XXX
|November 5, 2038|
|6:30 PM|
It was an incredibly brisk, cold November day. The cold nipped and bit at her nose and lips, turning her cheeks red. A scarf was thrown around her neck, a hat on her head, and gloves on her hands, all made of white wool to match her purple coat. The cold didn't stop her from barking out "Sime!" in a strict voice, however, drawing the attention of the dog that was sniffing around at the other end of the park. It pricked its black ears as it processed her order. Its body tensed, ready.
"Down!" she barked, smiling broadly when the German Shepherd dropped to the earth, head still up and attention entirely on her. She nodded a curt approval, tucking long strands of platinum blonde hair out of her eyes and beneath her white hat. She gave it a few minutes and then called, "Alright, good boy, Sime! Come!"
Sime lurched forward with a bark. She greeted him with a warm smile, dropping to her knees to hug him when he squirmed at her feet, whining and whimpering. "Good boy," she hummed to him, crooning almost. "Good boy, Sime." She kissed the fur on his head and then held the ball in her hand up, catching his attention. He tensed, ready. "Go!" she shouted, throwing the ball away from her.
Sime lunged for it with a high-pitched bark of excitement and entirely amused, Priscilla "Prisca" Scott laughed and tucked her hands into her pockets, watching as the android dog flung himself after the ball. She loved him. And she knew, no matter what people said, he loved her, too. The way he perked up whenever she came around, when she came home from a long day of work…when he'd put his head in her lap during her pained, exhausted moments…
People could say what they wanted about the deviant androids, but she had known from the moment she'd been gifted Sime that he was alive.
Sime woofed around the ball as he came running back with the ball in his mouth. She took the slimy mess from his mouth and hurled it again, watching as he tore after it. Her mind drifted to the subject of her new case. As a homicide detective, she was used to seeing death every day. She was used to solving cases involving death. But this…a case involving a deviant android that had murdered the one who'd purchased it? That would be new. She was intrigued enough that she'd not complained about having to go out into the field when she'd already been dealing with exhaustion from another fifteen-hour shift she'd found herself on.
She threw the ball a third time. Sime retrieved it. She was just preparing to throw it a fourth when Sime suddenly tensed, his entire body on alert as he growled. His gaze locked onto something behind her. Prisca looked over her shoulder, curious.
An android stood there. She could tell immediately what he was by the glowing blue band on his right arm, a matching triangle over the left side of his chest. Both gave it away, even if the LED in his temple didn't. She didn't recognize the model, although she couldn't read what he was from this far away. He stood beside the chain-link fence that led into the tiny park she often visited with Sime, waiting patiently for her to notice him. Rather than standing with his hands clasped, doing nothing as any other android might have done, however, he was playing with a coin of sorts, flicking it this way and that.
"Huh," she muttered. "Go ahead, Sime."
Sime was a good judge of character. He'd let her know what he thought of the guy and then she'd proceed from there. Sime bounded over to say hello and she was startled when he bent a little to pat the dog on the head in greeting. Sime wagged his tail and that was enough. Clearing her throat to catch his attention as she made her way over, Prisca called, "Sime, come!"
Sime returned to her side with a whine of protest. He liked the guy then. Interesting. Really interesting. He straightened as she approached, and it was only when she'd stopped that she could see what model he was. RK800 read the numbers and letters on his suit jacket. He looked familiar up close, she realized. She squinted up at him. He was much taller than she was. But he still reminded her of a puppy of sorts as he said pleasantly, "Hello, Detective Scott. My name Is Connor. I'm the android sent by CyberLife."
"Nice to meet you. Prisca Scott, though I guess you knew that. The dog is mine. His name is Sime." She offered her hand, which Connor hesitantly shook. Maybe the androids didn't think they were alive, but she'd certainly treat them as such anyways. "Can I ask what CyberLife sent an android for?"
Connor looked relieved to get down to the point so quickly. "You were assigned a case earlier today: a homicide, involving a CyberLife android. In accordance with procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators." He offered a tiny smile that she thought was rather fake, although she didn't blame him for that. His coding wouldn't have allowed more.
She was fascinated by the idea of deviancy, she'd realized upon being assigned the case. How an android could go to servant and blank-minded piece of plastic not coded to be emotional although they were supposed to be intelligent to a disastrous emotional creature was fascinating, and she'd immediately latched on, wanting to learn more. Perhaps she'd just found her source of primary information.
"I understand that some are not comfortable in the presence of androids," Connor continued, "but I am- "
"Oh, no, I'm fine with androids," she said, catching him by surprise. He looked a little startled, amusing her. This android thought he was excluded from deviancy, but even now, he was far more emotional than other androids she'd seen. "I mean, I'm not really fond of anyone people wise, but I've got no qualms working with you. It'll be interested getting to work with a specialized model." She clipped a leash to Sime's collar, ruffling his ears. "I'm assuming you want me to take you to the crime scene?"
"Yes," he said firmly, nodding curtly.
"Sounds good, let me take Sime home first though. Can't bring him, sadly." She dropped the leash. "Sime," she ordered, "car." He took off without looking at her, heading out of the park with a happy whine. Connor watched him go curiously. Smirking at him, Prisca winked. "He likes care rides. Do you like car rides, Connor?"
He debated for the briefest of moments, analyzing her. "Yes," he answered finally.
Her grin widened. "You're just saying that because of some coding telling you to make me like you."
"No, I like cars," he declined hastily. She threw her head back and laughed at him, pleased with the response she'd gotten.
"Come on, Connor, let's go take a look at a dead man, shall we?" she said, winking again. Curious Connor let her lead him to her vehicle.
She loved her old loud truck. She knew a lot of people preferred the sleek new models that were autonomous, but she adored driving her truck as it roared down the street. To Prisca, driving was a calming activity. She could play around with the radio like she'd done as a child versus what she'd seen children doing now a days: shouting at the cars over their parents' voices.
It didn't take Prisca too long to drop her dog off at home and then get her and Connor moving towards the crime scene. As she drove, she glanced his way, her elbow propped on the window and her head in her palm. She studied him for a moment before returning her eyes, blue as the sky, to the road. "Hey, Connor," she said suddenly. He looked to her, waiting. "What model are you? What were you designed for specifically?"
"He didn't seem concerned about the question at all. "I'm a RK800," he said simply, as if it were a fact he gave out every day – as if it wasn't displayed on his suit. "I'm a prototype designed by CyberLife to interact and deal with deviant androids."
"Huh," she said under her breath, squinting again. Prototype meant there was only one, which meant she'd not see him running around Detroit…then where the hell had she seen Connor before?
It smacked her so hard that she nearly swerved right off the road, earning a startled look from Connor.
He'd been there. He'd been the one she'd watched, eyes bleared with pain, on that rooftop. He'd been the one to talk the android down from throwing himself and his young hostage down to the streets thousands of feet below. He'd been the one who'd done what the humans couldn't, the one to put that damn tourniquet on her leg.
"Holy shit," she breathed, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "You're the one from August, right?" He waited for more clarification, so she gave it. "The one who talked the hostage right out of a deviant's hands."
"Yes," he said simply. "That was a case I took part in."
"Huh. Huh." Prisca was stunned – and delighted. But she said nothing about the matter, even as he gave her a curious look, interested in why she'd be so excited about such a matter. He was still looking at her strangely a few minutes later, when she pulled her car up on the curb beside the house that had been taped off. She scowled at the sight of the news crews and curious people around. "Ugh, this is going to be a mess…come on, Connor."
He ducked out of the car, pausing to wait until she'd joined him on the other side of the car, and together, they crossed the street. The second their feet touched the grass on the other side, the journalists were in her face, flashing camera lights filling her eyes and blinding her. Connor looked startled by them. Prisca navigated them expertly, walking through them as if she did this every day. She ducked around a few bystanders who'd become nosy and come to look, shouting questions and words that made her wince sometimes. A police android stepped aside to let her past. She was about to make a beeline for the house when she heard a voice declare, "Androids are not permitted beyond this point."
Understandable, with what had happened, Prisca supposed. She looked back and found Connor had been stopped. He looked almost insulted, which made her grin. Snorting softly, she called, "He's with me."
The police android glanced over his shoulder at her and then stepped aside to let Connor past. Connor hurried after her, "When we're inside," she told him, climbing the steps to the front porch, "I want you to stick close, okay? The cops aren't a big fan of androids right now, and if something goes down, I wouldn't put it past some of them to take advantage of the situation and shoot you."
"My life is of no concern," Connor informed her. "My model will merely be replaced by a new one and my memory will be uploaded into the next Connor."
"First of all, that's creepy as fuck, and I really don't want to hear anything about that kind of thing ever again," Prisca replied, putting her hands on her hips. "And second of all, whether you're replaced or not, I don't want to see someone I'm working with shot, android or human. If you get shot, we're not working together and CyberLife are going to have to get over it, are we clear?"
Connor studied her closely before nodding. "Yes, Detective."
"Prisca," she corrected. "Call me Prisca." Prisca spun on her heel and headed inside. A police officer met them right in the entrance. The house was like a lot of other Detroit homes: beat up and old. It was one story, and reeked of the smell of decaying flesh. She peered around as the officer explained to them that most of the evidence was in the nearby kitchen. Connor was like a constant shadow as she did a quick up and down search of the hall before slipping into the next room.
"Oh, disgusting," she muttered as they stepped into it, covering her mouth and nose with her hand. Connor didn't react at all; she wasn't surprised, although she did wonder if he could smell as well as she could.
Another officer recognized her and grinned. He was kind enough, with a weathered face and dark eyes. Ben, she recalled despite not often interacting with the other officers. "Hey there, Prisca," he said warmly in greeting. "We were starting to think you weren't going to show. Pretty sight, eh?" he added, nodding at the corpse on the ground, slumped against the wall behind a couch that had been shoved aside.
Prisca threw Ben a tight smile and said, "Sorry, Ben. Was a little stressed. I had a long night and was out with my dog when I heard. Had to take Sime back to the house before I came. But look. I'm here now, and I brought my new partner." She patted Connor's arm playfully, earning a confused look for her action. "Bet you didn't see that coming. So. What's going on?"
Ben eyed Connor suspiciously, not at all pleased that an android was now on the crime scene, but merely jerked his chin towards the gray-skinned corpse. "Got a call around eight from the landlord. He said his tenant hadn't paid his rent for a few months, so he thought he'd drop by and see what was going on." Ben shifted his weight a little, thoughtful. "That's when he found the body. Jesus, that smell," he groaned, making a face. "Was even worse when we opened the windows…anyways, the victim's Carlos Ortiz. Had a record for theft and aggravated assault." Prisca nodded, making note of that. "According to the neighbors, he was kind of a loner. Stayed inside most of the time and they never really saw him."
"Alright, so he's a special kind of prick more than likely," Prisca said, making a face. She knelt beside the body without an ounce of hesitation, studying it closely. The stab marks…there were several. "About three weeks, right? We'll know more when the coroner shows up I guess…murder weapon?"
"My money's on the blood-soaked kitchen knife over there," Ben replied, gesturing to a knife set on a coffee table. "And check out the writing overhead."
Suddenly, Connor spoke. He'd stood over her shoulder, studying the body. "He was stabbed twenty-eight times."
Prisca glanced up at him. His face was serious and thoughtful as he studied the corpse quickly, analyzing information she was willing to bet she'd have missed in a heartbeat. "Damn," she muttered. "The killer really had it in for him..." Prisca tipped her head back and studied the writing on the wall. It looked as if it had been written in blood. I am alive, it read. Android, she'd bet. She frowned. Why would it write such a thing after murdering the human? Interesting. "Hey, Connor, is it written in the victim's blood?"
"Yes," Connor confirmed from somewhere behind her. He'd moved away to investigate something else while she was focused on the corpse. She spared a glance over her shoulder to see and found him knelt beside the murder weapon. Shrugging, she glanced to Ben when he started speaking.
"We're taking samples for analysis and there's some Red Ice that Chris is taking some samples of over there for analysis." He jabbed a finger in the direction of the mentioned officer, scowling. "Fucking Red Ice…we find it everywhere. Anyways, seems like he was – what the fuck are you doing?"
Prisca spun around in time to see Connor touch two fingers to his tongue. He glanced back in the middle of the action, confused on what he'd done wrong. When he pulled his hand back, she saw the gleam of blood on his fingers. Her jaw dropped. "What the fuck, Connor?!" she snapped, caught by surprise.
He dropped his hand, startled by the reaction he'd received. "I was analyzing the blood. I can check samples in real time. I'm sorry, I should have warned you." He stood in one smooth movement, flicking blood drops from his fingers. She flinched in disgust.
"You…" Prisca was speechless. "Connor. Seriously. You can't just stick blood from a murder victim in your mouth, it's disgusting! Fuck." She shuddered, feeling a little ill. She found herself rather fond of him, but this…she wasn't sure she could stand seeing that on a regular basis. "Can't you analyze some other way?"
"No," Connor said, blinking once. "I'm sorry, Prisca, if this upsets you."
Was that snark in his tone? She squinted at him, suspicious. He was definitely a little more reactive than most androids. Prisca couldn't say she minded, but it was odd that CyberLife would send an android that seemed more likely to deviate than any other to assist in an investigation to put a stop to it all.
"Sure you are," Prisca replied with a suspicious look on her face. Her attention went to the amused Ben. "Go on," she grumbled, ordering he and the other cops out. "I've got the scene under control now, you mocking asshole." She turned away as Ben chuckled but left with half of the police in the house, meandering over to peer out a cracked windowpane at the yard in the back of the house. Taking a deep breath, she said suddenly, "Well, since you've…analyzed it why don't you tell me what you found in the blood, Connor?" When there was no response, she looked over her shoulder and found that Connor was nowhere to be found, but the door to the backyard had been thrown open. A cool breeze washed through the room as Prisca made her way over.
Connor was standing at the edge of a cement step, staring at the wet ground. "The door was locked from the inside," he told her, not looking back at her as he scanned the area. "The killer couldn't have come this way. There are no footprints apart from Officer Collins's size ten shoes."
Prisca was more curious than she was annoyed that he'd made such an assumption. Rather than protesting that he couldn't have known, she simply said, "Explain."
"This type of soil would have retained a trace," Connor answered. "Nobody's been out here for some time."
"I see. Thank you." Prisca stepped out of the doorway and back. "Now come on in before you get soaked and ruin some of the evidence." Connor glanced back at her, blinked, and then followed her in. He gave his head a firm shake, and Prisca sputtered when she was sprayed with water that had soaked into his hair. "Watch it," she muttered before heading for the kitchen – the apparent start of this mess.
"Back to your disgusting habit – what are you doing now?" she demanded when she realized his gaze was zipping around the room, the LED in his temple blinking yellow. She'd never understood how those lights worked. But she knew that it was different then his normal blue.
Connor finished whatever he was doing before answering. "I was reconstructing the situation. I believe I know what happened now."
"Alright then." She folded her arms, cocking her head. He looked at her. "Tell me. Let's see how good you are."
Connor went quiet, considering how to word his answer. Finally, he told her, "It started in the kitchen, where the victim attacked the android with a bat." She stared at him in shock; she'd not even known just yet that there was a bat! "The android stabbed the victim, who then fled to the living room. The android followed and murdered him."
Prisca dropped her arms, sorrow crossing her mind – and disgust with the victim close behind. She spat at the ground, scowling. "He was just defending himself," she muttered. "He was just fighting back against abuse. And we're hunting him like he's a cold-blooded killer."
"He killed a human," Connor said firmly, clasping his hands behind his back. "Self-defense or not, he is a murderer."
Rather than getting into an argument with a mission-oriented android, Prisca spun on her heel. "So, tell me where it went." She paused. "If you know."
"The android would have been damaged by the bat and lost some thirium," he reported. His gaze skimmed the room as if seeking something she couldn't see. "You call it blue blood. It's the fluid that powers our biocomponents. It evaporates after a few hours and becomes invisible to the naked eye."
Her lips quirked. "Oh? And let me take a quick guess…you can see it, can't you?"
"Yes," Connor confirmed. His eyes were traveling slowly around the room tracing a path of action that Prisca couldn't see. And then he was moving. Prisca trailed after him now, the android and human switching spots as Connor took hold of a chair and dragged it along with him.
"What are you doing?" Prisca said as he set the chair down and promptly stood atop of it. He spun in a careful circle before shoving at a panel of ceiling above him. She realized where he was going a moment later. There was an attic they'd not thought of above their heads. And if the deviant hadn't left, then it was likely up there.
"You're not going up there without me," she said suddenly, grabbing at his suit jacket when he reached up to haul himself into the attic. "You better drag me up there with you, Connor."
Connor glanced down at her, seeming to consider what to do. On one hand, having the detective up there would mean that he'd have help cornering the deviant. On the other hand, he'd seen what deviant androids were capable of when at high stress levels. He narrowed his eyes a little as he considered what the chance of Prisca remaining behind would be.
Little to nothing, he realized after a brief second of processing the information.
So, Connor nodded. Prisca let go of him. She stepped away as he heaved himself up into the attic and then carefully stepped onto the chair herself. Connor knelt at the top and stretched an arm down to help her, effortlessly lifting her up into the attic alongside him. Checking her gun, Prisca breathed, "Thanks. Which way?"
She watched that LED light flicker in the dim lighting of the attic, turning yellow as he analyzed the area around them. Finally, he gestured in a direction. She nodded to herself and indicated that he should take that path. She'd go around the other side and ensure that it didn't have a way out.
Connor ducked around a piece of furniture and the hunt was one.
Prisca followed the wall beside her, scarcely breathing for fear of chasing the deviant out too soon. She didn't agree with deactivating the poor thing for simply defending itself. Had it been human, they wouldn't have hesitated to forgive the crime, even provided services to help with the clear trauma that had caused the event. But it wasn't human, and it killed her that part of her job now was to bring it in for questioning. At least to confirm what Connor had claimed had happened, no matter how closely he'd followed the evidence.
It was a tense few minutes before Connor's voice suddenly called, "Prisca! It's here!" She blinked. That was fast. She ducked around the last few pieces of furniture and then stepped into a small patch of light that swathed Connor and the miserable android standing there. His face turned to her, smeared with dried blood.
Shock crossed her face at the sign of all the damage that had been dealt by the bat. She could see machinery at work beneath the exterior of the android. It was crying silently, looking at her through pained, terrified eyes.
In that moment, despite the clear visual evidence that it was a machine, Prisca thought the android was more human than Ortiz had been.
The last chapter I'll release until I've finished writing! Like I said, it follows the storyline and I used a transcript, so. :)
Sime's name is pronounced "Sim-ee."
Thanks to those who favorited and followed! I truly appreciate you! :D
