Unsolvable Mysteries of Murder

“Well, you’re awfully late to leave today.” Steaming water poured out from the kettle. Beads of sweat formed around the exterior of the mug. “What happened to the boy?”

“I’m taking a break.” The creator dragged the tea over. It jostled across the table but thankfully didn’t spill. The heat, however, warmed his palms a little too much.

“A break?” Mrs. Morgan asked. “But haven’t you found him already?”

“Yes. He’s alright.” If he’s with her. “I’m sure.”

“Well, why don’t you bring him in?” She beamed. Her smile complemented the intense warmth of the tea. “I’ve got just enough space for another guest!”

“Of course…” He momentarily gazed into the void of his mind. The Taipan Riders… The thought was quite an annoyance. It never seemed to leave. “No.” He shook his head free of useless distractions.

“No?”

“No, I was just wondering about a few things.” Aurora Morgan… The name was engraved into that bracelet of hers. Wasn’t it important? It was her son’s gift, wasn’t it? Why hadn’t she talked about it since? “We should find that bracelet of yours first. I could buy you an exact replica with the same engravings. It wouldn’t be that difficult—”

“I’d rather not.” She waved the comment aside. “Don’t worry about that. I’m over it. And it won’t be the same one from my son anyway.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He took a sip. The liquid slid down his throat, almost burning a hole through his esophagus. He coughed up the rest. “Tea’s pretty hot,” he managed to get out. The heat lingered in his stomach.

“Oh, I’m sure.” She reached out to touch her son’s faceplate. Her hands drifted across the corroded surface for a while. “I may have brewed it too hot.” He could see her expression dull. As if a shadow had cast over her. But then she immediately broke out of it. “You should go,” she replied. “If you’ve already found him, you don’t need to be here.”

“That’s not important right now. I don’t—” Deserve him. Bread was safe. What more was necessary? It wasn’t like he was his actual dad. He didn’t deserve to take the boy’s freedom away again.

He was happy. Human enough. What would he even do if he got Bread back? Take him back? Lock him up again?

He wasn’t going to continue the experiment anyway. He didn’t want to; he was done. It didn’t matter if he was an algorithm, a simulated human, or even just a traditional globule of data made to mimic the characteristics of people… It didn’t matter anymore. He just wanted to take this moment to relax.

It was nice here.

There was less stress, less things to worry about. None of that business bullshit. None of his obsessions with research. A vacation. It was just a short holiday break before he had to go back and put up with Azan again. Just a short, uneventful rest.

“He’s important to you, isn’t he?”

“It doesn’t matter. Honestly.” The creator took a careful sip of his tea. “Your bracelet is more important than my own business.”

“Now, a stranger shouldn’t be your priority either, Gunther. Your business is your own and my business is mine.”

“You’re not a stranger.” He placed down his tea. “Not anymore.”

A smile broke through her gloom. “Stubborn as a mule I say.” She brought out a small safe made of metal. With delicate hands, she firmly planted the faceplate down inside. “My son was just like you.” Then she closed the lid and locked it with an old-fashioned key.

“You’re putting that away?”

“I think it’s time I move on. It’s been far too long.” Her face lifted, and her eyes lit up. “And there’s still more for these old eyes to see.”

“But you’re blind.”

“Oh, you know what I meant, dear.”

He quietly watched her take the container away. Into the depths of her closet full of worn-out clothes. Perhaps he could buy her some coats for her to use during the coming winter…

A screeching noise outside suddenly broke the momentary silence. Then a distorted, amplified voice screamed against the apartment walls. The building shook—trembled like a category three earthquake.

“Better prepare your funeral rites!” the voice shrieked out, almost reminiscent of an old school megaphone. “It’s high time you pay us back, Aurora Morgan!”

“Mrs. Morgan?” The creator stood up. “Who are they?”

“Oh no…” She turned around. Fright was written in her eyes. “I think they’re here for my payment.”

Payment? Was it the Taipan Riders? Again? He thought he’d told that teen to leave them alone. Why were they here?

“Oh, I was meaning to pay them back…”

The creator grabbed his jacket and tie. He downed the rest of his tea.

“Come out, come out!” the warped voice mocked again. “Or I’ll blow up the entire complex!”

“Mrs. Morgan, Stay here.” He headed for the door.

“What are you going to do, Gunther?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it under control.”

Her hands trembled with every word. “Are you sure about this?” She paced back and forth from the couch to the kitchen pantry.

“Of course,” he consoled. “There’s no need to be so distraught. Don’t you remember how it went last time?”

She stopped in her tracks. “But why are you doing this for me?”

His blank expression slowly curved upwards. “I’m just repaying my own debt.” He gripped the brass door handle with unwavering fortitude. “Because you’re not a stranger anymore.” Then he swung the door open and walked out in strides.

The first thing that greeted his eyes was the teen. The same teen from before. He was huddled next to a woman with a snake symbol imprinted on her biker vest. She looked to be the leader of the pack. Around her were a mass of grungy individuals all armed to the teeth. Most with knives. Some with homemade firearms of various sizes.

“It’s him!” the teen tattled. “That’s the old guy I was talking about!”

“So you’re the new bodyguard everyone’s been talkin’ about?” There was a brief pause in her movement. Like she had frozen in time for just a split second.

She had just scanned him. He could tell by the way her eyes twitched.

Her lips slowly stretched into a wide grin. “So what’s the creator of Simular doing out here in the boonies?”

“H-he’s the creator? Like The Creator?!”

“Shut your trap.” She smacked the teen in the head. “Don’t interrupt an adult conversation.”

The creator peered up at the sun floating motionlessly above his eyes. It was so bright. So blindingly bright. If only he could lower the intensity… He stared back at the supposed leader. She was still grinning from ear to ear, seemingly happy about her newfound revelation.

“Were you the one who scrapped her son?”

“Hah!” she cried. “Did she finally figure that out? What a stupid woman.”

So they were the ones who killed her son… He tried his best to ignore the insults. Mrs. Morgan was finally putting it past her. There was no need to reopen old wounds. Especially not when it wasn’t even going to bring the dead back.

“You know who I am,” he called out. “If this is about money, we can settle this peacefully.”

“Oh, gettin’ straight to the point, eh? Okay, I’ll tell you what.” She pointed at a tall building in the far distance—Simular Inc.’s main office. “Give me a share of your profits.”

“Really?” Was she asking to be an investor? What a waste of time. “Buy it yourself. You don’t need me for that.”

“No, no, no… I don’t think you get it. I’m not here to buy anything.” She raised the barrel of her pistol, and pointed it straight towards the sky. “This isn’t a request.” She pulled the trigger. A resounding pop echoed through the air.

Suddenly, there was a bloodcurdling roar followed by vibrations in the earth. It sounded like steps. Large, heavy steps… The ground trembled with each stomp. Nearby, car alarms went off. Trees were felled. And behind a street of oncoming traffic, he saw it—a monstrous, hulking figure running towards him at full speed, smashing everything in its sight.

“The Taipan Riders!” the woman started to yell, “will get paid today! And we will!” she screamed with overwhelming intensity, “without a doubt!”—she raised her fist in the air—“prevail!” Then she brought her hand down with a hard smack to the unwary teen’s back. “Now, get out there and fight!”

“Ow! What the hell, boss?!”