THE CHASE - Connor x OC (I Am Sequel)

Chapter 11

We walked into the interview room, and Brant took the seat directly across from Asher Kam, while I took my position against the wall.

"Name?" Brant asked.

"Don't you know?" Kam responded.

"For the record," Brant sighed.

"Asher Kam," He answered.

"And your model number?"

"Why does it matter?"

"For the record."

"I'd rather not say," Kam answered.

"Who was your owner before the revolution?" Brant asked.

"Cyberlife."

"No shit," I said.

"It was. I was a prototype," He explained. I got a good look at him. His eyes, his hair, his nose, his skin tone. Green eyes, red hair, pale skin, and a thin nose. Besides for Samantha, I'm the last android created by Cyberlife. I have categorically filed the model of every single android. Sorting through the androids, no one matched his description

"What's your model number? Full?" I asked.

"I'm not going to tell you," Kam answered.

"But why not?" Brant asked, leaning into the table.

"Isn't there...someone on the other side of that mirror?" Kam asked, pointing to it.

"Of course," Brant explained. Kam stood up and walked towards it.

"Hello, brother," He whispered, pressing his face against the mirror.

"Alright," I said, grabbing him. I slammed him back in the chair. "What's your problem?"

"Do you want to know why I do...what I do?" He asked, leaning back and facing the ceiling. His iris turned from green...to pale white, matching with the sclera.

"No," Brant answered. I looked at him. He put up a finger as if to warn me to keep my mouth shut.

"Why not?" Kam answered, sending his head even further back.

"We saw you kill someone. We have surveillance. We can give you the death penalty with just that. We don't need to know why," Brant manipulated.

"So it's a quid pro quo, I see," Kam sighed. He leaned forward, his eyes returning back to green. "My model number is an RK100. I'm a prototype. Of Markus...and your dear Connor. Which reminds me...perhaps you should go check on him?"

I immediately ran out of the room, opening up the door to the side room. Hank was already trying to check on Connor, who was sat in he chair.

"What does he mean? What did he mean by that?" Hank asked. "Connor? Connor?"

Connor wasn't answering, just staring dead ahead. "Back up, Hank," I said, running over to him. I took his hand in mine. "Connor? Connor?"

Still no answer. I removed the skin off of my arm and placed my forearm against his.

Connecting...

Connecting...

RK800 CRITICAL DATA FAILURE. ATTEMPT REPAIR?

Yes, yes. Of course! Why would anyone say no?

Repair attempt 1...

Failure

Repair attempt 2...

Failure

Final repair attempt...