#alr sketched something on the train

[chip-foster]

questions  //  self

Avoxes were not to be treated specially. Anyone who had an Avox living with them full-time was registered with the Capitol, and there were occasional checks to ensure “proper” living conditions. Avoxes were not to have their own phones, their own lives. It was all meant to be service.

For this reason, there were several failsafes in Chip’s home for Paslee. When someone rung the doorbell, the closet in her attached studio apartment immediately turned to show only an empty closet. It was up to Paslee to keep the place clean and cleared enough that it appeared no one was living there. A few of the light-switches in the apartment were also wired to the closet’s mechanics, so they would shift it if someone pressed onto the light-switch as they turned it on. Her cell phone was registered in his name, and had the same scrambling software as his. There were two passcodes: one for Paslee to get in, and one to tell authorities that would wipe every call, text, and picture so it appeared to be a blank, extra phone. 

Chip was playing a video game on the couch while Evie played with her tablet, probably sketching something. Paslee was in her apartment. 

The doorbell rang, and they all froze. Chip wasn’t expecting anyone at that time. He was tense after the day, after what he’d witnessed, and his voice was tight as he spoke to Evie. “Go to your room,” he instructed. He hated to see her uncertainty bordering on fear as she slipped off the couch to go to her room.

He was in sweatpants and a t-shirt when he answered the door, as informal as the hour suggested. He was met with a couple men in suits, who looked bulky enough to have once filled out a Peacekeeper’s uniform. He knew the type. They’ve been through his home a couple times after his renovations. Just checking in.

“Good evening, Victor Foster, we were just checking in,” one said. Didn’t matter who spoke, they both looked the same to Chip. 

“I-It’s late.”

“It’s been a busy day.”

“M-My niece is getting r-ready for bed.”

“We won’t disturb Evelyn.” 

Chip wished he was stronger, so it’d hurt when he punched them both in the face for daring to speak his niece’s name. They started to poke around his living room and kitchen, lifting cushions and opening cupboard. He paced between them, until one pushed back the beaded curtain of one of his hallways. He followed after them, and saw Paslee diligently standing with her eyes turned down outside Evie’s bathroom. Inside, Evie was brushing her teeth. The inspector walked right by it all as if it was nothing, and pushed open the door at the end of the hall.

“Have you had guests lately?”

“El-electr-tra Cond-Tyr stopped on her way to Thr-Three.”

“Why?”

“I-It’s a long tr-train r-ride.”

“Hmph.”

Chip watched the inspector open every cupboard and drawer, overturn every pillow. The place was spotless, with an empty closet. His heart was beating fast he frequently looked back to see what was happening up the hallway. Evie washed her face, with Paslee holding out a towel for her. Evie went to her room, with Paslee following after. Evie asked Paslee to tidy her room, which the Avox did as Evie undoubtedly started to flip through a picture book. At that point, he could only hear the noises, not see anything.

When the inspector seemed satisfied, he took quick strides out of the room and Chip followed after him. It was a straight shot, from the studio to the study where there was a daybed pushed against one of the walls.

“The Avox sleeps here?”

“Y-Yes.”

“And she doesn’t disturb you?”

The question threw him, as it was a new one. “N-No, I’m usually in my r-room. Sh-She’s, uh, alr-ready working when I come here in th-the day.”

There were a few minutes of more investigation, as the inspectors looked in a backpack by the desk and then through the desk drawers. Nothing that would concern an Avox.

“Thank you,” the inspector said curtly. Chip felt like a hopeless puppy following him back into the living room. “Given recent incidents, we’re checking in on Avox employers throughout the city.”

Chip remained quiet, unsure what to say in response as he watched the second inspector open the freezer. 

“And given your family history...”

“A-Are you done? Evie r-really needs to get to bed.”

"Soon, we just have a few question. Did you know Tara Byte?”

“H-Her br-brother sold me weed.” 

“Any other connection?”

“No.”

“Are you aware of the Black Eagles organization?”

Who wasn’t now? It was safe to answer. “N-Now I am.”

“Have you had any interaction with a member of the Black Eagles organization?”

It was a test. Just like a test in school, he had to stay focused. He flicked his eyes over to look at the other inspector now opening a box a cookies. “N-Not th-that I know. Dude, are th-those yours?”

“Victor Foster, are you saying you know no one affiliated with this destructive group?”

"No.”

Chip watched him carefully, sure there were more questions coming, but it all ended as abruptly as it started. Soon, his door was closing behind them as an opened box of cookies lied on his kitchen counter. He threw them out, brough the trash out, and spent the entire night tearing his apartment apart to look for recording devices.