Rehash

Two.

My fist hurt like hell. 

I was pretty sure I'd at least sprained a few fingers, and it made sense. Trying to punch Ataraxia plastic, even with its smooth coating meant to simulate human skin, would do that. 

I hadn't even made a dent, yet, the blue-eyed man slowly raised one hand. He pressed his slender fingers to the spot where my knuckles made contact with his skin. 

His perfect skin. 

The man in front of me was the spitting image of my phone background. Actually, no. That photo based on design blueprints didn't do the real model Z-3293 justice. In the photo he was clearly meant to be aesthetically pleasing. In real life? Flawless. His vibrant blue eyes seemed to literally illuminate the alleyway. 

There were so many questions swirling around in my head, but the immediate facts were that he was dangerous. He'd attacked us. I scooted to the left, blocking the path between Z-3293 and my brother's unconscious body.

"What do you want?" I loudly demanded.

"Your phone." 

"My-- my what?" 

His voice threw me off by how normal it was. Sure, I had seen his specs. I'd listened to samples of twenty-fifty's ultra realistic voice synthesisers, which were now illegal to install on humanoid robots. But hearing it come from an android's mouth was still different. 

I shook my head. "What do you want with my phone?" 

Model Z-3293 lowered his hand away from his cheek, placing it on the tranquilliser gun. He aimed the weapon at my chest, index finger resting on the trigger. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to. Just be a good boy and give it to me."

"No. Go ahead and fire." I spread my arms. "Those guns have one charge and you already took your shot. That's not loaded." 

"Oh, really? I--" Z-3293's eyes briefly darted to the gun he was holding. Then he looked up at me sheepishly. "Did not think of a follow up threat for that."

In the split second he'd averted his gaze, I could've made a run for it. But with Alan hauled on my back, our chances of escape would be slim. I'd be too slow to reach the main street, where I could flag down a police drone. 

I was starting to question my own judgment, however. 

Something was wrong.

Model Z-3293 acted like a civilian; he stood there like your average ordinary tourist who got a gun shoved into his hand to pose for a five dollar picture. Hardly the military mastermind he was made out to be in the war log files. The android who stole the world's most dangerous bioweapon and neutralised it thousands of feet up in the air before it could hit Europe.

"Are you Spectre model Z-3293?" I finally asked. 

"Of course not, we're all dead." 

Model Z-3293 did a double-take and cringed. "They. I mean, they are all de- deactivated." 

There was definitely something wrong here. I side-eyed the android. Was he trying to trick me into lowering my guard by acting clueless?

"...Right," I said. "I'm gonna call you Zed, 'kay? Your full name is a mouthful." I nodded at the tranquilliser gun. "Put that away. You know I know it's not loaded." 

Zed hesitated before crouching down. He gingerly placed his weapon on the ground and stood again without breaking eye-contact. 

"I saw you had a picture of me on your phone. I just want to know where and how you got it," he said.