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ExiledTyrant -> Lil (9/6/2014 6:41:25 PM)
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A Rash of Murders
“Before you buy LiL, download the iWatch app today for free so you're LiL best friend can really get to know you!” The television blared excitedly, “The LiL app will help LiL'Imelda and LiL'Othello be your BFF, really and truly forever.” Detective John Macer starred blankly at the TV as the CSI dusted it for prints.
“i this, i that... what is the world coming to?” The CSI grumbled, “what do you think of this creepy iWatch thing for those dolls?”
“It is pretty cool, I bought one for my son. We downloaded the iWatch early on and when we got Othello it already knew everything Dave liked,” Macer said.
“So do they walk, talk, and play like the ad says?”
“Yep, and can learn a lot more,” Macer said.
“Seems a bit ridiculous to me... I mean, walking and talking toys...”
“When Davey broke his leg Tio was like a live in nurse, anything Davey needed, Tio fetched and carried for him,” Macer frowned. “You shouldn't knock them, they are quite amazing.”
“Tio?”
“Davey couldn't say Othello, it came out Tio,” Macer grinned.
“So, I bet that price tag was amazing too!” The CSI grinned.
“Not when you do the math,” Macer surveyed the room.
“How so?”
“If you figure the price of all the toys that become redundant, child care, and...”
“Child care! You leave your kid alone with that thing?”
“No, but Othello watches him 24/7 which frees up a lot of time for me and Jez... Jez doesn't have to hover, you know.”
“I don't know man...”
“We bought Othello when Davey was just learning to walk, they kind of learned together. You see, LiL's are mimics, what ever your kid is doing, into, learning, and so on, the LiL does the same. So when Davey was learning to walk, so was Othello... it's really best to get a LiL when your kid is very young,” Macer smiled.
“Do they really do that free upgrade thing?” The CSI asked.
“Othello has been “rehabilitated” five times since we bought him, for free,” Mosley said.
“Rehabilitated?”
“Four times to get upgraded, and once because he fell off the roof.”
“They didn't charge you for the repair on the accident?”
“No. When they downloaded his iWatch, they saw that he pushed Davey away from the window... I don't think Davey would've fallen out, but Tio saw it is danger, and... and... I guess when Tio pushed Davey away, Tio was off balance and went out the window. They don't charge you for repairs incurred by programmed behavior.”
“What?”
“Asimov shit, you know, law one and so on.”
“I see,” the CSI laughed. “So what's her story?” He pointed at the lifeless and still LiL'Imelda lying on the bathroom floor near the chalk outline.
“LiL law four, BFF's,” Macer shook his head. “I didn't think that was real, but we've seen it happen before.”
“So, when the kid dies, the doll dies?”
“Yep,” Macer looked at the doll. It had been sheltering the child with its body against the knife attack that killed them both.
“Don't you think its strange that these weird kid killings all have these dolls involved?” The CSI asked.
“About as weird as all the kid killings that have a dog, cat, stuffed animal, and so on. Connections are easy to make, hard to validate,” Macer said.
“I see. So what's this ones story?” The CSI asked.
“Dunno, he didn't leave a note, just gray matter splattered all over the bedroom wall.”
“You've worked a few of these though, right?”
“Yep... same weird shit, 'it wasn't my kid' is what they all rant on about. Junkies...” Macer shook his head.
“Junkies?” The CSI scowled, “How does a junkie afford a LiL?”
“Well, most likely the same way the next owner of that LiL will afford it,” Macer pointed at the lifeless doll. “She'll be 'rehabilitated' and go to a tree angel.”
Macer sat at his desk looking over the growing stack of murders, child murders all involving junkies, and oddly enough, LiL dolls. It was and wasn't an wasy connection to make with the LiL dolls, but all the kids had the fuzzy little Muppet that preceded the LiL doll as well. The first Automaton Artificial Intelligence Interactive Doll, AID dolls by Leaps in Learning, LiL corp. Davey was born when the LiL Imelda and Othello were well into the market and upgrade perfection smoothed out all the rough edges. Macer and Jez pinched pennies, while Davey was still in the womb, to save up for Tio. When Davey was born they bought an iWatch cam and prepared Tio for his life with Davey, on Davey's first birthday, Tio came home. A year of iWatch footage adjusted Tio perfectly to his new home.
“Macer,” a blue rapped on the corner of his desk.
“Yeah?”
“Some fella out front says he has information on the murders... LiL murders, he says,” the officer said.
“Nut job?” Macer asked.
“Bona fide,” the officer smirked. “every lead, blah... blah... blah, sorry Dick.”
“Heh, send him in,” Macer chuckled. The new guys loved calling the detectives dicks, perhaps a passive aggressive thing, but still worth a chuckle. Moments later the officer escorted a Rabbi back to his desk. Macer's brow shot up sharply and he sucked in a deep breath.
“Detective Macer, Emanuel Sinclair,” the rabbi extended his hand.
“Sinclair?” Macer asked, “Seems a solid rabbinical name.”
“It was changed during WWII, and as a reminder of our near extinction and the lengths we had to go to to protect ourselves, we never changed it back,” the Rabbi explained in monotone rote, clearly he does this often.
Macer cleared his throat, “How can I help you?”
“It is more akin to how I can help you... though you will think me a lunatic for what I have to say, the connection to these murders... sadly, has became apparent.” Sinclair said.
“How so?”
“Do you believe in the devil, Detective Mosley?”
“Rabbi, I am a homicide investigator, I do believe in the devil... all the things I see, day in and day out, I have no choice but to believe in the devil. It is God that I'm not sure about.”
Sinclair blanched, “That is dangerously close to blasphemy.”
“I would happily be smote... smite... smited... whatever, for some clue that God is here and keeping the devil in check, but this stack,” Macer slapped the pile of homicide files, “is today's tally on the devils work. Do you see God at work here? All I see is a whole lot of diligent diablery, this is the devils playground, and God isn't doing shit.”
“I am sorry I wasted your time,” Sinclair stood up and turned to the door. “A son of perdition can only aid the devil in his work, Detective Macer.”
“Hang on a second...” Macer sighed deeply, “tell me what you think is going on.”
“I am sorry Detective, but you will not-- cannot understand. You will think me a mad man and dismiss all I have to say, we would be wasting our time.”
“Are you sure about that?” Macer asked.
“Yes, very. I suspect you are a son of perdition, and that being the case you can only assist the Devil in realizing his son.”
“What?” Macer lost track of the relevance to the case with that.
“Detective Macer, your lack of faith in God will only assist the Devil in his effort to bring forth the Antichrist. You cannot understand nor see the entire picture because you are a man with no faith... again, I suspect a son of perdition.”
“Um... you're probably right... thank you for your time, Rabbi.”
Sinclair walked to the door and turned, “answer me one question, Detective?”
“Yeah?”
“Each murdered child had recently entered puberty, correct?”
“I...” Macer's eyes glazed over as the cases flashed before his eyes, “I'm not sure.”
“Detective, you will find that each victim had just entered puberty. Each suspect decries that the child was not, in fact, their child, and each child owned a LiL doll,” Sinclair stared hard at him. “When you find God, you will stop these killings.” Sinclair pushed open the door and walked through.
“So, nut job?” the escorting officer asked.
“Nope, the entire nut farm,” Macer rubbed his eyes and yawned. “I'm going home, I've had enough."
Macer sat bolt upright and looked at the clock, “2:18, oh for fuck's sake!” His head dropped back against the pillow and his wife laid her hand on his chest.
“You're supposed to leave all that at the office, Nero,” Jez said with a thick Arabic accent and kissed his cheek. She had called him Nero since the first moment they met.
“Sorry Jez, this one is weighing heavy on me,” Macer said.
“One or the many?” Jez asked.
“Well, the many, I guess.” He sighed.
“You will still get clear of this so we can go to Damascus? My parents are making a very big deal about Davey becoming Baaligh,” she asked.
“I hope so. I've done some research and it seems no one makes a big deal about becoming Baaligh,” Macer said.
“My father is ever searching for new ways to spend money,” Jez chuckled.
“He could always pile his money in a pyramid and pay people to base jump off of it,” Macer said. “If he paid people a hundred dollars each he could go through it pretty quick.”
“Pounds, we have Syrian Pounds in Damascus, and at a 1200 pounds per person it would still take many centuries... just saying,” Jez gigled. “Besides, people would suffocate before they reached the top of the pyramid.”
“Okay, your family wealth is still beyond my comprehension, just saying,” Macer chuckled and kissed her. “Do you think we did the right thing... I mean, living our lives and raising Davey on my salary?”
“Yes, he would've been an insufferable brat had we used my money,” Jez said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Every time we go to Damascus, in three short days he becomes an insufferable brat, just saying.”
“There is that,” Macer said.
“Now, go to sleep or bang me out, the choice is yours,” Jez grinned coyly.
“Um... I'm feeling awfully tired... but I cannot resist banging you out!”
“Oh, and when we get to Damascus, do not call me Jez or Jezebel, my parents strongly disapprove of that.”
“Shut up, slut,” Macer said and kissed her.
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