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Simon Royle



A Case File

UNPOL Section Office, Pratunam, Bangkok

Date: Monday December 2 2109

Case #: JM-Bgk-2109

Location: Pratunam, Bangkok

Log Time: 3:30pm

Subject: Jibril Muraz Personal Unique Identifier (PUI): 230963UK

Containment Officer/s: Somchai Pisanulock; Jirasak Pancharoen

Charge/s: Illegal Wiretapping, Identity Fraud, Counterfeiting.


Acting on information from a confidential informant we entered an unlicensed gambling den. Upon entering the premises we found that an illegal migration operation was in place and immediately enacted a containment order on all individuals and equipment. Further investigation of the equipment led us to believe that Jibril Muraz was in fact assisting criminals listed on UNPOL’s Most Wanted to evade detection using counterfeit PUIs. Subject did not resist containment and did not offer a statement.

Date: Tuesday December 3 2109

Case #: JM-Bgk-2109

Location: Pratunam, Bangkok

Log Time: 4:30pm

Subject: Jibril Muraz Personal Unique Identifier (PUI): 230963UK

Charge/s: Illegal Wiretapping, Identity Fraud, Counterfeiting.

Transfer Order:

By request of Serious Crimes Unit, UNPOL HQ, New Singapore. Please arrange immediate transfer of subject to New Singapore UNPOL HQ. ContainmentUnit prepared to receive at Changi Levport.

Date: Wednesday December 4 2109

Case #: JM-Bgk-2109

Request: Truth Treatment.

Location: Level 10, UNPOL

Log Time: 12:30am

Subject: Jibril Muraz

Request Filed by: Agent Sharon Cochran

Requested authorized for Submission: Director of UNPOL: Thomas Bartholomew Oliver

Request Authorized: Judge Miriam Wu

Truth Treatment Transcript:

Cochran: I’d like to start by asking a couple of basic questions that you should have no trouble answering. Is that OK? A Yes or No answer is sufficient.

Muraz: Yes.

Cochran: Your name is Jibril Muraz? And your PUI is 230963UK?

Muraz: No.

Cochran: Your identification and PUI were gathered from your Dev at the time of your containment in Bangkok; are you saying that this is not your true identity?

Muraz: Yes.

Cochran: Could you tell us your real identity?

Muraz: Yes.

Cochran: Good, excellent. We do appreciate your cooperation. Now perhaps you could give us more information about who you are beyond a simple Yes or No answer. What is your real identity?

Muraz: My real identity is Unknown.

Cochran: Um, yes, I see. All right, let’s move on, we can come back to the issue of your identity later. Your fixed abode is listed as 61 Sholle Street, Paddington, London, however we have checked that address and it doesn’t exist. Can you tell us where you normally live?

Muraz: Yes.

Cochran: And where is that then?

Muraz: I live in another dimension. It is alien to you.

Cochran: I see. Perhaps you could tell me more about this dimension. Where is it?

Muraz: I can’t explain it to you. You do not have the mental capacity or knowledge to understand any answer I could give you about that dimension.

Cochran: Well why don’t we try at least, could you tell me more about this dimension?

Muraz: No. *** End of Truth Treatment Transcript***

Subject refused to answer the last question, and biometrics for the subject indicated that he fell asleep after saying, “ No”.

Truth Treatment concluded. The effectiveness of the truth treatment is in doubt in this case. The results are inconclusive and provide no further information for trace unit, other than what is already known.

Date: Wednesday December 4 2109

Location: Level 10, UNPOL

Log Time: 11:30pm

Subject requested to produce an oral statement for the court

Transcript of Statement: Jibril Muraz 230963UK

Attending Officer: Agent Sharon Cochran

Statement Follows:

I was working as an illegal runner in a small shop in Bangkok. Life was simple. Eat, sleep, work. The rate was good, too good. We were running illegals, mostly out of the China Geographic but some from other Geographics too. If you could come up with the 50k cred for the counterfeit Personal Unique Identifiers we spent our days scripting, then you were eligible. We’d been at it for six weeks operating in shifts, two shifts, twelve to a shift, each of us running between three and eight illegals. At 50k per illegal good rates were being made by all us: 50 % in cred cards, paid then and there, each time we got someone through the security zones to their agreed destination.

The guy running the shop was a bastard, a real mean sadistic son of a bitch. He kept the temperature down, said it kept us awake. The shop was cold; I had to keep blowing into my hands just to keep my fingers from freezing. The booths had no heating, it was just horrible, but warmth, comfort, ethics, morals, rights and wrongs, well it was easy to forget all that with that amount of cred we were making.

I’ve been a ‘gun for hire’ since I was fourteen and here we are twenty years down that track. You want to know what happened and why. I can tell you the what. The why I am still working out.

[At this point, the subject Jibril Muraz requested, under article 3 of the United Nation Containment Code, that he be allowed to meet with arbitrator Jonah James Oliver. Request was formally denied on grounds of level 1 security threat.]

Statement continued:

The light show didn’t work. The drugs haven’t worked, and in another half an hour everything you know about me will disappear from your systems and you will not know who or what I am. Better get me what I want or you’ll come out of this with nothing you want or need.

[At this point subject appeared to adopt a meditation position and began to meditate.]

Chapter 1

The Request

UNPOL Headquarters, Jurong Island, New Singapore

Thursday 5 December 2109, 11:24am +8 UTC

“At which point all trace of Mr Jibril Muraz disappeared from our systems and he hasn’t said a word after that.” The woman who had just presented raised her eyebrows as if to invite a question from me. We were sitting in a small conference room on the new Biosense office seats that procurement had seen fit to torture us with.

“And he was drugged?” Well it might be stating the obvious but she was clearly expecting me to say something, and I still had last night’s leaving party for Milo banging around in my head. The last thing I needed was a runner.

She looked at me like I was some kind of novice. “Yes, of course he was drugged. Under the situation this was natural and after clearing his medical we proceeded with the Truth Treatment.”

“I see, and how did he respond to that treatment?”

At this Agent Sharon Cochran looked just a little perturbed and a slight edge of doubt crept into her voice, “He, um, appeared to resist the Truth Treatment, although that is hard to prove.”

I sensed she was dodging around something here that she didn’t want to talk about.

“Well, in what way was it hard to prove that he was resisting?”

She looked me in the eye. “Under the Truth Treatment he stated that he was an alien being from another dimension.”

I spat out my Starbucks latte over the table in front of me. “He what?” I couldn’t help it, and Sharon raised an eyebrow.

“He claimed he was an alien being. Look, this case is a problem. We’re under intense time pressure to get it cracked and all we have is a runner who claims he’s from another planet or dimension or whatever. I don’t have time to debate the how and the why we got here. We need answers and we need them quick. Can you talk to him or should I call someone else?” With this last thrust of her best executive power-presenting performance she looked at her watch and then frowned at my latte splattered all over the table.