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̷N̷I̷N̷E
Rain slicked the air, slicked the storefronts, slicked the pavement at her feet.
Elodie had forgotten her umbrella in the car but wasn't about to ask for Hank to unlock it. She stood beneath the awning of the convenience store, arms to chest, hair stuck to her temple, reeds of seaweed. Nearby, Hank probed the scene's responding officer as Connor stood still as a statue beside the car. Thin droplets of water rolled down it's flat features, face expressionless, eyes closed.
She chewed on her bottom lip, anxiety nipping at her heels. Who was to say that Connor wasn't reporting back about the malware to Cyberlife. Could she really trust an android to lie? Maybe it wasn't strictly lying, but 'withholding the truth' wasn't an improvement beyond an attempt to appease her conscience. Perhaps it wasn't Connor she should be worrying about but herself. Her phone burned a hole through her pocket. She should call Elijah, because he would have the answer.
But her gut resisted. Usually she wouldn't care that Elijah possessed more knowledge than she did, but normality was a forgone concept. Elodie's hand stayed where it was, drifting loose in the flecked breeze.
"What are you going to do with those two?"
The comment roused her. She recognised the speaker from the previous night, wideset and soft eyed, his grey hair slicked back where Hank's hung limp.
"I'm not sure yet. Drinks are on me when I figure that one out."
Well, that was more cordial than she'd expected. Hank strode over just as Connor's eyes fluttered open. In spite of her worst fears, no sirens blared, no mechanical announcement to make a spectacle of her shame. Instead there was a signal, a nod, and the slightest of flickers behind the android's mechanical gaze. It seemed to say 'don't worry, your secret's safe'. She had no choice but to take it at face value.
"Took a little nap?" Hank said.
"Androids don't sleep," Connor replied.
"Yeah, because if they did, eggheads would've invented electric sheep already, huh."
Hank paused for affect but when neither laughed, he let out a frustrated huff and glared at Elodie, as if somehow this was her fault. It wasn't as though she hadn't understood the joke. In fact, it had given her a strange buzzing sensation, like a pinch to the synapses. Elodie brushed the sensation aside. There were more important things to focus on than an ancient novel.
