The indistinct chatter and sounds of office equipment greeted Gabriela when the elevator doors opened with a ding. The smell of freshly roasted coffee washed over, and not the synthetic crap they served in the lobby downstairs, but freshly ground roasted beans. Gabriela smiled and let the relative quiet and the aroma of the office wash over her.

Her office was small, and sharing it with her partner made it feel smaller. Brian was already at his desk, hunched over a monitor. His lips moved silently as he read through the morning's emails.

"Couldn't wait for me in the lobby?" Gabriela took off her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair before she took a seat behind her desk. She had to shuffle halo disks to the side of her desk before she pushed the trash from yesterday's lunch into the waste bin with a swipe of her arm. All so she could make room for her coffee.

Brian's desk, which was pushed up against hers so that they worked facing one another, was immaculately cleaned and organized compared to hers. He peaked up over his monitor. "You didn't sound like you were in the mood to chat. Plus, I hate waiting in the lobby. Too damn depressing."

Gabriela sat her palm terminal into its cradle. Her monitor lit up, and a corporate logo appeared, followed by a chime.

"Besides." He continued. "I got us all caught up on this morning's email."

"Anything we should care about?"

"Safety is the company's number one concern." Brian held up two fingers when he said the number one. "I guess profits are a close second. They want every field officer to wear tact gear, as well as all detectives if they are going into the field."

Gabriela took a sip of her coffee. The bitter taste almost hid the metallic tang of the fake sugar. "We have to strap on body armor before we leave the building?"

"Safety is the number one concern, Gab. That, and rising insurance costs that accrue every time an officer is shot. But you say safety, I say profit. What's the difference, really?" He shrugged.

Gabriela smiled and quickly skimmed through her own emails. After she read and deleted them, she loaded up the file the woman in the lobby had sent her. The name on the medical record was Mary Andrews. Gabriela made a quick records search, using the bio-feedback information the girl's mother had provided her.

"Brian." She asked as she finished reading the missing person report. "You have dealt with a chop doc before, right?"

"No, not since I was a beat officer," Brian answered as he peeked back over his monitor. "Why do you ask?"

"I think I may have found one."

"In the upper cities?" The normal bored tone of Brian's voice changed to almost like a giddy boy opening presents on Christmas.

"No, it's in the lower city. Almost in the underpart."

"Oh," Brian sighed and leaned back into his chair. "Not surprising."

"I know, but it's still something worth looking at, don’t you think?"

“Run it over to one of the other offices that deal with the lower city.” He mumbled.

“Why not deal with it ourselves? Play it where it lands?” Gabriela folded her hands under her chin and gave him her best smile.

“That’s not going to work on me.”

“Come on, Bri. Where's your sense of wonder?”

“It died. The day I met you.”

“Funny.” Gabriela sighed and slumped back. She clicked back until the missing girl’s profile came up.

“Okay, Princess. Tell me why you think you got a lead on a chop doc.” Brian leaned his chair back and placed his feet on the desk before he crossed his arms.

“A missing person’s report. The girl was pregnant before her implants went offline, few days ago one came back online.”

“So?” He scoffed. “The girl died before some lowlife pilfered her mods. Shit happens all the time.”

“It was wet gear.”

Brian uncrossed his arms and leaned forward. “Walk me through your thought process here.”

"Getting pregnant excludes you from Bioloxys's lotto or from their services altogether.” She explained. ”The lottery is all the kids in the lower city have to look forward to if they want a normal, healthy family. So, it makes sense they would seek out a 'bellow board' solution to their problem."

"Back street abortions are a little different from a chop doc." Brian frowned.

"No, but it's the perfect opportunity."

"How so?"

"Think about it. Desperate couple, looking to fix a problem, or maybe even birth an undocumented. They are going to need more than some asshat with a coat hanger. There is a market for fetal tissue, even on the street. And if the mom doesn't make it, why not pilfer a few mods. She's not going to need them anymore." She added.

“You could be right,” Brian admitted, “but it could be that this girl’s mother needed some extra cash. Maybe she got hooked on bliss. She murders her daughter. Sells the body to bliss cook. He sells the shit mods this girl has, cooks up some bliss from the woman's grandkid.”

“I doubt that.”

“Why? What makes you think this is a chop doc?”

“A hunch.”

Brian laughed. “You are starting to sound like the crip down the hall. Geraldo is always following his gut.”

Gabriela ground her teeth and looked away, rapping her fingers rhythmically on her desk. “Tell me about the chop doc you ran into.”

He sighed as he shot her a disapproving look. “It was a gang running a butcher shop, snagging people on the streets. A modder from the upper city had gone missing. That got the brasses attention. They found the gang in a matter of hours, sent us in to clean up and get the poor schmuck out."

“And?”

"It was pretty fucked up, Gab. Implants hanging from racks like cuts of meat. The worst part was some of those implants were wet gear. You need blood flow to keep them from burning out. So, they had what they called blood bags. People kept alive after they took their mods out to keep the more delicate mods active. Just limbless torsos hanging from hooks. Still conscious." Brian finished with a slight shiver.

"And the chop doc?"

"Some med school dropout. Shot himself up with a bunch of chems when the raid started. Why are you getting involved in something like this? The lower city is not our beat."

"I dunno." Gabriela continued tapping her fingers on her desk as she gave the question some thought. She wanted to tell him how desperate Mary Andrews's mother was. The woman had to know her daughter was dead. "I guess I just want a little change in pace."

"Yeah, right."

"What?"

"You want to lock that promotion down. And you think finding a chop doc will do it."

"That's it, Brian. You nailed it." She said as she rolled her eyes. “You solved the case.”

"That's why they call me the best detective in New Madrid." He mumbled.

"I'm going to check it out. Do some digging." Gabriela stood up and grabbed her jacket. "Want to come with?"

"Not really." Already Brian was deep in thought, his lips slowly moving wordlessly as he read. Gabriela knew she had lost his attention. She grabbed her coffee and palm terminal before she left her office. She needed some more insight on the case and needed to talk to someone who knew it and the lower city. She needed to speak with Geraldo Montes.

The man's office was at the other end of the floor. Gabriela smiled and nodded as she passed colleagues and officers. She ran the gauntlet of pleasantries and office small talk.

The office was alive. The conference room was filled with beat officers listening to a morning briefing. Pages rushed back and forth with boxes of evidence, mail, and even canned beverages. A few men and women were cuffed to desks as they were interrogated by officers. Most of the civilians were modded. The gen perfect had enough money not to be bothered with coming down to headquarters personally.

Finally, she made it to Geraldo’s office. The wooden door, which was probably as old as the building itself, was closed. Gabriela could hear Geraldo's deep, baritone voice through the old door.

She rapped her knuckles against the chipped and worn door when his voice had died down. There was a moment of silence before his gruff voice called out, "Come in."

The room was dark and windowless, the only light was the glow of the desk monitor. Geraldo Montes's office was small, smaller than hers. Boxes with case files were stacked everywhere, as well as halo disks scattered around. He sat alone behind a small desk that only added to the man's bulk.

He looked up; his augmented eyes gleamed briefly in the darkness of the room. "Detective Fohren. I did not expect you. Did we have an appointment?" His voice was a deep bass, the kind you could almost feel in your bones.

"No," she said as she closed the door behind her. Geraldo worked alone. Most detectives in the lower city did. It was a matter of optics for her and Brian to work together. Clients in the upper city expected the extra treatment. "I wanted to talk to you about Mary Andrews."

Geraldo's eyes flashed for a few seconds before he nodded. "Went missing awhile back. Neural implant went offline, and we declared her dead."

"Sounds about right." Gabriela said as she sat her coffee down on a box and produced her palm terminal. She cast the file she had received from the girl's mother to him. "Until her implant came back online."

Geraldo looked down at his monitor. "Well, unless she's the second coming of Christ, I would say someone is using the implant."

"That's what I was thinking. It could be a chop doc."

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will look into it." Geraldo never looked up from his monitor as continued his work.

"I was thinking of looking into it."

"Did you find this information in the upper city?"

Gabriela cleared her throat. "No, it was given to me by the girl's mother."

"Kathryn Andrews."

"Yes, her."

"Well, unless this case is somehow connected to the upper city, then it is out of your jurisdiction."

"It's not. I was just hoping you would let me look into this."

Geraldo stopped his work and looked up at her. "Why?"

Gabriela wanted to lie to him as well, tell him she just wanted a change of pace or some experience in the lower city, but-

“Because her mother is desperate." That was all she could say.

"You want to go to the lower city and hunt down a chop doc because a girl's mother is desperate?"

"You're right." Her face reddened. Gabriela didn’t know what she was expecting. If the roles were reversed she would probably laugh him out of her office. They were not friends, they were hardly collegues; they were competitors. "Forget I asked. Good luck on the case."

"Hold up." Geraldo stood up. He towered over her in the small dark room. "Get suited up, and I'll meet you down in front of the building."

"You are coming with me?"

"It's my case." He explained as he put on his long raincoat and checked his sidearm before he followed her out of the office. He had to stop and duck under the door frame. "Make sure you wear full-body gear. Standard PPG, nothing less. The lower city is rough. People tend to fire bullets down there, not cease and desist orders."

"I can handle myself."

"I never said you couldn't. I said you could get shot. I'll meet you downstairs. Let me know when you are ready, and I’ll bring the car around." He left abruptly.

Gabriela felt the pit of her stomach flutter. The excitement of something new, something dangerous. The feeling was almost impossible to contain. She stopped briefly by her office. "I'm headed out." She told Brian.

"Have fun, don't stay up too late, Princess." Was all he murmured.