Riri's IBWGoLI Journal

[Esiris]

Smoke dulls the edge of my anxiety; the blurs of notes and photographs on my desk look less like maddening puzzles and more like Monet.

Suspects, incompetent detectives and a Judas of a client. I gave up on my glass and drank from the bottle. Grey light outlines the the office as the street lights blink out. Compulsive pencil tapping kicks up graphite dust.

The lack of sleep is getting to me. I lean back to rest my eyes. Too far back. Adeline shocks me as I flail. Glossy photos and short hand notes fly. I pull myself off the floor then freeze, my eyes lock on the smudge. The faint imprint of the client's gaudy cufflink is etched into the stained hide blotter, accented with pencil dust.

“How could you be so ******** stupid?” I banged my head once on the desk.
It not blackmail, it's fraud. The shadow lurking around the estate was given the access code. The client had thrown up red herrings right and left. His wife was beside herself the whole time. Just a ruse to convince the illustrious matriarch Madam Austinborne that her wastrel son was blackmailed by a mistress, mother of his illegitimate heir.

Young Mrs. Austinborne was the key. Her pale knuckles and watery eyes weren't those of a shamed socialite. They were the sadness of someone who was broken by a seventy-something bully after a perfect doll for a daughter in law. That waif couldn't stand up to the woman. Not for herself, not for her b*****d kid.

I had to hand it to Mr. Austinborne. It was commendable standing by his wife's side and even looking after a child that wasn't his. I checked the revolver. “If you hadn't framed me, I would have just walked away.”  

[Esiris]

Watching her gave no clues. The woman's movements were flawless, but not uncanny. Models were getting better and it was almost impossible to tell the difference between the androids and real people. Angela broke her coffee mirror with a sip and gave an awkward smile to her date.

The screen over the bar buzzed an alert to breaking news. A new wave of vandalism hit the merchant district, targeting the high end automaton retailers. The stiff midnight news anchor delivered lines perfectly as images of slashed fake faces dripping with hydraulic ooze were shown in rapid succession. “No one has claimed responsibility for the recent vandalism, but it is thought to be connected to last week's Humans First Rally at the Capitol” droned the pleasant voice.

Angela broke her eyes from the screen and then glanced at the raven of a woman. “I'm having a lot of fun.” She stretched her hand across the table.

“So am I.” Clair took the offered hand. “Those riots. I wish people could just leave those poor creatures alone.”

Angela relaxed her grip, feeling the warm pulse of Clair's hand. “Creatures? You talk about them like they're alive.”

Her thin hand pulled from Angela's and replaced the black tress behind her ear. Angela felt the distance.

“Not alive, but real enough.”

The date ended abruptly as Clair was called into work. Her ER was closest to the riot.

“Can we do this again next week?”

Clair smiled. “I'd like that.”

Once home Angela slumped into her chair in the sparse room. They'd only known each other for a few weeks and had only been apart and hour and she already missed her. To dull the pain and pass the time, Angela powered down for the night.