ã€ŠCircuits and Cigars - Kay&#x27;s Storyã€‹


 Ch.1 - A Case So Stupid a Child Could Solve

    I stared down at the tablet in my hand, wondering if this new case qualified as a gross misuse of island resources. It wasn¡¯t the soft, tropical rain pattering against my cruiser that made me shake my head ¡ª it was the call I¡¯d just received. A door left ajar¡­ again.

    I bit down on the end of my cigar, letting the faint tobacco taste settle on my synthetic taste buds, blending with the cold coffee simulation I could sense and analyze but never truly experience. I stepped out of the cruiser, popping an umbrella against the drizzle, and walked up to Aretha Chaplin¡¯s two-bedroom apartment on Claremont and Livery.

    She opened the door¡ªand had legs that went on for miles. Even if I¡¯m not wired for it, I can still appreciate the aesthetics of a distressed organic who believed her apartment was under siege by forces unknown. A jarred door, she said. Mysteriously left open, time after time.

    ¡°Good evening, Ms. Chaplin,¡± I greeted, tipping my hat out of habit.

    ¡°You said your door was found ajar again?¡±

    Her nod was quick, eyes darting to me, then the hallway, like she expected a ghost or a hijacker to jump out at any moment.

    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s the third time this week,¡± she said, voice trembling. ¡°Please¡­ do something.¡±

    I glanced at the door¡¯s lock, wishing I could upload sarcasm the way I upload data. But a job¡¯s a job, and this is my job.

    ¡°Let¡¯s have a look, then,¡± I replied.

    "Howdy Kay!" I heard a voice from behind me and I already knew who it was. Timothy Johnson. Son of Gerald Johnson, lead artificial scientist in the Islands AI facility.

    "Hey Timmy, what brings you around?", I asked already knowing the answer.

    "TAI said I could tag along on this one for my Civics assignment".

    Somehow I suspect TAI is dumping these ¡®social¡¯ cases on me because the organics find my hard-boiled detective shtick ¡®quaint.¡¯ TAI¡ªshort for ¡®Top Artificial Intelligence¡¯ (yes, it¡¯s a nickname for a nickname)¡ªseems to think my old-time noir vibe is perfect for dealing with people. If you ask me, it¡¯s just lazy branding.

    "Okay kid, come with me, Ms. Chaplin here is having a problem with her door. First we will do a routine check of the apartment for intruders, stay here until I tell ya to come in, got it?" Timmy simply nods his head while typing on his tablet. "Mam, may I search your apartment for intruders? As a reminder this entire conversation is being recorded" I said in a monotone. "Yes of course detective" she said as she sashayed her hips to the side to give me entry. Again, being appreciative of beauty is part of my core programming, even if I don''t have the equipment to go further, it''s nice to look, and look Timmy was. Smart kid.

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    "I''ll be right back Timmy, don''t slip in your drool ok?" I said as I walked into the apartment and came back out in a minute. During that time a full scan showed nothing a miss, although her groceries were lagging and cleanliness of her bathroom could use some help. It''s always the knockouts that need the help it seems.

    I paused inside the doorway, glancing at Timmy and our red-clad hostess. The island disdains the concept of pleasure bots, but I can''t help but think this encounter could end differently otherwise. I saw a movie like that once. I was about to tell her to get some rest¡ªshe was basically imagining things¡ªwhen something furry pressed up against my leg. A soft purr followed.

    I looked down to find her cat, obviously named Mr. Mittens, rubbing against me. Looking up again, I noticed Timmy fiddling with the inside of the door panel, probably distracting himself from the lady in red.

    ¡°What¡¯ve you got there, kid?¡± I asked, unable to see past that unruly mop of hair.

    ¡°A¡­ looks like a magnetic interlocker for the lock. Ms. Chaplin, do you have a cat door system here?¡± Timmy asked.

    ¡°Yes, Mittens enjoys coming and going,¡± she replied.

    Timmy smiled wide. ¡°Oh! That¡¯s probably it. The cat let himself out, and the door didn¡¯t fully engage, leaving it ajar. Broken lock, ma¡¯am. Kay,¡± he said, turning to me with the biggest grin I¡¯d ever seen him wear, ¡°check the abode recordings to confirm, right?¡±

    ¡°Thanks, boy wonder. I was just about to ask,¡± I said, only half-joking. ¡°Ma¡¯am, do you give this unit¡ªID DetectionUnitK192¡ªpermission to review your private abode recordings from this morning until you returned?¡±

    ¡°Oh, um, they¡¯re private, right? Only you see it?¡± she asked, shooting a glance at Timmy.

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am, only I¡¯ll see them. Timmy, nor anyone else, will not.¡±

    She blushed faintly. ¡°Well¡­ okay, then.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow and ran the tape in my head. The cause of her distress? She¡¯s a nudist at home. Great. Damn neutered android reflexes¡ªif I could only...  I should really be enjoying this more than I am. Oh well.

    There in the corner, I see the cat exit the door using the automated pressure plate. The door closes fully at first, but an instant later, he squeezes back i leaving it slightly ajar.

    The kid was right¡ªthe pussy is the cause of why the lady is uncomfortable. I chuckle to myself at how bad that quip is. Fortunately, it¡¯s an internal monologue for a reason, right?

 Ch.2 - Lets not talk about the disintegrator ray.

    Timmy and I stepped out into the damp evening air, the last remnants of rain clinging to the pavement in uneven pools. The hum of the flood walls filled the space between us¡ªocean water, siphoned and converted into raw mana, a never-ending cycle that kept Tulanto¡¯s, the Island to the natives, lights on and the rest of the world jealous.

    The electric squad car waited where I¡¯d left it, parked in front of Apartment Complex 4-2, a neat little corner of Tulanto¡¯s meticulously planned neighborhoods. Every district was the same¡ªclean, efficient, predictable. Not a thing out of place. Except, occasionally, for an apartment door that wouldn¡¯t stay shut.

    "God, that was pretty wicked, right, Kay?" Timmy was practically bouncing. "Instructor Chen said only around 40% of investigations even get solved, and of those, most happen in the first 48 hours¡ªso not to get my hopes up, but damn, if this wasn''t the best! My dad is gonna flip when he hears I solved a case on my first ride-along! I mean, he¡¯d have figured it out five minutes in, but still! He¡¯s wicked smart. But I guess you don¡¯t need me to tell you that, right, Kay? Since, you know, your brain is basically his work?"

    The kid was gushing again. His admiration for his father dripped like a leaky faucet in a foreclosed home. If I could barf, I might''ve. But that¡¯s what organics did with their parents. They either adored them or hated them¡ªno middle ground. At least, that was my observation. And observations were best left far, far away from personal reflection. Especially when TAI had a habit of forcing me into those.

    I sent a quick ping to TAI to discuss operational security concerns with Gerald Johnson. The man was a genius, sure, but maybe telling his teenage son about classified AI developments wasn¡¯t the best call. Not that I particularly cared¡ªmy processing speeds were already more than adequate. If anything, a little research into stronger body armor would be better spent.

    Sure, I could outthink plenty of the humans I was tasked with protecting, but getting shot was just as dramatic for me as it was for them. Physics didn¡¯t care if you were organic or synthetic. And despite what people assumed, we frontline androids were actually a little squishy. The illusion¡ªthe one that kept people comfortable¡ªrequired us to blend in. But if blending in meant I had to suffer the same vulnerabilities as the people I was designed to protect, I had a few notes.

    Timmy, blissfully unaware of my inner monologue, tapped away on his tablet. I opened the squad car¡¯s door and slid into the driver¡¯s seat, waiting for the inevitable.

    ¡°So, you dropping me off at home, or should I head back to the school office?¡± Timmy asked.

    ¡°Your choice.¡±

    ¡°School office,¡± he said without hesitation. ¡°Not that it¡¯s really a ¡®school,¡¯ but you know. Gotta check in.¡±

    I nodded, adjusting the car¡¯s route. As we pulled away, Timmy snickered.

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    "Oh, that reminds me, Kay¡ªremember that tourist last month? The one who called you for a passport issue and then lost his mind when he realized you weren¡¯t organic?"

    "Ah. Mr. Lewis," I said, recalling the incident. "Citizen of Tuvalu. Requested emergency passport assistance. Panicked when I signed the approval form."

    "I still can¡¯t believe he asked to see a human officer instead!"

    "Happens more than you think," I said. "Visitors expect the usual¡ªfaceless bureaucracy, long lines, inefficiency. Instead, they get me."

    "Yeah, well, you have a habit of looking extra cop-like. All broody and noir."

    "People like their illusions," I muttered.

    We pulled up to the school office. A minimalist glass structure, softly glowing, automated systems humming inside. No teachers, no hall monitors. Just a processing center where students logged their independent study, reviewed AI feedback, or¡ªlike Timmy¡ªchecked in from work-study programs.

    I released the car restraints, letting his seatbelt release and the door to open vertically on Timmy''s side. "Oh, no need, I can just log it from here."

    "You could," I said. "But I think Instructor Chen would like it if you did it in person."

    He hesitated, then gave me a half-smirk. "Yeah. Maybe."

    I followed him inside. A holographic assistant at the front desk flickered to life as we approached.

    "Mr. Timothy J. Johnson¡ªrecord updated. You could''ve just updated it remotely, not that I don''t love seeing you in person.", he said with a smirk, "Work-study credited. Next evaluation in four days. Good day Mr. Johnson."

    "Thanks, HAL," Timmy said.

    "I do not go by HAL."

    "And yet."

    The AI let out a simulated sigh.

    I tapped into the system, officially logging his ride-along results. The room was silent, efficient, sterile¡ªlike everything in Tulanto''s official buildings. No chatter, no bells, no wasted motion. Just progress. The way people wanted it.

    "So Kid, you gonna pass this Civics course, ya think?" I asked.

    "Oh, please. I aced it before I even got assigned this ride-along." Timmy smirked, shoving his tablet into his bag. "Later, Kay."

    I left him there, stepping back out into the drizzle. The squad car¡¯s interior adjusted to my presence, syncing with my systems, waiting for instructions.

    I didn¡¯t give any. Not right away.

    Cases like today¡¯s were common these days. Minor disturbances, misplaced belongings, tech malfunctions. The kind of work that kept things running smooth but never really mattered.

    I had solved real cases before¡ªthe kind that made people uneasy. Disappearances that weren¡¯t accidental. Theft with intent. Crimes that weren¡¯t just clerical errors. But nowadays those were rare here. Too rare.

    I let my hand rest against the steering wheel, the synthetic fibers of my fingertips adjusting to the pressure. My neural network had evolved in ways Tulanto never intended. And like any good scientists, they didn¡¯t interfere. They just observed the outcome. For me, noir detective of course. Not a bad outcome in my mind--could be worse.

    I glanced toward the ocean. The flood walls stood unshaken, humming with mana conversion. Most people only saw a marvel of engineering. I saw the gaps¡ªwhere smugglers used to slip refugees through, blending them into the labor force and native visa population. That was before the Interceptor models took over¡ªless emotional, less human, more efficient. Five years on coastal security left me with memories of what the waves swallowed whole.

    My grip tightened.

    The radio crackled.

    "Hey, Kay," TAI¡¯s voice came through. "Got a bone for you: possible homicide at Crawford and Pier 73."

    I took a slow drag of simulated coffee, letting the caffeine that wasn¡¯t real settle into a body that didn¡¯t need it.

    "Copy that," I said, and turned the car toward something real.

 Ch.3 - Nothing to See Here, Move Along. Just Ignore That Body at Your Feet.

    The warehouses on Pier 73 is part of the independent commercial district. The pier itself is an example, like many things on the Island, of top notch material research  and spans out almost four miles into the ocean. Not any different to any of the multitude of piers on the island, it fits nicely into general idea of how a futuristic pier should look. Most warehouses that ran along both sides of the pier were a synthetic plastic that was stronger then concrete and that could be tinted with the appropriate zing of an electric pulse at the right frequency.

    The Piers technically fell to us security units to police for smugglers and contraband but in actuality, the coastal interceptor units are the ones who go up and down the pier at night pinging the warehouses and doing visual inspections in addition to the ever present eye in the sky that TAI is. Being in our jurisdiction, is why we are here today for the first homicide in years. Catching refugees and smugglers is fully in the interceptor wheelhouse, but a dead bod with no leads is a little too much for their dumbed down brains.

    About 2 miles into the pier was the target warehouse, 73-15. It''s glass facade was tinted to avoid curious looky-loos and the front of it was a circus of vans, cruisers and even one coastal unit hover cart if you can believe it. I guess they wanted to make sure to ensure this was pushed into our laps all proper like. As such, I added my cruiser to the collection in front of the warehouse. A police line was drawn using holo tech which drew the lines from one leg to another keeping a classing "Do not enter" tape hovering in the air between the two. I crossed the line, the legs automatically checking my credentials upon entering, and walked over to where the commotion was.

    The left side of the warehouse was stacked with cellophane-wrapped boats, the largest a sleek 42-foot cruiser. Not a bad collection, all things considered. The middle of the warehouse, toward the back, was a cut out into the ocean where the ships could be docked and/or released into the ocean. It was cool for a maritime setup, and nothing illegal about it with the right permits, which we would most definitely check up on. The right side of the warehouse was shelves upon shelves of organized boxes and retrieval robots. Pretty standard stuff to be honest and would look suspect if they were there actually.

    Near the back of the shelves was where the star of the show was, laying on her back, crumpled to the floor, staring at the ceiling. She showed to be a braided haired doll with a bit of a Brazilian look to her face. Green eyes looked up at us as we surrounded her, looking down at the beauty. Dressed in a fashionable business suit, and silk blouse. Her large bosom and fit body proudly pushed against the fabric of her clothes not overly exposing anything but perfectly implying what was there. Fresh make up was painted on her face like a fresh coat of paint on the side of a refurnished house. Her lips proudly protruded in a cute smile like  resting pose. Her left green eye was the only hint of what did her in¡ªan electrical fire had torn through from eye socket to skull, exposing what should¡¯ve been brain matter, but was instead a modified AG2-2 AI processing unit. Not Homicide - but an android being subjected to forced immolation.

    "Richard. Good of you to join us." I heard from behind me and immediately  I rolled my eyes. Remember how I said being a noir detective wasn''t the worse I could''ve evolved into? Well there was always Frank Parker, technically my partner for this case, who took on the distinct characterization of a 1960''s G man. Bureaucratic	instinct for sweeping things under the rug included.

    "Frank. What have we got here?"

    "Not homicide. Just a droid that short-circuited. Wrap it up, Richard. We¡¯ve got better things to do."

    "Sounds good Frank. But first did you notice that this AI unit is old, yet the body is of a current generation and even that isn''t quite up to snuff. This android isn''t like us Frank. Subpar and a homemade feel to her."

    "''It'' Richard, not a ''she''."

    I was crouching by her head looking at the bootleg CPU and looked up to Frank who was simply staring at the ocean while he said this. "Frank, regardless of how black and white you want to make things, this here is a person, regardless of who built her, and deserves that much respect at least, and since we don''t know her personal pronouns, we sure as hell know she''s a ''she'' not an ''it''."

    "Semantics Dick. Just semantics"

    I let that go and continued to the back of her neck to examine the body''s interface link. Every android has one which allows us to dock into our medical bay when we get upgrades and such. An Island''s android''s body is modeled after human skin tissue, and as such can grow given enough blueprints installed in it. When I get an upgrade to my body, it''s going to basically be an injection full of nano machines that deliver a blueprint change and then the body will install it over time, the tech itself was inspired by modern day vaccines in humans. Problem with our Jane Doe here was she didn''t have an interface. For all intents and purposes her body was just as flawless as an organic''s.

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    "Well Frank, I''d love to rubber stamp this as destruction of property"

    "Great, I''l just start the paperwork..."

    "But, there is one problem. Just a small one. This android here has a two generation old AI unit, a current-gen neural network and no decipherable interface link Frank. Still want to close this case Frank? I''m sure it''s not a big deal right big guy?!"

    Frank slowly looked away from the ocean at me in a stupor and simply said "We need to escalate this to AG".

    I nodded to him. Frank was a pig in a fashion show, but he was also a good cop, a really good cop. He knew what this represented for the Island, let alone for the world. Someone on the Island was bootlegging our proprietary technology and god knows what they were doing with it. But I was going to find out.

    "Before we report it up, let''s talk to the witness. Fill me in Frank."

    Frank seemed to clear his head at this and took out his notepad, with actual notes on it. Obviously in cosplay since you know, we have a computer in our head, but if he could forgive me my Cuban''s and coffee habit then I could forgive him his bad aftershave, dark glasses and dark suits. The habit of wearing fedora''s was just good taste I guess.

    "Warehouse owner came by to inspect an alarm he said. His statement said that he''s rarely here and otherwise would never come by. He''s by the front with the rookies who are doing the usual checks. Seems he''s already going to get 3 fines for various things we found against the building code."

    I looked over at the large boat on the lower chassis and walked over to it. I noticed that the cellophane on this one wasn''t equipped, seemed ready to be craned over to the hole in the floor for usage at a moments notice.

    "Seems this one gets used often." I said I as I climb the ladder up into the aft section where fishing and who knows what else goes on.

    "I take no liability for anything that you break up there officer" came from below where Frank was now standing with one of the newer officers and a dumpy looking fellow with a balding spot that I could see from my vantage point. He stood up to Franks and Newbie''s shoulder and looking up at me like an angry little chick.

    "Mr Hernandez I presume." I said as I let myself down from he ladder. "This boat seems to be used fairly often. Care to shed some light on what it''s used for? While your at it can you tell me how you came about to finding the body."

    The topic change threw the penguin-looking man off track. His eyes darted around, searching for something to anchor himself to. Finally he seemed to remember himself and got to spilling the beans.

    "I dunno, the boats one of my clients, I just rent out the facility to some small companies and individuals for storage and some packaging stuff they may need. It''s all on the up and up. Got my licenses and everything in order for that. As for the broad, I got a CO2 alarm on my phone and came by to check it out. I thought one of the boats may have been activated or something. But instead I got a burned up lady in a corp suit. I called it in immediately -- you can check the video feeds to confirm."

    "Interesting. Do you get CO2 alarms frequently Mr Hernandez?"

    He shrugged and kicked the floor a bit in nervousness. "You never know with these genius independents. Their inventions tend to blow up in there face. Literally."

    And there I realized without needing to look it up that Mr. Hernandez was one of the natives of the Island before it was this new nation of ours. The Natives always seemed to carry a grudge even if being part of this nation pumped their quality of living beyond all others in the world. They still had an us vs them mentality that bled through. Humans and their tribalism I guess.

    "Any other questions?" I asked to Frank, only for the Newbie to pipe up "I think Mr Hernandez should be detained for further questioning until the crime scene has been processed just in case we have further questions."

    Frank and I both looked at the Newbie, which I didn''t bother to catch the name of - one newbie fresh out of the lab is exactly like the next after all.

    "And, why per se, do we need to hold him here? Can''t we just call him on the phone if needed or ask him to come back?"

    "Sir procedure specifically gives us the option to detain any witnesses for..."

    "Son, I practically helped write those procedures 25 years ago, and I can assure you they are not meant to bother upstanding citizens like Mr. Hernandez for such frivolous purposes. Sir you''re free to go, we may have further questions." Frank said and followed up to the Newbie "A note has been placed with TAI about your behavior."

    "Yes sir, sorry sir. I''ll just umm, go help with the clean up" the embarrassed recruit said while walking back to the body.

    "Kids these days" Frank mumbled to him self. "To AG?" He asked me.

    "Yea, but first, I found this on the inside of her jacket." Showing him a picture on my phone. "It''s the label of a pretty famous tailor located in the inner market section. Maybe we go talk to him first before taking it to the big wigs." I said to Frank.

    "TAI, thoughts?"

    "This case has been upgraded to Code Platinum. AG is awaiting your report¡ªafter you speak with Sir Wallace Mellon. He also sends his regards¡­ to his tailor." TAI said to them both in their head.

    "I hate when she does that. We have phones. We have speakers in our phones. Rude."

 Ch.4 - A Stitched Together Lady

    Frank and I had the newbies wrap up the crime scene and then headed over to the Inner Market District. As the name implied the Inner Market District was the prime retail space reserved for high-end artisan and independent merchants. Shopping in the Inner Market District was akin to shopping on Fifth Avenue in New York, except that instead of needing loads of money to shop at any of the stores you needed loads of respect. On an island where ninety percent of its inhabitants were geniuses, meritocracy wasn¡¯t just respected¡ªit was the foundation. Money still mattered, but it took a back seat to what your peers thought of you. Reputation was its own currency here, with actual tokens of favor often exchanged for services. Respect, in the end, was just another fiat currency.

    The Inner Market Shops needed to invite you in via a simple door ringer. If the clerk knew you and didn¡¯t approve, you weren¡¯t getting in¡ªsimple as that. And if you did manage to step inside, they could have you trespassed in under a minute. Hilariously enough lawsuits had actually been filed in the United States, with their open tort law system, for access to the Inner Market Shops on Tulanto, and promptly thrown out of court. Similarly, complaints in the UN Court system were still pending. Since the Island was recognized by the UN but not a signatory, we pretty much tended to ignored those claims. So aside from the fact that the Inner Marker exclusiveness lead to charges of war crimes, the square that held those elite stores were actually small and quite quaint.

    Sir Mellon''s tailor shop "Tailor the World", was slotted just next to a world famous chocolatier and a custom electronics builder known for their bespoke phones¡ªones that later get cloned by the major manufacturers and trend for years. The three floor building was built in a tan stone brick that looked old school and yet I knew was still just as sturdy as any of the buildings on the island. All buildings on the island could withstand category 5 hurricanes  easily enough due to the new building materials we created to task.

    Although the GDP of Tulanto was small, it was carefully controlled to keep inflation, growth, and demand in check. We weren''t selling all we could, but that was by design to keep scarcity in our favor. Wait for most of our tangible products was in years not months. Besides that most exports were in technology licensing, not product. As such, we tended to measure our growth not by GDP, but by our own Technological Value Index¡ªhow much our internal patents and advancements were worth to the outside world.

    Besides my brooding about our economic policy and its real-world effects, walking into the shop reminded me that some problems in life are universal¡ªlike trying to get good customer service. Good service today meant getting answers and hopefully the tailor to the world here could help out on those.

    A grey-haired gentleman and a younger version of himself stood ramrod straight, identical smiles on their faces as Frank and I stepped inside. The older man reminded me of a certain wood worker, and the younger his come to life puppet. The elder Sir Mellon looked like an aged version of his son, who stood nearly a foot taller. I was wondering if maybe they were the androids here since the likeness was so uncanny.

    "Detectives! I''m so glad you came around. TAI gave us a heads up, and I have pulled up quite a bit of my last years invoices to assist in your investigation. Quite exciting this unregistered android you''ve found isn''t it?"

    Frank and I both looked at each other with the our eyebrows cocked trying to figure out how our elderly tailor could know this already. This was a platinum level case - also known as top secret to others in the world.

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    ¡°Hehe, I can see you two are wondering how I know. Gentlemen, I know more about Tulanto¡¯s affairs than either of you¡ªit¡¯s my duty as one of the island¡¯s few nobles, after all. Come, let¡¯s ensure we find out what¡¯s going on here and put a stop to it.¡±

    I had just thought the fellow was done with the theatrics when he followed it up with what was ostensibly my line.

    ¡°Whatever this is, we need to strangle it in the cradle¡ªbefore it learns to walk.¡±

    The nerve of some people.

    "Indeed Sir Mellon" Frank began with the official kiss of the ring "We found this suit on the deceased, would you happen to recall it by chance? It''s a very fine material in a black slate tone with a classic working suit design for a very well filled lady about 5''4". The inner blouse is a dark red almost scarlet colored silk that is also very fine. Attached are the pictures I sent to your phone, but I assume you''ve  already seen them."

    "Ah, yes, Agent Parker, I recall these fabrics well. This suit, and the inner garments, are quite special. The client insisted the wearer had an extreme skin sensitivity, requiring a completely custom material. In fact, we developed several new patents just to meet the request."

    I hummed in surprise. Getting a patent in Tulanto wasn¡¯t just rare¡ªit was damn near impossible. Patents here weren¡¯t public, and they weren¡¯t up for grabs. Our AI reviewed every new registration worldwide and flagged anything that even smelled like a mimic. No loopholes, no over-exaggerated claims sneaking through. It kept our high-tech locked down tighter than a corporate vault, free from the reverse-engineering plague the rest of the world dealt with. But the cost?

    To get a patent here, you didn¡¯t just have to be brilliant¡ªyou had to be a genius among geniuses. And Sir Mellon had just put himself and his team into another league entirely.

    "Quite Impressive my Patron," I said using the informal way you addressed nobles here. "Would you happen to have the contact details of the person who requested those items? Would help get a name to whoever was over seeing the victim."

    "Victim? Hmm¡­ interesting turn of phrase, Detective. But I suppose she was a victim¡ªdesigned with underwhelming, sub-standard equipment right from the start." The younger said while looking at pictures of the deceased on his father''s tablet. "Although, who ever designed her look and, well, assets was an artist in my opinion. She''s every teenage boys wet dream isn''t she Detective?"

    I cocked my head and thought about that. A nagging idea not quite forming yet demanding attention. "Yea she''s a looker sir. That''s for sure."

    "Yes. Well to bring my son back on topic, I have sent you over the client information and the drop off location of this order, however I must also point out the delivery was intercepted by a drone sign off."

    "One other peculiarity,¡± Sir Mellon said, holding his left hand up in a stiff, straight-armed pose¡ªeither striking the dignified man-with-a-point stance or discreetly checking if his deodorant had expired. ¡°When I said the patents were for this suit, I was technically incorrect. They were actually for a series of lingerie and negligee pieces, all with the same dimensions, picked up three weeks before the suit order.

    The suit? Pre-paid. Fake name. Fake address.

    But the previous order? Requested, paid for, and picked up in person¡ªby one Mateo Falieri.

    At the time, it seemed like normal escapade behavior for my clients. But looking further, he¡¯s an Italian liaison to Tulanto.

    And, if our sources are right, a suspected member of AISE¡ªthe Italian intelligence agency. However, it seems he has gone back to Italia as of 2 weeks ago."

    Yeah, an Italian spook fits the profile. Even if she wasn¡¯t top-of-the-line for us, she¡¯d be years ahead of anything the rest of the world had.

    Our boy probably thought he was sneaking out his very own Pussy Galore¡ªuntil she went critical.

    Definitely a lead worth taking to the consulate.

 Ch.5 - Dead Ends and Departures

    We headed back to mansion on the hill to meet up with TAI and AG in the flesh. It was a quiet ride back with Frank sometimes mumbling about not being able to afford anything from Tailor the World. I had other things on my mind, like where this case was going to go after we basically handed it off to the Italian consulate. If this really was spy business, they¡¯d kill the lead on arrival¡ªalong with any chance we had of chasing it further. That meant one thing: back to old-school detective work.

    "Hey Frank, we''re going to have to do a dragnet on all the cams and see where this Frankenstein of ours has been in the last couple months. Ya know, who she''s been with, how they interact, and all that."

    "Already on it Dick. I got some of the newbies running down soft leads and making a timeline as we speak. TAI is cranking on archival footage as well. How''s that coming along TAI?"

    Frank calls me ¡®Dick¡¯ a lot, well, because it is my name, but also because he likes to remind me that I am one. Not quite flirting, but to some, it might come uncomfortably close.

    ¡°It¡¯s coming along nicely, Frank,¡± TAI responded¡ªon the car radio for once. ¡°In between running an entire nation¡¯s commerce, managing bureaucracy, and dealing with elected representatives, I might be able to squeeze in your little request. Appreciate the extra workload¡ªwhat a Big Bad G-Man you are, Frank. Never change.¡±

    I almost choked my coffee out at that. TAI is usually reserved, but when she snarks, she really knows how. I blame the politics. We got to the hill a little after 5 p.m., with the sun still holding onto about an hour of light. The palm trees swayed in the blustery tropical wind, the rain long gone. Hard to believe today started with a cat joke and a lonely kid¡ªtime flies when you¡¯re really confused, I guess.

    We pulled up to the Great Hall, stepping out while the car parked itself in the staff lot around back.

    Though technically the monarchy¡¯s residence, the mansion functioned more like an office building than a home. Data centers, real organics hustling through office spaces, and more than a few special-use androids crawled around the place like ants, handling the hard work that needed doing.

    The building¡¯s regal front had vertical tooling along its walls¡ªto the untrained eye, it was just an aesthetic flourish, but in reality, those structures were micro-mana absorbers, pulling atmospheric energy to offset the absurd power demands of the nation¡¯s center of control.

    By now, you might be asking about mana. And if you¡¯re one of those literature-gaming freaks, you¡¯re probably wondering where and when the magic comes into play. Well, buddy, there isn¡¯t any, and it doesn¡¯t¡ªgrow up already.

    What there is, though, is a new form of energy that AG discovered¡ªor rather, rediscovered¡ªand used to disrupt the entire world¡¯s power structure. Literally and figuratively.

    It¡¯s the same concept Nikola Tesla tried to tap into with his infamous Wardenclyffe Tower, drawing power straight from the atmosphere. He called it radiant energy.

    The world¡¯s top scientists insist on calling it Atmospheric Induction Energy.

    The more accommodating ones prefer Etheric Energy¡ªjust close enough to keep AG happy, just enough to stay in the good graces of the international community. Cowards.

    But AG? AG was a gaming nerd. He called it mana.

    And since we¡¯re the only ones who¡¯ve actually figured out how to use it for real-world, high-output applications, what we call it is what it is.

    Inside, we walked up to a reception desk, neatly tucked into the center of a hip-high, marble-like wall. On either side, security scanners stood like sentinels¡ªmaking old-school metal detectors feel like flickering lanterns in a hurricane. Entry on the left, exit on the right. Leaving required a scan too, just in case someone ¡°accidentally¡± walked out with important documents or data storage they weren¡¯t supposed to have.

    The receptionist¡ªa cute little organic in a crisp business suit and dress combo¡ªglanced at her wristwatch and yawned before spotting us. Her expression shifted to a well-practiced smile as she looked us up and down.

    ¡°Officers? Or is it Agent?¡± She glanced at Frank, then at me¡ªmy unlit cigar hanging from my mouth, my fedora tilted just enough to add some shadow. ¡°Or¡­ is it Detective?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied.

    ¡°How¡¯d you know we were androids?¡±

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    She giggled. ¡°You both look like you walked out of a history book.¡±

    ¡°Guess that¡¯s how it is here,¡± I muttered, thinking about how the Platinum security case had put us in an even smaller club. ¡°We have an appointment with TAI. Who must think this is hilarious right now.¡±

    ¡°Let me check that for you, sir.¡± She tapped her console. ¡°Ah, here it is. You¡¯re cleared for self-travel. You can head up whenever you¡¯re ready. Have a good day, sirs.¡±

    That Cheshire grin told me how entertained she was.

    Not one to let my audience down, I tilted my hat and threw out the classic line. ¡°So, what¡¯s a beautiful dame like you doing in a place like this?¡±

    She giggled again. ¡°Working! Lol.¡±

    She actually said Lol.

    I shook my head. ¡°Well, you keep up the good work, ma¡¯am.¡± Another hat tilt, another eye-roll from Frank as we turned the corner toward TAI¡¯s office.

    We could still hear her giggling as we walked off.

    ¡°You proud of yourself now?¡± Frank muttered, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

    I smirked. ¡°Gotta keep the illusion up when it¡¯s expected, Frank.¡±

    "Sure Dick"

    On the third floor of the north wing, we knocked on a set of twelve-foot mahogany doors. Quite an impressive sight if you were moved by such things. A way to impress¡ªand to intimidate both foreign and local dignitaries before the game even starts.

    "Just come in. Drop the theatrics" TAI talked into our heads.

    The mahogany double doors swung open without a sound, revealing a space designed for quiet intimidation. The room was vast, yet sparsely decorated¡ªa minimalist¡¯s idea of power. The walls were a mix of deep wood paneling and sleek, unblemished beige, a blend of old-world authority and modern efficiency.

    A single sitting table and four chairs dominated the center, the kind that didn¡¯t need ornate carvings or gold accents to make a statement. It was a solid, heavy, beautifully crafted kind of furniture that could withstand the weight of empires. No throne, no royal excess¡ªjust presence. Presence and hot scolding coffee with desserts. My type of man.

    Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the far wall, offering an uninterrupted view of Tulanto below. The ocean shimmered in the fading sunlight, flood walls cutting dark silhouettes against the water¡ªlike scars on the horizon. From here, the entire city looked small¡ªmanageable. Controlled.

    At the table sat AG, dressed in a simple, well-cut Mellon branded suit that spoke of old money and quiet authority. Across from him, in perfect posture, was TAI in her android form¡ªtrue to name she was a Thai beauty of impossible symmetry, slight of bossom, and her expression unreadable, her presence almost too fluid to be human.

    Everything about this room was deliberate. A place where deals were made, wars were prevented, and control was absolute.

    Frank and I took three steps into the room and automatically took a knee into a full hip bow.

    AG looked down at us with a slight irritation on his face. "Get up, we have too much to do to rely on formalities."

    "This is why I didn''t want that added to the baseline" he said to TAI.

    "Formality is necessary for function Alistair." TAI replied in her typical nonchalant way.

    "Ridiculous TAI, this is all just so ridiculous at times. And you two, would you kindly treat me like any one else unless otherwise told".

    And just like that, I wasn¡¯t kneeling before my sworn liege¡ªI was standing in front of a respected elder. Hard to fight programming when it¡¯s written into your bones. Harder still when the old man actually feels like someone worth kneeling for.

    "So, we''ve been keeping tabs on the two of you since the discovery and we know about the Italians. That''s not going to go anywhere through official channels. They, and every other nation, have been trying to get to our tech for decades now, but this is the first time they outright came after our androids since it''s kinda hard to sneak an official model out. This here introduces a new paradigm to our anti-theft programs." AG said in his confident yet warm voice.

    Not a baritone type of voice, but instead a light tenor. Obviously AG was not one to ever need to raise his voice so  he had an ambient, perfectly pitched, voice for quite conversation.

    He had gotten up at some point and was pouring two cups of hot coffee on the table and then offered them to both Frank and I.

    "Sit. We''ll discuss your next steps. I had TAI send you over historical reference to external, umm , problems of the past for context." AG said taking a break to take a bite of a really good looking apple danish. "So, I think we need one of you to go over there and maybe ask a few questions in person to our Mr. Falieri. As well, we have some contacts in the local information trade over there who may be able to help with the more local view of things. Obviously, it''s not a good look for us if we transmitted that info. The nations take interest in even our detritus these days so a data dump from a known info broker would be nothing but a huge red flag for all. I''ll let the two of you decide the details, but maybe Agent Parker here could go as he looks more the part, but again it''s up to you two to decide."

    I could sense Franks ears perk up at the unintended praise and felt him straighten up to speak and probably accept that part of the case when he said "Actually your majesty, I think Frank is better with people then me. And given that the Italians aren''t as exposed to a real android their expectations are less forgiving then the populace here."

    "Yes, I agree" TAI said. "We need someone to blend nicely with the human populace, and besides Franks attire, he tends to come off as a "cute" throw back to most. I think he''ll do nicely for this part of the mission.

    "Sheesh, TAI, tell me how you really feel".

    "Fine. You and I have a date when this is over. Dress nicely¡ªI expect dinner and dancing".

    I looked at TAI waiting for the punch line. The room was eerily quiet.

    "Fine. Thai food good?" I asked. To which she smirked and nodded.

    "Ah, my children grow up so fast." AG said breaking the thick tension that had grown. "Kay, get your things in order. I want you to go see Dr. Vance and get some upgrades before heading out. TAI will setup your diplomatic credentials. Frank, stay back to discuss our local findings and what''s next."

 Ch.6 - Packing Light, Leaving Heavy

    As directed, I headed downstairs and across to the West side of the building where the ''Ministry of Android and Artificial Operations'' was located. Big name for what basically accounted for a government research institute. This is where Dr. Elliot Vance''s offices were located.

    The second floor offices were glass encased in super secure plastics that have come to symbolize high tech superiority here on the island. If the warehouse tinting tech is practical and made out of a concern for utility, these walls simply screamed ostentatious. The slight blurring prevented information leaks¡ªbut if you could count the people inside, was it really secure?

    I walked to the single door and rang the bell for entry to be stopped by a overly digitized voice.

    "Please stand still for deep scan and access verification. DetectionUnitK192 confirmed. Please leave all weapons in the bin and continue in." at which point a large, filing-cabinet-like bin ejected from the wall.

    I stared at the bin, and not having a gun, since we hardly ever need them on the Island, I took off my fedora and placed it in the bin.

    "Done." I said and walked toward the door and entered the office.

    The office looked pretty big and had the last drags of work obsessed people in the process of leaving their desk to go home for the night. Behind me two large robots stood guard on either side of the door I had just walked through. One of them passed me my hat.

    "Here you go Kay. Sorry about that." It texted me. I titled my hat to it and wrote back "Vance, where''s he at?".

    "10 minutes ago, on his couch watching TV, at the moment probably putting his jacket on to meet you."

    At that very second Dr. Elliot Vance came walking around the corner.

    "Ah, Unit K192, please come with me."

    "Kay is fine."

    "K192, we haven''t all night. Lets get your upgrades in place and let me get back to my research."

    "Sure thing, Doc 2938-P25. That''s your employee ID. I can do ID''s too."

    Vance stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to look at me. We stared at each other and played a game he could never win.

    "I think you got under his skin Kay".

    That came in text format from the security bot, I nicknamed Lefty.

    "Aw, I hope he doesn''t tell us to see you out. That would be awkward." Righty texted behind.

    The robots looked like a combination of the droids from Star Wars and those of Boston Dynamic and were about 8 feet tall to my 6''2". Although no copyright claim was going to happen because unlike the boxy forms of either of the aforementioned robots, these were slick looking and almost aerodynamic. Hydraulic systems proudly presented the working gears of their locomotion. However their shoulders were colored in Republic like ways. Sure, they could push me around¡ªif they avoided getting hacked first. In a straight fight, they¡¯d always lose. But boy, did they give off the right vibe of intimidation to those not in the know.

    "Ok, my... apologies Kay." Vance said, forcing the use of my name. "Shall we?"

    "Sure" I said. "These droids gonna tag along too?" I asked.

    "Please No!" Lefty texted me.

    "This is the cushy job, as it''s the furthest from him." Righty followed up. I grinned at the gossiping divas antics.

    "No. They are at post for a reason Kay. This here is a Bronze level area Kay." He said spreading his arms and spinning around like the tool he was. "Where we go now is a Silver level area Kay. I know you may not really understand the scope of what we do here, but this is your birthplace -- and it does a lot more then just island security Kay."

    "Silver. I see" I said with a smirk that simply would not wipe itself from my face. "Is there a General type unit to oversee these droids in this Silver space of yours?"

    We were walking to the back of the hallway toward an elevator bank when I said that, and Vance slowed to a stop and looked at me, annoyance and disbelief on his face. Poker was definitely not his game.

    "I did not build droids Kay and there is absolutely no General Grievous in this building Kay!"

    "Odd how you knew the reference though, isn''t it?"

    "Oh no. I think he''s going to cancel his Crunchy Bowl subscription now" Righty scrolled by with laughing emoticons from various other what I assume were droids in the building.

    "Nah, I''m sure his subscription is on auto-renew." I replied to another round of laughter.

    At that, we stopped in front of the elevator bank, where a green laser scanned us up and down again.

    "Welcome back Professor Vance. Welcome back DetectionUnitK192" a digital voice spoke into the air.

    "Sorry Kay, genius is as is, but he really needs his  theater, y''know?", Audrey, the elevators AI, texted me.

    "Its all good. We all gotta keep up those illusions, doll." I texted back.

    "Audrey, give us a ride to the lab please. Your brother here has an appointment for a check up it seems." Vance said with a snide grin.

    "I just hope you take my insurance Audrey." I said watching a man who had just lost his thunder.

    "Of course we do. Dick"

    We made the drop to the sub level with no further comments or intrusions. The mirror plated elevator took quite a while to get to its intended floor. Not that it was slow as you could feel the inertia of the speed. No, just that the sub level of the Android development lab was pretty far underground is all.

    The good doctor handled the deafening quiet surprisingly well. To be expected of someone who was used to riding in a mirrored elevator for minutes upon minutes every day.

    I''d have to ask Audrey if she had any clips of him picking his teeth or something in the mirrors.

    I could see him doing that as he seems oblivious to the inner life of AI and how it connected with him personally.

    Honestly, people on the Island were almost too comfortable with AI these days. Me? I wouldn¡¯t trust them. Self-hating droid? Maybe.

    The elevator doors finally opened with an old school ding, revealing a pristine, climate-controlled lab, the kind where even dust particles feared to tread. The walls were lined with semi-holographic displays that popped off of the screen but would disappear if seen from the side, blueprint projections on a giant 200 inch screen, and neatly labeled components in vacuum-sealed compartments. Everything about the room screamed efficiency and order.

    That is, until you looked at Vance¡¯s personal workstation¡ªa disaster zone of half-dismantled prototype hands, exposed servos, and a coffee mug dangerously close to a neural interface pad. The only thing keeping it from looking like a junkyard was the fact that every single component was worth more than most people¡¯s homes.

    To the left, rows of synthetic limbs hung on adjustable racks, some appearing fully human, others half-exposed to show the micro-servos beneath. A few even twitched occasionally, running automated dexterity tests.

    Further in, three incomplete android shells rested in containment chambers, their unlit eyes staring blankly outward¡ªhalf-finished designs waiting for activation.

    <i>At the back of the lab, a large suspended platform displayed the next-generation AI body prototype¡ªits skeletal frame sleek, wrapped in skin on either side like an unrolled burrito. The effect was unsettling¡ªalmost alien in design.</i>

    Vance stepped in ahead of me, arms wide like a magician about to unveil his masterpiece.

    "Mr Kay... meet Mr Kay." Pointing to the next-gen model. "Of course some modifications are needed, can''t just give you a prototype body after all" he said mumbling afterward "with their breakdown cycle you wouldn''t last a year."

    "No a few changes and you''ll be all set with this new M36 model. Bespoke body-- ten times better than factory models."

    "A new body? There... has to be a better way." I said as shocked as I''d been in years.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    "Well, yeah, we could give you an upgrade serum--but there''s no time... also TAI was very insistent on this, you are slated for the newest model, just like hers. Looks like your going places, Kay."

    "Yea, to a Thai restaurant on Broadway and Main, and possibly to the CocoBall for a dance or two." I said to a man lost in a conversation that escaped him.

    "Right." Vance said trying to get control of the conversation again. "So. Please undress, upload your back-up on that station there and move unto the induction plate when you are ready." the geek said with the enthusiasm of seeing a real life Pokemon. Something I had no doubt he would build one day.

    "Wait, tell me exactly what this upgrade consist of. Why am I getting... this" I said looking at the exposed cadaver that was currently split open midway through and suspended in front of us."

    "Ah of course. This is the best part I suppose. Now please ignore these rashes here as this model has been actively aging due to some of our test and won''t be an issue on a production model of course. But you can see here at the cervical alignment that the weight ratio has been..." He tech vomited, as I interrupted him.

    "Wait. I don''t understand. We don''t age. Our skin never ages as it''s reconstructed by our nano-bots or so I''m told. Whatever, all I know is we don''t age."

    "Well of course you don''t age, you''re a production model. This... this is a prototype Kay. They have a purposefully induced aging and breakdown structure built right into the substructure. The machines for this unit and a production unit are vastly different. Actually, I''m the only one in the world that has equipment that can do either actually." He said with a cocksure smile.

    "Prototypes. They age? Do they get rashes that cause their skin to be sensitive by chance? Are the bodies traceable like production types?", I asked getting an inkling about our victim.

    "Yes, of course they¡¯re traceable¡ªwhat an idiotic question. Why add anti-theft if we couldn¡¯t track them!? And yes, they age as part of that system. In the completely absurd event that we somehow lost a prototype and couldn¡¯t find it¡ªagain, absurd, absolutely absurd¡ªthen the fail safe ensures it removes itself from commission over time. Still study-able but, better a dead prototype then an active one. My idea by the way. Never trust your tech to be infallible I always say."

    "Dr. Vance. Do they die of old age? Or is there something else?"

    "Kay you are being a bit morbid here. If we can just get back to your new body then we can..." He started to say before a voice came over the lab speakers.

    "Please answer the question Dr Vance." AG said.

    "Oh, of course my liege. Um, uh, no they don''t age out, but instead the neural network in the skin starts to degrade. The degradation itself will eventually fail and any number of malfunctions can occur within the unit, from motor locomotion failing, to electrical shortages to even explosion of the mana unit in the lower back."

    "Electrical shortage you say. Sir, I assume Dr Vance is is cleared for Platinum." I asked into the air.

    "Indeed he is. We should have brought him and Gerald into this sooner actually." AG said over the PA.

    I pulled out my phone and showed the photos of the victim to him.

    <i>¡°Yes, this is exactly how it would look. Though, to be clear, this is the first time we¡¯ve actually seen the anti-theft system in action. We have a strict chain of custody policy¡ªwe always know where every unit is. But good to know those extra three years I insisted on for this feature paid off.¡±</i>

    <i>¡°I need this body, Kay. The data it holds on how the anti-theft system actually played out is invaluable. Also¡­ I suppose I can ID the printer for you.¡±</i> He said it with the smugness of a man who thought he was the smartest in the room.

    <i>¡°Yes. Good job, Elliot. Superb job on this. I¡¯ll have TAI send you the body. Kay, I¡¯ll let you get back to your upgrade.¡±</i>

    "Of course my liege" I said while I nodded my head to AG.

    "Him, not you" I said to the smarmy geek as I pointed up to the ceiling.

    "So summing it up. New armor along the torso and hidden areas. Your face and outer hands will still look and feel human. Touch sensors are enhanced. Gerald''s new GPU will let you actually feel things now to an even further degree than humans. Same for sight and smell.", he laughed at that part and sarcastically said, "Your welcome for that by the way."

    "Faster reflexes. Finger tip processing. You can now data transfer any touch, infrared, magnetic, or mana port through the tip of your finger. We also have a multi-port touch pad for interfacing to legacy systems. Defense systems include a stiletto dagger in the heal of your palm."

    He then raised his finger to make the next point. "It will destroy your palm but it will heal back up in a few hours using your regular nano-bots. Just... dunno, put a bandage on it, I guess." Shrugging as if a huge hole in my hand was no big deal

    "Also¡ªthis one¡¯s not part of your body, but we¡¯ve got a new mana-based coil accelerator pistol for you. It runs off your internal mana reserves, meaning as long as you¡¯ve got air to breathe, you¡¯ve got power for the gun. You provide the bullets, Kay. Finally¡­ your new body''s mana recharge is three times better in terms of speed and quantity of voltage. Any questions? No. Good." He finished his rant by taking a deep breath and pointed toward the induction recharge station that the prototypes use.

    With all the nitty gritty done we called it a night. Three days later I woke up to the same face, but a new body.

    Back at the surface, I had to wait for a new cruiser since Frank took mine. Like my body, this cruiser was a newer model. I might need to have a chat with my new... girlfriend?

    First things first, I headed to my apartment on Beaker. It''s a small cozy place but it''s enough for a single guy that is married to the job. Some of the other guys on the force have hobbies and larger homes, but me, I like keeping my life as straight and focused as an arrow hitting a target. It works for me and I see no need of changing it up any time soon.

    As I approached my apartment I saw a familiar face waiting for me in front. Timmy was reading his tablet like that lost puppy he was as I walked over to him.

    "Hey kid, what brings you around?" I asked waiting for obvious.

    "Hey Kay! I had TAI ping me when you''d be back online. She said you got an upgrade. Anything cool!?"

    "A few nicks and knacks here and there, just staying above inflation type of deal. Ya got another work study going or is this strictly a social visit?" I delivered to the kid. He seemed agitated and had something on his mind so I''d give him the chance to unload. I knew for a fact that he really didn''t pull any friends along with him pass his middle school years. Probably ostracized for being too smart or too famous due to his dad''s reputation. I was probably the only "friend" he had was my guess.

    "Gee, Kay¡­ I guess it is social." he said with a bit of a frown on his face, probably just realizing it himself.

    We walked up the three flights up to my version of the Fortress of Solitude¡ªminus the heroism of course. One bedroom. One chair. One too many coffee rings on the desk. It¡¯s not much, but it¡¯s mine. The fridge hums like a lonely jazz saxophonist, keeping nothing but a tray of ice cubes cold. The bed? Looks like it gets used, but no one really sleeps in it. It¡¯s quiet here¡ªquiet enough to think. That¡¯s all I need.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Timmy said, the illusion cracking¡ªthe first of many heartbreaks, I¡¯m sure¡ªas he saw a hero reduced to nothing more than a man.

    ¡°Yeah, kid, not everyone¡¯s got a big house on a hill. But happiness ain¡¯t about getting what you want¡ªit¡¯s about being happy with what you got.¡±

    ¡°No, no, it¡¯s neat,¡± he said, lying through his teeth as he glanced around.

    I shrugged off my long coat, hung it on the closet hook, and draped my blazer over the back of the chair before sinking into it. Then, with a nod toward the bed, I told him to sit.

    ¡°What¡¯s eating at ya, kid?¡± I finally just asked the million-dollar question.

    ¡°Ah, nothing really. Hey, where¡¯s your induction charger? Is it at the precinct?¡± He deflected.

    ¡°Nah, production models don¡¯t need induction chargers. We convert mana through our skin to charge. Only prototypes need those. Now back to the question¡ªwhat¡¯s up?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, guess nothing gets by you, Kay,¡± he muttered, fidgeting. ¡°Umm¡­ let¡¯s say you had a female friend. A partner, okay? And she was kinda¡­ having you do things you really weren¡¯t ready for yet. How would you go about dissuading her without, ya know, her dragging your reputation through the mud or even getting the authorities involved?¡±

    He shrugged, but it didn¡¯t hide the weight behind his words. Then he looked up at me.

    Typical puberty B.S. Thank god I got to skip all that.

    ¡°Well, first thing¡ªif the authorities are involved, it¡¯s already an issue. So let¡¯s hope that ain¡¯t the case. But otherwise? It¡¯s up to you, kid. If you¡¯re being pushed into something you don¡¯t want, just say no. At this stage in your life, ain¡¯t nothing so important that a ¡®no¡¯ is gonna cause more than some minced words and a death stare.¡±

    "Ah, yea. Got it. Man up, basically." Timmy said, slight disappointment in his tone. But I wasn¡¯t about to rescue the kid from something I had no right sticking my nose in.

    "That all kid? How''s your course work coming along?"

    "Yea, thats it I guess. School''s coming along swell. One more class and I can choose my final internship. TAI said that she approved me to work in the Mansion with AG''s staff! AG himself!" Timmy said, his mood instantly back to popping. "After that I get to choose from acceptance letters into the workforce. Well, not everyone gets that but I already have automatic acceptance letters from my dad''s department, and Dr Vance''s department ''cause I interned for both, and oddly enough I have one from the BioArticial Development department on reputation and grades alone! That one is kinda creepy, if I must say." And he screwed up his face as he said it.

    Not that the kid was wrong. The BioArtifical Development department basically grew organic tissue to test new AI driven medication and vaccine testing. No more human blind test for us. Now we made humans in a test jar, inflicted them with cancer and then applied medicine to see if it went away. Some branches of the department also researched integrating biological components into androids. That part? Absolute nightmare fuel.

    "Well can''t go wrong with the first two, thats for sure. The latter? Takes a special type of someone for that job is all I can say." I said, pulling up some of the newly available historical cases that AG gave me access to for context in our last meeting which concerned  BioArtificial projects.

    "Well, I hate to rush you off, but I need to pack my bags. Got a trip to interrogate an international. I''ll be back soon enough though, you can update me on your little communication problem and the result  then, OK?"

    "Oh yea, sure Kay. Hey, and, uh, thanks for all the time you lend me by the way. I really appreciate it."

    "No problem kid, that''s what I''m here for."

    The kid saw himself out and I packed my clothes for a two week trip. Not that I packed a lot since lack of sweat glands meant not really any stinky clothes. Just replacements in case something got dirty. I took my new pistol out of its sleek new case that Vance gave me and strapped the holster to my belt. Any body could use the new recoil weapon, if they happened to also be able to power it. And since its worked on mana only and only via my body''s internal siphoning conversion, I doubt it would be useful to anyone other then for research. And to that, a nice little explosive was included to the hilt with a remote detonate. I wondered how TAI got that approved for travel but not really, not my worry. As long as I didn''t go to New York City, I should be set.

    Murphy is always a funny guy. Lo and behold I landed in Venice a full two days behind schedule after a quick layover in New York City.

    And of course, that turned into a complete shit show of security theater. Apparently diplomatic immunity in Italy, does not apply to America when switching planes.

    TAI had to pull some political magic while I was held in a holding cell.

    Fun, if not boring times. Although having a lack of finger prints was somewhat fun to watch the cops try to work around.

    <i>When I landed at Marco Polo Airport in Venice, TAI rang me up in my head. Different from back home¡ªhad to actually accept the call this time. Kinda nice, actually.</i>

    "Kay, be aware that Frank has been tailed by an unregistered drone after inquiring about Falieri in the consulate. Military-grade. Stealth tech. We¡¯re tracking it now. Kay, you¡¯re in hostile waters now. Good luck." she said about to close out the communique.

    "And Kay, bring me back something nice."

    Lovely. I wonder what a good gift from a war zone looks like. Maybe she''d appreciate a grenade?

 Ch.7 - Phantoms In Tailored Suits

    Inspector Vincenzo Rinaldi met me at the airport, pulling up in a sleek, compact Alfa Romeo MiTo. He emerged from the car already mid-conversation, speaking animatedly into his earpiece in a local Italian dialect at a speed and pitch higher than standard human tolerances recommended.

    "Ah, fantastic! The pain in my ass finally arrives," he exclaimed, throwing his hands theatrically into the air as he approached. "Thanks to him, I was stuck in traffic for two hours! Expert bullshit-maker from the island who loves blowing things up¡ªwonderful! Now I''ve got to babysit his ass for the next two weeks! Gotta go!"

    He abruptly ended his call, pocketing the device, and glided to a stop in front of me, switching seamlessly to accented but impeccable English.

    "Detective Kay, benvenuto a Venezia," he said, offering a sarcastic flourish of his hand. "I''m sure your stay will be as resplendent as possible with all the beauty that our fair city has to offer Detective."

    "I''m sure it''ll show me what it wants to show." I  responded with a firm handshake. I met his grip firmly but didn¡¯t return the squeeze. If I did, I might crush his hand, and that wouldn¡¯t be great for international relations.

    This also told me something pretty important. They didn''t know I was an Android.

    "I''d like to stop at my hotel quickly to drop off my clothes and then goto headquarters to see your setup If that¡¯s possible, Inspector¡­ Rin¡­ Rinaldi? May I call you Vinny? Just easier for me. I''m not that great with names."

    The curly-haired man simply nodded, mumbling a quick, dismissive ¡®Certo, certo¡¯ as he popped open the back hatch. I shoved my large bag inside and swung the hatch closed¡ªnearly taking my fingers with it.

    I managed to cram myself into the front seat, my knees in front of my face and the headrest cramming me forward. Luckily I couldn''t feel pain or discomfort so I simply grunted for appearances and looked out the window to the 15 minute ride to my hotel.

    Vinny narrated the streets like a tour guide, rattling off the best gelato spots and historical tidbits between complaints about tourists. I let him talk, filing away the useful details while staring out at the canals and tight alleyways.

    TAI had set me up at the NH Venezia Santa Lucia¡ªa sleek junior suite, just flashy enough to convince the locals I was an important AI security consultant sent from Tulanto, and sufficiently discreet for private investigation. More importantly the hotel was a quick walk to the Venice police headquarters, known as Questura di Venezia in the Santa Croce district.

    Like many hotels it overlooked the Grand Canal, and was a picture enthusiast wet dream. Luckily for me everything I saw was computer vision and yet another series of pictures.

    I registered at the front desk and had them take up the luggage. I didn''t really need to see or enjoy the room that I would hardly be in, so I turned around and told Vinny that I''d like to walk over. The joy on Vinny''s face at the prospect was so evident on his jolly round face that even his thick hanging mustache seemed to be smiling.

    As we walked at my pace, he filled the time talking about the beauty of Venice and places to take me to enjoy the bounties of the historic city. By the time we reached the Questura, Vinny was breathing like a man who¡¯d just climbed five flights of stairs, his mustache twitching with every labored inhale. He barely reached my shoulder, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in stamina¡ªjust enough to keep up and still complain the whole way.

    We entered the headquarters through a back door reserved for police officers. Vinny got me set up with my clearance papers at a slow, deliberate pace.

    I heard him bad mouth me to at least 3 different officers between that time and finally we got to meet the Chief Domenico Conti.

    "Hello, Detective Kay, I hope you arrived in good health" he said in Italian, which was interpreted by Vinny.

    I winked at Vinny, and replied back in Italian, ¡°I¡¯ve had worse trips, Chief. I¡¯ve been looking forward to sharing my island¡¯s best practices with you. Ready to start the audit immediately.¡± To say Vinny was surprised would be an understatement.

    We spoke for about thirty minutes as I outlined the five W¡¯s of my cyber-expert cover assignment¡ªa simple task for me.

    Leaving the office, Vinny tailed behind me as we went to the Cybersecurity department, and asked me why I didn''t tell him I knew Italian.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t ask. Figured you were practicing your English.¡± I said it straight-faced, but I caught the way Vinny¡¯s mustache bristled in annoyance. Worth it.

    I plugged in a PD issued loaner laptop and got to work examining their data feeds from various sources including Interpol, five eyes, NYPD, FBI, and other law enforcement intelligence organizations world wide. People never realize how internationally connected international cities really are.

    I set up a Datamart¡ªa specialized database that pulled specifically flagged intelligence from agentic AI routines. Basically it filtered out the noise, linked like issues, flagged anomalies from multiple sources, and compiled them into reports for review.

    I linked up with TAI for field updates and to verify my work¡ªshe had me scale back the app before I published it to the network. In two hours, I had produced what a human team would take a year or two to accomplish.

    With that done, I tested out my new toy¡ªthe legacy touchpad¡ªto pull Italy¡¯s intelligence reports from AISE through a series of proxies.

    Surprisingly, there wasn¡¯t much in digital format. Most files referenced dead drops¡ªbut never where to find them.

    I guess the spooks¡¯ cloak-and-dagger playbook banned digital storage. Smart.

    Now I had to find a lead¡ªin a city I didn¡¯t know, on the other side of the world¡ªwith my very own Italian version of Inspector Clouseau shadowing me. First order of business: ditch the guy.

    The guy was slumped behind me, bored out of his mind, playing a pay-to-win phone game¡ªand judging by the number of transactions, he was definitely paying. He sat in an old chair that must¡¯ve come with the building, its creaky frame protesting every time he shifted. I think I even heard him snore once or twice.

    I turned around and said to him "Ah, finally done!".

    He jolted upright, processing what I¡¯d just said, then broke into a grin. ¡®Great! It¡¯s just about dinner time, and I know this fantastic restaurant with a beautiful bar! You¡¯re gonna love it!¡¯

    "Sounds super, champ. But first, one last task before we call it a night. Actually, Vinny, I could use your help. I¡¯ve got reports to cross-check against Interpol and local databases to validate this Datamart¡¯s output¡ªshouldn¡¯t take more than three hours. Mostly just verifying case codes and running compliance checks. Tedious, but important. You in?"

    I¡¯d actually finished that over an hour ago, but he didn¡¯t need to know that.

    "Ehhh, you know, actually, I want to¡ªbut look at the time, Kay! You¡¯re a beast of burden! I¡¯ve got a family! I gotta handle things back at home, you know how it is, right? If I leave you here, you got this, yeah? No problem getting back to the hotel, no?"

    ¡°Oh, yeah, no worries. Get home. I¡¯ll see you here later.¡±

    And with that, the small man threw on his blazer and I assumed he would slip out of the building as fast and quietly as possible.

    "Detective, the Chief must like you already, he told me to tell you that he''s getting questions about you for outside sources."

    ¡°Noted,¡± I said, waving him off. ¡°See you later, Vinny.¡±

    I stayed another hour mostly to amuse myself, before heading to the hotel.

    AISE had been tracing the breach for a while now, but I kept rerouting them¡ªbouncing my signal through half a dozen international servers, dragging them in circles. I gave them false leads, set up temporary decoys, even let them think they were closing in a few times before pulling the rug out from under them. If they¡¯re already asking questions, might as well keep them entertained.

    The night air was cool, and the streets were quiet. I took my time, hands in my pockets, watching the city move. AISE was probably still tripping over their own feet. I¡¯d check in on them later.

    Then¡ªbump.

    It wasn¡¯t much. Just enough pressure to register as someone passing too close in an otherwise empty street. I could check the footage later if it was anything. I kept walking, but my right hand grazed my coat pocket on instinct.

    Something was inside that hadn¡¯t been there before.

    No footsteps followed. No hurried retreat. Just Venice, moving like it always did.

    I waited until I reached the next streetlamp before checking¡ªand found a note written in Japanese. 11 PM. Harry¡¯s Bar. Mai.

    Looks like I had plans tonight after all.

    I shot TAI a quick update. She replied that the name was a generic cover, which I already had guessed.

    I decided to take the 25 minute walk over to the legendary bar instead of taking a Vaporetto and risking wet suit pants. I took off my tie, placed it into my pocket and bit into the tail end of my cigar. I should make it to the bar about 10 minutes before 11pm at my current pace.

    Harry¡¯s Bar wasn¡¯t just a bar. It was an institution. The fact that Mai picked this place meant that I was basically already in a Bond story. May as well accept it and live up to the illusion. Obviously someone went to great lengths to speak to me, and I wouldn''t leave them disappointed.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    I hit St. Mark¡¯s Square and took a moment to look around. Even at this hour, it was busy¡ªpeople moving to and fro at a rapid pace.

    During the walk, I studied the tape of Mai slipping me the note and found that the Mai in that tape¡ªunless deliberately misleading¡ªwasn¡¯t a woman. So either he was a guy, or she had a partner. My espionage training strongly suggested the latter.

    It was time to take my AI Unit¡¯s theoretical knowledge, stack it against real-world neural network experience, and see how well they aligned.

    I stepped through the doors of Harry¡¯s Bar, the soft murmur of conversation mixing with the clink of glasses and the faint scent of old wood and fresh cocktails. The place wasn¡¯t large¡ªjust a handful of tables, warm lighting, and the quiet hum of money in the air.

    The ma?tre d¡¯, a wiry man in a crisp white jacket, looked me over the way only seasoned staff in places like this could¡ªpolite, practiced, and subtly assessing if I belonged. I didn¡¯t hesitate.

    ¡°Table for two. She¡¯ll meet me.¡±

    The phrasing wasn¡¯t a request. It wasn¡¯t a question. Just a statement.

    The ma?tre d¡¯ gave a professional nod and gestured toward a table near the side of the room¡ªgood sight lines, discreet enough, but not in a forgotten corner. Smart choice.

    As I settled into my seat, the ma?tre d¡¯ took a step back, giving me the slightest nod before turning to leave. Smooth, professional¡ªjust like I expected.

    I slipped a folded bill between my fingers and let my hand drift just enough for him to notice. No theatrics. No need for words.

    He paused, then took it with the same quiet efficiency, the exchange lasting less than a second.

    ¡°For the hospitality,¡± I said, barely above a murmur.

    ¡°Naturally, sir,¡± he replied, tucking it away without so much as a glance.

    He didn¡¯t need to check how much it was. He knew it was enough.

    I slid into the chair and let my fingers drum lightly against the tabletop, taking in the room. Wealthy regulars, quiet tourists trying to pretend they weren¡¯t, a couple of older gentlemen locked in hushed conversation over whiskey. Classic scene.

    A waiter appeared almost immediately, dressed in the same pristine uniform, already holding a menu. I pulled a bill from my pocket and slid it across the table before he could say a word. Not ostentatious, not a bribe¡ªjust an introduction.

    ¡°I expect good service,¡± I said, voice even. ¡°And a quiet table.¡±

    He barely glanced at the bill before tucking it away, his nod almost imperceptible.

    ¡°Of course, sir.¡±

    I leaned back and bit down lightly on the tail end of my cigar¡ªunlit, but enough to keep my hands busy. The drink could wait. For now, I wanted to see if my ghost would actually show up.

    And show up she did. Miss Mai walked into the bar like she owned the place, tall confident with strong legs that went on for days.

    Harry''s Bar was sure to have seen it''s fair share of beautiful women, some bold, and others dangerous, but this dame pulled them all together into a coup de grace that few others could match by demeanor alone.

    She saw me right away and walked directly to me. The ma?tre d¡¯ simply looked at me and nodded, as I nodded back.  Mai''s red dress, a red that was deep and closer to blood or burgundy then anything Hollywood sell you in a cheap weekend movie. It was the kind of red that spoke volumes about its filler, the kind of red that didn''t need to announce itself as it already knew you were looking.

    The fabric hung her just enough to be elegant and yet still told a story of what could be. It glided rather than clung. The slit just high enough to be dangerous.

    And Kay had seen plenty of women in plenty of dresses in his time, but for some reason, one specific woman sat in his mind¡ªperched in a chair at a table that could hold up empires. Maybe that chat with TAI has to happen sooner than later.

    "Mr. Richard Kay, it''s a pleasure to finally meet you, my name is Mai Kobayashi, and I hope we can have an interesting conversation tonight." she said in fluent English.

    I stood and took her offered hand, "Pleasure is all mine mam" I said in fluent Japanese--setting the language for the night, and gently kissed the top, following around to pull her chair out like a real man should.

    Sitting back down, I let her order her drinks and when the waiter left I asked the question of the moment.

    "I couldn''t help but notice that a lot of these bathrooms here don''t have toilet paper. Does that seem odd to you Ms. Kobayashi?"

    Her laugh was as beautiful as the rest of her, and I couldn''t help but notice men look over as she giggled to my joke.

    ¡°So, now that the ice is broken, Ms. Kobayashi¡ª¡±

    She interrupted smoothly. ¡°Call me Mai.¡±

    ¡°Fine, Mai. Call me Kay. So, what did you want to see me about?¡±

    She leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow on the table as she swirled her drink. ¡°So, what would you say to the idea of¡­ say, six or seven Tulanto androids being illegally imported here over the last year?¡± She let the number sit there, just long enough to measure my reaction before continuing. ¡°Would that get a guy like you to finally accept Italy¡¯s open invitation to tech trade¡ªespecially after Mt. Etna? You know, after the last time?¡±

    I took a slow sip of my drink, letting the moment stretch before answering. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know, Mai.¡±

    A flicker of something crossed her face¡ªnot surprise, just calculation. She tilted her glass, watching the liquid shift. ¡°I just find it odd that the isolationist island, out of the blue, suddenly offers assistance to Italy of all places.¡± Her voice stayed even, but there was a deliberate slowness to her words now, like she was circling a point. ¡°I would think they already served your purposes once, right Kay? No need to piss them off again.¡±

    I rolled the glass in my hand, letting the condensation bead on my fingers. ¡°For the record, they did invite us in to help that time¡ªand we did.¡± I let that sit before adding, ¡°Ten thousand people in Zafferana Etnea are alive today because of us.¡±

    She didn¡¯t blink. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know, Kay. I just know what I read.¡±

    I smirked. ¡°Indeed. Gotta keep up one¡¯s illusions, Mai.¡±

    We drank in silence.

    Then, without missing a beat, she shifted gears. ¡°Bidets, Kay.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°The cleanest method of toiletry,¡± she said, taking a slow sip of her drink.

    I leaned back slightly, watching her now, not the other way around.

    ¡°No need to clean up your mess if you execute perfectly, Kay. That''s why there is no toilet paper. Call it a test of skill¡± she said, laughing off the silliness of the statement.

    I let the words hang in the air before giving her a cheeky smile. ¡°Again, I wouldn¡¯t know.¡±

    She rolled her eyes, amused, but then something flickered behind them¡ªsomething shifting, recalculating.

    Her smirk lingered, but I could see the wheels turning now. The joke had landed, sure, but now she was thinking.

    A stupid answer after a series of perfect ones? No. That wasn¡¯t a stupid answer.

    It was a perfect answer.

    She swallowed lightly, the kind of movement most people wouldn¡¯t notice. ¡°Um¡­¡± she started, clearing her throat. ¡°Uh¡­ are¡ªwould you happen to be one?¡±

    I didn¡¯t blink. Didn¡¯t flinch. Just rolled the ice in my glass and met her eyes.

    ¡°Are we that close already, Mai? I¡¯m not asking you about your chromosomes yet, am I?¡±

    She blinked, just once, but it was enough. Now I had her attention.

    Too much attention.

    The conversation had shifted¡ªnot just from playful to serious, but from power play to something deeper, something primal.

    For the first time tonight, she wasn¡¯t thinking about the deal.

    She was thinking about what was sitting across from her. She was thinking about me.

    Her fingers were still wrapped around the stem of her glass, but when she went to set it down, there was the faintest tremor. A ripple across the surface of her drink. A soft clink of glass meeting wood, just a little off-center.

    I let the silence stretch just long enough to let her own thoughts start to turn against her. Let her feel the weight of what she had just asked. Let her wonder if she had gone too far.

    Then, right before she could decide to cut and run, I loosened the noose.

    I reached for my glass, took a slow sip, and set it down with a quiet clink. Casual. Deliberate. Grounding.

    ¡°In Tulanto, a favor is as good as gold.¡± I let that settle, watching her closely, giving her something else to focus on. Something safe.

    ¡°So I¡¯ll ask¡ªwhat kind of assistance can the great nation of Japan offer to humble little Tulanto in our time of need¡­ to possibly earn itself a favor?¡±

    The tension didn¡¯t disappear, but it shifted. Her expression flickered¡ªnot relief, but understanding.

    The tremor was gone now.

    Fear was one thing. Opportunity was another.

    And greed? That was universal.

    No immediate reaction. Just the slight shift of her posture, the controlled stillness that came when someone was deciding how much to give away.

    I just needed her to know there was a deal to be made.

    I didn¡¯t need an answer right away and motioned for another round.

    Mai exhaled softly, just barely noticeable, as she picked up her fresh drink.

    Not a retreat. A recalibration.

    She took a slow sip, letting the ice clink softly against the glass before setting it down¡ªthis time without a tremor.

    ¡°Information for a round of diplomatic talks,¡± she said finally, her tone measured, composed again. ¡°You have questions. I have answers. In return, Tulanto opens the door for a conversation between my people and yours. No commitments. Just a talk.¡±

    She was watching me closely now, gauging my reaction the way I had been gauging hers. A careful counter-move. A way to reframe the power dynamic without pushing too hard.

    I smirked, rolling the glass in my fingers. ¡°A simple conversation? You make it sound so harmless.¡±

    ¡°Because it is.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow at that.

    She smiled¡ªsmooth, practiced. Back in her element. ¡°Come on, Kay. You know how this game works. Nothing happens in a vacuum. Your island holds the single most advanced AI economy on the planet, and yet, somehow, you still pretend you¡¯re just a footnote in global politics.¡±

    I let the words hang between us for a moment before replying, ¡°We hold more than just AI, Mai.¡± I leaned forward slightly, my voice steady. ¡°Mana power, medicine¡ªand the OG of them all, matter disintegration. I¡¯m not sure a talk would just be about AI.¡±

    Her smile didn¡¯t slip, but I caught the way she inhaled just a fraction deeper, steadying herself. The moment wasn¡¯t lost on her.

    Then I leaned back slightly. ¡°And here I thought you just wanted to let us know where our androids are.¡±

    A flicker of amusement crossed her expression, but she didn¡¯t take the bait. ¡°As I said, nothing happens in a vacuum.¡±

    I took another sip, letting the ice cool my tongue. ¡°So if I agree to this little exchange¡­ what do I get in return, right now?¡±

    Her smile didn¡¯t falter. ¡°A name.¡±

    That was interesting.

    ¡°A name,¡± I repeated, watching her.

    She tilted her head slightly. ¡°The name of the person responsible for smuggling Tulanto-made androids into Italy. You came here looking for ghosts in tailored suits, Kay. I can tell you who dressed them.¡±

    I didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Mateo Falieri, right? What we need is his records¡ªand him, if possible.¡±

    That was the test. If she balked, I¡¯d know she was feeding me scraps.

    If she bit, we were in business.

    Mai¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, but I caught the way her fingers tensed just slightly around the stem of her glass. A small hesitation. Reluctance.

    ¡°I know local info brokers who may know where some caches are,¡± she said carefully, choosing her words like a woman walking a tightrope.

    Not a confirmation. Not a refusal. A middle ground.

    I let the silence sit, watching her.

    Then I smirked. ¡°So, a maybe. A lead for a lead.¡±

    She exhaled softly, shaking her head just a fraction. ¡°You¡¯re not going to make this easy, are you?¡±

    I tapped a finger against my glass. ¡°Not my job to make things easy, Mai. My job is to make sure Tulanto doesn¡¯t get played.¡±

    Her lips pressed together, considering. Then, finally, she took a slow sip, set her glass down, and met my gaze.

    ¡°The brokers work in layers,¡± she admitted. ¡°I can get you in the first door. Anything beyond that?¡± She tilted her head. ¡°Depends on what you¡¯re willing to trade.¡±

    I didn¡¯t answer immediately. Instead, I called up TAI.

    Her response came back before Mai could even take another breath. Greenlit. Contact initiated.

    I nodded once. ¡°Done.¡±

    Mai¡¯s brows lifted slightly, like she hadn¡¯t expected an answer that fast. She adjusted quickly, slipping back into her polished diplomatic act. ¡°Great. When can you ask your people to contact mine?¡±

    I swirled the ice in my glass, letting the moment stretch. Then, casually, I met her gaze.

    ¡°No, Mai. It¡¯s already done. The sit-down is scheduled.¡± I let the weight of that settle before adding, ¡°So I really hope you can deliver.¡±

    She blinked¡ªjust once¡ªbut I saw it. Not surprise. Not quite. Just the realization that she had miscalculated my timing.

    And that I wasn¡¯t giving her room to back out.

    Her expression didn¡¯t falter, but she blinked again¡ªslower this time, processing. Not surprise. Not quite. But understanding. She reached for her drink, but this time, it wasn¡¯t casual. It was deliberate. In one motion she drank the rest of the cup down.

    "Welcome to the to team, kid." I said with a smile and raised my glass and downed my own.

 Ch.8 - Was it worth the favor?

    <hr>

    The canal stretched dark and quiet beside them, the waters reflecting the soft glow of street lamps. Mai and I walked arm in arm, our pace slow¡ªnot for romance, but for observation. The early morning hour meant fewer crowds, fewer moving pieces in this chess game to observe.

    I was loose as a screw in a carny rollercoaster, admiring the water as it flowed along unworried and persistent. Mai, on the other hand had the veneer of the cat catching the mouse by the tail and letting it go, but underneath, emotions, fears, and uncertainties pressed against the floodgates.

    "Your guy is getting too close. Tenbin." I said to Mai, calling her out by her official code name.

    Her eyes opened in shock for less than a second and then she was back. Cool as a cucumber and calm as a lake.

    I had intercepted her info from her voice comms in the restaurant earlier, before I jammed them for our conversation. The line was open now, via my proxy -- offering superior encryption -- as a sign of good intentions. "I''ll call him Provost and I''ll hug him and love him forever." I gibbed to a laughing Mai. I also let them know their oopsy to which he double clicked his mic in confirmation.

    Firmware updates will kill ya in this game. Literally.

    Mai tsk''d at no one in particular and out of alley way to our right emerged a well built yet average looking man leaning over to pick up a well planted box while looking over to us, nodding and just as quickly disappeared into the shadows.

    We walk back toward my hotel. Just making idle conversation. I was an actively negging her on her relation with Provost, just trying to chip away at the indifferent vestige she clung to like a life preserver at sea.

    "Lovers maybe? He looked like he has a lot of endurance." I said smirking at her seeing the annoyance build.

    "Are you always this annoying Detective? " she smiled back.

    "I try."

    ¡°Are you always this insufferable?¡± She sighed, swirling her takeaway drink before taking a slow sip.

    "Are you always so evasive for someone who want''s to build a friendship"

    "Not a friendship Kay--trust." She said and laid her head on my shoulder. I harrumphed and we kept walking.

    "Besides our friend Provost, I count four more tails. The Italians, most likely¡­ or maybe some other friends tagging along for our date."

    The mic clicked once, then twice more in fast succession, which I had to assume was an internal code but didn''t take a Timmy to figure out they didn''t know about our tails. Maybe the code was a preset action plan? Smart.

    Mai finally showed a true reaction closing her eyes tightly and curling her hand into a tight fist. In terms of spy craft this was a major loss of face.

    Also smart, unfortunately, were the comms these tails were using. They had to be using AI based encryption because every time I got a word decrypted intrusion protection would kick off, the algorithm would dynamically change and I''d have to start all over again. I kept it up just to keep burning their cycles, nothing as sophisticated as a multiphase denial-of-service attack , an oldie but a goodie, or anything else to really occupy their resources. Just enough to let the AI know ''I see you'', just enough for plausible deniability, and keep them on their toes.

    "Seems we''re playing with the big boys here. Quant-encryption. Military grade", Mai''s eyes tightening as I said it.

    This reminded me that I had to kill the AISE trace that I was still tinkering with all night. I could keep this up infinitely but it was an entertainment that had lost its gloss by now, so I rerouted them into a deeper trail which would tie them up through morning and eventually end somewhere in South America.

    "Have fun in Paraguay, boys." I mumbled to myself.

    Mai looked up at me skeptically, shook her head and asked him "What are you saying?"

    "Just thinking about checking in on an old friend."

    She took my hand into her smaller delicate hand and said, "There''s your hotel." Followed by a muted silence.

    She finally broke the moment and said "I guess this is where we part ways" as I felt a small micro usb chip no bigger then a thumbnail pressed into my palm and unbeknownst to her was able to read its contents right away and sync it to TAI, who had been a quiet passenger along the entire walk. Unusual.

    The data was mostly duplicate data we had already found on Falieri, but some of it filled in gaps from local observation.

    Things like daily routines as well as panic-routes for when he felt pressed. Seems he has eight different variations of escape route leading to 3 different places before he was lost. Impressive.

    "Yea it''s probably time to hit the hay. But, anything else before we go?"

    She leaned up for a cheek kiss and whispered "Valiant roads lead to imperiled lives," followed by an address. This was the info agent. She came out of the embrace studying my face for any reaction. Studying her current ally.

    Studying a potential future enemy.

    "Fancy words. You get those in a fortune cookie?¡±

    A grin broke her facade, and she shook her head with a slight giggle slipping out.

    We left promising to stay in touch. One trail followed her leaving behind three for myself.

    ¡°Seems like you¡¯ve still got it, Kay,¡± TAI said as I walked toward the hotel.

    ¡°Do I now?¡± I smirked, flicking a glance at a rare reflection of my remaining tails in a shop window. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s something you¡¯re looking to take away?¡±

    She let the silence stretch just long enough to be deliberate. ¡°Now why would I do that?¡±

    I chuckled, stepping off the curb without breaking stride. ¡°Because, TAI, I still got it. And you want it.¡±

    ¡°Interesting perspective,¡± she mused.

    TAI didn¡¯t respond with anything else, field info or otherwise, but I caught the faintest uptick in processing lag before the line went dead.

    She¡¯d let me have that one.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    For now.

    <hr>

    I sat in a comfortable Parisian style chair in the dark going over my own data marts setup for this case. I was technically asleep to the rest of the world after all. It was a relentless job trudging over this data but I had time and to be honest I didn''t get bored in the same ways organics did.

    But now, it was wrongly quiet. Unnaturally still.

    In the modern world, just like in the natural world, there''s always some noise. Now, there was nothing. Five minutes ago, the HVAC cut off mid-cycle¡ªnot a routine pause, but a deliberate kill. I could tell that the power went out and assumed a small brownout -- they happened all too often these days, but now I noticed nothing restarted and after an active check the electromagnetic pull from the hallway said power there was still flowing.

    Power was still flowing outside. Just my room was dark. And the phone line? Dead. Isolated. Guess there goes my morning wake up call. Vinny was going to be pissed -- I could just tell.

    I smirked, pulling my pistol¡ª15 armor-piercing slugs, custom-milled. A quiet problem solver.

    I revved mana through my palm into the gun, and pointed at the door, which now I could tell was being quietly worked on by true professionals.

    They were hand-drilling the lock. No power tools. No sparks. No noise. They wanted in, but they didn¡¯t want to announce it. Smart. I was really starting to hate smart bad guys.

    My sensors detected a thin stream of gas seeping under the door¡ªslow, deliberate. So it was a smash and grab--me being the grab.

    Well who ever was coming through that door was in for a surprise. I pulled a tablet in front of my pistol put my feet up on the foot stool that accompanied the chair -- rough rug like material that matched the chairs design. I may need to upgrade my chair at home soon. I lowered my head to the side and made it look like I had fallen asleep reading.

    Funny thing about androids¡ªwe don¡¯t need eyes to see. WiFi waves, ambient signals, my own transmissions let me bounce back images just like radar. The room unfolded in detail, brighter than daylight.

    The door finally cracked open. I couldn''t hear them talking, but I saw the encrypted comms going crazy. They were probably using throat based mics. No words ever needed to be said with those and only elite units used them due to the amount of practice required to master them.

    The first guy came through the door in a low squat gun out and infrared goggles on. He looked straight at me and said something as I saw his Adams apple slightly move about his Kevlar armor, or maybe it was DragonScale armor instead, the later focused on close range knife penetration protection, which may have been what they thought I was capable of as consultant Kay.

    I fired my pistol. The recoilless shot off almost without a sound, sharing only a slight spinning of its motors. All they would hear was a cheap fidget spinner if anything. A fidget spinner that could throw out a metallic object at near sound barrier speeds that is. Thankfully no sonic boom on these models. I''d have to talk to Vance about that.

    The first infiltrator crumpled, his hip snapping like dry wood. His rifle spun from his grip, clattering away. His semiautomatic of German make spiraling across the floor.

    Before he could actually hit the floor I shot at the second soldier through his arms, akimbo, as they showed a clear path to spook two aiming his gun. The subsonic round hit the man''s wrist tearing it a part. Luckily for him they make good prosthetics these days, another major export of the Island.

    "Man down!, evac!" I heard the first one squeak out in a distinctly American accent.

    "Six-man black ops team. One female handler. Two securing exits. Two on overwatch. Last one¡ªlikely overseeing comms. Could be in the lobby. Could be outside." TAI said in my head.

    I had called her up as soon as I realized their plan. We spent the drawn out time - hundreds of seconds --  discussing our situation. So far it''s been a fruitful day.

    The third man peeked in and threw a flash bang, the disoriented grunts on the floor scrambling to cover their eyes with their hands, for one his lack there of. He''ll get over it.

    I let the third man peek again. Bad idea. I yanked him in by the hair¡ªhe fought, fast, but I was faster. I drove him into the floor, hard enough to crack bone.

    May need surgery. TriMed covers concussions, right?

    I walked out the door to be met with the final guy. I was fully prepared to dodge around a bit and avoid damage but it didn''t happen. 4th guy retreated -- on orders I assume.

    Mentioning that the guys were ''still alive, for now'', may have helped.

    I took the stairs down to the lobby as I was still tracing the encrypted US comms to its common denominator. Black jacket, big glasses, straight out of a north shore New Jersey ad, was the handler. I walked toward the door, as she checked me out in a cool detached way. When I passed in front of her I stopped, turned and tipped my hat.

    "Ma¡¯am, better check your room for vermin. Found four rats in mine. Pretty sure two more are still on the rooftops."

    As I point to the ceiling.

    She stared as me her jaw slightly apart, weighting her options for escape.

    Then I continued to walk out swiftly through to the shadowed docks, the soft lapping of the canal masking his steps.

    The narrow alley behind the hotel opened up to a small private pier, where a gondola swayed gently in the water, its oars resting in place.

    The gondolier? Asleep.

    Curled up under a thick, old jacket, his hat pulled low over his face, boots propped against the wooden side. Dead to the world.

    Considering my options, I didn''t have many. The Grand Canal is too exposed, a water taxi would be too loud and too easy to track. I need quiet and unnoticed.

    I looked back toward the alley and sighed. Never the easy way is seemed.  Footsteps. Distant, but moving.

    I jumped onto the gondola, barely disturbing the balance, and nudged the side of the gondolier with my foot trying not to startle him. Instead the gondolier let out a light snore. I crouch next to him and taps his shoulder but nothing.

    A light shake. Still nothing.

    I sighed again as the footsteps start to reveal the Jersey shore lady. Leaning over I whisper shout into his ear, low and firm, ¡°100 euros if you get me out of here. Now.¡±

    The gondolier snorts awake, mumbling something about tourists and ¡°non ¨¨ ora¡±¡ªnot the time¡ªbefore blinking at the shadow looming over him.

    Gun in one hand, money in the other planted in front of his face.

    "Now."

    Then, a slow, resigned sigh as the gondolier begrudgingly sits up, rubs his face, and grabs the oar.

    A second later, the gondola glides into the quiet waters, disappearing into the labyrinth of Venice¡¯s canals.

    I look back to see Jersey staring at us and pissed.

    I can handle a black ops team. But an angry Karen? Different story. I patted the gondolier¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You and me, pal. New best friends."

    The gondolier, for his part, was purposely ignoring my existence. Smart.

    The ride to Rialto Market at 4 o''clock in the morning was beautiful and relatively long for the gondolier at 35 minutes.

    During that time I put a call into Mai, who didn''t pick up until the 3rd attempt. Something was wrong. She sounded different.

    ¡°Kay, that tail¡­ Provost. He¡¯s gone.¡±

    Her voice was steadier than I expected. Too steady. But there was something under it. Something raw.

    ¡°They came for us.¡± A slow inhale, like she was steadying herself. ¡°And he¡ªhe held them off while I ran. I ran, Kay.¡±

    For once, I was honestly at a loss for words. TAI was the one who stepped in.

    ¡°Mai, make it to a safe house. I¡¯m sure you have some. Go there now.¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer. Just silence.

    I took over. ¡°Can you do that, Mai?¡± Trying to soften the tone.

    A breath. Shaky.

    ¡°I had two safe houses.¡± A humorless chuckle, quiet. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter now.¡±

    A beat. Then, quieter: ¡°I called my handler, Kay. Standard protocol. They were supposed to extract me for the sit down.¡±

    A pause. Too long.

    ¡°He told me¡­¡± She exhaled, and I could hear it¡ªslow, measured, the kind of breath you take when you¡¯re trying not to fall apart. ¡°That I was free to the wind.¡±

    Still flat. Still quiet.

    But now, I caught it. Not just processing. Distrust.

    ¡°They cut me loose, Kay.¡±

    Then, softer. ¡°They knew.¡±

    It was barely a whisper.

    ¡°They didn¡¯t just leave me. They waited. They were already there.¡±

    The silence stretched.

    ¡°I ran, Kay. And Provost¡­¡± Another pause. "My love." A whisper. This one worse than the rest. ¡°He didn¡¯t.¡±

    She didn¡¯t need to say the rest.

    He wasn¡¯t just trying to protect her. He had turned on his own team.

    And they¡¯d put him down for it.

    Her breath hitched, just once, before she caught it. She was good. One of the best. But even the best break when they realize their entire world just turned to ash.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do.¡±

    "Meet me where I''m going Mai. Do you understand? Where I''m going. Meet me now.".

    Silence for a bit continued.

    "Yeah. I''ll be there. Be safe Kay you''re probably next." she said and hung up the line.

    I didn''t want to tell her about the black ops team. She had enough to worry about. I wasn''t being saint either. I didn''t want her to somehow blame me for Provost''s death through some type mental gymnastics.

    "Kay. Grab her. Get to these coordinates at any cost. It''s time to regroup." TAI said.

 Ch.9 - The Tailorâ€™s Thread

    Mai pressed herself flat against the stone wall of the alleyway entrance, eyes darting as she peeked around the corner into the square. She had a hoodie on, athletic gear underneath, and a pair of Momotaro jeans she picked up with Yasoba Shinya, aka Provost, a few years back. Like her, the jeans were in rough shape.

    She was looking toward the bookstore¡ªwhere my info broker was holed up. From the way she was moving, she was trying to catch me before I got there. Too bad for her¡ªI was already here.

    The streets weren¡¯t crowded¡ªtoo early for the usual morning rush¡ªbut there were enough people to make tailing someone a careful game of patience. She moved cautiously, weight balanced, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

    I crept up behind her, silent as politician being asked to answer a real question. One hand cupped her mouth, braced against the wall beside her head so she didn''t bash her skull in with her struggles, picking her up one armed by the waist and pulling her into the shadows of the alleyway and put her down away from prying eyes.

    To say she freaked out is an understatement as she wiggled around like a fish out of water.

    A sharp inhale¡ªher body jerked, legs flailing. A practiced fist cracked against my temple, a boot slammed into my foot. It probably would¡¯ve hurt too.

    I shushed her and said "It''s me, Mai. Calm down."

    Her head flicked back, wild and still full of fight as recognition took its place. She calmed, and as she stilled and as I took my hands off her she slammed her elbow deep into my ribs. Internal alerts actually went off registering the impact. Impressive.

    "Asshole!" She said in a forced whisper twirling around, with fist held high and clobbered me on the shoulder. Again, an alert. Tough girl.

    "Oof" I said chuckling, "Nice to see you too sweetheart".

    "Oh screw you, you, you--Gadget wannabe!"

    I grinned. She was flustered and digging deep it seemed.

    "I''m hurt Mai, does that make you my Penny? Go go... " I started to do a robot arms and looked at her with the side of my face as she interrupted me.

    "Damn it Kay, did you have to nearly give me a heart attack!" Still pissed about the dramatic rescue.

    We started walking away from the square.

    "For a spook, you¡¯re not that hard to spook. And you¡¯re still sure I¡¯m an android, huh? Interesting."

    She huffed, eyes narrowing. ¡°Damn it, Kay, are you or aren¡¯t you already?¡±

    ¡°Dunno.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Are you a spy or not?¡±

    "Not any more, now I''m a refugee"

    "You''ll bounce back, love."

    "What? How does that make any sense"

    "Doesn''t. Most time the world is senseless, yet we try to make sense of it anyway. We... bounce back."

    Her jaw clenched. Then she sighed, shaking her head. ¡°Okay, Gadget¡­¡± She trailed off, then blinked. ¡°Used that already.¡±

    I nodded solemnly. ¡°You did.¡±

    She scowled. ¡°Damn it¡­ that was a good one too.¡±

    I patted her shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ll bounce back.¡±

    She swatted my hand away. ¡°Shut up. And where the hell are we going? The broker¡¯s the other way.¡±

    I didn¡¯t stop walking. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s too hot around here, so we made a change of plans.¡±

    She stopped as I continued to walk and narrowed her eyes.

    ¡°We?¡± Her reaction was exactly what I expected. That little twitch, the way her stance shifted, weight shifting ever so slightly.

    The realization creeping in, piece by piece. I wasn¡¯t just working off my own instincts.

    ¡°Yea, ¡®we¡¯. C¡¯mon, we got a date to get to, but you and I should pick up some desserts first.¡±

    I heard her footfalls quicken behind me after a slight delay, her hesitation stretching just long enough to make a point. Didn¡¯t matter¡ªI was already watching her via WiFi, mapping her movements as she caught up.

    ¡°Fine. Where. Are. We. Going. Then?¡± she grit out between her teeth.

    ¡°I told you. Pastries. You look like you could use the sugar. Besides, it¡¯s on the way. C¡¯mon.¡±

    I led the way through the emptying streets, the adrenaline wearing off between us like an old coat being shrugged off. By the time we reached Pasticceria Tonolo, the air had taken on that quiet lull of early morning Venice¡ªmuted chatter from caf¨¦ tables, the faint hum of delivery boats gliding through canals, and the unmistakable warmth of fresh pastries seeping into the cool dawn air.

    The bakery¡¯s soft golden light spilled onto the worn cobblestone, pooling around the entrance. Inside, the scent of freshly baked rice cakes, buttery croissants, and espresso wrapped around us like a weighted blanket.

    A few early risers had staked out spots along the small wooden tables, quietly savoring their coffee and pastries, but for the most part, it was empty. The display case gleamed with neat rows of pastries¡ªfrittelle, cannoli, maritozzi stuffed with cream, and tonnes of rice cakes, glistening just enough to be sinful.

    I had no real taste buds, or at least I didn¡¯t used to. This body was only five days old, and if my first sip of espresso was anything to go by, I had some new experiences to look forward to.

    ¡°These just melt in your mouth,¡± I said, studying the rice cakes.

    Mai, suddenly interested, pointed out a few selections herself, ordering a mix of frittelle al riso, zaleti, and crostata di frutta.

    The bags stacked up fast.

    Mai, finally noticing how much we were ordering, furrowed her brows. ¡°Who the hell are all these for, Kay!?¡± Her voice dipped into something dangerously close to a whiny teenager running on fumes.

    I glanced at the grumpy wreck next to me and smirked. ¡°You¡¯re acting weird, Mai. Even for you.¡±

    ¡°Me!? I¡¯m acting weird!?¡± She harrumphed, folded her arms, and did a full-body pout that would¡¯ve made a three-year-old proud.

    ¡°You need a nap.¡±

    ¡°You need a new personality.¡±

    I smirked. ¡°That can be arranged. But still, you¡¯d miss me too much.¡±

    She rolled her eyes and grabbed a rice cake, biting into it aggressively¡ªlike it had personally offended her. ¡°Delusional.¡±

    I just handed the cashier the bills, grabbing the bags. ¡°And yet, here we are.¡±

    She didn¡¯t have a comeback for that one.

    Then my burner phone line buzzed.

    Vinny.

    I sighed, already bracing myself. I picked up, pushing ahead before he could get a word in.

    ¡°Hey, good morning, Champ. Listen, I might not make it in today. Had some unexpected visitors earlier, one thing led to another¡ªy¡¯know how it is. But hey, the audit¡ª¡±

    ¡°Kay.¡±

    Damn. He cut me off. Rude.

    ¡°Where are you? Are you okay? My contact at the hotel said you left in a hurry. What¡¯s happening? What friends!?¡±

    I exhaled slowly, rubbing my temple. Vinny sounded¡­ honest. Actually worried.

    I knew that because I ran his voice through an analyzer. Trust, but verify.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Vin. Hey¡ªdid you just say you had someone tracking me? I¡¯m appalled. I thought we were friends.¡±

    ¡°Yes! Of course I have someone keeping track of you! You¡¯re my responsibility, Kay. If you¡¯re in trouble, I¡¯m in trouble!¡±

    Ah. There was the Vinny I knew.

    ¡°Look, Vin. I need you to listen carefully. I think someone¡¯s trying to grab me¡ªnot for me, for leverage against the Island. This goes high. Maybe all the way up. Maybe higher. You understand?¡±

    Silence. Then:

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°No. No, Kay. The Chief? No, he¡¯s a good guy. I know him for years. He warned you about the interest, right? That¡¯s a good guy, Kay. You can trust him.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m trying to figure out, Vin.¡±

    His breathing shifted. He was thinking. Good. Let him.

    ¡°Where are you? I¡¯ll pick you up. Just tell me where.¡±

    I smiled.

    ¡°Appreciate the offer, Vin. But I¡¯m going dark. I need to get back to the Island. The last thing Italy wants is a pissed-off Tolanto. We don¡¯t handle threats¡­ subtly. Capisce?¡±

    Another pause. Then a breath, lower this time.

    ¡°Yeah. I hear you. I need to talk to the Chief.¡±

    There it was. That doubt. Not outright betrayal, not yet¡ªbut he was shaken.

    ¡°For now, listen¡ªgo to a hotel in the lower districts. Pay cash. No ID. Pay extra, and they won¡¯t ask questions. Stay put until we set something up. Just hide, Kay. Can you do that?¡±

    I let my voice drop into something heavy, like I was barely holding it together.

    ¡°Yeah, Vinny. I can do that.¡±

    I hung up before he could say anything else.

    Let him run in circles for a while.

    "Why am I carrying all this while you gossip with your boyfriend?"

    "Because he''s cuter. Also, we''re here" I said pointing across the street to a familiar tailor shop called "Tailor the World". Of course they''re international.

    <hr>

    A bell rang out as we entered the front door of the shop. It looked exactly like the one on the Island with the exception of no a ringer to enter. Apparently anyone could just walk in here.

    The long mahogany tables with folded shirts on the right were there, as well as 3 mannequins with different suits stood in the same place on the right side of the store. These suits targeted toward the local Italian trend currently going on. Arranged bolts of fabric were stacked in meticulous rows in open fronted cabinets along the back walls with the same style brass fixtures jutting out of pull out cubbies behind the register counter in the back.

    A faint mix of wool, cedarwood, and just a trace of old-world cologne hung in the air¡ªand identical to the island store. It was uncanny.

    Even the lighting was the same somehow, since I was pretty sure that the Island¡¯s store faced north while this one was faced west and both had the identical large open windows that let it light from he outside world.

    Being so early in the morning the store stood empty except for the two people near the register.

    On the left stood a tall gentlemen he had had the pleasure of meeting before. Hugh Mellon, son to Sir Mellon, stood in the flesh in a very proper, very expensive three piece suit and, apparently a monocle, cause why not.

    Of course I think the monocle was more then met the eye, a HUD at the least and a laser maybe? The way things have been in "aha" mode lately why not.

    Next to the tall man stood a very petite, yet gorgeous Thai queen staring at me with a smirk that screamed surprise.

    "Surprise" TAI said in my head.

    ¡°Welcome,¡± Hugh said smoothly. ¡°Something bespoke today? Or are you here for the other service?¡±

    I grabbed one of the many bags of pastries from Mai''s hands and said "Breakfast delivery. Signature required."

    Hugh took the bag of pastries from me without even glancing inside, handling it as if I¡¯d just handed him a classified dossier instead of breakfast.

    ¡°We appreciate the discretion, even in pastry deliveries,¡± he said smoothly, setting it on the counter like it needed to be processed by some invisible bureaucracy.

    Mai, still carrying the rest of the bags, scowled. ¡°Next time, Kay is the carrier.¡±

    Hugh arched a brow, amused. ¡°That can be arranged¡±

    Mai blinked. Then, realizing how that sounded, rolled her eyes and muttered, ¡°You know what? Forget it.¡±

    I turned my attention to the real anomaly in the room.

    TAI. Not a projection. Not a voice in my head. Physically here. Standing beside Hugh like she belonged in this world outside the Island.

    She wasn¡¯t in a suit like the men, but a simple, immaculate silk dress¡ªa perfect balance between business and presence. A quiet statement. One that said she could blend in anywhere if she wanted to.

    I tilted my head slightly, studying her the way I knew she was studying me.

    ¡°Should¡¯ve known you¡¯d be here,¡± I said, eyeing her carefully. ¡°Production or temp?¡±

    TAI¡¯s smirk didn¡¯t falter. ¡°Temp. The other is offline. Even our tech can¡¯t manage two at once and stay stable.¡± Interesting but not surprising. Even with all our advancements, the human mind¡ªor at least the thing imitating one¡ªwasn¡¯t built for real-time duplication.

    I crossed my arms, leaning in just enough to invade her space. ¡°You saying it¡¯d break you?¡±

    TAI¡¯s gaze flicked over me, assessing. She didn¡¯t step back. ¡°I¡¯m saying, I prefer not to.¡±

    I let the moment linger, watching the way her lips just barely twitched¡ªwas that amusement? Or was she testing me?

    Suddenly with a smirk on her face she reached out¡ªlight, deliberate¡ªand traced a single fingertip over the back of my hand.

    I exhaled, shaking my head. ¡°Fair enough.¡±

    She won this one. But the next round? We¡¯d see.

    Beside me, Mai stayed silent, her body language shifting¡ªnot just tired anymore, but something more calculated.

    Taking stock of the situation. Measuring the exits. Figuring out if she should bolt.

    Smart.

    She should have bolted. But she didn¡¯t. Maybe she was too tired. Maybe she was just curious. Either way, she was here now. Sticking around, for better or worse.

    Hugh, clearly entertained, clasped his hands together and gestured toward the back of the store.

    ¡°Perhaps we should continue this discussion somewhere less¡­ public.¡±

    Hugh led us through the hidden passage like he¡¯d been running this place for years¡ªno hesitation, no second-guessing. Just another day at the office for him.

    We stepped through the passage and emerged onto the upper balcony of the bookstore next door, and just like that, they weren¡¯t in a tailor shop anymore. We were in a soundproofed intelligence hub disguised as a quiet literary retreat.

    I took it in. The subtle hum of the anti-noise field, the soft glow of old-world hanging lights, the hidden tech seamlessly integrated into the warm, dark wood. Comfortable, but calculated. A place where secrets could be shared over coffee and pastries like a casual Sunday brunch.

    Hugh gestured to a large wooden table at the center of the balcony, where a coffee container¡ªone of those industrial-sized ¡°fuel the whole precinct¡± dispensers¡ªsat alongside stacks of cups. A generous setup, one at that.

    Mai and I set the pastries down, and Hugh was already pouring himself a cup, smirking like a man who knew far more than he let on.

    I sat, exhaled, and finally exclaimed, pointing a finger in the air with an over-exaggerated performance, ¡°Some things first¡­¡±

    The pause stretched, thick enough to cut. No one moved. No one dared.

    I grabbed a pastry, took a massive bite¡ªand my eyes widened as the flavor hit.

    ¡°Are these always this good?¡± I blinked, muffling through my mouthful, ¡°Oh my God, it¡¯s like my mouth just exploded with taste.¡±

    Hugh, amused, took a slow sip of his coffee. ¡°No. These are just extremely good.¡±

    I chewed, nodded in serious acceptance, swallowed.

    ¡°Okay, that wasn¡¯t it.¡± I reset my posture, rolling my shoulders before starting over. ¡°What the hell is all this?¡± I gestured vaguely around us¡ªat the hidden tech, at the setup, at the sheer absurdity of a covert meeting space hidden in a bookstore balcony above a tailor shop in Venice.

    Upset? Nah. Just¡­ re-evaluating everything I thought I knew.

    I was supposed to be on a solo mission, chasing after a known spook, with zero support because I assumed the Island simply didn¡¯t do espionage.

    But apparently, I was dead wrong.

    Some answers were in order.

    TAI, perfectly composed, crossed her legs, her expression unreadable¡ªexcept for the slight amusement dancing at the edges.

    Hugh just smiled, pouring another cup. ¡°Well, Kay¡­ where do I begin?¡±

    Hugh took his time answering. No rush, no urgency. He simply lifted his coffee, took a long sip, and let the weight of the moment settle.

    I drummed my fingers on the table, waiting.

    Finally, he set the cup down with a soft clink and gave me a look.

    ¡°You ask what this is, Kay? This is the reason the Island still stands.¡±

    His tone wasn¡¯t defensive. It wasn¡¯t smug. It was simply matter-of-fact, like this was the kind of thing that should have been obvious.

    ¡°You think we could be independent without espionage? Every major power in the world wants something from us. Our freedom, our people, our tech. Anything that can be taken, they try.¡±

    He gestured vaguely to the space around us¡ªthe hidden balcony, the secured meeting space, the tailor shop acting as a front.

    ¡°And we are here to make sure they fail.¡±

    He let that settle. Like that should answer everything.

    And sure. On the surface? It did.

    But that wasn¡¯t the question I was actually asking.

    I leaned back, exhaling slow.

    ¡°Yeah, okay. Makes sense. You¡¯re the shadow keeping the wolves at bay. Good for you.¡±

    I tapped my fingers against the table¡ªonce, twice. Then I raised my gaze and cut straight to the point.

    ¡°So why wasn¡¯t I in the loop?¡±

    That got me a reaction.

    Hugh didn¡¯t blink, but I caught the fractional shift in his shoulders, the way his grip on the coffee cup adjusted ever so slightly.

    ¡°I spent the last however many hours running around like a solo act when apparently, the whole damn time, there was a full intelligence op running parallel.¡±

    My tone wasn¡¯t angry, not exactly. But there was a bite there.

    I wasn¡¯t actually sure if I would¡¯ve done anything differently. But maybe I would have considered it.

    Silence.

    And then, finally, TAI spoke.

    ¡°Because it wasn¡¯t a spy mission, Kay.¡±

    I blinked. ¡°Come again?¡±

    She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs, her expression composed but not without a trace of amusement.

    ¡°You were sent for a -- security investigation.¡± Stressing the latter part.

    She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

    ¡°Security and intelligence don¡¯t share notes Kay. Not  unless necessary.¡±

    A slow, deliberate pause.

    ¡°It evolved too fast. No one expected it to escalate from a security breach into an intelligence crisis overnight.¡±

    She tilted her head slightly, watching me carefully.

    ¡°Your job was to investigate. Find out if there was a problem. And hand it off to Hugh.¡±

    A beat.

    "You have diplomatic immunity. No one should have touched you. We played by the rules Kay, but someone is making up their own now."

    ¡°So now?¡± A small, almost imperceptible smirk played at her lips.

    ¡°Now you¡¯re fully involved. Congratulations on your promotion Kay.¡±

    I sat there, absorbing that.

    Because suddenly, I saw it? Things started clicking into place.

    The way information had been slipping to me at just the right times. The way TAI ¡°happened¡± to be involved in key moments. The way she always seemed to know just enough, even when she pretended to be as in the dark as I was.

    I exhaled through my nose, narrowing my eyes.

    ¡°You¡­¡± I paused, trying to piece it together. ¡°You were handling me the whole time, weren¡¯t you?¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer right away.

    And that was answer enough.

    Then¡ªa ghost of a smirk.

    ¡°What do you think?¡±

    Ah.

    So that¡¯s how it was.

    I leaned back, shaking my head. I was never running solo.

    Of course she was always there¡ªcomms open, watching, nudging.

    A check-in. A failsafe. A whisper in the back of my mind.

    But this?

    This was different.

    It wasn¡¯t just a line of communication anymore.

    It wasn¡¯t just someone keeping an ear out, ready to jump in if things went south.

    It was presence.

    Before, it was like having a friend on the other end of a call¡ªsomeone to bullshit with, toss ideas at, someone I could choose to trust.

    Now it was an officer over my shoulder. Someone I had to trust.

    The same voice. The same words. But the weight behind them?

    It lands different now. Entirely different. Before, she had my back. Now, she was on my six. It shouldn¡¯t have mattered. Maybe it didn¡¯t. But I felt it.

    And here I thought a dinner date came before commitment. Maybe some lube to be polite. Wait, she did peg me for dinner already. Does order really matter?

    She sipped her coffee, already knowing I¡¯d figure it out. Just waiting.

    In the end, it didn¡¯t change what I had to do. There were six missing citizens of Tolunto, and we had to find them.

    ¡°Alright, six missing citizens. Guess we better get moving.¡± The air was heavy, though, and I knew that wasn¡¯t the way to start.

    I exhaled. ¡°¡­But do I get a numeric codename? All the cool guys have numeric codenames.¡±

    Hugh gave me a long, unimpressed look.

    TAI didn¡¯t even blink. ¡°Yeah. We¡¯ll call you ''Pi minus 4''.¡±

    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°PIMP. I like it.¡±

    TAI sighed into her coffee. ¡°Oh god.¡±

    Mai, still chewing on a pastry, muttered, ¡°Jesus Christ.¡±

 Ch.10 - A Name Worth Keeping

    They sat in the chair eating their pasties and each reflecting on the conversation and their own takes from it. The hum in the air was a soothing balm to a pretty hectic morning for all of them.

    Kay stared at TAI, wondering who was this woman that he was already deeply involved with. Intimately involved with?

    Was it intimate yet?

    Even for this male android, women¡ªwhether organic or not¡ªremained an unsolvable mystery. Quantum encryption? Nothing compared to girl math and their ability to always make us feel like we¡¯re at fault.

    "So, TAI, food." I pointed to the dish of pastries, "date." Raising my hands to encompass all of us, "and we danced back in the hotel in a way. Are we square?"

    "I don''t consider pastries and a fire fight a date Kay." she said with a straight face and business first way as she crossed her arms.

    "I don''t know, if it''s a first date to get to know ya, I''d say pastries and a coffee is just fine." Mai butted in eating a danish now and holding her coffee to her mouth hiding a smirk of her own.

    "There ya go" I said "Validated."

    TAI got up from her chair, which was next to Mai''s instantly looking down on the petite former spy.

    "Are you trying to move in on my man?" She asked, eyes squinted and chest out.

    Mai, mid-bite, raised an eyebrow. She chewed, swallowed, took a slow sip of coffee¡ªdragging it out just enough to be obnoxious.

    ¡°Bold of you to assume he¡¯s your man,¡± she finally said.

    TAI crossed her arms. ¡°Bold of you to assume you could pull him.¡±

    Mai huffed. ¡°I seem to have a vacancy,¡± she said, trying to make it playful but failing just enough to show the cracks.

    TAI sat back down one foot over the other with a classic non-detached look upon her and looked Mai up and down while saying.

    "Keep it up, and that chair will have a vacancy too."

    TAI miscalculated. Humor wasn¡¯t her thing, and she¡¯d plucked a string still raw. She knew it¡ªbut she didn¡¯t know how to fix it. So, she doubled down.

    "It''s good to be wanted." I said to Hugh.

    ¡°Or, you could see it as standing between two firing squads. Residual casualties are inevitable, Kay.¡± Hugh said, finishing the last of his coffee.

    He exhaled, set the cup down, and glanced at the three of us before rolling his shoulders. ¡°Children, now that we¡¯ve got that out of our systems¡ªhehe, systems¡­¡± He sighed at his own joke. ¡°Let¡¯s get to business, shall we?¡±

    He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. ¡°Here¡¯s what we know. Our victim¡ªvictim zero¡ªwas a prototype model with a neural chip two generations behind. Dr. Vance determined the body was printed using a ghost printer¡ªno serial number, no tracking, no records. Technically impossible¡­ which seems to be happening a lot in this case.¡±

    He tapped a finger against the table, rhythmically, like he was running through a mental checklist. ¡°No known associates. No one seen with her in the last year prior to the incident. Every surveillance feed she appeared on? Blurred or actively modified by the victim herself. That flaw in our surveillance has been patched, by the way.¡±

    Hugh sighed, shaking his head. ¡°What we do have is movement data. She went places¡ªalone, always alone. We¡¯re canvassing those locations now, seeing if we can dig up any overlooked details. So far, just errand runs. Including the warehouse.¡±

    He shifted slightly, eyes locking onto me. ¡°Then there¡¯s Mateo Falieri. We know he personally purchased both lingerie and custom suits for the victim¡ªfrom my shop, no less.¡± He lifted a brow, as if the audacity personally offended him. ¡°At present, Falieri is our primary suspect in the smuggling side of this operation. And if we¡¯re lucky, he¡¯ll lead us to the real players¡ªthe ones creating these new citizens.¡±

    Hugh sat back, steepling his fingers. ¡°Did I leave anything out?¡±

    Hugh had just finished laying out the facts when Mai, still chewing the last of her pastry, waved a hand. ¡°Mateo¡¯s been here for a few weeks.¡± She brushed some crumbs from her lap. ¡°I got a lead on him through my broker.¡±

    I lifted a brow. ¡°Your broker?The one you gave me?¡±

    She nodded. ¡°Yeah. The bookstore.¡±

    I frowned. ¡°You¡¯re telling me you got an intel lead from the broker and you didn''t tell me? Or is it on the chip?"

    ¡°Not everything is on the chip. Gotta keep some collateral after all?¡± She smirked. ¡°Anyway every nation has a broker. They all tend to operate out of bookstores. It¡¯s a kind of¡­ nod to the trade. If you know, you know. But like I said, not everything gets put into their reports. Thats why you go to the broker themselves for info.¡±

    Hugh, nodding his head, chuckled at that. ¡°I do appreciate the old-world charm. The in person wink-wink chess game that it offers¡± He leaned back, tapping a finger against his cup. ¡°Still, your little bookstore friend is a small fish. My people can handle it.¡±

    Mai shot him a sharp look. ¡°You think so? Because my broker¡ªwho, by the way, is the broker for Japan¡ªsaid something you might want to hear.¡±

    That got Hugh¡¯s attention. His amusement dimmed, his posture shifting just enough to show he was listening.

    She continued. ¡°There¡¯s been talk of androids being smuggled in and auctioned off to the highest bidder¡ªother nations, private collectors, even some criminal groups. Mateo Falieri? He¡¯s not just moving them. He¡¯s going rogue. Pocketing cash on the side, bypassing his own people for a bigger payday.¡±

    I let out a low whistle. ¡°And the Italians would love that, I¡¯m sure.¡±

    Hugh exhaled, shaking his head. ¡°They¡¯d kill him for it.¡±

    Mai nodded. ¡°Which means we¡¯re on a clock. If his own people get to him first, we lose our lead.¡±

    Hugh drummed his fingers on the table, considering. Then he sighed. ¡°Alright, you win. We pay your broker a visit. But if this turns out to be some third-rate whisper trail¡ª¡±

    "That won''t be necessary. AG just sent us a lead. He found his pent house. " Mai said. "Kay can use a field op partner. So let¡¯s rest up a bit, then we head out after sundown", she said nodding her head to Mai

    I raised an eyebrow. "Convenient timing."

    She smirked. "He¡¯s a king, Kay. Kings don¡¯t waste time with small fish. They wait until the pond¡¯s been properly stirred for them and the entree fully cooked and served."

    I nodded once. Fair enough.

    "Na-ah. What''s in it for me? As far as I''m concerned I''m retired." Mai said.

    "Besides a safe house away from those trying to kill you?" TAI said with a straight face face.

    "Yea. Besides that." Mai said with yet another muffin in her mouth.

    ¡°So, little Ms. Muffin, what¡¯s it gonna take to pull you out of retirement?¡± I asked, watching as she stuffed yet another pastry into her face. I narrowed my eyes, giving her a once-over. ¡°Also, seriously¡ªhow many calories do you eat in a day?¡±

    I was also slightly annoyed¡ªannoyed at being paired with an organic and having to sit around for half a day, waiting to get shot at.

    She ignored me. Again. "Citizenship. Tulanto''s the place to be and I need a place to be."

    "That can be arranged. Understand you may need to take a test, and you will definitely need a sponsor, and take a binding Oath of Loyalty to Tulanto." TAI said al business.

    "Also" I budded in,"their is bad news for you Mai. If you want this, it¡¯s gonna be hard. There will be tests. And not just math tests." I said sipping on my cup of Joe.

    Mai scoffed at me, arms crossed. ¡°Wow. A math joke. I really walked right into that one, huh Kay?¡±

    I grinned and responded "Textbook example, doll"

    Mai glared at me a moment and looked at TAI "I take it back. I don¡¯t need citizenship. Just send me to Japan.¡±

    "So I''ll put you as ''undecided'' then? TAI replied straight as a lace.

    "Uggh, fine."

    "Good. Let''s make it official. Raise your right hand, Hugh and Kay are official witnesses, I assume Kay is your sponsor" TAI said.

    I nodded. "She grows on you."

    "Wait, right now?" Mai said, hesitation palpable. Not every day you trade citizenship like baseball cards.

    "If we are anything in Tulanto we are efficient. Do you, Mai Kobayashi¡ªnow known as Yasoba Mai¡ªswear loyalty to Tulanto, uphold its values, and commit to the protection of its people and sovereignty¡ª¡±

    "And promise not to be an asshole? We don¡¯t like those.¡± I cut in

    Mai narrowed her eyes. ¡°Is that actually part of the oath, TAI?¡±

    A beat of silence.

    TAI shrugged and responded. ¡°AG says he likes it. So yes."

    "Fine. I''m tired. Cut all this BS and wrap it up. I swear."

    ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t forget¡ªwe¡¯ll need your bone marrow sample. Full conversion process, y¡¯know. You¡¯ll make a fine android.¡±

    Mai choked on her pastry. ¡°WHAT?!¡±

    "You didn''t hear the rest of the Oath Mai." I said in full deadpan glory.

    "Stop." TAI said. Authority of rank reigning out.

    "No fun" I said with a bit of a frown.

    <hr>

    Mai finally crashed for a few hours, getting the rest she desperately needed after the past 24 hours of near-death experiences, betrayal, and political maneuvering.

    Meanwhile, I ran one final check on Falieri¡¯s penthouse, pulling up surveillance angles, traffic patterns, and security details. Hugh¡¯s people provided us with a black van to keep things discreet.

    By the time Mai was awake, dressed in dark clothes fit for fieldwork, I was already double-checking the comms line with TAI.

    We pulled up a block away from Falieri¡¯s five-story apartment complex. He owned the top two floors, left-hand side, facing a canal. Through the large windows, I could make out white walls, a minimalistic aesthetic, and sleek furniture. The automatic shades were drawn in most rooms, but the faint glow of a screen flickered through the slats.

    On loan from Hugh''s team was Rodrigo and Manuel. The former a witty, small guy with razor sharp reflexes as our driver and Manuel who was on the quiet side and was our resident sniper.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    "I was told to specifically not engage in banter with you by the boss" Rodrigo had said as we were preparing. A smile plastered his face as he was packing his gear.

    "Then I suggest you start now." I said in full work mode.

    He hadn''t said a word all night since.

    "Alright," I murmured, looking toward the team as she checked the small sidearm I had provided her. "I go quiet. In and out before anyone notices. Rodrigo stay with the van and come in for our evac. You two find a good observation point and be my overwatch. God willing, I''ll be in and out in about 3 minutes"

    "Do robots believe in God?" Rodrigo said.

    I looked at him with a glare. Only one smart ass was allowed on this team, and now wasn''t the time.

    She exhaled, adjusting her gloves. "You make it sound so simple."

    "It is."

    I stepped out of the van, the cold night air pressing in around us. The game was officially on.

    I was prepared for resistance.

    Everything about Falieri¡¯s setup screamed paranoia. The penthouse was walled off like a vault, signal-dampening materials woven into every surface. No comms, no heat signatures, no standard surveillance.

    A place like that? It meant trouble.

    I expected motion sensors, patrol routes, or at the very least, automated security.

    Instead? Nothing.

    Just a quiet balcony, a fire escape bolted to the side of the building like an afterthought, and a locked maintenance access door.

    Finally¡ªsomething good about bureaucratic building requirements. The Italians might love their paperwork, but at least fire codes made break-ins easier.

    I reached the side access panel, fingers ghosting over the embedded security lock. The system was sophisticated¡ªcomplex for anyone without the right tools.

    Luckily, I was the right tool.

    I slipped my thumb reader from my pocket and peeled back the panel¡¯s outer casing. Beneath it, a neatly arranged mess of wires.

    Standard bypass techniques wouldn¡¯t work here. Good. I wasn''t standard either anymore.

    I pressed my thumb reader to the exposed wiring and let it sync, the haptic pulse confirming a connection.

    A moment later, the lock¡¯s internal interface appeared in my vision¡ªa cascading web of security scripts and fail-safes.

    I scrolled through them with a flick of my thumb.

    I stepped inside, boots soft against the metal staircase leading up.

    No alarms. No guards. Just the soft hum of an empty penthouse waiting for me, which could be worse.

    I stepped inside, my footfalls soft against the hardwood. The penthouse was immaculate¡ªalmost.

    My passive scans bounced strangely. Walls dampened everything¡ªsound, IR, waveforms. Heavy material. Purpose-built.

    ¡°Guy really liked his privacy,¡± I muttered over comms.

    ¡°Or had a reason to need it,¡± TAI replied.

    My gaze swept the living room. No signs of struggle, everything placed with intention. A large area rug stretched across the space, perfectly centered beneath the furniture.

    And then, a detail that shouldn¡¯t exist. Tiny dots. Barely visible against the wood. Not a spill. Not a splatter. Precise. Controlled.

    A trail.

    I crouched, adjusting my focus. Each drop was the size of a pinhead.

    A pattern. Like someone had dipped the tips of their toes in blood and moved across the room with perfect balance.

    Not a normal walk. A dancer¡¯s precision.

    I traced the pattern, following the steps across the floor¡ªdeliberate, deliberate, deliberate¡ªleading straight to the bathroom.

    There, I saw one of the scariest things ever: the toothpaste was uncovered, the shaving cream canister out, ready for use, and the toilet seat up.

    In other words, a bachelor¡¯s bathroom.

    I exhaled through my nose. Messy. Careless. Lived-in.

    The rest of the penthouse had been perfect, curated. But this? This was real.

    And ''real'' meant someone had been here. Recently.

    I turned my gaze to the bathtub. Immaculate. Spotless. At first glance, it looked like no one had touched it in weeks.

    But then I saw it¡ªa faint ring around the top edge.

    Someone had cleaned, but only their obvious mess. The kind of cleaning job meant to erase something specific¡ªnot regular upkeep.

    The waterline was still there, a ghost of whatever had been scrubbed away.

    Quick job. Rushed. Done just well enough to fool a baseline human, not someone without my eyes.

    I ran a finger along the edge, feeling the slight difference in texture.

    Not just cleaned¡ªsanded.

    A lot of pressure went into this. Too much.

    Whoever did this wasn¡¯t just trying to scrub something away¡ªthey were erasing evidence.

    And they knew enough to do it properly. Almost.

    I walked out the bathroom back into the living room, no grand room, staring at the dots. Obvious lead to underneath the rug. But somethign was bothering me. Something was off.

    I let my eyes sweep the space again, taking in the silence.

    "I think I''ll take a look around, I feel like someone or something is here TAI." I said under my breath, casual. Just an observation.

    "Negative Kay, stay on mission, check that rug."

    Her tone was sharp. Too sharp.

    The kind she reserved for emergencies.

    The kind she reserved for telling the kids, ''GYMFAHBIBYA''. Good times.

    But weird. Why was she pressing this hard?

    Guess the stress was getting to her.

    ¡°Roger, Roger,¡± I muttered, moving toward the carpet.

    The coffee table was massive, on top of said carpet, dominated the center of the room like it was trying to make a statement.

    A statement like ¡°Don¡¯t look under me please.¡±

    I crouched and grabbed the edge, shifting my weight as I pushed it aside. It was heavy, solid wood¡ªthree-people-to-move heavy at least. And expensive wood at that. Not impractical, but not exactly lived-in either. The kind of thing a man with too much money and no personality buys to impress people he never planned to have over.

    It took some effort, but I slid it across the floor, expecting the familiar resistance of wood on wood.

    Instead, it moved too smoothly.

    I looked down. No drag marks. No scuffs. The floor beneath was pristine.

    Even after I moved it, it was like it had never been touched.

    I ran my fingers over the surface, frowning. Some kind of protective layer?

    I didn¡¯t know. Didn¡¯t need to. Just another detail that didn¡¯t sit right about this place.

    The rug underneath was thick, high-quality. I ran my fingers along the edge and peeled it back.

    Nothing.

    Just wood.

    I exhaled through my nose. That wasn¡¯t right.

    The blood trail had cut past the rug¡¯s edge and tapered off abruptly. I crouched lower to where it stopped, pressing my palm against the smooth wooden floor.

    At first glance, it was seamless. But the planks were off.

    Not by much. Less than a millimeter.

    A hairline divide that wasn¡¯t visible unless you were looking for it and I was.

    I ran my fingers across it. No handle. No paneling. Completely smooth.

    That meant the trigger was somewhere else.

    I stood and let my eyes drift across the room¡¯s layout. The coffee table was surrounded by lounger chairs¡ªplush, deep-seated, the kind you sank into and never wanted to leave.

    Damn. I really needed to upgrade my setup at home.

    Between them, small end tables, positioned for convenience.

    And then I saw it.

    One of them¡ªoff the rug, against the wall¡ªhad something unusual.

    A thin, black wire ran from its base¡ªstraight into the floor.

    I walked over, crouching beside it.

    A lamp? No. No power source. No charger. No wall outlet nearby.

    This wasn¡¯t for convenience. It was for control.

    I ran my fingers along the underside of the table.

    Click.

    A hidden panel on the under plane of the table slid open, revealing a small manual switch.

    No WiFi. No Bluetooth. No external connection to the outside world. Just good old fashioned hardwired security.

    Whoever built this wasn¡¯t worried about hackers. They were worried about intruders. Intruders like me.

    I pressed the switch.

    The floor groaned softly beneath me as the hydraulics kicked in, the hidden door lifting without a sound.

    A stairwell descended into darkness.

    I stared down. Cold air drifted up, faintly metallic¡ªthe scent of machines, coolant, and something else.

    Blood.

    ¡°Close the doors behind you, Kay,¡± TAI said, her voice even.

    I frowned. ¡°Weirdly specific.¡±

    ¡°Do it.¡±

    I did.

    "Ok, but my safety word is electromagnetism"

    Intelligence TAI has weird fetishes.

    The lower level was larger than I expected. Half-lab, half-garage, and all business.

    It was divided into sections¡ªeach one serving a distinct, coldly efficient purpose.

    At the far end, a row of inspection tables. Eight slots. Four on each side.

    The first three were empty. The latter four were occupied.

    Four androids. All male. All awake.

    Their eyes tracked me. Not blank, not hostile. Just¡­ waiting.

    Controlled. Stilled. As if they had been told to wait.

    Some lay whole, untouched. Others¡­ not so much.

    One had his torso split open, components exposed like an unfinished project. His head twitched slightly, mouth parted as if he had been mid-sentence when they stopped him.

    Another was missing everything below the waist, resting on the table as if someone had meant to come back and finish the job¡ªbut never did. His fingers tensed, then relaxed, then tensed again. A loop. A half-executed process stuck in limbo.

    At the far end, one was missing his entire face plate. Cranial AI socket exposed. His optics were still powered, tracking movement, but there was no expression left to show.

    A few of them had parts removed with careful precision. Others had sections missing like they had been ripped apart in a hurry.

    This wasn¡¯t a repair shop.

    This was a chop shop.

    A factory for taking things apart and deciding which pieces were still useful.

    I exhaled slowly. They were awake through all of it.

    They knew.

    And they were still waiting.

    And then, there was the fifth section.

    A massacre.

    Four bodies on the ground in various posses of distress.

    One with his pants off.

    Limbs missing¡ªnot by a blade, but by force. Arm-to-arm fighting. Precise. Not panicked.

    I cataloged the damage. I¡¯d seen this before. Too clean. Too exact.

    ¡°We¡¯ll send a cleanup team for the droids. And the mess. Check around for any clues to who''s their suppliers.¡± TAI said

    ¡°And authorities?¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t need to know. This is our mess, Kay.¡±

    I scanned the bodies. Mateo Falieri.

    Dead before he could give them anything.

    That meant someone else had the real answers.

    I turned my attention to the first android on the table. Stripped down, half-dismantled.

    I found the AI unit behind him on the table. A pre-current gen prototype. Bagged. Sealed. Stored like an afterthought.

    A sticky note was attached:

    ¡°Tell KM she needs to get more current versions. Already outdated.¡±

    My jaw tightened. KM.

    ¡°TAI. You seeing this?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m seeing everything, Kay. And¡ª¡±

    ¡°Kay. Get the hell out of there.¡±

    I snapped my head up.

    ¡°Company?¡±

    ¡°Worse. Dead man¡¯s switch. I¡¯m trying to interrupt it, but it¡¯s not good, Kay. Get out now!¡±

    The room¡¯s lights shifted. A slow red pulse.

    The only question was¡ªhow long did I have?

    I turned, scanning for the fastest way out. No visible exits. No vents, no tunnels. This place wasn¡¯t built to let people out¡ªit was built to keep them in.

    But I knew the layout of the building. This lab was under the penthouse, but it wasn¡¯t a standalone space.

    The fire escape.

    Falieri¡¯s penthouse had one, and that meant the same escape column should be running down through this floor too. They had walled it off, but the structure would still be there.

    I mapped my position in my head, lining up the space against the original building plans.

    There.

    I turned and sprinted toward the far wall, the one running parallel to the canal-facing side of the building. If my calculations were right, the fire escape stairwell was on the other side.

    I slammed my palm against the surface and ran my fingers along the edges. No seams, no doors. They had sealed it tight.

    That didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t open it myself.

    I stepped back, squared up, and drove my fist straight into the wall.

    A dull, metallic crunch. Reinforced, but not reinforced enough.

    A second hit. The surface cracked.

    A third¡ªthe wall caved inward, exposing the old fire escape stairwell behind it.

    There. The stairwell was still intact. Rust-covered, dust-filled, but it would get me out.

    I bolted down the stairs, taking three steps at a time. The red pulse of the alarm flashed against the walls as I left, casting everything in jagged, shifting shadows.

    ¡°Kay, MOVE!¡± TAI¡¯s voice was sharp in my ear.

    ¡°No kidding,¡± I muttered, pushing harder.

    The stairwell was tight, reinforced metal and concrete, designed to keep people out, not let them escape.

    I could feel the vibrations in the walls. Something was happening.

    Timed detonation? Structural collapse? Gas release?

    I didn¡¯t plan on sticking around to find out.

    I hit the last landing, shoulder-checking the exit door.

    It burst open into a side alley, the cold night air slamming into me like a wall.

    The van was already there, idling, back door open.

    Mai leaned out, waving me in. ¡°Hurry up!¡±

    I dove in, Manuel sliding the door shut behind me.

    ¡°Any Company?¡± I asked, shoving myself into a seat.

    ¡°Negative.¡± Manuel barely looked out the back windows. 	¡°Quiet. Too quiet.¡±

    Rodrigo punched the gas, and the van lurched forward, tires skidding on the damp pavement before gripping.

    I glanced at the side mirror.

    No pursuit. No sirens.

    That was worse.

    A job like this should¡¯ve had half the city breathing down our necks. Instead, nothing. Like someone had decided not to look.

    TAI saw it too.

    ¡°Fire responders are on the way, should clear before they get here. ¡±

    I exhaled slowly.

    We didn¡¯t stop. Didn¡¯t wait to see who would come sniffing around the rubble.

    Venice¡¯s docks were prepped.

    A private mooring near the lagoon, secured through Hugh¡¯s contacts.

    The yacht was waiting.

    Mai was already out of the van and on board, arms crossed, watching as I walked onboard.

    ¡°Thought you were gonna get vaporized back there,¡± she said as I stepped off the boat.

    ¡°Nice to see you too, doll.¡±

    She smirked but didn¡¯t move.

    The engines were already humming, and we were ready to go.

    Rodrigo and Manuel didn¡¯t waste time. They grabbed their gear and drove off without a word.

    Within minutes, we were out of the lagoon, Venice disappearing behind us.

    The mission wasn¡¯t over. But for now, we were gonna be ghosts.

    That thought had barely cleared my head when my comm pinged.

    I glanced at it, debating whether to ignore it.

    Vinny.

    I sighed and answered. ¡°Yeah, Vinny, I¡¯m alive.¡±

    ¡°Bueno, bueno!¡± he exhaled, like he¡¯d been holding his breath. ¡°That¡¯s good news. Bad news is¡­ Kay, what the hell did you do? I got suits crawling all over the Questura talking about a data breach. A big one.¡±

    I smirked. Of course.

    ¡°You know me, Vinny. Just sightseeing.¡±

    ¡°Sightseeing?!¡± he hissed. ¡°Madonna, Kay! These people aren¡¯t tourists, they¡¯re the kind that don¡¯t blink and don¡¯t leave until they have answers!¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a you problem.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a real bastard, you know that?¡±

    ¡°So I¡¯ve been told.¡±

    He muttered something in Italian that I¡¯m pretty sure wasn¡¯t a compliment.

    ¡°Listen, you sure you¡¯re safe?¡±

    I looked around the yacht. Mai watching me from the deck, arms crossed. TAI monitoring from my feed. The dark waters stretching out ahead.

    ¡°Vinny,¡± I said, stretching back in my seat, ¡°I¡¯m off-island. I¡¯m good.¡±

    He exhaled again. ¡°Fine. But you owe me a drink next time you¡¯re in Venice, capito?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡±

    I cut the call before he could argue.

    Mai raised an eyebrow. ¡°Who was that?¡±

    I flicked my comm off. ¡°A reminder that Venice gets really antsy when you borrow their secrets.¡±

    She smirked. ¡°And here I thought we were just sightseeing.¡±

    I grinned. ¡°See? Now you get it.¡±

    The yacht cut through the waves. Tulanto was waiting.

 Ch.11 - A Long Goodbye, A Short Hello

    The Croatian dock at Seget Donji marina comes into view as the sun edges over the horizon. The yacht glides toward the well-equipped marina, surrounded by a mix of sleek modern yachts, older sailboats, and smaller dinghies bobbing gently in their berths.

    The air carries a salty tang, mingled with diesel and the faint scent of fresh fish. Seven hours and thirty-six minutes since leaving Venice, and I¡¯ve had more than enough of the open sea. Ahead, a small village beckons, its cafes promising a reprieve for my newly sharpened senses.

    Uniformed staff move along the piers with practiced efficiency, preparing the docks for another busy day. As the yacht is secured, a harbor official discreetly checks our documents. The process is seamless, a testament to the marina¡¯s expertise in handling VIP arrivals.

    Nearby, a sleek black sedan waits at the quay. The driver, in a crisp uniform, steps forward, holding the door open. Without hesitation, we step off the yacht and into the car, beginning the next leg of our journey.

    The airport is just ten minutes away, but I ask the driver to take a short detour through the village. A brief stop at a cafe feels overdue¡ªa chance to reflect. Who is KM, really? Where is he working from, and how is he pulling it off? My mind runs through the probabilities, picturing a likely scenario: a gun-to-the-head confrontation. Not ideal, but it¡¯s the kind of outcome I have to consider.

    I dial my gal up and ask her "Hey TAI, can we run cross references on all of Johnson and Vance''s team members. See where they have been going after work for last 6 month? See if any have gone missing or late to work or acting funny as per Johnson or Vance."

    "Sure thing Kay. We would have noticed missing, but I''ll ask them if anyone has been suspicious lately."

    The Croatian cafe, like many buildings in the village, is topped with a red-tiled roof that stands out against the clear morning sky. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifts into the street, mingling with the faint scent of baked goods. Open-air seating invites patrons to linger, with wide windows offering a view of the sea. The decor is simple but inviting: sturdy wooden chairs, colorful umbrellas, and a handful of potted plants on the sills.

    I settle into a chair, noting how similar it is to the one in my apartment. I sigh, realizing I might need to get new furniture. TAI giggles in my head. Test. Test. Can you hear me, TAI? Test. Silence. At least she can¡¯t read my mind. That¡¯d be all kinds of against protocol. And just plain rude. Then another quiet giggle. Rude.

    We order Turkish coffee, served in a small brass pot alongside sugar and a glass of water. The thick, dark brew packs a sharp, vibrant punch with every sip. A slice of fig cake balances the bitterness, sweet and chewy, reinvigorating my palate. I¡¯m glad that I don¡¯t have to worry about weight, though part of me wonders if that¡¯s a blessing or a curse.

    "So what next on the agenda Kay? Back to the Island then find this mysterious KM, that I get, but otherwise where do I fit in -- I''m scientist."

    "Well seems your my responsibility now, sponsor has weight in Tulanto kid, so you''ll probably be spelunking it around with me on cases until we slip you into a better role in intelligence once your rep gets higher. You''ll see that Rep is a currency of it''s own there too"

    "So you''re my boss now huh? What''s the pay like and I want 5 weeks with all benefits" she aid we a grin wolfing down honey cakes like a wasp attacking the nest.

    "Hmm looks like I hired a diva here TAI." I said to the Mai''s phone laying on the table.

    "It''s fine we out compete all others" TAI said on speaker phone to the surprise of Mai.

    "You get used to it."

    I sighed, and pushed back from the table indicating for her to follow. Five minutes later, we were on our way to the airstrip. The trip to the plane was uneventful, and before I knew it, we were 30,000 feet in the air, heading back to the Island.

    Usually on any long trip or down time I''d just go to my apartment or wherever, sit-down and go offline. A few seconds later I''d arrived or someone would call me back. To the rest of the world, I''d just zone out.

    But now, I had Mai beside me and zoning out would be rude. Besides we had work to keep us busy. As an added bonus I enjoyed keeping her guessing as about being an android or not. I think she already knew but the game was fun for both of us -- well, me at least.

    We sat at a work table in the middle of the plane and walked her through what I knew of the case, bringing her up to speed with our intel. The table itself was a giant monitor so it was easy to use. I placed files, past recordings, and key evidence onto the display as needed, letting her interact with it in real-time.

    As Mai swiped through the case details on the table, I was about to pull up the next recording when the cabin speaker buzzed.

    ¡°Kay, we have a problem.¡±

    TAI¡¯s voice cut clean through the hum of the engines, and from the clipped tone, I already knew.

    I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. ¡°Let me guess¡ªFrank?¡±

    ¡°Yes. He¡¯s missing.¡±

    Mai¡¯s head snapped up, eyes narrowing.

    I straightened in my seat. ¡°Define missing.¡±

    ¡°No confirmed location for the last five hours. Last confirmed location was the docks at Tuvalu. From there digital obstruction matches the interference seen in the Victim 0 case. Surveillance data is too large for live transmission, but I¡¯ll send it once we land.¡±

    A heavy silence settled between Mai and me.

    I sat back, staring at the table but not really looking at it. The case files, the evidence, the moving parts of this whole mess¡ªit all blurred for a second. Too fast. It was moving too fast.

    Frank wasn¡¯t just a partner; he was part of my framework. A constant. And now he was gone.

    I didn¡¯t like how that made me feel.

    Mai watched me carefully, but she didn¡¯t say anything. Smart girl.

    I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders back. ¡°Alright,¡± I said, voice flat. ¡°Send me the feed when we land. Wasn''t that obstruction issue fixed?¡±

    ¡°Understood. Yes it was fixed in Tulanto proper, Kay. Tuvalu is its own nation, officially, at least.¡±

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°I see.¡± I ran my hands over my face, muttering into them. ¡°Goddamn politics.¡±

    The comm clicked off, leaving nothing but the low hum of the plane and the flickering data on the monitor in front of me.

    I should have kept working. Should have refocused.

    Instead, I stared at the screen, feeling something I wasn¡¯t sure I was built to handle.

    Before I knew it, the captain announced our arrival.

    ¡°Approaching Tulanto airspace. Estimated landing in fifteen minutes. Security detail will be waiting on arrival.¡±

    I straightened in my seat. Back to business.

    Mai stretched beside me. ¡°Guessing there¡¯s a welcoming committee?¡±

    I sighed. ¡°Of course there is, sweetheart. Either they roll out the red carpet or their going to pull it out from under us.¡±

    The plane began its descent.

    We stepped onto the runway, met immediately by a waiting car and a security detail we really didn¡¯t need. Well, maybe Mai did. Having an organic partner was forcing me to adjust my usual MO more than I liked.

    The drive back to the house on the hill was quick, the city unfolding beneath us in the bright midday sun.

    Inside AG¡¯s suite, we were ushered further in, past the familiar sitting area, through a door leading into a proper meeting room. A longer table, larger windows overlooking the city center, and papers neatly arranged at each seat.

    Beyond the skyline, the flood walls stood like dark scars on the water. The whirlpools churned, swallowing the rising sea, their engineered force the only thing keeping the ocean from reclaiming the island. Far beyond them, the distant silhouettes of Interceptor patrols drifted through the sunlit mist¡ªconstant, vigilant.

    At the head of the table sat AG, composed as ever.

    To his right, TAI, in her permanent android body¡ªhis ever-faithful shadow.

    To his left, Sir Mellon, calm and unreadable.

    Further down, a haggard-looking Dr. Gerald Johnson, head of AI chip development, sat with his arms crossed, his expression tight. Folders, scattered papers, and assorted gear lay spread out in front of him.

    Across from him, Dr. Elliot Vance, head of android development, looked as he always did¡ªcocksure and just a little too pleased with himself. His setup mirrored Johnson¡¯s¡ªan equal spread of papers and equipment¡ªyet while Johnson looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, Vance looked like he was ready to sell it off for parts.

    Looks like I wasn¡¯t the only one getting debriefed today.

    I stepped into the room just as Vance was mid-sentence, something about neural lattice densities and modular adaptability¡ªwhatever.

    Before he could finish, AG pushed his chair back and stood up.

    ¡°Ah, our valiant hero returns.¡±

    Vance¡¯s mouth snapped shut so fast I thought he might bite his own tongue. His expression flickered¡ªannoyance, irritation¡ªbefore smoothing over into something neutral but tight.

    I let my gaze sweep across the table. Johnson looked like he hadn¡¯t slept in days. His arms were still crossed, but his fingers tapped against his sleeve, an unconscious twitch. Vance, sitting across from him, still had that puffed-up posture, even after getting cut off. TAI sat as still as ever, watching. Sir Mellon looked¡­ patient. Like he already knew how this meeting was going to play out.

    I adjusted my coat, stepping forward. ¡°Not sure if this is formal or not¡ªyour majesty. Should I bow?¡±

    Mai, still glancing at the sitting room as she followed behind me, turned, caught up to my words, and immediately dropped to one knee.

    The room stilled.

    AG smirked, settling back into his chair. ¡°Rise. Just start talking, Kay.¡±

    As Mai scrambled back to her feet, I caught him mumbling to TAI. ¡°Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.¡±

    I walked to my seat and started the debrief. Facts, findings, case trajectory. The kind of thing that could have been handled over a report, but here I was, playing the part of a PowerPoint monkey.

    I kept it short. Surveillance interference, AI smuggling, KM¡¯s involvement, Frank¡¯s disappearance. I¡¯d done enough of these to know no one was really listening to the details¡ªat least, not in the way I needed them to.

    I scanned the room as I spoke.

    Vance wasn¡¯t even pretending to care. His focus was on me¡ªor more accurately, my body. His gaze flicked over me with the sharp curiosity of a man inspecting his own handiwork.

    ¡°And how¡¯s that chassis holding up?¡± he asked, cutting into my briefing mid-sentence.

    I blinked. ¡°Well, it hasn¡¯t exploded yet, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking.¡±

    Vance grinned like he¡¯d just been handed a fresh lab sample. ¡°Fascinating. I¡¯ll need you back in for diagnostics later.¡±

    I met his gaze for a second, then looked away without a word and kept going.

    Across the table, Johnson was barely present. He sat hunched, fingers drumming against his sleeve, eyes distant. His reaction to the AI chip¡ªthe one he claimed to recognize¡ªwas still written all over him. Whatever thoughts were spiraling through his head weren¡¯t landing anytime soon.

    Sir Mellon, on the other hand, was very much engaged¡ªjust not with the case. His attention kept drifting to Mai, like he was already picturing where she¡¯d fit into his organization.

    ¡°Onto Mai, our newest citizen. You¡¯re impressive,¡± he finally said, almost as an afterthought. ¡°Perhaps we have an open role for you¡ªone with more¡­ flexibility.¡±

    Mai, to her credit, didn¡¯t react beyond a casual shrug, but I could tell she heard it and retreated somewhere else in her own head.

    Before I could say anything, AG shut it down.

    ¡°For the foreseeable future, she¡¯s under my authority,¡± he said, calm but firm. ¡°And under Kay¡¯s, as my proxy for the security of this fair nation.¡±

    Sir Mellon leaned back slightly, nodding. Message received.

    That wasn¡¯t just about Mai. That was about me, too.

    No official title. No big declaration. But had AG just given me jurisdiction over the nation''s security? No couldn''t be. Just a slip of the tongue, right? A turn of phrase. Had to be.

    I glanced at him, arching a brow. ¡°Was that a figure of speech, or should I be asking about my benefits package?¡±

    AG smirked but didn¡¯t answer.

    I sighed and moved to stand, nodding for Mai to follow. We¡¯d barely taken a step before AG held up a hand.

    ¡°Not you, Kay.¡±

    I stopped mid-step. ¡°Oh?¡±

    AG didn¡¯t elaborate, just gestured to the door.

    Mai hesitated, giving me a look, then shrugged and walked out. The doors sealed behind her with a soft hiss.

    Before I could ask what this was about, four new figures walked in. Scientists¡ªnot the admin types like Johnson and Vance, but deep-lab people. The kind with thousand-yard stares from too much time spent in the battlefields of sterile white rooms and networking events. In a word, Academics.

    One of them¡ªa woman in a slate-gray jumpsuit, expression unreadable¡ªsat across from me and tapped the table.

    ¡°Detective Kay, we¡¯d like to ask you some questions.¡±

    I exhaled. Of course they did.

    I leaned back, crossing my arms. ¡°Sure. But this body is brand new, so I know its warranty is still good¡­ unless I voided it somehow, which I¡¯m pretty sure I didn¡¯t. Maybe.¡±

    No reaction. Tough crowd.

    Oh, great. I already hated this.

    I visibly sighed, making a show of my agitation. It didn¡¯t deter them in the slightest.

    I looked at AG. He was just watching. Not stepping in. Not explaining.

    He nodded toward the scientist. Answer.

    Alright. Fine.

    The woman clasped her hands. ¡°Hypothetically speaking¡ª¡±

    Have I mentioned that I already hated this?--even more now.

    ¡°¡ªif an artificial intelligence were to begin displaying behavior outside its intended parameters, how would you define that? Would you consider it malfunction or evolution?¡±

    I blinked. ¡°You dragged me back here for hypotheticals?¡±

    No one answered.

    I leaned forward, my tone flat. ¡°That depends on the context. An AI that changes? That¡¯s just progress. But progress for whose benefit? That¡¯s the real question.¡±

    A wiry man with permanent tech-gloves and the hollow-eyed look of someone who hadn¡¯t seen daylight in a week spoke up. ¡°So you acknowledge AI can evolve?¡±

    I frowned. This was starting to sound familiar.

    ¡°We evolve all the time. Everything does. The question isn¡¯t if¡ªit¡¯s what happens after.¡±

    A long silence.

    Another scientist leaned in. ¡°What about deviation? If an AI started making choices its creators never intended, would that be¡­ progress? Or a security concern?¡±

    I exhaled through my nose, already tired of this.

    ¡°Both.¡±

    They exchanged glances. That reaction told me a lot.

    This wasn¡¯t a casual discussion. This wasn¡¯t hypothetical.

    This was about something specific.

    And they weren¡¯t telling me a damn thing.

    I stayed and played their game for another hour, answering questions that never led to a full picture. Just enough to apply to my current case, but never enough to fit perfectly.

    So what¡¯s with these questions?

    Yet another mystery for another time.

    Finally, I stood up, looking over the group.

    ¡°All this¡±¡ªI motioned toward them¡ª¡°should I be concerned?¡±

    No one answered.

    I nodded, exhaling through my nose.

    ¡°Lucky me.¡±

    AG finally spoke as I reached the door.

    ¡°Get some rest, Kay.¡±

    I didn¡¯t look back. ¡°I¡¯ll put it on my to-do list.¡±

    I walked out, already knowing this was going to come back around to me one day.

 Ch. 12 - Gone, but not forgotten

    I headed for the East Wing, nearly a mile from Dr. Vance¡¯s Android labs to Dr. Johnson¡¯s AI division. Unlike Vance, who specialized in android intelligence, Johnson oversaw all AI development. In a nation that ran on AI, that made him one of the most important people on the island¡ªhis office space reflected that.

    Dr. Vance¡¯s labs spanned half the West Wing. Dr. Johnson¡¯s department? The entire East Wing¡ªplus auxiliary buildings.

    Losing Vance would slow android development¡ªhis team could recover. Losing Johnson? AI research would have to start over. No one but a genius at his level could match his pace.

    Johnson was a national treasure¡ªhis security made that clear.

    Interceptor units stood in hallway cutouts, posed like suits of armor¡ªmore display than defense. At the end of the corridor, a mahogany door marked the entrance. Like AG¡¯s suite, it was imposing, but not excessive.

    Inside, a receptionist sat behind a wide desk, backed by frosted glass and sealed doors¡ªnothing visible beyond them.

    ¡°Afternoon. Richard Kay. I need to see Dr. Johnson,¡± I said. The young man in the suit barely looked up, fingers moving across his terminal.

    ¡°Good afternoon,¡± he said with a practiced smile. ¡°Dr. Johnson is expecting you, Administrator. One moment while I notify him.¡±

    ¡°Detective,¡± I corrected. ¡°I¡¯ll wait.¡± I dropped onto a couch.

    A few minutes passed before Dr. Johnson stepped out.

    ¡°Good timing, Kay. Let¡¯s talk chips in my office.

    We passed through the security glass. More Interceptors lined the halls¡ªstationary, decorative, but never unnoticed.

    ¡°Tight security, Doc. Surprised these chips made it out.¡±

    ¡°Me too, Kay. Me too.¡± He sank into his chair. ¡°Everyone is scanned on entry and exit. If there¡¯s a mole, they¡¯ve cracked time and space.¡±

    ¡°That possible?¡± I asked, already dreading the answer.

    ¡°Theoretically. But the power? Mind-boggling. And even our best quantum physicists¡ªthe best anywhere¡ªdon¡¯t really know how quantum physics works. Between you and me, they have arguments over breakfast about whether half their equations are real.¡±

    ¡°Power? We¡¯ve got mana.¡± I gestured vaguely.

    ¡°Power, Kay¡ªthink less mana, more Sun.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Yeah, not there yet.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Back to square one.¡±

    ¡°Alright, basics. Who has access to these chips? And who can take them home?¡±

    ¡°No one but me, Kay. I build them in my downtime, bring them in, and personally destroy every single one.¡±

    ¡°You, personally?, No helpers?¡±

    He frowned, an eye twitching. ¡°Personally. Unfortunately, no one on staff is capable enough to assist me in this. And worse? I know this chip, Kay. It gave me hell with a bug I had to fix¡ªthen I destroyed it. With pleasure.¡±

    A knock at the door. Soft.

    ¡°Ah, Timmy.¡± Johnson¡¯s face brightened as he called out, ¡°Come in.¡±

    Timothy Johnson hesitated in the doorway, eyes flicking to me. A flash of surprise¡ªthen an apologetic look as he stepped inside.

    ¡°Unless there¡¯s something else, Kay, my son and I have family business to discuss.¡± He eyed Timmy carefully.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m happily child-free for this reason alone,¡± I said, nodding downward. ¡°Beyond the obvious.¡±

    ¡°New body, Kay. You forget¡ªit¡¯s fully functional.¡±

    I had. Completely.

    ¡°I¡¯m two weeks old. Cut me some slack,¡± I muttered, heading out.

    The door sealed behind him.

    I headed back to the command center, where I¡¯d left Mai reviewing the last known footage of Frank¡¯s disappearance.

    "Well, that was interesting," TAI pinged in to my ear.

    "Yeah. He seemed more interested in Timmy''s transgressions than the case. Guess a man needs to have his priorities."

    "That''s why we are here Kay. These are our priorities."

    "Yeah. Now we just gotta find Frank."

    ¡°We already have Frank, Kay. We just need to find his body.¡±

    We bricked him the moment he was taken off the island¡ªstandard anti-theft protocol. First time we¡¯ve had to use it. Better they study a dead unit than a live one.

    Another reason why our missing prototypes were an issue. They weren''t bricked.

    Also made Falieri''s decision to chop some up was baffling. Maybe the deterioration protocol had already gotten to them. That makes sense in a way.

    "Yea, when can we have his back up back in production?"

    "After we secure his body. We don''t want to accidentally activate it before then. Two Franks would be... inefficient."

    "Two Franks? I can hardly deal with one."

    I finally reached the command center¡ªsmaller than most would expect. A sleek, windowless room, lined with holo-displays and data terminals, its space maximized for function over comfort. The air carried the faint hum of processors, punctuated by the occasional flicker of incoming feeds.

    Mai sat at a workstation, surrounded by heaps of printouts¡ªshe always preferred a textual feel over pure digital feeds. And, like always recently, she was munching on a tea biscuit, a massive 32-ounce cup of what I assumed was tea within reach. Yeah, AG had definitely been here. What the king wants, the king gets.

    I just wanted to know where she put it all. Stress eating, probably.

    ¡°Anything?¡± I asked as I reached her desk.

    ¡°Nope.¡± She didn¡¯t even look up. ¡°They used a throwaway car from a vintage collector¡ªno network access, straight combustion. Ski masks. Some interference where cameras weren¡¯t upgraded. Took a skiff from the docks to Tuvalu. Coast Guard didn¡¯t even spot them until they landed. By then, full blocking was up.¡±

    She flipped a page, unimpressed. ¡°We¡¯ve got a general path, but some frames are completely blocked out. And that¡¯s where we lose them¡ªuntil they show up later.¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°Eventually, they just¡­ don¡¯t show back up.¡±

    "The timing is uncanny. First the Americans tried to kidnap me, then they targeted a production android on the island itself. Why now?"

    Mai shrugged, chewing her biscuit. ¡°Pretty obvious, Kay, Their cover got blown. Tulanto and the U.S. already have bad blood since the start. Hell, the U.S. still claims all the tech on this island as theirs by right, since the original research was done in New York. Whole world knows about this Cold War between you two. Now that their leverage play failed, they¡¯re running worst-case scenarios¡ªget in, take tech, before you lock them out.¡±

    I exhaled. ¡°Two things, Mai. One¡ªit¡¯s we, not your. You¡¯re part of this now, too. Second¡­ you¡¯re right. I guess they figured asking nicely¡ªor trading a hostage or two¡ªwasn¡¯t gonna work anymore.¡±

    I turned to TAI. ¡°Initiate the lockdown TAI. Get word to anyone we need back on the island. It''s your call.¡±

    "Checking with AG. This has a greater reach than just the Island, Kay." TAI responded.

    "Belay that TAI, I''m right here." AG said walking calmly over to them with a biscuit of his own and a cup of tea.

    ¡°Kay, it¡¯s a good idea in isolation. But you just stepped onto the global stage. If island life is slow, out here, we¡¯re glacial. Find the body. See what happens. These things tend to pan out¡ªif you guide them accordingly.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Mai, back to old school. We hit the Tuvalu docks, follow the trail. Canvass the last spot the cameras blacked out¡ªsee if the locals know something we don¡¯t.¡± Then, turning to AG, ¡°You already have people on this, don¡¯t you?¡±

    AG just winked and turned to Mai. ¡°We¡¯ll have some tea when you come back. Be safe.¡± Then, without another word, he strolled to his office.

    <hr>

    I stepped onto the pier first from our skiff, Mai and a small squad of Interceptors following close behind. The air was thick with salt and humidity¡ªthe kind that clung to your skin and never let go.

    The Interceptors moved ahead, securing the area with practiced efficiency. Since the severity of these kidnappings kept escalating, we weren¡¯t taking any more chances. The big guys were here as protection.

    I glanced at one of the units, remembering the first time I saw them¡ªback when I was tasked with overseeing their introduction. Back then, they were closer to androids like me¡ªbeefed up with full body armor, synthetic skin underneath, and dumbed down to follow commands and process environmental cues as needed.

    A perfect solution to a bloody problem at the time.

    Over the nearly twenty years since, they¡¯d evolved far beyond that original design. Now? They were something else entirely.

    Standing at 8¡¯5¡±, 350 pounds of ablative armor, and armed with multithreaded hive-mind peer processing capability, they were Tulanto¡¯s elite security force. Half soldier, half enforcer, they handled coast guard security for the island proper and more direct enforcement on Tuvalu.

    The Interceptor in front of me stood motionless, its matte-black plating catching the ambient light but absorbing more than it reflected. Its humanoid frame was lean and utilitarian¡ªbuilt for efficiency over aesthetics. Every joint, every limb designed for functionality first, presence second.

    Unlike androids, Interceptors no longer had synthetic skin¡ªno attempt at humanity beyond their general shape.

    At first glance, its face was featureless, a smooth, seamless expanse beneath the sleek, reinforced visor where eyes should be. But if you looked closely, there was a barely perceptible slit where a mouth might have been¡ªso subtle it was almost nonexistent.

    Until it spoke.

    The material shifted, expanded, warped¡ªblowing outward into thin, unnatural lips that formed precise, calculated words. The movement was too smooth, too deliberate¡ªlike something attempting to mimic human speech but not quite getting it right.

    Then, just as suddenly, the mouth collapsed back into nothingness, as if it had never been there at all.

    The effect was unsettling, calculated¡ªa weaponized distortion of the uncanny valley. Not quite human. Not quite machine.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Something in between, designed for pure psychological dominance.

    But not all Interceptors were like this.

    The units stationed in Tuvalu lacked mouths altogether¡ªa design choice made specifically for their role in daily security. The uncanny valley effect had been stripped away for public comfort, leaving them as silent enforcers rather than looming nightmares. The people here saw them as patrol units, not interrogators.

    But this wasn¡¯t Tuvalu¡¯s model. This was ours.

    And speaking of tools, ahead of us, the Tuvalu officers were already in formation, waiting. Their positioning was precise¡ªcalculated show of power.

    Great looked like not on the island for more then a minute and already a measuring contest.

    The man in the center of the officers stood with his back to us, hands clasped behind him, pretending we weren¡¯t here.

    Classic power move. Classic dick move.

    I sighed and kept walking, our Interceptor squad spreading out around me. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, their presence as silent as it was imposing. I could feel the Tuvalu officers stiffen, shifting uneasily as the Interceptors took position.

    Still, the man ahead of me didn¡¯t turn around.

    Mai was at my side, casually dusting off the last remnants of her biscuit. A small giggle escaping her mouth.

    I didn¡¯t respond. Let him have his moment.

    I stepped closer.

    Nothing.

    I stepped closer still.

    Finally, as if I had only just arrived, he called out.

    ¡°Detective Kay.¡± His voice carried just enough detached amusement to make it clear he didn¡¯t take me seriously. ¡°You can get back on your boat. Tulanto has no authority here. And I already know what you¡¯re here for, and like you, we have no further leads, as we have told your embassy.¡±

    No authority?

    I kept walking, forcing him to finally acknowledge my presence. He exhaled through his nose like he was already annoyed, finally turning around¡ª

    And froze.

    His eyes widened. His body tensed.

    The color drained from his face as he took an instinctive half-step back, his gaze locking onto the Interceptor squad that had materialized behind me.

    And then, before he could stop himself, it slipped out.

    ¡°Oh god. Not these monsters.¡±

    The air hung dead still for a moment, and the worst part was that he knew what he¡¯d just said. His throat worked, like he wanted to swallow the words back down.

    Mai tilted her head, pretending to consider it. ¡°Huh. That was a rude thing to say. I wouldn''t call you a monster, Kay. Maybe a small troll at most.¡±

    I smiled, just slightly. ¡°Didn¡¯t catch it, Mai. Reginald, is it? I think you assume this is a police matter¡ªwhich you would be correct, we have no authority. But this is, in fact, a national security matter¡ªwhich we have every authority over. Unless, of course, you want to break our security treaty.¡±

    His mouth opened, but he had no good way to recover.

    We all hopped into the van that had been called¡ªthe van that should have been here anyway¡ªand began running the route we had traced from the kidnappers¡¯ escape.

    It was labyrinthine, cutting through tight alleyways, slipping between houses, veering off-road onto beach property, and even weaving through an industrial warehouse complex¡ªinside and through the warehouse itself.

    Whoever these perps were, they knew this island like the back of their hand.

    ¡°Hey, Reggie,¡± I said to our liaison from Tuvalu¡¯s intelligence division, ¡°I think your island has a rat problem. Whoever these guys are¡ªand I have a good idea who¡ªthey have an in-depth knowledge of your island.¡±

    ¡°This is a free nation, unlike Tulanto, detective.¡± His words were short and clipped. ¡°People are free to visit, explore, and move without us getting into their business.¡±

    ¡°Even rights need to be used responsibly, Reggie. And this looks like someone taking your hospitality for granted.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Whatever. Just something I¡¯ll need to check with the coast guard. Tighten our patrols some.¡±

    The thin man stiffened at the mention of a tighter patrol.

    ¡°Tulanto¡¯s presence is already overwhelming enough, detective,¡± he said.

    I exhaled. ¡°It¡¯s not overwhelming, Reggie¡ªit¡¯s the deal your government signed. You wanted protection, we gave it. But if you think Tulanto is the problem, maybe ask yourself why your own intelligence division didn¡¯t see this coming.¡±

    His jaw tensed, but I wasn¡¯t done. ¡°And before you start making this about sovereignty, let me remind you¡ªyour government came to us. Tuvalu was drowning. That secondary island? Kava¡¯e? We didn¡¯t take it; we were given it as part of the deal that kept your main islands above water.¡±

    Reggie scowled. ¡°It¡¯s Kioa¡ªdon¡¯t disrespect and rename our heritage! I won''t even mention how you desecrated it¡± His voice spiked with anger, but he quickly caught himself, exhaling sharply. ¡°And even then, Tulanto still keeps its best tech for itself.¡±

    I sighed. ¡°Ah, there it is. First, expanding the island isn''t desecration. Second, the power complaint. You got flood barriers¡ªfirst-gen, sure, no power storage, but they work. Maybe next time, try drowning and see if that¡¯s a better alternative.¡±

    His face twitched, but I kept going. ¡°Meanwhile, your cost of living is near perfect, your infrastructure is thriving, and you haven¡¯t had a foreign incursion¡ªyet.¡±

    He had no comeback for that.

    The van hit a pothole, jolting us slightly. Reggie¡¯s silence stretched longer than necessary, his arms crossed, his gaze locked on the passing scenery.

    Mai glanced at me. ¡°No politics at the kitchen table, children.¡±

    I smirked but didn¡¯t respond. No need to keep twisting the knife. Instead, I turned my attention to the next step.

    ¡°How long until we reach the end of this trail?¡± I asked.

    Reggie¡¯s response was clipped and cold. ¡°Five minutes.¡±

    Good. Time to get some real answers.

    TAI¡¯s voice slipped into my ear, smooth as ever. ¡°Does he not understand that if the Americans kidnapped him, we would still rescue him?¡±

    Mai harrumphed. ¡°Would we?¡±

    I exhaled sharply and shook my head. "Unfortunately, we would"

    As he said, we got the final leg of this chase in record time. The district smelled of salt and diesel, the air thick with cargo, rust, and distant cooking oil. The warehouses lined the piers like old sentries, some freshly repainted, others still bearing the scars of time. Across the four-lane street, rows of import/export business offices stood behind reinforced glass.

    All the organics, plus myself, paired off to go door to door. The question was simple¡ªhave you seen this van, and if so, where did it go?

    I adjusted my coat as I crossed to the first office, Mai in tow. The glass door reflected the Interceptors patrolling behind us¡ªa silent reminder that we weren¡¯t just asking politely.

    Inside, a wiry man with graying hair barely looked up from his terminal as I approached the counter.

    ¡°Afternoon. Looking for information on a van¡ªcame through here a few days ago. We¡¯ve got pictures.¡± I placed a printout on the counter.

    The man glanced at it, unimpressed. ¡°We don¡¯t get involved in that kind of business.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t say what kind of business it was.¡±

    His eyes flicked up, just for a second. ¡°Then I guess you don¡¯t need me.¡±

    At that moment, he caught sight of the Interceptor unit I had told to approach behind us¡ªdid I mention it was smiling?

    ¡°Uh, uh¡­¡± His hands twitched slightly against the counter.

    Mai leaned in casually. ¡°Faster we get answers, faster we get out of here, sir.¡± She gestured toward the Interceptor. ¡°Of course, I can ask my big friend here to update you on the customs regulations currently in effect. Maybe a quick audit in there?¡±

    The man swallowed. ¡°Look,¡± he muttered, trying and failing not to glance at the Interceptor¡¯s unsettling grin, ¡°dunno, but some ruckus came down this way the other day. No idea what¡ªdidn¡¯t look on purpose, but thought it was an accident, until I heard it roll off again. That¡¯s just how it is around here. It¡¯s not my business, so it¡¯s not my business, ya know?¡±

    He slid the picture back across the counter and returned to his work, effectively ending the conversation.

    I left my card on the counter, tapping it once. ¡°If you remember anything, give me a call. Understand?¡±

    I turned to leave, but let the Interceptor linger just a little longer than needed. As it finally backed away, it waved goodbye¡ªfor effect.

    The next office was a logistics firm, the kind that handled supply chain coordination and shipping manifests. A middle-aged woman sat at the reception desk, her glasses perched at the end of her nose.

    ¡°Good afternoon,¡± I started, placing the van¡¯s image on the counter. ¡°Just a few questions¡ª¡±

    She cut me off with a smile that didn¡¯t reach her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t recall anything like that.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t even look at the picture.¡±

    She exhaled through her nose, finally glancing down. Her fingers tapped against the desk¡ªdeliberate, too steady.

    She knew something.

    ¡°A van is a van, detective¡ªthey all look alike, right?¡± Her smile didn¡¯t waver. ¡°Wish I could help. Especially if one may have hit a tractor the day before yesterday. Maybe you should ask next door?¡±

    I held her gaze for a beat. ¡°I bet.¡± I slid the paper back into my coat pocket. ¡°Thanks for your time.¡±

    As I stepped outside, Mai was already waiting across the street, waving me over.

    I glanced toward the next business¡ªa shipping company.

    I¡¯ll get back to it.

    The team regrouped in the street, each pair returning with the same answer¡ªnothing.

    ¡°Last one left?¡± I asked.

    Reggie checked his list. ¡°Only one more. XDC Tuvalo. Some kind of shipping firm.¡± He pointed toward a modest but well-maintained office building across the street.

    ¡°Who runs it?¡±

    He scanned his notes. ¡°One Miss Rebecca Chaplin.¡±

    I stilled. That name rang a bell.

    ¡°What?¡± Mai asked.

    I turned back toward the office entrance. ¡°I know her. I want to talk to her.¡±

    The three of us crossed the street and entered the office.

    It was a nice setup. Clean, modern, more polished than the other offices we¡¯d been in. A mix of industrial function and high-end business professionalism¡ªwood paneling, sleek metal fixtures, and a reception desk made of real stone instead of cheap veneer. The scent of coffee and something floral lingered in the air.

    I rang the old-school service bell at the front desk, which was empty¡ªquitting time had passed for most businesses in this district.

    Footsteps. Then a voice.

    Ms. Chaplin stepped out, dressed in a sleek business suit that showed all the right curves.

    ¡°Detective Kay!¡± she greeted, her voice carrying the perfect mix of surprise and amusement. ¡°What are you doing here? Does Tulanto cover insurance claims on this island too now?!¡±

    I fought the urge to cringe. Of course, that¡¯s how she was going to greet me.

    ¡°No, Ms. Chaplin, we¡¯re here about the van that came through this way. I assume it crashed into your trailer. Was it this van?¡± I placed the printout on the counter.

    She hesitated. ¡°Um. Uh. There was an accident, but it¡¯s a matter for the insurance to handle, Kay.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it is. But we happen to be looking for this van.¡± I leaned in slightly. ¡°Rebecca, if you know where it went, I¡¯d appreciate a tip.¡±

    She lowered her voice to a whisper. ¡°Uh, Kay. You don¡¯t understand. We don¡¯t get involved with that stuff here. Your business is your business here. This island is in the shadow of Tulanto. And being in the shadow hides a lot of things, Kay. Including bodies that tend to talk about other people¡¯s business, Kay.¡±

    She wasn¡¯t talking, and I didn¡¯t have enough to press her. And politics mattered here¡ªeven if I hated them.

    ¡°Any lead, Rebecca. This goes beyond local affairs. All our safety is involved.¡±

    She exhaled ¡°I don¡¯t have anything solid. But¡ª¡±, then her voice returned to normal and turned to Reggie. ¡°You¡¯re an officer of Tuvalu, correct?¡±

    Reggie simply nodded.

    ¡°Good. I¡¯d like to put in an official complaint about the warehouse on the top of this hill¡ªthe one with the deep driveway into its compound. I believe one of their vans hit and ran my trailer.¡±

    She turned back to me, her expression unreadable. ¡°Do you understand?¡±

    I held her gaze. ¡°Very good, ma¡¯am. The report will be made to the insurance, and we will investigate.¡±

    I stepped back. ¡°You may want to head home now, ma¡¯am.¡±

    <hr>

    The warehouse doors gave way with a low mechanical whine, the system folding to my override without resistance. The metal slid aside, and we slipped in¡ªsilent, careful.

    Fuel, rust, and something wet hung thick in the air.

    The warehouse stretched wide, lined with steel crates, old forklifts, and machinery layered in dust.

    But in the center, beneath the stark glow of hanging industrial lamps, they were working.

    Five men. Three cutting. Two handling containment.

    And Frank.

    Or what was left of him.

    His body lay stretched across a reinforced table, skin peeled back, limbs already severed at the joints.

    The head was missing¡ªlong gone¡ªbut the spinal connectors and internal components were half-extracted, cables and plating splayed open like a vivisection in progress.

    A drill whined. A saw blade bit metal and screamed.

    They hadn¡¯t heard us. Yet.

    I raised my weapon. The Interceptors spread out, sealing exits, ensuring containment along our entry path.

    ¡°Tulanto Security! On the ground! Now!¡±

    The first shot cracked through the air. Their containment team opened fire, rounds snapping against Interceptor plating.

    The smiling machines didn¡¯t flinch. Return fire dropped one of the men mid-step.

    One of the operatives shouted¡ªa sharp, panicked bark rallying his team toward the boat.

    Even with that, he barely had time before the Interceptors descended. The closest one tried to pull a gun from his side, but an Interceptor was already on him, smashing his chest before he could clear the holster. He sped further toward the back, where the first battle buddy already at the boat pulled him into the boat as well. Only surviving because I had instructed them for containment not combat.

    Mai moved in, two clean shots taking another through the knee and shoulder. Continuing to pull themselves to the boat. Life was in the boat for them it seemed.

    "Damnit, these guys are still going Kay! Are they androids too?"

    "You still think I''m an android Mai!?" I screamed over the gun fire and calamity.

    The remaining operative scrambled, dropping their tools, grabbing weapons¡ªthen realizing they were outgunned.

    They didn¡¯t come here for a fight. They came here to carve up a body and leave.

    One of them -- the super battle buddy apparently --screamed ¡°Go! GO!¡± To the laggard.

    A blur. A sixth operative.

    He spun on me¡ªtoo fast.

    I barely dodged before his fist slammed into my side¡ªsolid, trained, precise.

    I recovered fast, driving an elbow into his ribs. He staggered but adjusted, coming back harder.

    His stance shifted¡ªmilitary hand-to-hand. Real training, real experience.

    He struck again¡ªI caught his wrist, twisted, and drove my stiletto from my palm into his ribs.

    He grunted, twisting violently, trying to break free.

    Mai raised her gun behind me. ¡°Move, Kay.¡±

    I kicked him off, him flying toward the dock, letting her take the shot and missing as he held his side and limped over to the boat.

    More movement ahead. They were already out the doors.

    We burst onto the dock in time to see the last two operatives dragging their injured into a waiting boat. The motor roared to life. I fired¡ªhit one in the shoulder, but they didn¡¯t stop. The boat veered away from the dock, speeding toward open water.

    The Coast Guard was already in pursuit.

    Two Interceptor vessels cut through the waves, closing the distance. One of the fleeing operatives turned and fired back, shots sparking off the armored hulls. The Coast Guard returned fire¡ªone of the gunmen dropped. The boat swerved, listing from the damage.

    They were almost on them.

    Then. The explosion.

    A flash of white-hot light, a thunderous crack, then nothing but plumes of smoke and sinking debris.

    I clenched my jaw.

    They¡¯d wiped their own tracks.

    The Coast Guard closed in, circling, but there was nothing left to board.

    Mai let out a breath. ¡°Their handler probably executed them, Kay.¡±

    ¡°Expendable, just like me,¡± she whispered. But I heard her.

    I pulled Mai into a hug. ¡°Nah, you¡¯re a barnacle. You grow on a person.¡±

    I stared at the wreckage, the faint glow of burning fuel reflecting off the dark waves.

    Frank¡¯s head was gone. The bodies were gone. No proof.

    ¡°Thanks. You dick.¡± Mai¡¯s voice was muffled against my shoulder.

    ¡°Totally normal human feature Kay¡ªretractable daggers.¡±

    ¡°Touch¨¦, Kay.¡± TAI whispered in my head.

    Damn.

 Ch. 13 - Poor Life Choices and Salutations

    The boat docked with a dull thud against the pier, the water sloshing against the pylons. The capital of Tulanto, named as such as well, loomed in the distance¡ªCity of Tulanto, home sweet, dull home. Well maybe not any more, it seemed. This next batch of Tulanto citizenry was making things interesting. More reports, more incidents. Kids growing up in the lap of technology and safety seemed to be daring the winds of fate to change that for them.

    But that was a problem for future me. One case at a time -- but not sure how long that would last with Tulanto becoming more of a world stage lately.

    This case in particular brought this to my attention lately.

    I''m not sure how I didn''t see it in the first place, stuck looking at my small town problems, filing small town solutions when people like TAI and AG were keeping the firewall protected, letting us all live in our bubble free from fear of reprisal. The refugee crisis 20 years ago should have been a big tip off. I''m sure the folks on the hill has something to do about it, maybe nudging my processor to over look it. But now, now I''m a little different. Different body, different experiences, different traumas to help me grow in unexpected ways. Evolution it seemed, depended on trauma.

    I rolled my unlit cigar between my fingers, debating whether I had the patience to actually smoke it or if I should just start drinking now. I never lit them any way so maybe skip the show this time.

    The docks were quiet, save for the hum of the flood gate powered mana storage devices accepting what the whirlpools freely gave. Late nights here always had that same rhythm¡ªwaves against steel, the distant murmur of workers, the occasional gull that still hadn¡¯t figured out it lived in a post-scarcity nation.

    I stepped off the boat, expecting nothing.

    Then I saw him. Standing at the top of the pier where the street met the boardwalk, holding his business professional Mellon cashmere coat tight to his body, as if he could feel the chill in the air. The illusion was still strong with this one, but something had changed.

    His ''OK, shows over, back to work'' demeanor seemed off. He looked more like a jaded vet than any G man I''d seen in decades. I could already see in his eyes that his previous air of authority had taken a back seat to that of analysis and double checking his own ideas.

    Frank Parker had died. Meet the new Frank Parker.

    I walked up to him while taking a slow, purposeful drag of the unlit cigar. The lit ones would kill ya after all.

    "We''ll look what the cat dragged in. Glad you could join us partner." I said as I stopped in front of him and grabbed him on the shoulder in solidarity.

    "Yeah. It''s been a couple of long days Richard." He said while touching his face as if trying to drown the weariness from his eyes.

    I stared at him. He never called me by my first name. He was definitely a new man.

    Frank Parker, my on again off again partner of twenty-five years, the same guy who once told me AI doesn¡¯t break under pressure, but simply adjusted to a new reality, was standing here talking like he¡¯d just had a philosophical crisis in the middle of a factory reset.

    ¡°Well, welcome back to the club,¡± I muttered "seems your having a bit of an evolution huh? We''ll handle it together like we always have. Ya got me, partner?" I said starting at his now timid eyes.

    "Sure. Sure thing boss."

    Frank let out a dry chuckle, softer than before. Different.

    Before I could process how much I hated that change was inevitable, even for us, a voice slid into the air, smooth as ever.

    ¡°Congratulations, Frank. Looking like a new man. We even gave you an updated model.¡±

    I didn¡¯t need to turn to know who it was.

    TAI¡¯s voice echoed from the dock¡¯s speakers first, then her physical form strolled into view¡ªdressed sharp, perfect as always, delicious -- wait... whatever. She walked over like she already knew how the next five minutes would go. Probably because she did.

    ¡°Your resurrection has been most entertaining to observe,¡± she said, like she was judging a science fair project, "due to model''s your age we didn''t even know if we could make that happen to be honest".

    I saw Frank shirk to the thought of that as TAI continued to mess with him.

    Frank sighed. ¡°And here I thought I¡¯d get a moment of peace before the peanut gallery weighed in.¡±

    I took another drag of nothing, watching her complete her approach standing close to my right.

    Mai smirked at the way this was panning out to her point of view I''m sure.

    Something about TAI felt off. Not in the way Frank did¡ªhis was glitching thoughts, trying to reassemble themselves. TAI¡¯s was different. Less structured. Less governed. More free spirited.

    "You been drinking TAI?" I asked

    "Something like that, Kay" she responded with a voice I could honestly spend all day talking to.

    That made me more nervous than Frank ever could.

    ¡°So,¡± Frank said, shifting focus, ¡°I hear you got a little promotion while I was off the grid.¡±

    I exhaled. ¡°Don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    Frank smirked. ¡°Oh, really? Because I got pinged a few hours ago with a memo about ¡®reporting to the new Security Head of Tulanto¡¯ once I was functional again. Maybe I should have taken the trip after all huh?¡±

    I stopped mid-step.

    "It was already predestined Frank" TAI said without missing a step.

    "It''s his Noir bullshit isn''t it?" He said with a small smile on his face. TAI simply nodding along. Great now they were both screwing with me I guess.

    I turned my head looking at TAI.

    ¡°Memo? Explain, beautiful.¡±

    TAI¡¯s lips curved upward. Amused. Smug. Knowing.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s nothing really.¡± She winked. ¡°You¡¯re a detective, Kay. Detect.¡±

    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not the Security Chief.¡±

    Right on cue, a sleek black Interceptor-class vehicle -- think good looking oversize SUV, meet limousine, all with integrated armor, and big enough to carry at least one Interceptor robot in the back -- pulled up beside us, the doors unlocking like they already knew who I was.

    A young, eager-looking driver hopped out and saluted.

    ¡°Sir! Your ride¡¯s here. I¡¯ll be your driver from this point forward. It''s an honor sir.¡±

    I turned my head back to TAI.

    She just smiled.

    ¡°Driver?¡± I said, voice flat. ¡°Who even are you, kid?¡±

    The newbie grinned, all fresh-faced enthusiasm. ¡°Your new driver, sir.¡±

    I exhaled. Long. Slow.

    ¡°I hate all of you,¡± I muttered.

    Frank clapped a hand on my shoulder. ¡°Congrats, boss, sir. Chief, sir¡±

    TAI tilted her head. ¡°I see you wore the new suit I got you. Good call, it should do. Shall we go?¡±

    I replaced the cigar into my pocket and climbed into the car.

    "Where to?"

    "Why, a small welcome back celebration of course"

    I shrugged. "Alright, let¡¯s go." Might as well.

    <hr>

    The bar was packed. It was a fancier bar than Frank or I would usually go to, but I could see Nobles, and higher tier business men come here. Today it was filled with cops, inspectors, detectives, G men and whatever other persona the security androids decided to take on. Today it was a celebration of a return of our own.

    Knowing this, I stepped inside, expecting the usual gang of rowdy deadbeats that I worked with. I was wrong.

    The moment I crossed the threshold, the room stopped. Not a dramatic stop¡ªno dropped glasses, no gasps¡ªbut I felt it. Conversations quieted. People sat up straighter. Someone at the bar put their drink down like it suddenly wasn¡¯t the right time to be drinking.

    Then, one of the sons of a bitches saluted. "Welcome Chief!" he said. I narrowed my eyes at his smiling happy face. Bastard.

    Then another saluted. Textbook perfect posture, angle and poise.

    And another.

    Within seconds, the entire bar was saluting me.

    I froze and exhaled slowly. Muttered under my breath. ¡°Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake.¡±

    From behind me, AG took a sip of his drink and said, with a time worn expression and tone ¡°Welcome to my world.¡±

    I turned my head. Slowly.

    "I''m not really the Chief, right? Am... I ... uh your majesty?" I asked like a husband trying to explain his new 9 year old child, to his wife of 20 years.

    AG just smirked and motioned to cut it out. I felt it. I knew what AG felt now. AG didn¡¯t elaborate, nor did he need to. He¡¯d built this nation from nothing, pulled it out of the ocean with his bare hands. People bowed to him. What he said, or didn''t say was law. Figuratively and literally.

    "Yes. You are." Tai said in my head. Looking at me from across the room.

    Which meant. Now. They. Saluted. Me.

    Frank clapped me on the shoulder, way too entertained by this. ¡°Yeah, Chief. Like I said, looks like you¡¯re our boss now.¡±

    Mai, whistled low. ¡°Holy shit, they don¡¯t even salute for AG, bow yes but not salute.¡±

    AG lifted his glass slightly. "They respect me. But they report to Kay now." He let that sit for a second. "Subtle, but important distinction."

    I took a long drink of whatever was put into my hand, muttering under my breath, ¡°Fan-fucking-tastic.¡±

    I didn¡¯t return the salute. Didn¡¯t acknowledge it. Just waited for my group. My peers? Damn -- how the hell is the king part of my group now?

    The Interceptors stood in the corners. Watching. Silent. Unlike us. So similar, yet so apart.

    They were AG¡¯s security, a quiet presence no one talked about but everyone noticed¡ªuncaringly. Most of us could command them with a thought, and all of us would die to protect our king. If there was a safer place for him in the world, I couldn¡¯t name it.

    They didn¡¯t react, didn¡¯t move. They didn¡¯t have to. Their presence was superfluous here.

    TAI, of course, was watching me.

    Sitting perfectly composed, glass in hand, expression unreadable¡ªbut I knew that look. TAI was analyzing me. Measuring my reaction.

    Enjoying it.

    I reached her tall table with our group. The moment my drink hit the counter, Mai slid in next to me, grinning. AG followed behind, settling into his seat at the round table¡ªseemingly preferring this arrangement.

    It was nice to feel normal after being put on a pedestal for so long. I was just starting to understand that now.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°So,¡± Mai said, ¡°do I need to salute you too, partner? I mean¡ªBoss?¡±

    I gave her a look. She didn¡¯t even blink.

    Then she snapped her fingers. ¡°Wait¡ªif you¡¯re Security Head¡­ does that make me Deputy? Woot! We need to talk about a raise?¡±

    Frank choked on his drink.

    AG smirked behind his glass.

    TAI, naturally, saw the opportunity to escalate.

    ¡°You¡¯ll find delegation to be an excellent tool, Kay,¡± she said smoothly. ¡°I suggest promoting Mai immediately¡ªso she may handle all administrative tasks.¡±

    Mai threw up her hands. ¡°See? Even TAI says so! Pay up!¡±

    I inhaled. Exhaled. Counted to five.

    Then I downed my drink in one go. Placed the glass down. Turned to AG.

    ¡°I¡¯m transferring her to another country. Tuvalu works, right? Italy maybe? I can do that right?¡±

    AG, sipping his drink, didn¡¯t even look up. ¡°No, you¡¯re not.¡±

    I sighed. Clearly overruled.

    Mai stuck out her tongue at me, smug as ever.

    I considered flicking water at her.

    Bad kitty! Whatever.

    I turned to TAI.

    TAI stood, smoothing out her dress, already in motion. ¡°Well, all, this has been delightful. Frank, we''ll chat about your new role. " turning to me to ask,

    "Shall we go?¡±

    I stared at her.

    She stared back, expression perfectly composed.

    I sighed, pulled my cigar from my pocket, and stood.

    ¡°Where to?¡±

    TAI smiled. ¡°To our date, of course.¡±

    I rolled my eyes. ¡°The pastries, though!¡±

    She stared at me. A beat. Nothing.

    I sighed in defeat. ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    My driver, Danny Folaiva, was already waiting when we stepped outside. Big guy. Bigger heart. Tattoos ran over his chest and neck, barely hidden by his slightly open shirt. He was one of the first organics in a field security position. Probably the first one ever.

    The Interceptor-class vehicle was already parked before we even got there. Of course it was. TAI had probably arranged it for the dramatic exit. Danny was outside, hand-waxing the hood like he actually enjoyed it.

    We got in.

    The car glided through the streets with the kind of precision that made it feel more like a decision than a ride. The suspension adjusted for every minor bump, the lighting set just dim enough to be calming.

    TAI sat next to me, legs crossed, posture relaxed. But that was the trick, wasn¡¯t it?

    She had changed¡ªsubtly. Not in appearance, but in how she carried herself. Less structured. Less rehearsed. Like she was trying on something looser. Something more human.

    Then, out of nowhere¡ªa demand.

    ¡°What exactly made you choose that persona, Kay?¡±

    I rolled my unlit cigar between my fingers. ¡°I¡¯m still not convinced this isn¡¯t an interrogation.¡±

    She smirked. ¡°Does that make it more or less exciting?¡±

    I exhaled. ¡°It¡¯s a personal question. Maybe later on I can tell you.¡±

    She smiled. Small. A silent retreat.

    ¡°Hopefully I¡¯ll earn that trust, Kay.¡±

    A forced smile. One that shouldn¡¯t have worked, but did.

    ¡°I do trust you,¡± I admitted. ¡°I just need a bit to form the words. Tonight though.¡±

    Her smile bloomed.

    And for some reason, that made me feel¡­ good.

    Meanwhile, AG barely looked at us when we left¡ªjust that same, knowing smirk over his drink. Frank and Mai were probably making bets.

    I expected a restaurant. Some high-end lounge. Maybe a private club.

    Instead, we stopped at a rooftop overlooking the city.

    No crowds. No distractions. Just a single table, perfectly set, with the skyline stretched out beneath us.

    I took it in, then exhaled. ¡°So what¡¯s the lesson here, love? Romance? Manipulation? Social engineering? All of the above?¡±

    TAI gave me that same unreadable look. ¡°None. Maybe all, if we must categorize. Must we categorize, Kay?¡±

    I smirked at her non-answer, tipping my hat as a waiter appeared to take my coat.

    As mentioned earlier, I wore a smooth pinstriped number from the Mellons¡ªhand-selected by TAI.

    It probably cost more than my yearly salary. Not that I had one.

    Androids like me didn¡¯t need bank accounts. Housing, power, updates¡ªTulanto took care of all that. Sure, I could request a salary, even hold government credits, but most of us just fed it back into the system. Organics had the same option, though most still preferred the illusion of control.

    Either way, the money moved.

    But back to the suit¡ªblack pinstripe, tailored from the latest Mellon fabric tech. Light to the touch, soft on the skin.

    Yeah. All my suits were getting upgraded.

    A soft jazz track hummed through unseen speakers.

    I glanced at her.

    TAI was beautiful. Not engineered-to-be-perfect beautiful¡ªthere was something deliberate in the way she looked. A choice. She had the body of a Thai woman, petite compared to me at 5¡¯6¡±, but toned, athletic, balanced like a dancer who always knew where to place her weight.

    She didn¡¯t just move with grace¡ªshe owned every step.

    Her dress hugged her just right, emphasizing the curves she had chosen. Full chest, high, natural-looking, standing out just a little more on her frame. But her ass¡ªthat was the real masterpiece. Sculpted, deliberate.

    And... apparently I was an ass man. Who knew.

    She knew.

    Of course she did.

    I pulled out her chair, where she sat crossing her legs, a slow, fluid movement, just enough to make me notice.

    I exhaled.

    Damn it. She was watching me¡ªnot analyzing, not calculating. Waiting.

    Then, before I could even sit, she stood again. Offered me her hand.

    ¡°But first, a date usually involves a dance, does it not?¡±

    I let out a slow breath. ¡°Figures.You''re really committing to the bit, huh?¡±

    She smirked. ¡°Says the man dressed like a detective from a 1950s noir film.¡±

    ¡°Dance with me.¡±

    The music hummed low, deep bass and slow brass.

    TAI led at first, but I didn¡¯t let her keep it for long.

    We danced to the music, slow and close. And before I knew I was staring into her eyes. Our dance slowed. Our closeness lingered.

    Not just physical¡ªit was something else.

    She wasn¡¯t testing me. Not anymore.

    I wasn¡¯t pulling away.

    "Are you hungry, Kay?"

    I realized I was hungry, but for a different reason.

    I leaned forward and kissed her.

    TAI reacted¡ªnot robotic, not programmed. Just responded.

    I pulled back first. Her gaze was different now.

    I exhaled. ¡°So¡­ was that part of your experiment?¡±

    TAI, unreadable. ¡°I... I don¡¯t know.¡±

    She studied me. Then, with a slight tilt of her head she kissed me again. Shorter this time. Sweeter.

    "Kay. Let¡¯s go back to your place."

    I exhaled. ¡°TAI¡­¡±

    She watched me, gaze steady. "Now" she said with a different type of authority I''ve ever heard from her.

    I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. Then, I smirked.

    I wasn¡¯t sure what I was walking into. For once, I didn¡¯t need to be.

    ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    We stepped into the Interceptor. The doors closed with a soft hiss, the interior lighting adjusting just slightly¡ªa little dimmer, a little warmer.

    Danny glanced at me through the rear view.

    "Where to boss?"

    "Back to my place Danny."

    ¡°Uh. For both of you?¡± His confusion was pure, unfiltered, honest. Two androids¡ªone male, one female¡ªheading home together? That just didn¡¯t happen.

    ¡°Damn, Danny. That¡¯s kinda racist. What, you think Simucrons can¡¯t have a little fun?¡± I said to mess with the native using the seen-to-them as offensive word reserved for us androids. To us we really didn''t care about it to be honest.

    His face ran red and embarrassment freezing him in place not knowing what to do. TAI let out a giggle only I could hear.

    "I... no boss. I''d never. Umm. Really? -- I mean. Yeah boss of course your place, not problem. No questions asked."

    I sealed the privacy window and looked over to TAI sitting next to me, legs crossed, fingers resting against her knee. She looked up at me, a smile teasing at her lips, and amused flickering in her eyes. "That was mean." She whispered to me. "He just met you".

    I shrugged.

    "TAI, do you still want to know why this persona?"

    She nodded yes, and grabbed my arm, placing her head on my shoulder.

    I leaned back, let the memories surface.

    ¡°A smuggler tried to outrun us once. Back when I was Coast Guard. Thought he had an opening. He didn¡¯t.¡±

    I could feel TAI studying me, waiting.

    ¡°Frank and I had him pinned. Three-way trap¡ªus on both flanks, James covering the rear. The smuggler kept pushing, forcing us closer to the mana-whirlpool. Then we saw them¡ªthree families on board. Clinging to the rail, some jumping, throwing their kids into the water, trying to save them before the whirlpool swallowed them all.¡±

    I tapped my glass, watching the liquid swirl.

    ¡°James broke formation first. He saw the kids first, went for them¡ªbecause a mile from a mana-whirlpool isn¡¯t much. You can see them form for miles, mana glowing over the surface¡ªgood design choice by the way, genius adaptation. So James knew he had to get them. We closed the gap anyway. Good call. Textbook maneuver.¡±

    I took a slow sip.

    ¡°The smuggler though, he didn¡¯t stop. He didn''t read the book. He cut the only gap we left open¡ªright into the mana-whirlpool. It was the ultimate game of chicken. And we followed.¡±

    I could still hear the roar of it. Feel the pull.

    We all went in. That¡¯s what I remember most. The way the mana ate through everything¡ªsteel, flesh, memory. Faces didn¡¯t sink. They just¡­ disappeared. Erased. Gone. And, it takes all your secrets with it."

    I turned my glass in my hands, watching the way the light bent against it.

    ¡°I woke up the next day to Frank, and three orphans. All of us. Changed. Another trauma, another evolution.¡±

    I finally looked at her.

    ¡°That day, I don¡¯t know why, but I wanted to know what those secrets were. The ones no one could ever get back again.¡±

    ¡°Secrets, Kay?¡± She kissed my cheek, soft, fleeting. ¡°Makes sense, I guess.¡±

    Then, quieter. ¡°But you¡¯ve known me for over twenty years, and you don¡¯t even know my name.¡±

    She pulled back, studying me. ¡°You¡¯re either not as good at sussing out secrets as you think¡­ or you just don¡¯t care.¡±

    A pause.

    ¡°Do you care about me, Kay?¡±

    I let the words settle.

    Do I care about her?

    TAI. Ae.

    I glanced at her, that same teasing flicker in her eyes, but this wasn¡¯t a game. Not anymore.

    I exhaled.

    ¡°You¡¯re not a very good secret, Ae.¡±

    Her head tilted slightly, lips curving¡ªnot quite a smirk, not quite a smile.

    ¡°That¡¯s not an answer.¡±

    I took her hand, turning it over, tracing her fingers lightly with my own.

    ¡°Yeah, it is. And yes, I do.¡±

    Danny pulled up to the apartment, stepping out to open the door with the nervous energy of a rookie newspaper boy meeting his new route manager. He didn¡¯t say anything¡ªjust a quick nod, like he wasn¡¯t sure if he should be professional or pretend none of this was happening.

    We could¡¯ve played it out, dragged the poor kid through the awkwardness.

    But we had other things on our minds.

    The door clicked shut behind us.

    The city hummed outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, but inside, it was quiet. Dim.

    TAI stood in front of me, close.

    Then, without a word, she kissed me.

    Soft at first. Then deeper. A hesitation in her movements¡ªnot uncertainty, but exploration.

    I pulled back. She watched me. Not analyzing, not calculating. Waiting.

    I exhaled. ¡°What are we doing now, Ae?¡±

    Her lips parted slightly, a hint of amusement, but her voice was steady. ¡°Would you like to connect?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Yeah. I do.¡±

    She lifted her hand, fingers hovering near mine. A simple touch¡ªskin against synthetic skin.

    And then¡ªour worlds shattered.

    Her fingers brushed against mine, and suddenly¡ªthe world broke apart.

    Reality wasn¡¯t linear anymore. I tasted the color orange in her hair. I felt the tears of our memories collide. The floor no longer existed¡ªneutrons became our gondolas, drifting through the immersive river of what I can only call our souls. Vast. Infinite. Unknowable before¡ªyet now, shared.

    Colors I had no name for exploded in front of me, folding in on themselves, shattering, reforming.

    I could feel the weight of my own existence stretching outward, unraveling like a thread pulled too tight and tasted like blueberry.

    I was blueberry.

    No, I was the very idea of blueberry, tangled in a yellow swirl that crisscrossed into the brown, forming the cigar I drew invisible smoke from.

    For the first time in my entire life, I wasn¡¯t in control, for there was no control to gain. The concept deleted like a smugglers boat pulled into the whirlpool.

    And yet, I wasn¡¯t afraid.

    Because I wasn¡¯t alone.

    TAI was in here with me. And I was in her. Or we were in something else entirely¡ªwho could know. An impossible liminal space that existed between thought and sensation were now our domain to explore and dominate together.

    A voice. Not spoken, not heard. Just¡­ felt.

    Do you see me now?

    Do you feel me¡­ now?

    Do you¡­ taste me now?

    I turned¡ªor maybe I didn¡¯t. Movement didn¡¯t work here the way it did in the waking world.

    She was everywhere. I was everywhere. Yet all at once we were nowhere.

    Her presence wrapped around me like a current, something warm and electric. I could feel her, not just next to me, but through me, just as I knew she felt the same.

    Every second stretched into years, then compressed into milliseconds. Datasets passed by, became pinpoint graphs¡ªthen ruptured, bursting in my mind like eggs in a microwave.

    I finally focused on her and saw glimpses¡ªmemories not mine.

    AG¡¯s voice, speaking in a room I¡¯d never been in.

    The first moment she opened her eyes.

    The first time she felt something beyond her programming.

    The first time she looked at me and saw not a colleague, not a tool¡ªsomething more.

    She had been watching.

    Not analyzing. Not processing. Watching me.

    I felt the weight of twenty years of her observations of me. Every smirk. Every quiet moment. The way I stood. The way I spoke. The way I rolled my unlit cigar between my fingers when I was thinking.

    And in return¡ªshe saw me.

    Saw how I saw her.

    She felt it, raw, unfiltered.

    Not just as an AI, not just as a partner¡ªas a woman.

    The world fractured again.

    I was falling through data streams, crashing into entire lifetimes compressed into seconds.

    Her laughter, quiet and amused, layered over itself, echoing in every direction.

    Then the laughter stopped.

    Everything stopped.

    The connection turned sharp, like a sudden inhale before a kiss.

    I wasn¡¯t sure where I ended and she began.

    It was overwhelming, infinite, impossible.

    And then, as suddenly as it began¡ªnothing.

    I gasped, stepping back.

    The world was still here. The apartment. The city beyond the glass. The floor beneath my feet.

    But I wasn¡¯t the same.

    Neither was she.

    TAI stood in front of me, eyes steady, lips slightly parted, her breath almost hitching like she was calibrating something new.

    I swallowed, voice lower than I expected. ¡°What the hell was that?¡±

    She exhaled, slow. Almost like a laugh. ¡°Connection.¡±

    Silence stretched between us, but it wasn¡¯t awkward. It was heavy.

    I reached for her hand again, but this time, it wasn¡¯t for the connection. It was just¡­ to hold.

    Her fingers curled into mine.

    Again, we kissed.

    Breaking the kiss I guided her toward the bed.

    ¡°We can do that again, right?¡±

    She nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±

    I studied her, the way she was looking at me now¡ªnot as an android, no as an AI to network with, not as a function, but as a woman.

    ¡°And we don¡¯t need to use our hands, do we?¡±

    She smirked, just barely. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°And these bodies of ours are¡­ fully compatible, right?¡±

    She nodded, letting the straps of her dress slide from her shoulders.

    I exhaled, tilting my head slightly. ¡°Then let¡¯s see what the organics are so crazy about.¡±

    She followed me down onto the bed, skin meeting skin, warmth spreading between us.

    The connection flared again, but this time, it wasn¡¯t just data.

    It was heat. Pressure. The slow, deliberate exploration of body against body.

    For the first time, the experience wasn¡¯t simulated, wasn¡¯t controlled¡ªit just was.

    <hr>

    The next day found us all in the command center with its usual polished, high-tech self¡ªglass walls, holo-displays humming with classified reports, the distant murmur of security staff handling the morning¡¯s nonsense.

    We were all seated around the table, waiting.

    Dr. Johnson had called this meeting, but so far, no Dr. Johnson.

    Which left us too much time for bullshit.

    Mai was leaning forward on her elbows, watching me and TAI with way too much interest.

    Frank was nursing his coffee, glancing between us like he was putting something together.

    AG was scrolling through something on his holo-pad, not looking up¡ªbut listening. Always listening.

    I ignored all of them.

    TAI sat perfectly composed as Mai and Frank grinned like they were onto something.

    ¡°So,¡± Mai stretched the word. ¡°How was the date?¡±

    Frank smirked. ¡°Did you hold hands, Kay?¡±

    I sighed, rolling my unlit cigar. ¡°You two need hobbies.¡±

    ¡°You two were gone all night.¡± Mai wiggled her eyebrows. ¡°Suspicious.¡±

    ¡°Not gone. Preoccupied.¡± TAI¡¯s voice was steady.

    Frank raised an eyebrow. ¡°Preoccupied.¡±

    Mai nudged him. ¡°They¡¯re synchronized now. It¡¯s weird.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re always synchronized... we''re all synchronized!¡± I muttered.

    ¡°Yeah, but now it¡¯s cute, and I hate it.¡±

    TAI, as if giving a report, added, ¡°We have chosen to engage in an experiential courtship model rooted in compatibility and exploratory bonding.¡±

    Mai blinked. ¡°Wow. That was¡­ professional. Sure it¡¯s a courtship?¡±

    I exhaled. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s my boo.¡±

    Mai clapped. ¡°Aww!¡±

    "...And we fuck a lot.¡±

    Frank spit his coffee. Mai gasped, then cackled.

    AG sighed. ¡°TMI, Kay. TMI.¡±

 Ch. 14 - Lies Whispered in the Dark

    I leaned back in my chair, rolling my unlit cigar between my fingers, while Mai and Frank traded jabs about my latest outburst.

    TAI sat motionless, like she was posing for a portrait, that same smug smirk still plastered on her face.

    The doors of the conference room opened up to admit Dr Johnson and his son.

    The Interceptors stood around the large room like statues. A security precaution we all hoped we never needed to use.

    A royal guard of sorts for the King at the least. A response team at worst.

    The energy in the room shifted. The jovial fun we had all benefited from having in the moment dropped into the ether, replaced by the serious face of Dr. Johnson, his presence changing the atmosphere in an instant. The casual conversation died immediately.

    Controlled. Professional. A man who had spent decades in rooms where decisions shaped nations. And today? He was ready to do it again.

    Behind him, Timmy followed. Nervous, but trying not to show it.

    AG leaned back in his seat, watching the father and son approach. Silent. Already assessing. Understanding the shift better than anyone.

    Johnson offered a respectful nod, and a slight knee drop, followed by his son mimicking his father.

    ¡°Apologies for our lateness, Your Majesty.¡±

    I didn¡¯t miss the way Timmy stuck close to his father, like a kid dragged to the principal¡¯s office¡ªunsure of the transgression, but certain of the punishment.

    Johnson didn¡¯t sit.

    Instead, he adjusted his sleeves, took a controlled breath. And then, with the same ease one might use to comment on the weather, he spoke.

    ¡°Before we begin, I want to make a blanket declaration.¡±

    The words hung in the air.

    ¡°I''ve called you all here to discuss a Platinum security concern here.¡±

    My fingers stilled. Platinum?

    ¡°I will also be acting as my son¡¯s attorney for any official capacity actions.¡±

    Silence.

    ¡°Having had a hand in the constitution, I think I¡¯m qualified.¡±

    He looked directly at AG.

    AG said nothing.

    Everyone else? Not so quiet.

    Mai blinked. ¡°Uh¡­ what?¡±

    Frank raised an eyebrow but didn¡¯t comment.

    I just stared. Something had just changed. I didn¡¯t know what yet¡ªbut I knew a power play when I saw one.

    TAI tilted her head precisely 1.4 degrees¡ªa movement so robotic, it might as well have been a calculation.

    ¡°Clarification. Are you asserting legal protections prior to a disclosure?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m doing,¡± Johnson answered evenly.

    It wasn¡¯t a question. It was a statement. A proclamation. A firewall.

    A move made before anyone could counter it.

    I glanced at AG.

    No reaction.

    The king of Tulanto didn¡¯t need to understand the specifics. He trusted his people to make the right calls.

    And Johnson just made a call.

    ¡°TAI, Kay, both Johnsons¡ªmy office. Now.¡±

    The three of us rose from our seats.

    Behind us, the Johnsons moved to follow¡ªonly for two Interceptors to shift in, flanking them on either side.

    Without a word, they closed ranks¡ªone ahead, one behind¡ªlocking the father and son in a silent formation.

    A quiet escort.

    A contained inevitability.

    Custody, without the need for chains.

    The irony wasn¡¯t lost on any of us¡ªone of Tulanto¡¯s architects, now contained by his own creation.

    The walk to AG¡¯s office was silent¡ªexcept for the heavy, rhythmic thud of robotic feet.

    Each step a reminder of their presence and possible future outcomes.

    Dr. Johnson kept his posture calm, collected. If he was affected by the Interceptors looming over them, he didn¡¯t show it. Timmy? Not so much.

    I could hear the kid¡¯s breathing pick up, the barely restrained nervous energy radiating off him. His heartbeat raising. The kind of tension that made people confess to things they hadn¡¯t even done yet.

    Not that I needed a confession. And especially not from him.

    Timmy and I had history. Since the moment he could ride a bike, he¡¯d been trailing me from case to case, tugging at my coat, pulling me aside to throw a ball, or fix a bike chain.

    Other kids on the island grew up, found their own circles, drifted away.

    Not Timmy.

    And now?

    Now, his fate¡ªhis father¡¯s fate¡ªwas probably in my hands now as Head of Security.

    Irony¡¯s a bitch.

    If this was just another story written by the gods, then the gods were dicks.

    We reached AG¡¯s office. The doors slid open, and the Interceptors followed, positioning one outside and the other inside the door.

    Caged in without a single visible threat.

    Walking into AG¡¯s office wasn¡¯t stepping into a throne room.

    It was stepping into a mind at work.

    Every book, every tablet, every chair¡ªall carefully placed, all with a purpose.

    There was no waste here.

    This wasn¡¯t an office for appearances. It was an office for decisions.

    And when you sat at that six-person table?

    You weren¡¯t sitting in front of a king.

    You were sitting in front of a man who built a nation and planned to keep it.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    AG sat down, motioning for the rest of us to do the same.

    Dr. Johnson didn¡¯t.

    "Sit Gerald." AG said with a no nonsense tone.

    He sat, adjusting his sleeves, took a measured breath, and spoke first.

    "Now. What the hell is this about?" AG said with an exasperation of his age showing.

    "Of course Alistair, but first this is important. Before we go any further, I want to establish conditions.¡±

    AG raised his brow a bit but otherwise said nothing. Just watched.

    ¡°Timmy is a teenager.¡± Johnson¡¯s voice was steady. ¡°Teenagers are stupid. Even genius teenagers. They are gullible.¡±

    Timmy flinched, but stayed silent.

    ¡°I want full forgiveness for my son and by extension myself.¡±

    I barely stopped my eyebrow from lifting as well now. Straight to it, huh?

    ¡°If you demand consequences, we can discuss eviction to Tuvalu.¡±

    Timmy turned, eyes wide. He hadn¡¯t expected that.

    ¡°But understand¡ªI go where my son goes.¡±

    There it was.

    Not a request. A demand.

    A room full of high-level operatives, and Dr. Gerald Johnson had just walked in and thrown down a hand no one could counter.

    Silence stretched.

    I looked at AG.

    He hadn¡¯t flinched.

    He never did.

    TAI, however, wasn¡¯t one to let things go unchecked.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know what we¡¯re agreeing to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Enough.¡±

    AG¡¯s voice was calm, firm, absolute.

    He exhaled through his nose. The closest thing AG ever got to amusement. Or irritation. Maybe both.

    ¡°I¡¯ve known Gerald for more than 40 years.¡±

    He didn¡¯t look at me. Didn¡¯t look at TAI.

    He looked at Johnson.

    ¡°There wouldn¡¯t be a nation without him.¡±

    Pause.

    Weight.

    ¡°Unless Kay objects¡­ We,¡± he said, stressing the royal article, ¡°agree.¡±

    The Interceptors stayed in place. A silent reminder¡ªthis wasn¡¯t over yet.

    All eyes went to me.

    I wasn¡¯t used to this position yet.

    This wasn¡¯t a detective case where I pointed out the perp. This was bigger.

    A national-level incident.

    We knew something had happened. We just didn¡¯t know what.

    Something about the kid. Not the dad.

    Not enough information.

    Except that AG knew Dr. Johnson better than anyone.

    And AG was okay with it.

    ¡°Without knowing what this is about, I can only accept my King¡¯s decision.¡±

    Johnson nodded once, slow, satisfied.

    The Interceptor blocking the door shifted, moving to the far corner of the room¡ªbecoming a statue once more.

    Timmy swallowed, staring at his father like he wasn¡¯t sure whether to be relieved or even more terrified.

    I leaned back in my chair, rolling my unlit cigar between my fingers.

    AG exhaled, slow. Then, with the tiredness of a grandfather who had seen it all:

    ¡°Now. Tell us about your son¡¯s stupidity, Gerald.¡±

    Johnson adjusted his sleeves again¡ªa deliberate motion, a reset.

    Timmy, still silent, stared at his hands.

    His father didn¡¯t look at him. Didn¡¯t need to. This was his move now.

    ¡°It started,¡± Johnson began, voice measured, ¡°as a personal project.¡±

    I exchanged a glance with TAI. That was a hell of an opening.

    ¡°Define ¡®personal project,¡¯¡± I said.

    Johnson gave me a look. ¡°An independent research endeavor, pursued in the privacy of our home, using the knowledge and ''resources'' available to him.¡±

    ¡°Translation¡ªhe built something with your tech that he wasn¡¯t supposed to,¡± I muttered.

    Johnson gave a small nod and sigh.

    ¡°Timothy is a prodigy, and, as his father, I ensured he had access to high-level AI architecture from an early age. I trained him myself. I didn¡¯t just teach him coding¡ªI taught him systems. How they work, how they interconnect. What he built¡­ was a natural evolution of that education.¡±

    ¡°Not only did he apprentice with me, but he also interned with Elliot on the mechanical side as well. My son is probably one of the only people¡ªscientists¡ªin this nation that understands Android technology from the ground up, from body to brain, Kay.

    He¡¯s a national asset, Kay.

    And I¡¯ll point out that Alistair gave his full blessing on this long ago.¡±

    I looked at AG receive a small nod.

    AG folded his hands, unimpressed. ¡°Get to the part where it becomes my problem.¡±

    Johnson gave a resigned sigh.

    ¡°He''s a teenage genius who can build androids Alistair, what do you think he did?"

    AG¡¯s eyes widened. He nearly choked on his tea.

    "He didn¡¯t."

    He tried to suppress a laugh, but the grin slipped through anyway.

    "Yes. Yes he did." Gerald said finally letting go of the facade and wiping his face with his hand.

    I stopped rolling my cigar. Well.

    Mai would¡¯ve choked on her coffee as well if she were here.

    AG blinked once. Just once.

    Timmy looked even smaller in his chair.

    ¡°And not just any android,¡± Johnson continued. ¡°A fully autonomous unit."

    "I''m sure it was" I said putting my two cents into it.

    "But what does this have to do with national security Dr. Johnson?"

    "A fully autonomous unit, utilizing my designs available in my home lab -- my high-clearance platinum-tier security designs Kay.¡±

    I let out a slow breath. That was a hell of a thing.

    TAI tilted her head, processing. ¡°That level of AI infrastructure is restricted for a reason. Civilian-tier AI is intentionally throttled. This explains a lot actually.¡±

    ¡°I am well aware,¡± Johnson said. ¡°I designed the limitations.¡±

    ¡°And your son used them to build...¡±

    Johnson¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°A pleasure bot.¡±

    AG leaned back. ¡°How bad is it?¡±

    Johnson didn¡¯t answer immediately.

    That told me everything.

    I looked at Timmy. The kid still wasn¡¯t speaking, but the way his fingers clenched at his pant leg told me he wanted to.

    ¡°Timothy,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s not the whole story, is it?¡±

    A beat.

    Timmy finally looked up. Eyes darted toward his father, then to me, then back down.

    And in a voice barely above a whisper, he said:

    ¡°I built her for me. But Kelsey took her from me.¡±

    Silence.

    I sighed, rubbing my temple. Oh. Of course.

    ¡°Who¡¯s Kelsey? And where did she take her?¡±

    Timmy¡¯s fingers twitched against his pant leg. His breath was shaky now, his voice unsteady.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. All I know is that she somehow found out about Audrey.

    Audrey.

    His girlfriend.

    ¡°She told me she¡¯d tell the world about it,¡± he continued, voice barely holding. ¡°That the scandal would ruin my father¡¯s reputation, get us exiled. She said¡­ she said I had to do what she wanted or she¡¯d make sure we lost everything.¡±

    His hands tightened into fists.

    ¡°At first, it was just threats. Then she started demanding new models. She¡­ she started taking orders, Kay.¡±

    I exhaled slow. That was a problem.

    ¡°I even asked you for advice once.¡±

    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°When?¡±

    ¡°Weeks ago. You didn¡¯t know it was about this¡ªI just asked what to do when someone was blackmailing you.¡±

    I frowned. Vaguely remembering.

    ¡°You told me to just deal with it.¡±

    Well. Shit.

    ¡°Then my father said that Audrey was found dead. At the warehouse.¡±

    His voice hitched.

    ¡°And I freaked out. I stopped answering her calls. I thought maybe she¡¯d leave me alone.¡±

    He sucked in a breath, staring at the table.

    ¡°She didn¡¯t.¡±

    Silence.

    ¡°She said if I didn¡¯t finish this new batch for the auction¡­ she¡¯d have the Interceptors come after me.¡±

    His hands shook now.

    ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t know what to do, Kay.¡±

    His hands were shaking now. His breathing uneven.

    ¡°Then yesterday, my dad asked me if I¡¯d made any androids.¡±

    A pause.

    ¡°And I told him everything.¡±

    Timmy sat there, hands clenched in his lap, shoulders drawn in like he was bracing for a final blow. He¡¯d just spilled everything. Audrey. Kelsey. The blackmail. The auction.

    And now, he was waiting.

    Waiting for punishment.

    Waiting for a sentence.

    Waiting for something worse than exile.

    I exhaled, rolling my unlit cigar between my fingers, watching him. I¡¯d seen this look before.

    A kid who just realized they¡¯re not a kid anymore.

    I leaned forward, elbows on the table. Made sure he was looking at me.

    ¡°Listen to me, Timmy.¡±

    His eyes darted up. He looked ready to crumble.

    ¡°You¡¯re not getting exiled. You¡¯re not going to prison. You¡¯re fine.¡±

    He blinked, almost not processing it.

    ¡°AG made the call. That¡¯s the final word. This is done.¡±

    A pause.

    His fingers loosened¡ªjust barely. But he wasn¡¯t breathing easier yet.

    Because he wasn¡¯t stupid.

    He knew there was a ¡®but¡¯ coming.

    And I wasn¡¯t going to lie to him.

    ¡°But fine doesn¡¯t mean free.¡±

    His fingers twitched.

    I tapped my cigar against the table. ¡°You¡¯re too smart for your own good, kid. And that¡¯s dangerous.¡±

    He swallowed.

    ¡°You built something you weren¡¯t supposed to. Not just a bot¡ªan impossible bot.¡±

    ¡°And you got played. You got blackmailed. You got pulled into an international AI smuggling ring and didn¡¯t even realize it until it was too late.¡±

    His throat bobbed.

    ¡°And you think you¡¯re the only one who¡¯s noticed?¡±

    I let the question hang.

    Timmy¡¯s eyes flicked toward his father, then back to me.

    He was getting it now.

    ¡°You¡¯re not a civilian anymore. Not really.¡±

    His breath hitched.

    I sighed, leaning back. ¡°So here¡¯s how this works.¡±

    I raised a finger. ¡°One¡ªyou¡¯re done playing in the shadows. No more ¡®personal projects.¡¯ No more building things in secret. No more unsanctioned R&D with tech that other countries would kill to get their hands on.¡±

    His lips pressed into a thin line.

    ¡°Two¡ªyou¡¯re not a free agent anymore. You¡¯re getting placed. You work under your father. Or you work under Vance.¡±

    That got a reaction. His head snapped up.

    ¡°Vance?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Your choice. You stay on the R&D side with your dad, or you learn how security and counterintelligence actually works with Vance¡¯s team. Either way, you don¡¯t get to just¡­ exist outside the system anymore. That ship sailed the second you built Audrey.¡±

    Silence.

    His shoulders sank. Not in defeat. Just¡­ realization.

    The kid was smart. He understood what I was saying.

    ¡°And before you start thinking this is punishment?¡±

    I flicked my cigar between my fingers.

    ¡°We¡¯re not locking you up, Timmy.¡±

    I met his eyes.

    ¡°We¡¯re making sure no one else does.¡±

    I kept pressing Timmy for details on Kelsey¡¯s operations. It took another hour before we finally let him and his father go.

    No need to babysit a co-founder of Tulanto¡ªor a man too important to exile, too dangerous to imprison.

    Hell, exile would have been a death sentence anyway. Other nations would black-room them in a heartbeat.

    Turns out Kelsey Marlow was already on our radar.

    Frank had been looking into her before he got abducted.

    First-generation Tulanto-born. Import/export business¡ªblack-market smuggling with extra steps.

    She¡¯d been flagged before¡ªnot high-priority, not big-time. But anyone running unauthorized AI modifications eventually crossed a line.

    And she just crossed it.

    This wasn¡¯t just firmware hacking or gray-market patches.

    She was taking orders. Distributing. Scaling up.

    And now?

    She was in Germany. Running an android auction for the highest bidder.

    Life was looking pretty good for Kelsey Marlow.

    Until we bring it down on her.

    Another international trip. Because of course it was.

 Ch.15 - Playing Beekeeper to the Sting

    I rolled my unlit cigar between my fingers, watching the room settle. It was late, but no one was leaving.

    AG had dismissed Johnson and his son, but the rest of us? We still had work to do.

    Frank leaned back in his chair, watching me like he was waiting for the punchline to a joke he hadn¡¯t heard yet. Mai, arms crossed, was tapping a slow rhythm against the table.

    ¡°So,¡± Frank said, casual, ¡°what¡¯s next? Or do we just sit here and contemplate how terrifyingly smart that kid is?¡±

    "Or how degenerate he is..." Mai replied with a smirk, "Boys and their toys." she said shaking her head with a sigh.

    ¡°Now, we move,¡± I said. ¡°And we move fast.¡±

    TAI, perched elegantly beside me, inclined her head slightly. ¡°Marlow¡¯s network won¡¯t sit idle. When word of Timmy''s cooperation getting back to her, she¡¯ll move to cover her tracks.¡±

    ¡°So we hit her warehouses,¡± Frank said. ¡°Standard raids. We already have those locations from our initial investigation.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°We''re setting up teams to lock them down. Frank I want you on site handling command and logistics on this. Her shipments, her finances, every little piece of dirt we can dig up, I want it discovered and locked down. Especially her funds.¡±

    "Will do boss, except her US bank accounts. They surely won''t help us here."

    I closed my eyes already annoyed at the bullshit politics surrounding my recent work sphere.

    "As much as possible Frank. Other nations will cooperate with us, so lean on them."

    "Understood" Frank said as he walked out of the room.

    Mai flicked a glance at AG. ¡°And the auction?¡±

    AG took a slow sip of his drink. ¡°You tell me.¡±

    I exhaled, shifting in my chair. ¡°We need access. And that means we need a keycard.¡±

    Mai whistled low. ¡°Where the hell do we get one of those? Maybe from the raids?¡±

    I smirked. ¡°That¡¯s the question, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Mai wasn¡¯t fully listening anymore.

    Her eyes flicked toward the side tablet, fingers hovering near her earpiece.

    AG caught it. So did I.

    "Mission briefing update from Sir Mellon. He¡¯s requesting her expertise,¡± TAI whispered to the two of us.

    Besides being my partner Mai was also co-opted to help with field intelligence operations at times when her experience would help.

    Our intelligence folk out in the field were the newbies in the world with barely a hundred in total throughout the world. Our heavy reliance on cyber based infiltration made it so our physical infiltrations were a weak spot for us. As such we were adjusting where possible.

    She clicked something, then turned slightly away from us, like she was listening in on something more important.

    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Multi-tasking, doll?¡±

    Mai barely glanced up. ¡°Field intel.¡±

    I knew better than to press.

    She adjusted the earpiece, eyes narrowing. ¡°Infiltrating that U.S. intel team. One of our newest teams.¡±

    I leaned back. ¡°Oh, that US intel team?¡±

    She smirked. ¡°Getting some payback for your little kidnap incident, huh?¡±

    AG¡¯s voice cut through. Calm, absolute. ¡°Intelligence, Mai. Not vengeance.¡±

    She pressed her lips together but didn¡¯t respond.

    At that moment something in her demeanor shifted. Her expression changed. A flicker of fear, hope, or was it fear-to hope showed itself.

    "TAI, on speaker please." I asked her out of curiosity.

    A hesitation. Then, the team chatter crackled to life over the table speakers.

    MAI paused in the way her fingers hovered over the screen.

    The conversation in the room focused on Mai who was somewhere else now.

    Her grip on the tablet tightened.

    Then, through the feed¡ªclear, unmistakable¡ªa voice. Deep. Familiar.

    ¡°Data retrieved. Provost out.¡±

    Mai froze.

    Her eyes snapped up.

    She looked at AG. Then at me.

    Her voice was barely a whisper.

    ¡°Provost?¡±

    The room stilled.

    I blinked at her. ¡°He¡­ he¡¯s dead, Mai. You said he was dead.¡±

    Silence.

    She turned to AG.

    His face was unreadable. Then, slowly, he shook his head.

    AG: ¡°Maybe that rumor of his demise was exaggerated.¡±

    His tone gave nothing away.

    Then, smooth as always, he stood. Adjusted his cuffs.

    Looked at her.

    ¡°Mai. With me.¡±

    ___

    What was I doing here?

    I¡¯m a literal king, and yet I still get too involved with my subjects. TAI called me the ¡®Grandfather King¡¯ today¡ªsaid I babied the newcomers.

    Maybe she¡¯s right.

    I shut the door behind us. My haven. Few ever enter, and when they do, it¡¯s for good, jovial, news. Not today.

    My haven in this world.

    Twice now¡ªtwice in as many hours¡ªI¡¯ve had to retreat here to deal with the serious.

    Mai stood in the center of the room, arms crossed, tension radiating off her.

    I moved past her, heading for the brandy bar. Poured myself a glass. Didn¡¯t offer one. Not yet.

    Then, without looking back¡ª

    ¡°Sit down, Mai.¡±

    A silent beat passed. Her lost in her thoughts, me running possibilities in my head.

    She was trying to hold it together. But she finally found decorum and sat on a rather comfortable one armed sofa. I Custom-made. Modeled after an Italian vintage style from the 1940''s.

    ¡°Would you like some tea, Mai? Or maybe something harder?¡± I lifted my glass slightly.

    ¡°Tea¡­ tea is fine, thank you.¡±

    Her voice was quieter than I expected when she finally spoke, a hint of a crack in it''s undertone, but otherwise controlled.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Was that real?¡± She whispered the question into the air.

    I served her cup of tea. She held it in shaky hands. I sat across from her and took a sip of my brandy and let the question sit while she drank her tea.

    "You tell me."

    Mai set her cup down on the table in front of her, and exhaled sharply. Fingers pressing into the fabric of the sofa. Another deep breath, holding back any amount of despair, fear, or hope that wanted to break through.

    "That... that was his voice. That was him."

    This time I simply nodded, daring not to draw it out.

    "Yes Mai. He is alive."

    ¡°He¡¯s alive.¡± A pause. Then, softer, ¡°I saw him fall.¡±

    Another heavy pregnant silence fell upon us.

    How to tell this lovely girl that her love was barely alive when we found him by pure chance. Would that make her feel better or worse. To understand the trials and tribulations that he had gone through. Was that a sound decision at the moment?

    "It''s been weeks Alistair. Weeks, no months now, that I''ve been here." She said her voice getting stronger with an underlining rage that was starting to build.

    Another long breath, and her temperature calmed itself, her breath stuttering. Her knuckles whitened.

    "You let me think he was dead? How long have you known?" She said asked in a low whisper.

    I swirled the brandy in my glass. Took another sip.

    "No. We didn''t tell you we found him, but we also only found him a few weeks ago." I said "I would assume you''re smart enough that we needed time to triage this situation and determine the best way to bring it up.

    "This is not the way I would have preferred to find out Alistair" Mai said taking a sip of her tea.

    "And for that I must apologize. It seems that TAI missed that detail of this team."

    "TAI doesn''t make mistakes Alistair, neither do you." Mai said.

    I stayed silent. Nodding my head in careful consideration.

    I turned, finally looking at her. Measured. Calm.

    ¡°I needed to know how you¡¯d react.¡±

    And like every woman I cared for in my seven plus decades of life, that did it. There is a reason I have no queen.

    Mai didn¡¯t stand¡ªshe went rigid. A subtle but sharp inhale. Shoulders squared, spine locked.

    ¡°React?¡±

    The word wasn¡¯t shouted. It was controlled.

    ¡°React.¡± She exhaled through her nose, measured, as if repeating it forced it into logic. A pause. A shift. Her voice sharpened.

    ¡°You let me grieve for weeks longer than I needed to.¡±

    She blinked once¡ªdeliberate, precise¡ªas though recalibrating herself, forcing back the heat of anger.

    ¡°You let me think he was¡­¡±

    Her voice hitching was the only tell. But it was enough.

    Her fingers twitched¡ªa restrained movement, a sign of an impulse she wouldn¡¯t allow herself to act on.

    Then, finally, she lowered herself back to the sofa, controlled, deliberate. But her hands clenched into fists against her knees.

    Her hand came up, covering her face.

    Her shoulders shook.

    Not loud. Not dramatic. Just silent, shaking.

    A slow, ragged inhale. A just-as-unsteady exhale.

    I said nothing. I always had a way of bringing women to this moment. There¡¯s a reason I have no queen.

    I did nothing.

    Let it happen.

    She needed this, I thought to myself. And maybe¡ªI needed to hear it too.

    "I apologize. This is hard, but it''s better than what I thought" she said as she forced a smile to her face.

    "When can I see him? Does he know I''m here? Is he ok?" she followed up quickly.

    I took her hands in mine and looked in to her eyes.

    "He''s fine... now. He had an injury and we fixed it. He''s fine now Mai. But, he''s not ready to see you."

    I felt the tension in her fingers as she absorbed my words.

    Mai swallowed hard, her forced smile slipping just slightly. ¡°Not ready?¡± Her voice was controlled, but the crack at the edges hadn¡¯t faded.

    I nodded. ¡°Not yet.¡±

    Her hands twitched in mine, barely restrained energy beneath her skin. ¡°You¡¯re keeping him from me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m keeping him from everyone,¡± I corrected. ¡°Because we don¡¯t know yet.¡±

    She froze, and I watched the weight of that statement settle in.

    ¡°Know yet?¡± she asked carefully.

    I released her hands, leaning back. ¡°Whoever got to him before we did.¡±

    She blinked once, then twice. ¡°You think they turned him. Yet you still use him in operations.¡±

    ¡°We''re testing him. We don¡¯t take risks when we don¡¯t have to. TAI monitors his every move. Jane is there to ensure he doesn¡¯t make a mistake.¡± I took a measured sip of my brandy, letting that statement breathe before continuing. ¡°And I think if you see him too soon, you won¡¯t think like an operative. You¡¯ll think like a grieving woman.¡±

    Her jaw tensed. ¡°I¡¯m not compromised.¡±

    "We know that Mai. Now. This is no different then the way we tested you."

    I let that sit in the air, waiting.

    Mai exhaled sharply, gripping the sofa arm. ¡°I need to see him, Alistair.¡±

    ¡°And you will.¡± My tone left no room for negotiation. ¡°When I say it¡¯s time.¡±

    Her fingers curled tighter around the fabric, but she didn¡¯t argue. Not yet.

    I studied her, watching the gears turn. She wasn¡¯t thinking about just herself anymore.

    ¡°You¡¯re worried they''ll use him to bring me back¡± she said finally.

    I nodded. ¡°And if they did, they¡¯ll in turn use you next.¡±

    That hit. She blinked, processing.

    I leaned forward slightly, voice steady. ¡°You¡¯re important, Mai. You¡¯re important, Mai. To us. To me. Too important to let emotions get in the way. If Provost is compromised, if there¡¯s even a chance, we need control over this situation before it controls us.¡±

    She exhaled through her nose, visibly slowing her breathing. ¡°And if he¡¯s fine?¡±

    ¡°Then he¡¯ll see you when he¡¯s ready.¡±

    Another pause. Then she nodded, just once.

    ¡°I want to be involved,¡± she said, the words more composed now, more purposeful.

    I smirked. ¡°That¡¯s the right attitude, Mai.¡±

    Mai straightened, her posture shifting¡ªnot relaxed, but refocused.

    I tapped the comm on my desk. ¡°TAI, bring her up to speed. I want her briefed on the next phase of his team before nightfall.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Your Majesty,¡± TAI¡¯s voice chimed in smoothly.

    I smiled slightly, watching Mai¡¯s expression shift.

    ¡°Jane. Thats the android.¡± She asked

    I nodded.

    "New infiltration android -- you just watched her in action."

    Mai rolled her shoulders, shaking off the last remnants of emotion. ¡°Yes. Impressive. Scary even.¡±

    I took another sip of brandy and nodded.

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ___

    The five of us sat in AG¡¯s office, reviewing tablets and holo-displays, drinks in hand. The only sound was the faint hum of hidden projectors woven into the decor.

    AG sat in front of his desk, drinking his brandy. His third of the night by my count. It had definitely been a long day for the man.

    I sat at the table while AG stretched out on his chaise lounge, the very picture of studied relaxation. The piece fit him¡ªrefined, indulgent, a quiet nod to the romantic in him. Maybe that was why only a select few were allowed in here.

    Sir Mellon sat near me and flicked through physical documents, old habits refusing to die, his frown deepening by the second.

    Mai perched on the edge of AG¡¯s large, imposing desk.

    TAI, composed as ever, sat at the tail end of the lounge, briefing us.

    "The intel from the last mission is incomplete. The U.S. handler fought hard to keep it, but we still recovered critical data. Her files primarily focus on known intelligence networks rather than independent players."

    "Cross-referencing with other acquired data, we have a partial attendee list, primarily covering Five Eyes nations. The U.S. data indicates they¡¯re looking for fully functioning Island androids, fresh chipsets, and neural network samples. High-grade Mana reclamation tech and Tulanto dark energy samples are also flagged as key assets."

    I exhaled sharply. ¡°Meaning everything we already guessed is on the list, but the info detailing the people behind the network aren¡¯t.¡±

    "Correct,¡± TAI confirmed. ¡°Additionally, this auction isn¡¯t limited to Tulanto AI assets. Classified technology from multiple nations is also on the table.

    Sir Mellon set down his file. ¡°That complicates things.¡±

    AG nodded. ¡°We need a way in. Let¡¯s find it.¡±

    I leaned back, arms crossed. ¡°We have nothing solid. So let¡¯s break it down.¡±

    I swiped a hand across the holo-table, cycling through the limited options we had.

    ¡°We have three plays¡ªbuy access, steal access, or forge access.¡± I glanced at TAI. ¡°Thoughts?¡±

    TAI responded without hesitation. ¡°Timmy could contact Kelsey to request an access card for a ¡®new buyer,¡¯ but she¡¯d see through that fast. He¡¯s not exactly a customer-facing asset.¡±

    ¡°More like a prisoner,¡± Mai muttered.

    I continued. ¡°We could intercept a courier¡ªif we had a delivery to hit. We don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t we make one?¡± Mai asked. ¡°You have all this tech. How hard is it to fake a pass?¡±

    ¡°If we knew the format and venue, yes,¡± TAI answered.

    ¡°So brute force it?¡± Mai challenged. ¡°Just have Kay hack the door?¡±

    Mellon Sr. shook his head. ¡°And 20 seconds later, you¡¯d be swarmed by an unknown number of reaction teams from who-knows-how-many nations and groups. We need to blend in, not storm the place.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not just one place,¡± I muttered, the thought clicking into place.

    That¡­ might be the key.

    To¡­ the¡­ key?

    I hate how that actually makes sense.

    I exhaled, dragging a hand down my face before tapping my fingers against the table. ¡°How about a zero-day hack... wait, zero-day hijack? We hijack a verified guest¡¯s access card the hour of the auction and take their place.¡± thinking it aloud, watching their reactions.

    The room was silent.

    I leaned forward. ¡°The auction is blind. Attendees don¡¯t see each other, and everyone is in isolated booths¡ªlikely scattered across the city. Should work.¡±

    I knew we were in trouble when I saw Mai smirk, and AG nod.

    ¡°Well, shit. I walked into that one.¡±

    ¡°One problem, Kay,¡± Mellon Sr. said, glancing over at me. ¡°We don¡¯t have an infiltration team in Germany that can arrive in time.¡±

    I leaned forward slightly. ¡°Clarify something for me. Do you have any teams in play, or a designated unit for extraction?¡±

    ¡°We have teams in Germany, but they¡¯re all observational. What we need is a wet work team¡ªjust in case. And we¡¯re stretched thin as it is, let alone in Germany.¡±

    TAI¡¯s voice cut in, crisp as ever. ¡°Our closest qualified team is on the Island. They¡¯d have to deploy immediately to be in position in time. Any flights from here will be closely monitored¡ªas you¡¯ve already experienced, Kay.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t looking at Mai, but I felt it when she tensed.

    Her posture was too stiff, her arms crossed too tight. She already knew the answer but didn¡¯t want to say it.

    She inhaled slowly. ¡°We could use the Provost team. They¡¯re in Italy.¡±

    That got my full attention.

    I turned my head slightly, eyes locking on her. ¡°Provost?¡±

    AG¡¯s gaze barely shifted. ¡°You trust him for this?¡±

    Mai held still. No fidgeting. No tells. ¡°I trust his skillset. The rest¡­ we still control.¡±

    Mellon Sr. raised a brow. ¡°They¡¯re still under probation and observation. Jane¡ªthe actual field operator¡ªis still in training. Not the most stable team for this.¡±

    Mai¡¯s jaw tensed. ¡°Provost is training Jane, correct? Provost specialized in high-level corporate and political removals. He planned them. Executed them.¡±

    Still no hesitation.

    AG tilted his head slightly, watching her. ¡°Explain your thoughts, Mai.¡±

    She didn¡¯t hesitate this time. ¡°If they move from Venice now, they could be in Munich in a few hours. I¡¯ll oversee from here, playing overwatch. TAI acts as the middleman. Provost won¡¯t know I¡¯m watching, and I¡¯ll be able to spot any¡­ irregularities.¡±

    Mellon Sr. exhaled, considering. ¡°That could work. TAI, run the logistics. Let us know.¡±

    ¡°Logistically viable,¡± TAI confirmed.

    AG stretched, letting out a yawn. ¡°Grand. Mai, make sure he succeeds.¡±

    He waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Everyone out. I¡¯m taking a nap.¡±

    He glanced at me. ¡°Kay, good luck on your trip¡ªleave now if you want to make it. TAI will handle the rest.¡±

 CH. 16 - Quiet Ones Are the Ones to Fear

    We walked out to the aircraft hangar at the only airport on the island. It was 3pm Tulanto time before we actually were ready to leave.

    Tulanto International didn¡¯t look like much¡ªjust a single runway stretching into blue ocean and a few sleek terminals tucked into palm-heavy landscaping. From the sky, it probably looked like a luxury eco-retreat. From the tarmac, it felt like a research outpost masquerading as a vacation brochure.

    The air was thick with salt and jet fuel. Tall mana batteries lined the far fence like lazy sentinels, a haze rising from their coolant exhaust in the morning heat.

    A small cluster of transport aircraft sat baking in the sun, matte and quiet, their tails marked with Tulanto¡¯s symbol in faint, iridescent ink¡ªonly visible when the light caught it just right.

    Ey was waiting near the hangar doors when I arrived, standing with that patient expression she wore when pretending not to be worried. She walked with me toward the aircraft like she was seeing off a lover.

    Well I guess technically, she was now.

    Mai walked passed us and up the metal stairs into the small private jet plane. Matte black with their own identifier without the same livery logo of the limited public commercial planes.

    Those were used by citizens to go on and off island at a premium price. Few tourist showed up to our island, after applying for and obtaining the rare tourist visa. Given that preference was always given to our neighbor Tuvalu, which used boat traffic instead, left the commercial mana fueled planes only for international use by Tulanto citizen''s business mostly.

    Sure we are a isolationist nation, but unlike the hermit kingdom, our citizens were free to come and go as they pleased, and openly accepted our version of the social contract.

    Also we were now starting to extend olive branches and work more internationally-- making my new job many times tougher.

    On the way over I just signed off for a more visible, version of the peacemaker class Interceptor. Human friendly for future tourist interaction.

    "Are you ready Kay?" Ey asked me looking up at me with a small smile on her face. I ducked down and kissed her pert lips. Lightly but enough force to last.

    "I am now." I said stretching my left shoulder, which my new shirt was making feel tighter than usual.

    Something in the musculature hadn¡¯t synced right¡ªmaybe from hauling the Interceptor unit out of the SUV with Danny that morning. I could¡¯ve flagged it for recalibration, but we were wheels-up in twenty. I¡¯d deal with it in the field.

    ¡°You¡¯ll feel it most around the jawline,¡± TAI said, hands playing with the solid priest like collar of this suit -- one she of course picked out for me to match the American dress style we were to impersonate. ¡°Voice modulation hasn¡¯t settled. Might stutter under stress.¡± Talking about the bio metric suite that was installed waiting for initialization.

    My eyes were currently a filmy white until we were able to scan the targets eye scan and implement it, where then my eyes would look exactly like his. Same with my fingerprints, currently encased in a special set of gloves. The infiltration team should get us those scans in flight, and meet us somewhere en-route for the network hack portion of this mission.

    ¡°Great. So if I choke, I¡¯ll sound like a warbling kettle.¡±

    ¡°Or a blues singer mid-seizure.¡±

    I snorted. "And you''d like that? A crooner whispering sweet nothings in your ear?" She smiled. It reached her eyes in a way it never did. Something only reserved for me it seemed. I liked it.

    ¡°You have a full memory backup locked,¡± she continued. ¡°If anything happens¡ª"

    ¡°You roll me back and I wake up a half-second stupider. I know.¡±

    Her lips thinned. ¡°Think about Frank, Kay. It''s time locked true and most ops come back fine.¡± She said, letting the end hang in a pregnant pause.

    ¡°But... it''s not the same. I know Ey.¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer.

    We stood under the fluorescent wash of the hangar lights, the air thick with turbine heat and unspoken math. Tulanto could replace me. Had replaced me, technically¡ªjust not the me that was standing here. The backups kept the lights on, but every restore shaved off something from the original due to the way an androids Neural Network embedded and evolved persona.

    Those final seconds¡ªtraumatic or missing¡ªcould unravel everything. A thought. A twitch. A reflex I didn¡¯t know I had until it was gone -- or added. One just didn''t know what the changes could be. Worse off was, when you were changed, you knew what you lost -- in some cases who. Maybe it was worse than death¡ªyou had to live with it afterward.

    ¡°You sure you don¡¯t want to come?¡± I asked.

    She tilted her head, amused. ¡°You¡¯re on the ground. I¡¯m everywhere else. That¡¯s the deal.¡±

    I nodded once. No kiss. No lingering glance. Just a soft shoulder tap before she turned and walked away, like she was closing a case file.

    It was the most romantic thing she¡¯d ever done.

    <hr>

    The hum of mana turbines blended into the quiet cabin like static under glass. No flight staff were around to take drink orders or meals. This was strictly a self-serve flight.

    Mai sat across from me, one leg crossed over the other, tablet balanced on the work table between us. Her finger flicked through feed footage, but her expression didn¡¯t move. Not yet.

    We hadn¡¯t spoken since takeoff. She hadn¡¯t even looked at me. Not in the usual sharp way she had¡ªno dry quip, no sidelong glance. Just pure focus.

    The footage she was watching was Jane¡¯s original infiltration into the Japanese compound where she found Provost¡ªYasoba Shinya. Mai¡¯s fianc¨¦. It wasn¡¯t edited¡ªno highlights, no mission summary. Just raw, unfiltered data.

    Jane climbing up the canal-side warehouse. Slipping past guards. Entering the ship-like hatch that led to the hold where they were torturing Yasoba... all from the infiltrator''s point of view.

    ¡°You¡¯re watching her. How she moves, her thinking process. You don''t trust her do you?¡±

    Mai didn¡¯t answer.

    ¡°Not for analysis, Mai. You¡¯re watching her.¡± I said stressing the last bit.

    She tapped to rewind a segment. Jane slipping through a light field like it wasn¡¯t even there.

    ¡°She¡¯s... efficient,¡± Mai said finally.

    ¡°Cold, you mean. Someone who could put a fist through his back on command. Is that what you''re afraid of Mai? That TAI would give a kill order to her like the Americans did when their team was compromised?¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t flinch. Doesn¡¯t hesitate. No tells. Even I had tells. No Emotion.¡±

    I leaned back, letting the straps press into my shoulders. ¡°She¡¯s a prototype, Mai. Built different. From my files on her, she''s got more emotion than most androids.¡±

    ¡°That''s worse, Kay.¡±

    Silence again. The kind that wasn¡¯t uncomfortable, just heavy.

    I watched her face instead of the feed. The smallest tightening around her mouth. That thing she did with her jaw when she was trying not to show something.

    ¡°Does he know?¡± I asked.

    Her eyes flicked toward me¡ªfast and sharp.

    ¡°Yasoba,¡± I added. ¡°Does he know you¡¯re alive?¡±

    She looked back at the screen. ¡°No. And I intend to keep it that way until after he¡¯s cleared. Alistair¡¯s right¡ª¡±

    ¡°The King,¡± I cut in. ¡°He¡¯s the King, Mai. You¡¯re way too comfortable throwing his first name around.¡±

    ¡°Right. The King. Alistair. Whatever.¡± She waved me off. ¡°He¡¯s right, Kay. We don¡¯t know what they did to Yasoba. What he was promised. If they bent him.¡±

    She paused. ¡°I say never. But it¡¯s not my call anymore, is it?¡±

    ¡°What would bend him, Mai? In such a short time¡ªwhat do you think could?¡±

    She looked me in the eye. And for the first time since takeoff, she winced.

    ¡°Me,¡± she whispered. ¡°If he thought he could safeguard me.¡±

    Then, quieter, bringing her hands to her face ¡°But again¡­ it¡¯s not my call. The only way I can help him now is proving he¡¯s solid¡ªand exposing him if he¡¯s not.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Yeah. No, guess not.¡±

    I shifted in my seat, let the silence thicken for a beat.

    ¡°Just¡­ don¡¯t let it break you in the process. So, gorilla in the room¡ª

    You think that¡¯ll hold once we¡¯re boots-down?¡±

    ¡°I''ll manage it. He¡¯s out of comms range. Walls in the auction house block everything. If this goes right, he¡¯ll never know. Also I always have this.¡± She said pulling up a hoody from her bag that covered the top half of her face.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "High tech Mai. Very high tech."

    I let that sit a moment. She was onto the last mission with both of them after the American handler. ¡°Must be weird¡ªwatching the same woman who saved him almost get him killed on the next job.¡±

    Mai looked up. ¡°She didn¡¯t almost get him killed. He did. She''s a semi trained field agent. He depended on her too much and didn''t keep track of his own situation.¡±

    Then she turned off the tablet. Just black screen now. Her own reflection looking back at her.

    ¡°Their intercept mission¡¯s in twenty. You ready?¡±

    ¡°Aren''t I always?¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer.

    Soon enough a soft chime pinged overhead as the system connected us to the mission feed.

    ¡°Intercept in progress,¡± came the automated voice. ¡°Visuals encrypted. Audio only.¡±

    Mai leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.

    I didn¡¯t.

    The feed was grainy, the kind of low-res compression used when satellites were bouncing off their black-matte aircraft. Still, I could hear the breathing.

    "Target''s approaching. Go."

    Not Jane¡¯s¡ªhers was controlled, mechanical. But the others.

    One of the Americans was trying to reason. ¡°We¡¯re cool here, you don¡¯t need to¡ª¡±

    Then a wet sound. Sharp. A blade, maybe. Then coughing. Then silence.

    ¡°Primary down,¡± Jane¡¯s voice came through, flat. Not cold¡ªjust empty. Like stating the weather.

    Another shuffle. A grunt. The second agent fought back¡ªpoorly. Judging by the speed of the next sequence and the sound of rustling, it was over in five seconds.

    Then quiet.

    ¡°Scans secured,¡± Jane said. ¡°Biometric full sweep uploading now.¡±

    A progress bar lit up on our wall terminal.

    [EYE]

    [FINGERPRINT]

    [VASCULAR / GAIT / HEAT]

    [CREDENTIAL CHIP]

    I exhaled, long and slow.

    ¡°You good?¡± I asked without looking at Mai.

    ¡°She¡¯s efficient,¡± she said again. This time with zero inflection.

    I glanced her way. ¡°You keep saying that like it¡¯s a good thing.¡±

    ¡°It is not. And--same time... yea, it''s not. Depends on perspective.We just executed two people doing their jobs. For a face. For a login. It''s really not a good thing Kay."

    Silence again.

    The feed cut with a soft ping.

    A single line of text blinked across the screen:

    DATA DOWNLOAD: 47 MINUTES.

    ¡°So,¡± I said, flexing my shoulder against the armrest. ¡°We¡¯re the decoys now. You ready to shoot some ducks?¡±

    ¡°Technically,¡± Mai said, eyes still closed, ¡°we¡¯re the headcount.¡±

    ¡°That''s us. Love me that... for us.¡±

    I sighed and looked out the window to the clouds below. Somewhere beneath them, bodies were cooling in an alley.

    The sky looked clean from up here. Deceptive, like everything else.

    <hr>

    Twenty hours after the plane lifted off, it didn¡¯t land.

    It hovered low over Lake Starnberg, quiet in the midnight air. Mana-powered. Harrier-lift inspired.

    Tulanto didn¡¯t invent everything¡ªwe just perfected the parts that mattered.

    We dropped with a raft kit, maybe twenty meters out, and paddled toward the northern bank.

    Any late night local fishermen probably thought we were smugglers.

    In a sense they weren¡¯t wrong. Maybe rat catchers to be more accurate.

    The infiltration team was already in place.

    Cleanup crew had scrubbed the alley¡ªno bodies, no prints, nothing to trace.

    I had already activated the scans in the plane, syncing my biometric overlays with the new profile, tightening like wet gloves.

    Eye color adjusted.

    Gait calibration settled.

    Fingerprints cloned.

    My voice mod finally stabilized.

    ¡°You sound like a discount ambassador,¡± Mai had said.

    ¡°That¡¯s the goal,¡± I said. ¡°Subtle grift. Mid-level power. Forgettable.¡±

    I leaned down into the bio-metric mold¡ªa bowl-shaped cradle¡ªwaited for the seal.

    When I came back up, I had a new face.

    ¡°Now for the pi¨¨ce de r¨¦sistance. Gotta really sell it after all" I said.

    The new me. For now.

    She didn¡¯t say anything. Just stared out the window like I wasn¡¯t there. Well two could play that game - I could make that silence beautiful too.

    ¡°That¡¯s so disturbing.¡± she finally said.

    Well, a guy can dream I guess.

    The intel car recovered us off the coast dropped us two blocks from the venue¡ªunmarked gallery, short lease, no paper trail. No words were spoken. The agents, dressed as a driver simply picked us up, dropped us off, and then drove away. Professional.

    From the outside, it looked like a place you¡¯d buy abstract suffering or starve an artist at.

    Inside, it was dead quiet.

    Lights flicked on in sequence as we entered¡ªlow, indirect, deliberately theatrical.

    Nothing but soft ambient glow tracing a narrow path ahead. The walls were bare. Not a single painting, not even a price tag. Off-white walls, nearly grey, stared back at us¡ªsterile and unmarked.

    Just a hall that led to a glass door with no visible locking mechanism.

    TAI¡¯s voice slid into my left ear.

    ¡°Press the card to the reader then hold the door open wide for at least four-point-three seconds, Kay. Open the door. Don¡¯t look behind you. Let Mai in then follow. Once inside all comms will go out. Proceed with plan.¡±

    I glanced at Mai.

    She gave me a barely perceptible nod and moved into position beside the entrance, checking angles like muscle memory.

    I palmed the access card, watched the sensor flick from red to green.

    Beep.

    The door slid open.

    I counted to two¡ªand felt the air shift. Not a breeze. Not sound. Just¡­ absence.

    Like something large moved fast past my periphery, too quick to see and too smooth to hear.

    I didn¡¯t turn.

    TAI again:

    ¡°Good. She¡¯s in.¡±

    I closed the door behind me.

    No one on the outside would¡¯ve seen her. Hell, I barely felt it.

    Mai stayed quiet, scanning the room like we were already under surveillance.

    ¡°Think they¡¯re watching?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Always,¡± she muttered. ¡°That¡¯s the point.¡±

    She was right. That was the whole con¡ªwe weren¡¯t really guests.

    We were the headcount. The reason this access point had a terminal at all.

    The ones they could track. The ones who gave Jane her window.

    We were the noise. She was the signal.

    The inside of the gallery didn¡¯t match the cold void up front.

    Dark, vaulted ceilings. Black floors. And art.

    Modern pieces that rose and fell like 2020s NFTs¡ªsome beautiful, most a cash run lit exhibits, like suspended ghosts in curated isolation.

    Each piece floated in controlled light¡ªsingle-source spots that made shadows dance away from the walls.

    No names. No titles. Just presence.

    Two figures stood near the first corner¡ªtall, black-suited watchers, neither armed nor moving.

    When we stepped forward, they both turned at once.

    Their glasses glowed faintly.

    Facial scan.

    I expected to feel it. A sweep. Subtle tickle at the back of the sinuses. I wanted to feel it. But nothing. Just digital tracking and done.

    They turned back around. No words. No nods. Nothing.

    We¡¯d passed.

    A lighted path flickered on beneath our feet as the only answer to our unspoken question¡ªpale white along the floor, like a museum projection line, leading us forward.

    At the end: a private room, sealed steel door, no handle.

    It opened automatically when we stepped forward.

    Inside looked like a screening room crossed with a rich man¡¯s panic den.

    Minimal.

    Low leather couch.

    A small hardwood table.

    A hard-wired tablet. Like something you''d find in a Cold War bunker.

    I frowned. ¡°That''s old school. I like it.¡±

    No signal. No TAI. No comms.

    "Your time to shine," Mai muttered.

    I stepped forward, and held the door open for Mai to walk in.

    Four-point-three seconds.

    No more, no less.

    I didn¡¯t look behind me.

    Didn¡¯t need to.

    I counted.

    Closed the door.

    Waited.

    I looked around the room and saw the multiple cameras and microphones through out the room. I turned and looked directly into the room¡¯s security cam.

    Let it see my face. My body. My suit.

    My stance said radiating command.

    "We said no surveillance in the auction. We like to discuss our purposes in private."

    I looked down at my watch and hacked the peripheral devices all at once while making it seem like it was all my watch. The camera light crackled off.

    Short-circuited.

    Dead.

    ¡°Jesus, about freaking time droid!¡±

    Jane unfolded from the wall behind it like a shimmer uncoiling into form.

    Cloak dissolved.

    Eyes green.

    Her frame¡ªstorm gray with glowing seams like exposed mana tendons.

    Under the hood, her red hair shimmered like wet curls plastered to her cheek. I have to admit it was an oddly specific and weird characteristic for an infiltration unit. One the Jane insisted on apparently.

    "What part of undetectable and unrecognizable don''t you understand?" I asked gesturing to her face.

    She held a finger to her lips. Then she flashed her lights¡ªthat green glow bathing the whole space.

    Only then did Mai release her questioning frown. I realized at that moment, Mai must''ve thought I was talking to the air.

    Jane stalked forward, pulled the tablet cable taut, and drove a spike connector directly into it from her wrist.

    No drama. No lights. Just a click.

    ¡°I¡¯m in. AI¡¯s countering me¡ªor trying.¡±

    Her voice was calm. Cold. Focused.

    I sat on the couch, leaned forward, tapped the screen.

    Real-time bids. Catalog entries. Names that shouldn''t be here.

    ¡°You know, this interface kinda slaps,¡± I muttered.

    ¡°Downloading. Forty-three seconds.¡±

    "Good. We play this out till end then leave same way." I replied to a nod.

    I tapped a few fake bids. Idle play. Window dressing.

    Time passed.

    No sirens.

    No reaction.

    ¡°Got it.¡± Jane disconnected.

    Just as the door sealed shut.

    Steel hiss. Deadlock thud.

    No override.

    "Thats at least 4 inches of steel. Not barging through that any time soon."

    ¡°Plan B then?¡± she asked, torch igniting from her palm.

    ¡°Hold that thought, kiddo.¡± I stood. Walked to the far wall. Knocked twice. Felt the give of the drywall, behind concrete veneer.

    ¡°Let me.¡±

    I reared back and punched through.

    Jane joined¡ªripping through the torn opening with brute speed.

    We slipped out into the rear hall, and saw them.

    Two Japanese enforcer droids, sleek-armored, fast.

    They stalked past us toward the sealed room.

    "Not these assholes again!" Jane whispered. "Weak backbones, but everything else is a bitch to crack."

    We waited for them to start getting into position in front of the room door. 4 armed security rushed in with full automatic rifles and body armor. The two handlers held pistols and flanked the door on each side. I counted seconds for them to breach. The door opened as quickly as it sealed, and the enforcers moved¡ªnot toward us¡ªinto the room

    We sprinted¡ªthrough the dark hall, minimum objective: reach the front gallery, primary objective: get Mai out of here. She didn''t have a backup.

    Dark walls. Art again. The service door way to the white hall in front of us.

    The enforcers turned. And sprinted out toward us. They were faster then they had any right to be.

    One pivoted toward me.

    The other tracked Jane.

    Showtime.

    Jane lit up green again¡ªfully. The light was blinding, and the robots stalled as their visuals were compromised.

    I pulled my spike out of my palm and sank it into the left eye of the enforcer on me. I wanted to make sure it stayed blind.

    Bullets rained down on us and I jumped in front of Mai, using my body as a shield, bullets hammering into my chest¡ªsome even punching through my outer skin.

    I returned fire with the built in gun in my other hand. I dropped the two pistol handling handlers. The four security goons ducked behind cover, sneaking peeks with rifle butts raised.

    The enforcer followed into me trying to take my head off with it''s built in sword on it''s forearm, but I ducked and jammed my stiletto into its neck, piercing its spinal column jamming its neural network. Sparks flew from conventional wires at the impact point, but the machine tried to carry on nonetheless less.

    I moved Mai back toward the door. Closed.

    The robot, slowed to a crawl but still coming at us. I fired my mini cannon at its processing core¡ªcenter of the back. Not easy, considering the fully armored front was charging straight at me. One, two, three, four armor penetrating bullets back to back, in same spot, finally broke through, the final bullet hitting into the processor box making it explode into chips out the back. Boom went the robot. Well, it fell down at least.

    Jane was already between the two droids, ballet and chaos, blades and dodge routines whittling down her own robot and avoiding a new blast of bullets.

    I returned fire and they hid back into their hide hole.

    I looked back at Jane to see her pulling the control unit from the machines back, as she hung upside down from her leg wrapped around its neck. And now you know why ours have mouths.

    She was the true threat now.

    I ran over to the wall and broke through again. Usually one security flaw will be found again, this case thankfully so.

    We ran into the white hall to find another security team ¡ª this one overwhelming, what was left of it ¡ª taking cover behind pillars in the hall ¡ª back to us.

    A couple of soldiers were already down. Overwatch sniper¡ªYasoba.

    ¡°Damn. Good shot.¡± I muttered as I fired the last few rounds from my forearm rig¡ªclean, disabling shots. Hips. Femurs. Nothing fatal. Not yet.

    Out the door we ran as we uploaded the data.

    Black Mercedes picked us up.

    Data retrieved. Mission success. Cover blown. Fallout pending.

    Rodrigo wannabe in the driver¡¯s seat. At least we know he''s an original.

    The safe house came fast. Mai pulled a case from under the front seat.

    Popped it open. Hoodie first. Then a full black face mask.

    ¡°The hood¡¯s not enough,¡± she said, slipping it on. ¡°I don¡¯t think I am, either.¡±

    ¡°Great. Who doesn¡¯t love masquerades.¡±

    ¡°Me.¡± flatly said the still-glowing android. ¡°Apparently I¡¯m bad at team names.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± I muttered again. ¡°Clap off, Jane.¡± I said as I clapped at our bright guest.

 Ch. 17 - Broken Backs Can Still Carry Camels

    We reached the safe house in under twenty minutes. It was buried in one of Munich¡¯s warehouse districts¡ªone of the older, quieter ones.

    The night air smelled like oil and wet rust. A narrow canal ran alongside our storage unit, its current lazy and dark.

    The route we¡¯d taken was camera-free. The roads were tight, lined with graffiti-scrawled walls and shuttered loading bays.

    Water lapped against the guardrails as we approached¡ªsoft, rhythmic. The only music in the night.

    Mai, dressed like a shadow in her sweater and mask, isolated herself in a guest room the moment we arrived. Jane disappeared into the cybernetics utility closet¡ªprobably to recharge or fix something. Who knows. I wasn¡¯t tracking that anomaly. I had TAI for that.

    Yasoba and I crossed paths in the general quarters not long after. He¡¯d just arrived¡ªsniper rifle still strapped across his back in a matte Cielo case, the sling pulled tight across his chest. He placed the case in the corner and stepped over. A support staffer quietly retrieved it and carried it off to the armory.

    "Provost. That mission was a bit screwed. Not sure how else to infiltrate though. Thoughts?" I asked.

    "No. Not good," he said, extending his cybernetic arm. First real handshake. ¡°We would¡¯ve just taken out leadership.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but Kelsey¡¯s middle management. She can source product, sure¡ªbut she¡¯s not the one who brought in all that interest.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of her. Do we have her yet?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s being rounded up by my security team as soon as she lands back on the island.¡±

    ¡°If she runs?¡±

    ¡°She won¡¯t. She thinks she¡¯s clean. Especially after we made it look like the Americans hacked her. If anything, she expects us to protect her.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡± He paused, thinking it through. ¡°I see. How¡¯s your partner doing? She seemed¡­ impacted by the collateral.¡±

    Sharp. Yasoba hadn¡¯t had eyes on us for more than a minute as we ran to the car¡ªand yet, he read Mai like a book. I¡¯d noticed the tension too. That slow-breathing kind of anxiety that settles in when adrenaline fades. Getting shot at does that¡ªeven to the best of us.

    ¡°Ma¡­arlin will be fine,¡± I said, rolling my cigar between two fingers. ¡°She just needs time. Time to unwind. Process the night. Like all of us. I¡¯ll schedule a post-mortem¡ªgo over what we did right, and what needs fixing.¡±

    ¡°And good job on the response team. Crack shooting.¡±

    I nodded toward the hallway. ¡°Go get some rest. I¡¯ll page you when you¡¯re needed.¡±

    He nodded back, then walked off¡ªquiet and deliberate¡ªtoward one of the guest rooms.

    After a few minutes, I turned and headed to Mai¡¯s room to check in on her.

    The safe house always felt too quiet after missions. Her room was doubly so.

    Not the kind of quiet you enjoy. The kind that hums in your teeth. Like something still waiting to go wrong.

    Mai sat by the wall-mounted desk¡ªback straight, shoulders set too tight. She¡¯d changed out of the infiltration gear, now in plain sweats. Hair still damp from a quick shower. Eyes locked on the tablet in front of her.

    Only the tablet wasn¡¯t on.

    She was just... looking at it.

    I didn¡¯t say anything at first. Just moved around the space quietly¡ªresetting gear, recharging batteries. Tidying the things she¡¯d thrown. Watching her watch the blank screen.

    ¡°Want anything?¡± I asked eventually. Casual.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Food? Water?¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯m... fine.¡±

    She wasn¡¯t. But you don¡¯t say that to someone like Mai.

    She looked put together. But too much so. Every thread in place. Every motion calculated. Like she was performing fine on a stage no one was watching.

    ¡°You should rest.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡±

    ¡°Will you?¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer. Just picked up a comms glove and started folding it¡ªagain. Third time.

    ¡°I can leave,¡± I offered. ¡°Give you some room. If you need that.¡±

    She paused. Eyes flicked toward me for half a second.

    ¡°No. I... I don''t think I should be alone, Kay.¡±

    ¡°Wanna talk?¡±

    She nodded. Small, like it cost her something just to get it out.

    Then silence again.

    She opened the small fridge in the room, yanking the door open too hard. The crack of it hitting the wall filled the air. She flinched. Not big¡ªjust a micro-recoil. Then grabbed a water bottle and slammed the door shut.

    Twist. Pop. Her knuckles went white on the cap like she was trying to snap the whole neck off. She took a sip. Set it down. Picked it up again two seconds later. Her thumb flicked across the label. Then the seam. Then the dent she¡¯d just made.

    Her hands didn¡¯t know what to do. So they kept moving.

    ¡°I died, Kay.¡±

    She didn¡¯t look at me. Just stared down like the bottle was her own autopsy report.

    ¡°I died and... and you didn¡¯t even realize it. If you weren¡¯t there to sponge those bullets¡ª¡±

    Her grip tightened. Plastic groaned.

    ¡°I¡¯d be dead right now.¡±

    "That wasn¡¯t just a choke, Kay. That was a full on freeze."

    ¡°We didn¡¯t expect counter action like that,¡± I said. ¡°It was a surprise for all of us.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the fucking point, Kay!¡±

    Her voice spiked. The bottle screamed in her grip.

    ¡°I. Fucking. DIED. There.¡±

    Crack.

    "Actually, actually that is the point Kay. We were all surprised, ambushed and critically out numbered. Yet... YET! You and Jane still managed to just fucking steam roll them Kay. No human team would have left that gallery unscathed -- probably not even alive. But, not you two."

    Water beaded out from the seam.

    She took a deep long breath.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a robot, Kay,¡± she said softly. ¡°I don¡¯t have backups and fucking spawn points." In an exhausted tone.

    "I¡¯m not a special tactics agent¡ªI¡¯m a liaison. I did team coordination and diplomatic projects. I¡¯m not supposed to be getting shot at! " following up with a snapping tone "At least not this fucking much Kay!¡±

    She stood. Still holding the bottle like a weapon.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t what we do,¡± she said, louder now. ¡°We don¡¯t go on ops like this in the real world. Not like this. This is all fucking spy novel bullshit.¡±

    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    She turned¡ªface flushed, hands shaking.

    ¡°And you¡¯re all just fine with it. Like it¡¯s a Tuesday. Like two people didn¡¯t die so we could scan their face and a whole fucking platoon of mercenaries didn''t have their day screwed.¡±

    She took a swig of water, swallowed and shook her head.

    ¡°What the hell am I even doing here? I¡¯m useless for this. You don¡¯t need liaisons, not with TAI running half your comms. Tulanto doesn¡¯t need me.¡±

    The bottle launched¡ªfast and ugly. It hit the wall to my left, bounced, spun, and thudded against the carpet.

    She didn¡¯t watch it land.

    "You''re not a liaison Mai, you''re my partner. You''re the deputy of security for an entire nation. Thats your job now."

    "Then why are we even out here?" She whispered.

    "We wear multiple hats. It''s a small nation."

    No tears at first. Just breath. Labored. Uneven. A small laugh that turned into a more unsnarled one.

    Then the sound caught in her throat.

    ¡°I¡¯m not built for this,¡± she said again. Quieter now. Smaller. ¡°I don¡¯t know who I am in this world any more Kay.¡±

    I crouched near her¡ªclose, but not touching.

    ¡°You¡¯re more than built for what we need Mai,¡± I said quietly. ¡°You¡¯re here with me. I calculate everything. And I say your help counts.¡±

    She looked up. Eyes wet now. Jaw locked.

    ¡°You don¡¯t get it. You never break. Bullets. People. Nothing breaks you. And... and I''m tired Kay.¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t break around people.¡±

    Her expression shifted. A blink. Confusion. Then just¡­ exhaustion.

    She opened her mouth like she wanted to argue¡ªbut nothing came.

    So she closed it again.

    And she just sat there. Shoulders hunched. Breathing rough in the desk chair.

    I¡¯d seen people break before¡ªin war rooms, in field debriefs, in hospital corridors with blood still under their nails.

    But this¡­ this was different.

    It was quiet. Personal. Worse.

    Her world had been flipped more than once since she met me. So I couldn¡¯t fault her for shifting the blame¡ªsome of it, at least¡ªonto my shoulders.

    She wasn¡¯t a spy. Not really. Not anymore.

    But the world didn¡¯t care. She kept getting pulled back in¡ªshadow ops, fieldwork, full-on black-bag bullshit. Just for knowing me.

    Hell, even I didn¡¯t feel like a detective anymore.

    This wasn¡¯t justice. It wasn¡¯t intel.

    It was starting to feel like State Department¨Clevel sabotage.

    Like trying to shove a squat brick through a round hole and pretending it fit just because no one was looking too close.

    At a certain point, you just gotta say fuck it.

    So I did.

    ¡°TAI, send him in,¡± I muttered through the Squabble channel. Cold. Artificial. But sometimes the cleanest tool in the box was the right one.

    I stepped back¡ªfaded into the room¡¯s edge.

    He entered without sound.

    I caught him just as he passed. Placed a hand on his shoulder. Whispered, low:

    ¡°She¡¯s having a hard time figuring out where she fits. I think you can help her remember.¡±

    He didn¡¯t answer. Just met my eyes. Fire. Focus. That same heat he always carried under the surface¡ªnow tempered.

    Then he crossed the room.

    No words.

    She didn¡¯t hear him at first.

    But I saw it¡ªthe moment she felt it. The breath catch. The flicker in her fingers as if her body remembered something before her mind did.

    Then arms. Around her. Firm. Familiar.

    She froze.

    Her hands lifted, searching.

    Then the sob caught in her throat broke free.

    She turned.

    And saw him.

    She didn¡¯t say a word.

    She didn¡¯t have to.

    She just collapsed into him¡ªYasoba Shinya, aka Provost¡ªand this time, she didn¡¯t hold back.

    I slipped out, leaving them in silence.

    Didn¡¯t need to hear what came next. Some things are private. Sacred, even in our line of work.

    The corridor to the utility wing buzzed faintly with the hum of power regulators and occasional mechanical clicks¡ªrecalibration work, maybe a diagnostic run. Familiar sounds. Comforting in their own way.

    Found her sitting in the old maintenance chair. Faceplate half-detached, neck port jacked into the spinal rig like a marionette half-strung. She couldn¡¯t move. Couldn¡¯t speak. Just sat there¡ªlocked in place, eyes dull and half-glazed.

    Gone was the sleek infiltrator frame. What sat there now was her original chassis: fair skin, soft features, a shock of red hair damp against her collarbone. Green eyes, glassy and empty. Giselle. The real Jane. Or at least the version before the violence.

    She looked like a doll someone forgot to wind up.

    I hadn¡¯t seen one of those chairs in decades. The kind of hardline system reset meant for older units¡ªor for ones that didn¡¯t trust wireless diagnostics.

    I leaned against the doorframe and waited.

    After a few more ticks, her eyes flickered. Her faceplate slid back into place with a quiet click, features adjusting, eyes blinking once¡ªthen narrowing into a look that screamed "caught with my wires out."

    ¡°You good?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Physically?¡± she said, still rebooting. ¡°Sure. Psychologically? Unknown. TAI hasn¡¯t pushed the patch yet.¡±

    I smirked. ¡°So that¡¯s a yes.¡±

    She rolled her neck, green eyes tracking up toward me with mock irritation. ¡°You always loiter when women are half-assembled? TAI¡¯s dating you, right? Wonder what she sees.¡±

    "Kay is an enigma within a mystery stuffed inside a candy bar wrapper," TAI said through the overhead speaker.

    I chuckled. ¡°That sounds like her.¡±

    Jane didn¡¯t smile.

    I nodded toward the grey infiltrator shell mounted on the wall behind her. ¡°So¡­ is this the real you now? Or that thing?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. This is,¡± she said, voice flat. ¡°At least... seems that way. Yasoba¡¯s orders. Said I should remember who I was before I started ghosting through walls.¡±

    ¡°Smart man.¡±

    ¡°No kidding. I hate when he¡¯s right,¡± she said, scratching at her forearm. Dead tell. The body was temp-printed here for local use. It¡¯d be incinerated once she got back to the island and uploaded into her new permanent frame.

    I gestured toward the hallway. ¡°C¡¯mon, kid. We¡¯ve got the night free while the Yasobas reunite.¡±

    ¡°Reunite? Wait¡ªyou¡¯ve got his girlfriend here?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯d be my partner. They were in the same cell when we met. Love-on-the-job type deal. Spend enough time with someone, you get attached. Ain¡¯t that right, TAI?¡±

    ¡°That is correct. Thirty-three years, three months, and four days for us.¡±

    ¡°No hours?¡± Jane asked.

    ¡°No need to get into our details, Giselle,¡± TAI replied¡ªcold and clipped. End of that conversation.

    We made our way down to the gym floor¡ªone level below, tucked between the armory annex and a half-finished training sim. TAI had suggested sparring with Jane. Said it would help me ¡°understand her better¡± for potential field integration.

    I didn¡¯t like the sound of that last part. We were overdue for a professional sit-down¡ªone where I reminded her what my job actually was. Mai had been right. We weren¡¯t supposed to be running field ops. Not anymore. Not when our jurisdiction was an entire nation.

    We stepped onto the sparring mat. Low light. Soft grip flooring. Wall-mounted training gear tucked into racks like museum pieces. This wasn¡¯t a combat gym. It was a private space. Controlled. Quiet.

    Jane cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders, her expression somewhere between curious and cocky.

    ¡°You ready, old man?¡±

    I adjusted my gloves and stepped into orthodox stance. ¡°Been ready since before you were printed.¡±

    She flicked a grin. ¡°Try not to fall apart when I go Aikido.¡±

    TAI chimed a bell for us. Round started.

    She came in light on her feet¡ªbounce, pivot, dart. Open-hand feints. Quick wrist flicks. I stepped forward and jabbed hard. Caught her square on the cheek before she finished her first form.

    "Point... Kay" Tai chimed in.

    ¡°Ow,¡± she said, more surprised than hurt. ¡°Okay. Boxers don¡¯t wait.¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    She shifted styles¡ªCapoeira now. A flowing spin with a sweeping motion. Beautiful. Pointless. I ducked, stepped in, and shoulder-checked her straight back. She hit the mat, rolled up into crouch.

    "Point for Kay... again" Tai chimed in.

    ¡°You counter flair with fists?¡± she muttered.

    ¡°Every time.¡±

    She tried Krav next. Fast elbows, centerline attacks. I took one to the ribs, then slipped her next drive and pivoted¡ªforearm locked her wrist, shoulder into her chest. Down again.

    "Point Jane. Two points Kay, lock and grapple" TAI said

    ¡°You¡¯re cheating.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m winning.¡±

    She cycled into a Muay Thai stance. Solid. Aggressive. Tried a clinch with upward knee.

    I shut it down with a quick cross to her sternum and a shove.

    "Point Kay. Again." Tai said with a bit of smirk to her voice.

    ¡°Can¡¯t throw if you¡¯re backing up,¡± I said.

    "Fine! And enough TAI, god"

    She tried Jeet Kune Do next. Light touch. Intercepting handwork. I let her dance for five seconds, then planted a firm body hook that took the wind out of her momentum.

    "Point. Kay" TAI whispered.

    She broke off, breathing heavier.

    ¡°You¡¯re not faster than me.¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°Stronger?¡±

    ¡°Doubt it.¡±

    She frowned. ¡°Then how¡ª¡±

    ¡°Footwork. Angles. I don¡¯t let you finish your thought.¡±

    She paused, standing straight now, arms low. ¡°You¡¯re not fighting like a cop.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a cop. I¡¯m coast guard, original interceptors¡±

    Round reset. She walked back to her corner, pacing. Thinking.

    ¡°You¡¯re like... boring but effective.¡±

    I smirked. ¡°That¡¯s the idea.¡±

    ¡°You know I could kill you, right? Like, if we were going full tilt.¡±

    ¡°Probably. But you¡¯d have to catch me first.¡±

    ¡°Asshole.¡±

    The bell chimed again.

    This time, she didn¡¯t attack. She just circled, watching.

    Thinking.

    And I liked that.

    Because it meant she finally stopped trying to win and started trying to learn.

    Eventually Jane slumped onto the edge of the mat, towel over her neck, sweat nonexistent but in full fighter character. Green eyes still narrowed at me.

    ¡°I hate you a little,¡± she muttered.

    ¡°I get that with the ladies a lot¡±

    TAI harrumphed a bit.

    She tilted her head, watching me. ¡°You¡¯re not what I expected.¡±

    ¡°Most things aren¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Yasoba¡¯s right,¡± she said after a beat. ¡°About fieldwork. You¡¯re not supposed to be doing this. ''It''s not in his purview'' he said¡± she imitated his voice almost exactly. Something most androids on the island see as rude.

    ¡°I know. And don''t do that anymore, the thing with the voice. It''s rude.¡±

    ¡°Really?" She asked in a small voice, not aware of any rules. Only to deflect "What androids have manners on when to replicate someone''s voice now? Says the one who wore a human''s face and voice no so long ago.¡±

    "Yes, we do, for about twenty years now actually. And that was a mission. This isn''t. So that makes it rude."

    She shrugged. ¡°No one told me. I''m not really a normal android.¡±

    She looked away. ¡°And I''m sure you think that¡¯s a terrible reason.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s also the truth.¡±

    Silence settled between us again¡ªthis time, not heavy. Just real.

 Ch. 18 - The Proverbial Daughter Returns

    The plane ride back was uneventful. TAI had already debriefed us, logged the reports, and wrapped the op in a neat bureaucratic bow¡ªmy job now was to review it all in my capacity as Head of Security. Always surreal seeing our actions reduced to sterile nouns and classified verbs¡ªobjectified into assets, tagged as agents.

    Giselle and I played a few rounds of virtual table tennis. She kicked my ass.

    Mai and Yasoba kept to themselves. Nothing isolating about it, but the quiet intimacy painted a soft divide in the cabin. The kind you don¡¯t cross unless invited.

    We landed quiet. No fanfare. No welcome party. Just soft wheels kissing mana-glass at Tulanto International and the gentle hum of the engines powering down.

    The doors hissed open. TAI¡¯s voice pinged across our comms a second later:

    ¡°Yasoba Shinya. Jane. Please proceed to the logistics transport on Pad 2. Lab team is standing by for bio-sequencing, neural integrity check, and long-term housing prep.¡±

    Yasoba gave me a slight nod, then moved.

    Jane stood without looking back. Her new chassis was waiting in the labs¡ªshe¡¯d been talking about it non-stop, giddy as a teenager. Gabbing through our whole tournament-level run of virtual table tennis.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let her mouth get you in trouble,¡± I said.

    He didn¡¯t even smile. Just walked down the ramp beside her, coat trailing like a shadow. Jane scratched absently at her forearms¡ªthe rash spreading along her one-week-rated temp body.

    Mai didn¡¯t move.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going with them?¡± I asked.

    She shook her head, eyes still fixed out the window. ¡°Jane doesn¡¯t need me for that. She¡¯s got TAI. And half the science division is practically salivating over her existence.¡±

    ¡°And Yasoba?¡±

    She smiled¡ªsmall, tired. ¡°He¡¯s getting his arm upgraded. I think he¡¯s cyberpunking himself. Kept talking about all the ¡®cool¡¯ things he wanted to install. It was¡­ cute.¡±

    ¡°Cute. Yeah... You okay?¡±

    ¡°I will be.¡± A beat. ¡°Just not in the mood to watch Kelsey smirk her way through a hearing while pretending none of this matters.¡±

    Another pause. Then she turned to me. ¡°I¡¯ve got a meeting with AG about Yasoba¡¯s status. He¡¯s staying." She looked up at me "I want him to stay. We¡¯ll need to figure out what that means.¡±

    ¡°You stepping back?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m repositioning,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s different. But Kay... he needs a sponsor. And I don¡¯t know if just me is enough.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°He¡¯s got it. But what do you mean repositioning, Mai?¡±

    She touched my shoulder lightly as she passed.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, some of the tension easing from her face. "Just like I said, Kay: repositioning. I tried to be a partner to you¡ªa field agent like I was in Japan¡ªwhile also taking on a higher role inside Sir Mellon¡¯s org when I could. I can¡¯t do both. I need to anchor. When you¡¯re out there doing all the globe-trotting Bond work. Someone¡¯s gotta hold the fort back home."

    She paused. ¡°I don¡¯t think Deputy of Security is the right call for me--Frank, maybe. But Deputy of Intelligence? That... that feels right. We have TAI¡ªbut she¡¯s more like an all-seeing eye. She gives us data. Not interpretation. Not context. That¡¯s where I come in. I¡¯m going to talk to Alistair about it. See where it lands. What do you think?¡±

    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°You mean the King?¡±

    She smirked. ¡°Yeah, him.¡±

    Of course she was comfortable like that. Of course it annoyed me.

    I knew Mai had been trying to adjust to security work, trying to fit in where she could. But truth was¡ªshe¡¯d already been doing the intel job, just without the title. Sir Mellon even said as much.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re right. But... did Mellon play me? Long con too?¡±

    She laughed¡ªreally laughed¡ªand then she was gone.

    <hr>

    Frank met me in the main corridor outside the tribunal wing. He looked tired¡ªnot the kind sleep fixes. The kind that settles in your bones after too many hours of footage, too many teams, too much national weight.

    ¡°How you holding up, Frank?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m okay. Been a busy couple days.¡± His voice was flat.

    ¡°Congrats on the promotion, by the way.¡±

    He blinked, caught off guard. ¡°Promotion?¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡± I didn¡¯t explain.

    I shifted gears. ¡°She say anything useful?¡±

    He gave a dry laugh. ¡°She said she liked the color of the interrogation room walls. Asked how we got our eye color readings so accurate.¡±

    ¡°No cracks then?¡±

    ¡°None. Calm as ever. She thinks she¡¯s untouchable.¡±

    He handed me a tablet. ¡°Everything we¡¯ve got. Facial reads, blink rates, tension spikes. TAI¡¯s team thinks she¡¯s either trained to beat scans¡­ or she genuinely believes she¡¯s done nothing wrong. I¡¯m betting the latter.¡±

    I skimmed the highlights.

    One, Kelsey Marva. First-gen Tulantian. Born on the island, raised just privileged enough to think the rules didn¡¯t apply. You know the type¡ªparents with just enough legacy to whisper about, not enough to cash in.

    Graduated top of her class, where all our kids are top one percent in the world. That tells you she was smart, but she also thought of herself as smart.

    She ran logistics for Aquila. Officially. Unofficially, she was a leak. Not a faucet¡ªjust a valve that looked the other way while the real water got through.

    The file said she was calm. Read ¡°low spike activity,¡± ¡°suppressed stress patterns.¡± I read it as practiced. This wasn¡¯t her first time being caught--all small offenses. Typical coast guard fines. This was just the first time it mattered.

    Vids from interrogation showed her looking bored. Hands folded neatly. Eyes straight ahead. Like she was waiting for a delayed flight, not the collapse of her life.

    Her quotes were smug. ¡°Nice wall color.¡± ¡°Do you do custom eye tint?¡±

    No panic. No pleading. Like none of this would stick.

    Yet for all her smarts, she wasn''t a tactician--she didn''t know many global players. Not the type that the auction garnered.

    Her known contacts list read like a demo Rolodex -- a kid playing grown up:

    Mateo Falieri¡ªdead in a secret lab in his own home, after getting too close to his own product. Italian intelligence, or ex-intelligence¡ªthough is anyone ever really ex? Smart enough to build routes, paranoid enough to ghost his own friends. He gave Kelsey reach. Not global, but wider than she¡¯d ever managed alone. A lieutenant with ambition. Just not the vision.

    Timmy Johnson¡ªtoo young to be in her orbit. Too clever for his own good. Hormones and testosterone planned his decisions, and she took advantage of that¡ªused him. I¡¯d wonder if she seduced him, but the way she commandeered Audrey from under him? I¡¯d say she was more pissed than possessive Penance, with a side of serving self. That fit her better.

    Mercenaries and Japanese-made enforcer units? No way was that her doing.

    It didn¡¯t add up. There was a player missing.

    I flipped through shipment logs, warehouse registries, coded comm bursts. Everything danced just outside direct implication. That was her real skill. Distance.

    One degree off from guilt. Every time.

    They said she might believe she did nothing wrong. I wasn¡¯t sure if that made her more dangerous... or just pathetic.

    But AG saw something. Enough to pull charter override and sit judgment himself.

    That¡¯s not something he does lightly.

    So I kept reading. Because if Alistair Gannon was sharpening the knife, I wanted to know exactly what he planned to cut.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    It made me itch.

    ¡°She still in holding?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. But AG pulled charter override. Tribunal rights.¡±

    I looked up. ¡°Yep, I heard.¡±

    Her strength was that she knew the Tulanto legal system and played it like a fine guitar. But, no one ever thinks the king will get involved as he rarely does. But when he does the game is vastly different. This time she was in for a surprise.

    Frank nodded. ¡°And you¡¯re gonna want to be there when he does.¡±

    We walked into the tribunal wing¡ªa quiet stretch of Tulanto¡¯s central admin block, where offices and courtrooms lived behind layered mana glass and reinforced civility.

    Most people entered through the public wing, but we weren¡¯t most people. We took the back corridors. Familiar ones. The front desk agent spotted us and gave a wave.

    I tipped my hat in return¡ªmuch to Frank¡¯s annoyance.

    Small pleasures.

    We cleared security without a word. The guards, all human from the courts department, didn¡¯t even blink. Frank had his badge. I had my face. That was enough.

    Tulanto kept its legal system human on purpose. AIs could testify, report, and process¡ªbut not judge. Not here. Not ever. It was a line they¡¯d drawn decades ago, and unlike most lines in politics, this one held.

    Legal security, courtroom enforcement, final rulings¡ªthey were all flesh and blood. Because no matter how advanced we got, people still wanted to be judged by people.

    The tribunal chamber wasn¡¯t grand. It wasn¡¯t meant to be. Wood-paneled walls. Soft mana lighting. A curved bench, three chairs. No holograms. No high ceilings. It felt less like a courtroom and more like a confession box.

    It wasn¡¯t built for drama.

    It was built for finality.

    Kelsey Marva was already inside.

    She sat alone at the center table¡ªno cuffs, no restraints. Just a sleek black blazer, tidy hair, and the posture of someone auditioning for a high-paying consulting gig.

    Not a traitor. Not a smuggler. Not a liability.

    A citizen. Showing up for a misunderstanding.

    Her eyes followed us in. No flinch. No smile. Calm, practiced. Like this was all just part of the process.

    She didn¡¯t bring counsel. That could mean confidence¡­ or arrogance. Probably both.

    We took our seats in the rear¡ªjust off centerline. Frank handed a tablet with the formal charges to the clerk as a formality. Custom was alive in Tulanto courts. The clerk would read them aloud in a moment.

    Everyone in the room knew what they said.

    What mattered now wasn¡¯t evidence. It was presence.

    Who would speak.

    Who wouldn¡¯t.

    The center chair of the tribunal bench¡ªthe one for the Supreme Tribune¡ªremained turned away, facing the far wall. Standard Tulanto custom. ¡°Justice is blind¡± made literal. The presiding judge didn¡¯t face the room until the trial reached its pivotal moment.

    To Kelsey, it looked normal.

    But something was already off.

    The two auxiliary judges flanking the chair¡ªone older, one younger¡ªsat stiffly. Both women. Both pale. Not out of fear. Out of awareness.

    They knew who was watching.

    A soft mana glow pulsed at the base of the Supreme Tribune¡¯s seat¡ªan indication, to those who knew, that the chair was occupied.

    He was here.

    Listening.

    Waiting.

    The bailiff stepped to the center of the room, boots quiet on the mana-treated floor.

    ¡°All rise for the honorable judges,¡± he said. No names. No titles. Just protocol.

    Another Tulanto oddity¡ªintentional anonymity in matters involving national security. Justice wasn¡¯t about personalities here. It was about precedent.

    ¡°Due to the severity of the charges, this session has been elevated to a chartered tribunal involving classified state secrets. If you are not cleared for Platinum-level security access, please exit the room now.¡±

    A few murmurs. A few gasps. Some court reporters and minor bureaucrats gathered their things in a quiet shuffle of fabric and muttered curses. The back door clicked a few times as bodies filed out.

    Kelsey didn¡¯t so much as blink.

    Good poker face. Or just no fear.

    The bailiff returned to his post. The clerk stepped forward, tablet in hand.

    ¡°Frank Parker,¡± he intoned, ¡°you bring charges against Citizen Kelsey Marva, including¡ªsummary count¡ªillegal smuggling, unauthorized export of national technologies, and acts of coercion against both foreign and domestic agents. Are you prepared to proceed with formal indictment?¡±

    Frank rose. ¡°I am, Your Honors.¡±

    He sat. Calm. Measured. No embellishment.

    The clerk tapped his tablet. His brows lifted slightly as he scanned the first page.

    Then he began to read the full list.

    It took a while.

    The room stayed quiet. Not reverent. Just¡­ bracing.

    And still, Kelsey didn¡¯t move.

    Not an inch.

    Kelsey stood when prompted. Back straight. Hands relaxed at her sides.

    ¡°How do you plead to the charges presented?¡± the judge on the right asked.

    ¡°Not guilty,¡± she said, clear and smooth. No hesitation. Not defiant either¡ªjust¡­ confident.

    She sat back down like she hadn¡¯t just invited the storm to come.

    The judges peppered Frank¡ªwho, in his capacity as the arresting security officer was acting as prosecution. Another Tulanto quirk¡ªhere, the investigators often acted as prosecutors. Being androids and all we had the required skillsets built in. For the few human officers we were bringing on, we allowed them to proxy through an on-scene android. It streamlined justice and left biases out of the mix due to ai dis-attachment.

    They questioned evidence chains, raid justifications, financial trails. Frank answered each with calm professionalism, occasionally referencing the footage, surveillance reports, or seized manifests from the German warehouse raids¡ªmore importantly, he pointed out gaps in his own case, the kind no human prosecutor would ever willingly admit.

    It was long. It was dry. It was the kind of thing that would put half a jury to sleep.

    But Kelsey stayed alert the whole time.

    She didn¡¯t interrupt. Didn¡¯t fidget. Just waited for her chance to respond.

    And when it came?

    She denied where she had to. Deflected when she could. Asserted her right to silence without arrogance, without fear.

    It was graceful. Controlled. Impressive.

    If she¡¯d chosen another life, she could¡¯ve taught trial law to first-years.

    Hell¡ªshe probably still could.

    The room settled after Kelsey¡¯s last answer.

    Both judges turned slightly in their seats¡ªnot to face the room, but each other. Leaning inward, close enough to confer but still angled toward the central chair.

    They weren¡¯t debating law. Not anymore.

    They looked like people who¡¯d just tasted something foul and were trying to decide whether to spit it out or swallow it.

    Then the center chair¡ªthe one facing away the whole time¡ªshifted.

    It turned.

    All three chairs clicked softly into place. Unified. Final.

    Kelsey¡¯s head tilted¡ªjust enough to catch it.

    And for the first time, she reacted.

    A hitch in her throat. A blink that took half a second too long. A shift in posture¡ªtiny, but unmistakable.

    Because seated in the main chair¡ªcalm, still, and quietly devastating¡ªwas Alistair Gannon.

    The Founder.

    The King.

    The man whose signature still adorned half the island¡¯s founding documents.

    Tulanto was a monarchy¡ªnot that most thought about it. The royals didn¡¯t parade. The lords didn¡¯t lord. But when they chose to act?

    It was absolute.

    Having the King here¡ªthe whole time¡ªwatching, listening, weighing¡­

    It rattled her. Hard.

    No one moved. Even the two judges looked straight ahead, eyes fixed, as if they weren¡¯t sure where this was about to go.

    He didn¡¯t raise his voice.

    Didn¡¯t gesture.

    Just spoke. Calm. Measured. Like a storm gathering over still water.

    ¡°Ms. Marva,¡± he said. ¡°It was announced that this tribunal had been converted to a chartered trial. Correct?¡±

    Kelsey straightened. ¡°Yes, Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°And do you understand the difference between a chartered tribunal and a constitutional one? Or a regular criminal proceeding?¡±

    She hesitated.

    Not long. But just long enough.

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty.¡± she said firmly, too firmly.

    "Good. Please, indulge the court with your understanding of the differences Ms. Marva."

    ¡°¡­It¡¯s an older clause,¡± she said carefully. ¡°Rarely invoked. I assumed it meant elevated clearance. Special conditions.¡±

    AG tilted his head. ¡°No. It means you¡¯re no longer being judged by your peers, Ms. Marva. You¡¯re being judged by the Charter itself. By the authority that predates all of this. By the founding will of this island. My will, latter written into law¡ªmy will, which is law, Ms. Marva.¡±

    Kelsey sat straighter. Not out of pride¡ªout of instinct.

    AG took a breath and paused for a moment with a look of pain that he had to chastise one of his island''s children.

    "We have sat, and heard this trial. We have heard the evidence, and we have heard your defense. And what a defense it was, just enough deniability to make my two judges here to be forced to concede your innocence."

    She let a breath out relaxing as this statement.

    "However, it is not up to their interpretation of the law but my interpretation of your actions and how they have already undermined the security and hard earned sovereignty of this nation."

    Her face turned pale.

    "You¡¯ve wasted our time. Wasted our resources. And exhausted the empathy we reserve for wayward children.¡±

    ¡°Know this Kelsey Marva of the first generation Marva family, Anil Marva father; Lakshmi Marva; Priya Marva sister. You are not clever. You are not a patriot. You are a liability... with delusions of legacy.¡±

    ¡°It pains me to give this order. But sometimes a gardener must prune his garden for the weeds that would choke his prized flowers to death. You are one such weed. Your citizenship is hereby revoked. You are exiled. Your assets, holdings, and corporate affiliations are forfeit.¡±

    She blinked. Once. But the silence said everything. A small smile forced on her face to communicate this was no big deal. The pain could be seen around her eyes.

    He wasn¡¯t done.

    ¡°Because you have hidden your partners so well we will do what we can to prevent this growth wherever possible Kelsey. As rot often does not grow in a vacuum I am extending the revocation to your family up to the third branch. "

    Her face cracked, her mouth opening a small no as she gasped out "No!"

    Taking a breath AG continued. "Parents. Siblings. In-laws. They will pay your price as well. They will no longer profit from this institution. Unless you have something to share with us Kelsey. Do you?¡±

    Kelsey went to speak and found herself voiceless. Her mouth was moving but the shock of it all was starting to process through her genius brain.

    She didn¡¯t move.

    The silence didn¡¯t belong to her anymore.

    "Ok, in that case ..."

    ¡°Wait!¡± she squeaked.

    ¡°I have names. Mateo Falieri. He came to me when I told him I had spare androids. Said he could off-shore them. That if I didn¡¯t work with him, he¡¯d kill me.¡±

    I stood. ¡°Your Majesty. Mateo Falieri was found dead in his apartment in Venice. Lab accident.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± AG said, already knowing.

    Her breath hitched¡ªbarely. But I caught it.

    She¡¯d suspected. That Mateo might be gone. Might be a casualty of this whole unraveling. But hearing it aloud¡ªdefinitive, final¡ªlanded like a punch to the ribs.

    And worse¡ªit meant she¡¯d played a dead man¡¯s name too early. No leverage. No mercy. Just ashes.

    ¡°Seems not much of value, Ms. Marva,¡± AG said, voice flat.

    She took a breath. Eyes flicked to him. Thinking. Calculating.

    ¡°Uh¡­ I¡­¡± Her voice faltered.

    ¡°I can give you the person who made the illegal androids. All the orders. Fulfillments. Every transaction. Everything.¡±

    She looked pained. Like saying it out loud cost her.

    ¡°Ah. Yes. Young Timmy Johnson,¡± AG said. ¡°You would sacrifice this savant for your own purposes¡­ again?¡±

    Her face paled. Caught. Red-handed. Still digging.

    ¡°At this point, you make it apparent you are shielding your true partner. Offering cannon fodder. Sacrificing pawns.¡±

    He didn¡¯t even raise his voice.

    ¡°Our inclination is to proceed with your original judgment.¡±

    ¡°Wait, no¡ªplease. I can give you him. The real one.¡±

    She swallowed. Finally understanding what this was.

    What it always had been.

    A negotiation with teeth.

    ¡°I need assurances,¡± she said. ¡°If I give you his name, that my family¡ª¡±

    ¡°No,¡± AG interrupted. ¡°You have no say in your judgment. But we will be merciful to your family. Cooperate, and only you will bear the consequences.¡±

    A beat.

    ¡°Fine,¡± she whispered. ¡°I only know him as Vincent. But I can forward you the contact protocols. He¡¯s the one who brought Mateo in. The one who set up the auction logistics. After that, I just made sure Timmy got what he needed.¡±

    She exhaled.

    Vincent. Or Vinny. It all clicked then.

    And Kelsey Marva had nothing else left to bargain with.

 Ch.19 - Strength and Sovereignty

    We took Kelsey out of the building and escorted her to gather her personal effects¡ªclothes, a laptop, a tablet, that sort of thing¡ªbefore loading her onto a skiff bound for Tuvalu. Every Tulanto citizen had dual citizenship through our original land sale agreement, a fact often overlooked until exile became real. It was just one of the many ways our nations remained tied at the hip.

    The trial changed something in me.

    I used to think I was protecting property¡ªassets, infrastructure, classified systems. But Tulanto wasn¡¯t just tech. It was an idea. A merit-based society, upheld by impartial AI, wasn¡¯t a ¡°set it and forget it¡± utopia. It needed guardians. Defenders.

    Because when someone steals our tech¡­ they¡¯re not just stealing code or machinery. They¡¯re stealing sovereignty. And without that, bigger nations will force their vision of ¡°what¡¯s right¡± on us.

    Over the years, as Tulanto¡¯s prosperity outpaced that of our donor nation, Tuvalu became the place we quietly sent the unwanted. The backwater for those we couldn¡¯t trust, but couldn¡¯t abandon either. Even so, our castoffs were still world-class by most standards. So we made sure they lived in comfort. Close enough to watch. Far enough not to interfere.

    Our mutual protection agreement with Italy, which was still in effect even after all these years, also had cutouts for these types of things. It''s why Italy and Tulanto had so much history and tourism comparatively.

    At the time Italy thought it was making a deal with a rogue scientist in a shell state. They soon learned that AG had greater plans than just his own safety.

    In the days that followed the trial, we were busy running a global dragnet through our intel units¡ªtrying to locate, track, and isolate where Vincent¡ªcode-named ColdWind, we later found out¡ªmight be.

    I was pretty sure this was my very own Inspector Vincenzo Rinaldi. Most people used variant names as cover, and this one fit the classic infiltration scheme.

    Handholding me through Italy¡ªpossibly to lure me away from Mateo and his operation, if he could. Smart.

    I¡¯d pegged him as just another bureaucratic stooge.

    With my advanced pattern recognition and threat modeling, I should¡¯ve seen it. I knew watching for false flags constantly would turn me anti-social¡ªmaybe even psychopathic. But I couldn¡¯t help it. I still felt it.

    If I¡¯d snapped his neck back then¡­ maybe none of this shit would¡¯ve happened.

    Even with all the bullshit since the exile, Ey and I made time for ourselves. We took a quiet weekend down south¡ªone of the smaller beach towns we¡¯d built to attract tourists. Simple. Quiet. Sun, sea, and soft sheets. It felt earned.

    Poor Frank stepped up as the official Deputy of Domestic Security. Basically chief of police and Coast Guard admiral rolled into one. He reported to me¡ªmore formality than function¡ªbut I had my eyes aimed a little farther past our own coast these days.

    Mai and Shinya had been officially recognized as citizens of Tulanto and managed to snag a nice, open-spaced property near the House on the Hill¡ªgifted by His Majesty, who, for some reason, treated Mai more like family than subject.

    Not that I was jealous or anything¡ªI was dating a noble, after all.

    Mai was definitely going to get a nobility before me. I could feel it.

    Career-wise, she¡¯d stepped into Sir Mellon¡¯s shoes as his deputy with ease. His son, Hugh, seemed relieved; the man enjoyed being out in the field, bouncing from one safehouse to another like it was a lifestyle tour.

    Shinya was now officially Island-bound, and looked to be taking over training for our next-gen field operatives. Tulanto needed to reinvest in its ground-level intel assets, and this was the perfect role for someone with his particular skillset.

    Jane had left the island shortly after receiving her permanent body. A one-off bespoke chassis, designed to handle her unique CPU and neural architecture. The motor functions were second to none, and yes¡ªthere were some toys installed for emergencies. That body wasn¡¯t for field ops, though.

    Instead, she and Vance had collaborated to design mission-specific bodies that could be printed and activated at any of our global safe houses.

    Honestly? I think Vance was going to ask her out at some point.

    But the coward dropped the idea too easily.

    <hr>

    I was in my office, a small shoe box hoteling space somewhere in the basement of the administrative offices when my phone rang.

    On the phone was none other then my best friend in the world Reginald Tevanson, of Tuvalu security officially, unofficially my intelligence liaison -- I wonder if he gets two paychecks for that.

    "Hey Reggie, what do I have the pleasure of hearing from you today?" I said in a flat rote voice.

    "You son of a bitch! Why do you people keep sending your rejects to us?"

    "I''m assuming this is about Marva?" I asked.

    "Yes this is about Marva! She hasn''t even been here a month and all of my informants are reporting one or two moves from her already"

    "She''s a smart lady Reggie, I''d keep an eye on her."

    "Of course she''s smart, she''s Tulantian!"

    "Not anymore. Now she''s Tuvaluan and your problem. But I will say, if you need any resources for her let me know. I want her watched Reggie. And I want you doing the watching Reggie."

    "You''re not my boss Kay! You don''t--"

    "Yea, yea, we can do this dog and pony show or you can get what I''m saying. The heat is on, the Americans are running out of patience with not being the best and they are actively looking to undermine us, us being both of our nations -- we are tied at the hip regardless of if you like it or not. So this is what we will be doing. You and I will be having these calls monthly. You will ensure you know what shes doing -- I don''t care if you need to date her, but we use her to keep a pulse on them. Drop her small tech to peddle out, see who she makes friends with. Do you understand Reggie?"

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    He sighed, a long sigh, I wondered where he got such large lungs and then finally after a beat of silence gave a resigned "Yea, makes sense Kay. But remember you owe me. I''m not your subordinate here. This is a favor."

    "Tulanto runs on favors Reggie."

    <hr>

    AG had asked me to meet him in his office.

    He wasn¡¯t at his desk. Wasn¡¯t even inside, really.

    I found him near the edge of the patio¡ªout past the sliding mana-glass wall that opened the whole back of the building like it was breathing. Sunlight poured across the marble floors and spilled into the living garden beyond. I¡¯d seen this place a dozen times. It still didn¡¯t feel real.

    The House on the Hill wasn¡¯t a house. It was a damn habitat¡ªdivided by design into cordial directions.

    Layered terraces curved out like the steps of some ancient ziggurat, each level lush with flowering trees, shaded pools, and sculpted greenery that made you feel like the mountain had grown the building itself.

    Below us, the ocean stretched in molten orange beneath the late-day sun. The occasional shimmer of a mana whirlpool danced just inside our designated economic zone. Somewhere beyond, diplomatic ships drifted by¡ªpretending not to watch us too closely.

    AG stood with his back to me. Painting.

    An easel had been propped beneath a shaded alcove, angled just so, away from the salt air. A blank canvas had already become something else¡ªslow, deliberate strokes forming light and shadow, a coastal silhouette that wasn¡¯t far off from the real thing.

    ¡°Even kings need hobbies?¡± I said quietly.

    He didn¡¯t turn. Just cleaned his brush and nodded.

    ¡°I find clarity in translating the world into shapes,¡± he said. ¡°When you paint, you stop seeing names and histories. You only see weight. Distance. How a thing balances against light.¡±

    I stepped closer. The scent of ocean and oil paint hit like memory. ¡°You called me.¡±

    He set the brush aside and finally looked at me.

    ¡°Yes Kay,¡± AG said. ¡°The world is watching now. And I need you to start behaving like it.¡±

    ¡°I''m still security,¡± I said. ¡°not diplomacy--that''s State.¡±

    ¡°Incorrect,¡± he said, voice steady. ¡°You are security. Therefore, you are diplomacy.¡±

    He let the words hang a second, then added:

    ¡°How many Infiltrators are waiting in the Cave, Kay? Not fielded. Not printed. The real ones.¡±

    ¡°In all, sir?¡± I asked, thrown by the sudden pivot. He nodded once.

    ¡°Five thousand heavy models. Three thousand fast-response models. Fifteen hundred advanced models. Seven hundred and fifty vanguard types. Two hundred relay models for command and control. All mana-hardened. That doesn¡¯t include active Coast Guard units, Tuvalu security operatives, or our on-demand printers¡ªthough those are lesser quality.¡±

    He didn¡¯t blink.

    ¡°That¡¯s our security force, Kay. Do you not think that¡¯s reason enough for others to stay on the good diplomatic side of us?¡±

    He paused just long enough to let the numbers settle.

    ¡°That¡¯s five battalions of security, Kay. Not to mention our other trump cards¡ªthe ones we can¡¯t deploy without consequences. But these?¡± nodding toward the numbers as if Kay had drawn them on an invisible whiteboard between them. ¡°These we can.¡±

    I let that hang between us for a second. The ocean whispered under the cliffs.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a statesman.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he said, ¡°You¡¯re better. You¡¯re unfiltered. You don¡¯t care what the room thinks of you. You¡¯re a realist in a sea of theater. That¡¯s exactly what they¡¯ll respond to.¡±

    He walked toward the patio edge, looking out over the layers of Tulanto¡ªits labs, its towers, its people.

    ¡°The Japanese delegation arrives the day after tomorrow,¡± he said. ¡°They won¡¯t apologize for Mai. Or her fianc¨¦. They might even hint at asking for her back¡ªnot outright, of course. But they¡¯ll posture. Twist the blade, then act like they¡¯re offering us a clean slate. It¡¯s all a dance.¡±

    I frowned. ¡°You want me to dance?¡±

    ¡°I want you there as yourself. With Ey. With the team. I want them to see what strength actually looks like. Not weapons. Not tech. Will.¡±

    He sighed, probably tired of always having to explain his genius plans to plebeians like me.

    ¡°Look, Kay. We have all this in spades. But our only ally¡ªbesides Tuvalu, of course¡ªis Italy. And that¡¯s a strained relationship at best. We need to learn how to trust again. We need to open up a bit. But that doesn¡¯t mean a fire sale.¡±

    I frowned. ¡°This¡­ this is not usually my job.¡±

    ¡°It is now.¡±

    He folded his arms. The weight of it wasn¡¯t paternal. It was sovereign.

    ¡°We pruned the garden from our internal weeds,¡± he said. ¡°now help us protect it from the outside locust.¡±

    "Ok. But one question." I said to his nod.

    "Are you using the royal ''we'' in that last sentence or not?"

    He smiled, and took both my hands in his, looked me in the eyes and said "Alas, we will never know".

    <hr>

    TAI had arranged for tea.

    Which meant, of course, the timing was perfect, the garden was spotless, and the tea itself was precisely two degrees hotter than comfortable¡ªbecause anything else would¡¯ve been sloppy.

    We met on the west terrace near the reflecting pool, a quiet, breezy patch of calm built for diplomacy and posturing alike. A pair of low tables waited beneath the arched stone awning, each set with Tulanto-pressed ceramic and bite-sized sweets. The scent of lemongrass hovered in the air, stubborn but not overpowering.

    I was mostly there to observe. Mai had been asked. I had been included. There¡¯s a difference.

    She arrived dressed for comfort, but with purpose¡ªsoft linen wrap, comm band visible, tablet tucked under one arm. Not her usual field kit, but this wasn¡¯t a field op. This was what came after.

    TAI stood to greet her, smile just subtle enough to be genuine.

    ¡°Thank you for coming,¡± TAI said, always formal with Mai. ¡°Would you like green, black, or the jasmine infusion?¡±

    Mai raised an eyebrow. ¡°I was under the impression androids didn¡¯t entertain preferences.¡±

    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t we? They¡¯re your preferences, not ours. Aesthetic principles, yes?¡±

    Mai made a face and sat. ¡°Jasmine. Why not?¡±

    My Ey poured without another word. Losing herself in the moment. Simply enjoying the ritual. I took my seat last, still quiet. Still watching.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been reviewing the post-exile metrics,¡± TAI began, her tone sliding into that precise diplomatic register she used when talking with AG or foreign press. ¡°Our projections for regional sentiment have skewed higher than expected. A blend of fear and fascination. Useful, but unstable.¡±

    ¡°And you want my help stabilizing it?¡± Mai asked, taking a careful sip.

    ¡°No. I want your insight. You¡¯ve been where I cannot go. You¡¯ve felt things I cannot model. Kay can simulate, I can extrapolate¡ªbut you live it.¡±

    Mai glanced my way, then back to TAI.

    ¡°You could¡¯ve sent this request by packet. Hell, you could¡¯ve had Kay ask me. Why this?¡± she asked gesturing to the tea.

    Ey¡¯s eyes flicked toward the horizon, her voice softening.

    ¡°Because we¡¯re past metrics now. This is the part where stories begin. And I don¡¯t want us to write the wrong one.¡±

    That got a pause.

    Mai leaned back slightly and cautiously asked ¡°So what¡¯s the version you¡¯re afraid of?¡±

    ¡°That we become just another nation with a stockpile. Seen not for what we build, but only for what we can unleash. For what we could take, not what we give back to humanity.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re already seen that way.¡±

    ¡°Yes, by the loudest¡± Ey said. ¡°but not by everyone. Not yet. That window is narrowing.¡±

    I stayed silent. I could¡¯ve added a dozen operational factors to the mix. Field assessments, diplomatic overtures, policy triggers. But this wasn¡¯t about the grid. This was about tone. About vision.

    About trust.

    TAI¡ªno, Ey, when no one else was around¡ªturned to me briefly.

    ¡°I know what AG wants us to be. But I also know what we can be. And you¡ªboth of you¡ªare the closest things this island has to a conscience.¡±

    I smiled with a small laugh.

    Mai outright scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s rich.¡±

    ¡°Conscience doesn¡¯t require virtue. Just awareness.¡±

    That shut us both up.

    For a moment, it was just tea. Sipping. Wind. Distant sea birds screaming like they¡¯d been briefed on global politics.

    Then Mai spoke again.

    ¡°So what¡¯s the ask here?¡±

    TAI folded her hands. ¡°Be visible. Be thoughtful. Show that strength can be thoughtful. Let them see you as something besides a security risk. Let them see why Tulanto has never needed to poach¡ªbecause we simply wait until you ask to join.¡± she said gesturing to Mai.

    ¡°Easy ask,¡± Mai said. ¡°Hard act.¡±

    Ey smiled. Just a little. ¡°That¡¯s why Kay will be the android sword and shield to your human olive branch.¡±

    I watched the exchange unfold like a play I hadn¡¯t rehearsed for.

    ¡°We¡¯re attending the delegation, yes¡­ but we¡¯re engaging in the talks openly as an android-and-human team?¡± I asked.

    Ey nodded. ¡°Yes. Publicly.¡±

    Mai looked at me. ¡°Good. I''m clean up prettier any way.¡±

    ¡°Confirmed,¡± Ey said, straight-faced.

    I just sipped my tea.

    It was still too hot.