If our gods and our hopes are nothing but scientific phenomena,
then it must be said that our love is scientific as well -"L'Eve Future"
Repo 202 to Control, Arrived at target airspace,
Commencing data relay,
Fill me in.
The perp killed the owner 52 minutes ago, at crime scene #1, then took off.
Ambushed and murdered two cops at crime scene #2, an unmapped alley.
All access points are blocked. We storm it in 2 minutes.
That's the cyborg cop from Section 9.
Keep your distance. I hear his bum luck catches like the plague.
E-police want to horn in on us. They're asking for a data link.
First it's Public Safety, now the E-Police.
Decline their request respectfully.
Help me.
We've had eight cases of gynoids murdering their masters,
After each killing, they self-destruct, electronic brains reformatted,
In each case, the model in question is Locus Solus #2052,"Hadaly" type,
A prototype developed for testing,
they were provided free of charge to contractors,
Now, they've recalled all the prototypes,
According to their most recent report,
they've identified no defects in either software or hardware,
You get all that?
Manufacturer's latest gynoids go berserk, attacking their owners,
company panics and recalls every one.
They can expect lawsuits by bereaved families,
inevitable liability trials and mammoth damage awards.
I get it all except why Section 9 is involved.
You get it?
What you call getting it may be just wishful thinking.
Right now, Section 9's involved for two reasons.
First, not one single family has filed a lawsuit.
In every case they've settled with Locus Solus out of court.
Second, the victims included a politician
and a retired Public Safety official.
Because terrorism's a possible motive,
it's our job to consider if it's a matter for Section 9.
Ishikawa and Azuma are getting background on the victims.
You two check out the gynoids.
No questions. Go.
Just for the record, I didn't volunteer for this.
There's no way I'll measure up to the Major.
That's beside the point.
I hear she's still listed as missing.
The Major could only call her brain and her ghost her own.
Although even she doubted whether they were real.
Her brains and hardware were government property
and her entire memory, including the classified information,
were part of the deal.
The top brass only cares about recovering that memory.
Her life is not an issue for them.
So, where do we start?
Locus Solus is located in the northern frontier.
The first step is to check in with local Forensics.
POLICE
You guys...
About the gynoid this guy wasted yesterday...
She cost us two young officers.
Don't tell me you want her back?
That's part of what we've come to determine.
Forensics is up on 19, a right at the end of the hall.
- Need a guide? - No thanks, we'll skip the tour.
"Birds never peck at green persimmons,
they wait until the fruit is ripe. "
Back when you were a detective,
you would've had a choice word or two for guys like us
swooping down to horn in on your case.
That's why it's so irritating. It's like watching my old self.
"It is no use to blame the looking glass if your face is askew.
The mirror is not an instrument of enlightenment but of illusion. "
Well, neither of us has looks worth staring at in the mirror.
You can come all you want, I'm not sharing this investigation.
And if you're too persistent, I'll have you detained.
I'm Togusa, Public Safety Section 9. This scary-looking fellow...
Blew her apart with double-0 buckshot.
A 50 caliber hollow point would've left her easier to reconstruct.
She wasted 3 people, two of 'em cops.
She was trying to commit suicide before you shot her. Isn't that right?
- "Commit suicide" meaning... Miss... - Haraway.
Miss Haraway, how exactly would a robot kill itself?
By intentionally malfunctioning,
these gynoids are capable of self-authorizing attacks against humans.
This liberates them from Moral Code #3.
Which stipulates, "Maintain existence without injuring humans. "
Isn't "self-destruction" more accurate?
If you assume differences between humans and machines are obvious.
Are such "suicides" confined to a particular model?
Not necessarily.
In recent years we've seen a surge of robot related problems,
especially among the "pets".
The cause?
E-brain contamination from microbes and viruses,
human production errors, functional defects from wear-and-tear.
- Take your pick, but... - But?
I say it's because humans discard robots once they're redundant.
When owners trade up to newer models,
some of those abandoned become vagrants, and degenerate.
Perhaps it's a protest against their own obsolescence.
Absurd.
Humans are different from robots.
That's an article of faith, like black isn't white.
It's no more helpful than the basic fact that humans aren't machines.
Unlike industrial robots, the androids and gynoids designed as pets,"
weren't designed along utilitarian or practical models.
Instead, we model them on a human image,
an idealized one at that.
Why are humans so obsessed with recreating themselves?
- Do you have children? - A daughter.
Children have been excluded
from the customary standards of human behavior,
if you define humans as beings who possess a conventional identity
and act out of free will.
Then what are children who endure in the chaos preceding maturity?
They differ profoundly from "humans," but they obviously have human form.
The dolls that little girls mother, are not surrogates for real babies.
Little girls aren't so much imitating child rearing,
as they are experiencing something deeply akin to child rearing.
What on earth are you talking about?
Raising children is the simplest way
to achieve the ancient dream of artificial life.
At least, that's my hypothesis.
Children aren't dolls!
Descartes didn't differentiate man from machine, animate from inanimate.
He lost his beloved five-year-old daughter
and then named a doll after her, Francine. He doted on her.
At least that's what they say.
Can we get back to reality here?
I'd like your observations with respect to the Hadaly robot,
model #2052, manufactured by Locus Solus.
Right.
It's very well designed.
I understand it's a prototype, but it's intended for particular functions.
Particular functions?
It's equipped with organs unnecessary in service robots.
Meaning?
It's a sexaroid.
Nothing to brag about to your neighbors, but hardly illegal.
I get it. Scandal. No wonder those families settled out of court.
When its systems shut down, the electronic brain reformats.
That's standard protection for manufacturer's proprietary software.
- But... - But, what?
We found a file in the audio buffer. Care to hear it?
Help me,
Help me, Help me,
Thanks for your help.
Uh, one last question. It's none of my business, but...
No, I've never raised a child.
Nothing registered at the ovum bank.
Thank you, Miss...
Haraway. No need for Miss or Mrs.
She's not really the type for technical work.
Her reports are doubtless full of unsolicited opinions, just like mine.
Which held you back from promotion.
We secure that gynoid's brain for the labs at Section 9.
That's the last we'll see of her.
- She your type? - Actually, I like older women.
- Next? - Follow procedure.
- Investigate the Hadaly inspector? - 09 calling 907,
There's been a 602 in the District 201 boathouse,
Victim is inspector for Locus Solus,
Scene secured two minutes prior to local police,
- Roger, 907. - Unbelievable timing.
"A fine spring day.
A carriage sprints between this world and the next. "
You're all alone here?
Koga got reacquainted with his dinner and went back with the corpse.
What a wimp.
The scene, 22 minutes ago.
You made a rookie deal with this mess?
Life's a learning curve. Here's what we've got.
Analysis of victim's brain yields...
Jack Volkerson, age 54. Consignment inspector for Locus Solus.
He applied for leave five days ago and vanished.
Three days ago, he rented this boathouse.
The murder weapon, kitchen utensils.
Inspection of the area turned up a vehicle license
linked to organized crime.
We're checking it out.
Seven credit cards found in jacket, presumably the victim's.
Investigating transaction history.
38 caliber SW Model 2602.
Looks like he ran out of time.
Doubt it would've done him much good.
"An illegally powerful cyborg," or maybe a professional faking a psycho.
969 calling 906, 20 seconds away from the scene, don't touch,
Not a thing.
Let's leave this to Forensics.
907 calling 09. We're handing the scene over to 969.
09, Roger,
It's my daughter's birthday.
- Family man, huh? - I'll drop you off.
- Wrong direction. Ishikawa? - Not headed his way, either.
Okay. Daughter's birthday takes priority.
You're a cheerful bunch.
The chief showing up at a scene?
The corpse is missing parts, that's why.
The place is all yours. Take your time.
What's the big deal over a local case?
The boss has taken an interest.
Found it! Divided up in jars in the refrigerator.
Heart, liver, kidneys, even the pancreas.
Conscientious bastard.
Fresh dog food, huh? Stick to dry food and he'll last longer.
I can't feed him that.
You're teamed up with Togusa?
Beats being paired off with a rookie fresh out of training.
For an ex-detective, he's got his uses. I've got no complaints.
Except that the only one up to your standards was the Major.
Cut the chatter, Ishikawa.
# But everything still holds me
# In my heart
# Hidden deep in my mind
# The pictures are still on the wall #
- Later. - Batou...
- What now? - Stick to the dry food.
For nutritional balance, it's better for the dog.
# And I am still here
# With your memories
# Dreaming hopelessly Holding in my heart
# All the flowers you gave
# Broken melodies
# No more singing
# No more laughing
# In the sun
# River of moonshine
# I hear your voice
# And it's calling
# But I'm still alone
# I'm alone
# Alone #
He died from a blow that severed his cervical vertebrae.
The kitchen utensils were for evisceration, not murder.
Someone took their time dismembering the corpse?
So it appears.
We've confirmed the organs in the refrigerator were the victim's.
They reveal gastritis and cirrhosis of the liver. Apparently an alcoholic.
Why'd the perp bother with the organs?
Maybe to create the impression he was a psycho or a freak.
Or to underscore an element of retribution or revenge.
So we're not looking for an assassin posing as a thrill-seeker.
What's with the warped doorknob?
Analysis indicates a Chinese prosthetic limb, model NR26.
Known as the Crab Claw. Strictly military.
Available on the black market, defective ones, anyway.
The Claw jives with that stiff's mutilated neck, too.
Did you track down the license on those yakuza wheels?
They've covered their tracks with a lot of illegal modifications.
Stick to the facts.
We tracked down records from a nearby parking lot.
The vehicle in question's registered to a crime group called Kojinkai.
Car's bulletproofed, with a reinforced chassis and rear shocks.
It's been linked to a number of assault scenes.
Custom wheels for a cyborg.
An illegally powerful bodyguard at that.
- So this was yakuza payback? - But where's the motive?
The Kojinkai's an entrenched Japanese crime syndicate.
Drugs, hookers, gambling, scams,
an anything-goes yakuza operation.
And a Hadaly gynoid yanked off the big boss, Inoue's head 3 days ago.
A young turk, Wakabayashi, took over the show.
It's a no-brainer.
Avenge the boss' death and his throne is yours.
Hold on.
If Volkerson knew they had it in for him,
why'd he take the trouble of hiding out on their turf?
We don't know.
His e-brain's wiped clean, so the car's our only lead.
Let's leave this one to the locals.
The terrorists-masquerading- as-deranged-robots scenario?
There's no political link between the victims,
so I think that's a dead end.
But I'm putting Batou and Togusa on all our berserk Hadaly cases full-time,
this one included.
The rest of you, get back to your regular shifts. That's it.
Togusa.
See me before you go.
Talk to me.
We'll check out any links between the Kojinkai mob and Locus Solus.
I mean Batou.
Your job includes monitoring your partner's emotional state.
I know, but I'm not a cyborg or an electronic neurologist.
"One need not be Caesar in order to understand Caesar. "
You're a family man, right? Do you consider yourself to be happy?
Well, sure.
Most of us are neither so happy nor so miserable as we think.
The key is to stay engaged with your life and your hopes.
I don't understand.
Lately, Batou's reminding me of the Major before she disappeared.
You know, Let one walk alone, committing no sin,
with few wishes, like an elephant in the forest. "
Chief, why did you pick me for this job?
Because it was the Major who plucked you off your local beat.
What'd he want?
Apparently you don't need to be Caesar in order to understand him.
That goes without saying.
"The world cannot live at the level of its great men. "
You planning on starting a war?
No need to be a yakuza to pay them a visit, but we'll need weapons.
- I want to get something straight. - What?
We're just going to chat with these guys, right?
You dislike yakuza?
- Sure. Detest them. - Same here.
But we're just going to chat, right?
Like I said, you don't need to be a yakuza...
I know. To pay them a visit. But you also said we need weapons.
I'm a family man.
I can always go alone.
No. I'll go with you, I am your partner.
But I want your word.
Okay. We're just going to chat. Avoid shooting as best you can.
- Happy now? - Just fine.
Let's go then, pal.
Who the fuck are you?
Here to chat with Wakabayashi. Go get him.
What about, "Avoid shooting?"
I did as best I could.
Move out, you're on point. Here comes their back-up.
Images!
That son of a bitch infiltrated our vision!
Blame your own cheap shit electronics.
What's up?
Narrow, dark stairs. What's the program?
- We take turns, I'll lead. - No, I'll lead.
You're so damned big, I can't cover you.
Your little gifts exploded above my head.
Even presuming they went off at their most lethal range,
you think two grenades are going to off an armored cyborg?
You insult me.
Start by telling me about the dead consignment inspector,
then spill your connections to Locus Solus.
Well, look who's here.
Bring it on, Crab Man. You and that claw look nasty, but I'm ready.
Betting on that obvious a move? Moron.
They told me where to find the consignment inspector...
...so we whacked him.
I'm fresh out of 3 years in the pen.
I know jack shit about what the boss was up to with that outfit.
Still with me, pal?
All I could see... were my wife and daughter's faces.
That wasn't your wife or daughter.
It was the grim reaper.
I ordered you to conduct an investigation.
I never said skip the paperwork and act like vigilantes.
I certainly don't recall ordering you to barge into any yakuza office.
This isn't the jungle and you're not Special Forces hit men.
- You still pissed off? - I am not pissed.
And I hate to sound ungrateful to the man who saved my life...
But being your partner is definitely gonna take a toll on me.
Look, it's only the two of us on this case.
A half-assed approach just won't cut it.
If Locus Solus has anything to hide, they'll come after us.
So that's why you put on that yakuza gun show.
Yeah, and if the chief was really pissed, he'd have suspended us.
Pull over, will you?
Later.
You're in the kill zone.
Don't tamper with the settings on that new arm of yours.
The operating system upgrades can conflict with the weapon-control,
rendering it entirely useless.
Then you'll have to reformat the thing.
Hey, where are the remains of my old arm?
Don't even think about it. Not much left.
The organic components in this new one match your DNA.
I suppose that, with enough use, it'll feel like my own.
Ouch. Hey, just hold on.
The fact that you carried him here means that...
Yeah. I broke into your love nest.
I just couldn't stomach the thought of him moaning with hunger,
covered in shit, waiting for you.
Believe it or not, I'm a dog lover.
But I'm the one that took him in for the night.
My daughter's in heaven and my wife's fuming over her dirty carpets.
When did you start tailing me?
It's no big deal, man.
Yes, it is a big deal. You used me as a smokescreen.
With experience, you would've caught on.
Blame it on the boss.
Is this pooch a clone?
Aren't originals outrageously expensive?
His was the first line bred by artificial insemination.
It's hardly your style to let them hack into your brain.
And any daily routine just makes you vulnerable to traps.
I told you to stick to dry food.
But he likes the fresh stuff and that's the only store that carries it.
They had you going berserk,
shooting five bullets into your own arm,
and nearly blowing away the store owner.
He may be nuts, but it's a rare bird that can hack into this guy.
Except for the Major.
And why didn't they make me blow my own head off?
I think, because they want to disgrace you, not wipe you out.
First, you barge into a yakuza office,
send a dozen men to heaven or the hospital,
and that very same day, unload your weapon in a grocery store.
So we think either you've gone mad or your e-brain's shot.
But this was a planned attack. It proves that our case wasn't random.
We can't pull out.
We'd jeopardize the whole point of Section 9.
That's what the Major'd say.
And I've got a message from the boss, too.
Stay on it, but no more official Section support
until you come up with material proof.
We'll go to the source then, Locus Solus.
Nothing preserves secrecy like speed.
You're going to the northern frontier immediately.
- Far north? - You two can't handle it?
Sure, but what about the basset?
A single man in this line of work keeping a dog is preposterous!
And of all dogs, you choose a high-maintenance hound.
It's not my problem. You guys figure it out!
This area was once intended
as the Far East's most important information center,
a Special Economic Zone in its heyday.
These towers survive as a shadow of the city's former glory.
Its dubious sovereignty has made it the ideal haven
for multi-nationals and the criminal elements that feed off their spoils.
It's a lawless zone, beyond the reach of UN or E-police.
Reminds me of the line, "What the body creates,
is as much an expression of DNA as the body itself. "
But the same applies to beaver dams and spiderwebs.
I'll take the coral reefs as my metaphor.
Though hardly so beautiful.
If the essence of life is information carried in DNA,
then society and civilization are just colossal memory systems
and a metropolis like this one, simply a sprawling external memory.
"How great is the sum of thy thoughts.
If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand. "
Psalms 139, Old Testament.
The way you spout these spontaneous exotic references,
I'd say your own external memory's pretty twisted.
Look who's talking!
Sorry to interrupt, but we're about to fly over Locus Solus,
This pass is for you, so take a good look,
So much for the free tour, Prepare for landing,
"His legions, angel forms, who lay entranced.
Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks. "
Now you're quoting Milton, but we are not Satan.