vague vendetta - d:bh connor

three

NOV 6TH, 2038

PM 03:02

HANK HAD INTERESTING taste in food. He stopped in front of a food truck called the Chicken Feed. I didn't mind food trucks, but I wasn't expecting this.

"Whoa! Hey, hey, hey!" Hank almost got hit by a self-driving car, yet he cared so much about Connor on the highway. It seemed, to me at least, that Hank looked after others more than himself.

I got out of the car, waiting for Connor to come too. A man started to chat with Hank, and the two looked to be acquainted. Connor closed the door behind him. I was too busy watching Hank to notice Connor had come out of the car.

"Plastic with you?" The man pointed at the two of us near the car, "Only temporarily." Hank assured. Connor and I approached Hank to linger and listen.

Another man came out from the back, and his eyes lit up when he saw Hank, "Hey, hey, hey! Hank, how you doin', man?" Hank lit up, too, "¡Ese!" The other man leaned over the counter, holding his hand next to his mouth like he was sharing a secret.

"Hey, listen, I got a shit-hot tip for you. Number five in the third, Lickety-split! That filly's one hell of a chaser. You wanna flutter?" He added a wink at the end. Hank grumbled a little, considering the offer. I hadn't realized Hank was into horse racing or gambling.

"Last shit-hot tip you gave me set me back a week's wages, Pedro." Hank took a sharp intake of breath. Pedro attempted to quell his worries, "Come on! It's different and 100% guaranteed. You can't go wrong."

Hank let out a sigh, "Yeah, right. Alright, I'm in." Hank handed over some money with a handshake, "Damn straight! Hey, you won't regret this!" Pedro called back as he walked down the sidewalk.

Connor went to stand next to the lieutenant. Hank turned to him, a light scowl on his face, "What is your problem? Don't you ever do as told? Look, you don't have to follow me like a poodle!"

"I'm sorry for my behavior back at the police station. I didn't mean to be unpleasant." Connor leaned a little closer to Hank. Hank shook his head, "Wow," He chuckled to himself, "You've even got a brown-nosing apology program! Guys at CyberLife thought of everything, huh?"

"Here you go." The man handed over two boxed hamburgers with a drink. "Ah, thanks, Gary. I'm starving." Hank turned around to go sit down.

"Don't leave that thing here!" Gary called after Hank. Hank laughed, "Not a chance! Follows me everywhere." Connor, of course, followed the lieutenant to the table, "See?"

Hank beat us to the table. Connor and I leaned against the table, Hank handing me one of the boxes. I hummed, pleased. Connor's LED whirled a vivid yellow. He was processing information of some kind; I pondered what he was scanning.

"I don't mean to concern you both, but your meal contains 1.4 times the recommended daily intake of calories and twice the cholesterol level; you shouldn't eat that." Connor's eyebrows raised in worry. Hank stopped eating and thought for a moment.

"Everybody's gotta die from something." He shrugged and returned his focus to his burger. I smiled, "A little tub never hurt, right?" Connor offered me a kind smile, though I knew he disagreed.

"Do you eat here often?" Connor tilted his head. Hank nodded, "Most days, Gary makes the best burger in Detroit." I scoffed, locking my eyes with Hank, "You haven't had a burger from my dad. He's a grillmaster." Hank scoffed back, rolling his eyes playfully.

"Is there anything you'd like to know about me?" Connor asked, directing Hank and I's attention back to the conversation, "Hell, no! Well, yeah, um. Why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?" Hank asked, a shit-eating grin decorating his features. I started to laugh as Connor looked offended.

"CyberLife androids are designed to work harmoniously with humans. Both my appearance and voice specifically are designed to facilitate my integration." Hank nodded, then tilted his head teasingly, "Well, they fucked up."

"Oh hush, old man. I think they did a pretty good job." I defended Connor. Thankfully, he looked appreciative of my efforts. Hank sneered, the same shit-eating grin on his face, "That's because you have the hots for it." I rolled my eyes, ignoring him.

"I do have a question, though. How come I've never seen a model like yours before?" Connor smiled and explained, "I'm a prototype." I nodded, taking another bite of my burger, "Maybe Gavin's onto something, a new detective android? Perhaps we will lose our jobs." Hank groaned at the mention of Gavin.

"You're still hanging out with that asshole?" His mouth hung open slightly in surprise. I snorted, "Well, I don't have many friends."

"Maybe I should tell you what we know about deviants?" Connor suggested, and Hank looked content with this choice. Hank waved his hand in front of him, "You read my mind, proceed."

"We believe that a mutation occurs in the software of some androids, which can lead to them emulating a human emotion." What I noticed was Connor was talking with his hands. That was an abnormally human thing for him to do.

"In English, please." Hank held up his hand to stop Connor from continuing, "I understood it just fine, old man." I teased.

"They don't feel emotions. They get overwhelmed by irrational instructions, which can cause unpredictable behavior." Connor intertwined his hands on the table. It made sense, of course, but it was interesting to hear CyberLife's perspective on deviants.

"Emotions always screw everything up. Maybe androids aren't as different from us as we thought." Hank pressed his lips together and took another bite of his food. My eyes drifted from Hank to Connor.

"Only now realizing, Hank?"

Hank only briefly paid attention to my words. He leaned toward Connor, "You ever dealt with deviants before?" Connor's LED spun yellow until he nodded, "A few months back, a deviant threatened to jump off the roof with a little girl. I managed to save her."

Hank made several small nods before speaking again, "So, I guess you've done all your homework, right? Know everything there is to know about us?" Connor smiled softly.

"I know you graduated top of your class. You made a name for yourself in several cases and became the youngest lieutenant in Detroit. I also know you've received several disciplinary warnings in recent years, and you spend a lot of time in bars." Connor spoke directly to Hank, then turned to me.

"I also know that Y/N is Special Agent Perkins's son. He followed in his father's footsteps instead of following his passion for software engineering. I know he's a highly respected detective and has a cat." A short laugh escaped me, "I get how you can find all that other stuff, but how'd you know I have a cat?" I tilted my head in disbelief. Of all things, I did not think Connor would bring up my cat.

"You have cat fur on your clothing." He stated matter-of-factly. I shrugged, "Fair point." Hank shifted his feet while staring intently at Connor.

"So, what's your conclusion?" Hank's stare did not let up. Connor chose his words in a second, "I think working with officers with personal issues is an added challenge, but adapting to human unpredictability is one of my features."

Connor threw in a wink at the end. I'd be lying if I said a fire didn't flare up in my chest. Hank shook his head with a grin. Connor's LED blinked rapidly in yellow.

"I just got a report of a suspected deviant. It's a few blocks away. We should have a look. I'll let you finish your meal. I'll be in the car if you need me." Connor walked toward the car, leaving Hank and me to eat.

"What a weirdo," Hank mumbled under his breath.