The Director

The car slid to a halt in front of the imposing tower that housed the Network’s Enforcer Division, its glass façade shimmering like a jewel against the pulsating neon skyline. The tower had different sections that housed a different department including the precint where CIX worked. The precint was run by the director with the help of the AIBI chips plugged into the Network’s system. The AIBI was a result of a long-coming technological advancement that, started as way to prevent people from committing murder but eventually it evolved to perform various daily functions. For the first time in years, the well run system looked to be failing.

The Director’s office was at the top of the structure—an imposing, almost suffocating space with walls of transparent, reinforced glass that overlooked the city. Accessible via a high-security elevator, only people allowed were the agents. The elevator had print-fitted security as well as eye sensors and of course AIBI configured recognizer. He stepped out of the elevator seeing a room of gleaming white surfaces interrupted only by a minimalist desk and single chair. The air was heavier, goosebumps rose on his skin as he crossed the threshold of the door, the sound of his boots muffled by the smart-flooring that absorbed sound.

The Director sat with her back to him, her posture rigid, her glowing blue eyes fixed on something only she could see—a stream of data on her neural display.

She turned slowly, her neural implant dimming as her gaze shifted to him. “Ah, Agent CIX,” she said, gesturing toward the lone chair opposite her desk. “Sit.”

The chair adjusted automatically to his frame, its nanotech fabric conforming to his body for optimal comfort.

“Show me the details of the Pinnacle case,” she Director commanded.

CIX nodded, his own neural interface activating. His eyes glowed faintly blue as he cast a holo-image into the space between them. The 3D rendering of the Pinnacle Complex materialized, rotating slowly. He zoomed in on the 48th floor, highlighting the crime scene.

“The victim was Wayne Musk, co-founder of N-Tech,” CIX began. “I arrived thirty minutes after the alert. No signs of tampering with the elevator or the scene itself. His brother, Bruce Musk, was standing over the body.” He expanded the projection, showing the man’s profile, complete with a vitals readout.

“Did you run a full check on him?” the Director asked sharply.

“Yes, his AIBI was fully operational.” CIX replied. “No abnormal behaviour during questioning.”

The Director’s piercing gaze lingered. “This is a high-priority case, CIX. It’s your first of this magnitude, and I want it handled flawlessly. I’m assigning another agent to assist you.”

CIX clenched his jaw. “With respect, Director, I can handle this alone.”

Her tone turned icy. “This is not up for discussion. Dismissed.”

Back at his workstation, CIX reviewed the case. Holo-images of the victim, the building, and the scrawled blood message hovered before him, spinning slowly. He transferred the data into his private workspace on the Network, encrypting it with his personal code.

Around him, the precinct buzzed with quiet efficiency. Agents moved with purpose, their neural displays glowing faintly as they coordinated tasks. One of them greeted him, but CIX barely noticed as he left. He drove home in silence, staring outside his car window, seeing the utopia he has known his entire life.

The Director’s words echoed in his mind as he entered his apartment. The moment he lay down, the bed reclined automatically, its smart fabric adjusting to his tense shoulders.

“Agent CIX,” DAX’s voice rang his head.

“DAX,” CIX groaned, rubbing his temples. “I told you not to wake me before 10.”

“Apologies,” DAX replied. “An urgent message has been sent to your inbox.”

Emergency Meeting. 0600 Hours. Attendance mandatory.

He bolted upright, his bed retracting into its base. Moving swiftly, he entered the bathroom, the mirror scanning his vitals and adjusting the lighting for optimal alertness. His closet slid open, presenting his freshly cleaned adaptive suit. Within minutes, he was out the door, to his car accelerating towards the precint.

The Director’s office was already filled when he entered. Agents stood in perfect formation, their faces expressionless against the stark white backdrop. He slipped into position silently, the Director’s gaze locked onto him.

“Late, Agent CIX” She said.

He straightened. “Apologies, Director.”

She started the announcement. “This morning, a second murder was reported. Identical circumstances. Victim: Dr. Elara Vance, a key scientist at N-Tech.”

A murmur rippled through the agents, quickly silenced by the Director’s sharp glare.

“We are no longer dealing with an anomaly,” she continued. “This is sabotage. Someone out there is killing people and we are going to catch them.