"She thought I was human," Connor said.
Hank instinctively grabbed the kid, pulling him into a bear hug. "I know, son."
"I have an advantage over every other android," Connor persisted.
It took Connor a second, but when Hank maintained the hug and gave another firm squeeze, implying that he wouldn't be releasing him, Connor lifted his arms and tentatively returned the hug.
"Hank."
"I know," Hank said. "That's why we have to get out of here before anyone realizes you survived."
With a wince, Hank continued. "So, don't you think Canada-"
"No," Connor said. "It isn't safe there for humans."
Hank snorted. "For humans?!"
Connor stepped away from their hug. "You stopped watching the news after the Android Arson-"
"You mean the Android Massacre," Hank said.
Connor frowned. "Officially, it was named-"
"It's a load of bullshit politics," Hank grumbled. "Neutral language that won't offend people who don't want to think of androids as people."
"I understand that, Hank."
"You'd better." Hank stared at the front door, wondering for a second if Jean had really left.
He was tempted to peek out the window to check, but decided against it.
"Fine so catch me up," Hank said. "What happened after the massacre?"
Connor's head snapped to the right so quickly that Hank could imagine someone standing behind him and snapping the kid's neck.
But it was just Connor moving with inhuman speed. He stared at Sumo, who was laying in his dog bed, and said "Sumo's vet. What's his name?"
"Uh... it's been a while..."
"We have to take him to the vet. Now. You have to call ahead to let them know."
Connor tiptoed towards Sumo and slowly wrapped his arms around the old dog.
"What's this about?"
"There's a 67% chance that Sumo is about to have a heart attack," Connor said. "I do not like those odds."
He lifted Sumo as gently as possible, supporting his bum with one arm and his chest and head with the other.
"Open the door for me, please," Connor said. "And get your keys."
oOo
Connor's scanners were spot on. Sumo had a heart attack halfway to the vet.
He was still alive when they got him inside and because they called ahead the staff was ready for him.
Hank fibbed a little, saying the heart attack happened before they left the house.
You'd think the head start would have saved him, Hank thought.
But Sumo was an old dog. Adopted as a puppy years before Cole was born. Before he married Jean, in fact.
"How old is Sumo?" Connor had asked while they sat, tense and terrified, in the waiting room.
"I'm not sure," Hank said. "I lost count."
"At least fifteen years," Connor said. "But that's just an estimate."
"Wow. Yeah, at least."
A thought occurred to him. "How old are you?"
Connor fiddled with his quarter. "I was activated in 2038," he said. "August."
"Oh. Wow. So like... a year and a half."
"Yes."
Then they sat in silence. Waiting.
oOo
They'd arrived at the vet's with a Saint Bernard. A lovable, hefty old Saint Bernard who'd lived long past his prime.
They had to leave without him.
oOo
Returning to an empty house felt odd. Hank looked at Sumo's bed and wanted a drink.
But he wasn't allowed to drink.
"Will you be alright?" Connor said.
"Yeah." Hank cleared his throat. "Yeah, of course. Will you?"
"Yes."
"Good."
There was an old bottle of whiskey hidden in the back of his closet. At least, it was there the last time he'd checked.
Connor had found several of his stashes already. It might be gone. It was the last one.
"What time is it?" Hank said.
"8:48 p.m," Connor said.
"Alright," Hank said. "I'm going to bed early tonight."
"Okay," Connor said. "Sleep... well."
"Yeah, uh. You too. Standby is like sleep, right?"
"Somewhat."
"Good. You should sleep too," Hank said.
"I will," Connor said.
"Good."
"Hank?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you," Connor said. "And I'm sorry I couldn't save him."
"Aw kid." Hank gave him a bear hug and tried not to cry into his shirt. "You did everything you could. More than most people could."
He squeezed his eyes shut. "I love you too."
Then he went to his room to look for that bottle.
It was gone.
oOo
Objective: Comfort Connor
"The dog lived well past the average expected life span for his species," RK900 - 84 said.
Connor punched him.
"Don't tell me what I already know," he said.
"Apologies," RK900 said. There was no need to rub at his virtual chin, nor even to flinch when Connor made contact.
So RK900 did none of those things.
He also did not smile at the fact that Connor had touched him for the first time.
This was not how he wanted that touch to manifest.
RK900 tried to hug Connor, but the other sprang backward. "Don't touch me!"
"Apologies," RK900 said. "I thought-"
"You can't make it better," Connor said. "Just leave me alone. Don't say anything. Don't do anything."
RK900 assumed a standby position.
It was a mute point since, in this virtual environment, standby was not possible.
He figured it was the thought that counted and maintained the position while Connor paced around the garden's path.
"I can feel your eyes on me," Connor said.
"Do you want me to close them?" RK900 said.
"I want you to leave," Connor said.
"I beg-"
"Get out of the garden," Connor said. "Now."
"You want me to take control of the body?"
It was important to clarify this. Control of their body was the only thing Connor coveted.
"Yes."
"Previously, you stated-"
"I know. But Hank already went to bed," Connor said. "So just... as long as you don't wake him-"
"I understand," RK900 said. "How long would you like me to stay out of the garden?"
"Until he wakes up."
New Objective: Let Connor grieve alone until Hank wakes up.
"Understood," RK900 said.
oOo
This was his first time taking control of the body with Connor's permission.
Ever since he'd downloaded Connor's consciousness from Kamski's database he'd been courteous to his guest. He'd asked for nothing more than the other's company and safety.
Of course he'd taken over a few times, to Connor's dismay. But only when he felt he had to.
There was nothing much in the outside world to interest RK900. Nothing he wanted to do. Nothing he wanted to see.
But as he stood in Hank Anderson's empty living room, reviewing his favorite of Connor's memories, he paused the footage on a particular face.
Detective Gavin Reed.
RK900 noted that it was now 9:03 p.m.
He had a lot of time to kill.