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CHAPTER SEVEN



The prog-steel door split open, and Isaac and Susan stepped into the conference room, once again in their uniforms, Isaac in the dark blue of SysPol and Susan in the lighter blue of a Peacekeeper. He didn’t have a LENS yet, and Cephalie was still at the CFPD station, but he felt considerably more comfortable with just the uniform. It also helped that Nina had arrived and had begun her work on the problematic food printer.

Elly Sako sat at one end of a long, rectangular table made of smoked glass, arms hugging her chest as if she were cold. She looked up as they entered, and Isaac noted her eyes: slightly reddened as if she’d been crying, but still sharp and in control. She wore a tight pink shirt and matching skirt while a pair of abstract angel wings floated behind her back.

He would have preferred to conduct this interview in a setting comfortable for the victim, but she couldn’t return to her hotel room yet, and even if she could, that’s where she’d found the severed head.

A neutral location would have to do.

“Hello, Miss Sako,” Isaac said. “I’m Detective Cho, and this is Agent Cantrell. Thank you for agreeing to speak with us.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble.” She chuckled without humor. “It’s been that kind of day, you know?”

“Of course.” Isaac took the seat near the corner, diagonal from her, and Susan sat down next to him. “Let’s start with the threat itself. Do you have any idea who might have sent it?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Could be anyone, though.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I’m Lunarian and I’m from the Admin.”

“Why do you believe that could lead to a broad list of suspects?”

“Well, let’s see here.” She put an elbow on the table and leaned forward. “I’m a citizen of the Admin, so I’m already on some people’s shit list. And yeah, I’ve seen those League protesters outside. Our ActionStream hosts tried to keep a lid on it, but they clearly didn’t pay off the right people in your government. Those protests were all over the news.”

“Our news outlets aren’t government controlled.”

“Oh.” She backed away and blinked. “Really? They’re not?”

“No.”

“I guess that explains a lot, then.” She shrugged as if the revelation didn’t matter. “Anyway, you can see the protesters as clearly as I can. What a bunch of idiots, right? We’re here to compete, but they’re acting like we intend to, I don’t know”—she threw up her hands in frustration—“eat their babies, or some shit like that.”

“You believe the protesters could be the source of the threat?”

“Look at it this way. They definitely want me to leave.”

“Have you had any confrontations with League protesters?”

“No, but they’re not being let onto the premises, as far as I’ve seen, so they haven’t had the chance.”

“Have you received any threatening messages besides the obvious one?”

“No again, but that might be because my mail is going through a DTI ‘filter,’ if you catch my meaning. They might not be letting me see the disturbing stuff, if there is disturbing stuff. You’d have to ask them.”

“I see.” Isaac opened his case log and made a note to do just that. “Is there anything besides what you’ve seen on the news that leads you to believe League protesters are threatening you?”

“No, but I’m not accusing them of anything either. I just think they’re one of the parties the head could have come from. That’s all.”

“What other parties do you consider suspect?”

“No one specifically. At least on the SysGov side of the transverse. Those LAST idiots are the loudest bunch, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t others who silently agree with them. In fact, I think it’s obvious there are people like that. I haven’t been here long, but I get this impression some of you hate us because we’re different. Because we’re not as sophisticated or enlightened as you, or whatever. We’re treated like the weird new neighbor you secretly suspect is a serial killer. A lot of people have already made up their minds about us, even without looking past the surface.” She held up a hand and gestured toward him. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Isaac assured her. “You indicated there’s no one else you suspect within SysGov. Does this mean you believe someone within the Admin might be threatening you?”

“Oh, absolutely!”

“Why would that be?”

“Because I’m Lunarian, of course. Admin Lunarian. Not”—she swirled her finger to indicate their surroundings—“the other one.” She smiled apologetically. “Sorry. It’s weird having to specify that.”

“Why would you being from the Admin’s Luna matter?”

“Shouldn’t that be obvious?” she asked, but then frowned. “Right. Yeah. Guess it wouldn’t be for you.”

“Again, why would your place of origin matter in this case?”

“The Admin versions of Earth and Luna share something of a troubled history,” Susan explained. “The Admin was formed over two centuries ago in response to the Yanluo Massacre, where a rogue AI destroyed most of China, Mongolia, and parts of Russia. Our government’s primary purpose is to prevent a similar catastrophe by enforcing a set of technological Restrictions upon the member states. Some governments joined the Admin willingly, but others, such as the Lunar Federation, resisted.”

“Then we’re talking about some very old, very bad blood between Earth and Luna, correct?” Isaac asked.

“That’s right,” Susan said. “Luna has resisted attempts to integrate its populace within the greater Admin, and Lunar terrorists are a frequent thorn in our side. While Martian terrorists are often better equipped, the proximity between Earth and Luna makes terror cells like Free Luna the more immediate threat.”

“Which all boils down to people hating me because I’m Lunarian,” Sako finished.

“Have any members of the DTI disparaged your home in your presence?”

“Not really, no.”

“Not really or not at all?”

“Not at all,” Sako clarified.

“Are you aware of any of them speaking ill of Luna to others?”

“Again, no. They’re a rather stoic bunch, and Pérez keeps them in line.” She leaned back in her seat. “Even if they did believe I’m nothing more than a troublemaker from a moon full of troublemakers, they wouldn’t be dumb enough to say it out loud. At least not with Pérez in earshot.”

“What about the other two players?”

“No, nothing there either.” She sighed with a frown. “Not with my background, at least.”

“I see.” Isaac made a note regarding her Lunar heritage. “Moving on, I’d like to discuss your argument with Lacan.”

“Yeah, I thought you might bring that up.”

“Please explain what started the argument.”

“Yeah, that.” Sako slouched a little in her chair and blew out a long breath. “How to put this delicately…”

“Please be as direct as you like.”

“Fine.” She sat back up. “He was mad because I wasn’t putting out.”

“Had you engaged in sexual relations with Lacan in the past?”

Yes.” She looked away, avoiding eye contact, visibly uncomfortable with the topic.

“Recently?”

“Yeah. About a week ago.”

“Were the two of you in a formal relationship?”

No.”

“Did Lacan believe you two were in a relationship?”

Probably.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he used the L-word.”

“Love?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Before the argument, did you make it clear to him you were no longer interested in having sex?”

Yes.”

“When did you make this clear to him?”

“On the flight over.”

“And how did he take the news?”

“Like an immature little man-baby.”

“Did he threaten you on the flight over?”

“No.”

“Was the argument outside your room the only time he threatened you?”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t call that a threat.”

“I believe”—Isaac swiped to a separate sheet of his notes—“that he said he would rip off another man’s genitalia and then assault you with it. Is this correct?”

Yes.”

“Why didn’t you consider this a threat?”

“Because he was talking nonsense. Just lashing out because his dick was sad.” Sako shook her head. “Fucking idiot.”

“How long have you known Lacan?”

“About a year.”

“How did the two of you meet?”

“We’d run into each other here and there at different events, and we kept in touch while we both traveled, but there was nothing serious until the last Weltall qualifier. Well, the parties after the qualifier. We both had a few drinks and hooked up that night.”

“Where did the qualifier take place?”

“Byrgius University on Luna. Our Luna, obviously.”

“What prompted you to stop having sex with him?”

“Well…” Sako gazed off to the side, and her face took on an almost dreamlike quality. “I’m seeing this guy.”

“Would you please confirm who it is you’re seeing?”

“Wong Fei.”

“That would be the star SysGov player and, according to some, the tournament favorite.”

“Yep. That’s him.”

“Are you in a relationship with Wong Fei?”

“Yes. Oh, definitely.”

“Do you consider it a serious relationship?”

“I…” She smiled coyly. “I’d prefer not to answer.”

“When did you first meet him?”

“At Byrgius, actually. The SysGov players and some of the ActionStream staff were on hand for the qualifier. They even brought the trophy over with them. Anyway, he came up to me after I won, and we chatted for a while. And I do mean a while.” She smiled in pleasant reminiscence. “We talked for hours!”

“This would be before the parties that night?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Anything and everything. SysGov. The Admin. The tournament. Games. Ourselves. Our dreams. Our futures. Anything that came to mind, really. It was, I don’t know, just so easy talking with him.”

“Then, if I understand the situation correctly, you were being actively courted by two men at the same time, one from the Admin and one from SysGov, starting shortly after the universal qualifier.”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” She flashed a sly grin. “And, before you ask, yes, I had sex with both of them over the past month.”

“Are you sure that was wise?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve admitted to having sexual relations with two men.” Isaac sat forward. “Both of which are involved in the same high-profile tournament you’re in and are your direct competitors. That suggests to me, at a minimum, the potential for conflicts of interest.”

“You’re wondering if one or the other was trying to manipulate my feelings? Maybe to gain an edge in the tournament?”

“That’s one possibility, yes.”

Sako scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Then I don’t think you ‘get’ us gamers.”

“How so?”

“Okay, yeah, I’ve slept with them, but try to look at it from our perspective. We’re always on the move, always bouncing from one venue to the next. And between events, we sink most of our waking hours into these games, studying and practicing and refining our craft. Who besides other gamers understands this lifestyle and how lonely it can be? Who else do we see on a regular basis? You think I’d prefer to sleep with fans?” She shuddered briefly. “So yeah. Gamers like to hook up with other gamers, and we all know the relationships stop when we’re in-game. We are professionals, after all.”

“But two of them at once?”

“Look, I realize I could have handled that better. I would have broken things off with Lacan sooner, but he’s just so dumb! He couldn’t take a hint!”

“Which is why you made matters clear to him on the flight over.”

“Got that right!”

“What are your thoughts on the message itself? Specifically, the ‘leave or die’ wording.”

“Seems obvious to me. Someone wants me out of here and wants it bad enough to send me a severed head.” She sat up and planted defiant hands on her armrests. “But I’m not going anywhere, I can tell you that much!”

“Understood.” Isaac swiped to the next sheet. “There’s just one other matter I’d like to ask you about. Please describe what you were doing between the end of your argument with Lacan and when you discovered the fake head.”

“Oh, there’s not much really. I placed an order at the food printer, then watched some news while I waited. As soon as the head popped out instead of my meal, I called Pérez.”

Which lines up with the timetable we’ve put together so far, Isaac thought. A few minutes’ delay between the end of her argument and her call to Pérez.

“Thank you for your time, Miss Sako.” Isaac rose from his seat. “That’ll be all for now. We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions.”

* * *

Susan joined Isaac in the hallway outside the conference room.

“I sort of got the impression you don’t buy her story,” Susan said, using security chat for privacy. “The way you kept pressing her for information.”

“It’s not that.” Isaac started down the hallway with her. “It’s more about us staying alert for something out of place. For example, Raviv and I worked this one celebrity death threat case that burned a lot more time than it should have. The victim, a well-known speedrunner named Jay Jei Story, had us running around in circles before we finally took a hard second look at his testimony, and then we spotted the cracks. So far, I haven’t noticed anything like that with Miss Sako, and I’m not sure what the motive would be to fake the threat or how she would even do it, given her lack of experience with SysGov infosystems.” He turned to Susan as they walked. “How about you? Any thoughts?”

“Same here. Just wasn’t sure we were on the same page so far.”

“We are.”

“What are our next steps?”

“We’ll question Lacan and then Wong Fei.”

“It seems unlikely Lacan could have done it,” Susan said. “He has the same lack of experience as Sako.”

“True, but it’s the only lead we have, at least until Nina finishes sifting through that printer. Then, perhaps, we’ll have a better sense for where to take this case.”

They reached Lacan’s hotel suite, and Isaac glanced over the abstract label by the door.

“‘Grafton Wisdom Lacan,’” he read. “Rather unusual name.”

“Says the guy who recently attended a Markie Flavor-Sparkle concert,” Susan said with a half-smile.

“Point taken. Let’s see what he has to say.”

He palmed the buzzer.

* * *

“Are you really an Admin investigator?” Lacan asked pointedly, slouched at an angle against the sofa opposite Isaac and Susan, who had pulled over separate chairs to sit across from him in the middle of the suite’s first floor.

“That’s correct,” Isaac answered. “I’ve been granted temporary authority as an Admin investigator to pursue this case.”

“Is this really necessary? Pérez already questioned me.”

“I’m aware of that. Nevertheless, we will be conducting our own investigation.”

“And you think I’m involved?”

“Mister Lacan, it would be best if you leave the questioning to me.” Isaac opened his virtual notes. “The process will go more smoothly that way.”

“Fine,” he huffed, slouching even deeper into the sofa’s prog-foam. He tossed his braid, which was blonde with a single streak of black running clear through it, off his shoulder.

Do I think Lacan did it? Isaac asked himself as he spent a few moments arranging his notes. Now that is an interesting question.

It was hard not to notice Lacan’s fidgeting. He did it constantly and his amateurish attempts to avoid notice or mask the fidgeting as normal—often by scratching himself—only served to draw attention to the tic. But that told Isaac very little, beyond the obvious fact Lacan was nervous.

But why was he nervous? Was it because he’d committed a crime? Or because he was sitting across from two detectives who—he might assume, correctly—considered him a suspect?

“Hey, can I clear something up?” Lacan asked suddenly.

“You’re welcome to make a statement for the record, if you wish.”

“Look, I know I said some nasty stuff to Elly.” He sat up. “But I didn’t mean it, all right? It was all in the heat of the moment. You got that? Heat of the moment.”

Isaac glanced to Susan and spoke to her in security chat.

“I’m getting the impression his word choice carries some added weight in the Admin.”

“It does. He’s using the ‘heat of the moment’ defense.”

“What’s that mean in this situation?”

“His words to Elly could be construed as a threat of physical violence in and of themselves. From a legal perspective, I mean. However, we would have to show the words were premeditated. A ‘heat of the moment’ claim is a common defense in such situations.”

“Got it.” Isaac faced Lacan and returned to normal speech. “Thank you for clarifying that. Continuing on, I’d like to start with your confrontation this morning with Elly Sako.”

“I don’t deny it,” Lacan stated. “I was mad, and we fought. But that’s all it was, okay?”

“What prompted the fight?”

“The bi—” Lacan bit off the word, his face twisting in anger. He grunted and crossed his arms before continuing. “She broke up with me.”

“Why did she break up with you?”

“How the hell should I know?” he snapped. “I’m done trying to figure out how her head works!”

“Did she give you a reason?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And what was that reason?”

“Because, apparently, she prefers synthetic dick over the real thing.”

“Is that how she worded it?”

“No.”

“How did she word it, then?”

Lacan bit the inside of his lip and slouched back. “She told me she was seeing another man.”

“When did she tell you this?”

“On the way over from the Admin.”

“Do you know who?”

“Yeah. That ‘star’ SysGov player, Wong Fei.” He sat up and leaned forward. “You know, I bet that’s what’s going on here.”

“What do you believe is going on?”

“I bet he’s manipulating Elly,” Lacan said, emphasizing his case with a pointed finger. “Yeah, that’s got to be it. He’s using her to gain an edge. Maybe trying to get her to spill her plan prior to the finals. Hell, she might even spill my plan to him!”

“Did you tell Elly your planned strategy for the finals?”

“Yeah, but I’m not stupid.” He crossed his arms again. “I have a backup strategy no one knows about. If those two think I can be fooled so easily, they’re in for a rude awakening!”

“Why did you share your strategy with her?”

“I don’t know. Because I thought it was worth sharing, and I thought I could trust her.” He shrugged his shoulders. “How was I supposed to know she was being manipulated by that fleshless freak?”

Isaac glanced over to Susan after Lacan used the anti-synthoid slur, but she remained as cool and collected as ever.

“Did she tell you hers?” he continued.

Lacan blinked. “What?”

“Did Miss Sako tell you her strategy for the upcoming finals?”

“She…” He looked down and his jaw tightened.

“Mister Lacan?”

“No,” he said, his voice soft. “No, she didn’t.”

“I see.” Isaac jotted down a quick note.

Lacan began chewing on the end of his braid. He then realized what he was doing and tried to switch to combing the ends with his fingers.

“Why do you believe Miss Sako is being manipulated?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He tossed his braid aside.

“Please state your thoughts plainly for the record.”

“Because it’s so bizarre!” Lacan shifted forward, sitting on the edge of the sofa. “Those two just met, what? A month ago? Back at our universal qualifier? And now he has her wrapped around his little finger!”

“A month hardly seems like a stretch for a change of heart.”

“But the bloodless freak is from another universe!” Lacan snapped. “It makes no fucking sense!”

“Did you ever tell Miss Sako you loved her?”

“Of course!”

“Did she ever reciprocate?”

“She…” Lacan paused for a while. Then he shook his head. “No, she didn’t.”

Everything’s matching up so far, Isaac thought as he reviewed his notes. Besides Lacan’s accusations, I haven’t spotted a single difference between his and Elly’s stories.

He glanced to Susan, who gave him a little shoulder shrug, as if to say “what next?”

What next, indeed, he thought. This interview isn’t going anywhere. I think we’ll wrap this up and move on for now.

“Did you send the severed head to Miss Sako?”

“No.”

“Do you know who sent it?”

“No.”

“Do you suspect anyone of threatening her?”

“Haven’t got a clue. I’m new here, all right?” He raised a forearm and tapped the infosystem on his wrist. “I can’t even order a meal without this thing. And someone thinks I hacked a printer here? That’s just stupid!”

“Do you want Miss Sako to go back to the Admin?”

“I…” He hesitated with an uncomfortable look on his face.

“Mister Lacan?”

“What does it matter what I want?”

“Mister Lacan, please answer the question.”

“Fine!” he snapped. “Yeah, I want her to go home. I want her to get as far away from that metal freak as possible! Doesn’t mean I threatened her!”

“Noted.” Isaac closed his virtual screens and rose from his seat. “Thank you for your time. We’ll let you know if—”

He paused when a high-priority message intruded on his virtual sight, sent from Lieutenant Lotz. Its header flashed urgently, and when he opened the message, he understood why.

The text read: Come quick. A protester has been murdered.


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