“What do you mean you can’t find it?”
Peter just couldn’t understand it. How could it be that a scoutbot, programmed only to search and report, lie and disappear?
He rested his face in his hand. “How is this possible?” he wondered aloud.
825 cannot be found. Its signal cannot be located, the Mainframe replied coldly.
“I gathered that much,” Peter snapped. “What are the last coordinates you have of 825?”
Searching…
Civil Warehouse, 17th Street and Center Avenue.
“Any other information?”
825 recieved outside audio at last coordinates before the signal was lost.
“Play it back.”
It was the shouts of that little girl and another woman.
A slow, scheming smirk spread across Peter’s face.
“Keep searching for 825’s signal. If you find it, shut it down.”
Yes sir.
“In the meantime, I’m off to find a small girl. We can’t risk any information leaking. Not until it’s time.”