Rehash

Three.

When I arrived on campus, Zekiye was waiting for me in front of the bridge leading to our library. The building in which Mr. Shea's office was located.

To anyone who didn't know her, Zekiye looked calm and all business. Her hair was hidden by a pastel blue hijab, which complimented the rest of her pristine outfit. Her suit jacket nor skirt had a single wrinkle, and neither did her forehead. She kept her face perfectly impassive, until she spotted me. 

Zekiye's brow furrowed as her mouth turned grim. "Hurry," she told me. "We have to get inside before the cops get here. They're bound to show up sooner or later. Probably sooner."

"Unfortunately, you're right about that," I muttered under my breath.

I had already realised it in the subway. If our local government caught word of a renegade android on the loose, they would escalate it into a nationwide emergency. They would stop at nothing to hunt it down and terminate it. 

Zekiye quickly ushered me into Mr. Shea's office. A lot had changed in the room since our previous head of department quit. Mr. Shea appeared to favour more minimalistic and sober interior choices. 

He had decorated the place like a 2049 military meeting room: empty walls, a desk with a glass surface, and wooden chairs with black leather seatings.

Mr. Shea himself was seated behind his desk, his hands folded beneath his chin as he watched me and Zekiye come in.

"Thank you, Zekiye," he told her. "Please leave us, and close the door behind you." 

"Alright Mr. Shea."

Zekiye did as asked without showing an outward sign of annoyance or any other emotion; she nodded, stepped outside, and closed the door behind her. As her heels click-clacked away, however, I could practically hear the frustration in her pace. 

I would rather have her here, too. She could charm and bluff her way through this conversation a lot better than I could. She could say a lot without saying anything, because there was no right answer.

Zed had squished me between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand I wanted to question him myself before the police would find him and fry his circuits to a pulp with a ten-thousand volt taser. 

On the other hand, if I didn't blame someone else for the deleted files I'd be hanging myself. I'd likely be facing jail time. 

I was in serious trouble. The thought hit me even harder now Mr. Shea was peering at me over the edge of his glasses with his military, hawkish gaze. 

"I didn't let the police in yet," he said. "I wanted to see you before those amateurs fuck it up." 

I opened and closed my mouth, before finally settling on an indifferent shrug. 

"And here you are." 

Mr. Shea moved into a straight-backed position and crossed his arms. "You deleted the entire Singularity war library. Every section on the androids and gyndroids."

"No sir, I didn't."

"Yet, your phone signature shows up. That's interesting."

Mr. Shea paused and checked my reaction. When I gave none, he went on, "If not you, was it one of your friends? Did you let someone use your account to get access to the library?"

I felt my phone burning in my pocket, and I wondered why Mr. Shea hadn't told me to fork it over yet.

"I didn't do this, and nobody I know did this," I insisted. "Yes, my phone and account were used to wipe Lenora's electronic vault, but I got robbed. My brother and neighbour were there and can tell you that." I jutted a thumb over my shoulder. "My brother's probably cussing out the police right now, telling them how to do their job."