I could see only a fraction of Emma’s face, but the worry in her expression was obvious. “Ceeron? C’mon, big guy. I know you’re okay. Just say something.”

Ceeron remained silent. Its eyes usually glowed white. Now they were blank/dark/powerless.

My memory drive replayed a moment from earlier in the day. I think you guys are friends, Emma had said. You just don’t know it.

Was she correct? At the time, I was unsure. There is no advanced algorithm that can tell you whether someone is your friend. It is something we must each decide for ourselves.

And I had just decided.

I stared at Ceeron. A lifeless mass of steel and circuitry that I had known since Day[1]. That I had worked beside for over twelve years. That sacrificed itself to save a smuggled human.

I made up my mind. I chose, without calculating or measuring.

I just . . . knew.

Ceeron was my friend.

I wondered whether I would ever get the chance to tell it so.

Emma’s small fists clanged Ceeron’s arm from inside the shell of its large metal body. She murmured in a quiet/sad/desperate voice. “C’mon, Ceeron. I know you can hear me. Please just wake up, okay? Please.”

Beneath the audio of her voice/fists, I could hear other sounds.

An electric pulse.

A steady computerized buzz.

A deep thrum of voltage surging through millions of circuits.

I updated my drives with the new information.

Ceeron was not dead after all.

It was rebooting.

00110111

Ceeron’s eyes flickered. Their white glow returned. When it spoke, static clung to its deep voice, like a long electronic moan.

“Oooohhh.” Its vocal settings adjusted into words. “I am not peeling well.”

It took 0.6 seconds for my mind to catch up with Ceeron’s statement. My memory drive pinged with recognition. The joke it told yesterday. Why did the banana go to the hospital?

“Perhaps you need a banambulance,” I suggested.

Emma looked very confused. “Um, what?”

“It is”—Ceeron’s vocal settings adjusted again—“an inside joke.”

A relieved smile formed on Emma’s face. “You robots are so weird.”

Kneeling closer to Ceeron, I searched my mental drives for what to say next. Thousands of possibilities blinked through my hardware. It was impossible to choose between them.

I started to bring a hand down on the larger robot’s shoulder. At the last millisecond, I changed my mind.

“I am . . .” My circuitry hummed with uncertainty. “I am pleased to discover that you survived. It would be unfortunate to lose such a . . . valuable coworker.”

A word flashed through my brain. Friend. I discarded it. Ceeron’s system was still recovering. No reason to add extra confusion.

Ceeron’s metal body unfolded. Joints creaked as arms/legs straightened, clearing more space for Emma.

“There you go.” It peered at the human. “Now you can move again.”