Chapter 40

The room was stifling, although the two officers didn't seem to notice.

Sawyer crossed one leg over the other, wishing they'd given him something besides a chair. At least a table meant he wouldn't be so exposed.

They're probably analyzing your body language with a program, whispered his mind. Don't fidget.

The younger man stared at him behind a reflective pair of glasses. He hadn't said a word since they'd escorted him from class, simply steering the boy by the shoulder to the station, then to a tiny room inside.

"What do you know of CISH, Lee?" asked the older man - Green, he'd said his name was.

The teen shrugged, fighting an urge to brush his hair from his eye. "I'm atheist," he said. A bead of sweat ran down his cheek. "I thought it was mostly Catholics."

"Mmm, not for ten years," said the officer. "It's 'Citizens, ' now."

"Oh." He tried to express some surprise, not sure how genuine he'd need to make it. He'd never been much of an actor.

" ... though I believe you already knew that," said the man. He glanced at his partner, a confirmation of some sort.

The younger one shrugged.

Green chewed his lip, then swung around to face the boy. "You've been visiting your doctor a lot, lately. Mary Colton."

" ... I don't see why-"

"We're looking for a synthetic," interrupted the man. "A girl." He turned to the wall, and a picture appeared upon it.

It was the slightly distorted image of an archiver. Renee's grey eyes were wide, and she seemed as tense as a loaded spring. It'd been over three months, and Sawyer's stomach still ached at the thought of her.

"Green," said the man in the corner, animation suddenly returning to him. "I think- no, wait. Nevermind. Sorry."

"What?" asked the officer.

The two exchanged a glance, and from the immobility of their faces, Sawyer could only assume they were connected with their transceivers.

And talking about him.

He felt his cheeks flush. "What is it?"

The ignored him.

"Hey," Sawyer said. He made as if to rise.

Green twitched, pulled out of the moment by the boy's questions.

"I didn't invite questions from you, Lee," he grunted, and waited until the boy had settled once more. He tapped the wall behind him. "The syn belonged to a man that lived less than one mile from you. She was last recorded in the building of Mary Colton, your doctor, and a member of CISH.

"There's been three murders, all committed by this one synthetic. Someone's using her to steal more toys, and we expect them to do it again."

Sawyer swallowed. What have you gotten yourself into, Renee?

And me.

"We need to know who you told about her. Was it Colton? Someone else?"

" ... what?" He glanced from one man to the other. "I don't-"

"Look kid," said the older man. "Montague was using this syn for some pretty unsavory things. I could understand it, if you maybe saw something, something you thought was ... bad, and then figured you'd tell someone in the organization." He crouched down, so their eyes were level. "We need to know who that person is."

The boy shook his head, not even needing to fake the puzzlement. "I didn't see anything, and I don't know anyone else in CISH, besides Dr. Colton." Which was not longer quite true. He'd met a lot of others since Renee's escape.

But that hadn't been the question.

The younger man frowned, then tore off his glasses and glared at the boy. "I'm not reading him, Green. Just a bunch of false positives."

Oh. That explained their frustration.

"It's not you," Sawyer smiled. "It's me." He pushed the bangs from his bad eye, revealing it to the two. "Nanos don't always work right."

They both glared at him as if the bad genes were somehow his fault.

"Who'd you call?" repeated Green.

But now he knew they had nothing on him. Nothing close to the truth.

Without the nanos, they couldn't pinpoint when he was lying.

"No one," he replied steadily. "Dr. Colton is my doctor - for my eye. She doesn't brainwash her patients."

Sawyer held the older one's gaze, a battle of wills that was easy to win when you had the facts. The officer broke first, and started down a new line of questioning.

The boy answered most of them without much thought. His focus was on Renee.

She'd promised to contact him, at some point. It was just a matter of when.

Hopefully, before these two got too close.

If they found out he owned her - technically - he'd go to prison. He knew that much, at least. An owner was responsible for the deeds of his synthetic.

He had to stop her before the police could.