November 5th, 2038
PM 11:40:21
Chris was right, not that you'd ever tell him that. There was something weird in the bathroom. Really fucking weird. Frantic writing, "rA9," repeated thousands of times in black, scribbled ink. A figurine made of…Well, honestly, you didn't want to know.
What was most interesting about the creepy shrine was the flowers sprinkled along the drain. Bowls of exhausted incense gave the shower stall the best-smelling place in the house. It was as if someone had made a religious offering to…What, the God of going batshit crazy?
You'd just taken the last of 30 pictures of the whatever-the-fuck before you felt someone staring at you. The kind of tension that raised the hairs on the back of your neck and made your muscles tense. Your knee rotated, and your boots squeaked as you turned.
Connor was standing at the doorway.
"OH, SHIT-"
You jumped, almost falling backwards and destroying the evidence.
His hand shot forward, latching on to your arm. Your healing arm. The one he'd wrapped with a tie in what seemed like a lifetime ago.
"Tsss- Ow-"
You cringed, the camera bouncing across the floor.
His grip switched to your back, supporting you mid-fall.
"I'm sorry. Did I frighten you?"
His face was only inches away, his brown eyes digging deep into yours.
"No," Your voice wavered, "No, I…You-"
"Your heartrate is accelerating tremendously. Have you been checked for paroxysmal supraventricular tachycardia?"
He straightened himself, helping you to your feet with a gentle touch.
"Paroxys-what?" You pulled your mask down, giving him a confused look, "I'm fine, I just…"
It was just the two of you, alone in the bathroom at the end of the hall. You leaned on your leg, balancing yourself in front of him. It was time to face your fears.
"Do you remember me?"
You asked the question of the hour. The one you'd been trying to avoid, but felt like you'd never have an appropriate chance to ask again. Hell, this was anything but appropriate…The kind of dreams you were having about him after the nightmares, were anything but appropriate.
"I was on that terrace…" You were lost in his trance, silently begging him to halt any judgement, "That android that took the little girl hostage? I was shot, and you…you saved me."
His bottom eyelids pushed up, and his head swayed to the left.
"I remember you."
His revelation had you melted in place, feet glued to the floor that kept you anchored in this world. He said it with a sense of amazement as the light on his head shifted from blue to yellow. You weren't sure what that meant yet, but it was the second time you'd seen it.
"I could've died…you could've died…"
A small twitch jumbled his features, but you kept going before he could correct you.
"But you saved me. And I just wanted to say…thank you."
His cheeks lifted, and he gave you the warmest smile. One that lifted both corners of his mouth. It wasn't much of a response, but it was enough. A two-cornered smile was a good start on your path of self-redemption.
You wanted to say more, but words never came. You gulped, feeling heat brush across your face. Your chest rose and fell, and you slunk away from his grasp and slipped around him.
"Officer," A whisper of your name followed the declaration, forcing you to pause your retreat.
You braced for some kind of pre-programmed reprimand, and slowly turned.
"Your camera." He gave you a widened grin, the strands of his loose batch of hairs dangling.
You received it shakily, swallowing hard.
As soon as he turned around, you dashed out of the bathroom with what was left of your dignity. But it felt good to thank him. To face the reckoning you'd been avoiding all night.
Maybe you'd be able to get some sleep.
With any amount of luck, the time spent investigating the murder wouldn't add up to a nightmare…
Perhaps not every distraction, was a bad one.
…
Hank picked apart the kitchen, sliding his hands along the counter. You'd finished reviewing the evidence, but things weren't adding up. There was a struggle. Blood marked the doorway leading into the living room. The body was marked up with cuts, obviously a stabbing. But what made the deviant opt for murder?
You eyed a bat on the floor, tagged by a glowing, yellow number nine evidence marker.
Did the deviant hit Ortiz with it first, or…
"All right…I'm outta here." Hank yawned, "Thanks for the ride. Great party."
He may have been a legend, but his investment into his job was short-stocked nowadays. You still looked up to him, and couldn't blame him for falling off after what'd happened to his son…
You reminded yourself you couldn't let that become you just because your friend died.
"Wait, Lieutenant!" Connor came dashing around the corner, leaving the hallway and bathroom behind him, "I can't stay if you leave!"
"Much as this breaks my heart, this is where we part ways."
Hank was sarcastic in his mocking. Did he always have to be so mean?
"I just need 5 minutes to finish my investigation." Connor was begging at this point, "Please, Lieutenant. Remember the drink I bought you at the bar? Just five minutes."
He bought…he bought Hank a drink at the bar? You found this more of a mystery than the crime scene. An android drinking buddy. That was off-script. It proved Connor understood a lot more about human behavior than given credit for by your fellow peers…Maybe even by himself.
"Five. Minutes." Hank held up his fingers, shoving them towards his android partner.
Connor hesitated before giving him a curt nod, "Thank you, Lieutenant."
He surveyed the kitchen as Hank wandered off, probably reclaiming his post near the body. Chris bunched his mask with his hand, pulling it down to reveal a smile.
"You're free to go, if you'd like. We're gonna start packing up…Not much else to go on, here."
You returned a surprised look, trying your best not to come off as suspicious, "I'd like to stick around to see how this plays out."
You nodded towards Connor, who was crouched by the bat you'd questioned only a couple minutes ago.
"Suit yourself." Chris shrugged, "Doesn't matter to me. I'm stuck here for another few hours, regardless."
"I'd say I felt bad for you, but…" You grinned, "You make a lot more money than I do."
"I wouldn't say a lot more…" He waved you off as he tucked his data pad under his arm, no longer buzzing with incoming information.
You sighed, watching the others pack up their equipment. There was more to the story, here, and you were curious to see if Connor would be able to tell it.
But a purple screen caught your attention.
A magazine left carelessly untouched on the counter.
Your brows creased, and you lifted it for a more careful observation:
"Gossip Weekly
ANDROID SEX OFFICIALLY BETTER!
Sorry, ladies, but plastic can't be beat!
The result of our survey is in, and it's official – 68% of men prefer sex with an android to a real woman!
And with 52% of men saying they've tried the experience at least once, that's a lot of android love to go around!
There were a few reasons given for this reference, but we think we know the real reason – androids don't want to talk about their feelings afterwards!
This story was sponsored by Eden Club: 'discretion is our middle name.'"
You scoffed and angrily tossed the article aside, crossing your arms and leaning the small of your back on the counter's ledge.
"Find something?" Chris snapped fresh gloves in place as he replaced a dirtied pair.
"Look at this," You slid it across the countertop, "Sexist pieces of shit…"
He bit the inside of his cheek, dragging his finger along the screen.
"I think you're taking this android obsession of yours a little too far…"
"No, it's not that! I mean, come on. Women aren't some emotionally-ridden sex fiends who stalk the night looking for their next 'dick to claim.' Why didn't they survey us, eh? Would it be too emasculating to even think that maybe, just maybe, we'd prefer to have sex with an android so we didn't have to fake orgasms on the daily?"
Chris's quiet demeanor evolved into a boisterous laugh.
"Tell you what." He whispered, "I'll ask my wife how many orgasms she's faked, and you can use that to write your next counter-article…which I'm sure'll be coming soon."
You rolled your eyes.
"Just don't go running off to Eden Club with goo and guts all over you. The owner might not like that."
"Shut up, Chris."
You cocked your chin, giving him the finger from under your elbow. He shook his head laughing, returning to the living room.
"Do you have questions about intercourse involving androids? I'd be happy to answer them."
You jumped, forgetting the "android in the room." You would've preferred an elephant to this kind of awkwardness.
"Uh…No, not really…Thanks though, Connor." You cleared your throat, "How's the investigation coming along?"
You ignored the not-so-subtle laughs coming from the other crime scene investigators, and you flushed in embarrassment.
"I think I've figured out what happened." His brows pinched, and he turned his focus towards the floor, "I should report to Lieutenant Anderson and relay my findings."
"That's probably a good idea. We're keeping him out past his bedtime."
"I heard that!" Hank leaned in the doorway with his forearm on the frame, "I'm old, but I've still got my hearing, ya ass."
"Selective hearing, maybe…"
He scoffed, "Stop bothering her, Connor. She's got work to do."
Connor perked up in surprise, "My apologies."
He nodded before his departure, not giving you an opportunity to tell him he wasn't bothering you at all.
"Lieutenant, I think I've figured out what happened." Connor repeated.
"Oh yeah? Shoot." He smacked his lips, glaring at you from over Connor's shoulder, "I'm all ears."
You bit back a laugh, and watched Connor scan over the evidence with an intense gaze.
"It all started…in the kitchen."
He walked Hank to a broken chair next to the bat.
"There're obvious signs of a struggle…" Hank mumbled, but not maliciously, "The question is, what exactly happened here…"
It was as if he was testing Connor. Like he'd already figured all this out, and had been waiting to hear his android partner's second opinion. Or, he was teaching him. Either way, it was nice to see.
Connor answered him, almost too eagerly.
"I think the victim attacked the android…with the bat."
"That lines up with the evidence…Go on."
Yeah. Definitely a test. Hank was old, and only heard and saw what he wanted…but he "still had it."
"The android stabbed the victim." Connor nodded to a knife rack nailed to the kitchen wall, missing the largest utensil in what looked like a set.
"So the android was trying to defend itself, right?" Hank's chin dipped and rose, as if he was understanding the part that none of his human peers, yourself included, could make out, "Okay, then what happened?"
"The victim fled…" Connor turned his attention behind him, his stare running parallel to you as he aimed it towards the corpse, "To the living room."
You waited a few seconds before following them, always sticking to the background and keeping yourself out of the way. You waited between rooms, listening while pretending to be busy doing something else.
"And he tried to get away from the android…" Hank sighed, "All right, that makes sense."
"The android murdered the victim…" Connor hesitated, "With the knife."
"Ok, your theory's not totally ridiculous…but it doesn't tell us where the android went."
You peaked out of the corner of your eye. Connor turned towards Hank, his eyes squinting – lost in thought.
"It was damaged by the bat…and lost some Thirium."
"Lost some what?"
"Thirium. You call it, 'blue blood.' It's the fluid that powers androids' biocomponents. It evaporates after a few hours and becomes invisible to the naked eye."
His voice was soothing; direct, but very matter-of-fact. It had the perfect amount of velvet undertones, topped off by a jagged edge. The ends of each sentence left you wanting more.
"Oh…but I bet you can still see it, cant'chya?"
Finally…Hank was starting to see the value in having him here.
"Correct."
"Yeah…" He shoved his hands in his pockets, kicking the air as he turned on his heel.
Connor studied him, his eyes switching to you as if you'd been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.
You pointed your guilty glance at your boots, your jaw tightening as he passed.
He didn't waste any time following the trail that only he could see. A piece of wood clanked against another, and Hank dug his knuckles into his sides.
"Hey, HEY, HEY! What are you doing' with that chair?!"
Connor cocked his head to the side, standing in perfect posture with the heavy furniture.
"I'm going to check something." He smiled, waiting awkwardly for Hank to answer.
"Huh…" He groaned, "Gonna 'check something…'"
Connor walked the chair to the end of the hall as if it were made of paper, planting it in a very specific spot. He studied the ceiling, and you found what he was fixated on.
An attic's entrance.
He took a step on the chair, reaching his hands for the sliding panel.
"Uh…" You uncrossed your arms, "Should he be going up there alone?"
"He?" Hank gave you a suspicious look, "IT is replaceable. IT is a machine. I'm not sending one of our guys up there…Could be a fuckin' murderer in that attic for all we know."
His voice was low, but not low enough to slip by Connor…you guessed. The blue light on his head shifted to yellow before correcting itself, his hands pausing only for a second before his neck cranked towards the hatch. He pulled himself up, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't worried.
You didn't agree.
He wasn't replaceable…and he was certainly not just an "it."
…
You'd held your breath for what felt like an hour. You checked your watch – a rickety old time piece that people made fun of you for wearing. The hands ticked away, much more rustic than a screen.
Ten minutes. He'd been gone for ten minutes without any indication that he was still alive…active…whatever he was.
Hank paced next to you as you both stood under the attic's entrance.
"Connor!" His impatience peaked, "What the fuck is going on up there?!"
You waited. And waited. And waited…
You wanted so badly for him to answer.
"It's here, Lieutenant!"
A distant verification that Connor was in fact, still around…
Your gratefulness faded when your mind caught up with itself, and realized the deviant killer was still around, too. With Connor. Alone.
"Holy shit…" Hank's curse was breathless, "Chris, Ben! Get your asses in here now! Come on!"
You studied the hole in the ceiling, nervous and fearful.
You and Chris were ushered into the attic, forced to navigate the storage space filled with unsightly decorations. You'd be the ones to arrest the deviant, escorting him through the crime scene and calming him down as he saw his former master's body.
As you rested your palm on the top of the HK400's head, slick with blood and almost bald, he took his place in the back of your police cruiser. You shut the door, turning to witness the DCPD's androids holding back the crowd still watching in the cold, rainy night.
Past the bobbing microphones and reaching hands, there stood a single body in the doorway. One with a stare more distant than the accused killer's. One with deep-brown eyes that were no longer gentle and reassuring, but corrupted and confused.
Whoever rA9 was, the offering the murderer had made to them wasn't enough to keep him safe from Connor, an RK800 pushed into service as a deviant hunter.
And even as he continued to be successful, he didn't seem sure if he liked his job. After seeing the obvious signs of torture on the killer's arms, guilt sunk in your stomach as you sat next to Chris in the car…
You weren't sure if you liked Connor's job, either.
A/N: Double-posted today because you guys are so amazing! And...I may have procrastinated a little with my take-home final. Because of stupid school and work, the next chapter should be posted on Saturday.
Till then!
