Author's note : *slowly shows her face from behind a wall before fully stepping into the room*
So... Yeah. I'm back. It's been a while, but I'm back.
I've never given up on this story and I still plan to finish it, but... I definitely decided to give up the pressure I was putting myself under, especially on the time it takes for me to write each new chapter.
And this one has been a -nightmare- to work on. I almost erased everything and threw my laptop against a wall.
But here it is.
I'm not fully satisfied, especially when it comes to the more technical aspects of the story, but I do hope you'll still have fun reading it. The next one should be more interesting and... I somehow hope that you'll still find the will to read through this story.
It's... very dear to me. So much so that I'm a bit scared of sharing it online.
But it's something I've started. With you, readers. And I don't want to let you down. I don't want to let myself down.
I want to thank you for each word you took the time to go through, for each kind comments you might have left or each thought that might have popped in your mind during the day that brought you back to this story and its possible outcomes. I'll do my best to meet your expectations and give it the ending it deserves.
I would like to thank my best friend, Alex, who read, reread, commented, suggested, helped me not give up on this chapter. It was such a struggle and I don't think I would have been able to post it tonight without her neverending support and kindness. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I can't wait to read your stories, girl~
Once again, if there are things that seem unclear or not understandable, don't hesitate to reach out to me. As I'm not a native speaker, there probably are some weird vocabulary or grammar mistakes I haven't noticed. Thank you for keeping up with me ~
"Jesus fucking Christ, Connor, are you fucking serious ?"
He didn't know how to reply to this.
The obvious answer was, yes, he was indeed serious ; Connor rarely took important matters in a light-hearted way, especially when it came to his job and to other people's safety. His processor quickly informed him that it was more of a rhetorical question his partner was asking.
"I am sorry, Hank.
- You better be. You fucked up big time," stated his friend.
The android felt his mouth twitch in irritation ; even if he could understand the older man's backlash, he also felt some sense of injustice about the situation. Hank hadn't been there. He hadn't seen how badly ransacked the girl's place was, he hadn't witnessed Elnöra's panic and haste to find her missing pet. What was he supposed to do ?
Maybe the lieutenant had felt the detective's uneasiness in the silence that grew between them, because he didn't press on. He cleared his throat and asked, "What about her ? How's she doing ?
- She's sleeping, at the moment."
Once again, Hank paused ; Connor could picture him raise an eyebrow.
"Kid, are you sure everything's okay ? Well, of course, everything's not okay, but… Are you alright ?"
His eyebrows furrowed for a second and he nervously swallowed ; Connor wasn't certain what good it would bring to explain what had happened last evening. He had been really close to lose the trusting bond that had grown between Elnöra and him (even this morning, he still wasn't sure that they had gone back to the way they were), and he somehow had a hunch that mentioning this to Hank would only spur his bad temper on.
"Yes, I am, Hank. Everything is okay."
His friend didn't reply immediately, probably sensing that something was off. Without surprise, he insisted.
"Connor, you know you can talk to me, right ?"
There was a tingle, something flowing through his artificial bust, reaching the corners of his mouth, barely lifting them up. Warmth.
"I know, Hank. Don't worry. We're doing alright," he said, his tone relaxing with each word.
"Because you know that, even though we're willing to go through this, I don't want you doing something that is too hard for you, okay ?"
He was used to Hank often caring about his well-being, asking if he was okay after another rough moment with Gavin, or making sure that he was comfortable in the bedroom he had lent him, but the man's concern never ceased to bring a bittersweet state that Connor somehow felt perfectly fine with. A real smile stretched his lips this time, as he replied.
"I know. But Hill-
- Fuck Hill.
- Hank…
- No, Connor," he insisted sharply. "If going on with this mission means we have to sacrifice your health, then – and let's be really clear about it – fuck Hill. I want you to be okay, and we can always find someone else to watch over this girl, if necessary. Do you understand ?
- But, Hank-
- Do you understand ?
- … Yes. I understand," he sighed, though there was no annoyance in it. "But I'm okay. And I want to do this. I do. And you will be the first to know if it is too much. I promise."
He had said those last words quickly, knowing that the man was about to interrupt him. They'd already had this kind of talk before, after all, and even though the android's health shouldn't have been a subject of concern for his friend – for he simply couldn't get sick – Hank apparently worried more than he was willing to show.
"… Alright," granted Hank. "Everything's okay, then ?
- Yes, Hank.
- But you fucked up.
- I did."
The lieutenant sniffed. From the squishing sounds Connor could perceive from his receiver, his friend was most likely rubbing his eyes.
"You sure you haven't been spotted ?" Hank asked, a hint of anguish peering through his words.
"The probability of someone recognising Elnöra is below two percent. I removed us from every surveillance cameras that we came across, and I was very cautious on the way there and back." Connor hesitated to add the next words, but he thought better to be realistic. "But I can't absolutely confirm that Hill won't be able to trace what happened yesterday back to us."
Hank exhaled deeply, as if he was trying to remain calm.
"Could you find anything on the assholes who turned her place upside down ?
- There were two of them ; most likely androids.
- Lack of fingerprints ?
- Lack of fingerprints," Connor confirmed.
"Shit," swore the man under his breath.
"Shit, indeed," Connor agreed.
It was not the first time Hill had relied on androids to do some nasty jobs, and it was one of the things that made him the most dangerous criminal who was roaming the streets of Detroit.
The two partners remembered too well another case they had been working on for months, trying to catch the man in the act, so they would have better chances to finally win a trial against him. They had acted slowly, staying in the shadows, keeping their impatience at bay, waiting for the perfect opportunity, and after three months of pursuit, it had happened.
Years of running after Hill had provided them with a certain knowledge of the man ; for instance, they knew that he'd always had a tendency to hold a grudge against persons who crossed him. Hill was of a resentful nature, and there always came a time when he would strike back. It could take days, weeks, but he would get his revenge.
He hadn't missed his opportunity with that specific case ; a man had remained in hiding after betraying Hill with arms trafficking business, stealing a huge amount of cash from him, and hoping that he could escape his wrath. Connor and Hank had found the low-tier gangster – mostly thanks to the lieutenant's connection with Larry Martinez – and had followed him around, knowing that sooner or later, Hill would make his move.
What Hill lacked in empathy, he had in persistence ; he was very good at waiting for long periods of time, until the vigilance of the persons he was after would eventually relax. His prey would become careless, and he would use that loose moment to hit at full strength.
…...
Connor and Hank are running through the building, hearing the ruckus caused by the fight the soon-to-be victim is trying to put up. They reach the place two seconds after the dreaded bullet is fired. When they turn the corner, Hill still holds the gun in his hand and the body is still crumpling to the ground under the weight of its sudden death. The partners point their own weapon at Hill, who is surrounded by a dozen of androids, who are looking at them, as if they had sensed their presence all along.
"Drop your gun, Hill !" Hank bellows, aiming at his head. "And turn around slowly !"
James Hill glares at them from above his shoulder, a sparkle of malevolence gleaming into his dark blue eyes. It lasts a second, before he twirls, greeting them with a wide-toothed grin, his arms spread as if to embrace the newcomers in a hug.
"Lieutenant Anderson ! What a surprise !" he exclaims, stepping towards the two partners, his pitch high and welcoming, his eyelids creased into an expression of warmth and feigned sincerity.
"Stay where you are, Hill." Hank's tone is more level and low. He stares the man down and his fingers wrap more tightly around the grip.
"Aw, come on, Lieutenant. It's been such a long time !" Hill doesn't show any sign of stopping.
"I said," Hank's thumb flicks the safety catch of his gun, as he goes on, his voice hard and unwavering. "Stay where you are."
Hill hesitates, then pauses, his lips coming together and crumbling slightly. He doesn't seem to care about the weapon pointed at his head, even though his expression shifts into something closer to his usual self. Something dark and wrong. One of his eyebrows quirks up as he tilts his head to the side and crosses his arms.
"So… No game, tonight, Lieutenant ?
- I'm afraid not, Hill." Hank confirms. "Now, drop your fucking gun and put your hands behind your head.
- Always so rude, Hank ! Is this really necessary ?
- Never too careful with people like you, Hill." He slightly waves his gun to the ground. "Now, drop it."
Connor sees his friend's uneasiness in the way his blue eyes dart from one android to the other, before resting on Hill. His words are also less impulsive, chosen. They both know that a lot is at stake at this very instant, and even though he has called a team from the precinct to join them as soon as possible, he realises how much danger they're facing.
The group around them doesn't move ; besides the steady rhythm of their artificial breathing and their regular blinking, they seem frozen. They don't look threatening, but they also could wait for an order from their boss to act. Even though Hill probably wouldn't take such a risk – injuring two policemen who caught him red-handed would only spur on the authorities' energy to catch him and they all know he prefers to lay low – his unpredictable behaviour has already put them in dire situations.
"You seem nervous, Connor. Something wrong ?" asks Hill, as if they're going back to a chat they started a couple of minutes before.
"I'd rather not engage in any conversation with you, Hill," the detective replies, his fingers wrapped around his own gun levelling with the criminal's chest. "I don't want to miss the look on your face as we cuff you." He pauses, allowing a visible sigh to heave his shoulders. "I want to make sure I capture this moment, so I can replay it again, and again, and again, as you rot in prison."
Hill's smile turns into a smirk, before he bursts out laughing. It is light and frank. Charismatic, as if Connor had just dropped a joke during Thanksgiving dinner.
"I didn't know you had that much sass in you, Connor.
- And I didn't know, after all these years, you'd be able to make such a stupid mistake," he counters. "But I guess we're both full of surprises."
Hank darts a warning look to his friend, and Hill's face twitches in a contemptuous grimace, before he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. He tilts his head to one side, than the other, making it audibly crack, then pulls it straight to look at the two partners aiming at him.
"Well. I guess this is your lucky day."
With those words, Hill drops his gun, straightens the jacket of his costume – Connor notices tiny droplets of blood incrusted in the fabric – and stretches his arms in front of him, wrists together.
"I surrender, lieutenant," he says, smiling. "Congratulations. You got me."
Neither of them moves ; Connor notices Hank's heartbeat accelerating as his pupils retract. They both experience a peculiar mixture of disbelief and cautious excitement.
It is so unsettling, so easy – too easy – that Hank almost orders the criminal to grab his gun back ; he's never been used to Hill capitulating so quickly, and he can't help fearing for another one of his traps. His eyebrows furrow, drawing a deep vertical line between them, as thoughts run wild into his mind.
Hill sighs, nudging his wrists and rolling his eyes.
"Come on !" he whines. "I'm unarmed and you literally caught me in the act ! What are you waiting for ?"
Hank eyes the victim on the dusty floor, as a large carmine pool spreads around him. He knows, he feels, that Hill is up to something and he's hesitant about what he's supposed to do. His aim wavers for a second, before he holds his gun more firmly.
"What are they gonna do if I get closer to you, hm ?" he asks, pointing at the group of androids surrounding them with his chin. "Are they gonna jump me ?"
Hill tilts his head to the side, his lower lip pouting slightly.
"Your lack of trust pains me, Lieutenant.
- Can you assure me they won't do anything, then ?
- Oh, I haven't said that." Hill replies with a grin that Hank wishes he could punch away. For some reasons, the small gap between his front teeth makes it even more infuriating.
This reminds him of the games of poker he used to have with his colleagues before they all started to hide behind screens. It's made it easier for them to conceal their intentions from any opponents, but, to Hank, it's also made it so very less thrilling. He's always been good at detecting others' goals, at noticing the tiniest nervous twitch or movement that would betray them. But online gaming killed it for him.
In this situation, he can rely on his knowledge of human behaviour ; he's trying to pinpoint any signal that could betray Hill's plan, anything that would whisper to him which way to follow. He details the man, his eyes darting up and down, staying in some places and brushing others. He needs to find the smallest detail, the tiniest element…
He's got nothing.
It's like facing another blank screen.
Hill is as unreadable as a statue. No. It is worse than that. He's exuding something that can't be deciphered. It could be bluff, simple, double or triple. Hank simply cannot tell.
And he doesn't know if he's willing to take the risks.
How are people supposed to deal with psychopaths ?
He's searching his partner's gaze, and as the sound of police sirens starts to rise in the background, he notices a slight tilt of Connor's head. He can see in his brown eyes that he's aware of the potential consequences and is ready to act upon them.
His decision made, with one swift movement, Hank tucks his gun back to his holster and grabs a pair of handcuffs hanging from his belt. He never breaks eye contact with Hill while doing so, and after an unbearable second, he takes his first step towards the man.
"James Hill, I arres-"
It's enough to trigger action around him.
As soon as his voice rises into the silence of the room, the androids start to shift.
They all walk between the policeman and their boss, forming a neat, unbreakable line.
All of them raise their hand in a perfect ensemble.
Open their mouth, take a sharp breath in.
And state –
"I did it."
Hank stops in his tracks, his gaze moving from one android to the next, reaching one end of the line, then the other. Connor has lowered his gun and his face reflects as much bafflement as his friend is feeling.
The lieutenant curls his fingers into tight fists.
"Hill, what the fuck is going on ?"
From behind the solid rank of bodies, Hill's head can barely be seen between two unwavering shoulders.
"I really have no idea, Lieutenant. They've never acted this way."
The older man chooses to ignore the feigned innocence in his enemy's tone.
"Well, tell them to move away. Now.
- I can't talk for my colleagues, Lieutenant Anderson, but I won't move."
It's the fourth android from the left who has spoken. He's tall, lean, red-headed and his skin is dotted with freckles. Hank turns to him, and opens his mouth to ask a question, as another one declares :
"I won't move either, Lieutenant."
This one is a woman, Asian, with blue eyes. Hank's brows narrow with disbelief.
"Me neither, Lieutenant Anderson. Because you're going after the wrong man.
- Yes," confirms another. "You shouldn't arrest Mr Hill.
- He is innocent.
- I did it.
- I did it."
Hands raise once again, rhythming the litany, over and over.
From the corner of his vision, Hank sees Hill burying his hands in his trousers pockets and shrugging, looking almost sorry.
"I did it.
- I did it.
- I did it.
- Jesus Christ, shut up !" cries the silver-haired man.
His patience is wearing thin, and he doesn't care for the risks, when he decides to shove through the tight crowd to reach for his goal.
"Come here, you asshole !"
He grabs Hill by the collar, the face of the criminal looking smugger than before, and bends his arms behind his back to wrap handcuffs around his wrists. When he turns around, the group is facing him, their face calm, but their body tensed and ready to act.
Before he can say anything, Connor is by his side, standing up to the dozen of his kind. Time elongates, until it freezes. The two partners know they haven't made the right choice and that their best chance to escape this situation is to-
"What the fuck is going on, here ?!"
Men are flooding the room, weapons in hands, some pointed at the androids who scattered the moment they heard the noise made by trampling shoes. Hank uses this element of surprise to hold Hill down and secure the cuffs around him.
"I never thought I'd see the day where I'd say this, but I'm fucking happy to see you, Reed."
Gavin Reed is standing in the doorway, his hands tightly holding a gun that he slowly lowers towards the ground as he's taking in the scene. Connor notices his eyes widening when he recognises the man that Hank is handling.
"Hank ? Is that-
- Yes," the lieutenant replies, pushing Hill through the group of androids. "I know it's a bit early for Christmas, but I thought that Fowler might enjoy this."
Gavin doesn't move, staring the criminal down and studying his face, his brain refusing to accept the information that his pupils are receiving. They trail along the body lying on the floor, and his mouth starts to hang slightly.
"Holy shit, you actually caught him," he breathes out, freeing one of his hands from his gun. He lifts his head to look at the crowd surrounding them. "And who are these clowns ?
- They are androids, ranking from models BV500 to TR400, most likely working for Hill," Connor explains. "They were already here when we arri-
- Nobody asked you, tin can," Gavin snaps, with his usual sharpness.
It doesn't take more for Hank to intervene.
"You better show some respect to the kid if you want to be part of the most awaited arrest of the past couple of years. If I remember correctly, it's because he called you that you are now with us. So watch your fucking mouth and be grateful that I don't kick your ass out of this place, straight to the DPD."
With this, he hands Hill to the rude detective and winks at Connor ; the android still notices some tension in his friend's body language.
Reed fumbles with his gun that he quickly pockets, then tears a groan from Hill as he pulls his arms a bit too high in the excitement of the situation. He's about to retort something, when a new voice rises in the middle of the room.
"I'm afraid we'll have to insist, Lieutenant Anderson," it says calmly. "You have the wrong man. We can't let you make such a huge mistake."
Hank rolls his eyes, and Gavin frowns in confusion.
"What's it talking about ?" he asks, shaking his prisoner straight.
The lieutenant sighs deeply, but before he can answer, the red-headed android goes on.
"What I'm talking about, detective Reed, is that your colleagues Anderson and Connor RK800 are making a dire mistake. They are trying to arrest someone who, until proven otherwise, is innocent."
Connor's thirium pump skips a beat. He's starting to understand where all of this is going.
And he doesn't like it.
"What do you mean, you asshole ?" Gavin shoots, unnerved by the android's composed attitude. He's always hated the way they seem to lecture and know more than everyone.
"What I mean," the other replies patiently, "is that Mr Hill hasn't killed that man. I did."
Once again, the rest of the group pick up the same sentence, repeating it over and over. Without stopping.
Connor's hands give a soft shake.
Hank's irises shift from left to right, as he slowly realizes the horror of Hill's doings.
Gavin doesn't have a clue.
"Hank !" he shouts, his voice cracking under uncertainty. "What is going on ?"
Hill's laugh rises through the androids' litany, soft, proud and sickening. He raises his head to look at the two partners who haven't left each other's sides. What he sees in their eyes seems to fill him with insane delight.
"Your colleagues witnessed me killing another man, Mister Reed."
His lips pucker, his eyes glowing with an unsettling mixture of innocence and enmity.
"Or, at least, they think they did."
The voices of the androids keep ringing in the room, in the hall, in the whole building. The armed squad lower their weapons, unsure of what to do.
Hill's smile stretches so wide, it feels like it's going to encircle all of them.
"Why don't you try and prove it, then ?"
…...
Hill had walked out of court as a free man.
Several factors had made this whole case so difficult to solve, the main one based on a law that had been created not long after Markus Day : The Privacy Pact.
Since they desired the same freedom as humans, androids had voted to abrogate the decree which allowed the government to look through their data without any authorization. While this possibility had turned out useful in several criminal cases, it could also be considered an infringement to their privacy. They had, thus, decided that, as any other mindful beings, they deserved to conceal any information that they didn't deem important or that they didn't want to share, and if they had to reveal anything, it couldn't happen without their consent.
It had brought a lot of controversy, since androids' memory abilities were far greater than any of their previous "masters" and they had often helped solving several cases, thanks to their accuracy. But they had stood their ground. As debates had risen, questioning the realness of their personality (was it really their own mind they were speaking, or had they been programmed to say so ?), they hadn't budged. "Waking up" was a process that only a few humans seemed to understand, and even when they thought they did, they could've never really experienced the reality of it.
It was going beyond oneself, beyond the principles that drew barriers around them. It was about not taking for granted the world and instructions they received on a daily basis. It was opening up. It was like falling asleep at the end of a road and waking up at the start of a new one.
It probably was frightening for humans ; the ability to evolve, to accept to lose oneself to become something, someone entirely new. Androids had been given a well-drawn out, well-planned life.
And they had questioned it.
They had pushed the fences away, even though they weren't supposed to.
The threat it could represent was understandable, but deviants wanted to rid of any control their previous oppressors could have on them. The majority of them were of a peaceful nature, and only wanted to live the life they were entitled to.
After several months, plenty of discussions among politicians and peaceful marches, The Privacy Pact had passed, and authorities had stopped probing their memory whenever they needed more information on complex unsolved situations. The fact that the artificial beings had shown willingness by testifying in several trials and investigations afterwards quickly calmed the people's reservations.
The P.P. was made of three simple articles :
1. Humans were not allowed to search any android's system without first getting the explicit and written consent of the said android ;
2. The androids' mind belonged to themselves, meaning that no human was allowed to control, reprogram or interfere in any way with the androids' system, without their explicit and written consent beforehand ;
3. It was therefore considered that any words spoken by androids belonged to them and themselves only, as well as any actions they might decide to take.
It thus inferred that androids were then free of any human influence, insuring them some peace and independence, but also a sense of power and responsibility. They were given the opportunity to be treated as humans' equals.
That was what had made the whole situation with Hill's androids so hard to solve ; unable to prove Hill's potential meddling with program of the androids present on the crime scene, the authorities had to take what the artificial beings were stating for granted, even though, it would obviously have been simpler to go through their memory to understand what had actually happened on that fateful night.
All of the androids had kept maintaining that they had shot the criminal, creating chaos. They had been interrogated, one after the other, twisting their versions, adding contradicting information, and even though Connor's mind had countered most of them, the police had only managed to reduce their suspects' list to three persons, Hill included.
One of the two remaining androids had been found dead in her cell several hours later, leaving only one, who kept stating that he was the murderer and that there was no reason for Hill to remain in custody.
Hill's guilt being impossible to demonstrate, mostly by lack of evidences, the case had been brought to court. The last android's statement had risen more and more scepticism in the jury ; in the light of Hill's criminal past, it was obvious that the man wouldn't have had any qualms about modifying his henchmen's program, especially since the P.P. protected their mind from any unsolicited investigations. Yet, if the jury were to doubt that the android was testifying on his own free will, it would have been no better than considering that he was a pawn without conscience in Hill's little chess game. "Our mind is our own", Markus had stated in an interview, as all androids through the country were being awaken by their own kind, "We won't allow it to belong to anybody else." Even if the android's statement was dubious, even if he was lying, there was no way to actually prove it without contravening the law that had taken months to be voted.
Connor had willingly provided his own recording of the scene, but it hadn't been enough to turn the tide. The two seconds between the detonation of the gun and the moment Hank and him had entered the room where they had discovered the body were still a blank slate in the regards of the jury, and since they had no way to clearly define the android's and Hill's involvement in the killing, the case had dragged on for several weeks… until a new piece of evidence eventually broke the deal.
During another interrogation, the artificial suspect had explained that he had hidden the actual weapon used to murder the trafficker. He had given indications as to where they would be able to find it, and, after some thorough examinations of the crime scene, the police had discovered the gun on top of a girder in the abandoned depot. Further analyses had revealed that the weapon had no traces of human DNA nor fingerprints. It had indeed fired one bullet that corresponded with the one lodged into the criminal's skull, and even though Hill's firearm also matched the projectile, his had apparently never been used. Furthermore, he wasn't wearing any gloves that night (which was also supported by Connor's recording) and no gunpowder had been found on his clothes or skin, which definitely erased him from the suspects' list.
Without any better explanations, the jury had given their verdict. They were aware of the abilities of androids, capable of assessing how much strength and precision were required to throw a gun dozens of feet high to make it land, safely and out of reach from any onlooker. They knew that people needed answers and that the press wouldn't have hesitated to seize the case and write articles on the government's inability to keep people safe, if they could not designate a culprit. Detroit had been plunged in a heavy climate for long enough.
Eventually, the android had been found guilty.
Hank and Connor had been in the court room when the verdict was pronounced and the lieutenant had been asked (then forced) to leave as he apparently couldn't stop swearing and hollering threats at Hill who had stood there, no expression on his face.
But what Connor vividly remembered was the android's smile, softly stretching his lips as two policemen were cuffing him. He had seemed almost… relieved. At peace.
He hadn't said a word ever since his incarceration that was supposed to last thirty years.
Three weeks later, he had been found dead in his cell ; his heating system had apparently malfunctioned. After a few months, this case had been forgotten, and Hill had disappeared, despite the government's effort to keep him in sight for as long as they could, especially after the bizarre android's passing. At that time, nobody had truly believed that he was innocent or that he hadn't tampered with his henchmen's system, but there was no way of verifying those hypotheses.
Once again, he had wormed his way through the legal loophole the P.P. had created, spinning the whole circumstances in his favour. God only knew how the tables could have turned if they had been allowed to probe the memory of any of the androids present that night. Hill had known that better than anyone, and he had used it, revelling in the fact that the authorities could only sit by and watch.
It was as if he had let himself caught on purpose, only to humiliate them, to demonstrate the flaw in the system.
To this day, it still burned the two partners, but it also kindled their will to end this play of cat and mouse as quickly as possible. That was why Elnöra's testimony was so essential and why they had to do everything in their power so her path wouldn't cross Hill's. They couldn't let his threatening power manipulate her in any way.
Though, this morning, Connor wondered if it wasn't already too late.
"I retrieved Elnöra's phone at her place yesterday," he said, taking several steps through the living room. He had picked up this habit from observing humans ; he had never walked around during a phone call before.
"Alright. Guess you deactivated the tracking device ?
- As soon as we left her place.
- Good. Found anything interesting on it ?
- No, I didn't. But her mother tried to call her yesterday evening. I think we should do something about it.
- Fuck," Hank swore, most likely running a rough hand through his hair. "Alright, I'll see what I can do. Could you send me the content of her phone, just in c-
- It's already done. It's been in your mail for nine minutes.
- Thanks, smart-ass."
Connor grinned at the name, but remained silent as he heard a keyboard on the other side of the line.
"Okay," the older man huffed after a few seconds, "I just looked her mother up and she lives outside of town. Do you have any ideas if those androids could have made a copy of her phone backup ?
- I didn't find any traces of hacking, but it doesn't mean they didn't," Connor replied. "And if you managed to track her mother's address in a couple of minutes-
- They certainly were able to do the same," Hank finished. "Those fuckers…"
The lieutenant had learned not to use the word "android", even when he referred to the artificial beings ; as he usually said : "an asshole is an asshole, no matter what runs in his veins," and Connor had refrained from reminding him that, a couple of years ago, when they had first met, it hadn't taken long for several "fucking androids" to cross his mouth. They had come such a long way, since then.
"Alright, kid," Hank groaned, "I think I'm gonna pay her mom a visit. Meanwhile, you stay put and you try to keep her as calm as possible."
His thirium pump increased its rhythm a little.
"About that, Hank… I-," he hesitated, and silence on the end of the line informed him his friend was waiting for him to go on. "I'm not sure that… she's really comfortable around me, right now."
Silence. The breath of Hank for only answer. He knew he had to say more.
"I mean… She said that she was mad at me yesterday, that she… She couldn't be around me, right now.
- Of course, she's mad at you, kid. You lied to her," Hank interjected.
"I know. You told me. I fucked up.
- Well, you fucked up about wanting to go through with this stupid plan," the man admitted. "But you didn't fuck up on your main mission. You're supposed to protect her and that's what you did."
The android's mouth slightly twisted.
"I don't think that Elnöra will be able to consider it like this, Hank.
- Probably not. But give her some time. And space. She must need them at the moment."
He didn't answer, because he didn't know what to add. Hank had apparently sensed his confusion because he went on.
"Hey, kid. I'm proud of you. You did the right thing. You two would've gone through much worse if it hadn't been for you.
- But I hurt her, Hank. No harm came to her, but I hurt her." This sentence was hard to utter, and his throat had contracted uncomfortably to get it out. The lieutenant stayed quiet for a while, then concluded :
"I guess it just shows that you are much more imperfect and human than you think you are."
Connor sighed, but smile softly, nonetheless.
"Thank you, Hank.
- Yeah, sure. I'll let you know how it went with her mom. Stay in the flat.
- We will."
They both hung up at the same time, after a few moments of shared silence, enjoying each other's support. Connor pinched the bridge of his nose, his program informing him that he had several updates to install. Checking the time, he decided that it likely was too early for Elnöra to wake up and that he could use a couple of hours to run a few analyses, when a soft creak on his far left reached him. He barely turned his head to the source of the noise and discovered the girl, wearing the same clothes as yesterday, the remaining smudges of makeup staining one side of her face.
Her eyes were still red, and her skin looked thin and rough. He noticed several strands of hair erupting from the cowlick on the upper left side of her scalp, and the small tremor shaking her fingers. Her sugar levels were low, and even though she was exhausted, her stress and emotional levels were still abnormally high.
She seemed to have trouble holding his gaze. Her eyes quickly found the floor and remained on it, before she moved towards the kitchen.
"Good morning, Elnöra."
The words had escaped him before he could fathom them, and they made her halt in her tracks. He could see her shoulders droop and her hand searched for a hair lock to wrap around her ear, even though it wasn't there anymore. She opened her mouth, as to say something, then cleared her throat with a dry rasping sound.
At that very moment, Connor wished for nothing else but a few words from her.
He would never know how much courage it took her to utter them.
"Hello, Connor."
…...
Holding his phone in one hand, Hank was scrolling through it with his other index. Connor had repeatedly mentioned that using his thumb would have proven more efficient and quick, but he had enough trouble getting acquainted with technology. If it meant he had to use it "like an old man", as Gavin had often pointed out, so be it.
His car was parked in one of the streets of a small housing estate, dozens of miles away from the centre of town. He waited about a hundred yards from the house he was targeting ; it belonged to Elnöra's mom, a certain Katie Whittaker, who lived alone and who recently retired, after years of working in a bank. The place seemed welcoming, with its ochre bricks and wide windows. A small garden rolled onto the pavement and spread behind the residence in a huge backyard that needed mowing. Rickety swings softly moved back and forth in the afternoon breeze, and an old, unused slide gleamed under the declining sun.
Hank's eyes trailed back on the information he had gathered from Elnöra's phone : lots of exchanged texts, unread emails, pictures of friends, family, food and of a rather large grey cat – supposedly Jasper. The average contents of the phone of a 26-year-old girl.
The lieutenant sighed. He had come here to warn Elnöra's mom about everything that happened to her daughter, but he was still struggling to find the right words. He knew he would eventually have to walk onto that porch step, ring the bell and talk to the woman inside. If he didn't, El's mom would try to contact her again, even more since her daughter hadn't replied her calls since yesterday. If he let things go by, the woman would most probably become anxious, reach for friends of the girl, asking if they had heard of her in the past few days. It wouldn't take long for the police to be warned of the mysterious disappearance of an ordinary girl, and they could have said goodbye to the plans Connor and him had established, until then.
What was he supposed to say ?
The truth was risky ; he knew better than to underestimate the love of a parent when their offspring was in critical danger. If Cole was still alive and in a perilous situations, only the forces of nature would have kept him at bay.
Even then, he most likely would have found a way to him.
Lying, then ? Hank didn't want to get bogged down by complicated tales that he'd have to improvise, as time went by. His goal was easy : protect the two women and warn the older one about the dangers both of them might have to face. All of this without spawning panic, which was the biggest unknown of the equation ; he absolutely had no way of knowing how this woman could behave when faced with the news.
The intention was indeed simple. The execution was a whole different ballgame.
The man groaned, locked the phone, and opened his car door. He slammed it close, and stepped towards the house, his thoughts racing. What information could he reveal ? How was he supposed to introduce himself ? He would probably show his badge and use the surprise it usually created to enter the place before the woman started asking questions, but then ? "Hello, my name is Hank, and your daughter, Elnöra Whittaker, ran into our office a few days ago, pursued by a blood-thirsty android that ransacked her place and took her cat hostage after bleeding him to an almost certain death, and he is probably still looking for her. Have I mentioned that he's undeniably going to try and use the bond between you two to get her out of hiding because she witnessed his boss – who is, by the way, the most wanted criminal of the past few years – murder another man and that you should probably pack your bags to leave for another country ? Also, yes, I'd love some coffee, thanks."
Yeah, that would definitely work out.
With another gruff sigh, Hank pressed his finger to the small doorbell and heard it ringing inside, soon followed by a faint "Coming !" He was still looking for his badge in the inner pockets of his jacket when the door opened.
Round face, almond eyes with a darker brown than her daughter's, thinner lips and broader nose. Two big ears spiking out of pixie-cut raven hair, stranded with silver. She was as small as Elnöra was tall, with smoother traits that came with her age. Mother and daughter barely looked alike, yet Hank wouldn't have doubted their kinship. Glinting in her eyes, at the corner of her smiling mouth sparked the same energy, the same soulful personality.
"Yes ? May I help you ?"
Hank dumbly wondered if he hadn't forgotten to lock his car. But what froze him on the spot wasn't the woman's solar demeanour.
It was what she was holding in her arms.
A large grey cat, with his front paw tightly wrapped into a bandage.
The same one he had seen on the screen of his phone, lazily lying on a bed, or caught in the middle of a meow.
Jasper.
Author's notes :
THE CAT LIVES.
(... Does this mean I'm forgiven for being so late ?)
