Ferguson, with his thinning hair, a crooked nose, and a vipe in his mouth that gave him a sleuth-y look, was staring at the holographic, virtual screen. Seven poker-faced suspects stared back at him.
His assignment was simple. Find the time-travelling disruptor from the line up in the image he was poring over. All suspects sat on a chair each and most had their palms held in front as if holding an invisible begging bowl. One of them had a smile on her face and one sat lounging, his arms hanging by the side. Their ages ranged from mid-twenties to late sixties and there were three females.
“Are these all of the suspects?” he asked.
“That's right, detective.” A robotic voice tried its best to sound human, “These are the seven that I could find. They are an acceptable cross-section of the society although some cultures may be under-represented-”
Ferguson cut his AI assistant’s excruciating verbosity off with a swift wave of hand. AI bots were mandatory in detective work because everything humans did was monitored. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. It was pointless to admonish an AI bot that lacked emotions. Instead, he pulled the vipe from his mouth which sent a whiff of imperceptible diffusion, pointed at the screen, and asked: “And… one of these… is an imposter, yeah?”
“Yes, an imposter is someone who does not belong in a group. Some of them can disrupt modern life by reintroducing old ideas, like reducing dependence on fossil fuel and exposing the ills of processed food. Speaking of ills, I must remind you smoking can severely damage your lungs leading to emphysema–”
“Yeah, I know!” Ferguson snapped. “Just–let me think, okay?”
“Well, to be honest, human memory is error-prone. The function of AI is to supplement your thinking by providing you with banal information you would otherwise forget–”
Ferguson waved again to silence the bot. “Enough! Please give me a quick profile of each of these suspects.” he ordered.
“Sure, detective. The female with the wine-coloured top is of South African descent, has no family here in Australia, and was born after E-volve, the singularity when everything went digital, cash went AWOL, and all analog devices and processes were outlawed-”
“Got it!” Even as the bot was reciting the suspect’s etymology, her image had blown to full-screen. Ferguson moved his head laterally to view it in 3D as if that would provide further clues. Meanwhile, the bot proceeded to the next suspect: “The male with the dark coloured skin is an American, loves to cook, and was born after E-volve.”
Ferguson nodded and pinched his fingers together. As the image zoomed out, he pored over it and wondered when the old guy with the pastel green shirt was born but waited until the bot came around to narrate his key facets.
“The senior male,” the bot revealed, “was born before the E-volve but has undergone voluntary conditioning with an embedded chip. I must add that there have been reports of humans faking the conditioning to be accepted and transitioned to the new post-E-volve society.”
“Uh-huh. Smart guy. Go on.”
One by one, the AI assistant narrated a biographical profile of the seven suspects. Nothing obvious jumped out at Ferguson and he scratched his chin, feeling the coarse stubble for comfort.
“Would you like to know their sexual orientation too?” The AI assistant interrupted his thoughts. “It requires escalated authorisation for security purposes.”
Ferguson smirked. “No but, out of curiosity, what can you tell me about me?”
“You are J. Ferguson. J for Jonah. A private investigator who moved to this town five months ago, smokes raspberry-flavoured vipe–a portmanteau of vape and pipe–and has an illogical phobia of AI bots.”
“Phobia, hah! You got that right, brother…” Ferguson drawled. “Anything else?”
“I cannot go much further into your past. Need authorization from the Head Inspector. Given the late hour now, it can be obtained first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Great! Then, you can check my sexual orientation too.” Ferguson joked but the bot did not react.
Satisfied, Ferguson smiled. “Excellent! I have everything I need about these suspects except their addresses. Please text me those and thanks for your help. That will be all for today.”
After the AI assistant had hibernated, Ferguson let his mind wander over the suspects. His report was due by eleven am next morning but he already knew who the time-traveller was. He was also glad elevated authorization and legal restrictions prevented the bot from going farther into his past. Even though it was the norm, it was creepy knowing a machine knew more about you, than even yourself.
Once he was satisfied with his deduction, he scanned the list of seven addresses on his phone. He then searched for one of them and drove to the location.
“Mr Clifton?” he asked the man who answered the door.
“Yes…”
“May I come in?”
“Are you a cop?”
“No,” Ferguson raised his palms and smiled. “but I know that you come from the early twenty-first century.”
After some hesitation, Clifton led him to the living room.
“And how do you know I’ve travelled here from the past?”
Ferguson smirked. “The formal shoes gave you away, and the clothes, of course. But open arms? Tch. Tch. That's a pre-cellphone stance, isn’t it? Everyone these days is holding a mobile phone all the time. and it showed in the suspects line-up too.”
“Shit! I swear I am just here to check on my girlfriend… to see if she leaves me or cheats on me in the future.”
“That’s very creative of you.” Ferguson laughed, “But don’t worry, Mr Clifton. I’m not here to rat you out. Although, the thought had crossed my mind.”
Clifton sighed with relief, and asked: “So then, why are you here?”
“I was just wondering if you have a spare seat on your return trip. I would like a ride home too.”
Kanwar also likes to shoot and hang things, as in photography and painting. He taps a keyboard and pushes a mouse for his "day job".