Tick Tock Part Four - The Mouse Fell Down

R J Appleby

It was raining as Nines entered the old docks near the Jericho wreck. It was also late. After leaving the precinct, he'd returned to the penthouse and made arrangements with Roland to provide care for Pipsqueak. He was cleaning the place anyway, and it was better for Pipsqueak to maintain some semblance of familiarity rather than being uprooted and passed around different homes. With that sorted, and needing nothing more from home, Nines had left. His thirium pump whirred softly as he recalled Pipsqueak's almost pleading mewls. Though he didn't understand what was said, he'd picked up on the fact that Nines was leaving. On a regular working day, that wasn't a problem, but he seemed to understand that this absence would be a prolonged one.

As Nines headed for the door, Pipsqueak had followed and hurriedly overtaken. Standing in the doorway, he'd mewled and pawed his slacks, looking up with big sad eyes until Nines lifted him. During their brief interface, his distress had been palpable. He'd already lost Gavin, so to be left by Nines was unacceptable. Nines did what he could to reassure him with their limited language capabilities. He offered reassurance that he would return and that he would bring Gavin with him when he came home. Knowing how hard Nines had been trying, Pipsqueak had allowed him to leave, albeit reluctantly.

Colin had also contacted him about his plan. Connor had called. As was his duty, Nines shared what he'd learned from Fifty-Seven and the AHL network. The footage of Gavin at the docks was new, so it warranted fresh eyes. Nines wasn't sure if the FBI had checked in or not, but he needed to do his own investigation to ensure nothing was overlooked. After so long, there would be no physical evidence, however there was a chance the dock itself held a record that could lead him to the boat. It was unlikely the Hickory Killer knew his boat had been seen. If he was still using it, he may be able to trace it. If he could find a pattern with the comings and goings, perhaps he could figure out where it went.

Looking at the dates the various bodies had been found, he could estimate when the boat should have been docked. Even if he used a different dock each time, if he could find the boat's identification, he could track it. Computer records, paper records, it didn't matter. Nines would go to each office, by day or night, to look at those lists. The FBI would doubtless do the same, which was why this trip was so important. If the FBI took those records, he'd have to ask Colin for access or hack into their database, which would be difficult. It crossed his mind that he could hack Colin directly, but he was reluctant to do such a thing to either of his brothers. He loved them dearly.

The docks from the footage were old and disused, with only one lone office that kept track of the ships coming and going. The place was uncared for, with only one lone human working there. He was old and wiry, more at home sitting in his wooden cabin with his cosy floor heater than wandering up and down the pier. That certainly explained how Jericho went so long without notice. What did this old man care for the comings and goings of a few rickety androids? If they didn't bother him, he wouldn't bother them. The man looked up as Nines knocked. He was huddled in a thick coat with a flask of hot tea, and only the small light shining on his desk as he read the paper lit the cramped space.

"Pardon the intrusion. I require information about one of the boats that docks here." Nines remained cordial, speaking in his usual business tone, but also drawing himself up to his full height and playing into his intimidation protocols. Underserved as it was, he knew he was more likely to get answers if he leaned into his more abrasive attributes. It certainly had the desired effect. The old man paused, plastic cup halfway to his lips, as he stared at him open-mouthed. It was almost like he'd never seen an android before.

"Y-you-what-now?" The man was truly speechless as he stared at the imposing figure in the battered old doorway. It was pouring with rain outside, and the last thing he'd expected in this weather was for an android to turn up looking for information. Nothing ever went on in this part of town. He almost thought he was hallucinating as he stared at the water dripping from Nines' dark hair, watching droplets fall to trickle down his pale cheeks. His silvery eyes were outlandish and sharp, but there was an underlying softness that made him a little less fearful as he ducked his head and stepped inside.