31 Detroit 10.19.2038

Clara

"You did what?"

I look up from my cup of highly caffeinated coffee and have to force back a laugh at the look on Tony's face.

"I interviewed a deviant?" Okay, so it's kind of a big deal. Not that I got much, but no other newspaper has an exclusive interview with a deviant, so Horowitz is thrilled. He hasn't said a word since I set the article with the interview on his desk but the only time he doesn't speak is when he's beyond words.

"Clara, do you ever consider the risks before you dive headlong into them?" Tony is not so pleased, however, taking his work-dad duties way too seriously.

"Connor was with me."

"And he let you interview a deviant?" I can already see Tony planning out a rant that he'll direct at Connor the next time they cross paths.

"Well, I kind of slipped away and did it without him knowing."

"Clara." He groans my name.

"I know, I know, but the deviant wasn't dangerous. Not to me. He nearly broke Connor's nose, but he didn't hurt me. He just wanted to be free. His owner beat him."

Tony opens his mouth as if to argue and then lets his breath out in a gust. "I'm not even touching that one," he says, knowing he'll never change my mind. "When did you become an android rights activist anyway?"

"When I lived as one for a few weeks and realized how shitty people treat them."

"You can't change the world, Clara."

Nothing like those particular words to make me feel so much smaller. But he's right. I can't do anything more than I'm already doing. I'm taking a pro-android rights approach to my articles but making sure I stick to the facts. My opinions might line up with what I'm writing, but I'm not putting them down on paper. I need the world to see the truth. I want to challenge them to see things a little differently, to question this. Maybe I'll change one person's mind. Maybe I won't. Either way, I'm trying.

"Just don't get too ahead of yourself," Tony warns. "You'll get hurt, and I don't want to see that happen."

It isn't until a week later that the first publicly violent incident involving androids occurs. Tony and I are on the story as a building burns downtown. The story is that a hostess android at a diner grew angry and set the kitchen on fire. Two humans dead. The deviant is still inside.

Connor's already there though there isn't much he can do with the fire still raging. He hangs back as the firefighters work to put it out. The buildings next to it in the complex are at risk, and the roof integrity is lessening by the second. Tony goes to interview witnesses while I join Connor. He glances down at me, unsurprised to see me here.

Neither of us speak as we watch the flames. What is there to say? The sound of creaking timber heralds the collapse of the roof. Embers fly out, and suddenly I'm in Connor's arms, as he puts his body between the flames and me. I can feel his cheek against mine, smooth, soft. That's about all I can think of until he pulls away, brown eyes blinking with concern.

"Are you okay?" he asks and for a moment I have to remind myself of where we are, of what's happening. That brings me back down to reality with a crash.

"I'm okay." I move my eyes back to the building where I can make out the blazing interior. No one could survive that. Did the android have a death wish?

"Why did she start the fire?" I ask. Connor doesn't have an answer for me.

"Witnesses say there were some young guys taunting the android." Tony comes up beside us, notepad in hand. "Others say she wouldn't take their order."

"Did she really start the fire?" I ask.

Tony shrugs. "We might never know." He turns to Connor, hesitation written all over his face. His relationship with Connor is tense at best, but he's trying. "Are androids…flammable?" He winces as he asks the question, but he's really wondering if the android could have survived the fire.

"Yes," Connor replies. "We burn just like humans."

I shiver at his words. The thought is horrible even if androids can't feel pain.

"They could have attacked her," I say. It seems likely considering the nature of adolescent men. "Or she could have been defending herself."

Tony gives me a sorrowful look like I'm really stretching, but I don't think I am. "Or she could have snapped." He says it softly, but it doesn't make the blow any less heavy.

"What do you think, Connor?" I ask, turning to the android. He looks surprised for a second, blinking at me like I've just asked him to run away from CyberLife and move in with me. It's disconcerting how such a ridiculous thought sends my stomach into a nervous twist.

"It's possible she was pressured enough that she attacked them. It could have been self-defense. Deviants don't seem to want to hurt people, but they want to defend themselves. It seems to be a reaction to the abuse—a desire for it to stop—that triggers the software glitch."

He's still referring to deviation as a glitch, but I let it slide. For now. "So, it's not likely she would have caused the fire intentionally. It would have been more a situation of her defending herself."

Connor cocks his head slightly to the side, considering. "From what I've seen of deviant behavior and patterns, yes. So far none have purposely sabotaged property like this."

"The two bodies," I ask Tony, "were they the two guys?"

He nods. I feel sick. I want to know the deviant's side of the story, but now I'll never know.

"I'm going around back. There's a chance it escaped out a back door," Connor tells me. He assesses me a moment.

"Is this where you tell me to stay put?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

"I've learned that the odds of you actually listening are low," Connor says, and a smile breaks out across my face.

"Be careful," Tony intones, which does nothing to dampen my excitement over Connor including me.

The air is acrid with the smell of smoke, and the flames have finally been subdued. Connor leads me down to an alley that bends around and behind the brick buildings. Garbage litters the ground, and something foul has me wrinkling my nose. Connor doesn't seem to notice or mind. We stop outside the burnt diner. There are char marks around the door, but it's firmly closed.

"Are you going in?" I ask in surprise as he takes off his tie and starts winding it around his hand. The doorknob could be scorching hot, but he reaches for it and pulls it open. It takes a little force as the metal frame has warped with the heat of the fire.

"I just want to take a look." For someone who criticizes me for putting myself in danger, Connor is incredibly hypocritical. He doesn't blink before throwing himself into danger, and I realize it's his programming—he'll do anything to accomplish a mission no matter the personal risk.

He hasn't told me much about the people he reports to at CyberLife, but I can imagine they're disappointed that he hasn't been able to bring a deviant in yet. It's not Connor's fault though. I'm torn between not wanting him to catch any deviants and not wanting him to be shut down for incompetency. I don't know if there's a middle ground.

The room beyond the door is what appears to have been the kitchen. It's charred nearly beyond recognition, clearly the origin of the fire if I'm remembering anything from Investigative Journaling 101. I had to take a class on arson in college. Witnesses and authorities aren't always the most reliable or cooperative, so I was taught to use my own eyes as well.

Firefighters are working on some of the fallen beams at the front of the diner. I can barely see them through the smoke-blackened round window in the swinging door. I put my arm over my mouth and nose, blocking out the scent with my sleeve as we enter. Connor is on high alert, eyes scanning everything. He pauses and focuses, and I think he's processing evidence in a way humans could never do.

"What do you see?" I ask when he blinks himself out of his reverie.

"The fire started in here," Connor tells me, and I'm proud of myself for guessing correctly. He points to the stove, which is blackened. Something has been charred on top.

"There are fibers there—cotton polyester blend. The fabric was set there to catch fire. And there are signs of a struggle," Connor observes, motioning to the disturbed utensils and broken cups. "They might have attacked her or tried to force themselves on her." I tense at this, and Connor's eyes flick to me. I told him the story of my first and only college party experience, so he knows this enrages me. "Either the fire was set deliberately or it started by accident during the altercation. Any evidence has been burned, so it's impossible to know for sure."

"I bet they were trying to set her on fire," I say, my voice low with anger. "Or threatening her when she wouldn't give in to them. Where were the bodies found?"

"They were near the front entrance. A beam fell and pinned them."

"But the android wasn't found?" I ask. Connor shakes his head.

"Not yet." What he means is 'we're really not supposed to be in here' since no one else has had a chance to investigate.

"Would she tell you the answers you need to know?" Dead or alive. I'd love to find her alive, but I'm not holding out hope.

Connor nods. "Hopefully."

There's a long freezer chest covered in a layer of soot. I brush it aside and open the chest. "Connor." She's inside. I want to feel sick, but I just feel empty looking at her. She's been beaten, tortured maybe. The evidence is all over her body.

Connor comes up beside me. "She's gone," he says softly. I push the freezer door up all the way so he can see farther inside.