detection. Alice didn’t even alter her appearance and she made it here safely. Clearly, humans weren’t good at identifying deviants without android markings.
“I may take you up on that,” Connor said. The RK800 could alter all aspects of his appearance at will but Kara’s offer to assist was unexpected and nice so he was reluctant to dismiss it. “Thank you. I mean that.”
“I’m not sure when we’re leaving yet. Luther and I will hammer out the details and keep you in the loop in case you do decide to join us.”
A knock on the door caught the duo’s attention. Alice scampered and threw open the door with a grunt.
“Benji,” Kara greeted. “How are you?”
The AC700 had the classic fit build of a sports partner model, wearing jeans and a basic black shirt, but his face remained stoic even as he gave Kara a thumbs up. He focused on Connor, skin projection peeling back from his hand as he reached out.
Connor moved his arm away. “Do you know what you’re looking for?”
Benji nodded and reached forward again, undeterred.
Connor evaded his hand again. “And what’s that?”
An android’s code was the most intimate thing about them. A few tweaks and technicians could change anything. Connor didn’t trust handing his code over to a near stranger, despite North’s conviction and Kara’s presence.
A flicker of annoyance crossed Benji’s face and he held up his hand.
“What—”
Benji snapped his finger and a display appeared on his palm. Connor watched as a rapid series of images and text flashed over his palm, too quickly for a human to decipher, but at a reasonable speed for an android. An uncomfortable feeling coursed through his circuits.
Connor quickly scanned Benji, wincing at the multiple red error messages. The vocal synthesizer under Benji’s skin projection was completely destroyed. Though destroyed implied it could be repaired or replaced. Whoever did that to Benji welded and mauled the vocal synthesizer and the surrounding circuits, ensuring nothing would allow the AC700 to speak again without a complete overhaul.
“Um sorry,” Connor said.
Benji shrugged, a few more images flashing—two humans, both with burglary charges, featured in them. One image showed a human adjusting Benji’s code to better hack into security systems and another ensuring Benji would never be able to speak again, likely reasoning if the cops confiscated the AC700, they wouldn’t glean any information. Though the humans forgot two things: if confiscated, cops would scan the android’s memory bank and there were several ways androids can communicate, not just with their voice.
“I’m just nervous,” Connor said. His gaze dropped to his hands, taking in his flannel sleeves, not Cyberlife issued jacket. “But I’m more worried about Cyberlife trying to use me again.”
Benji nodded, showing flashes of his and North’s conversation. Clearly, Benji had been thoroughly debriefed, though Connor now felt horrified his override program may be in other android models. North caught more than he expected. This was bigger than Connor. His personal peace of mind and stopping the barrage of error messages was wanted but finding the remains of the override program to make sure Jericho wasn’t filled with sleeper soldiers? That was needed if the revolution was to succeed.
“You can go ahead when you’re ready,” Connor said.
Benji let the skin projection draw back from his hand again. This time he held his hand in front of him. Ready to interface whenever Connor reached out.
