"Really, should I have felt that much enjoyment helping to metaphorically string Simmons up like that? Does that make me a bad man?"
"Given what he did? No... but I will remind you if you partake in that particular moment of enjoyment too much," Nene responded, smiling. Then she returned to the mess on her blouse. "Damnit, I might just have to burn this later."
Stepping into the lobby, a militiaman with a deputy's badge on his duster following behind her, Katie Roberts snorted. “You used to be a cop Romanova,” she said. “Are you telling me you’ve forgotten how to clean a drunk-stained uniform?”
Looking up, the blonde raised one eyebrow. “I was a computer technician. I tended to leave the crude thugwork to Leon and his band of apes,” she declared in a ridiculously pompous tone of voice. Grinning, she added in a more normal tone of voice, “besides, this isn’t quite as stain resistant. No teflon in it.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” Katie said after a moment, before turning to Chris, who was clearly enjoying the show. “Captain Wood, I’m Sheriff Roberts,” she said, holding out her hand. The Orion nodded politely, shaking her hand, and the Vixen smiled. “Let’s get one issue resolved nice and quickly. We’ve gone over yesterday's events, and by the laws and cultural standards of Serenity Valley, you’re in the clear.” Chris twitched in surprise, and the smile became a smirk. “Your statement’s something of a formality there really. The benefits of modern technology and AI support in criminal investigation.”
Blinking, Chris considered that. “Huh,” she said after a moment. “I’d never given it much thought.”
“Yeah, we’re not at CSI Miami level bullshit yet, but we’re making progress,” Katie chuckled. Expression turning serious again, she gestured at the man behind her. “Of course, even with that, we will still need your statement. Which is what Jack’s here for. If you’ll go with him, he can get that all sorted out.”
Looking up, Chris's eyes widened, and she barely resisted the urge to back away slightly. The militiaman was a giant of a man, at least half a foot taller than Jeph, and that sparked an instinctive fear in the tiny girls heart. "Um, kay," she said, one hand nervously playing with her ponytail.
The man smiled gently, the polite gesture reassuring her somewhat. "Right this way ma'am. Uh, sir," he said, blushing slightly.
"N-no, 'ma'am' is fine," Chris replied. "I'm going to have to get used to it..." She followed him down the hallway, still looking rather nervous.
Watching her leave, Katie turned to the other two. "Holy dammit," she commented. "I just want to hug her and kiss her and tell her it'll be all right, I'll make it all better. Then kiss her again."
Jeph snickered. "Didn't know you swung that way," she commented.
"Far as I know, I don't," she replied with a shrug. The two blondes blinked at that, but she was already walking off, gesturing with one hand for them to follow. "Thanks for dropping the anvil on Simmons," she said. "Certainly saved me a lot of trouble. Which, given I'm not supposed to even be working at the moment, is very much appreciated,” she said dryly.
Giggling, Nene sped up so she was walking along next to her. "Aw, did someone's vacation get ruined?" she asked.
Glancing over, Katie gave her an irritated look. “Romanova, by now, I was expecting to be stretched out on a beach, wearing very little and admiring good looking young men also wearing very little. Instead, I’m still here on Ganymede, dealing with a freaking attempted murder investigation, data theft, and the media deciding to send its finest morons to try and rub their dicks all over everything.”
“...Charming description,” Nene decided.
Behind them, Jeph laughed. “Oh please. I know you. You could have been on that beach, having the time of your life. The moment the news reached you, you’d be on the first ship you could find, trying to make them get you back here even faster. You’re just fishing for sympathy,” she accused, still smiling.
Grinning, Katie could only nod. “Guilty. Is it working?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Well darn,” she sighed, opening the door to the Mayors office. “I come bearing a SMOF and a hacker,” the Vixen announced. “Handle with care.”
Looking up from his paperwork, Malcolm Reilly grinned, rising to his feet and holding out a hand. “Jeph, Nene, good to see you.” As Jeph accepted the handshake, he paused and looked her over. “I thought you were trying to calm down?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m calm…er,” she replied with a smile.
“He was fine until we caught Simmons broadcast,” Nene explained, getting an understanding scowl from the older man.
“Ah, yes, I can see how that would have made you shift,” he grumbled, shaking his head in disgust. “Nice work on him, by the way. I doubt the old media Earth-side would approve, but then, I sometimes think professionalism is an alien concept to them these days.” Pausing, Malcolm scratched at an itch on his neck and considered the pair. “I have to ask, did you contact his boss, or did she…?”
Nene gave him the smile of a woman enjoying herself far too much. “She actually called Chris on the way here. Most of that show out there? Her idea. Including dropping the militia on him for the security footage,” she added, resisting the urge to cackle.
Katie took over the explanation, leaning against Malcolms desk. “She claims that Simmons neglected to share where he got any of his information from,” she noted, “and did point out that even if he had, it’s the Networks official policy to not reveal any of their sources, should they wish to remain anonymous.” Jeph grumbled slightly at that, but the Sheriff merely shrugged. “I can see where she’s coming from. Even with the current headache Simmons dropped on her, she can’t afford to go naming names there. Any network that caved in to the authorities like that would suddenly find that no one was willing to talk to them, no matter how nicely they paid.”
The holoprojector on Malcolms desk powered up, Athenas avatar appearing above it. “In any case, ISNs cooperation may not be necessary,” she told the mayor. “The theft of the security footage from MacDonald Memorial was committed by an AI, one of... questionable ability.” She shook her head sadly, a craftswoman’s response to sloppy work. “I’m confident I know who it is already, and you should have sufficient evidence for an arrest warrant by the end of the day.”
“Any theories as to why they did it?” the Mayor asked.
“If it’s who I think it is?” Athena replied. “They’re a troll, nothing more. A little vandal that thought it was funny,” she grumbled, folding her arms under her breasts.
Katie considered that for a moment, then sighed and closed her eyes. “Ah. I shouldn’t even be surprised.” Malcolm gave her a curious look, and she waved a hand. “It’s not important right now. Just a troublemaker I’ve warned before. I think we can safely say it’s under control.”
Malcolm looked skeptical, but nodded. “If you say so… then we’ll move on to the main issue. Please, have a seat, all of you.” The three women all pulled up chairs as the Mayor returned to behind his desk. “So, unless you were lying to the reporters Jeph, I take it you’re planning to not get involved on the legal side of things?” he asked.
“It’s for the best I don’t,” she replied. Leaning back in the chair, she looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “We’ve put a lot of work into building a judicial system, and it’s not supposed to have me meddling with things all the time.” Looking back down at Malcolm, she gave the man a grin. “Sorry Mal, you’re stuck with the headache there… And you’re not looking even remotely surprised,” she realized, eyes narrowing.
Folding his hands over his stomach, the Mayor gave the SMOF an amused smile. “Because I know you. And I know that, even when you’re worked up enough to shift, you can recognize when you’ll make a situation worse.” His smile faded slightly, expression becoming more serious. “I wanted to talk to you about trying to stop this from happening again.”
Frowning, Jeph started to reply, then paused and considered the man in front of her. “You’re not just talking about kicking the Professor out,” she said at last.
Nodding, Mal picked up a tablet and passed it over to her. “This is the first draft of a proposal Katie and I have been working on,” he explained as JMC’s lord and master began to read through it. “I’m planning on presenting it at Bubblecon next month, for inclusion in the Articles of Convention.”
Catching a glimpse of the title, Nene snickered. “Proper Feeding and Care of Extreme Mads,” she noted. “Nice title.” Getting out of her chair, she leaned over Jephs shoulder. “Huh… This is… well, it’s rough, but it’s got potential.”
“Most of the Mads that have really the bad days,” Katie commented, “and I mean blind-to-reality, trapped-in-whatever-kicked-off-their-current-obsession bad, they’ve always got helpers. Usually androids they created themselves, actually. The Professors assistants, Peter’s Angels, Gina and the Roughriders-” Jeph and Nene both stifled laughs at that. “It’s like the ‘Wave recognizes that they’re not going to be very good at paying attention to things they should. Like food. Airlocks.” She paused, amusement fading. “And, on occasion, the fact their experiment wants absolutely nothing to do with their crazy ass.”
Placing his hands on the desk, Malcolm leaned forward. “I realized something last night,” he admitted. “It’s been nearly eight years since the Professor pulled all that nonsense in France.” Both Jeph and Nene glanced at him in surprise, and he nodded. “For at least eight years, his assistants have been looking after him. Not always in ways the rest of us would consider appropriate,” he muttered, shaking his head, “otherwise they’d have knocked him out long before he decided to steal a nuclear weapon…”
“But he’s alive and well,” Nene mused. “And no one’s ever heard of someone getting killed in his Science moments.”
Nodding, the Mayor rubbed at his beard. “The closest we’ve ever come, as far as I know, was yesterday. And that was Miss Glear, not the Professor himself. For eight years, they’ve been watching out for him. Flesh and blood or advanced android, that’s a heck of a stressful job.”
Looking back down at the tablet again, Jeph frowned. “You think that had something to do with yesterday?” she asked. “Stress isn’t really a justification for attempted murder.”
Leaning forward in her chair, Katie shrugged. “No, it isn’t. But it’s the start of an explanation. And it’s a warning. This happened once, sooner or later, it’s going to happen again, and next time, someone might just end up dead. Now, we could go with the suggestions of some of the fine legal and ethical minds on the various fenspace forums. Round up all the Mads and kick them out an airlock before they go crazy!” she declared, her expression a mix of disgust and contempt.
“Stop reading alt.Turner,” Nene scolded. “Or, we build a support network for the Mads assistants, to help them stop things from reaching a point like yesterday.”
Snapping his fingers, Malcolm grinned at her. “Exactly. But if we’re going to do this, we need to do it right,” he declared. “Not just the Independants doing it for our stray Mads, or the Federation for some of their really bad Scotties. This needs to be a Convention project.”
Biting her lip, Jeph considered it for a moment. “You know, I’d say more than a few of those assistants do already keep in contact, or at least share notes,” she mused. “What would be really useful is if we could get some of them involved in this.” Glancing back up at the Mayor, she grinned. “I’ll give this a once-over, see what suggestions I can make. And I’m assume you’d like me to quietly forward it to some of the other SMOFs as well?” she offered.
The Mayor nodded. “If we can get this put together into something the various faction heads can agree on before Bubblecon, selling it to the Convention proper will be a lot less stressful,” he said.
“Not a problem,” she assured him, noting that she should probably see into getting the ‘Head Mayor’ of the Independant Faction onto the Mailing List. Maybe through the position instead of the person… “I’ll take care of it.”
***
"Given what he did? No... but I will remind you if you partake in that particular moment of enjoyment too much," Nene responded, smiling. Then she returned to the mess on her blouse. "Damnit, I might just have to burn this later."
Stepping into the lobby, a militiaman with a deputy's badge on his duster following behind her, Katie Roberts snorted. “You used to be a cop Romanova,” she said. “Are you telling me you’ve forgotten how to clean a drunk-stained uniform?”
Looking up, the blonde raised one eyebrow. “I was a computer technician. I tended to leave the crude thugwork to Leon and his band of apes,” she declared in a ridiculously pompous tone of voice. Grinning, she added in a more normal tone of voice, “besides, this isn’t quite as stain resistant. No teflon in it.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” Katie said after a moment, before turning to Chris, who was clearly enjoying the show. “Captain Wood, I’m Sheriff Roberts,” she said, holding out her hand. The Orion nodded politely, shaking her hand, and the Vixen smiled. “Let’s get one issue resolved nice and quickly. We’ve gone over yesterday's events, and by the laws and cultural standards of Serenity Valley, you’re in the clear.” Chris twitched in surprise, and the smile became a smirk. “Your statement’s something of a formality there really. The benefits of modern technology and AI support in criminal investigation.”
Blinking, Chris considered that. “Huh,” she said after a moment. “I’d never given it much thought.”
“Yeah, we’re not at CSI Miami level bullshit yet, but we’re making progress,” Katie chuckled. Expression turning serious again, she gestured at the man behind her. “Of course, even with that, we will still need your statement. Which is what Jack’s here for. If you’ll go with him, he can get that all sorted out.”
Looking up, Chris's eyes widened, and she barely resisted the urge to back away slightly. The militiaman was a giant of a man, at least half a foot taller than Jeph, and that sparked an instinctive fear in the tiny girls heart. "Um, kay," she said, one hand nervously playing with her ponytail.
The man smiled gently, the polite gesture reassuring her somewhat. "Right this way ma'am. Uh, sir," he said, blushing slightly.
"N-no, 'ma'am' is fine," Chris replied. "I'm going to have to get used to it..." She followed him down the hallway, still looking rather nervous.
Watching her leave, Katie turned to the other two. "Holy dammit," she commented. "I just want to hug her and kiss her and tell her it'll be all right, I'll make it all better. Then kiss her again."
Jeph snickered. "Didn't know you swung that way," she commented.
"Far as I know, I don't," she replied with a shrug. The two blondes blinked at that, but she was already walking off, gesturing with one hand for them to follow. "Thanks for dropping the anvil on Simmons," she said. "Certainly saved me a lot of trouble. Which, given I'm not supposed to even be working at the moment, is very much appreciated,” she said dryly.
Giggling, Nene sped up so she was walking along next to her. "Aw, did someone's vacation get ruined?" she asked.
Glancing over, Katie gave her an irritated look. “Romanova, by now, I was expecting to be stretched out on a beach, wearing very little and admiring good looking young men also wearing very little. Instead, I’m still here on Ganymede, dealing with a freaking attempted murder investigation, data theft, and the media deciding to send its finest morons to try and rub their dicks all over everything.”
“...Charming description,” Nene decided.
Behind them, Jeph laughed. “Oh please. I know you. You could have been on that beach, having the time of your life. The moment the news reached you, you’d be on the first ship you could find, trying to make them get you back here even faster. You’re just fishing for sympathy,” she accused, still smiling.
Grinning, Katie could only nod. “Guilty. Is it working?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Well darn,” she sighed, opening the door to the Mayors office. “I come bearing a SMOF and a hacker,” the Vixen announced. “Handle with care.”
Looking up from his paperwork, Malcolm Reilly grinned, rising to his feet and holding out a hand. “Jeph, Nene, good to see you.” As Jeph accepted the handshake, he paused and looked her over. “I thought you were trying to calm down?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m calm…er,” she replied with a smile.
“He was fine until we caught Simmons broadcast,” Nene explained, getting an understanding scowl from the older man.
“Ah, yes, I can see how that would have made you shift,” he grumbled, shaking his head in disgust. “Nice work on him, by the way. I doubt the old media Earth-side would approve, but then, I sometimes think professionalism is an alien concept to them these days.” Pausing, Malcolm scratched at an itch on his neck and considered the pair. “I have to ask, did you contact his boss, or did she…?”
Nene gave him the smile of a woman enjoying herself far too much. “She actually called Chris on the way here. Most of that show out there? Her idea. Including dropping the militia on him for the security footage,” she added, resisting the urge to cackle.
Katie took over the explanation, leaning against Malcolms desk. “She claims that Simmons neglected to share where he got any of his information from,” she noted, “and did point out that even if he had, it’s the Networks official policy to not reveal any of their sources, should they wish to remain anonymous.” Jeph grumbled slightly at that, but the Sheriff merely shrugged. “I can see where she’s coming from. Even with the current headache Simmons dropped on her, she can’t afford to go naming names there. Any network that caved in to the authorities like that would suddenly find that no one was willing to talk to them, no matter how nicely they paid.”
The holoprojector on Malcolms desk powered up, Athenas avatar appearing above it. “In any case, ISNs cooperation may not be necessary,” she told the mayor. “The theft of the security footage from MacDonald Memorial was committed by an AI, one of... questionable ability.” She shook her head sadly, a craftswoman’s response to sloppy work. “I’m confident I know who it is already, and you should have sufficient evidence for an arrest warrant by the end of the day.”
“Any theories as to why they did it?” the Mayor asked.
“If it’s who I think it is?” Athena replied. “They’re a troll, nothing more. A little vandal that thought it was funny,” she grumbled, folding her arms under her breasts.
Katie considered that for a moment, then sighed and closed her eyes. “Ah. I shouldn’t even be surprised.” Malcolm gave her a curious look, and she waved a hand. “It’s not important right now. Just a troublemaker I’ve warned before. I think we can safely say it’s under control.”
Malcolm looked skeptical, but nodded. “If you say so… then we’ll move on to the main issue. Please, have a seat, all of you.” The three women all pulled up chairs as the Mayor returned to behind his desk. “So, unless you were lying to the reporters Jeph, I take it you’re planning to not get involved on the legal side of things?” he asked.
“It’s for the best I don’t,” she replied. Leaning back in the chair, she looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “We’ve put a lot of work into building a judicial system, and it’s not supposed to have me meddling with things all the time.” Looking back down at Malcolm, she gave the man a grin. “Sorry Mal, you’re stuck with the headache there… And you’re not looking even remotely surprised,” she realized, eyes narrowing.
Folding his hands over his stomach, the Mayor gave the SMOF an amused smile. “Because I know you. And I know that, even when you’re worked up enough to shift, you can recognize when you’ll make a situation worse.” His smile faded slightly, expression becoming more serious. “I wanted to talk to you about trying to stop this from happening again.”
Frowning, Jeph started to reply, then paused and considered the man in front of her. “You’re not just talking about kicking the Professor out,” she said at last.
Nodding, Mal picked up a tablet and passed it over to her. “This is the first draft of a proposal Katie and I have been working on,” he explained as JMC’s lord and master began to read through it. “I’m planning on presenting it at Bubblecon next month, for inclusion in the Articles of Convention.”
Catching a glimpse of the title, Nene snickered. “Proper Feeding and Care of Extreme Mads,” she noted. “Nice title.” Getting out of her chair, she leaned over Jephs shoulder. “Huh… This is… well, it’s rough, but it’s got potential.”
“Most of the Mads that have really the bad days,” Katie commented, “and I mean blind-to-reality, trapped-in-whatever-kicked-off-their-current-obsession bad, they’ve always got helpers. Usually androids they created themselves, actually. The Professors assistants, Peter’s Angels, Gina and the Roughriders-” Jeph and Nene both stifled laughs at that. “It’s like the ‘Wave recognizes that they’re not going to be very good at paying attention to things they should. Like food. Airlocks.” She paused, amusement fading. “And, on occasion, the fact their experiment wants absolutely nothing to do with their crazy ass.”
Placing his hands on the desk, Malcolm leaned forward. “I realized something last night,” he admitted. “It’s been nearly eight years since the Professor pulled all that nonsense in France.” Both Jeph and Nene glanced at him in surprise, and he nodded. “For at least eight years, his assistants have been looking after him. Not always in ways the rest of us would consider appropriate,” he muttered, shaking his head, “otherwise they’d have knocked him out long before he decided to steal a nuclear weapon…”
“But he’s alive and well,” Nene mused. “And no one’s ever heard of someone getting killed in his Science moments.”
Nodding, the Mayor rubbed at his beard. “The closest we’ve ever come, as far as I know, was yesterday. And that was Miss Glear, not the Professor himself. For eight years, they’ve been watching out for him. Flesh and blood or advanced android, that’s a heck of a stressful job.”
Looking back down at the tablet again, Jeph frowned. “You think that had something to do with yesterday?” she asked. “Stress isn’t really a justification for attempted murder.”
Leaning forward in her chair, Katie shrugged. “No, it isn’t. But it’s the start of an explanation. And it’s a warning. This happened once, sooner or later, it’s going to happen again, and next time, someone might just end up dead. Now, we could go with the suggestions of some of the fine legal and ethical minds on the various fenspace forums. Round up all the Mads and kick them out an airlock before they go crazy!” she declared, her expression a mix of disgust and contempt.
“Stop reading alt.Turner,” Nene scolded. “Or, we build a support network for the Mads assistants, to help them stop things from reaching a point like yesterday.”
Snapping his fingers, Malcolm grinned at her. “Exactly. But if we’re going to do this, we need to do it right,” he declared. “Not just the Independants doing it for our stray Mads, or the Federation for some of their really bad Scotties. This needs to be a Convention project.”
Biting her lip, Jeph considered it for a moment. “You know, I’d say more than a few of those assistants do already keep in contact, or at least share notes,” she mused. “What would be really useful is if we could get some of them involved in this.” Glancing back up at the Mayor, she grinned. “I’ll give this a once-over, see what suggestions I can make. And I’m assume you’d like me to quietly forward it to some of the other SMOFs as well?” she offered.
The Mayor nodded. “If we can get this put together into something the various faction heads can agree on before Bubblecon, selling it to the Convention proper will be a lot less stressful,” he said.
“Not a problem,” she assured him, noting that she should probably see into getting the ‘Head Mayor’ of the Independant Faction onto the Mailing List. Maybe through the position instead of the person… “I’ll take care of it.”
***