A Halo on Your Finger

The ring on Detective Gabriel Santal’s right ring finger began to vibrate, waking him from an accidental slumber at his desk. He rubbed his eyes and took a sip of a vibrantly green drink sitting in front of him, then put his hand out to reveal a collection of projections in front of his eyes. There was a voice recording from his captain, a succession of photographs of a crime scene, and a series of personnel profiles, amongst other attachments. With an opening and closing of his wrist, and a flick towards the clear wall in front of his desk, the information now projected onto the wall, large enough to see the whites of the eyes of the profile picture staring back at the detective.

“Play the recording,” Santal says under his breath as he zooms in on one of the photographs. He is fixated on one that shows a woman, lying dead on a desk chair, in a room almost identical to the one that he sits right now, the one where he spends almost the entirety of his life. The recording soon begins, projecting the voice of his captain, a woman who used to be one of Santal’s peers, but climbed up the ranks while he found no interest in the politics of the bureau, only in the cases presented to him.

“Santal, I need you at the crime scene asap. We have a homicide, and I need you on your a-game. The victim is the niece of Dorian Blake…You know, the same one who created that ring on your finger. Don’t mess this up – I thought you could use the good publicity.”

Santal sat up in his chair, focusing on the details of the case in front of him. Without losing his gaze, he again commanded to no one, “Give me the details.” A soft, male, almost- robotic voice began to speak from nowhere.

“Victim: Skyler Blake. Age: 23. Home Address: 124 Kirkland Ave, Apt 3A, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Date of Death: Thursday, September 9th, 2032. Time of Death: 7:23pm. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation by strangulation. No fingerprints found at the scene. No facial recognition for a potential suspect.”

“Tell me more about the victim.”

“Skyler Blake. Occupation: Intern. Employer: Blake technologies. Marital Status: Single. Known family members: Mother, Julia Blake and Father, Richard Blake, both reside in Houston, Texas. No known siblings. Social media algorithm calculates that she has five acquaintances that could be considered close. Four reside in Houston, Texas, one resides locally in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The algorithm shows that it is unlikely that she has a romantic partner.

“Alright that’s enough for now. Prepare my suit for going out.”

“Affirmative.”

Santal gets up from his chair, and begins to get dressed. He opens a drawer and pulls out one of many identical black crewneck sweaters, then opens another to reveal a similar collection of black pants. He gets dressed, and heads out the door, but not without first running his hands through his dark, thick, disheveled mop of hair. He gets to the front door of his tiny apartment, where a bio-suit is waiting for him. He fits himself into the airtight suit, and clasps the helmet closed to the air seal.

“You there?

“Indeed, I am, sir,” the A.I. assured him.

“Remind me that I need a haircut when I get back home” “Affirmative.”

---

Santal stepped into the streets of the North End; There was not a soul within 100 yards of him. The streets have been virtually empty since the virus hit and made fresh air a luxury. He walked the cobblestone streets in his bio-suit, feeling the ancient stones beneath his feet. Empty storefronts lined the streets, with large QR-codes emblazoned along the windows in hopes that a customer might give them their business, and not to Blake. For all the convenience that the company brought to the world, Blake sure made the world less interesting. Santal cleared the old neighborhood and entered the greenway, relieved that his cruiser was still parked where he left it. He jumped onto his ride and held out his hand to the dash, which read his ring and activated the vehicle; It was not quite a car, nor a bike, but something in between, hovered inches about the ground as it cruised around the city.

Santal reached the victim’s apartment just fifteen minutes later; it is easy to get around town when its illegal to go outside. He parked his cruiser, and greeted the officer standing watch outside the building with a flick of his hand, illuminating his rank in the air. He entered the building, and climbed the stairs to the third floor, keeping his suit on as he trudged up one stair at a time. He reached the apartment, where another officer opened the door and let him into the room, where it was now just him and the victim.

The apartment was trashed. Whomever had done this was looking for something. The victim sat sprawled on her desk chair, both eyes and her mouth half open. Santal took in the situation. She was dressed in athleisure clothing (there is not really anything else to where anymore). Her hair was recently brushed, and despite her loungewear, she was wearing makeup. He looked closer; her neck was black and blue, and the impression of her necklace was imprinted on her skin as if her killer did not even notice it between his hands and her skin.

“What was she doing?” Santal asked his A.I. counterpart.

“Blake Technology records show that in the 12 hours prior to her death, Skyler Blake was awoken by an alarm at 8:15am, listened to a playlist titled “shower mix” on her bathroom speaker from 8:32am until 8:46am, activated her coffee machine at 8:55am, then logged into the Blake Technology server for work at 9:13am. All data from the Blake Technology server is encrypted and would require a warrant to access. Skyler Blake opened her refrigerator at 11:23am, and again at 12:34pm. She logged out of the Blake Technology Server at 12:35pm.

From 12:37pm until 1:07pm her BlakeRing projected the television show “Seinfeld”. She again opened her refrigerator at 1:09pm, then logged back into the Blake Technology Server at 1:12pm. No other technology has been activated since.”

“No activity on the front door?”

“Negative. The door had remained closed for nearly three days, when the victim last received a food delivery.”

Santal stood in the corner of the room with a puzzled look on his face, gazing at the body of the young woman in front of him.

“At what times did Skyler Blake log into the Blake Technology Server each day this week?”

“On Monday, September 6th, Skyler Blake logged into the Blake Technology Server at 8:56am. On Tuesday September 7th, she logged in at 8:55am. On Wednesday, September 8th, she logged in at 8:55am.”

“So why was she late today?” Detective Santal began to examine the room. Skyler was an exceptionally neat person. In this world, when you never leave your house, you are either a neat freak or a mess, there usually was no in between. No dishes in the sink, laundry in the hamper, her workspace spotless. He looked to her, again noticing the indentation on her neck. Santal grabbed a pen from her desk, and latched it under the chain of her necklace. It was heavier than he expected. He pulled it up, revealing a heart-shaped locket from under the crewneck collar of her sweater.

“I need an evidence drone!” Santal screamed towards the officer manning the door. “Coming right up boss,” the officer barked back as he pulled a drone no larger than a

hummingbird out from his utility belt. The drone took flight, hovering at eye level with the detective, and a small hologram of a familiar, young woman’s face illuminated on the top of the device.

“Long time no see Gabe.” The face above the drone joyfully expressed.

“Good to see you too Carson. The victim is wearing a locket around her neck, and I need it opened.” He smiled at the end of the sentence hoping to get what he wanted from the tiny robot.

“Look at you, following the rules, I’m impressed. Sure thing, get out of the way and let me get to work!” The drone flew past Santal’s face and towards the victim, where two delicate arms rose from the side of the machine, and began to remove the locket from the around the victim’s neck. Santal let Carson work in silence as she removed the heart-shaped locket with surgical precision, and slowly placed it onto a plastic bag on the desk. The drone then proceeded to open the locket. Inside the locket, sandwiched between a photo of a black lab and a happy, Texan family, was a BlakeRing.

“Holy shit,” Santal muttered under his breathe. “Who’s is it?” The detective lunged for the ring instinctively, but Carson, wherever she was in the world, was too quick for him, snatching it up with her tiny drone arms before he could grab hold of it.

“I know you are not going to want to hear this, but you are out of your jurisdiction with this ring. BlakeRings are given out for free to everyone in the country, but technically Blake Technologies still owns them… And you need a warrant to get into them, but trust me, that’s not going to happen. You know how connected Blake is. They are the only ones that will be able to see what is on that Ring.”

“Well, that’s just fantastic. There is only one piece of evidence that could possibly lead to finding the killer, and the victim’s own family is stopping us from using it to bring him to justice. We have all this technology at our fingertips, but it doesn’t help up do a damn thing. I’ll see you at the next one, Carson. You stay safe out there.”

“You too Gabe. I can’t believe they still let you go out there with everything going on.” “Someone has to.”

---

Santal left the apartment building, nodded at the two officers keeping watch, and rode his cruiser back home in silence, longing for a time when human connection was possible, and

technology did not pretend to supplant it. It was not long until he reached the cobblestone streets of the North End. He parked his cruiser and began his walk home. The buildings alongside him had stood for 300 years, for most of which there were lit by only candlelight. It was not until the twenty-first century that these buildings began to crumble.

Detective Santal reached his front door and removed his bio-suit, exhausted from the evening’s events. He sat down on his bed, staring deflatingly at the ring on his finger. There was not much else for him to do.

“Play Terminator 2, on the big screen.”

“Beginning Terminator 2: Judgement Day”.