Lambert parked his hover car in the middle of the street, which was still busy despite the late hour. A furious concert of honking horns passed them by but ended abruptly when he turned on the blue lights.

The doors swung up silently and Wave staggered outside. Somehow it reminded her of her accident, only this time Lambert’s rapid driving was the cause of her dizziness. Yeah, she got the message that she shouldn’t have touched his display without permission because after that he drove particularly recklessly. At least she hadn’t fallen asleep this way, as her body slowly started to demand rest.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Lambert eyed the road between his hover car and the concrete posts. "This looks really clean."

Wave glanced over the car hood at the spot where the wreckage of her hover car had lain yesterday. He was right, the ground looked like it had been licked. No remains of the hover car, no wood chips, no flakes of rescue foam. The street cleaners had done a perfect job here.

"I’ve documented my accident, wait a minute." That this embarrassing accident should be useful to her at some point, she really would not have believed. She flipped through the images on her lens. A picture of Ember, who looked cute when she had opened the door for her. Wave must have taken it subconsciously. Next, she saw those two Akimoto people. She could have done without them. Next came ... a picture of the jungle she had needed for work.

"That’s weird," she muttered, "where did it go?"

Wave checked all of her accounts, where her lens would have shared the picture of her accident as well, but she couldn’t find it anywhere. "Diplodocus dung!"

"What does that even mean, translated into citadel-speak?"

"I took a picture of my accident but it’s gone. I uploaded it to the net, and it’s nowhere to be found there either."

"Are you sure-"

"Yes, dammit!" Oh, what a stupid question. You would have been able to see the front of the house across the street in the picture.

If she couldn’t find her own picture, she’d just have to use the newscast. She searched for 'Aki + news + suicide', but nothing. There was nothing to be found. Wave felt the blood rush to her head and panic filled her, that something was as wrong as it could be and she was about to lose control.

Wave closed her eyes. She needed to calm down as it would be the only way she could find a solution. She breathed in and listened to the whirring of the hover cars, which now passed by dutifully and barely audibly. She exhaled and opened her eyes. Then she said quietly, with a barely perceptible tremor in her voice, "Sergeant Lambert, isn’t it strange?"

"Hmm?" The Sergeant hadn’t minded her snapping at him, or didn’t let it show. He eyed the complex in front of them, which also formed a tunnel through which the roadway ran.

"All the news about Aki’s death has disappeared from the network."

Lambert simply ignored this shocking news, glanced up, and squinted his eyes. What could he possibly make out in the light up there? "Hmm!"

"Did you spot anything?"

"Yes." He walked up to her with his hands in his pockets, radiating the very composure she herself was desperately trying to find.

"Two things," he said. "First, someone cleaned this place up thoroughly. Just not thoroughly enough. That somebody replaced a windowpane up there, but didn’t pay attention to the fact that the surrounding panes were photochromic panes."

"Photo-what?"

"Panes that can change their tint depending on how the light hits them. There are mostly offices up there. There’s nothing more annoying than being fried by the sun while you’re working, so their windows darken on their own when the light is too strong."

"So that’s where the desk came from?" Wave looked up, narrowed her eyes like Lambert, but could only guess at what he had seen.

"It can’t be ruled out," the Sergeant explained objectively.

Wave gave up searching and looked at Lambert again. "And what’s the second thing?"

"Somebody’s been doing a thorough cleanup on the net, too. CCR itself or someone on behalf of CCR. I can still see what has been deleted thanks to my authority, but for ordinary citizens, Aki practically didn’t die." Lambert fell silent, lifted his hat from his head, turned it a little, and then put it back on. "It goes even further than that. For anyone who doesn’t remember him by himself, he didn’t even exist, to begin with."

"What?" That felt like a punch to her stomach and her knees went weak as if someone had hit her for real. She sat down on the hood of Lambert’s car, ignoring the way he sucked in a sharp breath. "Why would anyone do that?"

"Hey, I’m an investigator, not a psychic. Let’s find out.” He eyed her. “And get off my hood."

"What ... what about his songs?" She kept sitting on Lambert’s hover car.

"Sorry, all gone."

If they were gone from the Citadel’s network, it meant that no one could hear them anymore. No one in the whole city. Nobody needed to save music for themselves nowadays, because it could be accessed anywhere, anytime. Wave had doubts that anyone in the outside world had copies of his songs and even if they did, that person had to be found first. Now there was only Aki himself, but he seemed to know only this one song. That one song that had fallen silent a while ago.

"Aki?"

No one answered.

"You’re still here, aren’t you?"

Wave’s head went faint and her ears rushed. Not the gentle sound of waves washing up on the beach, but a storm raging on the high seas.

"I ...," Aki finally spoke up, and the storm died down as quickly as it had picked up. "I’m just reliving my fall over and over again, and finally hitting your hover car. Sorry if I’m not particularly talkative."

"So, what exactly do you remember, Aki?" asked Lambert, completely unfazed by the storm in Wave’s head or by the fact that Aki was dying over and over again.

"My memory starts in the air. I hold onto the desk and spin along with it. The ground gets closer and closer. One hover car dodges me. The next one doesn’t make it. I catch a glimpse of a woman. Heavy, black hair. A natural, but pretty face. Then noise, pain, and ... darkness. I wake up briefly and I’m in the cockpit of a Med’s hover car."

Wave swallowed. Had he seen her just before he died? A pretty face? Well, if he said so. "When he woke up, he must have already been in my hearing aid. I was flying along in the hover car."

Lambert nodded. "Do you remember anything before the fall?"

"No, sorry." Aki’s voice sounded weak and thin now, and Wave felt he was suffering from his own memory. This particular depth in his voice, she had fallen in love with the first time she heard it, had disappeared. Was it just the memory that was bothering him, or was something else wrong, too?

"Don’t be sorry," Lambert said. "If the memory of your fall intensifies here, we’re on a good track. We should go up now. I wonder if we can find the missing pieces of the puzzle that precede your death there."

A good track? To Lambert, Aki was apparently nothing more than a curious case. But to Wave, he still existed. He could tell her bad jokes, talk to her, and they could hum together the song that meant so much to both of them.

Lambert casually made his way to the office complex, oblivious to Wave’s thoughts. He was probably lost in his own thoughts, too, tying up loose threads of his cases or what investigators were up to in their heads, because the doors of his hover car were still open.

"Don’t you want to ..."

The doors closed on their own. Wave shrugged and remained silent. Show-off, she thought to herself and took another deep breath. They had to act now to keep things from getting worse, and she had to try to keep a level head. Then she hurried after Lambert so he wouldn’t have a reason to order her around again.

They reached an entrance, unadorned and without advertising. Only a long list of the names of all the companies that were headquartered here floated digitally next to the doors. Wave ran her finger down the list.

"CCR is missing," she noted.

"CCR, that was my workplace," Aki muttered. "I remember. This is where I came in every morning. Then into the elevator ..." The rest of his words disappeared in incomprehensible murmurs.

Wave was getting restless again. Her calm resolve hadn’t lasted long. Shouldn’t he have grown stronger instead of weaker with the new memories? After all, the memories of his childhood had made him stronger, too, had made his voice clearer and more distinct. Perhaps it was because of the way he reacted? Good experiences built him up and bad ones ... of course, she herself would certainly not have been pleased if she had to witness her own death over and over again.

Lambert wanted to enter, but the door did not open automatically. He was stopped just in time before he ran into it.

"Is something wrong?" Wave asked.

"The door’s been locked. Seems someone does not like visitors around here. But that’s not a problem." Lambert made some motions in the air and tapped his ear. With a loud clack, the doors popped open a crack. He pressed his hands into the gap and pulled them apart until it was wide enough for him to squeeze through. Wave followed him and almost fit twice in the opening. Sideways, at least.

"I just hope the elevators are working." Wave didn’t know how far up Aki’s office was, but Lambert had looked really far up out there.

"You’re a child of the wilderness, Wave. You shouldn’t mind a few steps."

"Tell that to my body, it’s been climbing walls and jumping over urban canyons all day." She yawned. "Besides, I’m tired."

Wave leaned into the stairwell next to the elevator and lifted her head. She couldn’t see where it ended. "Don’t tell me you’re going to walk up there?"

"If I had to, I’d climb that stairwell, as well," he replied seriously. Then, whirring, the elevator doors opened. "But not today. Come on."

Lambert made an inviting motion into the elevator car. Four people should fit in there at once, but Wave felt it was too small even for the two of them. She stood in one of the corners and Lambert squeezed in next to her. He wasn’t a giant like Hammer, but he had a broader build. A guy who took the Security Corps training at least as seriously as Ember did.

So close together, she could even smell his aftershave. Not unpleasant, but thankfully not a strawberry smell. That would have absolutely driven her crazy on the ride up. Lambert looked at her urgently. Was he thinking about the case or having similar thoughts? Something like, "Not only did you jump and climb today, no, you even smell like it!" At least that wouldn’t be the first time she’d heard that. Ember had teased her about her hobby in the beginning, too. At least, until she started training herself.

"I do miss the elevator music," Aki broke the awkward silence.

"Indeed," Lambert said. "That’s strange. For a building where people should work day and night, this is strange."

Aki hummed his song, replacing even the elevator music he had missed. It was so soothing to hear his voice. Wave could sink into the melody. Forget her tired bones and ...

"Wave! Wake up!"

Wave startled up. She swayed and felt woozy. "Oh, I think I was out for a moment." What a busy day. How did Lambert make it if he really was always there when his job called?

"This might not be the best place to sleep."

Wave nodded. She watched the floor display. Just then, 42 crept by. How much farther up did it go? At 57, the elevator gently stopped.

"He fell from here?" Wave asked incredulously. "Math isn’t exactly my strength, but with a fall from that height, I can’t imagine that there would have been anything left of my hover car or the desk at all."

"Weren’t you paying attention in driving training?" Lambert shook his head in disbelief. "There’s a force field above the roadways that slows down falling objects. You know, because of the giant eagles and the turtles they try to crack on the pavement."

"I had always thought the eagles were a joke," she replied with a sheepish smile. It was still nonsense, of course. As if the city would let such animals live next to the walls.

Lambert stepped out of the booth and ordered, "Lights!" But nothing happened. Wave looked past him into a dim but empty reception room. She made out the outline of a counter, behind which should have been someone receiving visitors.

The Sergeant pulled his hand out of his pocket and threw an object up, where it caught in mid-air. "Light!" he commanded again, and the orb lit up in a soft and warm white. On the wall behind the reception counter, the outline of CCR stood out clearly. That must have been where those letters hung until recently.

"Unbelievable ...," Wave whispered.

Lambert looked around. "Yeah, the channel must have disappeared into thin air overnight."

Wave launched CCR on her lens. But instead of melodious music or smooth anchor voices, only scratchy static hit her. "They’re off the air. How can that be?"

Lambert didn’t answer her question but walked down the hallway to the left. He kept his right hand outside his pocket now, and with a clicking sound, an object emerged inside. A gun. The drone followed him above his shoulder and the beam of light fell focused into the hallway ahead of them.

He reached the first door, kicked one of the sliding elements forcefully out of its anchorage, jerking his arm up in the process. Then he stared inside for a few seconds and moved to the next door. Wave followed at a distance. It wasn’t that she was afraid of what awaited her in one of the rooms, it was more the Sergeant with his drawn weapon that she was wary of.

She peered inside the first open door. The light of the city that never slept fell into the room from the outside, shrouding cables peeking out of the floor in some places in its dim glow. Otherwise, the room was completely empty.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw and heard Lambert kicking open the next door. This time he disappeared inside. Wave averted her eyes from the interior of the first room and hurried after him. There he stood, staring out through the window into the night. Stepping closer to the pane, he looked down. Wave stood beside him and followed his gaze. She pressed her nose to the pane until she could make out Lambert’s blinking hover car below in the depths.

"That was my studio," Aki breathed, and Wave bumped her forehead in shock. The window vibrated with a deep sound maybe for two seconds, then silence reigned again. "Even though it’s empty now."

"That’s all you remember?" Lambert asked.

Now that was enough for Wave. "You’re an emotionless klutz! Do you actually know that? Why don’t you give Aki a minute before you continue pestering him?"

Lambert looked at her, his face not giving away whether he was annoyed that she interrupted him. "He’s dead, isn’t he? So does he really mind?"

"Your robots supposedly don’t have feelings either and are demonstrating now." She had her index finger pointed at him and was about to poke him. "Just because you don’t understand how that’s possible doesn’t mean it’s not true. Aki has feelings, dammit! He’s not just a voice in my ear, he’s real!"

"You ...", Lambert looked astonished. Not the reaction Wave had expected. "He’s more than just a celebrity to you, isn’t he?"

"Yes," Wave whispered, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. Sure, she’d fallen in love with that voice as a young woman and always had wondered who could be the man it belonged to. His music had accompanied her through that difficult time, and after talking to him, she knew they had a lot more in common than she would have ever guessed. She loved Aki, she knew that. Not in a physical way, how could she? But she did love him.

"I’m sorry," Lambert said softly. That gentle way the ancient cops always delivered the bad news in the movies. Wave knew what he was trying to tell her. "I’m sorry, but he’s dead. For whatever reason we’re still hearing him, I can’t say. But you have to be prepared for this condition to not last."

Wave’s eyes grew moist and a tear rolled down her cheek. Tiny and yet there it was, bouncing off her chin and bursting on the floor into a thousand tiny droplets. Just as her dream of saving Aki was about to burst. She sniffled and wiped her cheek with the sleeve of her synth suit, which was rough and not fit to be a handkerchief.

"Hey Wave." Aki’s voice crackled. "I’m still here, don’t worry. You didn’t give up on me, thanks. I’m won’t either."

Wave couldn’t help but laugh. A sad laugh that mixed with her snort and became a grotesque sound somewhere in between.

"Master Aki?"

Lambert jerked his gun up, this time with both hands.

"Master Aki, you’re still alive?"

The voice came from the wall to the room she had just peered into. Lambert’s drone illuminated it. No, the voice came from the wall. More precisely, from a white grid that was attached to it.

"Get out!" commanded Lambert. "And keep your hands where I can see them."

"Yes, I’m coming. Just don’t shoot me, please," it came from the ventilation duct that must have been behind it. Then there was a crash and the grid sailed across the room. One foot, gleaming metallic in the light of the drone, reached out cautiously for the floor, followed by a second. Then a white and silver robot pushed its way out of the vent. Slightly larger than Wave and with human facial features. This was one of Akimoto’s models, which, unlike Kanter, made a point of making the robots look more human and able to blend in with the city’s largely human population. A curry sausage vendor who didn’t look like a lawnmower was more likely to sell you a second sausage the next day.

As he stood there in his full size and with his hands raised, Wave wondered how he had fit into this vent. The robot looked around.

"But you are not Master Aki."

"FR3UD, is that you?" asked Aki.

The robot stood on its tiptoes, stuck its head up in the air, and tried to see if anyone else was behind Wave and Lambert. "It’s me, but where are you?"

"I’m kind of stuck in the hearing aid of the young lady standing in front of you."

"You know the robot?" Wave asked.

"Yeah," Aki answered.

Lambert lowered his gun.

"He is the one who killed me."

Lambert raised the gun again.

"Just keep the gun down, Sergeant Lambert," Aki said. "It was at my own request. I remember now. They were already at the door, those people from ... Akimoto? There were definitely two of them. They wanted to take me. I don’t know what for, but I had this feeling that it wasn’t for a good reason. On the contrary, it felt so bad that I ordered my assistant FR3UD to push me out the window along with my desk. I would have rather died than fall into their hands."

"But you are still alive, Master Aki. I hear your voice."

"As I said, I’m speaking from a hearing aid with a speaker adapter attached. I am trapped inside it."

"Are you sure, Master Aki, that you have not simply linked yourself to the hearing aid? Like you did with the transmitter’s recording device?"

"Did I?", Aki sounded confused.

"You did every time before you went on air. Then you sat back in your chair and hosted."

"Yes ... yes, that device was in the desk. That must be the answer! If it broke when I fell and my voice generator wanted to reconnect ..."

"... then I was standing in exactly the right place with my hearing aid," Wave finished the sentence. "Then Aki is still alive?"

"This connection is established via the Citadel network?" asked Lambert.

"Yes, he could transmit from anywhere. When he was sick that one time, he even did it from home."

Lambert looked determined. In the light of the drone, Wave once again thought she saw that fire in his eyes she’d noticed before. "I’ll put out an APB on his bio-chip," he said, disappearing into the hallway.