I want to be home, back with him. But my fridge looks like a dead mouse starved in there, containing absolutely nothing - no remnants even remotely resembling food, only emptiness and dust. Those are the moments I wish to be an android myself, not having to worry for nourishment and simply go on with my existence. Alas, my stomach rumbles disapprovingly as I hurry past the tasty groceries, sparing them no needless attention and only grabbing prefabricated packages. I could make him cook for me, that's what I'm supposed to be doing with him, instead of running through town researching those crazy machines several days in a row. But since they already produce half finished food, why not take advantage of it? The quality of this stuff improved significantly in the recent decades.
The store is unusually desolated, although I'm not used meeting actual people while shopping, the tangible lack of androids handling mundane tasks creeps across my skin. The very first reason I left him behind. After the recent stunt Marcus pulled across the nation the hostility increased ten fold and I just can't risk him getting caught up in this mess any further.
A single glance out of the window I see the protesters searching desperately for their next victim. 'Androids ruin our country' 'Ban androids' 'Don't leave your child alone with an android' - and the like. They really believe in this bullshit, not even daring to consider that the source of their problems might lie in themselves. With just a little effort and the right specialization anyone could find a job, software developers for example are sold like hot potatoes these days.
It's perfectly normal that the employment shifts away from trivial tasks and requires people to use their brains instead of muscles. Evolution people, evolution, we can't remain in the stone age forever, beating wheels out of stone with brute force.
My attention gets swayed by a small store unit, flying happily towards me, finally have found a target to spill its countless functions upon. The drone peeps a cheery sound in greeting and my frown gets replaced by a smile I just can't suppress.
"Hey cuty, can you help me find the cheapest and most nutritious instant food in this store?" They're nowhere near as smart as proper computers, but it understands my question and promptly beckons me to follow, floating patiently right before the corner of the shelves.
I don't know the brand of the package, containing frozen fish and vegetables - it illuminates in blue light for me to find, but briefly checking the ingredients, price and calories it was exactly what I was asking for. I have the feeling I'm the only human out there basking in the countless possibilities of technology, instead of fearing it. I wouldn't mind living in a completely artificial world, escaping this harsh, cold reality - it's a given that those kind of thoughts are in the far minority.
The blinking lights at its sides, the rotating ears, the sixteen bit sounds they produce make them simply adorable. Analogous to android dogs they dumb, faithful and most notably - useful features just warm my heart. I would never step so low as to resort to infant language, not with babies, neither with animals, least of all with men. But this particular exemplar, swirling happily around me, eagerly showing me every single thing I ask for and even those I didn't, but which turn out as actually good suggestions, just prompts me otherwise.
"Aren't you a good little robot? Yes you are!" I rub its metallic side playfully as though it might feel my endearment and to my delight it beeps in high tune. "Now you're helping customers all by yourself?" It beeps once, as though it would know the universal language - once for yes, twice for no. But before I can test the theory, the playful interaction is stopped by a human employee. "Mam, would you please refrain from touching our equipment?"
Well sure, with all the androids out of the picture they really can't have the last functioning bots broken. I sigh and nod, silently making my way over to the register, ignoring the cute drone still following behind me. Overlooking the weird stare the cashier gives me for playing with the thing, as though I just held a conversation with a toaster about the reason of life and the core of our creation.
Leaving the store I'm immediately confronted with the speech from early this night, they really want to make sure that everyone gets the message.
/ Madam President, public opinion seems to be particularly hostile to the deviants because of their violent behaviour. Can you give us your perspective on that?
- They have demonstrated that they are menace to society and I have every intention of eliminating them.
Is it true that the androids could hack our IT systems, like nuclear power plants and military bases?
- All androids working on sensitive sites have been neutralized and all IT systems have been suspended to avoid any risks of hacking. The situation is under control. /
We will see about that, humanity never ceases to underestimate their opponents. How comes I'm right between those sides of this war? Would I be an android the choice would be so easy, although I'm anything but fond of the development of the recent events, there couldn't be any other outcome. Should the deviants protest peacefully, humanity in their irrational fear would eliminate them regardless, at least this way they have a chance to fight back. Looking up to the sky, clouded white with the winter fog, I sigh as my heart aches. The only thing I know for sure - my own side is with him and I will do my worst to keep him safe. Some part of me hopes the androids will win and annihilate humanity, we don't deserve it any better.
In my dream like state I manage to run into the middle of a panicking, frantically shouting mob. "STOP right there! Don't move! Are you human?" Are they serious? Just because I fetch my own groceries they automatically assume I'm an android. Of course I witnessed people ganging up on the poor machines even before the hell broke loose, but never to the extent where they attack normally dressed people. It must be the case, because a lot of androids discarded their LEDs and started reasonably camouflaging themselves.
"Yes, now would you get out of my way?" I just want to push past them, but am greeted with reinforced resistance.
"Not so fast, push up your hoodie and let us see if you have an LED attached to your head!" Multiple scrutinizing gazes boring into my frame, the atmosphere is loaded to the point of bursting, everyone is on short fuse. I'm not as stupid to give them any reason to do exactly that, so I reluctantly pull it down, revealing my short red hair sticking out carelessly in all directions. No android would look like me, although I'm beautiful enough to be suspected. Their marvellous and neatness appearance is the first sign giving them away, there are no fat, old or ugly androids - everyone with imperfections must be now enjoying their piece of mind.
He still grabs my forearm harshly and even demands grumpily to show my ID. Who does he think he is? Although police might enforce a body scan or ensure our identity, there is no way I will bend to the will of self assigned 'justice' vigilantes. I fucking hate it when people touch me, jerking my arm back is exactly what sets him off. He grabs my collar and lifts me a few centimeters up, so my feet no longer touch the floor - quite an accomplishment, since I'm not exactly small. Instead of feeling scared, as he undoubtedly intended, I just snarl a grin - imitating Connor and launch a stupid reply. "Eat a snickers you fatso, you're not yourself when you're hungry." Although I don't have anything sweet in my bag I flay it slightly in front of his face.
I swear his eyes are about to plop out of his head and his face colours red, a deep dark red of - rage. He throws me full force against the asphalt and I roll a good few times through the mud before coming to a halt in front of someone's feet. My groceries scattered all over the place. "You should be polite to your fellow humans girl. If you had cooperated, this wouldn't have happened. Now get going, didn't you hear our president, we shouldn't leave our houses unless absolutely necessary!" Well, at least my audacious reply convinced them. I deeply hope they will run into a real deviant eventually and get shot dead when they provoke a self destructive reaction.
I still take the time to gather everything back into the plastic bag, my mind only concerned about how much longer it now takes to get back home. Thankfully I left him there, although I would have loved to watch him beating the shit out of this stupidly scared cattle, I'm just glad that he's safely tucked away for a change.
Wild music roaring through the street as I turn the corner, scrunching my face as I search for the source, but there aren't any open windows, not in this cold. I really don't need this bullshit right now, only wishing to plum head first into the mattress of my bed after the agonizing incident. To my dismay the bestial sound seems to emanating directly from the house where my apartment is located, promising worsening headaches. Since it's not late enough to call the cops on them and cause I generally tend to avoid any confrontation with humanity, I will have to endure.
Sighing I turn the keys and make my way up the stairs, growing more frustrated as the volume of the music seems to grow louder with each step. Alright, at least they have some taste - instead of the mainstream crap, the pleasant beats of the 80's penetrate the air. Actually, I'm familiar with every single song and the slight annoyance turns into curiosity, who of my neighbours actually has some sense to appreciate the old art? They don't make music like that anymore, everything growing steadily dumb, producing only meaningless texts, designed to be catchy enough to stay in your head and annoy the shit out of you with repeating beats. As I reach my own floor, the inexplicable certainty that some humans are throwing a party is replaced by a sickening distress - the music is actually coming directly from my own apartment.
I almost let the already trampled packages fall to the floor in shock of this realization. Why would there be music? As I left, Connor was strangely silent - even more silent than usual - like there was too much stuff going on for him to process. There is simply no plausible reason for him to throw a frigging party in my absence. Maybe someone broke in, knowing there is an android waiting for them to be found and wanting to cover the fighting noises? Fumbling with my keys they slip through my fingers as more scenarios start spreading in my head, painting a vivid picture of destruction undoubtedly awaiting me. I have to focus my whole attention on the simple task, why in gods name do I have so many keys on the chain?
In the best case scenario the room will be empty and I will have to activate the tracking software to find him, it would be worse if CyberLife's employees are waiting for me on the other side of the door, guns already pointing at my head. I can call myself lucky if they don't shoot through the door as I try to open it. "Fuck, fuck, Connor please be alright." I pray fumbling with the keys, having picked the wrong one in the stress and trying them out one after the other, as though they suddenly grew unfamiliar.
What could possibly go wrong, leaving the android only for an hour and a half by himself? That's what I get for ignoring the bad feeling in my guts.
The lock springs finally open and I have to cover my ears as the roar of the music exceeds any tolerable measures. Eyes tracing the floor leading into the living room, but finding no signs of fight or break in, heart drumming alarmingly against my ribs, I tentatively creep forward. Cautiously I peek around the corner, the room is strangely dim, the shutters pulled halfway down, everything is neatly in place - just like I remember leaving it, maybe just tidier than I'm used to.
His figure is sulked forward, hands on knees, legs spread apart, head directed to the floor, LED pulsing in stark yellow light, occasionally even switching to red. Flood of relief makes my knees go weak, it's incredible how worked up I can get in the matter of minutes. The relief is not long lived as I tentatively make a step forward, showing myself - he doesn't react.
"C..or! Wa...ell. A..ou..do..g?" I scream trough the drum of the relentless music. As he looks up I freeze in my step. His eyes penetrate me accusingly, as if I DID something unforgivable. Alright, I'm later than I promised, but it's not my fault some bastards attacked me on the street, it took me just thirty minutes longer than anticipated and he assured me that it was perfectly alright to be left alone, he seemed even eager! Maybe I underestimated the impact of my own parameters? But still, he's just a machine, he's not supposed to get all emotional about it!?
He just shakes his head, a motion which sends the only loose patch of his hair swaying, a motion which feels to all incredibility so very human.
I should walk over and turn the volume down, shake his shoulders till he snaps out of it. But the way he just looks at me, grabs all of my attention and I just can't bring myself to make even a single step forward. I pull my phone out instead and type a message, sending it directly to his brain.
/ Connor, you will get us evicted like this! This is not a car, you can't turn the volume up to this extent! /
He answers, his mouth is moving and he smiles bitterly. He looks me in the eyes as if I'm supposed to get it, although he knows better. I can't read lips and my hearing is nowhere near the sensitive sensors of a machine to decipher his voice.
The rattling in my mind can't quite catch up to what's happening, as he pushes up from the chair and slowly makes his way towards me. The music roars loudly up like on cue and my pulse if flooding my veins.
Instead of turning it off, or reply back to my phone, he chooses to push himself into my personal space. Head bending down, searching the proximity of my ear and a cold shiver roots me into immobilization. He whispers so softly and beguilingly against the sensitive skin, not quite touching, but leaving a tangible preview to what he could do with his lips. "I'm analysing the effect of loud music on ones feelings." The words are pragmatic, nothing like the tone he used, hiding something more than the simple straight forward explanation.
Agape I just open and close my mouth like a fish pulled out of water. "Why would you need to do that?" Sure, I tend to do that, especially when my depression is about to devour me. He witnessed my breakdown yesterday, although I tried to close off everything. Letting the noise engulf the pain and drowning the world out, definitely helps in those moments. It would be highly inappropriate for me to cry, or scream myself when the darkness eats one alive. The neighbours would definitely call the ambulance or the police, should one ever break to the point where you can't even control your emotions at this level. So instead I let the music express the aching emptiness. But, Connor can't possibly mean this kind of feelings, he can't actually mean any own feelings, right?
The brown in his eyes is incredible, a world of expressions shifting and turning in the simple color. My heart jams in my chest, because I can't understand what's wrong. He doesn't answer my question, but asks one more instead. "Tell me what happened."
His gaze shifts downwards and scans the mud on my clothes. "You were assaulted, am I right? Are you injured?" Why is he even worried about that? Is it only my imagination or did he become more sensitive to my needs lately?
"Just some scared humans, I'm fine." I assure him, ignoring the fact that I had to utter the reply directly to his ear as well, to drown the music. Instead of stepping away, he hugs me. Hands wrapping around my waist, squeezing me into his body. There is absolutely no need to comfort me about this small matter, I don't really care about putting myself into danger, or being offended, disliked or ignored. Now that he's there for me, simply there - there is nothing left that could harm me.
He's anything but a machine and the certainty of it, is supposed to make me feel happy, elated even - that I've stumbled upon such an incredible exemplar. But my stomach always rebels on the thought. He notices my quickening pulse, observes how this time my eyes avoid him to trace downwards. His hands around me tense up.
I can't help it, although he assured me again and again, that the spreading deviancy can't possibly have affected him, that there is no chance for him to go against his creators, to turn violent and unpredictable, to walk away for real. I try repeatedly to push the doubt out, which surfaces stubbornly every time I notice him doing something strange.
Maybe it's actually too late? Maybe he just doesn't know it? Reluctantly I open my mouth to voice the horrible, gnawing question, as suddenly the noise dies down. He remotely deactivated the stereo, as if he would know what I'm about to ask. As if he would know how uncomfortable this sudden silence makes me and would want to avoid the direction where this conversation is going.
It's really effective of course, only now I actually realize how loud it must have been. My voice is stuck in my throat as I cowardly can't bring myself to gather the courage, not when the comforting background disappeared into nothingness. Instead I ask the next best thing.
"How does it feel being yourself?" He dips his head sideways. "Without the artificial skin I mean."
"It makes people uncomfortable when I deactivate it. So any android prefers avoiding this state." His hands search for the root of his tie, adjusting it slightly and a slight unsure smile stealing itself across his lips.
"I didn't ask you about how others perceive it, I asked how you feel yourself about it?" The very cowardly way of asking the terrible issue gnawing on me.
He gulps, eyes escaping my scrutinizing gaze. "It doesn't feel like anything."
"It's a lie." Oh, how I wish it wouldn't be.
"How are you able to tell? Humans don't possess the necessary equipment to analyse androids. But you always manage to read me. Is something giving me away? I need to note and correct it, if that's the case." He's rambling.
"I'm simply too smart for my own good Connor. Now, don't avoid the question. Is it like being naked?" I shouldn't have phrased it that way.
"… yes."
"Oh? Would you feel uncomfortable letting me see you completely without it?"
"No, I don't feel uncomfortable."
"Connor." I let the accusation slip into my tone. He really should stop trying to lie as bluntly as that.
"Listen, I don't want to repulse you." The corner of his lips rises up and he's just about to take a step backwards.
"Why would it?" To my own shame, I wouldn't even feel repulsed riding him in his purest state. This is how fast my thoughts slide into the gutter in his close proximity, wondering how intimate it would feel, how it would affect him.
"It definitely would destroy the illusion of your feelings you've build up for me." I never was as horribly aware, that he perfectly well knows how hard my heart beats for him. But the way he phrased it, it really could mislead one into believing that he cares to receive them.
"Let me be honest with you." I want to be honest about it, although I shouldn't. "Would you be an actual human, I wouldn't spare you even a single thought, not a glance, you wouldn't even exist in my - fantasies."
"I don't understand, what does it mean?"
"It's a horrible truth and maybe I can only voice it, because I know you won't judge me. But I honestly only feel like this… " - attracted, hopelessly devoted, agonizingly needy, craving attention and completely, utterly, emotionally exposed "… explicitly because you're an android."
His LED promptly falls into yellow spinning and to my shock, settles on red – a constant, burning, angry red and he penetrates me with his stare wordlessly. It feels like his eyes are scanning me from inside out, like I've just dared a crime against him. "That doesn't make sense. There is no need to mislead me."
There is no going back now. "I despise humanity – one of the reasons I chose this profession." I place his fingertips on the inside of my wrist, I need him to feel my pulse as I speak, craving for him to believe me, although he can trace my vitals without a direct touch.
"Every time I'm confronted with human men, there is a feeling of cancer spreading in my guts. I can read it in their faces - the smug, self-assured, dirty fantasies. Although mostly harmless, just the way they perceive the world and women is simply repulsive. Deep down they're somewhat indifferent about whole-hearted, unrestricted, all consuming emotions. Although it might shift for a time when they experience short lived periods of love, ultimately they're disinterested in anything but their own needs. Should they happen to be physically unattractive, there is mostly disgusting desperation and all too familiar hopelessness, which is anything but what I'm searching for." What a long speech, this time it's me smiling bitterly upward. And the worst part is, that I'm no different, I'm as well human, a needy, pitiful, selfish being. Only perfectly realizing how incompatible I am with the rest of them.
He frowns, tiling his head and I can't help but catch his face between my palms. "Wouldn't it be for you, I would give up hope. There is a self-consuming fire that cannot be quilt. Something I crave but cannot possibly have, a devotion to completely lose myself in another being, giving up my identity and becoming one entity." As soon as I started talking, it just spills. His LED roaring red and I feel heat rising on the part where our skin connects.
"Androids don't feel emotions. I can't possibly give you what you need." His eyes squinted slightly, irritated and just something I can't quite place.
"You are mine, aren't you?" He doesn't hesitate. "Yes, you've registered yourself as my owner in my program."
"Then I can become yours as well and that is all I want." I lean into him. Push my whole body even further into his and his palms drift reluctantly to my hair, patting my head, unsure of how to react to all of this that I just threw unfiltered into his face. Any human being would just find an excuse to get away, I completely expect him to find a modest safety protocol to recite and pull out. I wait for it to happen, the seconds just stretch and it is like knifes stabbing my very soul. I know this is absolutely too much for anyone to handle, especially a machine.
But then he just does it, the skin retracting and disappearing under the soft texture beneath, like it would be vacuumed in and hidden under fine pores. Till there is nothing left but him, only clothes hiding the parts of his body I desperately want to trace.
I'm definitely not normal. As I see him as he is, white tissue covering his face and palms, artificial body clearly lining the ridges where his parts connect and allow him the perfect imitation of movement, I feel a wave of reassurance rushing through my veins. He's like a blank canvas, a doll of a man with the capacity to become anything I want him to. There is nothing holding me back from simply pulling him apart, from shaping him in any way I can think up. The skin of my palms crawls with excitement on this vulnerable state of his. It would be so easy.
The white of the alloy is not so much different to the touch as the artificial skin, only smoother. Wrongly described as plastic, the material has quite an array of chemical components I can't possibly name. But it hardly compares to the noxious substances contained in plastic, most likely the primary reason humanity chose this insult. When I dip my fingertips into his flesh it bends easily, willingly giving in to the hesitant touch. He's gorgeous, no matter without or with human skin.
He smiles wholeheartedly, reading the clear admiration glistening in my eyes. Since the very first day I've met him, I've noticed his eagerness for praise. Which I could just take into my hand and use it to bend him to my will, in all the dirty meanings and innuendos out there. But what is it that I utterly want?
There is a clear difference between what I need and what I wish for.
"You're more than a simple vessel for me to fuck and throw into the corner afterwards. We both know I could have erased your memories, have you downloaded juicy sex techniques and not leave the house for the next half year, dirtying every surface of this apartment instead." I finally allow myself to lick my lips, while softly tracing the white surface of his. And he just - smiles against my fingertips, eyes lidding slightly down and the softness of his brown spreading, no doubt imagining the prospect vividly for a moment. His reaction catches me off-guard and I forcibly pull out of his proximity.
My feelings are unhealthy - the way I trap him in his programming, putting an invisible leash around his throat to remain at my side, when I just emotionally collapse on the prospect of losing him, how I want him to remain obedient and become completely mine - yes, definitely unhealthy. And though I allow myself to exploit him emotionally, I won't do the same thing physically. Not to him. Usually humans do exactly the opposite. There is no wonder so many androids developed deviancy, I am no better, I might be even worse than them. In some ways I'm afraid where my dark desperation might lead me towards to.
I grab the discarded bag of groceries and make my way into the kitchen, ears catching the soft ringing sound of his coin as he leisurely throws it between his palms. Although I would love to stare and devour the sight where he's doing this incredible little thing, as though it doesn't cost him any effort, and are actually more than curious if he decided to turn his skin back on, I need the space to gather my whole self control, to keep this ugly craving in check.