Author's Note: This is the end of part one. I'm nearly done writing part two, which is about the same length, and I will start posting soon.
Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate it so much. ^_^
28 Detroit 10.1.2038
Clara
It takes me over a week to get stir-crazy enough to leave my house. I've talked to my mom and dad a few times. My brother even called though the conversation was stilted. It was still nice to hear his voice. My family has been under police watch as well, but Benjamin's men are nowhere to be found.
I guess the police decide the danger's over or that they have better things to do because they're gone after a week. Fall has turned the air crisp, and I don a jacket and scarf before setting out. I don't really have a destination in mind. I just keep walking, my phone clamped in my hand just in case. It's a couple of miles to the river, but I make it there. I've always loved the view of the city across from it. Here there's a little park with a playground and some benches. I walk up to the railing and place my hands on the cool metal. Cars whizz by on the overpass, in a hurry to be somewhere.
My hands grow cold, so I stuff them in my jacket pockets and hunch my shoulders against the sharp breeze. I must stand for half an hour, body slowly growing colder though the sun still shines, a hazy light filtering through a cloudbank.
I stiffen when footsteps sound behind me, grasping my phone tighter before turning to see who's approaching.
To my surprise, it's Connor. "Connor. What are you doing here?" I ask. "How did you know I was here?"
"I traced the signal on your phone," he says with a shrug as if this is a normal way of meeting up with someone. "I went to the office first, but Tony told me what happened. I'm sorry, Clara."
The regret in his eyes looks genuine, his brow furrowed just a little, lips canted downwards in a frown. "He also told me you blame yourself."
"I hope you're not here to dissuade me of the idea," I say, looking down at my boots. A red leaf is stuck to my shoelace, and I bend down to pull it off.
"No. I'm here to tell you you don't have to be afraid anymore. We caught all of Benjamin's men."
I was not expecting that and look up at him in shock. "You what?"
"We caught everyone. Including the men who murdered Dannie." He watches me curiously, brown eyes soft but keen. He's dressed in his usual suit, tie perfectly straight. His only imperfection is the strand of hair that likes to fall across his forehead.
"'We'? Did you have a hand in this?" I ask.
He nods, looking almost bashful. "I tracked them down. I had help from Detective Raymond."
"So Dannie will get justice?"
"Yes. And you don't have to hide anymore." He blinks at me, watching for my reaction, looking almost disappointed when I'm not more excited. I'm still taking it in.
"Why?" ends up coming out of my mouth. I should be thanking him, but I don't understand why he would do this. A gust of wind pushes my hair across my face, and I push it back impatiently.
"Why what?" Connor questions me, furrowing his brow.
"Why did you go after them? It didn't have anything to do with deviants." I hardly think CyberLife cares if a red ice drug dealer's men come after me.
"Because I didn't want you to die," Connor says like I should have known that already. He narrows his eyes, as if confused by my question.
I don't know how to respond to that. I wanted to think Connor cared, that he wasn't just a machine following orders. He's friendly and polite, but he's programmed to be that way. I wanted to believe he had a personality that was his own, that he could make decisions on his own, but maybe I hadn't believed it. Up until now.
"I want to believe you mean that."
"I do." But his brow is still furrowed like he doesn't really believe himself. "It's not my programming. I would be displeased if someone hurt you."
If a human had worded a statement that way, I would have been offended, but I can tell Connor really means what he says—he's just not quite sure how to say it.
"Thanks, Connor." I give him a smile, the first smile in a long week. He smiles back, a little forced like he hasn't quite mastered the motion.
"Why did you quit?" he asks.
My smiles fades, and I turn away, bracing my hands on the railing again. "An innocent girl is dead because I stuck my nose in someone else's business. And that's exactly my job. How can I keep doing that in good conscience?" I turn to look at Connor as he joins me at the railing. His jacket is tugged backwards by the wind, the end of his thin tie flapping in place. The unruly strand of hair falls over his forehead, and I get the irrational instinct to push it back. I keep my hands firmly on the railing instead, not quite trusting myself.
"Because of you, Cyber Control is being shut down. No more experiments, no more using androids to commit crimes. Dannie knew the risks when she called you for an interview; you can't blame yourself for her death. That blame falls on the people who decided to hurt her."
"I'm the one who told her to get out of town. She was killed trying to leave." I shut my eyes against the wave of tears that threaten to fall. It will be a tsunami if I let them go, so I try to pull myself together.
"You aren't to blame," Connor presses. "The police found messages that Lazarus Benjamin sent when he took over 60% of the company. He wanted all the employees who had helped David with his experiments terminated. He considered them a liability. He didn't know Dannie was the one you interviewed. He'd already put a hit on her and two others who helped with the experiments. One of them is in critical condition. The other one died on site."
I take in his words. Lazarus already planned on killing Dannie. She didn't die just because I dragged her into this. She had helped me expose the company's shady side, helped me put an end to it.
"There were dozens of androids waiting for the next round of experiments," Connor continues. "They were freed, taken back to CyberLife for a new start. The app will be shut down."
"I don't suppose CyberLife was too happy about the company experimenting with their androids."
"No. After I explained the situation, I was given permission to investigate the company further—pick up where you left off. They're issuing a lawsuit now that they can prove unlawful activities on the part of Cyber Control."
"There's going to be plenty of stories in the aftermath of this," Connor tells me, tilting his head to the side, a hint of a smile curving his mouth up. He looks almost playful, challenging, like he's daring me to let someone else write it. I feel like he knows parts of me few people do because he watches and learns and tries to understand. Humans don't pay attention to detail the way Connor does. He might not be human, but he's always watching, learning to adapt.
"Mhmm," I hum noncommittally.
"Tony said your boss is keeping your job until you're ready," he continues. He thinks I need convincing. He wants me to keep writing. I hesitate though. I didn't quit lightly even if it was a quick decision, but I realize I have to weigh the outcomes. Dannie dying made me realize how much of an affect the right information to the wrong people has on other people's lives. But my article didn't get her killed and, because of what I uncovered and what Dannie shared, Cyber Control is toast. There's still good that can be done out there, but maybe I should take a step back for a while, find other worthy causes that don't put a target on my back.
"I think I proved one thing in all this," I tell Connor, turning to face him. He mimics me, mirroring my posture as he waits for my response. "We make a good team. When I'm off on my own, I get into too much trouble."
I've always been fiercely independent. Trust issues have plagued potential relationships and turned me into a hermit outside of work. I like doing things on my own, especially in a world where young women have to claw their way up. I've never been handed anything; I've worked hard for it and, in the end, it paid off. I can't let my career be this short-lived. Dannie risked her life to tell the truth. I can't hide away because I'm too afraid to dig up truths and hand out justice where I can. The pen can be mightier than the sword even if it's quieter. I'm not going to change the world, but I can speak up for it. I'm not going to end injustices, but I can speak out against them.
Part of me wants to do it alone. I don't need help because I have ambition and an insatiable thirst for the truth. But another part of me has taken a lesson away from this—it's okay to ask for help. It doesn't make you weak; it doesn't lessen your accomplishments.
"I want to keep investigating injustices against androids. I want to learn more about deviants. But I'd really like your help. I know you have your own missions, and I know CyberLife doesn't want you sharing anything sensitive with me, but maybe we can learn more together." I'm telling him I trust him in the most roundabout way possible. I'm letting him into my life, letting myself feel the slightest bit of dependence on this partnership I've come to enjoy.
Connor is quiet, thinking. "CyberLife wouldn't approve of me telling you details of our investigations." I begin to deflate. "But they can't help it if you come by this information on your own. I can't stop you from writing your stories."
"So if I were to happen across one of your investigations and put some details together for myself, that would be fair game?" I'm catching on to what he's telling me.
"And if I were to come with you, it would be in an unofficial capacity. I wouldn't be acting under CyberLife,
so there would be no harm in helping."
"I don't want to get you into trouble."
There's that small smile again, like I've issued a challenge and he's only too eager to accept. "If you learn something about deviants, I can always report back to CyberLife. It could help further our investigations."
"So we're agreed that we'd make good partners?" I ask, my smile returning. This time it doesn't fade.
He sticks out his hand, and I clasp it. "Partners."
