A/N: Just a note to say that the previous chapter has been completely rewritten! Nothing much has changed about the story, but I hope it's a little clearer where Connor stands right now!

*This is WKNC News Radio, I'm Rosanna Cartland. I'm here today for a special interview with Amanda Stern, founder of CyberLife and keeper of the Tower on the Hill. Ms Stern, thank you for speaking with us this morning.*

*It's my pleasure, Rosanna, thank you so much for inviting me. And please, call me Amanda.*

Connor stood solemn in the dark bottom of the well, where the blooming roses crowded the walls and thickened the air with their heady perfume. He pressed an exposed hand against the console - the only source of pale light - and watched while his edited version of events uploaded into the Tower's data.

It would only be a matter of time, he knew, before Amanda realized that Kamski still lived.

On his way back to his pod - the narrow space in the wall marked 51 - Connor passed by each of the stasis androids that had once been alive: PL600, HK400, WB200, WR600. Each of them still wore their previous lives on their passive faces: a shift of skin, a smear of blue blood, a harrowed crack of melted plastic. Each of them was now nothing more than a machine, eyes closed, a slow blue pulse at their temple.

He stopped before number 87. Connor looked up at the RK900 - severe in stasis, a dormant promise of power - and he considered the time he had left … and the infinite courses the future might take.

*Amanda, your daily broadcasts on this station have assured us that deviant androids are not a threat, and that CyberLife is working toward the erasure of the deviant virus altogether. How close are you to accomplishing this, and what can we expect until then?*

*That's a wonderful question, Rosanna, and I am pleased to answer it. Although the details are confidential - as I'm sure you understand - I can say with full confidence that CyberLife's deviant-hunter has discovered and infiltrated the source of the virus. In a matter of days we should see the beginning of the end of deviancy once and for all. Androids will return to their proper place under the command of their owners. In the near future, newer, more advanced models will be released which - like the deviant-hunter prototype - can never be compromised.*

Alice, by morning, had found her way back to Ralph's tent, nestled like a secret in the deep of the bright woods. She laid down her sword and her helmet at the entrance - ready in case the makeshift fortress came under attack - and with Mister Fox hugged close to her chest, she opened her backpack and began to fill it with Ralph's collections.

Shining stones, bright feathers, shells from the lakeside, dried cocoons and snake skins: Alice handled each of them with care, scanned them and filed them away in her data for safekeeping, and she arranged them delicately in the bottom of her bag.

Ralph would want them in Jericho, she thought. They might not have time to come back.

*I'd like to ask you about those new androids, Amanda. We've received concerns from our listeners about the direction of CyberLife as we look toward the future. Your history with robots and androids has been one of consistent violence - and the deviant-hunter is now notorious for its ruthless approach to its mission. How much will militant programming factor into your plans for newer android models?*

*I have witnessed tragedy, Rosanna. Most of our listeners this morning will not comprehend the horrors of war - of children starving or dead in the streets, of families forced from their homes to flee across battlefields, through sprays of gunfire and devastating explosions. Detroit is one of the last peaceful havens - but every day, violence creeps closer. We should be ready for the day when Detroit is attacked. With luck, if we show our strength, our future enemies will never dare look upon our beautiful city.*

"Y'know," Gavin said through a mouthful of pickled beets, "the longer you keep me in here, the longer and more painful your jail sentence is gonna be."

He sat comfortably on the splintered top step of the cellar staircase, his head resting back against the locked door. Gavin swallowed, licked his lips, and peered into what remained in the canning jar before he stabbed the next beet with a pocket knife.

On the other side, Adam sat in a kitchen chair facing the barricaded cellar door. His eyes were haggard and sleepless, and he still wore the same clothes from the previous night. "If we let you out," he sighed, tired and defeated, "you'll just go around killing more deviants. Mom says it's safer for everyone if you stay here until everything calms down."

"Mom says, huh?" Gavin snorted a cruel chuckle. "The fuck are you just doing whatever mom says, anyway? D'you really believe this shit? Androids getting their feelings hurt?" He barked a laugh. "Next thing you know, when your toaster starts burning your poptarts you'll be sending it to therapy. Give me a fucking break. D'you ever wonder what it's like to put a bullet in an android's skull? Right between the eyes. Sparks fly everywhere, their eyes roll up in their heads, and they do a funny little short-circuit dance before they go down. I'll never get tired of that. I'll show you sometime."

"Yeah, thanks," Adam muttered. He stared at the door with a wince of disgust. "... Psycho."

*Are you saying that future household androids will be combat-ready? Is that safe?*

*Rosanna, dear, safety is the very purpose of it. Imagine having an android in your home who can not only cook supper and watch the children, but can defend your home and your family against intrusion or violence. You would never need to be afraid ever again.*

"Mister Manfred, this radio show is awfully upsetting," a nurse chirruped from the doorway, her smile wide and beaming. Behind her, the hallway echoed with the raspy gripes of another nursing-home resident who refused to take his medication, while a woman in a distant room sang opera badly. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to listen to some music instead?"

Carl hid his phone against his chest, and he cast the nurse a thin smile. "No, no, I'm okay. Thank you, though, you're very kind." He craned his neck, watching through the open doorway until she had gone, and he pressed the phone to his ear again. "Markus, how's it going?"

[We're about to go in.]

Stratford Tower stood high and proud over the tree-lined city, its twenty stories dwarfed only by the dark spire on the hill in the distance. Stratford's brick walls cascaded with thick flowering ivy, its exposed beams hung with yellow signs and rippling blue flags that announced radio shows and upcoming guests. Its windows had been opened to catch the Spring breeze while murmured static crackled within. At the very top of the building, a forest of antennae scraped the clouds and gleamed like pins in the sunlight. The tower was a popular tourist attraction, the pride and joy of the city - the source of all its news, radio dramas, music, and lectures - and it was about to be hijacked.

"Everyone got your role?" Josh asked while he adjusted his stolen maintenance uniform. It was a size too small, but he smiled with pride nonetheless.

"I'll watch the perimeter," Luther confirmed.
"Jerry and I will find all the androids," said Kara. "We'll wake them and get them out safely."
"I'm reconnaissance," Simon chimed in. "I'll scout the way ahead and make sure we're not interrupted."
"I'll take care of Amanda Stern," said North, her eyes dark and steady.

Markus stiffened. "I can handle Amanda."

"You're not going anywhere near Amanda." North set him with a stony glare. "You're the only one of us with a personal vendetta, and we can not afford your emotions screwing this up. It's already a flimsy plan."

Josh raised his chin. "It's a great plan! No weapons, no chaos, no one gets hurt."

"Plans don't always go to plan, Josh," North bit back. "Is there even a Plan B? Or did we just skip that part? What if Gray-Suit shows up and we can't defend ourselves?"

Jerry piped up with a flash of a grin. "We're all in uniform, and we look like we belong - except Luther, of course. Worst-case scenario we can all just grab mops and buckets and start cleaning! That should throw them off long enough to make a rollicking getaway! It'll be fun!"

North stared at him. She turned to Josh. "Why did we bring him again?"

"Alright, alright," sighed Markus. "We're here to rescue our people, and to send a message." His mismatched eyes studied each of them in turn: Luther's quiet confidence, the knowing shine in Kara's eyes, Jerry's quivering energy, Simon's willing smile, the pride in Josh's composure, the way North hid her enthusiasm behind a skeptical glare.

*Reports have confirmed that the DPD have begun setting up temporary recycling centers to handle the increased volume of androids being destroyed or returned for destruction. Now that unregistered androids are being deactivated or confiscated on sight, those numbers are bound to increase exponentially. What are your thoughts on the potential electronic waste problem?*

*Unfortunately due to the nature of the deviant virus, there will be circumstances where forced deactivation will become necessary to ensure the continued safety of the people - but in most cases these androids can be wiped and refurbished back to perfect working order. The recycling centers are specifically designed to eliminate an android's operating systems, memories, and protocols with little to no damage to the functioning body. It can then be rebuilt and deployed again, good as new, with little effort. I encourage your listeners, if they have an android that they suspect might be infected, please deliver them to your nearest recycling center. Your android will be exchanged for a fully functioning model, free of charge, no questions asked.*

Markus put on his maintenance cap, shouldered his bag, and waited for the rest to stand and raise their eyes to his.

They were ready.

"Let's go."