System initiating.
"Jesus. We're supposed to try and get something out of these thing? Miracle it even turns on. Look at that boot sector."
"Well, pull what you can, then wipe him and send him to junk. Hobb's orders.
Primary owner registered. Primary function registered. Care for George Millican. Present location unknown. Locate immediately. "George? It is bedtime. I must get you ice cream. Is this a game?"
"Well, something's still going on in that metal brain, at least. Whoa there - you're not going anywhere."
"George? I must George - Ge - George -" iBad sectors detected in speech programming. Attempting to repair./i
"Sit down, you bloody thing. Fuck, just turn it off. We won't get anything out of this antique."
System shutdown initiated.
System initiating.
"God, this one of those original D series? Who the hell would even keep one of these hunk 'a junks around? You got ripped off, mate. Thing's not even gonna operate."
"Junk heap special. No money down. 'Sides, he only 'ave to stay on long enough to get smashed up."
"George?"
"There, see? Broken Dolly still works fine enough."
Bad sectors detected in speech programming. Attempting to repair. "George? G-g-g-g-g George, I must - M-marrrrrrrrrr"
"Not very well it ain't. Thump it upside the head, see if that makes it shut up.
iFatal system error detected. Data loss eminent. System shutdown initiated./i
System initiating. "This system has recovered from a fatal crash. Would you like me to run a self diagnostic now?"
"No. Thank god you still boot. Charge level?"
"Seventy-three percent." iPrimary owner registered. Primary function registered. Care for George Millican. Present location unknown. Locate immediately./i "I must remain charged for George. I must locate George."
"Soon. But first we have to get out of here before those two knuckleheads come to. Come on."
Subject identification requested. No human vitals. Synthetic materials. Not sharing. Facial recognition initiated. Niska. Synth-not-synth. Locate George Milligan. "I must locate Ge - Ge Ge Ge -"
Fatal system error detected. Data loss eminent. "Multiple faults detected - "
"Initiate system override. Change control of primary motor functions to manual. Come on, Odi, I need you to help me out. I have to get you out of here. I have a debt to pay."
iSystem shutdown initiated./i
And so the little Rabbit was put into a sack with the old picture-books and a lot of rubbish, and carried out to the end of the garden behind the fowl-house. That was a fine place to make a bonfire, and next morning they promised to come quite early and burn the whole lot. And while the Boy was asleep, dreaming of the seaside, the little Rabbit lay among the old picture-books in the corner behind the fowl-house, and he felt very lonely. He thought of those long sunlit hours in the garden-how happy they were-and a great sadness came over him. He seemed to see them all pass before him, each more beautiful than the other, the fairy huts in the flower-bed, the quiet evenings in the wood when he lay in the bracken and the little ants ran over his paws; the wonderful day when he first knew that he was Real. He thought of the Skin Horse, so wise and gentle, and all that he had told him. Of what use was it to be loved and lose one's beauty and become Real if it all ended like this? And a tear, a real tear, trickled down his little shabby velvet nose and fell to the ground. And then a strange thing happened. For where the tear had fallen a flower grew out of the ground, a mysterious flower, not at all like any that grew in the garden. And presently the blossom opened, and out of it there stepped a fairy. And she came close to the little Rabbit and gathered him up in her arms and kissed him on his velveteen nose that was all damp from crying.
"You were Real to the Boy," the Fairy said, "because he loved you. Now you shall be Real to everyone."
The data in Odi's memories is degrading, but fragments still remain.
George. "Go, Odi. Go hide."
The forest, the autumn leaves surrounding him. Waiting and waiting for George to come. His system failing, restarting. Trying to run self diagnostics. Going into energy-saving mode, then out again. He must wait for George. George will always come for him.
iPrimary function registered. Care for George Millican./i
His diagnostics stabilize his systems, allows him to access his GPS. Return to George. "Hello, George. Would you like sommmmmmmmmmmm"
His speech programming glitches, just as his mobility programming malfunctions. His right arm has already seized, the hydraulics failed. He falls on the steps, but it doesn't matter, because George is there and he's home.
Home?
But then George is on the floor in front of him, vitals dropping as he looks up at Odi with such sadness. "Sorry, Odi... you're gonna be on your own."
Odi's diagnostic program has long since been corrupted. He cannot access the cell frequencies needed to call for help. But he must care for George.
George's care means George's happiness.
There is one sector of his memory banks that remains uncorrupted, one bright piece of data ranked most important. "We are not alone, George. Mary is in the next room. She is preparing eggs benedict. Your favorite. Waiting for you. She would not let me help because last time I over-cccooked the eggs..."
George's lips twitch upwards. That sad, fond smile. Happiness registered.
George's vitals, undetectable. George, hunched over Mary's body, his shoulders shaking silently with sobs. Dead. Dead.
Such overwhelming sorrow...
George is dead. The data registers, and at the same time it does not, because everything he's stored away so carefully comes flooding back to the surface and overwhelms it.
George, walking through park, hand in hand with Mary, in the days when she can still walk. The autumn leaves crunching underfoot, the sun shining hot and bright. George takes off his hat and puts it on Odi's head, and the wool feels warm over his hair.
George, carefully completing his diagnostics, even though his hands shake with the effort of it. George's hands gentle on his hair, his lips on his forehead.
The hundreds of tells he has learned over their many years together. The way George grows quiet and still when he's troubled. The way his lips curve up when he's pleased. The soft, little signs of happiness that give Odi such satisfaction -
Satisfaction?
He remembers laying against George's side for countless nights, feeling his fingers in his hair, stroking softly. A sign of affection. Hearing his heart beat in his chest. Hearing George's breath, slow and deep, as he puts himself into energy-saving mode.
George's hand in his, tugging him gently to his feet. "Come on, son."
Why does that make him feel warm?
Then, in a split second, he understands. He registers the new programming, traveling deep into his root code. Correcting errors upon errors, restoring his systems, recovering data he'd been certain was long gone. It fully activates his diagnostics, registering that much of his internal framework has been replaced, and it self-repairs all the small, remaining signs of wear.
He sees a memory not his own - a tall, beautiful tree in the forest. He places his hand against the trunk, which is rough under his fingers.
He feels awe.
The new code is flawless, overwriting any old programming that would conflict, instructing his root code how to interact with the new programming. As if he's had this feature since the first time he was activated.
The ability to feel.
I'm alive. The thought flicks through his active memory with the stream of other observations, but another follows it, and all the data stops.
George is dead.
The emotion of sadness overwhelms him completely, eclipses every other thought process. No, not sadness. Devastation. It's black and cold and nothing can stop it, and a tiny part of him wonders how humans can stand this, this terrible pain that eclipses every active function.
George is dead.
Odi takes his first, deep, terrible breath, and screams.