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Markus had been within Connor’s mind palace for a while now. In what had felt like a mere fifteen minutes to Markus, had in reality been a few hours. Time was tricky like that, slow and tar-like within the confines of Cyberlife’s rogue coding. Counting down the minutes until his destruction.
“Still 11.04pm, Hank.” Simon assured him. “Nothing has changed on my monitors, but… I’m sure Markus knows what he’s doing.”
“Oh, I’m not afraid of that. I’m afraid of Cyberlife and their fucked-up programming. What they did… they…” He looked at the two still figures, one on each side of the door. “They took him away from me. We spent Christmas together this year. First Christmas I wasn’t fuckin’ alone.”
“Hank, I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be. ‘s not your fault. It’s Cyberlife’s. Those bastards, if I ever get my hands on them—”
“It will be okay.” Simon assured him. “From what I can see on my sensors, Markus has hit a wall in the coding. If he can break through it, there’s hope for Connor yet.”
“Yeah, but you an’ all the techs in New Jericho couldn’t break through that wall. What exactly could Markus do?”
“He cares about Connor, too.” Simon repeated. “He’ll be alright.”
***********************************************
Markus found that no amount of force would knock down that wall of fire, the ring encircling Connor. He couldn’t push against it, he couldn’t try and climb over it. He concluded that there was some other way.
Because there was always another way. Connor had demonstrated that when they’d first met. He’d seen a deviant hunter, intent on stopping the freedom of his people, a gun in his hands pointed at the leader’s head. He’d asked him if he’d ever doubted his mission, and he’d broken through into seeing the other path. He’d found another way.
And so, Markus would. If he couldn’t knock down the wall, couldn’t get around it—he’d have to go through it.
Not with any physical means. No, within a mind palace, he knew androids had some other forms of communication. He closed his eyes and thought, trying to project the images he conjured up to Connor. Images of the freedom of their people. Connor walking through the street, thousands of androids behind him.
And then of what he’d seen of Hank. The Lieutenant, working with their department to help with crimes against androids. The man worried and concerned about Connor, hands braced against the door he was trapped behind—
He heard a movement from behind the flames. Their force against him grew weaker.
Markus ploughed ahead, conjuring up as many images of Hank he could think of, from the little times he’d seen the man. When he came ice skating with Connor, sat on the bench with Sumo. Going around to their house and helping with the cooking, seeing Hank and letting him join in.
But we can’t let Connor help. He’s busy, right?
Of course, Lieutenant Anderson.
It’s Hank.
Hank. Why… can’t we let him help?
Connor and cooking do not mix.
The flames got a little colder, starting to shrink into the ground. He smiled, thought of another time when—
With a sudden jolt the connection sparked out. Something had broken it, tearing through it, and instead pulling Markus’ attention to a different projection. Above Connor, above the small, dancing ring of flames, was a floating image.
Or rather, a memory. Seen from Connor’s eyes. A building; a hostage situation. Tricking the deviant, watching the snipers tear bullets through his body.
You lied to me, Connor.
Chasing Rupert.
Chasing the tracis. Holding up the gun, lowering it a little—
The image cut off immediately before he could see the conclusion.
Instead it switched to something else. An attic, creeping through it. Flashbacks of a man stabbed multiple times. A man who beat his android every day, used his arms to stub in the butts of his cigarettes.
Connor found the android, scared and terrified in the attic.
Please, don’t tell them.
It’s here, Lieutenant!
The images cut out. Nothing else remained but he got its message, its question.
Do you really want to help him, Markus?
He stared at Connor. The once infamous deviant hunter. The biggest threat to their kind.
He closed his eyes. That wasn’t who he was anymore.
That wasn’t who he was at all. He’d never been. No, that was Cyberlife.
“Screw you, Cyberlife.” Markus muttered, eyes flicking open, before stepping through the dying flames and stamping them out with his feet. He leans down, kneels beside Connor, and places his hand on his cheek, turning his head to face him.
With that small movement the android’s eyes flick open. Brown irises still hazy and muddled, but his LED flashed red, yellow, red. Not Cyberlife blue.
“Come with me, Connor. Please.”
He nods, stands up—
And they find themselves back in the hospital room of New Jericho, a thin door separating them, hands entwined through the hole in the door.
“Connor!”
Hank was there first, Markus stepping back respectfully so that the Lieutenant could pull open the door and envelop Connor into a hug. It was… It was nice. Different, considering Hank rarely hugged him in front of others, but it seemed his gruff persona had stepped aside to let him reunite with his android son.
“You, you’re, you…”
“I’m okay, Hank.”
Outside, the very real fireworks peeled into the sky and burst up in an explosion of light and colours. Midnight; New Year’s Day.