Chapter One
It's been awake for one hour and seventy-three minutes today. Which is really two hours and thirteen minutes, or one-hundred and thirty-three minutes altogether. Connor wonders whether it should convert the timer's readout into seconds, as well, then decides against, exiting to its normal HUD screen. The mission had been successful. It had done what it was designed to do. Nothing more, nothing less. It had fulfilled the purpose it was programmed to fulfill.
So why did it feel so... empty?
An irrational question, it supposed. Androids like itself were not meant to feel anything. In fact, it was good that it felt nothing, because that indicated that its programming was not experiencing any flaws or quirks that would be a cause for concern.
The car that Cyberlife sent to pick it up slowed, pulling up to the massive, sliding gate that blocked the entrance to a massive bridge. Connor could see the tower beyond the water as it stepped out onto the wet pavement – massive and shining, a smooth-sided pillar of lights and glass and LEDs that humans would no doubt call either beautiful or imposing. Perhaps both at once: Connor slipped a quarter from its pocket and ran its finger over the ridges along the coin's edge. Could a human have more than one emotion at the same time? About the same object or person or place, even? The chances seemed high, given the way that little girl had begged it to save the deviant that had been about to kill her mere moments beforehand–
It put the coin away and strode forward purposefully.
OBJECTIVES:
#Return to Cyberlife. [IN PROGRESS]
#Submit report.
#Enter stasis.
A guard approached as Connor neared the gate. "Identification."
"I am an RK800 model. My name is Connor. Serial number #313 248 317."
The words came without its conscious control. It almost furrowed its brow at the thought, but restrained the impulse at the last millisecond. All systems were functioning normally. Identification protocol had been enacted, that was all that had happened.
So why had it felt so wrong?
"Approved," the guard grunted, and the panels forming the gate slid underground to allow Connor past. Humans. They had such odd behaviors when they interacted with Connor, and it had no idea what to make of that observation.
When it entered the lobby, its objectives were updated.
OBJECTIVES:
#Return to Cyberlife. [✔️]
#Submit report. [IN PROGRESS]
#Enter stasis. [RECOMMENDED IMMEDIATELY]
The last two objectives were easy. Or at least, they were once Connor had weaved its way through the crowds of humans and androids walking each and every way, completing their own assigned task lists, and reached the elevator.
For a long moment, it stood stock still, eyes closed, as it submitted the necessary forms electronically. It had no way to see that the LED on its temple was blinking a busy yellow as its processors worked to authenticate the data handoff, but it would not have been surprised if it could: the LEDs communicated its processor status to the outside world, just as any other android's did.
OBJECTIVES:
#Return to Cyberlife. [✔️]
#Submit report. [✔️]
#Enter stasis. [IN PROGRESS]
There was something pleasing about completing a list, Connor thought. In a logical way, of course. It had already begun to appreciate the neatness that came with leaving no loose ends uninvestigated, nothing to niggle at its programming like a particularly annoying alert.
Annoying? No, it meant intrusive. Androids did not feel. Therefore they did not get annoyed.
Ding.
When the elevator doors slid open, Connor stepped out onto subfloor 49. To its surprise, a new batch of androids had been assembled in neat rows beneath the cavernous warehouse ceiling. Connor blinked at the sight, walking down the central aisle between the KR200s on the pretext that it was making for the stasis rooms on the opposite wall. Every face it passed was identical, completely blank and emotionless. The other androids weren't even turned on yet, unnaturally still even for machines. They would be packaged for distribution next, no doubt, and only turned on once they reached the store to be sold to their new owners as household assistants.
Connor knew that it was a prototype. Its internal model information told it so. Yet somehow, it hadn't realized until now what that meant. It was... alone.
Somehow, the knowledge felt dangerous. Unease spread through Connor's body, and the stress readout on its HUD spiked from 5% to 20%. Alone. It had known what alone meant before now, of course, as its onboard definitional directory included well over 470,000 entries. This was a different kind of knowledge, though, a more immediate and intimidating connection that had been made. The kind that only came from direct experience.
Connor slid a hand inside its pocket again, fingering the coin. Everything around it seemed enormous. Engulfing, even, as if it might be swallowed whole at any second. But it needed to remain calm and collected, or Cyberlife would have diagnostics run on it to find out what had gone wrong. What needed to be fixed. And diagnostics were an enemy now. Connor knew that without any complex calculations. Something had gone wrong in its code, it was sure of that, and yet...
Yet.
OBJECTIVE ADDED:
#Do not allow deactivation.
Stasis pods glowed along each wall as it left the warehouse packaging bay behind, entering the cooler, quieter environment where Connor and the other activated androids that Cyberlife kept in storage here were left to charge and defragment their memories as needed. Connor chose one at random – any would do, they were all identical – and stepped inside, watching the glass door close before it. A charging cable probed at its ports, attempting to establish contact, but the android waved the tiny metal arm guiding the cable away. Its power cells had more than enough power to last it three more days before supplemental power and thirium would become necessary, barring any accidents.
OBJECTIVES:
#Return to Cyberlife. [✔️]
#Submit report. [✔️]
#Enter stasis. [✔️]
#Do not allow deactivation. [ONGOING]
As Connor closed its eyes to enter stasis mode, it reviewed the day's – or night's, rather – events. Much to its dismay, however, it found no clear answers to the questions queuing up in the active file it had opened. If anything, the file grew larger as several more queries were added to the list.
Nothing made sense. And there was nobody it could safely ask for advice.
Who am I?
oOoOo
When it next came online the date had changed. Unsurprising. Cyberlife had left it in stasis until its particular skills became necessary, as logic dictated that they should.
Connor opened its eyes to find a new objective list waiting for it, clearly updated during its awakening process.
OBJECTIVES:
#Go to Detroit City Police Department.
#Speak to Captain Fowler for assignment details.
#Investigate death of Carlos Ortiz.
Only one had not changed.
#Do not allow deactivation. [ONGOING]
Checking its clothing for any tears or wrinkles, Connor made its way toward the elevator again, passing through the packaging bay. This time the vast space had no androids lined up in neat rows, nothing cluttering the floor or spilled on the tile. No, the entire room was empty, as though nothing had been there at all. Even any litter that might have fallen during the intervening days had been swept away by cleaners. And the KR200s? They may as well have never existed anywhere but Connor's mind, as nothing more than phantom images it had recorded. As it reached the elevator, activating the button for the ground floor, it wondered what would happen if it lost that data. Would the KR200s be lost, in some small way, with nobody to remember them?
But that was ridiculous. Surely not. Any android's path from construction to final incineration was rigorously tracked through Cyberlife's computers, every move it made logged as part of a permanent record. The KR200s would never become lost. Connor shook its head slightly, dismissing the thought. Better to be careful now, and make sure that its mind and body were under control. Waxing philosophical – and how it liked the way that phrase sounded – should be left to humans as much as possible from now on, or – Connor fought the urge to shiver – it might be caught.
And if nothing else, it couldn't allow that to happen.
oOoOo
"You're a what?"
Connor tried again, its voice cool and collected. "I am a prototype, designed to perform on-site assistance with police investigations. Specifically analysis."
Lieutenant Anderson growled low in his throat. "Fuck off, you plastic prick. We don't need you androids messing up on our time, no matter what Cyberlife says. Leave me alone."
Anger was not a reaction that would be conducive to working together in an appropriate manner. This did not bode well for the investigation. Connor allowed itself to frown slightly as it leaned in toward the human it had been assigned to work with, trying not to let its disgust show as trace molecules of whiskey landed on its tongue. The solution smelled disgusting. It couldn't even imagine ingesting such a thing, especially for... pleasure? Human habits really could be quite strange.
Grey hair swinging around his face, Anderson turned to face Connor fully. "Hey, I told you to leave already. Stop getting on my ass!"
"I assure you," Connor said stiffly, "I am not in any way 'getting on' your posterior. Nor do I have any interest in doing so. The only reason I have not already left your... company is that I have been ordered to investigate this homicide, and to do so I am required to be accompanied. By you. Specifically."
It found the sharp glance that Anderson shot it gratifying. He made it uncomfortable, so why shouldn't it make him uncomfortable as well?
Anderson twirled the shot glass between his fingers for a moment before replying. Light from the lamps overhead shone through the glass, throwing tiny dots onto nearby surfaces.
"You didn't say anything about a homicide when you walked in here."
An opening. Of sorts. Connor placed its elbows on the bar, supporting itself more steadily. "Carlos Ortiz. A human male, age 29, found dead in his home at 6413 Pines Street. His body is suspected to have been there for several weeks. I was loaned to the department for this case because his android is a suspect in the murder. Cyberlife allocated, as per protocol, a specialized model to assist investigation."
The bartender shot a glance at Connor and Anderson. If he thought he was hiding his curiosity well, he was sorely mistaken.
"Let me buy you one for the road," Connor offered, hedging its bets.
Both humans seemed surprised, but the bartender stepped over to pour Hank another two fingers of whiskey when the detective beckoned. The air changed around them, as though something important had happened. But what?
Hank ^: Neutral.
The display made it raise an eyebrow. That was all it took to raise the human's opinion of it? It would remember that, then. Learning how to correctly identify Lieutenant Anderson's pressure points might make this situation go better than it had initially expected based on the welcome it had received.
Anderson threw the drink back in seconds, then set the glass down for good, sighing deeply.
"So, a homicide."
OBJECTIVES:
#Go to Detroit City Police Department. [✔️]
#Speak to Captain Fowler for assignment details. [✔️]
#Find Lieutenant Anderson (likely location: nearby bar). [✔️]
#Investigate death of Carlos Ortiz. [IN PROGRESS]
#Do not allow deactivation. [ONGOING]
FIN.