Neurocyber 12: The Final Question: Neurocyber, #12

By Lee Shorter

This is the final episode in the story. Everything has to be talked through. All possibilities analysed. A conclusion must be reached and then V. I. Carmardy must act. What will she do? It depends upon whoever is in control of the neurocyber in her head.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Budleigh Books
• Release date: Aug 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223230960

Book preview

Preface

This is the end. It must all come together at the end. All the puzzling features of the case need to be explained. That’s the task.

Columbo (first name Lieutenant) explains to the murderer how he worked out the way in which the crime was committed. The murderer hurls personal abuse at him.

Hercule Poirot gathers all the suspects together in a room and seems to accuse them in turn, since they each appear to have a motive and opportunity, then finally reveals who dunnit before the police take the killer away.

Paul Temple holds a drinks party and the killer produces a gun and almost makes an escape.

Philip Marlowe and Sam Spade, they’re different, it all ends harshly. Someone takes the drop.

The Final Question

‘A nti-viral!’ I repeated , immediately anxious. ‘Are you going out to visit a case, or am I infected?’

‘It’s a Seven-Guardian Meeting at The Hall,’ Medic Hurley rumbled from inside her anti-viral suit. ‘I will give an update on your progress, we’ll discuss your next moves, and then as a formal committee we’ll call Lieutenant Brass in and explain the plan to him.’

‘But is there a virus alert? What’s with the suit just to go to The Hall? Fancy dress?’

It felt strange addressing an armoured voice box, kind of impersonal—in the full sense of not feeling as if you are talking to a living person. A peculiar barking sound came out of the suit. I suddenly realised why people talk about barking with laughter.

‘Don’t you like it? It’s the latest design by Art Trooper. It’s tough on my colleague Guardians, confined in Civic Hall, banned from leaving the building, but those of us in clinics and city halls, and the trainees and reserves, we need to travel. We medics can get away from the office or the surgery wearing a full-body suit. It disguises our identities.’

‘Doesn’t that terrify people on the street? They must think there’s been a new viral outbreak, especially seeing more than one of you at a time.’

‘Yes, that’s sharp of you,’ she boomed. ‘Only Guardian medics are allowed out on foot. All other Guardians may attend meetings at The Hall, but they must travel by pod.’

I wanted her to leave for her meeting. I was already finding it oppressive to have the massive suit sharing the room with me.

‘There’s a good side to this,’ she continued. I felt like waving her out the door, but the mechanical, droning voice went on. ‘I should be able to persuade the committee to give the Lieutenant permission to listen to the narrative, the one Clarke Maxwell made on his neurocyber. That way, Brass will discover for himself that you only shot Clarke to save me. Anyway, I must go, the pod’s waiting.’

‘No!’ I called after her. ‘Wait! Let’s hear it first, check what’s on it. We don’t know what Clarke narrated. I can explain when you get back.’

‘Fine,’ she growled. ‘I know as a committee we’ll agree Brass can hear it. I’ll tell them at the