With Civil Hearts and Hands: A DHB Story

Chapter 11: Assist

Connor shoved through the crowd, working his way toward Clara. She shot him a panicked look as she moved toward him. The man beside her caught her around the waist, then pushed her up against the wall.

"Clara!" Connor called her name, breaking through the edge of the crowd.

Something hot flared inside him as he watched the man force her to stay still and kissed her. Clara scratched and clawed and pushed, but her efforts had no effect on the man. Finally, Connor reached them. He heard the man mutter something, but he couldn't hear it over the pulsing music. He gripped the man's shoulder, then pulled hard, sending the man stumbling against the barstools. Connor placed himself protectively in front of Clara as he analyzed the situation. He could hear Clara breathing heavily behind him. She'd slipped down the wall and was now slumped on the floor as if in shock. Connor's analysis software triggered, but as before, he received no information. He turned away, instead looking at the man who'd assaulted her.

The man had returned to his feet and had one arm folded across his chest while he wiped his lips with the other hand. Connor scanned him, looking for clues, and several bits of information stood out. First, this man wasn't human. He was another RK800, like Connor. He was out of uniform and missing the identifying markers for an android, including the LED. His lips were stained red with something that identified itself as a mixture of lipstick and blood. Clara's blood.

Rage flooded Connor, and he surged at the other android, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. "What did you do?"

The RK800 just smiled. "You shouldn't have left her alone."

Connor felt his body tremble, and he slammed the RK800 against the bar counter, knocking over several glasses and startling the android bartender, who signaled to a bouncer on the other side of the room. The other RK800 grabbed Connor's hands, then kicked at his knee as he broke Connor's grip and sent him off balance. He shoved Connor off, then took a couple steps back, straightening his collar. Connor moved to grab him again, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to see Clara looking up at him, blue eyes teary and pleading.

"Let him go." Her voice was hushed and trembling. "We've drawn enough attention." Blood oozed from a small cut on her lip as she spoke.

The sight caused something hot and burning to well up inside him. He pulled away from her, intending to confront the other RK800 again, but when he turned back, the other RK800 was gone. As Connor scanned the room, he watched him disappear into the crowd in the main area, where he'd be nearly impossible to find again.

Connor turned back to Clara, deflating. "Are you okay?" He stepped close, tilting her chin up as he looked at the bleeding cut on her lip.

She nodded. "I'm fine." She grabbed his hand. "Thank you."

Connor nodded, then looked around again. The altercation with the other RK800 had drawn the attention of several other patrons. Their curious eyes watched, sending alarm through Connor. They needed to leave before they drew further attention. He tugged her hand, pulling her away, and they made their way back out through the crowd and to the door. No one tried to stop them as they left, and before long, they were back at Connor's car.

Connor opened the back passenger door for Clara, gesturing for her to sit. She climbed in without a word, and Connor moved around to the other side. He opened the driver's door, programming in the desired location, before climbing in the other side of the back seat. As he settled, he saw that Clara had removed her mask and was tapping and fidgeting nervously with her hands. Connor analyzed her again, and this time, he was flooded with information. Her heartrate was elevated, her breathing jagged, and her stress levels were higher than he'd ever seen them. She trembled slightly as she stared down at her lap, completely silent.