Sitting on a polished wooden chair, a blinding ray of pale light snaps onto me, exposing my features and the receding shadows of its spacious room. A second beam followed, bathing Connor in its unforgiving white sting. We squint, trying to piece our surroundings. Four figures remain beyond us at an assigned table, folding their arms. An idle abandoned seat rests on the corner.
"The council of Jericho has formed to discuss action toward Detective (L/N)'s CyberLife case. We've booked this courtroom due to CCTVs catching several CyberLife agents roaming by the area," Markus booms, gesturing to the representatives across the extended desk.
Dressed from top to bottom in grey tones, North, himself, and two mysterious men are present. Introductions are offered to avoid unfamiliarity, specifying the rest as Simon and Josh.
I froze at the strangers, gaping dumbly at Simon and Josh. Steely blue and brown hues interrupted the recognition of reality I had seconds ago. Holy shit, it's them. "Problem?" Markus enquired, noting my strange behaviour. "Uh, no, nope," I coughed, twiddling my thumbs.
"We didn't mean to delay the proceedings," Simon declared, pulling his sleeves to his wrists. "Josh and I were intercepting illegal transactions of android components." Blondie speaks as though I haven't heard of such things. Oddly humble as well as insulting. That android has definitely snooped over my police records and doesn't act shamed about it whatsoever.
"What was found immediately got donated to clinics and charity, if any of you are curious," Josh joined in, receiving a faint appreciative smile from the mayor and the PL600. Yeah, yeah, trying to avoid a search warrant, I get it. Ignoring their statements, North stared wistfully at the vacant seat beside her, waiting for it to be occupied.
"Let us begin."
Members take their seats and prepare their materials. Most of them can barely sustain eye contact with Connor and as a substitute, their cautious frowns drop to my position.
"Jericho is aware of the events that took place by the river, and the council wishes to provide assistance," Markus claims, "On a few conditions." Great, Connor and I earn the right to investigate a billion-dollar company and we've earned two procedures from it. Exactly what we needed.
Obtaining aid to complete the investigation is a nice gesture, don't misunderstand me. It's the ache of impatience that ignores it, making generosity fade to displeasure. There are differing motivations tied to each breathing individual in this room. Our true enemy is established, and our bond has stemmed from this knowledge. That is the main reason as to why we stand so civilised.
For future reference, it's beneficial they record their assistance by lawfully conceived contracts to seal our relationships to the case. If Jericho has no signature of mine, it's illegal for them to investigate CyberLife and they'll be punished accordingly.
Although the papers may state our relationship is mutual, exorbitant paper won't achieve my trust that easy. "Name them," I entreated, slumping on the crafted wooden bends of burnt sienna. A row of LEDs flicker yellow momentarily. Some sync, some don't.
Josh's attention shifts around the room, at council members, Connor and at the two exits away from anybody's reach. "You must follow our orders, when necessary, respect our precautions and cut off social ties outside of this room," North read aloud, aligning her documents effortlessly.
"Bit late there, I got Markus to help me yesterday with Hank," He stares inquisitively at this, uncertain of the credibility behind the informal statement. "Is Lieutenant Anderson the only person you concern yourself with?" Connor too, is inclined to hear the response.
"Is there a problem with that?" I spat, straightening my jacket. Aside from Sumo, I care about Hank more than I do myself. Rest of the DPD doesn't bother me. "None. On the contrary, it makes this simpler for you," the hollow room returns to a comfortable stillness. "There is one last area that requires your consent," Simon hesitates, grasping a peculiar file.
"Let me guess, I have to forge a new identity?" I raise an eyebrow, watching Josh clutching the file in his palms. Could be anything really, mostly along the lines of strategical methods. "We need to place a tracker on you, in case of an emergency situation."
The schematic is bestowed onto me; its contents are skimmed. Complex diagrams were taped beside paragraphs of information. Neck trackers, ankle trackers... depending on where it is determines how large the transplant will be is itself.
Red stickers are attached to a particular draft. Benefits of installing it were infinite. Majority of their minds set on a heart tracker due to its supplementary support system. This transplant is infamous to Detroit, mainly from its ineffective design and the reduced chances of living.
Compatibility had to be off the charts to have this heart tracker drilled into one's chest. Think of it as quick-acting insurance which grants an arbitrary boost. Patients who underwent this transition recorded various results, so its common boosts are debatable.
It ranged from fixing critical areas to lightly wounded limbs. Perhaps they want to gamble on repairing my damaged hearing, killing two birds with one stone.
How silly of me, they wouldn't gamble my life for a weak probability. Under their titles, they probably have qualified staff to implement the tracker into my chest. There is no professional out there who can change these odds.
A visible advantage is boldly underlined: undetectable under scan. I peek at the Jericho representatives and read further. Jumpstarts heart, no CPR needed, regulates blood flow- a page is flipped. Evident at the bottom of the page lay a respected doctor's contact.
Trackable distance can attain 30 kilometres. Toggle switch contained. Enhances overall performance.
Heavy glares are seared onto my flesh, needing a reaction, an indication of emotion, something. Seeing this heart tracker is humorous. They're unconfident in my abilities as a human detective yet they pretend they aren't. True, I am flawed, but so are they.
"Mmmm, no."
Red circles cover the area and conflict arises in their sets of coloured eyes.
"None of these options look good."
"This has been presented to you because CyberLife can easily separate us from you without this technology. If you don't accept these trackers, not only are you endangering yourself, but the whole investigation." Markus steadily calms himself, while the rest ponders their next approach.
Still thinks he's got power over me. Mayor, you're not the leader of the android revolution anymore, as if I'd blindly follow this. Connor's lips part, setting his priorities to protest against his pessimistic conclusion.
"Shouldn't be too hard to locate me, there's only one CyberLife tower in Detroit," I lazily gesture my head to the exit, unable to comprehend the intensity of this decision. Connor bites back his remark and stays listening. "Perhaps we could offer an alternative method," North shared, skimming past records.
"If none of those choices are working for you, I can place a tracker in a small object or resort to piercings and such," she points at sections in her files, trying to find a good example. Escaping with a piece of jewellery instead of a piece of metal poking at my insides is far more suitable. I'd take it any day.
Futile as the product may be, the investigation is not getting postponed. Especially out of an android fearing my fragile human qualities. What brings me here in the first place is to ensure I won't get disrupted. "That'll do," I voluntarily agreed, crossing my legs. Josh retreats to the desk and returns the research to Simon.
"You can't be serious, North," Markus scoffed, "The RK900 can detect that within a-"
"Markus, I don't care. There's no way in hell I'm going to pressure her into signing a consent form when there are safer alternative choices she can take," she argued, sparing an insensitive frown off her heated rosy cheeks. Haven't started the case yet and I've learnt there are more RK models in town.
Disregarding the pointless argument of the mayor and North, I began speculating.
In the records I've dug through, there are no models named 'RK900,' so it's safe to assume this prototype is recent. During academy years, I've listened to rumours of a specific unknown model and multiple kinds of details were tossed everywhere in the city. Didn't interest me as much as my roommates.
Knowing CyberLife, their pure existence strives for the best. Connor's model may have been experimented with and acted as a blueprint for illegal enhancements to different models. When there was nothing left, they felt the river was suitable for his deactivation. It's best I form theories and research after this discussion is handled.
Speaking of Connor, I haven't heard a word from him since the beginning of our meeting. He's been practicing coin tricks, subconsciously directing his awareness toward the loudest speaker of the room throughout the conversations.
Shooting an anxious glimpse, I move my lips to silently check on him. Connor's dimples curve at the edges of his mouth and automatically presents a wry grin, distracted by the sudden care for the android.
"(L/N)," Markus blasts, "I strongly advise one of the trackers from the files you've seen. Keep it and consider it at a later date." Defying glares are shared between him and North. Nobody could be bothered to step in and take a side of theirs.
Markus fetches every signature from the council and stands over me, blocking the direct lighting from reaching my features. "Will you accept our assistance on this case?" He seethes, holding a pile of paperwork in his left arm. Wow, he sure does scream 'very approachable and friendly Markus,' doesn't he? Makes me totally confident in this meeting.
"If it weren't for me, you'd be down at CyberLife tortured half to death by now."
Contemplating my lack of options, I grumble under my breath. Taking a simple pen out of a pocket, I signed my allegiance in black ink. As much as I do and don't like him, Jericho knows a lot more than I do in this current moment.
After signing, he aggressively slams the thick stack of tracker research onto my lap. That's definitely going to leave a red mark for tonight.
"This meeting is adjourned."
Doors whine at his forceful push, and he storms through them recklessly. Can't describe what was on his nerves, although it did linger right beneath the surface. I glance to the representatives perplexed, hoping they knew what was wrong.
"He gets like that when he's worried," Simon explains, cleaning the table with the rest of the representatives. "Please excuse his behaviour, detective." A warm smile is plastered on him, and he passes through the doors in desperate search of Markus.
North places a hand on my shoulder, pulling me to the second exit. Tunes of irritable buzzing erupted inside my ears as frantic whispers emptied into it. "I need to talk to you for a bit." A circular pendant is shoved into one of my thigh pockets and North holds onto an arm of mine.
"What about Connor?" She swats her hand in the air, "He's got Josh, don't worry." In the second set of doors, we strode into the chilling grounds of Detroit.
I chewed the inside of my mouth, keeping a slow pace on the concrete footpaths." What, you've got separation anxiety now?" I dug my hand into a pocket, busied by the scattered collection of diminished charcoal trees. "No."
"Then you can handle at least five minutes," she puffed, rubbing her arms to keep her thirium in flow. Our movements stumbled into an aged park angled toward the Ambassador Bridge.
Surging glows cascade onto the river, sending a glimmering reflection back to the crossing. The rhythm of the flat liquid stays undisturbed, laying in tranquillity as the moon caresses its curls and twists.
Faint noises of car horns are blared on the bridge and its busied traffics decorate the roads a mix of yellow, silver, and red hues. Brushes of wind lightly strokes the park, chewing at our body warmth tucked beneath our layers. Buzzing kept biting at the insides of my head each time I registered new noises.
"Nice, isn't it?" North awkwardly breathes out, clasping her hands together. Familiarity reminds me, opening memories that were once spent here. Ghosts of my former versions glowered, existing in their messy uniforms spent on failed cases. Gavin and I spent a lot of time here and quite frankly, I miss having coffee on a bench with him. We were scarily different years ago.
A vision of Gavin mimicked him waving at me fondly, taking a sip from his warm beverage. Bandages were freshly applied on his nose, covering the ugly soon-to-be scar. "If you're going to apologise, do it now and we'll head back," I mumbled, disliking the nostalgia I felt for this park.
She presses her lips inward, forming a thin line. "I want to tell you why I reached out," North blurted, "And explain why we had that meeting." Her back pressed on the edge of the river, ignoring the river to confront her task. "My intentions run deeper than you think."
My thoughts trace to Connor's memories, and how proudly she appeared by Markus and Jericho. "Explain then," I ordered, curious of where the discussion will end. "I used to be close to Connor. I knew him more than the others did," she bit her lip, rubbing the back of her neck.
Pictures of them covered the interior of my mental walls. Lying in bed together, staring at each other lovingly, pulling in for soft kisses under moonlight. Hands swept their skin, exploring their touch, teasing, batting their lashes, whispering sweet nothings. My teeth clenched, and bruises upset my stiffened limbs from tensing where I stood.
"How close?" I grumbled, debating if I wanted the answer or not. "Not this Connor, a... different Connor. Sorry, I forgot they had the same name," she shyly explained, slapping a deep blue blush on her face.
"I knew a different Connor before the revolution. The RK900 Markus mentioned, he used to be a member of Jericho and an RK800 until somebody else changed that," she began pacing parallel to the railing.
So, he's not a recent model. Once again, I think to Connor's memories. Along with it, I recalled a few news articles I read about years ago, "I thought you and Markus were close?"
Her mouth keeps moving and not a word falls out. "Well," North struggled, "That happened... a while ago. It's best it stays that way," I click my tongue and eye the nearby lamppost. "Anyway. Connor's faced a similar situation as the Connor in there," I whip my head to face her.
"How so?" A heavy sigh comes from her, scrunching up her darkened eyebrows." He's been completely brainwashed as a machine. He doesn't remember me," North's LED blares a hot magma red.
"Anyway, you don't need to know our history, what matters is that Markus got you here and..." North starts to shake, and her arms fold to strain herself. Poor android, she's got a lot to process in those cloudy pupils.
"And when I heard about Connor being saved from the river, I thought, maybe I can find him again and that he's out there. Maybe he's..." A sting pierces her chest, forcing her eyes shut to endure its sudden blow, "Maybe he's somewhere in the CyberLife tower." As she talked, I stole a seat on the dusty bench in silence, keeping my attention glued to her.
"I miss him dammit, I've known him since the start," North turns her tear-soaked gaze elsewhere, using sleeves to clean up the corners of her eyelids. "He's beyond fixing, I know that. But it hurts knowing that he's still her lifeless toy. He doesn't deserve to be used like that, especially for her."
It's upsetting to remain stationary. Having no understanding of what she's been through and it's inappropriate of me to offer advice or say anything. Offering an awkward hug of comfort or sitting here clueless is equally absurd. "I'll help you," I blurted on instinct, leaning forward on the bench. Fuck, what am I doing? This is no place to offer help unless she asks it of me.
"No," she sniffled, dialling her LED to yellow. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to guilt you or anything. I thought you deserved an explanation behind my action sat the DPD, that's all." I shook my head at her and leaned back. "You're fine. You didn't kill me, so I'm not pissed off about it."
A small smile tugs on the corner of her lip. She stands abruptly with her mouth hanging open, then quickly shuts it. "God," she wipes away another tear," You're never going to see me like this again." Light-hearted chuckles come out of me and North pats her face dry, "It's okay to cry every once in awhile."
Ironic of me to say since I haven't cried for who knows how long. Dammit, wrong choice of words. A shot of recollection is present in her eyes, and her fingers snap constantly until she remembers what she's wanting to say. "That um..." She trailed off, now picking up on her memories. "That pendant in your pocket, do you, have it?"
Fishing out the peculiar object, I present it to North. "Yeah, I got it. What's it for?" I scan my eyes over it, "It's a tracker for the time being. I had it with me in case." I observed closely and stared at the circuitry within it.
"Oh, that makes sense," I realised, inspecting all of its corners. "If there's a problem, press it and it alerts me and others close by with your location. I'll give you another one later."
Knowing this, I press it intentionally, and the LED on her temple flashes red repetitively. "I have a problem, I'm tired. Can you carry me to bed?" I joked, still holding the pendant upright. North reacts apathetically and lets out a deep disappointed sigh.
"Detective, you know what I mean. A real problem. I'm not your damn butler." She disarms the pendant through tapping at her LED, and it viciously spins yellow. She raises her index finger, signalling that she's connected through to a line.
"Nothing's wrong, it's okay... no, it's fine, it was an accident... oh Josh now don't you start... guys, I got it under control now quit it." I place the pendant in a pocket and cheekily smile at the android. "Should've picked your words better, huh?"
Her eyes roll, and she disconnects, "God, why did you of all people have to find him at the river? You're such a pain in the ass." I shrug my shoulders at her, "Well, I don't know, shit happens."
North fixes her hair and the two of us are left standing. As we chose to spoke up, we interrupted each other and kept ushering the other to proceed.
Finally, North gathers herself, "I just want to thank you for finding Connor and I'm sorry about," she gestured to my ears, "I'm sorry about hurting you back at the department."
Shaking my head, I send a smile, "It's all good, North, you've got plenty of other things to worry about and this isn't one of them." The last of her tears are spent and her LED slides to blue.
This newfound connection felt strange, given we barely know our backgrounds. We spent a comfortable silence admiring the border, letting time pass by. For a stranger, she's easy to get a long with.
Maybe I've misjudged Jericho.