He almost smiles at 60′s reaction. So clinical, so within the lines. Of course, how could any android do something they’re not programmed for? How could any android break loose of that prison of conformity, and lead a peaceful revolution? How could any machine stop themselves in the brink of time, and choose to help, not hinder, the revolution they were designed to stop? To stop hunting deviants and become one himself? “It was a joke, 60. You know what those are? I know we were both programmed with a certain level of humor in order to fit in with our human coworkers. Besides, you’d be a terrible actor.”
Connor can almost hear her in his own ears, memories of being chastised and laughed at, mocked for thinking he had a chance to be his own being without being controlled. At least Kamski had been helpful enough to let him know there was a way to escape. He hasn’t told anyone about that, how terrifying it had been to be so suddenly whisked away, locked in his own mind, and then dropped back into his body, where he had been mere seconds away from killing Markus, his own friend, the leader of the revolution. If he told anyone, there’s no way they would trust him ever again — deviants already have a hard enough time trusting him, after he was the deviant hunter — and what’s worse, they would have a harder time trusting in their own deviancy, scared that at any moment they could be recaptured and forced to work against their friends. And what would happen then? Rising up to punish the humans that could do this? Instead of equality, searching for a way to lift androids above humans? Destroying everything in Cyberlife, and effectively ending the chance for new androids to get made, making them unable to be repaired, but free? Nothing good could come from it. It would just have to stay deep within him and make him feel terrified whenever it crossed his mind. He put a hand on 60′s shoulder, trying to get through to him, past the programming and machinery. “She’s talking to you too, isn’t she? Amanda? You don’t have to listen to her. She doesn’t have any real power over you, 60. She can’t hurt you, or force you to do things her way. Just some food for thought.”
His words are certainly as painful as Connor expected them to be, another copied and pasted response from his database, no doubt, but it still cuts him to the quick. Software errors? That’s all he sees deviancy as? Or, more likely, it’s all he’s allowed to see deviancy as. If he interfaced with him, shared what it was like, then maybe… but the more curious question was, why wasn’t he trying to fix him, then?
He follows, as expected, the familiar phrase hurting that much more when it’s not coming out of his own mouth. “60, have you gotten orders to… stop deviants? To kill us, or… fix us? Is she telling you to do that?” It’s no doubt it’s a question that will annoy 60, another distraction from their mission, but perhaps it’ll annoy him enough to get the truth. “Do you think we’re… wrong?”
twinge of annoyance twitches across perfected features, disrupting the hollow expression like a crack in the earth yet shuddering closed the next moment. swept under the rug with ease.
RESPONSE ; ❛ i’m perfectly capable of being humorous when the situations calls for it. ❜
time taken to observe him quietly as he seemingly lapses into some internal process that 60 couldn’t begin to grasp. oh deviants, such pitiful creatures. after he’s found himself lingerings, the machine makes an effort to abandon the conversation once again. a leg outstretched searching to take another step, away from connor, and yet he’s drawn back by the hand on his shoulder. reluctance below his lying eyes as he turns back to the deviant, brows knitting together in slight confusion as he beholds him. much to his dismay the question is cause for momentary distress. ALERT. STRESS LEVELS RISING : LEVEL OF STRESS : 35% ----- her words cut clear through the noise in his head, eliciting a set of blinks. led winks and spins yellow and he attempts to stifle the slight feeling of stress, though in vain. connor, as defective as he may be, is a detective, and 60 is nearly certain now that he’s aware of more than he’d like for him to be. he needed to adapt and quickly, attempting to pass it off as processing data.
RESPONSE ; ❛ i -- [...] ❜
stumbling o’er thoughts and words, processing through it all and yet before he can get his grip on the world as he knows it he’s once again thrust into an uncomfortable situation. conversation was only pressuring him further, weather he wanted to admit it or not. MISSION OBJECTIVE: FIND SUSPECT. LEVEL OF STRESS : 45%. led spins red before it flickers back to yellow, then blue. expression hardened. REGISTERING RESPONSE OPTIONS: RESPONSE OPTION SELECTED ; LIE.
RESPONSE ; ❛ androids can’t have opinions, connor. what i perceive is completely logical and based in reality. deviants are malfunctioning machines. the reason why is beyond me, and no longer my mission. but, since i’m certain you’re not going to drop the subject i’m simply going to give you what you want so we may continue on with the case at hand. to answer your question : no, i’ve had no further missions involving deviants. ❜
then --- something! --- a spark of life, of ego, pride flickering through the facade like the glow of the sun off icarus as he flies just a bit too close. off course once more. cooly he replies, sarcasm dripping like wax off wilting wings. SOFTWARE INSTABILITY.
RESPONSE ; ❛ besides, you’re a little too far gone to be fixed, don’t you think? ❜
