BATTER 4

I have no intention of mocking anyone’s private tastes, but the more I chew on it, the more I like that punchline. Baron lay on his back with his hands clasped over his chest, staring at the ceiling. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone as far as breaking his wrist. The kid had pretty hands. With that thought, he drifted into a deep sleep. He didn’t dream.

Baron woke up two or three times in between, grabbed a quick bite, and went back to sleep. By the time he felt an unbearable urge to pee, he finally dragged himself out of bed. While washing his hands, he noticed a necklace sitting by the sink. He picked it up with wet fingers; a blue topaz pendant dangled from the chain. Seeing how thin and short the chain was, it clearly wasn’t his.

After thinking for a long while, he realized it belonged to a woman he’d brought home ages ago. Or it might have been a man, or maybe neither… regardless, it was clear that after more than a year, they were someone it would be awkward to return it to. Baron stared at the necklace reflected in the mirror, debating how to dispose of it. Sometimes people would use a forgotten item as an excuse to visit multiple times.

‘Stockings this time? Maybe I should just set up a lost and found box in the house.’

‘You son of a bitch.’

That earned him about four slaps to the face. Not counting the times his chin got hit due to the height difference… he figured the blow to his solar plexus had probably been the most impressive one. Strangely, he remembered his lovers or flings more by their proficiency in assault than by their names or looks. If the Boss of Neon Leon had managed to pull the trigger in time, the kid would have gotten a perfect score.

Returning to the bed, Baron perched on the edge. The house he hadn’t seen in a while felt quite foreign. It was already late today; maybe he’d wake up on time tomorrow and do some cleaning. If he did, who knows—a pair of mesh underwear he had no memory of might turn up. Wow! It’ll be like a treasure hunt. Just then, Detective Liz requested a voice call. He didn’t have a great feeling about it, but Baron answered with a refreshed tone.

“Yeah, Detective Liz. What’s up?”

—Hey. Did I wake you?

“No, I just happened to be up. Did you call because you miss me already?”

Liz didn’t answer. He figured she’d probably sighed. Just as Baron was about to let out a laugh, her reply came. Her tone was tinged with a faint worry.

—Sorry to bother you while you’re off, but I thought you should know.

“Whoa, hang on. Let me guess. A drugged-up genetically modified tiger is tearing up downtown?”

—No, I’m not joking…

There was a scratching sound. He guessed it was the sound of Liz scratching her head. It seemed something genuinely frustrating had happened. Soon, she continued.

—The Neon Leon executives have all lost it. We can’t interrogate them.

“They’re claiming diminished responsibility?”

—No, there’s genuinely something wrong with their cognitive functions.

If they were all just faking it according to a manual for when they get arrested, she wouldn’t have gone out of her way to call him. His pulse, narrowing its intervals bit by bit, sensed a brand-new kind of “special.” Baron rubbed his lips and waited for what came next. Would Liz’s next words meet his expectations?

—There’s a whole bunch of them who seem to have completely regressed to childhood. This isn’t a holding cell; it’s a daycare.

“Interesting.”

Expectations met. Baron replied with a wide grin.

“Model detective is on his way.”

Though they’d been called tax thieves or pigs for centuries, the New-New York Police Department was always busy and rowdy. Filled with a mix of non-humanoid robots, human civil servants, complainants, suspects, witnesses, and so on, the station was practically a city in itself. Baron greeted Liz across the intersection-like partitions and hallways. It was in front of the holding cell swarming with suspects.

“Hey, has it been twenty-four hours?”

“Roughly. Did you eat dinner before coming?”

“This is my dinner.”

Baron flicked his finger, thumping the special glass surrounding the holding cell. Brief personal details and health statuses of the suspects, each in their respective spots, were displayed on the transparent window. With another tap, the floating information was wiped clean.

The scene visible through the cleared glass was just as Liz had described. Adults who were fully grown—looking even thuggish—were standing around blankly like kids who’d lost their moms. A few were even hanging out and playing together. They’d started a game resembling tag in the cramped space before beginning to bicker. Baron let out a hollow laugh at the sight, the first of its kind he’d ever seen.

“Man, this is quite a show.”

“You can tell just by looking it’s not an act, right?”

“If that’s an act, they deserve an award.”

Baron shoved his hands into his pockets and laughed. He leaned down to peer past the glass and asked.

“So… I can clearly see their temperament has changed. Is it true their memories are really gone, too?”

“At least that’s what they think themselves. Clever Jerry says it’s not a lie, either.”

“Clever Jerry” was the nickname for the investigative assistant AI used by the department, frequently utilized for lie detection. Since the concept of a lie is very complex, Jerry’s words couldn’t be adopted as decisive evidence in court, but they did serve to grease the wheels of the investigation’s direction.

Baron distinguished the familiar faces through the glass one by one. The very ones who had hurled curses at him yesterday were in there too. He fixed his gaze on Charlie Akita, a member whose left half was entirely mechanical. A silver device sparkled at the back of her head.

“Quite a few of the members were cyborgs with separate memory units. Did you check those?”

“Of course. But those had been wiped clean, too. And in case you’re wondering, the cloud backups are the same.”

“What’s the most recent record remaining?”

“Roughly seven years—no, six years, eleven months, and twenty-three days ago. Do you need the hours, too?”

I see. Baron nodded and straightened his back.

“How’s the Boss?”

“Still being interrogated.”

“Is he in a similar state?”

“Want to see for yourself?”

Maybe he’ll react differently if he sees you. Adding the thought to herself, Liz guided Baron to the interrogation room. Beyond the glass where several info-windows were floating, he saw the Boss huddled in a seat. He looked extremely dejected and anxious. His expression looked more fitting for a lost-child center than an interrogation room holding a suspect. Baron gave a hollow laugh and brought his face close to the window.

The wide glass blocking the interrogation room was made of a similar material to the one in the holding cell. Everything happening inside is filmed and simultaneously recorded in text, which Clever Jerry then summarizes. Sometimes, Liz explains it herself.

“He exercised his right to remain silent from the start. A lawyer stopped by briefly, and he’s been silent ever since… Jerry, show the footage from three hours ago. 2x speed.”

The recorded footage appeared on the display. The Boss in the video barely moved, but at a certain point, he gradually became restless. True to a guy who’d claimed to be king, his stiff neck slowly slumped, and his eyes began to wander. Then, he started to snivel.

In the interrogation that began shortly after, the Boss finally opened his mouth to say: Where did my mommy go? The video stopped there. A vague image of him mid-cry was preserved like a specimen.

“Heh.”

Baron grimaced and clicked his tongue. The deep lines etched around his mouth almost made it look like he was smiling.

“It’s true our Boss has a cute side, but this… is a bit new.”

“A cute side? No… never mind. You want to go in? He might show a different reaction if it’s you.”

“Thanks for believing in me.”

Baron shrugged. The door opened as he scanned his fingerprint at the entrance to the interrogation room. Sensing the presence, the Boss jumped in fright. Seeing those excessively rigid shoulders, Baron couldn’t help but recall the events of several nights past. Even when he was gasping for air, he hadn’t looked that pathetic.