Connor was almost at the station when Anderson texted him an address. With it was an order.
"Ben called. Wanted help. Meet me here."
Connor stopped the taxi and put in the new coordinates. It was halfway across Detroit. He hoped Anderson had texted him before he had arrived at the address, but he couldn't tell. It was still a half hour drive. He hated to think they would be waiting for him.
The time to himself with nothing to do was somewhat unnerving. Connor messed with his coin and allowed himself to analyze the events at Kamski's. Why had Kamski ordered him to shoot her, anyway? He had told Connor he would have to choose if she was a living being or a machine, but Connor didn't have that kind of right to begin with. He could only simulate opinions. They had to be confirmed by someone else before they could be taken as valid. He could only go off what he had already been told, and that was that machines weren't alive.
It was annoying that his relationship with Anderson often got worse the more he tried to accomplish his goals. Connor didn't understand why the inconsistency was there to begin with. They were on the same side, with the same goals. Why was Anderson always upset with him for trying to focus on those goals?
He could understand with Rupert. Anderson had been scared, and rightly so. He would have died on the slim chance he did fall off that roof. Connor hadn't thought about the emotional part of that, it had all been in the moment.
But he had made the better decision in Stratford tower, and had saved Hank. Once he came back, however, Hank had basically interrogated him and still been mad by the end. That mission had been a failure simply due to Connor's broken hardware, however. Maybe something had happened there that Connor couldn't remember.
It was odd to think of him not remembering everything. All the way back from the first test that was ever run on this model, a simple walk from one line to another, Connor could replay any point of his life with almost perfect accuracy. That one weekend was the exception. He didn't have any idea what he had been doing at some points. For all he knew, he might have done something that had angered Anderson.
No matter how hard he tried to work with the man, it just seemed to get worse and worse. Sometimes Hank treated him like an equal, other times he treated him like something worth less than dirt. It all depended on what Connor had recently done to upset him.
Connor leaned his head against the window. He didn't know what he should be doing differently, or even if there was anything that could be done. He thought about asking Amanda, but she would likely tell him that it didn't matter and he should focus on the case. It was easy in theory, but so much more difficult when your partner was leaving you behind and pointing guns at your head. It was frustrating, and Connor hated it.
The taxi finally pulled up to a big old house. Anderson and Ben were talking on the front porch, but when Connor joined them, Anderson stopped talking. He was still angry, apparently. Connor remained neutral.
"I'm sorry for the delay. Hopefully you weren't waiting long."
Ben didn't seem to notice Anderson's animosity. He answered cheerfully. "It's alright. Hank just got here a minute ago. Thanks for coming on such short notice, I figured this case would be better with an android."
"Why d'ya say that?" Anderson asked as they walked into the house.
Ben looked disturbed. "Let's just say it's not pretty. We'll get to that, though."
They headed all the way through the house and into the back yard. A body had been there. Connor looked around and found several points of interest. Several pairs of shuffling feet, a shotgun that had been fired and not cleaned, and Thirium residue.
