“Really?” Beth asked. “Seems like an easy get-out-of-jail-free card.”
“Not really,” Marcus said. “The data that makes up their brains will get to carry on its own existence, but that doesn’t mean the organic person gets to experience any of it. When they die, as far as they are concerned, they’re dead. Life ceases for them.”
“I’ve heard that theory,” Beth commented. “The example I’ve heard is that it’s essentially a form of cloning. It’s not like the two copies share a consciousness, just mental makeup. When the original animal dies, it’s not like its spirit — or soul, or whatever — is transferred into the copy. It just stops existing.”
“That’s right,” Marcus replied. “It’s why we don’t consider mankind to be immortal — yet.”
“But is there any proof of this theory?” Beth asked. “The I.I.s seem pretty convinced they are who they were copied from.”
“Of course they do; they have all the same memories. To them, it felt like they lived their entire organic life, went to sleep, and woke up a computer program. There’s nothing to make them feel like a whole new person.”
“Then we can’t be certain,” Beth said.
“I suppose not, but just because something cannot be proved doesn’t make it untrue.”
“That’s a dangerous way to start thinking,” Beth pointed out. “Especially for a detective.”
Marcus closed up his lunch bag and put it back down under his desk. He wiped his hands and mouth clean before tossing the napkin.
“Either way,” he said, still chewing a little, “Simon Mendez, Jr. was released from prison and allowed to live out his life as a ‘free’ I.I.”
“They released him just like that?” Beth asked.
“Well, no, there was an evaluation, of course,” Marcus replied. A report on Simon’s hearing appeared on Beth’s C.C. “They make sure everyone is mentally adjusted for freedom before they let them go. They take into account the full scale of the prisoner’s crimes, their behavior since, and their time served and weigh them all accordingly. That’s why you’ll never hear of someone with multiple life-sentences getting released this way. Terrorists and mass murderers are exactly the kind of people willing to kill themselves to reach a goal.”
“Well, at least there’s some sort of failsafe,” Beth said. “Though, if it were better, we wouldn’t have to investigate the deaths of poor Mr. and Mrs. Mendez.”
“Assuming the son is the culprit,” Marcus said.
Beth shrugged, then made a beckoning gesture to her partner.
“Well, come on, then,” she started. “What happened after he was installed?”
Marcus got up from his chair and stretched. He remained on his feet as they spoke.
“Believe it or not, Simon started making a name for himself on a few anti-human discussion boards online,” Marcus answered.
“Really?” Beth asked. “He became an I.I. supremacist so fast?”
“Dunno if I’d call it fast,” Marcus said. “He started appearing on these websites about eight years ago, four years after his organic death. It seems that his dislike for human authorities, especially his own parents, fueled his anti-human sentiment until he joined the radical I.I. militia we know today as the Liberators.”
“Simon joined those terrorists?” Beth inquired. “That group led by the Tarov fellow?”
“That’s the one, though it had different leadership when Simon joined,” Marcus said. He paused for a second. “Sorry, I’m reciting this information as I’m retrieving it. Bear with me.”
Beth waited in silence while her partner went through the relevant data. She peered over his desk to see if he’d forgotten any chips, but to her disappointment, he had eaten his entire lunch.
“There we are. Sorry,” Marcus said, breaking the silence, “some of these records are harder to find than others.”
Beth dismissed his apology with a wave. “Go on,” she urged.
“Well, it seems like Simon was an active member of the Liberators for several years, participating in a number of brutal slayings and terror attacks. He was one of the few Liberators who escaped after that failed plot of theirs to cut off the water supply in the Mojave region.”
“I remember that,” the woman said, scanning the relevant news story that appeared on her display. “One of their biggest bungles, if I remember right.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t good for them at all, but they maintained steady recruitment after that, somehow,” Marcus said.
“So Simon is still killing humans for the Liberators, it seems,” Beth thought aloud.
“Actually, that’s where it gets interesting,” Marcus countered. “I just found this police report from earlier this week. Here.”
The text filled Beth’s eyes, and she mentally focused on bits and pieces at a time. Marcus didn’t wait for her to read it herself.
“Now, I’ve only just found this, but it seems to me that some Liberators caught in a recent bust have mentioned Simon by name,” he said.
Beth had just gotten to that part in the report. She looked up at Marcus with surprised eyes.
“They say he’s ‘gone rogue’?” she asked. “What does that mean?”
“He’s fled the Liberators,” Marcus answered. “The terrorist group that he’s been a prominent member of for years is now trying to hunt him down.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know,” Marcus said. “At least, not yet. But it seems he royally pissed them off. Their leader is calling on all Liberators in the area to stop what they’re doing and bring Simon in, or delete him. They want this guy dead. I wonder what he did.”
“Does it matter?” Beth asked. “He sounds like our guy. Rogue or not, he’s the leading suspect in a double murder. It’s our job to bring him in.”
“Then we better get to work,” Marcus observed. “If we want to find him before the Liberators do, that is.”
But where to start? Beth wondered.
Trishilan
Beth frowned as she looked over her files. She wondered how Marcus was able to compile so much information on Simon and access it with such ease.
Organization’s just one of those adult things I’ve yet to master, she thought.
She scrolled for what felt like ages, trying to get any records on the suspect’s social
