It was dark in the room when Miller woke up. The darkness didn’t necessarily imply it was night time. Miller generally kept the room dark, it was a hangover from his days as a deep spacer. The darkness simply made it easier to transition from waking into working.
“Time?” Miller muttered.
“The local time is oh eight hundred hours Boss.”
“Thanks Jim.” Jim was the home AI, Miller still hadn’t been able to get out of the habit of being polite to AI’s yet. Another hangover from working in deep space, he presumed. Out there the AI’s were your absolute lifeline, they kept you alert, alive and ready for anything. Here Jim was little more than a glorified alarm clock cum personal organiser. “So what’s on the docket today Jim?”
“Jobs to do. Number one, locate Frank. Number two, question Mrs Willis. Number three, obtain ramen. That is all.”
Frank was the cat he’d been looking for. It had been well over a week since he’d taken the case, he wasn’t expecting to find the creature alive today if he was honest. In this part of the region it was probably feeding a family of five by now. He had an idea it might be holed up in one of the cloning banks. Anyone with half an ounce of sense hadn’t just eaten the damn thing themselves, they were holding it hostage and cranking out clones to sell to the hungry and desperate.
And there were plenty of folks who fitted that description in the region.
“Jim, is there still a number for Mrs Willis on file?” She was the old lady who’d asked him to find her husband. Miller already knew where Mr Willis was. Long dead now, gone over twenty years ago.
Every few years Mrs Willis would have another episode and she’d forget that he’d already passed away. Miller had gotten used to doing the job for next to nothing now, he felt bad charging the old lady at all. She was too proud to ever take no for an answer so he’d charge her as little as he possibly could whilst still making her think she had actually paid him a worthwhile amount.
Jim had the data run down in an instant. “File two, Boss. You want I should call her?”
Eight A.M was way too early for the old broad to be awake. She might be up and about by two in the afternoon. “Remind me later, after two P.M.”
“Okay Boss.”
“Jim?”
“Yes Boss?”
“Do I really still need to get ramen?”
“Yes Boss. The order is still unfulfilled.” The AI almost sounded sorry at having to tell him that. It was too well programmed by half.
“Any other items on the docket today Jim?” Miller knew he’d never remember anything without the AI. It was his memory these days. That hadn’t worked right since Sigma Centauris.
Jim was right on top of things. “You need to make the call Boss. You promised her, by the end of the week at the latest. And that’s today.”
Damn it. The call. He’d already put it off long enough. “Okay Jim. Call Girl.”
“Calling Girl.”
It rang once, before she picked up. No matter what Girl was doing, even if she’d been hip deep into a fire-fight she’d always pick up after the first ring. “Y’ello!”
“Hey Girl.”
“Miller, you old fecker. Took your god damn time getting back to me. So, what about the job? You hiring, or what?”
Miller gestured to the AI’s camera to put her on mute. “Job? What job is she on about Jim?”
“Number thirty-four Boss. You know, unfinished business?”
Miller didn’t need the AI to remind him what that was. The hit. He gestured to remove the mute. “Hey Girl, sorry about that. Yeah, I’m hiring. You available?”
“Fecking A I’m available Miller. Promise me we’re taking him out this time?” Girl sounded more eager than anxious at having been kept waiting so long. Almost too eager to be taking this sort of work if Miller was being honest with himself. Which he practically never was. He was that kind of person.
“Yes Girl, we’re taking him out. You can have the bounty too. I just want him dead.”
“All of it? You sure Miller? It’s a primo pay day, you know that, right?” Girl sounded both pleased and excited. Exactly the way Miller liked hearing her.
“It’s all yours Girl. If you take him out, you deserve it all. I only located him. You’re the trigger man.”
“Girl. Trigger Girl. And don’t forget it Miller.”
Damn it, he’d pissed her off now. “Sorry Girl. You know how I get. Consider the pay day my apology.”
“Consider it forgotten Miller. Send me the data, let me know when you want him dead. I’m good to go now.” Was that a trace of desperation in Girl’s voice? Did she need the money all of a sudden? Miller had always thought she seemed financially stable, she rarely took jobs these days.
“Did I call at a bad time Girl? You in the middle of something?” Miller didn’t want to push her but he was curious.
“Nothing I can’t put on hold for you Miller. It’ll be just like the old days again, just like Sigma Centauris.” Her voice didn’t sound angry, but she knew better than to talk about that place to him. She more than anyone, knew not to mention the old wounds, yet here she was ready to rub salt into them?
What the hell, Girl? “Shoot her the info Jim. Dead by dawn if you can Girl.”
“If? Ha! When, don’t you mean Miller? Got a preferred time? You know I can deliver, when haven’t I before?” Girl was razzing him now, trying to bait him into an argument.
“By dawn, that’s good enough Girl. And proof of death too, you know the arrangement. I’ll see you at Mikes, this time tomorrow. You bring the proof, I’ll make it rain money.”
Then the comm cut. Same as always from Girl, she was never big on goodbyes.
#####
Miller got his shit just about together enough to eat before he went out. If he was honest, it was only because Jim had made him lay it all on the counter before he had sacked out the previous night. It couldn’t be called breakfast. Not after he’d sacked out right after speaking to Girl. Just a few more hours in oblivion, then he might be close to coping with another day alive. He barely held himself together these days. The region just wasn’t cutting it as a home, or even as a place to live. Miller missed the stars.
“Eat it all Boss. Then go see Mrs Willis, okay?” Jim was a constant nag, but without him Miller wouldn’t have been able to function at all.
“Is it that late already Jim?” Miller checked his Auto, Jim had already loaded the details onto it. Then he forced the final few mouthfuls down his throat, dragged himself to his feet and just about made it to the door.
Once outside, the transformation was almost unbelievable. You would have barely known him from the living corpse who seemed to be clinging onto life inside the single room apartment Miller didn’t call home.
#####
Mrs Willis only lived one transport away. Miller jumped the barrier, as he had before. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford to pay the fare, he just didn’t feel like paying it today. Or any other day, come to that. Somehow though, the automated checkers always seemed to know, they instinctively seemed to single him out during the single stop journey. “Ticket please, sir?”
Miller looked the checker up and down. An older model that had seen a lot of vandalism in its service. ‘Maybe about to see some more,’ Miller thought to himself. “Feck off, ‘bot.”
“Ticket please, sir?” The checkers were programmed not to engage, even if the patron was verbally abusive. It was all about seeing a ticket or ejecting him at the next stop.
Miller didn’t raise his voice, or change his tone, but he did remain defiant. “You deaf or something? I said feck off ‘bot.”
“I’ll need to see your ticket for this journey, or I’ll have to escort you from the transport at the next station sir.”
Miller rolled his eyes at the checker. “Ain’t got one, ‘bot. I guess you’re throwing me off then?”
“Escorting you off the transport sir.” The damn things were insanely pedantic about their answers.
“Escorting. Throwing me off. Same fecking difference to me, ‘bot. It’s my stop anyway. So what do ya say to that, ‘bot?”
It gave Miller the same programmed answer he’d heard a thousand times before. “Thank you for your co-operation sir.”
By the time the transport rolled up to the next stop, the automated checker had already firmly but politely hustled Miller over to the doors. It had a good strong grip on his wrist. The kind that’d cost you a hand to try and escape from. Not that Miller was looking to escape, but he was feeling the claustrophobia of anxiety when the doors opened at the stop.
“Please exit the transport sir.”
Miller stepped off as soon as the checker released its vice-like grip on his wrist. He rubbed the skin to get the blood circulating again. “I’m off. You good now?”
“Thank you for your patronage. Please purchase a ticket next time you travel.” And with that the doors snapped shut again, the transport whisking its paying passengers off to wherever they were going today.
Miller had gotten used to being tossed off the transport now. It happened every time, mostly because he never bothered with small details like buying a ticket. It normally meant a slightly more exciting journey, if he was honest with himself. And I think we’ve already established that Miller wasn’t that kind of person.
Ignorance is bliss, bliss is a way of life.
#####
Mrs Willis took her time answering the door. She’d been old when she first reported her husband as missing over twenty years ago. She must be close to the end herself by now. “Yes sonny?” Poor old bird. She was well into an episode by the looks of it.
Miller flashed the old cop badge he’d never bothered giving back to them when he left. It still had its uses. Like now, for instance. “Mrs Willis? Detective Miller, you contacted the Tenth Precinct about your husband going missing a few days ago?”
Mrs Willis stood stone still, like a statue. Miller knew from experience she was now processing the information and trying to remember. As always, it took her a few minutes before she sprang back to life, like a shop display being activated by a passing warm body. “Oh yes, I remember! My dear Harry, have you any information?”
Miller knew from experience that she didn’t react well to being told right off the bat that her dear Harry was currently worm food. “We’re still looking into his disappearance right now Mrs Miller. Can you think of anywhere he might have gone, a favourite bar perhaps? Somewhere he liked to eat?” Miller knew what she’d say next, once she sprang back into life again.
Mrs Willis smiled at the recollection. “Oh yes! Try Jackie’s Bar And Grill, it’s down on Fifth as I recall.”
It had been on Fifth, twenty something years ago. It was a hardcore sex joint now. Dear Harry wouldn’t have frequented it these days, he had been quite the church-going type according to the data Jim had given to Miller. According to Jim, Miller had eventually found dear Harry after a month of looking around all the nice bars, then all the not so nice bars and then finally all the real seedy dive bars. Some scum bag in one of the worst dives had told Miller, after a couple of beers to loosen his memory, that Harry, or what was left of him could be found in a now long-abandoned Latter Day Saints Church over past Bleeker and Twelfth.
When Miller had finally crowbarred the massive oak front door open far enough to squeeze his gaunt frame inside, he’d been hit by the smell first. The paired smells of cat piss and dead guy. Long dead guy. Very long since dead guy. And just enough flesh left on his bones to get a DNA identification as being dear old Harry Willis. Even coming from a friendly cop, Mrs Willis hadn’t taken it well. She’d been placed into an institution for her own good, and left there for ten long lonely years. When they finally declared her well enough to leave, she went right back to the family home and promptly forgot that dear Harry had ever passed from her life. Which was why she got in touch with Miller every few years to investigate his disappearance.
The one thing Miller had given her on his first visit had been his business card with his contact details. Even then he’d been looking to go private. Miller wasn’t exactly sure how he’d gone from high flying detective to deep space miner in the space of a few months. The fall from grace was one of the few things Jim wouldn’t remind him about. That and Sigma Centauris. Because Jim knew better, Jim knew not to.
Bless that sweet AI.
“I’ll try the place and see what I can come up with Mrs Willis,” Miller had to catch himself, he’d almost called her Florence then. She hadn’t told him that yet. She’d tell him her name the next time he called. She always had before and she would again. Miller remembered enough to give her a few days. Coming back too soon normally made Florence anxious, she’d devolve into a state of panic and instantly assume Harry was dead. It was almost as though she was willing herself to remember the truth, no matter how much it hurt her. “I’ll catch up with you in a few days, I’m sure Harry will be home before you know it.”
Miller usually left her with that homily now, he felt it both reassured and comforted her.
#####
“You still don’t have ramen Boss,” Jim was in nag mode yet again.
“No I don’t Jim. And I still haven’t found that damn cat yet either.” Miller felt the AI was near constantly needling him about the ramen. Or the cat. One of them. Either of them. Probably both of them, the smart little shit. Whatever. Feck it.
Miller knew it wouldn’t be long before she got in touch again. “Call Girl.”
“Are you sure Boss? You know how she hates to be called when she’s on the clock. And she’s on the clock right now.” Good old Jim, right as usual.
“Cancel request Jim. Run the Frank file again. Remind me, where was our last sighting?”
The fraction of a second it took Jim to cross check and correlate the date was probably an eternity to the AI. “Caught on a camera, Chop Shop Zone Boss.”
Miller didn’t need to ask Jim to shoot him the data, he knew it’d be on his Auto before he reached the door.
#####
“Whaddaya want, bub?” He was more fat than man.
Miller flashed the blob of fat a picture of Frank from his Auto. “You ever see this cat, friend?” Miller called all creeps friend. He didn’t want them to seem unfriendly to him. Or vice versa, come to that. It was a basic survival trait that had worked so far.
“You lose your kitty, Mister? That’s real sad.” The blob of fat sounded like he meant it too.
“Something like that. Looking for a lady friend, she truly misses him. Last seen on your surveillance gear, a month ago.”
The blob of fat scratched what roughly used to be his right cheek. “My gear, you say? You want I should check the tapes?”
Miller sped through an internal monologue of surprise. ‘Jeez, this guy still used tapes? What century was he living in? No, don’t be rude to him. He might be our last source of viable data.’ “Sure, if you still got ’em?”
The blob nodded. “Oh sure I still got ’em Mister. I never tapes over ’em. I got lots of blanks to use.” The leer he gave Miller left the impression his gear wasn’t just taping the street outside the chop shop. “You wanna come in and see?”
Miller knew he had the third generation copy the camera had shot out to a Wi-Fi cloud storage centre. If the blob had a clearer original, maybe it showed which way Frank had been heading, and how fast. “Sure. Shall I wipe my feet first?”
The blob just guffawed. “Whatever, Mister. Tapes are this way.”
There wasn’t much by way of space on the floor. The blob flattened anything he stepped on, so Miller followed in his footsteps of devastation. In what used to be an office but was now a catch-all for dumping junk, the blob waved a black plastic rectangle at Miller.
Wow. When he’d said tape, Miller hadn’t thought he’d meant actual magnetic tape. Where the hell had he found such archaic technology that still worked?
“Here is is Mister, May the fourth.”
“Star Wars day?” Miller muttered to himself.
The blob shrugged, cupping a hand to an ear. “Sorry Mister, didn’t quite catch that?”
Miller waved him off. “Nothing. Not important right now. So can we watch the tape now?”
The blob nodded and inserted it into a player that was probably an antique when Miller’s grandfather had been a baby. Together they sat and watched the image play in real time, something Miller hadn’t done in his life before today. Everything was pre-record these days. After about forty minutes of playback, a familiar fuzzy ball wandered into view.
“This him?” asked the blob, pressing pause. The image of Frank just hung on the screen, lines of static ghosting over his body and tail.
Miller just nodded, indicating he should keep playing the tape. The blob pressed play again.
Frank took himself a hunk of pavement and sat there for over an hour before anything else happened. That anything else being a bright red mag-van floating into shot to a halt right next to, but not obscuring Frank.
“You able to screenshot this, friend?” Miller asked.
The blob shook his head, the tech was far too old to have hard-copy print-out. Miller used his Auto to snap the van and its ID, then he motioned to the blob to press play again.
The image jumped back into life and a man in a red silk outfit got out of the mag-van and picked Frank up. So where ever he was now, this person had a line on it. And now Miller had a line on them. “Okay. Good enough, friend. How much do you need?”
The blob waved him away. “Don’t want your money friend. Just find your girl’s cat. That’ll be payment enough for old Buddy.”
Miller even shook his hand as he left. A blob called Buddy? And one who didn’t want paying either? He’d heard stranger. But not much stranger. That was straight into Miller’s all time top three, for sure.
#####
It was well into the afternoon by the time Miller tracked down the owner of the mag-van, and just as he’d suspected it was a flat above a legit cloning business. The automated doorkeeper told Miller the van’s owner worked all day, some sort of food delivery job.’ That made sense,’ Miller thought. The guy had spotted Frank and then seen the dollar signs on the horizon. So Frank might still be alive. Might.
As he stood waiting for the van to roll by, Miller called Mrs Willis. “It’s Detective Miller, Mrs Willis. Just calling to let you know that I’m still on the case. I’ll be going to Jackie’s later, thanks for the lead. You take care now.” Miller hung up fast to make sure he didn’t give her the space to speak. Past experience had taught him she’d chat for hours, given half the chance. And Miller just didn’t have the time to engage with the old lady right now. He’d give it a few more hours, and then let her down gently just before he caught up with Girl.
Girl. He wondered how she was doing on the job right now? Had she made the hit yet? Were they in clear at last? Was he finally getting off this miserable ball of rock back to his beloved stars?
Miller had resigned himself to a long wait outside the flat but the mag-van floated to a halt less than an hour after he’d got there. Miller was at the door before it touched the ground, knocking on the window, beckoning for it to be opened.
The window buzzed open. ‘Bad servo,’ Miller thought to himself.
“Yes, can I help you Officer?” The voice was a lot more Standard than Miller had expected. He’d assumed Off-world. And the driver had pegged him for a cop, without the need for even flashing the old badge.
“Miller, Tenth Precinct. Received some information that you might know the whereabouts of a missing cat?” Miller flashed him the picture of Frank on the Auto. “Mister…?” Miller left the silence for the driver to fill. He’d gotten the address but not a name. That was rare in this day and age, whoever this was, they knew someone who could hack. But was someone who could peg a cop, without pulling a gun.
“Wass. Eustace Wass, Officer. Yes, I’ve seen the animal in question sir. Found it without a collar, outside a disreputable establishment. Feared the owner might eat it. So I took him in. I was gonna report him missing, I guess it just slipped my mind over time.”
Disreputable was a pretty accurate description of Buddy’s chop shop. And this guy Wass sounded as human as Miller. But he knew Frank had been wearing a collar. His owner might have been cheap enough to not bother with a tracking chip but he had made sure Frank always wore a collar with his name and address on it.
Miller gestured on the Auto, it adjusted and zoomed in on Frank. “No collar, eh? What’s that then Eustace?”
For an entire second Miller braced himself for the expected attack that never materialised. Wass put both his hands in the air, like a scared good citizen would. “I’m sorry Detective! I saw him sitting there, and I just knew he could make me money! I haven’t hurt him. He’s alive inside.” Wass passed his door code to the Auto and let Miller cuff him to the wheel. He also let Miller disable the engine, so he couldn’t drive off.
The code got him past the automated doorkeeper, as well as the lock on the flat door.
Miller assumed the place had been immaculate once, before Frank had arrived. There were claw marks everywhere now, the little fur ball clearly had been given the run of the place, and of Wass too! It took a few minutes of looking, then Miller just grabbed the closest half-full food bowl, rattling it impatiently.
Sure enough, Frank came bolting towards the sound of food. Unharmed. Not one hair out of place.
“Come on furball, I’m taking you home.” Miller looked at the cat, he didn’t have time for Frank’s bullshit or his bad attitude.
Frank growled, hissed then showed claws. Fortunately his owners had expected such behaviour and given Miller a glove that issued a mild stun. A few strokes later and Frank was like partially electrocuted putty in his hands. And Eustace was more than willing to give him a ride back across the city, stopping a dozen blocks short of Frank’s actual home.
“Listen Wass, you seem like a good guy. I ain’t gonna press charges as you helped me get him home. Now scram before I change my mind, and don’t ever let me catch you breaking the law again.”
Wass couldn’t scram fast enough.
#####
Miller had made a pretty interesting discovery too, as Wass had been driving him across the city in complete terror. “Hey Eustace, is this real ramen in the back?”
Wass just nodded meekly.
“Real, edible ramen? Not the printed shit, or the clones?”
Wass nodded again. “Real ramen, Officer. Would you like some? Free sample for our brave boys in blue of course!”
Miller hadn’t been able to help himself to several packets fast enough. Jim wasn’t going to believe this. Girl either.
Outside the house, Frank’s owner had been all kinds of happy, including the kind that paid extra for live cats. Miller had soon been left in the cold once Frank was reunited with them though.
“Call Girl.”
The Auto acted as a substitute for Jim when Miller was on the go. “You sure, Boss? She hasn’t notified us she’s done it yet.”
“Cancel request. Even on a wrist you’re a terrible nag, Jim.”
The transport was a matter of getting there stop by stop. Miller got thrown off at each station where he’d go outside, come back then get on the next transport. It was a slow journey but it was free. Miller could have paid from the reward for Frank, but he’d rather keep his money and ride for free. Besides, it meant he got to annoy the automated checkers. And that was all kinds of fun.
#####
Back at the room, Jim had kept the lights off.
“The old home fire ain’t burning Jim?”
The AI just ignored him, it was programmed not to interact with his ancient references.
“I found Frank.”
“Really? Alive?” The AI sounded surprised.
“Alive and well. The little shit had ruined the apartment of the guy who’d snatched him. He’ll probably hand himself into the cops later, I’d wager. Seemed like the type to me. Name of Eustace.”
“Already at a station now Boss, just got an update. He mentioned your name, even went to the Tenth, looking for you.”
Miller grinned. “Was he pissed when he found out I ain’t a cop no more, Jim?”
“Seems not Boss. Looks like he was one of the good ones.”
“A rare breed these days, Jim.”
“Rare indeed, Boss.”
Miller glanced at the time. “Check the feed for Florence? She awake now?”
It took the AI less than a second to respond. “Making tea, Boss. You want to place a call?”
Miller shook his head, already halfway out the door. “Turn the lights off Jim, I’ve gotta do this one in person.”
#####
Miller felt odd when he reached her station. The Automated Checkers hadn’t even approached him during the journey there. It didn’t feel right, not being thrown off. Mrs Willis answered the door fairly quickly this time. “Hello Mrs Willis.”
“Call me Florence, Detective. You have news?”
Miller put on the grave face, trying to appear as approachable as possible. “I have, Florence.” He put his hand on her arm.
She already knew, without having to say anything. “No, please? Not that.”
“I’m sorry. Harry passed away. It was peaceful, if that helps?” Miller knew it didn’t help. Mrs Willis would now quietly go crazy once more, maybe even to the point of being put away again. It wasn’t right that she didn’t get the kind of care she really needed. Miller even snuck the credits she’d insisted on paying him back into her pocket when she turned to close the door.
‘I don’t need her money, not now. Not after Frank. And the ramen,’ Miller thought. Jim had already liquidated the asset to the most eager buyer, the schmo who’d been badgering him for the last ten months. Every day it had been the same call, “Ramen, Miller. Get me ramen!”
And now he had his god damn ramen. ‘Another monkey off my back,’ Miller thought to himself.
Miller walked the fifty blocks to Mikes. There was always a free drink waiting on the bar for him there. Mike owed him for life, and then some. Mere drinks would never pay that particular debt. “Hey Miller. How’s the job?”
Miller frowned at Mike.
“That bad, eh?”
Miller shook his head. “I shouldn’t complain. Cleared all my jobs. Found Frank, found some ramen. Had to let Florence down again.”
“I’ll see she’s looked after, if you’re going away again Miller?” Mike was good people. Too bad there weren’t more like him. “You here alone? Or…?”
Miller remembered the time. An hour before dawn. “Call Girl.”
The Auto rang once.
Twice.
A third time.
“She always picks up in one ring, Boss.” The Auto didn’t need to tell him that, he already knew.
“Check the feeds. Any word of the job?”
The second it took the AI felt like a lifetime to Miller.
“News item, might be bad Boss.”
“Don’t sugar coat it Jim, just give me the word.”
The Auto switched to a monotone and began to read the news. “…killed in what appeared to be an attempt on his life, the killer, an unidentified female was also killed by his bodyguards…”
“Turn it off Jim. That’s enough.”
“Tickets, Boss?”
Miller couldn’t go alone. They’d made the escape plan together. “Call Girl.”
“She’s gone Boss. I can’t do that.” Jim almost sounded sorry. Too well programmed.
“Just book the one then. Deep space, next passage. Mike, look after Florence. Use this…” The pile of dropped credits covered the entire bar. And anything they’d ever have to do for the old lady. She’d be well cared for now.
And the stars shine brighter now, knowing they have Miller back amongst them. Jim’s still a nag though.
END.
By Ray Daley
Ray Daley was born in Coventry & still lives there. He served 6 yrs in the RAF as a clerk & spent most of his time in a Hobbit hole in High Wycombe. He is a published poet & has been writing stories since he was 10. His current dream is to eventually finish the Hitch Hikers fanfic novel he’s been writing since 1986.
https://raymondwriteswrongs.wordpress.com/