Nov. 12th, 2012

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Machines whir. Servo arms and waldoes extend, trim, pull and twist. Lasers flash.
"Julie? How's he looking?"
"Internals are a mess, but more's salvageable than we estimated. Still, I'm projecting a 30% rebuild. Minimum."
"If he survives I'm gonna kill him."
"Careful we're near the core."
Phil leans back, tugs at his ponytail, "It's technology a hundred years ahead of out time. And it was built a hundred years ago. In secret. By one man. In what was probably his garage."
"And if it breaks?" asks Julie, tabbing through reading and charts on the monitor.
"Best case scenario: Robo dies. Worst case: Robo dies, we die, and a chunk of New England becomes a radioactive wasteland."
"Yeah. If he survives I am going to kill him."

"Come in."
"Have we heard from Bolden yet?"
"Well, I think the more important question is... WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!"
"Do you know what my job is here?"
"I make sure your experimental power source no one really understands doesn't kill millions of people! I sign paperwork saying your heart doesn't violate some very important international laws! And I'm the one that goes to War Criminal jail if you do something reckless and stupid and start leaking radiation! Do you know how close you were to melting down?"
"Shut up, no you don't! Neither do I! Because your temp gauge melted!"
"All right, okay!"
"He gets it, okay?"
"Sorry, I know. It's just--"
"Just what? Just that I spent twenty-eight hours putting humpty dumpty back together again--"
"--Because he's so damn dumb he fell four hundred kilometers and damn near got himself killed!"


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