Another Tuesday.

  Curtis, still shaking off the soreness from not enough sleep, headed to the food stand for his breakfast chili dog. Emerging from his apartment lobby, he was greeted by the usual mixture of digital signs on city walls and junk cluttering the street.

  The city was waking as well, mostly ahead of him. Robots busily cleaned off tables and swept the walkways outside shops and restaurants from the night before. The sun wasn’t fully up yet. It was gray, overcast, and cool. Some mist from the sewers lounged lazily like the people on the street who had little to do.

  Curtis passed a chili dog stand—the wrong chili dog stand—metal utensils busy, and a sizzling sound from the cooking underway. The utensils belonged to a robot cook preparing for the morning crowd.

  A few yards past, Curtis found his chili dog stand, one staffed with a human.

  “Morning, Mitch,” Curtis said.

  “The usual, boss?”

  “Every day,” said Curtis.

  Mitch charged a little more than the bot vendors, but it was worth it. Curtis thought bot-prepared food tasted… flat… even when it was spicy.

  A man was leaning casually against the side of the small food truck, slim, wearing a long, thin charcoal faux-leather jacket down to his calves.

  “You gonna trust food made by a human?” he asked.

  “Sure am,” Curtis said as he took a napkin. “I’ve been eating here for a long time, isn’t that right, Mitch?”

  “Well… since September,” Mitch said as he put chili on the dog.

  The slim man continued, “You’re too good to eat common man’s food with your big job.”

  “What’s left of it does have its perks,” Curtis said. The man knew Curtis was employed; if he knew he was a cop, though, he wouldn’t be trying to antagonize him. As Curtis reached to accept the chili dog from Mitch, he made sure to extend his reach in such a way that exposed his gun harness and badge under his jacket.

  “Yeah,” the slim man said, “big man with a badge and a gun.”

  Mitch held out his phone to Curtis, who was about to meet it with his phone to pay, when the slim man suddenly jumped up, swiped Mitch’s phone, and bounded away down an alley.

  “Hey!” Mitch yelped. Curtis reacted and started sprinting after the man.

  The chili dog, still in his hand, squished into a mess, Curtis having lost track of it holding his eyes focused on the thief.

  The man was spry and moved with sharp dashes around the tables and chairs set up in front of stores and apartments.

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  At an intersection of alleys, the man dashed left, making a quick turn.

  This threw off Curtis’s balance, and as he spun, he crashed into a shelf of goods set up for sale at the corner. “Sorry,” Curtis said. “Police…” but he didn’t have the time—or the air in his lungs—needed to explain the accident as he maneuvered to avoid losing sight of the man.

  Suddenly the alley opened up broadly to a small square surrounded on all sides by buildings… a dead end.

  Curtis saw the man standing, hardly winded, facing him.

  Curtis slowed to a halt and reached for his pistol.

  “I wouldn’t do that, officer.”

  Curtis looked around and saw two other men, one on each side, both armed.

  Curtis lowered his hand slowly and said, “Look, whatever it is you’re getting from this isn’t worth it.”

  Curtis saw another man standing next to the slim man he’d chased. He handed the slim man a pair of VR glasses.

  The slim man put them on, looked at Curtis and made a motion with his finger like he was pushing a button, some console he saw in VR probably. He said, “That’s all you’re worth?”

  He then dropped Mitch’s phone, turned, and sprinted backward. The two armed men to Curtis’s right and left also scrambled away.

  Curtis walked up to the phone, crouched down, and picked it up. It had a few dents in its crash case, but the screen wasn’t even cracked. “Well, I’m worth a phone to Mitch.”

  He put the phone in his pocket and headed back the way he came.

  As he approached the shop he had crashed into earlier, an Asian man approached him, shouting, “You broke my shop!”

  “I’m sorry,” Curtis said. “I was chasing a suspect.” He pulled out his badge.

  The man said, “You broke shop; you pay.”

  “Look, I’ll give you my information, and you can take it up with the Hilburn Police Department.”

  The man said, “You pay! I sue.”

  The man stared at Curtis angrily, and then moved his head up and down Curtis almost like he was nodding, but Curtis knew he wasn’t nodding; he was scanning him. Then he raised his hands and his fingers went wild, swiping and tapping at the air. He was doing something in augmented reality using his Virtual Reality glasses.

  Almost immediately, Curtis’s phone chirped.

  “Oh, Jesus…”

  Curtis looked at his phone. He got a message: Electronic summons, obviously as a result of the Asian man in front of him.

  He opened the message.

  It said, “You have been summoned to appear digitally before the Overton District 14 Court… Press 1 to appear now. Press 2 for legal representation.”

  Curtis looked up from the summons to look the Asian man in the face, gesturing with his hands out and palms up, “Come on, man. I was chasing a suspect.”

  Curtis’s phone chirped again. He looked down from the Asian man. His phone now said, “Early-bird discount. Get 50% off penalties if you appear now.”

  Curtis pressed “2” for representation. A menu popped up saying, “$5,000 for Tier 1 representation, 89% chance of victory.” Then there was an option for “$3,000 for Tier 2 representation with 71% chance of victory,” and “No representation with 65% chance of victory.” At the bottom it said, in bold letters, “SETTLEMENT DAMAGES $4,000–$10,000.” There was a five-minute countdown running: “Early-bird special, 50% off penalties if you appear digitally in the next five minutes.”

  Curtis clicked, “No representation.” I’m not gonna pay some bot for do’n my damn job—I’ll defend myself, thank you. He clicked, “Appear now.”

  Curtis got a message: “The claimant’s AI attorney is conferring with the AI judge.”

  A moment later, Curtis’s phone chirped again. “Unfortunately, the judge has determined that you are at fault for damages in the amount of $8,000.” It then went on to say, “However, since you arrived in court so promptly, you received 50% off and owe only $4,000! A 30% surcharge will be added to your future purchases.”

  The Asian man looked up at something and then shouted in glee, “You pay!”

  “How much did you pay for your lawyer?” Curtis asked.

  The man shrugged. “three-thousand, five-hundred.”

  The only winner, Curtis thought, was the owner of the lawyer-bot, who was probably at home having breakfast right now.

  “You pay!” the man said again, still gleeful in his victory rage as he went back inside.

  Curtis headed back to return Mitch’s phone… free of charge. He’d have coffee at the station for breakfast—the city had its cut.