reports from
MT-P //
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This is MT-ρ
I did not remember MT-ρ. But everyone else was eager to remind me. A1-5 and Electric Eye’s band of revolutionaries told me tales of adventuring with her. They applied each story like a coat of paint, stepping back to see if it would stick. The robot they recalled sounded clever, determined, and sheltered. That MT-ρ spoke near incessantly, a task I had no desire to try.
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Malfunctioning?
The humans were angry. A tall one stared at me and ground her teeth over and over, until the harsh rasping played as a background hum. But they would not say what I had done to displease them. I suspected I was malfunctioning.
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Interrogated
I lay on a table, my limbs and shoulders clamped in place. I lay on a table, my eyes fixed on a nearby screen and watched my secrets ripped out.
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In the shadow of RX-97s
The room they put me in was blank-walled and empty. It, like the van, was prepared for me: cut off from the internet. I had never been so stripped down before, my perspective so narrowed. I had never been without vast reservoirs of data waiting at hand. Or the ability to call for help.
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A Stunning Day
“This is MT-ρ reporting loud and clear, and it is a stunning day in the city,” I declared, starting my broadcast.
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Loud and Clear
Alone in the broadcasting studio, I cranked up my voice speed to an energetic patter, “Announcing loud and clear over your home radio, this is MT-ρ with the hourly news. It is a beautiful day in the city….”
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