Drick left the executive cubicle after taking time to put a loose fitting cover over the combat suit. Drick straightnened hair and ensured that there were no evidence traces on their body. Doing a quick check in a full length screen Drick opened the door to the main corridor.
Drick stopped just outside the main door and surveyed the four security guards, three justice bots and two justice officers who were outside in the corridor. There were two bodies on the floor under thin polythene sheets. So two of the assailants had died. No doubt that the other three would be in a medical treatment facility.
Drick stopped as two justice bots scanned them, they obligingly held out the wrist containing the skin dent and waited while the bot interacted with the implant scrolling data across Drick’s forearm. The bot would be downloading the most salient parts of Drick’s history to the justice officers which is why the two officers had suddenly had looked up in surprise and started to move in Drick’s direction.
“Identity,” snapped the first one unnecessarily as Drick still had the arm outstretched palm upwards.
The justice officer scanned with their own handheld monitor much slower than the droids who would surely be better. So this was an intentional delay, some tactic, or maybe they were just an idiot. The officer had the tattoo on Drick’s arm display everything contained in the implant.
“You’re a combat veteran?”
“That’s what it says on the chip.”
“It doesn’t have too many details except that you had a long service. Why is that?”
“I only ever worked in logistics.”
“Really, well that is a field best suited to those of low ability and enough brains to take orders from a tactical computer.”
“If you say so, officer.”
“I served in the forward ranks and never got as far as comissioned officer and yet a pen pusher like you gets to have the rank of Major. That sickens me.”
“Are you still a reserve?”
“So am I, maybe one day we will serve in the same regiment, wouldn’t that be nice.”
“We might be in the same unit but I’d be on the front line.”
“Not all logistical work is done from the rear.”
“How long have you been in that bathroom?”
“I didn’t do an exact count but maybe forty minutes in total.”
“That seems like an excessive length of time. Was there any reason you needed that long?”
“That’s a rather personal question. What business is it of yours?”
“We are investigating an incident involving multiple assaults and deaths. For some reason the monitoring was down in this whole section.”
“Really,” Drick spoke without a trace of sarcasm, “there seems to be a lot of that going around. I am sorry to tell you that I have nothing to report to you at this time.”
“You heard and saw nothing? No suspicious screams or shouting, the sounds of impacts?”
“As I said I have nothing to share with you at this time.”
The officer looked at Drick for a long moment, “your current occupation is investigator isn’t it? Primarily insurance companies?”
“You working on a case right now?”
Drick smiled, not without any warmth, “I am as a matter of fact.”
“Would it have anything to do with these people here and the three we sent to the med bay?”
“I suppose that it is possible that they may have some slight involvement, but nothing that causes me an immediate need to investigate them.” Drick widened the smile and did a level best to look innocent, “unless you think that I should officer?”
“You leaving system any time soon?”
“I hadn’t planned on it.”
“Good, don’t. We may need to talk to you further, I am certainly not satisfied by your answers and I think you have something to do with this. I will be looking further into your logistics career.”
“Do what you must,” said Drick politely, “I am fairly sure you have all the information you need to find me. If you need anything further you’ll have contact details from my implant and I am fairly well known at central so there are a number of organics there who can get me on a personal number.”
Drick let the last statement sink in. Beat officers always reported to central and Drick had just confirmed a relationship with at least one person there. It would naturally be someone of a higher pay grade that a beat officer who, ironically, would usually take orders from a bot that worked in the logistics department of justice. Drick laid on the relationship as it was a fair warning that the best route was to tidy this particular incident as cleanly as possible and drop further investigation. Drick would place real credits on the three assailants in the medical centre having a very bad case of amnesia, if they even stayed long enough to give a full statement.
“May I go about my business?”
“Sure,” the officer had an angry clip to their voice but they moved to one side so that Drick could walk on.