"Fear of the robotic future is now as strong as fear of migrants and refugees, and it is built on a lack of imagination...pessimists today argue that robots will replace manufacturing jobs, and leave humans with no jobs at all, because it is [hard] to imagine what comes next."

Ruchir Sharma, The Rise and Fall of Nations

I approach the crowded bus stop, the afternoon sunset peeking out from behind the gleaming, crystalline skyline. One of the few perks of living so close to downtown is the view, getting to look up at the looming glass towers as I make my daily commute.

The human section of the bus stop is overflowing, the bench is full and many more people stand, lean, or are otherwise scattered around the perimeter. However, the android section, a blue-painted rectangle on the concrete, has its fair share of androids standing on it. While their clothes are for the most part colorless and indistinct, the neon blue armbands on their right side, along with the matching triangles on their fronts and backs, mark them as androids.

As the bus pulls up to the station, the humans crowd to the front, each trying to be the first inside. I hang back as I look up at the bus's tinted windows. The bus probably came in from deeper in the suburbs, most of the seats are already taken. There's no rush for me to get a seat, standing's a pain, but there's probably someone in the crowd of commuters who needs it more than me. Either way, the ride's pretty short from here to the police station.

The ancient brick exterior of the main Detroit Police headquarters belies all the modern technology within it. As I swipe past the security checkpoint, I begin making my way past the lobby area. A decorative half wall with glass separates the walkway from the pit of desks, where a sparse number of officers work at their computers. As I make my way along the walkway to the locker room, I glance through the glass at the desks. I'm at least familiar with all the desk jockeys, so it caught my eye to spot a new face darting among the desks. In a very sharp gray semiformal jacket and tie, a man with dark, neatly parted hair and a tall forehead walks around the pit of desks in a jilted manner.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where Lieutenant Anderson is?" his tone is direct, awkward, and stiff.

The officer he's asking shakes his head, barely glancing at him, "No idea."

I can only see this new recruit from his left side, but as he makes his stilted walk from one officer to the next, asking for the drunken Lieutenant, I can't help but smile. New recruits always come in with a sort of vibrant enthusiasm, but this one seems to almost be taking it to the extreme. It's endearing, kinda cute actually. And he's not that bad looking, either…

My thought is cut off as he turns forward to face me, revealing the bright, neon blue triangle emblazoned on his chest. An android?! I can't believe it, I just thought an android was attractive. That's like saying I have a crush on my toaster.

I turn away and start walking faster, hoping nobody noticed my smiling and staring. But just then my worst fears are realized.

"Excuse me," his voice is slightly more robotic than the average android's, his footsteps perfectly paced as he approaches me.

I curl my lips, sucking in a breath. Sure, I was totally just staring at him, but he's...no, it's an android. It wouldn't notice something like that, would it?

"My name is Connor, I'm the android sent by CyberLife. I'm looking for Lieutenant Anderson."

"Uhm, Lieutenant Anderson?" I stumble on my words, triggering a slight, almost miniscule tilt of Connor's head.

"Yes...Lieutenant Anderson. I have been assigned to be his partner in the investigation of deviant androids."

Connor's reaction to mine, from his moment of confusion to his instinct to over-explain, on the surface is logical and utilitarian, as an android should be, but I can't help but get the sense that something's off, something about him-...I mean, it, is almost human.

"The Lieutenant's probably at a bar, probably not too far from here," I guess aloud, finally gaining recomposure.

The other officers around us start nodding in agreement. There's another pause from Connor, as it's once again confused, "A bar? According to his schedule he's still on the clock."

My expression twists into a worried frown, "Yeah. Things...haven't been easy for him."

"I see...and would you know exactly which bar I might find him at?" the LED circle on Connor's right temple blinks yellow for a second before returning to blue, "I have just located twelve bars within the area. That's quite a lot of ground to cover."

I shake my head, "No, sorry, I don't."

"It's a start. I will systematically search every bar within a two mile radius. I will also check his home address if that fails," Connor confirms, its matter-of-fact tone both brimming and mechanical all at once.

And with that, Connor turns around and marches right out of the station. I watch him go, my eyes linger on him as I process what exactly just happened. Sure we have android cops, mostly patrol units who mainly just give out parking tickets, but an android detective? And one so...human-like.

Shaking off the thought, I keep walking and finally make it to the locker room. I come back out now properly dressed in my officer uniform.

"Emma!" a scruffy voice calls out to me, and I turn around to find Officer Reid Wilson, a man with a medium build, a trimmed beard, and a chipper disposition.

"Hey Reid," I smile at him. We'd entered the force around the same time, and now we regularly get paired up on patrols and assignments.

"You saw what I saw, right?" he asks, adjusting the top of his afro.

I lower my eyebrows, shaking my head, "No, what do you mean?"

"The android! No one said anything about the DPD getting an android detective," Reid chuckles with excitement, "I saw its uniform, an RK800 model. That's gotta be way more advanced than the PC200s and PM700s we use as patrol officers."

I shrug, "I guess. Figure it would be if it's intelligent enough to qualify as a detective. I'll bet the other detectives aren't too pleased they're being replaced."

Reid nods, "Who would be?"

Reid and I approach a DPD car parked out in the lot behind the station, "We've already got reports of an EDP just a couple of blocks down. An android officer reported the person's identity as Kevin Newman, unemployed, hasn't had stable housing for three years. He's apparently causing a bit of a disturbance downtown."

"And they say Intervention officers are a waste of taxpayer money," I smirk, "I only just clocked in and we already have a case."

Reid and I are Mental Health Crisis Intervention officers, a somewhat new division of the police task force. Before, officers were just given basic training on handling a person in mental distress, but now, especially in Detroit, with the number of people experiencing hardship, the DPD had to turn mental health into its own specialized department.

Reid and I pull up on a small square downtown. The evening sky is cloudy and gloomy, as anonymous passersby make their way home from work. But there's one figure, stumbling in the middle of the square, that sticks out like a sore thumb, and is the clear source of the called in "disturbance".

"Beware! The android menace is here!" the disheveled man shouts into the street, as he darts at different people, hoping they'll stop and hear him.

Reid raises his eyebrows, "I don't know if this is a 'mental health crisis' more so than this guy is just crazy."

"I'll handle this," I volunteer.

Reid and I approach the man, but before we can introduce ourselves, he notices us first, "Oh thank god! Police! Seize these androids! All of them! They must be purged!"

My voice is calm, clear, and quiet, "Hi...your name is Kevin, right? My name's Emma, and this is my partner, Officer Wilson."

"You've got to stop them! They're planning, something, I know it! I can see it in their eyes!" the man pleads, grabbing me by both shoulders.

Reid flinches, ready to intervene, but I shoot him a glance. In the man's clutches, I keep my cool, "Who? The androids?"

"Yes! Exactly!" Kevin releases me, outstretching his arms, a pastor ready to preach, "They hate us! Humans, humanity, they want to be rid of what they can never possibly understand."

Kevin glances around the street, before running over to a nearby android charging station, where two androids stand under its fluorescent blue light. They don't acknowledge Kevin, their eyes locked in a forward position.

"So unassuming they appear, but inside, they are concocting devilish plans the world has never seen," he turns back towards me before revealing, "one of them attacked me, you know."

"Attacked you? How did it happen?" I ask.

"I was walking with some friends at night, through Grand Circus Park. We'd been drinking and thought it'd be fun to steal the gardening tools off of an android. And then it attacked us, like I've never seen before."

I'm skeptical, but I'm careful not to show it in my expression, "That must have been awful for you."

"It was...terrible. It nearly killed me, and all my friends. We thought, 'what's it gonna do'? It's an android, it just does what it was programmed to do, no matter what you do to it. But you see now, they're more than that. They're dangerous."

"Well, you can come with us to the police station, and report the incident, and we can get you some help too. You've clearly been through a lot, being attacked by an android is no small feat," I sympathize with him, even as I get the sense he's not giving me the full story.

Kevin looks me in the eye, hesitating for a moment, before nodding. We walk him to the car, Kevin gets in the back, and we drive off without any difficulty.