kc_obrien | [30 Days of Fic - Day 28]

There is nothing more off-putting than ones first time experiencing a video feed. The feed from Professor Karl Strauss-Vasquez' class was not the first that I had tuned into over the course of my investigations, but it was different from others I had tapped into throughout my career. Strauss-Vasquez was one of the foremost authorities in Biological Computing and his lectures here at the Academy were broadcast to universities across the world. He was something of a superstar scientist and it showed in the way that the Academy presented him.

Instead of a single camera filming his lecture, they produced it as a live multi-camera broadcast. Since I'd tapped in, they used four different hovercams, one of which never left the students. The hum of the zero-wake propulsion system was likely scrubbed out in the broadcast system, but to me it buzzed like a hornets nest just behind my ears. Added to the constantly changing angles and I had to pop a suppressant tab just to keep the nausea down.

I tried again to duck in a back door system into one of the individual cameras, but the firewalls were locked down more tightly than some government computer systems I may or may not have investigated in the past. The main feed it was. I focused on the lecture, letting the professor's words anchor my mind. It seemed to help. According to his schedule, the course was on Ethics Questions in Bio-Computing. It was the kind of class that first year students had to take that wagged a finger at them not to do all the awful things that give the field a bad name and make old people hate new technology, all the while giving the most devious amongst them more ideas on the fastest way to recoup their tuition costs.

Considering the subject matter, a part of my mind took great pleasure in the fact that I was illegally spliced into a feed on bio-computing ethics.

Currently, he was wrapping up a lecture on the hot-button topic of enhancing children. The EU was in an uproar as two of the Germanic states had repealed the ban on underage enhancements unilaterally, giving them a huge edge when it came to having younger, brighter splicers in the Internal Services. But it wasn't polite (and was political suicide) to make claims that everyone knew were true, so the focus was on human rights and that the process killed the children involved, putting the onus on governments to protect kids from their parents (rather than, well, their governments).

The lecture itself seemed to be taking a risk versus reward tone, weighing the slight advantages offered in learning, neural development and overall intelligence versus the possibility of mental disorders, tech addiction and (eventually) neural regression that would destroy the bright candles the process longed to create before the enhanced were out of their twenties.

I could tell from the way Strauss-Vasquez had pitched his voice that the lecture was near its end. I dropped the feed and sagged into wall of the broom closet I'd tapped in from. It wasn't necessarily the most secure place to tap in from, but it was the only place close enough to the classroom that could be secured at all (and with the live broadcast, they locked down the room once the lecture began) so I made due, shimming the door shut for a touch of extra protection.

The hall was empty as I stepped out into it. The Academy had done a fantastic job of preserving the style of 'classical learning' throughout its halls, keeping even the barest hints of technology out of the structure itself. But it was there for those with eyes to see it. Pinpoint security cams and sniffers programmed for everything from chemical and biological agents to public drunkenness (a huge no-no in the actual halls of the Academy). I was glad to have a ball cap and HUD glasses to obscure my countenance (along with boots that added a couple inches to my height, the blonde tincture in my hair and a thick spray tan, I don't think my mother would recognize me).

The doors of the lecture hall slammed open and a throng of students boiled out, eager no doubt to be done with school just past four on a Thursday (The beauty of higher education). I stopped about ten feet from the door, letting the first rush of kids rush by me before braving the current to slip into the room. When I did, there was a small line of students lingering to discuss one thing or another with the professor.

And at the head of them was Cassidy Reynes.

My first thought was She's not a student followed quickly by, but the skirt works really well for her and it would look better on the floor in my apartment. She had her long, violently red hair back in a braided ponytail that would leave her perfect complexion and almost silver eyes trained on the professor. From the look in his eyes, I could tell that she was having the same effect on him that she often did on me. I just happened to have the benefit of only needing to remember her naked instead of imagining it. We had history.

And not all of it personal.

Cassie also happened to be one of the top detectives in the CCPD Neurocriminal Offense department. If she was here, then I was on the right track. It also meant that I was rather screwed if she turned around and saw me here, seeing as she was much better at recognizing me in such a state than my mother would ever be (and the fact that she had bought me both the cap and the glasses as a joke after the last time we butted heads on a case). It wasn't so much that I was doing something wrong, but it wouldn't do to let my personal feelings get tangled up with professional responsibility and earning my retainer. I'd have to think fast.

Unfortunately, all fast thoughts were focusing on her and not the task at hand. Fuck.

Failing fast thought, I leaned forward and enhanced my hearing by a couple of levels, trying to overhear the conversation.

"I would really like to meet with you off campus, Professor Strauss Vasquez," she murmured kittenishly.

"Oh please, call me Karl." He shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other, but he didn't look concerned at her identity so much as at the tone of her voice.

Which meant that she was working somewhat undercover.

"Karl," she said brightly, pushing herself up on her toes some, "this is my card. You should meet me tonight at Blue's, do you know the place?"

"Yes," he replied a little too quickly; I watched his right eye dilate slightly as he dipped into the network and tried to pull up the information before she noticed (which if I know her, she had). He was good, or at least his enhancements were because there was barely a pause, "On Chen Ming Parkway near the Commercial Redevelopment Zone?"

"That's the one. Like I said, my readers would love to hear your take on the debate," she stepped toward him and pressed a single fingertip against his chest, "And such a handsome take I'm sure it will be."

Great. My girlfriend was in the process of seducing my mark for information. Clearly she was tracking down leads on the Commissioner's death as well. But if she was going in like this, then I must have seriously underestimated Strauss-Vasquez' involvement.

The professor gulped and seemed to lose his train of thought. "Why, yes. I'd be happy to meet you there."

"How does eight sound?" She purred, sinking back down onto her heels.

Eight sounds great, I thought, slipping back out the door. It meant I had about four hours to figure out the link that I had missed that made the professor so important.

And to prepare to tail the single person who I would be hardest pressed to keep my identity secure from.

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Today's 30 Days of Fic task was to write a scene using the prompt: 'overhearing a conversation'

Click Here for a rundown of the tasks that are a part of the '30 Days of Fic' challenge and links to all the works I've created for it.