AfterNet 01 - Good Cop Dead Cop

don’t suppose there are any recordings of your voice anywhere?”
    “Huh?”
    “Never mind. I’m doing fine as long as I keep downing ibuprofen, don’t move and don’t sneeze. Or laugh.”
    “Ready to come back to work?”
    “Hah! Next question.” She was lying on her living room couch, a blanket tossed over her, a hot cup of green tea nearby. The TV was muted and she had a Jane Austen novel spread out on her lap.
    “So, we’re not moving to SWAT.”
    “Really? Ow! Sorry, don’t spring something like that on a fragile woman. We’re not?”
    “You’re going to be out of commission for a couple of months. So the chief decided we just keep doing what we’re doing.”
    “That’s great.”
    “Yeah. Look I’m going back to work. I’ve got a lot more statements to process. Just wanted to update you.”
    “Thanks, Alex.” They said their goodbyes.
    She got up from the couch and went back to the kitchen to see if there was something to eat. Maybe Mary can pick up some groceries for me. Food I can eat with one hand. She decided that a bag of chocolate chips would do. It’s not like I’ll be baking cookies any time soon. These could go bad.
    The doorbell rang and she went to answer it. She opened the door and saw a truck pull away. She looked down and found a large vase of flowers on her doorstep. She bent down to pick up the vase but almost dropped it. “Yow!” she cried when her shoulder twinged. She tried again, this time bending her knees completely before picking it up. She carried it into her house and put it on the nearest surface.
    It was a pretty arrangement but she didn’t appreciate the pain she’d gone through to get it inside. She found an envelope and awkwardly removed the card with her left hand.
    “Hope this makes you feel better. Maybe I could stop by? Do you need anything?” It was signed “Bob F.”
    Wow, how nice, she thought. Maybe he can bring me groceries.
    — & —
    Edwards caught the arm of the man moving the black sphere. “Move it gently,” he said in clipped tones. “Move it slowly. Don’t bump it or you’ll find yourself cleaning the toilets.”
    “Edwards!” a voice behind him said sharply after the man continued his work, placing the sphere on the trailer attached to the electric cart.
    Edwards spun around and found himself staring at Rybold.
    “What is … oh, hello, sir.”
    “Stop threatening people,” Rybold told him. He caught Edwards arm and pulled him aside. In a quieter tone, he said, “You manage people better by encouraging their good behavior instead of rubbing their noses in the bad. And a disgruntled employee is the last thing we need.”
    “Yes, sir, I’ll go apologize,” Edwards said nervously.
    Rybold clapped his arm around Edwards shoulders. “You don’t need to do that either, Stephen. Later on, just say something nice to him. Come on, let’s go up to your office.”
    Rybold led the way up the stairs to Edward’s office. He entered and stood against the window overlooking the warehouse full of black spheres. Edwards followed behind and sat on a visitor’s chair, not behind his desk. He immediately started tapping a foot. “You’re awfully jumpy, Stephen.”
    “Yes, I … it’s this business with the police.”
    “Nothing to worry about.” He said to Edwards. “I already told you. It all worked out in our favor. Any disappearances from now on will be blamed on these religious groups.” He turned back to the window and continued watching the admonished worker loading the spheres. He winced as he saw the worker drop one of the spheres onto the trailer.
    “Ouch,” Humphries said silently to Rybold.
    “You’re right,” Rybold told his avatar. “Get his name later and we’ll have Edwards move him to another job.”
    “Edwards is the bigger problem,” Humphries said.
    “Yes, Stephen is becoming stressed. I think he has problems at home. It’s time I did something about it.”
    Rybold, still watching the clumsy worker, said over his shoulder to Edwards, “Stephen. I really think you and your wife … Elizabeth … should spend some time together. You like to snowshoe, I think. Why don’t the two of you go to the Aspen retreat for a week. On me.”
    “I’d really like to stay and supervise the new facility,” Edwards said. He got up from his chair and stood next to Rybold. “There are another 50 units scheduled for initial assessment and we’ve got to get these processed units out of here.”
    “I appreciate