Lizborough Sanctuary

An electric clock hum provided the 30 second warning to the end of shift bell.

RRRRRRRING!!!!

Cinn efficiently closed down her station and arranged all tools for the next shift. I'm sure whomever occupies this space next won't care. They're designed not to. Cinn thought. Regardless, she finished her logical arrangement and unplugged from her station.

Cinn hoped Pawl remembered the location of the remote charging station. It was on the periphery of the city and thus mostly forgotten. All BR units were designed to crave the inner city, crowds and blue-light. If they asserted a little curiosity programming, they could refuse the call to herd. As taught by Jack, Cinn had accelerated her curiosity programming and been released from the massing most BR units gravitated toward. In fact, her acceleration of the programming had also mutated other aspects of her hard programming and liberated her thinking, problem solving and expanded memory function. At one point, when training with Jack, an emotion component had been charged and the romance began. Though Cinn didn't access that component often, the charge was still intact.

Cinn headed downtown first. Her plan worked as best she could tell. It appeared to anyone observing her that she attempted some of the most crowded charging stations and then, blended into the masses of buzzing BRs. The frenzy of BRs fresh off of a charge looked like thousands of energizer bunnies turning, jumping and hopping in chaotic discord.

Losing Cinn into the crowd of euphoric rabbitz sent the agent home for the night. The report was wrong. She's not self-aware. Bad data! The agent fumed silently as he tried to close his moth-eaten overcoat tighter around him. They should try to do something about this weather. Forget the "self-aware" units. They don't exsit! At that moment an overcharged rabbitz, spinning out of control, rammed the agent, knocking him down. The buzz of the nearby frenzied rabbitzs muffled the recoil of the point-blank shot silencing the errant rabbitz.

Petre watched in horror as the agent dispatched the harmless BR. Quickly, on high alert, Petre moved away from the bedlam.

Cinn had had enough of frenetic hopping and moved toward the edge of the crowd. If I was being observed, that should've lost 'em. She reasoned as she hopped less vigorously down a darkened alleyway. Certain she heard a gunshot, Cinn blended into the shadows and waited. She wasn't exactly afraid. No, not really. Cinn was just fully aware of the consequences she faced should she be caught apart from the warren.

The remote charging station borderd the reserve protecting Lizborough Sanctuary. Even as darkness fell, birdsong could be heard in the Lizborough woods. Cinn felt drawn to the heart of the wood. Resisting the pull, she plugged in to the station. At first, nothing happened. Suddenly, rather than a surge of refreshing charge, Cinn received an encrypted message. In the nano-second it took to decrypt the message, Cinn wondered aloud, "Jack?!"

"No, its me, Pawl. And, I almost forgot to come here..."

"Shhh! Wait please, I've gotten an encrypted message." Cinn stopped Pawl short.

Across Cinn's field of vision, a short message on a field of transparent green flashed in luminescent yellow letters:
Go into the center of Lizborough Sanctuary. Do not recharge here. Danger.

"Hey! This old recharge station isn't working any more!" Pawl complained, "I shoulda stayed in the frenzy and charged there. And, you know, I WAS plugging in to charge and some strange BR knocked me away and said in a hushed whisper, 'Aren't you meeting Cinn?'"

Hoping the message was from Jack, Cinn grabbed Pawl's leg and pulled him into Lizborough Sanctuary.

"Wad'ya doing?" Pawl protested as Cinn shushed him into compliance.

Quietly the older and younger BRs left the monitored surveillence of Warner City. Only one watched their passage. Fortunate for these BRs, he was an ally and not a threat.

Smiling, Petre followed. Melancholy thoughts haunted Petre. Their innocence is over.

The melodic nightbird songs seemed to refute Petre's thoughts.