When he and Kir had first come into contact with Kawnac-B years ago, the robot was still mostly humanoid. But as K-B toyed with people more and more, he found the idea of emulating such an easily destroyed machine beneath him. After modification after modification, he eventually settled on the cold metal cylinder as the ideal body. Like a Swiss Army knife, panels hid arms, blades, weapons, and more, each able to emerge instantaneously.
The door at the top of the stairs opened onto a little anteroom. Fake plants stood in bronze pots in the corners. Kir pulled the office door open, but before Laughton could go through, the robot shoved him, just as the springing sound of wires uncoiling registered in his mind: Taser.
Shaken, the chief rotated his shoulders and tried to sound unfazed as he stepped into the office, an opulent, wood-paneled room with an enormous rosewood desk, but no chairs. The large window that afforded a view of the ballroom made the space feel much larger than it was. A small elevator door was tucked into a corner. “Interesting choice, Kawnac-B.”
The side of the screen nearest the police showed a CGI face in such high resolution that the only thing preventing it from looking real was that it was flat. “Just a little prank on old friends.”
“So I’m sure you don’t know that we’re investigating a human murder in which the weapon was a Taser?”
“In Liberty?” the robot said, rolling on his three casters to the large desk in the center of the room. “Do you think I could make it to Liberty without being stopped? I’m surprised I lasted on the preserve this long. I assume I’m closing down tonight?”
“That may be negotiable,” Kir said.
Negotiable? Laughton didn’t know what Kir was doing, but he knew to keep quiet.
“I don’t think you killed the human,” Kir said. “But that doesn’t mean you weren’t involved.”
“Dead humans, so of course I’m involved,” Kawnac-B said, mocking them.
“See that guy down there?” Kir said, pointing at the window. Kawnac-B made no effort to look. “He’s their distributor, and he’s in your club, so yeah, you’re involved.”
“I don’t know everyone who comes into my club.”
“That why there are so many robots here? Robots usually aren’t buying what you’re selling.”
“It sounds like you already have ideas,” Kawnac-B said. “I’m just a club owner. Go ahead and take samples from the bar. Nothing illegal down there. Numbers mostly.”
“Just heroin and meth and opioids. You always catered to the human population, after all.”
“You really can’t seem to decide what it is you want me for,” Kawnac-B said.
Laughton hated the complete lack of body language in addition to the screen face. That was probably part of the point. “So how’s it feel to have a boss?” Laughton said.
“Kind of pathetic, stuck in the backwoods,” Kir said, picking up on Laughton’s cue.
“Yeah, the Sisters really put a leash on you,” Laughton said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The robot’s face and voice remained flat.
“How’s it feel to be a pawn?” Laughton said.
“The two of you have decided something that has no basis in reality,” Kawnac-B said.
“And what’s that?” Laughton said.
“You tell me,” Kawnac-B said.
Laughton took the maglock from his pocket, concealing it in his hand. “I’m running out of patience,” he said, stepping forward.
“Why don’t you just run out?” Kawnac-B said.
“You want us to leave, we want to leave,” Laughton continued.
“Then leave.”
Laughton shrugged, and then tossed the maglock. It attached itself to the robot’s body with a smack.
Kawnac-B’s face screen flickered, but he didn’t comment on the fact that he had just been maglocked. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.
“This is bad business for your boss,” Kir said. “Robots dying on sims just as you move into the field. Customers aren’t going to keep buying if they think that each hit could be deadly.”
“You better make sure that doesn’t happen,” Kawnac-B said.
“Was that a threat?”
“Did it sound like a threat? Get this thing off of me.”
“Let’s try this another way,” Kir said. “If the people who deliver the perfectly legal numbers being sold in your perfectly illegal club left wanting something in exchange, might they leave with something that Sam and Smythe had a hand in?”
The face disappeared from the screen, leaving it black, and then it came back on, the whole thing lasting a second, a flicker. “Let’s say, hypothetically, yes.”
“Anything new coming out of here in the last few days?”
“Nothing new here in a week or so. Jones was supposed to show up with something, but he showed up with his tail between his legs, and nothing else.”
“Says the metal who tried to kill me on sight,” Laughton said.
“That had nothing to do with any of this. That’s just because it was fun.”
As they were talking, the room below them cleared out except for Jones, who continued to sit at the table, staring straight ahead. He must have warned everyone the party was over, or maybe Kawnac-B had sent out a message. They’d all be across the bridge and off the preserve before anyone from the Department of Health and Human Services would get here. With no arrests, they wouldn’t clear them out for long, if not in this club, then somewhere else on the preserve with no people and little oversight.
“Come on, Kawnac-B,” Kir said. “Give us something we can use. You really want the Sisters to run you?”
“I hate to disabuse you of anything, but I don’t work with the Sisters. And you can believe me or not, but I had nothing to do with this.”
“So who do you work with?”
It clicked for Jesse. Of course, Kawnac-B wasn’t working with the Sisters. That’s why Crisper noticed a new route, because a competitor was siphoning off the product. “Titanium,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s the new route.” And that was why Jones was here, probably. He figured Smythe dead, Sam missing. Maybe time to look somewhere other than the Sisters. “The preserve opens,” Laughton continued, “and as a dealer in orgo drugs, your clientele moves. You follow, importing the drugs in, which means you have a delivery network into the preserve, might as well transport things out on the way back. Did you come up with the name Titanium? It’s got a nice ring to it.”
“You are, again, way off base.”
“Way off base?” Laughton said.
“I think maybe just a little off base,” Kir said.
“I don’t think I’m at all off base,” Laughton said.
“I am not Titanium.”
“What are you, stainless steel?”
“Very funny, meat man.”
“Watch it,” Kir said.
“No, it’s okay,” Laughton said. “If he’s Titanium, I’m meat, I get it.”
“I am not Titanium. I’ve never even met Titanium, or seen the guy.”
“But you do know him,” Laughton said.