Halfkinds Volume 1: Contact

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 – The Detective - Contact

Chapter 2 – Leonard Lawton -
Homecoming

Chapter 3 – Simon Trevor - Debrief

Chapter 4 – Iris Lawton - Outcasts

Chapter 5 – Fenrir Snow - Allies

Chapter 6 – Tiago Lawton - Weakling

Chapter 7 – Simon Trevor - Sundown

Chapter 8 – Fenrir Snow - Hunters

Chapter 9 – Lombardi Lawton - Prey

Chapter 10 – Oscar Lawton - Leaders

Chapter 11 – Iris Lawton - Origin

Chapter 12 – Apollo Bradley -
Partners

Chapter 13 – Tiago Lawton - Sacrifice

Chapter 14 – Curtis Lawton - Monsters

Chapter 15 – Simon Trevor - Risks

Chapter 16 – Oscar Lawton - Runners

Chapter 17 – Simon Trevor - Assault

Chapter 18 – Oscar Lawton - Ambush

Chapter 19 – Curtis Lawton - Deserter

Chapter 20 – Apollo Bradley - Spared

Chapter 21 – Iris Lawton - Refuge

Chapter 22 – Fenrir Snow - Conflicted

Chapter 23 – Curtis Lawton - Lair

Chapter 24 – Fenrir Snow - Killzone

Chapter 25 – Tiago Lawton - Abandoned

Chapter 26 – Apollo Bradley -
Hindsight

Chapter 27 – Fenrir Snow - Recovery

Chapter 28 – Iris Lawton - Memories

Chapter 29 – Simon Trevor - Storm

Chapter 30 – Tiago Lawton - Meltdown

Chapter 31 – Apollo Bradley - Fable

Chapter 32 – Fenrir Snow - Sunrise

Chapter 33 – Iris Lawton - Countdown

Chapter 34 – The Superior -
Postscript

November 15, 3040
5:31 AM

I got the tip to investigate a
homicide in a small town called Primm, about forty miles outside of Las Vegas.  I normally don’t take calls so far away, but seeing that it was 5:00 in the
morning and there weren’t any responders, I figured why not.

I had just started my day and woke
up at around half past three to take my shower.  The water was cold that
morning; damn heater must have been broken again.  I guess I get what I pay for
in this apartment.

I popped some toast and eggs in an
insta-cooker, and a second later it was all done.  I couldn’t cook that well
and, with no lady around, that box was my only personal chef.  All I had to do
was pop in a little pea size pod, and a few seconds later, I had a full meal. 
Sure it didn’t have the human touch I enjoyed, but it still tasted pretty
good.  Amazing what technology can do these days.

I got my badge and gear, and
hopped into my hovercar towards the police station in Sloan.  The morning air
was crisp and fresh.  It looked like it was going to be a relatively hot day in
November.  I turned on my car’s AI and asked what the weather was going to be.

“Eighty five degrees.  There will
be light showers at 4:42 PM, but skies will clear up by 8:15 PM.  Is that all
you require, detective?”

“One more thing, when will the sun
rise?”

“From your position, it will rise
at 5:45 AM.  It will be to your left.  Is that all?”

“Yes, computer, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, have a nice day.”

A fifteen minute, quiet hovercar
ride had passed and I was at the station.  As I exited my vehicle, the
dispatcher buzzed in about the tip, just before five.  The tipper said he heard
gunshots around 4:00 in the morning and a woman’s scream, so I quickly chimed
in to the dispatcher and said I was available to investigate.

“It looks like today is going to
have some action after all, what a time to be alive in the thirty first
century,” I said to myself, and I was on my way.  It is where I am now, in my
car, en route to the crime scene.

A quiet fear overtakes me.  It’s
the same fear I always feel before an investigation like this.  Robberies,
vandals, I can deal with, but homicides are different.  The sight of a dead
body always irks me, the possibility that the killer hasn’t left is even more
troublesome.

It’ll take about twenty minutes to
get to Primm, and my thoughts are the only things that keep me company. 
Sometimes I wish I had a partner, but with the budget so small and the robots
taking care of parking and speeding tickets, I guess I should be happy that I
have a job in the first place.  Not many can say they’ve had a long career in
law enforcement, but being a detective sure helps.  There’s only so much that
artificial intelligence can cover without a human mind.

It also doesn’t hurt that I’m a
cop in one of the most crime ridden areas in the United States.  They say you
can get anything in Las Vegas.  Want to blow your life savings on a game of
craps?  Go ahead.  Need a fix?  Just go to any shady corner and you got it. 
And you can be sure there’s something that will satisfy you no matter what
you’re into.

It’s not the gambling, drugs, and
sex that cause the chaos, it’s the crowds.  Things get rowdy fast.  That’s what
happens when you have all these species mixing in with each other.  We already
live in a world where the wolves hate the dogs, the gorillas are at war with
the lions and everyone pretty much hates humans.  God, I wonder what it was
like to live back in the old days, when people were the only ones who could
think for themselves.

These animals got too smart too
fast, and all of a sudden they’re all fighting for their share on this planet. 
Worst part is that we humans allowed it to happen.

I think about this kind of stuff
when I’m on my way to these cases.  I think about how crazy a world I live in. 
I guess we humans got carried away with our dreams and ambitions.

But I am getting distracted.  I
can’t be thinking about this right now, not before walking into a crime scene. 
I have to remain focused.

Primm is usually known for being a
hooker town.  Since Las Vegas is strictly a no prostitution zone, all the
neighboring towns have cashed in.  Boulder City, Goodsprings, Mead, Moapa, all
those places are a haven for selling sex.  Thank God Sloan hasn’t turned out
that way, because I have seen some weird shit over the years.

Species stick to their own
species.  Human hookers have human clients, dog hookers have dog clients,
that’s the way it is because it’s against the law to have interspecies
relations.  The worldwide government banned it a long time ago, right when the
other animals started to become equals with humans.  We don’t want it, and
neither do they.  But here in the Vegas area, laws are always broken and once
in a while I’m forced to put some sick dog or human or whatever to justice.

It’s hard because a lot of the
pimps are in control in these areas, but even interspecies clients are
something that most pimps want nothing to do with.  It’s the taboo of all
taboos, and when they are found they get cracked down on hard.

Sometimes I think it’s strange how
all of this came about when other species started to get smarter.  You would
think that intelligence would bring a level of sensibility and morality within
creatures, help them see what is right and what is wrong.  But quite the
opposite happens.  Smart or not, every being has its own desires.  Intelligence
allows those desires to be realized.

Primm is particularly notorious
for this kind of stuff, maybe because it’s so far south, away from the grasp of
civilization.  A lot of murders and busts happen down in Primm and, with their
lack of law enforcement, guys like me usually get called there to check things
out.  They don’t have enough resources to handle this dangerous place.  That’s
why I have that feeling of fear every time I have to check out a homicide,
especially in Primm.

“Computer, what’s the ETA of my
destination?”

“Ten minutes.  You will travel on Troup Road for approximately three minutes and then make a right on Chakming Drive. 
Continue on for seven more minutes and you will arrive at 1523 Chakming Drive. 
Do you need anything else?”

“No, that is all.  Thank you.”

I look out my window and see the
poverty filled streets of Primm.  There’s litter everywhere, and several
homeless species.  Dogs, humans, even a bear, all with “help me” signs and
tattered clothing.  The bear looked particularly out of place; they normally
don’t like the heat of Vegas.  But I guess when you’re homeless, you’re
homeless.

I make a right on Chakming Drive, and I notice the street is completely empty.  There are no businesses, no
stores, just a few vacant homes spaced out by unkempt lawns and broken down
hovercars.  This homicide victim must be the last resident here.  It seems like
the rest of this area has been abandoned for years.

I arrive at the address, 1523 Chakming Drive.  I must have driven down the road for about a mile before reaching this
empty house at the end of the street.  It was the only house left at that
point, and when I arrive I can see why.  It’s old, run down, and shabby looking
to say the least.  It stands at one story high with no fence.  Weeds are
growing onto the street.  There are rusted hovercars in the driveway.  Whoever
lived here didn’t travel much judging by the condition of the vehicles.

I park my car and take my gun out
of the holster.  I charged it overnight, so it is at one hundred percent
energy.  I open the side door and get out, slowly looking around to make sure
there is no one else in the area.  The killer could very well have returned to
the scene of the crime, so my gun is switched to fire mode.

I make my way through the yard,
and right away I notice the front door is open.  The dispatcher was right about
the freshness of the crime because the killer made no attempt to cover it up. 
He must have been in a hurry.

I make my way up the porch, and
squeaking noises radiate out of it with every step I take.  I’m now in the
house, gun held with both arms as I use my head to peer through the hallways,
and it’s pretty empty.  I see only a few signs of life scattered about:  a
dining table in one of the rooms I had walked past, faint shoeprints on the
hardwood floor that I was walking on.  There are some lamps dispersed here and
there, and several closed doors.

I also smell a foul stench.  It
smells like rotten fish mixed with eggs.  It’s horrible, and it only gets
stronger as I approach the kitchen.  The floor continues to creak with every
step I take.  And then I arrive at the kitchen and see the source of the odor.

On the ground, there is a body, a woman
whose skin is pale and limbs are stiff.  She has an almond face, though it is a
bit bloated, and long brown hair that reaches down to her back.  She is curvy,
big bosoms and thighs, but also short.  She seems to be just over five feet. 
She was probably quite the looker when she was alive.

I cover my nose as the stench is
at its strongest.  This woman must have been dead for at least a week, judging
by the stink she is emitting.  There was no way the crime could’ve happened
this morning.

I step closer to examine her body
and I see no gunshot wounds, no seared flesh from energy pistols, not even any
blunt trauma.  It appears that the woman had died from natural causes.  She
looks too young for that, though.  Judging from her appearance, she was
probably only seventy or eighty years old.  Natural death usually occurs when
someone is over one hundred fifty.

All this speculation is useless
though, the only way I can get the real story is if I do a scan, so I take out
my bio scanner from my pocket and stand above her.  I turn the handheld device
on and two laser emitters shine onto her body and travel up and down several
hundred times in a matter of seconds.  The first examination is complete, so I
do the next one.  I cover my mouth and take a latex glove from my pocket.  I
then open her right eye a bit and place the scanner on top of it.  I flash the
lasers over her retina.  The second phase is complete, so it is now on to the
third.