Your POV
Trial 118 for the RK800 model.
"Hello. I am 313 248 317. How can I be of assistance?"
I gape at the Android who is properly speaking now.
Despite not sleeping for seventy-two hours, I feel the excitement hitting me like huge wave or electricity. It fills my tired body with energy.
"Yes!" I exclaim, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Hopping up and down, I throw my hands into the air, cheering. "Finally, yes! Ha! Eat ass Wilson!" Gasping, I turn my attention back to the Android. "I need to test you on a few things if that's alright?"
"Of course, Miss. (Y/n)." And his voice-- thank God that is good. I've had to listen to the same set of phrases for five days trying to look and create his voice. . . Good thing that it paid off. . .
Glancing in the calendar, a smile forms on my lips as I let out a loud sigh.
I might actually be able to get this done on time.
-----
For some strange reason, I get called into the DPD's station to see Captain Jeffery Fowler.
Rubbing my hands together, I hold them up to my mouth, breathing warm air into them as if it was a little, frozen bird. Looking through the glass doors, I walk up the steps and enter. Wiping my boots on the mat, I walk up to an ST300-- a secretary based android.
"I'm (y/n), (L/n). Captain Fowler called me for a meeting?" I can tell that my tone is heavy with uncertainty.
I can't figure out why I'd be asked to go to the police department. Technically speaking, I am not a qualified officer nor do I have any real job experience in the forensic field. I've been called to a few labs but it isn't my job.
"Yes, he is waiting for you in his office at the back." With a plastic smile, she nods for me to pass. I appreciate the variation of androids. At least then it doesn't feel like you're going into the same building all of the time.
I thank her before passing the glass gates. Glancing around, I wonder if Hank is around or on a case. It's rather early for the man so is he even in? He could be drunk and passed out again.
A light chuckle escapes me when I watch Connor raise a set of headphones to his ear, only to pull away from shock.
Must be a pretty metal song.
"Loud right?" I question, stopping beside the Android. "Heavy metal."
"It is. . . Different," he answers.
"Probably because you haven't heard a lot of music before," I respond, smiling a bit. "Is the Lieutenant around?"
"He hasn't come in yet," Connor answers. "I didn't know that you worked here."
"I don't but someone requested to see me." Giving a small smile. "I can't figure out why but I guess I'll see in a few minutes."
"Are you in trouble? Should I be concerned?"
I gasp, placing a hand over my heart to feign pain. "If I must inform you, I have never broken the law in the past."
"That is what your database says." The android nods.
"Well, that's only good if you've been caught," I point out. "And hello Hank."
"And they say that parents have eyes on the back of their heads," the older man mutters as he walks past me and to his desk.
"Or the office is made of glass. . . And I can see your reflection," I reason. "The wonders of light."
"So what brings you here kid?"
"Hank! My office, now!" A man shouts, looking somewhat angry. . . I'll keep that frown in mind if I design an angry android any time soon. "And you too (l/n)!"
"No," I slowly say, not wanting to think that I have to hear a rant about Hank and his habits. "What did you do?" I question Hank as the three of us begins to walk. "Connor, did he do anything wrong?"
"Not that I'm aware of," the Android tells me.
"Hey, I'm right here." The older man playfully shoves me.
Entering the office, I take a seat, eager to hear the reason why an engineer might be requested to see the Captain of the police department. One glance and I can see that the Captain is stressing about whatever he is about to tell us.
Well, I couldn't stop my face from twisting into confusion, distaste, and strong disappointment. It feels like my first time trying to learn another language.
"Well at least you are a cop," I mumble under my breath, leaning back in the chair and crossing my legs.
There is that grinding noise again. My fingers quietly drum against the armrest as I think this through. One look at Connor, sure. I thought that after finding Hank, I would never see him again. The Android would leave my life forever as he did in the past. This is an investigation so, on top of the lack of experience, I have to work with. . . him.
It pisses me off more when I know who is behind this set up so if I don't do this, it shows that I am weak. Bitch, keep my seat because I'm about to show him up. I want CyberLife to know that I am not going to back down from my task.
One out of twenty people around the world who has a major in engineering and forensic science. If this is a case about androids, then I suppose it makes sense. There is a problem though-- I'm not a trained officer. . .
The other day, a deviant killed a man. I have zero training to protect myself against another human, nevermind an angry android. You wouldn't send an untrained person against another human, nevermind about Androids.
Seeing the Lieutenant storm out, I stand, eyes following him. My attention turns back to the Captain.
"Sir, in your honest opinion, do you believe that it's safe for me to be doing this?" I question.
There is a deep sigh paired with a facial expression that confirms the concern that I have for my safety. Absolutely not safe for me to do this but they are desperate.
"Very well then. . . I guess we'll be going," I speak. "Let's go Connor."
Walking past, I hear Connor speak but the man doesn't acknowledge him so he leaves.
When was the last time I've even seen a gun? Twelve years ago? After a deviant tried to save me but my father shot it?
As Connor and I reach Hank's desk, the Android instantly speaks. "I get the impression that my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant. I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that."
The man, hating androids with almost all of his heart, stays silent with arms crossed over his chest, slouching. I suppose it's better than shouting.
"In any case, I'd like you to know that I'm very happy to be working with you two. I'm sure we'll make a great team." At least they kept the polite and positive scripts for Connor's programming. "Is there a desk anywhere that I can use?"
"That one is not being used," I politely point out to the Android. He nods to me before walking over and taking a seat. I can't help but watch the two interact. I take a seat on the office chair beside the Lieutenant's desk. This will probably be more entertaining than my work at home. I guess if I am going to be doing hours here, I'll have to change my work schedule.
I smirk as less than twenty seconds go by and Connor is trying to converse with Hank-- to make the human comfortable. "You have a dog, right?"
The officer stops, glancing to me as if I'd help. I shrug. Too bad I'm too busy finding this amusing.
"How do you know that?" Hank's time has a hint of venom in it.
Oh boy, wait until he sees Connor check for DNA. . .
"The dog hair on your chair," the Android speaks as if that's the most casual thing to say. "I like dogs. What's your dog's name?"
I'm really beating myself trying not to laugh only to see the human glaring at me as if I'm the Android. I raise my hands as a truce, looking away from the death glare.
"His name is Sumo," I answer. "He's a cute dog."
"Are you going to tell him where I live too or something?" Hank rolls his eyes and resumes to work.
"If I can look up your address, what makes you think he can't?" I reply. Behind that smirk, I'm bitting flesh to prevent chuckling. I can sense that it would only make him angrier.
"Do you listen to the Knights Of the Black Death? I like that music. It's. . . Full of energy." He is trying really hard to impress his partner, isn't he?
Hank furrows his brows. I know that he senses someone kissing ass. "You listen to heavy metal?" He slowly questions.
It's great to see both sides of the picture. When something up close seems so dangerous, at a distance? It could be hilarious.
Now that I think of it, I'm not sure if Connor has any memory of listening to any music. I'm positively sure that--
"Well, I don't really listen to music as such, but I would like to," Connor cheerfully says.
Hank is baffled as looks back to his screen as if he has to contemplate his life decisions right now.
As an engineer who has spent many hours with several androids, I know how they interact with humans and others. As a friend of Hank Anderson? I know how much he hates those 'tin cans', so this for me? It's comedy gold.
I think I might die from holding in my laughter. Perhaps cardiac arrest or bursting a blood vessel.
"Excuse me, but I'm just going to get a cup of water," I shakily say, trying to not let any joy slip out. Even though I try, it slips through and Hank glares at me as if he is trying to tell me to not leave him alone with his worst enemy.
Too bad, so sad-- grown kids learn to deal with their emotions.
Standing, I chuckle to myself when I'm out of earshot. Priceless comedy.
As I pull a cup, I head someone stopping beside me. "Hello, there pretty lady-- are you a new officer?"
I've heard stories of this guy. I believe he is what people used to call "fuck boy," or an asshole. After university, I've become a professional at a few social tricks: dealing with assholes, ignoring bitches, and insulting people.
"Thank you, and no," I answer truthfully. "You are Gavin Reed right? Hank tells me you're an egotistic asshole-- which isn't really my type, but hey: you tried." Giving a quick fake smile, I walk away.
As I return, I see that the situation has turned into a drama. Things escalate too quickly for my liking.
"--but you need to move past them and--"
"Hey," the human cuts Connor off. "Don't talk to me like you know me. I'm not your friend and I don't need your advice, okay?"
There is barely a second of silence before the Android leans down, the good-cop, bad-cop integration is running. To be honest, it'll probably be constantly running. "I've been assigned this mission, Lieutenant. I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working."
Boys. . . You'd think that after a few decades of generation Z fighting for woman equality, you'd have better-behaving people.
Hank stands, roughly grabbing Connor's collar and pinning him to the wall.
"Whoa!" My shout is unnoticed.
"Listen asshole. If it were up to me, I'd throw the lot of you in the dumpster and set a match to it so stop pissing me off or things are gonna get nasty," the Lieutenant growls.
I'm starting to feel like androids are like those modern art pieces back in 2017 where there were two types of people: those who like it and somehow found meaning from that white canvas: and those who questioned what the hell did humanity come to-- buying a white canvas for fifteen million dollars. . .
"Hank," I warn, smile wiped off my face. "Let go and behave. I don't need another android on the workbench," I state, causing the man to step back, eyes still glaring daggers at the Android.
"Lieutenant-- I'm sorry to disturb you. I have some information on the AX 400 that killed the guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district," an officer speaks. I can tell that he is used to but not comfortable with the Lieutenant's action.
It peeks my attention. An AX 400? It's a caretaking model. . . Deviant too? I know it doesn't line up with the claim from CyberLife.
It seems to line up with my suspicion of deviancy. This 'disease' doesn't affect a specific type of android-- it can happen to all of them.
That's a crazy thing about disease-- they don't pick and choose who they infect, it just so happens that some people have built immunity to them.
"I'm on it," Hank speaks. Sending a final warning glare to Connor, he begins to leave.
"Are you alright?" I ask the Android out of common courtesy.
"I am fine," he speaks, giving a smile of reassurance.
Nodding, I let out a sigh. "Well let's get this show on the road."