A Game Of Catchup

The group walk slowly through the desolate streets of London, Violet only barely able to identify locations, the street signs had long since been destroyed. Ruined cars litter the streets, large cracks have opens in the road like fissures.

Motor function is difficult after all these years, assuming that Violet had only been discovered recently, time has been cruel to her chassis indeed.

What once was a pristine shell of titanium is now rusted and has been dirtied by centuries of rain and dust and dirt, it’s a small miracle that the joints are capable of movement at all.

Sensors appear clean, however the static that had been present during the start up phase was somewhat concerning, upon running a diagnostic routine it’s discovered that several functionalities are either nonfunctional or irrelevant. DNA Scanner and access to the UK’s criminal database being obvious examples.

It’s only when the group comes across a stretch of windows along the first floor of an old building that Violet is able to take in her current form.

Structurally speaking, many things remain the same, a mostly humanoid looking design with blocky armored sections along the chest, forearms and calves, across both the chest and back plates rests an LED display, clearly identifying Violet as police, and finally the face screen; during the designing of the VI series, it was quickly decided that creating a humanoid face would be too difficult, previous models had been uncanny, even creepy, and so they landed on the face screen.

A reinforced LED screen, not dissimilar to what you may find on a billboard, displaying an animated image of a young woman. It’s not a perfect system, it only serves to highlight the divide between Violet and the humans she’s meant to protect and serve, but its out of her hands, it is forbidden for an automaton to modify their body in any way.

“I have questions.” States Violet as the trio begins to navigate through a small field of ancient, ruined cars, Violet weaving through them while her companions set about walking over the hazard, stepping across hoods and car roofs.

“I have answers.” Responds the man she had spoken to earlier, the one who appeared to be the superior of the pair.

“How did you find me? And why activate me?”

“Well for starts, we didn’t find you, scavenger did, I suppose he figured you’d be worth more in one piece then scrapped for parts, what with you being a police robot, naturally he brought you to us, as for why we decided to turn you on… truth is… we’ve got us a matter we need assistance with…”

“See, us wastelanders, we can fight, we can lend a helping hand to the community but… investigations; analyzing a crime scene? Interviewing suspects… that’s something we struggle with… after 500 years training materials are long gone, degraded or sold off to who knows where… but you..? You have all that knowledge locked in your head… it’s what you were made for…” Charles says, hands stuffed in his pockets as they walk.

“There’s been a ****?” The words are phrased as a question but Violet needn’t use her vitals scanner to sense the stress radiating off the senior officer.

Charles gives a bitter chuckle. “More then you could count… but the ones we need solving are… critical…”

“The kind we can’t afford to cock up…” says Evelyn, following up Charles, not that he seems to pay it any mind.

“The Queens cousin was murdered in the streets last week… poor thing was shopping for tech components or some such when some lunatic blew her head off point blank with a shotgun… plenty of witnesses of course, we found him, tore a confession out and shipped the poor sod onto the queen.”

“The Queen..? You didn’t imprison him for ****?” Why send a guilty man to the queen? To judge the accused? To administer justice?

“Well, what with it being her cousin, it was decided that his fate was in her hands, truth be told, I don’t envy the blighter, the good Queen Eleanore isn’t renowned for her gentle temperament.” This is… concerning.

“Then… if the case is closed then why purchase me? Why reactivate and go through all this effort for me?”

“Well, between us, I don’t think this is over, this wasn't a crime of convenience he knew precisely where the woman would be, that she wouldn’t be guarded and the killer was a known mercenary, I’ve no doubt that he got paid for the deed…”

“For his sake, here’s hoping he got paid big.” Chimes Evelyn as she kicks an old bent can down the road.

“Assuming that there will be time before this conspiracy progresses, what would you have me do in between investigations?”

“Well we’ve already determined that your still functional, so you’ll be doing what the rest of us do, patrol the streets, lend a hand where you’re able, but if your looking for a place to start… there’s always The Delicatessen..” says Charles, triggering a noticeable grimace from Evelyn before she speaks up to explain.

“It’s an eatery not far from the station… it’s one of the cheapest places for nosh in the area but… well, let’s say there’s rumors surrounding the kitchens conditions, every time I’ve ever been it’s been a coin toss whether or not I get sick to me stomach.” This seems like rather significant problem, food-born illnesses can do substantially more harm then simply upsetting the stomach.

“And I gather there’s a reason there’s yet to be a health assessment?” Prods Violet, causing a small sigh from Charles, forcing Evelyn to answer once again.

“There’s more present dangers to the community than some contaminated food or what have you, the fog has been pushing further and further into the region, the larger settlements seem safe for now but…” she trails off, the implication clear, prompting several queries surrounding this fog, the streets of London are no stranger to mists and roaming fog.

“Fog…? Do you perhaps mean chemical pollution or poisonous gas…?”

“No, she means fog, that damnable fog… it does things to people… if you don’t come out of it mad then you come out mutated and if you don’t come out mutated… you don’t come out at all… we’re running down leads, but how the hell do you fight bloody fog..?” Charles speaks with a quiver in his voice, analysis indicates fear… and sorrow.

“Very well, I’ll see what can be done. Is there any other areas of concern?”

“There’s a few cold cases, murders with no answers, missing persons with no traces… we’ve managed to put together a terminal at the station, you’ll be able to find the case files there.” States Charles as the group changes trajectory, turning left at an intersection where a sky scraper has tipped, the only thing stopping it from toppling into the streets being another slightly shorter building, acting as a crutch.

“Do you have a criminal database? The one built into my CPU is filled with obsolete data, I could flush it and replace it with more current files.” Explains Violet, if she could just download current files she’d be able to identify anyone with a criminal record in the field in moments of scanning their faces.

“Well… we do but.. we only had so much space on the terminal and if it breaks that means we lose everything so… we figured it would be safest to keep physical files…” replies Evelyn, the group make their way beneath the precariously held tower of broken glass and rusted steel.

It’s unfortunate, and it will take more time to snap shot each individual file as opposed to downloading the totality but it is doable.

Up ahead stand makeshift walls, nearly 15ft in height made from sheets of corrugated metal bolted together with rusted rivets, wooden spikes driven into cracks in the road at an angle, barbed wire coiled across the space in between.

Standing on the wall are three men, each baring rifles presumably made by hand, each built from a series of pipes and connected to pressurized tanks strapped to their backs.

“Oi, Charlie, got yourself a pet bot?” One of them call out from atop the wall coaxing a chuckle from his compatriots.

“You’ve been standing up there all day, Tommy, waiting for us to show and that’s the best line you could come up with?” Asks Evelyn, choosing to engage with the ribbing where Charles refused to acknowledge it.

“Charming as ever Eve, alright in you go!” He says turning back to look back on his side of the wall. “Welcome to Lambeth..”

Slowly the heavy doors of the walls are pulled open, requiring the combined manpower of nearly a dozen men and women pulling them apart with large heavy ropes, the kind used for mooring ships.

Charles and Evelyn lead the way, the gates giving way to a bustling metropolis, at least when compared to the desolate ruins outside the walls, scores of people bustle about, merchants shout and hawk their wares, guards walk amidst the chaos carrying pressurized pipe weapons and even more citizens dash about, seeing to errands, to business and personal matters alike.

The trio begin to push their way through the crowds, most seeming to give Violet a wide berth where possible, not wanting to stray within arms reach of the automated constable.

Through the winding streets of the Lambeth they walk, much of the old buildings in this area appear to have been demolished and then recycled into the settlements new infrastructure, tents, and stilted shacks make up most of the architecture, a few areas are more ambitious, featuring multiple floors stacked precariously atop each other, windows carved into the sides of some buildings post construction, at it only seems to grow more elaborate the further into the Lambeth the trio walk.

Eventually they come out the other side of that first district onto the then stretch of land on the banks of the Thames and just across from it rests Westminster, home of Buckingham Palace.

A few buildings yet remain standing along the banks of the river, among them being a small police station, far from Scotland Yard but theoretically capable of fulfilling the needs of the Constabulary.

“Welcome to the Constabulary, this’ll be your home for the foreseeable future, feel free to get familiar with it, I’ll find you if I need something, if you have any questions speak with Evelyn here or one of your other colleagues.” Says Charles, his words friendly and inviting before he heads inside and presumably to his office.

Evelyn heads in to follow before she stops in her tracks, seemingly remembering something. “Oh, and don’t let the others get you down, bot or not you’re part of this now.” She says flashing a quick smile.

“That will not be a concern, I have not been programmed to suffer from discouragement or social isolation.” Violet states, perhaps seeking to put her concerns to rest however a peculiar look flashes on her face before she departs. Leaving Violet on her own to begin exploring the station.