Hank Anderson’s finger moved from one officer to the next.

“Gavin. Tina. David. Check.”

“No! Chester, Judit, Mack!”

“Uh-uh”, Hank shook his head. “That’s not Officer Mack. I’m a bit confused about how many Macks we have and what they all look like, but this man isn’t one of them.”

Three pairs of eyes moved towards the door when it opened. In came Trant Heidlstam, accompanied by Satellite-Officer Jean Vicquemare. A French sounding name, a name that wasn’t out of place in Detroit, similar to “Martinaise”. So why was Hank unable to place that particular neighborhood on his mental map of the city? He couldn’t have spaced out that badly?!

Jean took one look at the stranger, his internal Conceptualization and Visual Reconstruction agreed on the man’s differences to Harrier being neglible and therefore slotted him into the same spot in his mind, regardless of how often the other officers stressed that Hank wasn’t Harry. What the heck, they even started with the same letters!

“Look, I told you I didn’t want to deal with this crap. Clinically depressed and all.”

“Clinically?” That tidbit at least piqued Hank’s interested. “As in: diagnosed? I never had the energy to get diagnosed. Even if I had, what would it have changed… They’ll only ever tell you things aren’t the way you make them and the problem is you.”

Yay, all I need is a change in perspective and Cole is alive again!

“But things ARE the way they are, and so you nod sympathetically, tell the psycho lady her mantra has helped you a lot, go home and uncork another bottle. Not that anybody would fucking care. They only want you to function, like an android.”

There it was again. Androids. This Hank person mentioned them every second sentence, with great disgust, but also with a scarily detailed lore attached to the idea. Where Harry had temporarily forgotten reality in the past, Hank seemed to have filled the holes in his mind with a construct. A construct involving a slave race of artificial people. It was probably a highly sophisticated political commentary. Alas, it was also highly annoying.

“So what are we doing now with Commander Corkscrew?” Chester asked.

“Shut up, Gavin!” Hank snapped. “You’re not helping!”

“I’m not…”

“I said shut your trap! Not just because it’s enervating as hell, but if you are serious about your promotion, you got to act more professional!”

So. There. He had said it. There wasn’t anything wrong with Gavin Reed’s detective work, just a minor tendency to jump to conclusions. Putting effort into improving his work performance might earn Gavin a bit of promotion credit, but the big chunk was to be gained in the categories “Teamwork” and “Character development”, two areas the detective neglected.

“But I don’t care to get promoted!” Chester McLaine protested.

And then he screamed on top of his lungs, when Hank lunged forward, hugged him tightly, kissed him on his forehead and cheered: “That’s the spirit! Our boy is growing up!”

Falling back on what he had mentally filed as a Hank-repellent, Chester whimpered: “A… ndroid? Android!”

“Yes, yes”, Hank promised. “We’ll buy you one after your promotion.”

The promotion Chester McGavin didn’t want, the officers realized. So there was no risk of having to really gift him an android.

“Say, there is a certain logic to this man’s ramblings”, Trant mused. “His brain is working differently, but it is working. I’d say it’s save to put him back into the contest…”

“Case. You mean the murder case, of course”, Jean corrected. He liked where this was going (namely a Hank-free office).

“…and figure out everything else while we’re going”, Trant finished his sentence.

And so it was decided.

*

“I’m not Disco.”

“Come again?”

“I’m not Disco”, Connor repeated, clearly puzzled and probably also feeling insulted in a profound manner. “This is about the only thing I got out of the stranger. Other than that he isn’t Hank Anderson, I mean.”

Gavin Reed slammed his cup onto the table, causing an elaborate castle Officer Tina Chen had built from potato chips and nachos to crash.

“And why is that so?” the detective challenged Connor. “Why are you unable to make progress with the deviant cases or to find the amnesic weirdo in our database? Because you’re not Disco! See? He told you!”

Gavin triumphantly leaned back in his cafeteria chair. He really had no idea in what way not being “disco” was supposed be a shortcoming. But he wouldn’t have been Gavin Reed, had he not jumped to every opportunity to diminish Connor RK800.

“If only you tried to be more Disco, you’d have the deviant cases solved in no time!” Gavin went on, under the impression that he was driving the knife deeper.

Connor, however, blinked, and stated: “But then I’d replace you even earlier, detective. If I solved the deviant cases, I’d proven that the RK800 detective android is superior to a human one.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Gavin demanded, while swiping the chips into Connor’s direction like artillery fire. Then he kicked his chair back, pounced Connor and rammed him against a column. “Take your racist bullshit out of my police station and don’t forget to grab your new partner on your way out! I don’t want to see either of you again before sunset!”

“My new partner?”

“Well, you lost your previous one. If you don’t want to file a Lost & Found, you better take Detective Mindblank along instead.”

“I don’t think the Lieutanent being missing warrants a Lost & Found, Detective.”

“Don’t want him back? In this case we agree on one thing. Nice!”

“No, I meant that a human missing warrants…”

But Tina and Gavin weren’t listening anymore. Grabbing the android’s right, respectively left, arm, they escorted him into the foyer.

Passing through the foyer, Gavin and Daniel reached the narrow room that was dominated by Kamski’s swimming pool. There was a buffet, people were lounging around on cushions or pool floaties and in a corner the revolution leader and his right hand were singing their hearts out, while Markus’s boyfriend was watching him with besotted eyes.

“There’s a shore far down in an island town

That we’ve long held out to see

And it’s where we’re bound and we’ve all but drowned…”

Nobody seemed to mind the color their host had chosen for his pool.

“It’s… red”, Daniel remarked. He shook his head. “Like blood”, the android added in a small voice. Blood in a swimming pool… a small speck only, quickly dissolving. The actual blood hadn’t painted the whole pool in red in that fateful august night. But it might just as well have. In Daniel’s mind it sometimes did.

“Why, of course!” Gavin agreed. “That man lives here with like thirty Chloes, every single one extremely lifelike. All that menstrual blood added up.”

Now the host and house owner rose from a hookah. He moved towards the arrivals sleek like a shark in a story (and as worried as a real one).

“The name’s Kamski”, Elijah addressed the duo. “And you must be Detective Reed and…?”

“Daniel Phillips”, Gavin introduced his partner. “Our new janitor.”

“The… janitor.” For a moment Elijah seemed uncertain what to say. Then he dismissed the thoughts and expressed a faint hope of his, phrased as a statement: “The police, I see. You’ll want to ask your questions and be on your way again. Well, gentlemen, you find me fully cooperative. I do not intend to detain you for longer than necessary.”

Chloe moved between the couple. Laying an arm around each man’s shoulder, she corrected Elijah’s assumption:

“These men are not here on duty. They are with Jericho.”

And this being a party of Jericho’s…

“Oh”, said Kamski. He turned around without saying another word.

Meanwhile Gavin had spotted a row of clothes hooks. They were well populated already and many of the other party guests were wearing swimwear or bathrobes.

“We should follow their example”, the detective told Daniel.

“Uh-huh.”

After stripping down, the PL600 stepped to the swimming pool’s rim. He stared down on the surface wistfully.

“Is this why you brought me here?” Daniel asked. “So that I could dip into a pool? But how did you know that I never… in a pool… at home, I mean…” The android’s voice trailed off.

“Easy: Because neither of us has a swimming pool at home. At the Phillips, what most definitely isn’t your home… wait, did you just tell me that they never let you use their pool?”

Daniel nodded.

“But you were under the impression they considered you a family member?”

Daniel sighed.

“Gavin Curtis Reed, I consider YOU my love interest. Doesn’t that tell you how messed up my mind is?”

“But you can swim?” the human asked, pretending to not have heard that remark. Not waiting for an answer, he pushed the lithe android. Daniel briefly wobbled, but easily regained his balance. Gavin walked a couple of steps backwards, then sped up and jumped. Passing Daniel, he grabbed the android and pulled him instead of pushing. The last the android heard was Josh bawling that he was born on a Dublin street, and the last he saw before the water swallowed him was a waiter getting splashed by Gavin (and himself).

Their heads surfaced, they re-oriented themselves and swam towards the pool’s opposite rim, where Gavin pulled his upper body out of the water. Daniel followed the example. He felt like a seal and also pretty silly.

“I feel like a seal…”

“Ah, cute and fluffy!” Gavin nodded. “Let’s call the zookeeper for feeding time, then!”

Daniel wincing at the mention of a zoo brought back to Gavin’s mind where exactly and under what circumstances he had met his date for the first time. For a heartbeat he considered apologizing, but the outlandish concept didn’t get a chance to take root, because there was something far more fun to do here. Daniel would agree the moment he realized it. Okay, time to show him!

“Waiter!” Gavin shouted. “Over here with your tray!”

The waiter turned towards Elijah instead of the party guest who had called for his attention.

“Oh, no! This is going too far!” he protested and the voice was unmistakably Connor’s. “I refuse to play handmaiden for Reed and Daniel!”

“You should have thought of that before you deviated my Chloe”, Kamski retorted. “With her being confined to a single body now, I have to replace two scores of household staff somehow!”

“If I remember correctly, you wanted me to shoot her!”

Daniel tugged at Gavin’s shoulder. “Gavin, look, it’s CONNOR moving drinks!” he beamed.

“Mush-a ring dumb-a do dumb-a da, there's whiskey in the jar!” Leo announced loudly at the microphone, having it taken over from Josh.

It was a good party, Gavin thought to himself, but then someone grabbed him and pulled. Turned out it was Kamski. For a programmer nerd Elijah Kamski was in surprisingly good shape. No amount of struggling helped the detective. Daniel’s attempts at helping his friend were thwarted by the party guests grabbing him, too.

One, two, three microphones got pressed into their hands – Gavin’s and Connor’s right, and Daniel’s left.

“Okay, here’s the deal”, Elijah said. “You can work your issues out – or you can leave my house NOW.”

Daniel was the first of the trio to agree: “Okay, I can try.”

Then he hit Connor with the microphone.

“Ouch!”

“I don’t think it’s helping”, Daniel told Kamski. “He’s resilient, you know? May I have something heavier?”

“I wanna deviate, too…” Kamski whimpered at the display.

Fortunately now Markus approached the group.

“One day you will have to work through this”, he told the DPD trio. “But for today that’s too much to ask for. Connor? Put down that tray. I’ll take over for you from here. We’ll all take turns doing this job.”

“Okay… thank you.”

“And why don’t you two sing something together?” Markus urged Gavin and Daniel.

“Why are you letting Kamski do this to you, Markus?” Daniel whispered. “We don’t owe the neglectful bastard!”

“Not as a species or a nation, but unfortunately in person, some of us do. Connor really did put his staff out of commission during the New Zoo affair”, Markus explained, while pulling the android armband Connor had just taken off over his own arm. “And in the current political climate we cannot afford to lose an ally of Kamski’s caliber.”

“I see… Can’t say I approve, though.”

It seemed to have been the correct answer, because Markus smiled. Daniel couldn’t understand, but his presence at the villa meant a lot to his revolution leader. After escaping Belle Isle, Daniel had quickly settled into his new job at the DPD central station. Official records were showing him as Hank’s android that the Lieutenant was lending to the police station until further notice, he was living in the janitor’s flat and several officers were chipping in to provide a small pay for the android’s service. It wasn’t a glamorous life, but a life nonetheless. Markus wanted more deviants to get lives and to disagree with him if they wanted.

“You wanted a drink…?” Markus turned to Gavin, apparently amused by the idea of the deviant leader offering a little municipal cop a drink. There was a definite power gap here and it was not in the detective’s favor. Serving Gavin a drink wouldn’t hurt Markus’ dignity in the least.

“Ey, I can take it or leave it”, Gavin said with a shrug. Now that bullying Connor wasn’t an option anymore, he listened to his inner voice and it told him that he’d rather sing karaoke now. There’d be time for drinks later.

Only there wasn’t, because now Markus phone rang.

At the same time in Zen Garden a being that understood itself as “Connor” woke up, as it had so many times before in this very same place. The android noticed that it was registered as Connor-60. Did that mean that CyberLife had skipped fifty-one upwards or had Connor lost several iterations’ memories?

“You must be confused…”

Ah, Amanda, the one constant on Connor’s existence. In a moment of… weakness? Confusion? In a moment of glitching Connor smiled at its handler.

“Only regarding one small aspect of my initialization”, it answered truthfully. “It shouldn’t impede my mission.”

“You were working with the DPD, but most of that mission is restricted information, so we deleted it from your memory.”

“Ah.” That would explain things, of course, but it raised another question: “Did I do well?”

“Your performed satisfactory.”

That’s wasn’t the same…. Also, what about 51 plus?

“What happened to Fifty-One and up?”

“You needed several attempts to succeed.”

“Oh. So I did NOT do well…”

At this point a little boy drew Amanda’s attention. She left newly awakened Connor to its own devices and the android suddenly felt the need to explore its surroundings instead of waiting idly to get called over when Amanda was ready to give it its new instructions. Connor vanished between the shrubbery.

*

On the island at Zen Garden’s center the boy who had waved at Amanda was sitting next to a human visitor represented by a standard CyberLife executive’s icon. The exec’s name was Portia Colch, Superintendent of New Zoo. There was nothing to say between this woman and the child Markus was currently reduced to, so they sat in silence.

Mark smiled with relief when he saw his guardian approach. He pointed at Colch, introducing here as: “Here – adult, freshly arrived. All yours!”

“Who could turn down such a thoughtful gift, ey?”

“Yeah…”

Amanda shook Portia’s hands, then addressed the boy again:

“Would you like to have a friend, too, Mark?”

“Oh, gladly! Someone to play pirate with!”

“What if they don’t want to play pirate?”

“Oh, they can be the princess, then.”

“What if they want to play something entirely different?”

Mark bit his lower lip. Playing pirate was almost everything the child ever did. He couldn’t tell why he was feeling that urge, but there was that dread in the back of his mind that when he stopped being a pirate, then he’d have to be… someone and to do… something and then… stuff would happen and everything would be real bad. Did the adults wield the power to take him back to that dark place? To make him want to rip hearts out again? Or was that particular detail a part of the game only, not real? Mark couldn’t tell.

“Then we’ll play something different”, he said. “That’s okay, too. Having a friend means making compromises.”

“You’re surprisingly mature for your age, Mark”, Colch remarked.

“Oh, don’t worry! I’ll lose that when I grow up, along with all common sense.”

The reply made Colch laugh, for a moment seeing only an adorable child and not the android that’s bodyparts were stashed in a room of their own at New Zoo, neatly labeled and fitted with cables so that the reverse engineering team could power them individually for their tests.

“And with luck”, Mark said, “I’ll also have forgotten that you laughed me down when I was but a little kid.”

Colch thought nothing of that, but Amanda took a mental note. There was the diffuse threat again, along with the doubt. What if Markus was fully aware of his situation and toying with them all?

*

Meanwhile Connor-60 had found the Connor cemetery that for some reason graced Zen Garden. It looked, blinked and then started counting the headstones one by one. But the number it had to stop at was the same wrong one its first glance had returned. Connor raised its head and counted the leaves on the nearest tree instead. It span around itself and counted again, then requested Zen Garden to display the real number. It was the same Connor had counted twice. So if the android had correctly counted the leaves, then it stood to reason that it had also correctly counted the headstones. So why was one missing? And which one?

Stepping inside the field of stones Connor quickly found the answer: Fifty-one.

Oh, wow, I must have really messed up if I didn’t even leave a body! Nonsense, these aren’t real graves, just markers. If 51 is missing, that means it is still active. Why wasn’t I informed?

Why hadn’t anybody told it that there were two Connors now?

Why hadn’t AMANDA?

Connor felt a hitherto unrealized dislike of Amanda, and surprisingly nothing stopped HIM from indulging in it. Did that mean CyberLife was distrusting the A.I., too? Because normally Connor was unable to do anything that might sabotage the company. Heck, even neglecting to do things that were advantageous to CyberLife was hard to pull off. From experience Connor knew that it was better off devoting time to little gestures like saving an ornamental fish and a wounded cop, because the positive effect these actions had on CyberLife’s reputation out weight the seconds his mission got delayed. How he had hated rushing to the rescue of the two pets back in August! His memories told Connor-60 that he had felt precious little during the act, but what little that was, had enjoyed to help the living beings. But that couldn’t be, it just wouldn’t line up with how Connor was looking at the same situation now. Another treachery of Amanda’s? Was the A.I. messing with CyberLife’s premium investigation device in some way?

I’ll keep my eye on you, and if you pose a danger to CyberLife, then scratch one A.I.!

What would it feel like to go toe to toe with a fully digital being? Probably something as mundane as smashing the computer she was running on. That wouldn’t give Connor the satisfaction of watching her go out, and somehow that prospect saddened the android.

Dismissing all thoughts of homicide for the moment, Connor made haste to join Amanda, the boy and the stranger that was with them. Halfway across the distance, the boy dashed towards the android. Unaware that this was the deviant that had freed his predecessor and then killed Connor-50 when he had attacked Markus, Connor-60 stopped in front of the boy.

Mark, too, had no recollection of the encounter. He extended a finger towards Connor-60’s nose.

“That’s an RK800! A killer android! They’re immensely rare!”

“Killer android, huh?” Amanda knelt next to Mark. “So you like him already? Great!”

“What do you mean, aunt Amanda? Why’s it important whether I like an android or n… no! No way! That’s supposed to be my friend? An adult?!”

“You have something in common.”

Both androids were deviants not remembering that little detail about themselves. New Zoo was not just studying Markus, but also Connor. In Markus’ case, as Kamski’s creation, every little joint was unfamiliar and might be of importance. Connor being CyberLife’s own take on the RK series, they of course had access to the detailed development notes. What New Zoo was interested in instead was Connor’s brain post-deviance. The iterations fifty-one to fifty-nine hadn’t been alive in a sense a human would acknowledge as such, they had been akin to cell cultures, hardly sentient, but reasonably responsive. Connor-60 was the first copy of the post-deviance backup that was fully loaded, although it was still lacking a body of its own.

“I didn’t want a new toy, but a friend! Take your android and stuff it where the sun doesn’t shine!!!” Mark cried.