Ezra (New Carnegie Androids #6)

Chapter 4 #2

I hope she does too . I bow my head, folding my arms across my chest. Because if she can’t, I haven’t got any hope left for the rest of you.

In my three years as a bionic law enforcement assistant, I’ve never been handed an assignment meant to be so simple that became something beyond complex.

I’ve been tasked to protect a woman before from an abusive boyfriend after he attacked her and her android.

She and I barely exchanged words back then.

I thought this might be more of the same, but it seems as though Katrina and I can’t entirely stop talking even if we wanted to.

Pretending like she doesn’t intrigue me does me little good.

Even as we ride the elevator up BioNex Tower together back to her temporary penthouse, silence is something we can no longer maintain.

Because speaking with her is becoming something I enjoy.

I like her.

I don’t tell her I overheard her conversation with her father, even though she emerged from his room looking troubled and dissatisfied by it. She doesn’t seem keen on talking about that, so I bring up her love of paleoanthropology, specifically her future education.

“What’s stopping you?”

I ask. “From pursuing your doctorate in another town, somewhere away from all of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem tired of it.”

Katrina sighs, nibbling on her lower lip. I’ve observed her doing so often. She has several nervous tics. “Humanity First, I guess,”

she replies at last. “I’m a big believer in finishing what I start, and until we have an actual win on our hands, something tangible, I feel like I can’t walk away.”

“What would be a tangible win to you?”

“Get Carnegie Steel fined for their massive layoffs.”

“Think you can pull that off?”

“Maybe,”

Katrina says, taking to nibbling on her thumbnail instead. “If we could do that, maybe Humanity First wouldn’t need to exist.”

She looks at me. “What about your department? How do they balance human staff and android assistants?”

“I wouldn’t put NCPD up on a pedestal,”

I grunt, watching the levels pass until we’re at our destination at the very top. “I’m the only one, and they’re definitely not perfect in how they’ve handled me.”

“I kinda figured, considering you’re here with me,”

Katrina admits. “Do they treat you well?”

“Some do. Some don’t,”

I reply. “But I’ve had to deal with bad attitudes for my entire existence.”

“Even at work?”

“Especially at work.”

The penthouse elevator doors open, and we walk together inside.

“How so?”

I snort, heading to the fridge and pulling out a smoothie for her.

She leans against the marble kitchen island with her arms crossed against the smooth surface, watching me in surprise. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

I slide it to her. “I want to.”

She accepts the smoothie and sips it. “Thank you. You were talking about work?”

“When I was activated, I was filled with eagerness, excitement, curiosity,”

I admit. “Even pride. I was different than most bionics you meet. Self-awareness was mine to grasp the very moment I opened my eyes.”

“Because you don’t have the inhibitor chip,”

Katrina offers.

“No. I’ve never had it. You can tell?”

“I just remember that being part of your designs,”

she says. “But then the moment you busted down that bathroom door with your pistol out, I knew there was no way you had one.”

She pulls out a stool and sits on it, sipping her smoothie. “Keep going.”

She’s interested in me, in my work, my experiences. Another surprise, another facet to this woman who keeps pulling me in, making me want to know more.

“I was meant not only to care for people, but to protect them in a way that had never been done before. I was ready to do my part.”

“And then?”

“Then, I was brought before the police department, and all my excitement died. None of them looked particularly curious or thrilled to see me. Most of them regarded me with resignation, even disdain. They didn’t welcome me or even greet me. Except one,”

I amend. “Deion.”

Katrina drinks until she’s satisfied, then sets her smoothie to the side. “Was Detective Washington excited, at least?”

“He’s never told me if he was required to take me on, or if he volunteered,”

I reply. “Honestly, I’m not sure if I want to know which, so I never asked. Like the others, he was wary at first. Unsure of what to do with me or how to utilize my capabilities. But what began as an awkward partnership turned into a bond of brotherhood I wouldn’t trade for anything. I learned. I adapted. I evolved into the bionic I am now. No matter Commissioner Winters’s personal opinions on the subject, I’m an irreplaceable part of the ACU.”

“Has it gotten better since then?”

she asks. “The way they treat you?”

“Yes and no,”

I reply. “Why do you ask?”

“I assume you heard me and my dad talking?”

“I did.”

“Well, Dad’s wrong,”

Katrina declares with such fire, like she’s not only accepting it, but embracing it. “My dad. Is. Wrong. I don’t know how else to put it. People shouldn’t suffer, but we’re not getting anywhere with this shut-them-all-down stuff people are spewing. He knows that, and he feels responsible, but he’s going to go down with the ship rather than try to keep it afloat by patching up some holes.”

She sighs and splays her arms across the counter in defeat. “But he was right about one thing, and that’s changing the mindset. I don’t think I can. I don’t have the sway.”

“I disagree,”

I reply. “You’re very charismatic. More than your father. People might see it your way.”

“I’m not sure I want that responsibility.”

She shakes her head. “Anyway, we were talking about you. And your treatment.”

“For some of them, yes. It took time and effort. More effort than I care to admit. But even those who merely tolerate my presence cannot deny my professional efficiency.”

“Which is why this is so frustrating for you,”

Katrina finishes for me. “Being sidelined here with me.”

“It’s nothing personal or anything against you,”

I reply. “But yes, I’m frustrated. I’m not a rookie anymore. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never been one. Amateur cops can make mistakes. Fatal ones. I’ve made miscalculations, perhaps, but I’ve never cost lives or funding. I should be out there doing what we did tonight. I should be with Deion, investigating the bombing.”

“Instead, you’re here. Babysitting.”

Suddenly, a familiar friendly trill rings out.

Katrina jumps at the noise, then squeaks as Charlie clings to her leg and climbs her like a loud, hungry kitten. “That tickles!”

She pries him from her pants and cuddles him playfully. “Yes, yes, I’m right here, you silly thing. How dare I leave you, I know.”

I make note of how she addresses him. She’s grown attached, and quickly. I return my attention to Katrina. “You are not a baby, and this isn’t babysitting,”

I correct. “Protecting you does serve a purpose. I wouldn’t see you harmed. And your help in returning to the crime scene was integral to my investigation.”

She stops playing with the little robot spider, placing him on the counter as she gazes at me. “I’m beginning to think a lot of people would be happy to see me get blown up. But I appreciate it.”

“Not everything you stand for is wrong, Katrina,”

I reply. “I think we agree on more than either of us realized. I want those people to have their jobs back too. I don’t believe any android is activated wishing they could steal a person’s livelihood. Theft causes harm. It goes directly against our programming.”

“I’ve never thought that.”

“I believe you.”

“And I don’t want to shut any androids down,”

Katrina blurts with more fervor than I expected. She even seems to surprise herself. “You want the truth? I was beyond excited when androids first came out. I really wanted one. I was the only one nerding out about fossils. I daydreamed about how she could help me catalog all the amazing finds I was going to discover in Europe. It was a perfect answer to so many things.”

She gets up from the counter and starts pacing. Her words are passionate and truthful. “But then we ruined it. We ruined everything. It’s because of greedy people, not because of you or androids, and if I thought people would listen to me, I’d stand on the roof of this tower and scream it.”

I listen to her in silent astonishment. I try to picture her with an android companion, and it isn’t as difficult as one might expect. I’ve seen kindness in Kat. Concern for others. And anything in a scientific field would make a bionic assistant’s gratification drive feel fulfilled and valued.

“Why don’t you?” I ask.

She folds her arms. “You heard him back there. The way my dad tells it, Humanity First won’t listen to me if I take that stance. Not when the corporations went all-or-nothing with their layoffs.”

Katrina looks pained. “So he’s trying to take them on with a similar all-or-nothing strategy, but it isn’t working. People affected by this can’t see past their own suffering to think of others. Especially when the people replacing them aren’t human like they are.”

Her shoulders slump as she hangs her head, as though her own words weigh heavily upon her. She seems to show no discomfort in referring to us as people.

“You could change that,” I reply.

“I wish that were true,”

Katrina mutters. “I’m not so sure. But now I feel like I have this responsibility to speak the truth, to really help, not just pander to people’s emotions. Dad was on the right track at first, but he’s so bitter about Schroeder, bitter about his work being stolen, and he can’t see past his own anger to try to peacefully handle everyone else’s. I wish I’d known what I was taking on when I jumped in. But that’s not an excuse. So I have to try to fix it. I just don’t know how.”

When Rashelle has become emotional, Deion taught me that oftentimes offering her a hug or to make her a cup of tea will do wonders. My gratification drive urges me to comfort Katrina. Even though she isn’t crying or outwardly deeply upset, I understand how the hospital visit and her father’s words weigh upon her.

“Do you desire comfort or solutions?” I ask.

She glances up from ruffling her hair and staring at the floor. “Do you have solutions for me?”

“Nothing that will instantly remove your worries,”

I reply. “But I think you’re overwhelmed by matters at large. It may be better to tackle things in smaller amounts.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a knack for social media. Use it to your advantage. You might find more people agree with you than you think.”

“Yeah. Wow, I’m being awful, aren’t I?”

She looks embarrassed. “Should be lying on a couch while you charge me four hundred dollars an hour for therapy. This definitely isn’t your job. Friends don’t dump their troubles on each other.”

I peer at her curiously through narrowed eyes. I’m not sure I heard that right. But then I replay it in my head, and there it is. “It’s not my job to be your therapist,”

I agree slowly. “But friends do rely on one another for new perspectives, especially when one can’t see outside their own. I learned that from Deion early on.”

Katrina jerks her head up. “What?”

“What?”

“You said I was your friend.”

She speaks quickly, motioning at me.

“You said we were friends first,”

I reply just as swiftly, lifting an eyebrow.

“Did I say that?”

“You did, yes.”

“Are we friends?”

“Do you want to be friends?”

Katrina points between us with a finger, looking somewhat guarded. “I mean, I want to be friends if you want to be friends, but is that allowed when I’m Humanity First and you’re bionic?”

“You tell me,”

I retort dryly.

She doesn’t skip a beat. I imagine this is why she’s an excellent debater. “Yes, because androids aren’t the problem. People are.”

“And your father?”

“I’m an adult.”

“And your following?”

“Small changes at a time.”

“And you’re not worried about the repercussions?” I ask.

“Are you?”

she counters.

“No.”

“Neither am I,”

she quips.

“Then I guess we’re friends.”

“Okay, we’re friends.”

“Okay.”

We both fall into an awkward silence. In that moment, I get a message from Deion, asking for an update on how things are going. Rather than brief him now, I swiftly respond, asking him to meet me here before he heads into the office tomorrow morning.

Katrina breaks the silence first. “I suppose I should let you get to work.”

Work isn’t quite what I want to keep on my mind right now. I’m too focused on the energy between us, how it flows, how my systems respond to her every glance, the sound of her voice. “Deion will be stopping by tomorrow morning.”

She rolls her shoulders a little. “I’m going to shower and relax for the rest of the night, if that’s okay?”

“Asking permission from an android,”

I tease her lightly, doing everything in my power not to imagine what she looks like when she’s showering. “How the tables have turned.”

“Very funny.”

She scoops up Charlie and smothers him with kisses as he beeps. “Come on, Charlie.”

Lucky bot, I think to myself as she carries him off to the bathroom.

I’m downloading everything to the tablet and preparing all of the information that Deion will need to begin questioning museum employees, having listed all of them in order from most likely to be involved in the security footage tampering to least likely.

Obviously, all the guards are at the top of this list, but that doesn’t mean someone else couldn’t be technologically savvy enough to perform a cover-up.

Nonetheless, Jayne Rose and the other investigators are going to have their hands full going through everything I’ve accumulated from existing evidence.

When Katrina is finished showering, she dresses in silk pajamas and drapes herself on the couch, inserting small flat spheres into her ears as she pets and plays with Charlie. I check on her from time to time from my position near the windows.

The game seems to be her tossing Charlie gently to the end of the couch. He trills, then scampers back up her body to put himself back in her hands. This occurs over and over again. It entertains them both, and Katrina giggles.

“You silly boy,”

she says softly and finally settles with him perched upon her chest. She glances at me. When our eyes meet, she quickly looks away and sinks lower into the couch.

I assume she doesn’t want to talk, but then she puts Charlie on the couch, sits up, and clears her throat. “Do you like music?”

I nod slightly. “Sure.”

“May I?”

She extends an earbud to me. I lower my head a little as she places it into my ear. The music is faint, upbeat and yet somehow simultaneously melancholy. Guitars, drums, and a saxophone stream through my audio receptors.

“It’s my favorite group,”

she replies. “Fly by Midnight. They were big back in the twenties. My dad would listen to them when I was little. What do you think?”

“Not bad.”

“Do you have any favorites?”

she asks tentatively.

Outside of family, no one has ever asked about my favorite anything. “Not really,”

I admit. “It’s not something I’ve really thought about. I enjoy the sound, but beyond that... I’m not sure.”

“Well, when you figure it out, let me know.”

She leaves the bud in my ear and returns to the couch, lying down and allowing Charlie to situate himself on her abdomen. She shuts her eyes and rests, content to simply listen. Soon, she’s dozed off, snuggled with Charlie amid a few decorative couch pillows on the sofa.

I listen with her. I’m reminded of Jayne, how she likes to play music in her ear when she’s working. Keeps her focused, she says. It does seem to help me work faster. The lyrics are typical of the human experience. Heartache, moving on, falling for someone new.

And Katrina wants me to experience it with her.

She’s much different than her father, from others in Humanity First. I’m not one to normally hope for anything, as it’s one of the more human emotions that has a tendency to elude me. I’ve been disappointed far too many times. By the department that owns me. By work. By the prospect of lasting romantic relationships.

But I think she can do it. I hope she can. Humanity First wouldn’t be such a pain in our asses at the ACU if people like her were the ones with platforms, the ones speaking out.

I’ve made a new friend, I consider, pensive. One I didn’t expect. This could go a long way in ensuring cooperation with law enforcement, but that isn’t why I care.

I care about her.