Pavlov's Dog

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November 9th, 2038
PM 02:17:23

Courage didn't come easily as you approached the sheet-metal doors, housing Simon's body like a coffin at a public showing.

His LED was mute, save for the paced pulsing that indicated a peaceful slumber.  The blue light illuminated the cramped space, washing Connor's face in deep shadows and pulling it back into darkness when it faded out.  Tiny rings of reflection would highlight his pupils only for them to dim afterwards.

He hummed under his breath, "He must have gone into stasis mode as a means of self-preservation."

"Is he a threat?" Captain Allen asked from the opening.

"Not unless he wakes up unrestrained."

"Easiest problem we'll solve all day." Allen's helmet pointed at a pair of his squad mates, and he nodded at the opening, "Lastimosa - cuff it and put it downstairs with the rest of 'em."

"Yes, sir."  The woman slung her rifle and hopped up, her boots shuttering the steel floor as they hit.

Hank shook his head, kicking at the snow with his arms crossed, "Leave him alone for two seconds and he pulls the entire SWAT team into some goddamn manhunt..."

"Aren't we all on a manhunt?"  You sighed, painfully remembering your encounter with Markus; the woman he called North, and the other man who you had yet to identify.

"Yeah, for operational androids, not one that decided to take a nap."

"He is not 'taking a nap,' Lieutenant." Connor stepped out of Lastimosa's way, "He is preventing further damage to his systems by implementing a forced, temporary shutdown."

"Same shit, Connor."

"On the contrary."

Lastimosa rolled Simon on his stomach; the threading and click of circular teeth leading the electronic hum of her magnetized pair of cuffs.  Her boots disappeared under a layer of snow as she jumped down, and she leaned inside to drag the carcass towards her.

"Specialist Lastimosa, may I be of assistance?" Connor offered.

"Nope.  Got it covered."

"Are you positive-"

She hoisted the body over her shoulder, taking a step back to distribute the weight.

Hank uncrossed his arms, mouth dropping, "What the fuck?"

"Cybernetic limbs." She adjusted the corpse, and started towards the rooftop access door, "What, you think CyberLife just makes imitation humans and we don't get to reap the benefits of neural meshes and replacement limbs?"

"Uh..." You remembered a few scientists talking about the possibilities during your time in the "Tower," but it fell by the wayside to nanotechnology, "Sure?"

"Tch, listen..." She huffed, "Don't ever get your arm blown off."

She disappeared behind the door leading to the staircase.  The small group of you turned to Allen for an explanation.

"Prosthetic right arm, new pair of knees, and a metal spine to support it all." He grunted, "Blown out of a tank and sent home after being medically discharged.  Nanotech in her blood stream regulates everything, if I remember correctly."

"Fucking cyborgs..." Hank ran a hand down his face, "Because why the fuck not?"

"Hey, don't let her catch you calling her that.  She hates it." Allen took his helmet off, latching it to his hip, "Wouldn't want to piss off a Specialist with a metal arm and a bad temper, would you?"

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