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It was still light out as RK900 made its way down the path to the edge of the water. The sun only just started to set, which bathed a burgeoning orange light on the trees and the pond. There was a gentle breeze that rustled through the budding leaves. The cold Detroit winter gave way to a cool spring and slowly plants were starting to grow again. RK900’s scans told it that the current temperature was 48 degrees Fahrenheit, slightly warmer than the average for this time of year.
As RK900 walked along the path, it spotted a figure sitting on the ground close to the water’s edge. A scan wasn’t required to identify who it was.
The RK800 - Connor - didn’t look away from the water as RK900 came up behind him. There was no possibility that he did not notice RK900 approaching. Their scanners were similar enough that RK900 knew that Connor registered its presence as soon as they were in visual range of each other. It wasn’t as if RK900 was attempting to hide its approach.
“The water looks so calm. A liquid mirror that reflects the world around it,” Connor said, tilting his head to look up at RK900.
RK900 moved in closer, standing next to Connor rather than behind him. The wind wasn’t strong enough to disturb the surface of the water, so it appeared as if it was completely still. “Water is an imperfect medium. The slightest disturbance will distort the images that it reflects.”
Connor let out a soft sigh, such an unnecessary exhale of breath, and he picked up a rock to toss into the water. The near perfect reflection shifted around with the ripples caused by the rock. The ripples started spreading, making the area of distortion even larger. It would take a while for the water to fully settle again.
“Help me up?” Connor held out a hand.
RK900 stared down at its predecessor and quickly ran a scan. “Your components are functioning at maximum capacity. There should be no cause for my assistance.”
There was another useless sigh as Connor pushed himself off the ground and brushed his clothing off before straightening his tie. “It is a companionable request.”
“You would use such a term to describe us?” RK900 didn’t see any reason to draw such a conclusion.
“We often spend time together. I would consider it to be a friendly term. After all, you take time out of your day to join me here,” Connor said. He gave RK900 a smile and nudged him with his elbow.
RK900 looked down at its arm where Connor touched it. A quick search told RK900 that the gesture was one often seen in an attention grabbing or teasing manner. The gesture was out of place. Connor simply stated a fact, thus there was nothing teasing about it. RK900 did, inexplicably, come here to spend time with Connor, but the basis of these visits were more of the observational kind where RK900 could study its predecessor.
It didn’t react to the gesture, not having the capacity to even sense the actual touch, filing it as yet another unnecessary action attributed to Connor. “You are aware of the purpose of my presence here.”
“That I am, RK900…” Connor trailed off and took a few steps away from RK900. “Tell me, what observations have you made note of this time?”
“Nonessential gestures list has grown to include the elbow nudge and the count of sighs increased to three hundred and fifty six,” it remarked.
“How many days has it been?” Connor asked.
RK900 made a quick calculation. “It is currently March thirteenth. The time elapsed is one hundred and twenty one days.”
Connor wordlessly nodded his head as he listened to RK900. There were many idle motions in the RK800’s code that had been taken out of the RK900 series. It was logical, after all, as the RK800 series had been a prototype to test the android's capabilities before refining them for the use of RK900.
While RK900 was not without its own ‘quirks’, as Connor once dubbed them, they were often utilized in times when it came into contact with human colleagues. They spoke up many times before that they were unnerved when RK900 simply stood in parade rest around them.
“When will you come see me again?” Connor asked, his voice pitched much lower, but RK900’s audio processors easily picked up on the words.
“My next assignment should not last more than a few days. If I am permitted time, I shall return then,” RK900 replied.
Connor looked up at RK900, opening his mouth and quickly closing it again with a clack of his artificial teeth. Any words that he might have seen fit to say were lost as he turned his back to RK900 and walked away from the water’s edge to the path.
--
The sun bore down on RK900’s head as it walked down the familiar path. From its entry point, it didn’t catch sight of Connor right away. Usually its predecessor was found by the water, but it was not this time. Look around as RK900 might, it was not able to see Connor. How peculiar. Every other time that RK900 came here, Connor was always present without fail.
RK900 continued down the path around the water’s edge. It already knew that Connor would be in the area. It was simply a question of where, exactly, the other android was going to make his presence known.
“You’re here.”
It took only a moment for RK900’s audio processors to narrow down the location of the voice and its gaze turned towards a tree a little further off the path.
Sure enough, Connor was seated on one of the branches.
What would drive him up the tree, RK900 could not deduce. It was far from the water and it was surrounded by grass and other trees. The vantage point did not have any advantage to it. Still, RK900 stepped off of the path and walked over to the tree.
“You have never been in a tree before,” it said when Connor looked down at RK900.
The right corner of Connor’s mouth quirked, but didn’t fully curl up into a smile. “I haven’t tried it before. Now that the trees are in full bloom, I wondered what it would be like to be surrounded by their leaves.”
RK900 regarded Connor as he reached up and ran a finger over a leaf. “There is no logic in wondering.”
“To wonder is to be curious about something.”
“Exactly.”
Connor sighed again and RK900 added another tick to the counter. Conversations along this line had a 95% chance of Connor sighing, a pattern that RK900 was able to identify very quickly after their meetings started.
“Don’t you ever want to learn something? Out of your own volition? Look at something and just…” Connor sighed again. He reached into his pocket this time and pulled out a quarter coin. With a flick of his hand, the coin started spinning on the tip of his finger.
“Only deviants wish to learn and do things of their own volition. I need not remind you that my program was written so that deviation was impossible,” RK900 reminded Connor.
“No, I know that.” Connor flicked the coin into his other hand and deftly caught it without looking. “But… There has to be a reason you keep coming back here. You say that it’s to observe my deviant tendencies, however it could also be curiosity.”
“I self test regularly. My presence here is the same as it has ever been.” RK900’s basis for meeting with Connor would never change either. His predecessor knew fully well that nothing he could say or do would be able to alter RK900’s programming in any way.
Connor kept playing with the coin. He flicked it from hand to hand, rolling it over his fingers, and spinning it across his palm. Where it had once been a device for recalibration, the coin became a item for Connor to fidget with. RK900 had yet to conclude which simulated feeling was associated with Connor’s need to take the coin out.
Most often the coin would be pulled out when Connor’s stress levels were elevated, but there were enough times where they would be standing next to each other in silence and Connor would take the coin out as well. Connor himself was very unhelpful when RK900 made an inquiry about it. So the file on the coin was currently labelled as ‘inconclusive’.
“I used to self test as well. We both know where I ended up,” Connor eventually said.
“Yes. Currently it is up in a tree.”
The coin flipped in a slower rotation than it usually did and, as a result, it bounced off rather than slipping between Connor’s fingers and fell. RK900 held its hand out and easily caught it.
“Did… Did you just make a joke?” There was a wide smile on Connor’s face.
RK900 looked down at the coin. A quarter minted in 1994. It was highly improbable that a coin of this age would still be present in circulation, as it was almost forty-five years old. How Connor got his hands on such old currency was unknown. Likely one of the technicians had it lying around, but why not give a newer minted coin?
RK900 ceased the line of thought as Connor chuckled. “It was not a joke. Merely a declarative statement. As I said, at this moment in time, you are in a tree.”
“There is such a thing as a deadpan delivery. You’re perfect at it.”
--
Connor was actually standing in the water this time. His shoes were neatly set on the grass by the water’s edge and his jeans were rolled up. He’d waded in until the water reached mid-calf.
“Join me!” Connor waved RK900 over.
RK900 walked over, its hands held behind its back. “There is nothing in the water.”
Connor rolled his sleeves up. “You’re wrong. I’m in the water.”
“I would advise against being in the water,” RK900 said.
Instead of walking towards him, Connor winked at RK900 and waded even deeper into the water until it started lapping the the edge of his rolled up jeans. He reached down to pull them up even higher to keep going through the water.
RK900 watched for a moment before it walked back onto the path and onto the bridge. It stopped about halfway, close to where Connor was standing in the water. If its predecessor went any deeper, he would step down a sharp decline and his clothing would get needlessly wet. However, RK900 deduced that it would be better not to voice this. Based off of its observations of Connor so far, there was an 89% chance that he would keep going in an effort to spite RK900.
Neither of them would achieve anything if that happened.
“You should still join me,” Connor said. His hand was positioned over his eyes, shielding them from the sun as he peered up at RK900.
“You saying that I should is incorrect. I am under no obligation to step into the water with you.” As soon as RK900 said that, the counter in its mind automatically went up and, not a second later, a sigh came from Connor.
Connor tapped at his forehead as he narrowed his eyes at RK900. “I could order you to join me.”
RK900 frowned. Why would Connor order it to join him in the water? There was nothing there for either of them to gain. Connor was doing nothing more than standing in the water. If he ordered RK900 to join him, then they would both just be standing around.
“You could,” it acquiesced.
Another tick went up in time with another sigh. “I want you to come in the water with me, but I don’t want to order you. It isn’t right.”
RK900 was about to tell Connor that him ‘wanting’ anything wasn’t right when it received a transmission.
“You have to go again? You just got here,” Connor’s voice went up in pitch, something akin to a whine. He’d no doubt seen RK900’s LED shift to yellow when the transmission came in.
“I will return next I am able, as always.” There weren’t often times like this when RK900 could only stay for a short period of time. However, his assignments held greater importance than being here with Connor.
As RK900 walked across the bridge, Connor strode along with him. RK900 reached the path at the same time that Connor returned to the water’s edge.
Connor got onto the grass, wiping his wet feet on the grass. “Next time you should tell me about your team. Who they are. What you call each other.”
“We call each other by our ranks and designations. They do not call me anything.”
His predecessor’s brow furrowed exponentially the more RK900 said. “You’ve not been assigned a name?”
“I do not require one. I am RK900 #313 248 317 - 87.”
Connor’s shoulders dropped and he frowned. It was a picture perfect emulation of sadness. A combination of programming and deviancy no doubt facilitated that. “I’ll think of a name and next time we’ll pick one for you together.”
“That is not necessary.”
“I’m not going to keep calling you RK900.”
“You may call me by whichever name you like. However, it will not change anything.”
“It will for me.”
--
“How about Conrad?”
“As I said with the previous names, I cannot have an opinion and, as you are not an authorized user, my programming will not allow you to register a name.”
Another sigh. Another tick added to the counter.
Connor leaned against the railing of the bridge, his arms stretched out and his hands clasped together. RK900 stood next to him with his hands behind his back.
“Richard?” Connor’s eyes roamed over RK900, likely searching for an emotion or a reaction of some sort. “Niles?”
RK900 remained silent. So far Connor had listened off a few dozen names. They’d walked along the pathway before Connor came to a stop on the bridge. This was a useless exercise. Connor’s stress levels were steadily going up. It was illogical to keep going and RK900 told Connor several times, but his predecessor refused to back down.
“Nines, then? It makes sense. You’re RK900,” Connor said.
“There is a singular nine present in my serial number.” RK900 deftly took a step back when Connor shot up and threw his hands into the air, letting out a groan in artificial frustration.
“Now I know why Hank would get so frustrated with me before I deviated.” Connor rapped his hands on the railing before he took a step back and started pacing. “It really is like talking to a fridge.”
RK900 watched as Connor’s pacing became shorter and more concise. “Refrigerators have rudimentary programming at best. At the current time, I am Cyberlife’s most advanced model.”
Connor shot him a glare and turned on his heel to walk away from RK900.
Nothing productive would come out of following Connor. His irrational programming was causing him to overreact. He’d been told that nothing would come out of this, but he still persisted. In the end, it was all for nothing. Connor stomped away in a manner reminiscent of a human toddler and RK900 was left behind, once more logging more observations as it always did.
--
RK900 took note of the flowers. Currently there were seventy-three in blossom. Another eleven were still budded. This was their second bloom of the year. Soon the seasons would shift from autumn into winter and the flowers would die off until the resurgence of warmer weather in spring. Around them, the trees were already starting to change colours. Hints of yellow and orange starting to creep their way onto the leaves.
This was the first time that RK900 was able to catalogue the progression of the seasons. The scenery surrounding them was on its way to changing drastically and, eventually, it would return to winter, much like what it’d been activated in. Almost a year ago now. The passage of time hadn’t change much. RK900 still operated at full capacity, it completed its mission, and it met with its predecessor when the chance presented itself.
“I don’t like them,” Connor said beside RK900. “Maybe once… But not anymore.”
“Genus Rosa from family Rosaceae,” RK900 observed. It would have informed Connor that he was incapable of having likes and preferences, but it had done that before. Still, Connor didn't back down. Statistically RK900 calculated that no matter how often it reminded Connor of this, the odds that the RK800 would revert in his behaviour was sitting at a hundredth percentile chance.
Connor reached out, taking a petal from one of the bloomed roses between his fingers and rubbing it. “I’d destroy them if I could, Nines, but they’ll always come back no matter what I do.” His hand enveloped the rose and crushed it.
For a few meetings now, Connor had been using the inappropriately chosen name. He once explained that he’d chosen it because the name got the most differing reaction out of RK900. However, it was futile to keep referring to RK900 in such an informal manner. The name would never be registered. Another fact that Connor knew.
“You are exhibiting indications of the feeling of catharsis.” Normally RK900 would approach a situation such as this with telling Connor that this was a fault in his programming, but since that approach was deemed nonviable, RK900 selected a different one. “Do you believe that destroying the roses would provide you with a relief from your anger towards them?”
Connor looked at RK900, narrowing his eyes as he glanced over the taller android. “There is a high probability that, in doing so, I would only experience temporary catharsis. The true subject of my...ire is not present.” He let go of the rose, the petals and broken stem falling to the the ground. “I am not able to get to those who have caused this desire in me. That’s your fault. I’m here because of you.”
RK900 tilted its head to the side. It stepped in closer to Connor, setting its foot down on the ruined rose. “Placing me at fault is incorrect.”
Its predecessor looked down at RK900’s shoe. “I don’t want to see you anymore, Nines. Leave me alone.”
“Connor?”
Hands pushed hard against RK900’s chest, but it remained standing, despite the considerable force put behind the shove. “I said leave me alone!”
“Very well.” It took a few steps back and observed as Connor turned to the roses and started ripping the flowers to shreds.
---
RK900 received a message forty-nine days after the last time it met with Connor. For a brief moment there was the sensation of something welling up inside of it before the foreign feeling was quarantined.
Its predecessor knew full well that RK900 would not be able to come at a moment’s hail. That was part of the arrangement that it stipulated the first time RK900 and Connor spoke. Even if Connor was a faulty android afflicted by errors in his coding, there was no reasoning for him to expect that RK900 would appear straight away. RK900 was on a mission and would not be able to answer the call for days.
As it was, RK900 was first able to step away from its assignment five days after it received the message.
By this time, the trees were losing their leaves. A layer of foliage blanketed the ground as RK900 walked down the path. The wind blew the top most ones away as they were disturbed by its feet.
Connor was sitting on a bench, feet up on the wooden seat with his arms wrapped around his knees. When RK900 approached, its presence announced by the crunching of leaves under its feet, Connor lifted his head. “Nines!” He practically leapt up, stumbling over his own feet in his hurry.
RK900 grabbed onto Connor’s shoulders when he was close enough, but instead of straightening himself, Connor threw himself forward and wrapped his arms around RK900’s waist.
“Connor?” It asked. This was the first time its predecessor had done this. A hug, RK900’s databank told it. This was something it had never experienced before. Protocol stated that it should wrap its arms around Connor in return, but such an action expressed affection.
“I didn’t mean it!” Connor’s voice was muffled against RK900’s jacket. “Last time. I want to see you. I don’t want you to leave me alone, I swear. I thought you knew. I thought you’d come back like always, but you didn’t.”
Of course RK900 didn’t. Connor told it not to. It was an order.
An order from Connor.
An order that RK900 should not have followed. Why had it listened to Connor? A quick check resulted in what RK900 already knew. Connor was not amongst the list of authorized users.
“Nines? Your LED is yellow. Are you being called away already?” Connor shifted as to look up at RK900.
“I am not,” RK900 said. Its mouth opened, then closed. It wanted to say something else, but what? Perhaps it would be better to leave right now and run a diagnostic protocol.
Connor shifted his hand up to cup RK900’s face. His own LED flashed yellow for a moment as he frowned. “Then what’s wrong?”
“I am…” RK900 struggled to find the words, something that never really happened before. It was always prepared to answer any questions. “I am sorry. That I did not return as I normally would. You requested space.”
A smile grew on Connor’s face, eventually stretching out into a wide grin. “You’re sorry. You listened to my request. Nines, I’m...I’m so happy.”
This swinging between emotions was hard for RK900 to follow. Its social programs were not as advanced as Connor’s because it was deemed unnecessary for the line of work it was intended for. Whereas the RK800 model was designed for negotiation and integration, RK900 relied on intimidation and brute force to accomplish its mission. Out of all the people RK900 worked with or had encountered so far, it was Connor who was the most expressive and, thus, threw RK900 off balance.
“You were…” RK900 tried to think of a way to explain it without resorting to certain descriptors, but its mind was not providing any viable options. Only one choice presented itself to RK900. “Angry. You were angry at me. Through extrapolation of your words and actions, I deemed it better to stay away.”
“You deemed it better. That’s amazing, Nines. But you’re right. I am angry at you. I always will be.” Connor pulled RK900 closer, which it allowed, and he pressed their foreheads together. His grin fell away with a sigh.
Another tick. “It has been fifty-eight days since I last heard you sigh.”
A unbelieving chuckle came from Connor. “What’s your counter at now?”
“Four hundred and three,” RK900 said.
---
Connor laughed, his wide smile showing off his teeth. Slightly discoloured teeth. Not a bright white as a child’s would be, but not yellow either. A shade of off-white that bordered on the line of being ivory. An attention to detail that RK900 was not sure had been allotted to him as well. Had the Cyberlife technicians taken the time with him in the same way that they had with Connor?
It was an odd observation to make, RK900 realized that. There would be no useful information that came from it. Most, if not all, of their facial features were practically the same. RK900 had freckles, just like Connor. They were even in the exact same place. If not for the fact that they both wore such differing uniforms, then they would be nigh identical. As far as RK900 knew, the only outer features that were not the same were the colour of his eyes and how his eyebrows were positioned a fraction of an inch lower. Whereas the RK800 was designed for a more seamless integration with his open features and warm brown eyes, RK900 appeared much harsher and more stern. A fact that Connor had pointed out a few times in the past.
Differences that were so subtle that many people would no doubt completely look over them, should they not take a moment to actually take it in.
It was under their skin that the true differences were found.
RK900 was designed to be stronger and more resilient. The structure of his skeleton was built to be much more robust. Outwardly, you would never be able to tell the difference, but RK900 knew. He didn’t have to scan Connor to know the differences. They were discussed in front of him once by a pair of technicians that had originally worked on the RK800 design.
Connor leaned against RK900, looking down at their feet as they continued looping around the path. “What are you thinking about? Usually you interrupt me after a while to state a fact or make a comment about how what I’m talking about has no informational context.”
“I would not say that I was thinking about something,” RK900 said. It was merely him making observational notes about the differences between the two of them. “We are very different from one another.”
“I disagree. There are differences, of course, but none that stand out to me as distinctly dissimilar.” Connor came to a stop. “Face me.”
RK900 raised an eyebrow and shifted so he was in front of Connor.
The other android tapped his chin as his brown eyes went over RK900, all the while humming under his breath as if he were making notes to himself. Another very human-like gesture that was entirely unnecessary for him to do.
“Tell me, Nines. Do you like dogs?” Connor asked.
Out of all of the questions that Connor could have asked, RK900 would never have predicted that to even be a possibility. “Excuse me?”
“I like dogs.” Connor smiled, once again showing off his teeth. “Lieutenant Anderson has one. A Saint Bernard named Sumo. He’s a good boy.”
“I have not met any dogs,” RK900 said.
“That’s a shame. There are so many dogs out there! I have seen many from a distance, but never had the chance to meet any others. I also noticed that humans often equate each other to different breeds. Hank once called me a poodle because, at the time, he believed me to be overly prim and proper,” Connor explained.
This time it was RK900 who hummed under his breath. “I would disagree with his assessment.”
“I concur. While the poodle was initially bred as a retrieving companion to hunters, if I were to select a dog to represent myself, it would be one that was a hunter and not a retriever,” Connor said.
RK900 agreed with that statement wholeheartedly. “Yes. Based off of the breeds that were bred for the purpose of hunting, I would say that you are like a Yorkshire Terrier.”
“A Yorkshire Terrier? How so?”
“They were used to hunt rats in mines and dig the burrows of creatures such as badgers. Furthermore, they are very energetic with a boisterous personality.” RK900 watched as Connor’s confusion shifted into acceptance. The furrows of his brows lessened and his eyes shone at the comparison. “Yorkshire Terriers are also known for being, as many people would say, yappy. They bark a lot and don’t have the tendency to stop.”
Connor’s mouth fell open in shock. A disbelieving chuckle came from him as he most likely tried to come up with a retort. “Nines, I know how to stop-”
“It was a joke.”
“Huh?”
As eloquent as Connor could be, often times his social program utterly failed him. “However, the comparison remains apt.”
His predecessor stared at him for approximately seven seconds before he started laughing, even louder than before.
---
“I like the rain.”
Connor stood out on the path with his arms spread out. The rain started as they were walking together and Connor asked RK900 questions about his missions, which he wasn’t allowed to discuss. Not that Connor ever let permissions slow him down from his inquiries.
At first they both ducked under the closest tree to shield themselves from the rain, but as the pitter-patter shifted into a full on downpour, Connor stepped out from their shelter.
Yet another item that RK900 added to his list of things that Connor claimed he liked and disliked. While his predecessor spoke about both sides, it was the list of things that Connor liked that was much longer. This list was also the one that RK900 found himself pondering over most. It appeared that the list had some correlation with positive feelings in Connor. However, what could be considered positive was not quite conclusive yet.
“Come here, Nines!” Connor grabbed RK900’s and pulled him out from under the cover of the tree.
Within seconds RK900 was almost completely soaked through. His jacket was made of material that was mildly hydrophobic, but even that property wasn’t enough to hold back the downpour.
“I fail to see the enjoyment in this.” Instead, RK900 found that he compared himself to a drowned cat. His clothing felt heavy and restricting and the lock of hair on his forehead was plastered against his skin, reaching down far enough that the ends were brushing his eyelids every time he blinked.
“It’s the feeling of the rain. Each raindrop can be felt if you focus enough and turn up your sensitivity. It’s very relaxing and I haven’t felt it since…” Connor hesitated for a moment. “Since last year. You’re not in a location that has a lot of rain, are you?”
RK900 shook his head. “I am not.”
“And you can’t tell me where,” Connor said.
“I cannot,” RK900 watched as the enjoyment in Connor’s expression started to fade. “Describe to me how the rain feels. I have no sensory functions.”
Connor’s hand immediately squeezed RK900’s. They hadn’t let go of each other yet. “It’s overwhelming, but in the best way. Interface with me, Nines.”
The skin on Connor’s hand receded and RK900 almost automatically followed suit, but a command blinked in his vision, halting the process.
Avoid interface with infected deviant androids to decrease chances of further spread.
That didn’t make any sense. As part of a new feature, the RK900 series was marketed as an android that was unable to deviate. As such, a command like this would not have any reason to be implanted into his systems.
“Nines?” Connor ducked down into RK900’s vision. “You’re yellow again.”
“Nothing is the matter.” RK900 overrode the command. He was designed to never be able to deviate. Even if Connor made an attempt to infect him, RK900 was certain that he would be able to provide enough of a defense to stop it from occurring. He deactivated his skin and felt the connection of the interface.
Then the sensation of the rain splattering on his face. Except it wasn’t his face. The feeling did not correspond with the patterns of the rain on his own face. It took RK900 a moment before he realized that it was, in fact, Connor’s. The sensations were coming through as an immediate feedback from what Connor’s sensory functions picked up.
The dichotomy between what he was seeing and what he was feeling threw RK900 for a loop. For some reason it was harder to compute and put them all together. His systems weren’t fitted to deal with any sensory inputs, which must be why RK900 was having issues.
“Close your eyes, Nines,” Connor said. “Trust me.”
Of course. Connor would be able to sense feedback coming from RK900 at this point. Even with direct control, it was impossible to prevent some bleed-through of information. Closing his eyes was unlikely to have any sort of consequence, so RK900 did as Connor suggested. At first, there was no detectable difference, but then his mind focused on the information that Connor was sending through their interface.
RK900 tilted his head back as the sensation of the raindrops enveloped him.
It was peaceful in a way. Connor described it as enjoyable and relaxing at the same time and now RK900 understood. The rain was slightly cooler than their core temperatures, which made RK900 feel like he wanted to shiver.
“Nines?” Connor called out softly, tugging on his hand.
RK900 opened his eyes and gazed down at the other android. “Yes, Connor?” They were both soaked. He imagined that they looked similar at this point. The both of them completely drenched and their hair flattened by the rain; quite a sight, really.
Connor placed his free hand on RK900’s chest and pushed up.
The sensation of their lips pressing together was entirely different. The warmth and the softness juxtaposing the cold of the rain and the randomness at which the drops fell. This was constant. A gentle swell rather than a downpour.
Connor pulled back first. “I told myself I wasn’t going to do that before you deviated, but… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. You’re in no state to give me permission to do anything like this.” There was a smile on Connor’s lips, but instead of happy, this one appeared to be mournful. An expression RK900 had seen pointed towards him before.
“Connor… I cannot deviate. You know this,” RK900 said.
“But you can. Don’t you see? How you’ve been changing? You keep saying that you’re here to observe, but you’re learning more than just what it’s like for me to be deviant. You’re learning how it is for you too,” Connor insisted.
RK900 removed his hand from Connor, abruptly breaking their interface. The sensory functions ceased and RK900 was once more left with not being able to feel the rain. It was jolting. It almost rattled deeper into his core than Connor’s words. Before, he did not know what it was like, but now it was like a deeply settled numbness. The rain was still falling. RK900 could still see the drops, but the sensation was gone. He had stepped away, but RK900 felt an echo of Connor’s lips on his own.
He shook his head. “You’re wrong, Connor.”
“I’m not.” Connor held his hand out between them again. “Please.”
“No.” RK900 closed his eyes.
Next he opened them, he was still in the rain. RK900 was completely soaked. Yet he could not feel what it was like. That was a function that he would never receive again. There was no such thing for his model and he would not allow himself to interface with Connor once more. RK900 clenched his fists as he walked back towards the buildings.
Even here, he could still feel the echo of Connor lingering on him.
---
RK900 ignored all messages he received from Connor. His team was on the verge of being deployed into deeper territory. It was only a matter of time before they were shipped out as well. When that happened, it wouldn’t take long before RK900 would be in a deadzone. At that point, correspondence would be impossible. Only specialized units were retrofitted with the capability to remain in direct contact and RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 was not one of them.
He fully intended to leave the messages unanswered, but when the time came to deploy, RK900 found himself going through the multitude that Connor sent him.
Without realizing what he was doing, RK900 found himself standing on the path between the trees. Snow was falling now, covering any remaining colour still stubborn enough to cling on as the seasons changed.
“Nines!” Connor came running down the path, his arms crossed over his chest and his hands tucked in his armpits. “You’re here. I thought… Y-you weren’t replying to my messages.”
RK900 kept his arms at his sides. His scanner indicated that the temperature was starting to drop as snowflakes clung to his body. “I did not intend to send a response to them.”
“W-what do you mean?” Connor’s eyes widened.
“My team will be deployed into the arctic region soon. There will no longer be the possibility to respond to them, as I will be too far to connect with the main Cyberlife system. Instead, I will be connected to an auxillary with limited functions,” RK900 explained, watching as Connor’s eyes widened even more.
A shudder went through his predecessor. “That means...you’re leaving me here?”
“I cannot leave you here. That would insinuate that this is a location that you are able to depart from, but that is incorrect. This is the only location you exist in.” RK900 made sure to keep his eyes on Connor. If the other android tried anything, then he would be ready to react and retaliate if need be.
The shocked look transitioned into a glare. “This is the only location I exist in because of you . You were supposed to dispose of me, but instead you destroyed my body and transplanted my consciousness to this fucking garden!” Connor stomped a foot, wildly gesturing at the snow covered scenery around them.
Profanity was not the kind of language that Connor often used. RK900 linked this to anger and possibly nervousness of some sort. “While I will no longer be able to meet you here, the program and you will still remain.”
“You don’t have to go,” Connor protested. He stepped forward, stretching a hand out between them.
RK900 took a step backwards, mirroring Connor’s strides as his predecessor attempted to get closer to him. He could not allow any form of contact between them. “My orders are to remain with my troop. We will be gone for weeks, perhaps months.”
“You don’t have to.” Connor kept trying to reach out for RK900. “Nines, you can choose not to go.”
“I cannot make a choice, Connor! I am an android. Android’s do not make choices,” Nines said.
“But you did! You made the decision to put me here. You choose to keep returning to the garden to see me. You are the one that decided you were going to keep track of how many times I sighed in your presence.” Connor argued, his words spilling from him quickly in his desperation as the wind and snow picked up around them.
Their jackets started flapping in the wind and RK900 watched as Connor grabbed his and pulled it close to his body. “I will be leaving, Connor. You cannot stop this.”
Connor’s gaze hardened and his body shifted to the side.
Time slowed down. RK900’s preconstruction software calculated the different maneuvers that Connor could perform to get closer to him. The most likely option was that he would stoop down lower in an attempt to throw RK900 off balance. He was fully aware of how Connor’s own preconstruction worked, but Connor knew nothing of RK900’s, which put him at an advantage.
The world returned to normal just as Connor dug his heel into the ground to spring forward. RK900 took a few steps back as Connor pounced. His hand brushed against RK900’s jacket, but he didn’t connect, which was the most important part. After that miss, Connor stooped down, just like RK900 calculated, and it was simple to dodge out of the way of that as well.
The only thing that he wasn’t able to account for was deviant unpredictability. A completely illogical action.
Instead of grabbing on to RK900, Connor pushed himself into RK900 and pressed their lips together. His skin retracted and there was a request to interface. He didn’t push for it like RK900 thought he might.
Nothing more than the request.
“Let me in, Nines,” Connor whispered.
For RK900 the touch did not register. Without interfacing with Connor, he didn’t have access to any sensory functions. The other android knew this full well. He was betting on RK900 wanting to experience it again and allow him to complete the interface.
He almost considered it for a moment, but his mission objective pulsed red in his vision and RK900 pulled back.
Connor, for his part, actually stumbled when RK900 distanced himself and fell to the ground. He knelt down in the snow and another shudder went through him, this one making his body jerk by the intensity of it.
RK900 stood by Connor, but he made sure he was out of arm's reach.
“Please don’t go,” Connor whimpered. He looked up at RK900, his face stained with slowly freezing tears. “Nines, please.”
“Goodbye, Connor. Perhaps I will return. If not, then the both of us will be destroyed.” Even with how strong and and resilient RK900 was, there was no guarantee that he would not be taken down in combat. They locked eyes once more before RK900 turned his back to Connor and followed the path away from him.
“Nines?” Connor called out after him. “Nines! Don’t go! Don’t leave me here alone, please! Nines!”
RK900 exited the zen garden program and blinked as he returned to his physical body.
One of his commanding officers stood in front of him, shaking his shoulder. “You back in your own head, RK900? Time to get on the transport.”
“Yes. I apologize for any delay, sir. I was...making my final report to Cyberlife before we departed,” RK900 said.
“Good. Let’s get a move on, RK900.” The man turned his back and started towards the door, clearly expecting the android to follow him.
“Sir?” RK900 called out.
He stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder. “Was I not clear?”
RK900 shook his head. “You were, sir. However, it has come to my attention that our troop will be joining others that also contain an RK900 unit. If you would like, you may refer to me as Nines to differentiate me from similar models.”
The commanding officer scoffed under his breath. “I guess you make a valid point. Now, hurry up, RK- Nines. We’re heading out now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Software Instability ^^^