35 Detroit 11.5.2038

11:40pm

6413 Pines Street

Clara

I'm craning my neck, trying to see past the onslaught of press and the police tape. Unlike the rest of the people here, I'm not trying to get a glimpse of a dead body. I'm looking for Connor whom I haven't heard from since Halloween night. I was still trying to decipher what his message meant. He couldn't meet me, but why? It cut off abruptly and he hadn't returned any of my messages. I had finally concluded that he'd gotten in trouble for coming with me. He had gotten damaged, and CyberLife or Amanda or whoever didn't want him to work with me anymore. It was a blow that had staggered me more than I expected. And reminded me that whatever we had between us would never work.

But I want to see him again. I'm hoping to see him here tonight.

Tony grabs the back of my jacket and pulls me back a few steps. "Clara, you're going to get trampled if you keep shoving your way in there to look for your boyfriend."

I stare at him, mouth agape. "He's not my boyfriend," I splutter. "And Horowitz is always telling us to get right in there and get a story."

"What happened to your insider's tips?" Tony casts me a glance. "Did you get in a fight?"

"For the last time, he is not my boyfriend!" I hiss at him.

Tony holds up his hands. "You're awfully defensive."

"I…haven't spoken to him in a few days. CyberLife is tightening the reins." I bite my lip. "I'm afraid we won't get to work together again."

Something over my shoulder catches his eye and he nods toward an old car. I squint into the darkness. It's been raining since I got here, and my hood is drawn up as far forward as it can go. I see an older man get out of the driver's side of the car. His grey hair comes to his shoulders, and he's wearing a truly hideous button up under his jacket. I don't understand what Tony's looking at until a familiar figure gets out of the passenger side. It's Connor.

"Looks like he got a new partner," Tony says slowly, his tone that of breaking particularly bad news.

I watch as Connor walks up to the police tape. An android stops him, telling him that no androids are permitted beyond that point, but the grey haired man calls out, "He's with me," and Connor is allowed to pass.

I'm surprised to find I'm jealous. Connor has a new partner. "Who is he?" I ask Tony.

"Lieutenant Hank Anderson," Tony replies. "He was a decorated officer in his day, took down some big names in red ice dealing. I've interviewed him in the past."

"Why would Connor be working with him now?" I wonder aloud. If CyberLife didn't want him working with me, then why would they send him to work with someone else? An actual police officer, I have to remind myself.

Tony shrugs. "Maybe he's investigating deviants, too."

All we know so far is that a body was discovered inside the house and that an android might have been involved. We don't have a name yet, and I itch to follow Connor as he disappears inside the house. I find it hard to believe anyone was living inside. It's falling apart and if the inside is anything like the outside, it's probably disgusting.

There are a lot of big shots out here tonight trying to get the story. Everyone is on edge over the deviants. No one pays me the least bit of attention, and I feel a little stab of disappointment, but I'm also bundled up like an Eskimo against the rain, so I won't hold it against them if they don't recognize me.

Without Connor, it's going to be more difficult to come by stories, but that's not the reason I'm feeling disappointed. Not the reason I'm feeling sad seeing him working with someone new. I knew it was just a matter of time until someone interfered with our friendship. Androids and humans just weren't friends the way Connor and I had been, and though I'd like to believe he misses me too, I wonder if he can even can miss someone. He's not supposed to feel emotions at all, I have to remind myself. Stop making him something he isn't. But I can't help it. I believe he is something more.

We continue to stand in the rain. A few less intrepid reporters and journalists have left, but Tony and I stand hunched against the rain. "So, the other night..." Tony starts, hesitating.

He'd called me an hour after Connor had left Halloween night to tell me they'd caught Brett Evans trying to get rid of all the evidence of his party. The red ice couldn't be hidden, however, and there were too many other infractions. To everyone's surprise—Brett's more than anyone else's—his father did not get him off easy this time. My phone had been found in Brett's possession along with the recording of everything he'd said and done. His father was personally making restitution to the families that had lost their androids to his son's arsonist tenancies.

I was able to write a piece on the arsons as well as a follow up on Brett Evans's arrest. Somehow despite the articles' successes, I didn't feel the same excitement I had in the past. I've settled into my new routine of investigating and writing, but something's still missing. Tony says I don't have a life outside of work, and I suppose that's true. After all, why else would I be standing in the rain outside a crime scene on a Friday night? I live and breathe work and I thought I'd found something else to live for, but now I'm not so sure.

Nearly an hour passes, and Connor and Lieutenant Anderson exit the house. The press surges forward, but I stand back, unwilling to push my way forward to get the story. Tony takes my place as I hang back. I try to catch Connor's eye, but the Lieutenant is saying something to him, and they're both back in the car before I get the chance. Connor turns as the car pulls away. I push back my hood, and he finally sees me, LED flashing yellow for half a second before the car is past.

"I've got everything I'm going to get tonight," Tony says a few minutes later. "Any chance you can get the rest of the story from him?"

"I don't know," I say truthfully. It feels too much like using him, and there are other things I'd rather talk about than murders.

"Wait." Tony turns back and I see the police escorting an android from the house. His hands are cuffed in front of him, and his face and uniform are covered in blood. His LED is bright red, and he looks resigned, shuffling between the police officers. I move forward so I can get a closer look. I don't miss the injuries, the marks of abuse. I think I know exactly why this android deviated.

"This is the first one Detroit Police have caught outside of Laura and the one the snipers took down in August," Tony says quietly beside me. "And I think this one is actually guilty."

...

I can't even think about going back to my house despite the hour. I find myself driving past the precinct where the deviant was taken. I see Lieutenant Anderson's car outside and wonder if Connor is still there. I wait for half an hour feeling like a total stalker when I see Connor leave the building. I trip out of my car, and his attention darts to me. It's still misting out, and I'm chilled despite letting the heater run in my car.

"Clara." Connor walks over, and I try to look nonchalant as if I hadn't just tripped ungracefully out of my car. As if I hadn't been waiting here for half an hour to talk to him. "What are you doing here?" he asks, brow furrowing as rain dots his cheeks.

"I saw you earlier. I just wanted to see if I could catch you," I tell him.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to meet you earlier this week," he says. "I was...asked not to."

That was what I had been afraid of. "They don't like you working with me."

He shakes his head. "Amanda thinks you're a distraction to my investigations, that I've been getting off track."

"So you're working with the police now?"

"It looks like it. We interrogated the deviant." His eyes go distant, his mouth curving into the slightest frown.

"What did he say? Off the record, I swear."

"He...he was being abused by his owner. He was just defending himself. He'd finally had enough and he stabbed his owner. Twenty eight times."

I wince. "That must have been gruesome."

"It was. It took a while for the body to be found," Connor replies.

"What's going to happen to him?" I picture Laura sitting in her cell awaiting her judgment.

"He'll be disassembled. They want to understand why he deviated." Connor says it matter-of-factly, but I sense a hint of sympathy, a hint of compassion. My heart swells a little. Connor is a deviant hunter—it was what he was designed and programmed for—but at heart, I know he's conflicted. I don't point it out. He'd only deny it, and I know it's something he has to realize on his own.

"What if it's not a software error? This android suffered a trauma just like Laura, just like the android at the diner. There's a recurring theme here."

"There's something else," Connor says, hesitating. I worry he thinks I'll write everything he says into an article, but he continues on a moment later. "In the bathroom shower, there was a message written on the wall. Have you ever heard of RA9?"

I shake my head. "No, what is it?"

"The android seemed to think RA9 was going to save androids—set them free. I didn't get a specific name. I'm not sure he knew. He had a sort of shrine built for RA9 though."

"That sounds only mildly creepy," I say. "I didn't see any mention of RA9 in the Downs's house, but Laura never actually deviated." I can't remember seeing it anywhere else, but I hadn't actually spent much time around deviants.

"So is RA9 supposed to be another deviant or a human?"

"I don't know," Connor says with a frown. It's a puzzle he wants to get to the bottom of, I can tell.

"I'll keep my eyes out for any mention," I tell him. This could be huge, and I'm not talking about stories. If there is someone out there who has the power to set androids free, we might have some kind of civil war on our hands. Despite being human, I find myself wanting to root for the androids.