The chief flipped through the report that Nishi had filed. It was nearly illegible, scrawled onto the page like a middle schooler trying to get participation credit. Unfortunately, Nishi was an officer of nearly twenty-five years and his connections with every facet of the system is what kept him there. The backlash to firing a man like Nishi would reflect worse on Suzuki in the long run.

  He had to wait over twenty minutes to see the man, who was not one of the ones that was there early. Then he saw Nishi stumble into the office like it was an inconvenience to be there. The slightly overweight veteran had a five o’clock shadow and an aversion to the lights buzzing overhead. Suzuki watched as Oyama told him to go into the chief’s office and he took his time to get coffee and take another five minutes. Finally, he walked into the office and crashed down onto the chair in front of Suzuki’s desk. The APF chief stared at Nishi for a moment, locked in a staring contest. Nishi’s eyes were only slits, but he maintained contact. Suzuki was the first to break the silence.

  “What’s the name of the rookie in your unit?” he spoke calmly. Nishi shrugged. “His name is Hattori but I knew you wouldn't know. He’s been doing a great job recently. Filing good reports, coming in on time. He even had two arrests last month, some Eastside Eel delinquents in sector 16.”

  “So?” Nishi grumbled.

  “Maybe he’d make a good sergeant someday…” Nishi caught on but didn’t show it in his face.

  “If you’d read my report, you’d see that production is down. There was a lot less on the street in the Sonic Pulse territories. That’s progress.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Not enough progress. For someone of your caliber, I would expect bigger changes than this. Reach out to your men in 21 and do your job. Otherwise, we’ll see what this Hattori has to offer. I’m sure he wouldn’t show up hungover, to start,” Suzuki threatened. He could see Nishi biting his tongue. “Dismissed.” Nishi lumbered out of the office and downed the rest of his coffee. Suzuki made a call to the capitol to schedule his meeting with the vice-president. Feeling cooped up already, he decided to travel with a special unit to sector 15 where they suspected a manufacturing plant converting Neon into Glow. On the way out, his nephew Koji intercepted him.

  “Uncle Chief, can I have that word now?”

  “It’s just Chief. Make it quick.”

  “I’m respectfully asking to be transferred, sir. No one in my department thinks I can do anything. They just say that the only reason I’m here is because you owed my dad a favor.” He stumbled through his words, clearly struggling to make the point he wished.

  “Well, Koji, that’s not too far from the truth,” Suzuki admitted.

  “Either way, I can’t work under Nishi anymore. I hate that guy,” Koji said quietly. For once, they agreed. Suzuki couldn’t move Koji around without causing even more problems. A pencil pusher in Narcotics was a nice and safe place for the kid.

  “Look, I can’t transfer you right now because I’m not in a good place to make a lot of changes. I’ll tell you what you can do: dig around in the capitol and figure out where our budget is going.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “I’ll give you a badge that they won’t question and just find out what is so important that our budget is getting slashed again, ok?” Koji’s face contorted anxiously. He wasn’t looking for busy work in the Circle. “This is very important. I need you to bring something back to me.” Koji did his best to look capable and nodded determinedly.

  “Thanks, uncle,” he said as he jogged away. “Or- I mean- chief!”

  Suzuki rolled his eyes not expecting much from his nephew. He set out into the city to move forward instead of treading water.