Her destination, the Union Care Center, was a building designed in the style of Gothic Revival architecture. Echika couldn’t help but stare at it, but that soon prompted ads to flash into life on the outer walls. Her Your Forma automatically read their data matrices, instantly opening the products’ purchase pages in her browser.
Ugh, stop that.
Needlessly exhausted, she arrived at the center’s lobby with the driver Amicus in tow. The lobby was full of haggard outpatients, and none of them looked like the kind of person who might work as an electronic investigator aide. Echika exhaled hard. Her partners being late wasn’t anything new.
“Maybe I should tell you about him anyway,” the Amicus started again. “Your aide’s name is Harold Lucraft, and he recently transferred to your department from the city police. He has blond hair and is about 175 meters tall.”
“I said it’s fine. I’ll just check his personal data when I see him—”
But as Echika turned to the Amicus to complain, she got her first good look at him, then froze up in amazement. She didn’t care much for him because he was a machine, but his features were incredibly handsome.
His age had been set to his mid to late twenties. He had blond hair held in place with wax, and he had uniform brows and gentle eyelashes. The bridge of his nose was perfectly straight, and his lips were thick in just the right way. The back of his hair stood up a little, and he had a faint mole on his right cheek, granting him a very human appearance.
From top to bottom, he looked like a work of art that a craftsperson had put their heart and soul into. He clearly wasn’t a mass-produced model but a customized one that cost a great deal of money.
“As for Lucraft’s attire, today, he’s wearing a tartan scarf and a melton coat.”
Echika couldn’t even blink anymore because the Amicus in front of her was wearing exactly that. Even his coat, with its mundane design, somehow accentuated his slender, well-proportioned physique.
“No way…,” she uttered, her mouth feeling awfully dry all of a sudden. “You’re joking, right?”
He smiled serenely—a smile so sophisticated, it almost gave her heartburn.
“My apologies for not introducing myself sooner. I’m Harold Lucraft,” the Amicus—Harold—said, extending his hand for a shake.
Hold on. No. Stop messing with me.
“That can’t be. I’ve never heard of Amicus working as electronic investigator aides. You just do the chores—”
“True, Amicus in investigative organizations usually manage evidence-storage rooms and security. Humans and analysis automatons handle the investigations themselves. My title isn’t official, either.”
Since their productivity didn’t match that of industrial robots, Amicus were usually charged with routine tasks. As AGI—Artificial General Intelligence—they stressed human appearance over efficiency. Back when AGI was still a theoretical concept, scholars dreaded the possibility of them becoming a hyper intelligence that could overshadow humankind. But once they actually came to be, they didn’t amount to anything more than “clever but obedient robots” that served as reliable partners to humankind.
The Amicus traced their origins to the height of the pandemic. They were developed by the England-based Novae Robotics Inc. as a humanoid machine. Much like the Your Forma, the fields of robotics and AI research had made great strides during that time. With risk of infection discouraging physical contact between people, investments were made into robots that could work in their place.
And so the English government sunk vast funds into Novae Robotics Inc.’s research, allowing them to make their humanoid machines a reality. The first androids were supplied only to medical institutes. Though they were the spitting image of humans, they were also incredibly expensive.
Not only did the robots perform their assignment well, but they also behaved the way people sought; they comforted, encouraged, and sympathized with them, caring and relieving the stress of both the patients suffering from the virus and their healthcare providers.
The machines were later rebranded and put on sale as Amicus, and they soon spread throughout society, both in home and business environments. It only made sense that at present, clashes between the Amicus sympathizers and the luddites were creating frequent problems in society.
Yet as “human” as the Amicus were, and despite how flexible and capable of adapting to different situations they could be, they were jacks-of-all-trades, masters of none. Their depth of understanding of any specific field was shallower than industrial robots.
That was why analysis ants were preferred over Amicus when it came to specialized tasks like criminal investigations. And yet the Amicus gazing at her had nevertheless introduced himself as her new assistant.
“If you really are my aide, then why didn’t you tell me you were when we met?”
“Oh.” Harold retracted his hand in a carefree manner. “My apologies. It’s just that I wanted to observe what kind of person you are… Did you happen to watch a movie on your flight?”
“Huh?” She had. “So what if I did?”
“It was The Third Cellar, correct?”
Echika blinked a few times. He was dead-on, but how did he know that?
“No way. Who told you?”
“Oh, no one told me. I assumed you were taking an Étoile France flight. And if you check their home page, The Third Cellar is highlighted as one of their recommended in-flight pictures.”
“…And?”
“If you’re someone who isn’t particular about their tastes, you’d likely pick the recommended title. And given your profession, only a very thrilling story would draw you in. Your eyes are congested on account of you blinking less, and your lips are dry because you lick them more when you’re frightened. Meaning the movie was likely a psychological-horror thriller, and the only recommended movie of that genre in their catalog was The Third Cellar.”
“What the hell are you…?” Echika muttered, taken aback.
“Which makes me think that you’re something of an indifferent person, aren’t you, Investigator? I’m picking up the scent of an electronic cigarette’s flavor on you, too. And if I may be so bold, a very cheap flavor, at that. That makes me think you don’t have any preferences when it comes to smoking, either—you only do it to distract yourself. People like you don’t usually have any interest in their daily lives. You care little for fashion or romance, and you’re married to your job.”
She was speechless. And as Echika stared at him, stunned, Harold regarded her with a satisfied smirk.
“It’s basic human observation. I think that demonstrates my aptitude as an investigator, don’t you?”
This isn’t funny—what is this thing?
Amicus knew how to read people’s emotions so they could communicate effectively, but this level of accuracy was abnormal. Just what was going on?
“Investigator Hieda,” Harold whispered, his lips curled into a soft smile that left no room for argument, “I will do my utmost to be a suitable partner until we solve this case.”
Give me a break.
An Amicus investigator aide? With skills so honed, they could violate her privacy?