ever since that last OD. And I took a drug test at the hospital after my trip down there just to be sure I came out clean."

"Did you tell them where you went?"

"No, I just told them I blacked out after a party with some friends."

Mason raised her brow. "That still doesn't make you sound very responsible."

"Yeah, I'll admit: I'm not the smartest of people. I was a damn hedonist. All I cared about was temporary happiness through drinking and drugs. But my daughters make me happier than those ever did, and I wanna set a good example for them now. So thank you for looking after this city, Commissioner."

Mason nodded. "And thank you for your contribution as well, Noah. The images gathered by our Psych Expressors through your experiences were very beneficial to our investigation. Because of them, I've managed to identify another target."

"Really? Who?"

"The man from the Rabbit Hole wearing a CamoSynth suit," Mason replied. "There's a likely chance my colleagues and I have run into him before."

"Damn. What are you gonna do once you find him again?"

A small grin formed on Mason's face, something strangely unsettling to witness. "I recommend keeping an eye on the local news for the next few days. You'll see soon enough."

Mr. Garrison laughed. "Hell yeah. Hope you guys get that son of a bitch."

"We will." The two of them rose from their seats, and Mason shook his hand. "Thank you for your cooperation. We hope to see you at our next session."

"I will for sure, ma'am. I promise. Hope y'all have a good day." And he marched out of the room.

Once the doors closed behind him, Andrade jerked away from the wall, approaching the desk. "You're really sure he's not bullshitting us?" she said.

"Absolutely," Mason replied. "The images generated by the Psych Expressors were very straightforward and matched everything he discussed with you and Sandoval earlier. His medical records confirm he took a drug test—which came back negative, I should add—at the Temple University Hospital on May 27 at 7:45 PM. And now that he's just proven that Slater really is involved with the Rabbit Hole, we're closer than ever before to saving this city."

"How do we know it was Slater? It could've been some other pendejo with drugs and a CamoSynth suit."

"And how many of them do you know, Andrade?"