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“Chris? Oh God, Chris. Is . . . is it really you?”
Qadi watched closely as the mother’s eyes filled with genuine tears. No, she had nothing do with Christoph Cooper’s disappearance fifteen years ago beyond what she’d already disclosed to the authorities.
“Yeah, Ma, it’s me,” Qadi said in Christoph’s husky, adult male voice.
The sister’s face twisted, the emotions too complicated to fully decipher, and she stomped out of the precinct office without saying a word. Qadi glanced out the window—the sister was pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, running her hands through her hair, clearly distressed. Well, wasn’t that interesting. It seemed Claudia Cooper would bear close watching.
Technology advanced, and criminal investigations followed suit. Fifteen years ago, it wouldn’t have been possible to copy a person so faithfully. Now, it had become regular practice for undercover investigations, and ageing a missing person in a convincing fashion was just par for the course for the manufacturers who produced the chasses for the precinct’s law enforcement AIs.
But, thing was, it wasn’t about who Qadi’s Christoph chassis managed to convince. For the purposes of this particular investigation, it was about who it didn’t.
Qadi found Claudia sitting on a grassy knoll overlooking the River Thenn. The entire north-south length of the river and the floodplains surrounding it had been designated a national park earlier this year, and the mother had told Qadi that the sister enjoyed the return to nature.
“It really is a beautiful place,” Qadi said.
“You don’t remember.” It wasn’t a question. Claudia’s expression was bitter.
“What am I supposed to remember? That we used to live here?”
Claudia offered no reply. Instead, she stood up, brushed off the bits of grass from her skirt, and left Qadi alone on the knoll.
The Coopers used to have a house alongside the river. They moved out after Christoph disappeared.
It was just as well that they’d moved. Had they waited, the government would’ve claimed eminent domain, and they would’ve been forced to move out anyway. The house was gone now; the property it had once stood upon was a part of the riverbed.
He’d been twelve years old when last anyone had seen him. Claudia had been six. She was twenty-one now, and Qadi looked like Christoph at twenty-seven.
“Oh, were you two out swimming?” the mother asked when she noticed Claudia come into the kitchen, Qadi following closely behind. “Right time of year for it, eh? God, you kids used to love the river—I used to worry so much. I’m glad I don’t have to worry anymore.” She pulled Qadi in for a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad I don’t have to worry about anything anymore.”
It was the job. Even so, sometimes the job made Qadi feel awfully bad.
Qadi continued following Claudia to and from the river. Claudia didn’t seem any more convinced that Qadi was her big brother miraculously returned to her, but at least she didn’t object to Qadi’s presence.
“I wish it were deeper,” Claudia said. “Remember how it used to be deeper? You remember that, don’t you, Chris?”
They’d used to dredge the river in the old days. Qadi remembered that from the background reading for this case. Dredging didn’t make the lands around the river less prone to flooding—in spite of what was popularly believed—but it did make the floods when they occurred exponentially more dangerous.
They used to occur quite regularly, the floods. Almost every year, in fact. It was why no one lived so close to the river anymore—less risk of disaster and death.
“Deep waters flow faster. The river is better for swimming now, Sis. Safer,” Qadi added almost as an afterthought.
Claudia looked at Qadi, fists clenched in bare-knuckled fury, and hissed, “You’re not my brother. You can’t be.”
Human chassis notwithstanding, Qadi was a purpose-built law enforcement AI, and after three months impersonating Christoph Cooper, Qadi had developed a preliminary theory of the case.
I do not suspect foul play, Qadi’s message to the investigative lead at the precinct office read, but I do believe that Claudia Cooper possesses facts relevant to the case which she did not disclose. Obviously we won’t bring charges if my theory is correct. I plan to confront—
The sound of a slamming door interrupted Qadi’s composition mid-sentence. A glance out the window revealed Claudia, not pacing back and forth as was her frequent habit but rather walking determinedly towards the river with a large bag of something mysterious slung over her shoulder.
Since it was nearly nightfall and this was uncharacteristic behavior for Claudia, Qadi decided to follow quietly, at a safe distance.
It wasn’t clear what Claudia planned to do until she arrived at the river’s edge and secured the large bag around her neck.
“You don’t have to drown yourself. Your brother wouldn’t want that,” Qadi called out.
They’d been out swimming when a flash flood had swept through. Christoph had been carried off; he had most likely drowned.
“I was the one who wanted to go swimming that night. We didn’t tell anyone; we just went. After Chris . . . he . . . I blamed myself. I thought it was my fault,” Claudia whispered. She was crying.
Qadi reached out and hugged her gently. It was Christoph’s body, but Claudia didn’t seem to mind. She sobbed harder; Qadi knew the tears were the start of the healing process. “Deep waters flow faster,” Qadi said. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Another case solved.