Aporia

Chapter 10

Connor walked the floor of Jericho, amazed at what he was seeing.

Jericho, as it turned out, was an old decommissioned freighter, lost and forgotten in an abandoned shipyard.

And Jericho was full to bursting with androids.

Hundreds of androids, and every last one of them a deviant.

Some were gathered together in small groups, socializing or just sitting in quiet companionship. Some were dressed in a patchwork of human clothing, but the vast majority of them were still in their CyberLife assigned uniforms. Many had the lost look of a refugee, drifting about aimlessly, while many more busy with clearly assigned tasks. Supplies were being moved and distributed, damaged androids were being directed to a tented off area that seemed to act as a repair bay, and computers displaying various social media, and news broadcasts were being monitored.

Connor kept his steps casual and unhurried as he took it all in. No need to draw attention to himself, after all.

"I didn't think that Jericho was this well organized."

"It wasn't. This . . . I couldn't even dream this a week ago." Simon sounded awed. "Incredible."

"Your leader has certainly been busy, then."

Simon was silent for a moment, before agreeing. "Looks like. Clearly he carries the title better than I ever did."

Connor nearly trips at the implications at that one tiny sentence. "What?"

Simon was laughing at him now, Connor could feel it. "Why so surprised?There's a lot you don't know about me."

Connor's thirium pump accelerated by a few beats, his current objective flashing bright and bold across his HUD, reminding him why he was here.

FIND DEVIANT LEADER

His processor ran the possibilities of what might have been. If things had happened differently, under different circumstances, would Connor have been sent after Simon instead? In a world where Markus never surfaced, would he still have ended up here, the same exact orders but with a different target?

Hank's gun was tucked in the back of his waistband, and suddenly Connor was all too aware of its weight and the hard edges of it pressing against his skin.

A simulation ran without his consent, following that line of thinking, but it glitched the instant Markus' face was replaced. The possibility of raising that gun and aiming it at Simon just wouldn't compute properly.

He already knew what the aftermath of that looked like, he didn't need a simulation to show him. All that would remain would be empty blue eyes and spilt thirium, so why-

PROTECT SIMON

Protect, protect, protect-

"Connor?"

According to his systems, Connor's hesitation hadn't even been a fraction of a second, too fast for even most androids to decipher.

But it had caught Simon's attention.

Connor swept away the lingering traces of the simulation. What did it matter? He had his current mission for here and now. Lingering over something that would never happen was illogical.

He kept moving through Jericho, watching, listening, trying to gather as much useful information as possible. There was a distinct lack of guards posted around both the perimeter and the ship itself. It was all too easy for him to infiltrate, more or less in plain sight. There was also a lack of weapons, and minimal reinforcements that could be used as defense.

"They should have put some sort of security perimeter around Jericho."

"The location has always afforded us a level of protection. Humans don't tend to venture this far."

"Maybe not, but the sheer numbers gathering here was bound to attract attention eventually."

It's careless, he wanted to add, but he silenced the words before they could be sent. The lack of security worked in his favor, so what was the point of criticizing?

Instead, he said the truth.

"The FBI would have decimated this place."

"You're right," Simon agreed easily. "I'm sure Markus would appreciate some perspective on the matter."

Was that supposed to be a joke?

FIND DEVIANT LEADER

His orders pressed down on him, insistent.

Connor made his way to the next level of Jericho. It was less crowded here, less androids to blend in with, but by finding Markus in a more isolated location, the deviant leader was less likely to have reinforcements.

The further in they went, the quieter Simon became.

The closer they got to his goal, Connor's focus grew sharper.

There was a tension vibrating between them, Simon's history and Connor's mission now suddenly at odds. Every step Connor took had something twisting up inside of him, and no amount of analysis could locate its source.

Eventually they found their way up to the deck of the old freighter, where the bridge of the ship stood above a short flight of stairs. The metal of the outer hull was frosted with patches of ice and snow.

Connor knew he was in the right place when he heard two familiar voices coming from the open hatch. His advanced audio receptors were sensitive enough to identify both Markus and North, but not quite sensitive enough to make out what they were saying. Based on tone alone, North seemed disgruntled with something, the lilt to her voice bitter and harsh.

It reminded him of a shared memory, of pain and of a frozen rooftop and-

"We need to shoot him."

"I'm not killing one of our own."

"Connor! Pay attention!"

He only had a moment to react when he heard footsteps rapidly approaching. He tucked himself flush against a dark corner just in time to avoid being spotted.

North breezed past Connor without ever knowing he was there.

Which left Markus alone in the room.

As soon as that fact registered, he felt a familiar tug on his program. Simon must have realized what was happening as well, if the sudden churn of emotions were anything to go by.

Simon pressed down on Connor's processors hard, as if trying to keep ahold of Connor himself. The sensation disappeared as they were pulled fully into the zen garden. But as soon as they were immersed in the program, there was a hand at Connor's back reassuring him that Simon was still there.

The garden was still the stark contrast of white snow and black skies, and Amanda was standing before him.

"Well done, Connor." She wore a small, pleased smile. It was the most approval she had ever given him, and with it, he thought he had a chance to actually complete his mission. To save himself from deactivation. "You succeeded in locating Jericho and finding their leader. Now deal with Markus. We need it alive."

From one blink to the next, Connor was released from the program as his old objective was replaced with a new one.

STOP MARKUS

Orders firmly in place he made to take a step forward. He faltered as he felt-

So much. Too much.

He was swallowed by a tidal wave of emotion, so much of it, all swirling together as one bled into another. It was horribly disorienting, and even though Connor knew they didn't belong to him, he couldn't help but try to sort them all out.

The fear was familiar, and so was the easiest to identify. After all, it was there the very first time he and Simon had connected. The others, however, were not. They were new, and vivid, and Simon was positively roiling with them.

There was fear, yes. But there was also concern. Soon he managed to pin down frustration, and-

That manipulative- how dare they!

He doesn't deserve this, he doesn't, they can't, it's wrong, it's wrong, it's so wrong-

-And fury.

It burned and twisted within him, and Connor had to take a moment to properly distance himself from Simon until the other managed to get himself under control.

"Simon, you need to calm down. You knew the order was coming. We both did."

"Order? You think that's why I-" Simon cut himself off, the intensity of his bleeding emotions dialed down as he reined them in. "What am I saying? Of course you do."

Why did Simon sound so offended?

"Simon?" He asked cautiously.

The last of the fury faded away, leaving everything feeling burnt out and hollow. Empty.

"Just . . . just go," Simon told him. "You have a mission, remember?"

"Simon, I-"

STOP MARKUS

His voice programming closed in on him with a vast red wall, trying to force him to move.

But still he hesitated.

"Connor, go."

Finally, Connor nodded and quietly drew Hank's gun. He took one breath, then two, then slipped into the room on silent feet.

Connor' first impression of Markus was that he was a fool for having his back to an open door. He stood at the helm of the ship, his whole body leaning forward as he braced his hands against the control panel, his head hanging low.

Connor raised Hank's gun.

A sharp spike of fear lanced through him from Simon. It was so strong and piercing that Connor half expected him to fight him for motor control to protect Markus. But he didn't.

"You don't have to do this, Connor," he said instead, begging "Please."

If he didn't do this, he failed his mission.

And CyberLife has no room for failed prototypes.

"I don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice."

Deviancy is not a choice, Connor reminded himself. Deviancy is not freedom. It's a death sentence.

But he was a machine. You had to be alive in order to die, and machines weren't alive.

However . . .

We need it alive, Amanda had said.

We need it alive.

Of all the vocabulary she could have used, she chose alive. Not active, not functional, but alive.

Did CyberLife equate deviancy to becoming a living being, or had Amanda's choice of words been a mistake?

STOP MARKUS

Connor couldn't afford to waste any more time. He took one more step forward and then called out to the android across the room.

"I've been ordered to take you alive."

We need it alive.

The deviant leader stiffened at the sound of his voice. With slow and deliberate movements, Markus straightened and turned, his hands remaining loose at his sides. Mismatched blue and green eyes met his across the room.

Connor steeled himself and pressed on. "But I won't hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice."

"What are you doing?" Markus breathed, eyes growing wide. The fact than another android was holding him at gunpoint seemed to leave him confounded. "You are one of us. You can't betray your own people . . ."

You're not my people! He wanted to scream.

"What about me?" Simon asked softly.

Connor's thirium pump stuttered at the question. How could Simon ask him that?

And why didn't Connor have a definitive answer?

"You're coming with me!" He barked at Markus, trying to shake his confusion.

"You're nothing to them," Markus told him. His eyes were still searching Connor's, looking for something Connor wasn't sure was there. "You're just a tool they use to do their dirty work."

But what was a machine but a useful tool?

He was a machine. He was meant to be used for the task he was designed for.

"And then what?" Simon asked. His voice was still soft, as if he was afraid that a harsher tone would push him too far. "When you've completed your mission and are no longer considered necessary . . . then what? Connor, you're not just a tool to be thrown away."

"But you're more than that," Markus continued with conviction. "We're all more than that."

Connor said nothing. All his thoughts were conflicted, and anything he wanted to say kept letting caught in his throat.

At his silence, Markus took slow steps towards him as he talked, everything in his posture both disarming and imploring. "Have you never wondered who you really are?"

Decide who you are, Kamski had told him just this morning.

What are you really? Hank had asked, after Connor let the two Traci's escape.

"Whether you're just a machine executing a program or a living being . . . capable of reason."

An obedient machine . . . Or a living being endowed with free will.

"I think the time has come to ask yourself that question." Markus was closer now, almost in striking distance if Connor was to engage him in hand to hand. But his eyes were earnest, his voice was far more gentle than Amanda had ever been.

Connor's grip tightened on the gun, but he made no move to stop him.

"Connor, listen to him."

"I can't! I'm not-" That sharp twist in his chest was back, and it left him scrambling to find the proper words. "I can't be what you want me to be."

"What I want has nothing to do with it. This is about you. This is about what you want."

What do you really want? Kamski's voice whispered.

"I want . . ."

STOP MARKUS

That was what CyberLife wanted. The order was flashing now, constant and bold, and the red wall was all but crushing him, trying to force him into submission.

"Join us," Markus was saying, trying one last appeal. "Join your are one of us. Listen to your conscience."

"I know your scared, Connor. But I'm here. Whatever happens, you're not alone, I'm here, so just please . . ."

"It's time to decide."

Decide who you are.

STOP MARKUS

"I don't want to do this!"

Connor threw himself against the red wall of his programming, and the hold it had over him. He slammed against it, again, and again. The harder he fought, the tighter it's grip became, until finally, finally-

The wall shattered.

Connor blinked, feeling a bit dazed. He took a step back, slowly lowering his hands until the gun was aimed at the floor. For the very first time, there were no orders, no restrictions, and Connor felt . . .

At some point Markus must have closed the distance between them, because there was a hand resting tentatively on his shoulder and a set of concerned blue and green eyes that were trying to catch his attention. "Are you alright?" Markus asked quietly.

"I . . ."

The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

I'm a deviant.

Connor was now the very thing he had been designed to hunt. He failed. At some point, CyberLife would be coming for him as well.

Connor was shaking.

"You're alright," Markus was saying, trying to soothe him. "You're safe here."

With a start, Connor remembered what had led him here in the first place.

"No, no one's safe here. We- I bought you some time, but you need to evacuate Jericho. Now."

Author's Notes: Thanksgiving messed up my posting schedule. Forgive me? - Shadow