November 12th, 2038 - 12:54 PM

By the end of the journey, Dennis almost wished their special travel privileges had been revoked. Standing at the back of the bus might have been degrading for models of their (dubious) stature- compared to that, sitting wedged into an armchair-style seat wasn't any more pleasant, but it was useless to rue any of it at this point, like insisting on taking the window seat in spite of irrelevant comfort. HIs partner squinted and placed a hand on the glass to see further out the window in anticipation of what their first glimpse of Detroit would entail. Thus far, the rolling expanses of countryside —field after field of unharvested late season corn— had yet to give way to congested metropolitan sprawl. Nick sighed and turned back to him in disappointment.

"How much longer? Why is it so far? I didn't know it would take so long."

Such questions were unsuspicious to the rest of the tour bus' human group, but exhausting to have to answer ten times over. Instead of responding with his usual weariness, Dennis skimmed ahead to the next news article on his tablet, slouched down in his seat with his elbows bowed and his ankle crossed over one knee. He cut enough of a surly image he hadn't been bothered by other passengers looking for small talk, though his covert attire helped throw off suspicion. In his Michigan State Wolverines hoodie, blue jeans, and ski cap crammed down over his brow, Dennis looked like just another lazeabout young adult catching the bus back to the city. He'd even left the laces of his boots untied to better help sell the idea.

With every lazy turn the bus made they swayed one way, then the other. Dennis ran through a few possible responses before he opted for a casual nudge of his toe against his partner's knee. This might have been a bearable arrangement, if only he would quit fidgeting every five minutes.

"You lookin' for a distraction, or you want the same answer I've been givin' you the last five hours?"

Nick knocked his knee against his in rebuttal as he continued to look out the window, then turned and leaned back toward him, eyes wide under an old Detroit Tigers ball cap. "I'm just curious! It's been so long since we've been home… how much longer 'till we get there?"

The tablet in Dennis' hands updated in real time: a few mentions of road accidents that had waylaid everyday commuters at several junctions along I-75, interrupted his reading with a few annoying pop up banners that he swiped away after reading. "An hour, provided the traffic doesn't logjam between here and there," he replied, then paused to take a sideways glance at his partner's leg jittering up and down like a piston. Dennis recalled that had been their third's plan to eat up the few hundred miles between Dayton and Detroit, but four hours in, Nick had recharged all he could will himself to. Now he was brimming with nervous energy he couldn't work off, as always. Good plan, bad result.

"What happened to sleeping your way back?"

Nick reached to fuss with one of the arms of his windbreaker jacket and fidgeted in his seat. His leg stopped for a moment. "I tried that, but I'm not- tired anymore. We're going so slow… Too slow. Can't they go any faster? When will we actually be in the city?"

"Soon enough," Dennis replied, and dialed back the exasperation in his tone to spare them both the aggravation. Whether or not the delays could be helped didn't stop Nick from whining about it anyway. There was no sense in getting annoyed.

Dennis glanced back and around at their company, most of whom were either asleep or too engrossed with their mobile electronics to notice, and made one slight tug at the ski cap. His LED dimmed beneath it, but he needn't chance someone noticing the faint glow. As he opened the wireless communication channel between them, he reverted back to their usual banter: Don't whine so much, you'll draw attention to us. Their press coverage was still minimal as of yet, and most photos tended to consist of only one of their three faces. The odds they'd be outed were minimal, but it was still attention they didn't need. And you know Zero could use the recharge.

Nick twisted around and directed a too-obvious glance at their dozing primary seated a few rows back on the opposite side of the aisle. The RK800 (formerly known as "Connor") faked a nap, head tilted back against the cushy headrest with a smart-looking cap pulled down over his eyes.

Okay, okay, fine… I'll stay quiet, the anxious Android agreed as he settled back into his seat, then propped his chin up in the palm of his hand as he frowned at the floor

You're fussing more than the three-year-old in Row E. Dennis nodded to illustrate his point, directed a raised brow to the child in question, and rubbed at his eyes. I know you don't like long rides anywhere. But you know why we're being recalled, right?

He had explained it. Whether or not Nick had been listening was another matter entirely.

His partner leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms as he re-accessed the data, and remained quiet just long enough to formulate an answer. Yes… we're going back to Detroit to- uhm… help with something.

Nick never had possessed the longest attention span of their trio…

Capacity for learning meant human mannerisms could easily sneak their way into all the machine-like tics that came with being an android, but they still needed to be tempered. Dennis shut his eyes before the urge to roll them got the better of him. Even if it was the perfect moment to indulge one, he refrained from exhibiting any deviant-centric behaviors, lest he give Amanda another reason to add a new tally his behavioral report.

Yes. We're going to help determine where Illuminate has been operating. Zero's redundancy twin is a whisker away from rooting out their base of operations, and he could use some backup closing the net.

The long and the short of it, as described by Amanda, wasn't that their time around the Midwest had been a complete waste, but now that they were in the know about Zero's "other half", it stood to reason that they'd been sent out of the city to keep from overlapping on DCPD cases. Her patronizing reassurance did nothing to calm the faux bubbling of anxiety in Dennis' lines, however; in fact it had done the opposite by seeding the suspicion of irrelevance. He was simply better than Nick at concealing what he felt, as much as he wasn't supposed to.

Nick bypassed the information that they were being sent to help uncover the largest connection that would help them prevent a deviancy uprising, and immediately went for the acknowledgement of Zero's twin. Instead of skeptical, he was genuinely earnest to embrace the notion of a lost 'relative'. The prospect didn't scare him at all.

Oh, yes, I knew that. I can't wait to meet him! I wonder if they look different... you know, so we can tell them apart? I wouldn't want to confuse one for the other.

Dennis scoffed and twitched his crossed-over ankle to purge some of the subdued restless energy. That's hardly our biggest concern. This isn't a social call, it's for the good of the mission. He may not have always liked being the anchor of their group, but someone had to be.

I know, I'm just excited. The wait is making me anxious… Nick trailed off as he took a hopeless look out the window again, then realized what he should have said and turned back to Dennis. A-and to get started on the mission, of course.

With a slow, careless blink and a small sigh, Dennis cleared the news article he was no longer one-hundred percent focused on reading, just as a green mileage sign flashed by. Toledo, Monroe… then Detroit- all potential deviancy hotspots.

Depending on what kind of network Illuminate had established, they could have connections everywhere. Thirteen months was a long time for roots to spread. Even if they had only been dispatched to try and round up stragglers, sending three deviant hunters after an unquantifiable number of deviant Androids across several States was a slapdash attempt at containing the phenomenon, at best. Deviants were as varied and widespread as the humans they took after.

Dennis doubted he and his partners would have been able to see so much of the Midwest any other way, though. Mission parameters raised no red flags against lingering on a rooftop a few minutes longer than necessary to watch the sunrise over a foggy Lake Eerie, or peer through a fence to appreciate the teamwork of two dozen grade schoolers playing a round of baseball after class- or study the diligence with which a monarch butterfly moved from one milkweed plant to the next, carrying out its natural function as a pollinator against all odds, natural or otherwise. That instance in particular, Dennis remembered having to stop and remind Nick it was time to leave. The garage in the middle of that bough harbored no deviants, just a wild assortment of insects. He would have been successful, too, if the damn butterfly hadn't thought to land on his partner's wrist.

Nick had gone completely still as soon as it landed, letting out a breathy gasp and donning a wide-eyed stare. "Look, Dennis, look- wait, don't come close, you'll scare it off!"

Which was how the presumed in-out inspection job turned into a thirty minute ordeal of tagging along after a ziggy little monarch. Even after flitting away, its new fan put his android abilities to use, sprinting after and tracking it like a fox chasing a hare. Dennis had followed only to ensure no harm befell their third, while Zero went alone to determine the deviant's next most likely hiding place. They returned to find Zero standing idle outside the tool shed, while a recovery team from the nearest Cyberlife depot tazed and loaded the exposed fugitive up for transport.

That had been three months ago- now here they were on the cusp of winter, headed back to Detroit to take part in a far more important manhunt. Colder temperatures were already leaving flecks of frost on the Greyhound's curvy windows. It was strangely foreboding.

But there wouldn't be any butterflies this time, or so he'd hoped.

November 12th, 2038 - 03:37 PM

The Rosa Parks terminal wasn't the first stop their bus made within the city limits. On the off chance they had been noted by prying eyes between Dayton and Detroit, they had been instructed to disembark at random.

This counted as such.

They didn't need to step off as a group, but months on the road together only served to reinforce the invisible tethers- where Zero went, Nick and Dennis would follow. If he asked them to wait, they would. If he ordered them not to speak to anyone, they wouldn't. Anyone who wasn't law enforcement or related to an active case weren't to be extensively interacted with-

Which was why the moment two parka-wearing children darted out of the crowd and tripped Zero up was so unexpected. Z's nostrils flared as he barely sidestepped quickly enough to get out of their way, and a hand shot out to brace himself against the side of the idling bus.

"Sorry, mister!"

Amidst more carefree giggles, they wove back into the crowd, right back to their parents' sides. After being cooped up on a bus for god only knows how long, it wasn't any surprise a kid's first instinct would be to run amok at the first opportunity. With his disguise intact and his cover no worse for wear, Zero returned his focus to locating the subspace storage compartments running the length of the vehicle, and entered the six digit code Cyberlife had forwarded. A panel slid back to reveal a black gym bag, right where they said it would be. All that remained now was to get to Central Station.

They could have summoned a taxi, but with the chill of winter rolling in on the heels of November (cool and breezy, tempered with city smog), it wasn't unbearable. In contrast to the stuffy interior of a tour bus, one might even call it refreshing; besides, it would do them good to walk, to stave off freezing joints. They had an itinerary, but not an expected time of arrival. Hiking the last leg of the journey to the station didn't go against any pre-existing orders, and it would give them time to acclimate to their urban surroundings. Zero shouldered the bag by pulling the bandolier-style strap over his head, then grabbed the brim of his cap and gave it a firm downward tug. Underneath, his LED flickered and spun up.

Would you two mind walking from here on?

Nick looked around at their new surroundings and nodded absent-mindedly, not at all realizing that he looked like a star struck tourist in a less-than star-studded city. Oblivious to this as ever, he straightened up and focused with a gleeful smile. Yeah, I'd like that! Just look how nice it is. The bus ride was so long… and the station isn't that far.

'Nice', Dennis scoffed over the line as he cinched up his for-show knapsack and led the way out of the boarding area under the iconic inverted-umbrella, funnel-shaped tensile canopy. They kept at least an arm's reach from each other as they wove into the crowd, but stayed within each others' line-of-sight. Sticking close together was the best possible formation if they wanted to avoid being sidetracked. Don't go getting too used to it, Nick. You said the same thing about Chicago, before that breeze almost knocked you off the DuSable.

I didn't know it would be so strong, Nick protested in defense, sounding half-embarrassed by the mention of the event. It was as close to an infamous public screw up as they had yet known. The smile dropped. I know now, I won't do that again. At least not when it's windy.

Just stay away from the river, you should be fine. Detroit only has one.

That she did. Wide and noticeable as it was, an expanse of sky and sea was all that separated the states from Canada. But beyond that to the southeast, past the assortment of towers and the even-further faraway silhouette of Windsor, a lattice-covered spire shaped like a speartip pierced the horizon as if it were threading a needle through the clouds. Zero had glimpsed it as the bus rode the elevated interstate. Now, his brown eyes subconsciously scanned the urban skyline for it as it crossed his mind once more, as if he owed it at least one fervent glance for being the closest thing to 'home' most androids knew. Even if it said place wasn't for him, there was the illusion of disdain in looking at it. Knowing what he did about their excommunication from its shadow, he wasn't in any hurry to lay eyes on CyberLife Tower again. Why should it feel familiar, or welcoming, when they hadn't even had enough time to get attached to the sight of it?

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, but before he could let it fester, he turned and fell into step with the other two.