easy enough to confirm, though unless the police had a hacker of Chan’s capabilities, they probably wouldn’t find anything about Copeland. “When we got to the floor, we heard screaming and gunshots. I happened to be armed, so I went to render assistance. There was a man—I’m sure you saw him on the security cameras—who was crouched over Mr. Copeland’s coil. He started shooting and…” I shrugged and glanced about the room. “Here we are.”
“You just ‘happened’ to be armed?” Sanderson asked with an arched eyebrow.
“I work salvage, Detective. It’s a dangerous and unpredictable business. As long as the local hab… sorry, dome… laws permit, I always carry a weapon. You can never be too safe when your work often requires you to carry around easily portable and transferrable valuables, after all.” I gave him my most disarming smile, which, given the thuggish coil I wore, the pain lingering from two gunshot wounds, and my ever-growing irritation at the entire situation was, admittedly, not very disarming at all. “It seems to have proved prudent, in this case.” I offered a half-shrug, since my bad shoulder still wasn’t responding right. “I only wish we had gotten here sooner.”
Sanderson grunted at that. “I bet. And what about you?” He turned to Chan. “What were you doing while your friend here was playing shootout at the OK Corral?”
“Notifying the police, of course. And monitoring their response time.” She smiled, a “butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth” smile that was much better suited to her old coil. In the leonine surfer it looked… smug.
“I’m sure. And can either of you explain why the cameras—all the cameras in the apartment, mind you—seem to have stopped working the moment you entered the premises?”
That was a trickier one. Fortunately, Chan was quick on the draw. “We came in as soon as we heard the gunman leave. He must have done something to the camera feed on his way out.”
“And left all the other footage of him shooting the apartment’s resident and then exchanging gunfire with your friend?” Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a great response. But the officer had given us an opening, and damned if I was going to miss it.
“Well,” I said, “if you have footage of the murderer, and of us responding to the violence, please explain why we’re still wearing these.” I half-raised my arms, wincing at the stab of pain, and jangled the restraints. “It sounds like the video feeds corroborate what we’ve been telling you for the past ten minutes.”
“Yeah,” Sanderson grunted. “Seems that way, doesn’t it? But something is off with you two.”
Neither of us responded. I just kept my hands upraised, a gesture of mute supplication, and, finally, he relented. Not himself, of course. That would have been too easy. But he turned to one of the other policemen. “Get these two out of here. Make sure you have their Net IDs before you cut them loose.” We all stood, but he gave us one final, penetrating stare. “I don’t have enough to justify arresting you. Not yet. But this matter is not closed. Don’t leave town.”
It was so clichéd that I had to fight back the involuntary chuckle that threatened to burst from my mouth, no doubt a panic reaction rather than one of actual humor. There was more extradition among the domes of Mars than you might find among the space-based habitats, but even here, there were no guarantees. And if we broke atmosphere, the detective’s jurisdiction went out the airlock. But Chan and I dutifully nodded. Five minutes later, we were back out the front door, breathing free air.
“We need to get you to a doctor,” Chan muttered. “Bit, get us a car.” That she spoke the words aloud was proof enough of how distracted and worried she must have been.
“I’m okay. My nanites are taking care of it. I just need some rest. The car’s a good idea, though… I really don’t feel like walking all the way back to the hotel.” As I was talking, I was mentally composing a text. I had Sarah encrypt it and send it over to Chan. I didn’t think for a second that Sanderson had let us walk. There was no such thing as privacy, not out in the open where everything from streetlights to vending machines to the passing automobiles was equipped with cameras and microphones and other, more exotic, sensors.
I sent the message to Chan. Not safe to talk here. I got something off Copeland. Not sure what. Did you find