[Author's note: I've been releasing parts of a novel I started over a decade ago with a friend of mine. The only surviving copy was one I had printed on blue paper and left in a folder that had a picture of a sports car on it. I think it was a Lamborghini. Anyway, I have resisted every urge to edit this as I re-read and type it in. A listing of all available parts is here. Next week will get to the place where we stopped writing.]
Darrien sat at his desk looking over the measly pile of trinkets he had taken from Johnson before sending him over to processing for interrogation and placement. He wasn’t dead, but thanks to Darrien, he wouldn’t walk for a while, either. Darrien was really more confused than anything else, Johnson’s recent Supermarket raid made about as much sense to Darrien as a dry noodle in a Chinese laundry, or a national turnip craze for that matter. Johnson was just to big! Too well used to resort to petty thievery. Johnson’s pockets hadn’t provided any answers either. Nothing but and empty wallet, National Security ID, a few library cards, and a king of hearts. It was a silver king of hearts true, but what that meant Darrien could only guess. That was it, no names, no phone numbers, no car keys, not even a health club membership. Darrien had bubkiss and he knew it. With the capture of Johnson under his belt he was expecting national coverage, that meant promotion possibilities, and maybe a new car.
“Lt. Darrien Xaiver’s office?” came a noise from the vid-com as a picture came into focus.
“Speak to me.” Darrien toyed with the pearl handled single action Colt 45 Blazer Johnson had used.
“I’m doctor Phelps. I was Mr. Johnson’s medical examiner after you brought him in.”
Darrien put down the gun. “What is it?”
“My scan indicates Mr. Johnson has a W-715 organic/metallic link chip in his left cerebrum.”
“So? A lot of cons have those.”
“Right, they can relay any number of messages to one’s subconscious mind and also…”
“Blood tests showed traces of some unknown serum. To make a long story short, by the time I tried to download the data from his chip this chemical warped and destroyed most of the information in it. So I did some work on the mystery serum and I found it to be fairly similar to some of today’s most popular recreational drugs. But the weird thing is, the blood taken from the clothing where you shot him tested negative for this drug.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Thanks for your help.”
“The image on the screen faded. No sooner had the doctor’s face disappeared than the dispatcher’s face appeared on the vid-com.
“The prison council is ready to hear your statement against Blazer.”
“Great. I’ll go right over there.”
Darrien made his way through the maze of hallways and offices that made up the Maxopoia police compound pondering what he would say to the judge. Not that he was worried about them not believing his testimony, as far as Darrien was concerned this was a pretty open and shut case. The bullet in Lt. Drake’s chest was obviously from Johnson’s gun, at least ten people had seen Johnson shoot Drake, Johnson had admitted to shooting Drake, and Drake had even admitted to being shot by Johnson. Darrien just didn’t want Johnson to spend an sterility in one of the expensive to run cryo-prisons, but to get the death penalty.
The elevator doors opened and Darrien stepped out onto the first floor. ”Morning Phil!” Phil made no reply. He sat hunched in front of his security monitor, obviously to wrapped up in watching something to make any reply. Paying it no mind Darrien quickly made his way across the room, up the pair of marble steps and into the courtroom. The first thing Darrien noticed as the doors snapped open was the pungent mephitis of seared flesh. The judge lay slumped in her chair, her glazed eyes fixed in his direction. A look of horror etched on her face in a stare of death. One that reached even to the depths of Darrien’s soul, and yet could see nothing. Darrien wobbled on his knees, his stomach lurched.
The bailiff lay smoldering on the floor laser burns covering his body.
Lt. Drake lay next to him, dead this time. Indeed everyone else in the room was in a similar state. All except for the man of the hour.
Recovering from his state Darrien bolted out into the lobby and grabbed the voice-com from Phil’s hand. Being dead Phil was obliged to give it to him.
“This is Lt. Xavier! I need a medical team in courtroom #7 immediately! Repeat, medical assistance is required in courtroom #7 immediately!” Then slammed down the radio and picked up the phone and dialed his office. ” Jay! this is Darrien, I need you to call Dr. Phelps down at medical examination and have him send anything else he might have recovered from Johnson’s W-715
up to my computer as soon as you can. Ya, bye.” After hanging up the phone Darrien headed back for the courtroom. The tire of vengeance surged from his very soul. The devil must have his dues, and Blazer Johnson would pay.
Darrien sprinted into the elevator, and punched in the emergency code and took it to the roof. A myriad of hovercars streamed overhead. He looked frantically for any sign of the escaped maniac. none. Wait. His car was gone.
“My car…” Darrien Mumbled. He hunched over and stormed to the elevator. Upon returning to his division’s main office, he exploded.
“Put out an APB on a 2027 copper and green Uginta Splaxer.”
“Hey handsome, isn’t that what you drive? Sgt. Simons replied. She and Darrien were old friends.
“I used to drive.” He growled.
Darrien began barking orders to all around him. Johnson would NOT get away after this.