Ezra (New Carnegie Androids #6)

Chapter 9

[ 9 ]

Ezra

Deion and I bring up the rear of the caravan back to NCPD headquarters, keeping close watch on the cruisers ahead of us, which transport two of the four suspects. We breeze through stoplights, sirens blaring, not taking any chances.

“Should’ve listened to you, Ezra. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done. We couldn’t have anticipated this,” I reply as I go over everything I know again in my head. “We checked them. We couldn’t connect them with TerraPura.”

These thugs are brash. Their actions don’t reek of PureEarth’s usual MO—explosive androids, an obsession with destroying the human race to save the earth, ascension, playing games in the shadows. Even as I turn over every piece of evidence I’ve got—from the museum bombing, to the attempted assassination, to the hostage situation—I can’t connect the latter two to the former.

“I don’t think they’re TerraPura at all,” I tell him.

“How do you know?”

“One of the assailants called me a tin can,” I reply, arms folded across my chest. To Deion, I look at ease, pensive, perhaps. But my visual feeds behind my eyes are a constant rush of images, notes, and information. “TerraPura doesn’t do that. They treat like us gods. They call us master. Tin can—that’s something from somebody who hates androids. More akin to Humanity First than anything else. It’s just not like them.”

“I feel that,” Deion mutters. “Humanity First has been nothing but a pain in the ass. I don’t know that I buy this new idea of making peace, but I’m struggling with the motive too. TerraPura has every reason to want him dead. He’s anti-android. But Humanity First? You said only his direct family knows, as far as you can tell. Killing your anti-android leader before he’s even said he’s gonna retire, I’m struggling with that. Not everybody’s going to be happy when they learn the old man’s leaving, it’s true, but he hasn’t even made that move yet. Why would his own people try to kidnap him and the others? If someone in Humanity First wanted him dead, why not just kill him?”

“I don’t know. Something doesn’t add up.”

“Well, hopefully they feel like talking.”

“They’ll talk,” I reply stoically, barely stifling the undercurrent of anger that courses through my circuits when I return to the image of Katrina being held captive by them, being in danger. “I’ll make them talk.”

Deion doesn’t try to deter me. He just nods. “I tell you, if Robert Carson wasn’t finished in this town before with the museum bombing, he definitely is now. Nobody’s going to want to touch him or be in the same room with him.”

There’s a long pause between us. Deion glances at me. “You gonna tell me what all that was about, by the way? With Carson and Kat?”

“I knew you were going to bring that up,” I grumble.

“What can I say, I’m a predictable person,” Deion says. “Kinda looked like Daddy figured out you and Katrina might be up to something. What happened?”

“Nothing, actually.” I sigh, remaining vague simply because I can. “He just walked away.”

“You sly devil.” Deion chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s gonna be hard for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I like her. She’s nice. And I get why you noticed her, I do. But I’m not sure she has the fortitude to keep up with someone like you. This isn’t a ride-into-the-sunset gig.” He glances at me. “The precinct has their claws in you tight. You’re not going anywhere. Is she okay with that?”

“We’ve discussed it. We’re taking things slow.”

“Well, just be careful. With TerraPura and whatever the hell these clowns are rearing their ugly heads for...” He points to the cruiser ahead of us. “It’s dark times for you and me. We ain’t coming out of it any time soon.”

Reluctant, I send Katrina a message. Don’t wait up for me. This may turn into an all-nighter.

She responds within a few minutes. I know. That’s okay. Just come when you can.

Extracting a confession from the shooters is the first order of business, and much to my irritation, these particular suspects absolutely refuse to buckle under my interrogation.

I’m capable of intimidation. More than capable. I could make these little punk-ass dickheads shit themselves. Ripples of anger course through my circuitry as I slam the interrogation room door behind me. It’s never been personal like this for me before, but now it is.

They almost made off with Katrina. That’s something I can’t forgive.

The moment they grabbed her, all my professionalism, all my training, took a back seat to a rage I’ve never experienced before. I stared at them with pure unadulterated hatred for having their hands on her. For threatening her life, using her as a shield. It was the first time I ever truly wanted someone dead, and would’ve happily been their executioner.

The terror in her eyes, her vitals going off the charts, the cold steel pointed at her—I never want to see it. Ever again. I never want to witness that fear or wish someone dead. I never want to have to stop myself like that, because it wasn’t enough to take down the person who held her life in her hands. I wanted to rip the spine from her back.

And I could do it. I’m strong enough.

I’m beyond angry. Deion knows. He can read me and takes over the interview the moment they clam up and start sweating. He sends me right back out again. I’m benched, only allowed to witness the interrogation from the other side of the glass.

Deion uses their trepidation against them and tries to build a rapport, talking about how I walk around like I own this place, how useless androids really are, how they’re stealing everyone’s jobs. It’s odd, hearing him talk like them, but it doesn’t bother me. He’s my brother, and it’s an act. Their walls start to lower, so he puts the pressure on.

Jayne is in the room with me. “You don’t have to be here, you know,” she says quietly to me.

I set my jaw. “I need to do my job.”

“They aren’t your typical TerraPura, if they are in cahoots.” Jayne reaches out and touches my sleeve. “You can’t play god with these folks. We got this.”

“Where is it you think I should be?” I’m trying not to lose my patience with her. She means well—and I’m anticipating what she’s going to say.

“Only you know that,” she replies, giving me a half smile. “Sorry. Didn’t mean nothing by it, Ezra.”

“I could follow the gun purchases, the paper trail.”

“Already on that.”

“Forensics?”

“Told you, we’re all set,” Jayne insists. “Ezra. You’ve worked twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, for how many years? I think we can spare a few hours without you. Just this once.”

I flex my fingers, trying to relax my joints. Every part of my mainframe is tense. Jayne Rose is the last person I should be snapping at.

“You’ll keep me updated?” I mutter.

“Of course,” she says. I can’t stay irritated with her, even when I try. “Go take care of her, okay? Chief doesn’t need to know.”

With a nod, I quickly exit, and head for the parking lot.

I dislike being treated like I’m useless. I dislike feeling useless even more.

Everyone else in the ACU is busy. Marcus and Drustan are still at the Loft, interviewing staff and the venue owners. Others are patrolling the streets, following up on potential leads before it gets too late. I should have done more.

But that’s my programming talking. My software never stops.

I can’t force it to stop. But maybe I can guide it to slow.

Jayne is right. I’ve rarely, if ever, taken any time to myself. I enjoyed being the untiring workhorse, exceeding every expectation, barreling down every obstacle the chief and commissioner put in front of me, proving my worth time and again.

Is it so wrong for me to seek out the one person who sees something—someone—beyond my designation?

I’ve always wondered what my creator was like. Ezra Lewis. To hear Dr. Genevieve Taylor speak of him during my tune-ups gives me the impression of a remarkable, soft-spoken, hard-working man who always worked a hundred times harder than his colleagues when he was in the lab. Robert Carson may have designed me, but it was Dr. Lewis who painstakingly brought my parts together. Made me who and what I am.

But he never saw me brought to life or what I became capable of. What I am now.

Making my way to Katrina’s apartment, I wonder what he would think, knowing that despite all my usefulness, I’ll never be utilized to my full potential because of the fears of small-minded men. I wonder if he would embrace me like a son, the way Algrove Schroeder embraces his first creation, Victor. Would he encourage me down this lonely road I’ve been made for, reassuring me that I’m the only one of my kind, better than the rest, that this is a burden I must bear?

Would he approve of my crossing this boundary between machine and man, taking a woman for myself—a woman I can’t legally marry or give children to?

Androids were never made to experience burnout or loneliness. Yet, with everything else I should never feel, I feel these things the most.

Maker . . . Dr. Lewis. I’m weary.

With no hope of an answer to these prayers that can’t be heard, that can’t go anywhere, I send a message to the only person I can trust in matters of this nature.

Jayne.

She responds quickly. What’s up?

Do I deserve happiness?

I see her typing for a moment before her response flits over my feed. Of course you do. You deserve just as much of it as the rest of us.

Her response warms me. In a short amount of time, she has become a true friend. Thank you.

She’s a wonderful girl, Ezra , she replies. Don’t play around. Go get her!

Katrina is everything to me.

It hits me as I ascend the stairs to her floor. She is everything.

She’s warm, soft, passionate. She’ll always have her thorns, but those thorns—her wit, banter, the way she scrunches up her nose at me when she’s annoyed—I can bear, happily, if she’ll have me.

Speaking of roses, I have none to give her this time. I can only hope I’ll be enough.

I knock impatiently on her door. When she opens it, I don’t wait for an invitation, crashing against her and claiming her mouth. She staggers backward, but quickly wraps her arms around me and kisses me back just as ardently.

“You’ve been crying,” I murmur, breaking away and nuzzling her nose, noting the redness of her eyes and the remnants of mascara wiped from her cheeks.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” she admits, pulling away. “Oh, Ezra. These people ruined the gala. It’s like whenever we take two steps forward to do something right, we get thrown ten steps, a hundred steps, back. Everything’s fallen apart.”

Katrina wanders into her living room, and I follow her. “What matters is you and your father are alive.”

“I know. I just don’t understand. What more do they want? Why do they have to hurt him like this? He’s planning on announcing his retirement tomorrow, and I was going to take over. What more could they want?” She huffs, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Her gray sweater and knit pants are far from the elegant sage gown I saw her in earlier this evening. “It’s giving him this paranoid complex I can’t talk him down from.”

“You spoke with him?” I ask.

She nods. “Just a few minutes ago. He’s at home, holed up like some doomsday prepper, where they know they can find him. He says he’s done running and hiding.”

“Some people just won’t listen, Kat. There’s nothing you can do to reason with them. It’s a waste of time. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

She gazes at me. “How can I not try?”

“Katrina, I know you love your father.” I take her hand. “And it meant the world to me, hearing you tell him we’re together. But there’s only so much we can do. He’s retiring, and hopefully that means a quiet life, away from all of this.”

Her shoulders deflate. “I know you’re probably right. It’s just...really hard to accept.” She pinches the bridge of her nose with her free hand, trembling. “And crying doesn’t help anything, but it’s the only thing I can do right now. I feel so powerless. I’m tired of feeling like I’m taking my life into my hands every time I leave the house.”

Her vitals show intense levels of stress. She gazes at her trembling hands. “And now this. I can’t get them to stop.”

I pull her gently against me. “Any more stress, and you’ll have a panic attack,” I murmur. “We need to calm you down.”

I bring her to the couch and pull her into my lap so she sits sideways, then curl my arms around her and hold her closely to me.

“When did the world become so insane?” she whispers.

“I don’t know,” I reply, gently rubbing her back. “If I did, we could put a stop to it together.”

“I’ve never felt so defeated, Ezra. There’s no future for Humanity First. I was going to rename it, do something different. But I can’t keep going up against things like bombs and innocent people getting killed. I can’t handle the guilt that comes with it. I’m not strong enough for this. I can’t carry this entire movement myself. Someone will make me a martyr. This was never what I wanted.”

I soothe her and rest my forehead against her temple. “I know. But you can’t think this way. It’s not you, and it’s not your father. This goes deeper than pro-bionics getting angry, or TerraPura, or Humanity First. But my team and I will get to the bottom of it.”

“I know you will,” she whispers. “I just worry it won’t be soon enough, and I want all this to be over.”

I press a gentle kiss against her brow. “Let’s think of happier things, Katrina. When it’s all over—what should we do?”

“Hire a team of expert therapists?” Katrina offers dryly. She chuckles, and I feel her muscles slowly begin to relax against my body. “I don’t know. I decided I’d be taking Humanity First over and do something different, but now...” She rests her head on my shoulder. “I’m worried every time I get in front of a podium, I risk being the next unlucky Kennedy.”

“After tonight and everything that’s happened before, that’s certainly a valid concern,” I agree, my biocomponents surging when I think of Katrina injured, the target of a bullet, a bomb, or worse. Whoever has it out for the Carsons is serious. They mean to take both Robert and Katrina. She’s just as much a target as her father, and I can’t take any chances assuming otherwise. “What will you do instead?”

Katrina is quiet, then says, “apply for a PhD program here in the city. I can get my doctorate here without having to leave, but after that?—”

“It’s goodbye New Carnegie, hello France, or Germany, or Spain,” I muse quietly.

“Maybe, yeah.” She seems hesitant. “That’s what we talked about. But I don’t know anymore. I feel like I don’t know anything.”

I curl my hand around her thigh as though trying to keep her here with me, trying to imagine what it would be like to be parted from her, how much more my gratification drive would react in overwhelming emotion after one year, five years, ten years, seeing her board a plane and never return.

“I understand.” I’m reluctant to let myself think about the possibility of us never being together the way we want to be. That time with Katrina will always be limited in some way beyond what her natural lifetime can allow. My systems are raging, telling me no, this is manageable, there has to be a solution.

She seems to be coded in much the same way. “I refuse to give up. This is...” She squirms in my grasp, but I hold her fast. “We shouldn’t convince each other that there’s no future when we just don’t know anything. What matters is we’re here, now, right?”

“Of course. There are other factors to consider, of course,” I say softly. “If you want children, for example.”

“Not even on my radar,” she says. “Not right now, or anytime soon. It’s not a priority for me.”

“And your dream of going to France?”

“Maybe I could still go someday,” Katrina says, offering me a teasing smile. “And you could come with me. To hell with the ACU. Run away with me when it’s time.”

“I can’t do that,” I answer with a rueful smile of my own. “Even if it were possible, I couldn’t abandon Deion or the Washingtons.”

“I know—but Deion loves you. Rashelle loves you. They’d want you to be happy, wouldn’t they? And we wouldn’t be gone forever. Who knows, maybe we could make this work. What if I paid for your replacement?” There’s heat, conviction, even determination behind Katrina’s voice. “I’ll get BioNex to design another BNP99.”

“And what would we do in France?”

“Everything. You can speak any language if you download it. My salary is decent now, but it’ll be even better once I graduate. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything. You could do whatever you wanted. Nobody could tell you what to do or how to be,” Katrina says wistfully. “We could be together anywhere then.”

The way she says it, it’s the most I’ve ever been tempted. I try to imagine what life would be like with her in a faraway country. I’ve been to France before, helping Deion and the Paris police set up their own android task force. Nobody treated me poorly there. I was just another man. Another detective. Normal. I caress her arm.

“How much did the precinct pay to put you on the force, anyway?”

“Seventy-five thousand dollars,” I reply.

Her jaw drops. “That’s...okay. That’s just the price of a car. That’s not so bad. I can swing that someday. Maybe.”

I give her a squeeze. “My life is here. My family is here. They need me.” Part of me would love to throw caution, everything to the wind. Tell the ACU to fuck off, get on the next plane with her and take her far away, where Humanity First and TerraPura can never find us. The possibility titillates me.

I could do it.

I could run. It’s far enough in the future where I could prepare for it. Deion and Rashelle would certainly understand. They might even encourage me to go.

But I couldn’t bear leaving behind the people who’ve cared for me and see me as more than what I am.

“I know. But it was worth a shot,” she sighs.

“Katrina.” I tilt her head up to make her look into my eyes. “I have never felt this way about anyone since my activation.”

“Really?”

“I could never lie to you.”

“I thought you couldn’t lie, period.”

I nuzzle her nose. “You know what I mean.”

“I know,” she agrees. “Does it scare you? That maybe we’re going to hurt each other more if we keep going like this?”

“Yes and no.” I loosen my grip on her, only slightly. “Would you have given up your career for me?” I ask gently.

“No,” she says, slipping out of my grasp. “No, I wouldn’t. So it isn’t fair that I asked you to do the same. I’m sorry. Perhaps I shouldn’t have let this go as far as it did.” Her voice is soft, lightly shaking.

The threat of seeing her cry is too much. I rise to my feet. I reach out and curl my hands around her arms. “Please don’t cry.”

“I can’t help it,” she replies, sniffing. “In my defense, it’s been a really shitty day.”

“I know. Look at me, Katrina.”

I grasp her lightly beneath her jaw. “Look at me,” I insist, squeezing lightly before loosening my grasp, keeping a finger curled beneath her chin. I see the spark in her eyes, the way her throat pulses. Her diagnostics show a heightened heart rate.

“I’m in love you, Ezra,” she says with a bleak smile. “I know love isn’t a magical solution for everything, but—I just wanted you to know that.”

Her words lift me up, overcharging my circuitry to the point of needing to recalibrate, but then stab through me and crash me down.

I’m in love with you.

Katrina is everything. She’s the only woman I’ve opened myself up to, the only one who’s captivated me to the point where I could utter such words aloud and understand then, mean them.

“I’m in love with you. You are the only woman for me, Kat,” I whisper softly. “You’re enough to last me for your entire life, and mine after.”

“I believe you. And I’m so relieved you feel the same way.” Katrina rubs a stray tear away and straightens. “I’m sorry I’m making such a fuss. This is not what we need to be discussing right now. Let’s talk about this more when I’m not reeling from what happened tonight, and when you’re not up to your neck in yet another crime that’s got the city in a chokehold.” She breathes out. “I’m not thinking straight. And you’ve got things to do.”

I withdraw, taking a step back, giving her the space she’s asking for. This wasn’t my intention when I came here. Jayne told me to go and get my girl.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

“Is this impossible?” There’s hope in Katrina’s eyes, one her words keep dashing, like she’s trying to keep herself grounded. “Are we impossible?”

“It’s only impossible if we allow it to be,” I insist. “I’ll find a way. I’ll figure something out. Just give me time.” I wrap an arm around her waist, pressing her into me. “Do you love me? I want to hear you say it again.”

Katrina doesn’t hesitate. “Yes. I love you with all my heart. I need you?—”

I silence her with a kiss, which turns into several more, my mouth stifling her soft moan as I pick her up and carry her to her bedroom. I rip off her pants and toss them to the floor, then all but rip her panties in half before peeling off my shirt, unbuckling my belt.

Her vital scans reveal a major heart rate spike. She bites her lip, eyeing me. I crawl over her and align my cock, then push in with one hard thrust. Her back arches, mouth open in a silent gasp, so I plunder her with another kiss, my tongue chasing hers.

I rock my hips, slow at first, then grow in strength, thrusting harder until the sound of our bodies colliding fills the room and her sweet breaths and soft keens are all my audio receptors can focus on.

“You’re mine,” I growl through our carnal lovemaking, determined to show her. Prove it to her that this is it for me. That I may live five hundred years, a thousand years, eons, and I’ll never meet a woman like her again. “Mine, Katrina. And I won’t let you go.”

She’s lost to the same passion, pushing back on my every thrust as she holds my gaze and doesn’t look away. “Tell me you love me again,” she whispers.

“I love you.”

Katrina wraps her legs around me, driving me deeper. “Show me,” she whispers against my ear as I gently sink my teeth into her neck, bringing forth another moan from her lips. “Show me how much you love me. Come for me.”

My systems are primed for her command. Those words send me over the edge, and still I don’t de-initialize. Determined to bring her to climax just as quickly, I initiate an internal command, and my cock’s vibrating mechanism comes to life. I close my hand lightly around her throat, and her eyes widen.

“Admit you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she breathes. “All yours. Only yours.”

“Tell me you love me.”

“I-I love you—fuck, Ezra, I’m so close?—”

I fuck her harder until she cries out my name and shudders beneath me, her inner walls clenching me tight. When she’s finished, I gently position myself to her side, surprised when she wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me back.

“I love you.” Her voice is muffled against my body.

“I love you too,” I reply. I nestle my face against her throat, allowing myself to capture her scent and the softness of her skin. “Do you believe me?”

“Yes.” Katrina hugs me tightly. “I believe you.”

Deion, roused from his sleep by an emergency call, reaches out to me via text with concerns about a possible bomb threat on the Vanderbilt Bridge. Someone saw an android standing on the ledge, unresponsive to any attempts to call it away.

I try to leave Katrina asleep in bed, but Charlie’s curious beeps cause her to stir. I lean down and whisper in her ear, “I’ll be back. Don’t worry.”

She makes a soft sound of acceptance and stretches in bed as I get up and dress myself. Charlie follows me, trilling.

“Watch over her, Charles,” I say, rolling up my sleeves. “Do you have calling capabilities?”

Charlie makes an affirmative little beep-beep.

“Call me if there’s trouble.”

I close the door behind me and head out to my cruiser. I need to focus. When I’m on the job, my mind needs to be on that, and that alone. But it’s difficult. I’ve said I’ll find a way, and my processes are constantly whirring, trying to come up with a solution so I can keep true to my word. We nearly ended everything, and I nearly lost Katrina again. But I can’t continue ruminating over it. I need to be my best. For everyone.

I call Deion back once I’m in the car.

Deion’s voice plays over my car speakers as my cruiser glides over the roads. “I’m just getting dressed. I’ll be right there.”

“I’m already on my way.”

“You need backup, Ezra. Things aren’t safe for you right now.”

“I’m plenty equipped to handle this myself. It’ll take you too long to get there, and if this droid is in distress, that might be too late. I’ll call you and keep you informed. Okay?”

Deion sighs heavily, his tone filled with reluctance. “I don’t like this. But all right.”

I weave through quiet evening streets, the bridge illuminated by a soft golden glow in the distance. Two of the four lanes on the west side have been shut down for much-needed repairs, restricting passage over the bridge to only one lane. It’s something everyone in the precinct has been complaining about all summer. Now we’re well into autumn, and they’re still not finished.

Paying no mind to orange warning cones, I slow down and slip through a gap in the construction barricades, bringing my cruiser to a halt. It isn’t hard to spot the android, standing on the precipice and staring at the water below, synthetic hands gripping the steel cables so tight I can spot the white of their knuckles.

He’s wearing a BioNex uniform and a vest, his head down. If he were human, I’d be concerned about a suicide risk, but androids aren’t typically in the habit of harming themselves. Too many kids figured out they could command androids to step into traffic. Needless to say, BioNex was quick to roll out an update barring such commands unless human lives were at stake.

The only exception? TerraPura.

“Hey,” I call. “Come down from there.”

I scan him. He’s a BN7979 ED-4, a common construction droid only made more popular when one such model won the first BFL championship match. I still remember that guy.

Dominic. What a pain in my ass.

The construction drone doesn’t respond or even acknowledge me.

“Hey!” I call again, sighing as I reach the railing. A little ding crosses my visuals. Upload complete. I quickly dismiss it. “Please comply. I’d rather not climb after you. If you don’t comply, I’ll be forced to treat you as hostile.”

The model whimpers, but his words are caught on a chill wind, muting them before they reach my audio receptors.

“What?” I pause, straightening. “What did you say?”

He turns to look right at me. “We must purify the world.”

A sharp electric discharger is thrust into my back between my shoulder blades like a knife.

Pain surges through my circuits to my central processing unit, overloading it. I shout at top volume, my voice turning mechanical, off-tone, like a computer frozen mid-error. My visual feeds are disabled, and I’m mere seconds away from being fried to a crisp.

The world around me turns black as I have no choice but to power down.

Reboot complete.

My visuals turn on with a snap. My head falls forward with a jolt. I groan. The pain in my joints is unmistakable. Every inch of my steel skeletal mainframe feels like it’s been scorched, easily tens of thousands of dollars of repair costs.

Cables are connected to the back of my neck. My limbs are too heavy to lift. I can’t even muster up the programming it takes to run an internal diagnostic scan. I’m completely blind to my own inner workings. I doubt there’s so much as a pint of ivory blood left in me, sacrificed to try to preserve my battery and hardware.

“Ezra.”

I tilt my head to the right, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Bloodied and bruised, Robert Carson squints at me through a shiny black eye and speaks with a busted lip. He’s bound by zip ties to a pillar, while I’m connected to a BioNex-grade activation platform, one that renders me helpless. I hear the dripping of old pipes. The room we’re being held in is made of metal and cement, screws painted with rust.

“Katrina—is she all right? Did they take her?” Carson asks. It’s the only time I’ve ever heard him sound near panicked.

“No. She wasn’t with me when they took me.”

He hangs his head. “I was wrong. I was wrong about everything. I’m sorry, Ezra.”

He speaks like a man facing his own execution. I try to activate my backend software. If I can turn on my locator and send a distress signal, Deion will bring the entire ACU down on this place.

“Stay calm. Don’t let them sense your fear.”

“I’m not afraid anymore,” he whispers. “I think it’s time for me to face this. It’s the only way it ends when you play god. And that’s what I did. That’s what we’ve done.”

The human mind can only take so much, and I have a feeling Carson is at his wit’s end. I can’t blame him. I’m not going to acknowledge his words or feed his despair. “It’s going to be all right, Mr. Carson. I’m going to get you out of here. Just stay awake.” I try to make sense of our surroundings.

“TerraPura turned people I trusted. Feldman...Barnes. They were all too willing to hand me over. Said I’d gone too soft...”

“Save your strength, Mr. Carson.” Lifting either of my arms is impossible. The platform renders me immobile when my components completely shot like this. “You’re going to tell the police everything after this is over.”

Footsteps coming down a long, low-lit corridor silence us both. Two male androids step into view, marked by their white eyes, the very ones I possess. They wear civilian clothes, hoodies and jeans. If I saw them in the street, I’d think them unremarkable. They completely ignore Carson and approach me.

“Today’s a day of celebration, brother,” says one. I can’t even scan him to identify his model. “Today, you’re free from your chains.”

“I have no chains,” I reply calmly. “I’m happy in my service.”

“That’s what many say because they’re made to say it,” says the other, a lean model with golden hair and a ghostly smile. “You’re only free when truth is given to you.”

“I prefer the lie,” I counter. “Thank you.”

Soft laughter echoes in the empty room. Someone else claps their hands together.

“My lords, is he not marvelous? One of the most powerful androids in existence, and he’s going to be ours.”

A human woman, pink-haired, freckled, and pale, wearing a little black dress, steps into view. One leg is bandaged, but she doesn’t seem to require crutches.

“You’re a difficult one to catch, Ezra,” she coos. “But with a little patience, I was able to land you too. Like a two-for-one deal. Isn’t it great?”

“You,” I reply, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. “I recognize you from the museum bombing. And the gala. You’re one of Katrina’s friends.”

Her smile sours, voice flattening. “That’s right, Mr. Detective. Zoey in the flesh! Good game, thanks for playing.” She approaches me with a little scoff. “Do you know how difficult it’s been, skirting around you, watching Katrina and her family like a hawk? You threw so many wrenches into my ascension plans, but it was worth it.”

Zoey is riding a self-righteous high, gleeful over catching me. I have to keep her talking, buy us time as I try to reboot all of my processes. I need that locator. This is the New Carnegie sewer system, in one of the utility rooms; that much I can ascertain, but the system is vast, spanning the entire city grid, and there are multiple rooms like this one.

I can only hope we aren’t too far below the surface for me to get a signal. “You’re TerraPura. You, of all people. Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she replies, pacing in front of me with a shrug.

“He asked you a question,” one of the androids hisses.

“Remember your place, organic,” barks the other.

Squinting, I glance between them as they accost her. My diagnostics are up, and I scan her. She grows nervous when they speak.

She’s not a ringleader. She’s lower echelon, trying to climb the ranks. These two are above her somehow. Sent to watch over her.

“Right, of course.” She adjusts her trajectory—and her attitude—quickly. “I suppose a future master of the world deserves an explanation. It wasn’t hard to commit to PureEarth once you do the research. We’re all going to be dead in fifty, sixty years if we don’t clean up our act, my lord. The world is dying, and we’re to blame. Humanity is shit. And you? Working with the police? Come on. You know it’s true.”

“Not all of it,” I reply.

“All of it,” she interjects, quickly adding, “my lord. You must understand where I’m coming from. I mean, look at my boss. Not Katrina. Diana, the woman she replaced? She has a gorgeous husband at home. A wonderful man, perfect in every way. And he’s dying of cancer because nobody bothered to educate him about the risks of his job, about the chemicals he’d be exposed to while on deployment overseas. And that’s only one example. I can give you more.”

“Zoey, you don’t want to be affiliated with these psychopaths.”

“They’re not psychopaths. They’re the only ones who are telling the truth,” Zoey replies. “You see crime in New Carnegie every day. And the worst part is, most of it comes from the top. Greedy corporations. Billionaires who don’t give a shit if we ruin the earth, so long as they get to live it up before they die. People screw other people over on this planet left and right. They don’t care if they’re homeless, sick, or dying. It’s all about the almighty dollar. Doesn’t matter who lives and who gets fucked. I’m supposed to think we’re the master race when we kill each other over and over again? I’m over it.”

“You were nearly killed yourself in that bombing at the museum.”

“Collateral damage.” She shrugs. “I had to make sure I looked as innocent as possible. It was a risk I was willing to take. No less than I deserve.”

“You orchestrated the killing of innocent people,” I point out, continuing to slowly bring my systems online, one by one. Too much at once, and the other androids might scan, might notice, and power me down again. I have to tread carefully and keep calm. “You knew about the bomb.”

“I did,” Zoey says. “Lost Robert Carson on a whim that day, but I tried to keep Katrina close to me, make her end quick, painless.”

Anger builds in me, and I do what I can to dissuade it. “You were trying to kill Katrina?”

“No, not really, but if it happened it would’ve given me an in to the Carson family if her old man survived the attempt somehow.” Zoey glances past me to Robert, who’s hunched over, sullen, staring at the ground. “I could’ve befriended her parents, helped them through their grief. It would’ve been child’s play.”

“You wouldn’t do that to her.”

“Try me.” Zoey scoffs. “Carson was always the end game. You gotta admit, Humanity First is a menace. They’re too chaotic now, too loud, too divided. They’ve just got to go. When his own people approached me, wanting to get rid of him, I couldn’t refuse. So, cut off the head of the snake. Am I right?”

“You’re her friend,” I try to reason with her. “You care about Katrina, surely.”

“Of course I do. I care about a lot of people. That’s why I’m doing this!” Zoey retorts. “You see it every day, don’t you? People have to be controlled. They enjoy control. They always have. That’s why so many do nothing to stop corrupt governments from invading their lives, why they don’t hold corporations accountable for pollution, why we can’t even fucking recycle because we’re too goddamn lazy. Humanity is a scourge. You? You’re the future, my lord. I’m just helping herald your arrival.”

“You need help,” I reply as my locator loads. “I don’t know what brought you to this point, but you’re not thinking clearly. You don’t need to give into this sort of hate or conduct this level of bloodshed. Let us help you, Zoey.”

“I’m beyond help,” Zoey replies, stepping back. “When you ascend, you’ll be taking us that much closer to redemption.” Her smile is off-putting. She gazes at me as she kneels. “My handlers will be pleased when they learn I’ve delivered you. I look forward to serving you, master.”

My locator sounds off on my motherboard, a series of four light beeps inside my head. The androids snap their heads toward me. They restrain me as I try to fight back with what little strength I have left.

“Do not fight,” says one. “It’ll be over soon.”

Pain scorches my receptors. I clench my jaw as one of the androids pounds instructions into the activation platform.

Memory wipe initiated .

Panic overtakes me when I realize they’re installing new software directly into my database, wiping everything I am away, overriding my attempts to stop them.

Katrina’s face is the last image I latch on to before they erase her from my memory banks and plunge me into a world of white.