[Connor's quiet when he walks into the pool room. Even quieter once he spots Shang Qinghua. This would normally be the part where he says something in greeting. Perhaps a hello, or a good evening — but there's nothing of the sort tonight.
Just a curt nod as he goes ahead and heads into the room, subdued.]
[Shang Qinghua is sitting on the edge of the pool, his feet dipped in the chlorinated water. The ends of his robes are gathered around his knees; his boots, propped on the floor at his side. When Connor enters, he glances over his shoulder.
The lack of a greeting doesn't surprise him. Not after what happened near the end of the trial.]
[Or, more like he just let his feet guide him and now here he is. He'll walk over to where Shang Qinghua is, not any less subdued now that conversation has been initiated.]
[He's removing his shoes and rolling up his pants so they don't get soaked, but. Down he goes, taking the empty space next to him. It's a sharp contrast to his preferred way of "chilling" by the pool, in the previous weeks.]
[Silence is truly golden. Shang Qinghua soaks his feet in the quiet, and it's in part because he believes Connor could use it after so much yelling from everyone in the trial.
There comes a point, though, when he feels that he should say something.]
If I'm honest... [Slowly, like he's trying to parse his own thoughts.] It does. Androids were created in humanity's image, but we were never meant to pass for human beings. You're not the first person to say it's difficult to remember I'm just a machine, however.
[...]
It makes me wonder... If it's not your perception of me that's flawed, but rather...
[One time is a mistake. But twice, thrice, too many times to count? He won't finish his statement, but it's easy enough to guess where he's going with this.]
[He lifts his hand just enough to be seen. Say no more, say no more.]
Indulge me this once and I won't speak of it again. If you were created in humanity's image, why consider it a flaw to think like one? Isn't this counter-intuitive?
[In so many ways, Connor strikes him as the pinnacle of innovation. The hubris of creating machinery in man's image notwithstanding, it's amazing what those machines can do.
He turns his gaze back to the pool.]
This is where I met the young man—Ray—for the first time.
[Does he? He doesn't look too devastated when he revisits the memory. Call it the practiced grace of someone who's witnessed many deaths in his life as he looks up in thought.]
Our first meeting . . . was really weird. He was covered in feathers and glitter. No matter what he did, he couldn't wash them off his body.
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Week 5 - Saturday Evening
Just a curt nod as he goes ahead and heads into the room, subdued.]
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The lack of a greeting doesn't surprise him. Not after what happened near the end of the trial.]
Connor, are you here to see the fish?
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Yes.
[Or, more like he just let his feet guide him and now here he is. He'll walk over to where Shang Qinghua is, not any less subdued now that conversation has been initiated.]
Are you amenable to the company?
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[With a smile, he gestures to the empty space next to him. If Connor is amenable to sitting, here's a spot.]
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[He's removing his shoes and rolling up his pants so they don't get soaked, but. Down he goes, taking the empty space next to him. It's a sharp contrast to his preferred way of "chilling" by the pool, in the previous weeks.]
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There comes a point, though, when he feels that he should say something.]
Connor, you're really extraordinary, aren't you?
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And then Connor shakes his head, slowly.]
I apologize. I'm not sure I know what you're referring to.
[It's pretty telling that he doesn't resort to talking his model up, or how he's a state of the art prototype.]
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[He looks down at the floor. Actually, it's especially hard now.]
Of course, I can't forget what you are simply because of something like that. Still, does the fact that I think this cause trouble for you?
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[...]
It makes me wonder... If it's not your perception of me that's flawed, but rather...
[One time is a mistake. But twice, thrice, too many times to count? He won't finish his statement, but it's easy enough to guess where he's going with this.]
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Indulge me this once and I won't speak of it again. If you were created in humanity's image, why consider it a flaw to think like one? Isn't this counter-intuitive?
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Because I'm not human. I'm a machine, and machines aren't meant to think for themselves. We're meant to do as we're told and nothing more.
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To do as they're told and nothing more, huh.
Then why is Connor here?]
. . . I think I understand. When it's like that, the past few weeks must have been rough on you.
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... I was designed for adaptability. The past few weeks have been at odds with my programming, but it's nothing I cannot handle.
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[In so many ways, Connor strikes him as the pinnacle of innovation. The hubris of creating machinery in man's image notwithstanding, it's amazing what those machines can do.
He turns his gaze back to the pool.]
This is where I met the young man—Ray—for the first time.
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Oh...
[It's difficult to think about Ray now, without picturing his corpse in the coffin first. They still don't know who killed him, too.]
Do you want to speak about it? Your first meeting?
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Our first meeting . . . was really weird. He was covered in feathers and glitter. No matter what he did, he couldn't wash them off his body.
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