The middle was where it was too easy to be lazy and cynical at the same time.

A sixth sense warned her that she was striking a Faustian bargain. Odd, since she wasn’t sure what a Faustian bargain was. But it was something not to be taken lightly. She knew that.

We have to destroy the radioactive brain of Madame Curie.

I emitted an ultrasonic signal. The beast climbed off her and scampered to my side. “Good girl, Snarg.” I patted her between the antennae, and she squeaked. Zala stood. “By the hidden moon, what is that?” “My pet ultrapede.” “I wouldn’t expect you to have a pet.” “Snarg was a gift of the ambassador of the Undersphere. She’s the fiercest ultrapede ever bred for the royal family. How could I turn down a gift like that?

I stand corrected. Yours is a far superior arbitrary system of governance.

All coincidences are Odd. That’s what makes them coincidences.

A bot had to find his own way, and I’d figured out that functioning for function’s sake was pointless.” – Mack Megaton.

Damn, some days I wished I’d been made a toaster.

Most magic wasn’t even magic. It just was.

Self-preservation was a basic directive, but there wasn’t a robot functioning that prioritized it at the top of the list. Like biologicals all robots were seeking a purpose. Autos and drones were lucky enough to have that built into them. A bot had to find his own way and I’d figured out that functioning for function’s sake was pointless. The real question was finding a directive worth getting scrapped for.