Connor peered through the one-way window of the interrogation room, running a scan on the suspect who sat slumped in his chair, staring blankly at the wall. Eyes narrowed in concentration, his LED flashed yellow as he processed the information that appeared.

MODEL VS400 -

Waiter

Serial #: 241 719 126

Status: Detained — possible homicide suspect

Grainy video footage of the crime captured by a drone flying overhead and spatters of Thirium led Hank and Connor to where the suspect currently worked, a rundown diner in a sketchy part of town. The manager had put up a fuss, not wanting to be short staffed for the evening shift. He swore up and down that the suspect would never be capable of whatever he was accused of, that he was kind and hardworking. Regardless, Hank and Connor had a warrant and the suspect had no choice but to follow them out of the restaurant. At least he came peacefully.

Once they arrived at the station, they frogmarched him, restrained, past the bullpen and into an interrogation room. Hank would have offered him some water, but the suspect was an android and had no need for it. He told him that they would be right back. And then promptly let him simmer for a couple of hours. The idea was to make the suspect feel as isolated as possible, to let him stew in his own thoughts and let his imagination think the worst. Hank got lunch to kill time. Connor blazed through some paperwork.

When they returned to the interrogation room, they found the suspect slumped over, hands balled into tense fists. Defeat etched all over his face. It appeared Hank's strategy had the desired effect. Game plan time. Hank nudged Connor with his elbow.

"How do you wanna do this?" Hank asked.

"Androids are my area of expertise, Lieutenant. Considering I can monitor stress levels, I believe I can extract a confession. I suggest you leave it to me."

"Go nuts," Hank replied, gesturing to the door. "But be careful in there. I don't feel like scrubbing your fucking Thirium off the walls." He anxiously thought back to the last time Connor interrogated a suspect, an android that belonged to Carlos Ortiz. He had been too aggressive and ended up with a bullet in his head. Post android revolution, there would be no reincarnation for Connor, no way of coming back. If he died…

Hank shook his head, pushing the thoughts away.

"Got it, Lieutenant. I'll take extra care."

Connor pushed the hand sensor and the door slid open. He walked in quietly, his face neutral. He flipped through the evidence folder, labeled with the name "Hunter" in bold letters, scanning the police reports and studying black and white photos taken of the victim. Satisfied, he sat opposite the suspect, unblinkingly maintaining eye contact. The suspect seemed to shirk away, his eyes darting towards the floor.

STRESS LEVELS TOO LOW

38%

"My name is Connor and I'm an investigator with the DPD. Your name is Hunter?"

Hunter nodded mutely, his eyes trained on a fixed spot.

Connor remained calm. "Do you know why you were brought here?"

Hunter pursed his lips, remaining perfectly still.

"Homicide," Connor continued. He laid a photo of the victim in front of him. The victim lay lifeless on the ground, vacant eyes staring up, angry purple welts around his throat. His bottom lip was split, nose broken to the point of being unrecognizable. Dried blood caked his lips and chin.

"A human." Connor continued. "He was found strangled. There were signs of a struggle and Thirium was found on his knuckles. Thirium traced back to you."

STRESS LEVELS RISING

43%

"What would your Thirium be doing at the crime scene?"

Hunter tensed but refused to speak. His LED flashed between yellow and red.

STRESS LEVELS RISING

47%

His stress levels aren't rising high enough. I need to change tactics.

Connor narrowed his eyes and frowned, shoving the photo at Hunter. He rose and stalked towards him, laying his hands on the table.

"His name was Will Morris. He was married 15 years. a father of three." His voice rose, taking on an angry inflection. "He was strangled and his face beaten beyond recognition." Connor slammed his hands hard on the table, making Hunter jolt. "Now who would commit such a senseless act?"

Hunter ground his teeth. He was visibly shaking, his hands clenched in tight fists.

STRESS LEVELS RISING

51%

Conner was unsatisfied. He leaned in closer, inches away from the suspect's face.

"But," he paused, "He was also known for anti-android sentiment on social media. He wrote all kinds of hate speech, ranting about incinerating and recycling androids, tearing them apart piece by piece. He was once arrested for aggravated assault against an android." He looked pointedly at Hunter. "Did he provoke you? Is that why you lost control and murdered him?"

Hunter refused to crack. Connor sighed irritably and sat back down. His voice became steely.

"I do not want to resort to this, but if you refuse to cooperate, I'll be forced to probe your memory."

At that, Hunter looked up and glared defiantly, offering up an arm. For the first time, he spoke.

"Go on then. I'd like to see you try."

Connor's eyebrows furrowed with suspicion. That was unexpected. He thought back to the android that belonged to Carlos Ortiz, how he had begged him not to probe his memory when threatened. He refused to bluff now. Connor reached out and grabbed Hunter's arm, activating the channels necessary to begin the probe. As the portal in his mind opened, he was blinded by a sudden flash of white light. Lurching back in his seat, he realized with a sick sense of urgency that Hunter had someone managed to reverse the process and was now probing his memories. Connor found himself powerless to stop it.

Jimmy's bar. Hank scowled as Connor unceremoniously dumped his drink all over the bar. The bartender grumbled under his breath, grabbing a rag to clean up the mess. "Wonders of technology. They can even program assholes these days."

Slumped over, Connor blinked involuntarily, eyes rolled in the back of his head. His LED was violent red. He gurgled, unable to speak.

The interrogation room. The android was hysterical, but Connor was relentless. He slammed his hands on the desk, needling him. "He was bleeding. Begging you for mercy. But you stabbed him again and again and again." The android begged him to stop. "Please… leave me alone."

Connor grabbed him by the collar and shook him, yelling in his face. "Just say you killed him. JUST SAY IT."

A confession was extracted then and there.

Moments later, meaty thumps could be heard from the same interrogation room. The android was bashing his head in. Thirium everywhere. Officers tried to restrain him. Connor tried to intervene. Snatching a gun from an officer's holster, the android shot him squarely between the eyes, then turned the gun on himself. Hank shuddered, look positively traumatized. "Holy shit!"

Connor was actively struggling now, trying to fight back against the invasive probe. "Stop," he rasped through gritted teeth. He thought he heard the door slide open, someone's raising his voice with concern. It was like listening to a conversation underwater. He was unable to make out a single word.

The rooftop. Hank struck Connor across the face, hard enough to whip his head back. He had pursued a deviant named Rupert rather than saving Hank, who was dangling from a ledge. "You bastard! You saw I was gonna fall and you would rather let me die than fail your fucking mission! What am I to you? A statistic? A zero? A one in your fucking program?"

Connor responded meekly. "I understand you're upset. Perhaps I didn't assess—"

"Fuck you and your fucking assessment!"

I should have saved him. I should have saved him.

Burning with guilt, Connor relived every shameful memory in vivid detail. He tried to will it to stop. He could feel someoneyanking at Hunter's arm, trying to pry his fingers off. Hunter maintained a vise-like grip, refusing to let go.

"Hank," he called out weakly.

A snowy zen garden. Connor shivered, icy wind whipping through his hair. Amanda smirked at him.

"You were compromised and became deviant." She said. "We just had to wait for the right time to resume control your software."

He panicked, stammering. "Resume control? Y-You can't do that!"

She was merciless. "Don't have any regrets. You did what you were designed to do. You accomplished your mission."

Stumbling through the snow, Connor began searching for a way out.

Connor began to groan, feeling totally exposed. "Stop."

The platform. Markus was giving a rousing speech in front of throngs of cheering androids. Helpless to stop, Connor drew a gun from his back pocket, aiming it at the back of Markus' head.
In the zen garden, he was growing frantic. He saw a glowing blue light and stumbled towards it. He had to reach it in time.

No more, he thought. No more. He hadn't told a single person what he had almost done. Shame welled up in his chest.

"ENOUGH!" With a burst of strength, Connor ripped his arm away and the connection was severed. His Thirium pump was pounding, his breath ragged. Blaring alarms rang in his ears. Synthetic synapses in his brain short-circuited and glaring red errors flashed in front of his face. Hank was shaking his shoulders, trying to say something. Connor couldn't understand. He just couldn't. His vision became staticky and then everything turned black.