Disclaimer:

This chapter contains the use of song lyrics. I do not own this music nor do I have the rights to it. I've included a citation of the mentioned album: Alex Turner(2018), Tranquillity Base Hotel and Casino (Domino), Arctic Monkeys


"How is she?" Jensen's hands still felt like they were freshly covered in blood.

The two met in a not-so-discrete cafe on the advice of Khatri. Meeting in such a bustling and loud environment made sense in theory, but in practice Jensen didn't enjoy having to carry his voice over others, especially considering the content of their conversation.

She gave Jensen a crooked smile; a smile of derision, "You would know that better than I would."

"She's not going to make it," he felt his insides cramp up as he said this. "She's not going to live much longer… Not unless you allow me to-"

"No," Khatri didn't give him another second to finish. "I'm not sacrificing what's left of her humanity. That would defeat the purpose of her existence. You understand?"

Jensen let out a stuttering breath through puckered lips, "Then why let her live at all? Don't you understand that she's suffering?"

"She needs to finish the job she started," Khatri leaned back in her wire chair and crossed her legs. "So long as she lives long enough to complete her mission, that's all that matters."

"She's got maybe a month left," he often found Khatri's coldness terrifying. The woman could be so kind, so calm, so reassuring to your face, but when your back was turned from her you were just another number on her chart of statistics.

Khatri knew how much he cared about the girl and it was always his weakness, "That should be long enough. It's unfortunate, what she did to herself. But it's too late now, we'll have to move on."

He wasn't going to beg Khatri to save her, "Listen, if she sustains any trauma to her head, it's unlikely we'll be able to save her again."

"She knows to be careful," Khatri was a woman who exuded confidence; however, these past few weeks had been difficult for her. "She's an obedient girl."

Somehow, Jensen doubted that, "It probably wouldn't take much to trigger her memory. You risk a lot by putting her back in this situation."

"Is there something you know that I don't?" Khatri's expression was quizzical at the same time angry. "If something happens to her, I will consider it your fault. Is that what you want?"

Maybe it's because he had been threatened too much or maybe it was because he had nothing left to live for, but either way, Khatri's words fell on his deaf ears.

"I didn't think so," she took his silence as a no.


Sumo and Hank had been zoning out together in front of the TV when Connor came into the room wearing a navy-blue tuxedo.

"Ha," Hank snorted as he adjusted his posture. "Well don't you look fancy."

Connor lifted up his arms to examine his own appearance, "To quote Kelly Mihn exactly, she said to, 'dress the part' which is what I intend."

"Yeah, I see it," Hank couldn't help but reveal a smirk; he never thought he'd see Connor dressed so well. "Now you'll be a real lady killer."

"No, I don't plan on killing any women," Connor wasn't expecting Hank's offhand comment.

Hank exhaled with a chuckle, "That's not what I meant, Connor. I'm just sayin' you'll get some attention looking like the way you do."

"Oh," Connor studied himself again assuming he must have missed something. "I don't understand."

Hank furrowed his brow, "Like, you know, women find well-dressed men attractive. So what I'm saying is you might get some attention because of it."

"That's not the point," there were times Connor could be so unintentionally thick. "I'm not going there to attract women. I'm going to speak with Jim Everett."

"Jesus, Connor," Hank lolled his head into the couch.

"I'm sorry, Hank," and he was but not sure why.

"You know..." Hank's tone became sullen and his posture sagged. "I bet Henri would've liked to see you in that."

Connor looked at himself once more, "You think so?"

Sumo sensed Hank's distress and let out a little whimper.

"Yeah, I do," Hank patted Sumo. "I guess… I guess-"

"Hank," there was pain in Connor's voice and there was pain in Hank's voice, and honestly Connor didn't want to talk about it.

"Eh, whatever," Hank shook off the feeling and waved Connor away. "Go do your thing. I'll be here when you get back. Just be careful, okay?"

"I promise," but the words felt empty just the same.


The Waterview Loft was located at the edge of the Port of Detroit giving way to a broad scope over the spanning, frozen river. The exterior of the venue was adorned with muted neon lights which reflected off of the river's solid surface. It was an aesthetically pleasing sight, or at least Connor thought it was.

He could hear the low rumblings of a steady bass progressing through the air of the venue. Connor opened the towering glass door for Kelly which adorned the building's entrance.

Maybe I was a little too wild in the

seventies

Rocket-ship grease down the cracks

of my knuckles

The place had been decorated in a faux-eighties theme and the music playing added to the atmosphere. The band present on the modest, yet open stage was dressed like lounge singers. It wasn't uncommon for modern acts to imitate this aspect, but this wasn't a modern band. Instead, it was a highly detailed projection of a live performance. Someone went to great lengths to find archived footage of the band and recreated it in a three-dimensional environment. It wasn't unheard of, but it was something Connor had never seen before.

"Don't… cause… trouble," Kelly spoke this in an uneven meter. "It sounds counter-intuitive, but I don't think either of us is looking to get killed tonight."

Connor was still distracted by the enchantingly artificial band, but he heeded her words, "You still haven't shared your plan with me."

"We find Jim, get him alone, and-" she dragged out the vowel sound. "-we have a friendly chat with him. Jim may be an asshole, but he's also a fucking pussy."

This, Connor found strangely shocking. It didn't seem like her, then again, how well did he know her after all? Her entire plan could be a trap for Connor; a trap to lure him into the arms of Khatri. If that was the case, he certainly wasn't going down without a word. Connor had been in dire situations before.

"Listen, no messing around," Kelly was scared and fully aware of how dangerous things could become. "Let's split up, and you let me know if you find him."

She was about to walk away before Connor stopped her, "Excuse me, Kelly. But I don't know what he looks like and there are no databases which contain information on a Dr. Jim Everett, at least none that I have access to."

"Old, balding guy with a grey beard," she seemed inpatient in her explanation to him. "Short, round, probably hitting on a woman young enough to be his daughter. The guy is fucking gross like that."

"Got it," but Connor didn't really get it. Could he imagine what someone looks like? He had a program which contained an algorithm that could generate randomized humanoid figures as well as accept specific inputs. But he knew humans didn't work like that; humans could remember faces, and they could imagine them, too. He also wasn't able to input the detail of, 'probably hitting on a woman young enough to be his daughter' into this program.

And as we gaze skyward, ain't it dark

early?

It's the star treatment

It's the star treatment

The star treatment


Back there by the baby grand

Did Mr. Winter Wonderland

Say "Come here kid, we really need to

talk'?

"Well don't you look different," Jim swept his eyes over her radical change; although, it wasn't too radical. She was still ultimately recognizable.

"Different than what?" she smiled, but malice lingered in her mouth. "Different than the last time I saw you? What time specifically are you referring to?"

He choked at his drink recalling it, "I guess you probably don't remember the last time you paid me a visit? Aren't accidents just blessing's in disguise?"

Accident? She knew it wasn't an accident, "I somehow doubt that."

"You sound bitter," he gingerly rested his palm on her naked shoulder. "Maybe you do need to see me again."

She regretted wearing the sleeveless top that night, "I'm afraid I won't be alive long enough for that to make a difference."

"Then why are you doing this?" Jim was surprised Khatri would tell the girl that one detail. "You have nothing to lose now."

"I had nothing to lose before," she turned her dark eyes on him. "All that matters now is that I accomplish my mission. No matter the cost; that's how it's always been."

"Wow," Jim felt sorry for the girl... Sorry? How spectacular. He couldn't remember the last time he felt sorry for a flea, let alone a human. "How much have you forgotten?"

"That isn't relevant," how much had she forgotten? How would she even know? Where would she begin? "I've remembered what's important."

"So why exactly are you here then?" even Jim found himself in the dark when it came to Khatri's plans despite their closeness.

She thought the answer was obvious, "To keep an eye on you, Dr. Everett, what else?"

Singsong 'round the money tree

This stunning documentary

That no one else unfortunately saw

"Oh you know I can handle myself," he leered in return. "But I won't say no to you. Who ever could?'

Disgusting.

"What is she really worried about?" he rested his empty martini glass on the bar-top that stood adjacent to the small stage. "We know who's after her, so why don't we just kill him?"

"You're too simple," she slid up to the bar and gave the bartender a short grin. "She said he needs to complete his investigation."

"Right, right," Jim bellowed. "And you don't think you're better suited for that task?"

Why would he make that kind of implication, "I'm not a detective. That's not my job."

"Yes, that's right," he winked at her. "Espionage and assassination is your specialty. And here you are playing babysitter."

She narrowed his eyes at him, "I think you misunderstand. My job is to make sure you don't talk to him. If killing you is my only option, then I won't hesitate."

"What?" he didn't think she was serious. "She would rather have me killed-"

"Than be found?" she interjected. "Of course. So don't put yourself in a situation where he will talk to you."

So when you gaze at planet earth

From outer space

Does it wipe that stupid look off of

your face?

"I would advise the same thing," Jim snapped in response.

His statement confused her, "I've already been told to stay away from him."

"But did you ask why?" he knew she hadn't.

"No." and she wasn't interested. "I wasn't concerned about it."

"Maybe you should be," it didn't happen often, but Jim was starting to have a change of heart. Maybe it was because of the recent threat Khatri placed on his life or maybe he finally felt sorry for the poor girl. He hadn't met anyone who had suffered for so long and so often. But more likely than not, his change of heart was because he knew Khatri was a cunt, and he wasn't going to take her threats lightly.

The overwhelmed bartender rushed to the young woman at Jim's side and handed over another cocktail wordlessly.

"I'll let you get back to your party," she nodded at him while walking away with a drink in hand.

And all of my most muscular regrets

Explode behind my eyes like American

sports


Jesus in the day spa

Filling out the information form

Kelly figured it wouldn't take much work to find Jim, but when she did spot him, to say the least, she wasn't delighted by what she saw. The girl, the girl… What could she have been doing there? That woman was the harbinger of death wherever she went. This wasn't a good sign.

The young woman left Jim's side and Kelly was determined to have a word with her, "Hey," she called out as best as she could through the blaring sounds of the large room.

The woman had her glass placed up to her lips when she twisted around.

"What are you doing here?" Kelly questioned with wide eyes.

"I'm not sure if that's your business," she smirked behind her glass, but the gesture was hollow. "But I'm here to keep an eye on the doctor."

Kelly couldn't panic; this wasn't the time to start panicking, "An eye on him? For what purpose?"

"I was told an android might come asking unwanted questions," she lowered her drink and rested her elbow in her free hand. "I'm here to make sure he doesn't get any answers."

"Oh my god," Kelly almost couldn't believe Khatri had put them all in this situation. What was that crazy woman thinking? Was she so desperate to save herself that this was her last resort? "Do you even know who this android is?"

"Yes," the woman was taken aback. "His name is Connor. He's a detective for the Detroit Police. What does it matter?"

"So, you really don't remember him?"

"Why would I remember him?" she frowned at Kelly. "I don't understand your question."

Do you celebrate your dark side

Then wish you'd never left the house?

Kelly wasn't sure what exactly she was expecting. The first report that she had read about the situation had determined that the girl was brain dead, yet they still managed to resuscitate her. She was placed into field duty within five days which was an alarmingly short amount of time to Kelly. What real damage that had been done was undetermined, but it was clear her memory had been severely affected. If she couldn't remember Connor, what else had she forgotten? And now she was a problem; she was a barrier between them and Khatri. A brick wall that could easily crush them all.

"If you don't mind," she scowled once more. "I have a job to do, so I would appreciate if you stopped your interruptions."

Kelly needed to find Connor… They were in trouble now.


Last night when my psyche's

subcommittee

Sang to me in its scary voice

Connor scanned every face in that room. He surmised it would be the easiest way to determine Dr. Everett's identity; however, that was assuming the doctor wasn't using a false identity or alias.

"Hello there," a ravishing woman in a long lavender dress with autumn hair and emerald eyes spoke to Connor.

"Hi," he was unable to fathom the reason she decided to speak to him. "Can I help you?"

"I was hoping so," she was a brash one. "I know who you are. You're that famous android detective. Helped start the android revolution and paved the way for the new free world for your own kind. That's a rather impressive resume."

Connor tilted his head and lifted a brow at her, "If you'll excuse me, I'm actually looking for someone."

"Really?" she questioned him with a grin on her face in a low voice. "You're just going to walk away from me? Why don't you buy me a drink? You know, most men would be excited by that prospect."

"I'm an android," Connor replied bluntly.

"I know that," her red lips curled up. "I also know that androids have emotions. Wasn't that part of the point of your freedom?"

When he scanned her he discovered her name was Ada Goodwin, a famous performance artist. Connor was more or less culturally ignorant or rather, he chose to be. He could find out whatever he wanted about whoever he wanted, but he spent little time doing such. He enjoys music or so he believes he does, and he enjoys watching Hank watch sports, he thinks, but the rest of his time was dedicated to detective work.

"You must not be familiar with me," Ada refused to bare his silence. "So, how about you buy me a drink, so we can get to know each other."

So in response to what you whispered

in my ear

I'll be upfront, sometimes I fantasize

about you too

This time, Connor didn't hear a word she said. Well, as in, he did hear everything, but he completely ignored it. Instead, at this very moment when this woman was trying to convince him to do something he didn't want to, he saw something. He saw someone, and he instantly recognized who it was.

The woman he was gazing at leaned next to the bar by her lonesome. Her wavy blonde hair only reached her shoulders and her eyes were blue, not grey. She wore a white, floor-length, crimped skirt with a black cut off top that contrasted her pale face. She certainly didn't look the same, but he had no doubt she was the same person he once knew. The person he knew not that long ago. It was the person Connor and Hank had seen commit suicide seven days ago.

When Connor approached her he wasn't sure what to expect. She glanced in his direction but refused to bat an eye at him. Did she not notice him? How could she not notice him? Was she ignoring him? When he scanned her, he was informed that her name was Elita Watson and that she was the CFO for Initech Industrial. Nonetheless, Connor wasn't fooled by the pseudonym.

I missed a bridge and tunnel on the

starlight express

The head of special effects in my

mind's eye

"Henrietta?" his mouth draped open as he gaped at her.

The young woman's eyes danced around as she wondered if it was, in fact, her he was referring to, "Pardon?"

"Henri..."Connor repeated her name quietly.

"I think you've mistaken me for someone else," how on Earth did he know what her real name was. "My name is Elita Watson, actually."

"I uh-" he knew he was right, but she acted like they'd never met before. "-I guess I thought you were somebody I used to know."

Now she was curious… Both Jim and Kelly told her to stay away from Connor; was this why? Did he know more about her than she originally conjectured?

"What made you think I was this… Henrietta, you speak of?"

Was there a chance this woman in front of him, who appeared so similar in cadence and demeanour, was not Henri? It wasn't impossible, but it was absolutely improbable.

He realized he'd left the conversation hanging, "You just look almost identical to her. Your hair, eyes, and complexion aren't the same as hers."

"Was this somebody you liked?" she figured that if he did know something about her, something he shouldn't know, she might be able to deduce where he got his information from. And in any case, this was the opportune moment to distract Connor from ever getting a moment alone with Dr. Everett.

Take it easy for a little while

Come and stay with us

It's such an easy flight

"Very much," and he remembered how real she felt then and how real she seemed now. For the past week, she had been a phantom in his mind; a ghost to forever haunt him, but now… But now, here she was in flesh and bone once more.

She paused for a second to bestow him a gentle smile, "And what happened to her?"

"She died," Connor's eyes and head lowered.

She had died before, but could she remember how she had passed? Yes, she did. She shot herself… Killed herself. How was it ever that they saved her? How limited was her time left now that she was reborn?

"Oh," she averted her face from him and took a sip from her drink. "That's unfortunate, I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sorry that I remind you of her."

"I'm not," he brought his eyes up to meet hers.

Suddenly he became so familiar. Something so deep and so embedded inside her mind recognized him. She was aware of who he was and what he did, but there was something more than that in the back of her mind. Before, when Dr. Polanski had shown her the picture of Connor, she didn't recognize him at all. For the few days that followed, she was asked many questions about events that supposedly took place in her past, but she couldn't remember all of it. Had she known Connor before she shot herself? Were they trying to keep her away from him? And if so, why?

"Do you want to dance with me?" she looked over at the band then to Connor.

"Dance?" he lifted his brows. "I've never danced before."

The exotic sound of data storage

Nothing like it

First thing in the morning

"But I bet you can, right?" she curled the edges of her soft, pink lips up. "I bet you'd be pretty good, too."

"I would say the same about you," he was an android, so he could learn to dance in an instant, and he suspected she could accomplish the task in the same manner.

She led him out in front of the stage where it was already crowded with people. She pulled him close to her and rested her light hands on his tall shoulders.

If she was Henri, just as Connor had inferred, then he would be able to transfer his memories or feelings to her. Now as he was so close to her, he decided it was worth the try. He had to know if the woman in front of him was Henrietta.

Connor put forward a simple memory: the one of when they first met at the Detroit Police Station.

Her head bolted upward as she frowned at him, "What are you doing?" she gave him a short nudge and took a single step away from him.

It worked. She saw it and he knew that she had seen it.

The two of them stood three feet apart as she scowled at Connor in a confused expression. She didn't say another word to him before leaving that party. She didn't care about Jim, and she certainly didn't care if he talked to Connor. What she did care about was having a word or two with Khatri.

The world's first ever monster truck

front flip

I'm just a bad girl trying to be good

I've got a laser guiding my love that I

cannot adjust