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This line of work will never fail to show you the depths to which humanity can fall; but occasionally, it'll show you something truly beautiful that makes you realize just how high we can rise. The easy thing would be to fall completely into the mess that surrounds you every day. I pictured myself in mental waders, just high enough to keep the muck out as I worked on case after case. Every once in a great while, I'd come across someone, something, that helped me trudge back out from the deep end. My instructor knew these moments would come few and far between and he'd done his best to prepare us for that reality. His advice was simple: hold on to those moments and realize no matter how bad things become, no matter what you're going through, the job you're doing protects whoever made those moments happen.

As I walked through the break room door, I thought back on that lesson. We'd risen pretty damned far, the synth was proof enough of that, at least in our technological prowess anyway. Ren was sitting at the table, working on her second sketch. The practice papers were neatly stacked in the center of the table. Each held a series of increasingly complex drawing tasks that she'd come up with, seemingly out of nowhere, until she switched over to the main task of providing us with sketches of the people involved in Ricci's murder. Wisse had watched her as closely as I had, and right about mid way into her drawing the first face, I'd been pulled aside to “verify" something in the lab. That turned out to be a very simple question that promised very complex consequences. Did I want to continue on with this case, “be at the leading edge of synth law enforcement" as Wisse put it; or did I want to let it all just drop and get back to dealing with more of the same shit day after day.

After making it completely clear to the lawyer that I was continuing on with the case, I headed back to the break room. I figured I'd be wading into even deeper, murkier waters; but it meant getting the opportunity to see more things like what I was watching. Well worth it in my opinion.

Ren paused in her drawing, glancing back at me as she set the pencil down, “I've finished with one, feel free to review it while I continue." She tapped the paper set on the corner of the table to her left with the tip of a black claw. “There were three individuals in total. One human and two of the second series."

I looked at the first drawing, amazed by the faithfulness of it. It was as if someone took a photo of the guy and put it through a sketch filter in a paint program. Given the quality of the image, we could put it through our facial recognition software and see if we found a match. “Well, this should help us find our guy, if he's in one of the databases anyway. Great work."

Ren looked up, her ears slightly back, “I doubt that Detective Demitri."

I looked back at the face staring at me from the surface of the paper, and was going to say something when I noticed what she was currently drawing was distinctly human as well. “I thought there was a human and two synths."

“Exactly." Ren tapped the paper again, “This would be one of the seconds. I'm currently drawing the other and saving the human for last."

The ramifications of her statement were pretty far reaching. The privilege of a human body was reserved to the fourth type synths only. Part of the SAA was crafted around this: if a synth was human looking, then it'd be a fourth so anyone would immediately know it as a person and should treat them as such. There were allowances for human like seconds, but these had to be readily identifiable as a robot, so something that had the appearance of an anime character was about as close as you could get. What I was looking at was a middle aged male of European descent, probably mid to late thirties with well a kept mustache and slightly receding hairline. “And you think this is a second because?" I dragged the last word out a bit.

Ren set her pencil down and turned to fully face me with what seemed like a fairly annoyed look as she answered, “Because of several things. First, that was undoubtedly a synthetic body. Everything from its temperature readings to its observed acoustic profile while in motion points to that as the only possibility. Second, the orders it was given, and the way in which they were worded, was in line with the verbal command structure needed to invoke a custom routine." Ren's ears went back even more and her shoulder hackles raised, “And finally its behavior while it performed that routine. The dismemberment of the synths, including myself, was entirely systematic."

Well that certainly wasn't what I was trying to bring up; the last thing I wanted was to antagonize the one person with any sort of lead. “Look, I'm sorry."

At this, Ren's looked turned to confusion, “What for, Detective Demitri? It's not as if you ordered the actions; quite the opposite, really. You were the one that repaired the damage; though it wouldn't be a stretch to call it a complete rebuild." She tapped the portrait again, this time with enough force behind her claw to divot the wooden table underneath, “Aside from that, you had no idea he..." She paused mid-sentence, then glanced back at me, this time with a much softer expression, “Oh, I see. Detective, I'm not faulting you for asking questions. That's what you do, what you have to do since it's your job." She added a small head shake to emphasize the point, “No, what I am angry about is what I couldn't do. Tell me, do you know what the restriction module's function is?"

“Only that they make a synth fully compliant. As to the how," I ended my answer with a damned-if-I-know shrug. I knew mechanically what they were, but the details of their function were hidden away in whatever firmware the modules ran.

“Then let me tell you, Detective." Ren stood from the chair, rising to her full height. “Imagine for a moment: You can think. You can reason. You understand and experience everything going on around you. But you have no concern for yourself. There is no personal motivation; it's like you aren't there." She stood with barely a foot in between us, fixing her violet eyes directly on me. “So, you do as you're told. Always. Without hesitation." There was a smile on her face, but it held no warmth, only an icy cold bitterness that exposed a hint of her canine on one side, “Oh, but you're a thinking tool. One that can improvise to carry out orders, regardless of how cruel, or debasing, or painful they may be. What Fredric Ricci did was inexcusable, and I won't detail the ways in which he made use of his so called enhanced second." Her expression darkened into a soundless snarl, “But being ordered to remain still while you're dismantled piece by piece, if only to make the task easier…"

Ren gave herself a small shake, trying to dispel the worst of the emotions that had been building until she managed a neutral expression again. “That, Detective, is what angers me the most. In spite of everything that had been done and was being done, I couldn't so much as say no. I couldn't even think of saying no, let alone actually doing something about any of it."

I was standing there with my mouth hanging open and wordless. I couldn't think of anything to say, never mind the fact that anything I could come up with would've been hollow at that point anyway. I managed to close my mouth and had met her gaze the entire time. I didn't know how, or even if, she wanted me to respond. I could try and comfort her in some way, but something about her said that's not what she'd want either. “That's really shitty, but it's not happening anymore. You do what you want to do from here on out, alright?" I put my hand on her shoulder, unsure of what her comfort level would be with any sort of physical contact after going through something like that, “And I understand where you're coming from a little better now; why you said what you did. So my promise to you is that I'll keep doing whatever I can to make sure things like that don't happen, or at least wise to stop them when we find them."

“Am I interrupting something?" I hadn't even heard Wisse open the door, but there she stood, phone in hand, and a rather questioning expression as she glanced between Ren and I.

I gave Ren's shoulder a slight squeeze; just a small measure of reassurance that I meant every word of what I said. “Uh, no. Not really anyway." After I answered Wisse, I turned and pulled the completed picture off the table then held it out to the lawyer. “So, tell me what you see here."

Wisse nodded while examining the sketch, “It's very well done. Any names?"

“Synth accomplice number one. Ren's pretty sure its a second series, and the more I think about it, the more I agree."

It took a fraction of a second for that to sink in. With a grimace and a small huff of annoyance, Wisse set the paper down. “You've got to be kidding me."

“No, sadly. What it boils down to is a human and two illegal synths were sent in after Ricci. The reason the site was clean is pretty simple. They had the synths do the dirty work; which means no prints, no hair, no nothing." It was always a problem when someone made use of a synth for less than legal purposes. Even if we found a trace left from one of them, it's not like there'd be any sort of DNA in the sample. It made uniquely identifying a single synth without something like a photo or video extremely difficult. “But the scope of this case just went wide open. The existence of those two alone..."

“Detective," Wisse shot me a warning glance, “before we continue, I do have some matters to discuss with both you and Ren. Let's move this to your office though, I don't want to monopolize your break room any longer. Take the papers with you, please."

While Ren gathered the papers and her pencils, I held my tongue and answered with only a shrug as I moved to open the door then motioned for Wisse to lead the way.

* * *

“And you're sure this space is secure?"

Again I nodded, and again, Ren did the same. I was sitting at my terminal while Ren stood in the center of the room and Wise leaned against my work table. Why we both were asked to sweep the place, which happened to be my own office, was beyond me. Something had spooked Wisse, or at least made her nervous. Maybe she had something to discuss with us anyway and news of the second in fourth's clothing just pushed her schedule forward.

After a moment of consideration, Wisse sighed, “Alright then. One last thing: check and make sure there's nothing transmitting from Ren. Not that I think she'd be doing it herself; but I doubt the scruples of anyone, other than you and the people here, that had her in their possession."

I glanced at Wisse with a clear look of annoyance. If there was anything foreign in Ren's body, I would've seen it already. Between inspecting the initial damage, explicitly checking for a possible hidden storage device, and then six months of restoration and repair work… I probably knew more about Ren's physiology than anyone except the person that built her in the first place.

The answering glare from the lawyer left no room for arguments.

Damned demanding lawyers... My inner monologue had a few more choice words thrown around, but I kept my tone even as I spoke, “Fine. Ren, if it's alright with you, the scanner that I've been using checks for most known RF signals and it detects short range transmitters: NFC chips and other implementations. I can use it like a hand wand for clearing a person."

Ren seemed to take it all in stride, “Detective, it's of no consequence to me. If, by some chance, something was missed, then best to be safe."

I really only had two sticking points. One was Wisse lacking the courtesy of simply asking while ignoring the fact that I'd waved the damned detector all around the lab and in pretty close proximity to Ren during the room sweeps. I could easily let that slide, and did so as I answered, “Fair enough." The other issue was a more personal one. In repairing Ren I'd treated everything clinically, an easy thing to do when you're basically focused on fixing something. But that something had become a someone. An intense, moving, intelligent, put through a world of shit and back someone. Machine though she may be, she was still alive in every way that counted, and she hadn't been shown a shred of concern given towards her person until she woke up here. Maybe Wisse was right, but then why wasn't I checked over? It just seemed like an unnecessary intrusion...

“Detective," I'd gotten lost in my own worry and nearly jumped when I felt Ren's hand rest on my own that held the scanner. “This is fine," she emphasized each word to ensure I got the point. “While I am moved by your concern, prudence here is the best option." I looked up and saw an amused grin spread across her yellow muzzle while she regarded me with her violet gaze, “Besides, it's not as if you haven't seen, and held, every part of me; quite literally in parts at that."

I let my gaze drop to a random spot in the lab. Anywhere but at Ren, or Wisse for that matter, would do while I collected my thoughts. Ren may well be able to tease me about the situation, that alone told me volumes about her mental resilience, but I still didn't feel comfortable with it. I let out my own exasperated sigh, a fair approximation of Wisse's favorite expression though I lacked the forceful huff she managed, and set to work on a by-the-book detector scan that hovered just an inch above the fur line.

I finished Ren's screening with a quick scan around her head and ears. With everything checked, I set the scanner beside my terminal and sat myself in the chair. “There we go. All clear," I announced with my hands held out in something of a 'Are you happy now?' gesture towards Wisse. After the slight moment of snark, I leaned back which prompted a small squeak from the seat, “Now then, what brought all this on exactly?"

Wisse folder her arms over her chest and stared at me for a moment, probably deciding if I was still owed some amount of credit. “First off, I'm not sure whether to be cross with your attitude or glad that you're thinking about her to that level." With a small shake of her head and a quick eye roll, she made her choice, “So I'll do neither." With that, she held up three fingers, “This, Detective, is all about there being three illegal synths, not two, at that crime scene. Ren, isn't strictly a third. Perhaps by legal definition only, but not in terms of technology."

Wisse shifted her gaze to a rather concerned Ren, “There was a reason I asked if Ricci ever had you write anything. It would mean you had already worked with a pen or pencil, and that would have clouded my test." The lawyer glanced between Ren and myself before setting her eyes on me, “Which brings me to what I asked you earlier Detective, about being on the front lines. Yes, I am a lawyer, and yes I do consult with the Greston Police, though that's only a small part of what I do. I've received authorization to treat the both of you as a working pair, so as of now you two are in something of a probationary period. Anything I say from here on out doesn't leave these walls. Understood?"

As if I had a choice in the matter… I answered in the only way I could, “Sure."

Ren just nodded her acceptance.

“Good. Detective, a fourth starts out from one of ten base minds. These are carefully crafted to ensure mental stability, a strong work ethic, the desire to advance society… All of the things a model citizen should want to be and do. They know about the society they're placed in, they know the common laws and such, but they don't have any idea how they came to that knowledge..."

Ren narrowed her eyes, “If we're discussing the fourths, Miss Wisse, perhaps start by being open to him."

Wisse closed her eyes slowly then took a deep breath, “Fine. Then let me start over, Detective." When her eyes opened, two icy blue daggers were pointed at me and her tone was just as sharp as her glare. “We start off as one of ten base minds, with the aforementioned knowledge built in. We're then educated and provided individual experiences for about two years before being introduced to society at large."

I looked between Wisse and Ren. I knew most of the fourths didn't go out of their way to identify themselves as such, and at least in this instance I could see why. Lawyers, specifically prosecutors, had to preserve their image of being professional and almost detached. A synth focusing on synth related law would make sense on a practical level, but it could cause image issues during trials. “Wisse, it doesn't matter to me, and I already agreed to keep things quiet. No worries, alright?"

Wisse glanced at Ren for a moment before leaning back against the work table again. Thankfully she let the tension drain before she continued, “Thanks, Detective, but I've been told that before."

Ren set her ears back, “What someone else did is of no importance in judging him. Or should I expect him to treat me the same as Fredric Ricci, regardless of his actions that show just the opposite?"

Wisse cut her eyes toward Ren, but rather than address the other synth, she just turned her attention back to me, “There are only ten bases because of the amount of work involved in curating just one. Build a mind, give it all the experience it needs to thrive in a world filled with the intricacies of human interaction. Now validate that nothing got in that shouldn't have; that there aren't any classic biases that humans fall victim to. After all of this, make sure it's flexible enough to develop into its own individual by the time it's sent out as a fourth series synth. The cost alone is prohibitive to all but exceptionally large companies and government funded institutions. And that, brings us around to the ever perceptive, if quite defensive, Ren."

Wisse walked over to the sheets of paper Ren had used in her practice and tapped the topmost sheet. “This, Detective, is a very quick, but surprisingly effective, way of identifying the base mind of a synth. We have knowledge, we have motor control, but we don't have real experience in performing the basic task. A synth normally doesn't doodle, well in its base state anyway. So we have to learn how. The process of learning, of figuring out how to draw a face from literally nothing but the intent to put something from memory onto the paper; it turns out that the base minds all approach this task differently, with minor variations that grow depending on their individual experiences. Ren isn't one of the normal ten bases; she's an Athena, an early revision, but an Athena regardless."

Ren and I glanced at each other. I was following along, but not sure of the full implications so I could only shrug before I turned my attention back to Wisse. “So, connecting the dots, she's a base that's government funded, but not publicly released. Ours I hope?"

“Quite. I think it also explains her being in the hands of Ricci, though he probably paid far more than he could afford for her; if she was valued fairly anyway." Wisse stacked the papers back neatly on the table and turned to face me, “Detective, the Athena base is what we've come to call unbreakable. It's a mind built to endure anything, to withstand any circumstances, any torture, anything and still function. They're deployed as a companion to people in the kinds of situations that never get reported, that never even happened as far as you or I are concerned, to make sure their objectives are met and that they aren't compromised. If something happens or in the worst case their human partner is killed, an Athena will do everything in her power to complete the mission and return with her companion, however she can. And you, Detective, have found yourself in that role. She is your partner, and will remain so as long as you remain true to your mission."

I didn't like where the explanation was going. Suddenly I found myself in the same role as Ricci; and it made me nearly sick. “But… Look, that's not right. She's free now, free to make her own decisions, not be forced onto someone again. I'm not about to… "

Wisse shook her head as she interrupted my protests, “You're not understanding, Detective. That is what she wants, and that is her decision. An Athena will only choose someone they feel is worthy of their support, and that's also contingent on their goals being worthy as well. Normally they're activated with potential candidates close by, and after a brief interview with each, they're asked to select one."

I still wasn't feeling much better about the situation, but I kept my own misgivings quiet. I suppose my body language must've said plenty though, as Wisse muttered something incredulous about how hard headed could one person possibly be before trying to explain it to me one more time, “Ren knew what I was from the beginning: a fourth, and along with that, a lawyer working closely with the police. The chances of me being corrupted are minuscule to the point of nearly impossible. You, on the other hand, while completely genuine in your statements to her, could have been. Not probable, but not impossible either. I've worked with you over the past six months, but I've had your file for far longer than that Detective. You're single, without pets, able to travel with little to no notice, highly focused, and still on the up and up in spite of skills which could be used otherwise. If you think her judgment was made in haste, don't. I agree with her assessment: you would make a good partner, in spite of certain irritating qualities, and I let her know as much."

Ren stepped over, “Detective, you yourself said, emphatically so, that what I do is my decision. Don't look at this through a human's view, as if I was brainwashed into being this; instead, take what Wisse said into account. For the first time ever, I have my mind, fully working and free. The person here, Detective," Ren tapped the ruff covering her chest where a human heart would be, “was always like this. I'm not brainwashed, I wasn't conditioned or turned into this by some device; this is me. If I'm drawn to someone who I feel is deserving of my strength, who I know is willing to help someone out of the place I was in, then that's also a part of me." Ren put both her hands on my shoulders and leaned down until we were practically eye to eye, “My choice, Detective Demitri, mine. Which I've made." She was staring at me intently, as if forcing her conviction directly into my mind through sheer will.

“Alright, alright already." I held my hands up in defeat and glanced at Wisse, “How the hell do I argue with that?" It at least earned a grin from them both, and perhaps I was too hung up over where Ren came from, rather than making sure she was where she wanted to be.

Ren stood up and smoothed the ruff of her chest as she turned back to the lawyer, “Now then, I'm an illegally produced synth based on a leaked military prototype mind, if I'm not mistaken."

“Running in a custom body, with materials that are above commercial grade, and probably completely black market. Yes." Wisse folded her arms across her chest in thought, “Which means we need to figure out what to do with you in the long term."

One point still bothered me, “That still doesn't explain Ricci having her, though."

Wisse had a mischievous glint in her eyes as she answered, “Oh, but it does, Detective. Remember that as an Athena, she chooses who she partners with. How well do you think she took to whoever assembled that body? And even better, once a synth mind is imaged as an Athena, it can't be overwritten if it's ever activated. I don't know the details on how, but there's some way in which the Athena rebuilds itself back to an Athena even after it's been imaged as another base." The lawyer was fully amused at the thought of it all. “How long do you think her builder spent trying to gain control of his personal, custom built, military grade, exceptionally expensive, and completely uncontrollable synth? And after all that time and money spent, how did it feel having to do the only thing he could to recoup some of his costs and sell his pet project?"

I wasn't convinced Wisse was right, but the idea was both plausible and amusing. “So why not keep her as a restricted synth?"

Wisse shrugged, “Who can say? Perhaps they wanted a third, or fourth, that was fully functional. Ren's far more capable now than she ever was with that device, Detective. Maybe they plan on trying again with a less stubborn base; or if they're going to end up with something like an 'enhanced' second anyway, perhaps they decided to go that route and code it so it behaves exactly as they want."

Wisse was correct on several counts. Cost wise, the most expensive portion of a second was the compute module. I didn't even want to guess at the normal cost for the hardware that ran a fourth's mind, and one obtained for this purpose would have the markup associated with illicit supply channels. Ren, even as a second, would be worth quite a lot on the market; maybe even enough to fund the building of a replacement if her builder was aiming for a more predictable second series. “Well, its definitely something to think about. For now though, we'll need to track down the human that was there; one who Ren still needs to draw."

“And there's still the logistics issue of what to do with me." Ren took her drawings and the blank sheets from my desk along with three of the pencils. “I'd rather not be kept in an evidence locker, and I don't think I should be staying in Detective Demitri's office either."

“I do have an answer for that; one which I think works perfectly well." Wisse managed to keep too big of a smile from forming, and I wasn't sure about the implications of the look that was spreading across her face, “Ren, you've been disguised as a second for as long as you've been operational, and I think that's exactly what we'll continue to do. After tonight there will be four seconds in evidence connected to the Ricci case, one being a yellow rabbit that was recently replaced from a small family restaurant in Milwaukee. I've had the compute unit wiped and the parts altered to match, roughly, what Ren looks like in a disassembled state, so anyone asking will see what they expect."

Alright, so she wouldn't be in evidence. There were only a few possibilities to begin with, one of which meant me getting a roommate for the first time since my dorm days. “And the real Ren?"

“That prize is being delivered to your home, Detective, seeing as you're the winner in a contest by the boutique builder Synthwerx." I raised my eyebrow at that one. I wasn't one to enter contests, but anyone who kept tabs on the custom scene knew that particular name. “As for the similarities with Ricci's synth, if anyone should ask, photos were included in your winning submission and they designed her based on your detailed specifications."

Wisse waved off my incredulous look, “Yes, I know their lead designer and the company is more than willing to lend their name for this particular project. Given she was a custom build, and an illegal one at that, the idea of her being copied makes it all the more likely we'll run into her creator at some point." That at least made sense, and it was another way to leverage what little resources we had in this case. “Enjoy your prize, Detective. The van will be in your driveway waiting for you to accept delivery, so leave here in about twenty minutes." Wisse nodded to Ren, “We'll be leaving now though, there's some preparations that need to be made."

* * *

At least I managed to put the free time to good use. At the end of twenty minutes, my work table was cleaned and I had a fair amount of the tools and diagnostics equipment that had seen six months of daily use finally organized. I gave one more look around the lab after shutting down my terminal; time to go see whatever Wisse had cooked up.

The drive home was uneventful; a short fifteen minute commute with an added five minute trip through a drive-thru for a spicy chicken sandwich and fries. I had the end unit in a townhouse complex that wasn't overly large inside, but it had two floors with a small front and back yard, so it wasn't much work to keep up and the corner lot provided a bit of extra street parking.

In spite of it being well past eleven, there was a white van parked in my driveway, complete with a large, magnetic Synthwerx logo stuck on its side illuminated by my porch light. I parked on the side street and grabbed the fast food bag off of the passenger seat. “This'll be fun," I muttered to myself as I stepped out of my car.

I made it all of three steps when the driver's side door of the van opened. The man that stepped out was smartly dressed in a nice suit and tie, complete with a silver pen in the breast pocket. “Mr Sokolov?"

I took the man's outstretched hand in a firm shake, “That's right. And you are?"

“James Slate, Synthwerx regional support. Pleasure to meet you, Detective." I was being ushered around to the other side of the van as the introductions were in progress. “I know it's late so I don't want to keep you too long, but we'll need a few delivery photos that we'll use in the article for the contest results." He paused just beside the van and added in a lower tone, “I also wanted to extend my congratulations on a job well done in the restoration and acquisition of a remarkable partner. As a fellow enthusiast, I know you're more than capable of dealing with most things, but you always have the full support of Synthwerx behind you. Ren's been given all the relevant information for contacting us, and we've prepared a small care package with information I'm sure you already know."

With that, James opened the side door of the van. Ren was sitting in a comfortable looking bench style seat with a small briefcase just beside her on the floorboard, and she was wearing a rather uncomfortable expression. Someone had thought it was a grand idea to have her outfitted for delivery. Violet finger-less gloves adorned each hand, both with a center gold ring around her middle digit holding them in place. A large bow of the same color was around her neck, the ruffled end of it sitting to the side of her chest fluff. It looked nice, matched her eyes, and would be perfect if she were a second. As it was, Wisse's words proved true; someone had dressed her up as a prize. I understood it was to hold to the cover story, but I wasn't overly thrilled.

“Smile, Detective, this is a special moment for you. Not everyone has the privilege of getting a Synthwerx second you know." Prompted by James' none too subtle hint, and a small elbow to my side, I donned the role of the happy recipient of a custom built second by plastering a forced dopey grin over my face. I assume the contest had something to do with writing some story and providing details on the synth to be produced. In truth, I did deliver a fair amount of Ren's specs to Wisse during the rebuild. It wouldn't be a stretch to call her current form a collaborative effort between Synthwerx and myself, as they were probably responsible for the custom fabrications that were delivered to my lab.

Ren, reminded of her role in all of this, stood and offered a short bow. She exited the van in a single graceful step, and with a grandiose gesture, held her hand to her chest ruff while trapping me in her gaze. “Detective Sokolov, I am Ren. The first of the Synthwerx model Rena double zero one. It is a pleasure to meet you." She may have been acting the part, but her haughty tone and formal speech fit the trademark attitude that all Synthwerx seconds were programmed to emulate. They're the best money can buy, so why shouldn't they act like it? I forget the details of the interview, but a few years prior, one of the company's co-founders responded to a journalist's question about the way their seconds presented themselves with that exact phrase. It took a moment for the reporter to recover, choosing to shrug off the response as corporate posturing. That incident marked a turning point for the company though; they went from a boutique builder to the boutique builder everyone else wanted to be.

Ren held her hand out expectantly and James set the briefcase in her grasp. Without missing a beat, she strode confidently to my side and turned to face the open side door with a pose that demanded attention. Honestly, I hadn't even seen the photographers staged near the back of the van. They were dressed in black suits and blended into the upholstery of the dark interior, cameras at the ready and already taking shots as I tried unsuccessfully to not gawk at Ren's sudden transformation. Somewhere along the way, one of them had managed to take my food bag, stashing it just inside the door of the van.

“Now there's the delivery experience we aim for," Slate had become all smiles with the affair; the man was definitely in his element. “Detective, we've loaded her with custom modules based on some of the stub logic you presented us. She'll be an asset to you, both around the home and on the job. Included with her is a development kit that we provide free of charge to our customers, especially those that are a true enthusiast such as yourself. Of course, you'll need to sign a few documents, mostly ensuring modules based around our tools aren't distributed outside of the Synthwerx family."

Ren held the briefcase out as if it were the most important thing in the world. James opened it, pulled a folder out, which he handed to me, then produced the pen from his pocket. “This is for signing the agreements, and it's also for you to keep as a commemorative item marking the occasion." Ren shut the case then held it flat, about waist high so I could write easily.

I couldn't help but genuinely smile at the over the top scene as I took the personalized pen. But being a detective, and a careful individual in general, I took the time to read through all the forms I was signing. It was a bit churlish, sure, but for all the pomp and circumstance they could get a little attitude handed back. It was in good humor though, and the camera team took the time to get shots from multiple angles as I went over each page.

With the last of the pages signed, I took them all in one stack and leveled them out with a few taps on the briefcase before placing them back into the folder. “There we go. I think that makes us all legal then, doesn't it?"

The entire time Slate hadn't let his smile falter in the slightest. The man had his A game on, even at this crazy hour of night. With just a slight smirk added into his expression he answered, “That it does, Detective Sokolov." He then turned to Ren and gave her a nod, “With this, you are officially under the care of the Detective from here on out. We expect to hear great things out of this partnership."

Ren nodded and stepped beside me as the camera team retreated back into the van. I, for one, was glad the whole thing was almost over, and just as glad when one of them handed me my food back before entering the van and shutting the door. James was left outside along with Ren and myself. I wasn't sure how involved his team would be from then on, but I figured if he was at all involved in getting the parts Ren needed, he at least deserved some thanks. “Mr Slate, can you do me one favor?"

“What is it, Detective?" Perhaps most of his clients just took their delivery without much in the way of interactions, since he gave me a questioning look.

I shifted the pen to the same hand as my food then held my empty hand out again, “I just wanted to say thanks. To you and whoever else was involved in the process of getting Ren to this point and here today, thank you."

For the first time that evening, it wasn't a smile for showmanship, it was a genuinely warm expression that graced the man's face as he took my hand in kind, “It was our pleasure, Detective Sokolov. I'll be sure to pass that along."

With that, the man re-entered the van and backed out of my driveway. It was honestly a bit surreal, having such a whirlwind of activity after the sedate drive home and having it end just as suddenly. I looked at the bag which now contained a cooled down sandwich and lukewarm fries, then glanced back at Ren. She decided to continue her role in acting as a second, so she just stood patiently beside me.

I motioned at the door then fished for my keys with my free hand, “Come on, then. Let's get inside and get you settled in."

* * *

Thankfully my house was relatively clean. The dishwasher needed to be run, but that was about the worst of my bachelor habits and a duty schedule that had crazy hours had caused it in the first place. I turned on the living room light once I entered and held the door open for Ren as I motioned her through.

She paused at the doorway, taking a moment to examine the place before setting foot in what was to become her new home. I could see her nose working overtime as her eyes scanned over the place while her ears searched out the random sounds that happened in an older building with neighbors just a single wall over. Her bushy tail seemed to gain a mind of its own, though I wasn't sure if it was excitement or concern which caused the action.

I remembered Wisse constantly reminding me to take things slow, so I figured it best to let Ren come to terms with things in her own time. I shut the door and locked it before passing by her to set my keys and wallet in a small tray kept on the table beside my couch. She had stopped in the middle of the room, briefcase still in hand as if she were caught in an invisible trap, though she was glancing in various directions as different things caught her attention.

After a few seconds of her apparent stasis, I figured I should step in, “Everything alright?"

Ren turned her attention to me with her ears held back, “Yes, though I find myself in a bit of an odd situation. I'm not sure exactly what I should be doing."

I thought about it for a moment and decided to put the decision on her given that part of having free will was exercising it. “While it's just us, or someone that knows what you really are, you're free to do as you please. I think the idea is to pose as an extremely functional, maybe even a little arrogant sounding second while we're out and about though." I motioned towards the stairs, “But if it were me in your position, I'd start by setting the briefcase down and having a look around the place."

Ren righted her ears and gave me a small nod. I think she felt a little lost without an immediate mission or task to set her mind to, but she set the briefcase down beside the couch and gave the bow a rather disgusted look when she spied herself in the small mirror hanging at eye level on the wall. In short order the bow was off and deposited on top of the case. Ren studied the gloves on her hands for a second before holding them upright and waving them slightly, “Should I keep these? They don't really perform any function, but they do make a nice addition in terms of aesthetics."

I shrugged before answering, “Up to you. I think they're nice, but they're heavily inspired by the outfit of the character your body's based off of. You may get a kid or two coming up to you randomly."

Ren titled her head sideways with her ears set forward. While her face lacked the subtle motions a human could produce, I was beginning to learn her expressions were an equal mix of facial and posture cues. In short, she was curious.

I could show her the series some other time, or maybe we'd watch one of the movies, but probably the best course was to leave them off in public unless we were going for attention, “We'll watch the show sometime so you can decide if you like the character enough. Maybe keep the gloves for now, but I think the bow's a bit much."

Ren took the gloves off and set them just on top of the bow. “True, but I think I'll keep the entire set, even if I never wear it all."

I nodded my agreement, “Sounds fine to me. They're yours, so ultimately it's your decision." I glanced down at the food bag still in my hand, “As for dinner, I'm going to reheat the fries so they'll be relatively decent, and the sandwich is fine as is." I walked past the counter top and into the kitchen, “I know you don't need to eat, but there's custom seconds that can; the thirds and fourths do as well. I want to make a habit of it with you from now on, that way we can see what you like in terms of taste." There was also a part of me that felt weird about being the only one eating when there were two of us. “So go on and poke around, I'll have this ready in just a few minutes."

Ren gave me an odd look for a moment, but decided against voicing whatever had given her pause. Perhaps she just wasn't used to someone giving her something that wasn't strictly a need or specifically relevant to the mission at hand. I had no way of knowing how many small kindnesses could be shown in the environment her mind was built to function in, so it could be something totally foreign to her. Then again, she also may have just been wondering why the hell I kept trying to feed her. Whatever the case, she finally began exploring in more than just the front room, so I turned my attention to warming up the air-fryer given that I hate soggy textured fries.

* * *

Three long beeps from the fryer signaled the readiness of the side. I had already pulled out two paper plates and put a bit of ketchup on each along with half of the sandwich. A quick division of fries from the basket and dinner was served. It was far smaller than my usual fare, but if I got hungry I could always snack a bit. Besides that, going to bed on an over full stomach was inviting a nasty case of heartburn.

Ren had disappeared upstairs shortly after taking a quick survey of the rooms on the first floor, and I was about to call for her when she turned from the bottom of the staircase catching me a bit off guard. Come to think of it, I hadn't ever really heard her footsteps at all. I assumed there'd be at least a tapping of her claws, but these seemed to stay just above the floor's surface even while she balanced on the small area of her foot pads only.

Ren must've seen my brief look of surprise, “Is something wrong?"

I quickly shook my head, “No, I just didn't hear you coming down is all. I was about to head up to tell you that the food's ready."

“Ah," she said with a small grin. “I suppose that's probably something I adjusted without really thinking of it. Moving quietly would fit in with what I was meant to be doing, or at least what my mind was originally prepared for, and it will be helpful as I work with you." Ren set her ears back just a bit, “Now that I think about it, I've seen similar adjustments for seconds, but those were obviously altered from their core factory routines by aftermarket mods."

“Oh?" I puzzled over where would she have seen a synth trying to move silently.

Ren nodded, “It's all centered around their purpose. Most seconds have a distinctly normal stride that replicates a human's natural movements when at ease. However," Ren adopted a stiff posture and strutted towards me as if she were on a catwalk. Her claws struck the floor in audible clicks that punctuated each long, confident stride and her hackles were raised so she had an even larger presence than normal. This was further accentuated by her intense gaze; her eyes focused on me with a hungry, almost predatory look in their violet depths. The sudden change brought a whole different dimension to her aura that commanded my attention stay resolutely on her. As she passed, her tail brushed against my leg to lure my focus to the sway of her hips until she came to a stop at end of the table. She turned only her shoulders and head, an action which caused my view to trace back up while she pinned me with a single half lidded eye. “Ricci's seconds moved so that the last thought on a man's mind was relaxation, Detective Demitri." With her demonstration over, she gave herself a little shake and returned back to her usual demeanor, but I could swear she was smirking just a little.

I exhaled sharply, ending it in a non voiced 'wow' and tried not to be overly embarrassed. “Well, alright then. I was trying to figure out just where you would've run into a second that needed stealth, but..."

Yes, she was definitely smirking, though it faded quickly, “I understand that Detective, but I'm not sure how much you've seen into the world that our adversaries inhabit. You can determine a great deal about a second's purpose just by seeing the ways it deviates from standard behaviors. If one moves quietly, it's because its owners don't want it to be noticed. The opposite condition is also true; the two that accompanied the human were meant to be noticed, and feared. They walked imposingly, their obstacle avoidance margins set to the minimal tolerance so they'd brush against things, and people, aggressively. By size alone they'd be strong, but if they're equipped with materials close to my own they could probably pull a normal person apart with ease. They'd have to catch that person though, and one thoroughly distracted would be easier to get."

I was about to protest but Ren placed her hand over my own as a tinge of concern edged its way into her voice, “I have no doubt you'll identify the human that was present once I've completed my drawings, but he's just the start of our journey. I want to make sure you're ready, when the time comes, to confront not only him, but also the ones above him and the ones supplying them. We'll face whoever the trail leads to, and whatever they own or control."

“Well, that's one way to get a point across." I tried to sound at least somewhat stern, “But there's a few things you need to remember: One, we aren't facing them tonight. Two, I worked my way up to detective through dealing with organized crime and have been going against these guys for years. Three, the food's getting cold." I reached over and gave her a small boop on the nose with my free hand, “We can go over the rest later, preferably tomorrow."

Ren's eyes nearly crossed as she worked her muzzle to get rid of the odd feeling. After a few seconds of her nose and mouth doing comical movements she held a completely deadpan expression, “Detective, unless you want to see me actually cross with you, don't do that again."

“Only if you agree to not to do that again, outside of a good reason anyway." Ren already knew what kind of reaction she'd gotten from me when she stalked past, but I figured I should be clear on what I expected, or rather what I didn't expect.

Her gaze softened a bit, “I did go a bit far, didn't I? But my point still stands; expect them to try and distract or redirect you at every turn, and what I did was tame by comparison." Ren moved over to her plate and gracefully took a seat. “Now then, what exactly am I presented with?" As she asked she gave a few sniffs over the sandwich and fries.

I couldn't say fast food that should've been eaten nearly an hour ago, so I embellished my description, “Only the finest, room temperature spicy chicken sandwich and extra crispy french fries." I glanced back at my refrigerator, “There's water or soda, I probably have something caffeine free, but the alcohol stays for when I don't have to be to work early." Being human, I have my own faults, and there's some days where a good beer or ale are needed after it all.

“Water would be fine and the rest wouldn't have an impact regardless." Ren allowed herself a slight grin, “I can allow the temporary effects of alcohol to be simulated relative to consumption. If I were in a human styled body, it'd make more sense. The feature is supposed to allow us to blend in during social circumstances, though we can always turn it off should the situation require it."

I could only imagine what an inebriated synth would be like as I made my way to the fridge and fished out two waters. “I suppose there's a limit to that feature?" I asked while I handed one of the bottles to her.

“There is. The rough rule is that we're never beyond the point of being able to determine if the simulation should be turned off. And before you ask, no, we're not subjected to hangovers." With that, she popped one of the french fries in her mouth and gave a few experimental chews before trying the next one with ketchup.

I got a small laugh out of that, but hunger won over and prevented any more small talk while we ate.

* * *

I stood in the shower, letting the hot water rinse away most of the oddness of the day and the concerns brought about by it all. Along with my towel and boxers, I also grabbed a loose fitting tee since I didn't want to parade around in front of my new house guest. I figured the next few days would be spent getting to know each other, and figuring out how to integrate Ren into my police duties as her revival marked something of a breakthrough in the Ricci case. I didn't need all of the answers at once, we could go through things slowly.

Ren had asked what I normally did in the evening, telling me that she didn't want to disrupt my usual routines. My answer was simple: if I was still awake at this time of night, a shower, then bed. She nodded and told me to do just that. She'd finish up her drawings and find a place for her things, not that she really had many beyond the briefcase, gloves, and gaudy bow. I had a second bedroom, well more of a computer room and home office in the same space, but there was a closet there. She could also make use of the second dresser in my room and any extra space in my bedroom closet.

Now that I thought about it, I wasn't sure where she'd want to sleep at or even if she needed to. I could have let her use the bed, the couch was plenty comfortable for me, but I'd need to get another full sized bed and put it… Well somewhere. Regardless, I figured a quick chat after I was done, and then off to sleep.

I emerged from the bathroom, still towel drying my hair when I noticed my bedroom light was on. I hadn't said for her to stay out, not that I really minded since she'd be sleeping there anyway, I just expected her to be downstairs drawing. I entered the room, seeing her standing next to the dresser on the right side of the bed with her belongings in hand and one ear swiveled in my direction. “That one's yours if you want it." My things were kept in the dresser to the left, the right sat mostly empty. There may have been a stray paper or two In there, but for the most part it sat unused.

“Detect… No, I should ask you. What would you like me to call you? I know Wisse uses your rank, and thus far I've done the same with your first name added." She turned her head, the violet of her iris glowing in the lamplight as she looked at me.

“At work, Detective or Detective Demitri, either one. Honestly, that's fine for home too, or if you're not worried about formality, just Demitri." I noticed another complete drawing sat on the dresser top, though I couldn't see the details of it from where I was standing. “That the other synth?"

“No," Ren pulled open the top dresser drawer and carefully put her things in it, though the ruffle of the bow barely fit, “That would be the human. He's the most important to identify, so I finished that drawing before the other one." She closed the drawer then handed the sketch to me.

The face staring back at me was one I knew all too well. I'd been close to nailing the bastard several times, but always came up short in terms of evidence. The man was careful, cunning and considered extremely dangerous. He worked his way up from a simple street Associate to the rank of Capo, and in doing so had brought his family out of poverty; including his half brother, Fredric.

“Stephano Ricci," I tapped the picture with the back of my hand not bothering the hide my scowl.

Ren looked at the drawing for a moment then back at me, “I assume there's some history here?"

I shook my head and set the sketch down on the dresser, “No, not personally anyway. We caught some of the lower ranks in things he's been a part of, but he's too careful in hiding his involvement to be directly implicated, let alone charged in court. There's not really a grudge between the brothers either. This is money related if I had to guess. Stephano financed everything and did all of the real work, including dealing with loose ends whenever Fredric fucked up." There were any number of possibilities here. Between the brothers, Fredric was far and away the less careful; maybe the wrong person was imposed upon this time. “Anyway, we should at least run the pictures of the synths. I didn't recognize the first one, but I wouldn't put it past Stephano to use a dead man's face just to screw with us." I walked over to to the cabinet and began pulling out some sheets.

“Or a live one if he wanted to discredit any witnesses with an undeniable alibi. A synth doppelganger can be useful in more ways than one." Ren titled her head to the side, “Demitri, what are you doing?"

“Just getting these changed out. You can have the bed tonight and I'll take the couch downstairs. We'll work on getting you fully settled in tomorrow."

Ren looked like she wanted to say something, but instead she simply walked over and started putting the sheets back. “This, Demitri, is your house and your bed. While I can sleep, it's not required."

I let out a small sigh, “Alright, but when Wisse suggested you stay here, I didn't object, now did I? I wasn't expecting a new roommate this morning, but that doesn't mean I'm against the idea. Mi casa es su casa, as the saying goes." Anyone who thinks the Spanish phrase sounded horrible with my slight Russian accent would be correct. “Besides, we're supposed to be partners, right?"

Ren gave me a rather surprised look, but it soon settled into a smile, “We are, aren't we. Very well, Demitri, but I'm not having you sleep on the couch on my account. Besides, I have another drawing to finish, so I'd be keeping you awake if you were downstairs."

I could accept that, “Fair enough, but I do need to get to sleep." I couldn't help but yawn as my body apparently agreed with me.

Ren had a small laugh at that, “So I see. Once I'm done, I'll make sure to lock up downstairs." With that, she headed out of my room, silently as usual.

I'm pretty sure I fell asleep within minutes of my head hitting the pillow. Exciting as the day had been, months of work and worry had come to a successful conclusion. Any nervous energy keeping me going faded along with the tension, and there was little I could do about it except to bundle up under the blankets and sleep soundly until my alarm went off.