Chapter Four: A Bad Feeling

Crisp air blew through the doors of the DPD as Connor and Hank entered the facility, stirring loose papers at the edge of the reception desk. The morning was chilly, as most Detroit autumn mornings were, but the skies were clear. Connor was relieved when he awoke to find that the pain of the previous day had subsided entirely, leaving him back at full operational capacity.

He sat at the neat desk he had claimed as his own. Though most of the desks in the DPD were filled with items that personalized each to their owner, Connor's had only a few identifying markers.

The gold name plate that sat at the side of his desk read Det. Connor. The plate seemed odd in comparison to the rest of the plates; given the fact that androids were not given last names, however, it was only fitting.

Near the terminal of his desk sat a small framed photograph. Though Connor had no need for material reminders of his life, he found that he liked having a small part of his life available to him without him having to scan his memory banks.

The photograph had been taken at Christmas last year. Markus had insisted that he and Hank attend a small gathering at the Manfred residence, since the two were key in the revolution. In the photo, the small group of people were arranged in an awkward gathering. Simon and Josh were seated in the front with awkward but genuine smiles plastered on their faces. Standing just behind them were North and Markus, who each had an arm slung around the other and appeared to be mid-laugh. Markus' other arm was wrapped around Connor's shoulders. He had managed a smile, even though it felt wildly unnatural. Hank was kneeling next to Connor, his face filled with annoyance as he glanced upward at the Santa hat he had been forced to wear by North. Sumo sat just in front of him, grinning in a way only a St. Bernard could manage.

The photo seemed out of place amidst the pristine condition of the rest of his desk, but Connor didn't mind.

Hank had sat in the chair across from him after getting a cup of coffee from the break room. No sooner than he had sat down and was about to take a drink when a booming voice sounded over the bustle of the room.

"Anderson! Connor! My office!"

Hank grimaced and looked at Connor. "Every fucking time I sit down, Fowler's gotta shove a stick up my ass."

Sighing, Hank relinquished his cup of coffee to the surface of his desk and rose out of his chair. He headed towards Fowler's office with Connor close behind.

Seated in Fowler's office, the police captain looked back and forth between the two of them. He settled his gaze on Connor. "How're you doing, Connor? After Saturday?"

Connor met his gaze with calm, brown eyes. "My systems are functioning optimally, and I detect no lasting damage."

Fowler looked to Hank, who shrugged. Nodding, Fowler sat back in his seat, folding his hands in his lap.

"I thought you two might like to know that the attack on Connor wasn't an isolated incident. We've had three other reports of individuals - both humans and androids - who have broken into homes only to attack an android with a cattle prod. The other three androids didn't survive. Quite frankly, it's a miracle you did."

Connor winced slightly, remembering the effects of the brutal instrument. The pain surrounding the area had vanished, but the charring was still visible. The artificial skin had been severely damaged in the process, and was thus taking a little longer to heal than it normally would have.

"The question is, why are they targeting androids? And why are humans and androids doing it together? We've had android attacks on other androids, as well as the obvious human attacks on androids, but we've never seen a hate crime organization comprised of humans and androids alike."

Hank coughed once, then groaned as he shifted in his seat. "Any idea who's behind the attacks?"

"No one's claimed responsibility yet, but with crimes as bold as this, it's only a matter of time before someone does."

Fowler explained details of the deaths of the other androids, but Connor found himself staring off into space. Androids being targeted by humans or other androids was not an uncommon thing. Androids being targeted by humans AND androids, however, was an entirely different matter.

He snapped out of his reverie when the door to Fowler's office was thrown open. Officer Chris Miller stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and a grim expression on his face.

"What is it, Miller?" Fowler asked as he stood from behind his desk. The two officers sitting in front of the desk followed suit.

"There's been another attack, sir. The cattle prod guys. Down at a warehouse by the piers."

Fowler sighed, his head lowering for a moment. Connor turned to face Miller.

"Did the android survive?"

Miller looked grim.

"That's just the thing. It was a human."

The other three occupants of the room stood in stunned silence until Chris broke it.

"And they left a note this time."