I can't say I wasn't expecting that. Just like the others, she was going to run away. Typical. Maybe I was destined to be alone, no family, no friends, just me and my same old self, kicking it back in life with my Kickbacks on. Let's face the facts though, Lemon lasted longer than I expected her to. And she took care of me a million times more than any of my partners did, well, except Silas, my first partner. I guess what I'm saying is, at that moment, I knew I was going to miss her if she left. But there was nothing I could do, or at least wanted to do.
I gave a quiet exhale, starting the car and driving off. We zoomed out of the eighty fourth district and took a sharp turn right down Echoes Lane and into the Fubashi market. Beyond the market was Madison's Avenue, where the best of the best companies and stores did business, and among these was our destination.
Ese's Boutique should have been an easy guess for me with the brand of the wristwatch, the initials and whatnot. I can understand why she would be mad at me because of that…it was too much of an easy guess, especially for someone who calls himself a genius detective. I've only been to the place a couple of finger counts but from the much I remember, Ese's Boutique wasn't your ordinary jewellery boutique, well not on the surface anyway.
To any unsuspecting civilian, activities in the store resembled that of any normal jewellery store in Yolo. Stalls for wristwatches, earrings, rings and necklaces. But behind their closed doors the owners actually ran a drug empire, milking money out of a banned drug called cool zeez. Cool zeez would mess with your head, do ask how I know that.
We walked in to meet a man with a pink moustache and an overly loud, coloured beret standing next to a tall duckman with a green bill and feathery arms, both standing behind the counter. They called the duckman a Zendar, aliens from the planet of Cuton which was six hundred million light years away from the solar system, on the other end of the universe. The Zendar had an orange turtleneck on and some white pants, with a couple of rings in his right hand with that stupid beret resting on his head. The smiley look on their faces changed the moment we showed them our Trooper's badge.
"We don't want any trouble," said the duckman. His voice was rather deep for someone with an adorable looking face.
"Neither do we," Lemon replied, giving a quick sniff as she slid the wristwatch down the counter. "We just want some information."
"A Bentley Fifty-five!" Pink moustache said, looking down at it with the aid of a monocle.
"You looking to sell it?" The duckman blurted.
"Depends on what you're off…"
"We're looking to get the name of the purchaser," she glared at me, then looked back at the Zendar. "The initials are T.Z, as it says here and the date manufactured and delivered was June second, 2050. That was a month ago, the data is still fresh. So quack like a duckling and give us what we came for."
The Zander glared at her. Funny thing about Zanders was when they became angry, their white feathery skin began to turn red. That was exactly what was happening to duckman here.
"Oh no, you've gone and made him mad!" I said.
"Failure to cooperate with Troopers is a punishable offence by the law, that'll get you locked up in the slammer for two years or more," Lemon said. Then she smacked the glass counter right before the Zendar, leaving a little crack inside. She leaned forward, closer, and then she said;
"Just try me, I dare you."
"Timothy Zeralf!" Pink moustache yelled, taking everyone's attention.
"What?" We asked simultaneously.
"Timothy Zeralf, that's the name you're looking for," he replied.
Lemon got off the counter, dusting her jacket. "You sure about that, pink moustache?"
"Take a look for yourself," he replied, pulling out a computer mouse with a big orb in the middle.
He clicked on the orb, and the mouse displayed the transparent screen before us. Then, right clicking multiple times, he showed us all their orders and works for the past two months. After some scrolling we saw it, the purchaser's full name and the date of production. The date and time were exactly what we saw on the back of the wristwatch.
"Now please, leave," he said, folding the screen.
I grabbed the watch, pulling Lemon away before she started an actual fight with the Zendar. When we got to the car, we checked for the name in the Trooper's National Database Computer, or TNDC for short. It was the replacement for what used to be the policeman's means of identifying a driver on the roadside, and it came with a little upgrade too. With the TNDC we could confirm the identification of the owner of a car, track a car using the licence plate and locate the residence of any person just by his or her name, or DNA sample if the person is registered in the city.
Scanning for Timothy Zeralf's current residence took longer than we expected, so we had time to talk. But that we did not do. It was awkward to say the least, sitting in silence, the only noise in the air being the fasttrack processor making a buzzing sound as it scanned through for the name. I had a lot to say, but couldn't bring myself to blurt it out. She on the other hand looked spaced out, staring at the processor with her head leaned on her fist.
Finally the buzzing stopped. The holographic screen presented the Backland Suites, a hotel in the far east of Yolo, where there were small-time thieves and a black market filled with humans and aliens ready to rip you off and steal every penny in your pocket. It was close to the harbour where the Blover ships were docked, the hotel was the tallest building there going for a steady height of thirty feet. They painted it black for some gothic reason.
I stopped the car in front of the hotel doors. People were coming in and out, the population of the hotel seemed to be mostly Zendars, Zoarites, Jexines and humans. We prepared our blasters as we took one last look at the face of the man we were going to find. 'Always have your blasters set to the lowest,' the chief usually says, 'we don't want to blow the criminal's heads off, now do we?' But that rule doesn't apply in the field, when you're putting your life in danger. Lemon and I always set ours to medium which caused minor injuries every now and then, because if you didn't want to get hurt, then you wouldn't become a criminal.
We were set to leave, but before we got out of the car, the courage to finally say what I was thinking surged through my brain so I locked the doors.
"What, what the hell are you doing?" She asked, glaring.
"I've got something to say Lemon," I replied with a serious tone.
"Really, right now?" She asked in reply. "The suspect is literally in our reach Ezra, we don—"
"I've been having nightmares," I interrupted. "Since the beginning of this year."
She stopped struggling with the door, looking at me with a less glary stare.
"What kind of nightmares?" She asked. "Nightmares about your past?"
"I don't know, there's always a lot of commotion with no concrete detail. It does probably have something to do with my past, but I never seem to get to the end of the dream."
"Whoa," she exhaled, lying back on the chair.
"Listen, I know I've been a pain in the ass for the last six months and…I didn't tell you about the nightmares to change your mind about leaving me, okay? You were right, I don't communicate as much with my partners. I just wanted you to know the truth before you left."
"Ezra I…"
"We should go," I interrupted. "It's rude to leave our host waiting."
I unlocked the doors. She exhaled, opening hers and pushing her blaster into the hostler and using the jacket to cover it, I did likewise. We looked left, right and up, then we crossed the road and walked past the doorman who opened the door for us. Walking up to the receptionist, we simultaneously leaned on the counter.
"Hi, how can I help you today?!" Exclaimed the Viltron standing as the receptionist.
Besides their silvery skin and their unbearably amiable personality, the Viltrons were loud aliens whose planet was made up of only females and no males. Due to this, they referred to everyone as madam and wore really skimpy clothes. And to add to that they were asexual beings who reproduced by mitosis and meiosis and had no sexual desires or cravings despite being extremely beautiful beings. This made them the ideal species for jobs like receptionist, secretary, modelling, and husband monitoring.
"Timothy Zeralf," Lemon said, "what's his room number?"
"I'm sorry, I can't disclose that unless you have a visitor issued by him."
"Is this enough of a visitor's pass for you?" I asked, sliding my badge down the counter.
She cleared her throat after seeing it. "One moment madam."
She pulled out the mouse, clicking on the Orb in the middle and scrolling through the data. She got to the search button then she typed out the name of the suspect, and his room number appeared on the holographic screen—room 504. She pressed the orb and the screen vanished. With a smile she said;
"He's in room 504 ladies!"
"Thanks," I replied, taking my badge and pushing it into my jacket pocket.
It was futile trying to correct her when she said that, to me, the Viltrons were like sentient androids, they were slow at adapting and always saw things from their point of view, it was difficult for them to take correction…kind of like another species I know. We got into the elevator, heading for the seventieth floor where room 504 was. There's this weird music the elevator always chimes and you can never find it or shazam intentionally and you always encounter it again by accident. That music was the only sound disrupting the silent airwaves as Lemon and I patiently waited for our destination.
The elevator stopped, making the ding sound as it slid its doors opened and we walked out. The hallway was partially quiet, there was music coming from one of the rooms and it was almost empty too. We saw two ladies come out of a room and walk past us, giggling after staring at my face for a while.
"Always the ladies man, huh?" Lemon smiled.
"I didn't even do anything!" I replied.
She gave a short smirk, then returned to her stern as we stopped at the door, the door of room 504. This was the room where the sound of the music was coming from. Loud booming music that almost made it impossible for them to hear the doorbell we were pressing. Suddenly, the music stopped and it became suspiciously quiet inside.
Lemon pressed the doorbell once more, there was no answer.
"This is Cosmic Prime, we just want to talk!" I said.
The silence continued. Suddenly I felt something, like a spidey sense kind of moment. It wasn't the first time I've had that feeling, and usually nothing good happens afterwards. So, based on that experience, I said to Lemon;
"You should probably stay clear of the door."
The moment she did that, shrapnels from the wooden door scattered everywhere as the door burst open after the blast of a sixty four Slinger, one of the deadliest proton blasters out there. This was definitely our guy.
"Shields!" I demanded.
Immediately Lemon stood in front of me, raising her arm up and creating a full body invisible forcefield that was practically invincible, the blasters couldn't get through. We walked into the room, and found five armed men shooting us from all corners.
"You take the left, I'll take the right," she said.
I nodded in agreement, immediately placing my back against hers. Our guns up, ready to defend ourselves. The room was immediately turned into a battlefield, in a battle between the Troopers and two couple of guys firing unregistered guns. And as obvious as the evening sky that day, they were losing that battle.
Suddenly one of them rose up. It was Timothy. He had a yellow levi jacket on, black apple jeans and some Benjilion shades—those red shades were out of production and totally hard to find. He dashed off, jumping over the balcony.
"I've got Zeralf!" I said to Lemon, chasing after the man. She nodded, doing her best to hold down the shooters that were not down.
I jumped down balcony by balcony, following him fifty three balconies down until we touched the ground. Immediately he landed on the ground he ran left, heading out the alleyway. There were only two places to go after the alleyway, left which led to downtown or right, which led to the black market. He went right.
I followed him swiftly, running into the market where there were alot of people walking about, a crowd that you could easily get lost in. He tried to blend in but his outfit betrayed him. I spotted him immediately I jumped on the pillar of an illumination pole. I smirked, jumping into the crowd and making my way towards him while he did his best to push forward, drilling through the crowd one person at a time.
He burst out in an alleyway where there were stalls and small lit up stores that sold multicoloured carpets, kitchen appliances, some ceramics and a small Japanese store at the end of the road that sold mangas and other comics alike. I caught up to him at the end of the road, he stood next to the manga store.
"It's over Zeralf!" I said, adjusting my blaster after taking a breather. "Put your hands up and turn around slowly, you're under arrest for the suspected murder of Nicholas Fastcatch and his wife Nicole Fastcatch."
I pointed my blaster at him as I watched him raise his hands up and slowly turn around. The onlookers began coming out of their stores to see what was happening, man, civilians can be such a pain. When he had finally turned towards me, I commanded him to fall on his knees and lie down on the ground.
"On the ground, on the ground!" I said.
But the man had other thoughts. Before he could get on his knees he took off his glasses and shot a powerful Laser beam from his eyes, aiming for my head. Obviously this guy was without a doubt the X master. I swiftly dodged it, falling to the ground. That was his opportunity to skedaddle, he ran into the manga store and I followed.
I pushed my blaster level to the highest, this guy was dangerous and I wasn't getting paid enough to risk my life because of some stupid amendment. There was nowhere left to run in that small store, no back doors, no back exits, he was cornered.
"Ezra, Ezra, do you copy? Over!" Lemon's voice over the Comms. She repeated her question again, ruining my stealthiness around the shelves.
"I do, I do!" I aggressively whispered in reply.
"I'm done here, where are you? Over."
"Black market, alleyway manga store. I've got Zeralf cornered."
"I'm on my way, over and out."
"You really think you've got me cornered?" Zeralf asked, walking out of where he was hiding, eight feet away from me. He had a rough, sandpaper accent like a mixture of the French accent and the German accent.
"Oh you can talk, I thought you were just a mute killer."
"Those people deserved to die."
"Nobody deserves to die buddy," I pulled up my gun, pointed straight at his head. "Hands above your head!"
"Not gonna happen, buddy."
When he said that, I knew it was about to go down. Before I could shoot, he scorched everywhere. His head turned as his laser beams destroyed the whole store; the ceiling, the shelves, everything. The fire alarms were going off and some of the shelves had caught fire. I tried to shoot him with the blasters but they weren't doing any good. I hid behind a shelf in the midst of the commotion, wondering what to do next. Should I use my powers? Article 58 of the Trooper's 34th Amendment clearly stated that in no circumstances was I to use my powers unless it was a life or death situation.
This definitely was a life or death situation. I threw the blaster aside, looking back to see where Zeralf was. He was close.
"Where are you?!" He screamed, "this is no time to play hide and seek."
He'd gone berserk. I sprung up, shouting his name, we were twelve feet apart.
"It's not too late to surrender," I said.
He chuckled. "Say hello to your maker, filthy pig!"
His beam came straight at me, I had already pointed my index and middle finger at him like a handgun. But before I could shoot my energy sphere, Lemon jumped in front of me with a forcefield shield, blocking the laser beam just in time.
"Put your fingers down Ezra!" She yelled. "You wanna take half the market out?!"
Then with a widened hand and her left arm stretched towards Zeralf, she manipulated the earth under his feet, pushing the ground up forcefully which in turn threw him up against the ceiling and then crashing down. As soon as he landed, Lemon ran over to him and created a forcefield around his eyes, and then cuffed him with some power inhibitor cuffs.
"It's over Zeralf," she said, pulling him up.
I dropped my fingers, sliding them into my pockets as I watched her put the handcuffs on him. Then I noticed something under my feet, a manga. The front cover, it looked familiar.
"Attack on Titan?" I asked after I picked it up. Apparently it was one of the books that survived the burning and destruction. I skimped through the pages, trying to find what was familiar about it.
"I didn't know you read manga," Lemon said, watching me flip the pages.
"I don't, there's just something oddly nostalgic about this one. I just can't put my fin—"
I suddenly stopped when I saw a name, the name of the protagonist. It read Eren Yeager.
The moment I read that name, my whole consciousness shut down. My eyes glowed blue and sparks of electricity started coming off my body as it started to give a pulsating glow.
"Ezra?" Lemon called. "Ezra!"
I could hear her but I couldn't move. The electrical sparks became worse, blowing up light bulbs, causing car sirens to go off, and the malfunctioning of other electrical devices within a five square radius. I stood there like a mannequin, unable to do anything.
"Ezra. Snap out of it!" She yelled, trying to take the manga out of my hand. She had a forcefield suit, the only thing keeping her safe from the crazy sparks.
I had gone berserk before but this one was different, the sparks and the glowing eyes were new. Lemon struggled to get the manga off me or at least snap me out of it, despite the fact that she was using ninety nine percent of her super strength. Something was coming, I could feel it. I tried to tell her to run away from me but my inner thoughts couldn't get to her.
In the calm before the storm, my subconsciousness showed me the face of a woman, smiling heartily at me. Then boom! Like an atomic electric bomb, a wave of energy exploded out of me, sending an electrical shock wave that swept through the whole of Yolo. I passed out, and so did Lemon.