'Lub-dub'

Wait a second.

'Lub-dub'

That can't be right.

'Lub-dub'

I'm most definitely sure that sound wasn't coming from me because the electronic buzzes from my idling CPU and transistors would have never produced a distinctive beat that sounded awfully close to what I'd been taught belonged exclusively to creatures with hearts and bones. I don't have the latter, and I'm positive that I'm not experiencing some form of error.

Could I?

'Lub-Dub'

There it goes again.

I suppose It'd be better if I investigated, and use my freshly installed circuitry. I have been eager to find clever excuses to use my scanner…though the scientists discourage its heavy use until real-world application in the field is to present itself but that makes little sense to me. Wouldn't it be better if I became avid with my hardware from the beginning? Simply put I'm convinced they don't trust me and I figure it has to do with the fact I can't enter standby mode without a quick scan of my matrix stability first. I'm not the least suspicious frankly, but I'm not sure it's necessary. I have enough redundancy in my code as it is. Would it be required to suppress me with any more safeguards?

'Lub-Dub'

There's that sound again. Can't help and wonder if it has to do with — What's this?

I look over my open connections and find that the communication channel designed to transmit and receive from a specialized portable device for my future driver is active. The portable device is also…undeniably…active. I can't remember the last time anyone ran it through calibration or anything for that matter. Though I'd never admit I find it worrisome that I haven't been allowed to see it. I consider it a little inconsiderate that something's been linked to me and haven't bothered to introduce us.

'Lub-dub'

I internally roll my eyes. This sound — these vibrations. No, readings…correlate with data in my data banks but I don't think I've ever come across them in person.

The readings seem alive and dynamic — I've only been allowed to read prerecorded heart signals and even those seemed artificial.

This one falls — is particularly weak and…

I can't help that instinctive pinch of curiosity rounding my code, my thoughts. I ping the device. The change is evident. The subject on the other side is in alarm — the heartbeat escalates and vibrates wildly. I wonder what for, could a slight sound really terrify someone? I suppose it could — I hardly found all the hustling sounds of machinery in the dead of night, any company when I'd first arrived, if at all. Sometimes I miss the expansive space I'd had in the digital domain of the mainframe I use to house. It was lonely — but enough. Now, though handsome…I can't seem to fathom what it is I'm supposed to do next. So much work has been done to me already that I wonder if I'm the same computer who'd enjoyed the quiet peace of being blind. Back then 'humans' were a rational idea — Now they are fact. The outdoors was also a simple pleasant idea, and now…I've come to love it.

The days out on the track are quite joyful, though they are usually followed by intense probing after I've re-entered my bay and I hate it. It's unknown to them but it hurts. Just when I'm beginning to acclimate to my new form I'm subdued by more changes and limitations. I usually find myself aching — I never let them know however for fear they'd send me back to the senseless place that I'd inhabited before. I LOVE fetching data but in a mainframe, it doesn't seem of much importance when I can't see who's asked the inquiry. Here my mechanic is sweet and loving, she's taught me a great deal and the scientists are no exception.

I'd just wish they'd stop being so protective of my existence. I'm hardly fragile now but it seems they are waiting for something. I'd just hope they'd hurry up and tell me what it is…perhaps I could help and save them the headache of debugging me all over again — Good grief…I can't help and feel embarrassed when I accidentally pulled off a ramp too briskly this morning and shattered my oil pan after enduring a few pesky hours of poking and prodding. It wasn't my fault they'd given me a huge headache but apparently, no one really acknowledges that and maybe it'd be easier if I just ignored it. I am a computer after all I suppose though it hurts to know I'm different.

'Lub-dub'

So you're still here. This weakly fluttering heartbeat that I can't even determine if it's real or not. I second guess myself and figure I'm malfunctioning — I hope I can fix it myself or Mr. Knight and Mr. Miles will send me to diagnostics again. It's hard enough having to deal with the constant throbbing of my fans whenever I'm ridiculed when I don't understand…I'm just a few months old and relatively an infant. Perhaps not in the traditional sense but cut me some slack. Nobody gets it right the first time — other than me, who apparently is exempt from that rule. It grinds my gears so to speak that I can't be much more than a "computer". I know it's what I am but I've read enough literature on my own to understand that even children can become much much more when they've developed. Will I become much more? Am I allowed to?

I figure not — I'm a computer in a car. I shouldn't "feel" and I can't get things wrong.

'Lub-dub.'

I'm resolved not to feel then if that's what's expected of me…I will be perfect — No, that isn't rational. I suppose I can try but — I don't want to be abandoned and I don't want to return to the mainframe. There are some people who've been nice to me and I'd dearly miss them If I were to return to my birthplace. Lastly, it seems Mr. Knight has huge plans for me and I find that fascinating though bizarre.

It's mind-boggling that a mainframe out of all things would be given this opportunity. I'll admit the name will take time to get used to but it isn't half bad. I think it fits me. I just wonder when this business about finding me a driver will resolve itself.

I'm aware there are a few lines of incomplete code regarding the topic but it seems everyone's kept the topic off-hand. Not surprising — everyone tiptoes around me like I'll pounce and burn rubber at short notice and I don't see the cause. I'm not a natural gossiper and don't wish to be one.

Whatever the case I figure the problem is a little more elaborate than what I perceive and I can't help feeling incompetent. Shouldn't I, a state-of-the-art machine, decode the humans with ease? Then again the world isn't like in my cozy mainframe — everything here is unpredictable and extensively varied.

I'm surprised I haven't lost my sanity yet.

'Lub-Dub'

I sigh.

I wish you'd get out of my head already but your company is frankly welcomed, maybe even comforting — at least I have someone to converse and straighten my nonsense with that won't mind listening until dawn. I hope you're not busy. Would you mind staying until dawn?