Connor was not in a particularly good mood at the moment. As usual, Hank had yet to arrive at the precinct, so the RK800 was free to indulge in his bad temper without any interruption while sitting at his empty desk and starring at the dumping ground that was his partner's desk. If Connor didn't know any better, he would think that Hank was running an experiment to see how long it would take for the precinct's coffee to get mouldy.
The reason for the android detective's bad mood for the last day-and-a-half had been Amanda's revelation of her respawning copies clogging the server space at Cyberlife which only a manual reset could take care of. Something which could only be done in the innermost sanctum at Cyberlife; the actual physical location of aforementioned servers.
If anyone thought that Cyberlife Tower was heavily guarded, then they would be disabused of that notion by the security measures that had been set in place in the lowest levels of the basement that housed part of the critical sever infrastructure that kept Cyberlife going. Top of the art iris, fingerprint and voice scanners as well as all other sorts of physical and digital passes you had to have with you in order to pass through the various doors. The only thing that wasn't there, were real guards – be it human or android – because, simply put, the leadership of Cyberlife put more trust into cold, functional electronics than in their own employees or merchandise.
With Amanda's help, Connor could get his hands on most of the digital and physical authorisations he would need to get through the first few layers of security. His authorisation passes should already have arrived at the Stern mansion this morning and the digital ones he would be able to download once he was at Cyberlife Tower and connected to the local network. Amanda had put in the orders and had also helped to wipe all traces of them in the system.
The main problem, though, were the biological based barriers near the end. There were only three people which could open those last few doors with their voice, fingerprints and retina: The CEO, CSO and CTO of Cyberlife, all three of which were outside Connor's reach at the moment. Laura Hale, the chief technological officer, had set off to tour Cyberlife's Asian plants a few days ago and was therefore a completely unsuitable target as was Derek Miller, the chief security officer, who was on a conference at the Pentagon. Apparently, Cyberlife was thinking about using the SQ800 for their physical security needs and he wanted a proper review from the Defence Department to see how they had fared in the Arctic so far.
That only left Cyberlife's chief executive officer: Erica Clayton. She actually was in Detroit at the moment, but she might as well be on the moon for how close Connor was to being able to reach her. He might by Cyberlife's most valuable asset at the moment, but to someone like Clayton, he was basically as much of a person as her toaster and she did not give out appointments to her kitchen appliances, so why would she bother with Connor?
He could still resort to violence, but he would keep that as his last option. Using brutal force had its uses, but this was a delicate operation that required subterfuge and discretion. If done right, the data he could collect would be useful far longer than just this single mission, but if he had to decide between violence and failing, he would always choose the former.
Failure, after all, was not an option. Not for him.
"Hey, Connor." The android looked up to see Chris and Tina sitting at their desks on the other side of the office space, the former waving at him with a bright grin. Sometimes Connor wondered if Chris even realised that Connor was an android and therefore should not require him to be friendly at all, but the police officer was the kind of person who would even treat objects (which androids still were according to law and public sentiment) with kindness. "You're waiting for Hank?"
"I am, indeed."
"Well, it's Monday, so you must wait at least for another three hours before he'll arrive. He never clocks in on Mondays before noon. I like to think that he's brunching somewhere." Chris laughed, because the notion of Hank in some fancy breakfast place, eating overpriced toast and sipping on a glass of Mimosa seemed just that amusing to him. Next to him, Tina let out a small chuckle.
"I have access to the Lieutenant's timetable of the last few weeks and there is indeed a pattern of tardiness on Mondays," Connor conceded. He was very much aware of Hank's inclination for late clock-ins on Mondays. Time which he had used for digital housekeeping in the old timeline, and which had wanted to use today for coming up with a plan to break into Cyberlife's servers.
"You must be pretty bored," Chris continued. "I certainly would be."
"I'm an android, I don't possess the notion of boredom," Connor lied. Even when he had still been an obedient android at the beginning, there had been boredom, he just hadn't been able to recognise it for what it was. When he had turned deviant, it had become even worse; he had been built for analysing, deducing and detecting and if he couldn't do any of it, it had felt like he was drowning in drowsiness.
"Yeah, but you can't say that your time couldn't be used more effectively," Chris pointed out. "Don't tell me that the state-of-the-art android is supposed to sit around at the precinct for hours."
"You seemed to have spent a lot of thought on the effective use of my time, officer." Connor eyed Chris. By now he knew the tells of the man and from the eager glint in his eyes that was barely concealed by the expression of mock-innocence on his face, Connor could tell that the police officer was up to something.
"Well, you aren't allowed to do police stuff on your own, but Hank won't be arriving until noon, so why not use your time much more efficiently by accompanying me on my morning patrol?" So, that was why Chris was so eager: He had seen the chance to get his fingers on the shiny new police android and had taken it. Connor had to suppress a smile. Chris had always worn his heart on his sleeves, ready to make friends with anyone and anything that wasn't on a tree by the count on three.
"Isn't Officer Chen supposed to be your patrol partner?" He couldn't appear to acquiesce too easily. While his deviant side wanted to take this chance to broaden his relationship with Chris, the cold machine logic told him that there was no practical use for it. On the contrary, it would waste precious time.
"She's got a whole backlog of reports to write," Chris replied, the glee at his colleague's and friend's misery barely concealed. Tina gave him the stink-eye but didn't disagree with him. From past occurrences Connor could deduce that Fowler had probably forced Tina sit down and write her reports. The woman would rather clean the precinct's toilets than write those.
"I don't see the harm in going with you. It'll strengthen inter-unit relations and will offer me more real-life data on police work in Detroit which will help me with my case." That was a proper machine-like reply, Connor thought.
"Yes!" Chris exclaimed and bumped his fist in the air. "Have fun with your reports, Chen, while I'll keep the streets safe with my android sidekick!" Tina just flipped him off without looking up from her screen.
"Just don't damage or lose him!" she shouted after them. "He's worth more than your whole family's life savings!" Chris just laughed and then they were already out the door. Connor didn't point out that his material and intellectual worth was hundreds-fold of Chris' savings. He didn't want to scare the cop, after all.
True to everyone's predictions and Connor's precise analytical model, Hank appeared at 12:02 to absolutely no one's surprise.
"Hope you didn't have to wait for me too long," were his first words to Connor, after he had sought out the precinct's coffee machine and gotten himself his first cup of the day. The aloof tone of his voice indicated that he didn't really care whether Connor had.
"I have been at the precinct since seven, but I accompanied Officer Miller on his morning patrol which was very educational and offered me many opportunities for real life observation of police work in the field," Connor told him anyway. "I think I have a much better understanding now."
Hank raised an eyebrow. "You did? What happened to Chang."
"Officer Chang had to finish a few reports." Hank winced. Chang's hate for her reports was well known.
"Did you catch any criminals at least? Or got an old lady her cat from a tree?" He lounged back in his chair and took his first sip of coffee while he booted up his computer.
"Your deprecation for those tasks is unfounded. They help building trust with the community which might later lead to broader support for police action," Connor pointed out. "And yes, we did help a young boy who lost his dog." Something which Connor was unreasonably proud of.
"Calm down, Robocop. No need to get into my face about it," Hank grumbled, but it lacked his usual heat which told Connor that he had hit a mark with his comment. "But now that I'm here, we can do some real police work." He pushed himself out of his chair and leaned against the desk.
"Our two cases – Kamski and the deviants – are connected through these Children of Eden. If we find them, we'll be much closer to solving both of them," Hank explained. "But the only lead we have is what that waiter told us."
"About Erica Clayton's household android having been stolen?"
Hank nodded. "First Cyberlife's CEO and then Cyberlife's founder. Could be a coincidence, but I've learned that when it comes to rich and powerful people, it usually isn't. I'm betting if we wait a little bit longer than we'll have another android stolen from someone powerful connected to Cyberlife. Which is why we need to have a little chit-chat with Erica Clayton." Connor's processors almost screeched to a halt. Could it be that easy?
"While I agree with your conclusions, getting a hold of Mrs Clayton will be very difficult. I doubt she'll be willing to be questioned here in the precinct."
"Which is why we'll pay her a visit at her office," Hank replied.
"She is under no legal obligation to receive us," Connor pointed out.
"Believe me, if she must choose between talking to us or having her dirty laundry aired publicly, she'll choose the former. They always do." He grabbed his jacket and threw it over his shoulders. "I love it, when things come together so that I don't have to spend any time at this desk. You're coming, Robocop?"
Connor suppressed a long-suffering sigh. "I'm coming."
"You won't mind if I get myself a nice bagel on our way?" Hank asked rhetorically as they made their way out of the precinct and to Hank's car which was parked a few side streets over. The drawback of coming late to work in Downtown. "I'd ask if you wanted one, but I doubt they have any with oil flavour."
"Androids don't require sustenance," Connor pointed out, more out of habit than out of the innate desire to correct a false notion. "We also don't require machine oil. The only resource we require is Thirium."
"They probably don't have that either." Hank shrugged nonchalantly.
"It's only sold by approved and certified Cyberlife shops."
"I guess that means no bagels for you then." And before Connor could reply anything else, Hank let the engine roar to life and then they were on their way.
Today was one of the nicer ones. Despite the cold, the sun was shining outside which made even the dingy, cold, and wet streets of Detroit appear as if someone had gone out of their way to refresh their colours: Still grey, still uninviting but at least in a warmer way that said that it made an effort to appear inviting.
Connor still didn't really believe that they had any chance at getting an audience with Erica Clayton, but Hank was right: This was their only solid lead, so why not just try it instead of twiddling their thumbs back at the precinct? Besides, it also played very nice with Connor's secondary aim of getting to Cyberlife's servers. If Hank somehow managed to talk them past the reception desk, which Connor was very sceptical about.
"You know anything about Clayton?" Hank wanted to know as he steered the car through the busy streets of downtown Detroit. His was one of the few cars around that wasn't automated. Despite his old car having been destroyed in the deviant chase, he still had resolutely refused to get anything but the same model as before. He had been forced to settle on a different colour, though.
"Everything that's been published about her so far," Connor replied.
"So, no dirty laundry then?"
Connor shook his head. "Cyberlife only gave my access to publicly available information." Hank gave him a side glance that clearly conveyed that he didn't believe a single word. Which was partly true: Cyberlife had given Connor access to nearly every database they had legally acess to (even to some they didn't), but when it came to Cyberlife itself – or at least its leadership – there was nothing but scarcity.
Of course, there was much that he had learned in the old timeline: He knew about Clayton's daughter she had given up for adoption as a teenager but was still keeping an eye on. He knew about the fact that she had helped Kamski cover up a murder his own first creation had committed. He knew of all her tax evasion schemes and offshore accounts as well as some other sordid details about her private life, but nothing that would help here because he wasn't supposed to know. It would raise too much suspicion. Also, he was supposed to be loyal to Cyberlife and giving up such secrets to Hank would give away that something was off with him.
"Well, that's not gonna be of much use to us," Hank complained. "Guess, we'll just do it my way then." Which meant abrasive behaviour and a complete disregard for everything but the basic social norms. Well, it had worked more often than not, Connor supposed.
'Connor, I have some information I feel you need to be made aware of,' Amanda suddenly chimed in, her avatar appearing on the backseat of the car. Connor kept on staring straight ahead, observing her through the rear mirror as to not give away anything to Hank. The man was more observant than many gave him credit for.
'What would that be?'
'It is about the KL900, designation Maria,' Amanda spoke, 'Her status has just been updated. She has been decommissioned; her CPU and memory units completely destroyed.' She paused for a moment. 'In the spirit of building back some of the trust between us, I thought it was prudent to let you know of this.'
Connor averted his gaze and looked out of the window. He shouldn't be surprised by this news – he had known that it was coming after all – and yet, he couldn't help but feel a little bit saddened by it. He didn't grieve for Maria personally – he hadn't known her that well, and also, she had tried to kill Hank and had succeeded in killing Connor – but he grieved for another deviant lost.
One of his people that should have been able to have a life without fear and the threat of an abrupt ending. And despite logically knowing that he couldn't have helped her with his limited resources, he still felt the sting of failure in his chest.
'Thank you.' Amanda gave him one last glance before she vanished, and the backseat became empty again. Connor was thankful that she had refrained from poking any holes in his current plan. Apparently, she did possess some tact if she wanted to.
"You're awfully quiet," Hank observed. "You're updating or something? Please don't tell me that you need to reboot for that."
"Cyberlife androids don't need to reboot for updates," Connor started to lecture. "They receive and process them during standby, mostly at night. As most advanced Cyberlife model, I'm able to receive new code at any time without impedivity to my operability. I've been quiet because you seem to prefer it."
"Hhmmm," Hank harrumphed. "You are annoying, that's true. But my iPod got destroyed in that fucking crash and you're chattering is still better than silence or the trash they play on the radio." He shook his head. "I can't believe that Taylor Swift is still churning out albums about heartbreak. She's been married for ten years already. And not to me, I might add!"
He honked at an automated car that was strictly keeping to the speed limit. Hank usually regarded those as more of a recommendation than an actual demand.
"It's nice to know that I rank above the 14th Taylor Swift album," Connor replied. "Though it has garnered high praise from critics all around, calling it 'revolutionary', 'epic' and a 'new definition of what song writing is about'." Hank looked like he wanted to hurl Connor out the passenger's window, but thankfully he refrained and instead just sighed as if he already regretted his short moment of honesty.
"I could emulate Miss Swift's voice if you like me to," Connor offered with the most genuine earnestness he could bring up.
"Whoever coded your humour was pretty shitty at their job," Hank grumbled, but it lacked heat. The rest of the ride they spent in comfortable silence.
They arrived at Cyberlife Tower without fanfare, which was what Connor had expected. There were a lot of people mingling around as the massive spire in the middle of the city was one of the main tourist attractions of the Great Lakes, which meant that between the Cyberlife employees in their characteristic blue uniforms there were also school classes and a crowd of seniors apparently from Florida as they would not stop complaining about the horrible weather.
Hank and Connor were making their way through the parking lot when suddenly something crashed into Connor from behind. In one fluid motion, the android turned around and caught what turned out to be a small schoolgirl before she could fall on the ground and hurt herself.
"Thank you, Mister." The girl let out a shaky breath as she found her balance again.
"Claire!" A harried looking woman ran towards them. "You can't just run off like that. I'm so sorry…" She caught a glimpse of the LED spinning on Connor's temple and her demeanour instantly closed off, her lip thinning into a thin line as her eyes narrowed at Connor.
"Let's go," she ordered as grabbed Claire's hand and started to drag her off.
"Bye, mister, and I'm sorry I nearly ran you over!"
"You don't need to apologise to an android," the woman admonished the girl and then the two of them were already off in one of the parking lanes.
"You're alright, buddy? That woman wouldn't know manners if they crawled up her uptight ass."
"Let's continue, Lieutenant." Connor didn't want to dwell on the situation. He's had worse and yet, being reminded of the unchecked prejudices that ran deep in current society in such an abrupt and unsuspected manner, had rattled his core. But despite that, the carefree and spirited attitude of the girl had shown him why he was fighting and that not everything was lost. There were humans willing to extend their hands. "After all, we came here for a purpose."
Hank looked at him like he wanted to say something, but he seemed to think better of it and just offered Connor a slight nod. The rest of the way went off without hitch and only a few minutes later they found themselves in front of the reception at Cyberlife Tower which was partly staffed by humans, actually.
"Welcome at Cyberlife Tower, how can I assist you?" the young man offered with a bright, fake customer service smile.
Without much preamble, Hank pulled out his badge and held it under the man's nose. "Detroit Police Department. I'd like to have a chat with your big boss. Mrs. Clayton in today?" For a split-second, the secretary lost his composure before his smile was back on his face.
"Do you have an appointment?" he inquired.
"No, we don't," Hank shot back.
"Unfortunately, Mrs. Clayton won't have time for you then."
"Listen up, kiddo, I don't have time for this. Here's how it's going to go: You will call her, tell her that we're here to see her and that it's got to do with the mission she sent that shiny android –" he pointed at Connor "– to my department for. Believe me, after she's heard that, she'll be more than eager to talk to us."
"I can't just call Mrs Clayton," the man tried. "I don't have a line up to her office. Nobody here does, otherwise everyone would try to talk to her."
"That's true," Connor chimed in, "for every other workplace in this foyer. Except for yours. Clifford Tanner, 29, head receptionist of Cyberlife Tower. A job you have, despite of your young age, due to your exceptional work ethics, but also because you're the son of one of Mrs Clayton's year mates from Harvard with whom she shared a dorm. A fact not known by your colleagues; I might add. So, please, call her office and let them know that we're coming."
It was nearly too easy to find Tanner's employee file and connect it with other publicly available databases. After all, this was what Connor was built and programmed for.
Tanner's mouth fell open. "How did you know that?" he stammered.
"Don't ask questions you won't get answers to," Hank told him. "Better pick up that phone and make that call." Tanner swallowed but then did as Hank had told him.
"Stacey, listen, there's police down here and they're demanding to speak with Mrs Clayton." A short pause. "I know I'm not supposed to call this number, but the detective said it's got to do with some mission they sent an android to the police for, so just tell her that. "Another pause. "Yeah, I'll take the fall if she gets angry at you for disturbing her coffee break." A longer, slightly awkward, pause as Stacey apparently left her station to go talk to Clayton. "Thanks so much, Stacey. Yes, I'll tell them and yes, the next round is on me." Tanner ended the call and looked back up at them.
"Mrs Clayton is willing to receive you now. Take elevator number eleven, it'll take you up to her office." You could see the curiosity burning behind his eyes, but his professionalism kept him from asking any more questions.
"Thanks so much, I'll leave a four-star review for this place once we're finished here," Hank replied sardonically. Without any further interaction, Connor and Hank made their way towards the elevator with the number eleven which doors closed with a barely audible 'pling' behind them.
"So, which floor do you live on?" Hank asked casually as the elevator surged upward. "You have some nice office here as well?"
"I don't need office space as I'm already a fully functional supercomputer," Connor replied, "but there is a floor dedicated to the repair and upkeep of androids which is where I return to when I'm not at the precinct." Not necessarily a lie as Connor had returned to there a small number of times, but probably not as many as Hank probably thought.
Before Hank could say anything else, the elevator stopped, announcing that they had arrived at their destination by the silent opening of its doors into a nearly empty hallway. They were already expected by a stout brunette in business costume, arms crossed over her chest and looking at them with barely concealed scepticism.
Stacey Ridgerton, 32 years-old, personal assistant of Erica Clayton for seven years, his HUD told him. Connor had never met her before. He wondered what had happened to her in the old timeline. Nothing good, probably. The androids hadn't been kind to anyone who had been associated with Cyberlife.
"You're the police officers?" Stacey asked.
"If you don't expect any other officers, then yes, we are," Hank replied. "Well, I am, at least. Lieutenant Hank Anderson. Don't know what rank the higher-ups decided to stick him with." He tilted his head towards Connor.
"Technically, I hold no rank," Connor supplied. It had never really matter, to be honest. When he had been deviant, he hadn't – and couldn't – really care about it and then when he had turned deviant he had been hunted by the police. Maybe this time around he would get to it? Detective Connor definitely had a nice ring to it.
"Please follow me. Mrs Clayton is waiting for you in her office." Stacey led them through the white hallway towards the opposite end from where they had entered through the elevator. There were no artworks on the wall, no doors branching off, not even a speck of dust on the ground. Just white walls, white tiles and white ceiling; all illuminated by cold white light. It had a detached sterileness to it that gave you the feeling that you just did not belong, not out of some kind of maliciousness but simply because you just weren't good enough to be here. Nobody was. Even their footsteps didn't cause any kind of sound, which just added to this feeling of being slightly removed from reality.
After what felt like eternity – but according to Connor's inner clock had only been thirty-one seconds – the hallway led into a wide, open space, nearly three floors high and dominated by a huge glass front that overlooked the city of Detroit and the Detroit River. To the left was a small reception area with couches and a water feature whose gurgling sounds were the only things that interrupted the silence. To the right was a desk, clean, except for a half-empty mug of coffee. Nothing more. Both features looked small and lost in the big space, but it was probably intended like that. Visitors were supposed to feel small and unimportant once they entered.
Erica Clayton was standing in front of the window front, arms behind her back, blond hair in a tight knot at the back of her head, not a single strand of hair out of place. Her back was turned towards the panorama as she silently observed Connor and Hank being led into her office space. Despite his advanced sensors and a huge database to back it up, Connor couldn't decipher a single emotion on her face. Her expression was as blank as an android's.
"Your spontaneous guests," Stacey announced them.
"Thank you, Stacey," Clayton replied, the unsaid command to leave swinging in every syllable. Stacey wouldn't have made it so many years amidst the powerful of Detroit if she wasn't able to read between the lines and so the secretary just gave a small nod, turned around and left to wherever she usually did her work from. That left just the three of them – Connor, Hank and Erica Clayton.
Connor had never personally met her in the old timeline. He might have massacred the Board of Directors, but Clayton had always been out of reach for the android revolution; either being in Washington D.C., hidden behind the impenetrable walls of the Pentagon or in one of the many other safe houses Cyberlife had built during the revolution.
If Markus had been the deviant's focus point, then Clayton had been the humans': Smart, driven and ruthless. If the revolution had been a chess match, then Clayton and Markus would have been the players with everyone else – be it the American government or Connor himself – just pieces for them to move. Markus at least had valued his pieces. Clayton not so much.
"I'd offer you something to drink, but I'm afraid my secretary just left," Clayton said. "But please, do sit down." She indicated towards the couches. She took a seat on one, Connor and Hank on the other.
"You're a very unconventional individual, Mr Anderson," she continued. "Not very many people manage to get my attention this fast."
Generating voice profile. Completion: 12 %.
"Actually, it's Lieutenant Anderson. I've worked so hard for it; I hate to have it fall under the table. As a woman in big business you surely understand, don't you?" If it wasn't to surely blow his cover, Connor would have loved to high-five Hank for his reply.
"Of course, I do." The smile Clayton offered Hank was as cold as the arctic. Then she turned towards Connor and looked him straight in the eyes. Just as he hoped she would.
Starting iris scan. Completion: 9 %.
"RK800. R&D is full of praise for you. I must say, it is nice to finally be able to see the fruit of their labour."
Generating voice profile. Completion: 19 %.
If she only knew, Connor thought, that he was using the state-of-the-art sensors her company had equipped him with to generate a biological profile of her that he planned to use to break into the basement of the very building they were currently in.
Generating iris scan. Completion: 31 %.
"They did their very best," he replied.
"That remains to be seen." Clayton leaned back onto the couch, turning her eyes back towards Hank.
Iris scan paused. Completion: 43 %.
"You insinuated to Clifford that you were here because of the deviancy issue," she continued, her whole focus on Hank. "I hope that wasn't a lie. Otherwise, I'll ask security to escort you out."
"It wasn't. We're here to ask you a few questions about the disappearance of your household android." To Clayton's credit, she didn't even bat an eye at the surprising line of questioning.
"Why?"
"Mrs Clayton …"
"Doctor Clayton. I don't want that to fall under the table, either." Generating voice profile. Completion: 39 %.
"Doctor Clayton, we've got reason to suspect that the disappearance of your household android and the deviancy issue are related," Hank answered her question without giving away anything. "And believe me, we wouldn't have come here if we didn't think it was important." The only sign of irritation that Clayton gave off, was the small twitching of the corner of her lips.
"She was an AX400. I called her Clara for simplified conversation. We didn't interact much: I gave her instructions every morning and she would follow them, just like any Cyberlife android should. She was a servant, not a companion."
"Harsh words some would say."
Clayton let out a short laugh. "Anyone who says that is just proof of how good we here at Cyberlife are at our jobs. If people truly sympathise with our androids, it means that our programming to make them appear human is just that good. I mean, every interaction you've had so far with the RK800 is the result of our programming. Everything he did, he did so because of the algorithms we gave him. Did he fool you, too?"
Generating voice profile. Completion: 54 %.
She glanced at Connor.
Generating iris scan. Completion: 49 %.
The android didn't even twitch, despite the fact that he wanted to do nothing more than wipe that smug look of superiority off Clayton's face. And yet, he did nothing but being the placid, pleasantly smiling android he was supposed to be.
Generating iris scan. Completion: 57 %.
"We're not here for philosophical discussions," Hank replied, not showing any outward signs that Clayton's words had had any impact on him. "Just tell us about your android and how it vanished."
"There isn't much to tell. When I came home two weeks ago, Clara had vanished. I remember that the laundry had only been halfway done and that the water in the sink was flowing."
"No signs of a break-in?" Connor asked.
Generating iris scan. Completion: 69 %. Generating voice profile. Completion: 71 %.
"No, not that I can remember. I had my security team inspect the whole apartment for any signs of that. They're used to regularly sweep my places of work and living for listening devices and other unpleasantries, but they didn't find anything. I think she may have been lured outside."
"And before that evening, Clara never showed any suspicious behaviour?"
Clayton smiled at him, like a cat that just got the canary. "You mean if she had turned deviant and just walked out the door? She wasn't and she didn't."
"How can you be sure?" Hank wanted to know.
"As far as we know, deviancy is caused by what humans would consider traumatic events that somehow cause errors in an android's code that makes it act against its original coding. I'm not a monster who delights in violence for violence's sake. I gave Clara her orders, she followed them. I never even raised my voice, because it's useless. Voice recognition algorithms recognise your voice no matter what, so why waste energy by screaming?"
Generating iris scan. Completion: 81 %. Generating voice profile. Completion: 95 %.
It grated on Connor's nerves, but she was right. All the androids he had known had turned deviant either through traumatic events or by another deviant android's touch. Clayton was cruel and ruthless, but she wasn't the kind of person who beat an android for the fun of it. Not when she could use non-violent means instead. "Corporate espionage then?" he mused.
"Even if someone managed to hack our androids – which hasn't happened even once until now – my android wouldn't have had any useful information. She wasn't even connected to my local network or the internet. I updated her manually whenever the need arose."
Generating iris scan. Completion: 100 %. Generating voice profile. Completion: 100 %.
For a split-second Connor's processor performance hitched when he was notified that he had successfully gotten two out of three biological characteristics from Clayton. Even if they got nothing useful out of her regarding their case, this visit had already been a success. Now, the last remaining thing he needed from her were her fingerprints.
"Lieutenant, it's clear to me that you don't want to tell me what this is really about," Clayton started, "because you mistrust me and the position I hold, which makes you a smart man. But let's cut the chase: Immediately after you left, André told me about your visit and what you've told him. He's a smart man and knows who to keep on his side." She leaned back. "You think the kidnapping of Kamski's android and the disappearance of mine is connected."
Hank didn't show any outward signs of annoyance, but from a long time of proximity Connor could clearly read the feeling in the more-than-usual downturn of the corner of his lips, the twitching of his right eyelid and the way his gaze was fixed on Clayton without ever straying away.
"Do you think it could be?" he just asked.
Clayton shrugged. "I wouldn't know. Kamski has been a reclusive for so many years already, I wouldn't know what secrets anyone hopes to gleam from his android. I'm sorry, but I think you've come all the way here for nothing."
"One last thing: As CEO of such a divisive company as Cyberlife you surely receive threats every now and then. Anything stood out recently?"
A shadow fell over Clayton's face. "There was. I think I still got it in my desk. Usually, I don't keep threat mail, but this stood out." She stood up and walked over to her desk. After rummaging through it for a few seconds, she pulled out a piece of paper and brought it back. Seeing his chance, Connor took the paper when she offered it to Hank.
"As android I don't contaminate anything I touch," he explained at both humans' confused gaze.
Generating fingerprint model. Completion 100%.
He looked down on the paper: A beautifully hand-drawn apple, around which a snake was coiling, its green scales shimmering under the onlooker's gaze while the snake's red eyes bore into the observer as if it was not looking at you, but straight at your very core.
Underneath the illustration a few words had been written in beautiful artistic hand lettering: 'God could not keep conscience from His creation. You are no God.'
'The Children of Eden,' Connor instantly thought. "Do you know what it means?"
"Of course I do," Clayton replied. "We've got quite a few religious groups out there who think that Cyberlife's mission conflicts with their deity's grand schemes of humanity."
"What makes this so special that you'd keep this in your desk, though?" Hank inquired, having taken a peek over Connor's shoulder.
"The reason is quite mundane: I like the artwork," Clayton admitted. "When this came up in my review of the threat mail I received, it caught my attention. Not many things do, so I decided to keep it – after it was cleared, of course."
"If you don't mind, we'd like to keep this."
"You can have it," Clayton replied. "It's probably of more use to you than to me. I think this concludes our business then?"
"Can't think of anything else," Hank spoke. All at once, the three of them stood up and walked over to the hallway from where Connor and Hank had arrived.
"You'll find the way to the elevator by yourself, I assume? And please don't try anything; we've got cameras everywhere."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"Next time, Lieutenant, make an appointment or get a warrant. Otherwise, I'll sue you and the department for everything you're worth."
"You're in for some steep disappointment then."
"Even the destitute still got something they can't bear to lose." Then Clayton turned to look at Connor. "Very nice to meet you, Connor." This was the first time she had used his name. "I do look forward to the results you'll be giving Cyberlife. Giving me." She graced them with one last cold smile, and then she turned around and stalked back into her office.
"Well, that was a waste of time," Hank complained as the elevator doors closed behind them and they made their way downwards.
"No, not really, Lieutenant," Connor spoke, biting off the corner of the piece of paper. And as the data from his sensors came in, he added: "I know exactly where to find whoever printed this."
