Cognitive Deviance

74. Credible Sources

October 30, 2045 - 9:50 AM

Carl smoothed his hands through his hair. The Psych Expressors illustrating the sketches of Whitey and Crimson rested on the silver table before him. Any minute now, an individual more machine than man would take the seat before him and determine whether he'd see his dear old friend Margo Sandoval again. The individual, one Jack Holloway, was more of a utility than a colleague, Carl realized. They kept him around, but why? Of all the choices that went nowhere, why allow him a further directionless pursuit?

Mason doesn't even believe you, Vince said. What makes you think she'll believe Holloway when he says he's seen them?

"I don't know, Vince," Carl said. "You seem to spend more time with him than anyone else in here. How about you tell me?"

I take over because I know you're not as strong as you used to be, and I say that as your friend and protector.

"Yeah, well, neither is he. The poor bastard had cameras jammed into his eyeballs, only to have them removed again. He doesn't even try to be funny anymore, not that he ever was."

That doesn't imply weakness. That only implies he's probably angrier than he's ever been.

"You're talking more than usual. What's going on here?"

There was silence in his head, yet it told him everything he needed to hear.

"Maybe I should be asking you if you've seen these twins. You were down in the Rabbit Hole for a while, after all. I hardly saw a thing. What are you not telling me?"

Nothing you don't need to know.

"Well, I might not need to know. But Mason needs to know. That overrides everything else, pal. So are you gonna tell me what you saw or what?"

Silence again. Carl felt as if his skull were a vacant auditorium, his voice bouncing off the walls, missing every set of ears but his own because he was the only one willing to listen. He did a lot of talking, but longer than he could remember, he'd been the only one listening.

"Carl," Nikki said through their pieces. "Are you ready for him?"

"Ready as I'll ever be. Send him in."

Carl flinched as metal banged against metal, and as he gazed above, he saw a panel sliding away on the ceiling. A holo-projector floated down from the slot before suspending itself three feet above the table. The device rotated with the caution of a mother reaching for her child, and once its lens faced away from Carl, the holographic likeness of Jack came into view out of a smoky, silver haze.

"Holloway," said Carl. "Long time no see. Hope Psychwatch is still finding new uses for you."

The young officer's hair was trimmed down to a buzz cut, a faded layer of hair daubing his scalp. Rendered monochrome by the holo-projector, he appeared far more lifeless and mechanical. The blue in his eyes was black, like a sheet of ice above the world's deepest lake, barricading curious explorers from a treacherous abyss. A cybernetic eye inhabited the spot where an organic eye once rested, blown open by Slater with a stunner months ago in the Rabbit Hole. The pupil dilated flinchingly, like a a defective camera lens, gazing off into worlds beyond even Psychwatch's reach.

"Jesus," Carl said. "What have they done to you?"

"Still trying to make me more human, I guess," Jack replied, his voice low and gravelly. "Doesn't look like they've been doing a good job, does it?"

"I...well..."

"Right. Another Psychwatch officer is the last person I should ask that."

"Yeah, well," Carl said, "I'm sure this is just part of the redemption therapy."