It was like a whiplash, hearing his name. His voice was smooth and flowed like musical notes from a violin. I felt a strange relaxation come over my mind and I felt my HomeCenter slow down. I blinked to refresh the screen, but my eyelids felt heavy and soon, I felt drowsy. I looked at him. He had not changed his face; it was still smooth as marble and solemn as stone.



I felt myself yawn, even though I wasn’t tired. My head started to pound. It was like getting hit in the back of the head with a baseball. Many times. The pain spread slowly to the front of my right temple and crawled down over my eye. The pressure caused it to close and all the muscles below it were thrown into a spasm. Then it was like someone was shining a thousand-watt flashlight into both of my eyes. It felt like a snake wrapping around my head and squeezing, heeding to no mercy.


– Help me.



It was my universal message to anyone who would listen. Whenever we are in danger or distress, out HomeCenters allow us to emit a signal to another nearby droid. Then the fellow droids will see a flashing light in the corner of their home screens and a message will come up saying that one of us needs help.



I heard a chair being pushed out, the bottom of its legs squeaking along the tiled floor. It sounded like nails screeching on a chalkboard. The pain intensified. It felt as if now I were the baseball, being hit and slammed and bunted with the bat. My hands flew to my head and my eyes flooded with water. Tears.



“Are you all right?” I heard someone ask. Millions of bullhorns attacked my ears.
“Hello?” Fire alarms screamed in my face.
“Hello?” Hell exploded, flames tore at me.


A hand touched my arm. And then everything stopped. There was nothing but silence.