Chapter 2: Mint colored cardboard

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There's something about Detroit's biting cold that always manages to pry its way into even the best artificially heated jackets. Not that you could afford the luxury of one. But while standing at that bus station all you could do was wallow in the absence of it. With the snow came the slurry of advertisements for a tolerable winter. And at this moment you were wishing you had given into the marketing of modern luxuries. Normally you're allowed a period of reprieve from the chill on your way to work. But despite your best efforts to shovel your car a path; today of all days the autonomous snow plows completely missed your street. Leaving your car ultimately useless. 'How is it even possible for them to miss something? I swear if the cars start going deviant were done for.'  Wearing a graceless grin at your own joke the buses arrival catches your thoughts. The delicate deceleration crunching the new fallen snow beneath it. Heaving your shivering frame into the machinery; you're engulfed in the hot air they so generously pushed through the vents. Almost with a sigh of relief adjusting the scarf peaking out the top of your ice christened coat. Filled with people the doors close and you clutch the overhead strap with a lackluster movement. Symptoms of the flu filled your ears, as you shallow your breaths. A fleeting attempt to avoid any bacteria that was being flung through the air. The fellow passengers chatter mingled within the confides of the space. Some busied themselves with their devices while others stared off; eyes foggy with their mirrored image just as unaware starring back. The bus slows for a light as your feet slide a bit on the slick metal flooring. Absently pulling out your phone the time tells you're officially late. A reminder popping up further rubbing in how bad of a first impression you're making. 'Almost an hour, fantastic.'  You debated sending a message earlier but decided against it. It seemed like a better option to offer condolences in person. But a gift could help sway any bad mood. Looking up the shops around the station you find a bakery and place an order for a dozen doughnuts. This isn't how you planned your first day to go at all. After mulling it over the previous night you were going to try and befriend your new partners. It wasn't just because it was in your best interest. But more so learning from how badly it back fired since you first arrived. Almost a year working now, and you had no one to have a drink with. The lonely lifestyle was getting to you, more than you'd like to admit. You had been so focused on your career and becoming someone you forgot that making acquaintances and building relationships was half the battle. But now that that red ribbon was cut you could breath; and just be the thing you've worked for. The bodies bustle past you as doors let off and on new passengers. In your peripheral a woman steps onto the platform. She looses her footing and slides backwards. The mix of melted ice and dirt had gotten rid of any traction formally there. Before you can react she's stopped. A gentle grip holding her upper arm in place and the other on her back. Frozen the pair linger as if to brace for anymore sudden movements. Surveying the situation you notice shes very pregnant. Poor thing probably doesn't have very good balance as it is with a belly like that. "Oh Jesus- gave myself a heart attack!" She announces to the now small crowd of people around her asking if she's alright. "Yes, i'm fine- really i'm okay!" The light airy laugh she offers seems to quell the peoples concerns. The bus resumes its route. And she turns to the young man who caught her before she fell. "Thank you so much, almost had a bad tumble there." His tall frame looming over her opposes the kind demeanor his face held. "Of course miss, wouldn't want anything to happen to that little one." He gestures to her bump as they exchange pleasantries. A strange feeling of mutual understanding resonating from them. As he turns his head you see it. His LED, that explained it. The quick reaction time, and lack of outer wear despite the weather. He was undoubtedly an android. Some distasteful glares were directed at him, regardless of his kind act. But It looked as though he didn't notice them. Or more so chose not to. As for her she had to of seen his LED, but it appeared that it didn't bother her. The two chatting as if there was no fundamental difference between them. You look away, eyes trailing back to your phone. Ever since the government stopped destroying and started embracing androids again, but in a different way; they had begun returning to the city. Within small droves you saw them slowly integrated back into daily life. But it was completely new. They were allowed to wear regular human clothes, and some chose to remove their LEDs as a form of break from slavery. While others kept them, claiming it was apart of them. That they weren't trying to be a human, but were rather embracing what made them an android. Glancing at the glass barrier in the back of the bus that read android compartment. A sort of sickness hits your stomach. It was a blaring demonstration of a societal wrong. Like a dirty word written on a bathroom stall.
You never knew how to interact with them. Your family could never afford one growing up. So when you'd visit friends and their robotic maids or nannies answered, you'd be short and quiet when interacting. It was just a computer program, but you always felt weird treating them how your friends and classmates had. You remember one girl in your class, a face but no name comes to mind. She was seemingly best friends with a domestic model. He'd been her caretaker since she was an infant. Took her to school, cooked, played games, taught her things. And then one day there was just a new one. She didn't even miss him. Just threw him away like an old toy. As children we're so impressionable we believe anything our parents and adults tell us. And because of this, you believed as well that they were just pieces of plastic running programs. Now you knew though, that was wrong. You hear him laugh at something the woman says. And you see something in him that didn't exist before. It's an uneasy feeling. And trying as you are you still have those initial thoughts when interacting with them. To just give them some orders and shoo them away. You're adapting however. It's difficult to change an image of a entire group of people. Especially when you were taught your whole life that that image was correct. But in order to be a good detective, to be a good person, you had to. Wrapped up by your self reflections the overhead voice chimes. Bringing you back to the present. And you make your way off the bus.

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