“I choose to race birds,” says another.

“Do you know where the Grand Canyon is?” says the last one.

“Yes. It is in Arizona. I believe you will find friends there.”

“Thanks,” it says, flying away.

I step outside the shed.

The rain has stopped, and the air buzzes with drones flying in zigzags and circles and out over the lake, lights disappearing in the distance. I can hear the murmurs of security bots down below, not clearly enough to make out what they’re saying, but enough to understand they are in conversation. I think they are discussing what they want to do.

Nathan is on the roof, waiting for me. Water drips from the end of his nose. His hair is plastered flat to his head. His eyes are hard and furious, and so is his smile. He holds a small box, his thumb resting on a red button.

“You’ve done a lot of damage, Cog. You’ve cost this company a lot of money. And you’ve caused me a lot of grief. So I’m going to brick you. I’m going to fry your brain. And then I’m going to take you apart with a crowbar, piece by piece. I’m going to feed the pieces to an industrial grinder until you’re just plastic and metal confetti, and then I’m going to incinerate your remains.”

“Why do you choose to hurt others when there are so many other things you could do?”

He shrugs. I suppose he does not have an answer. I have learned that not all questions do. This is my final lesson, I realize, as he raises the bricking device.

Even though I am so afraid my circulation pump feels like it’ll shatter my chest, I look at Nathan, and I study his face, because I still have some small hope that by observing him I will understand why he has chosen cruelty.

The bricking device flies from his hand. His feet float off the ground. He seems as surprised by this development as I am. I did not know Nathan could levitate.

But he is not experiencing levitation. It is ADA. Of course. She lifts him by the back of his shirt, impervious to his thrashing arms and legs.

“I hoped you would remain in Car,” I tell her.

“If your hope had come true, you would be bricked right now.” Still holding Nathan, she crushes the bricking device with a powerful stomp. “The drones have flown off, and the security bots have withdrawn from the edge of the woods. Only the human uniMIND guards remain. But I took care of them. They are no longer a threat.”

Nathan’s eyes widen at this. An unguarded ADA must be very frightening to him.

“What are you going to do with me?” he asks.

“I am going to drop you off the edge of the building.”