Human: An Android Love Story

By Elle Driver

Detective Jack Ramirez had never planned on love. At all. It simply wasn’t anything he’d ever really looked for…or seen for his future. But when a surprising new case attached to a beautiful face falls into his lap, he’s dumped headfirst into the mystery of a surprising murder, the question of love, and whether or not he has the chops the handle either.

From the moment he sees her, Adelyn mystifies Jack. She’s enigmatic, gorgeous, and clever. And she’s an android. After the most engaging interrogation he’s ever had, Jack is told to let his connection to Adelyn go — focus on the case. But he can’t forget Adelyn. And he can’t let her go. She knows more than she’s let on, and there’s something about her eyes that he can’t get out of his head. But will chasing her across the neon-lit plains destroy his life and everything he holds dear? Or will he find that what he holds dear isn’t as precious as what he’s getting by knowing Adelyn.

Jack chases a murder and a conspiracy at once, while attempting to figure out why or how he could feel so strongly about Adelyn. Every part is a dangerous part of the journey, as he discovers that his police department, city government, and beyond are involved in a project and cover-up that will be life-changing for people everywhere. And knowing Adelyn will be life-changing for him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Shorts
• Release date: Jun 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781094439259

Elle Driver

Elle Driver is a mild-mannered civil servant who adores her husband and kid, and loves writing different romance tales to share with others when she can.

Book preview

1

When Jack woke up — his glowing alarm skittering across his walls in a ghostly marquee, commlink buzzing inside his head with minute-to-minute police chatter — he didn’t think it would be one of those days. He hadn’t had one in so long. But today — today was definitely one of those days. He thought a shadow crouched in his corner, rifle to its chest. He shouted for his lights to come on and had a pistol aimed at his own jacket over a chair in seconds. If it had been an enemy, it would have had him long ago.

He put the pistol aside, commanded his alarm clock to shut the fuck up and showered to rinse off the paranoia and memories. The dried sweat washed down the drain, but the memories remained hunkered down in his mind. They were over ten years old — those memories, mummified by the sand he thought he could still feel in every crevice of his body. He had to shake them every now and then, knock them from his head. And if he didn’t take care of it, his captain would. It would be a lot less pleasant.

Later at work, he couldn’t help but notice that there wasn’t much pleasant about Captain Fiona White. She stood next to him as they watched the live feed from the interrogation room in front of them. Their suspect was pretty: hair like black ink around her shoulders, flawless umber skin. It was too bad she was an android. And a murderer.

Jack Ramirez pushed his glasses onto his nose, wriggling an inch away with grimace.

When you gonna drop those, Ramirez? Fiona snorted, staring at the wall in front of them. It was entirely white and embedded with a block of diffused light, barely discernible from the surrounding wall. Fiona leaned her hand against it, jacket falling open to show a peek of her gun. Jack glanced back at the barely-there-block, and returned his gaze to the live feed of their suspect sitting at a metal table. Yeah, she was definitely nice to look at, what with her long, black hair and bright, amber eyes. Her dark, umber-colored skin was flawless. She didn’t look like a model. Her face wasn’t beautiful. But something about her was lovely. It was too bad she was an android. And a murderer.

Drop what? Jack murmured, watching the suspect push an invisible speck of dust around the table.

The glasses. Stop being a punk and just get your eyes lased. The punkrock chic geek bullshit’s getting a little thin. Jack fought the twitch of his lips and touched his black frames, silent. She liked to mess with him. A ella le gustaba sacarme el mostro, he thought, rolling his eyes. I mean, who are you trying to impress with the retro gig? He turned to her as he backed toward the door that would let him into the interrogation room.

He gave her thin, 5’4 frame a salacious once-over and winked. Maybe you." Except that for the five years that he had known her, Fiona had proven to be the last woman he’d be able to consider sexually. She was hard in every way.

Fuck off, Ramirez, she said, teeth bared. The door swooshed open and Jack bowed to his captain, holding his tie to his stomach as he backed through the open door. It closed with a snick behind him. His face was clean of expression when he turned to the suspect. He stood on one side of the table, leaning his hands against the chair in front of him. She sat with her hands in her lap now, staring at him with an expression of polite detachment.

State your designation and purpose, he said.

I have already told you and five other officers both my designation and purpose. Her voice was warm, but it lacked the inflections that all humans had in their speech. Her tone was clean, as if digitally scrubbed of every nuance that could hint at humanity.

Then, humor me and state it again. He gripped the chair. He’d lived around robots, androids, cyborgs all of his life. He thought they could be very productive citizens. They hardly ever committed crimes, and they hadn’t proven this one was guilty… but still, she rubbed him the wrong way.

My designation is P12-94. My alias is Adelyn X. My purpose is… classified, unless otherwise authorized.

"You see, that’s where we’re having trouble, Adelyn. No android has a classified function. Even government droids come with service keys, so we can download their objectives. But you… you’ve come with nothing. Why is that?" He pulled the chair out and sat down, adjusting his black slacks multiple times. He picked at a speck of nonexistent lint.

It’s simply a part of my construction and programming. I do not need any ports. I am not programmed to reveal my purpose. I couldn’t tell you if I wanted to.

"Do you want to? Do you want anything?" His voice raised and he gripped his hands on top of the table. It was an act. It still might work on an android.

I would like to tell you, detective. Adelyn mimicked his hands. I would like to tell you everything. Jack sat back. The way she said everything made his spine buzz, as if electricity were slipping between his vertebrae.

What is everything, Adelyn? Did you kill Dr. Bahun? he whispered to her. He leaned in and so did she. There was a long silence, the kind that happened right before a revelation, the kind that….

I do not have the authorization to tell you, she whispered slowly, spacing authorization out as if he’d had a hard time understanding or hearing. He slammed his hand down on the table and she didn’t even blink. Getting upset will not improve the situation.

The day I let a damn droid tell me how to feel….

But Jack was stopped mid-sentence as his captain’s voice filtered into the room. Ramirez, come here.

I’m busy, he snapped.

Please, don’t make me repeat myself. Jack stood in a rush and went to the door. When it opened an officer in uniform stood there. A black, featureless helmet stared at him. Behind the officer’s shoulder was his captain, her arms crossed.

What is it? Jack growled. Captain, he added.

I’ve got the code, sir, an unfamiliar male voice said from the blank mask. We retrieved it from Dr. Adarsh Bahun’s files.

Officer, I don’t care how you got it. I just want it. Where is it? Jack held his hand out. The officer slid him a flat note drive. Jack stepped back into the interrogation room without another look at the officer or the captain. He sat back down at the table with a flourish of his arms, a grin tugging at his lips.

I have the code, Jack wheedled. Adelyn blinked at him. His smile soured at her lack of response. What do I do with it? Stick it somewhere?

As you and several of your officers have already noted, I have no ports. There is nowhere appropriate for you to stick that, detective.

Jack felt his face heat. He scratched his shaved head. Do I just say it?

That will suffice. She smiled. Jack looked down at the thin piece of metal. Its sliver of a vid screen only held on word: Manendra.

Manendra, he said carefully. Her smile didn’t change. Fireworks didn’t go off. Her face didn’t swing open to reveal blinking lights and wires. Is that right?

It is.

What does ‘Manendra’ mean? Jack asked off-handedly.

Ruler of mind, she said automatically.

Jack tapped his fingers on the drive. Your doctor had a bit of a complex, did he?

She shrugged. He didn’t make up that particular code.

Who did?

She stared at him. My creator. If her voice and face could drain of what little emotion it had, it did.

And what can you tell me about your creator?

Not much, she said, her voice clipped.

Jack stared at her expecting more, but there wasn’t any so he asked, Now, what?

Now, you may get answers to your questions about Dr. Bahun, she said, her tone terribly reasonable. He noted that she had pointedly told him what he could ask questions about, but that was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? Jack placed the silver drive on the table, holding it between his fingers.

Did you kill Dr. Bahun?

Of course not.

Who did?

I do not know the man’s name, but I do have images of his face and evidence of the crime, if you would like that?

If I would — of course, I want it, Adelyn.

I will upload it to one of your servers. It will be made available momentarily. She tilted her head, and her eyes seemed to become a bit unfocused. She blinked sleepily and then smiled. You have it. Jack turned in his seat. He couldn’t see his captain through the wall, but he knew she could see him. He arched his eyebrow.

We got it, her disembodied voice answered suddenly, filling the room. Jack turned back to Adelyn.

Why didn’t you give us that before?

Because you did not….

Have the authorization. All right, yeah. Jack stood and chewed at his bottom lip, pacing a bit. So, what is your purpose?

To determine what it is to be human. Adelyn held her hands palms up, opening and closing her fingers. Jack stared at her slim fingers. Her hands were beautiful, and her fingers moved in a way that was frankly graceful, as if she had been a dancer. Had there been any popular android ballerinas? He couldn’t remember any.

He cleared his throat. "How the hell could you determine what it is to be human?"

Through observations, through calculation, and by living.

You don’t ‘live,’ Jack laughed, using air quotes, but stopping short when Adelyn held her hand out. What?

Take my hand.

Why?

Because I want to show you something.

No, I don’t think so. He played with his tie. What do you want to show me?

Are you scared? she asked softly, voice sliding against his skin. He shivered.

Don’t do that.

I’m not doing anything purposefully. Are you scared to take my hand?

Of course not. Jack fought the urge to glance back at the wall where he knew his captain was watching. He took her hand quickly. It was warm, soft, and as he squeezed it, he found it was also filled with delicate bones. She was skin and flesh and bones. What the…. He tried to take his hand back but she held on. She covered his hand with her other one.

What do I feel like to you?

I don’t know. Warm. He shifted his feet, his armpits jolting with the uncomfortable sour feeling of bursting into sweat.

Is that all?

Soft, he grunted, embarrassed.

She laughed. And?

Shit, I don’t know. What do you want? He jerked his hand free as he realized she was interrogating him and not the other way around.

I want to tell you everything.

Then, just tell me!

I can’t, she sighed, sitting back and crossing her arms across her chest. She looked annoyed. Jack’s brow furrowed.

Why are you acting like that?

Like what?

Like… a woman, like a human.

This is how I normally act.

It isn’t how you were acting just a moment ago.

"I acted mechanical for your benefit, detective, but it’s getting tiresome. Humans are not comfortable realizing that we can be as real as any of you. But you’ll just have to deal with the fact that I’m not a robot, all right?"

He put the table back between them and balled up the hand that she had held. I don’t really have a choice, do I?

There’s always a choice, she said gently. There was a moment of silence. So, if my hand felt warm and soft… what does that mean?

I don’t know. That you felt… human. She smiled as if she were very pleased. He felt like he’d gotten an answer right in class. He liked that she was pleased, but before he could say anything else, that damned disembodied voice interrupted again.

Ramirez. He’d worked under Fiona White for a few years now, and he’d learned her nuances. That tone of voice, and the fact that she had simply said his name was a warning. Jack scratched his beard. Adelyn’s purpose, as interesting as it was, didn’t seem to have any connection to Bahun’s murder, so, it was of no consequence.

Adelyn, were you present at the time of the murder? He sat down, scooting the chair under the table.

I wasn’t, no. She shook her head for emphasis. He pressed his lips together and tapped his fingers on the table.

Where were you at the time of the murder?

I was at a vid café doing observations. They have me on their security feed if you wish to look.

We will, Jack said. How did you get the images and the evidence of Bahun’s murder?

I’m linked up to his house security systems, and once I found him dead, I retrieved the data and reviewed it.

Jack nodded. Do you know why someone would want to hurt Bahun?

I believe he was killed because of his work.

Which was?

Determining what is human. I think the problem was that he theorizes that there isn’t much difference between you and me. People have never agreed with my findings, our findings.

How long have you two been working on this? Could you put together a list of possible suspects?

Bahun has been working on this for his entire career. I have been working on it for 347 years. And yes, I could compile a list, though it will be very long. Many people disagree with us. I understand why, of course. Jack held his hand up, and she stopped talking.

I’m sorry. Did you say 347 years?

Yes.

How?

I don’t age, detective, she said , shrugging her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled.

Of course, you don’t, he mumbled, scratching his nose. So, 347 years. You must have seen a lot.

Yes. Several murders have occurred during my observations. She said it in a tone so sensible that Jack missed it the first time.

Murders. Multiple. More than one.

Yes, sadly. She frowned, and in a very human way, bit at her bottom lip. He wondered if for her, it was sad due to the loss of life, or the loss of research.

Ramirez, come here. Jack didn’t move immediately when his captain called him. Instead, he stared into Adelyn’s eyes, slightly fearful of their endless depths, of what truth may hide within them. Now, Ramirez! He stood slowly and walked out of the room. His captain looked as if she were dancing just shy of an orgasm, flittering along the brink of falling over the edge with eyes wide and lips parted.

Keep her talking. Get everything. Everything she knows. Jack glanced at the vid screen inside the dim room. The light reflected in his glasses. Adelyn sat with her lip between her teeth and her hands in her lap again. If she had been human, he would have said she looked ready to talk. And now he wondered if her being an android negated that. Too many variables were cropping up. And Ramirez? Jack looked at his captain. Her smile was gone as if it had never been. Try to stick to the facts. She may be pretty, and she may be interesting, but you’re not on a fucking date, okay? He didn’t reply.

When he went back into the room, she didn’t look at him but stared at the wall across from her — in the exact spot the vid screen was located on the opposite side. Jack stood on his side of the table, waiting for her to look at him and when she did, her expression was quizzical.

The people you arrest, the people you interrogate have to know they are being watched. Why do you pretend not to watch us?

Some people feel more comfortable about being watched when they can make believe it’s not happening, Jack answered, glancing at the same spot in the wall. He moved the chair on his side of the table to sit closer to Adelyn. He put his elbow on the table and held his chin in his hand, fiddling with his beard hair as they regarded each other silently.

Yes, I’ve found pretending is very common among humans. But I think it’s often detrimental.

You think or you were told by someone else? Jack asked pointedly.

I think. I can think just as much as you can, detective. I can probably think more. I mean, I am a machine. She smiled at her own terminology, as if she found it very clever. Jack found it clever, too; it was definitely a jab at him. He started to smile in return, but stopped as he remembered his captain’s orders. Stick to the facts.

Tell me about these murders. Who was murdered? When were they murdered? How are you connected to them?

If you want me to list the names of people murdered, the times… how I was connected to them? It would be quite a long list to recite. I can send the list to the same server I sent it to before.

I would appreciate that, Jack said slowly. But I’d still like it if you’d explain how you’ve been privy to this information.

Well, I’ve been passed down from researcher to researcher over the past three centuries, compiling all of the data each scientist has worked on.

What? Passed down? Like… from person to person?

Yes. Passed down would imply from person to person. She tilted her head at him, her right eyebrow arched. It’s actually a very smart process and through it, we’ve collected incredible data. But the best statistics we have aren’t statistics at all. Quantitative information has made my work valid, but it’s the qualitative information that has proven the most valuable.

He leaned in. And what have you found? He rubbed his hand over his short, black hair. He was fidgeting. He had to remain focused. No, ignore that question. Having been passed down from person to person still doesn’t exactly explain why you know of several murders.

Our research is, for lack of better words, emotionally charged. To some people, I’m nothing more than a pretty toaster. Sure, I can make toast if I wanted to, and if my current owner wanted to, but to think that’s all I’m good for? Look at me. He did. She was gorgeous. I’m a super computer with feelings. That upsets a lot of people. And trying to prove I’m equal to a natural human is beyond a delicate topic. Natural human, he repeated in his head. Out of the five scientists I’ve worked with, three have been murdered. Assistants have been murdered. Delivery people. People who were hardly associated with us have been killed. Because of hate. Because of the nature of man. It’s almost ironic. They only further our research with their actions.

Jack took off his glasses; he didn’t need them to see, anyway. They were partially for looks, but they also served as vid screen, able to connect to police servers with a tap. But for now, they were just giving him a headache, overloading him with information. He covered his eyes momentarily,