SYNTHETIC [Connor/RK800]

A Window Into The Mind

Intending to immediately regroup with Lieutenant Anderson, Connor walked through the doors of the Detroit police station. However, due to the fact that he had never interacted with him here, it was impossible to know where his desk was, or where he himself was. The best course of action would be to speak to the android at the front desk. Her knowledge of the police station layout was far more extensive than his.

"Can I help you?" She asked in a pleasant voice. She was fairly pretty, with freckles and side-swept bangs.

"I'm here to see Lieutenant Anderson." Connor informed her.

"Do you have authorization?" She asked calmly.

"Yes."

Connor connected briefly with her, proving his authorization. When he was done, she spoke. "Lieutenant Anderson hasn't arrived yet, but you can wait at his desk."

Connor walked back into the bullpen, searching for Lieutenant Anderson's desk. While he waited, he decided to ask his fellow officers where he might be.

"Excuse me, do you know what time Lieutenant Anderson usually arrives?"

"Depends on where he was the night before. If we're lucky, we'll see him before noon." The officer replied, clearly unimpressed with Lieutenant Anderson's lack of punctuality. He turned back to his computer.

"Thanks." Connor replied lamely.

He decided to try calling Lieutenant Anderson. He didn't mind waiting (or really anything, for that matter), but it was inefficient and hindered his investigation. Instead of Lieutenant Anderson picking up his phone, his voicemail spoke for him.

"Hi, this is Hank. Not here at the moment. You can leave a message if that's what turns you on, but don't expect me to call back. Beep. Whatever."

His voicemail was as snarky as the man himself. "Lieutenant Anderson? This is Connor. I'm the android send by CyberLife. It's almost noon and I'm waiting for you at the office." Connor said, sending the voicemail.

In order to pass the time, Connor decided to inspect Lieutenant Anderson's desk. It might yield information about him that he wouldn't normally verbalize.

The first item to capture Connor's attention was a teal donut box. He'd seen before that Lieutenant Anderson didn't exactly respect the suggestions of the USDA.

The second item was the carcass of a Japanese Maple. It was small, not nearly as big as it could have grown. Most likely dead due to under-watering.

The third, a cup of coffee that had been cold for a very long time.

He turned his attention to the magnetic board next to the donut box. The first thing he noticed was the collection of anti-android magnets. Hanging from the corner of it was a hat with a basketball on it. Perhaps Lieutenant Anderson was a fan of basketball.

He briefly glanced at a matchbox from Jimmy's Bar before examining the group photo in front of it. It was of the Red Ice Taskforce. Lieutenant Anderson received public recognition for his many successes while working on it, including seizing $500,000 worth of Red Ice, and placing a number of high-profile dealers and suppliers in Federal prison. This mission was the reason he was promoted to Lieutenant. What could have caused him to go from that to this?

Connor analyzed the dog hair on the back of Lieutenant Anderson's computer chair. It belonged to a Saint Bernard. Probably his own. Behind the chair were many newspaper clipping detailing Lieutenant Anderson's successes.

'DETROIT POLICE DISMANTLE A NETWORK OF RED ICE DEALERS'

'DETECTIVE ANDERSON PROMOTED TO THE RANK OF LIEUTENANT'