Cloudless Night in Neon WInter

One flicker of inattention can lead to the formation of undesired opinions, control the details, and blind those that stare for too long. –Management Code 9733

Cole awoke refreshed, his mind banishing all memories of his dreams to slumber in a dark corner. With the extra energy of the morning, Cole set about cooking himself a meal from the forgotten preserved ingredients in his cupboard. The rubbery texture of generalized plant matter always tasted delectable when mixed into a meat paste and layered over a piece of bread.

As he ate, Cole looked out of his window. The beauty of the city was more prevalent at night, but the charm could still be noticed subtly during the day. Automated shades struggled to life in the sky, to begin their daily battle at holding back the sun's light, casting sparkling reflections across some buildings. A faint curtain of dust whipped through the streets, creating a soft blanket that allowed only a few lights to peek through.

Dust storms were common in the city, a near weekly occurrence that signified the decay of a city that had stood for centuries. Without the shades in the sky, the weather became unbearably hot, but Cole was not too sure about their effectiveness. It seemed like a band aid slapped onto a gaping wound as temperatures still hit scalding highs.

Cole pulled on his uniform and made his way to the bottom of his apartment building. Instead of leaving through the front door, Cole joined a short queue in front of another small elevator, the dust and the heat made traveling above ground an uncomfortable endeavor, so Cole decided to take a transport that morning. 

Cole had used above ground routes for most of his time working at the company, but the dust storm had looked particularly fierce, and he wanted his uniform to be clean when he entered the crime scene.

Soon it was Cole's turn and he stepped into the elevator. It groaned as it sank rapidly, and Cole closed his eyes, the elevator was too brightly lit. As the doors noisily opened, Cole stepped out, opening his eyes. If they hadn't been closed, they would have needed a second to adjust to the dimly lit underground. 

The underground was a series of tunnels and as Cole navigated his way forward, a rush of air brushed past his face. Cole sighed as he turned to see a vehicle speeding into the darkness. The underground was always busy. 'I should hurry up.' Cole stopped, looking at a detailed map projected in front of his eyes. He took the next turn, walking through a smaller tunnel that opened to a dingy station.

A large rail was attached to the ceiling of the tunnel, and people were piling past a small unmanned kiosk. Cole joined the throes of passengers, and tapped the flashing screen as he passed the kiosk, /-233/ blinked into his vision. Cole groaned and kept moving. 

There were too many people at the station, and as he bumped around the crowd of bodies, Cole caught a tapestry of unpleasant scents. There were the usual stenches of sweat and oil, with a mixture of different artificial perfumes that clashed with each other. Cole ignored the smells and was soon standing before the large rail.

A large tube hurtled by, suspended off of the ground. It did not slow for an instant, meaning it was already full. A few moments later, another tube screeched to a halt and throes of people hustled through the doors that opened. Seconds later, the doors slammed shut and the machine hurtled away.

Inside the tube was barren, no seats or handrails, just an open cabin, with windows to look out at the tunnels. Cole found a place to stand by a window, the car was packed with people, but looking out the window always made Cole feel as if he was alone. The dim tunnels that housed rail for the tube were expansive, and their darkness made them feel limitless.

Standing up in the tube as it sped through the tunnels at blazing speeds was simple, but Cole never liked the feeling of the enhanced gravity that kept his feet glued to the floor, or the effort it took to make a single step. It was like there were magnets on his feet, but there was no extra pressure on his upper body. 

The trip did not take a long time, and the view was pretty stagnant the whole trip. Sometimes a rushed vehicle would slide past, or whizz through the tangle of rail up ahead, but for the most part there was just dark tunnel, even in the busier tunnels.

///

Cole received his keycard back from the receptionist, and entered the elevator. It sank quietly, and as soon as the doors opened, Cole saw Alyx waiting for him in Resource Management.

Cole checked the time, to ensure he wasn't late, before joining Alyx, who wordlessly walked towards Mr. Jenkins' office.

The orange mesh of light was gone, and Cole understood why, the second the door opened. Mr. Jenkin's body was no longer sprawled on the carpet. Instead, a faint projection of his body hovered above the ground where he had laid.

Cole looked at Alyx, had she moved the body because she had seen how rattled he had been by it on the first day? Alyx's face was as blank as ever, and Cole had no idea if she had arrived early and removed the body to be kind, or if it was a practical decision.

"Look around, and see what you can find. Feel free to touch whatever you want, the scan has already been completed." Alyx finally spoke as the door shut behind them, and Cole wracked his mind to think about what scan Alyx was talking about. 

A scene from a crime thriller popped into his head, and Cole decided that the scan was like the one he had seen in the movie, it digitally recorded the crime scene exactly as it was when it was discovered, allowing it to be projected into the room whenever one wanted.

Cole took his first real look around the office, ignoring the place where he had first seen Mr. Jenkins' body; it was a lot easier with a projection rather than the decomposing flesh of a human. 

The office was similar to those of the other Resource Management employees, but it was slightly larger. In a corner was the standard desk, but in the center of the room lay a large rug surrounded by two comfortable looking sofas. There was also a row of filing cabinets stacked against the back wall, and a few papers were spilled across the floor. Paper was not really necessary in business, but Cole remembered the pamphlet he had been given on his first day, it seemed like the company had a flair for the retro.

The walls had the same peeling yellow and blue wallpaper. Cole to a second glance at the wall, he had thought there was something off with them, but they were just walls. Cole walked towards the desk. It was completely barren, besides a small cup that stood on a corner, filled with a couple of pens. It made sense that there was some sort of writing implement if one was using paper. 

Cole picked up one of the papers on the ground, it was a request form for some sort of machine part. It was partially filled out, and Cole wondered if Mr. Jenkins was killed while marking the page. It seemed like a part of Mr. Jenkins' job was filling out forms, Cole did not remember seeing paper in Ms. Hopkins' office.

Cole dropped the paper, and picked up another one. There were a series of numbers scrawled onto the page. Cole grabbed another and seeing it was another form moved to drop it, but a familiar name caught his eye, and he stopped himself. /Jam Hardy/

Cole quickly scanned the rest of the form, it seemed to be a promotion form that Mr. Jenkins had filled out for Jam. All that was missing was Jam's signature and he would have been promoted to a new department. 

/Redact that department name. Alyx is not allowed to know which departments work with each other./ Mirai's message caught Cole off guard, and he went to the desk and grabbed a pen before swiftly scribbling out the department name. /Core Production/. As he put the pen back into the cup, Cole stumbled slightly, causing his arm to brush into the wall. Cole sighed and tried to brush the dust off of his sleeve, surprisingly when he looked, his sleeve was completely clean. The other day when he had leaned against the dusty walls it had taken serious effort to get rid of the dust stain.

Cole walked over and handed the paper to Alyx, Mirai must have thought Alyx would want to see it. As Alyx scanned the form, he realized how unlucky Jam was, even though the form was completely filled out, it was void because Mr. Jenkins was dead, Jam would need Ms. Hopkins to fill it out if he actually wanted his promotion.

Alyx nodded to Cole, moving the paper away from her face as her left eye lit up with a blue glow, meaning she had likely scanned the page into her drive. Now they had something to ask Jam. Cole turned and went to the part of the room he had been avoiding. 

The projected body flickered slightly at his approach. There were no signs of a struggle around the body. There were no scratch marks on the floor by the legs of the sofas, meaning they had not been shoved in a hurry, there was nothing scattered across the floor near the carpet, and there was no murder weapon.

Cole looked around the office again, it was clean, the papers were the only exceptions. Cole looked at the projection. It was slumped over just as he remembered the corpse. A small pool of dried blood stained the carpet, which had a digital marking reading /J. Jenkins' blood only/. Cole took a deep breath and looked at the wound, where the dried blood had come from. 

It was in the back of Mr. Jenkins' head, a mangled mess that looked as if it had been repeatedly bashed by some heavy object. Cole grimaced and looked back at the bloodstain, it seemed too small in comparison to the horrifying wound. Cole tapped the projection and it shifted, straightening up to have the corpse standing before him. 

Cole took an involuntary step back, almost bumping into Alyx who was examining the projection as well. She was kneeling down, as her instance of the corpse was still in its death position. "The wound seems to hold a lot of malice." Alyx was not looking at him, so Cole did not interrupt her musings.

Instead, Cole checked the logs left by the machine that had examined the corpse. There were no traces of anyone else on the body. That coupled with the lack of signs of struggle, made Cole think that the killer had caught Mr. Jenkins unaware. The estimated time of death was between 5:40 am and 6:40 am.

Cole looked at Mr. Jenkins' face. The man looked almost peaceful in his death. 'Why were you killed?' The digital corpse did not respond.