I AM (Connor X OC) - DBH

Chapter 5: No Time

"I don't know how I'm going to put in my report 'I gave a man back his drugs' but hey...they're not going to fire me," Lance said, as we pulled out of the parking lot.

Analyzing...

Detective Lance appears to be trusting me. Am...am I doing something right? I guess I would have to be. Although...that's not my mission. I can't get distracted. We were driving when we suddenly saw at least 35 police officers, as well as Connor and the Lieutenant.

"Holy hell. What is going on down here?" Lance asked.

Updating...

"Connor is searching for a deviant...and..." I began. I had to pause though.

"I pulled my gun on her," I could hear Connor say.

"That means you're not malfunctioning, Connor," Amanda responded.

"I still think it was wrong. The look in her eyes. It was terror."

"Machines don't feel anything, Connor."

"Then maybe...she became a deviant in that moment...because of me."

"Connor, I assure you. The CR300 is not a deviant. I need you to stop thinking like that. Get back to work."

"Okay, Amanda."

"Charlotte!" Lance yelled. Suddenly, I was aware of my surroundings again.

"Sorry, Deputy," I responded.

"What in God's name just happened to you?" he asked, angrily.

"I was updating...and lagged. That's all," I lied.

I need to analyze that audio file. When did it occur? When was it uploaded?

Analyzing...

9:59am today. That was not a few minutes after the incident. I suppose he felt the need to update Amanda about it. When I go back for my session, she'll probably ask about it. I need to make it clear that it didn't bother me, or else I risk a reset.

"Don't fucking lag again! That was terrifying! Your eyes started going haywire and you weren't responding..." Lance told me.

"Again, I'm sorry, Lance."

I noticed finally that Lance was pulled over outside of the location.

"Lieutenant!" Lance called out of the car. "Any way we can help?"

The Lieutenant walked over to the window of the car. "We could always use more eyes, but I don't need another stick up my ass," he answered.

"Hey, if we help you out, you owe me a stiff drink," Lance said, opening up his car door, and getting out.

I followed. Connor immediately noticed me and walked over.

"Why are you here?" he demanded. "I don't have time for this."

I gestured to Lance. "Wherever he goes, I go."

"Well since you're here...you're going to help me," he announced.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked.

"All I know is that they were spotted in this area. You check that side of the street," Connor said, pointing to the opposite side. "Tell me if you notice anything."

"Okay," I said. I walked down to the crosswalk, and started at the motel. Searching the location, nothing seemed strange. Walking down a little further, I saw an abandoned home. Again, nothing strange. It was, when I got down to a gate and decided to peek inside that I saw a car with a broken window.

Analyzing...

No fingerprints. Items moved.

"Connor!" I called. He was down by the laundromat and started to run to where I was.

"No! Go look for them! They were here!" I yelled. He nodded and ran off in one direction. I took this as my cue to run on the parallel street and search for them. I'm not faster than Connor, so I could see him pacing me in between the alleyways.

"Charlotte!" I heard Lance calling. I could hear his footsteps behind me for a minute, but then they stopped. I kept going.

I ran the street looking for them until Connor and I both met at the train station.

"Damn it," he mumbled. "I lost them."

He looked around frustrated, but quickly dampened it. He finally just looked at me. He just stared at me.

"Connor?" I asked, confused. Was he lagging? Uploading? Updating? What?

"I'm sorry about this morning. I could see...I could tell...that it frightened you."

"It didn't frighten me..."

"It...caused you to panic. I could tell. Don't try and cover it up. I'm not worried about you being a deviant, because I understand that panic is certainly something that can occur in androids. I'm sorry that I made you feel that way."

"It's okay," I answered.

"It's not," he responded harshly.

He doesn't want to hear "it's okay." Want? No. He doesn't want. But...what does it matter anyway? This whole conversation isn't supposed to occur. It's not in our programming. So, I'll follow what I think I'm supposed to do...not what I'm being told to do.

"Connor. Thank you. Thank you for the apology. I know it must be difficult to...abandon certain protocols."

"Thank you for forgiving me," Connor answered, walking away.

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