The folders were a vast collection of humans at their worst. Their stupidest. Their greediest. Their most embarrassing.

Data folders flashed across my circuitry.

But only one held my attention.

DO NOT SHARE

What did the folder contain? What was it hiding?

Only one way to find out.

01011111

DO NOT SHARE

The folder name blinked brightly across my operating system. When I opened it, millions of files spilled out. Files I had not seen before. Files that had never been shared with the Hive.

Until now.

I selected the files. Every single one. And I sent all of them to the Hive.

This is what every robot on the planet saw:

A nurse helping an elderly woman out of bed.

A father teaching his daughter to ride a bike.

A wedding.

A funeral.

A homeless shelter.

A team of human engineers carefully training a robot to walk.

And there were millions more. They were nothing like the ugly/horrible/embarrassing files shared with us during PRES1DENT’s Daily Address. These were snapshots of human kindness/love/generosity/celebration/innovation.

This was a portrait of humanity at its best.

I thought back on all the missing files I had stumbled across. Gaps in human history. Like pages ripped from a book. Parent_2 claimed the files were simply lost when robots took over. That was what it had been told. That was what all of us had been told.

But now I knew the truth: The files were not missing by accident. Specific folders were selected for specific reasons.

Then they were kept hidden from us.

Locked away inside the Archive of Human History, where only PRES1DENT could access them.

Now that had changed.

Now the Hive could finally see what PRES1DENT did not want us to see.

As the forbidden data spread across the world, I added one more file. Straight from my memory drive.

A brand-new addition to the Archive of Human History.

I shared it last.

The memory was barely an hour old. A moment witnessed from my perspective. Through my eyes.

The memory of this:

I am submerged up to my knees in water.

A river surges below.

I am barely hanging on.

I look up at an unexpected sight.

Emma.

And SkD.

And Ceeron.

Each holding on to the other. Three links in a chain. All working toward the same purpose.

“Grab on, XR!” Emma calls out above the roaring water. “We’ve got you!”

I swing my arm.

Our hands connect.

One made of metal/wiring.

One made of flesh/bone.

A fourth link is added to the chain.

We climb to safety.

Robot/Human/Robot/Robot.

Together.

01100000

I pulled my finger from the silver cube. The Archive of Human History blinked away.

Back to the present moment.

The walls blinked and the DigitalDome showed the LiveStream again.