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*Liar

“Name?” the slick machine voice asks.

“Vega,” I reply.

“Full name?” the robot asks. I’m sure the operators behind the robot might be a little ticked off now, but what I’ll say in a moment is worth their time in my opinion.

“Vega Thorne.”

“Of?” the robot prompts.

I sigh quietly. “The Thorne-Caj dynasty,” I say reluctantly. I have a habit of hiding my heritage. The scandal that occurred just two years ago definitely was a slap across my family’s name, sinking it even lower into the society mud.

“What do you want to report?”

The robot’s voice is so dull and monotone that I want to smack it. But it wouldn’t achieve anything, except probation probably, with my record. Which is pretty much nonexistent. Don’t worry, I’m not a goody two shoes, I get in plenty of trouble. Having a lot of contacts is a good way to get through life, especially if one of them is a hacker.

I swallow nervously. “I have information that I can contribute to the murder of Alija Samon.” In my mind, I can see the operators lean forward, thoroughly interested now.

“The murder that took place last week Friday, at 8:38 PM at the corner of Senior Road and Castle Place?” the machine asks, clarifying.

“Yes,” I reply.

“Continue.”

I close my eyes for a second, remembering the scene. “I was in the same building as the shooter. In fact, the same floor. I was walking to a friend’s apartment when a man with brown hair dressed in blue jeans with a white shirt on and a red hoody on over. He was carrying a case, I only recognized it from a show I saw on the Net Screen before. It’s one of those cases for sniper guns.”

“Why didn’t you report this before?”

I suck in some of the stale air. “I was scared.”

“Thank you. You can leave now.”

I stand up from the cold metal chair and walk out of the room, and leave the government building into the busy, colorful, crowded street. Without looking back, I get lost in the mass of people. Oh, lying is fun.



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