Beautiful Teeth
Market Street was especially crunchy this evening. Partiers had turned out in droves for the holiday, shouting, laughing, jostling. Music blared. A loud crackle burst out. Through the haze, the sulfur tang of celebratory sparklers wafted down the street, mixing with the sticky, sweet smell of drinks, sweat, and garbage.
Red and Floofie hunched over a cramped public terminal just off the flow of traffic. Floofie glanced around, nervous. “Why exactly are we here instead of the office?”
Red made a face. But she hitched on a smile as she turned and looked up at the big android. “Let’s go over this again. What’s our goal?”
“Investigate the GMA Corporation hack.”
Red nodded. Floofie didn’t know the specifics—he was new, and Red didn’t want to overwhelm him—but three weeks earlier, someone had gotten into GMA’s servers and stolen proprietary genetics tech named SHARPR. It would be worth millions on the biohacking black market.
“Who’s our top suspect?”
“W01ff.”
“Right.” Infamous, meticulous, untraceable. W01ff was a dark web legend. This job had his paw prints all over it. “What’s our strategy?”
Floofie’s face brightened. “Find him. Get him talking. Wait for him to slip up.”
“Exactly. So: Why pick a public terminal?”
Floofie stared for a moment and then just shook his head, still mystified.
Red sighed. “Private investigation basics. Anonymity. A public terminal’s harder to trace.”
“Oh, right.” Floofie nodded. Red had the forcible impression of looking up at a big, dopey golden retriever. Loyal, eager to please, and irredeemably stupid.
It was hard to find good help these days.
She took a gulp of her energy drink and turned back to the terminal. She typed in a few commands.
A flurry of text flowed across the readout. The last line came up. Bingo.
Floofie noticed her pause. “What’s wrong?”
Red jerked her chin, indicating the terminal. Floofie leaned forward to look.
I hear you're trying to find me.
Floofie turned to Red, eyebrows raised.
“He’s got good ears,” Red shrugged. She drummed her fingers on the keys. “Okay, let’s play.”
Who are you?
The direct approach? I expected better of you . . . Red.
Red felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. “Sharp eyes, too,” she murmured under her breath. She glanced at Floofie and saw in his simple gaze that, for once, he understood the implications.
“I thought you said this terminal was anonymous,” he whispered.
“It is,” Red said, grim. “He’s got to be watching — Don’t look, though.” She grabbed his big arm to stop him from turning around. “If he’s bold enough to pull something like this, he feels safe. He’ll be so well-disguised he could be standing next to us and we’d never know.”
“What do we do?” Floofie looked worried.
“Stick to the plan. Keep him talking. Wait for him to slip up.” Red took another swig of energy drink, thinking. Then she began typing again.
What do you want?
Human connection?
Red snorted. Was W01ff trying to flirt?
Okay. Let's connect. Tell me about GMA.
You tell me something first. What do you think of your partner there?
Red glanced at Floofie, a quiet alarm going off in the back of her mind. In point of fact, the android seemed as dumb as a rock. But admitting that felt both unwise and unkind.
Why is that relevant?
Call it a test. How do you judge those under you?
Dead end. This taunting wasn’t productive . . . But Red had an idea.
“Change of plans,” she decided, raising a hand to clear the terminal session.
“Wait,” Floofie objected. “We’ve got W01ff. Don’t we want to keep him talking?”
Red shook her head. “We’re on his turf now. He set this up, and I don’t trust it.”
“But what if we don’t get another chance? How will we figure out how he stole SHARPR?”
Red smiled tightly. She slipped her hand into her jacket and pulled out a badge, holding it up so it glinted in the neon light. Around them, a handful of shadows silently detached and approached. The rest of the crew.
“I don’t remember telling you what was stolen.”
“It was in the brief.”
“No. I specifically kept that out.”
Floofie glanced over his shoulder, comprehension dawning. “You’re not really a private eye.” He paused. Then he looked back at her, tilted his head, and gave her a cunning grin. “My, what beautiful teeth you have . . .”
“. . . All the better to eat you with.” Red nodded. “W01ff, you’re under arrest.”
Story notes
This story originally apeared on the Flash Fiction Force podcast on acpnate.com under the title “W01ff.”
I’ve taken the opportunity to update the title and wording slightly.
Credits
- Artwork by Levi Nunnink.
- Flash Fiction Force created and coordinated by ACP_Nate.