It occurred to Slaine, as he and Calm unloaded the box from the back of the truck, that it felt like he was carrying a coffin. It was shaped like a human, there was something that looked like a human inside it, and he was carrying one end, while Calm carried the other. They were like pallbearers. He'd been too young when his father had died to be a pallbearer, but he'd always wondered how it would feel, how difficult it would be to carry another person to their grave. The thought was unsettling, and he shifted so that he was holding the handle in his other hand. He was not carrying a coffin, he reminded himself.

There was a minor hick-up when Calm stubbed his toe, and his side went crashing to the floor as he cursed in irritation, but for the most part, getting the human sized box into the apartment was rather easy. It wasn't nearly that heavy. Whatever emotional weight he'd imagined, hadn't been there. He happened to catch a glimpse of Calm, as they set the thing down on the floor. He couldn't tell if it was the pain in his foot, or something else that had Calm frowning so much, but Slaine shook the thought off. He quickly shuffled the things on the kitchen table off, depositing them in various other places, so that he could organize and put them away later. Once that was done, they hoisted the box back up, and gently placed it on the table. He was thankful for the flower print table cloth that he usually kept on it, but amended that he'd have to start using something other than the white one. With a white thing over the table, it almost felt like he was Dr. Frankenstein, or worse, a medical examiner.

He sighed in exasperation and shook his head. What was with him today and the morbid metaphors? He reminded himself what the psychologist had said; that he tended to expect less of himself and others around him, and that he always imagined the worst. He was probably expecting some sort of failure out of this subconsciously, and the thought made him mad. He hadn't even started, and he was already setting himself up for failure.

He looked up, and saw that Calm was looking at him. Slaine offered a sheepish smile that made it obvious he had been caught off guard, and then angled his gaze back to the coffin- BOX, in front of him.

"Go on." Calm said. "Do the honors. Let's figure this out." Calm did not sound positive about the situation, not even slightly. Slaine wondered if that frown really had been from more than his stubbed toe. Slaine was almost scared to find out, but he repeated the word 'commitment' to himself, and methodically went about opening the box. He removed the android from it and placed it gently on the table. It was sort of amazing how human it looked, how its neck stretched when he didn't hold its head properly, how its limbs sagged when they were left unattended. He thought of all those movies, with people carrying dead bodies. About how their movements flowed, how muscles didn't react. He then wanted to punch himself, violently so, because really this was not helping!

He let out an irritated growl, shook his head, and looked up at Calm. "First thing. It can't be older than 60 years, because we can pick it up. Material got much lighter at that point." Calm then reached down and carelessly flicked open the right eye. Slaine glared at his friend for being so callous, but then reminded himself, that this was an it, not a person. He looked over at the eye, and gaped. Instead of what should have been an eye, was an empty cavity. He looked up at Calm, and he did not like what he saw.

Calm's mouth was a jagged, down turned line, and his eyebrows were furrowed together. "Get me a damp wash cloth," he stated. Slaine blinked down at the gaping cavity, before scurrying off to do what he was told.

As he did, he heard Tharsis screech, and took a detour down the hallway to greet the bird. "I'm back," he said, and Tharsis chirped a "Welcome back!" at him, before fluttering over to perch on his shoulder. He nuzzled his cheek against the white parakeet, and then went about getting the wash cloth Calm had requested.

When he got back, he almost dropped the washcloth, when he saw Calm slowly removing layers of clothing. The white gloves that had been on the android's hands were long gone, and Calm was unbuttoning the cheap, gaudy, navy blue suit that had been put on the android. Slaine reminded himself that he really was associating, and fought down the embarrassment on his face. He quickly moved back to the table, and handed Calm the washcloth.

Calm offered a quick 'thanks' before he started dabbing away at the android's face. As he did, great splotches of skin tone started to rub away. Slaine blinked, and couldn't keep the scowl off his face as obvious damage started to show itself. Rusted metal and sharp edges, with paper taped to make it look like one solid piece without obvious holes. "Did they put MAKEUP on him?"

Calm nodded. "It's really common in fakes. That's why store clerks don't like people looking too much. They expect people like you to not know what you should be looking for, but the more you look, the more likely you are to notice these things." Slaine hadn't noticed, but the store keepers irritation suddenly made a lot more sense. Once Calm had satisfactorily wiped at the face, he moved onto the hand, but Slaine couldn't keep his eyes off of the android's face. The eye had been violently ripped out. He knew enough about these things, that it hadn't been through regular maintenance. He reached over, and pulled off the paper taped around the eye socket, and found that the hole around it looked suspiciously like someone had just reached in and pulled the eye out without any care for the damage it would cause. Underneath, he could see rusted wires, and knew that they had been forcibly disconnected. The thought made him sick. All around the holes were jagged patches of flaking rust. Whatever had happened, it hadn't been too recent, and no one had cared to fix it.

"Make up is way cheaper than the proper sensory skins." Calm chimed in, as he lifted up one of the android's hands, and let the whole arm thump to the table. He then reached over, and did the same thing to the other, but that arm made a very different sound. Calm frowned again. Slaine looked between the two arms, not sure why the sound had been different, until Calm reached over, and none to gently pulled the right arm clean off.

Slaine audibly gasped, and Tharsis nuzzled at him, and started nibbling on his ear, obviously noticing that he was distressed. Calm then casually thumped the appendage against the table a few times. "Plastic. This is a mannequin arm." He looked over at Slaine sadly. "Also very common." Calm then methodically removed the blue suit, being none to gentle about dumping the android back onto the table, and then reached for the wash cloth again. He dabbed at the elbow stub, and Slaine could see that the original arm had also been ripped off. There was a great deal of damage to the skin and metal frame work beneath it. Again he could see orange rust spreading like a cancer. He sighed again, and reminded himself that morbid imagery was not what he needed at the moment. Instead of the pulled cords that he had seen on the eye socket, the cords here were neatly snipped. He assumed that was so that the plastic arm could be more easily fit on, because he could see tears that indicated that they had originally been pulled off as well. Who would gorge out someone's eye, and rip off one of their arms? One of its arms, he reminded himself. Not human.

He watched as Calm wiped down the chest area, uncovering several holes, some from rust and decay, and some from punctures. Someone had violently abused this thing. Without even thinking about it, Slaine reached down, and grasped for the hand on his side. It was cold to the touch, and since he hadn't realized he'd done it, he pulled away quickly. It was only after he had, that he felt some sort of residue on his hand, and rubbed his fingers together. He looked over at Calm, who had not been gentle in rubbing down the android's chest, but had finished and was assessing the damage. He was going to need to get another washcloth soon.

"Can I have the wash cloth?" Calm looked up at him, shrugged, and handed the now dirty piece of cloth over. Gently, Slaine reached down and started rubbing at the hand, but instead of the wear and tear he'd expected, he found a word. The letters had been carved through the skin, and even into the metal plating. "Ina ho?" He looked up at Calm. "Do you know what Inaho means?"

Calm looked at him, then down at the hand, before shrugging, and turning back to the chest damage. "Could be an owner's name. Could be the robots name. Could be vandalism. Could be a retailer's signature. Could be a lot of things." Slaine watched as Calm moved around the table, to lift up the android's head, and he winced. "There's a lot of damage back here." He placed the head down, and then moved over to Slaine's side of the table.

He carelessly flicked the other eyelid open, and one dead eye peered out behind the heavy lid. It was a dark red color, like clotted blood. Calm looked at him sympathetically, and then reached for the android's neck. He felt around for a few moments, and shook his head. "No voice box." He looked over at Slaine apologetically. "I'm sorry Slaine, this is pretty bad."

Slaine looked down at the abused thing spread across his kitchen table, and looked back up at Calm. "So, it'll cost a lot more to fix then?" He asked, wincing at the thought of it. Calm's original estimate had not been small to begin with.

The sad look on Calms face was not a good sign. "No, actually. You can't fix it." He motioned to the eye. "I suspected as much, with this sort of damage, but the eye confirms it. There's only one model that was made with red eyes. They were combat models made for the interplanetary war 60 years ago." Calm's solemn face looked down on him for a few moments (he hated being shorter than EVERYONE) and Slaine fidgeted.

"So, parts will be hard to find?" He asked.

Calm shook his head. "No. It's an illegal model." He motioned towards the android. "This was made as a weapon. The only class of androids made for that purpose. You can't fix it, because we're going to scan the barcode behind its ear, it's going to be registered in the database, and the proper authorities are going to come and take it away." Calm looked down at the android, and shook his head again. "They'll ask you a few questions and you might get your money back, but that's it Slaine. No fixing it."

Slaine's eyes widened, and he looked down at the android, stretched bare and defenseless on his table. Someone had gone out of their way to cheat him, but somehow, he couldn't find himself upset about that. Not when there was something so needing in care and attention in front of him. He really had this association thing bad.

In sympathy, Calm clamped him on the shoulder. "I know, I know. The first one is always the hardest Slaine. Most people that work with androids get association at some point, but you have to remember, it's a thing. It didn't feel any pain, because androids don't feel pain. It's a thing and it doesn't need to be fixed." Calm shook his head again, and headed for the door. "I'll bring my scanner by tomorrow. You make your peace, or whatever it is you want or need to do, okay?"

"Calm"

"I know, I know, it isn't an easy thing, but at least you didn't get to know it. I tell ya, it's a million times worse when you've been interacting with it and it talks and knows you. At least-"

"Calm!" Slaine said it sharply this time, and his friend looked over at him with furrowed brows. Slaine shook his head. "He doesn't have a barcode."