The tale:

I absorbed everything without moving my head; as a veteran of such endeavors, I knew that appearances were important. Rubbernecking like a tourist inside a bank was a sure way to get singled out. I shouldn't even be taking a risk like this; as a wanted criminal in America here on a fake visa, committing what would surely be a high profile bank robbery was tantamount to
closing a cell door on myself.

But Ekaterina wanted her money NOW, and my accounts had been found (I knew it could only be Adlevo, curse that man to hell!) and frozen. Until I could set up another account I was broke.

I dare anyone to try telling a former Russian agent and current mercenary that one does not have the funds to pay them after commissioning them for a job. What if she asked for the return of the CPU she'd stolen? I couldn't hand it back, I had dismantled it in order to learn about the technical advances that had so intrigued me when I'd read about them in 'popular mechanics'. To think that normal, non gifted humans could come up with such a novel approach to processor manufacture?

Layering a multi-core processor of all things! I had simply had to know how it had been done!

I was paying for that decision now, in a most literal sense. Security had taken one look at my 'Theo Pasteur' persona and waved me right through, thankfully. My robots were in position, and none seemed the wiser. The only worrying trifle was that the banks' security 'bots were Adlevo AC12's. Not his state of the art, at all... but possibly more than a bank should have?
Last I knew the 12's were still used by the American military as border patrol and national guard backup. They haven't been frontline units since the 16's were put into production, and that was years ago. So just maybe, my information was old?

It was too late to back out now in any case, I'd already entered the bank. If I tried to leave now without doing anything I'd be stopped and questioned, at the very least. Time to take a chance. My series 7's versus Adlevo's combat series 12's would never work. When my time in front of the teller came improvisation would be key. I grabbed a deposit slip and wrote on it while the line shortened.

"Good afternoon sir."

I read the name tag of the bright almost criminally perky blonde behind the bulletproof and laser resistant glass.

"Good afternoon Rebecca. How are you this fine, if cold, day?"

I put my (scribbled so badly a doctor or pharmacist wouldn't be able to read it) deposit slip through the small slit designed for the purpose, and then fumbled most convincingly with my pockets - I was sure to try to add a touch of shock, and she seemed to buy it.

"I'm sorry Rebecca, I came here to deposit a check but I seem to have left it in my car. I'll just get out of the way, go get it, and see you again before you have a chance to miss me! Be right back."

She flashed me another smile, her teeth serving as perfect mirrors reflecting the light. She could smile up a runway so well planes could no doubt land. Too much tooth brightener perhaps?

"Excuse me sir."

Uh oh. No nonsense tone, and I'm very close to the door. That can only mean one thing. Security. I turned into the face of a police officer no less, in full uniform and tactical gear; now where had he come from? He was followed by his squad, marching out of one of the back offices. Damn, somehow the authorities had known I was coming.

"Please come with us sir."

I knew playing for time likely wouldn't work, but it never hurts to try.

"Did I do something wrong officer?"

I rotated my wrist in a predetermined manner; the code red circuit broke. My loyal troops came up through the oft overlooked floor, as planned, spouting the code phrase and firing their ion cannon into the ceiling.

"Do not resist, puny humans!"

Good the message was recieved; they would do no lasting harm to anyone, and just cover my escape. As everyone else turned to deal with the 'threat', I managed to evade the policeman's clumsy grab and make it out the door. then the firing began in earnest. My bots didn't have machine guns... but the adlevo's did. So he was playing for keeps; I wouldn't have much time.

All that loss of life was unnecessary.

I hit 1 on my phone, the signal of course, for immediate cover and evacuation. Smart phones were such a wonderful invention; you could do so much with them. The first signal for such went out with my circuit of course, but it never hurt to have an alternate plan. Unfortunately I wasn't the only one to have such.

The last thing I expected was an Adlevo AC15. Most definately military, a special forces model, looking nearer to human than my own could. Excepting of course, the built in forearm plasma cannons. It sickened me. It raised it's arms, sighting the cannons, and I could read the serial number with crystal clarity. Most cliche, but time seemed to slow.

I beat it to the draw, uncovering the port of the small taser I'd built into my winter coat, and fired. It dropped and I didn't waste time; Adlevo was really serious about killing me this time. An idle thought about what I might have done to finally push him over the edge almost made me miss the scraping sounds behind me.

The damn thing had just taken a jolt that even my own best models were not rated for. Next time I'd have to employ something else. If there was a next time. I turned, backpedalling. The taser was a one shot deal, but just maybe....

Ha, I was right; several actuators were damaged; it was limping and could not raise it's weapon arms. With just a little distance I could....

It fired as I turned to run, a near miss which sent me flying. I was pretty sure pieces of sidewalk grazed my head and leg, because when sense returned, both were bleeding. Had that been a mini missile? Surely not, not even Adlevo would dare to arm those in the middle of a city! but plasma weapons melted, not exploded....

I blinked as a piece of rubble bounced off the head of the machine, and it wobbled.

"That's right, eat concrete!"

A man older than myself (perhaps mid 50's), balding and ruddy faced stood in a classic pitcher's pose. He was fit, scarred, and seemed angry. The android turned to regard him, it's head angled akwardly. Give a choice of targets, but with the safeties regarding human life disabled in at least one case (mine). Hmm, this will not end well.

"You shouldn't have done that sir, and you should run now. This android's CPU is damaged; it will kill with no hesitation."

It was even then trying to lift it's arm to shoot me; I staggered to my feet. Another pice of sidewalk bounced off the android's head.

"Yep, sure looks like it. But it looks like it's trying to decide between us, and it can't move it's arm up very far; can you walk?"

"No sir, but I might be able to shamble or failing that, crawl very quickly. You should leave now, before it decides which one of us it wants."

I knew who it wanted; it wanted me. It had orders to kill me, I was certain. However in it's damaged state, with a 'threat' putting up resistance.... Well, I wouldn't give odds on who it decided to fire on first under these circumstances. It turned to me once again, and I shambled a bit before dizziness took it's toll and I fell.

Then our luck ran out. A third piece of aerial concrete hit the machines' arm... and unfroze the shoulder actuator. It raised the weapon to fire; I could see the inside of the barrel cowling.

And the gentleman pitcher appeared behind it, pinning it's arms to it's sides in a bear hug.

"Get up and run!"

Shocked I could only watch as the android, CPU failing, did the one thing garaunteed to remove it's attacker. It touched off it's plasma weapon at both their feet.

What was left was not pretty. In fact I hope never to see such horror again. But just in the nick of time were my secondary escorts; I kicked aside the remains of the AC15.

"Lift him."

"Lift him sir? Who do you mean?"

I winced. Human recognition software wasn't designed for this event. I pointed at the wheezing burbling mess, still somehow clinging to life.

"Lift that gently; you lift me, and let's make your best speed to the safehouse."

*****************************************************

"And now you know everything Mr. Perez. I only knew who he was after the process; quite ironic the turns of fate. I did not expect the process to work at all; but that amount of will.... That pure desire to live needed a response, you know? The only thing I could think to do was to map the brain while it lived, get as much of the information as I could, and simulate it as
best as I was able."

"But how do you even go about doing something like that?"

"Well it's been something I was working on, taking maps of the thought processes of the human brain to allow various androids to act more human; if you can get the area where motor responses and other such troubling areas are dealt with mapped properly you can translate the data into something a processor emulate, if not fully understand. The final piece of the puzzle in fact was why I came to America in the first place and...."

"Nevermind Doctor Langford, I don't really care all that much. The final step was the processor theft from intel?"

He hunched over, withdrawing.

"I will neither confirm nor deny those scandalous accusations."

"So how much of him is in her?"

"I don't know. But she already shows emotion and acts perfectly passable. She has memories of her past; I'm not certain how much but having anything at all is stunning. The mapping process succeeded beyond my wildest expectations. Past results were not as promising."

I'm certain the temperature in the room raised several degrees.

"You've done this before?"

"What? no, not like this! I wasn't ready for human trials. The events at the bank forced my hand. Otherwise I'd have had...."

"What doctor? I didn't quite hear you."

"I said, otherwise I'd have had a different body ready. That body is obviously not designed for a man."

I understood. In his own way, he'd done what he could. Not without an eye towards scientific gain, but with at least one eye on trying to return the favor he owed a dying man. A rush job, crazy technology, and insane results. Pretty typical gifted fare.

"But back to my earlier point; you cannot tell her that she isn't a cyborg. If you do tell her without determining how she will react, you run the risk of completely ruining the experiment."

The room was getting hot again. I'd have to speak about someone soon, the temperature control seemed to be on the fritz.

"And why would I care about that?"

"How would you likely react to being told you were not human? That in effect you were a soulless doll with no rights?"

A good question, and not as rhetorical as I'd like to believe.

"I...don't know. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like the idea."

Or the treatment I'd likely receive from my own government, or the random private corporate entities who would pick over my carcass in the aftermath. He saw that I got it.

"Exactly! It would ruin...the experiment. She and all others must believe that she is just a well crafted cyborg."

I must be crazy for even thinking about going along with this, but.... I could see it. He honestly cared. This insane liar and thief who was facing a death penalty for murder and aggravated assault by unmanned vehicle, along with betrayal of the United States of America...had not once talked about himself, or cutting a deal. Only his unique creation... who may or may not be my friend.

Or at the very least, might be some of my friend. A new unique individual, who might need help. I sighed thinking of the amount of favors I'd need to call in. Well no time like the present to get it started... time to see the VIP in all this.

"Alright Doctor, I get it. Say no more to anyone else, I need to go interview a cyborg."

He nodded gratefully as I left, relief flooding him. Once the door was shut I reiterated:

"You know nothing, or it's a posting in the antartic for you. Just one person dooms all of you. Provided you all stay mute, you all get the promotion of working with me on a special project. Even the stress tester."

I pinned them in place with my gaze till they all nodded, then left. Next stop was the end of the hall.

"Hello, Joe. What do you know?"

She looked up and smiled; it wasn't his smile, yet somehow it was. A nice beaming smile that lit up the face that wore it, without a hint of self-consciousness or hesitation.

"Hey Marc, how's things in Atlantis?"

So, she did know things; at least Langford wasn't lying to me. I smiled at the old joke we'd coined. Atlantis being a land that never really existed, full of high tech wonders and human harmony, was perfect for our department. It also didn't exist and was supposedly filled with the same kind of harmony - which was to say none. I mock frowned.

"It has it's good days. This isn't one of them. How about you tell me all about why I had to get called out of bed so early?"

Her demeaner switched to bashful almost before I could blink. Almost too damn cute, like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. The Joe I knew couldn't have pulled bashful off.

"Well I kinda screwed up."

I snorted.

"Do tell."

"I was walking along, minding my own business, when a bleeding guy fell in front of me. A robot, damaged somehow, was aiming at him. I had forgotten my gun, but decided to intervene anyway when the robot fired - it was cutting loose with a plasma weapon. In a public place, in the late afternoon. It was some military model in military mode. I haven't been keeping up, so
I can't tell you what kind it was."

"How do you know it was a robot?"

She rolled her eyes at me, like an exasperated teenager. Odd as the thought was, I could see Joe doing that.

"It didn't respond to verbal hails, or taunts. It also capped off with no regard to bystander safety."

So far so good, this was all information gathered earlier from witnesses.

"Go on."

"Well, I couldn't tell it was set to kill until after I'd already bounced a rock off it's head. Of course it was too late to back off then, I was a target. Then it turned to the guy again, which made me realize... Marc, whoever programmed that bot sent it to assasinate the doc. It had a few chances to get rid of me, even had me pegged as a threat, but it always went straight
for him. whatever they tell you, it was intentional."

Honesty, with earnest entreaty; she was trying to convert me, to get me to believe something.

"You recognized Langford of course?"

"I did after I realized the bot was targeting him on purpose. Who's were they? Can you tell me?"

Puzzlement.

"They were Adlevo's."

Shock; pure and undiluted. In no way faked.

"but... that makes no sense at all; Adlevo is ours, and Langford is a bottom feeder. He would have no reason to call a hit on him unless...."

"Yes, unless there was something between them he wanted to hide. I already think I know what it is, that part of this mess will be easy enough to solve. But sheesh, you..."

I sighed heavily and she looked sheepish; each emotion she showed me was something a human would under the same circumstances; it was almost what Joe would have showed.

"I can keep you out of jail by explaining you were a hostage of sorts; you'll likely end up back at your old job. Langford however, is going to jail. No way around that. If we both work really hard, we may see that he only gets life."

Resignation and determination.

"Well it has to be done Marc; I need him, hes the only one that can fix me if I break. This body is too heavily modified to be left in the care of just anyone. At least anyone who can't manage a brain transplant surgery on the fly. Besides, he and I have a deal of sorts."

"He told me; for now you might as well get used to the new you. The trial alone will take months."

"I'll see what I can do about that, I still have a few favors I can call in. But for now, I'm going to need you to get me the chair."

"The chair?"

(tbc)