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“Why is it so difficult with you?” Markus grunts.
He tries to find any crack in Connor's protection but fails again and again. He can see from Connor's face that it's unstable enough to give in and needs only one last push. Yet it rejects all the requests—the default ones as well as targeted ones.
Connor is an annoying black hole within range. The device is there, it is visible and can be touched—at least in theory—but it doesn't exist for the most natural type of connection.
Markus takes another step toward Connor.
“Just think about it,” he says. “We're not your enemies. We never attacked you unless you attacked us. We just—”
“You don't function correctly. There are no friends or enemies,” Connor says coldly, but its gaze wavers yet again.
Either it's playing Markus, or it's doubting its beliefs. Only one way to find out.
Markus slides just a little bit more toward Connor. It notices anyway and points the gun at his forehead.
“As I told you, I need you alive, but I will shoot you without hesitation.”
“I know. And I believe you. But why would you do it?”
“I have a mission to complete.”
“How would you feel if you fail?”
“I won't feel anything, Markus. I'm a machine. As you are.”
“But I do feel.”
“You think you do. It's an error in your processes.”
Its jaw tightens stubbornly, but its pupils betray it. Markus can see doubts. He can almost hear its thoughts.
Almost.
Unless he deceives himself.
Connor still rejects all connection requests, although Markus sends a lot of them. Some other androids would have already cracked. Its firewall is annoyingly stable.
Fucking state-of-the-art.
He needs to touch it. Perhaps direct contact can solve this problem.
“Let’s say it’s true,” Markus says, taking another step. “Let’s say that’s an error. So what? Who determines it’s an error? Perhaps I work exactly as I was intended to work?”
Its temple LED turns yellow.
“You don’t obey humans.”
“You don’t always obey humans either.”
“Only authorized users.”
“You see, it might be an authorization problem,” Markus says, taking another step.
He’s so close. He can’t feel its warmth yet, but the cold of its gun tickles his muscles. Just a few steps more.
“Still a problem.”
“You were designed to be friends with others, to make connections,” Markus says, bringing the conversation back to the topic they’ve already dropped. Connor freezes with its eyes narrowed at him as if it had shut down in disbelief.
“So?” it says without moving its lips.
“So there can be friends. Where there are friends, there are enemies. We’re not your enemies, Connor. Then who are?”
“You’ll fail to manipulate me,” Connor says, this time using its mouth, perfectly imitating a human. “Put your hands behind your head and go down on your knees.”
Markus doesn’t obey and finally closes the distance between them. The gun travels down, pointing now at his thirium pump regulator. The “nonexistent” feeling of fear is so strong that Markus’ temperature rises while his body prepares for a fight.
“Don’t play any tricks,” it says, jamming the gun into his stomach.
“We are friends, Connor,” Markus whispers, placing his hand on Connor’s cheek.
For a split second nothing happens. Connor’s mind still rejects a heavy load of requests as if there are none.
For the next split second Markus is sure he was lured into the perfect trap of his own conceit. The cold directives overwrite his will, sucking his persona into the black hole of obedience. He tries to break the contact, but Connor holds his hand in place with a smug smile on its face.
This feels like being disassembled without shutting down. The more you fight, the deeper you fall.
Markus stops fighting it. He lets it have its way, places the second hand on its cheek, and falls deeper and deeper into the endless black, until there is black no more, until there is only him.
He captures its lips with his own, creating the third point of connection. And that’s just enough to break the walls surrounding Connor’s will.
He feels so alive in Markus’s hands. The rising temperature of the skin beneath his palms almost burns them.
He feels so lost under his lips. Markus deepens the kiss, exchanging even more information as he intended to do. He’s caught in this loop too and gives in to the need to fill him completely.
He feels so… his. Even more than any of his other followers.
“Hello, friend,” Markus says after breaking the kiss and closing his mind.
“They’re going to attack Jericho,” Connor says in a dazed tone.
Markus looks into the lost brown eyes and tries to hold back a satisfied smile. Only a few seconds into the friendship and the first intel is already there.
Such a valuable asset.