Snapshot

“Once again, this isn’t new,” Davis said, checking the message on his phone. “You literally have been trying to get me to eat like you for three years.”


“It’s why I’m a good detective,” Chaz said. “Tenacity. What’s hottie pants say?”

“Hottie pants? Maria?”

Chaz nodded.

“She’s like twenty years older than you.”

“And hot. What does she say?”

“They found the gun in real life,” Davis said. “It was down there in the storm drain where Estevez threw it. Soaked in ten days’ worth of grime, but they rushed it through ballistics and it came back a match for the bullet. We might have to testify.” They now had enough evidence to convict Estevez, and the testimony of two hardworking cops would only reinforce that.

Chaz grunted. “Would still feel better if I’d been able to gun that punk down. Pay him back, you know?”

“You don’t even know what he did,” Davis said dryly.

“Killed someone. That . . . um . . . girl?” He shrugged. “Anyway, want to play hooky for the rest of the day?”

Davis looked up, feeling a cold jolt.

“Our next job,” Chaz continued, stealing another fry, “it’s not till . . . what, almost twenty-one hundred?”

“Quarter after twenty. Domestic disturbance. They want us to see who hit first. Corroborate one story or the other.”

“What a waste of our time.”

Davis shrugged. It wasn’t uncommon to go on small missions like that throughout the day, after the main case had been investigated.

“I don’t want to wait around eight hours to see who slapped who,” Chaz said. “Let’s save everyone some time and money and bug out of here. The shrink says I should let her know if I feel ‘emotional distress.’ ”

“Which means what?”

“Hell if I know. She seems to think that I should find living in Snapshots distressing.”

“Seriously?” Davis said. “You? Is she paying any attention?”

“She’s not even hot,” Chaz added.

Davis sighed, but it did little to cover his sudden anxiety. They couldn’t leave. Could they?

Maybe that would be for the best. . . .

No. Warsaw. 20:17. He had an appointment.

“Come on,” Chaz said. “Let’s go. I’ll even let you push the button to turn the Snapshot off.”

“I always push the button,” Davis said.

“And today I won’t complain.”

“No, look, I’ve got something for us to do.” Davis scrambled to pull out his phone again. “I’ve been reading the scanner forums—”

“Not again.”

“—and there was a blip about this day, when it happened for real. Though I couldn’t find anything in the precinct records, the forums claim that multiple squad cars were called in to search an apartment building. That will happen in the Snapshot in about an hour. Want to get there first and see what it was?”

“Forums,” Chaz said dryly. “Conspiracy forums. You said there wasn’t anything in the official records.”

“Nothing I was allowed to see.”

“Which probably means they didn’t find anything.”

“No. That would have been logged. There was nothing there.”

“Which means you didn’t have clearance. They didn’t want low-level detectives knowing about it, whatever it was.”

“And doesn’t that make you curious?” Davis asked. “We could do a little real detective work. Snoop. Who knows, maybe someone will try to shoot you.”

“You think so?” Chaz asked, perking up.

“It could happen. You’re very shootable.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Real detective work, eh?” He rubbed his chin. “You know what we’re going to find, right? Some politician with a whore. That’s why they’d hide it. Assuming it’s even real, and the forum nutjobs aren’t making things up.”

“Yeah, well, I suppose we could just play hooky,” Davis said. “Go back to the boring real world. Sit around. Watch a movie. Instead of living in one . . .”

“All right, I’m sold,” Chaz said, standing. “But I’ve got to go hit the head first.”

“Again?”

“That burrito, man.” He shook his head. “That burrito . . .” He wandered off in the direction of the bathroom.

Davis relaxed his fist and let himself breathe out, trembling. They’d stay in the Snapshot for now. Davis paid the bill with actual cash, but the diner only gave change as credit. That wouldn’t ever reach him though. This Snapshot city existed on its own, without external infrastructure. If people left the area the Snapshot covered, they vanished immediately. If someone was scheduled to enter the city, the Snapshot created their body and vehicle, then set them on the road driving in at the proper time.

He’d never been able to figure out the details. How did credit transactions work for those inside here? How did the Snapshot manage to re-create all outgoing and incoming transmissions? The power lines. The internet. Sunlight. What were the levels of reality for it all? He ate food in here. How much would he have to eat before the system recognized him as part of it, rather than being real? If he had too many burritos, would that badge someday shine for him, as it did for the dupes?

He tore himself away from that line of thinking. Keep focused on my task. He turned around in his seat, looking toward the woman with the children as she packed them up and herded them out the door. The oldest was six, self-proclaimed to his sister in an argument.

That was two years younger than Hal, but Hal had always been small for his age. Like his dad.

The mother and her children left, and Davis found himself staring at a different woman, sitting close to the back of the diner near the window. Slender, with black hair cut short. Angular features. Pretty. Very pretty.

“Well,” Chaz said, stomping up, “there’s another part of me added to the system: my dump. It’ll get recycled when the day breaks down, right?”

“I suppose,” Davis said absently, still watching the woman.

“Good to know that part of me will get used the next time they rebuild this. My dump will be recycled into lawyers. Cool, eh?”