Chapter 15
Electra
“Excellent,” the inspector continues. “Forensic sketches aren’t sufficient evidence to get a warrant, but they might lead to more concrete evidence.
Now, while the incident is fresh in your minds, I’d like us to try a forensic sketch artist generative AI tool.
” She raises the tablet for emphasis. “Please describe the men to the best of your ability, then I’m going to show you the images and we can tweak them from there. ”
Electra sits forward. She’s excellent at describing the details of a character’s appearance, so perhaps she can do this. Especially considering she has the images of the robbers burned into her mind.
He squeezes her hand. “Electra, would you like to start?”
His trust in her to help with the investigation gives her a flutter of pride.
Nothing else is fluttering, Electra. Just because he’s reassuringly holding your hand doesn’t mean anything.
The gist is that she feels relatively confident about this task.
So, determined not to use any of her usual flowery language and accidentally seem human, she says, “The man who we’re calling the leader was around seventy-three inches tall.
Large, muddy-brown hooded eyes. They were wide-set and slightly down-turned.
His skin was pale and looked like it would easily burn, but eventually tan.
His black hair was short and curled slightly at the ends. ”
“I thought you said the ID Scramble-Tech visors covered the tops of their heads?” Inspector Wanda cuts in to ask.
“Go on,” Res6 says, gesturing with his free hand for her to continue.
“They did, but between the neckcloth and the visor, a lock slipped free.” The inspector nods in understanding.
“Though the lower half of his face was concealed, I could still make out the shape of his nose, which I would call Roman, and the bone structure of his jaw, which was square with a jutting chin. His head was a little blocky too.”
“Roman?” the inspector asks.
“Yeah. Prominent and narrow but with a hooked bridge.”
“What about his build besides his height?”
She closes her eyes, trying to recall. “He wasn’t bulky, but he didn’t have tight muscles like Res6. Somewhere in the middle, I think.” Res6’s thumb rubs hers encouragingly. “Oh! His hands were rough and thick, with fingers on the shorter side, and there was sparse black hair on his knuckles.”
“Good. That should be enough to get us a starting image.” Using the stylus, the inspector taps the tablet a few times before turning it to face them. There’s an image of a man that looks eerily similar to the man she remembers on the screen.
“His eyes are a little too down-turned. And I remember his nose being larger. The lips, I couldn’t tell at all, so I have no idea if they might have been that full,” she says.
Inspector Wanda nods. “I’ll include that in the metadata. What else?”
They go on like that for an hour, with Res6 occasionally chiming in details she missed, until they have three reasonably accurate composites of the robbers.
When the inspector finally leaves, she tells them, “I’ll input the images into MSP’s surveillance system and notify you if anyone is flagged.
If so, I’ll need you again for identification.
” Electra can’t help but notice that Inspector Wanda only makes eye contact with Res6 as she adds, “I’ll be in touch. ”
It might be slightly offensive if it weren’t such a relief that she believed Electra’s a manupartner. What a day. All she wants to do is crawl into bed and forget about being held at gunpoint.
As Res6 walks her through the hallways, they pass other officers, presumably sweeping the premises as instructed. They enter a corridor lined with several sets of bright red double doors that she doesn’t recognize. “Wait, where are we going?”
“The corrections department.”
She stops, yanking him to a halt. “I’ve had enough for today. I’m ready to leave the scene of the crime.” The scene that all but confirms the world isn’t a safe place. It wasn’t back then and it isn’t now. Lucky me! She mentally glares at her inner narrator.
A distinct feminine voice echoes through the hallway, interrupting her protest. “I’m pretty sure Daddy’s office isn’t on this floor either. Since you’re his assistant, shouldn’t you know its location?”
Tommy groans. “I told you to stay where I put you.”
“But that storage room was dark, and Daddy said to put me in his office.” The pair step around the corner into view. Chryl’s head snaps up. “There they are!”
Tommy rushes after Chryl, who happily skips ahead.
Res6 sidesteps Chryl as she tries to hug him. “Chryl, why didn’t you stay where Tommy asked you to?”
Chryl stomps, crossing her arms. “I wanted to help too!”
A bead of sweat trickles down Tommy’s brow. “Really, it’s fine, sir. Just a minor inconvenience. I can continue watching her.”
Electra bites her lip trying to stifle a laugh as Chryl stares daggers at the two men.
If she weren’t so exhausted from the trauma of the day, she might join in their ridiculous antics and take Chryl’s side.
Even though manupartners aren’t really real like she is, they aren’t robots either—as far as she can tell.
“No need,” Res6 says, shaking his head. “She can come with me. I need you to get with Lextr and compile a summary of the losses—specifically from the BioBank—plus the damages, including a report of the affected staff. Set up meetings with them tomorrow so I can reassure them that measures are being taken to ensure their safety. Get with Karik to initiate the inspectors’ recommended security protocols.
I want that done before you leave for the day. ”
Tommy gulps as Chryl shoots him a smug look. “Yes, sir.”
Electra jumps as Res6 slides a firm arm around her waist. “Good. Go. We’re going to the corrections department. I need to heal this.” He gestures to the scorched black spot on his tan jumpsuit.
Guilt slices through her. That’s right, he got shot.
She was so focused on her own issues that she didn’t consider his injury might need healing.
Not to mention the pain he must be in. He’s been so stoic throughout this entire ordeal—plus comforting her—that her heart squeezes.
She wraps her arm around him in return. “Come on. Let’s go. ”
As they turn to pace down the hallway, Chryl falls in behind them, clapping. “Corrections department? Oh, goody. I’ve been a bad girl.”
An hour later, they are twenty-seven minutes into their separate treatment programs, seated in cushy chairs—like at the dentist—inside transparent, sealed treatment pods facing each other.
Chryl is watching what she described as a murder documentary on one of the particle panes they use as giant monitors in the adjacent room.
Electra wanted to take longer to inspect every piece of medical equipment and ask the million questions she had, but the desire to leave this place won out.
Better to get it over with quickly. Still, she only crawled into her assigned chamber to begin the DNA scrubbing process after being thoroughly convinced the procedure wouldn’t hurt.
Now she and Res6 are facing each other through thick panes of glass, each in their own healing chambers.
They seem to be engaged in a staring contest, which she has no intention of losing.
“You’re really into my freckles,” she teases loudly enough that he can hear through the pod’s glass and hoping it causes him to blink first.
He must not know the game because he doesn’t hesitate as he rolls his eyes. “Are you just blurting out all your thoughts now? Is that something people did during your time?”
She can’t help but return the eye roll.
“Should I try it?” He shrugs as if he’s really considering it.
“Yes!” she shouts. Anything to distract her while the program finishes.
“You’re really into snuggling against my chest,” he shouts.
The smile slips from her face. Does that freak him out? Was he only holding her to stop her from crying? And if so, why did it feel so real? So right?
The corner of his mouth tips up, like he’s nervous that he’s said the wrong thing.
“I do, it seems,” she finally says.
His smile blossoms like she’s given him hope. Shit. Did she mean to do that?
“I think that means you like either me, my shirts, or my chest. All three?” he asks, earning him another eye roll. He laughs. “You’re cheating. You can’t roll your eyes twice. You’ve already used that gesture.”
“You’re demented,” she says, and they go back to staring at each other.
His eyes twinkle. The momentary reprieve from her heavier emotions brought on by his teasing is causing disorienting things to happen in her body. Warm, floating sensations she’s pretty sure aren’t a side effect of the healing. She’s fairly certain they’re caused by him.