This will hopefully cascade into an ongoing series for me. The basic premise is that the story unfolds in a near future where the right has been able to control the political agenda for the past several decades. So in addition to playing with the fun SciFi gadgets and how they affect society I get to play with how bad things could get for society if things don't change in November.
Ringing. Not some clumsy, archaic bell. He'd grown up with enough of those. No, it was of a delicate electronic chirp. It really was a chirp, like a bird, though who knew what kind anymore. The electronic part came from the speaker built into his night stand. Bolted on was more like it, he couldn't afford the nice furniture with built in SmartNet links. So he'd bought one of the bolt on kits. They used to be fashionable, now they just looked like a bit of technology bolted onto an antique, ugly.
Ringing, chirping, whatever, it was getting louder. He ignored it though. It wouldn't do him any good of course. The AI built into SmartNet knew enough to push through calls that he should get while screening all of the spam that came through.
"There is a call for you from Detective Peter Hastings, Minneapolis Police." It was a soothing female voice. He ignored it as well. What the hell did Pete want? He wasn't working for the force anymore, not even under contract. He was sure it wasn't for his charming personality.
"There is a call for you from Detec..." the SmartNet started to say again, he interrupted it.
"Take a message," He said, throwing a pillow at the night stand.
"There is a call for you from Detective Peter Hastings, Minneapolis Police," came the SmartNet's voice, muffled under the pillow. "This is a priority communication."
God Damnit. "Answer," he said, grabbing the pillow back.
"Hey, Connie," Pete's voice was a whiney and annoying as ever. He never could handle listening to the sniveling, worthless... "Hey, do you think we could get you on a contract for a few weeks?"
"No," he said. "Disconnect, set privacy mode." the SmartNet chirped in happy accordance. He hated happy accordance. If he had any ambition he'd re-program the damned things, or choose a different interface template that didn't fucking chirp.
Ringing. Connie slid out of bed and padded into he bathroom. He didn't do too bad, he only ran into the wall once. He lifted the lid to the toilet, then thought better of that. "Fuckit," He said, sitting down. He held his spinning head in his hands. At least he still had enough wits about him to keep from pissing all over the bathroom.
"There is a call for you from Detective Peter Hastings, Minneapolis Police." the SmartNet said in the other room. He was glad he hadn't put anything in here, even if it did mean he didn't get to read any webzines while he was on the can. He picked up an old flimsey that he'd downloaded a couple issues of New York Magazine to and scrolled through it.
"There is a call for you from Detective Peter Hastings, Minneapolis Police. This is a priority communication."
Connie let the appliance spew it's message into the bedroom. He finished his first order of the day and pulled back the curtain next to the toilet a bit. Right on time. The cruiser had seen better days, it was probably as old as the kid driving it. Well, he'd have a few moments before they decided to override the SmartLocks and let themselves in. Long enough to at least get some pants on anyway. He wondered what had gotten Pete so worked up that he'd send rollers to pick him up.
"I shoulda said yes," he mouthed to the mirror, pulling his pants on. He managed to find a shirt before the kid from the roller walked into his bedroom.
"James Constance?" The young man asked.
"No, I'm the tooth fairy," Connie said. The kid sighed and hit a button on his scanner. It too was probably older than he was. Most of it was black, but it was clear where it had been repaired with parts from grey and charcoal colored units. The things were made to last forever, and the MSP/PD was putting that theory to the test. The scanner measured Connie's iris and several other biometrics, besides his implants.
"I'm here to escort you downtown," The kid said.
"ooo," Connie intoned. "You make it sound like a bad cop thriller."
The kid was humorless though, not that he blamed him. He probably had to put up with far too many jokers like Connie everyday. He was probably lucky that the kid didn't cuff him and just haul him off for failing to identify himself properly to a police officer.
"Elizah, where's my other shoe?" He asked the SmartNet. He'd dropped on next to the bed, but the other one was missing. The 'net scanned the house and honed in on the partner shoe's rfid chip.
"Your other shoe is in the living room," the AI said. AI, Connie smirked. Almost Intelligent. It described so well most of the people he worked with. Elizah made him think he'd never stopped working. Connie muttered and stomped off to the other room in this small apartment. There it was, lying in the middle of the floor, just waiting to grace his foot.
"We need to go Mr. Constance," the kid said, he'd followed Connie in here. He was so cool behind those magic Ray Bans. He was probably checking the feed from the car and any of the light poles in the neighborhood. It was amazing how much information these kids could process at once these days.
Connie slipped into his shoe and grabbed his pistol from the coffee table. It slid comfortably into his wais band at the small of his back. He thought he caught the kid sneer a little at him. Was it jealously, or disgust? Who cared? His gun might be considered an antique, but it was pre-smart gun, it worked everywhere and thanks to congress it was perfectly legal, grandfathered in.
"Alright," Connie said, motioning to the door, "Shall we?" he asked.