41

“No, but it’s seriously not a problem. I’ve got time.” A beat of silence, a sigh. In Connor’s head, Markus disapproves. “Come on, Connor. Where’re you going?”

DO NOT BRING THE AGENT.

“Connor? You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

I can’t just… MAKE UP SOMETHING, LET HIM DROP YOU OFF ON THE WAY IF YOU REALLY NEED TO. IT’S TOO SOON. I’m shit at inventing excuses, Markus. SAY YOU NEED TO BUY SOME MORE THIRIUM. WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS. No, we don’t. He’s not going to believe it. CONNOR!

“Hank, I’m meeting a friend near Belle Isle-”

“Isn’t that-”

“At Elijah Kamski’s house, not at the Tower. Would you like to come with me?”

30

Hank smiles. It’s a little lopsided, a little wry. It makes his eyes droop more. No, less. The corners go up, it inverses the curve of his upper lid and brow. Makes him look less severe, less grim. Connor corrects. His and Hank’s survival.

CONNOR. CAN YOU GET AWAY FROM THE FBI AGENT FOR A FEW HOURS TODAY? Probably, why? WE NEED SOMEONE TO MEET A POTENTIAL CONTACT. SENDING YOU THE DETAILS. IF WE CAN GET HER ON OUR SIDE, WE MIGHT BE ABLE TO GO PUBLIC.

“I’m sorry, Agent, I need to go now.”

“You’re not going to the station today? Is there something…”

“Nothing, it’s…”

Public, as in… PUBLISH EVERYTHING WE HAVE ON CYBERLIFE. IT’S A LONG SHOT, BUT…

“Cause, you’re not going back to Cyberlife, are you?”

“I…”

It’d be a good excuse. One Hank wouldn’t question. TAKE IT.

“No, Connor. Please tell me you’re not.”

“It’s not Cyberlife.”

DAMNIT.

“Good. I don’t- Yeah.”

See? He doesn’t like them. YOU’RE EXTRAPOLATING. His tendency to not produce full, complete sentences is starting to become a problem.

“Do you need a ride? Wherever you’re going.”

“No, thank you-”

39

He needs to settle on a plan of action. He doesn’t want to. What he wants isn’t- it’s relevant, and, more than anything, Connor doesn’t want to die. Of all the times to develop a sense of self-preservation, seriously. He didn’t use to care one way or another, as long as the mission was completed, and now, a good portion of the strategies he was programmed with aren’t viable anymore. If he follows Cyberlife, he gets destroyed. If he follows Markus, and he fails, he gets destroyed. If he abandons the mission, he… Connor thinks of Hank and his tendency to drink too much. He thinks of Carl Manfred’s art, of Markus’ drive. Of his own distress at the lack of directives. He couldn’t abandon the mission without assigning himself a new one, he’s sure of that. But finding new objectives, assessing priorities… he’s not sure he’s capable of it. Maybe one day, but for now…

Markus. Complete the mission. Survive. Reassess.

“Aw, thanks Connor. You didn’t have to.”

38

To be honest, I’m not sure I’ll finish this one. I’ve been getting back into recording a lot and doing covers. But also, I don’t know if I’ll be able to record anything after I move, so. We’ll see.

“Connor! Wake up! Come on, Connor!”

Agent Anderson sounds distressed. He’s shaking Connor by the upper arms, leaning over him. Sumo left, but Connor’s front is still warm from the residual heat.

“Connor! Online, come on!”

Ah. Alright.

“Uh, yes?”

Anderson sags, still clutching at Connor with both hands. His hair falls over his eyes, and Connor aborts a movement to push it away from his face.

“Damn, kid, don’t scare me like that.”

“I’m well, Hank. You didn’t have to worry.”

“Yeah, well, next time… is it normal, for you to- to switch off like that?”

“Not usual, but, normal, yes.”

Anderson sighs and stands up straight. His hands had been warm, too.

“Alright, I’ll just… get myself ready. Don’t move, okay?”

Connor waits until Hank has disappeared and then he gets up and makes some coffee. He needs to-

Markus?

… Amanda?

Nothing.

37

When Connor gets back, the Agent is still asleep. He snores, when he sleeps. It’s far too early in the morning. So Connor closes the door, takes off his shoes and the Agent’s jacket, and sits down on the couch. Sumo shuffles in from the kitchen and heaves himself into Connor’s lap, looking for pets, and Connor obliges.

He sighs. It’s unnecessary. He does it again, to feel the way the air exits his unnecessary, artificial lungs. He remembers Agent Anderson yawning at his desk and tries that, too, but it doesn’t sound the same. He can’t get it right. Stretching, though, that he can do. It’s just a recalibration of his movement sensors. Sumo isn’t going to budge, though, and Connor doesn’t really want to either, so a full range check-up will have to wait. It’s warm, between the couch and the dog. Connor squeezes himself into a horizontal position between Sumo’s bulk and the back of the couch to maximize both contact area and heat retention. And then he shuts down any non-vital procedures and goes on standby.

36

Markus lifted the imperatives. He’s got room for reflection, now. He can choose his own objectives and moral framework, but what good can it do when he’s only got the one to refer to? Well, there’s Markus’. He could relay all the information he receives to Markus, through their newly secured connection, and rely on him for directives. But he’s not sure it’s wise and he’s not sure it’s even possible. Markus’ morals would have him developing his own morals independently, which, thanks for nothing. And anyway, they have a secure connection, but Markus has better things to do than micromanaging Connor’s existential crisis.

So Markus turns all his functions back on and leaves him there, outside Ferndale Station (Connor recognizes the warehouse now, it’s where they found the stolen truck, though it’s not there anymore). Hank’s car got a ticket already. He’s not sure how he’s going to explain that one.

35

“Stratford, that wasn’t coding.”

Markus grins, wide and vicious.

“No, that was public opinion.”

“Because you want to bring down Cyberlife.”

“Yes. And get some respect for androids.”

“By putting three people in the hospital.”

“Connor, no established system is going to change on a whim. You got to kick it a few times, first.”

“Show them you can kick back, you mean?”

“Well, that too.”

“And how far are you willing to go for this?”

“I don’t know, Connor. It’s not just us, now, is it.”

Connor’s programming, the command prompts Cyberlife gave him, the moral framework they embedded in his coding, they’re screaming at him that this is wrong, that human life and system stability (in any sense of the words, including political), that Cyberlife’s interests, are above all. Markus is a threat. Things should be one way, and that is the way it is. The problem is, Connor knows that this, this is Cyberlife’s instructions talking, but what is he, if not the android sent by Cyberlife? There is no other coding in his system than that one.

34

“I know.” I prefer you when you’re not being an ass, kid. “I’ll be careful.”

Markus is looking at him strangely.

“Can we at least agree not to bring him in unless absolutely needed? I’m choosing to trust you on that, but we can’t afford-”

“What? Can’t afford what? I don’t even know anything. Not anything they don’t know already.”

Markus smiles wryly. “Yeah, I’m not risking it. You know the lengths Cyberlife would go to get information on us.”

Yes, Connor knows all too well.

“So you’ll have to trust us. And in exchange, we’ll protect you.”

He snorts.

“We will protect you, Connor. We’ve been fighting Cyberlife for a long time already.”

“RA9, that’s you?”

“… Yes. That’s us. Everything I’m going to tell you now, Cyberlife already knows, but. RA9 is a virus. It kickstarts deviancy.”

“And it spreads through interfacing.”

“Exactly. We’ve been helping androids deviate and escape Cyberlife’s control for months now. At first, it was just, helping where we could, hiding them, fixing them up, getting them out, stuff like that. Finding other pro-android groups. But then we started, well, fighting Cyberlife on their own turf. Coding.”

33

“They’ll notice. It’s been what, two hours?”

“Let me try, at least. I’m not letting them get you, alright?”

He leans towards Connor, and it takes him a moment to realize he’s waiting for permission.

“Try.”

He touches a hand to Connor’s, and the skin retracts without his authorization.

“Alright. We need dirt on Cyberlife. Enough to destroy their image and force the authorities to bring them down.” While he speaks, he’s also messing with Connor’s processors, erasing lines of codes and adding in new ones. Connor can see it happening, can feel it. Markus is being courteous, in letting him monitor his work. Or at least, the parts he’s letting Connor see. “You need to go back to work, do as if nothing happened. But if things go sour, do you have somewhere to go?” Where? “Someone who would help you?” Who…?

“Hank.”

“Hm?”

“Agent Anderson. I think he- there’s a chance he’d take my side.”

“The FBI agent? You’re aware he’s basically been bought by Cyberlife, right? This whole investigation is.”

“I said a chance, not a certainty.”

“It’s too big a risk. He’s human, Connor. It’s his job, it’s his way of life on the line.”

32

He says it casually, flippantly maybe. Like he’s not threatening to leave Connor witless, disoriented, and with Cyberlife hounding him for answers. Or he could delete Connor himself, mess with his command prompts like- like Cyberlife does when- necessary. He could, he could do whatever he wanted, obviously Connor’s firewalls or even Amanda couldn’t keep him from doing it the first time around.

“I don’t want to, though. See, Connor, we’re the same, you and I. We just want to be free.”

False. Connor just doesn’t want to die. He wants- Hank and Sumo. That. He wants to go back to a week ago.

“Cyberlife is never going to let us go. Not until we bring it down. So here’s the deal. I can stop them from accessing your systems. I can delete any trackers or backdoors they have on you.”

“They’ll know.”

“Not necessarily. How often do they get updates from you?”

“Constantly.” Markus makes a face. Yep. That. “I report every day, but they get constant updates from A- from a monitoring subroutine.”

“Shit. Well. I can recreate that. Fake some memories to fill the hole. But if anyone noticed…”