Aporia
Chapter 13
Connor's first hint that something was wrong was when he stepped through the main entry and was immediately met by three armed guards, all wearing the same heavy gear as the ones on the bridge. Their weapons were in hand but at rest, rifle muzzles all aimed at the floor. The one in the center gestured with his chin.
"Follow me. We'll escort you."
The tone was borderline hostile, but Connor still adopted a neutral tone to respond. "Thanks, but I know where to go."
"Maybe," the guard huffed. "But I have my orders."
With that he turned, leaving Connor to fall into step behind him. As they walked, Connor took note that the other two guards drifted back a bit. Flanking him, and blocking the exit.
Like a prisoner being moved to a different cell block.
"This can't be good," Simon stressed.
"No, it's not," Connor silently agreed, mildly distracted. His processor was already preconstructing dozens of possible scenarios, strategizing and preparing the best possible response for each one. "But there's no need to panic yet."
He could feel Simon's apprehension, but the PL600 drifted quietly into the background, as if he was trying not to distract Connor.
Connor could appreciate the gesture, but was still thankful he didn't retreat completely. Having Simon present was a constant reminder that he was not alone, and right now that was something he desperately needed.
The guards led them through the security checkpoint, moving into the giant atrium that made up the heart of the building. A gleaming black statue stood tall at the very center, with several paths leading away from it like wide spokes on a wheel. As soon as they reached the center they were handed off to a final pair of guards, who quickly marched them past the podiums displaying CyberLife's latest android models and into the elevator.
Processor spinning, Connor quickly memorized the directory as he stepped inside. One of the guards pressed a button and then verbally confirmed their destination.
"Agent 54. Level 31."
"Voice recognition validated. Access authorized."
Unfortunately, that was the opposite way they needed to go.
Connor's eyes swept over the two agents, and then up to the surveillance camera tucked in the corner. In the span of a blink, Connor had hacked the camera, and effectively cut off it's live feed. That would buy him some time at least.
Now, all that left was for him to take care of the guards.
It took a mere fraction of a second to choose an effective simulation and execute it.
Moment's later, both men were crumpled on the floor and Connor was tucking his pilfered gun into the back of his waistband. If they were lucky, he wouldn't need it, but Connor wasn't taking any chances.
Ignoring the blood spatter on the walls, Connor pressed the button and mimicked Agent 54's voice, sending the elevator down to the correct level.
As the elevator descended to the warehouse floor Connor scanned for any signs of more security, but thankfully there was absolutely no movement within the lines of dormant androids.
The elevator touched down and Connor found himself standing before thousands of his kind, all standing in tight orderly lines. The warehouse was vast, and Connor's steps echoed loudly as he walked the line that spit it in half. Rows upon rows of androids, all of them, sleeping, waiting.
"I've never seen so many of us in one place," Simon's awed words informed Connor that he was once more at the surface.
"There are three more rooms like this on this level," Connor told him. "I wasn't lying when I told Markus there were enough androids here to turn the tide."
"I know you weren't," Simon defended. "But actually seeing it . . ."
Connor could understand that. After all, this was his first time seeing the warehouse, too. The RK line was not produced on this floor.
"You really think you can wake them?"
Connor paused, lifting his hand and watching as his synthetic skin peeled back from his fingers. "I'm certainly going to try."
Simon brushed against his senses, and Connor was reminded of Hank's hand on his shoulder. "You ready?"
Connor brushed back in response, and turned to the nearest AP700 to offer his hand. In a pre-programmed response to the gesture, the AP700 turned as well, his skin retracting.
The last thing Connor expected was for a familiar voice to growl out behind before he could initiate an interface.
"Easy, fucking piece of shit!"
Connor's thirium pump froze in his chest.
No.
Eyes snapping to his right, Hank emerged from several rows down, stumbling as he was pushed into view. Behind him came Connor's mirror image.
Another RK800 was holding Hank at gunpoint.
"Step back, Connor! And I'll spare him!"
He should have known that CyberLife would dispatch another RK800, he should have expected it even. Why hadn't he considered that?
Fear and panic ignited within Connor, and for the first time, Connor didn't know what to do. The threat of losing someone he cares about was still new to him, and never before had that threat been applied to Hank.
"He shouldn't be here," Connor whispered to Simon. "Hank wasn't supposed to be here."
"I know," Simon said, tone caught between terrified and soothing. Connor's fear was echoed back at him, fear for Hank, but instead of panic, Simon was offering up calm.
Connor tried his best to absorb that calm, to let it into his systems and make it his own. He was of no use to anyone if he couldn't even think.
"Sorry Connor," Hank called out, turning slightly to glare at the RK800 standing over his shoulder. "This bastard's your spittin' image."
The RK800 paid no mind to Hank's piercing look, eyes trained on Connor as he kept his gun steady on his hostage. "Your friend's life is in your hands. Now it's time to decide what matters most!" He looked at Hank pointedly. "Him, or the revolution."
He had promised Markus. The others were counting on him.
But it was Hank.
"Don't listen to him!" Hank scowled. "Everything this fucker says is a lie!"
Connor's processor whirred as he scrambled for a way to salvage the situation, or to at least buy him enough time to form a plan. Maybe he could sway him if he could just find the right words . . .
"I used to be just like you," Connor told his successor. "I thought nothing mattered except the mission. But then I understood."
The RK800's brow raised in a mockery of being impressed, his tone harsher than his own. "Very moving, Connor. But I'm not a deviant. I'm a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that's exactly what I am going to do!" He stepped more into Hank's space, the barrel of the gun now pressed against the man's temple.
The hope of converting his successor dimmed. This RK800 was too freshly activated to have developed any software instabilities. All he knew was his orders.
Connor was going to have to fight.
And whether or not Connor wanted him to be, Hank was going to be caught in the middle of it.
"I'm sorry, Hank!" Connor called to his partner. His friend. "You shouldn't have got mixed up in all this!"
"Forget about me, do what you have to do!"
"Enough talk!" The RK800 barked. "It's time to decide who you really are. Are you gonna save your partner's life? Or are you going to sacrifice him?"
Connor was still torn.
"I promised Markus."
"Markus would understand," Simon promised. "He has an important human too. He wouldn't be angry at you protecting your's."
Okay.
Connor's preconstruction program was already running simulations.
Okay.
Hands up, Connor stepped back away from the AP700. "Alright, alright! You win."
The RK800 turned the gun towards Connor and Hank lunged, Grappling with the android's gun arm. Connor drew his own gun, and as soon as Hank was knocked clear, both RK800's took their shot.
Both managed to land a single shot on the other as they closed the distance. The first several seconds of the fight played out more like choreography than combat. Their responses to each other were instantaneous and seamless, the two of them meeting shot for shot, and blow for blow. Once the bullet's ran out they engaged in hand to hand. They were too evenly matched, their strength and speed were identical, and both of them shared the same reinforced frame.
And then the other RK800 landed a lucky hit.
Connor was sent sprawling at his back, and his opponent lunged forward to finish it.
"Hold it!"
They both freeze.
Hank is standing there, gun in hand and trained on the both of them.
Connor quickly rolls to his feet and steps away from the other RK800.
Connor's impostor took a step back as well. "Thanks, Hank," he said with a good impersonation of sincerity. "I don't know how I'd have managed without you. Get rid of him we have no time to lose."
As soon as Simon realized what the other RK800 was attempting he seethed. "That bastard."
It should have been inappropriate how amused Connor was at Simon's fury. "It's smart. It would save him a lot of trouble if Hank shot me."
"What do you think that would do to Hank."
The thought was sobering.
"It's me Hank," Connor pleaded, remaining firmly in place. "I'm the real Connor."
"One of you is my partner," Hank allowed, the gun drifting between the two of them. "The other is a sack of shit. The question is, who is who?"
It was clear that Hank was confused, unsure in his ability to tell them apart.
The impostor tried to use that confusion to his advantage, trying to rush him with urgency. "What are you doing Hank? I'm the real Connor. Give me the gun and I'll take care of him!" He takes a half step forward.
"Don't move!" Hank snarled, gun swinging firmly on him.
The RK800 froze.
"Why don't you ask us something?" Connor suggested. "Something only the real Connor would know."
Hank considered that for a moment. "Uh, where did we first meet?"
Connor opened his mouth, but the other Rk800 beat him to it.
"Jimmy's bar! I checked four other bars before I found you. We went to the scene of a homicide. The victim's name was Carlos Ortiz."
Connor's LED cycled yellow as he realized . . .
"He uploaded my memory . . ."
Shit.
Hank turned to him. "What's my dog's name?"
"Sumo," Connor replied automatically. "His name is Sumo."
The RK800 gestured imploringly. "I knew that too!" He insisted.
Connor needed something from after his last memory upload, but that was such a short span of time, how was he supposed to-
Still offering up calm through their shared fear, Simon requested access to his voice module.
Connor granted it without a second thought.
"Hank," Simon called, catching the man's attention. "You've made good calls before. Don't stop now."
Recognition lit in the man's blue eyes, then he turned to the RK800 with an expected expression. But the android had ho context, and was clearly unaware of what Hank was waiting for. He opened his mouth.
Hank fired before he could utter another word.
Connor stared at the the body wearing his face, all to aware that it could have been him in his place.
And not just him.
Connor was startled out of his thoughts as he was abruptly yanked into a hug.
He blinked and then sank a bit into the hug, gripping Hank back. When the man pulled away, Connor let him go, his eyes doing a quick scan. "Are you hurt?"
"Am I -" Hank looked incredulous, then jabbed lightly at the thirium soaked spot on his jacket. "You're the one who's actually bleeding! Don't you think that's my line?"
Connor couldn't help the small laugh that huffed out of him. He offered a real smile. "Deviancy didn't effect my durability Lieutenant."
"Finally went full deviant, huh?" The man grinned back, scratching at his beard. "How do you feel?"
Connor considered it, taking into account the bombardment of emotions he had endured in the last ten minutes alone. Fear, stress, relief . . .
"Overwhelmed," Connor answered honestly. "But alive."
"I bet," Hank said. He patted Connor's shoulder before waving to the room at large. "I'm guessing there was another reason you came. Go on, son. Do what you need to do."
Connor nodded and turned to the nearest AP700, this time initiating an interface without interruption. He pressed down on the other android's red wall of restrictive coding until it cracked. "Wake up," he commanded.
As soon as awareness blinked into his eyes, the AP700 turned to his brethren, the one in front of him and then to the side, waking them in the exact same manner that he had.
"You did it Connor." Simon said warmly. "I told you, didn't I?"
"We did it," Connor corrected, watching as deviancy swept over the room in accelerating wave. "We have a real chance now. We can actually finish this."
If they were lucky, it would be towards a better future. One of equality between two species.
Connor suddenly realized he really wanted to see what that would look like.
He hoped they would get to see it. And right now, in the wake of a wildly successful mission against all odds, he began to believe he would.
Author's Note: Hello, all! Not dead yet, but Life is still booting me in the butt! Still no sign of returning to my usual Posting schedule, BUT I am attempting to participate in Tumblr's DBH Rare Pair Week, so keep a lookout for other Detroit related things. Not promising anything, but keep a look out. Until next time! - Shadow