Lena’s screen flashed. A red dot. Priority One.
A long pause. For the first time, the AI’s voice lost its sterile edge. Police Force-FASiSO -PC-
Voss froze. His head whipped toward her. In the glare of the patrol car’s light bar, his face was a mask of terror, not malice. His hands shot up—empty. Lena’s screen flashed
“Elias Voss,” Lena read aloud. “Petty theft, two priors. FASiSO says he’s about to hit the 24-hour mart on 8th and Main.” A long pause
Subject displaying pre-assault indicators. Weapon prediction: knife, 82% confidence. Neural sync authorized. You are cleared to draw your sidearm, Officer Cross.
Marcus snorted. “It’s learning.”
Lena holstered her gun. She walked over to Voss, who had started to cry. “It’s okay,” she said, helping him pick up the milk. “We got a bad tip. Go home to your kid.”