“There is no signature. Is it one of Carl’s rejects?” Connor made a guess.
“I painted it shortly before deviating,” Markus answered. “Carl asked me to paint something that doesn’t exist.”
“And you chose to paint yourself? ” Connor blinked, blue LED spinning in interest. “I like it,” he decided. “For a self-portrait, that makes it very selfless.”
Markus tilted his head just a bit and his neutral mask cracked into something more curious. “I don’t think Carl intended for that kind of interpretation. He just wanted me to paint something that had never been painted before, but…”
“There’s something defiant about it,” Connor looked back at the painting. “It’s the shades of red. Hot, brutal, the color of blood, contrasting with the shirt—blue, not a thirium 310 shade of blue. More like this shade of blue,” he pointed at his LED. “Your eyes stare at us. It’s frontal, conflictual—a confrontation. You are an android, but the background covers a large part of the canvas, echoes the shades of your skin tone, and weighs onto your shoulders.”
“I didn’t know there was an art critique module in your program,” Markus teased.
“It’s not an art critique,” Connor denied. “I am simply assessing clues in this visual material to compile a psychological profile. This is part of my negotiation program.”
“So, what’s the verdict then?” Markus raised an eyebrow
“Given the context of the instructions, I would say that you were on the verge of fully deviating, but still holding back. Your program had reached a level of instability of approximately 87%, putting you at great risk of deviation if triggered by an emotional shock. What happened next?” he asked, turning back to Markus.
— Gardengate, chapter 4
