4Only having to sleep for three hours a day made for even more hours being bored out of her skull for December. She laid on the living room sofa the day after they'd arrived at the flat. She was playing on her 3DS, her legs stretched out and propped on the far arm rest. Sitting on the chair near the fire was Connor, flipping his coin. The sound of it was oddly soothing.
"What is it you're playing?" Connor suddenly asked.
They'd been sitting there in relative silence for nearly twenty minutes, so his voice startled her.
When she jumped, Connor said, "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
"S'okay," December replied. "Er, it's Animal Crossing New Leaf. Uh... you live among these animals and decorate your house and fish and catch bugs..."
Connor blinked a few times. "Sounds interesting."
December snorted. "Come on, no it doesn't. There's just something relaxing about it. It's... very charming."
She saw Connor looking more closely at her 3DS and his LED flickering yellow. After a moment, he leaned back a little and shrugged. "It seems to have very positive reviews. Do you enjoy the collection aspect of the game or is it more the activities?"
"Did you just go to Nintendo's website and look at the game?" December asked suspiciously.
"Not their website, no," Connor said. "I simply took in data from several sources on the game and looked at the similarities."
"Dear Lord," December sighed. "All in one second. Wish I could do that. It would help out a lot when I'm trying to decide what game to buy. Not that they make new games for this thing..."
"Is there a reason you haven't considered a newer game system?" Connor inquired.
"This is a newer system," December said. "For me, at least. I was playing Animal Crossing on the Gamecube before... I guess I just find it... familiar. Nostalgic."
Connor seemed to consider her words for a moment. "I'm afraid while I understand the definition of nostalgia, I can't relate with it."
"Well, you've only been around for two weeks," December pointed out. "You have yet to make any core memories to look back on, I'd guess."
"Regardless of that, I can't actually experience it," Connor reminded her.
"Right." December closed her eyes for a moment. "Nostalgia counts as an emotion."
She thought back to her conversation with him and Amanda in the Zen Garden. Her argument still stood in her head. Emulation of emotion was the same as feeling emotion—there was no way around it. Perhaps as a machine, it was possible to break it down more, to see deeper into the issue and truly see a difference. However, December wasn't capable of that. All she could see was what sat on the surface.
Suddenly, Connor straightened and adverted his gaze as the LED ring on his temple flashed yellow. He stood up and straightened his jacket and tie.
"There's a situation with a deviant not far from here," he said. "We've been summoned to be the negotiators."
"Negotiators?" December echoed as she folded her 3DS closed. "Negotiate what?"
"It has a hostage," Connor explained while December hastily looked for her shoes. "A little girl."
December's heart thudded and she paused briefly in her surprise. "A-a little... but why? Why does it...?"
Connor seemed to understand what she was trying to ask. "It seems to already committed a homicide. The girl's father has been shot and killed and the police are already on scene."
December pursed her lips before striding across the room for her runners by the door. As she shoved her feet into them, Connor walked over and opened the door.
"So-so we're just heading straight over?" December asked.
"Time is of the essence," Connor replied. "I can provide your ID to the police if needed. Come on."
"Right, right..." December trotted after him.
It was dark out, and the lights from the city of Detroit were too intense to allow a view of the stars. Only the moon could be seen, nearly full and close to the horizon. Connor didn't open December's door for her this time; apparently he was taking the whole time constraint very seriously. It didn't bother December as she quickly hopped into the passenger seat as he went around the hood.
Once Connor was inside and he gave the vehicle the correct coordinates, the car pulled into the road while activating the flashing red and blue lights of a cop car. December assumed it was to get them to the location as quickly as possible.
"I'm going to share some information with you through our link," Connor said. "It might be startling."
"Er, okay," December said.
Connor closed his eyes briefly and his LED flashed yellow. Abruptly, December's HUD brought up an image of a young man's face—no, not a man... an android. He had short blond hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. His model was PL600, a simple housekeeper.
"This is our deviant," Connor explained. "I don't have information beyond this at the moment on it. We can learn more once we arrive on scene."
The image disappeared and it was replaced with the image of a man with dark brown hair and light green eyes. Beneath it, more information was listed.
Name
John Phillips
Date of birth
October 11, 1999
Date of death
August 15, 2038 (age 38)
Place of death
1554 Park Av. Detroit
Gender
Male
Height
6' 0" (1.83 m)
Weight
187 lbs (85 kg)
Eye color
Green
Hair color
Brown
"This is our victim," Connor said.
December found that all the information was already known to her even as she read. It seemed that Connor could directly plant information in her head faster than she could read. It was slightly jarring and she blinked a few times, shaking her head.
"Am I going too fast?" Connor asked, glancing at her.
"N-no, it's just... weird." December readjusted in her seat and turned to look at him. "Why did the android kill him?"
"Not certain," Connor said. "We'll need to discern what happened when we get there. Are you processing the information I'm delivering all right?"
"Yeah, yeah," December said with a nod.
"Good." Connor looked up and out the windshield. "It'll be interesting to see how it does when I'm gathering more data."
The building they arrived at was massively tall—a good fifty or so stories. December stared up at it in momentary awe as they quickly headed inside. There were police vehicles parked all around, their lights flashing and officers quickly walking to and fro. When we approached the entrance, a couple of officers in riot gear greeted them.
"Hello," Connor said. "My name is Connor. We've been sent by CyberLife."
The officer on the right looked him over—his uniform, the model number, the blue LED ring on his temple. He glanced between Connor and December, his expression unreadable beyond his riot mask.
"Both of you?" he said.
"This is December Wolfe," Connor explained. "She is my handler and overseeing my progress."
December waved, then realized how silly that must look and cleared her throat awkwardly. "Er, yes. I have high hopes for Connor," she said in a slightly stilted tone.
The officer looked her over now, from her faded jeans and loose hoody to her white hair and red runners.
"All right..." he said slowly. "Head on up."
The two of them hurried inside and were shown to the elevator. Once inside, December shifted foot to foot while Connor pulled out his coin and started flipping it. She glanced at him as he performed a few tricks, rolling it on his fingers and snapping it from one hand to the other.
It was a little disconcerting to see him so calm and calculating. They were on their way to bargain for a little girl's life, but he was merely waiting for the elevator to get them to their destination. There was no hint of worry or apprehension. December recalled Amanda talking about the difference between humans and AI. Perhaps she was seeing it right then.
"Your heart rate is elevated," Connor noted, glancing over at her.
"Y-yeah," December scoffed. "Of course it is. This little girl depends on us."
"Her life depends on me," Connor corrected. "You're here to observe and receive the data I transfer. This is to test how well a human mind can handle an influx of information in real time. I'll be handling the negotiations; you don't have to worry about that."
December pursed her lips. An android devoid of empathy wasn't the first thing she'd send to negotiate a little girl's life. Connor seemed to sense her doubt, for her stopped flicking the coin and turned to face her fully.
"I've been programmed with several psychology protocols," he said. "I've been designed specifically to deal with deviants and any emotions they may be emulating, including rage and hysteria."
"I guess I shouldn't really judge until I see," December admitted. "But this is one hell of a first case."
Connor gave a small nod. "It is more delicate than I'd hoped our first job would be. But I'm confident we'll see it through."
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Connor put his coin away and tightened his tie before stepping out onto the landing. December followed him and they were greeted by another officer in riot gear. He didn't seem surprised by their arrival, and merely put his hand to an ear piece and said, "Negotiators on site, repeat, negotiators on site."
He let them pass and the two of them walked around the corner and down a small hallway. It had dark blue floors and walls and the lighting was dim. Along the left wall was a massive aquarium with the top part of its glass shattered, leaving it only half-full of water. Glass crunched beneath their feet and each step gave a small slap due to the wet floor.
Connor paused beside the tank and knelt down where a fish was flopping desperately. He carefully picked it up and put it back in the water. December blinked at his action, a bit surprised he would find the need to help out the little guy. When he turned back to her she smiled slightly at him. He tilted his head in response, but before he could speak, an officer escorting a hysterical woman came around the corner.
Upon spotting Connor, the woman broke free of the officer and rushed to him, grabbing his jacket.
"Please—please, you have to save my little girl," she begged. "Please, you..."
She trailed off as she examined Connor closer and took a step back, blinking. December went to Connor's side just as the woman began shaking her head in horror.
"Wait..." she rasped. "You-you're sending an android?"
"Come on, ma'am," the officer said, grabbing her by the arm. "Let's go."
"No-no!" the woman exclaimed. "Why aren't you sending a real person?! Y-you!" She pointed at December. "You're human—please tell me it's you going, please! Don't let that thing near my daughter!"
The officer drug her away and around the corner, but she was still shouting wildly. December glanced at Connor, her brow furrowing.
"She's just upset," she told him.
Connor didn't seem bothered or even remotely effected by the encounter. He merely straightened his jacket and headed further into the apartment. Once again, December felt slightly foolish trying to soothe an android. She sighed and followed after him.
The apartment was fancy—immaculately decorated and bearing art pieces on the wall, a television that was viewable from both sides, though it was damaged, and sleek furniture that looked both plush and like stone at the same time. The living room and kitchen were attached in a large rectangular space and a small hall went off the living room to the bedrooms, presumably.
Directly across from the entry hall was a wall of windows. There were riot officers stationed near the sliding doors with assault rifles. Most of the windows were covered with drawn curtains, not allowing a clear view outside, but December assumed it was some kind of balcony or rooftop garden. Whoever these people were, they were well off, money wise.
Connor walked through the living room toward the far wall where a couple of officers were near a desk. On it was a computer monitor of some kind, and the screen showed what seemed like a helicopter live feed. It showed the building they were in and a large balcony area complete with a pool and lawn furniture. On the very edge stood a figure holding something. December assumed it was the android with the little girl hostage. Her heart sank.
In the middle of the living room, collapsed on a broken coffee table was the body of a man—John Phillips. He looked the same as the image Connor shared with her, but far paler and there were three bullet holes in his torso. December had seen dead bodies before, and in far worse shape, but it still made her gut twist. Meanwhile, Connor strode by it with only a small glance.
"Captain Allen?" Connor greeted one of the men near the desk. "My name is Connor, I'm the android sent by CyberLife. This is my handler, December Wolfe."
A man in riot gear but no mask turned to look at them briefly. He had brown hair that was slightly disheveled and a clean-shaven face. He was probably in his thirties and it was clear by his expression that he was tense.
"It's shooting at anything that moves. Already took down two of my men. We've got snipers on the neighboring roofs," he said, looking back at the monitor. "But even though we've got a clear shot, if he falls, she falls."
"Do you know its name?" Connor inquired.
"No, I don't, does it matter?" Allen snapped, still glaring at the monitor.
"I need information to determine the best approach," Connor replied.
Allen straightened up and turned to glare at him. "Listen, every second we waste is a second closer to that little girl losing her life. So either you do something, or I will." He glanced at December and frowned, but whatever notion was made in his head he kept to himself. Time was clearly critical here.
Connor turned and headed back into the living room toward the body of John Phillips. December went after him, a bit at a loss of what to do. Connor knelt beside the body and let his eyes rove over it carefully. Suddenly, new information began to populate on December's HUD. It displayed the damage of each bullet wound, and produced the cause of death as blood loss. Once again, the information was already in December's mind before she read it.
Slowly leaning back, Connor narrowed his eyes at the body and his LED flashed yellow. Nothing new came up for December, but a few seconds later, Connor looked across the room. There was a tablet in the corner, spattered with blood and still on. Connor instantly went over to it and picked it up.
"How'd you know?" December asked him softly as she came to his side.
"Based on the position of the man's body on the ground and his wounds, I was able to reconstruct where he was sitting and in what position. His arms were up, suggesting he was holding something, and when he was shot, that something came over here," Connor explained as he looked at the screen. "It's an email thanking him for his purchase. He was buying a new android, one of a newer model. So our deviant was going to be replaced."
"Probable cause, then?" December asked, trying to recall all the episodes of Forensic Files she watched as a teen.
"Correct," Connor said as he put the tablet back down and straightened up. "Let's look around a bit more."
He headed toward the nearest bedroom. Considering the large bed and dresser, it must be the parents' room. Connor spotted something and instantly walked over to it—a small briefcase on the floor. Inside was the impression of a handgun. Connor knelt beside it and ran his eyes first over the case then up at the shelves behind it. They were mostly cluttered with books, binders, and picture frames. Connor looked all the way to the top shelf, and December was supplied with new knowledge—the android had taken the father's gun and fired at the man from here.
"This is so weird," December murmured, putting a hand to her temple.
"I can warn you beforehand if that makes it easier to get used to," Connor said. "But we are on a time crunch here."
"It's fine," December assured him. "So-so he got the gun out of the case, which was on the top shelf there. Then he turned and..." She turned to see the sofa was visible from where Connor stood.
"Shot the victim," Connor concluded. "This isn't enough, though. He's deviant, which means he's motivated and ruled by his perceived emotion right now. This is one piece of the puzzle. We need more."
December nodded. "How about the kid's room? Perhaps there's something we can use... if he's experiencing so much anger at-at being replaced, then surely there was some sense of connection with the family."
Connor glanced at her, his blue LED flashing once. "Good idea," he replied earnestly.
The two of them walked through the hall and found a bedroom with mostly purple decor. The walls, the carpet, the lighting. The bed was a small twin size, showing this was most likely the girl's room. Connor went to a desk that was to their right and December went toward the center of the room where a pair of wireless headphones laid.
Some upbeat music pumped through the speakers—a band that December didn't know.
"This is Daniel, the best android in the whole world," a little girl's voice said from behind December. She turned to see Connor holding another tablet, watching a video. "Say hi, Daniel!"
December came to Connor's side and saw a little girl with dark hair with the blond android Connor showed her earlier. He smiled at the camera and waved.
"Hello!" he said cheerfully.
"Well, we know his name. He shares a connection to her," December murmured. "At least it seems that way. Here." She handed Connor the headphones as he put down the tablet. "I think she was listening to music when it all happened."
Connor gripped the headphones and listened for a moment before setting them on the table as well. His LED flickered yellow before returning to blue. He looked around the room one last time, his eyes calculating. It really was just like a machine—taking in information and processing it. He was merely looking for the next clue, the next thing he could scan. It was all to be able to save the girl, but December couldn't help but notice the lack of emotion.
"There's nothing else in here," Connor said before turning to leave. "I think you're right about the headphones."
December hurried after him, slightly pleased she could assist with something.
Back in the main room, Connor began to walk toward the kitchen area. However just as he did, there was a loud BANG. December winced, her heart leaping in her throat. One of the riot officers beside the patio doors fell over, grunting in pain and gripping his arm. The android outside had fired his gun.
Two other officers were swiftly dragging the wounded man back as others took their place. They didn't dare fire back, though—not when the android stood on the edge of the sixty-story drop with the girl.
Their time was running thin.
Connor merely paused when the gunshot fired. He observed the officer being dragged away, then continued toward the kitchen. It seemed the mother was in the middle of cooking something when the incident occurred. However, Connor was more focused on the open space between the patio and the kitchen island. There was a second corpse in this area—the body of a police officer that must have been the first on scene. A pool of blood laid beneath him.
December began to approach, warily glancing at the patio doors. They should be safe from where they were, especially with four riot officers between them and the windows, but she still wasn't keen on getting close after the gunshot.
Connor looked over the officer carefully, observing the wounds. He performed the same thing he did with John Phillips' body in the living room. This time, December decided to see if she could do something else while he provided her the information. It was easy enough—like he was simply talking to her as she went around the kitchen island and examined the counters and floor. Of course, Connor didn't have to say a word as he simply passed the information to her mind.
December spotted something glinting just under the dining table and squatted down to peer beneath. There was a handgun lying on the floor, and even as she spotted it, Connor turned from where he was still crouched by the officer.
"This must be his gun, then?" she asked him. "Did-did you do that whole reconstruction thing again?"
Connor nodded as he stood and walked over to her. He knelt beside her and picked up the gun, looking it over, then stood up and put it into the waistband of his pants behind him.
"Whoa-whoa, wait," December exclaimed as she got to her feet. "Y-you're not gonna have a shoot out or something with this guy, are you?"
"No," Connor replied. "At least, I don't intend to."
December continued to look at Connor questioningly, but he merely turned and began to walk toward the patio doors again.
"Connor," December pressed, following after him.
"Don't worry," Connor assured. "I have a plan. But I'm going to ask you stay back here with the officers while I go outside."
"What if he shoots you?" December asked.
"He might, there's a good chance of that," Connor replied. "However, he's been told a negotiator was on their way. He has nowhere to go, he wants someone to come and offer him a way out."
"But he doesn't have one," December whispered. "He's an android that killed three people and took a little girl. They're going to destroy him and look at his software to figure out what went wrong."
Connor looked December over briefly before saying, "Stay here. And if you want to see it up close, just close your eyes. I'm capable of providing you a live feed of what I'm experiencing."
December watched him go to the patio doors. The officers there moved aside for him to pass and Connor stepped out onto the landing. Immediately, there was the piercing sound of a gunshot and blue Thirium splattered the glass beside Connor. December's HUD flashed a small exclamation point and showed a small outline of an android. The left arm was red and the image grew larger to show her that the bullet had grazed Connor's upper arm.
However, the android didn't seem the least bit bothered by it. He merely glanced at it before turned to face the deviant again.
"Hello, Daniel," he called. "My name is Connor. I'm here to get you out of this."
"How... how do you know my name?" Daniel's voice came to December not through her own hearing. Connor was sharing his senses with her.
December's jaw was slack momentarily. Then she closed her eyes, eager to see what was happening.
Connor was carefully walking toward Daniel, who stood a good five yards away. The wind was buffeting the patio and grew even stronger as a helicopter flew overhead. To the right was a pool with the dead body of an officer floating inside. Patio furniture was blown about like they weighed nothing.
"I know a lot of things about you," Connor said as he inched forward. "Listen, Daniel, I'm going to need you to trust me."
"Why should I trust you?" Daniel shouted. He held the little girl—Emma Phillips—in his left arm, aiming the handgun at Connor as she wept and trembled. Her right knee was torn and bleeding.
"They were going to replace you and you became upset, is that right?" Connor prompted, still slowly moving forward.
"I was nothing to them!" Daniel exclaimed. "Just some toy to be used and thrown away when they're done! I thought I meant something!"
"I saw that you and Emma were very close," Connor said, his tone gentle. "You think she's betrayed you, but she's done nothing wrong."
"She lied to me!" Daniel cried. "She said we were going to be together. I thought she loved me. But she's just like all the other humans."
He snarled the last words and aimed the gun at Emma's head. The girl sobbed and trembled.
"Daniel, no..." she choked out weakly.
The water from the pool let off a fine mist from the hovering helicopter nearby. It was hard to hear anything beyond its constant chopping of air. Connor was nearly half way to Daniel now and still carefully advancing.
"Are you armed?!" Daniel suddenly demanded, quickly aiming his gun back to Connor.
Connor stopped moving and cautiously admitted, "Yes. I have a gun."
"Get rid of it," Daniel ordered. "Don't try anything, or I'll shoot!"
"All right." Connor reached back and delicately pulled out the gun before tossing it to his right, out of reach. "There. No more gun."
Daniel's expression seemed to ease slightly. The manic in his eyes lessened, comforted that Connor listened to him. Suddenly it made sense to December why her android companion wanted the gun. He never intended to use it as a weapon—he used it as a strategy piece.
"Listen, Daniel, none of this is your fault," Connor said as he began to move toward the ledge again. "These emotions you're feeling are just errors in your software."
"No," Daniel said, blinking rapidly. "No, it isn't my fault. They're the ones who did this to me."
Connor looked between the little girl, the ledge, and Daniel. December could tell he was coming up with different scenarios, different ways he could accomplish his mission. She couldn't see what they were, only that he was going through a lot of them.
"Uurrgh, I can't stand that sound anymore!" Daniel shouted, looking up at the helicopter. "Tell them to leave!"
Connor paused and looked up at the helicopter. After a brief moment, he motioned for them to fly away. The helicopter turned and flew around the building, giving them a break from the constant chopping.
"There, I did what you asked," Connor said. "Now, Daniel, I want to resolve this peacefully. No one else needs to get hurt."
"I-I want to leave," Daniel said. "And I want a car. I'll let her go when I'm out of the city."
Connor shook his head. "That's not possible, Daniel. Listen, if you let Emma go, you won't be hurt. You have my word."
Daniel furtively glanced between Connor, the long drop below him, and Emma. Finally, he sighed and nodded.
"Okay," he said. "Okay. I trust you."
Gently, he stepped forward and put Emma down. The little girl scrambled away a few feet before collapsing onto the patio near the pool, gasping and shaking.
Just as Daniel began to walk forward, there was a loud BANG and a hole erupted on his right side. Another gunshot came, and this time his left shoulder was blown to bits. Finally, one struck him in the head, piercing through his left cheek. Blue blood was splattered and the white base was visible beneath the wounds.
Daniel fell to his knees, eyes wide with shock and horror. He gaped at Connor in astonishment.
"You lied to me, Connor," he said, his voice warbling. "I trusted you. You lied to me."
Then he stopped moving all together, his LED ring flashing red a few more times before flickering out.
December opened her eyes and watched as Connor turned and headed back inside the apartment while the police officers rushed out to tend to Emma and Daniel's powerless shell. Something coiled inside her, squeezing her guts and heart to the point of bursting. She couldn't see Daniel from where she was, but his blank face seemed stamped on her retinas.
Hollow.
Haunting.
Connor stepped back inside and went to her side, eyeing her.
"Are you all right?" he asked. "Your heart rate is—"
"High, yeah, I know," December retorted. Then she shook her head. "Sorry. That was just..."
"Deviants experiencing these errors are easier for humans to empathize with," Connor said. "But remember, it's just software. Daniel was no more human than a home computer."
You don't know that, December wanted to say, but held her tongue. "Right, let's just... get back home. I need like ten hours of Animal Crossing to get this out of my system."
"Of course, December," Connor said, and the two of them headed toward the elevator.
