Sunshine
by Karen Goldrick
“Let me get this straight Sir. I’m assigned to investigate a murder, because the victim has been found alive.” Cassandra leaned back in her chair, and shook her head. This was a typical waste of department resources. Harry, sitting ramrod straight beside her, didn’t even blink. He was in suspend mode, a quasi-automatic function which allowed ambulating only. He’d respond when the time came, as he had been programmed to do.
The body in question had been found in a school playground, apparently asleep or unconscious. There had been some difficulty reviving her, consistent with an overdose of one of the many recreational medications so common place in these exclusive schools.
“This isn’t my call, Cassandra. the orders came through from SI. You’re to use your unique talents to sort this out.”
The DI didn’t even acknowledge Harry, but that was whom he had meant. Most of the branch, those who knew what Harry was, preferred to pretend he didn’t exist. Just as well he wasn’t programmed to take offence.
Cassandra activated his operationals once they’d headed out to the school. Harry was one of the newer 642’s, with a shelf life of 1500 days or so. His activation responded to verbals, unlike the older series 63’s which required closer, more intimate contact. They’d co-trained together for 3 months, so with any luck she’d get at least 4 years workable time before he expired.
Cassandra leaned back and closed her eyes. Harry’s basic operational system was quite capable of driving, and since it was unlikely she’d get any decent sleep until the case was closed, she had to survive on mini micro sleeps. She glanced at him. The facial animation was a nice touch, and the eye contact update made working with him easier. Almost like working with a real person, but without the hang-ups. And he was attractive. All in all, a significant improvement.
“You are my Sunshine…”
But he wasn’t supposed to be able to sing.
“What did you say?”
“My only Sunshine…...”
“Harry…please stop the car.”
If there was the slightest chance of a malfunction she didn’t want him driving. And he really wasn’t supposed to be able to sing.
With delicate precision he indicated to the left, and pulled the department issue Commodore into a bus stop.
“You make me happy….”
“Escape.”
“When times are blue…...”
“Harry: force quit. And it’s supposed to be grey. Times are grey.”
The old 63s used to bow their heads and close their eyes in shut down. Harry simply stopped. His dark hair flopped over his eyes. Cassandra waited 60 seconds. So much for the microsleep. A bus pulled in behind them, muscling menacingly close to their tailbar. Cassandra waited for it to pull out before she restarted him.
“All OK Harry?” she asked when he’d rebooted.
“Yes Ma’am.” he replied.
They arrived at the Exclusive Monte Sant Angelo College for Ladies without further incident, or rather, singing. The school was hidden behind a high brick wall designed to keep the bad influences out and keep the Ladies in. Harry pulled up the long drive, and parked in a spot designated for staff. The College was run by nuns, but it appeared to be one of the lay staff who came out the double blue doors to meet them. An older lady, close cropped grey hair and plain simple clothes in neutral blue and beige. A nun after all, Cassandra surmised, just minus her habit.
Without a word she ushered them into a large office. Oppressively dark, with the long blinds drawn and the dull overhead light reflected from the mahogany desktop. She motioned them to take a seat.
“Cassandra Everett, Special Investigations. This is -”
“I really don’t see why this is necessary”
“It’s necessary. ” Cassandra crossed her legs, and Harry handed her a small spiral notebook from his top pocket.
“What can you tell me about the victim?”
“The young girl, in question is not dead.”
Cassandra waited, not bothering to quantify the remark.
“Sarah Dowling. A gifted year 9 student. Popular. Attractive. Junior athletic champion.”
“Any family?”
The nun let out a slow breath. “She’s one of our special boarders. Her parents are dead, and the estate pays for her tuition and boarding. “
“Where does she spend holidays?”
“During holidays, she returns to the Institute.”
Beside her Harry blinked, a small movement. He was searching all known connections between the Institute and Special Investigations. He smiled, which meant the search had turned up some hits.
“Were you aware of any personal problems?”
“As I told you, a perfect student. The girls are completely devastated. There’s really not much more I can tell you. We can only hope, Miss Dowling, that she is well enough to return to us soon.”
It was as though they were dismissed from the principal’s office. No point arguing. Harry opened the car door for her. Another improvement in the 642’s. Chivalry.
“There’s been hold up in forensics.” he said, as he reversed down the drive.
Cassandra hoped he was concentrating on the busy street below, as well as the uploading forensics data.
“How so?” she asked.
“DNA report. Some inconsistencies apparently. Bob’s onto it.”
Bob was only a 63, but his operating system had been upgraded so the two could exchange files. Cassandra held her breath as Harry backed out into Miller Street.
“You’ll never know dear…“
?What!:”
“How much I love you….”
“Emergency Force Quit.” the car behind them screeched to a halt and only just missed hitting them.
“Shit.”
Now the driver behind bleated his horn. Cassandra hopped out the passenger side, raced around to the driver’s side, shoved Harry across and took the wheel.
“Shit Harry” she said again, as his head hit the passenger window. The 642s didn’t bleed or bruise, but she felt a low grade anxiety none-the-less. It was more than just frustration at the possible delay in the job. She realised she’d begun to enjoy working with the 642. With Harry. And she didn’t relish training a replacement.
Cassandra was fit, however Harry was far to heavy for her to carry to tech support. It seemed so undignified, loading him onto the trolley. It would have been an improvement if she’d been able to close his eyes.
“So what’s wrong?” Carl had asked her.
“I told you. He started to sing.”
“Was there anything wrong with his singing?”
“No Carl. It was fine. I just don’t need singing.”
“Hmmm singing. Rudimentary emotion. Needs to be eliminated of course. leave him with me”
“Thanks Carl. You…ummm…you won’t change anything, will you?”
“I’ll call before I do anything drastic’ he promised.
On the way back to the office she dropped in on forensics.
“See , I told you to stick with the 63’s. “ Bob said. Cassandra was in no mood to think of an appropriate reply. ?What’s up with the DNA report on Sarah Dowling?”
“Ahh that”
“Yes , that”
“Inconsistencies.”
“Go on” Cassandra pulled herself up on the bench.
“Well, the DNA from her cheek pouch does not match the DNA of her white blood cells. Or of her skin. Or of her bladder cells.”
“But that’s not possible.”
“No it’s not. So we’re running the tests again. For the third time.” Bob couldn’t even manage a wry grin. The 32’s weren’t designed to have facial expressions. Not even a basic two set. His skin and hair bore the plastic sheen which had all but been eliminated in the later models. He would never blend out in public. Still, they were a reliable run. And they didn’t sing.
“What could it mean, Bob, if these inconsistencies were real.?”
”Frankenstein”
“Pardon?”
“Mary Shelley, 1873. Frankenstein. Body parts pasted together to make up the whole.”
“I don’t think I like where this is going.” Cassandra said.
“Sarah Dowling might be a genetic mosaic.”
Cassandra hid in her office, avoiding all contact with her CO, and waiting for tech supports call. She needed the information Harry had compiled on the Institute. Sure, it was possible for her to do a little research herself, but why do a job that was already done. The phone on her desk squawked yet again. This time she answered, hoping it was tech support at last.
It wasn’t.
“Cassandra. I’ve got SI breathing down my neck. The Institute telling me to back off. Rumours of a Cycorp unit who’s started singing, And Inland Security accusing me of treason. What the F is going on?”
Cassandra smoothed her face and smothered her frustration. Pure cajoling mode which never failed her CO.”
“Relax Sam. It’s all under control. Hunky-dory.”
There was a long pause at the other end.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Gotta go Sam. Another call”
She slammed the receiver down. She go to tech support herself.
“Al sorted Cassandra. I’ve deleted the sentiment bug, and added some improvements I designed myself.”
“What sort of improvements”
“Just a couple of new skills you may find useful. Check the help menu for details.”
“The 648 help menu sucks Bob”
“Take the manual” he said, tossing a thick paperback book which she just managed to catch.
Cassandra narrowed her eyes, but she had no time to waste.”
“Whatever.”
“And I’ll download the invoice.”
“Send it upstairs to Sam,” she called back.
Harry accompanied her silently back to the car. he didn’t look any different, although she had a sneaking suspicion he winked at her before opening the passenger door.
“I’ll drive,” she said. “Direct us to the Institute.”
As they passed through the cross city Tunnel Harry fed her the Institute details.
“The Institute has been experimenting with gene splicing for at least 2 decades. More recently, they have been working with genetic design and patency.”
“For crops?”
?For crops, agricultural products, herd health. They’ve also been working on “Project X.”
“Which is…...c’mon Grampa” she added and she beeped the small Corona in front of her as it accelerated to 40km/hr on the Western distributor.”
“Project X