SENTIENT

Anticipate

"The important thing is that you trust your guts and instincts because it's the most powerful tool you have," AJ answered one of the students during an interview session with the Criminology Faculty of Michigan University.

Another student raised their hand to propose another question, this time in regards to indications that allowed Connor to finally pinpoint the living area of the Blueblood Ripper.

"If you'd excuse me," AJ said, leaving Connor to answer this one alone.

She walked towards the door of the conference hall, where somebody had waited for her outside. His bionic eye rotated and whirred. He said, "There she is."

"There he is!" AJ exclaimed after seeing Sumo the first time in weeks. The huge St. Bernard wagged his fluffy tail unmenacingly. She rubbed his furry cheeks and said, "I bet he can't wait to see Connor again."

"How's the guy holding up?" Dr. Galloway asked.

"I'll have to check back in," she turned to see him from the distance. "You never know what could happen inside that head."

"That's good, you both need each other," he said.

"You've come to give your blessing?" She teased.

"No, I've come to tell you this," he coughed. "There's been an opening."

The Deviants Behavior Analysis Unit has been re-opened by the FBI Academy in Philadelphia, supported by the FBI Headquarters at Quantico. For now, they're operating under a minimum budget – just enough for the Senate to be informed of new breakthroughs and theories on the scientific research of deviant behaviors. Studies that will help anticipate these deviants before they could even kill. Reduce the crime rates and make the cities safer.

"Our allowance's a little tight, but we could really use your help," he said.

"You'll give me leeway to get into the FBI?"

Dr. Galloway laughed nervously, "Just try it out. Who knows?"

In AJ's mind, a man of his dedication and expertise has more to offer the world than spring cleaning his solitude cabin. She smiled, looking into the great friend she found in Dr. Galloway. Her eyes fluttered away. They were attracted towards Connor again.

She considered one thing, "I'll send in my application, only if he can apply too."

The doctor was glad to hear it, "That's great 'cause I was already dreading about writing to CyberLife."

They laughed.

In the end, the department saved their reputation. The mayor of Detroit gained back the public's trust, but the fear and the insecurity that lingers from an eerie case of deviant serial killer became the catalyst of the FBI's re-opening of the Deviants Behavior Analysis Unit.

Dr. Angelo Galloway was the foremost expert presented at the trial to bring forward the necessity of prioritizing imprisonment than destruction – especially for deviants that could be useful for the research purposes of the DBAU.

They hugged each other. Glad to make it out alive.

"I'll see you around." The man said for the last time before retreating back to his cabin in the middle of nowhere.

-

Sometimes when he's reading, the images he pictured inside of his head comes alive and he will stop before it gets too vivid. It only helps if somebody was there to distract him.

Connor read from the book of Consider Phlebas, "The drone supporting the floating stretcher babbled briefly in a tongue Balveda couldn't recognize, its voice echoing down the tunnel; then it fell silent."

AJ could not fall sleep to such a dreadful ending. The story told of a secret agent who fought in the middle of a waging war between two humanoid races to retrieve something of value.

"That's it? He's just dead?" She said, rising her head from Connor's lap as she lays on the sofa by the fireplace.

"He's not 'just' dead. He sacrificed himself for the greater good," Connor argued.

She was not in the mood to argue, so she leaned in to kiss him. That'll usually shut him up. When she pulled away, he burst into a bashful smile. He asked, "What was that for?"

"It doesn't have to be for something," she said. She looked into his eyes. The blues seemed still. Not a ripple in sight.

She told the truth, "I just wanted to know if you're feeling fine. It's hard to tell sometimes."

He kissed her back. He wanted to know too. "I think I'm fine tonight."

"If you're fine, do you think you could drive me?"

"Sure. Where to?"

She held his hand on top of the shifting gear. They drove really slow without the GPS. She knew where they were headed, he just didn't know if he was ready for what was next.

There's a community center about ten miles outside of Detroit. It was not just any community. It was funded by government and spared from the budget cuts of the health system in the past few years.

The security post buzzed open for AJ's license plate. On the gates was the title of the facility in metal-welded fonts. It said 'Solace Recovery Center for Veterans'.

When the old man said, "I fired at them... like silhouettes. I didn't... didn't realize... they were real people. I thought they were just... targets."

Hank felt chills down his spine. Growing up, his parents taught him not to hurt people. When somebody dies, it was detrimental. When somebody dies, somebody else felt their pain. They needed that person in their life.

The moderator gently rubbed the old man's back, he said, "You're doing very well this week, Leonard. Thank you for sharing."

The old man nodded and hung back his head down.

"Anyone else have anything to share? What about you, Hank?"

Hank looked up and away from the blast of his past. He shook his head at first, but the moderator who has been doing this for years, knew something was in there.

Then, Hank began to stutter, "I... I killed a man... last month... for real this time. He wasn't a criminal making a run... or a target... he was somebody I knew. Somebody I trusted."

As he spoke, he was not only telling his story, he was reliving it. In his mind, he had already killed seven FBI agents. He killed Connor too.

"I already killed him once... before..."

The moderator asked, "What do you mean, Hank?"

"He died because of me. When I left... after the bombing incident... somehow, he got into drinking. Shot himself with my revolver... in my house. He died."

The moderator knew he was speaking of his android partner.

"It was all my fault..." Hank's voice dissolved into nothing.

"Hank, thank you for sharing with us tonight," said the moderator. He spoke slow and patiently, "I'd like to remind everyone that this is a safe space. Each of our existence matters, and in the absence of someone else's existence, we need to hold onto that even more."

After the session ended, the moderator wheeled Hank into his unit. He traced the hallway in his silence. He couldn't wait for solitude. Maybe one day, this will all end for good.

Instead of wheeling Hank into his unit, the moderator wheeled him into the guest area where Connor and AJ were waiting. "I forgot to tell you, Hank, you've got visitors tonight. Think you're up for it?"

Hank was silent. His concentration shifted back and forth until he realized this was reality and that was really Connor standing there.

"It's alright if you're not up for it tonight, Hank."

When he saw that uniform, he broke down. Pretending it doesn't hurt only hurts him more this whole time. It was a reunion that mended both of their wounds and she was glad to be there to witness.

As the two men came together to catch up, AJ excused herself to make a phone call outside. "Hi, mom. What do you think about Philadelphia?"