Connor scanned the blue stained remains painting the corner of the Eden Club's private room. The body was so mangled it was almost unrecognizable as something that could have ever even resembled a person. Every time he visited a particularly violent crime scene, a small part of him wished he hadn't turned deviant. It had been much easier to do his job and investigate the body before he could feel empathy for his fellow machines. Repetition and study had numbed him to it a bit in the year since, but a scene like this was difficult for even the most seasoned examiner to take in.
"Jesus, if you guys can't keep your customers alive you're gonna start losing business, guy," Hank said to the proprietor. He took out a handkerchief to hold over his nose and mouth as he took in the gruesome display.
A charred human corpse lay tangled in blackened sheets in the middle of the bed, the fire recent enough that the body was still smoking. Android body parts were strewn across every corner of the room, the blue blood from its remains splattered across the walls. The smell of burnt flesh mixed with the metallic tang of boiled therium. There were fewer clean spots in the room than areas that had been covered in evidence.
"Vico. My name if Vico," the proprietor said. By his side, a platinum blonde android clad in a bob cut and a purple satin robe bearing the club logo stepped forward.
"This isn't the first time this has happened," she told Hank, her green eyes brimming with angry tears.
"Well, that's the thing," Vico said nervously. "Though no one was killed before. Not this way."
"That what's happened?" Hank asked.
As Connor scanned the remains of the same android in the opposite corner of the room as the first, he began to recognize a blast pattern. He reconstructed the trajectory of the limbs, analyzed the splatter of therium along the walls behind the bed, and then stood up to give Hank his answer.
"This android exploded mid-coitus," he said, walking over to the bed to inspect the human body that had been caught in the blast.
"Sounds like the setup to a bad joke," Hank scowled. "And this has happened before?" he asked, turning back to Vico and the platinum android. "Exploding androids is a regular thing here?"
"Just- just a couple others," he replied. "One of the human girls got singed but no harm done."
"Amber and Casey were harmed, Vico," the android angrily objected. "They blew up."
"And you didn't think to call the police when your android employees started exploding?" Hank asked.
"They were together, you know, like together together," Vico replied. "Figured it was just some kinky android shit gone wrong."
The human body on the bed was unidentifiable from a facial scan, so Connor had to open the mouth of the corpse to inspect his teeth. He stuck his fingers inside and felt around for the molars.
"Please tell me you aren't going to stick your fingers in your mouth," Hank said.
"I'm checking his dental records," Connor explained, scanning the public registry once he had imprinted the molars into his fingertips. "The victim was Robert Sinclair, age 47." He stood up and moved to wash his hands in the sink in the corner of the room. Discomfort with leaving human or android remains on his fingertips was another thing he had picked up after becoming deviant.
"Oh no, Bobby?" Vico said. "He was a regular customer." Connor had finished washing up and approached Vico.
"Under the android penal code 11164 you are required to report any damage or destruction of androids under your employment to the authorities as soon as you become aware of said damage," Connor said, his face grim.
"Now wait a minute," Vico stammered. "I didn't know I had to call in about exploding androids. Nobody even came looking for 'em. I figured I didn't have to report it if no one came."
"Nah, the android code doesn't get ratified for human citizens until January," Hank clarified. "Can't bring you in for the androids exploding on their own, but you can sure as shit be held accountable for this guy's death."
"I don't know why those other bots exploded!" Vico shouted. "I even dug through the body's source code to see if I could find any errors. All I found was this recently added bit that I couldn't figure out." He pulled a flat metal data syringe out of his pocket and held it up for them to see.
"We should have taken it to a professional, Vico," the platinum android cut.
"Too late for that now, we gotta shut this place down till your Tracis stop exploding," Hank replied. "Can't risk anyone else getting blown up."
"No, you can't!" Vico argued. "Now that I have to pay all the androids I can barely afford the overhead on this place. It'll put me out of business if I have to shut down, even for a little bit. Can't you just fix this code?"
"We don't know how long that's gonna take our guys back at the station," Hank said. "Could be weeks."
"I can't wait that long!" Vico gasped. He swung out his arm and injected the data syringe into the back of Connor's neck, pushing down on the plunger to transfer the code into his system.
"Fucking Christ!" Hank shouted, before lunging at Vico to tackle him to the floor. The platinum android shrieked and jumped back out of the way, her frantic gaze shooting back and forth between Vico and Connor. Hank twisted Vico's arms up behind his back, slapping cuffs around his wrists, while looking back up at his partner. "You OK, Connor?" he asked.
Connor reached back behind his neck and pulled out the data syringe, immediately running a diagnostic to see what was changed.
"I think so," he replied hesitantly. "Although it can take a moment for foreign code to integrate-rate-rate-rate-rate-"
Connor's diagnostic program reported an error just as his motor control began to seize. He made an attempt to walk towards Hank but found himself crashing to the floor as his limbs locked into default position. The platinum android had begun to scream again.
"Connor!" Hank shouted.
Connor thought Hank had begun to shout something else above the shrieking of the android, but his audio processor gave out shortly before his optical unit locked up on a field of red. Even his diagnostic program was failing to report just how many systems had been corrupted as they seized up one after another, until the diagnostic failed too.
That horrible emotion Connor had come to recognize as fear overwhelmed him as his ability to perceive the world was cut short. He was shutting down.
And somehow, he had remained conscious through the whole thing. Every one of his sensory input systems had stopped functioning, but his logic centers kept whirring along, lost in the red field. His chronometer had gone offline as well, so he could be locked in this virtual prison for a millennia and he would have no measure of its passing. The humans had their mythology of a hell full of fire and brimstone. For an android, it was a sea of red apart from time.
A slice of static cut through the red field, and Connor tried running another diagnostic.
Still offline.
He waited, hoping for another flash of static to hint at the world outside. Eventually it happened again, twice this time, before the static covered the entire field of red. He could make out vague shapes coming through the static, and could feel his systems starting to come back online one by one. His balance-feedback interface was one of the first to reboot, so he was hit with the sensation of lying on his back. The blurry images coming through the static were slowly getting clearer, so the flash of sandy brown hair seemed to indicate that someone was hovering over him. He made an attempt to blink his eyes or move his hands, to communicate in any way, but he was still completely frozen up.
Suddenly the red static flew apart as all his systems seemed to restart at once. His teeth smashed together as his jaw locked and his back arched up. Every soft tissue and filament in his structure had suddenly had its tension set to 100% as he was reset. He let out a strangled cry as he collapsed back to the surface and his systems stabilized.
"Hey, there he is!" Hank's voice sounded from somewhere above him. "You scared the shit out of me Connor. I thought you had totally shut down."
"Don't blow your load yet, Hank. I still gotta find out what caused the system lockup in the first place," an unfamiliar woman's voice replied. Connor blinked rapidly up at the ceiling, before flailing his limbs out to make sure they were working.
"Easy, easy!" Hank said, putting his hands on his arms to keep him in place. "You're OK. I've got an android technician checking you out. We're at her place."
Connor found Hank on his left, looking down at him with concern. He lifted his head to scan his surroundings. Going by the cabinets on the wall above him, he seemed to be in a kitchen of someone's home. He was uncertain how he had gotten from the Eden Club to lying on a kitchen table of an unknown house, but with Hank here, the likelihood that it was his doing was above 90%.
"What happened?" Connor asked.
"You locked up," the woman's voice sounded again. Connor found the woman hovering over him to the right, clad in a worn gray t-shirt and reading diagnostics on her tablet. The sandy brown hair was hers, though now that his optic sensors were fully functioning he could see errant streaks of gray in her messy bun. Her gray eyes looked drowsy, and Connor deduced that Hank had woken her up in the middle of the night to fix him.
Connor scanned her face, searching the public database for her information. Her name was Lisa Hill, age 32. Registered android technician with a clean criminal record.
"I told you that shit-stain from the club infected him with something," Hank said. "You gotta get it out of him."
"At least give me a chance to figure this shit out first," she replied, her head snapping up to face Hank. "It's probably the same code that's causing the Tracis at the club to blow the fuck up. If I can fix up the code in your android then you can transfer the software over to the club and stop people from getting fried."
"Fine, just-" Hank barked, clearly irritated. "Just do it quick. I don't know how long he has till he blows."
"Sit up, Connor," she commanded, finally looking down at him. "It's time to do some soul searching."
Connor carefully did as she said, swinging his legs over the side of the table. His limbs still felt stiff from their locked state. He swung his legs back and forth a bit to try to loosen them up before turning to regard the woman.
"I don't believe we've been officially introduced," Connor offered as she hooked up a cable to her tablet. "My name is Connor. I'm the android operating the Crimes Against Synthetic Persons division at the Detroit PD." She smirked as she glanced up at him from her work.
"Cute social relations software," she replied. "Dr. Lisa Hill, at your service." She jammed the other end of the cable into the back of Connor's neck without warning, prompting that same flash of red across his visual field, a sudden sharp rise in his internal temperature, and an uncontrolled shout out of his mouth.
"What the fuck kind of reaction is that?" she asked him, leaning back to study his face.
"I... don't know," Connor replied, just as surprised as she was. His tactile sensory input system had never given him that kind of response before. The field of red was similar to when he locked up, but the hot sensation was completely new. The changes to his code began to concern him.
Dr. Hill looked him over curiously, a crease between her brows deepening from years of studied concentration. Her eyes fell to the LED on his temple, which Connor knew was only just fading back to blue from the yellow it had been moments before. Many androids had their LEDs removed after the android emancipation last year, but Connor had kept his in place as a reminder to the more intolerant humans at the police station that androids worked among them as equals.
"Hmm," Dr. Hill hummed thoughtfully. "Input your password so I can access your source code," she said, handing him the tablet.
Connor looked back at Hank, asking for silent confirmation that he could trust this woman with his code. At Hanks's nod, Connor followed her instructions, typing out the 64 digit code.
"Now voice recognition code," she said.
"Connor model number 313 248 317," he spoke into the microphone. She took the tablet back, tapped on a few prompts, and typed out one more key code.
"All right I'm in," she said. "I see the recent modification to your code. Oh. Oh this is rich."
"What? What is it?" Hank asked.
"That genius from the club left a fucking break point at the start of the new code changes," she replied. "No wonder he locked up."
"Is he gonna be OK?" Hank asked.
"I don't know yet," she said. "I have to figure out what this code does first. Give me a minute."
As the doctor searched around his source code, Connor took the opportunity to survey his surroundings. Dr. Hill's house seemed to be very old. There was a large water stain on the ceiling, a bit of wallpaper was starting to come loose, and a crack in the foundation was sneaking its way up one of the walls. He had thought android technicians were compensated well enough to afford better living conditions.
He looked out through the doorway of the kitchen to see the front door, spotting an early model android waiting in standby mode beside it. It appeared to predate biocomponents, its inner parts of circuitry and pneumatics visible through it's alloy skeleton.
Connor scanned the old android. A PA25 model, unregistered.
"Where did you get a PA25 android?" Connor asked, doing a quick history search on the model. "They were never put into wide production."
"I interned at CyberLife back when I was in grad school," she replied absentmindedly. "I was on the team that developed that model, so I got to keep one." She stopped typing on her tablet to look up accusingly. "And before you get a bug up your ass about it, it's a pre-Turing test model. It doesn't have the computational power for free will."
"Did I say something wrong?" Connor asked, looking back at Hank questioningly. Hank shook his head before turning back to Dr. Hill.
"All right, just focus on the damn code, Lisa," he said.
"Aw, you're protecting your android from me, that's sweet," she shot back with a sneer. "When'd you get so attached to plastic?"
"Lieutenant Anderson and I are friends," Connor offered helpfully. Dr. Hill cast a sidelong grin at Hank as he brought his hand to his forehead. She appeared to be in on a joke.
"What model are you, Connor?" she asked, turning back to her code.
"RK800," he answered. "I was a prototype designed by CyberLife to help solve the deviant crisis shortly before the android emancipation took place."
"So you're unique among androids," she hummed. She glanced at Hank, then back to Connor. "It's an interesting thing to be unique," she began.
"Oh Jesus, here we go," Hank muttered.
"The human condition begins with uniqueness," she continued. "Even humans with with identical twins have unique genetic code, so we have no inherent connection to each other. Not like an android." She raised her eyebrows and stared directly into Connor's eyes. "Most androids can find someone exactly like themselves if they want. Someone with the exact same programming and appearance. Someone who just knows what it's like to be you, and what you need. Not you though. Not a whole lot of other Connor's running around, are there?"
"The RK800s were only developed as needed," Connor replied. "The only other copy sent to replace me was unfortunately destroyed."
"Unfortunately is not how I remember it," Hank said under his breath.
"Maybe you understand the human condition better than most," Dr. Hill told Connor with a sly smile. Connor looked pointedly at the code she was running though on her tablet.
"And your grasp on the android condition is no small feat," he replied.
"Ha!" she laughed, before turning to Hank. "Look, Hank, I'm making a connection."
"Ugh," Hank grumbled and stayed out of the conversation. Connor was unsure why that was something to proclaim, so he searched for the connection between them. He studied Dr. Hill's hands as she typed in queries on her tablet, the fluid movements evidence of years of practice.
"Do you think any of your code from your time at CyberLife is in my software, Doctor?" he asked.
"I doubt it," she replied. "The latter day models used a different programming language than our early prototypes. At best there's probably a lingering if-then statement in the chronometer program I authored."
"You could say that a part of you is in me, then," Connor said, confident in the connection he had outlined. Dr. Hill gave him a relaxed smile.
"Kinky," she winked at him.
"Godammit Lisa, will you stop screwing with him?" Hank asked. Lisa ignored him, and leaned in closer to Connor.
"Though you've clearly had a lot of people in here," she added. "Your code is quite the beast. Bet you're real popular down at the station."
"On the contrary Doctor, many of my colleagues have a deep-seated distrust of androids," he corrected. "Much of my time goes into trying to smooth over relations with them."
"It's almost as if they're resistant to the idea of androids replacing them," she said.
"I was designed to compliment a team, not replace them. There's no reason we can't all work together."
"Hey Hank, I thought you said this thing was your partner," she interrupted, turning to Hank. "Why's his sarcasm calibration so fucked up if he works with you all day?"
"My software does not superimpose the mannerisms I have studied from one person to another without prior connection," Connor replied. Dr. Hill's gaze slid over to Hank.
"Keeping the past in the past, huh?" she asked him.
"I don't talk about that kind of shit at work, Lisa," Hank replied.
Connor was about to ask more about the Doctor, when her face lit up as she dug through the code.
"Oh, this is interesting," she said, looking up from the tablet with an almost malevolent grin. "I think I know why your sensory input system fucked up when I plugged in the cable. This bit of new script is meant to change your neural coding so that your neuroelectrical signals register as actual pain."
"Wait, are you saying-" Hank began.
"Oh yeah," she interrupted. "Your little boy toy here feels pain now. Take a look." She grabbed Connor's hand, and pinched his palm hard between her fingernails. That familiar flash of red and sharp temperature increase had returned. Connor let out a shout, instinctively withdrawing his had from Dr. Hill's grasp.
"That... was unpleasant," Connor said. Androids weren't designed to feel pain. Pressure, yes. Damage recognition, yes. But pain? It was an unnecessary cruelty to program such a sensation.
"Why the fuck would someone want the Tracis down at the Eden Club to feel pain?" Hank asked.
"Because," she said, turning her smirk back to Connor. She reached for his hand again, but Connor pulled away, not eager to experience whatever pain she wanted to inflict on him next. "Trust me," she said quietly. "You're going to like this part."
Connor hesitantly complied and offered the Doctor his hand. With a grin she lifted his hand up to her face and ran her tongue along the thin skin between his index and middle fingers. This time Connor saw an intense flash of white coupled with a warm sensation that radiated out from his hand and shot down his spine. Of their own volition his eyelids drifted closed and a small gasp escaped his lips.
"It means he can feel pleasure too," she said with a satisfied grin.
"OK, OK, knock it off. Now's not the time for Connor to become a man," Hank said. "And you really don't know where those hands have been. Can you fix the fucked up code or not?"
"Depends on if he wants to be fixed," Dr. Hill said with a sidelong smirk to Connor.
"He's gonna blow, Lisa!" Hank argued. "And not in the pleasurable way."
"My guess is the Tracis all blew up from overstimulation," she sighed, dropping Connor's hand and turning back to her tablet. "Were they doing the deed when they exploded?"
"The last one definitely was," Hank replied. "Didn't see the remains of the others, but the story made it sound like they were."
"Figures," she said. "Whatever hack put this code together didn't set a tolerance threshold, so the sensory input system basically overloads from too much pleasure or pain. That's how you get your Big Bang."
"This is fucking ridiculous," Hank said, running his hand through his hair.
"Don't worry, fixing it is a piece of cake," she added. "I can alter the code so that the androids feel pleasure and pain without the overload to their systems, and then Connor can take the code back to the Eden Club and transfer it to the Tracis there. Just give me a few minutes."
"Well, you'll just have to be careful not to slam your hand in any car doors on the way," Hank said to Connor.
"How do humans manage to deal with these sorts of sensations?" Connor asked with a bewildered look to Hank. "Even the slightest stimulus to my hand was... intense."
"By indulging in them, sweetheart," Dr. Hill replied, focused on the code. "Maybe you should give it a go with the androids down at the club. Wait," she paused, looking up from her work curiously. "Can you even fuck?"
"I am fully equipped to perform physical relationship functions," Connor answered. "I was designed to be an appealing trade in exchange for a human hostage."
"That's fucked up," she she said, her eyes wide.
"Jesus, Connor," Hank said.
"But I've never had cause to use that particular subroutine," Connor added. He wasn't sure why he felt compelled to let the Doctor know that.
"A virgin android," she said, turning back to her work. "That's adorable."
"Can we not have the birds and the bees talk right now?" Hank asked. "Listen Connor. I wanna go back to the Eden Club and get those Tracis fixed right away..."
Connor watched Dr. Hill work on her tablet, digging through his 'soul', as she had called it. She appeared to be 5 feet 10 inches, taller than most women he had met. Though her hair was graying early from whatever stresses she had encountered in her life, her face still appeared youthful. The Doctor seemed to be impressed with his code, so Connor could only surmise that she had the ability to understand it. He wondered if maybe she would like to see more of it to learn about the extent of his programming.
When she had pinched his hand, he did not enjoy the sensation that it caused. Pain was something he would have to be more careful to avoid, especially since he was so accustomed to not flinching in the face of damage. It would involve rewriting his own instincts, or he would have to build up a tolerance to it. It may be prudent for him to have the new code removed as soon as possible.
On the other hand...
Dr. Hill's warm tongue on his fingers had been very... nice. He had experienced the unpleasant side of the new program more than once, he would be a poor investigator if he had it removed without exploring the pleasurable side a bit more. Maybe she would lick his hand again if he asked.
"Hey, Connor! Are you listening?" Hank asked.
"Yes, Hank," he replied. "It would be beneficial to make sure the Tracis don't put anyone else in harm's way." Hank narrowed his eyes at Connor before turning back to Dr. Hill.
"You about done?" he asked.
"Don't fucking rush me, asshole," she replied, scrolling through the code one last time. "But yeah, I'm done. Just gotta package up the changes for delivery."
"You coulda just fucking said that instead of biting my head off," Hank argued.
"Fuck you, I like to bite," she shot back, pulling the cable out of the back of Connor's neck. Connor flinched, but didn't experience a pain response. She plugged the data syringe into her tablet to upload the changes to the code, then handed the drive to Hank. "Here's your vaccination. Now get back to the club and let me get back to sleep. I've had a long day."
"Thank you, Dr. Hill," Connor said, hopping down from the table. He extended his hand out to offer her a handshake.
"Yeah, yeah. You're welcome," she replied, giving his hand a perfunctory shake. "Now get outta here," she said, walking out of the kitchen without looking back.
Even in the short span of time covered by that quick handshake, Connor felt the nice warm sensation of her skin against his. He looked after the Doctor's retreating form before she disappeared behind a door at the end of the hall. Connor definitely did not want to remove the new program right away.
"Let's get moving, Connor," Hank said, heading towards the front door.
"Dr. Hill appears to be a skilled technician," Connor said, following after him. "How do you know her?"
"Yeah," Hank mumbled his discomfort. "She's my sister-in-law."