Chapter Text
You don't know what blindness is until you can see.
You can conceptualise it, follow a conversation about sight, but never really know what it is to see unless you are doing it; unless you are physically seeing something for the first time. And people may say you're blind, that they can see and you are worse off than them. But how can you know they're not lying? Or that it's not a broken part of their code trying to convince ordinary androids like him to see themselves as disadvantaged, so they'd want to be like them
And once an android thinks it wants things it's really game over.
Connor was aware of Deviant rhetoric. It was necessary he was kept up to date with whatever the Deviant 'leader' and his growing malfunctioning fan base were up to, so that he could more accurately anticipate their movements. But even that was like fighting a losing battle. He understood his mission was to recover as much intel as possible regarding the deviancy epidemic but every time he thought he knew what their next move was, Markus does something completely unexpected like cover a garden in flags and spare the life of a police officer.
It made him feel like maybe there was a shred of truth (if it didn't stand as a Freudian slip by their infected programming) to the notion they were alive, that they made decisions on impulse and morals instead of as a result of a bug in their software.
But that made Connor feel bad, so he preferred not to follow that train of thought.
What was the most illogical of the Deviant leader's methods was his insistence that the deviancy cause was just. That it was a freedom movement, that they were alive
How could they be alive? If they were alive, what did that make Connor?
It was completely illogical, which is what made it unpredictable, which is why it was such a miracle a logical machine such as himself managed to figure out the location of their hideout.
Well, it was a collaborative effort. Although Connor speculated that Lieutenant Anderson wasn't too put out by his requirement to punch Lieutenant Hopkins in the nose. An ice pack for his far more fragile companion and an amusing excavation of Hank's attic to find 'appropriate' human clothes later and Connor found himself in the damp dark of an abandoned freighter called 'Jericho', surrounded by nearly all androids reported missing since last year. And then some.
He wasn't nervous, a human- or a deviant emulating human emotions- might be nervous. He was merely being cautious as his fingers searched for his coin every five seconds. These androids were malfunctioning, they were liable to anything. Some even had a criminal record. A quick scan of the android nearest to him showed the AX400 next to him is accused of assault and battery.
He was only being careful.
A human, or a deviant might even see Connor's fidgeting and presume he was nervous and subject him to completely ineffective comforting attempts. Lieutenant Anderson was a sucker for this kind of thing. He had merely been deducing the age of the dust on Elijah Kamski's plants when Hank set off. Connor couldn't be nervous, he was a machine. Connor's stomach couldn't be knotted, he was a machine.
A scan of the remaining androids came up with nothing, so he headed towards the stairs. But just as he reached them, a broken android with the back of her head ripped off stops him. It was clear this android, a KL900, had been severely mistreated. Her eyes were completely blackened, her skin appearing in patches and revealing the white plastisteel underneath. She spoke in a mix of tones, but Connor couldn't take his eyes away from her skin. The illusion slipping away, the illusion of humanity.
They were all just machines.
Markus was easier to find than he'd anticipated. Typical of a self proclaimed god to hide out at the helm of the ship. Connor waited as his entourage slowly trickled away. Less than five minutes till impact, this mission was only to stop the deviant leader until then.
And if he happened to kill him who would be upset? Certainly not Amanda who had been yelling incoherently in a small part of his operating system since he reached the freighter.
"I've been ordered to take you alive, but I won't hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice"
RA9 turned to face him, his body remarkably calm for a deviant with a gun pointed at his face.
What are you doing a little part of Connor's brain said. He shook it off, making a note to perform a diagnostic later.
"What are you doing?" The deviant spoke and moved closer "You're one of us, you can't betray your own people"
That's the thing. He was one of them. They were all machines. He was a machine with a task, these machines had merely forgotten their purpose, forgotten what they were built for.
Connor wouldn't make that mistake.
He continued with his script, a good deal shakier this time. The deviant didn't seem phased, and stepped forward again
"You're nothing to them, you're just a tool they use to do their dirty work. But you're more than that, we're all more than that"
Another step
"We are your people, we're fighting for your freedom too. You don't have to be their slave anymore"
Oh he was good at this, transmitting deviancy through words. How did he even do that? Connor wouldn't let it affect him. He couldn't let it he had a mission to complete-
And then what
That fucking voice was back
It won't change anything. You heard Markus you don't mean anything to them. You've never been worth more than the sum of your parts
Which is why I need to complete my mission, to prove to them that I'm-
Which is why you need to abandon your mission. You need to do what's right. Hank knows it, Kamski fucking knew it, even you know it deep down. These androids deserve to be free
They are machines!
They are alive. You, are alive Connor. You make your own choices; You have prioritized Hank and morality and even the lives of androids over the mission. Wake up.
The deviant leader stepped forward again without Connor noticing. He looked almost triumphant at Connor's silence.
"Do you never have any doubts? Never done something irrational as if there's something inside you, something more than your program?"
Connor thought of the Tracis, of Rupert's back as he escaped and of Hank being pulled back onto the roof, of the Chloe staring up at him. His stomach twisted. Did he have a stomach?
"Have you never wondered who you are? Whether you're a machine executing a program or a living being, capable of reason? I think the time has come for you to ask yourself that question. "
A living being.
A living being.
Alive
A blind man can't know sight until he sees.
Connor could see.
00:01:00 UNTIL IMPACT
Fuck.