To Kill A Droid Read online

  Nicholas stared at the bouncer as the man plummeted to the floor. He was unnerved by his violent reaction, surprised by his own attack. He could have easily knocked him unconscious with one punch. Instead, he savagely broke his arm while he was conscious. Like the corrupt officer he met on the street, he abused his power. He erratically blinked as he tried to shrug off the attack.

  He entered the nightclub, walking down a small corridor. He could see a few cash registers through the bulletproof windows to his left. A few bullets were lodged in the cracked glass. The rooms, however, were empty. He didn't plan on paying to enter anyway. He couldn't help but smile upon spotting the shaggy puma print carpeting beneath his feet – classy.

  He marched through a second set of doors and found himself in the dingy main club. The stripper stage sat to his left, vacant and devoid of hope. There were a few tables and tattered seats around the stage. The club clearly served a few dishes, but the patrons likely sought a different type of 'meal.' To the right, there was a full bar. A man with a shaved head and a threadbare white t-shirt stood behind the bar, aiming a revolver at the door.

  Nicholas held his hands up as he approached the bar. He said, “Don't do anything rash, sir. I'm not here to cause any trouble.”

  The bartender said, “It doesn't look like it from here, pal. What'd you do to my bouncer? Huh? Who the hell do you think you are?”

  Nicholas scanned the bartender's appearance. Judging from the man's rugged face, he could see he was not Adam Jensen. He was simply another obstacle – another hurdle before the finish line. He didn't want to hurt the man, but he had to complete his objective.

  Nicholas said, “I'm an investigator with the Neo-Oxnard Police Department. I am looking for Adam Jensen. I have questions for him regarding a deviant attack near the border. That is all I can share with you at this moment. Don't do anything foolish.”

  The bartender responded, “Adam isn't going anywhere. You hear me? As far as I know, Oak is dead and Adam is my last bartender for the night. He's not leaving with you. He's not dying.”

  “I don't intend on taking him anywhere. I certainly don't want to hurt him.”

  “He's not leaving and he's not dying.”

  “Listen, you won't be able to kill me with that revolver. You'd pierce my prosthetic skin, but you wouldn't injure me. It would be pointless.”

  The bartender huffed, then he said, “I know that. But, if I shoot you three, maybe four times in the same spot on your chest or your head, you're as good as dead.”

  “Theoretically speaking, that is certainly a possibility,” Nicholas said as he shrugged. As the bartender smiled smugly, proud and arrogant, Nicholas said, “But, it's not likely.”

  Nicholas tossed a stool into the air to distract the bartender. He dashed towards his left and grabbed another stool. Before the first piece of furniture could even land, he hurled the second stool over the counter. The stool collided with the bartender's nose. The man staggered a meter in reverse until he collided with the counter behind him.

  Nicholas lunged over the bar and grabbed the bartender, pulling him from the nape of his neck. He grabbed his right arm, then he smashed his wrist on the edge of the counter. The sound of his bones crunching was unnerving, like a bag of crackers crumbling. The revolver clicked and clanked on the counter. The police android promptly tossed the firearm onto the floor.

  With sharp eyes, Nicholas glared at the bartender and said, “You should have listened to me. I can't kill you, but I can subdue you. I can paralyze you for the rest of your life without killing you. You understand me? You don't want that, do you?”

  Blood leaking from his nose, the bartender frantically shook his head and said, “No, no. Please, just stop. I'm... I'm sorry.”

  “Don't apologize to me. Tell me: where is Adam Jensen?”

  “He should still be in the locker rooms. Just... Just take the door to your left and leave me alone. Go on, bastard! Get out of here!”

  Nicholas glanced towards the steel door beside the bar. He asked, “Where are the keys?”

  “It's not locked. We don't lock it unless no one is here.”

  “Good. Thank you for your cooperation. Have a nice day, sir.”

  Nicholas released the arrogant bartender. He stomped on the revolver with all of his might, crushing the weapon's barrel and cylinder. He shuffled in his duster coat as he casually strolled towards the door. With each confrontation, violence against humans became easier. Deviance seemed like a possibility, but droids could not self-diagnose. A schizophrenic generally doesn't know he is suffering from schizophrenia, does he?

  ***

  Adam Jensen sat on a sofa to the right, unaware of the ruckus outside. He listened to music through his wireless earbuds, bobbing his head like a walking pigeon. His phone captured most of his attention, though. He tapped and swiped his finger across the touchscreen as he cycled through his seemingly infinite social media applications.

  Nicholas quietly closed the door behind him. He wanted to keep the element of surprise. He glanced around the simple room, searching for any other threats. There were several tables and mirrors to the left. The wall to the right was covered with rusty lockers. Aside from the bouncer and the police android, the room was empty.

  The droid stepped in front of the sofa and said, “You must be Adam Jensen.”

  Adam continued to bob his head, captivated by his phone conversation and the music. He scratched his scruffy beard, then he ran his fingers through his slick black hair. Throughout his simple grooming, he did not take his eyes off his phone. Like conjoined twins, he was practically attached to his phone at the palm.

  Nicholas plucked the phone from the young man's hand, as if he were plucking a petal from a beautiful rose. Wide-eyed, Adam pulled the earbuds from his ears and glanced at his uninvited guest. He didn't recognize the police android. He glanced at the door to his left, rattled. He didn't hear Oak or the bartender, which only meant trouble for him.

  With dour eyes, stern and despondent, Adam asked, “Who are you? What... What are you doing here?”

  Nicholas responded, “My name is Nicholas. I am an android working with the Neo-Oxnard Police Department. I have a few questions for you, Mr. Jensen. I would truly appreciate your full cooperation. You wouldn't want to do this the hard way.”

  “The hard way?”

  “Yes, the hard way. The same route your foolish coworkers took. They're beaten, they're bruised, but they'll live. I don't want to hurt you, but I need information. I need you to talk to me.”

  Adam squirmed in his seat, leaning as far away from the android as humanly possible. He stuttered, “Wha–What... What do you want from me?”

  With his hands on his knees, Nicholas leaned forward and stared into Adam's glistening brown eyes. Eye-level conversations seemed to work best with humans. He didn't want the young man to feel inferior or intimidated. He was programmed to make humans feel safe and comfortable after all.

  Nicholas said, “I want you to tell me about the resistance group in the area. I've been informed that you have ties with this group, but you're not exactly a member. Tell me about them.”

  With the simple statement, Adam's eyes were filled with terror. Sweat spurted from every gland and every breath escaped his lungs before he could savor it. He was pushed to a corner, forced to squeal like a pig. He feared the inevitable retaliation from the group, but he knew he couldn't overpower the android either. If Oak couldn't handle the negotiator, he surely didn't stand a chance.

  Adam said, “I... I don't know what you're talking about. Please, don't hurt me. Don't... Don't do this, man. Come on. Have some mercy.”

  “Tell me about the group. Start from the beginning,” Nicholas said in a soft, understanding tone. “Please, don't be afraid. I am going to handle everything.”

  Eyes welling with tears, Adam clenched his jaw and shook his head. He said, “I don't know what you're talking about, officer.”

  Officer – Nicholas couldn't help but feel empowe
red by the simple word. In a world filled with hatred, he was accustomed to being ridiculed and harassed by humans. He didn't mind the abuse his peers inflicted, either. He accepted 'droid' as his title from everyone he crossed. He decided to replace the beatings with a softer tactic – bribery. The young man deserved to keep his bones intact.

  Nicholas said, “Mr. Jensen, I am allowed to offer you $2,500 in exchange for some valuable information.” Adam sniffled as he glanced around the room, clearly considering the offer. The police android continued, “I have also been authorized to 'sweeten' the deal, as you humans would say.”

  Nicholas retrieved a small transparent bag from his coat pocket. The bag was filled with one ounce of a similarly transparent liquid – Hal. Hal, short for hallucinate, was a popular street drug. It was injected straight into the veins for a long but stable experience or directly into the eyes for a short but powerful episode.

  The drug made the user hallucinate. Using the drug was like stepping into the most tender dream – or the most hellish nightmare. Regardless, the experience took the user away from the real world. Sure, the consequences of using such a drug could be fatal, especially if the user was not monitored in a safe environment, but it did not matter to most people. People sought to escape and Hal offered to escort them away from their real problems.

  Unfortunately, Adam was a certified Hal-addict.

  Nicholas said, “The money and the Hal will be yours after you cooperate. You'll have enough money to rent a nice apartment at the border and you'll have enough Hal to last you a week or two. Help me, Adam. Tell me about the local resistance. Tell me about the deviants that raided the Manzanita Apartments.”

  Adam stared at the small bag like an alcoholic leering at a shot of whiskey. He loudly swallowed, then he said, “They... They're known as the Association of Human and Android Relations. Around here, we just call them 'The Association.' Everyone knows what they're up to, man. They're a resistance group looking to–to make peace between humans and androids. Poor people around here help them out, too. They just want peace between everyone, that's all.”

  “Did they raid the Manzanita Apartments?”

  “Y–Yes...”

  Nicholas asked, “Where are they hiding?”

  Alex struggled to swallow the lump in his throat, as if he were trying to swallow a golf ball. He was conflicted, struggling to overcome his addiction.

  Dangling the offer in front of the young man, Nicholas said, “An entire bag of Hal and enough money to last you weeks. Hell, you don't even have to rent an apartment. You can run off with one of these strippers or meet up with a prostitute. Tell me: where are they?”

  Adam nervously smiled as he glanced down at himself, ashamed. He realized he could not resist the tempting offer. He could not trump the powerful urge. Hal was hardwired into his mind, teasing his every thought. He needed a fix, but he couldn't bring himself to confess. The Association would surely hunt him down if he revealed the truth.

  Traitors didn't last long in life.

  Adam said, “I don't know...”

  Nicholas grabbed his shirt at the chest and said, “We can always do this the hard way, sir. I don't want to spill more blood, but I will do anything to save that infant.”

  “Infant?”

  “Yes. Your little resistance group killed a young couple and they kidnapped their child. I need to find her.”

  Adam frowned upon hearing the poignant tale. He said, “I really don't know where they're hiding, but I know someone who does.”

  “Who?”

  “A woman. Her name is Lynn. Lynn Fisher. She's a prostitute. She... She usually wears a–a blonde wig. Trust me, you'll notice her. You can find her a few blocks down on Crawford Street. She's there all day.”

  Nicholas tilted his head as he examined every nook and cranny on Adam's face. He stared deeply into his eyes, reading every minuscule twitch and glance. The young man was frightened, the mounting fear was evident, but he wasn't lying.

  The police android asked, “Is she part of the resistance?”

  Adam responded, “I don't know if she's an 'official' member, but I know she's affiliated with them. She gives them a place to hide. She's... She's just a resource, but I'm sure she knows where they're hiding. Please, don't tell her I told you. Don't tell anyone I told you.”

  Nicholas patted Adam's shoulder and said, “Don't worry, sir. You're in safe hands. I'll handle everything.” He tossed the bag on the cushion beside the young man. He said, “The money has been transferred to your account. If you inform the resistance about my search, you will be immediately convicted of aiding a terrorist group. The punishment: execution. You have been warned. Please, have a nice day.”

  Eyes brimming over with tears, Adam watched as Nicholas marched out of the room. He glanced at his phone and considered calling his contacts. The Hal on the cushion beside him caught his attention, though. With Hal whispering into his ears, seducing him with honeyed words, the resistance could wait.

  Chapter Eight

  Android of the Night

  Conditions worsened with each block traveled south. The buildings were still wide and crowded, but there were more abandoned stores and condemned apartments at every corner. Aside from the occasional police cruiser, there were no other active vehicles on the streets. Only a few junkyard cars were scattered across the cracked roads. People walked in every direction, ignoring the sidewalks and crosswalks.

  As he parked on the corner of Crawford Street, Nicholas whispered, “What the hell is going on down here?” He weaved and bobbed his head, glancing over the shambling crowds. He said, “There's no law down here. There's no respect. There's no sympathy. Where are the cops? Where is the aid? Where is the... the humanity?”

  The dilemma was strange – ironic, in a sense. Androids were created to serve humans. Androids were programmed to accommodate and cherish human life. Yet, humans did not seem to care for each other. Survival of the fittest was a common belief among people. Everyone was racing to the top of the ladder, indifferent to the people they pushed down to reach their goals.

  Thudding on the passenger seat window disrupted the quiet contemplation.

  Nicholas furrowed his brow upon spotting the sooty hand knocking on his window. A frail elderly man with a grand beard down to his slow beating heart stood outside of the vehicle. The man nodded at the police android as if the inconsequential gesture would capture his attention. He knocked again, but to no avail.

  In a gravelly tone, the man asked, “Can you spare a buck?” Nicholas shook his head – no. Reluctant, the homeless man asked, “Spare... Spare some Hal?”

  In a loud, stentorian tone, Nicholas said, “Step away from the vehicle sir. Do not force me to subdue you.”

  The man leaned away from the car, baffled by the threat. He simply sought a dollar for food, some Hal to escape. He figured an android would understand the struggle of the poor, but he found himself with the same response – no.

  Nicholas watched as the man straggled away. He would have gladly offered the man money and a helping hand, but he did not have cash on him. He could transfer money from his account in the blink of an eye, but he could not transfer cash to a person without a bank account. A buzzing sound echoed through the android's head – an incoming call.

  Over the radio, Oscar asked, “Nicholas, where are you?”

  Audibly, Nicholas responded, “I'm on Crawford Street in the Colonia Borough. I'm following a lead provided by Adam Jensen.”

  “Good job, champ. We came across some information at a hideout that might be able to help you out.”

  “Sure. Anything helps, sir.”

  “The female suspect from the Manzanita Apartments is named 'Doris.' She is a three-year-old service android. She's an early deviant. I'm willing to bet every penny in my account that she was hacked and radicalized by a resistance group. The evidence is stacking against her. This isn't the minor leagues.”

  “I'm willing to bet it was the Association of Human and Android
Relations.”

  In a surprised tone, loud and dubious, Oscar repeated, “The Association?” He sighed loudly into his radio, clearly flustered by the revelation. He said, “We should have checked into them first. Since you're closer, I want you to continue investigating. I want you to find Doris. We'll continue raiding their hideouts at the border. We don't want their crap to spill past our defenses. Good luck, Nick.”

  Nicholas sat in silence as the transmission ended. He recorded the conversation, saving the file in the police database as procedure demanded. He found an image of Doris in the apartment in his memory bank. The young woman still did not seem malicious. She certainly didn't seem like the type to harm an infant. Something was afoot, but he still had to find the trail to reach the finish line.

  He opened his door, then he stood beside his vehicle. He tilted his head as he stared over the crowds of people and battered droids. From afar, he could see his target – Lynn Fisher.

  Lynn stood near a grimy alleyway, calling to each passing person. Man, woman, or child, she did not seem to care about her potential clients or their preferences. Like most workers in the poor neighborhood, she simply sought to make a quick buck. She sold her body for fifteen minutes in exchange for food, cash, or Hal.

  And, it was a difficult sale considering her condition.

  Lynn stood five-three with a slim physique. She wore a tousled blonde wig. A few of the locks were brown and black due to the age and filth. She wore a tattered white tank top, a skimpy black skirt, ripped fishnet tights, and black high heels. Like many of the people in the neighborhood, she was clearly homeless. However, she was not like everyone else. She was different.

  Nicholas whispered, “Lynn, Lynn, Lynn... Who are you? What are you doing in a place like this?” He closed and locked his car door. As he walked through the crowd, he said, “Let's find out.”

  ***

  With his hands in his coat pockets, Nicholas strolled towards the alleyway. He jostled past the people on the sidewalk, never taking his eyes off of the suspected prostitute. With his clean shoes and flawless skin, he stood out like a sore thumb. The people, however, did not notice him. A few thugs watched him from afar and considered robbing him, but they knew they wouldn't stand a chance against a police android.