Artificial Mates - Chapter 30

Our supposedly quick visit to the Police station near our apartment turned out to be not so quick. Inspector Najja met us personally and dragged us back to his cramped office. When all I wanted was to get in bed and sleep.

“Miss Kerry, I’m ready to pay a nice sum to get your companion to work here. I have the resources, I think he will fit just fine,” he smiled as we both settle down on cheap plastic chairs. What with the cheap furniture? And that was not what I wanted to hear. I thought our visit was about my version of what happened with Jay Dawson, not Demos’ job interview. I saw Demos nod eagerly from the corner of the eye with a grin on his face.

“Grant is in a repair shop—Dr. Churchill just told me he would be very angry if I send one of them again for repairs. I’ve made a promise and I intend to keep it,” the inspector got off his chair making it creaked in the progress. He went through an old metallic drawer of a horrid olive green. Pulled out a clear plastic sheet with tiny red text printed over it.

“Here,” he pushed in on the desk. “If anything happens to him, the city of Kumari R2 Police Department will take full responsibility and will pay for whatever damage. It will come with insurance in the line of duty,” I squinted my eyes to read the text. Damn, I hate official blabbering.

“That’s a contract?” I hesitated and looked up at Demos who got closer to study the doc.u.ment. Inspector Najja smirked at me while crossing his legs under his filthy glass desk.

“It is an official job offer. If you sign it now, as from tomorrow Demos will be a member of the Delta Rapid Intervention Force,” he announced with a hint of pride. I narrowed my eyes at him. It was scary—the name sounded scary. I turned to Demos with concern.

“Please, sign it,” he tipped his chin at the doc.u.ment. I didn’t want to however, I’ve promised I’ll try. He was making this difficult—he seemed so happy about it. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans.

“You really want this?” I asked praying he would read the hidden message I tried to convey. All traces of joy drained from his face. He was serious. Dead serious. Shit!

“Yes, I do,” I exhaled giving up. My heart raced as I reached on the pen from the inspector’s messy desk. I wanted to keep him locked in a bas.e.m.e.nt so nothing like happened to him. No plasma blade. No other women, nothing. It kills me to know Grant went through all this—pain. That he will be alone in that workshop. I did shed a tear when I had to let go of him. Even though he looked sad, he promised to be home tomorrow first thing in the morning. I blinked at the doc.u.ment on the table the pen hovering over the space designated for my signature. I let out a shaky breath and quickly signed the damn thing. The inspected retrieved it in fear I might change my mind. He rounded his desk to stand next to us.

“You won’t regret it,” he turned to Demos and patted his back. “You’ll fit right in,” he laughed. I was already regretting it. “You must be about the same size as the D8 boys. They are not chatty but they do a damn good job. Also, I’ve to run the tactics programs for you,” he turned to me with a smile. “I’ll give you the manuals, which you’ll read and sign,” I arched my eyebrows at him. What more boring stuff to read? He nodded at the door, Demos followed him out, I painfully got out of my chair to join them. All I wanted was to lay in bed.

“You’ll have to install the combat program special for the job, laws, and procedures. Don’t worry they are Sognare’s approved. I’ve already checked with them then I installed them for Temus. I sort of knew you were destined to work here!” he smiled over his shoulder. A cop who believes in destiny, really? We marched between tight-fitted cubicles with artificial typing rapidly on keyboards paying us no attention. We went to the far end of the room where the inspector led us to a small locker room, an old human officer who has piled up some extra centimeters around the waist got up from behind his desk. He smiled and his white mustache seemed to smile too.

“Thomson! This is Demos he is a new recruit,” they both nodded at each other. “Do you have something to fit him?” the old man went to the locker in the far end of the room. The whole place was covered with that horrid olive green as if some giant monster puked all over it. It made me nauseous. Thomson pulled a couple of black shirts still sealed in their plastic bags. Demos yanked his shirt off mindless of the people around him. More precisely, mindless that I turned red from head to feet. He tossed his shirt at me that I clumsily caught and turned my face away.

“A little too tight,” he said as he slipped into the uniform. The old man went through the locker, verified the tag before handing him another one. Even though I was uncomfortable, my eyes followed Demos as he put it on and it fitted like a glove.

“How do I look?” he swirled around with a huge smile.

“Good,” I gave him a nervous grin. But, damn, he was more than good. He was s.e.xy in that uniform. I never knew I had a thing for uniforms. He totally got me into a new fetish. Tall, s.e.xy, cop. I rolled my eyes mentally. What a cliché. They went on to talk about procedures, which I didn’t pay any attention to. I signed more paper that I didn’t read since Demos said they were ok. I will trust his words. Finally, they took my testimony. By noon, I was dying—literally.

We walked back to our apartment. A couple of blocks separated us from the eighty-eight-floor building. The streets were almost deserted, sad grey houses stood on both sides.

“Please, I just want to go home,” I pulled on Demos’ arm. My feet hurt from the walking around and standing in the Transfer. He looked down at me with a warm smile.

“You still have to eat, let’s eat out,” I gazed at him with surprise. That was unusual. A flash of what happened at Sognare’s little back office popped up. Demos took me in his arms his whole shaking. He did say he was scared. I wanted to know what happened to him, however, I’m a coward. I shook my head to make the bad feeling go away.

“I’m broke, remember!” I frowned at him and at the memory. He slipped his hand in mine pulling me closer.

“It doesn’t have to be something expensive,” he grinned. Since when were we a married couple stressing over where to eat and how much it will affect our budget?

“I guess, you’re right,” I mumbled under my breath and let him lead the way. We turned the corner to our thrift shop, next to it were small food stalls mostly serving fast food or noodles. I got myself a bowl of noodle soup with crispy chicken topping. The cheapest one on the menu. The picture promised a nice looking bowl and delicious fake meat. The real thing looked like a pale replica of the picture. There was only one other customer slurping from his bowl on a corner of the long table. The whole room was painted in signal red with a skinny red table glued to the wall and high stools. Harsh neon lit the colored posters of noodles from heaven. That was a false advertis.e.m.e.nt. In the background, a pale copy of oriental music too low to identify in what language that high-pitched woman was singing. I sat perched on a stool with my bowl when I noticed Demos standing by the door.

“Come sit with me,” I called. One side of his lip curled up.

“I can’t,” he simply stated. The guy sitting at the far end looked up from his bowl. He knocked on the little window through which the meal came from. It opened, a tired Chinese woman peeked at him. He paid for his meal and quickly walked away. The little window slammed shut making me jump.

“It’s ok, I’m a customer they wouldn’t mind,” I waved at him. Demos reluctantly pushed away from the entrance and came to stand next to me. I didn’t know artificial didn’t like restaurants. Well, this place was far from being five stars but what’s the big fuzz?

“I can’t sit on that thing,” he whispered pointing at the tall stool. I rolled my eyes at him remembering his weight issue.

“Oh, right! Sorry forgot about that,” I patted his arm with sympathy. “I’ll be quick,” he gave me one of his slow smile making my heart leap.

“Don’t, it will upset your stomach. I don’t mind. Just—take your time,”‘ I dug in my noodles to ease my racing heart, they tasted flat and cheap just like I expected it but it filled my belly to the rim. I pushed the bowl away got up, knocked on the window and paid for the meal.

“Done!” I couldn’t drink the soup else I would explode. Demos grinned at me.

“Next time I’ll pay for your meal,” I stood on the tiptoes and left a greasy kiss on his cheek.

“Sure! Mr. Patrol agent!” I giggled. He narrowed his eyes at me with mischief. I giggled as I run out into the street and he tried to catch me. We went home hand in hand like a real couple.

“I have an idea,” I turned to him. “Let’s throw Grant a welcome party!” his eyes lit up with joy.

“Sure! But we’re broke,” he pressed his lips together. I held onto his arm as we got in the hall of our building. Jil stood in her usual spot with a smile.

“Welcome, Miss Kerry, De. How’s Grant,” I quickly let go of Demos.

“He will be back tomorrow,” I announced then I lowered my eyes. “Mm, thanks for helping us,” Demos pulled me closer to him and kissed my temple. I looked up at him a little stunned. Jil grinned at us.

“I’m just happy to help. Don’t worry—it’s not just my money. Every artificial in the building contributed when they heard what had happened to Grant. He is such a gentle one, we have fallen for his charms,” I turned to Demos with a puzzled look. He laughed at Jil’s revelation.

“Yeah, Grant is a superstar here. I wouldn’t use the word charming but it might be something along those lines,” I frowned at him. He didn’t clear my confusion.

“I don’t get it? What does that mean?” he chuckled looked away from me.

“We meet every day in the hall when all our chores are done. We sit and chat among ourselves. We like Grant he is cheerful. Not all of us are programmed to bring joy. He is—” she paused to search for the right word.

“A ray of sunshine!” I added. Jil grinned from ear to ear.

“That’s a lovely way to put it—very poetic. It fits Grant,” I nodded at her. Maybe I had the wrong impression of Jil. Maybe I was just jealous.

“Well, have a nice day Jil,” I waved at her and went to the elevator while dragging Demos along with me. He gave me curious looks without comments.