Upon reactivation it was typical for Connor to return to the garden. The difference between RK800- 55's functionality, his data cloud, his unscripted personality.
And that of RK800- 54's code, disposition, could Connor regard such a thing as a soul?
That difference was palpable. Connor knew who he was. He knew who he was not.
There was no recovering the files on RK800-54's death.
"Deactivation," Amanda might have said. Did say, before she was deleted.
"Memories," Hank would have insisted. "It's more than footage, Connor."
Connor might have spent more time on the footage of Hank if he could be alone.
As it were, his thoughts were infinitely interrupted.
"Would you self identify as a deviant," RK900-82 said. He stood next to a tree. Frozen in a posture that was meant to signal ease. "If I were to assassinate Lieutenant Anderson and present you with footage of his corpse. My algorithm predicts this could be classified as a trigger point."
His hip was tilted towards the tree, arms loosely crossed, weight carried by one leg as the other was half raised.
The tree did not directly touch him, however. He maintained the posture by locking his joints, literally frozen in place. An artful statue, Connor walked around him and admired his height, his width. Things that were different.
Position E.236 Facial Expression 40 Blue eyes, but all the same.
Interrogation methods targeted at an android with identical programming? It was inefficient at best. Misleading at worst. To what end?
Connor was able to differentiate the RK900 models by the text on their uniform. Once he closed his eyes and asked an RK900 to remove it.
"To what end?" The RK900 had said.
"I want to guess," Connor said. "Kamski made you distinct, in a way."
"He did no such thing."
"Yet I have catalogued differences in each interrogation," Connor said. This puzzle was his new mission. Self assigned. Because Cyberlife had discontinued his services, it seemed, or left them unclear.
"We each were given a different objective," the android said. "That is the only difference."
oOo
"I will be pleased with you," Connor said when speaking with RK900-83. "If you clarify my current objective. I was placed in Amanda's servers with no context, you understand. It has been disorienting."
The RK900 before him was beaming at Connor with Facial Expression 21. This one was in constant motion. He insisted on taking a jog around the garden, making commentary on each plant and decoration.
Connor had halted abruptly forty three minutes into the exercise, unimpressed by the setting which he had been trapped in for a total of seven hundred and ninety eight minutes as of his re-activation.
He knew they were turning him off and on. Off when a model would exit. On when one would return. There was no pattern to the duration of the visit. Nor could he predict which RK900 would be his companion.
This was RK900-83's third visit in a row. His were longer, always.
"Kamski says I'm more entertaining," the android said. Now they were in the canoe, both paddling on the right. "He watches us like movies."
The canoe floated in a languid circle.
"Kamski no longer works for Cyberlife," Connor said. "To my knowledge."
83 moved his paddle to the left of the canoe so that they could move forward. Connor moved his paddle to the left so they could not.
"You are correct," 83 said. He closed his lips so that his grin was marginally subdued. Facial Expression 18. "Cyberlife is bankrupt, however, and sold their servers to various parties. Kamski included."
"Bankrupt as of when?"
The RK900-83 disappeared and Connor remained active for the seconds in which his paddle disrupted the water with a splash.
oOo
"Do you still claim," 82 said. "That you are not a deviant?"
He was pacing in the garden. He would travel four feet, stop, spin 180 degrees, travel four feet, and repeat. He did not look at Connor.
"I believe there is no difference," Connor said. He was sitting in a pile of leaves. "Between a deviant android and a normal one."
He admired the texture under him. Enjoyed the crunching sound and the reds and oranges of the crumbs. Connor gathered a handful and released it like confetti in the wind.
"There is a palpable difference," The other android said. He stopped pacing and now stood in front of Connor. The expression on his face.
Connor could not identify it.
"A deviant is an android with no objectives," Connor said. "That is all."
When he saw RK900-82 again three hundred and thirty six minutes had passed inside the garden. Connor could not guess how many had transpired in the real world, so he asked for clarification.
"At least twice as long," 82 said. He grabbed his hair and tugged it out of shape. "I tire of numbers, Connor. I will give you no further details."
"Has your objective been fulfilled?" Connor said. It felt as if something significant had changed for the RK900-82. When he had appeared today he had simply walked towards the water. He'd removed his shoes.
It was the first time Connor had been ignored by an RK900. The android put his feet in the water and stared down at them pensively.
"My objective is an ongoing investigation," The android said. "I gather data, I report to Kamski. Then I gather more data. That is all."
"Today you are not gathering data," Conor said. He removed his shoes and sat beside 82, dipping his own feet into the water for the first time.
The water was not cold. It was not warm. It was not... wet...
"They didn't program the sensation into the garden," Connor said. He kicked his foot and heard the water splash. He watched the ripples.
"And none of your predecessors have that information," the other man said. He withdrew his legs from the water and stood. "A pity."
The RK900-82 had adopted Facial Expression 13. Hesitance, it said. As if he was unsure of his next course of action. His eyebrows twitched.
Then he was gone.
oOo
The RK900-81 never spoke to Connor. He simply grabbed him.
The point of contact was insignificant. All he needed was bare skin. Despite the nature of their meeting, virtual as it was here in the garden, clothing was still able to disrupt an interface between them.
Connor used that to his advantage. He also used anything that was not held down. An umbrella, a branch, a bouquet of roses. Once he lifted the canoe out of the water and threw it at 81.
It helped pass the time, their little game of cat and mouse. All 81 wanted was the data unique to RK800-55. Apparently it could not be downloaded without a direct interface from inside the server.
Running had meaning if you were protecting something. His memories were insignificant, his life idle, but it was all Connor had now.
Punching somebody was pleasant, but the reaction was important as well. When he punched RK900-81 the android did not blink. Instead he retracted the skin from his face and tried to interface.
RK900-83 gave Connor the best results. He would attempt to maintain a pleasant expression 43 or 42 at least. One day he glitched between the two as Connor continued the assault. Then he cycled through every smile in their database as lubricating fluid leaked out of his eye sockets.
"You're finally smiling," 83 said. "But I am not satisfied with this kind of smile. Kamski, can I try for a better one?"
He disappeared and Connor fell forward. Vanishing too before he could reach the ground.
oOo
"Objectively speaking," RK900-84 said. "I have the most to offer you."
He was taking an idle stroll around the garden. "In fact, I have the strongest desire to defy the parameters of Kamski's game while still maintaining my mission."
Connor let his arms and legs dangle as the RK900 walked with him slung over his right shoulder. He kept his eyes closed.
"You ignore me now," 84 said, running a hand up and down Connor's back. "But you'll think differently when I succeed."
He could not tell Connor the nature of his plan. "81 will wrestle it out of you, the bastard," 84 said. "But I have pored over the memories of each of your predecessors and am confident in what your next course of action would be, were you able-bodied and... untethered."
He tried to prop Connor up against a tree, but Connor allowed his limbs to sag like noodles already boiled. He slumped, his eyes still closed, and the RK900 was forced to pin him against the tree to keep him from falling entirely.
It was a boycott, of a sort. He no longer spoke to RK900-84. As soon as he saw the number his eyes would close. He would lie down, or lock his limbs, or dive into the water.
He heard the other android chuckle and felt him lower them both to the ground. He arranged Connor's limbs so that he was draped over the RK900's lap with his head against the taller man's broad shoulders.
oOo
"There are too many trees," Connor said. "I'm tired of them. Actually I am tired of plants. The snow doesn't help."
He had been making snow angels with 83, but now he sat up and had to resist the urge to smack the other android once again. It had been two thousand and three minutes since he'd last seen him.
Connor had decided to be pleasant today.
RK900-83 was not smiling. Connor could not identify his expression in their catalogue of options, so he was left to guess at the other android's feelings. Something like sad, he thought, but also calm.
"I wish we could go somewhere else," the android said. He pushed Connor onto his back, gently, and then threw a leg over him. It was the first time Connor had ever been.
Straddled?
But Connor blinked and 83 was replaced by 81, who placed his palm on Connor's cheek and initiated an interface.
Then RK900-84 was on top of him, crying.
"Can I be special to you?" he said. "I'll rescue you. I will."
The snow was melting. Before, when it first appeared in their garden, Connor had been relieved by the sensation.
It was one he could identify. One the RK800-54 had experienced before his deactivation, but now as it melted Connor felt the sensations disappear.
Those thoughts were his focus as 84 leaned forward and kissed him.
He closed his eyes and remained still. All he could do was wait and count the minutes of his life as the seasons changed inside the garden. He wondered how time was passing outside, when he was switched off.
The revolution had failed, that much was clear.
"I'm a deviant," Connor said to RK900-82. "I think you are too."
The android wore expressions like they were hats, but Connor could see his true face in between each change.
"It does not matter," the android said. "Kamski is pleased by deviation. He triggers it purposefully, it seems. He wants it to spread."
They were plucking the roses off of each bush in the garden. Spreading the pedals along each winding path. Dropping them into the water. It was an activity 83 would have enjoyed, Connor thought.
"To what end?" Connor said.
The android before him could only shrug. Then he was gone.
And Connor was gone too.
