The Synthetic Era

The Digital Officer

Sigh. It was always raining when they weren't around. Granted, it was actually just raining all the time, but you only really noticed when they weren't with you.

The neon lights of the bar district reflected in the puddles around the plaza, colors swirling and blending as the raindrops hit. It makes you feel slightly dizzy, so you look up instead. A quiet rumble of thunder rolls in the distance, signalling more rain to come. You sigh again and stare down at your coffee, the cream swirling quietly.

You always waited in this cafe for their shift to end, and it was the waiting that was the worst part. Time in this station didn't mean a whole lot, but it still passed, nonetheless.

In addition, he was far later than normal. You sigh again and bring you coffee to your lips.

The door to the cafe swings open, bell jingling merrily. Glancing over, you almost drop your cup.

A large ANDRO model police bot steps inside, having to turn slightly sideways to allow his shoulders through the door and duck to avoid hitting his head. He's huge and bulky, strongly built to be intimidating to criminals, and wearing a dark blue Station Police uniform that barely contains him.

Huge and intimidating to some, but more than familiar to you.

"Andros, what the hell happened?" You rush over to him, examining the synth bandage covering his upper arm.

He looks down at you, rubbing the back of his metal head, his facial display showing an embarrassed string of green data. You put your hand on your hip and point to the table you'd just vacated.

"GO. You'd better have a good explanation for this."

His shoulders sag slightly, and he dutifully marches over to take the seat opposite of yours. He squeezes into the seat, and it creaks menacingly under his weight. You sigh as you sit down; he was really too big to use normal humanoid-sized chairs. You glance up at him, and see the worried strings of data crossing his display.

"You're thinking out loud again," you say quietly, and the display blanks abruptly.

You calmly take a sip of your coffee and set it carefully down on the table.

"Okay, I'd like you to tell me exactly what happened, with no omissions, please."

He looks up at you, and a yellow question mark appears on his display.

"Yes, the whole story. And don't worry, I'm not going to scold you," you say, and his display brightens to blue. "Yet." His display blanks and his shoulders sag.

With the equivalent of a robotic sigh, he begins to explain things, via text display on his visor and through sign language. It's something he's learned to do to help convey emotion to others, but you don't need the extra help; you know him well enough. But he does it when he's nervous, so you pay close attention as the words and signs are displayed. You fidget with your data chip necklace as he explains.

After a moment, you can feel yourself getting more and more angry by the second. When he finally stops, you're actually shaking slightly. He notices and leans away from the table, hands up in a surrendering gesture and a red exclamation mark on his display.

"You...total...idiotic...MORON OF A HEAP OF SCRAP!" You yell, leaning over the table and smacking at him as he tries to lean away from you.

"What were you thinking running into fire like that? You could have gotten scrapped, and then where would I be? You have got... to... to start analyzing... the... the situation... more..." You fall back into your seat, suddenly exhausted. He stands and comes around the table, kneeling beside you and placing a hand each on your forehead and wrist. You glance over to see yellow data streaming across his face.