Forever Until Tomorrow (War Eternal Book 5) (14 page)

The first problem with the contact, as Mitchell learned, was that she was a career criminal, the kind of contact that Detectives didn't want to go within one hundred feet of unless they absolutely had to.
 

The second problem was that she had only recently been released from prison, after spending half a dozen years incarcerated thanks to evidence collected by Detective Lyle.

Meaning that the contact, a former teacher named Evelyn Shine, didn't care for Lyle, and the feeling was mutual. Unfortunately, the Detective couldn't come up with another resource to help get access to the data card. Technology always moved fast, and it had seen an even more massive shift since scientists had started putting things they learned on the XENO-1 to practical use. As Lyle later explained, there were already whispers that the increasing prevalence of AI meant the singularity was quickly approaching, and humankind's glory days were going to fade behind the Dove as it activated its untested hyperdrive engines.

It took Lyle most of the day to track Dr. Shine down, bringing Mitchell along as he shook down and bribed his contacts for information about her whereabouts. The process was also slower than usual because they couldn't rely on standard channels, assuming that Watson and the AIT were monitoring them. Mitchell also figured they had to know he hadn't died by now, and he enjoyed the thought of his unknown adversary kicking himself for screwing it up.

Night had fallen by the time Mitchell and Lyle pulled up to the side of the road a few blocks from the apartment where Shine was supposedly staying, keeping the unmarked car out of view.
 

"Anyone who has something to worry about from the Police knows how to spot these things," Lyle said. "We keep pushing for changes to the bureaucracy, and all we get back is how our jobs are going to be in the hands of drones and bots in the next ten years, so why bother."

"Won't she recognize you?" Mitchell asked.

"If she's staring out her window, probably. But I'll already be going into the lobby by then."

They walked the short distance, keeping to the far side of the street. The housing block was relatively new, constructed of the latest polycarbonates and alloys, materials similar to the ones employed on the Dove. It allowed the buildings to take on an almost organic shape, with a lot of curves and folds. It was a high-end neighborhood, especially for someone who just got out of jail.

More than once during the walk Mitchell caught a red light slipping across his face for the barest of moments. He saw it on Lyle, too. "What is that?"
 

"Facial recognition. Scanning you to make sure you're clean. Only newer constructed blocks have it."

"Clean?"

"The government's been collecting data on people for centuries, right? Everyone has a profile, and we've gotten pretty good at assessing risk based on that."

"What about privacy?"

"You give a little to get a lot. The systems are all automated nowadays - only machines get access to the details. The only thing LE knows is how clean you are. Anyway, we've been utilizing this kind of stuff for years, but private installation was only approved recently."

"What about me? I don't have a profile."

"You do. A short one, but it exists. Your risk level is going to be a little higher because of your time in the hospital, but being with me will cancel it out."

"How do we know they aren't watching the system?"

"You mean the AIT?"

"Or Watson."

"They might be. I hate to say it, Mitchell, but it isn't possible to get around technology. There are cameras and sensors and scanners everywhere, especially in an area like this one. If you want to disappear, you'll need to head off to Fiji or Tonga or somewhere that's perpetually years behind."

"Disappearing isn't an option," Mitchell said. "I'll have to take my chances."

"We both will."

They departed the street and walked along a winding path, situated in the middle of a well-kept lawn, itself surrounded by the undulating apartments. It was a peaceful setting. An idyllic way to live. It felt out of place amidst the other areas of the city he had seen. Too clean. Too calm. Was this the world that would rise from the ashes of the XENO-1?
 

Mitchell shivered, even though it wasn't particularly cold. Ashes. His mind hung onto the word as if it were the most poignant of his thoughts.

"You okay?" Lyle said, noticing.

"Yeah," Mitchell replied. "I just have a bad feeling about all of this."

"I've made a career out of bad feelings, and stopping them at the source. This is our building."

"How does crime manage with all of these cameras and sensors, anyway?" Mitchell asked as they headed down a short path to the glass face of one of the buildings.

"Criminals are like cockroaches. They always find a way. Less time on the streets, more time up here." He tapped his glasses. "Moving everything to digital systems didn't solve that many problems, it just swapped old with new."

They entered the building. The lobby was clean and warm, with a variety of flowering plants growing along the walls, and plenty of ambient lighting to set a comfortable mood. A kiosk in the middle of the floor came to life as they approached it, projecting a female face into the air ahead of them.
 

"Good evening, Detective Lyle. Welcome to the Shanderly. Who would you like to speak to this evening?"

"Miss Evelyn Shine, please," Lyle said.

"Miss Shine is currently unavailable," the hologram replied. "She departed her unit at seven fifty-one p.m."

Two hours ago.
 

"We'll wait in her unit for her," Lyle said.

"Do you have appropriate credentials?"

Lyle glanced back at Mitchell.
 

"We'll come back," he said, motioning toward the door.
 

They left the building together.
 

"That's it?" Mitchell asked. "The machine tells you she isn't home, and we leave?"

"Relax," Lyle said. "First of all, she's in her unit. Second, we aren't leaving."

"What do you mean, she's in her unit?"

"She was feeding the AI the lines."

"How do you know?"

"She's been away a few years. The system didn't follow the correct call and response pattern. The annoying part is that someone told her I was looking for her before we got here."

"Maybe she's with the AIT?"

"Possible, but unlikely. She's more of loner."

"So, how are we going to get in there to talk to her?"

"Around the back, through the emergency access stairwell," Lyle said. "Police have the clearance to open it for any reason. Evelyn is hoping that whatever I wanted her for wasn't important enough for me to stick around, though she's probably packing her things right about now." He smiled. "I wonder what she's trying to hide?"

Detective Lyle tapped the panel in front of Evelyn Shine's door, sending a signal into the apartment.

"The resident of this unit is not currently present," came the canned response. "Please remove yourself from the vicinity of this door or law enforcement will be notified."

Lyle looked back at Mitchell again, rolling his eyes.
 

"I know you're in there, Evelyn," he shouted. "I'm not as dumb as I look."

There was no response.

"Please remove yourself from the vicinity of this door or law enforcement will be notified," the computer repeated.

"I am law enforcement," Lyle said, tapping his badge against the panel.

"Please state the warrant number and case number for proper search of this unit."

"Come on, Evelyn. I'm not looking to make trouble. I need your expertise."

"You're sure she's home?" Mitchell asked.

"Positive. Evelyn, we can help one another. You know it never hurts to have a cop on your side."

"Please state-"

"I don't have one," Lyle snapped. "Evelyn, don't make me enter illegally. It won't turn out well for you."

Mitchell was surprised. He had pegged the Detective for being completely honest, but that didn't seem to be the case.

"Evelyn," Lyle said again.

The door opened.

The woman behind it was pencil-thin, with pixie hair and a sullen face bathed in dark eyeliner and lipstick. She didn't look happy to see Lyle.

"Detective. Sending me to prison once wasn't enough for you?"

"You did that to yourself," Lyle replied. "Don't crack user accounts, don't go to prison. It's simple."

"What the hell do you want?" she asked. She noticed Mitchell. "Who's your friend? He's handsome."

"Can we come in?" Lyle asked.

"You promise you won't bust me again?"

"I'll tell you what. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. The next time I've got evidence, I'll tell you, and then I'll lose it. One free pass. One. Got it?"

She smiled and stepped aside. "Come on in, Detective. You, too, handsome friend."

Mitchell entered the apartment. It was sparsely decorated, the floor covered in boxes. A bag was laying open in the center of it, some clothes already piled in.

"Going somewhere?" Lyle asked.

"I was. Maybe I won't now." She noticed the top of one of the boxes was open, and she hurried over to close it.

Mitchell glanced at Lyle. It was obvious she was doing something illegal. Would he call her on it?

"So, what's your name?" she said to him.

"Re - Mitchell," he replied.

"Re-mitchell? Is that like some New Anglican thing?"

"Just Mitchell."

"You have a girlfriend, just Mitchell?"

"Mitchell's in intelligence. Military intelligence," Lyle said. "I'm helping him work a case."

Mitchell took the data card from his pocket. "I'm looking for someone who can extract the data from this."

"Military intelligence, eh?" Evelyn said. "A bit of a misnomer." She laughed at her bad joke. "Can I see it?"

Mitchell handed her the card. She held it up to the light, clucking her tongue as she did.
 

"Hmm. I haven't seen a card like this since I was in grade school. I may have something that can open it." She gave it back to him. "What's in it for me?"

"We had an agreement," Lyle said.

"No, our first agreement was to let you in. This is a separate deal."

"Damn it, Evelyn."

"Sorry, that's how the game is played."

"How about, you open the card, I don't bust you for the four hundred pounds of narcotics you have in those boxes?"

"You can't prove that."

Lyle grabbed the top of one of the boxes and pulled it open.

"Hey, you have no right," Evelyn said. "Illegal search."

"You invited me in."
 

Lyle tipped the box. IV bags were stacked inside, filled with a brownish liquid.

"Fine. Whatever," she said. "I'll be right back."

She stormed from the room, through another door. Mitchell could hear crashing and pounding from wherever she had gone. Then she returned with a small black box with a wire that reached up to her AR glasses.

"Give it here, hotshot," she said.

Mitchell handed the card back. Evelyn shoved it into a small slot on the box. Her right eye starting flicking back and forth a moment later.

"It's encrypted," she said.

"We knew that," Mitchell replied. "We need to get in."

"Where'd you get this from, anyway?" Evelyn said.

"We're not at liberty to say," Lyle said. "Why?"

"Data cards exited the market for good seven years ago. This box?" She shook it in her hand. "It's a convertor. I made it myself. It bi-directionally parses the data on the card into a more modern format."

"Great," Lyle said. "So?"

"It's responding too quickly. I don't think it's parsing anything."

"Talk to me like I'm an idiot," Lyle said.

"I already am, Detective," Evelyn replied. "But if you need it mentally-challenged-style, the data on this card is written in a format that didn't exist when it was created."

"So the data is newer than the card?" Mitchell asked.

"No. Whoever wrote this must have invented the format. That's why I was curious where you got it from."