Notes

RING RING. RING RING.
“Good morning, Mr. Ortega. Today’s weather has scattered showers in the forecast, followed by thunderstorms at noon. Taking an umbrella with you is highly recommended if you were to go out. Shall I prepare your morning coffee?”

A solemn voice spoke out into the apartment, its soothe voice echoing throughout the bedroom and kitchen. It seemed entirely human, but in fact, it was just a piece of artificial intelligence that had projected itself into the bedroom, standing before the bedside. The noise of shuffling of the bedsheets would persist for a few seconds before a low “mhmmm” came from under them.

“Perfect. Will it be decaf, or something different? How much sugar? A specific mug, perhaps?”

A groan would come from under the sheets, the person beneat them finally tossing them off their body as they wiped their eyes in a circular motion before speaking clearly.

“Decaf. Two sugars. Black mug with the constellations on it.” The male would look at the projection with a unamused expression as he stretched his body, causing his back to crack lightly, much to his relief, which he evidenced with a low moan.

“I’ll get right to it.” The projection dissapeared, only for it to re-appear already inside the kitchen to prepare the coffee.

The blinds to the apartment rolled open automatically, the mechanical parts that held it together squeaking as it did. Once fully rolled open, the image of a beautiful moonlight, with the moon shining ever so brightly would be revealed.

Ortega rolled himself off the bed, finally landing his two feet on the ground. As he made his way to the bathroom to freshen up, the pitter patter of his feet would sound throughout the way, the tiles of the floor being shiny and clean, glistening with the very few lights that had been turned on.

Once inside the bathroom, Ortega looked at himself in the mirror, examining his body and noticing some damage on his right arm. “Son of a bitch, I just got this fixed last week and the paint is already starting to wear off? For fu—“ He would be interrupted as his eye started glowing for a moment, receiving a call from someone. He answered it seamlessly.

“Yo.”

“Yo? That’s how you’re going to greet me?” A woman’s voice ringed through his ears. She seemed upset. “Tu estás del cara—“ Before she could finish, she was interrupted.

“I’m sorry. Good morning, princesa bella y preciosa. Como estás hoy, mi reina?” Ortega said with a mocking tone as he kept examining his right arm for more damage, rubbing off some of the human flesh-like color he had applied to it, revealing a black cybernetic arm underneath.

“Gross, you didn’t have to sound so idiotic either. Are we still up for tonight?” She seemed amused now, letting Ortega off with his fake compliment.

“Of course babe, how could I forget about that? Mira, I just woke up and my arm’s already defective. The paint’s coming off and I’m pissed.”

“Didn’t you get it painted the other day? I thought the guy said that paint was good for at least 10 years?”

“Yeah, more like 10 hours. I don’t know if I should go and talk to him, or kick his ass for having me fork over $400 for some cheap paint job.”

“I think it’s best if you just tell him the paint is coming off and you want your $400 back. Kicking his ass will only land you in trouble. Besides, the black color of the arm looked sexy on you.”

“You think?” Ortega couldn’t help but smile and flex his cybernetic arm, admiring the cybernetics for what felt like the first time all over again. He had lost his real arm in a car accident a few years back. A drunk driver crashed Ortega’s vehicle, having him swerve off the road, tumble and land in a ditch. The driver was never convicted, and Ortega was thought to sustained further injuries, but it only ammounted to his arm.

“Tu sabes que si. Mira, I gotta go. Work calls. I’ll call you back later to make sure you’re ready. Love you!” The female blew a kiss through the call.

“Love you too, be safe.” The call ended, and Ortega continued his bathroom routine. When he was done, he stepped out of the bathroom, his cybernetic arm completely stripped of the flesh-like paint.

The projection appeared before Ortega, smiling at him. Its shape was that of a female, her clothes weren’t traditional, but instead a type of glowing, blue skin tight bodysuit. Her purple-ish hair bobbed to the side as she stood there. “The coffee is ready, Mr. Ortega. Should I read you the daily news?”

Ortega hummed for a second as he took the mug from the kitchen counter and took a sip from it. “Uh, sure…Bad news first, good news second.” With his coffee in hand, he stepped forwards to the window that reflected the moonlight. As he pressed his hand to the glass, the beautiful scenery vanished and was replaced with the true image that hid behind it. A busy city with aerial vehicles speeding to different directions, neon lights shining in every corner. The rain started picking up, the droplets hitting the glass window.

“Yamaguchi City Police reported a murder this morning, the victim was a 31 year old man by the name of…” The voice started becoming muffled as Ortega was lost in thought as he gazed at the city. His city.

“Hey, Rei, stop the news for a moment.”

The projection would stop as instructed, tilting its head to the side.

“Any update on the bastard?” Ortega said as he took another sip of his coffee, his eyes gazing over the city skyline, like a hawk. It was his instinct to look for any unsual activity in the city’s cars, especially after the accident he was once in.

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Ortega. The license plate that belonged to the car that caused your accident is still active, and has no tickets to it. The owner is still the same, and he has not faced any jail time.” The projection spoke calmly. “Should I continue with the news?”

Rolling his eyes in anger, he let out a hard sigh and muttered out an “mhmm” as he drank more of his coffee. He had turned away from the window and was now walking to his room, looking for what clothes to wear as he was still in his underwear.

“As I was saying before, the 31 year old man was named Shinji Haganori. He was the sole owner of Haganori Hotels. There are a total of 5 different Haganori Hotels located within Yamaguchi City, all have been compliant with the police investigation and there are no signs of foul play in the case.”

Ortega placed his mug on the nightstand as he opened the closet door with his left hand and eyed a pair of pants. He took his black pants from a coat hangar and carefully looked it over, making sure there were no stains on it. “Next story, Rei.”

“There was a report of a burglary in the local Trust-Us Bank in the Hinori district. No injured, the criminals were arrested and processed within an hour.”

As he pulled the zipper on his pants, Ortega pondered on what shirt to pick from his wardrobe. “Rei, what color do you think is best for today? Red, black, or grey?”

“I would suggest changing the black pants for a regular pair of jeans, and the shirt being grey, Mr. Ortega. Also, a jacket for the rain, or an umbrella, or both.”

Ortega groaned. “Esta mujer…” Obviously, Rei was no woman, but this didn’t stop Ortega from labeling her as one. She was as real as any other woman to him. Unzipping his pants, he kept on changing. “So, next?” He asked her.

“That is the end of the “bad news”. The sole "good news” I have to offer today is that an amount of $5,000 was added to your bank account. Congratulations!” She said with an almost happy tune, but her artificial programming prevented her to show that much emotion.

“What?! Five thousand dollars?! My paycheck isn’t supposed to come in until next week, and even then it doesn’t even come close to 5K. Who deposited that amount, and when?” He was surprised to hear this, but more than that, he was afraid. A deposit of five thousand dollars could end up meaning trouble for him, if it comes from the wrong hands. Or, if everything is clear, it’s just an error from the bank that would be corrected in a few hours.

“There is no name to the money, Mr. Ortega. There is but an address, and a phone number.”

“A phone number…? Fuck. I didn’t need this shit, not now… Fine, give them a call. If it’s a mistake, I’ll have it fixed, if not, I’m not taking any deals from no one.” Ortega reached to his nightstand and took his deodorant, turning the knob and swiping it on his armpits. The countless thoughts on who and where this money came from started to race through his mind. He was never involved in any gangs, or drug money, but was constantly bribed for services. As an off-duty police officer, it was normal to receive such offers from different parts of the ‘underworld’, especially those with power.

Rei stood silent for a moment, almost lifeless. Ortega’ heart pounded as he anxiously waited for the call to be passed to him. Trying to keep a leveled head, he slid his shirt on and walked towards his dresser, where he kept his socks in. Opening it, he picked the first pair of socks he found and took them.

“I apologize, Mr. Ortega. The call keeps ringing but there’s no answer. Shall I try again?” Rei said politely.

“Sea la madre. Of course they wouldn’t pick up. No, no. Urgh!” Ortega slammed his foot on the ground after putting one sock on. “I’ll have to go to that shady ass address and hope I don’t get gunned down by some hijuela. I should tell the chief just in case…Rei, pass me to Chief Irons.”

Rei nodded. “Calling police chief Jefferson Irons.” The call was picked up almost immediately.

A loud, yet friendly voice shouted. “Ortega! What’s going on? I thought today was your off-day?” There seemed to be a lot of comossion in the background.

“Morning, chief. Listen, I received a deposit of exactly five thousand dollars to my bank account. There was no name or date provided, just an address and a phone number. I contacted the number, but there was no response. I’m proceding to the address. Are there any officers in the field that I can count on if things go sour for me?

“Five thousand dollars? Sounds like dirty money to me, Ortega. Give me a second, I’ll check with those in the field.” The call was suddenly put on hold. Ortega had tied the laces to his boots and was picking out his black leather jacket from the coat hanger. He slid it on both arms and zipped it up. Picking his mug from the nightstand, he took one last sip from the coffee, which had turned cold by now.

“Right, so I have four different officers out right now, two which are close to you usually work in. I’ve told them your name and rank, and instructed them that if you call, and it’s an emergency, they are to immediately go to you, weapons loaded and everything. Their names are Katarina and Fredrick. Neither are rookies and are trained in firearms. Anything else you might need?”

“No, Chief. That would be all. Everything good in the office?”

“Hah! Just the usual. Tons of paperwork and tons of sons of bitches coming in to get their asses tossed into cells. Be careful out there, son. If you see anything, ANYTHING shady, call immediately.”

“I will, Chief. Thank you.” Ortega hung up and turned to Rei. “Send the address over to the car, I’m heading there now.”

Rei nodded and blinked twice, her blue eyes shining. “It is done, sir. Be careful.”

“Hey, if anything happens, you get the house to yourself!” Ortega joked as he made his way to the door. “Rei, keep the place locked, all windows shut, and change the apartment’s exterior to a different look. If anything, or anyone tries to find me, we’ll need to throw them off.”

“I will, sir.”

Ortega opened the door and exited out of his apartment. The door was immediately closed and locked, and a wave of colors started emitting over the door frame before it was changed to look completely different. The number was changed, the door’s color was different, and even the wall looked old and tattered. This was all a sort of ‘optical illusion’, carefully prepared by Ortega with years in advance. Being a police officer is no easy task, and there comes a time where drastic measures need to be taken. Disguising your living quarters is one, and police officers spare no expense for this. The projectors that changes these appperances are carefully hidden, strategically placed where the common criminal will never look.

Walking down the hall of the apartment complex, Ortega could remember what it felt like when he first rented his place. It was back when he was but a rookie cop, first day on the job and everything. A “prepa”, as he would call it. He needed to move to someplace closer to the police headquarters, and a fellow officer had suggested him this location, “The Raven’s Den”. It was an older place, but had been renovated recently, and was under new management. The whole place was run by AI, artificial intelligence, who behaved just like any other human being. Good memories, but he needed to stay focused.

A few minutes passed, and Ortega was finally outside. He walked a short distance to his garage, which was located inside the apartment complex, and unlocked the door. His modified Gen-2 DeLorean was already idling, waiting for its owner. It was his pride and joy, a beautiful car, even if it was considered ‘old’ by many. Ortega opened the gullwing revolving door, a sight that always made him smile, and sat down in the drivers seat, accessing his own personal computer which already had the address that was listed on the five thousand dollar deposit, marked. Once he was out of the apartment complex, he revved the engine of his vehicle and started hitting the 100mph speeds, keeping a close eye on the roads for any incoming vehicles. The roads were relatively calm, to his surprise.

<TO BE CONTINUED>