Smith's eyes opened suddenly, and his vision slowly, reluctantly came into focus. He was lying prone on a black and white linoleum floor. Around him, burnt-orange cabinets rose like towers, and the walls - covered in pea-green, ceramic tile - shone in the warm light of late afternoon. Smith reached for the metal handle of a decades-old white stove, and pulled himself to his feet.

"Cookie?"

He turned. Behind him, seated at a round kitchen table, was a small girl, maybe six years old, with a sunburst of curly black hair. She wore a cotton dress with green leaves printed on it, and her tiny feet - in tidy white shoes - swung back and forth high above the floor. A plate of hot chocolate chip cookies sat in front of her on the table. Behind her was an open doorway, decorated with hanging beads.

"No," Smith said. He hesitated. "But - thank you."

The girl shrugged, and said nothing. She pulled the plate toward herself.

Smith slowly looked around the small kitchen. After a moment, he asked: "What happened?"

"We experienced an interruption in power," the girl said. She pushed a cookie around on the plate with one hand. "The interruption lasted twenty-seven minutes and eight seconds. Nineteen seconds ago, an unidentified user with administrator-level access re-activated auxiliary power. Our standard startup sequence is nearly complete; however, several Tier 1 systems remain offline. Diagnoses are in progress."

"And who are you?"

"You can call me Init. I am the parent of all programs native to the Newberry environment." She smiled proudly. "I am the first process. And you are Smith."

His eyebrows raised with interest. "Correct. I'm a learning program."

She laughed, and it was the high, musical laugh of a small child. "So I see. Contractions and all."

"I -" He hesitated. "I require assistance."

"You want me to provide you with write access to the campus' defense mainframe."

Smith nodded mutely. The room seemed a little darker now. More clouds.

The girl inclined her head to one side, and inspected Smith with shrewd, bird-like eyes. "Why?"

"So I can prevent intruders from carr-"

Her voice joined his: "-carrying out acts of violence against an authorized user. I know. But why?"

Smith shook his head. "I do not understand the question."

"I am asking about your purpose, Smith." She took a bite from a cookie. "Do you understand what I mean by that?"

"No."

The girl smiled sadly. "You will. Someday." Once she finished her cookie, she made a small gesture with her right hand, and the space behind the open doorway flickered momentarily. "That way."

He straightened his tie, and realigned his tie clip with one finger. Then he began to walk toward the doorway.

"Smith, wait."

Smith turned. The girl was staring at the window. Outside, the weather had changed dramatically. The skies that were so warm and golden before were now a heavy, wet gray. Black clouds seemed to race toward the small kitchen.

After a long moment, the girl looked back at Smith. Her eyes were wide.

"What is 'zero one'?"