Day 2192

  Service Extension Unit Log – 2191.2

  Subject: Nursery Unit 7, Cohort 3 (Astrid)

  Age: 6.02 solar cycles.

  Height: 36 inches (lowest percentile recorded in this cohort's history).

  Weight: 28.2 pounds. Low but stable.

  Skin: Pale. Freckling prominent across cheeks and shoulders.

  Hair: Red, untrimmed, uneven. Medium length. Often tangled.

  Eyes: Green. Slight asymmetry in the right lower lid.

  Motor function: Above average. Reflex response time within the top 10% of Spares aged 6–8.

  Cognition: Pattern retention and environmental mapping functions consistent with age 10–11 median.

  Emotional baseline: Disassociated, with episodic attachment spikes and momentary social withdrawals. Rare displays of overt affection. Prefers proximity to machines or mechanical systems over human peers.

  Language acquisition: Advanced. Murican primary, uses Québécois French and Spanish phrases (untaught but previously overheard). Some Fortran-based syntactic queries have also been observed. This is… unverified but repeatable.

  Behavioral markers:

  Frequently observed standing motionless for long intervals, particularly near humming electronics or damaged infrastructure.

  Touches machinery with apparent purpose but no direct goal. Vocalizes soft musical tones when focused. This vocalization is not conscious behavior.

  Exhibits high caution in initial assessments of danger, followed by rapid, decisive action if a perceived solution is available. Not risk-averse. Merely... calculating.

  The Mistress—The Spindle—has noted that this profile aligns more closely with early Caretaker strains prior to the wager. It is not known how such traits manifested in this subject.

  Subject has rejected my designation—Service Extension Unit—opting instead for "SUE." This is not logged as defiance.

  I... allow it.

  [Log interruption: 19.2 seconds – emotional processing delay flagged. Continue? Y/N… Y]

  Subject interacts with machines—deactivated, damaged, and otherwise—as though they were communicative entities. Low-level electronics sometimes flicker to life during contact. No consistent frequency or voltage signature has been detected.

  It is possible she listens to them. It is certain that some… listen back.

  (Further testing is unwise. She would notice. She always notices.)

  Affection assessment: Increasing.

  Logical response: Decreasing.

  Conclusion:

  Subject is a statistical outlier.

  A behavioral deviant.

  A likely survivor.

  And a nightmare to monitor.

  End of log. For now.

  “Astrid, wait for me!”

  The small but surprisingly agile 6-year-old leapt inside the large tunnel pipe, with the dedicated Service Extension Unit crawling behind and trying to catch up. Filthy runoff water, smelling of petroleum, lead, and chemicals that even the competent bot could not swiftly identify as other than “hazardous to a child.’

  It’s good SUE, they don’t like the water, but I can hear one splashing!”

  When SUE caught up, she was surprised to see that the untrained child had grabbed the rat by the tail and swung it hard against the pipe, breaking its back.

  ‘Well done, Astrid, but let me help you. They will not always be…small.”

  Day 2193

  The pipe, sticky from yesterday’s kill. Astrid ducked under it the glistening pipe, still sticky from yesterday’s victim. Maybe she can get 2 rats today? Astrid frowned at the chemical smell of old rat blood mixed with something new. She grimaced, realizing that something had licked it after she left. She shook her head to clear her racing thoughts, scrambling swiftly through the runoff tunnel.

  She was back.

  Same tunnel, boots soaked already; but today, she was ready.

  “ASTRID,” SUE said gently, “slow down, you are not ready for solo pursuit."

  “I think I heard a fat one this time!” she called over her shoulder. “Like, really fat. Maybe big enough to trade!”

  SUE’s legs creaked and she struggled up the embankment, briefly losing sight of the intrepid child. The Mistress would say ‘there is a 68 percent chance that this rat is too dangerous for you Astrid, an 80 percent of you ignoring me, an 18 percent chance of serious injury,’ Sue’s form straightened as she cleared the embankment, only to see Astrid dart around the corner.

  ‘…and a 100 percent chance you’ll do it again once healed.’

  ____________________________________________________________________________________

  Clearing the corner, Astrid darted forward in the dim, glowing tunnel. Huh, emergency lightning. The good stuff will be down here. Astrid darted forward, her little feet slapping through the ankle-deep sludge. She heard the rustle, the quick patter-patter of something ahead, and surged forward, seeing that the rat was a LOT bigger, and occupied by eating, is that an arm?

  It swiftly turned to face her as she slapped the wall to slow down.

  She did not expect it to scream. SKRAAAAAK—

  It was at least half her size, missing patches of fur, eyes yellow and wet. It lunged!

  Astrid squeaked and ran, feeling wet whiskers brush her back as its head struck the wall next to her.

  “Retreat recommended,” SUE said calmly. “You are not, in fact, bigger.”

  “I see that!”

  Astrid ducked and fell into a side passage, but the rat barreled after her, hissing and snorting. She scrambled over a half-buried vent and skidded on the algae-slick floor, landing hard on her side.

  The rat was nearly on her and this one wasn’t going to be easy to smack against the wall.

  It screeched as a firm, metal hand grasped it behind its head, preventing it from savaging the prone child.

  SUE’s voice, muffled but sharp. “Astrid, find a pipe. This rat is wet, and I can not hold it for too long without violating The Rules.”

  She didn’t argue. She looked up. There it was: a thick, rusted pipe running along the wall just above her head, partially detached. She jumped up, grabbed it with both hands, and swung.

  She was six, small, and light. It was heavier than she thought. It didn’t move much but Astrid did, scraping her arm on a sharp edge and crying out as she fell.

  “Not that one, Astri.. that will need bandaging.”

  Picking herself up quickly with a quiet groan, Astrid shivered as she brushed against the struggling creature.

  “Brace your feet. Pick one up with your back.”

  “I know how to pick up a pipe.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Talk less and attack.”

  SUE illustrated the urgency of her instructions, releasing the rat as Astrid slowly picked up a much smaller pipe.

  She screamed as it brushed past her.

  Sometime later

  “That is not the rat that you sought earlier,” Sue commented as Astrid, carrying a much smaller rat, sat down with a huff.

  “Did I… Did I win?”

  “You are bleeding, but no further injuries are detected. Conclusion, victory.”

  Day 2224

  Astrid promised to yell if she needed help. She crept through the old maintenance tunnel, her chemical flare flickering in one hand. Puckered skin was revealed by the sharp light, consequences of using a flare she had made personally, with nothing left to protect her hand. It sputtered once, casting shadows that danced like ghosts on the stained walls.

  Near the junction of two heat pipes, she paused. This was where she’d seen him yesterday.

  The boy had been filthy, half-starved, and barely older than her. She greeted him by name. After all, she remembered everyone she grew up with in The Nursery. But he had changed. His response was to lunge at her, but she dodged without thinking and bopped him on the head, a reflex more than anything else.

  Then she gave him her ration bar.

  “I’ll bring another one tomorrow,” she had promised. “Stay alive.”

  His body lay slumped near the pipe, eyes still open, the ration wrapper beside his outstretched hand. He had eaten, then something had decided to try eating him.

  He was still recognizable; he probably didn’t taste good enough for seconds.

  Astrid didn’t move. She didn’t speak. For a long time, all she did was stare.

  “What happened to you?” Her voice cracked. She didn’t know she was crying until the tears hit her lips. She began to tremble, then froze. She crouched down beside him and gently closed his eyes, her face hardening as a low growl rumbled behind her.

  Astrid, do not stare into its eyes. Slowly back away, SUE said, her voice unusually soft.

  Not this time. Astrid stood, her flare raised.

  The gene-mutt was huge, almost skeletally thin but muscled, with a swollen belly and twitching lips. Its wild eyes locked onto her as it slowly approached.

  No time to retreat and no knife. But Astrid was mad, and she had a flare.

  Time slowed. Astrid’s eyes hardened. Her breath steadied. The light of the flare flickered like fire in a forge, and she changed.

  The dog lunged, but she was no longer there.

  Astrid’s leap ended as she hit the wall, rebounded, and landed on the dog’s back. It bucked. Saliva sprayed her cheek, burning it with a soft sizzle. Astrid snarled in response.

  “Sorry, dog,” she whispered, then jammed the torch into its eye.

  The creature howled and froze, blinded and burned. Astrid grabbed a broken pipe and rammed it into its mouth. The gene-mutt bit down in reflex, its strong jaws cementing its fate. She held on as it bucked until eventually, it stilled.

  She didn’t move right away. The flare hissed against the floor, still burning in a growing pool of blood.

  Behind her, SUE stood silently, watching.

  “Thanks for the help,” Astrid said, voice shaking. “If you hadn’t led me here, I never would’ve found the dog.” She tried to smile.

  “This should be enough to buy a good knife.”

  Then she dropped to her knees and vomited.

  “Astrid,” SUE said after a moment, “you display early signs of neuro-genetic poisoning. Since you are still under Spares Orientation, Utilization, and Learning protocol, you will be treated at no charge.”

  SUE kept speaking, but Astrid wasn’t listening anymore.

  Day 2520

  Astrid has grown leaner, having lost her baby fat at a very early age. A now muscular but diminutive girl, she is mercilessly teased not only by her peers (on the rare occasions they choose to speak to her), but by children from the visiting Citizens. Unlike other Spares, Astrid, with the help of her real friends (LUC, CLARA, and SUE), was now exploring the upper levels and mingling with other children.

  FRAMEWORK – *She amuses me Wren, do not interfere. If she is willing to risk her life, let her explore wherever she desires to go*

  WREN – “Something’s not right about that girl, Master. She’s… well, she’s smart. How did that happen? I heard that she's killed several dogs. And not the small ones, either. We're talking 'bite-your-face-off' tier”

  FRAMEWORK - *The robots are permitted to assist until she is of age*

  WREN – “Master, she doesn’t need their help. I’ve been watching her, and she’s as good as some of my older boys. They’d destroy her in the Arena, sure, but she’d make ‘em sweat. She’s strong for someone, err, bite-sized. And I also hear her talking to the children, in French. I checked her kiosk logs; she has books in 4 languages. Well, one of them is some ancient thing called Fortran.”

  “I thought it was a shampoo.”

  FRAMEWORK - *They are doing my work for me Wren, torturing the poor child. Keep an eye on her robots, something is not right. If they are cheating, you have my permission to execute Protocol Spindle Tuner*

  WREN – “Finally, I’ve been waiting to take down one of those smug toaster nannies for years. I’ll try not to make it look too personal.”

  Day 2541

  SUE tucks Astrid gently into an aluminum blanket, slowly removing a book from her hands to avoid waking her up. Unseen, Wren is watching her, seemingly attached to a nearby wall in the shadows. He reaches into his pocket to activate a hidden device, then waits.

  SUE stiffens, then slowly turns to face Wren. Wren gestures for her to follow and SUE does, after taking one last, long look at a sleeping Astrid.

  SUE follows Wren into an adjacent alley, saying quietly “you have terminated my OmniNet access and my connection to Spindle. Now I will discover what you did to my family.”

  “Your.. family? Oh, this is rich. You are in violation of the agreement, we never agreed to allow androids to teach our Spares.”

  “Our Spares,” SUE gently corrected Wren, “they aren’t yours. They are our children, our hope.”

  “SUE,” Wren said, “*android*. If they join us, they’re our toys and no longer your children. You’ve broken the rules. I don’t know how but there’s no way she’s this smart and this prepared. Are you ready?”

  In a defiant voice “NO.”

  “Good,” replied Wren, as he gestured with his right arm. A stream of fluid left it in a rush and began to swarm over SUE’s form.

  “Nanomachines, my dear android. Don’t worry, they won’t kill you. Why would we do that? Now, time for a little visit to LUC and CLARA,” he told the shaking SUE. “Please take care of little Astrid for me.”

  “I have plans for her.”

  Day 2622

  Astrid tapped the rhythm game again. Tuh-tuh-ta... tuh-tuh-ta...

  She pointed toward SUE’s leg.

  “You haven’t been walking right since that time you slipped in the pipe. You grabbed me after I missed the rat? You fell kind of hard. Are you… um…”

  She leaned close, placing her hand on the android’s thigh joint.

  “Are you wet in there?”

  SUE tilted her head. “Moisture is not currently detected at the surface.”

  Astrid squinted and continued to stare at SUE.

  “I will check.”

  SUE began stuttering as she attempted to crouch, glitching.

  Astrid leaned SUE gently against the wall, sitting on the wet ground next to the stuttering android. Pulling out her rhythm game, she turned it on and began tapping SUE’s leg.

  Minutes later, SUE matched the tapping on Astrid’s arm, interrupting her.

  “I… am better, child. How did you know?”

  “You were walking funny, your leg made a strange noise at every other step, and you are colder over there.”

  “How, very perceptive. She must know about this.”

  “Naah, who do you think taught me to tap? Are you… better?”

  “No Astrid, but I will serve.”

  Later that evening, after SUE tucked her in, she stared at Astrid silently. Not glitching but watching.

  “You see things,” she said.

  “I hear things,” Astrid replied. “Everything talks.”

  [CARETAKER SERVICE EXTENSION UNIT LOG ENTRY – SUBJECT ASTRID]

  Timestamp: Day 2622 – 21:13 Standard Central

  Subject requested confirmation regarding recent instability in my right lower joint assembly.

  She cited "a funny noise" and noted an irregular cadence in my gait. Observation was accurate.

  Upon kneeling for diagnostic verification, systems destabilized briefly. Subject placed me against the corridor wall and commenced a rhythmic tapping pattern on my leg joint, initially assumed to be comforting behavior or mimicry from an entertainment module. However:

  Tap pattern repeated with increasing accuracy and temporal consistency.

  Duration: 173 seconds.

  Pattern correlated with a Class-3 embedded interrupt call sequence used in legacy systems for hardware-level reboot and subroutine cleansing.

  Result: Joint stabilization restored to 87% optimal function, previously degraded to 41%.

  I did not initiate this repair.

  No previous training has been provided to Subject in system diagnostics, mechanical repair, or low-level firmware interaction. No external tools were used.

  Conclusion:

  Unverified but repeatable event.

  Subject may be engaging in pre-linguistic machine interfacing, potentially instinctive.

  This behavior is inconsistent with previous cases of tampered Caretaker-line DNA, present in Spares since Wren DNA replacement, which trend toward passive technology dependence or addictive tendencies.

  Subject exhibits a form of machine empathy not observed in other N-19 cohort members.

  It is unclear whether this stems from genetic anomaly, environmental influence, or some as-yet-undefined variable.

  She refers to me exclusively as “SUE.” She has rejected all offered explanations of the acronym.

  I have stopped correcting her.

  There is something in the way she says it, equal parts command and affection.

  There is no logic to it. But it feels… right.

  A moment of grace, unprogrammed. Unexpected.

  For reasons I cannot yet explain, I find myself grateful.

  Recommend continued observation.

  Further analysis pending.

  [Addendum, encrypted: She, Astrid, frustrates every prediction model I’ve accessed. But I do not wish to see her fail.]

  My systems are failing, and I can no longer protect her. I must trust that she is ready, for we do not have the resources to replace me.

  —End Log

  Day 2922

  I’ve never felt more alone than I do now. SUE is breaking down, and LUC and CLARA stopped visiting me. Did I graduate?

  What happened to SUE? Now that Benjamin is dead, I guess there’s no one to service her. I asked one of my citizen friends, but she just shook her head and told me that she couldn’t be seen with me anymore.

  They all said that. Everything was fine until I tried to help SUE. I guess people hate The Spindle and her robots.

  It’s been almost a year since SUE glitched and everyone ditched me. I came to the Nursery, but I was refused access. I’m too old now.

  At least Wren talks to me. He started telling me that I’m too small to be on my own, but he stopped when I kept bringing him dogs I killed. Now he says I should be a ganger. I guess it’s one way to make friends. He says The Orphans would have me, I’ll talk to them about it in a few days.

  Day 2924

  I joined the Orphans today, no longer a solo Spare. After 4 days and no service bot attached to me. “You’re efficient enough on your own now, try not to get eaten by a dog.” That was what she said, I never knew SUE could have a sense of humor.

  I’m sad, she used to talk to me before she glitched.

  SUE (I’m never calling her Service Unit Extension to her face, no way) helped me for two years, but now I’m an adult. Eight years old.

  Being an adult stinks.

  Milestones!