Free Superego by Frank J. Fleming Page B

people would be worried about that sort of thing.
    â€œYou’re a hero—I don’t think the prosecutors will want to pursue the infraction of illegal possession of small arms. I need to do my job, though.”
    â€œI understand.” Doing my job is what I’m all about. “If you guys expect some sort of written apology for the firearms possession, it’s not going to happen.” It seemed right to be a little indignant.
    She smiled. “I’m pretty sure we’re going to be more practical than that.” She was pretty—that was for sure—though her clothing was functional and only vaguely feminine. The only thing outwardly threatening was her blue eyes—I could tell they were hard at work assessing me. If I’d had to guess just then—and I often do need to guess about these sorts of things—I would have ventured she had killed in the line of duty or at least been in numerous gunfights.
    Yes, I can sorta tell that from someone’s eyes. I’m not talking “windows to the soul” crap; it’s what they focus on that’s revealing. And hers were carefully looking me over while she kept up a friendly exterior.
    I took another moment to reflect on what someone like “Officer Rico” would be concerned about in a situation like this. It’s a universally accepted truth that people getting killed is tragic (even though it happens all the time), so I figured I’d better show concern about that. “So…uh…how bad was it?”
    â€œSeven dead.” I could see a little fire in her eyes. She cared about others; how cute. “About three times that many were injured.”
    I stared a bit vacantly with my mouth slightly open. It’s supposed to be a “shocked” expression, and I think I pulled it off. I uttered, “Why?” People love that question, but the answer is usually much less enlightening than they would think. People need purpose in their lives, and intense purpose—intense enough to justify killing others—has got to be quite satisfying.
    â€œThey are nuts. I don’t see any reason to analyze it past that. Maybe they’re feeling upstaged by what’s happening on Zaldia and wanted to remind everyone what mindless murderers they are, too.”
    â€œIt hardly compares to Zaldia.” I was really starting to think I should read up more on Zaldia if people kept mentioning it. I just hate reading the news.
    â€œThe Calabrai are never going to be anything more than a nuisance to society at large, but that’s hardly comforting to the families of the dead. Right now we have people trying to find out if this attack was an isolated incident or if we should expect more.”
    I didn’t really have a plan at this point, but I saw something and decided to go with it. “Any leads on that?”
    Her expression turned serious. “I’m not on that case beyond checking in on you.”
    I smiled. “You have an idea of what trees to shake, though?”
    â€œWhat makes you say that?”
    â€œYou’re antsy. You don’t want to be here; you want to be out there chasing this. I’ve been there.”
    She grinned. “No, I don’t want to be here when we could have more attacks coming. I hope you don’t take offense at that, Mr. Vargas.”
    â€œRico, please.”
    â€œIf you don’t find it too offensive, I’m just going to go ahead and report that you don’t appear to be a threat, and we’ll sweep this whole thing under the rug.”
    â€œIf I’m not a threat, can I have my guns back?”
    â€œYou’re not getting your guns back is part of the rug-sweeping, I’m afraid. I wish I could offer you something more to help salvage your vacation; you are a hero.”
    I was interested in seeing if she had more to offer me. I was in a bad situation, and I had two options: Try to escape further police notice, or