Chapter 3 - Canyon
Serenity Police Department (SPD)
One month after The Escape of Boeson
Canyon Wheeling hunched over his desk in ‘the bunker’, the underground office he shared with his brother, and pounded away at his keyboard, writing computer code from scratch. He typed in one last line—
then banged on the desk.
Done, he thought, satisfaction filling him. Years of work and Predator is finally finished. Now to test it out.
He opened a computer folder marked ‘Experimental from Chicago University’ containing a new kind of software called a ‘large language model’ that would allow him to talk to Predator in plain language.
Canyon took a few moments to interface the two programs, then he typed a ‘plain language’ command into Predator.
‘Predator, turn on your voice equipment and listen perpetually for your name. Respond to anything I say that seems to be directed to you.’
Predator’s response flashed across the screen.
:Yes Creator—
Canyon grinned, then said, “Predator, call me Canyon.”
:Yes Canyon—
“Predator, give me a status report.”
Predator listed several available statuses, like SPD duty rosters and cellblock occupancy, but they all sounded boring.
“Forget the status report. Find my brother.”
An image of Timber in uniform showed up on-screen along with his vital information.
Timber Wolfgang Wheeling. 35 years old. 6’5’’, 229 lbs. Dark brown hair.
Multiple voices sounded through the system’s speakers, as Predator accessed authorized, and not-so-authorized, microphones throughout the building.
At the same time, four images of SPD flashed on the screen, then were replaced by four more images.
Hallways in building A, hallways in building B, the parking lots, the cellblock, the receiving desk, dispatch—.
The images stopped switching, and the voices were cut off.
Image number two of four showed Timber in uniform, hurrying down a dark hallway hand-in-hand with a pretty female with long red hair, wearing a dispatcher’s uniform.
Their steps were quiet but audible. They entered a door, then closed it and locked it.
:Timber is in meeting room Foxtrot—
“Any cameras in there?” Canyon asked, pretty sure the answer was no.
:Negative—
“Any microphones?”
Predator didn’t answer right away. Canyon checked the log files to see what the problem was. Predator had encountered its first problem: it located a mic on the Smart TV, but it wasn’t attached to the official SPD sound system, so Predator searched for access, then a beep sounded.
:Yes, on the television—
Grinning like a proud papa, Canyon said, “Listen in.”
The speakers filled with a humming sound.
:Accomplished—
Canyon put his head up next to his computer speakers, thinking he heard a female sigh. Timber murmured something barely intelligible, something like ‘you taste sweet...’
With his head closer to the monitor, Canyon noticed something interesting in one of the images: Timber’s name written in longhand on a sticky note on a desk.
“Predator, zoom in on the paper on the desk in image one.”
:Accomplished—
Canyon scanned over the form, discovering a dispatcher had been warned twice for fraternizing with Timber during her breaks and if she was caught again, she’d be fired.
Movement in image two grabbed Canyon’s attention. It was the dispatch supervisor, a human, and he was heading for the door Timber and the female had gone in.
Timber, get her out of there, her boss is looking for her, Canyon projected to his brother in telepathic ruhi.
Rhen, is that you? Timber replied.
No joke. You’ll get her fired. Use the back door, her supervisor is almost at the one you went in.
Okay, okay.
Soft voices and sounds of movement came through the speakers.
“Predator, track Timber when he comes out of the back door of the meeting room and keep eyes on the guy in image two.”
:Acknowledged—
Image three switched to another empty hallway.
In image two, the dispatch supervisor reached the first door.
Finding it locked, he pulled out a key ring and picked through keys, finding the one he wanted and putting it in the lock.
From the other end of the hallway, another male approached.
It was Mac, their sergeant. He saw the dispatch supervisor and did a quick U-turn, pulling his phone out of his pocket and pressing it to his ear.
Too late—the dispatch supervisor spotted him.
“Sergeant Niles!” he yelled, leaving his keys in the lock to run down the hallway after Mac.
In image three, a door opened and Timber and the female came out, their arms around each other. Timber pulled the door closed and steered the female down another empty hallway.
Thanks, Timber said.
Thank Predator. I finished coding it finally and the first thing it did was find you.
I’m telling you, call it Wulf.
Nah. Too cliché.
In image two, Mac reluctantly stopped and turned around, a scowl on his face. He crossed his arms and widened his stance.
“Sergeant Niles! Your KSRT officer, Timber Wheeling, is canoodling my dispatcher again.”
“Give it a rest, Bob. Timber’s working.”
“Yeah, working on getting in my dispatcher’s pants.”
Mac only stared at the male, arms still crossed. His lip twitched, showing his teeth for a moment.
“He’s with her right now—in the meeting room! You go to the other door, and I’ll chase him out and then you’ll have to do something about it.”
Mac said nothing. He waved his hand that way. The dispatch supervisor turned and hurried back to the door, key at the ready, expression eager. Mac followed, then passed him, turning left at the next hallway.
Timber, here comes Mac.
I think we’re caught.
Duck into tunnel 12.
Civilians aren’t allowed in the tunnels.
They sure aren’t. Canyon laughed. He opened a desk drawer and rummaged around until he found a Cracker Jack box. He put his feet up on the desk and threw popcorn into his mouth, watching the screen.
Timber pulled the dispatcher in close and locked lips with her, then backed up to a door marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
Help a wolf out, he said.
“Predator, open the door to Tunnel 12.”
The door whooshed open and Timber walked the dispatcher inside, still kissing her, and the door slid shut. Mac appeared at the other end of the hallway and stopped at the door to the breakroom. It opened and the dispatch supervisor came out, his expression furious.
“They were in here.”
Mac said nothing, only stared at the dispatch supervisor, a scowl on his face.
The guy shook his head and wagged a finger in Mac’s face. “If I didn’t know better, Sergeant, I’d say you were helping him.”
Mac looked like he’d had enough. “And if I didn’t know better, Bobbo, I’d say you forgot who the hell you’re talking to.”
The other male stared at Mac for a moment like maybe he wanted to respond but then thought better of it. He turned and hurried down the hallway toward dispatch.
Mac looked up until he found a surveillance camera on the ceiling. He flipped it off with both hands, pointed at it aggressively, then took off down the hallway.
Canyon laughed and called Timber in ruhi. You’re in trouble with Mac.
I can handle Mac.
Canyon told Predator to open the door again and Timber guided the dispatcher out, still kissing her. He twirled her slowly down the hallway, then broke the kiss. He picked up her hands and kissed them while she melted.
“Same place tomorrow,” he told her. “Text me when you go on your break.”
She smiled at him, gave him a kiss on the cheek, then walked away. Timber watched her go, then he scanned the hallway until he found the same camera Mac had flipped off. He gave it a thumbs up, then went back to the tunnel door and put his eye up to the retina scanner. It opened and he went in.
Canyon laughed, shook his head, and returned to his work.