her
features. “It’s not 3361 is it?”
“No,
Marshal,” she replied. So the scan was ten years old. “It’s
3371.”
“I
know you,” he smiled, finding his feet at last. “Veronica
Jenkins, Abe and Kathy’s girl.”
“That’s
me,” she said. “But I prefer Roe.”
“How
are they?”
“My
father still works the farm. My mother passed away a few years back.”
The
sim rubbed his chin. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I
liked Kathy.” For a moment he appeared lost in thought. “Ten
years, well, I kept my promise then.” He turned over his hand.
“It doesn’t look fake.”
“It
isn’t,” Roe replied.
“Interesting,”
he said and sniffed the new hand. “I stink.”
“Jacob?”
“Hmmm,”
he said. “Call me Jake. Are we in any immediate danger?”
“Not
at the moment,” she replied.
“Good,”
he said, picking up the blue bag, “because I need to get
cleaned up. There’s a shower back here somewhere.”
He
walked across to a cavity near the far wall and operated a tap. Water
began to spray out from a showerhead hidden in the ceiling. “Could
you turn your back, please?”
Roe
did so. Steam began to fill the Regeneration Chamber. “I’ll
leave you to it,” she said, making for the doors.
“Veronica,
can you stay please? I need to know everything that’s being
going on, including how I died.”
“OK,”
she said. The Regeneration Chamber becoming decidedly uncomfortable.
“Also,
I’d like to know where my son is.”
*
Roe
told him what happened on Main Street, how a wounded Jacob Klein had
been humiliated, and how Lucas Miller had tried to intervene. When
she told him Lucas had been murdered, he stopped listening, pulled on
his uniform, towelled off his hair, and headed for Paul’s cell.
She followed, sensing an anger in him that would not be easily
satisfied.
“Go
away, Veronica,” he ordered.
“My
name is Roe,” she said firmly. “What are you going to
do?”
“Do?”
He asked. “Why would I do anything? He only killed the best
friend I ever had. I don’t bear a grudge. His father even
killed my wife, so what? Who cares?”
“You’re
not thinking rationally.”
He
stopped halfway up the staircase. “You’re right. I don’t
even have a gun. Give me your gun, Roe.”
“No,”
she said, taking a step back.
He
held out his hand. “Give me your gun, Roe. I’m your
Marshal.”
She
looked up at him. There was a glint of madness in his eyes that she
had never seen in Jacob’s. “Please stop.”
The
sim gritted his teeth. “Why did I make you a Deputy? You can’t
even follow simple instructions. Now, hand me the gun.”
“I…
“
“Do
you even want to be a Deputy? Because I think I can do without you.”
She
pulled the gun from her holster and offered it to him. She was not
ready to give up being a Deputy just yet.
“Thank-you,”
he said and snatched it out of her hand. She ran after him as he
entered the basement.
Paul
was lying on his bunk. The two reptilian lids of his eyes, which met
in the middle, were shut. An exploding concussion bolt woke him.
“You
killed Lucas!” Jake shouted.
Paul
rolled off his bunk, and was crouching beside it, turning his head
anxiously from side to side as if he was about to spring, but he was
in a cell. There was nowhere for him to go.
“I
should just put you out of my misery right now.”
“What
are you talking about?” Paul asked. “You’re…
“ Then he realised. “You’re not the Marshal.”
Jake
fired again, taking out another part of the wall. Roe noted that
neither bolt had even grazed the bars of the cell. This Jacob Klein
was accurate all by himself.
“You’re
a sim,” Paul said, cowering beside his bunk. “So Klein is
dead.”
Jake
stood next to the cell, just beyond Paul’s ability to strike
with his claws.
“Did
you kill me too?”
Paul
turned to Roe. “Are you just going to just let him shoot me?”
“Oh
relax,” Jake said, pointing the gun at the ground. “I
just
features. “It’s not 3361 is it?”
“No,
Marshal,” she replied. So the scan was ten years old. “It’s
3371.”
“I
know you,” he smiled, finding his feet at last. “Veronica
Jenkins, Abe and Kathy’s girl.”
“That’s
me,” she said. “But I prefer Roe.”
“How
are they?”
“My
father still works the farm. My mother passed away a few years back.”
The
sim rubbed his chin. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I
liked Kathy.” For a moment he appeared lost in thought. “Ten
years, well, I kept my promise then.” He turned over his hand.
“It doesn’t look fake.”
“It
isn’t,” Roe replied.
“Interesting,”
he said and sniffed the new hand. “I stink.”
“Jacob?”
“Hmmm,”
he said. “Call me Jake. Are we in any immediate danger?”
“Not
at the moment,” she replied.
“Good,”
he said, picking up the blue bag, “because I need to get
cleaned up. There’s a shower back here somewhere.”
He
walked across to a cavity near the far wall and operated a tap. Water
began to spray out from a showerhead hidden in the ceiling. “Could
you turn your back, please?”
Roe
did so. Steam began to fill the Regeneration Chamber. “I’ll
leave you to it,” she said, making for the doors.
“Veronica,
can you stay please? I need to know everything that’s being
going on, including how I died.”
“OK,”
she said. The Regeneration Chamber becoming decidedly uncomfortable.
“Also,
I’d like to know where my son is.”
*
Roe
told him what happened on Main Street, how a wounded Jacob Klein had
been humiliated, and how Lucas Miller had tried to intervene. When
she told him Lucas had been murdered, he stopped listening, pulled on
his uniform, towelled off his hair, and headed for Paul’s cell.
She followed, sensing an anger in him that would not be easily
satisfied.
“Go
away, Veronica,” he ordered.
“My
name is Roe,” she said firmly. “What are you going to
do?”
“Do?”
He asked. “Why would I do anything? He only killed the best
friend I ever had. I don’t bear a grudge. His father even
killed my wife, so what? Who cares?”
“You’re
not thinking rationally.”
He
stopped halfway up the staircase. “You’re right. I don’t
even have a gun. Give me your gun, Roe.”
“No,”
she said, taking a step back.
He
held out his hand. “Give me your gun, Roe. I’m your
Marshal.”
She
looked up at him. There was a glint of madness in his eyes that she
had never seen in Jacob’s. “Please stop.”
The
sim gritted his teeth. “Why did I make you a Deputy? You can’t
even follow simple instructions. Now, hand me the gun.”
“I…
“
“Do
you even want to be a Deputy? Because I think I can do without you.”
She
pulled the gun from her holster and offered it to him. She was not
ready to give up being a Deputy just yet.
“Thank-you,”
he said and snatched it out of her hand. She ran after him as he
entered the basement.
Paul
was lying on his bunk. The two reptilian lids of his eyes, which met
in the middle, were shut. An exploding concussion bolt woke him.
“You
killed Lucas!” Jake shouted.
Paul
rolled off his bunk, and was crouching beside it, turning his head
anxiously from side to side as if he was about to spring, but he was
in a cell. There was nowhere for him to go.
“I
should just put you out of my misery right now.”
“What
are you talking about?” Paul asked. “You’re…
“ Then he realised. “You’re not the Marshal.”
Jake
fired again, taking out another part of the wall. Roe noted that
neither bolt had even grazed the bars of the cell. This Jacob Klein
was accurate all by himself.
“You’re
a sim,” Paul said, cowering beside his bunk. “So Klein is
dead.”
Jake
stood next to the cell, just beyond Paul’s ability to strike
with his claws.
“Did
you kill me too?”
Paul
turned to Roe. “Are you just going to just let him shoot me?”
“Oh
relax,” Jake said, pointing the gun at the ground. “I
just
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