Cedar called in sick the following morning, he was quick witted enough to make up a story about being mugged in one of the back alleys. It wasn’t like he could hide a bullet wound the following Monday.

“So you’re wounded,” Saorise’s voice crackled with suspicion on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, just a shoulder injury,” Cedar cleared his throat.

“But you didn’t go to the hospital?” Saorise continued, “Or call it in officially?”

“I wasn’t thinking straight,” Cedar sighed, “you know me on a Friday night.” Cedar felt slightly bitter that the only excuse he could think of relied on his partner’s perception of him as an alcoholic.

“Jesus, Tanaka,” Saorise huffed, “Fine, I’ll cover for you and start drafting up an incident report. Tell me truthfully, which is worse right now – your shoulder or your hangover?”

Cedar forced a laugh, he hated lying to Saorise, she had always treated him right at the department despite his late father’s unpopular politics. “Probably the head,” he replied. He looked across the room at where Vaki was making the bed, changing out soiled, bloodied sheets for new ones. Cedar frowned as he noticed the younger man’s hands were trembling slightly.

“So did they take anything?”

“Huh?” Cedar asked absently, still focussing on the tremor in Vaki’s now healed, thin fingers.

“The muggers, did they get anything from you?”

“Oh, no,” Cedar shook his head despite her not being able to see him, “I mean just some E-Credits using a Sucker.”

Suckers were portable devices that could literally suck credits from a person’s phone where the account details would inevitably be stored. “Nothing to cry over though,” he added.

“But they didn’t take your gun?” Saorise sounded strange again, like she was tripping over something in the story.

“Wasn’t carrying,” Cedar shrugged, “figured I’d be drinking.”

“That’s never stopped you before,” Saorise replied.

“What can I tell you?” Cedar coughed awkwardly, wincing as the pain flared up in his shoulder. Maybe he could convince Vaki to give him another hit of painkillers?

“Who can I hear in the background?” Saorise asked as Vaki loaded up the laundry machine and closed the door.

“My neighbour’s kid,” Cedar answered, already having anticipated this question. “she’s helping me around the apartment today.”

“Oh really?” Saorise laughed as Cedar flushed and turned away from Vaki.

“Christ, Lin. When I said ‘kid’ I meant it, she’s nineteen.”

“Okay, okay!” Saorise laughed placatingly. “Well, you enjoy having someone play nurse for you whilst I bear the brunt of the captain’s wrath. We’re still no damn closer to find that purple haired AI”

“Yeah,” Cedar replied grimly before hanging up the phone.

“Was your boss very angry?” Vaki asked. He was standing by the now rumbling washing machine and playing with the too long sleeves of his maroon sweater. It clashed horribly with his eyes and hair but still somehow seemed to work.

“It was my partner,” Cedar told him, “and she’s fine.”

Vaki nodded tightly but still looked unsure. “Manya went out for desiccant crystals,” he announced, “whilst you were sleeping.”

“Oh,” Cedar replied dumbly, not quite sure how to respond to that.

“I know you didn’t want the carpet to spoil,” Vaki gestured at the stained floor. “I can apply them for you now if you like? I read how to, Manya showed me how to access online data so I no longer make child mistakes.”

Child mistakes? Cedar sorely hoped that wasn’t a phrase that he himself had used out of anger the previous night.

“I can do it,” Cedar said automatically, reaching out for the packet before yelping in pain. “On second thoughts,” he gritted, “maybe I’ll just sit and watch.”

Vaki’s lips twitched in a small smile before he nodded and began the task, his hands still oddly shaking.

“So,” Cedar began, tucking his arm back into the sling that Vaki had made him. “Any memories come back yet?”

“No,” Vaki shook his head, “it will take longer than that. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Cedar replied before he could think better of it. “I mean, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Actually,” Vaki paused from where he was shaking the granules out like salt on tasteless food. “I suggested to Manya that we could put in an expedition clause, it would have sped up the processing.”

“But it would have hurt you?” Cedar frowned.

“No,” Vaki looked surprised, “that wasn’t the problem. The memory retrieval programme is too large a data mass, it has to be run at real speed.”

“Oh,” Cedar nodded. He felt at odds with his body, uneasy somehow, like he should be moving. He huffed himself up a moment later and walked over the fridge. “Hey,” he frowned, picking up a wrapped durian cake and turning round to Vaki. “I thought they all got ruined?”

“Oh, that one is new,” Vaki replied, blinking owlishly at him. “I gave Manya a shopping list.”

“You did what?” Cedar snorted. “I told you I’d need to wait for the new paycheck.”

“No,” Vaki shook his head, “it’s okay, I let Manya milk some of my Synth-O into vials. She told me they would pay for the groceries that you wanted.”

“What?” Cedar snapped. “But you’re not a registered Mercy, you can’t get your reservoir refilled.”

“Please don’t worry,” Vaki shook his head, “I was very thorough in my calculations that I would have enough for you.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Cedar slammed the fridge shut, the fruit paste still in his hand.

“What is the problem then?” Vaki cocked his head with a look of questioning confusion.

“Just, you shouldn’t be selling parts of yourself for groceries,” Cedar groaned, realising how the sentence sounded after he had let it free from his mouth. He huffed and sat back down on the chair, careful not to tread on the treated carpet areas. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“It’s your favourite,” Vaki stated quietly, his eyes fixed on the shrink wrapped sausage shape of dried fruit paste.

Cedar thought back to the synth cream that had been scented with fruits, Vaki had taken a particular liking to it.

“Want to try some?” Cedar asked, holding out the cake as Vaki’s face lit up.

“Yes!” Vaki half shouted, crawling across the floor, his hands crushing into the carpet and becoming covered with desiccant crystals, like winter frosting.

“Well don’t go and touch it now,” Cedar rolled his eyes, “you get that shit on it and it will taste foul.” Cedar pulled the brown plastic wrapping back from the cylinder of cake before holding it out towards Vaki’s face.

Cedar wondered if he imagined the small gasp the other man seemed to let out as he positioned himself in front of Cedar’s knees, still crouched on the floor as he leaned slowly forwards to take a bite of the cake.

Cedar flicked his eyes away from the swallowing motion palpitating on the pale column of Vaki’s throat. There was an uncomfortable feeling settling in his gut and he was trying to tamp down on the urge to make a bolt for the door.

It must be the dehydration granules; there was something thick in the air that was causing Cedar’s mind to fog up.

“You like it?” he croaked, forcing his focus back to where Vaki was chewing happily, a soft red blush on the younger man’s cheeks.

“I love it,” Vaki grinned, a messy globule of paste still attached to his lower lip. Cedar inhaled deeply before reaching out to swipe it away, the pad of his thumb brushing across plump, smooth lips.

“So you like fruit,” Cedar nodded, “that written in your personality code or something?”

Cedar hated himself for the way Vaki’s happy expression momentarily fell before being schooled back into a pleasant but tight smile.

“Maybe,” Vaki replied, drawing backwards to continue attempting to salvage the carpet.

“And birds,” Cedar continued, wondering what the hell he was trying to do, salvage something else entirely?

“And birds,” Vaki replied, his smile was smaller now but seemed more genuine. “But not kitchen appliances.”

“Huh?” Cedar asked before realising that Vaki was joking. He huffed out a laugh of surprise, “Yeah, don’t think we’ll be letting you near a cooker again in the near future.”

“I liked helping you too,” Vaki admitted, finishing up with the packet and resealing it. “Last night. That’s written into my programming as well I suppose, endorphins get released when I’m in Mercy Mode to ensure I do my job well and take satisfaction in it. But when I was hooking up the IV and suturing your wound, it felt right.”

“That’s good,” Cedar replied, staring down at his hands, “Not everyone likes their job.”

“It’s not my real job though,” Vaki replied, his back still turned to Cedar. “I was repurposed to murder someone.”

“We don’t know any details yet,” Cedar shook his head. “We don’t know the full story.”

Suddenly, Vaki let out a low, pained groan and collapsed to the floor.

“Vaki?” Cedar shouted, jumping up and ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he rushed over and pulled Vaki back into his arms. The android’s face was white but his skin felt unbearably hot to the touch and there was synth-sweat beading across his face and collar bone.

“What the fuck?” Cedar swore, lifting Vaki up as best he could and dragging him over to the couch. “Hey, Vaki can you hear me?”

“N-need…” Vaki mumbled, a small trail of spit leaking from the corner of his mouth. His lips seemed redder and plumper than ever and his eyes were glassy.

“Jesus, you’re burning up,” Cedar snapped, pressing his palm against Vaki’s clammy forehead. The synth-sweat desperately trying to do its job of cooling the android down. The sweat was moisture that had been drawn in from the air and used as a coolant.

“P-please,” Vaki moaned, his body thrashing underneath Cedar, slender fingers hitching on the hem of his sweater and tugging it off in jerky, stilted motions.

Cedar watched in confusion as Vaki threw the sweater away and then immediately reached for his fly, opening up his jeans before pushing them to his knees.

“Okay we’ll get you in the shower and…” Cedar trailed off, his eyes widening, stunned, as he watched Vaki stretch out his arm and begin to palm himself through his boxers.

“W-what are you doing?” Cedar stammered, jumping backwards as if he’d been burned.

“I need it,” Vaki half sobbed, turning his head to one side, his eyes scrunched tightly shut and his mouth hanging open.

“Stop right there!” Cedar yelped as Vaki hooked his thumbs over his boxer briefs and began to tug them down, exposing a hairless, smooth expanse of pale skin. Vaki’s cock was stood painfully erect, jutting out from his pelvis and clouded an angry red.

Vaki jerked forwards a moment later, grunting in exertion as the slit of his swollen bulb leaked a glistening lubricant, running down his silky, darkened shaft. “Cedar, please,” Vaki whined, snapping the other man back into focus.

Wrenching his eyes away from the writhing, panting android on his couch, Cedar hobbled towards the kitchen counter. He swiped his phone up with shaking fingers, listening to it ring, once then twice.

“What now?”

“Manya,” Cedar breathed, trying to keep his voice steady. “It’s Vaki, I don’t know what to do, something’s seriously wrong. He’s going to overheat, he…” Cedar’s voice failed him.

“I’ll be right over,” Manya sighed.