"Fuel cell's depleted, I'd guess," called a gravelly voice from behind him. Solon turned to see a man with long graying hair leaning out the driver's side window of a black sedan. "I can take a look, if you want."
"Sure." said Solon, his hand surreptitiously moving toward the sidearm at his waste.
The black sedan slid into the driveway behind Solon's. It was a nice neighborhood, as New Liberty went. It could have passed for a suburb if not for the ancient (Darrus guessed late 20th century era) smokestack stabbing into the sky at the end of the street, dark with age in front of New Liberty's permanent haze of smoke (colloquially dubbed "The Black Umbrella").
The long haired man got out and popped the hood of Solon's car. "Sure enough, it's shot. Look here. Empty."
The gauge was on E, which didn't make a lot of sense to Solon. His dashboard indicators should have warned him when it was empty, and they had been silent. Solon detached the cell and it was light as a feather--definitely empty.
"Well, shit." he said. "I've gotta get to work."
The tall man looked up. "Where you headed?"
"Tower Zero, downtown. The big--"
"Government complex, I know. I go past it on my way to work almost every day. Hell I'll give a you a ride up there now if you want, it's on my way. You're on your own for a way home, but at least you won't be late."
"Sir," said Solon. "I appreciate your generosity, but I have to say this is a little suspicious. I'll thank you for the offer, but I'll get a cab."
"Suit yourself." said Darrus. "I know how it is; can't trust anyone these days." He reached through his window and pressed the left horn button.
*
"You all right?" asked the tall man from the driver's seat. "You passed out, so I decided to take you to the hospital."
Solon found himself buckled into the passenger's seat of the black sedan. All the windows were up. "Passed out?"
Darrus tapped the cruise control. "Yes, passed out. I'm going to drop the Good Samaritan act now, Mr. Solon, and we're going to have a conversation."
"Is that so?" said Solon, going for his gun. It was gone, the holster filled with nothing but air.
"I'll give you your gun back when I drop you off, which I still plan to do. I'm not going to injure your person, so tell me what I want to know and this will be easy."
"What do you want to know?" said Solon, willing to play ball. After all, what choice did he have?
"Shift times. When the shifts change for the first, eighth, twelfth, and sixteenth floors of Tower Zero. I want to know what positions have full clearance for those floors. I want to know which windows are monitored by the surveillance system."
"You do realize that giving out that informationis treason and could get me killed. Forget it."
"Well, I guess these will hit the press and the police stations by tomorrow, then." Darrus pulled a manilla folder from the back seat and tossed it onto Solon's lap. "Go on, take a look."
Solon opened the folder. It contained a dozen eight-and-a-half by eleven inch color photographs on extra glossy paper. The photographs showed a general continuity of Solon sexually violating a girl that he would guess was about eight years old. He scoffed. "These are fake."
"I know that. And you know that. But they're convincing, aren't they? You can't tell they're forgeries. Being accused of molestation with evidence like that against you? That'll certainly cost you your job, probably your marriage and custody of your kids, too."
"The charges will never stick."
"They won't have to." said Darrus. "Those photos are a cunning enough forgery it'll take weeks for the police to figure out they're fakes. Weeks for your superiors to heap doubt on you. Weeks for your family to revile you. Who knows, if the case is high profile enough, weeks for people to call you monster, and actually believe it. And even when they're proven false, no one's going to look at you the same. Even being accused of something like this will ruin you."
Solon swallowed.
"There we go, I knew you were a smart fellow." said Darrus. "Now then, let's play ball."
Solon found himself buckled into the passenger's seat of the black sedan. All the windows were up. "Passed out?"
Darrus tapped the cruise control. "Yes, passed out. I'm going to drop the Good Samaritan act now, Mr. Solon, and we're going to have a conversation."
"Is that so?" said Solon, going for his gun. It was gone, the holster filled with nothing but air.
"I'll give you your gun back when I drop you off, which I still plan to do. I'm not going to injure your person, so tell me what I want to know and this will be easy."
"What do you want to know?" said Solon, willing to play ball. After all, what choice did he have?
"Shift times. When the shifts change for the first, eighth, twelfth, and sixteenth floors of Tower Zero. I want to know what positions have full clearance for those floors. I want to know which windows are monitored by the surveillance system."
"You do realize that giving out that informationis treason and could get me killed. Forget it."
"Well, I guess these will hit the press and the police stations by tomorrow, then." Darrus pulled a manilla folder from the back seat and tossed it onto Solon's lap. "Go on, take a look."
Solon opened the folder. It contained a dozen eight-and-a-half by eleven inch color photographs on extra glossy paper. The photographs showed a general continuity of Solon sexually violating a girl that he would guess was about eight years old. He scoffed. "These are fake."
"I know that. And you know that. But they're convincing, aren't they? You can't tell they're forgeries. Being accused of molestation with evidence like that against you? That'll certainly cost you your job, probably your marriage and custody of your kids, too."
"The charges will never stick."
"They won't have to." said Darrus. "Those photos are a cunning enough forgery it'll take weeks for the police to figure out they're fakes. Weeks for your superiors to heap doubt on you. Weeks for your family to revile you. Who knows, if the case is high profile enough, weeks for people to call you monster, and actually believe it. And even when they're proven false, no one's going to look at you the same. Even being accused of something like this will ruin you."
Solon swallowed.
"There we go, I knew you were a smart fellow." said Darrus. "Now then, let's play ball."
*
Gerald Solon walked up to Tower Zero twenty minutes later with a manilla folder in his hand and a gun at his hip. As soon as the sedan had pulled away, he's checked the clip, and wasn't surprised to find it empty.
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