Next of Kin

Chapter Ten: 27%

Ten, 27%

Jenel's guard grabbed my shoulder and I nearly wet myself. She smiled, or at least, I thought she was smiling, through the pixelation. She nodded, and he dragged me away. He took my down a set of stairs leading into an apartment building. I walked with him down a long hall. I wondered, idly, if I was going to be shot in the back, but I knew the audience could still see me, so I was trying to keep my head.

I noticed a flurry of action from the chat window, and one name stood out among the crowd. “ShartGurgler: Turn around and break that shotty off in his crap tube.”

I ignored the 'advice.' I didn't seriously think I was about to die, but if I did, I definitely wanted to die with a little dignity.

The hall dead-ended at a door. When it didn't open in front of me, I knew I was about to be shot. I thought about trying to delete any links I had to porn or dirty jokes, so my mom wouldn't find them going through my effects, but none of it was well-organized enough to actually be dealt with in the time it would take for a man whose face I couldn't even see to raise a shotgun.

I shut my eyes, and tried to imagine a pleasant afterlife, but it ended up more of a waiting room populated with people I liked enough to remember but couldn't think of anything to actually say to. Then I heard the door in front of me unlock. I glanced behind me, and the shotgun guard was gone.

I walked inside the mostly-dark room. There was a single lamp on a small table between two chairs. My lenses automatically adjusted to the low light in the room. With the adjustment, I could see a thick, marginally overweight man with a hairline that had only started to recede, somewhat hidden by the fact that he kept all the hair on his head buzzed short.

I sat across from him.

“Do you know why I'm here?”

“I heard what happened. You're Conrad, right? He told me about you. He was kind of proud.”

“That's me,” I said.

A message obscured him for a moment. “Investigator Tip: It is important to build rapport during an interrogation. A subject will more freely converse with an advocate when they think they will be listened to, and not immediately suspected.”

“What should I call you?”

“Jim is fine,” he said.

“What'd you hear about John?”

“I heard he's dead.”

“Investigator Tip: When confronting a subject, several indicators can express deception. These include, but are not limited to sweating, increased heart rate, spending too much time thinking about a response that should not require analysis, or expressing an emotion inappropriate to the situation. However, it is important to rule out other potential interpretations for apprehension, however, to prevent accusing an innocent person.”

New tools popped up in the bottom right of my interface, beside the chat. The first was a heart-rate monitor, the second showed a human brain, and highlighted points of activity. It was taking readings directly from his interface and giving them to me.

“Where'd you hear that?” I watched both his heart-rate and his brainscan.

“Mutual acquaintance.”

“That's a strange name. Middle Eastern?”

All-caps drew my attention to the chat. “ShartGurgler: RACIST!”

“She's got a name, all right?” Jim said. “But I don't sicc advocates on people I care about. She's somebody who cared about him a hell of a lot more than you.” He seemed to notice a discrepancy. “Just because I said he was proud of you, doesn't mean he fooled himself into thinking you cared about him.”