MAX HEADROOM: KILLER INSTINCT
Chapter 6: Hard Choices It was the most difficult decision Cheviot ever had to make in his life. Bryce was his youngest employee and he felt almost like a grandfather to the young genius. To complicate matters further, it was his own fault that Bryce had been placed the situation that had caused the young genius to make such a lethal choice. Nevertheless, it was a choice which Cheviot had to make. Picking up the vu-phone he paused. He could simply not call. Just stay out of it. But that might hurt Bryce even worse in the long run. The sooner it was over for him the better. He didn't want Bryce to spend a lifetime on the run. No, it would be easier on him in the long run if he went to trial as soon as possible. Hoping that this was really true and that he wasn't just trying to ease his own guilt, Cheviot phoned the Metrocops. "I have information regarding the death of John Parker." He told them, a look of heartache on his face as his spoke as the rest of the board looked on with pity for both Cheviot and their youngest coworker. While this was going on, Bryce was getting dressed at Edison Carter's apartment. He'd put on a bathrobe as he fled from his studio, but otherwise he had been completely naked. Theora had bought him some new clothes at a shop nearby as well as a new pair of sneakers. While putting them on, he noticed for the first time that he'd got a small piece of glass in the pad of his foot just under his big toe. He winced and gave a cry of pain when Edison extracted it. Theora got a band-aid and some cotton and put them on the small wound to cushion it. Bryce was just putting on his shoes when the Metrocop knocked on the door. The cop shook his head with pity. Cheviot had explained what he'd known to him. The boy was well within his rights to defend himself. Duty, on the other hand, demanded that the young genius be taken into custody pending the outcome of his trial. Edison checked his apartment's security screen. He recognized the cop as the one who had ignored the printing press. Knowing that he would not ignore Bryce's presence, he turned to Bryce who correctly interpreted the look on his face. "Cheviot turned me in," Bryce said, his face paler than a ghost. "Edison! I can't go to jail! I'll die of a panic attack in there! Please!" Edison nodded to Murray to let the officer in. He knew the man would not harm Bryce and had decided, as Cheviot had, that a swift trial was better for Bryce than a lifetime of anxiety on the lam. "Edison! Please!" Bryce begged, tears welling up in his eyes. "He won't hurt you," Edison reassured his youngest friend. "I know this one. He won't put you in jail. Will you?" he asked the cop who was now in the room with them. The cop shook his head. Then he turned to Bryce. "I do have to arrest you, that is my job. However, due to the circumstances surrounding the event, you won't go to jail. However, you will be brought to juvenile hall and will remain there pending the outcome of your trial. Look at the bright side," he added, sympathetically. "You might even make a friend or two there." Bryce scampered behind Edison. "Edison, please?" "Can't he be remanded into our custody?" Theora asked. "I'm afraid not," the Metrocop apologized. "But if it makes you feel any better, he will be allowed visitors. And I'm going to take him to the Westford Juvenile Detention center. That's the safest and cleanest one in the area." "The staff are very nice there, too," Theora told Bryce. "Shawn spent a couple years there after he ran away from the state home he and I were in when we were in our teens. Bryce, it won't be easy, but you'll be okay. And we will visit you." "I'll ride in the back of the car with you," Edison offered. "That is okay, isn't it?" "It's not permitted," the cop said. "But I think I can bend the rule just this once." "Thank you, Edison said, as he guided Bryce, who could barely walk for all the trembling he was doing, out to the Metrocop's car.
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