The Sniffer

By Francisco Angulo de Lafuente

The sniffer was born as a tool to aid police investigations. Its operating principle was simple: it detected tiny particles left behind by people and objects and could reconstruct past events.

It consisted of a set of sensors capable of detecting infinitesimal amounts of any substance, connected to powerful software that analyzed and interpreted the captured data. 

The key was in the algorithms created by young genius Brandon Nelson. By entering DNA samples and other information about the crime scene into the system, the software could determine who was present, what actions they carried out, and in what order the events occurred. 

The sniffer obtained samples from the environment, detected drugs, explosives, bodily fluids and microscopic fibers that went unnoticed to the human eye. From a single drop of sweat it could reconstruct a face and identify a suspect.

The first prototype had cables all over the perimeter of the area to analyze. But later versions were portable, the size of a vacuum cleaner. The suction system captured particles which were analyzed in real time. 

It was used at first without revealing details to the public. The technology was so advanced that criminals would try to alter results if they knew about it. 

Thanks to the sniffer many complicated crimes were solved. Its Bayesian analysis and data crossing avoided tampering and false accusations. The reliability was so high that results were solid evidence in court.

Of course, there was resistance to change. More traditional police criticized relying on a "toy." But over time the sniffer gained prestige by closing previously unsolvable cases. 

It revolutionized forensic science. A powerful tool that functioned thanks to Artificial Intelligence through a neural network. In the right hands it brought justice, but in the wrong hands it could plant evidence and incriminate innocents. A double-edged sword that challenged ideas about privacy and security in the information age.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Francisco Angulo de Lafuente
• Release date: Aug 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223135715

Francisco Angulo de Lafuente

Francisco Angulo Madrid, 1976 Enthusiast of fantasy cinema and literature and a lifelong fan of Isaac Asimov and Stephen King, Angulo starts his literary career by submitting short stories to different contests. At 17 he finishes his first book - a collection of poems – and tries to publish it. Far from feeling intimidated by the discouraging responses from publishers, he decides to push ahead and tries even harder. In 2006 he published his first novel "The Relic", a science fiction tale that was received with very positive reviews. In 2008 he presented "Ecofa" an essay on biofuels, whereAngulorecounts his experiences in the research project he works on. In 2009 he published "Kira and the Ice Storm".A difficultbut very productive year, in2010 he completed "Eco-fuel-FA",a science book in English. He also worked on several literary projects: "The Best of 2009-2010", "The Legend of Tarazashi 2009-2010", "The Sniffer 2010", "Destination Havana 2010-2011" and "Company No.12". He currently works as director of research at the Ecofa project. Angulo is the developer of the first 2nd generation biofuel obtained from organic waste fed bacteria. He specialises in environmental issues and science-fiction novels. His expertise in the scientific field is reflected in the innovations and technological advances he talks about in his books, almost prophesying what lies ahead, as Jules Verne didin his time. Francisco Angulo Madrid-1976 Gran aficionado al cine y a la literatura fantástica, seguidor de Asimov y de Stephen King, Comienza su andadura literaria presentando relatos cortos a diferentes certámenes. A los 17 años termina su primer libro, un poemario que intenta publicar sin éxito. Lejos de amedrentarse ante las respuestas desalentadoras de las editoriales, decide seguir adelante, trabajando con más ahínco.

Book preview

Be careful when treading the fine line that separates good from evil, as we may find ourselves on the wrong side...

Introduction

Harry works as a police officer in the small town of Fordwood, a place where everyone knows each other and nothing ever happens. A quiet place where people age slowly. Harry lives tormented by the memory of the murder of little Lisa. It was his first and only homicide case and he had been working on it for over twenty years without getting any results. Over the years, the humidity seemed to have seeped into his very bones, de-calcifying, twisting and wearing them down. He had become a bundle of ailments. Envy and anger spread quickly throughout the population, perhaps hitting them all at once, like the flu taking them by surprise, but maybe it was incubated for years passing from generation to generation, growing little by little until it exploded. Small disputes over livestock, quarrels over the boundaries delineating the farms, gossip and defiant glances were the match that lit the powder keg. The quiet mountain town that any visitor would choose as the ideal place to retire, turned overnight into an infernal place, where no one could be trusted.

My memory fails me more and more; I quit drinking years ago, but I still wake up with a hangover every morning. I probably fell asleep on the sofa as soon as I got home from work; there’s no need to panic...

Today I have a doctor's appointment; I hope all the tests come back favorable as I cannot afford to be out of work; plus, at my age, they would probably just give me early retirement. I can't even think about it; I've dedicated my whole life to my job and I wouldn't know what to do without it.

Although I'm a homicide detective, my job at the station isn’t usually too glorious: generally filling out some paperwork, dealing mainly with complaints and territorial disputes between neighbors, and, every now and then, investigating the death of a cow or some other farm animal. Although over the years my memory has weakened, I still clearly remember the event of the summer of '88: the murder of little Lisa. The event shocked the whole town and was even broadcast on national television. I still gather information about the case in my free time, hoping to catch the culprit someday

1

I've barely slept for days. Last night I went to bed early and by ten I was already in bed. Since I didn't have anything interesting to read, I spent some time staring at the ceiling, thinking about the damned medical exam. My back was torturing me and I couldn't stay still for more than a few minutes; so even though I was trying to sleep, it was completely impossible. The ticking of the clock's second hand echoed in the room. Every now and then I glanced at the old orange plastic alarm clock, watching the hours go by while I still couldn't fall asleep. It wasn't nerves, although I was quite worried about what the doctor would tell me; it was really a physical issue. In this damned town the winters are very humid, so over the years my bones have been destroyed. I suffered from severe neck pain and my joints became inflamed. I took a ton of medication, but the rheumatism seemed to be winning the battle. I spent one of my worst nights, it felt like I was being kicked all over; I barely managed to sleep in spurts. When I finally passed out from exhaustion, the damned alarm started ringing.

Shut up, you scoundrel! I shouted, swatting at it.

Then I sat up and when I sat on the edge of the bed, all my vertebrae cracked like a rattle. I took a deep breath and endured the pain: I was mentally preparing myself for the worst. I kept my pills in the kitchen; that way I was forced to get up and go get them; otherwise I would take them in bed and wouldn't even dare try to stand up. I leaned on the nightstand with one hand and the bed with the other, and managed to straighten my legs.

Well, that wasn't so bad, I told myself, but as soon as I took the first step, a whiplash jolted through me like an electric shock, starting at my heel and traveling all the way up my body to my neck. I almost cried from the pain, but before even thinking about it twice, I kept limping to the kitchen.

I made myself a watery coffee with a drop of milk; I heated it to boiling in the microwave and then drank it accompanied by an assortment of multicolored pills. I waited the mandatory fifteen minutes watching the digital clock on the oven, until the meds started taking effect. Once the tedious morning ritual was complete, and after my joints had warmed up, I could live a normal life; I got dressed calmly and left at 6:55. The few minutes left to complete the hour were enough to get in my car and drive the two blocks that separated me from the station. It was a very small town; from end to end you could walk across it in just a few minutes, but even so, we all tended to get around by car. In my case, with my age and health issues, it could be justified, but as for the rest it made no sense. I guess this way we felt more civilized. What good is having a car if you don't use it? Although maybe that wasn't the right question, perhaps it should be: why buy a car when you don't need it?

As soon as I walked out the door, the unpleasant greeting from the intense rain reminded me of the problems we've been having lately. Many farms were being flooded and we had to go check them out to document the damages, so that later the insurance companies or the government would take action. The black sky filtered the sunlight, making everything appear illuminated only in gray tones. This damp weather was the last thing my bones needed; maybe I should consider moving somewhere warm, where I could enjoy my retirement. Days like today seemed endless. I don't even remember how long we've had this storm; it was as if it had always been raining; I couldn't recall a single sunny day.

Damn it! I exclaimed, as I got in the car and stepped outside the curb, putting my foot in a puddle. 

After spending a good while shining my shoes and getting them cleaner than a whistle, it pains me that the first step I took out of the house got them all muddy. Days like these it's better to just stay home. The old Ford started reluctantly; its carbureted engine didn't handle the humidity well. The water poured down the windshield in streams, and even at top speed the wipers couldn't sweep it away. One of these days I have to stop and buy new ones at the mall; these are so worn out they leave more streaks than a comb.

We have an underground parking garage, but no one uses it, we always leave the cars on the curb, right in front of the entrance. The thought of getting to the office and having a nice coffee with donuts cheered me up.

Good morning, Jimmy. Where's my breakfast? I asked my partner. 

Don't tell me you forgot you had a doctor's appointment again.

Now?

Yes, of course, first thing in the morning. 

Damn, I thought it was mid-morning.

Just what I needed to start the day; the doctor's visit was one of the things I disliked most. I always try to avoid checkups, but lately the work insurance company has become very picky about these issues and they force us to have a review every three months. I had avoided going to a health center for several years; if I have any pain I prefer to go to the pharmacy and take whatever the pharmacist recommends. I can't stand spending the morning in a waiting room full of sick people. Fortunately I've never had to be admitted to a hospital, only once when I was sixteen and had my appendix removed. The farther away from doctors the better, as soon as they see anything they start running tests on you and before you know it they have you on the operating table with your guts hanging out. Unfortunately this time the appointment was unavoidable.

Harry, I have nothing to do right now, if you want I'll go with you and then we can stop by Markus's farm.

Markus Kiusak? 

The one and only. Apparently the stream near his farm overflowed and we have to write up a new report.

That damned bastard, I hope he drowns! I muttered under my breath.

Ever since little Lisa's affair, I haven't been able to look that scoundrel in the face. Although no evidence was found and the charges were dismissed, I was always certain that he was the culprit. Since that unfortunate day, I've kept him under constant watch and I'm sure that sooner or later he'll make a mistake.

Okay, let's go so I'm not late, and don't forget that today it's your turn to pay for breakfast, I said very convincingly.

As soon as you finish your checkup I'll treat you to coffee and donuts at Alfred's bar.

I don't know if he'll be open that early.

Yesterday was Sunday and I don't think he closed too late...

Just going into that white painted place puts my hair on end. Luckily the insurance office was usually empty, at most you'd find one person waiting, but this time I was alone. Jimmy stayed below in the SUV we used for work. Nothing ever happens, but it's just as soon as you let your guard down that they start calling you on the radio for some urgent matter. For a few minutes I sat in the waiting room, waiting for them to call my name. Several minutes passed and I started to get a little nervous, so I went over to the door and knocked twice with my knuckles.

Yes? Come in, come in.

Good morning, I had an early morning appointment.

Mr. Swank, Harry Swank?

That’s right, I replied, surprised at the muffled, trembling tone of my voice.

I sat down, and for some time he remained silent reading my medical record; then he asked me a bunch of questions. I had to lie on several of them. Then we moved on to the physical exam; at this point I was really tense; I felt like the young doctor would immediately realize I was lying, but he didn't say anything during the examination. He had a form with drawings of the human body where he marked crosses and took notes. My career was in the hands of that kid; it was unbelievable that he’d had time to study at university; if I saw him on the street I wouldn’t think he was more than eighteen years old. After doing a bunch of exercises in my underwear, he told me to get dressed and go back to the waiting room because he needed to check on some things. The small room remained empty and I sat back down on one of those plastic chairs attached to a beam forming a row. There was no television or anything to read, so I tried to relax and not think about the results. I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, but the bone pain wouldn't leave me in peace. The plan wasn't working and I could think of nothing other than the image of the young doctor in the white coat suspending me from work.

The door opened unexpectedly and the doctor poked his head out to call me. The moment of truth had arrived. I sat at the table while the doctor kept flipping through my file. I was on the verge of getting up and leaving before hearing anything, I was about to explode.

Well, Mr. Swank, I have some bad news for you. If the tests are correct, you have some kind of neuronal disorder that could lead to motor problems; we could be talking about severe joint pain and consequent reduced mobility. Do you sleep well at night?

Like a baby; I usually sleep all night long without waking up and I haven't noticed any discomfort in my joints; well just some minor aches, normal I guess for my age.

Look, this falls into the field of neurology; there's nothing I can do; I'm going to sign off on your report as fit for work; if in the next few days you notice any discomfort, stop by here and I'll process your sick leave.

Okay. Can I leave now? I was impatient to get out of there as soon as