Sector 8 was defined by its sterility. The jet-black roads were spotless, the steel megaliths sleek, the holographic advertisements as minimalist as humanly conceivable. The only imperfection of this serene city were the shuttle streams high above; most shuttles who went into Sector 8's airspace voluntarily turned themselves over to Ainsel AI's autopiloting network. It made for no traffic and seamless movement, but looked rather messy, like ants crawling over one another. Caroline, Marvin, and Amir flew in a lower shuttle stream meant for shuttles that didn't give themselves over to the AI. Better to be as careful as possible.
Their destination was not in the city proper, but in the field of dark grass that surrounded the Sector like a miniature badlands. Out there, clean-up drones wandered aimlessly amidst probe-lights, ancient generators, and flat warehouses.
Amir directed their shuttle to a particular warehouse—a morgue that had been abandoned a few months ago. They landed on the grass and walked into a room that was nowhere near as big as the building. It was completely empty, save for two concrete doorways in the back that gave way to staircases. Between them was an elevator, its screen flashing Out Of Order.
Marvin blinked at the separate paths, all leading underground. He searched for an emotion. Even though this was the best lead he'd gotten on his body, he was almost certain it wasn't here at this morgue. Things were never this easy.
Amir approached the staircase on the left and flicked on a flashlight. Marvin unfolded his arm shield, while Caroline drew another flashlight. Amir had admitted he didn't know why the morgue was abandoned.
"The day you died, Marvin," he had said, "this morgue received a body from an anonymous source. Then, days later, it was shut down."
It could have been a coincidence, but it was more exciting news than anything Marvin had heard in the last two months.
They cautiously made their way down the stairs, darkness overtaking them. Despite the ground floor's clean and empty look, the stairway quickly devolved into a mess of water and cables. Marvin didn't mind, but he pitied Caroline and the police chief as he heard their shoes squelch.
They reached the end of the stairs and entered a long room. In the darkness, Marvin could have mistaken this for a laundromat. But as his companions' flashlights swept over the walls and floor and as his cameras adjusted, he made out rows upon rows of drawers and screens, some displaying NID numbers and names, others flickering and glitching. The floor was covered with puddles and remains of medical equipment. Lamps and table legs hung limp and disfigured.
Abandoned was the wrong word. This place seemed to be the aftermath of some zombie outbreak.
"Look for his NID and name," Amir said, pointing to Marvin.
"Are you sure Hosaka doesn't have cameras here?" Caroline asked.
"If they did, they wouldn't have left it in this state," the chief replied.
Marvin, Caroline, and Amir split up. Marvin made his way to the far end of the room, ducking under lamps and stepping over overturned tables. His eyes adjusted well to the darkness, but that didn't stop him from feeling unnerved. He wasn't afraid of something jumping out and hurting him—Caroline had upgraded his cyborg body and it was nearly as strong as a mech now—but he was scared of finding something he didn't want to find.
He looked for Yao among the surnames displayed on the shelves. He found one, and his circuits almost jittered with excitement, but he quickly noticed the first name: Francis. And he thought his first name was lame.
Marvin trekked deeper into the room, farther from Caroline and Amir. The ceiling creaked eerily, sometimes in sync with his footsteps, sometimes on its own as if there was a harsh wind blowing. Winds never got that high in the megacity.
As the list of names dwindled, Marvin started observing the surroundings, trying to discern what made the morgue like this. There were no burn marks, meaning a bomb couldn't have gone off, and there were no dead bodies lying around either. He imagined someone walking through here, simply wrecking everything in sight. That was honestly most plausible.
Look at you, being a detective. It was embarrassing to admit, but Marvin had been watching detective shows when he wasn't hanging out with his friends or training. He told himself it would help with finding his body.
The creaking got louder as he neared the edge of the room. Still no sign of his name. He sharpened his cameras on the screens that were glitching, hoping to make out a word or two. He thought he saw Park, and although he instinctively thought of Saeyung and Sunwoo of Ainsel AI, he reminded himself that Park was a very common name.
He stopped at the wall and did one last scan of the screens. Despite his superhuman processing ability of words and symbols, he did not spot any resemblances to his name or NID.
As he turned around, he heard the creak crescendo above him. He froze and looked at the shelves, presumably filled with corpses. One of the doors was slightly ajar, and Marvin could see the edge of a bed peeking out.
Just then, there was a crash. Then a scream.
Marvin spun around and drew both daggers. Caroline was stumbling away from a few beds that had fallen from their shelves. Amir placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her, and turned to Marvin.
"Sorry!" he called. "We tried opening your locker."
"You found it?" Marvin asked, running over to them.
"Yeah." Amir pointed to one of the beds on the floor. "Empty, though."
Marvin slowed his approach. Of course it was empty. Would it ever be so easy?
"This is good, Marvin," Amir said. "We know you were here at some point. We just need to figure out who brought you here the day you died, and who took you afterwards." He tossed his flashlight in satisfaction. "But with any luck, we might know that already."
Marvin tilted his head. If only we had this guy from the start. Unfortunately, Amir had been investigating a series of murders in Sector 8 until recently, so it was hard to blame him. The other Inspectors and police officers didn't want people looking into Marvin's death, or were prone to attracting Marvin's killers to finish the job.
"Ainsel AI," Caroline said. "They owned this morgue, didn't they?"
Amir nodded. "I don't think they're responsible for it looking like this, but they should be looked into." He cast a dark glance around the room. "And not just for this."
Caroline grinned and looked at Marvin. "We're in good hands, don't you think?"
Marvin grinned back. "How do you guys even know each other?"
"Family friends," Caroline said.
That was what Caroline had said many months prior, too, but Marvin still found it strange. He recalled Amir's hand on Caroline's shoulder, holding her upright. Something about it seemed oddly familial.
-----
When they were above ground and standing in the grass again, Amir pulled Caroline aside. The sky was dark and the probe-lights blinked as they were periodically concealed by long green blades. If the city weren't looming behind them, they could have been standing in a sea of satellites.
"Do you have another few hours?" Amir asked.
Caroline frowned. Usually this kind of discussion was conducted in minutes. "Why?" she asked.
"You remember the murders in this Sector, right?"
Caroline nodded and glanced at Marvin, waiting patiently off to the side. The first serial killer in years was on the loose in Sector 8, and Ainsel AI and the police had tried hunting them down to no avail.
"All the victims were traced to this Sector's psych ward. They've all stayed there at one point in their lives," Amir explained. "And yesterday, I went back and found something strange. One of the patients—a little girl—has started drawing pictures of you."
Caroline felt a chill go down her spine. She pictured the faces of all the girls she knew, but they were very few and all around her age.
"How little?" Caroline asked.
"Thirteen."
"What's a thirteen-year-old doing in a psych ward?"
"They say she tried to burn her parents alive."
Caroline winced; that would do it. Maybe the girl had seen a picture of her on TV and had developed some sort of obsession. Maybe she was drawing a completely different person.
"Do you think I'll recognize her?" she asked.
"If you do, it'll help a lot with our case," Amir said. "And if you'd be willing, I'd like you to meet her."
Caroline glanced at Marvin, then at the morgue, then back at the chief. She had a lot on her plate with mech-fighting and Marvin's investigation, but there was no harm in helping stop a serial killer.
"Alright," she said.
They told Marvin about the plan. Amir offered to fly Marvin home first, but Marvin insisted that he could get back by himself. He'd get dropped off at the tram station, then ride the monorail to Nagatown.
"I'll get Renee to pick you up," Caroline said.
"It's okay, she can get me at Nagatown," Marvin said.
Caroline furrowed her eyebrows and nodded reluctantly. Even if no one knew who Marvin was, him being a cyborg was bound to attract some attention. Still, the trams had Inspectors as security, which made them the safest method of transportation.
Caroline and Amir dropped Marvin off at Sector 8's tram station, bid him farewell, and joined the shuttle stream bound for the city's hospital.
Drawing pictures of me, Caroline thought, tapping her index finger and thumb. What happens if I know this girl? What's Amir gonna ask of me next?
She supposed she could always bail if she felt it was getting dangerous. For now, she just wanted to make sure this girl at the psych ward did not want to kill her.
The hospital was the brightest building in the night skyline, a white and silver obelisk with a massive blue cross on all four walls. The psych ward was near the top, its designated landing pad jutting out from the tower, overseen by a panel of large windows. It reminded Caroline of Luyan's workshop. She wondered how Ella was doing.
As they neared the landing pad, Caroline noticed two police shuttles already there, blue and yellow lights flashing violently. Caroline leaned forward, curious; it didn't seem like Amir had expected company.
Two officers were standing at the entrance. They wore blue uniforms, carried tranquilizer rifles, and moved stiffly.
"Sir," one of them said as Amir stopped in front of them.
"What's going on?" Amir asked. Before the other officer could reply, he said, "Nevermind that. Is Maria safe?"
The officers exchanged a frightened look. "That's what this is about," one of them said.
Caroline widened her eyes. Had someone harmed the suspect? Had she committed suicide?
Maria. The name didn't ring a bell.
Amir pushed past the officers with a curse and Caroline followed on his heels. One officer tried to block Caroline with his arm.
"This is who she was drawing," Amir snapped, waving him aside.
They entered a white hallway with rooms on either side, some empty, some sealed by heavy doors. Farther ahead, more police officers were gathered around a door, blocking it off with yellow tape.
Caroline and Amir quickened their pace. Maria was definitely compromised. Most likely dead. A thirteen-year-old girl who allegedly tried to kill her parents. Caroline wasn't sure if her frustration was rooted in the right place. Did she feel sad only because this was now another mystery unsolved?
They reached the door and Amir asked one of the officers to let them through. The officer asked who Caroline was, and Amir explained again why it was imperative that Maria was alive.
To that, the officer shook her head sadly.
Caroline swallowed as Amir peered through the doorway. He cursed quietly. Was she supposed to still look inside? If the girl was dead, what did it matter?
Amir turned back to Caroline and took a deep breath. "You don't have to look if you don't want to."
But I should, Caroline thought. It'd be progress for the case anyhow if I recognize her. It would be less of a mystery for myself.
"She hanged herself," Amir said. "If you walk two steps forward and turn 90 degrees right, you'll see her immediately. The officers don't want to pull her down until they're sure what happened."
Caroline nodded. You've seen dead people before. You even killed Gerard. Just look at her face and check if you recognize her.
"Again, do not do it if you don't want to," Amir repeated.
I do want to.
Caroline put her right foot forward. Then her left. The yellow tape and the open door was on her right. She turned and raised her gaze.
Maria's eyes were closed. She had short, black hair and an innocent, round face that swayed every so slightly in Caroline's narrow field of view.
One second passed. Two. Three. Caroline fought to keep her gaze from wandering.
I've never seen her before. No matter how many leaps her brain made, she could not place Maria's features.
But as she was about to turn away, she felt a prickling sensation in her head. Pins falling. Sharp stabs of pain.
Caroline couldn't avert her gaze from that unrecognizable face. Before she could understand what was happening, she involuntarily opened her mouth and screamed.