Chapter 25: Androids and Drones

  It was getting late as Carlisle drove around South Encinar on the most boring patrol I’d ever seen. Up one street, down another with the windows half-open so we could hear the life-filled city. He was on the lookout for gunfire or screaming. Didn't really matter which of the two, because trouble follows them both.

  I just wanted something to happen. As he turned left onto 17th Street, I leaned my elbow on the door and rested my head on my palm. A police helicopter slowly circled the city, likewise looking for anything out of the ordinary. The rotor thump reverberated off the buildings and made it sound like there were two of them. We passed by advertisements I barely paid attention to before, but now?

  I had nothing else to look at, because Carlisle was dragging me around the city until near sun up.

  We passed by a building half-covered with an electronic billboard showing off the latest ‘mortal safe’ vampire soft drink. Fizzy and bubbly. The bright pinkish-red can of lite imitation blood claimed to give mortals, and vampires, the energy to stay up all day.

  Lite Blood… As if the cans needed to be any thinner than the manure Caleb drank. At least he gave the other vampires full-blood cans. But if mortals could drink the cans and ‘feel like a vampire’ then it is no wonder they were hardly filling. Probably not even made with the right ingredients.

  Across the street was an animated billboard showing off a beautiful woman dressed in her nature-given form. Her copper skin looked perfect as she lay across a bed she was advertising, blanket barely covering her modesty between her legs and nothing else. I don’t even know what the company was, because the model they had chosen was just that beautiful to look at. And there was nothing left to the imagination. They showed off her voluptuous bosom and the way her hair draped over her body onto the bed. The video billboard even showed off how her elbows pressed into the fluffy bed.

  It was inviting even if I didn't use a bed.

  There were other advertisements as we continued down 17th Street. They ranged from small human-sized signs at eye level to an airship making the rounds above the buildings with lights dancing across the hull. Everyone had something to say, including the scrolling words on the airship. Most were mundane with one advertising weapons, and another advertising a new life abroad for vampires and mortals alike. All they had to do was sign a six year work contract.

  So many lights and so much information made everything into a headache-inducing mess of brightness. One that even my hunger tried to shield me from by making me focus on the people walking on the sidewalk instead of the wondrous lights.

  They wandered the streets in droves, which was a far cry from before I went into torpor where everyone was asleep at this hour. Now almost every business ran 24/7, except for a few that advertised no vampires allowed.

  I was about to ask why some businesses refused to sell to vampires when we passed by a 24/7 cybernetics shop. A place where you can get ‘chromed out’ for a few credits. Through the windows, I saw a man holding a gun to the clerk’s face.

  We could avoid it, as Carlisle wasn't looking that way, but he may be angry if he finds out I saw it and didn't tell him. I was supposed to be a deputy for a couple nights. I reached for the door handle as I said, “Stop the car! Stop! There's a man with a gun.”

  Carlisle snapped his head in my direction as he hit the brakes. We came to a rough, tire screeching stop. He followed my gaze, but I was already climbing out of the car and running for the shop.

  I could have approached quietly, but I didn't know if the door had a bell attached to it. It probably did, because any respectable shop would want to know when someone comes inside. The door didn't look like one that opened on its own, thankfully, as it didn't have the caution sticker.

  The shop was brightly lit and there were no shadows to teleport into. The only thing I could do was draw my pistol with one hand and grab the door with the other. Someone had thankfully put the word ‘pull’ right on the handle, so that's what I did. I yanked the door open as fast as I could and slipped inside, bringing the pistol up.

  “Encinar Police!” I yelled at the thief, almost flubbing the line, because since when am I a cop?!

  He glanced over his shoulder. The clerk dove behind the counter.

  “Drop the weapon!” I ordered as I stared into his covered eyes. He wore dark sunglasses and a mask covering the lower half of his face with a hood to cover his hair.

  The thief snapped his fingers, disappearing with a pop and a flash of golden light.

  Carlisle finally caught up. The man made far, far too much noise to hear if the perpetrator had merely become invisible or teleported.

  “Is he gone?!” the clerk yelled, voice echoing from behind the counter.

  Carlisle nudged me past the door and whispered, “Sweep the premises for others.”

  Shotgun raised, the man went to the right toward a pair of washrooms while I went left to a door to the back.

  Behind my door was a clinically white hallway with a pair of medical advertisements on the wall. One talked about proper healing when it came to cybernetic enhancements and the other talked about how a replacement heart could be a life saver.

  I tried to ignore them, but the fact that they were selling mechanical hearts that kept people alive was strange. Just who was the first person to get one, and did it succeed?

  The mortals were playing with fire. Alas, I could not stay to read the details, as there might be other hostiles about. One System display off to the left of my vision showed me a sound meter as I moved swiftly and silently. In the upper right of my vision, I had the minimap showing as it continuously updated the building's layout. They were distractions, but useful ones, because it showed Carlisle's dot in one of the other rooms as he called out that it was clear.

  t was quiet in the back, almost too quiet. Something had to be there. Another person or a patient. It couldn't just be the lone mortal up front, because there needed to be someone to run the register in the event the mortal had to defecate or do any actual work.

  I kept an ear out for heartbeats or movement as I tried the first door handle. It was unlocked, which was good. I cracked it open and stepped back, aiming around the empty room, before pushing it open all the way.

  Since no one was in the immediate vicinity, I got a good long look at the exam table where they had white paper covering the bed, uncomfortable looking chairs to one side and a sink on the other. Cabinets lined the bright walls while anatomically correct replicas of organs sat on the counter. The room was eerily familiar as I stared at the uncrumpled paper that I knew felt awkward to lay on. I looked up at the drop down lights hanging over the table. Again, that dream of the doctors talking about cores popped into my head. It could be because I was watching a show about a sentient ship, but I don't recall a view in the show that matched it.

  Another thing to figure out later.

  After checking behind the bed and door, I tried the next room, and the one after that. All three were clear, which felt awkward, because again. There had to be another mortal. It just didn't sit right that there was only one person when I knew better.

  I pushed open the fourth door and again. Nothing. By this time, Carlisle had called out the front was clear. I refused to give that designation to the back.

  They had an empty wash room as well as a few storage closets and one room containing stores of blood next to a workshop of robotic limbs and parts. Sitting there at the workbench in the center of the room was a person I hesitate to call mortal. For their arms were brightly painted metal along with most of their skull. Long elf-shaped robotic ears hung off their head, including a few earrings and a necklace.

  They set their tools down and slowly held their hands in the air without looking behind them. “I am Doctor Granite,” they said in a smooth human-like voice. “And you are intruding on my work.”

  “Deputy Tully,” I replied and held my deputy badge up. Carlisle had given me a necklace to wear along with it. “South Encinar P.D.”

  “How might I serve the fine upstanding department today?” They slowly pushed themself away from the table and turned around to face me. Their mechanical orange eyes were extremely strange and mesmerizing, almost pulling me toward the softly glowing crosshairs for pupils.

  I slowly lowered the pistol as I looked into Granite’s warm gaze, which changed to question marks for pupils just before I spoke. “What are you…?” I whispered.

  “How can I help you, Deputy?” The person cocked their head. A white lab coat with rolled up sleeves covered their torso while their dark pants kept the stains away. They had hardly any skin, except a few minor patches, leading me to think they might be a robot. But I’ve never seen one in the flesh. Only heard about them.

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  “Did you know you were being robbed?”

  The good doctor shook their head as they set their hands in their lap. “Did you catch the perp?”

  “No.”

  “Then your job is done.” Granite spun back around to the table and picked up a smoking metal pen and an extremely thin silver wire.

  “What are you doing?”

  The doctor sighed heavily, setting the items down again. “I am trying to solder a resistor onto this hand I am building for a customer. Leave. Me. Alone.”

  “One last question,” I began, knowing it would bug the doctor, but I had to know the answer to it. “Those eyes of yours are cybernetics, yes?”

  “Astute observation, Deputy.” They rested their head in their hands and stared at the wall of tools ahead of them. “If you keep asking questions, I may just scoop yours out and add them to my collection.”

  The eyes would just grow back. It might take a month or two, but they’d regrow. I once regrew a hand someone chopped off, as they thought it was funny. They laughed right up until I sliced their head from their shoulders.

  “Can I get a gun installed in my arm?”

  The doctor scoffed, shaking their head from side to side. “I am a cybernetics expert, Deputy. I can put you in a construct’s body and you’d never know unless I let you know. Now—”

  “Even though I’m a vampire?”

  His irises turned to exclamation points as he glared. “What part of Expert don't you understand? I am an S-rank cybernetics doctor. My B-rank assistant can help with any questions regarding your inquiries and appointments. Please leave.”

  I nodded slowly and turned around, finding Carlisle had finally caught up and was standing less than two feet away. The vampire was just fucking watching me! If he expected me to jump back in fright he was sorely mistaken. I holstered my pistol as I said, “We’re clear here. Let’s go.”

  “Why do you want a gun in your arm?” he asked.

  “It was just a question!”

  Carlisle watched me push past him and walk back toward the front door. I’ll come back and ask the attendant about cybernetic eyes once I’ve done my research. Or asked Dinner. The half-elf’s company already worked with cybernetics and likely may be able to get me situated with some for cheaper.

  *** ***

  I had Carlisle take me home, which he thankfully did. The man even followed me inside to see what my apartment was like, because he was curious and disappointed at what I had.

  His reply was a basic, “There's nothing here.”

  I shook my head from side to side. “I moved in last night.”

  “I thought there would have been… more. You're supposed to be an elder, not a fledgling.” He looked into the practically empty washroom, then rummaged through the kitchen for anything to make food with.

  Why would I need pots and pans? Unless I was trying to look like a blood sack when I wasn't, then they weren't needed.

  Carlisle found the blood cake and pointed at this. “Who made this?”

  “A neighbor.” Who is very nosy and was likely already trying to listen through the door. Although, I couldn't hear any heartbeats, so perhaps they were back in their room.

  The policeman stepped close to the cake and pointed to it. “May I?” he asked.

  I smiled, nodding. Better that he taste it first than me.

  Carlisle went through a few drawers, looking for utensils and plates but, of course, he found only a knife. I watched from the main area where I sat on the floor next to a duffel bag of my things, phone in hand and a paused episode of Tortuga Chronicles waiting for me. Carlisle frowned as he closed the final cupboard, picked up the cake slice with his bare hands and bit into it.

  I tilted my head as I waited for his response, which was a face scrunching reply. Eyes clamped shut, the man slowly chewed through the soft cake and nodded a couple of times. He chased it down with a drink from a blood can and then gasped.

  “That's too sweet for me,” he replied. I waited for him to vomit and run off like Caleb had, according to Cassandra’s memories, but the man stayed put and licked his chops instead. He blinked a few times and shook his head. “Way, way too sweet.”

  I lifted an eyebrow in confusion as I got up and went over to taste it myself. It had some sweetness to it, but nothing like he was describing. The texture was soft, crumbly and melted in my mouth. I turned away from the man so he didn't stare as I chewed until the cake became liquid that I gulped down.

  “It's not bad,” I pointed out, shrugging.

  He threw his hands up and turned for the door. “Well, I’m not an elder, so what do I know?!”

  I cut more off to nibble on, set my phone on the counter and waved at Carlisle. He, of course, left without saying anything aside from, “See you tomorrow.”

  I sighed through my nose. Carlisle is why you don't enter an arrangement with another vampire unless you have no other choice.

  I watched the rest of episode six of Tortuga Chronicles, followed by seven and eight until I felt the morning sun creeping over the horizon. I could have stayed awake and watched nine through twelve, but I was tired. I was worn out. All I wanted to do was crawl inside my coffin and sleep, but again. I had none!

  After checking the locks and ensuring the window blinds were clamped down, I sat in the corner of the main room to watch episode nine and fell asleep.

  My dream was annoying, because I found myself at a desk with an incomprehensible amount of paperwork piled atop it. As soon as I filed away one piece, seven more were added! I worked as fast as I could to go through it all, not really paying attention to the names because they kept changing.

  Soon, I had a crowd gathered around me. All of them watching and laughing, but I kept working. I kept working right up until something slammed into my back with enough force to snap me from the dream.

  My eyes flicked open as I let out a gasp. I sat up from the floor and looked around, listening for anyone in the room. All I heard were voices coming from my phone as episode fifteen played out in my lap. The cell phone burned as I picked it up and turned off the video application.

  It was 2:15 in the afternoon, according to the phone and the way my body looked like a corpse that should be buried. While Eva’s body was withered slightly before I took over, it was now much, much closer to what I remembered. Like something out of a horror film about zombies without the blood.

  “No! No! No!” a panicked slightly muffled voice yelled from the apartment next door. She screamed in fright as she added, “Where is he? Where is he?! Fuck! Fuck! Flare! Flare! Flare!”

  I grabbed my pistol and rushed for the door, but my movements were slowed. It felt like I ran through mud with each heavy step. My body wanted to go back to sleep, but my mind said there was a woman in trouble. I had to help her. I had to stop her attacker.

  I flung my door open, remembering that the hallway had no windows in it, because it was a vampire-safe apartment complex. They built it to accommodate my weaknesses and ensure that I had an easy escape should something happen during the day. According to the landlord, the escape routes led to an underground tunnel system rather than the outside. As per Encinar code.

  The screaming stopped by the time I reached my neighbor’s door. I slammed a sluggish palm against it, shouting, “Encinar P.D! Open up!”

  As that is what a cop would do. Hopefully. Maybe. At least in the Tortuga Chronicles.

  No. They’d kick the door in.

  Well, I didn't.

  I thumped my palm against the door until the woman shouted, “It’s open, officer!”

  Pushing the door open, I crept inside with the pistol raised and safety off. My unsteady steps stumbled their way through the doorway and the short hallway past an identical kitchen to mine, except for empty food packaging and unclean dishes sitting on the counter and in the sink.

  The heavy stench of freshly cooked mortal food clung to the air, sending my gut churning at the thought of eating such nasty cuisine. It was fairly dark aside from a few spotlights around a strange contraption built around a chair.

  Speakers played a constant rumbling around the seated figure, who wasn't even looking in my direction as I approached the odd chair. It reminded me of Dinner’s mech controls from the photographs I had seen of them; a comfortable chair with so many switches and buttons alongside, and in front of the figure. I couldn't make sense of it in my groggy daytime state.

  The woman held a button filled stick in her right hand and a sliding stick in her left. Ahead of her was a screen showing a vast daytime desert with a bright blue sky. On the screen was a heads-up display showcasing flight information according to the memories I dredged up.

  A cat eared helmet covered the woman’s head and blocked the upper half of her face with a solid visor. The television screen in front of the woman focused on a flaming vehicle tumbling toward the ground.

  “Alright, chat,” the woman began, looking in my direction at a downward angle. It mimicked what was shown on the display screen. “I think we got him. Let's check on the ground units and see if they are okay.”

  “Excuse me,” I said as I uselessly held up my badge. “What is going on here?”

  “I’m working, officer. What's it look like?”

  “Working?” I looked at the display, and then the monitor next to it where a website showed exactly what was on the big display. Down in the bottom left of the new screen was a view of the woman in her tank top as she sat in her fancy chair. It seemed to be playing minute old events as the woman dodged and rolled her flying machine around in a frantic fight against another until she gained the upper hand.

  The woman held a finger up for me to wait and spoke with a clear tone, “Target three is splashed. Rumble House, you're free to advance. I’ve got two unidentified bogies on my radar twenty kilometers to the north, heading east by northeast. Be advised, Gamma Two and I will have to intercept if they come any closer.”

  The reply was impossible for me to hear, but the woman's rapidly beating heart thundered in my foggy brain. Clearly, she wasn't in any danger like I initially thought.

  I felt stupid for believing her to be in danger, but investigating when someone screams was always a good thing. Even when not working as a cop. You might just save a mortal from a vampire killing them.

  I checked the other display again as the woman turned her aircraft and followed a road. Now, I showed up on the second display, but of course it was showing how I looked in a reflection. Vaguely humanoid shaped void of darkness and tentacles with glowing eyes. A look I came to know as normal, but it was different. Curvier now. It made me smile.

  People with various colorful names were talking about events on screen. A few were spamming the chat in an attempt to tell the woman to lift her visor. A few larger messages showed up with fancy effects and everything.

  One said, Lift your visor and look at the cop, woman!

  “What?” the woman asked as she looked at the main screen and resumed flying. “Why do I need to lift my visor? It's just a cop.”

  I folded my arms across my chest and frowned, tapping a foot on the ground, digging my toes into it. “What is going on?” I asked.

  “A mercenary company out in the Mojave hired me for close air support. My Drone Operator and Vehicular Weapon license is on my computer desk, officer.”

  I cocked my head. I wasn't interested in her licenses. I was more interested on what the fuck she was doing! “Is this real or a video game?”

  “It's real,” she replied, finally turning her head to look at me. “I have a streaming… license, too…” the woman’s voice trailed off as she lifted her visor and a set of light green cat-like eyes met mine. “Oh.” A nervous smile crept over her lips. I knew why. I looked like a fucking zombie and felt like it. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep and wake up in a few years.

  The woman half-turned her head. “Chat… why didn't you tell me the officer is a fucking vampire?!” She giggled slightly. “I am terribly sorry, ma’am! Did my yelling wake you?”

  “No, actually. I was already awake.” I tapped a foot on the ground for a moment as my eyes went from one display screen to the other. Then her unusual control system. “Aren't you worried about your enemies finding you? You’re broadcasting this live, right?”

  The woman shook her head. “Why would I be worried? Everyone livestreams in the Mojave, officer. How else are us plebeians who aren't immortal supposed to make money and fight in the Big Arena?”

  “So you are… on a battlefield right now?” I pointed a finger toward the main display.

  The woman nodded. “Yes. In the Mojave Desert. My ship and her backup are standard Mark Nine Heavy Support Drones.”

  “And you're not worried about your enemies finding your exact location through the broadcast?” I scratched the back of my head. It sounded like a logical thing to do.

  “There are laws against that, Officer. Anyone caught stream sniping or using it for intelligence gathering is fined three million credits, or a hundred thousand gold, thrown in jail for two decades, and has their combat classes stripped from them.”

  I shook my head at the nonsense. “I apologize for interrupting you. I thought you were in trouble.”

  She shrugged. “You’re not the first. It's why I… hang on.” The woman slid her visor down and looked ahead again. “Huh?!” The woman glanced in my direction again. “What do you mean she looks like an Eldritch Horror?! She’s a half-elf, chat!” Then the woman looked from her second display to me and back again.

  I tilted my head a bit.

  The cat woman lifted her visor and stared at the second screen. “Holy shit… what kind of cosmetic do you have that does that to your reflection?”

  “Hm? Everyone acts… like that.” I shook my head. All I wanted to do was sleep. The pull of the sun was becoming too great, so I closed my eyes and that was that. It was like someone threw a switch and my world went black.