The blonde girl marched out of the double glass doors on the ground floor, trying not to appear harried, but her stiff shoulders and slight trembles of the hands was obvious to Lira, who kept her eagle-like green eyes trained on her from two storeys above. When Ari disappeared into a pod car destined for Area Seven, Lira turned to face her empty office. The three large screens that took up most of her office walls showed Ari at different times: the left was of her landing amidst the rubbish-strewn roofs of Area Nine, the panel frozen; the right was of her several days prior, watching the first news broadcast of her sister's disappearance, also a frozen panel; the middle was of the interview just now by the new group of Peacekeepers Lira had created.
Lira waved her hand. The video zoomed to Ari's face, pinched and wary. She maintained good eye contact, Lira would give her that, but everybody lied. Inevitably, there would be ulterior motives and deceit, and her job was to expose it.
"That's a bit far for my taste," said Ari in the video. She clasped her hands in front of her, minimising the space her body took up. Her voice was a little too monotonous in a desperate attempt to sound uninterested.
"That's what we thought, too. You reside in Area Seven, correct?"
"Yes."
"So you are saying you never set foot in Area Nine on the evening of Wednesday 8th?"
"Or ever. I have nothing to do in the poor residencies."
Unnecessary added detail. Quel stiffened in the video. Her attempt to distract the interrogators by riling them up through arrogant words worked – for the new Peacekeepers, at least. Lira's eyes flicked back to Ari, speeding up the video.
"Just one thing more. Does the name Kena mean anything to you?"
"Never heard of this person."
Keenness to follow a change of topic; how typical. Lira flicked her finger; the video paused. Ari's pale face filled the screen, bright blue eyes able to meet the interrogator's eyes head-on, but expressed obvious wariness. Understandable, given the circumstances, but Lira was sure there was more to that security. A small grin lurked always at the corner of Ari's mouth, but the rest of her face showed no congruent emotion.
A few times during the interview when Quel revealed more than Lira would have liked – she lamented getting such an inexperienced User as a new Peacekeeper – there were sparks in Ari's eyes. Even without the footage cementing her lies, Lira had a feeling she was guilty. They always lied. It was ludicrous Ari thought she could get away with trespassing in different areas of the city without being caught on camera. March City never slept and security was always tight. It was human nature, after all, to want to do something for a loved one. Lira played the right-sided video. The blood drained out of Ari's face when the news announced her sister missing – genuine emotions, no guardedness, no wariness. And then she was off, leaping through the skies, utilising her ability out of boundaries and breaking more city rules. When a User felt she was above punishment and city law restrictions, it was no surprise she'd trespass, and certainly had no right to complain in the face of inevitable repercussions.
And the Transformer had plenty coming, once Lira received permission from the judicial system.
A quiet knock at the door caught her attention. Through the one-sided glass door, she saw Quel in his green cloak, fiddling with its hem. He was worried. It wasn't unusual; anxiety was a commonly displayed trait by Users in her presence. The haughtiness he displayed with the Transformer was nowhere in sight. She waved her hand, turning off the screens, before allowing the door to slide open.
"Lira," he said, bobbing his head, keeping his eyes downcast. Lira leaned against her smooth metal table, arranging the stray paperwork into order. "I hope the interrogation was satisfactory?"
"Yes." Lira scanned him with her grey-green eyes: a short boy, probably one that wouldn't have made it as a Peacekeeper through the traditional route of intense training and filtering. But his role wasn't as a traditional Peacekeeper; no, he was part of her own group of Peacekeepers who obeyed her and only her. He carried out tasks without questions and was relentless in his pursuit of the goal. That was why he was hired. She didn't want him to know he'd revealed too much, not when this could play in their favour. This dispute and unease from the terrorists would soon end once Lira had enough information and allowed them to play long enough.
"I believe she's lying." Quel's face coloured; the muscles along his jaw tightened. "There's no way she hadn't been there if her DNA was found, and the Transformer was known for breaking the city rules and being in restricted place at inappropriate hours. It's about time she gets punished justly for all the times she's flouted the laws—"
"I don't have the time to listen to some unvented grudge you have against the Transformer."
Quel flushed even further at the snub.
"N-no. Of course not." He swallowed audibly. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"No. My Investigators will take it from here."
"Oh." His shoulders sagged in disappointment. Lira turned her back on him. Did he really expect a lowly Peacekeeper would be privy to high-security information and counter-terrorism tactics? How frivolous. He, too, would lie, although with this new promotion, he should have no motivation to be deceitful at the moment. She paused, and turned back round.
"Wait... there is something you can do for me."
He lifted his head, his face bright and hopeful.
"What's the name of that Peacekeeper friend the Transformer has? The one who has never pursued punishment when she uses her powers out of bounds."
"Shon."
"I'm transferring him to Area Three to overlook reconstruction of the examination domes. I can't have him muddying the water and twisting the laws in the Transformer's favour. Can you arrange the paperwork for me?"
"Of course. A-and he's to be punished?"
This is a sadistic one, mused Lira, noticing the gleam in those dull eyes. He found pleasure in the punishment of others. He reminded her of Cryo. Perhaps this was vengeful thinking from his pre-Peacekeeper days. That sense of justice would be in her favour, however.
"In due time. Until then, I need him closely monitored. Anything out of place I want that reported to my Investigators. Can you do that for me?"
"Absolutely, Lira," he said her name like it was liquid gold. Lira fought back a shudder. What a sycophant.
"You're dismissed."
Quel bowed deeply and shuffled out. Lira waited until he was far down the corridor before waving at the computer screens, which switched on again. Tapping on the virtual keyboard that popped up on her desk, she summoned the judicial program. It wouldn't do for an average citizen to realise how the judgment worked in March City.
She pressed her palm against the reader that slid out and then entered the passcodes when prompted. The room dimmed. A database opened, showing all the recent criminal entries she'd made, most of them regarding the terrorist attacks. A few were related to failed exams and one was a break-in and theft in Area Seven. The sentences had passed, awaiting processing by the Investigator who made the entry to carry out the punishment. Credit deductions for failed exams, with about a third of them repeating the academic year. The break-in merited full credit deduction for a month and Peacekeeper monitoring and extended curfew for that period, meaning extracurricular activities and work reduced to a minimum. Perhaps harsher than Lira herself would have sentenced, but she would never doubt Central Administration's justice system.
Lira remembered the girl who'd begged during the trial, which was videoed and analysed by the main system. She'd claimed bullying by a boy who resided in Area Seven, whose flat she'd broken into. She claimed it was because he stole the project she'd worked on for months. Lira had been present at the trial, and her senses at the time told her the girl wasn't lying. She had quite a convincing account of the events leading up to the break-in, and the boy, the 'victim' did not. In fact, with his fidgety presence, avoidance of gazes, and defensive outbursts Lira was sure he was guilty of something. Nevertheless, the girl committed a crime, and she was punished. The boy's punishment was still pending review, although unrelated to that trial, and so she didn't access the files.
The system would have its reasons for such punishment. It was faultless.
Lira entered the information she'd gained on Ari during the interrogation and linked the video excerpts purporting to her role in the terrorist attacks. Pausing, she then added her own suspicions for the system's consideration. When the details were complete, she submitted it. With a beep, the file lined up beneath the pending section, awaiting the system to weigh the pros and cons and ultimately decide on an outcome.
The system was perfect. It had access to all the information ever generated in March City: all the scores, monitoring cameras, purchases, credits earned – everything. It kept all the Users in line and ensured everyone was a productive member of society, who earned their places with no infringement of rights. Lira was proud to be trusted with use of this system, created by the first Users of the city to keep the place peaceful and functional – and in order to do that, the pestilent must be removed.
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