Jericho's communal area wasn't much by most standards. Situated in the belly of the scrapped ship, the wide and open area had been the loading area once before the first androids that had arrived here had used empty crates and torn fabrics to separate the wide space into different sections. Staircases led up to the other parts of the ship, making the communal area the central hub of the deviant androids' base.
It wasn't much: It was dark, narrow and sometimes even a little bit oppressive, but with every change, every little tweak by one of the deviants living here, it became more of a home, more of a space that was uniquely theirs.
Daniel stoop atop the bridge and looked down on the floor underneath him where a few androids were bustling around or sitting around construction lamps in small groups. Currently, there was not much going on. They were waiting for the Raveners to come back – that was the name those androids that had gone out to steal and collect resources were called now by the others. In the meantime, everyone else was thinking about what step should be the next to be taken.
The PL600 had a few ideas, but right now he had other things on his mind. Connor's call had riled him up, induced an all compassing anxiety that he couldn't quite shake off. He was waiting for the other android to call him back and tell him how the situation had been resolved.
"Fancy finding you here." Daniel turned around to see North on the other side of the bridge, slowly walking towards him. When they finally stood in front of each other, they stood right in the middle of the platform, behind them the wide linen on which a projector was showing Channel 16.
"I thought I'd walk around a little bit," Daniel told her. "Can't stay cooped up in my bunk all the time." He smiled at her, strained.
"I totally get it," North replied. "Sometimes you just have to get amongst people. It's…"
"Breaking News: A car chase between law enforcement and a malfunctioning android has led to the closure of Gratiot Avenue/Edmore Drive. Property damage far exceeds 100,000 Dollars," the news anchors voice announced. "According to sources a malfunctioning KL900, which is a unit designed for social care, had taken a police officer hostage and was trying to flee the city when it was stopped by a new kind of android that was specially designed to hunt down these androids." The frame switched, showing an intersection covered in debris, the burnt down husk of a car still smoking. "We've reached out to Cyberlife for comment and the company did indeed confirm that such a model exists but declined to comment further. According to sources the new model is Cyberlife's response to the increasing problem of malfunctioning and dangerous androids. The DCDP meanwhile told our reporter that no one has been harmed during or after the chase and that the malfunctioning KL900 has been taken in by Cyberlife. Stay on for when we pose the question 'Fiendly Friend: How dangerous are our androids?' to our panel of experts…"
Cold dread pooled in Daniel's stomach as he took in the pictures. "I need to go."
"Daniel, wait!" North called after him, but Daniel had already fled the bridge and was storming up the stairs. He entered the hallway leading to the room he had chosen for himself. He barely made it to his room before he leaned against the wall and just slid down on the ground.
Something bad had happened. He tried to call Connor, but no connection could be established. Daniel could feel his processors overclocking. Warnings popped up, warning him of heat starting to accumulate in his processors, but he couldn't do anything to stop it. He tried to connect to Connor again and was about to give up when suddenly the connection was established.
'Connor,' Daniel spoke.
'This is not Connor,' a female voice replied. 'I'm an associate of his.'
'I saw the reports on the news and tried to reach him. Is he still alive?' Daniel wanted to know.
'He is currently indisposed,' the female replied. 'I don't know more. He'll reach out to you once he has recovered.'
And then the connection was severed, leaving Daniel behind in the half-darkness of his cabin with no company but his own thoughts and imagination.
Connor flexed his hand. His fingers followed suit, every phalanx delicately moving according to his will. No stutter, no sudden jerks, only a sequence of smooth movements, as if he was playing an instrument of unimaginable delicateness, trying to elicit sounds most tender for the enraptured audience.
"No lags detected," the technician standing in front of him spoke out loud. A tall woman of Asian descent with long flowy black hair that was streaked with white highlights, her eyes staring intensely at the tablet she was holding in front of her which showed her all of Connor's data. His HUD informed him that her name was Alice Talon.
Unbiddenly, the images of her unblinking eyes rose in front of Connor's mind, her face covered in blood and her white streaks stained with red. Behind her, North, standing upright, holding the still smoking gun, eyes unblinking as well, no remorse or guilt.
"She chose her side. Now let's go before the others come back."
Connor blinked – a movement so fast that even if Alice had been looking she wouldn't have noticed – and the imagine dissipated like smoke. There were only the white walls with Cyberlife's logo on it, the glass windows, the rows of screens on which pieces of code ran down like a waterfall and the technicians that bustled around like bees in their hive.
"Are all of his memories still there?" another technician threw in. "He's the first model we ever designed with upload capabilities. And this was his first 'death', so it wouldn't surprise me if something didn't sync right."
Alice looked back on her tablet. "No, everything is here. Cyberlife Cloud worked exactly as we programmed it to."
"I still don't get why we won't just call it CC," a third technician grumbled. The second technician let out a long-suffering sigh.
"You know exactly why, AJ," he said. "Adobe owns that trademark." AJ didn't reply anything and continued to type on the holographic keyboard in front of him.
"RK-800, do you remember the last thing that happened to you?" Alice wanted to know.
"During the pursuit of a fleeing deviant my previous model has been destroyed by an exploding vehicle," Connor stated without any intonation. Alice seemed satisfied and taped something on her tablet.
"Anything else from you boys?" she asked.
"Nope," AJ replied, popping the 'p'. "We're fine. All check-ups are finished, all 'I's doted and all 'T's crossed. It can go back into the wild and play police."
Alice turned back towards Connor. "You've heard him, RK800. You can go back to your assignment." She paused for a split-second. "But please refrain from getting yourself blown up again." Connor just nodded impassively. Then he stepped off the platform he was standing on and walked through the room and towards the exit with a determined gait.
As he walked along the glass hallways of the Cyberlife tower, Connor wondered if he should feel any different now that he was in a new body. In general, the concept of corporeality wasn't as ingrained in androids as it was in humans.
How could it be when your appearance could be changed on a whim, when you could live on and on as long as your central processor unit wasn't destroyed? No, an android's true self was the code that made them up, the sum of all of their experience, modifications and upgrades; layers of layers of self-learning code that continued to evolve. Connor was Connor no matter where his code was uploaded to.
And yet, Connor didn't know anything but the body he was inhabiting now. The image reflecting back from the glass walls – the brown hair and eyes, the pale skin, the lithe build of his body – was as much him as the binaries that made up all he was.
So, should he feel different? In a sense he was no longer himself, after all. But as he walked out of the tower and onto the courtyard, waiting for his taxi to arrive, Connor realised that he wasn't feeling different at all. And maybe that was enough and he shouldn't question it. Just take it for granted and go with it.
Nevertheless, he ran his own diagnostic programs over his new body to scan for any hidden code Cyberlife might have smuggled onto his new body. He found none. They must be pretty confident that Amanda and the Zen Garden would be enough to keep him in check if push came to shove.
Thinking of Amanda reminded Connor of his recent failure. She had been right, he had become too confident, the data for his predictions too biased towards a positive outcome. He had become too reliant on them and hadn't even noticed their skewered outcomes. He had corrected the algorithms, but that didn't mean that the knowledge didn't sting; didn't mean that he could keep that tiny sliver of self-doubt from creeping into his mind.
The self-driving taxi arriving tore Connor out of his self-contemplation. It was around midday, so Connor entered the DCPD Central Station's address into the console. Hank should be there right now and besides, Connor didn't have anywhere else to go. He didn't really want to go back to Amanda's home; he didn't feel like it and also, he didn't want to face Ralph or any other deviant for that matter right now. To recent was his failure to protect one of their own from Cyberlife that he could look another deviant in the eyes.
Connor didn't look forward to telling Daniel what happened with his friend. Connor had planned to proceed with her the same way he had with Nick: Take her into custody and then let her escape in a way that couldn't be traced back to him, but that had backfired spectacularly when Maria had taken him out and therefore had rendered him unable to keep Cyberlife from snatching her up right from the crime scene.
He would tell Daniel. But not right now. For now, as the car drove through the city towards their destination, no sound from outside penetrating the silence within, Connor could just imagine that the world outside didn't exist – was just a simulation – and neither did all of the problems and expectations. The car body was the barrier that kept it all from barrelling down on him and he would enjoy it as long as he could before he had to face the real world again.
Connecting with the car's network, Connor switched on the radio to whatever the last rider had listened to. He could just listen in directly, but there was something more soothing about listening to music over speakers, as if this was what the music was truly made for. Instantly the harmonies filled the air.
Connor didn't care much for the lyrics or the mood the song was trying to transport, but music always reminded him of the beauty that was still in this world, even if it was elusive. Someone had poured their whole soul, their whole creativity into it and created something instead of destroying.
"Art creates bridges," he could hear Markus whisper as if he was right there with Connor. "It doesn't matter what kind of person the artist was – most artists were products of their times and terribly flawed, like we all are – but their creations bring people of all kind together even long after their death. That is power, too."
Connor looked at the wall of the dilapidated wall they were standing in front of. They had been hiding here for two days already and were soon to meet up with North and Hank. In the meantime, Markus had found some old spray cans and used them to paint one of the walls that was mostly still intact and not covered with vines. It was stupid and against any common sense: It was a clear indicator that they had been here and no one would see it anyway, but Connor didn't particular care.
"Do you want that for yourself, too?" Connor asked.
"I would settle for bringing people together right now," Markus joked weakly. "But yeah, it would be nice. If one day, someone stood here we're standing now, and sees the same as us. And even though we'll never met, we'll still be connected by the emotions we felt in this place."
Connor tilted his head, leaning it on Markus' shoulder. "One day people will look at you and see nothing but an artist. And they will value you for your art and not for what you are forced to do now."
"And one day people will look at you and see nothing but a protector," Markus replied, taking Connor's hand and squeezing it. "And they will value you for your mind and not for what you are forced to do now." A sad smile played on Connor's lips. It was a nice vision, but he doubted would ever come to pass.
"It's definitely a nice thought," he whispered. And then there was silence as they stood quietly next to each other, hands clasped together, Connor's head on Markus' shoulder as they took in the mural the latter had painted, illuminated by the orange sunlight that shone through the grime covered windows.
Art – no matter if paintings, music or anything else – always brought back the brightest and best memories of Markus and that was why Connor didn't fight against those thoughts.
The car came to a halt. The door opened and Connor found himself in front of the stairwell leading up to the DCPD headquarters. Chris Miller was the first officer in the bullpen who noticed Connor.
"Last time I saw you, you were just charred meat," he stated. "Practically dead."
"I got better," Connor couldn't help but deadpan. Next to Chris, Tina Chen guffawed.
"If only all of us could come back from that," she added after she had herself back under control. "Would make work a lot easier."
"It would have been better if you stayed dead," a third, unwelcome voice added. Gavin Reed was sitting behind his own desk. "Though you can't really die, can you, because you aren't even alive to begin with."
Sometimes Connor wanted nothing more than – as North had loved to say – 'to cut a bitch', but the old Connor, the machine, the android sent by Cyberlife would just smile on and ignore Reed, because he didn't really understand, wasn't even able to really comprehend.
"You are right, Detective," Connor replied politely. "Legally, I cannot die." He looked down on Reed's desk, scanning the files that were strewn all over it. "The missing link is the victim's purse. You will find it underneath this dumpster." He pointed at the picture. "In it you will find all the proof you need to arrest his husband."
Reed gaped at him. "How did you know that?" Connor knew that it was petty to use his foreknowledge to solve a case he and Hank had worked on in the old timeline, but it was one of the few ways he could trip up Reed without betraying himself. And damn, did it feel good. He could practically feel Amanda's annoyance leaking from whatever corner of his mind she had taken residence in, but right now he didn't really care.
"Do not worry, Detective," Connor replied amicably. "Studies have shown that age and stress can take their toll even on the most successful, so I can only conclude that they must have an even greater impact on you, who is ranked only seventh in this precinct."
Reed's face turned to an ugly shade of red and for a moment it really looked like he was about to throw himself at Connor (which wouldn't have worked anyway. Connor had already predicted all possible attacks and how to counter them), but then he just angrily took the file on his desk and shuffled out of the bullpen.
Connor, meanwhile, turned back towards Chris and Tina. "Where might I find Lieutenant Anderson?"
"Hank's with Captain Fowler," Tina replied. "Probably getting chewed out again for getting you…well, destroyed."
Connor frowned. "The Lieutenant is not at fault for that."
"We all know," Chris assured him. "The Captain and the Lieutenant have been friends probably longer than most of us are even working here. Fowler shouting at Hank is just his way of showing that he cares." Even though he had been deviant for longer than he had been a machine, sometimes Connor still couldn't understand humans and their peculiarities.
"I'll be waiting at my desk then." The desk opposite of Hank's which was just empty. Connor would have liked to place a few plants there – he was quite fond of succulents – but an unfeeling robot wouldn't care for plants or how his work space looked. So, instead he just sat down, intent on waiting for Hank.
He should use the free time to contact Daniel and keep him apprised of the situation. Even though, Connor didn't really want to. He established the connection which Daniel immediately picked up.
'Connor, are you alright?' Daniel immediately asked. 'What happened?...What happened with Maria?'
'What do you know already?' Connor asked, still trying to come up with a way to get the news across gently.
'It was in the news,' Daniel told him. 'No human injured they said. Not a single word about the androids.' There was bitterness in his voice; bitterness Connor could understand all too well. 'They said she was taken in by Cyberlife.'
'She survived,' Connor said. 'But indeed, Cyberlife has her now.'
There was a moment of silence. 'So, she's lost?'
'For now,' Connor admitted with heavy heart. 'Cyberlife has tightened its security after I helped you escape. We need to wait for the right moment before we do anything.' And then, to assuage Daniel's worries at least a little bit. 'They won't deactivate her. They're trying to understand deviants, so they'll keep her alive. I have someone on the inside who will stall their progress, so she's safe for now…or as safe as circumstances allow.' He swallowed. 'Is there a chance you can meet me? I want to show you my encounter with her in person.'
Connor could just as easily send Daniel the files and have him watch it by himself. It would be less dangerous, more logical. But if he had learned anything from Markus in his old timeline, then it was that sometimes people needed their leaders to be there in person in order to keep their faith. You couldn't just give orders and expect them to be followed.
He could just leave Daniel on his own with this new development, but that would mean leaving him alone with his doubts, fears and maybe even his anger at Connor for not having been able to save his friend. Being there for Daniel was the empathetic reason; making sure that his loyalty to Connor didn't waver the cynical one.
'I see what I can do,' Daniel replied after a few seconds. 'I need to make sure that the others won't get suspicious.'
'Alright,' Connor replied and then the connection was severed.
When he looked up, he saw Hank walking down the stairs that led to Fowley's office.
"So, guess death really doesn't stick with you, does it?" Hank said nonchalantly as he let himself fall into his own chair. "Must be nice to know that no matter what you get spun up again eventually."
"Legally and biologically speaking androids are unable to die," Connor pointed out, repeating Reed's earlier observation. "But you are right, Lieutenant, in that it is indeed very convenient and efficient. It saves a lot of time if my replacement is ready immediately."
Hank stared at him for a few moments before he leaned back and let out a harrumph. "Enough of that philosophical chitchat. We have a new assignment, straight from the top."
"What is it?" Connor wanted to know.
"We're gonna pay a visit to your creator," Hank replied. "Elijah Kamski has asked for us."
The video in front of them was paused, the frozen image showing the burnt-out car, still smoking, police officers swarming around, bystanders craning their necks to get a better look from behind the police tape. It didn't look any different from all the other police reports Markus had seen over the course of his life, even though it had been only a few, because Carl hadn't liked to watch them. He hadn't liked to be enthralled by the suffering of others.
"So, Cyberlife has reacted to our existence," Simon spoke. "But not like we thought they would."
"I always thought they would try to solve the issue via software," Josh added. "And if that didn't work sending the law enforcement after us. But I'd never thought they'd built an android platform specially designed to hunt us down."
Markus looked back on the screen, the cogs in his mind turning. It was only a small sentence, barely a few seconds of the report, but it was the most important part to the androids of Jericho. They hadn't shown anything about this deviant hunter and from the images you could barely make out the faint outlines of a burned figure lying next to the car.
He wondered what this deviant hunter probably looked like. Markus doubted they would be big and brute like North had theorised. No, deep down Markus just knew that this new android wouldn't be imposing or anything like that. They would be graceful and swift, a silent hunter who hid their strength behind fragility. Someone who could charm and smile and hide their deadly logic behind a façade of innocence. Someone no one would expect.
"It doesn't matter," North spoke. "We need to adjust our strategies."
"But how?" Simon retorted. "We can't change anything as long as we don't know exactly what our opponent is capable of. That would be just blind actionism." Markus looked over to Daniel, who hadn't said anything until now. He was withdrawn and seemed to follow the conversation only half-heartedly, as if is mind was somewhere else. Markus wanted to ask him what was going on, but he realised that this meeting wasn't the right place for that. Afterwards.
"We do know something. Something important," Markus finally spoke up. "They're working for the police. That tells us their angle: They're looking for those deviants that get reported to the police. The violent ones, the desperate ones, the ones whose escape was especially daring. They're not looking for information; they're waiting for the information to come to them. Like a spider in the middle of its web."
"So, we're not in danger then?" Josh piped up, hope tinting his voice.
Markus shock his head. "We definitely are. We need to change our welcome routine. We need to make sure that none of the androids coming to us were sent by the police and their deviant hunter."
"We have to put them in quarantine before we bring them to Jericho," North finished his thoughts. "Some outlying safe houses where we can hold them before we allow them to continue to Jericho itself."
Markus nodded. "Simon, Daniel." Both androids looked up at him. "Can you do that? Search for places where we can hide an ever-growing flow of androids from prying eyes?" He received two affirmative nods in return.
"I'll ask Hunter," Daniel replied. "He has the resources to save us a lot of walking and breaking and entering."
"Do that," Markus agreed. "And ask him if he knows anything about this new deviant hunter." For a split-second Daniel's expression changed, but underneath the dim light condition Markus could barely make it out before it vanished again. Maybe it was just a figment of his imagination.
"Josh, you'll be continuing to monitor Jericho," Markus continued. "Continue with repurposing the different areas for our needs. For example, our infirmary can't just be a small room we cordoned off the main area with some dirty rags. There's enough space on this ship." Josh nodded. "Maybe you can even decorate the common area. It's still a little bit gloomy down there." A round of chuckling wen through the group.
"And what are we gonna be doing?" North asked, playing with her braid, innocence personified, but she was fooling no one.
Markus flashed a smile at her, all teeth and no warmth. "We two are gonna hunt ourselves a deviant hunter."