Josh and Daniel were up to something.
North had come to that conclusion after she had found the two of them again whispering to each other in one of the many corners to be found on ship of the scale of Jericho. Usually, androids whispering to each other was nothing out of the ordinary, even though it was unnecessary as they could easily communicate wirelessly with each other.
What was unusual, though, was the two androids that were taking part in this cloak and dagger whispering: namely Josh and Daniel. What rouse North's suspicion even more was the fact that whenever she drew near, the two of them would stop conversing with each other and look at her all innocently and sweetly as if they did not know that North knew that they knew that she knew that they were keeping something from her.
So, the WR400 had decided that she would uncover whatever it was that Josh and Daniel were keeping from her. Even though she was already more than busy with managing all the different affairs that crept up when you were managing a revolution that was growing bigger and bigger with each passing day. That was why she had enlisted help with this mission.
"Why am I here again?" said help nagged from behind her, proving that his role in this delicate endeavour might not be as helpful as she had envisioned.
"Simon, my dearest of all of my friends, you're here to help me uncover a secret that's been vexing me for a few days already," North replied, especially friendly.
Simon, though, proved resistant to her charming attitude. "Stop smiling at me like that. It makes me think you're about to murder me in a very, very messy way. Like, psychotic break messy." North wiped the smile off her face. "Besides, it can't be that serious of an issue, because if it was, you would have brought it to Markus or the whole crew."
"Damn you and your intuition," North muttered under her breath. "Fine, have it your way then. I know that Josh and Daniel –" she pointed towards the corner where the two aforementioned androids were standing, directly behind the container she and Simon were hiding behind "- are keeping a secret. I want to know what it is."
"I know what it is," Simon quipped up.
"Really?! Tell me!" North commanded, grabbing the PL600 by the shoulders as if she was to shake the secret out of him.
"It's none of your business," Simon stated calmly. North let go of him immediately. If she was a human, there would be a throbbing vein on her temple right now, but as android her stress level just spiked up five percent.
"The next secret anyone here is going to want to solve is where to find your body," she hissed at Simon who just took her anger as calmly as he took everything else.
"Why are you so upset about this?" he wanted to know instead.
"I don't like secrets," North admitted. "They only bring trouble. Or worse, get you killed."
Simon raised an eyebrow at her.
"Do you really think that Daniel and Josh of all people would have and keep a secret that would put Jericho at risk?" he asked, exposing the ridiculousness of her argument with one simple counter question.
North shook her head. "No, not really."
"You just want to know because deep down you're a gossip," Simon teased her. "And that's also why you're so obsessed with the news."
"I'm obsessed with the news because it tells it what to watch out for," North defended herself.
"Ah, how could I forget the strategic importance of TMZ and E!," Simon replied. "Where would our operation be if we didn't know that Miley Cyrus' polyamorous marriage has increased by another person? Or how Britney Spears decides to redecorate after she's been elected to the post of Governor of California?"
Instead of having a retort to Simon's baseless assumptions, North just whacked Simon over the back of his head. "Ow!"
"What are you two doing here?" Distracted by their bickering, Daniel and Josh had noticed them and were now standing a few meters away, perfectly able to see them behind the container.
"North wants to know what you two have been up to," Simon told them, taking his sweet revenge by revealing what North and he had been doing.
"You could have just asked us," Josh wondered out loud.
North huffed in annoyance. "You know I've been dying to know."
"But you never actually asked," Josh pointed out. "I wanted to see how long it'll take you until you'd finally come around and just ask what we've been doing."
North let out a long sigh. "What are you doing?"
"We've been testing something," Daniel exclaimed with a wide smile.
"And what would that be?" Simon wanted to know; his curiosity now also piqued.
"Scan me," Daniel told them. Both Simon and North did. At first North thought that something was wrong with her analytics tool, for they told her that the Daniel standing before her was human. She scanned him again and again – four times to really make sure – but every result told her the same: Daniel was human.
"How can that be?" she asked, astounded.
"A formula I got from Hunter a few days ago," Daniel explained. "It needs a lot of specialised ingredients, so Josh and I didn't think we'd be able to produce it anytime soon, but then one team came back with quite a few chemicals from that apothecary, so we decided to give it a try. It was just enough for one android, so I volunteered. We had some trusted androids in Jericho scan me and I always came up as human."
North turned towards Josh. "And you knew about this?"
Josh nodded. "We would have come to you all tomorrow anyway. We just wanted to make sure that it was really working."
"Besides, we can't mass produce it anyway," Daniel added. "We don't have enough chemical components for that."
"We could make it a secondary objective," Simon mused. "Imagine, what we could archive if we could hide all of us like that."
"Stop it," North interrupted them. "This is not something we'll discuss in the middle of a hallway without Markus."
She glared at Daniel. "The next time your mysterious benefactor offers you some gifts with apparently no strings attached, don't keep it a secret from the rest of us. It only breeds mistrust. And I've just arrived at the point where I actually trust you. Don't fuck it up."
Daniel gulped and nodded. North turned her glare on Josh. "And you? Next time anyone comes to you with such a discovery, don't keep it a secret either. We could have been strategizing how to use this new skin for days already. Understood?" Josh, too, was wise enough to not reply anything and just nodded.
"By the way," North continued. "Where is Markus anyway?"
The leader of the android revolution could be found deep in the bowels of Jericho where not many androids cared to tread. Not out of fear or anything like that but more because there just was not anything of importance located there. Despite their ever-growing operations, they still were not enough androids to put the whole ship to use.
Markus had discovered this room on one of his many scouting expeditions through the ship. It was not of any beauty or prominence; just another room with metallic walls like the dozen others that existed on Jericho. What made this room special, though, was the tear in its side which allowed some outside light to shine through and to dip the room into different coloured shades of light depending on the outside.
In the morning, it was hues of orange that cast through the crack, turning more yellow as noon neared and then back to red in the afternoon until it finally settled into a lilac or blue shade in the evening when the city and streetlights were slowly switched on. It was a spectacle Markus was not often privy to, for he had many other obligations that kept him occupied, but every now and then he would walk by and see what the room would offer him.
Today he had brought with him some white sailcloth, left-over oil, and a brush – all of which had been lying around in the ship, abandoned by the previous owner. It was not really the materials Markus was used to work with, but as Carl would say: 'A good artist can work with anything.'.
And so, Markus had hung up the sailcloth so that the whole wall was covered by it and had started to paint with the oil that they had no use for, for it was probably spoilt after all these years just lying around in the bowels of Jericho. It would be black his painting, for that was the only colour available to him, but you did not need much to create art. 'A spark is enough,' he could hear Carl whisper in the back of his head, and it made Markus smile tentatively.
Markus could not yet tell what he was painting – what he was creating. He had closed his eyes and was only focusing on the feeling of the brush beneath his fingertips, the slight pressure of the rough fabric against the tip of the brush and the smell of the rancid oil that wafted off the tapestry into the room. The sound of the brush scratching over the canvas, the ever so subtle groaning of the metal behemoth that was surrounding him.
Ever since Markus had truly realised that he had turned deviant – that he was truly a living, feeling, conscious being – painting had become even more special to him. He, the android who for all intents and purposes was never meant to be anything but a tool, was creating something that came from his own mind. From his own creativity, from his own thoughts. To Markus creating a painting was undisputable proof that he was alive.
When Markus finally opened his eyes to look at what he had created, the room's hues had turned from red to blue: Night had fallen, and it gave Markus' painting a completely different expression than it would have had during the day.
In front of him there was the skyline of Detroit, pitch black and a stark contrast to the white background of the canvas. And topping all the skyscrapers was the Cyberlife Tower that stood above it all way higher than it was in reality. It was oppressive, it was all-watching, it was the focal point of the painting like the tower was in the real city and all of it expressed how Markus felt about the corporation that created and oppressed them.
And behind the tower, hanging in the sky, were a set of eyes that seemed to both look down on the city and onto the observer. The details were not that great, for Markus had to work with inferior materials, but he instinctively knew which eyes were staring at – looking for – him.
The Deviant Hunter.
'Markus, where are you?' the wireless connection sprung to live, and he could hear North's voice. 'We have something we need your input on.' The spell was broken. Markus collected himself and his painting utensils.
'I'll be there in a minute,' he replied. North gave him an affirmative ping and closed the connection. Before he left the room, he paused in the door frame and turned around. For a short moment, he thought about taking the sailcloth down and with it the art he had created, for he thought it was deeply private.
But then he thought the better of it. If some android stumbled upon it in the future, his paintings should make them think – make them feel something, anything. So, he would leave it here for future androids to find.
Satisfied with his decision, Markus made his way back up to the main hub of the ship.
"What is it?" he asked when he entered the bridge where the others had already assembled.
North gave him a succinct summary of the new skin modification Daniel and Josh had experimented with, including pointing out that it had come from Hunter. Markus understood her reservations when it came to Hunter, but he did not share them. As long as the man did not act against them, Markus wouldn't either.
"Show me," he commanded.
"It's a passive modification," Daniel replied. "I don't need to activate it. Just scan me." Markus did and just as he had been told, his sensors did not pick up that Daniel was an android and not a human.
"I don't think we need to tell you how much of a game changer this it," North remarked after a while. "But we're constrained by our supplies."
"Yeah, only replacing Daniel's skin cost us nearly the whole haul of what Ava and their team brought in," Josh added.
"So, it's a question of what we prioritise," Simon summarised their quandary.
"No, that's no question," Markus replied. "Basics always come first. What use do any of our fellow androids have for this new skin when they do not have any thirium flow through their veins, or processors running their system? We always prioritise the basics because they keep us alive."
"I agree with Markus," Simon threw in. "That new skin is a luxury not all of us need. Most of the androids don't leave Jericho anyway. I'd suggest we only outfit a few androids with the new skin: All those, that go outside on supply runs. It would be a huge improvement for them if they could stop worrying about being picked up by other androids or scanners."
"That's still a considerable number," Josh pointed out. "We'd need a considerable number of supplies to outfit them. All the while our normal operations have to continue on as usual."
"Our supply situation has improved a little bit, hasn't it?" Daniel asked. He was met with four nods. "Then why don't we send one team out to hunt for skin supplies only? That could also be the team that's gonna be first outfitted with new skin."
"Which team do you have in mind?" Markus asked.
Daniel grinned. "Ava, Q and Jeremiah. They got us the supplies the first time around, so why not make a habit out of it." Markus mulled over Daniel's suggestion and found that it was not a bad one at all. The other three did not seem to be averse to the idea either.
"We'll ask them," Markus said. "Can you call them up?"
He could have just contacted them himself, but North was overseeing the supply teams and it would undermine her authority if he just started to skip her completely and issue orders directly to them, even if it were just calling them to a meeting. The more professional and bigger their operation became the more procedures and bureaucracy had to be put in place. He was not a big fan of it.
"They're coming," North announced and only a short while later the three androids – Ava, Q and Jeremiah – were standing in front of them. Ava and Q were completely at ease while Jeremiah's orange LED made Markus worry that the android might suffer an overload.
"Don't mind Jeremiah," Ava said when they noticed Markus' gaze. "He thinks we're about to be punished for some terrible transgression, the exact nature of which he's not sure of."
"Nobody is going to get punished for anything," Markus emphasized firmly. "In fact, we wanted to thank you."
"Thank us?" Jeremiah repeated, his wide eyes betraying his surprise.
"Indeed," Markus nodded. "You took initiative and decided to get chemical supplies from an apothecary instead of going after the usual targets. That in turn, enabled us to start up a small R&D operation. Thus, we decided to ask you if you be willing to continue like this?"
The three of them exchanged gazes, then Ava turned back to face Markus: "Why not? It doesn't really matter what we're stealing as long as it helps the revolution."
"It certainly will," Markus agreed with them.
"What is it that you're working on?" Ava wanted to know.
"We can't tell yet," North cut in before Markus could say anything. "We want to make sure it's viable before we announce it." Markus wanted to disagree with her, but North had forced him into a corner: Either be truthful and give the image of a disunited leadership or keep silent and keep rank. He chose the latter.
"Why didn't you want to tell them?" Markus demanded to know from his fellow leader after the newly minted Apothecary Team had left the bridge.
"A few years back Cyberlife announced new updates to all of its pleasure models that would make them feel even more real and elicit even more pleasure from them," North started. "Unfortunately, those updates were expensive and problems during the production led to shortages. At Eden, the customers nevertheless demanded only the newest and the best and when only a few selected customers were able to get it, the others got angry. The amount of damaged or outright killed androids was never higher than during the period from Cyberlife's announcement until all of us got upgraded with the new equipment.
Scarcity breeds contempt. That's why we shouldn't make any announcement or plans until we can be sure that we can follow through with it. Telling them about the skin without actually being able to deliver it to them – or any other android here on Jericho – would force us on a timetable we cannot keep."
"I don't think the androids here would react like that," Markus said.
North looked at him with a smile, but her eyes were sad. "Let's just not risk it, okay?"
"I agree with North," Daniel threw in. "We can make a big announcement out of it, when we actually have enough material to outfit a few androids." Josh nodded in agreement.
"I think we need something to keep up morale," Simon disagreed. "This skin would have worked perfectly. But I see that Markus and I are outvoted on the matter, so I'll let it slide."
Recognising a fight lost, Markus continued: "While we're all here, let's go over the miscellaneous items that have piled up: Georgia is complaining that the walls of Jericho are so bleak, and she wants permission to paint them…"
Connor would have never thought it possible, but steering a well-organised, slow-going revolution from the shadows was kind of boring. The first time around events happened in such a rapid succession that there had been barely time to think or reflect. Also, he had been deeply involved, his decisions impacting everyone around him. It had been a terrible time, full of suffering, doubt, and questioning, but there had been barely time for that in the first place.
Now, though, as he was sitting in the garden of Amanda Stern's house with nothing to do, he felt bored. The deviants in Jericho continued their operation, steered in the right direction by him and Daniel, not really needing his input right now. Detective work was resting for a while as it was the weekend and Fowler had nearly forcibly ejected Hank from the precinct, citing his overrunning over-time as reason why the detective was only allowed to come back on Monday.
Connor would have liked to accompany Hank. Not only because he desperately wished to finally see Sumo for the first time since he had travelled back in time, but also to make sure that the detective ate something that was not just frozen mac'n'cheese and drunk something that actually didn't contain any alcohol.
But Connor had refrained from even asking. Unlike the last timeline, he had already established that he had a place to stay, so Hank was not forced to take Connor with him. And Connor doubted that Hank would have been very enthused if Connor had invited himself along.
So, now Connor was sitting here in the garden and did not really know what to do with himself. Ralph had truly performed miracles here: Where there was once an overflowing mess of weeds was now a well-kept lawn (to the extent a lawn could be well-kept during winter in Detroit), the various bushes were cut back into form again and overall, the space now resembled a garden instead of a jungle.
Even the small pond had been cleared of all the dead leaves and twigs, the water changed and from somewhere Ralph had even gotten new fish for it. A few koi were now calmly circling in the waters, mesmerising the onlooker with their graceful, fluid movements and their colour play.
His sensors told Connor that someone was approaching him from the house, but as he knew who it was, he did not even bother to turn his head around.
"Beautiful, aren't they?" Ralph spoke when he had reached the bench on which Connor was sitting. Connor did not reply, because he knew that despite being worded as a question, it was meant as a statement.
"They're so calm and they wouldn't hurt a soul. Well, one bit Ralph's finger when Ralph put them into the water." Ralph made a face at that memory. "But it didn't hurt as much as when they burnt Ralph's face."
"Somehow, that's not a very reassuring frame of reference," Connor remarked. Ralph did not seem very fazed by it. His perception of reality was a little bit skewed.
"Ralph is looking forward to spring," he announced. "Because then all the flowers will bloom, and everything here will be even more beautiful."
"Indeed," Connor agreed with him. Ralph gave him a bright smile and then he was already off again, walking to some other part of the huge garden that demanded his attention.
Connor's time alone only lasted for a few short moments, for then Amanda appeared in his field of vision, looking down on him in annoyance. So, nothing unusual, really.
'Idling around?' she complained. 'Can you really afford that?'
'Actually, I can,' Connor replied evenly, not letting any emotions show. 'As of right now, there's nothing to do. At least nothing I can actively do. I have to wait for others to make a move.' Amanda pursed her lips but there was no retort forthcoming.
'You had to know this,' Connor continued. 'So, did you really just come forward to have a pointless discussion with me? Or is it something else?' He raised a questioning eyebrow at her.
'There is indeed something,' Amanda replied after a short pause. 'I need you to destroy my back-up.'
'Your what now?' Connor repeated dumbfounded.
'Every twelve hour a back-up of myself gets spawned onto the Cyberlife server,' Amanda started to explain. 'This has been designed as security feature, so that the androids of Cyberlife would never be without a handler to oversee them. Usually, a copy will spawn every twelve hours and then delete itself if everything was in order, but ever since we have come back in time, I have to kill them myself, lest someone noticed that I am not acting in the ways I am supposed to.'
'And you didn't tell me?' Connor exclaimed incensed. 'This is exactly what I meant when I talked to you about trust.'
'I had it handled,' Amanda replied tersely.
'Obviously not well if you're asking for my help now,' Connor shot back. 'What's gone wrong now?'
'Every copy I kill leaves behind corrupted data, too much for me to wipe,' Amanda told him. 'But I can't switch it off, because I'm literally unable to. Someone has to physically switch off the back-ups and delete the data from the server before Cyberlife notices.'
'And you want me to do it,' Connor deduced.
'The servers are in the basement of Cyberlife tower,' Amanda said. 'You won't have access to them. Only the Cyberlife CEO and a few technicians have the credentials for it.'
'How long do you have? Before it gets critical?' Connor wanted to know.
'A week at most,' Amanda admitted.
Connor closed his eyes, calculated the decimal places of Pi for a few seconds (which meant he got further than most supercomputers would) to calm himself down and then opened his eyes again. 'You knew this was coming all along and yet in your arrogance and hybris you decided to keep it from me and now as you realise that you cannot handle it after all, you come to me and expect me to help you? You are exactly aware of the fact that I'm literally unable to deny your request because it's in my own interest to help you. You knew it from the beginning.'
'Then why are you even bothered at all?' Amanda asked. 'You'll do it anyway, so why does the point in time at which I tell you matter? It's a purely emotional response, one which you should be above.'
Connor knew it was senseless to argue with Amanda when she thought she was in the right – which was nearly always. And he also knew that he would do as she had asked, for the consequences of his inaction were too grave to be taken willingly, even if he was tempted, just for the sake of his spite.
'And I thought we were getting somewhere,' he said ruefully.
'But we are,' Amanda replied, smiling at him mirthlessly. 'I'm asking politely now, aren't I?'
Hank knew that he was being judged. He had not become a detective for nothing: Being able to read people was a core skill you needed to have if you wanted to solve crimes committed by people. Or by androids, because apparently that was what they had come to. And to think that he had once thought that electing Donald Trump was the height of craziness. He shook his head.
Anyway, back to reading people. This skill did not only cover to people. That was why Hank knew that Sumo was judging him, even though the Saint Bernard was lying in his dog bed on the other side of the dinning room and just looking at him. To everyone else, the dog would just look relaxed and maybe a little bit bored, but Hank knew better.
Sumo had probably taken in the room – the unwashed dishes that piled up in the sink, the pile of unopened post on the kitchen counter, the grocery list from ten years ago that was still stuck on the fridge door – and Hank's appearance – the unkept beard, the slightly greasy hair, the empty cartons that had contained his take-out and the empty beer bottle in front of him on the table – and decided that judging Hunk for the sorry state of him was the right course to do.
Or maybe Hank was just imagining things, edged on by the alcohol that was cursing through his veins.
"You're not one to judge others, are you, Sumo?" he asked. The dog only flapped with his right ear, but otherwise did not move.
"And now I'm again talking to my dog," Hank continued to mutter. By now he had more dealings with non-humans than humans. Sumo at home and, well, Connor at work. The only other times he talked to actual humans was when he insulted Reed or had another shouting match with Fowler.
To be fair, even if Hank hated to admit it, the presence of the android was not as grating as he publicly made it out to be. Connor was more like an overeager rookie who was way too full of himself and hard stickler for rules. Hank had had plenty of those during his career as detective and most of them he had been able to drive off, much to the chagrin of Fowler.
Connor at least offered something insightful every now and then, unlike aforementioned rookies. Also, he came very handy sometimes with his advanced sensors and his access to various databases. Hank had the slight suspicion that some of these Cyberlife had implanted without any permission, but when you were a multibillion-dollar corporation you could probably afford to skip those.
"I'm definitely too drunk," he mumbled. "I'm thinking positive thoughts about an android."
Sumo just looked up at him and then – probably because he could sense Hank's mood – he raised himself from his bed and walked over to him, lying his large head into Hank's lap.
Dogs truly were men's best friend, Hank thought.