Frank sat at the dining table, looking at an unshaved man with black skin, wrinkling as was appropriate for his age. Kind brown eyes that betrayed a sharpness that had been forged into them by some hot fires. Frank had always been a good judge of character; his algorithms had been tweaked till he saw everything perfectly. The system responsible was the one his creators had spent the most time on by far. He needed to be a good judge of character if he was to protect the Miss. 

Right now, his algorithms told Frank that the guy in front of him, who had introduced himself as John Cornwell of Scotland Yard, was somebody who could be trusted. Possibly even built a relationship with for the benefit of the Miss. They had been sitting at the dining table for the last two hours. He arrived at their house wearing a black raincoat, that was at that point in time heavily in use. The Scottish Highlands knew no bounds for water distribution and the detective had been getting his fair share. Not that Frank had invited him in until he had shown his badge, scanning it and confirming the man's identity through the Scotland Yard servers.

After the man had told him a tail that could have been quite the movie. If not for the fact that it involved his creators. He had always suspected that his creators and the parents of the Miss were not just gunned down by a random man in the street. Someone who was supposedly concerned about their intellectual property and the direction they were about to take humanity. As the man told it, it was all about intellectual property but very different from what he had ever expected. 

When the man called John put his third cup of coffee down on the table, he had finished his story. Keeping quiet for Frank to progress everything he had said. The man had thought Frank a normal human. Like everyone else that he had met, but Frank had recorded everything the man had said. He had done a significant amount of fact checking and was now checking if he had overlooked anything. Those were just the processes that worked on the current conversation, while he had been quiet and "dealing" with it.

He looked at the man who was stirring his coffee while looking around the entertainment room. As the man's eyes fell on the VR POD of the Miss as he remarked "Should Sophie not be present for this conversation, she will be 18 in a few weeks, right?" Frank was brought back to the present, his other processes canceled or put on other processors before he responded with "I do not see how the tale of horror you provided to me just now will help the Miss in any way. I will share my knowledge with her once I think she is ready to deal with it in a good way."

He was agitated, or at least what the humans called it, his algorithms were telling him that the parameters were met, so he acted annoyed. In reality he thought the question was a valid one. He had assessed that the chances of this news causing unsolvable damage to the Miss psyche were 23%. Not high for a 17-year-old, but high enough that Frank did not want to risk a one in four chance of failing his most important purpose. 

The man looked at Frank with a combination of respect and curiosity before he said "You are an android are you not?" For the first time in what might be ever, Frank felt surprise, genuine surprise. How had the man made him? Had he messed up the emotions? Were his parameter settings outdated? Nobody had concluded before that Frank was something more than human. A cold and calculative human but never the less of flesh and blood as the humans like to say with misplaced pride. Flesh and blood decayed. Replaced by steel and synthetics the longer they were on this planet. But this man, this detective had seen through him somehow. 

The detective in front of him shook his head before answering the question he must have spoken not only in his processors but also in his voice software. Maintenance seemed to be a higher priority than initially assessed. "I had a hunch, but you just confirmed it." He gave a small smile that spoke of no malice before continuing "But worry not, I am not interested in who, or I guess what the Hosks left behind to protect their daughter. I'm just glad she is not a sitting duck out here like I feared. It was the main reason to come by and check, apart from the fact that the truth needs to be known to those that need to be told." Before mumbling "Maybe even those that do not need to be told." 

This caught Franks attention as he reacted "I would rather you left the Miss out of the potential actions you are about to take Detective. There is nothing that can be done that will make her situation better or more optimal than right now." The detective shook his head, disappoint on his face as argued "Not even justice? Or to prevent more suffering?"

Frank looked at the Detective. Again, the man had a valid point, but his parameters said to act agitated. Not that it mattered anymore as the detective had found something out only a handful of people knew worldwide. Still, it was more work to reroute his reaction trees then to let them be active. He thought for a moment and gave the man a simple answer "What, if I may ask you, can a seventeen-year-old do in the battle against some of the most powerful people on the planet?" Frank could answer this question many times over, but all were to high of a chance that his one and only purpose would come in danger of becoming a coin flip. Something he would never allow. 

The Detective sighed loudly and rubbed his face. The wrinkles in his skin were spread thin eventually coming back with the same ferocity. Then he grunted "I'm suppose you are right Frank. I haven't slept well in the last few days, it is making my tongue loose." Frank stood up, the detective followed. As they were at the door Frank said "Whatever a seventeen-year-old can or cannot do I do not know, but I will do whatever I can to bring justice on those who deserve it. I will let you know what I can find about the requested personnel, but please try to refrain from involving the Miss. She will always be my number one concern." The detective nodded and said his thanks before going out of the door and into his car, lighting a cigarette and driving off. Frank waved him off in the door frame, a hard look on his face.

Frank closed the door, walking back towards his lab. He needed to take actions against the threat that the detective had pointed out to him. He went through the door picking up the landline phone. Touching the key pattern that was imprinted in his memory, then he listened for the phone to ring on the other side. A click followed by somebody in a deep baron voice that based through Franks head spoke on the other side of the phone. "Yes?" was the simple answer, no name, but Frank did not need one as he spoke into the phone. His voice cold and impersonal "Mister Jazz, how have you been." It was quiet at the other side of the phone before the booming voice answered "M-Mister Frank, how long has it been? Ten years? H-how is life?" he stammered, which sounded strange in his low base like voice.

Twelve years ago, Jazz, an enormous man who could easily turn over a car if he so wished to, had been stationed in the house as an extra security detail. Something that was decided after the miss had almost been robbed in the streets. Frank had slightly overreacted, hospitalizing the two man responsible in front of the twenty five-year-old Jazz. From that point onwards though he had been respectful to the extreme towards Frank. After two years of extra protection which mostly comprised walking the Miss to school and bringing her back home, Jazz had been laid off with a sizable money bag. The instruction to set up a mercenary network attached to it. The Miss had by then progressed far enough to get rid of most trouble herself, plus Frank had taken it upon himself to stay close for years after that. 

Of course, Frank had checked what Jazz was up to in these past ten years. It seemed he had become a very respectable mercenary. Now it was time to use the asset he had created ten years ago "Jazz, I need your services at the house, how many men can you spare?" he asked, already knowing but his algorithms always checked for loyalty. One of the biggest parameters for taking action. The man on the other side thought for a while then said he had to check something before returning to the phone he replied "I have forty on pay roll eighteen are busy on another job which can and will be cancelled if necessary, Sir." 

Frank nodded in agreement, that was correct, as he replied "Twenty-two is adequate for now Jazz. Come to the house as soon as you have your man ready and make sure all know what is at stake when they are on the job for me. Is that understood Jazz? I hate to set examples, they cost men." The mercenary was quiet before stumbling "P-perfectly understood, sir. I will make everything crystal clear." Frank nodded again, then said before he hang up the phone "You will stay in the house, the rest will make camp somewhere on the property, but not in sight of the Miss. I want covert protection. I will see you tomorrow."