Two lanes was clearly not enough for the size of this city. There's at least five in each direction.
Multiple roads line up floating one above the other, at least three in every street. When the five lanes were not enough, they had no other choice than to stack them.
The floating roads are nothing but signs, projected lights to indicate where to drive.
Those roads are not solid. Yet, not all cars had magnetic levitation. And not all levitating cars were the same.
The more money it costed the higher it could levitate. Society yet again managing to separate itself.
The ground-level road was the most clustered one. As always, poor people being the broadest group.
Driving through is fairly slow, cars stop all the time. People driving through that level are already used to it.
Only the poorest and the stubborn nostalgic detectives with an old car use those roads. Most people save money for years just to be able to use the second layer.
The second layer is faster, still somewhat crowded, but way less than the lowest one. It is a snail compared with the third layer, though.
The third layer gives the illusion of just being empty. Cars pass by above 125 miles per hour, so not many are driving through if you look.
All the cars able to levitate that high are also advanced enough to be drived by themselves. There is no risk of accident because the AIs are flawless.
The ground-level road isn't the same. That girl is the proof.
This city is annoyingly quiet. The only sound I can hear is that of steps. No one speaks.
I see a couple right in front of me. You'd expect them to be speaking... No. They're just holding hands and looking to the horizon.
The sound of cars is nonexistent, all of them are electric and silent. Mine isn't neither of those two, but I left it parked about 10 minutes ago.
Steps, that's the only thing I can hear. Many steps, those of the hundreds of 'zombies' walking through the streets.
Zombies, that's what they seem. 40 years ago people walked through the streets with their head tilted downwards, looking at their phone
Now, most people have a good posture. They look right in front of them. Their postures are different, but all the same.
They all look forward. But they also don't react to anything. Some asshole bumped onto me earlier and he didn't even notice.
Some guy screamed out of nowhere and no one even bothered to turn around to look at him except for me.
It's like I'm waking in a sea of ignorance, robots walking from point A to point B without acting.
"Would they even react if someone was killed under their noses?" I mutter to myself.
Cosmic fucking irony, as I turn a corner, I smell it. That awful metallic scent, Blood. I can almost taste it. Disgusting
But exciting. This is my life.
The scene of a crime, my case.
Two police officers stand in front of a locked off zone. Instead of tape they have floating neon lights 'POLICE INVESTIGATION - DO NOT TRESPASS'
That futuristic tape seems to make everything behind it dark, so the whole pavement is inside a opaque cube.
I approach them and they immediately shut their mouths. 'Oh no, he's gonna hear about our conversation on our favourite type of donut' I thought to myself
One of them was tall, short messy black hair and green eyes. Dark skin, broad shoulders that took as much space as they could. He doesn't seem to go the gym, the gym goes to him
Intimidating would be a valid description as well, but I've been working long enough as to know he's all bark and no bite.
His face has that mix of tired and rough, with a scar on his eyebrow. However, all that façade is broken by the fact his eyes scream he wouldn't hurt a fly.
Next to him stands a shorter guy, probably latin-american roots. He has bright red pupils, sharper than the other guy's, which hints to sight enhancing modifications.
His hair is longer than his 'buddy', blonde with some black bangs actually. I'd bet my right hand on it not being natural.
His posture is almost perfect, just a little bit forced. Even though he's way skinner than the other guy he makes up by seeming smart.
I bet he has some sort of computer plugged up his as-... Hm.
Inside his brain. To do all the computering work on the spot, all of that complicated shit.
I'm not a tech guy, I'm a detective. I gather clues and read people. He searches the web while his brain is connected to the internet.
The taller guy glances over to his buddy, who looks back at him. Their faces are incredibly easy to read.
They're thinking I'm a weirdo. After all I'm wearing an outfit you'd see in an old detective movie. I like the vibe.
I adjust my hat as the shorter lad nods to the other one. Probably 'go tell him to fuck off'. Well, maybe not that aggressive.
The taller guy speaks, his plate reads Marcus Smith. His voice is loud enough, as low as I expected it to be.
"Sir, I'm sorry, you cannot pass"
"Oh but I can"
The smaller guy quickly inserts himself into our conversation. I expected him not to be the kind to have a loose tongue.
"No, you can't. This is a crime scene, you have no business here"
"Javier!" Marcus exclaims.
I simply chuckle at them.
"What's so funny?" Javier said, who probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.
"Oh, nothing. Just that this is my business" — I say pointing at the crime scene behind them.
They look at eachother, wondering if they really heard the same thing. I should probably prove and say I'm a private detective.
It's just that it is fun to see them confused trying to figure out who I am. I thought it was obvious by my clothes. Apparently it isn't.
"Okay, sir." — Marcus approached me slowly, placing a hand on my shoulder — "where are your meds? Left or right pocket? Your family is probably waiting for you at home or worried"
Okay. That is enough. What the fuck does he mean 'meds'? I'm not an old wheezer, I'm not even 60 yet. I push his hand off my shoulder.
It takes him by surprise, and I find no resistance from his hand. I stare him.
He takes two steps back. Knew it, all bark no bite. I sigh and put my hands on my pocket. Javier lunges forward.
"Javier!" Marcus calls
What the fuck? I sidestep him, he tries to grab me but misses, barely grasping my coat with the tip of his fingers.
Marcus is about to charge for me when he sees what I pulled out of my pocket. A card, my business card.
Javier was going to attempt lunging at me a second time, but he stopped after he saw he was wrong.
Probably expected a fucking gun, as if I was some kind of psychopath. I don't remember seeing a killer on the mirror this morning back home.
"Private detective Raymond Nithercott, I'm here to investigate a crime. So, will we stop playing games?"
Marcus extends his hand asking for me to give him my card. Basic procedure. He seems to be somewhat disappointed. At Javier, I assumed.
I look behind me, Javier is sitting on the pavement now. I sigh. An Idiot clerk who lunges at a detective then now sits there with the tail between his legs looking embarrassed.
Marcus gives me back my card, and tells Javier to stand up. I speak again, I need to know what this crime is all about.
"What happened here?"
Marcus speaks first, giving the basic information.
"Suicide, she walked onto the road"
"Murder" — I correct him, before inquiring — "aren't ground-level lanes slow traffic?"
"Suicide" — Marcus repeats, then answers my question — "Most of them, this is a residential area so the traffic isn't too congested. The thing is that people will speed up if they are given space"
I pause for a moment and look around, all the clues must be behind the tapes because I cannot see any trace of the crime visible.
Only that disgusting scent of blood. I ask another question to Marcus while Javier finally stands up and starts approaching his 'buddy'.
"Any witnesses?"
Marcus looks at me dumbfounded, as if I had just spoken Chinese. Javier chuckles, I shoot him a glare and he raises his arms laughing nervously.
"Witnesses are a thing of the past, man. The girl walked into the road, a car hit her and she was..."
"Pancaked, go on" I finish his sentence
He makes a face of disgust, but I knew what I said was correct
"Killed." — he tries to correct me — "Her lump body was sent back across the street before she hit a wall, slid down and was impaled by a pole"
"Everyone around ignored the scene... people nowadays are too busy focusing on their digital screens" Marcus says
"Digital screens?" I ask, interrupting him
"Yeah, they're like phones but directly overlap with your senses. No one can see or hear what you're seeing."
I see. Same addiction, just different source. That is why people seem zombies walking by, I came to that conclusion.
"What about the car that hit her?" I asked Marcus
"Gone"
"So no witnesses and no car, what about security cams, drones, any machine that recorded the crime?"
"Yes, I am currently downloading the information to my database"
Javier says pointing to something that looked like a USB, it was plugged into the side of his neck. Not his...
I clear my throat.
"Hm... Who was the victim?"
"Elissa Openheimer" Marcus replies to my question
"Excuse me?"
Fucking oppenwho?
"She is- was the daughter of Charles Oppenheimer, leader of the Oppenheimer Project, an organization funded to promote international cooperation and responsible use of science"
I nod. I already knew all that shit about Project Oppenheimer, everybody knew about it.
It was funded by Charles Oppenheimer, grandson of Robert Oppenheimer, who kept the names of his daughters a secret.
When Charles died in 2045 at the age of 75 her daughter Mary Oppenheimer took over the Project.
However, the second daughter never revealed herself.
"So Bambi Oppenheimer walked down into the road and was ran over by a car? She had money, family..."
Marcus and Javier looked at me like I said something disgusting. I just said exactly what happened.
"I ain't buying that. This ain't suicide."
They looked at me surprised, they were somehow really convinced about it being suicide.
I grinned and took my smoking pipe out of my pocket.
"She was fucking killed"
I lit my pipe
"And I'm dragging that bastard to Hell"
I started smoking