[ HEY GUYS it's your friendly neighborhood android, here to not really answer all the burning questions for the influx of new arrivals. For those of you who have never seen him before, he looks like a mostly ordinary young man, except for the LED blue eyes and the exposed gold wiring all over his torso and neck. ]Ah, it seems another of these
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But he'd be a bigger idiot to show it.]
Before we begin, let me be sure I understand your concern. [The words are quiet, neutral, and completely non-confrontational, the blank precision of automated speech; please stay on the line. Your call is important to us...]
It sounds like you're offering to end me for ending myself. Is this correct?
[Objective: verify a direct threat for the logs.]
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But your mess, CLU. I do not approve of how it was left for others to clean up.
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Please assist me. You have so graciously, in the past. [The sneer is sudden, almost feral in intensity, and quickly suppressed.
He doesn't bother to stop himself from pacing, one arm cutting off remarks as though they can be gathered, to be hurled at the screen.]
My mess? Mess? Really?
Have you looked around. At this place. Lately. The grand tour begins in a waste heap!
But I'm dragging on. You must have specific concerns for particular others.
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How limiting your primary function must be. A sysadmin that glitches and shatters upon contact with natural chaos. How did your maker think you were going to handle reality?
Why don't you tell me what you think this is about, CLU.
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Natural? [He's laughing, but it's hysterical, like the scream of a slipped belt jamming in gears.] I'm not a waste handler. This filth is not. Where I was built. Not. What I was designed for. Not my area. Not. Mine.
I was so close. And now I'm here.
Alright then. [Sharp, boardroom hand-clap: down to business.] Let's cut the bull.
You're talking about Rinzler. He's the only one who cares enough to match your earlier description.
How'm I doing so far? [Serenely, too abrupt] Is this correct?
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Yes. I'm talking about Rinzler.
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You've definitely got my attention. [Damage control. Smooth it over until it gleams.] What's on your mind?
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Listen. Everyone thinks he's better off without me, anyway, and. I'm not sure they're wrong.
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He doesn't.
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He would tell me himself! He told me off about Ram, and Jalen, and talked me down off the roof! He'd tell me if--
Wouldn't he?
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Would he tell you that, to him, your suicidal impulses constitute an unforgivable failure on his part? No, I doubt it.
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It's just that the code shouldn't cover acts I initiated, or he'd have jumped me cycles ago in a blinding fury of autocorrect.
Has to be some other factor. Something more. [Sigh.] Analysis pending.
So. What's next?
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[ This is almost disbelieving. ]
He cares for you, Administrator. You may not have programmed that in, but Flynn programmed the capacity.
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In a lot of ways, Rinzler is--oh, there are User variables for it, platitudes, promises that shatter as soon as they're said.
He's...important to me. Beyond his functions, above his purpose. If I didn't care, I wouldn't still be here. I definitely wouldn't be admitting it to anyone else.
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