For a nonlethal weapon, the Glock Taser was still pretty nasty, and I knew from experience it hurt like hell. Neil plopped onto his face, unable to break his fall with his hands because his entire skeletomuscular system locked up. He flopped around on the floor for a bit, and I hit the remote control on my utility belt, shutting off the juice. Then I removed a supplication collar from its case and locked the thin strip of adonized plastic around his neck.
“Fuct…” Neil moaned into the carpeting.
I holstered my roscoe and took the EPF activator—a silver sphere no bigger than a hypergolf ball—and placed it next to the front door, setting the distance at two meters.
With Neil taken care of, I went back to the kitchen and stared at the TEV monitor, my face staring back at me. Tachyon emission visualization technology was foolproof. It couldn’t be compromised. It couldn’t be faked. The TEV was better than any eyewitness, because it showed the truth without perception or bias getting in the way.
But this wasn’t the truth. At the time of the murder, I was home with Vicki. I had an alibi.
Of course, the famous court case of the State of Illinois v. Joseph Andrew Konrath showed that alibis meant nothing against TEV evidence.
I picked up the unit and hit rewind, keeping the lens on the killer. I watched the murder in reverse, and then saw him sneak away from Aunt Zelda, walking backward. I followed him, through the hallway, to the apartment door.
Outside the door, I watched him use a smart magnet on the lock. Smart magnets were used by locksmiths, when electronic entry failed due to mechanical error. Prior to the invention of timecasting technology, burglars used them to gain entrance to homes. But B and E was a thing of the past, because all a timecaster had to do was follow the thief all the way home, either forward or in reverse. Which was what I planned on doing with my double.
He led me to the elevator. But right before he stepped out, the monitor flickered.
And he disappeared.
I pressed fast-forward and watched it again.
One millisecond he was there. The next he wasn’t.
I tuned in to the exact frame of his vanishing act, trying to spot where Alter-Talon went. Alter-Talon didn’t go anywhere. He completely dematerialized. Which was, of course, impossible. The only difference between the before and after frames was the hallway lighting. Before he disappeared, it was slightly bluer. When he appeared, the light became a bit oranger.
“Fuct!” Neil screamed, high-pitched and decidedly un-macho.
I glanced over at Aunt Zelda’s open door, then walked back inside her apartment.
Neil was on his ass, eyes bugging out, both hands gripping the supplication collar. His whole body shook. I grabbed his shirt and dragged him away from the door, back into the hallway.
“I put an electronic perimeter fence by the door. If you get within two meters, it shocks you. But you apparently figured that out.”
Neil was gasping like he’d been underwater. “You…killed her.”
“I didn’t kill her.”
His eyes welled up. “Please let me go.”
“Sorry. I can’t do that just yet. If you go running to the Peace Department, they’ll put me away before I have a chance to figure out what’s going on. So you’ll have to stay put for a while.”
Neil pouted, and a trembling hand reached up for his earlobe.
“It also jams your headphone. And if you try to cut it off, it explodes, blowing a hole in your neck.”
The last part was a lie, but I wasn’t too concerned with Neil getting the collar off. It was reinforced with carbon nanotube fibers. They were the strongest things on the planet, and were used to tether space elevators to earth. Unless Aunt Zelda had a diamond bit drill, the supplication collar would stay on until I took it off.
Then I went back to the TEV. Instead of reverse, I let the past move forward. The murder was just as horrible the second time. Even more so, because I zoomed in on the killer’s face as he snapped her neck, and the SMF was smiling.
It got worse. After her death, the alter-me pulled something out of a sheath on his belt. From my viewing angle, it appeared to be nothing more than an empty handle. But I knew what it was.
A Nife.
The Nife, or nanoknife, was yet another miracle courtesy of carbon nanotubes. It had a tensile strength sixty times greater than diamonds. From the side, it looked like a military KA-BAR knife. But the Nife was invisible while looking at it edge-on because it was incredibly thin—1/10,000th the width of a human hair. This also made it incredibly sharp, and equally dangerous. Only the mentally compromised carried Nifes. It was too easy to cut off your own leg sheathing it, and you wouldn’t even know until you tried to take a step and your leg stayed behind.