Do as you're told

Once your palms are up against the cold smooth-cut stone of a wall, the police hover car descends, spotlight still trained on you, the whine of its engines lowering in pitch as it nears the ground. A whoosh of what you assume a door opening and footsteps make you glance back.

"Face forward!" snaps one of the police officers, whom you only have a couple of seconds to appraise. Both are tall - over six feet, maybe even over six and a half - and wear tight fitting black uniforms that glisten almost like latex. Thicker black plates cover the back of their hands and lower arms, similar plates over each shoulder and also over their knees and lower legs. "POLICE" is prominently displayed across their more than ample chests.

"Stupid prick, what are you doing out after curfew? You looking to get ****?" the leading officer cusses.

She pulls something off her belt and leans up behind you, her breasts pressing against the back of your head and either side of your neck, again making you aware of her tall frame. One hand firmly gripping your left arm, she reaches forward and waves the device she holds over your right hand. It looks to be some kind of scanner, with a small screen display.

"Huh? No SID chip?" she says with obvious puzzlement, looking at the screen which shows 'SID: Undetected.'