Police Force-fasiso -pc- Access

Lena’s hand hovered over her holster. “I don’t see a weapon.”

It was about judgment. And no computer could ever own that.

She got out. “Elias Voss! Police! Hands where I can see them!”

The hoodie figure turned. It was Voss. He looked nervous, shifting his weight. Then he pushed open the door. Police Force-FASiSO -PC-

Her partner, grizzled Detective Marcus Velez, didn't have a FASiSO unit. He called it “The Electronic Leash.” He was old school: coffee, gut instinct, and a snub-nose revolver that predated the department’s switch to smart-guns.

“That’s because you haven’t pulled the trigger on your imagination yet,” Marcus muttered.

“Now or never, Lena,” Marcus said.

Recalculating… Predictive model error. Subject’s heart rate, pupil dilation, and gait matched historical data of pre-robbery suspects. False positive logged. Recommend apology.

They arrived in two minutes. The street was empty. Rain hammered the awning of the “Quick-Stop.” Through the steamed glass, Lena saw a figure in a hoodie—hands deep in pockets, shoulders tense.

Voss froze. His head whipped toward her. In the glare of the patrol car’s light bar, his face was a mask of terror, not malice. His hands shot up—empty. Lena’s hand hovered over her holster

“Suggest shutting up, FASiSO,” Lena muttered, tapping her badge against the terminal in her patrol car. The city’s new pilot program had paired twelve detectives with military-grade AI units, all running on a dedicated Police-Console network. In theory, it would solve crime before it happened.

Lena ignored the AI. She stepped closer. Voss was trembling. A carton of milk lay on the wet pavement by his feet—he’d dropped it when she yelled.

“He’s holding a milk carton and a sippy cup, FASiSO,” Lena whispered into her mic. “Where’s the armed robbery?” She got out