"Lieutenant Anderson, my name is Connor. I'm the android sent by CyberLife."
Connor paused for a millisecond. The bar was uncomfortably quiet. Connor wasn't too surprised. The four bars before it had had similar responses to the android intrusion. It didn't matter. He had found who he was looking for.
The bar setting was a novelty for Connor. The dingy tables and low-volume TV were new sensory triggers. He was sure the sense of smell would have added much to the scene before him, but he was not designed for smell. Instead, any imagination of scents had to be conjured from a sample analysis of the air. This air carried mainly particles of alcohol, sweat, and traces of mold. Still, it intrigued Connor.
Hank Anderson was, to Connor's surprise, very hostile toward the android. Connor had known that some humans didn't like androids, but the detective didn't appear to have been affected by the unemployment rates, nor had he ever owned an android as far as Connor was aware. He logged the animosity in his queue of minor inquiries to be made and moved on. Perhaps it was just the intrusion that the detective didn't like.
Connor tried to move away from the topic of androids after Anderson threatened to crush him. He didn't quite understand the Lieutenant's apathy towards the case, even if perhaps Connor had given a bad impression of himself to the detective. It was unexpected to have to use his negotiation processes for this, yet here he was, buying the Lieutenant a drink in order to convince him to comply. It was the obvious choice to make. If you want someone to give you something, you have to give them something in return.
It seemed to be successful. Connor watched the man finish the entire drink at once, hardly affected, and turn to him. "Did you say homicide?"
Connor was wary about letting the Lieutenant drive after having such a sudden and large intake of alcohol, but before he could determine what to say, Anderson was in the car. Connor got into the passenger seat tentatively and wished he had asked if the Lieutenant was sober enough to drive. It was too late now. He glanced over at the man and tried for a friendly smile. It was unfortunately unsuccessful in helping the situation.
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Hank was going to have a few choice words with Jeff tomorrow, that was for damn sure. What the hell kind of sick game was he playing, sending a plastic after him? Maybe Jeff was hoping to rehabilitate him again. He had gone years without a steady partner, yet Jeff always tried to tack a new one to him. Said it would help him connect to people again or some bullshit.
Hank looked over at the thing. It was staring dead-eyed out the front window. Jeff didn't know shit if he thought this thing would help him connect to anything.
A small crowd had gathered in front of the crime scene. Hank flicked on his lights and maneuvered through the people to a parking spot. The android seemed to have sensed they were here; it was looking around now. Maybe it would stay in the car.
"Whatever you say, Lieutenant."
Good. At least he won't have to babysit the thing while he tries to do his job. Hank managed to get all the way to Ben before the android was causing him grief again. Looks like he wasn't going to get rid of it that easily. Christ...
The scene played out like about a hundred other cases he had worked. Victim attacks perp, perp retaliates, victim gets what's coming with interest. Hank didn't need much more than a debrief and a good look around to see that.
Connor on the other hand was sniffing around like an excited pup in a new home. It picked things up, crawled around, even licked things, much to the disgust of Hank. Finally, it trotted over, satisfied with itself for having figured out what had happened.
Hank was impressed when it managed to find the deviant following invisible traces, though. The wonders of technology, apparently. None of them had even thought to check the attic. Most murderers didn't sit around for three fucking weeks after killing someone. At least, not human murderers.
By the time they got back to the office, it was 11pm. Hank wished he could go home, but interrogation came first. He was even more pissed to see officer Reed was still here.
"Been a while since I've seen you outside a bar at this hour." He smirked as Hank walked past. "Pigs start flying?"
"Go to hell." Hank flipped him off as he brought the android to the interrogation room.
Behind him he could hear Connor giving his sales pitch to Reed. He knew that wasn't going to go over well. Reed was a fucking idiot. No matter how many times he got his paycheck docked, he couldn't stop himself from fucking with the machines for the hell of it.
Hank helped cuff the gone-to-shit looking android to the table, then went back out to see Connor on the ground, Reed standing over him threateningly.
"Hey, asshole, stop fucking around. I wanna get the hell outta here."
Both assholes looked at him.
"Coming, Lieutenant." Connor stood up and slipped past Reed as if he hadn't just been laid flat by the detective.
They compiled a quick file together, discussed the case a little more, then went into the observation room. Reed was there, of fucking course. Always ready to butt in on cases he wasn't involved with.
Hank pushed Connor into the room. "Stay this time, or I'll turn you into a fucking microwave."
Connor took a second to think about this. "None of my biocomponents are compatible with the current models of microwaves."
"Christ..."
Hank just left it at that. It wasn't worth the effort to talk to the damn thing. Just a machine taking orders. A fucking stupid machine at that.
Hank wasn't a bad interrogator. He was, however, half drunk, tired, pissed, and asking a fucked up machine why it had thought murder was a good way to pass the fucking time. He didn't spend long before he gave up.
Connor wasn't that much better. The android did have one trick up its sleeve, though.
"I accessed its memory. I know what happened."
"I wish we could do that with all the suspects who didn't wanna talk." Chris chuckled as he headed to put the broken android into a holding cell.
The next few seconds went by in a flash. The deviant was destroying itself, then suddenly it had a gun. Next thing Hank knew, Connor's robot brains were on the wall and the deviant was eating lead.
Hank knew an incident report was in order, but it was hitting midnight and he was nowhere fucking near drunk enough to deal with any more. Jeff could bitch about it all he wanted to tomorrow.
"Fuck this. I'm going home."
He ignored the looks from the other officers and left them to take care of the clean up.
