Page 4 of Codi
“See if he burns. Get your lighter.”
“Not so useful now, are you, you piece of shit?”
I frown and step forward, but Becca grabs my arm. “Denise, don’t.”
“Relax.” I pull out flash-mace from my purse. I never go anywhere without it, especially now with all of these Humanity First crazies from the news causing trouble. One point and click, and you’ve temporarily blinded a potential attacker. I don’t know why I care. Liquid courage, maybe, or the fact whoever they are sound like they’re up to no good and taking their own inferiority complexes out on someone else. If they’re hurting someone, I want to do something. I hate bullies, whatever shape and size they come in. I walk down the alleyway, sensing Becca at my back after a moment’s hesitation.
We turn the corner. The dumpster’s behind the bar. Three young men are drunk out of their minds, and one of them holds a lighter and burns something.
Not something. Someone.
A man’s arm drapes over the dumpster lip, a body thrown amid the garbage, and the men were laughing and burning his fingers.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I shout at them and storm forward.
Just hearing the angry mom voice is enough to send them scurrying away. When we’re sure they’re gone, we hurry to survey the damage.
“Is he okay? Is he burned?” Becca asks worriedly. “Maybe we should call the police.”
Leaning to get a closer look, I’m relieved. The burns from the lighter didn’t blister like true skin, more like plastic when it’s set on a hot surface, moments from becoming stringy. But it isn’t quite plastic, either. Something synthetic. As it melts away, blackened steel fingertips are visible.
“We don’t need to. It’s an android.” I begin pulling his arm.
“Who would throw away a perfectly good android?” Becca sounds heartbroken.
“Some jerkoff. Here, can you help me get him out?”
Heaving, the two of us awkwardly manage to drag him out of the dumpster and lay him on the cement. Becca texts Oliver in a flurry while I kneel over him and inspect him closely.
He’s been stripped of his clothes except for his briefs. Aside from his finger burns, he doesn’t appear to have any cuts or dents, at a first glance. Then I gently touch the back of his head and find a groove where something heavy made impact.
“Someone smashed his head in.”
“That’s awful.” Horrified, Becca leans over him too. “The poor thing. Can we wake him up?”
I try gently patting his face and speaking a little louder near his ear, but the android is ice cold and unresponsive. I look at Becca and helplessly shrug. “Do you think Oliver could do something?”
Becca calls him, and he answers immediately. After briefly summarizing what we’ve found, she puts him on speaker.
“Bring him home. I’ll wake him.”
* * *
Our driver must think we’re insane, piling into the back of his car with a half-naked man—who you can barely tell is an android—in between us. Thankfully, he wants a tip more than he wants answers, and aside from a few furtive glances, he doesn’t say much.
The android man is heavy. I don’t know why I thought bionics would be lighter. He definitely isn’t flimsy, and it’s difficult to pull him back out of the cab again when we arrive at my home.
Oliver opens my front door, holding their three-month-old son Aaron. He greets me with a nod and steps aside to let us in. “Here. I’ll take him.”
He gives Aaron to Becca, then slings the man’s arm over his shoulder, pulling the android away from me. He doesn’t even struggle with the weight like we did, bringing the limp body over to the couch.
With him taking over, the situation feels less dire. I can breathe easy. There’s nothing to worry about. Lucas is asleep in bed, and Oliver doesn’t appear overly worried.
“Did you see someone attack him?” Oliver asks as he situates the other man in a sitting position.
“No one,” Becca answers, her attention focused on the stranger as she balances the baby in one arm, who stares at me like I’m an alien from outer space with his mother’s big, bright blue eyes. Since Oliver can’t father children—robotic means no DNA—Becca used a donor and went through IVF treatment, wanting to carry the baby herself. Aaron’s a cute kid, and when I smile at him, he flashes a shy one right back at me before wiggling happily and burying himself in Becca’s shoulder.
I glance back to the discarded android, sitting there as though asleep. In the light of my living room I can finally get a good look at him.
