Monitor listened in sleep mode as Cook lumbered off. The clock struck six.

The smaller robot woke from its corner station, its gears whirring to life. It unlocked its treads and drove across the room, ticking, to the bed.

“Time to wake, sir,” Monitor announced in its tinny voice.

No response.

“Sir?”

It picked a course of action from its clockwork differential. It cranked its core higher to see over the bed.

“Please wake, sir.”

The Admiral laid completely still, his face grey and bloated, streaked with blue. He had been this way for days.

“Sir?”

Monitor searched its differential again. It had nothing for such a situation. Monitor reached out with a clawed hand and tugged on the Admiral’s sleeve, trying to shake him awake. The robot wheeled backwards and the old man’s body fell from the bed with a wet thud, spilling tea and scattering biscuits across the room.

Monitor’s differential contained nothing for such a situation. Its gears slowed and changed rhythm, the ticking heavy like sobs.

“Sir?”