Fix that other part you didn't get around to

Hug over and done with, you really do need to get some work done. It'd be terrible if that other damage PR073-C70R had incurred on themselves - somehow - interfered with your life later. Just awful. Truly terrible if it had some sort of horrible consequences that would make you regret having made that decision, desperately wishing you had the ability to go back and 'replay' that part of your life. You'd probably blame yourself for the rest of your days if this lead to someone's untimely - purely the speculative thoughts of your anxiety speaking, of course - **** of your crush. You shiver at the thought. Boy, really glad you remembered.

Gosh, what sort of world would it be if oversight like that happened regularly. Except... it sort of did, way back before the apocalypse. At least if oral retelling can be considered as trustworthy accounts of the past.

You vaguely remember stories of ancient man. Like the Chernoboiling incident. Acid spilling out in great, invisible waves washing over unsuspecting victims. Most likely where the acid wolves came from, if you had to guess. Or when the fatmen and tiny boi gangs employed the villain, named Atom, to ruin two entire Chapped Knees hideouts all on his own. Nobody thought things could go wrong if left ignored. But, boy, did it.

Ancient man thought they'd have enough fuel to last them till eternity - and again - they were proved wrong. Someone stuck on a wall unknowingly threw some wrong numbers at their livestock and caused a collapse. Nobody were watching what was actually happening. Only looking at graphs and statistics. Not seeing the actual effect it had on daily life. You wonder if they had robots during the Oil Wars. Wait...

Breaking free of your track-less train of thought, you ask, "Robbington, what do you run on?"

Emulating surprise, PR073-C70R replies, "The ground. Preferably."

"Ugh," rolling your eyes, you specify, "What keeps your lights on. How do you remain functional. I've been over every inch of you and I don't see any slot for... any sort of power supply."

"I run off LOVE and POSITIVE THINKING."

"You're shitting me. No way."

"Would USER SHIVA rather this UNIT say 'I don't know.' Would that bring you comfort?"

Shrugging, your conversation is interrupted when your father knocks for your attention. Over the years, you swear a slight dent can be seen on the suspended engine. It creates - almost - an illusion of this retrofitted warehouse turned workshop containing actual rooms. If you stood on top of your dad and he stood on top of PR073-C70R and all three of you stepped on an exact copy of all three of you, the top would still be outside your reach.

Huh, thinking about it, you could always add more length to PR073-C70R's legs. They're already taller than anyone in the village and It'd loose that human frame completely. PR073-C70R would hate that. You add it to the list of possible modifications to do later.

You turn your head, throwing your still loose hair in a cool way, and say "One of these days you'll be knocking on that thing and - WHOM!!! - explosions everywhere." You say, conveying an enormous fireball with your body language.

Smiling, he says, "I doubt it. Damned thing haven't even had the decency to turn on for me."

Dad always had a weird affection for it. Once bordering on obsession, according to your mum who retells her ultimatum with such pettiness. Would it be nice to have the father of your children home? Sure. No doubt. Would it also be amazing to have a gargantuan engine - even if its purpose is unknown - thundering, spitting pillars of black smoke, churning away at what few precious resource remains? Yes. No doubt it would be amazing. If she had left dad alone and just done her job raising the two of you, the village would have had a cool engine doing... things.

That happens you a lot these days. Wanting something but not knowing or being able to argue why.

"Time to head home. You got Sir Robbington? I'll lock the place down and catch you by the door. Unless..." he says, confusing your intense staring for obsession as you stare the engine up and down, lost in thought, "You want to stay here and see if you can figure this thing out?"

"I- Uh..." lost for words, the tiny voice in your head screams, for the love of god, back-pedal! Evacuate!

Before you can answer, PR073-C70R interjects, "She'd love to Eigel. Unfortunately, USER SHIVA already has an appointment."

"I do?"

"Yes. I believe you set me to remind you at RETRIEVAL ERROR. Calculating via my pre-reminder notice you are VERY, VERY late."

You stare at your father. You stare at PR073-C70R. What time is it even? PR073-C70R stares at you.

"UPDATE. USER SHIVA is now: VERY, VERY, VERY, VERY--"

Grabbing your jacket, you rush past your fathers laughter and out the door.