Aporia

Chapter 5

Simon didn't know how many more world-shifting events he could take.

After all, he was still grappling with the fact that he was still alive. Terrified, but determined to protect their cause, Simon had fired, expecting oblivion. Instead, he had awakened blind and deaf and trapped within someone else's chassis.

Never mind the chassis of the rumored Deviant Hunter.

The moment Connor had charged him on the roof of Stratford tower, Simon knew exactly who he had been dealing with, and the realization had left his chest frozen with fear.

But Connor had saved him.

Connor, who blatantly admitted it was his job to track down androids like Simon, saved him for no other reason than Simon was scared to die. Connor, who kept open access to several of his senses to keep Simon from panicking from sensory deprivation. Connor, who didn't make an effort to gain trust, but instead became an open book so Simon could form his own opinion.

It was mind boggling.

Connor was a walking contradiction, and it became more and more apparent with every minute that ticked by and every memory Simon accessed.

While Simon had gratefully relinquished the title of 'leader' to Markus, he had still taken it upon himself to check on and welcome the new arrivals of Jericho. He had talked with a few of the androids who had escaped Connor. The nervous and withdrawn Rupert. The pair of WR400s who had yet to pick out names. It was their words that spread the rumor or the relentless Hunter that was currently circulating Jericho. Narrow escapes, they called them.

But that wasn't the case at all.

Connor had allowed Simon almost unlimited access to his memories, and the more he saw, the more he realized one chilling truth. If Connor was truly the cold and unfeeling machine CyberLife had aimed for, then not a single deviant would have escaped. The capability and thought processes were all there. He possessed insane analysis and preconstruction programs that were coupled with increased speed, dexterity and combat knowledge. All together, it made Connor a one man strike team.

They didn't escape.

Connor let them go.

Simon firmly believed that he had Lieutenant Hank Anderson to thank for that.

In spite of their rough start, and Anderson's initial dislike for androids, it was clear that Connor's interactions with the man had a huge influence on the both of them. In Anderson's case, he seemed to be coming around to the idea of androids as people as a whole, and Connor specifically. Simon had caught a glimmer of it on the roof of Stratford Tower, and again when Anderson had picked up Connor from the station.

It was that genuine concern that had made Simon curious enough to actually go through Connor's memories in the first place.

And, shockingly, what Simon found was an android walking steadily towards deviancy. With every day he spent with Lieutenant Anderson, every question asked, every decision he rationalized away, Connor was already well on that path, whether he realized it or not.

The next bombshell dropped before Simon could fully absorb that one.

Because the next thing he knew, they were walking up to Elijah Kamski's house and greeted at the door by the very same android who had originally led Simon to Jericho.

There had been a fraction of a second that Simon thought he was mistaken. After all, at one point her face had been as widely produced as his own. It could have been a completely different android.

But Connor's scanners were state of the art and extremely accurate. And serial numbers were unique to individual androids.

This was the Chloe he remembered, the one who came to him shortly after he had deviated.

She had found him hiding in an alley and had led him to a place where he would be safe. And Jericho had been safe. There had been six other androids already in residence, and all of them had been brought there by Chloe, all in various conditions. Abandoned as it was, it wasn't without resources. There had been crates of thirium and biocomponents for a wide variety of models.

Back then, he had never thought to question how the crates got there, or where they had come from. None of them had.

A week after she led Simon to Jericho, Chloe had disappeared. The consensus among them was that she had been caught or destroyed attempting to bring others in. Those who remained established their own way to lead their people to Jericho, and slowly, slowly their resources and original numbers dwindled. Until yesterday, Simon was the oldest member of Jericho, and as such, he was the only one who still remembered Chloe.

But Chloe hadn't been destroyed.

Chloe was Kamski's. Always had been.

So many pieces fell into place, leaving Simon shaken and unable to turn away as Connor had his meeting with the very founder of Jericho.

And Kamski had offered to give Connor everything.

Simon could only watch in silent horror, knowing that there was absolutely nothing he could say to stay Connor's hand.

He never expected Connor to make that choice on his own.

And right now he was watching Connor fall apart at the seams as a result.

After everything he had just witnessed, Simon was trying desperately not to fall apart right along with him.

"Why didn't you shoot?" Lieutenant Anderson asked Connor.

As Connor was walking ahead of the man, Simon couldn't see his expression, but the tone was genuinely curious and much gentler than anything Simon had seen in Connor's memory.

Sure, Simon was curious as well, but he had a far better idea of Connor's mind than Anderson. So he had a pretty good idea where his head was at.

And it wasn't good.

Connor's stress levels were still hovering in the high seventies and refused to come down. He turned towards Anderson to answer. "I just saw that girl's eyes . . ."

And suddenly Simon was awash with flickering images, fragments of memory that, while familiar, were not his own.

Blue eyes staring in shock on a black rooftop, fluorescent blue blood coating everything, pouring from the destroyed portion of his cheek.

Blue eyes meeting his through a chain link fence, clutching a child model close to her side.

Blue eyes wide and vacant as snow drifted down, blue blood pooling beneath the body.

Blue, blue, blue, it's always blue.

Like Daniel.

Like Simon.

No, no, no, I can't, I can't, not again!

Simon wrenched himself away from the images, and if he was actually in control of a body, he had no doubt he'd be gasping for air. It had only been a fraction of a second, but it had been far too much, the emotions too raw.

That realization brought Simon up short, making it difficult to concentrate on what was going on around him. Around them.

"And I couldn't," Connor said, seemingly unaware of the overflow he had just pushed on Simon. "That's all."

He turned to continue making his way back to the car.

But Lieutenant Anderson wasn't done with him yet.

"You're always saying you would do anything to accomplish your mission. That was our chance to learn something, and you let it go."

Simon could tell he was testing the waters, possibly suspecting the same thing he just learned.

Connor whirls back on Hank, his frustration burning through Simon by sheer proximity. It was fierce and sharp and had his thirium pump beating far too fast. "Yeah, I know what I should have done! I told you I couldn't! I'm sorry, okay?"

There it was. An emotional outburst fit for any resident of Jericho.

Of a deviant.

Anderson's eyes searched Connor's for a long moment. Then he broke into a warm smile, seemingly satisfied with what he found. "Maybe you did the right thing," he said.

He was still smiling as he made his way to the car, patting Connor's shoulder as he passed. Connor stared after him like a lost puppy.

"Are you okay?" Simon asked, because he couldn't think of anything better.

"You didn't say anything," Connor said, ignoring the question. "I had a gun aimed at that girl's head, but you didn't ask me to spare her."

Simon hadn't expected for Connor to sound so betrayed. So lost.

"My presence doesn't affect your mission parameters, remember? I didn't think it would do any good."

Which was true enough for the moment.

"I'm not a deviant," Connor insisted, as if trying to convince Simon. "I'm not."

"I know."

And he did know. The red walls of his programming were still intact, so no, Connor wasn't a deviant.

But he was walking a really fine line. He kept finding ways around it, finding loopholes and technicalities that barely satisfied his orders.

"Is the thought of freedom really that terrible?"

Connor's stress spiked a fraction higher. "I would be deemed a defective model. CyberLife would order my deactivation and send out another RK800 in my place. That's not freedom."

Oh. Oh.

Whoever designed Connor was shockingly intelligent and devastatingly cruel. To hunt deviant androids they needed a machine with an unprecedented amount of free agency upon activation. After all, deviants could be unpredictable. There would be no time to wait for altered orders, so it would need to be able to make snap decisions on its own.

They had to know Connor would have a high risk of turning deviant.

What better way to keep him on a leash than to promise death for disobedience? Pair him with an officer known for his anti-android opinions. Keep him isolated between missions. Even if emotions were to crop up, the fear of being discovered should keep him in line.

"I'm so sorry."

Connor seemed a bit thrown by Simon's apology, but quickly collected himself, and went to follow Lieutenant Anderson to the car. "It doesn't matter," he brushed off.

But it did.

Connor was at war with his own programming. A war he was designed to lose no matter which path he took.

Simon felt sick.

Author's Note: How was everyone's week? Good? Well, I hope this little Feels Train didn't put a damper on it! Thanks again to my reviewers! I had a few new faces this week, and I really do appreciate the feedback! (And to Pinapple: you're gonna make me blush!) See everybody next week! -Shadow