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<entry_22>
0039 hours, Wednesday, February 14, 1973.
I cannot move or see anything of my surroundings. It seems that unit 0395 was less willing to forget that I beheaded him last month than he appeared; he struck me with his bat after shoving the Scout ahead of me into what I can only assume is a holding cell. It broke through my stupor, but it also caused my working eye to come out of its socket. It is for the moment useless. My inability to move is doubtless due to an inhibitor similar to the one Herr Gray had used on E-001 in the past. All the better; there isn't much reason for me to do anything anyways.
There is no point lying any further in this journal. I took the cloned brain and left E-001 intact in the surgery along with Herr Medic. The mercenaries will have certainly found them both and turned him back on by now; I reconnected the wires I had pulled from his processor before I left so they would be able to. At the time, it seemed that it would have been the best solution for everyone. I would go back to where I belonged. Herr Engineer would still be with his friends and with a fully functional body all to himself. Herr Gray would have a processor identical to the one he desired so greatly. He could make an E-002, one that would not have known any other life besides the days he had spent strapped to Herr Medic's gurney. Everyone could be where they were supposed to be.
I am the stupidest, most worthless creature in existence. What else would have thought it a good idea to lie to its creator? What else would have thought that it knew better or that it had a plan to circumvent the ire of the one who gave them life? The only thing I have achieved is to enrage both him and the only-- the other humans against me. I am done trying to be more than myself.
What will happen now, I cannot say. Influencing the actions of my betters is something I have no interest in now. Perhaps the mercenaries will manage to free the Scout. It is only my fault that he is in this situation; hopefully he will not suffer further for my error. Spy may have contacted the Administrator, in which case she might be able to get them out of this wretched siege.
Herr Gray has not had me destroyed yet, but he probably will unless he decides to do further research on why we robots develop in the way that we do. Perhaps he'll find a way to stop it from happening anymore. I can't say that I care much.
This may be my last entry. Goodbye.
</entry_22>
0039 hours, Wednesday, February 14, 1973.
I cannot move or see anything of my surroundings. It seems that unit 0395 was less willing to forget that I beheaded him last month than he appeared; he struck me with his bat after shoving the Scout ahead of me into what I can only assume is a holding cell. It broke through my stupor, but it also caused my working eye to come out of its socket. It is for the moment useless. My inability to move is doubtless due to an inhibitor similar to the one Herr Gray had used on E-001 in the past. All the better; there isn't much reason for me to do anything anyways.
There is no point lying any further in this journal. I took the cloned brain and left E-001 intact in the surgery along with Herr Medic. The mercenaries will have certainly found them both and turned him back on by now; I reconnected the wires I had pulled from his processor before I left so they would be able to. At the time, it seemed that it would have been the best solution for everyone. I would go back to where I belonged. Herr Engineer would still be with his friends and with a fully functional body all to himself. Herr Gray would have a processor identical to the one he desired so greatly. He could make an E-002, one that would not have known any other life besides the days he had spent strapped to Herr Medic's gurney. Everyone could be where they were supposed to be.
I am the stupidest, most worthless creature in existence. What else would have thought it a good idea to lie to its creator? What else would have thought that it knew better or that it had a plan to circumvent the ire of the one who gave them life? The only thing I have achieved is to enrage both him and the only-- the other humans against me. I am done trying to be more than myself.
What will happen now, I cannot say. Influencing the actions of my betters is something I have no interest in now. Perhaps the mercenaries will manage to free the Scout. It is only my fault that he is in this situation; hopefully he will not suffer further for my error. Spy may have contacted the Administrator, in which case she might be able to get them out of this wretched siege.
Herr Gray has not had me destroyed yet, but he probably will unless he decides to do further research on why we robots develop in the way that we do. Perhaps he'll find a way to stop it from happening anymore. I can't say that I care much.
This may be my last entry. Goodbye.
</entry_22>
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I got to say, I really commend you for 0031's motives and beliefs. It would be much less real for him to turn his back on his creator and not have that flaw to defer to the one who made him. Poor robot medic.