“You are being detained. For your safety, please cooperate.” The Synthcop’s grip on his wrist was tight, but not tight enough to injure.
They probably did a lot of lab testing on that, to avoid lawsuits. “But I didn’t do—”
“You are being detained. For your safety, please cooperate.”
“Listen, man, my car…” the front end was crumpled beyond recognition, and the radiator steam had now been replaced by the darker grey of smoke. “I don’t know what happened, but—” he felt a tiny prick on his wrist.
“Your blood alcohol level is point-oh-nine. You are under arrest.”
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