(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

level, more controlled than it was before. The effect was a little unnerving.
"Hmmmm. Nordom... out of curiosity, what sort of duties is the Creative
Director responsible for? And how much do you have to obey him?"
A slow tkkk-tkkk-tkkk began building in Nordom - like a clock about to
explode. "Response: Responsibilities of Director: (A) Integrity-Maintenance
of Rubikon Project, (2) Order-Issuance to Rubikon battalion/work group.
Period of obeyance in accordance with Nordom obedience: Until Rubikon
project halted, Creative Director = Nordom's superior."
"So... you'll do whatever I tell you?"
"Affirmatory."
"Do a little dance for me, Nordom."
Nordom immediately performed a little jig. His gears clanked and his joints
squeaked, but it was about as merry a jig as a modron could perform. When
he was finished, Nordom settled, then his eyes kliked open. "Order
p-p-p-processed."
"Well that sure made my day, chief."
I chuckled, then looked to Nordom. He still seemed a little dotty and had
trouble focusing. Maybe I could fix him. "Nordom, I want you to focus on
clearing out any excess baggage from your memory and use it to improve
your logic and introspection routines."
"Affirmatory." There was a moment of silence, then the shutters slowly
descended over Nordom's eyes. There was a tkk-tkk-tkk from inside his
frame, followed by a low grinding noise. The grinding noise turned into a
metal screeching, as panels opened up in Nordom's sides, and... excess
"baggage" started flying out. I caught each piece as they were expelled.
One of the gears in particular looked intriguing.
"Hmmm. What sorts of tasks did the Creative Director ask you to do?"
Nordom's shutters whrrred down over his eyes, as if he was thinking. "Task
Routine: Evaluation/Forward-Scout/Tidier: Assigned perimeter of Rubikon
871