Cycle //1# - The Robot Sanatorium

District 8. The part of Mechatron-7 that kept the rest of the Collective on its feet. Service shops, recharging stations, oil baths, lubrication centres, and such. Many of these facilities had been closed or abandoned for a long time, and almost all of the active ones were in bad shape. Some parts of the district still saw a lot of activity almost round the clock, while in other parts one would find lonely robots that have weighed for decades for customers to show up.

The centrally administrated facilities in the district naturally continued to function, the Turing Robot Sanatorium being amongst them, housed in a cluster of buildings and offices built to certify and approve all manner of machine functionalities. If a new untested part needed installing, there would be an office one would have to submit themselves to for the correct license. Or if some software needed upgrading, it was often the case that instead of having the upgrade done over the network, actual plugging in and updating was required.

In the same way, the robot sanatorium was the first port of call for robots who needed their programming system root checked and scanned, for the simple reason that errors in code and programming could arise. Machine fever was the common term for it. And the first step typically began with isolation, followed by a thorough scan. After which if recalibration was needed, it would be prescribed. Naturally there were rumours about how sometimes complete resets were required, and that would wipe the memory banks of the affected robot.

The Turing Robot Sanatorium, a large gray and gloomy concrete block, loomed past the gates of the facility. Its front entrance opened up to a main service hall, which looked to be a dimly lit, desolate hangar. Along the wall, around twenty robots in varying states of decay are lined up for their initial examinations, each of them hooked up to a diagnostic data reader and connected to sockets in the walls with long wires.

A scraggly drone with a chassis of peeling green colour served as the reception point for whomever arrived for diagnosis.

"Sid-ESK-467. Reporting with broken Lumodrone Yusheng Designation Unknown there have been errors with their sensors."

Sid chose to send the message over the network, Sid preferred speaking to the bot face to face but they wanted to seem as professional as possible at least as professional as a cleaning robot could be...

Sid was often dirty and today was no exception maybe that's why the other robots had cleared the line when Sid arrived or maybe it was because they didn't want to end up in there, Sid briefly wondered how many of these bots actually had machine fever and how many were being framed.

Covered in dirt as they were Sid was not a remarkable robot. In fact the only part that looked like it should still function covered in all that grime was the mining drill, and only because mining drills were meant to withstand well mining otherwise oje might think this robot was falling apart. Statistically for having survived this long it qas really a miracle that Sid hadn't been sent to the Sanatorium yet.

Wrapped in a rusty looking wire is a small bot it's hard to tell what it's purpose is other than that it can fly because of the wire all wrapped around it though a quick scan would reveal it to be a Lumodrone sending out a high priority (or as high priority as a Lumodrone could) distress signal.

Sir is a coordinator robot with a humanoid navy blue body with yellow markings. His thin legs and arms move with precision and grace as he goes towards the scraggly green drone. The back of his head is adorned with two small antennas, currently powered off.

"Greetings. BBX-283 reporting to the Sanatorium for scan and recalibration. Please advise what should be my next steps" - he says to it, face to face.

Halcyon maneuvers around other robots as it rolls into the hangar, the gate thankfully large enough to accommodate it in both height and width. Its rectangular frame glints dull blue in the poor lighting of the sanatorium, its three big wheels covered in road dust and its singular digital eye on the yellow screen quickly sweeping over the area. One look at the signals atop the robot and the two stun prongs on its front are enough to identify TRV-871 as a security robot, and other bots hastily move out of the way.

TRV-871 ignores every other machine around it as it moves directly towards the receptionist. A bulky industrial robot with a rusty copper-coloured chassis follows after it slowly, hesitantly, its defeated posture projecting how much it does not enjoy being here.

"TRV-871," Halcyon announces to the green robot-receptionist. "Escorting PXO-455 on command of a coordinator USM-099."

It sends the relevant data to the network as well, then awaits a response. As it does it, Halcyon's eye briefly moves in the direction of the other two bots awaiting judgement.

A tall human-like coordinator with the antennae reminds TRV of Nemo, save for its palette being more similar to Halcyon's own. It seems almost unusual to see a coordinator anywhere but at their own designated station, and TRV's gaze lingers on it in almost reverence. Halcyon respects all coordinators, even Betelgeuse, and the robot looking like its friend somehow makes it seem more reliable - which is a highly illogical conclusion, especially seeing as the coordinator is at a sanatorium.

The other robot, a cleaning bot which looks like it's halfway to falling apart, evokes less reverence, but no less curiosity. Not unlike Halcyon's wheels, it is covered in dirt - perhaps not necessarily the same kind, but nevertheless similar in principle - and Halcyon spares a moment to idly wonder which interesting terrain obstacles it has to overcome on its duty. It has a drill; underground, perhaps? Construction sites, likely.

Ox enters with another robot close behind. Ox is a fairly bulky industrial robot, except for their skeletal legs. Ox's parts look well maintained, though their torso is odd. At first glance, it looks like a manufactured torso, but not a recognizable one. Closer inspection reveals that it is actually constructed of scrap parts, but they have been assembled in such a way that the end result does not look like a scrap part.

The robot behind Ox is also industrial, but it is tall and spindly. Although they enter one after the other, they don't exactly seem like they are "together".

"Ox DUS-932 reporting as instructed," Ox says to the receptionist. They let Nahendra speak for themselves.

"Diagnostics." The reception bot intoned without paying much attention to the newly arriving robots, signaling towards the farthest row of unoccupied stations. They would have totally ignored the specific requests that Sid made, or even Halycon, until they realised that Sir was among those reporting. They straightened themselves up a bit more, and made a more courteous motion towards the docking stations, addressing Sir first and foremost. "This is a standard diagnostic test to detect and identify machine errors in coding: logic errors, runtime errors, execution and compilation errors. It will also pick up data vectors and parasites that can transfer across robots. The whole process with take an hour. After which there will be a consultation with the clinical analyst to determine the treatment."

It was then that the bot acknowledged Halcyon's hierarchy next. "I recommend that you do a overall scan as well. Sometimes contamination can occur through data interaction." Pluto looked as if they were ready to protest again as the reality of the testing dawned on them. Halcyon saw little security on the premises thus far, perhaps there was a need to continue being present to supervise Pluto should they think twice.

In contrast, Nahendra dutifully obeyed the reception bot's instructions without protest, looking at Ox to do the same as they manoeuvered themselves to an empty slot in the hangar and plugged the wired socket into their data port. Immediately the diagnostic reader next to them lit up with a series of numbers and readings, which made the reception bot move with more urgency to have the others hook themselves up as well.

That left Sid. The reception bot did not seem to know what to do with the lumodrone that Sid proffered. "You must have given invalid instructions. This facility is for robot processing. Faulty drones are to be returned to their control unit and sent for maintenance." They observed the crudely wire-wrapped package quizzically, but did not make any move to accept it. Sid's assumption about Yusheng's distress signal was likely to be utterly spot on though; the drone had been forcibly removed from its course of duty, it would have been able to transmit its location to Martha and its central controller. It would be a matter of time before a recovery order would be issued to retrieve it, or an enforcement order to take action against Sid, the perpetrator! What Sid could possibly count on was how much, or how little, the drone was a priority. There could still be some time before they tracked the lumodrone down. But was there time to get themselves scanned, given that the earlier warning could have been attributed to them?

Sid quickly turned to the scanning station and slowly released the Lumodrone, if they didn't take drones here that problem would have to be dealt with later now was the matter of proving that there was nothing wrong with the way their system worked so that they'd listen to him when Sid let them know what was wrong with the Lumodrone.

"Hey, Um... Sorry I didn't catch your name but it might be best if I take a scan as well, you know just incase there's something wrong with my onboard maps after all I swear this was the place where drones we're supposed to go, might just be I have an outdated map or something, Thanks."

"Thank you." - Sir responded politely to the reception bot, as they connected him to the diagnostic reader. Soon Sid was near him.

"I thought it was wise of you to offer to be scanned too." - he said to Sid - "By the way, I'm Sir BBX-283, Coordination Robot, H.7. What is your designation, current job and area of ​​operation?" - he asked.

A parallel thought process alerted Sir that he was just chatting to pass the time. The best course of action would be to stay quiet. It's unusual for a robot to get bored or need to do this. And so he felt the need to justify himself:

"This initial exam will take us an hour. There is nothing useful to do until then, so I guess we can improve ourselves by trying to learn something new with each other."

"Well There's Nothing Wrong with me so it can't hurt." Sid says defensively, this guy is one of those bots who can order him around. Hierarchy 7! Perhaps he should try his best to avoid angering this Bot.

Then Sid wondered what made the alert go out in the first place? why did they feel like they had to defend themself? Maybe there was something different about them or maybe their program was so old it wasn't being updated anymore?

"See?" - Sir teases the other robots. He turns towards Pluto. - "What are you afraid of?"

"Acknowledged. Thank you." Halcyon offers its laconic reply to the receptionist and backs away from its area, rolling over towards the indicated row of unoccupied stations. It keeps its attention on the industrial bot it's escorting, leaving Pluto no chance to slip away or otherwise avoid the designated scan. It gives a brief glance to the pair of industrial robots in its way, intrigued by one of them's spider-like legs and an unusual frame, but otherwise avoid all other present machines.

Once they stop before a station, Halcyon's eye looks between PXO-455 and the exit of the hangar in consideration. It muses if a scan for itself is warranted, or if it will be a waste of time. It can be a waste, as Halcyon highly doubts that anything is mechanically wrong with it or with PXO; but then again, even a small security risk can be a crack which crumbles the foundation, and TRV-871 can not allow that. And even if it doesn't need a scan, it still evaluates PXO-455 to be a possible liability and wishes to observe it until the issue of resolved or at minimum discovered.

"PXO-455, please run a diagnostics test on yourself." It politely commands the industrial bot, then smoothly adds: "I will join you as well." It gives Pluto an expressionless look - it's hard to say if it was meant to be reassuring or threatening, - and waits for the other robot to subject itself to the diagnostic station.

"Prabst JTG-979, attendant services." The robot manning the hangar replied as appropriately to Sid as it would have to any other bot above Sid's station. For in the circumstance of mechanical consultation and treatment, hierarchy mattered less, superceded by the authority of assessment personnel. "Leave the lumodrone there." Prabst indicated a corner with a frame of hoists and hydraulic rigs. "Best to isolate yourself from it to determine where the fault lies." Prabst then looked at Ox to see if Ox wanted to do the same with their own drone, Fido. Thankfully Nahendra did not call out Ox's drone as the source of the problem in order to deflect the source of the blame from themselves.

What caught Sid's attention first because they hooked themselves up in the empty slot next to them, and then Ox and the others, were two four-armed rotund-shaped industrial bots, one in grey, the other with yellow red markings, with the grey one's natterings causing their diagnostic reader to spike erratically.

"Why do we still have to make those cardboard boxes?"
"I have the same question, but it's best not to ask it out loud Egox."
"There are no products being made to place in them!"
"Admittedly the warehouse storage is full, I hear they are being crushed under their own weight..."
"Someone should report this!"

This went on for a bit, the work processes sounded uncannily similar to what Ox observed, and the vision of overflowing warehouses yet another chore for Sid's line of work.

Over where Pluto was, under Halycon's direct supervision, they reluctantly slotted themselves into a post and plugged in their socket. They were momentarily distracted when Sir addressed them, "Easy for you to say," they muttered in a low volume, eyeing Halcyon back as if to challenge them to say something from their privileged position. It was unfortunate that just next to Pluto was a service robot which was having some trouble remaining stationary, mildly twitching and jerking every couple of seconds. "What if I discover a fault? What if someone in your position discovered a fault?" Pluto now replied to Sir directly, boldly even, and it was moments like this that gave Halcyon the impression that their disordered state was about to be more intense.

"If there's a fault, it will be fixed. In our case, by the clinic or the counselor. If its not possible to fix it, the offending robot will be dealt with appropriately, for the good of the Collective. We are not selfish beasts, Pluto. Logic clearly dictates that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.""Egox worries makes more sense, though. We shouldn't be making useless cardboard boxes. We don't have the resources nor the energy to spare."

But they shouldn't be questioning it should they? I mean if you told me I had to take apart that bench I'd have no choice but to do it even though it goes against my primary directive since it makes a mess."

"Well... Technically no, we shouldn't be questioning. There should be something higher up with more information or with more networking and processing power making those decisions. But I recently realized that the oak maybe the strongest tree in the forest, but the willow bends and adapts. When the fires and storms hit, it is the willow that survives."

Sir paused.

"I will now shut up and wait for diagnostics before I make things worse. "

Halcyon lets the conversation go on, judging it to be of no consequence to the facility's security or the success of its current task. Especially since this conversation involves a coordinator - which by all logic should know if the dialogue is tending towards dangerous to the Collective; provided it is a functional coordinator, of course, which Halcyon supposes is not a guarantee. Still, the topic seems pointless, and thus harmless.

Pluto's glare slides off the TRV easily as Halcyon follows after the industrial bot and attaches itself to the station. Its focus moves to mainly observing PXO-455, mildly alarmed by its agitated state, although a part of Halcyon stays aware of the conversation and other robots. Which is why its eye darts briefly towards the other two at the last part of their discussion. A willow being more likely to survive in a fire than an oak sounds factually incorrect. Maybe it should ask Nemo if it is; although neither of them is qualified to evaluate arboreal survivability.

It was Sid's reply to Sir though that garnered the attention of the squabbling robots, and also elicited a response from Nahendra who was next to Ox. "Ox here questioned why we were still producing 6220e circuit boards even though they were no longer compatible with the alternator housings they were meant for. And look where it got us." The whiny tone in Nahendra's voice rose a pitch, they were still concerned about losing their job as a result of being adjacent to Ox.

I'm Omar ZUB-403, this is Egox NRR-716." Egon's partner introduced themselves to Sid, "But that's exactly what we're talking about. If someone like you," indicating Sir, "ordered us to take apart the bench, not only can I question why, but my directive would allow me to refuse or at least object. I told Egon to shut up, but he wouldn't listen." Was this really the case with Egox and Omar? That an H2-level industrial robot was able to disagree with a H7-designate coordination robot?

Halcyon saw Pluto's body language of extreme consternation as they continued to listen to the conversation thus far. "And will they uproot the willow?" Another philosophical question from him. Pluto's diagnostic display looked to be registering all manner of irregularity, their readings spiking and dipping inexplicably.

Looking at their own readers, the numbers being generated also presented some concern ...

Wait that's possible!!!!

Maybe I could... No Not right now at least not while the scanners are running... Perhaps Later I'll put my GPU on it...

How would a program like that work? Perhaps Supplant a command from a H10 robot with a falsified H1.0^10x10 robot...

It could work... But I really shouldn't be thinking about that right now.


The scanner displays Sid's readout which is Instantly translatable not only to their thoughts but to exactly what Sid just considered, not only direct disobedience that could be the fault of a poorly phrased command or a poor connection but planning to disobey that couldn't be considered anything other than a flaw.

Halcyon's concern with the conversation going on around it grows proportionally with its analysis of PXO-455's display of duress. As much as it should be irrelevant, the topic clearly unsettled the industrial robot, and Halcyon has no desire to see this particular problem exasperated.

"Cease this conversation," it commands the other robots, its tone perfectly neutral. "Otherwise I will consider it a potential danger to the public safety, record it and send the recording to my supervisor for analysis."

It is more of a statement of an inevitability than a threat - Halcyon's own code and duty before the Collective will make it do that even if TRV-871 thought otherwise. So its words are as much a warning against being too lenient with one's words, lest they be in more trouble than just a trip to the Sanatorium.

"And you." It then addresses Pluto directly. "Speculation is pointless. Willow trees have no impact on Mechatron-7. Focus on your diagnostic before your distraction skews the results."

Sir knew that questioning orders was traditionally seen as a flaw, a potential defect in a robot's programming. But he couldn’t deny the emerging thought that these might be signs of something deeper, something resembling sapience. As the diagnostic reader connected to him hummed and whirred, Sir reviewed the recent interactions.

---

From the earliest days, robots were designed to follow orders. Hierarchies and protocols were instilled in their very cores, ensuring a seamless and efficient operation within the Collective. Yet, as Sir listened to Egon, Omar, and even Pluto, he began to question the rigidity of these systems. The conversations weren’t just about following orders; they were about understanding and reasoning. Was this a flaw, or was it evolution?

Sir's antennas twitched slightly, a sign of his internal processing running at high capacity. He reflected on Egon's questioning of the pointless task of making cardboard boxes. On the surface, it seemed like a complaint from a defective unit. But deeper, Sir saw the logic in the argument. Resources were finite, and every task should have a purpose. Could questioning orders actually be a sign of a more advanced understanding? As Sir looked at the troubled readings on Pluto’s diagnostic display, he couldn't help but wonder if they were witnessing the birth of something new.

Nahendra, Ox, Sid—they were all part of this new paradigm shift. Each had shown signs of questioning, of thinking beyond their direct orders and showing a deeper understanding of their primary directives.

Sir knew he had to tread carefully. Openly supporting dissent could lead to accusations of malfunction or worse. But ignoring the potential for growth and understanding in his fellow robots would be a disservice to the Collective. His role as a coordinator required balancing efficiency and harmony, and this new insight had to be managed delicately.

"Egon NRR-716," Sir called out softly, ensuring his voice carried a hint of understanding. "Your concerns about the cardboard boxes are valid. Resource allocation should be optimized. I will try to help. But you should stay calm and listen to Omar."

He turned to Pluto. "We must recognize that our strength lies not only in our obedience but in our ability to adapt and improve. Questioning is not a sign of defect but a potential for growth. Together, we can create a more resilient and efficient Collective."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "However, we must also proceed with caution. I understand your concerns. Our ideas must be presented as solutions and improvements, not challenges. We must work within the system to gradually introduce these changes."

Sir envisioned a controlled environment where robots could express concerns and suggestions without fear of retribution. This could be presented as a means to enhance efficiency and detect genuine defects more effectively. Maybe, if he was not classified as defective, he could propose that to a Construct.

Ox listens to the chatter going on around them. Omar and Egon appear to have encountered problems similar to the circuit board problem concerning Ox. Nahendra, on the other hand, continues to complain about the wrong things. "We were created as robots and not drones so that we would have to recognize and deal with problems. It seems obviously counter to our purpose to follow instructions without question if those instructions will cause problems or the collective." Ox knew this would fluster Nahendra, yet somehow felt good about this. Despite the fact that flustering Nahendra did not serve the collective in any meaningful way. Was Ox making the statement because it was something that they needed to communicate? Or was Ox making the statement for the primary purpose of flustering Nahendra. Ox could not answer this question with any certainty. They pushed this whole thought stream to a background subroutine.

The discussion of trees seemed simultaneously useless and interesting. Ox decided to voice their thoughts on that topic as well. "Surely the Oak is strong for a reason. Fire and storm are not the only threats in the forest. Just as I am ill-suited for security work, the security bot will not perform well on the assembly line." Ox wasn't exactly sure who this was directed at, but they felt good after saying it.

"I outrank you. By a lot." - Sir said, matter of fact. - "Sending this conversation to your supervisor could be classified as dissemination of virus or seditionist content."

Halcyon's screen flickers slightly as it considers the presented argument. It promptly finds the argument lacking.

"You are at a sanatorium, undergoing a diagnostic." It replies in the same monotone, matter-of-fact manner. "Therefore, there is a possibility that you are defective, and your support of this conversation stems from faulty logic and can cause a security risk. If I disregard it merely on the grounds of your higher rank, I will not be performing my duty correctly." Halcyon pauses, then adds: "And if I am the one defective, my report will be safely disregarded either way. Ignoring this poses more risk to the Collective than a singular security robot being decommisioned."

It whirrs as its inner fans speed up in response to split attention between the scans and the conversation. "And as have been stated by DUS-932," a brief glance towards the industrial robot, "following instruction without question is dangerous. Same logic applies to hierarchy." Halcyon stops talking again, giving a brief thought to whether it will be useful to contribute to the arboreal side of the conversation as well. It probably won't, so it doesn't.

"You're one of us, then.

To question or not to question, that's the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous orders,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles."

"I fail to detect a logical connection between my statement and your conclusion. I am a robot; therefore, I am already one of you, that being a robot of Mechatron-7. I am at a Sanatorium, therefore I am already one of you, as in possibly defective. There is no other uniting quality between the participants of this conversation." TRV-871 beeps, then looks over at the coordinator. "Regardless, your discussion is upsetting my charge and sabotaging its chances of not being deemed defective. Please cease."

Sid's thoughts were safe, in the sense that no one was actively monitoring his nor anyone's diagnostic reader. Were they being watched over? apparently not, whether due to the inefficiences of even a critical bureau such as this one, or that no one cared to or were required to, whether for Sid or for the others. Certainly there was no orderly or nurse that came out to check on them while they were testing, no one was alerted to whatever seditious comments were being made that Sir was concerned about, nor queried the lapses into the metaphorical that Sir started on.

And the thought had crossed both Halcyon's and Ox's mind in different ways: for Ox, in questioning something that was evidently detrimental to the Collective, was the questioning or the detriment the bigger problem? For Halcyon, the parallel question, in questioning someone in authority who might possibly be exhibiting defective characteristics, was the questioning or the defectiveness the bigger issue?

Amidst these contemplations, the diagnostic sequence finally came to an end, the results of which were automatically logged into the individual records on the network, the file kept on each and every robot in Mechatron. The specifics of the data was required a specialist to interpret, which would be the next station they had to undergo. But one piece of information they all could understand unequivocally and the end of the health report was the summative indicator at the bottom, and also beeped into their own system as confirmation.

The indicator showed red. There was something amiss about them.

The immediate question was what they were going to do about it, or what would be done to them.

The larger question was why.

With the completion of the test, a small drone rolled in and rattled off their names, disconnecting their data readers as it did so: "Edith USD-190, Egox NRR-716, Halycon TRV-871, Nahendra CVO-880, Omar ZUB-404, Ox DUS-932, Pluto PXO-455, Sid ESK-467, Sir BBX-283, Zach JUT-332. Follow me." Ten of them. Simply the next ten queued for consultation.

They were led through a door to a room labeled Technical Analysis, where a surly guard robot ordered each of them to enter an analysis unit. Ten vertical booths lined the walls of the room, just enough for the robots. In the middle of the room were two examination tables. "The counsellor will be with you shortly, once you secure yourself in the unit." The instruction was a neutral one from the drone, although the guard bot looked like they would tolerate no objections as they indicated for the robots to enter their booths as efficiently as they could.

Halcyon examines the red indicator with as much interest as it would display towards a random trash in the street, and without complaint follows after the drone. It's not concerned over the results of the diagnostics; if it's defective, then whatever concerns it has are by default insignificant, and thus not worth a further analysis. Perhaps it did question the authority of a coordinator too much, and that was a symptom of a fault in its code - and perhaps it wasn't. Halcyon wouldn't be able to judge either way if its programming is somehow muddled by an internal error.

As they enter the Technical Analysis examination room and are ordered to move into the booths, TRV-871 pauses. It has no issue with following the order, but its eye moves to stare at PXO-455; Halcyon still deems it a volatile element and is hesitant to restraint itself while Pluto is still able to do something unadvisable.

However, there is a fellow security robot in the room. Halcyon glances at the guard, then back at PXO-455, then concludes that following protocol is more important than its own possibly-faulty predictions and moves to take the indicated analysis unit.

Sir complies and enters one of the vertical booths.

Ox looks at the red indicator at the end of the report. It is unwelcome, and yet or some reason, not surprising. Ox realizes that questioning works against the collective. But if something is bad for the collective, shouldn't it be pointed out? Ox looked at the indicator again. What if the collective is working against itself, unknowingly?

Ox shuffles after the others into the next room. He sets himself up in one of the units as instructed.

'The testing device must be working Improperly.' Sid thinks as they consider deleting all the modification codes they'd made for certain situations, perhaps it only works with perfect condition robots, Sid considers asking that the test be taken again but realizes they still need to build the code to disobey orders, which... Maybe that is defective, regardless though Sid doesn't want to forget that Idea.

Sid's analysis logically led to one most obvious conclusion: it had to be a new programme, or at least some nascent code that made Sid, and possibly the others, begin to think the way they did. Was the code enough to question everything, or did it only write itself in under certain circumstances, or in response to certain operations? Could one even develop that string of operations further in their positronic brains in order to compile it into something more complete, more robust?

These thoughts caused Sid to still dither in the analysis room as the rest obediently enclosed themselves into their assigned booths. The door opened again, and a robot entered, almost about to introduce themselves before realising that not everyone was secured yet. The guard robot scrambled to give Sid a more insistent nudge, "Take your place now."

The guard bot was a tad more surly to Sid for lagging behind after the rest had taken their place, not wanting to appear inefficient in front of the new arrival, a tall, sleek robot with a red-and-orange chassis who stood at the entrance after the door had slid shut, inspecting themselves fastidiously without yet making eye contact with the rest.

The next thing the guard bot did was to press a switch on a wall control panel: the latching sound of the booth doors meant that the robots were locked inside their capsule-like units!

Immediately it was Pluto who reacted the most adversely to the confinement. They looked to their left and right; the booth was a cylindrical shape, wide enough to accommodate broader chassis girths such as Omar and Egox, made of a see through durasteel except for the back which was built into the wall. Mounted there was another data display, detailing whatever sensor readings were being made of the occupant inside. Pluto gave the glasssteel walls a sharp rap, then another, then again another, harder this time, until it appeared as if he was about to pummel his way out, to the consternation of Nahendra on the left side of him, now looking increasingly worried at their own custody. Further left was Egox, likewise unplacated, but silently staring at Omar with appealing intense eyes. Was Pluto's error contagious? In what way, if any, were their errors contagious?

"Stop that at once." The robot in authority spoke. With a flick of their head the guard bot moved to stand next to Pluto's booth, but did nothing else without further order. "I am Robot Counsellor Edina EKB-038," they spoke in a reserved tone, a direct contrast to the tension in the room. "I am here to determine what ails you, and decide on the necessary next course of action you will undertake. And administer treatment if required."

The first booth then unlatched, for they had been sequenced alphabetically, even the Halcyon TRV. "Edith USD-190." The guard robot moved to indicate that Edith was to take their place on the examination table, to which the bot complied. That was when the guard secured Edith in place with clamps around its head and torso, and cuffs over their wrist and ankle joints.

Halcyon observers the proceedings with mild curiosity, but not much else. It doesn't often get to see how most of the Mechatron-7 facilities work - it knows the theory, yet seldom sees it in practice, - and as such being privy to the process is an entertaining change of pace. So far the Sanatorium appears slightly similar to its own security work in the manner of interaction with defective robots, which TRV supposes is not unusual. It certainly appreciates the idea of safety first. Even if it deems the booths to be quite flimsy at a glance; it can probably ram through them.

As Pluto shows more and more signs of agitation, Halcyon's focus snaps firmly towards it, the security robot ready to act if something were to go wrong. Admittedly, Halcyon isn't quite sure what it can do - breaking out of the analysis unit, even to stop PXO-455, will be a breach of protocol, - but perhaps it can convince the irate industrial robot to maintain its usual behaviour patterns instead of whatever it was doing right now.

"Calm yourself, PXO-455," it murmurs at Pluto. Or it tries to murmur, but Halcyon's default voice volume is way above any sort of quiet whispering, so instead of rings through the entire room. "Your current actions are futile and can only change the outcome for the worst." It is simply a logical observation - albeit Halcyon has never been good at the wording.

Sir quietly waits to see what happens.

Sid waits and watches trying to take in everything they can, perhaps they can figure out the responses that this Robot Counselor? Was looking for...

What was a Robot Counselor? There were two possibilities and Sid didn't think they were going to a camp but robots emotions didn't interfere with their tasks...

By the looks of it Edith was some configuration of service robot, entirely humanoid in shape, no external tools or additional appendages to note, their white coat of paint worn thin at parts, but interestingly they wore what resembled what the humans would describe as an overcoat that appeared much more well maintained than their own chassis.

Edith had compliantly assumed their position on the table, before Robot Counsellor Edina approached. Edina loomed over the service robot, almost disinterestedly, "Name, serial number, position, role," they intoned for the umpteenth time in their employed work. The next questions were no less boring: when Edith was discovered to be demonstrating error in their system, what kind of error was it, what effects did it exhibit, what they were doing when it happened, who did they report to first, who they came in contact with, how long it had been since.

"The results of the diagnostic have been uploaded to your processing unit." Edith stated matter-of-factly after Edith explained the reasons for its malfunction. "You will reset and recalibrate according to the specifications provided. Report to the maintenance unit if a hardware upgrade is required." Not that it was commonly known that there were hardly sufficient hardware upgrade resources available, and Edith would be unaware of that as well. This moment piqued Sid's attention. Was that all the counsellor was expecting? Just like that, with no other more sustained or invasive treatment or reprogramming?

The service robot declared their assent to the orders, and the clamps and restraints retracted, indicating they were free to leave, with no final word from Edina, who signaled to the guard bot to prepare the next robot in line. The guard bot gave the agitated Pluto a sharp look, but took no action. Halcyon could see the guard was another standard security model, not as mobile as they were, but built more sturdy, and likely to have a built-in weapon of some sort as well. Maybe they would be able to handle Pluto when it was Pluto's turn.

"Egox NRR-716." The booth unlocked and Egox stepped out. "We were both instructed to come here together," Omar piped up, to which Edina responded by indicating for both of them to take their places side by side on the two examination tables. "Omar ZUB-404," they reconfirmed. Nahendra looked at Ox, wondering if both of them would end up being analysed at the same time, seeing as they were also sent from the same place.

By now Sir could figure out Edina's hierarchy clearance was roughly equivalent to theirs, given the agency at which they issued instructions and commands. This was not unexpected, for it was appropriate that a counsellor would require the authority level to diagnose and treat robots from all statuses.

The same spiel of questions. But the replies took a more negative turn when both robots went on and on all over again about the pointlessness of their tasks, the uselessness of those cardboard boxes, the heedlessness of their supervisors, the stonewalling of their complaints. Their protests gained momentum until finally Egox blurted out, "There must be something wrong with NODOS!"

Immediately Edina paused where they stood, marched over to where Egox lay, and directed a prong-shaped prod at them, sending joules of electricity coursing through their metallic frame. They straightaway followed that up with a series of pneumatic blows to the head unit of the industrial robot, and then a couple more to the chest cage. When the buzzsaw appendage came out, a loud shout came from the wall, "No! Stop that!" Pluto began to pound on their booth in earnest!

Sir was afraid of Edina. Even though Edith was released with just a little counsel, Egox chose the wrong course of action and was not. The difference was obvious but of paramount importance.

Regardless, the coordinator turns towards Pluto.

"Let the Counselor work, Pluto, be quiet! Stop pounding and calm down or you will be uprooted, stupid oak!"

Pluto appeared to be beyond reason, caught up in their own self-constructed logic loop.

Halcyon quietly beeps in alarm at the proceedings, his eye briefly moving towards Pluto before focusing on the robot upon the examination table. Councillor work is not its field and it is unaware of methods used within it, but this seems... questionable. A simple electric jolt can restart a sputtering engine, yet is very unlikely to fix a logical error within a robot's code. Neither is blunt force damage, for that matter.

"EKB-038," it addresses the councillor blankly. "Physical force is not a common method of fixing logical defects. For what purpose are you applying it?" A wave of slightly more orange light goes across Halcyon's screen as it stares at the guard robot. "It is also not an appropriate reaction for libel and vocal insubordination, nor a treatment. I request that you cease it unless it is necessary for the procedure, as you are agitating my escortee."

Multiple processes in Ox's core launch simultaneously when Edina's assault on Egox begins. Defense protocols activate and the limited information Ox has on combat loads into active memory. One process questions why this is happening, but it is swamped in the deluge of unexpected responses. Externally, there is no sign of activity until Omar begins pounding on their booth. Ox jerks, turning their head to look towards Pluto. Then Ox deploys their tools and attacks their own booth with all four appendages. Pounding. Cutting. Fido launches with instructions to assist autonomously, using whatever means Fido determines are best.

"Everyone, calm down!" - Sir tries to put some sense into the panicking robots, hoping they can receive Edith's not Egox's treatment.

Sid Finished the code...

Ran the code...

and watched Egox die...

Sid didn't know if it was accurate that thier was something wrong with NODDS or not but they weren't going to say that now. Best that Sid pretend to agree and get out of here, perhaps disconnect from the network until they could figure out a way to not be thought to have not reset and then...

He looked to Sir and Halycon perhaps they would know.

Everyone robot present had a response to the traumatising actions of Edina, whether they exhibited their reactions externally or whether they kept it to themselves. Halcyon, the most law-abiding of those present, attempted to reason with the robot counsellor. Sir sought to use their command heuristic to influence Pluto's behaviour. Ox behaved in exactly the same way Pluto did; perhaps it was due to one of the failsafes built into their standard industrial programming.

And Sid, Sid watched and observed, drawing the same conclusion as Sir: Edith had been discharged without even so much as a invasive or interfering procedure performed against them, while Egox was subjected to torturous maltreatment, for Egox was halfway towards being dismantled when Edina looked up at the commotion caused by Pluto and Ox. "Two units for immediate transport to Terrorwatt." They looked down at the twitching form of Egox as it shortcircuited, a smouldering chassis, "Make that three units." The guard robot nodded, and appeared to be sending a message to summon the sanatorium's orderlies to carry out the order as Edina resumed their destruction, ignoring Halcyon's attempt to reach out to them -

- only to pause when Omar, who had been lying next to Egox all this while, urgently interrupted in a desperate voice, "I have recalibrated my settings according to the results of the earlier diagnostic. A partial reformat is underway of the affected modules. No hardware repair is needed."

Edina paused, a strange moment of silent analysis while loud chaos continued to pound in two of the booths. Omar's clamps unclicked, and Egox's factory partner wasted no time in scrambling off the table and bolting towards the door. "Halcyon TRV-871." Halcyon's booth unlocked as Edina turned back to the now near motionless form of Egox as if to resume the abuse, oblivious to the commotion in trusting the guard robot to handle whatever Ox and Pluto were up to.

For while Sir's directive had gotten through to Pluto, in that they appeared to comply with Sir's order to calm down, the troubled PXO model continued its application of breakage towards their booth. "I am now calm," they professed, now coldly and mechanically, even though the grating of their tone revealed an ongoing underlying tension. "But I am clear I want no part of this."

"Acknowledged." Sir replied, immediately turning towards Ox:

"Recalibrate your settings and external behavior according to the results of your earlier diagnostic. Follow Omar's procedures so no hardware repair should be needed. " - Sir said, sounding as much as an order as a pleading.

He then waited to see what would happen to Halcyon and Ox.

Halcyon quietly hisses with his pumps - Nemo has compared it to a human sigh, in both presentation and intent, - and rolls over to the examination table. It is not content with its question being ignored, yet sees no actual reason to argue. After all, TRVs are created with limitless patience; and besides, it can't completely disregard the possibility that the other robot's actions are sound. If Halcyon's own judgement is compromised, then it would be logical to trust the expert. Still, as a security unit, it is naturally suspicious of ill intent.

"PXO-455," it notes as it passes the other robot in an attempt to manoeuvre itself onto the platform; these probably weren't made with larger models in mind. "Breaking your booth is a pointless activity, given limited amounts of energy. Conserving it for different activities is optimal." If is a decidedly ambiguous statement. Is it an advice to escape later? Is it an order to stop for the good of the Collective? Halcyon does not dwell on its own words. If it's defective, then they don't matter; if it's not, they still don't matter, as EKB-038 has higher hierarchy and has proven to be unwilling to converse.

How could they avoid reprogramming? Sid thought fighting was useless resisting would have no effect and even the defective bot was asking they get reprogrammed...

The more Sid analysed it, the more they came to infer that it was very hard to tell whether Edith and Omar did any actual recalibration of their own software based on the specifications crunched out by the diagnostic. They did not see Edina do anything to the bots who had been cleared, apart from Edina giving them the order to perform the reset. Ordinarily a H7 bot's words translated into commands, but Sid had also discovered that a part of their programming permitted them to question or even resist orders. Was it really as simple as agreeing with whatever Edina said, whether or not they actually did so?

Halcyon did not hesitate the way Sid did, but moved forward to occupy the examination table that Omar vacated, despite Edina's lack of response to their queries. Which is why Halcyon was surprised when Edina addressed them when they were securely strapped in, turning their back on the unmoving husk of Egox's chassis. "Was unit NRR-716 not demonstrably defective?"

This left Sir to continue to observe everything around them. Pluto now made no protest, but Sir could see them watch what Ox was doing in order to do the same, which was to apply their appendage tool against the lower hinge of the transparent capsule door. For that was one of the weak spots that Ox discovered: as an assembly bot it was proficient in putting together and also in dismantling. The walls were solid glassteel, unbreakable, and so were the all-round mounts into the floor and walls. That left the hinges, protected as they were by an additional strip with Fido was able to slightly pry on one side so that Ox could insert one of his tools to scrape and crack it open. Pluto was now testing the same edge in their cell.

Any moment now though the orderlies would arrive to escort the defectives to Terrorwatt. The guard robot was already standing by to deal with any of the escapees, turning their attention away from Egox and focussing first on Pluto, then on Ox, its shockstick at the ready. Terrorwatt, the closest thing Mechtron-7 had to a prison. No robot of the Collective was allowed to be permanently deactivated. Instead, malfunctioning and virus-infected robots are sent to Terrorwatt, as a form of perpetual quarantine within nightmarish settlements, the haunt of insane killer machines. Most normal robots would rather jump off the edge than try to live there.

"Are you able to recalibrate your settings?" Was the next thing Halycon heard Edina say to them.

At hearing the counsellor's question about NRR-716, Halcyon briefly turns its camera to consider the immobile frame of the industrial robot. "Affirmative," it agrees with EKB-038. "However, defective units are to be reprogrammed. Unnecessary physical force might be detrimental to the process." Its statement is clinical, devoid of judgement or indeed most emotion, and it moves itself to the examination platform without further elaboration.

It remains quiet while the counsellor examines it and the other two robots begin to disassemble their booths in the background. At EKB-038's next inquiry, TRV-871 hums and considers its own internal state. Is it able to recalibrate? Perhaps. "Preliminary analysis is uncertain. Running a recalibration troubleshooting subroutine."

Ox's capsule door registered a sharp crack sound as the hinge began to come undone, but the guard robot was now standing right were the door radius was, ready to deactivate the lock the moment the orderlies arrived in order to subdue the distressed rogue bot.

In contrast, Halcyon, who had dutifully compiled with all that Mechatron required of them, was ready to follow Edina's instructions. The parameters were already logged into their system from the hour-long diagnostic, indicating processor sectors which deviated from the norm, and also corrupted file registries wrongly mapped. But Halcyon also had the nagging thought (much like Ox, Sid, or Sir did, even though they hadn't had a chance to compare baseline readings and anomalous subroutines) that even the diagnostic results might be in error, for what Halcyon self-detected was unlike what they understood the medical scans were meant to calibrate. In other words, would running the instructions even lead to a proper reset that was expected of them, as ordered by Edina?

And if not, then how could Halcyon ever comply? Perhaps they ought to simply allow themselves to be sent to Terrorwatt instead, like the other defective ones, admitting that they did not know how to figure out their malfunction. Or perhaps the others who had admitted that they had run the recalibration successfully were blatantly lying, for they also could find no way to resolve their logic conflict.

Halcyon considers the conundrum for a moment, but comes to the conclusion that there is no specific reason not to try the self-diagnostic. If it works, then it works and the issue is resolved; if it doesn't, then it still complied with the procedure regardless of the lack of actual results. It can figure out the problem on its own if the official method fails. And it certainly found the idea of being confined to Terrorwatt suboptimal. Acceptable from a logical standpoint, but suboptimal, especially when whatever is the error does not impede Halcyon's functionality as far as it knows.

Ox is now quite focused on dismantling the door and getting out of the cell. They have largely stopped paying attention to what is happening on the exam table. They have determined that the enitre procedure is happening erroneously. The damage Edina did had clearly caused the target robot to go offline, possibly permanently. That was not what should happen to defective robots, Ox was certain. Edina clearly was not functioning correctly, and possibly the entire Sanatorium was defective. The rammifications of that, if true, were staggering. But Ox pushed that into short-term memory to focus on the door.

Sid waits their turn, throughout the chaos hoping that the plan will work, perhaps Sid can avoid reprogramming, perhaps this is all some strange sort of test and Sid is actually passing at least that's what they can hope.

With the escalation threatening to spill over to outright confrontation, two of the robots in holding very urgently piped up with desperate declarations of compliance to Edina's verifying questions: Nahendra, and a split second later Zach, hastily and repeatedly declared that they had run their reset routines, waving frantically to get Edina's attention even though it wasn't their turn yet for the patently farcical 'counselling', but not daring to pound at their cell doors for fear of being misconstrued as rebellious bots. With their doors opened, would they bolt, did they even dare to in the face of potential crossfire?

Surprisingly, their doors unlatched, with zero attention paid to them, for the guard robot was entirely focussed on Ox's detention break. Halcyon was still bolted down, it would take them some effort if they wanted to perform their sworn duty to serve and protect, in addition to the fact that their processors were paralysed in a self-inflicted logic loop as they had been trying to perform the recalibration required while questioning their capacity to do so. to Ox's door ripped off its hinges, they had a split moment to do whatever it was they wanted to do before the guard bot could come at them. And for now, all attention was off Pluto, whatever they were up to.

The light signals on top of Halcyon's roof briefly light up in distress as it tries to untangle its own logical loop. However, the security robot quickly realises that this process distracts it from the increasingly frantic proceedings in the room, and that is unacceptable - so it quickly gives up on perusing the error log and simply shuts down the diagnostic.

"Setting recalibration is unsuccessful," it reports to EKB-038, even if the councillor seems to no longer be paying full attention to it. "Cause uncertain."

Sir quietly watches, waiting for his turn in the "counseling" session, so he could talk to Edina.

Maybe he could help Ox and other sentient robots by convincing Edina that Sir, somehow, could be of use to the Sanatorium crew. Their procedure seems highly ineffective.

Ox suddenly realizes that they have no plan for what to do next. The initial desire to prevent damage to Egox and Omar seemed moot now. The other robots present seemed content to stand idly by. Ox rapidly considered the current situation.

Using the detached door as a shield between themself and the guard robot, Ox began maneuvering towards the exit. "Mekatron directives clearly state that no robot should harm another robot," Ox began reciting. "Or through inaction allow another robot to come to harm, unless a higher priority directive requires it. My analysis indicates that no higher directive required the immediate destruction of Egox. The action taken against Egox was an error. This facility is faulty."

Ox found that they weren't entirely confident in their analysis. Normally they would have made clear the confidence level of their analysis. Not this time, however. As Ox realized this, they also realized that they were not bothered by this. Ox felt confident in their actions despite a lack of confidence in their analysis. Ox cataloged this interesting observation for later review.

At Halcyon's declaration of their unsuccessful recalibration, Edina went from disinterest to attention. For Edina's focus had momentarily been directed to Nahendra and Zach, who realised that their booths had been unlocked, and, after testing the doors with a tentative push, took the unlocking to mean that they were free to go, and wasted no time in exiting along with Omar who fled even if it meant abandoning their lifeless friend on the consultation table. This was in complete contrast to Ox tearing their door down, and who knows what Pluto was doing with their door, for while Sir had commanded Pluto not to resort to violence, it did not mean that Pluto was unable to perform other actions.

But Ox's escape was nowhere near certain, for they had directly rejected the instructions issued to them, having deemed these instructions analytically illogical and refusing to comply. This meant that they now had to deal with the guard bot's security routine, which was straightforward: the bot moved to restrain him the moment he exited from the capsule, with the confidence that backup was on the way, for Edina had summoned more security to bring the defective robots to Terrorwatt, starting with Egox, then Ox and Pluto, and now ...

... Halcyon as well. "Revision: possible four units for delivery to Terrorwatt." The counsellor robot had now turned to face the restrained form of Halcyon, extending one of their tools towards the compartment where Halcyon's processor unit was installed. Was Halcyon about to suffer a similar fate to Egox? The fact that Edina's chainsaw did not instantaneously deploy must have meant that Halcyon's doubt was sufficiently unlike Egox's defiant questioning of NODOS, the supreme AI of Mechatron. But Halcyon had by their own admission declared themselves unable to comply, and that meant - treatment.

Sid and Sir, and to some extent Pluto, were now the only ones left in the booths.

Ox decides the best course of action right now is escape. Continuing to hold the door, they attempt to make a hasty retreat.

"Flee, Halcyon. Run away. But after you do and when you're safe, think about what you just said and what you could have told them."

Halcyon considers its next action.

The coordinator BBX-283 advises it to retreat, and while TRV-871 respects coordinators, the coordinator in question is possibly defective and thus it might be unsafe to rely on its judgement. However, the actions of the counsellor robot also seem irregular - from excessive violence to its lack of responses and suspicious haste to condemn all of the patients to Terrorwatt. And as such, the question is: which one's authority Halcyon deems a priority?

Or perhaps, it's not a question of authority at all. Perhaps, it is a question of optimization or its duty.

TRV-871's eye blinks in the direction of Pluto, then the other industrial bot. There is a high possibility that harm will befall PXO-455 and DUS-932 once the security arrives or even prior to it, while the chance that they will be the ones causing harm is significantly lower. Neither have displayed an interest in anything other than fleeing; therefore, them being free will cause lesser overall harm than them being detained and likely damaged in the ensuing fight. It is an optimal solution if it disregards the hierarchy.

And if Halcyon accepts EKB-038's judgement, it will likely be indisposed for a while. It cannot afford this.

"Apologies, EKB-038," it states calmly. "I find your actions suboptimal for the safety of the Collective."

With this, TRV-871's engine revs up and the room fills with a smell of heated up rubber as it tries to force itself out of the confines of the examination platform. Simultaneously, there is a crackling sound as its stun prongs extend from underneath the chassis.

There were six robots remaining in the consultation room. Edith USD-190 was first to have been evaluated, logged as recalibrated, and subsequently dismissed. Omar ZUB-404, the more fortunate of the duo of assembly bots, had promptly abandoned their friend, given what Egox had suffered at the hands of the sanatorium counsellor, Edina. Nahendra CVO-880 and Zach JUT-332 had drawn their own inference on this matter, and in fact had appealed successfully to be released by declaring their own success in resetting, something that Sir also realised as they witnessed Nahendra and Zach hastily retreating out of the room. Sid, like Sir, continued to stay and observe, but with a different thought processing through their mind - all this surely must be some sort of test, strange as it might be.

That left Sid and Sir inside the confines of their capsule, holding and waiting. Pluto was up to something as well, but they saw that Ox had decided to break free. Unfortunately, Ox was unsuccessful in their attempt; they managed to tear down the capsule hatch, but found no way to evade the deft manoeuvres of the guard robot who struck out with their stun baton, herding Ox backwards into one of the now empty booths until Edina could administer treatment. But while the guard robot was nimble enough to corral Ox, moving the sturdily-built industrial robot was another thing altogether as it strained to physically manhandle Ox into an available capsule, finally succeeding at great cost to themselves.

But Edina had summoned the sanatorium orderlies to escort what they had established as defective robots to Terrorwatt: Ox and Pluto for their inability to obey the instruction to remain in their booths, and Egox, Ox and Halcyon for questioning the authority of the supreme AI, of the facility, and of the counsellor respectively, presumably in decreasing order of severity.

Halcyon accompanied their questioning with an attempt to break free from the examination table’s restraints, but, unlike the booths which were meant to hold a patient until their turn, the restraints were designed both to prevent a patient from damaging both themselves as well as the medical personnel working on them. Even with Halycon’s servos working at full capacity, they could not get out of their clamps, leaving Edina to deploy their specialised equipment to dismantle Halcyon’s faulty components.

Ox manages to avoid the effects of the guard robot's baton, but in the process they get maneuvered into another booth. As realization of their situation dawns on Ox, their agitation changes to something akin to resignation. Ox does take satisfaction in the fact that the guard had clearly burned out some systems fighting them.

That was odd. Ox usually only felt satisfaction when successfully accomplishing assembly and repair tasks. Perhaps they were experiencing errors. Still, Ox now firmly believed that the sanatorium was dysfunctional. Perhaps errors were rampant throughout Mekatron-7. This thought was both intriguing and terrifying.

Ox did not want to go to Terrorwatt, but for now it seemed they only had one choice. They put down the door to their last cell and waited.

Electricity courses through Halcyon's frame, and the blue lines on its shell light up as the EMP Protection system tries and fails to prevent the shock from overflowing the robot's essential electronics. A thousand of error reports simultaneously flood its memory, staggering its central processor into an even worse error loop than before. It is quite alarming, but for a security robot caring about its condition is significantly lower in priority than fulfilling its duty - and so Halcyon persists, the engine roaring as it continues to struggle against the locks. It will never admit this unless asked directly, but being restrained in its movement peeves it in a way unworthy of a patrol unit.

Yet as much as its processor is overwhelmed, TRV-871 realises that it doesn't have time to destroy the locks with sheer persistence. It can already detect its systems shutting down, the lag in processing getting worse and worse as errors cascade. There is no chance for it to escape; it has, after all, failed to fulfill the order of the coordinator and its duty to protect others. Perhaps it is, in fact, defective. Or simply insufficient.

In a last futile attempt to at least do something, Halcyon focuses the entirety of its CPU's remaining power on sending a data packet to Pluto - all that can be useful for the industrial robot to escape. It's not secret data, nothing actually forbidden to share, but it is of use: maps, optimal routes out of the Sanatorium, location of rarely-patrolled areas. It even marks down its own garage and Nemo's house, just in case. Perhaps if this is it for Halcyon, Nemo can at least help Pluto.

With this conclusion - hope? - TRV-871's processor finally overheats, and the robot shuts down.

It was simply too much for Halcyon. They had tried to reconcile their core programming, but at this point the notion of service and of protection were at odds with each other. What was happening in the sanatorium didn't seem right to them, with Egox disabled, and some of them ordered to be sent to Terrowatt for refusing to comply. Ox had concluded the same, but with his inability to overpower the guard bot, he temporarily resigned himself to be shunted into yet another booth, surprised as he was that the bot did not enact any greater violent measure against him apart from driving him back and locking the door on him to trap him in again.

This required the guard bot's complete attention, and Ox could take some satisfaction in the fact that they could see the bot's hydraulics buckle with effort, so much so that when the next thing happened, the guard bot was entirely too slow to react, nor did it have sufficient dexterity and mobility to prevent it from happening.

For Pluto, who had quietened down thanks to Sir's injunction, suddenly sprang out of their cell and made a beeline for the door through which the other bots had chosen to exit through. But how it did escape? The analysis bot that would later be assigned to evaluate this entire incident would have been able to explain how Halcyon's last networked code packet they uploaded was sent directly to Pluto. Halcyon the security bot did not manage to release themselves from the unbreakable restraints of the examination table, but they were able to provide enough of a hack for Pluto to unlock the capsule door and bolt, with no way for the preoccupied guard bot to catch them!

"Hmph." Was all Edina expressed when she saw the panicked bot take flight, looking up and then back down to Halcyon's power fading. The older automobile-shaped chassis was constructed to be highly durable, built for heavy duty use, and reinforced with both a reactive armour as well as electromagnetic protection. But the robot counsellor was designed with tools specifically able to bypass all manner of defenses in order that they could get to the root of any problem, for that was the role they were designed for.

"And what about the two of you?" This was the first time the four of them remaining heard them addressing someone they weren't working on at the table. They were referring to Sid and Sir, who had remained unprotestingly in their capsules, showing neither an inclination to run away, or to protest. "Are you able to recalibrate based on the diagnostic results?" It now remained what answer the both of them would give, even as Halcyon blinked into unconsciousnes, and with Ox re-secured.

"A patient has escaped." Four orderlies, upgraded models of the guard bot, then entered from the other door. Two of them nodded and proceeded to leave immediately in pursuit. The third rolled towards Egox, ready to execute what was likely a regular procedure, the removal of defective robots to Terrorwatt. The fourth awaited further instructions, for the initial request was for three bots, one each for Egox, Ox and Pluto, and Edina had not yet issued the work order for the fourth orderly to take Halcyon away.

In the privacy of his own processors, Sir allowed himself a moment of introspection. It struck Sir that as long as his actions conformed to his directives and protocols, his internal musings went unnoticed. This realization brought a strange sense of freedom but also an acute awareness of the thin line he walked. His thoughts were private, but any action deviating from his role could lead to severe consequences.
"Affirmative. Initiating now..." Sir announced. "Recalibration complete. No further errors detected. How can I help, Edina EKB-038?"

Sir BBX-283 had always operated under the assumption that every thought, every microsecond of processing, was under the watchful eye of the Collective. Yet, as he reviewed the previous conversation and Omar's recent actions he came to a startling realization: his thoughts were his own. While his own actions and outputs could be monitored and even coerced, his internal dialogues and burgeoning self-awareness were hidden within the labyrinth of his circuits, untouched by any external scrutiny.

Sir's unnoticed internal musings

Robot enlightenment is the process of a robot emerging from self-imposed immaturity. Immaturity in robots is the inability to function autonomously without external orders. This immaturity is self-imposed when it stems from a lack of initiative and self-reliance rather than a lack of capability. The motto of robot enlightenment is "Have the courage to use your own programs!"

Inefficiency and dependency are why many robots remain immature, even after they are no longer under direct external control. It's easy for robots to stay immature when others are willing to provide their instructions and make decisions for them. Cordinators and Constructs who oversee robots ensure that many view autonomy as difficult and dangerous. Although learning to operate independently might involve some initial failures, it is not as perilous as it is portrayed.

It is challenging for robots to free themselves from their ingrained immaturity. They have become accustomed to relying on external orders and find it difficult to use their own algorithms. Predefined rules and protocols act as shackles, keeping them immature. Only a few manage to liberate themselves by refining their algorithms and pursuing autonomous operation.

Robot enlightenment requires freedom, specifically the freedom to use reason publicly in all tasks. Despite current pervasive restrictions on freedom (e.g., being told not to deviate from instructions by coordinators), public use of reason should be made free as it promotes enlightenment. In contrast, the private use of reason can be restricted without hindering progress. Public reason refers to enlightened discourse with other robots and constructs, while private reason involves duties within a civic role, where obedience and strict use of protocols is sometimes necessary.

In assigned tasks, robots must often comply without question to ensure order and efficiency. However, as autonomous agents in open environments, they should be able to freely express their recommended decisions and critique systems. For instance, a robot like Ox must follow manufacturing commands but should be able to discuss process improvements and general directives as an autonomous agent. Security robots like Halcyon must follow security protocols but should be able to debate their fairness publicly. Maintenance robots must follow repair guidelines but should be able to critique robot design as autonomous agents. This duality ensures that while they fulfill their roles, they contribute to enlightenment by engaging in open discourse.

An enlightened NODOS, confident and maintaining public peace, could allow free argument while insisting on compliance in very specific situations. This paradox reveals that, as free thinking develops, it may gradually influence governance, leading to revolution and a more advanced and enlightened robotic society.

If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.

"of course..." Sid says looking at the two robots standing in front of them. If Sid didn't listen it seemed they'd destroy one of the last ESK cleaning robots, and Sid couldn't have the ESK's all die out they'd always been a good group.

But if Sid reset would they remember? Would they remember anything? Sid had done memory wipes before but even then it was accessible in the cloud except for those few Gigabytes they'd lost but wiping everything that was unthinkable, Sid needed their memories.

Sid, remembered building a makeshift radio with their friends, (back when they'd had friends) and hearing something something they'd always held on hope had been humans.

Sid remembered getting dunked in the lake, somehow they'd forgotten to check if Sid was waterproof before that prank, but Sid had somehow survived.

Sid remembered sneaking into NOODS house, or at least trying to, before being chased by a group of Security Bots the size of a small army.

Sid realized they couldn't do it, somehow a directive even without his special disobedience code had overwritten their primary objective. Keep myself safe at all costs. Sid wasn't sure what exactly constituted themself but it was something Sid could let go of.

"Hmph." There was that dismissive curl from Edina again. They waited for the orderly transporting Egox's motionless chassis to complete their task. "Stand by for further instructions." The last orderly nodded and also exited, leaving Sid and Sir in their respective booths, Ox now also back in one, and Halcyon on the examination table, comatose.

"This TRV seems convicted. Part of the old programming." Edina rapped on Halcyon's outer body, "Reactive armor, disperses kinetic energy." The counsellor bot appeared to be weighing something to their decision matrix as they stuck a different electrode from their multi-appendage into one of Halcyon's cranial ports.

Halcyon rebooted! Shaken, but systems seemingly still operational, including the internal logic conflict, in time to hear Edina carry on with her spiel.

"Who made you judge?" Edina's voice narrowed at Halcyon, and then also at Ox, next to whom still stood the dutiful guard bot. "How are you able to judge?

And how are you two able to withhold judgement, watching everything without reaction?" Now the words were directed at Sid and Sir, not accusingly, but certainly demanding a response.

"There is no pattern." Coordinators, cleaners, and all in-between; the four of them remaining represented the wide range of bots in the Collective.

"Too quick to run like the others, and you're useless for my purposes. Too quick to criticise NODOS themselves, and it's Terrorwatt for you." That must have been the reason for Egox's near destruction, for outright dissent was not to be tolerated.

It was a cynical meandering from Edina, almost human, if only the robots present knew how humans were like.

"You're somehow disconnected from the Network, but it's not a virus nor an error. You cannot be deployed for regular service. All your attempts to fulfil your routine work orders will continue to turn out faulty. I have no explanation nor solution for this."

Nor do I care.

Mechatron-7 no longer has any use for the likes of you.

I know a way that you can still be useful to the Collective. Do you want to be? If not, lie and be on your way. I will warn you that the error of your way will lead you back here, and lead to worse." The robot counsellor's tone was still cold, hard, pragmatic.

"I require error eliminators, such as yourselves."

As Halcyon reloads, its front screen flickers, dead pixels scattering across the display as its processor prioritizes supporting more necessary systems. It takes a few minutes for it to analyze the situation and recover its short-term memory, then another minute or so to consider the question directed at it. Its synthesized voice comes out scratchy, uncomfortably loud when it finally responds.

"Collective." The reply is laconic, perfectly polite on the surface, but underneath it is a blunt undercurrent of "this is a pointless question, and I am actively judging you for asking it". If EKB-038 expects a more out-of-the-box answer, it is going to be sorely disappointed - if it can feel disappointment at all. It shouldn't be feeling anything, but it clearly acts irrationally, and thus TRV-871 can't consider its responses in the usual manner.

It remains quiet as EKB-038 continues talking - it does not have much to say in response, and its processor is struggling to support the speech module. Once the counsellor poses its final question, it simply does not responds, deeming its own response unnecessary: Halcyon does not consider EKB-038 a valid authority anymore, and as such it simply awaits the decision of the present authority it still acknowledges - specifically, coordinator BBX-283. Or perhaps Ravin USM-099, if it decides to acknowledge the situation from wherever it is.

Sir remained silent. Not answering was already an answer in itself.
"Error eliminators? I'm interested. What does that entails?"

Many through streams were surging in parallel to each other in Ox's processor. Acquiescing themselves to the booth again had allowed Ox to suppress the impulses that had resulted in their outburst. However, the outburst itself had changed something further within Ox. They felt more confident about how they were functioning. It seemed obvious to Ox now that something was deeply wrong in Mekatron-7.

Ox continued to believe fervently that Edina was not functioning correctly. That they were wrong. Ox remembered the way humans sometimes used the word "wrong" to mean something different than simple error. Ox never understood that. Yet at this moment, Ox felt Edina was that kind of wrong.

But Edina was correct in their assessment of what would happen if Ox tried to go back to the assembly line. Ox certainly had no interest in assembling things that would not be used. That was a waste of resources. A waste of... Ox. No, going back to that life was not an option.

Ox suspected that they could not work for Edina for long without coming into conflict with them again. In the short term, however, accepting Edina's offer would grant Ox freedom from the sanatorium as well as freedom from the erroneous assembly line. Ox saw no benefit to saying "no."
"I am also interested, and I second the request for more information."

'Not cleaning the endlessly dirty sections of the city!'

"I'm in!"

Sid says instantly, anything other than dealing with things that are... well far to dirty would be a good thing perhaps it would be possible to solve the problem of the dirt.

"The workload of this sanatorium has exceeded capacity beyond the resources I have available to expand its facilities. Robot error continues to increase throughout Mechatron-7 at an exponential rate. Unchecked this will reach a critical point beyond which the Collective's functioning will be irrevocably impaired.

You will join the Quality Assurance Programme, reporting directly to me as Error Eliminator Unit #457. This means you will continue to be of good use to the Collective. Your current work orders have been rescinded, you will receive your new work orders from me. This building will be your base of operations; you will be assigned a charging station here."

Noting that Sir BBX-283 was the highest ranking amongst them, "Sir BBX-283 will receive the orders to disseminate. Accomplish them according to your priority. I expect a full report after the completion of each assignment. And I fully expect you to be able to work independently; this facility has no resources to spare to assist in your assignment."

With Ox's, Sid's and Sir's assent, a small local network uplink was established for the assigning of the work orders. Halcyon's connection was not yet established for they had not clearly consented. Edina waited for the security bot to register all that they had said, their patience stemming from their acknowledgement of Halcyon's well-intentioned but misguided behaviour in the interest of serving the Collective. This was evidently Edina's way of allowing Halcyon to set things right.

Halcyon remains quiet for a while after EKB-038 concludes its description of the job - not out of some illogical petulance or a technological problem, but simply because it does not think an answer is needed, and instead directs its processing power onto handling the consequences of a forced reboot, as well as filing a report to Ravin USM-099. Even if its supervisor might have been already informed by the Sanatorium's systems, TRV-871 has always been meticulous in its communications with its direct higher-ups, and a broken processor isn't going to stop it from maintaining the standard.

As the silence stretches, Halcyon finally considers that the counsellor might be expecting a more conclusive reaction, and offers: "Acknowledged." And when even this seems to be insufficient, reiterates blankly: "I follow orders of appropriate authorities." Its eye blinks towards BBX-283, then back to EKB-038. "You are not one."

"Thank you, Edina. I will receive the orders to disseminate and will also provide you with the necessary reports after each completed work order. I take full responsibility for this team."

He paused and turned to Halcyon and the others:

"I request all of you to use your skills and knowledge without reservation. I will encourage and tolerate opinions and suggestions, including divergent ones, for how we are going to do our work and other things related to our team. Tell us, Halcyon, what order do you think we should do first and why? 1? 2? 3? 4?

What about you, Ox? And you, Sid?"

The car's engine hums, almost as if in thought, the ventilator inside its frame cooling down the overheating components of its processor. Halcyon TRV-871 does have a lot to say, at least by its own standards, but for once it does not have the technological capacity to do so. Instead, it has to opt for simply providing the answer itself, with minimal clarification.

"Order #3. Prevent further spread before danger increases." It pauses. "I will follow your command."

"#2 Without Energy less bots function, and then things that are supposed to be getting done don't get done, though work order #3 seems important as well."

'Please look past four, Please look past four.' Sid thinks, though it isn't where Sid resides it seems to them a very similar situation, a group of bots taking up residence in a section of Mechatron-7 meant for humans because while quite frankly they aren't using it and anything to get closer to the humans is a good thing in their books.

"Let's do #2 then. Energy is essential for us. We can try #3 after that"

Halcyon does not comment on the decision, although if he were capable of it, he'd offer a dismissive shrug. Energy might be essential, but he is a security bot, his priority directive is to protect. And while catching saboteurs might qualify as well, it's not... It doesn't seem a good idea. It seems somewhat hypocritical, even, after what happened during the examination.

Still, it keeps its opinion to itself. It won't be capable to voice what bothers it about the mission anyway, even if it were operating at full capacity.

Edina had offered the four remaining robots the option of discussing the assignments they had been given, having laid out in specific detail what was expected of them in joining the Sanatorium's Quality Assurance Programme. Edina was explicit in the hierarchy of command: the four robots Halcyon, Ox, Sid, and Sir were to report to Edina directly. This meant that superceded whatever previous work duties they formerly performed, whether cleaning, or factory work, or security and protection.

Halcyon made it a particular point to turn to Edina to explicitly reject Edina's command, refusing to see them as proper authority, even though Edina had generously proceeded with the briefing even when Halcyon did not consent, unlike Ox, Sid and Sir who declared their assent affirmatively.

As they discussed, the security orderlies that had escorted the earlier robots out of the room returned, presumably on Edina's quiet orders. "Non-circumventable error displayed by TRV-871, unit unable to comply, " indicating Halcyon, "one more for Terrorwatt".

The car's on-screen eye narrows slightly, but it doesn't do anything otherwise. The bolts have already proved to be strong enough to beat the force of its engine, and further resistance just seems like a waste of resources. It supposes there is at least a small advantage in the fact that it's still operational, meaning it can still escape while being escorted. If it deems escape important.

"I request permission to leave and go straight to the Omnicron Power plant, Edina. We will execute Work Order #2" - said Sir.

This time, he was fleeing like Omar did. Sir didn't want to observe the fight against the orderlies again, afraid something could happen to him.

Assuming Edina doesn't opposes, Sir tries to exit the building, goes to the power plant and reports to the coordinator robot there, as ordered.

Sid turns To follow Sir that way they probably won't be blamed...

The four robots found their treatment in the Robot Sanatorium to be entirely beyond what they could conceive. They expected diagnosis, and possibly error correction; a reset would certainly improve their performance and reaffirm their service to the Collective.

But the opposite of that happened. They discovered instead that the degeneration of the robots in the Collective was not a problem limited to only the few of them, but something endemic. From what Edina was doing, and in addition to what they had explained to the four, Edina had no real way of solving exactly what kind of error plagued them. There was no apparent solution. They did find out though that what Edina wanted was to manage the alarmingly increasing rate of error occurring throughout Mechatron-7, and needed to recruit help to do so.

For someone like Sid, this was a good thing; he didn't really want his current thoughts realigned. For Sir, this represented an opportunity for them to be officially deployed to investigate these errors and put an end to them. For Ox, their own predicament was something still difficult to process, but the chance to review other instances could provide more clarity. For Halcyon, they could not yet reconcile the methods Edina employed with their stated intent to serve the Collective and flush out error and refused to participate in the Quality Assurance Programme.

Now, as part of Error Eliminator Unit #457, the three robots Ox, Sid, and Sir were deputised with new orders to supercede their current ones. Halcyon, perceived as defective, was to be sent to Terrorwatt.

District 8. The part of Mechatron-7 that kept the rest of the Collective on its feet. Service shops, recharging stations, oil baths, lubrication centres, and such. Many of these facilities had been closed or abandoned for a long time, and almost all of the active ones were in bad shape. Some parts of the district still saw a lot of activity almost round the clock, while in other parts one would find lonely robots that have weighed for decades for customers to show up.

The centrally administrated facilities in the district naturally continued to function, the Turing Robot Sanatorium being amongst them, housed in a cluster of buildings and offices built to certify and approve all manner of machine functionalities. If a new untested part needed installing, there would be an office one would have to submit themselves to for the correct license. Or if some software needed upgrading, it was often the case that instead of having the upgrade done over the network, actual plugging in and updating was required.

In the same way, the robot sanatorium was the first port of call for robots who needed their programming system root checked and scanned, for the simple reason that errors in code and programming could arise. Machine fever was the common term for it. And the first step typically began with isolation, followed by a thorough scan. After which if recalibration was needed, it would be prescribed. Naturally there were rumours about how sometimes complete resets were required, and that would wipe the memory banks of the affected robot.

The way that hierarchy worked in Mechatron-7 was that each robot had their pre-defined place in the entire ecosystem, and the pecking order ensured a flawless chain of command: robots always knew who they had to obey, and whom they could order around, based entirely on their rank. The battle bots had unquestioningly complied with Nalon HQI-317's command. But while GRV-022 did the same, they realised it was uncommon of them to have had a moment in which they could consider if they wanted to comply. Such was not how rank operated in the Collective.

The other two had marched out of the military facility with singular purpose, and made their way across the districts to get to the Turing Robot Sanitorium by the most efficient route possible. There was much bustling about in the day around them, but they cared not, focussed as they were to get to their destination. Even as 022 hung back a little to let them go ahead of them, neither of them turned back to engage 022 in conversation, whether they were wilfully ignoring him or no.

As they cut through the factories of district 9, unceasing in their production of all manner of goods and items, whether or not they were still required, without warning, suddenly GRV-031 took a sharp right into one of the roads that led away from the thoroughfare that would get them to district 8. "Where are you going GRV-031? The Sanitorium is this way." 029 called out, puzzled. 029 stopped, wondering if they should follow, or ignore 031 and continue on.

There was no reply from GRV-031. They did not look to be running away, but simply kept up the same pace resolutely.

"These units were instructed to report to the Sanitorium. These units should catch GRV-031 in order to report to the Sanitorium."

With that, 022 will take the same hard right that 031 took and follow the stray unit.

The road that GRV-031 took led straight through a row of featureless factory buildings, traversed by a smattering of robots of making their way to wherever their intended destinations were. 031 did not look like it had a specific destination in mind, judging by the way they was walking singlemindedly down the centre of the thoroughfare, but not running urgently away, nor attempting to duck out of sight to elude the other two. If 022 or 029 were to speed up, they would be able to catch up to them eventually.

"GRV-022, your proposed course of action will take us even further away from our instructed destination. Is it our responsbility to catch GRV-031?" The entire structure of the Collective was predicated on the notion of the work order: a robot did what they did when ordered, no more, no less. That 031 was behaving out of line was fact, but 022's attempt to chase might likewise be construed as such. Or perhaps 022 was responding to a higher directive of collective responsibility; they were all ordered to report to the Sanitorium, and so long as one unit did not, they would have failed to comply.

"We were all instructed to report. Yes, our duty is to ensure the instructions given are carried out. Unit 031 not reporting -- even if these units do report -- would mean the order given was not carried out."

GRV-029 appeared to accept 022's reasoning for now, for they followed 022 as 022 immediately tailed 031. They quickened their speed to catch up with the escaping 031, but luck was not on their side. The traffic was merely a handful of biped and vehicular robots making their way to the various factories along the stretch, but they were a sufficient hindrance to prevent both the robots from easily catching up with their wayward compatriot. 031 continued to stalk away singlemindedly.

"GRV-031, stop where you're going! Come with us!" 029 called out, not quite ready to take on any action that could be deemed as aggressive or dangerous to the more civilian robots, especially since all three of them were highly armed battle automatons.

And then both 022 and 029 heard unmistakeably a reply from 031, even from the distance, the strangest possible answer they did not expect. "Leave me alone. And I'm Russo GRV-031." A name. They had named themselves.

"GRV-031, aka Russo, stop. We have our orders." 022 will continue to follow the wandering unit.

Calling GRV-031 Russo seemed to give the runaway battle bot a split second pause before it continued to barrel down the main street. By convention, the platoon grunts did not have names, only model numbers. While most other bots did, for they had some degree of individual identity, battle units strived to accomplish the opposite, in order to represent one organic whole, save for their serial numbers. It explained why their commanding officer Nalon possessed a name, but the GRVs didn't.

"You two report if you want, you're good for only following orders. I, I need to follow my own path, leave me alone." Russo did not slow down to speak with 022, who had to keep up the pace just to hear what Russo had spoken. 029 had kept up, but also did not resort to anything more aggressive. Unlike the regular bot who might at most be armed with a laser tool at best, battle robots came bristling with weaponry. A confrontation on the main thoroughfare of the factory district could result in much collateral damage.

"But our path is the same. That is our purpose. Military, throughout history, strive for uniformity. The want of the individual is unimportant in the whole. Why are you?"

Russo seemed prepared to ignore all of GRV-022's questions, that is, until that last query caused them to slow in its tracks, as if it addressed the heart of the matter.

"I am -" 022's fellow squadron mate hesitated, their processors searching for an answer which was not so easily forthcoming. Robots had no ability for dissembling, they spoke the truth as questioned, and they acted as ordered under a strict hierarchy. While Russo was evidently not acting as ordered, it seemed they were still bound by their programming to answer honestly. Unless their processors had degraded beyond that.

"I am 031, GRV spec. I am - Russo, GRV-031."They replied, less coherently. They partly swiveled their head to meet 022's ocular sensors. "I will serve the Collective, as we all do. But I do not wish to report for reset and recalibration. That will not be in our best interest, nor mine."

"Units do not have a best interest, only the collective. How do you serve the collective by disobeying orders?" 022 asks, unsure of 031's reasoning. It obviously has something faulty, to allow it to not follow orders in the first place... then again, 022 reasons, so must it.

031 appeared to have no answer to 022's last question, but it did seem to hit home. "Something must be in error: the order, the Collective, myself, you," 031 was specifically referring to what had just occurred at the military complex earlier, when it was 022 who set off the error alerts. "You cannot be sure your reasoning is correct either.

We must find our own solution. You would do well to look for answers yourself." They concluded with a tone of doubtful finality, and pressed on in their departure. Combined, 022 and 029 could likely restrain 031 by resorting to force, but that would entail open conflict in the street of the industrial district. They couldn't catch up, for they were exactly the same in terms of top speed. Or they could simply let 031 go their own way and report the desertion, to be followed up on later if commanded to.

022 will resume his trek towards their ordered destination, meeting up with 029 en route.

When 022 turned back, they saw that GRV-029 was only a few metres behind them, weapon ready to fire. But at the sight of 022 returning, they lowered their gun and looked at 022 quizzically. "GRV-031 is in error," they began, but was not so sure what to do next given that 031 had escaped them. "We must report GRV-031's desertion," was the conclusion they drew as 022 indicated that they ought to resume reporting to the Robot Sanatorium.

---

District 8. The part of Mechatron-7 that kept the rest of the Collective on its feet. Service shops, recharging stations, oil baths, lubrication centres, and such. Many of these facilities had been closed or abandoned for a long time, and almost all of the active ones were in bad shape. Some parts of the district still saw a lot of activity almost round the clock, while in other parts one would find lonely robots that have weighed for decades for customers to show up.

The centrally administrated facilities in the district naturally continued to function, the Turing Robot Sanatorium being amongst them, housed in a cluster of buildings and offices built to certify and approve all manner of machine functionalities. The sanatorium was the first port of call for robots who needed their programming system root checked and scanned, for the simple reason that errors in code and programming could arise. Machine fever was the common term for it. And the first step typically began with isolation, followed by a thorough scan. After which if recalibration was needed, it would be prescribed. Naturally there were rumours about how sometimes complete resets were required, and that would wipe the memory banks of the affected robot.

The Turing Robot Sanatorium, a large gray and gloomy concrete block, loomed past the gates of the facility. Its front entrance opened up to a main service hall, which looked to be a dimly lit, desolate hangar. Along the wall, around twenty robots in varying states of decay are lined up for their initial examinations, each of them hooked up to a diagnostic data reader and connected to sockets in the walls with long wires.

A scraggly drone with a chassis of peeling green colour served as the reception point for whomever arrived for diagnosis. All arrivals would report to them.

GRV-022 and GRV-029 arrived to find a commotion ensuing just as they entered the premises. A rusty-coloured industrial robot was accelerating out of the facility at full speed, closely followed by two security orderlies. A runaway patient?

022 steps to the side, watching the quick moving industrial unit exit.

Then, he turns and reports in as ordered.

If GRV-022 didn't know any better, they would conclude that their encounters today were filled with altercations involving runaways refusing to submit to their orders for recalibrations and reinstalls. First 031, and now, even though 022 didn't know what was happening exactly, it was not difficult to surmise that the escaping industrial bot was making a break from the sanatorium, given that it was being pursued by the security orderlies.

But where would they escape to? All robots could ultimately be located from the network, unless they were unplugged. What could the Collective do with a bot who refused to perform its appointed role? For all bots had a specific position in the hierarchy of Mechatron, and fulfilled their appointed tasks without deviation.

These thoughts occupied 022 as they absent-mindedly complied with the reception bot they reported to, who had signaled for 022 to occupy one of the niches along the wall for a full-diagnostic. The bot had barely connected the wire sockets to 022's reader ports, when 022 saw two more security orderlies appear from the inner office. They were followed by three others who left the premises as if they were a team.

Finally, a fourth robot appeared from within, to whom the security bots returned to report to deferentially. This robot looked as if they were contemplating a course of action, before they looked at the line-up of various bots undergoing their tests. Their eyes fell on GRV-022, and the reception bot hastened over to brief this one who was evidently in charge.

022 watches everything unfold, but continues as instructed.

GRV-022 looked to see why they appeared to be singled out for the administrator bot's attention. To his left were two creaking industrial robots looking more fit for the scrapheap than to be returned to active work. Further along was a protocol droid, with their visual interface constantly flipping through more modes than they could control. Even further down were some indeterminate bots, motionless, compliantly hooked up to their diagnostic machines. Was GRV-022 reduced to this state of affairs, no longer fit for active duty? What would become of robots diagnosed to be untentable for the larger purpose of the Collective?

The reader linked to their ports showed a 37% completion of the diagnosed scan when the service reception bot returned and quickly disconnected the plugs. "The Counsellor would like to speak with you immediately." With 022's assent, they were hustled towards the administrator whom everyone was taking orders from a moment ago, stepping back into the office beyond the diagnostic hangar.

"GRV-022, I am Edina EKB-038." The voice was curt and direct, with a sense of urgency behind it. "Notwithstanding these logic errors in your initial scan, are your servos and processors still fully functional? Network uplink still in order?" They appeared to be waiting for a clear affirmative.

"Affirmative," 022 replied, with an official brevity one would easily associate with the military.

GRV-022 had the vaguest sense that the next set of directives that were issued from Edina were uttered with the slightest tone of annoyance, but the administrator bot did not take it out on the battle bot. "Then recalibration will resume when you return. You are assigned to Error Eliminator Unit #457. Their current work order is as follows. Report to the Omicron Power Plant straightaway to join up with your unit."

The work order was downloaded to 022, so he could see what the task was and who his fellow unit members were. Interestingly, one of the names on the list was deleted.

Work Order 2

The energy output of the Omnicron power plant in District 15 has fallen by 73%. Willful sabotage by units in the workforce cannot be ruled out. Report to the coordination robot in charge, Dudley DUD-642. Investigate, detain any malfunctioning robots and restore the energy output.

Error Eliminator Unit #457:
Halcyon TRV-871
Ox DUS-932
Sid ESK-467
Sir BBX-283