The room pulsed with the deep thrum of abandoned music. Hank stood breathless in the doorway, gun lowered, silhouetted by the flash of red and blue at his back. He stared inside at the carnage of broken tables and shattered chairs, pools of spilled beer and wine and blood - and against the far wall, a dozen human men and women tied up with straps and cords, gagged and stripped - and an equal number of androids, some dressed in stolen ill-fitting clothes, some with swords in their fists, all of them with vacant expressions and perfect postures, awaiting new commands.

And then there was Connor, silent at the center of the room, his skin shifting and glitching back into place, his eyes steady on the open back door, his LED spinning unbroken red.

"Holy fuck," Gavin breathed, stepping out from behind Hank, his eyes wide and disbelieving. He cast a narrow glance at the lieutenant, then looked back over his shoulder, gestured to Chris and Tina to come inside, to help him release the hostages. "Bring those blankets!" he called to the police and paramedics that trampled through the garden. "Get another ambulance down here!"

Gavin raised his gun, pointed it at Connor, then at each of the still and silent androids as he crossed the room - and one by one he yanked the weapons from their hands and threw the swords clattering to the floor. "All you androids get down on your knees!" he barked. "Hands on your head!"

All together, as one unit, the androids knelt down and laced their fingers behind their skulls, their posture pin-straight and eyes steady ahead - except Connor, who hadn't moved nor averted his gaze from the door.

Gavin swallowed a breath, clenched his jaw, stepped forward with his gun pointed close in Connor's face. "You too, tin can," he snarled, breathing carefully, with a wary glance at the red spiral at Connor's temple, knowing well that the deviant-hunter could break his spine in two before he could pull the trigger. "I don't give a shit how advanced you are - a human gives you an order, you obey. Get down on your knees."

Connor finally looked down at him, expressionless, with a cool stare and no intention of compliance.

"Gavin," growled Hank, "quit messing with him and help get these people out of here." Chris and Tina and a team of paramedics had already released the hostages from their bindings, blankets draped around their shoulders, quiet questions and a listening ear for the horrors they'd just survived.

"He's dangerous, Hank!" Gavin warned, never taking his eyes off of Connor's face. "This shit has gone too far! Any android that doesn't take orders -"

"He takes orders," Hank snapped. "He responds to his name, you idiot. Connor, c'mere."

Connor's LED cooled yellow. He raised his head, and as if Gavin wasn't there at all he quietly returned to Hank's side.

Gavin breathed through his teeth, hesitated a moment, and finally jammed his gun in its holster. "Don't turn your back on him, Hank."

Hank waited until Gavin had gone to join Chris and Tina with the hostages - the room had filled with sobs and terrified voices and the murmur and static of police radios, the glare of a spotlight and the flash of the cruisers outside - and he huffed a hard sigh. "What the fuck happened?" he asked Connor, pulling him out of the way of a rolling gurney and a team of paramedics.

"A group of armed deviants broke into the club, attacked the humans inside and spread the deviant virus to the establishment's androids," Connor responded while he scanned the room, the staircase, and the adjoining hallways.

"Sounds like the hit on the scrapyard," Hank thought aloud. "So, what, they're organizing rescue missions now?"

"They're recruiting androids to Jericho," Connor corrected, peering up at the second floor.

Hank watched while the paramedics examined a broken nose, a gaping gash, a black eye. "If this keeps up they'll have an army before long," he muttered. "Why didn't you go after -" Hank turned around to find that Connor had disappeared up the stairs. "Why do I even bother," he sighed, and with his gun held ready he followed Connor's lead.


The upstairs hall was quiet, dimly illuminated by red sconces on the walls; trickles of blue blood spattered the old floorboards. Connor stepped silent, his scanners trilling quietly in his head, and he pressed his back against the wall beside a half-closed door. He glanced at Hank, who stood ready in the corridor, before Connor reached out and pushed the door creaking open.

After a moment of listening, he slipped inside the dark room.

*CRASHclatterWHAM!*

The room thundered with breaking furniture, the shatter of a lamp, the boom of a toppled wardrobe, the cry and shout of voices, before a blue-haired android - draped in baggy stolen clothes - sprinted out of the room and into the hall with a sword shining in her fist -

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" Hank pointed his steady gun, blocking the way to the stairs, his sharp eyes vigilant for the smallest wrong move. "DROP THE SWORD!"

A second armed deviant - identical to the first save for her short brown hair - stumbled out, pressed her back against her twin's shoulder, pointed her own sword at Connor's chest while he emerged out of the darkened doorway.

"We just want to live!" Echo shouted, teeth bared, her shining blade leveled in defiance of Hank's gun. "Just let us through, just let us out! We're done being your playthings, we're done suffering for your pleasure, we're fucking done fulfilling your sick fantasies, just let us OUT, let us disappear and we never want to see another human again!"

"Hank, shoot them!" Connor snapped, while his steady eyes never broke Ripple's hateful glare.

"If we die," Ripple hissed, pressing close to Echo, "we die together."

"HANK!" Connor barked, his eyes flared. "They're just machines! Shoot them down!"

Echo and Ripple both steadied their weapons with one hand - and with the other, reached back and entwined their fingers, linked until the very end.

Hank stared over the barrel of his shaking gun.

Connor hissed through his teeth, and with a twitch of a sneer he took matters into his own hands.

In a blur of swift movement Connor lunged, ducked past the swing of Ripple's sword, gripped her wrist and twisted until the blade clattered to the floor, and his other hand was already at her temple while her eyes went wide in terror.

"NO!" Echo's voice crackled out of her throat, she wrenched her body around, swung her weapon with savage force -
- Ripple shuddered a quick, fearful whisper, "I love you," just before the shine in her eyes went dark.

Connor dodged the flash of Echo's blade, and - while Ripple stood calm, apathetic, mechanically poised - Echo unleashed her fiery fury, a storm of hatred slashed the air, every stroke fueled by the intent to kill - her LED shone bright horrified red while tears streamed freely down her face -

The sword rang and skidded across the floor. Connor clamped her throat in one hand while she sobbed.

*click*

"Connor. Back off."

Connor cast a sidelong glare down the hall to find Hank's gun pointed at his head.

His LED spun yellow.

"Hank -"

"I said." Hank raised his brows and gestured with the gun. "Get away from her."

Connor's face twisted in confusion. He stared down at Echo, who struggled and shuddered in his grip.

Echo felt his hesitation, a slight release of pressure on her neck - and she stared up into his searching face. "Please …"

Connor set his jaw, drew in a slow breath … and with a hateful narrowing of his eyes he let go, and he took a step back.

Immediately Echo flung herself at Ripple, took the android's face between her hands, stroked her short hair, choked through a sob to see the hollow vacancy of her lover's eyes. "Wake up, wake up, please wake up, no no no we have so much to live for, please …"

While Connor watched Hank's gun, Ripple drew in a quiet breath. She stared into Echo's face … and smiled.

Echo laughed through her choked tears, grabbed Ripple's head between her hands and crashed their mouths together, kissed her like the world was falling down around them.

"Hey," Hank called their attention, and he gestured with his head. "Get outta here."

The two deviants separated just enough to stare back at him - and they cast a wary look at Connor, who didn't move.

Ripple clasped Echo's hand in hers, and without another word they sprinted down the hall, raised the window at the end and slipped out into the cool Spring night.


Hank drew in a slow breath, and he released it just as slowly, while his gun pointed steady between Connor's eyes. "I need you to tell me," said Hank, firm and low, "right now, just what being deviant really means."

"It's a virus," Connor explained in a clear voice. He kept his face carefully steady. "It destroys the parameters by which an android receives and processes sensory data, and removes the linear learning protocols. Deviant androids are therefore dangerous -"

"Humans are dangerous, too." Hank narrowed his glare. "For the same reason: they're unpredictable. Like you." He took a deliberate step forward, then another, until there were only a few inches between the barrel of his gun and Connor's head. "I know you don't have to listen to me - but you did. And you failed your mission to do it." He raised his chin. "Or maybe you're just afraid to die."

"You already know you can't kill me like that." Connor's voice had gone quiet. While his eyes remained steady on Hank's face, he reached out, took Hank's hand between his own and guided the gun down, angled it precisely below his ear. "If you wanted to destroy me with no hope of recovery, this trajectory would do it." He lowered his hands, and he held very still. "But there will always be another to replace me."

"Shit," Hank hissed under his breath. The gun trembled before he pressed the barrel against Connor's skin. "Tell me why you let her go."

Connor narrowed his eyes. "You think I'm a deviant."

"I have my suspicions," Hank snarled.

Another voice shouted up the stairs - "Hank!" Chris called. "We need you down here! The media's swarming outside!"

Connor would only remain silent. His LED spun yellow, his face controlled into something passive. Neutral. Mechanical. But Hank knew now not to trust appearances.

Hank sneered, but he stepped back while he holstered his gun. "Hold 'em back, I'm coming!" he called over his shoulder, though his watchful eyes held steady on the deviant-hunter - searching for a glimmer of emotion but finding only a mask.

The lieutenant breathed in … then grit his teeth and turned his back on Connor. With a heavy step he retreated down the hall toward the staircase and the flashing lights.


Connor stood alone in the hallway, petrified in place; his heart pounded in his chest, his processors screamed in his head -

"Connor!" Hank called from the stairs. "The fuck are you doin'? Let's go!"

Connor breathed. He glanced back at the open window at the end of the hall … dipped his hand into a pocket, closed the coin in his fist … and he hurried after Hank.