TO got a photo of Pearla before they left to go home, so as they headed back towards the Tube they ran her photo through the network. There wasn’t a flag on her file but she had a note marking her as  a person of interest to the Arkanian authorities. 

“She’s not done anything, technically.” TO said as they scanned through her records, “But in the last few months she’s been fraternizing with a handful of people who all have extensive records. She’s also been seen in dangerous places that she’s never really gone to before.” They frowned. “A few months ago, there was nothing. Suddenly her actions have changed, and she’s hanging around criminals and going to strange places.” 

“We know she’s part of the insurgency!” DH said, their ears back and twitching, “She understood us, and it wasn’t the same as with Philo where context would help her!” They looked to TO, their ears sinking down, “This just confirms it. The insurgency has some of us! They know our language, they know what we look like!” 

All TO could think of was GiDi. Did the insurgency have them? Were they being tortured for more information? A flicker of rage shot through TO like lightning; if the insurgency hurt GiDi, they’d tear through the insurgency on their own. They’d rip apart the leaders with their own claws. 

Of course, they’d do that to save GiDi, regardless. 

“You said that was only in the last few months though.” DH said, “What was she doing before that?” 

“According to her file, she runs a… Well, a medical center is a bit of a push; it’s more of a care center. They give food, shelter, and medical attention to people who need it.” 

“Nobody should need it.” DH huffed, “Under King Decon, those things should available for every citizen.” 

“Under King Decon, a civilian should get medical equipment like a wheelchair for free.” TO said, “But Lendulin still didn’t qualify for one.” They frowned, feeling the anger swell inside them. What was Arkane’s leadership doing!? There were specific laws in place; specific guidelines, and if felt like Arkane’s leadership was subverting it, gaming them, and finding loopholes. “I need to report this to Ark-1 when we get back. We’ll get information from them and then approach the Vassel and praetors.” 

“Do you think they’ll do anything?” DH said, “I’m not sure that-“ They cut themself off with a yelp, stumbling forward as someone ran into them; no- something. The robot that had been in the tube with them ran into DH, stumbled over them, grabbed their bag before taking off down the street and into the darkness. 

“Get back here!” DH shouted. The bot ignored them.

“We’re not synths right now.” TO said, “They won’t stop for strangers!”

They ran after them, but DH tripped as soon as they started running. TO turned and saw that the heel on one of their shoes had broken. 

“Go! Don’t lose them; they have our med kit!” DH said, their ears pinned down in panic. 

TO only hesitated for a moment before running down the street to catch up to the robot. 

They followed the robot as it left the main street and ran through alleyways and away from the streets and functioning street lights. When they followed it down a dark alley, they took their chance; they held their wrist and turned on their armor again. As the helmet encased TO’s head, it filtered the background noises of the city which had kept them from noticing the robot earlier, so they could now focus properly. The moment they caught sight of the robot again, they activated pursuit mode. The helmet noted the target and filtered information to TO while surrounding the target with a glowing red outline. 

Robot type 2; manual service class. 

AI level; Unavailable

ID; Unavailable. 

TO hoped that they just needed to get closer for their system to pick up on the proper identifications, but they didn’t think it would. This bot had stolen from them; technically, it had assaulted DH and stolen their bag. A bot shouldn’t be able to do that regardless of its AI level. They shouldn’t be able to do anything that’s against the law. 

They needed to catch it; it was dangerous. Someone had bypassed their legal programming so if ordered, there was no limit to the number of destructive things they could do, or the people they could hurt. 

The moment they got out of the narrower alleyway and to a major street again, they spread their wings and took off, hoping to catch up faster in the air. It had been so long since had flown that TO nearly forgot they were chasing something. They just wanted to fly about, to soar and swoop as they used to in training. Civilians had to fly in designated flight areas, but a synth they could fly where they pleased. The feeling of the wind under their wings after so long was incredible. They hadn’t really realized how much they missed flying, and now that void in their life almost brought them to tears. 

As much as they suddenly wanted to give up the chase and fly until they fell exhausted, they couldn’t; they had to deal with the situation.

TO caught up to the robot, dove feet first, and slammed them against the ground. They jumped off, skidded to a stop just in front of the robot, took their multi-fin and shot at the knees- three times each to make sure they got it- to it couldn’t run. They also didn’t want the bot to attack them, so they did the same to each shoulder. Oil leaked onto the streets from the torso, a distant streetlight giving it streaks of green.

It’s not blood. TO reminded themself. If it was blood, there’d be a lot more. This was just a machine. 

A machine that had broken its rules. 

The first thing TO did was find the bag. When TO tackled the bot, it dropped the bag, and TO worried that some of the oil had stained DH’s new bag, but it was fine. The med kit was still there, thankfully, and didn’t seem damaged. Had this been a civilian, TO probably would have simply reported them to the local authorities and let them deal with a petty thief; it was a crime, of course, but not one that one would expect a synth to deal with. 

This wasn’t a civilian though; this was a robot. A basic manual labour robot. Even the most advanced AI allowed wouldn’t be able to commit a robbery of any kind! If they got to a point where logic suggested that a crime could be allowed, their logic centers would overhead and force a reset. Legal hardware wouldn’t allow for thought processes above a certain level; anything too complex forced a reset and blacked out that train of thought. 

TO kicked the robot over so they could see their face and chest plate; normally there’d be an ID or a barcode or something to identify them by, but there was nothing. Their helmet tried to get an ID again, but it was still unavailable. 

“What’s your ID code?” TO demanded as they set one foot on the robot’s chest. 

“My apologies, honored synth.” The robotic voice echoed from within its chest plate, “I seem to not possess an ID code. This suggests that I may have been stolen, or tampered with.” 

At least it was compliant. “Why did you try to steal this bag?” TO said, “Your programming should have prevented you from stealing anything.” 

“I was not stealing the bag.” The robot responded, the voice cold and placid. “That was not my intention.” 

“What was your intention; state your orders.” 

“My orders were as follows; I was to locate the two synths and draw them into the alleys. There were supposed to be two; where is the other synth?” 

 Equal parts worry and hope flooded through TO’s mind. That this robot knew what they looked like out of armor was problematic. It meant that it was likely part of the insurgency as well. However, the robot had no choice but to respond truthfully and comply with what TO demanded of them. 

“How do you know what synths look like?” TO demanded, “Who showed you that?” 

The robot was silent, then shuddered as the lights behind its eyes went out. The helmet started scanning, trying to pull data from the robot’s chips. It recorded a faint smell of burning and detected no signals coming from the robot. 

== damage detected; please perform maintenance==  

TO looked at the message that flashed across their helmet, and though they knew very little about the mechanics of robots, there were basic maintenance procedures that any civilian could do. TO pressed the safety on the back of the robot’s head and the breast-plate came loose and revealed the mess of mechanics inside. The area around the processor was giving off smoke; it had overheated and fried itself. The wires that should have led to the emergency shutdown center were missing, which meant that when the processor overheated, there was nothing to keep it from burning up inside the robot’s head. 

Had the terminal overhead started when they took the bag, or had it started with TO’s questioning? Right now, they had no way of knowing. 

They reached into the chest cavity and pulled out three separate storage drives. The damage didn’t seem to spread to the drives, so maybe TO and DH could get something out of it. They put it in the bag; it could wait for later. TO looked around, scanning for anything moving in corners that TO didn’t notice, for sounds that they might not pay attention to. They could pick up nothing but the sound of pests scurrying around in the darkness. Either the robot hadn’t lured TO to where they wanted to, or their owner had already run off. 

Either way, TO didn’t want to stick around. They took to the skies again and headed back to DH.