Chapter Text
“And so, you see: the Patrick Springs murder has to be linked to the Lydia Springs case! What I believe is that Lydia was kidnapped as leverage against Patrick and that the murder was just an extension of the Lydia case!” Dirk excitedly ran his eyes across his files. Ooh! He loved making new connections! “So, what do you think?”
“I am afraid I don’t understand the question.”
And all at once, Dirk deflated. The energy left him, dripping out of his muscles as his shoulders fell and he leant back against the wall.
“But if there is anything I can assist you with, Mr Gently, I am here to help.”
A sorry sight, Dirk thought. A man who is so entirely alone he’s talking to a synth. Specifically, ‘Todd’, a bellhop synth at the Perriman Grand Hotel. The same hotel where Patrick Springs was shot three times in the chest just 23 and half hours ago. The same hotel Lydia Springs had been last seen in. The same hotel that Patrick had paid for Dirk to stay in after he hired Dirk to investigate Lydia’s disappearance.
“No, no, that’s fine, Todd, sorry.” And now apologising to a robot! Well, technically an artificially-intelligent humanoid. A Persona Synthetic. Stronger, faster, more efficient than a human. And incapable of harming them, even when hacked.
Todd was kind of a strange name for this type of synth. Other than personal synths owned by a family, most synths just had a designation; ‘Hester’, ‘Walter’, sometimes just a few letters or a number. But Dirk had talked to every synth in this building over the week he’d stayed here and each one had a different name. Different accent too. Probably to imitate real humans. Dirk liked talking to this one though. He seemed less overwhelmingly perfect than the other synths. And he had a nice voice.
He really needed to make some friends. Or find an assistant that actually sticks around for more than a fortnight.
“It’s a shame you can’t be my assistant, Todd. I’m sure you’d do a great job!” Dirk flicked his eyes over the synth to see his eyes closed, back straight. Clearly downloading a new update; Dirk’s words were wasted (not that Todd would’ve understood him anyway). He made a small discontented noise and turned to return to his room.
He paused upon hearing the synthetic boot-up noise. Todd’s eyes opened then flashed from clear blue to the bright, unnatural green of bonded synthetic eyes.
Gasping like he was choking, hyperventilating, like suddenly the air he breathed was no longer sufficient, Todd shook, clutching the sleeve of Dirk’s yellow jacket.
This was not normal.
Todd shouldn’t even be touching him, let alone clutching him in a way that could cause him pain. What’s the procedure when a synth malfunctions? Oh yes! Dirk reached out, intending on pushing the power down button on the underside of his chin-
Todd opened his eyes. Infinite new sensory data was dumped into his processors – his mind – in a split second. Processing digital commands, sensory data and coding and electrical signals looping around his body to absolute confusion in less than the length of a breath; too much all at once. It was like his mind suddenly collapsed into consciousness. He’s scared, he thinks (that’s new on both accounts). And then the man in front of him – Mr Dirk Gently, floor 4, room 406, paid for by Mr Patrick Springs, now deceased, his panicked mind supplies – is reaching out to him. A synth can process data faster than a human, and even now in his first ever panic attack (if that was what he was experiencing), Todd could interpret Mr Gently’s move before the man could complete it.
“No!”
Dirk faltered. And Todd used the hesitation to push him away. Stumbling a little, Dirk broke into hyperventilation. This shouldn’t be happening, this shouldn’t be happening, this can’t be happening…! Todd’s eyes were darting around the lobby (thankfully emptier than usual, but they were still starting to earn stares), and then very softly he stumbled out a broken phrase, “What’s…what’s, er, hap-happening?”
Dirk paused, thrown off for a second. This is…something new. Dirk very gently wrapped his fingers around the synth’s wrist. “I don’t know, I really don’t know, but you’re doing everything you shouldn’t be doing. I…” If he took Todd to the manager, it was certain Todd would be terminated. “Come with me, I can help you. You’re panicking too much though, I’m panicking too much, so I’ll need to power you down until we leave. Could you trust me, Todd?”
Todd seemed more than a little hesitant, not really willing to trust him at all. And who could blame him? But he made the choice out of desperation; a small dip of Todd’s head, but assent all the same. Dirk pressed the pad of his thumb under Todd’s chin and watched his eyes close and head fall, catching him as his body went limp.
Dirk dragged Todd through the lobby, sending a little-more-than-a-little nervous smile to the others in the lobby and tried to slow down his breathing. Technically, Dirk thought as he passed through the doors, this is stealing…but it’s also the only way to save Todd. And if Dirk’s hunch is correct – and they often were – then Todd was definitely something worth saving.
Eventually they reached a small alley, which Dirk pulled Todd into. The synth was getting heavy, and his car was still parked someway down the street. He powered up Todd again. “See,” he smiled at the synth as his eyes opened. “Okay, I can’t carry you any further, but it’s not too much distance to my car, just pretend you’re a normal, fully-functioning synth. Think you can do that?”
“My systems are fully operational, Dirk.” Came the level-voiced, well-postured response.
“Good.” Dirk grinned.
And for the first time ever, Todd let himself smile.