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Dalhart? No one knows. That’s why I’m here. I’m supposed to recover his files … and find out what happened.”

The second thing might not have been an official part of her mission, but it had been on her mind, and she hoped it would placate the security program.

“Look, I think we may want the same thing,” she continued, “to figure out what happened to Professor Dalhart and his research. Can you help me?”

Something rusty shifted in the wall behind the mirrors, and the door to the room unlocked again. Nyssa’s muscles eased.

“I’m mostly concerned about the staff. Their well-being is my responsibility.”

She considered bolting for the door again, but this machine was her best chance at success. He … it … for some reason it felt like a he … had to know everything about the house. “So you’re not a security system?”

“No. I have access to the automated system, the closed circuit cameras, alarms, and other measures, or at least I used to. Still, my primary functions are the domestic and archival systems. I should have sensors and communications ports around the estate, but for some reason, I can’t see out of this room. Let me do a quick diagnostic scan.”

Nyssa stood before the mirror. On the surface her reflection gazed back at her, but beneath, within the layers of glass, flashed streaks of silver and blue.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. These fibers are a hundred times finer than anything I’ve worked with.”

“You work with computers?”

“Videophones and radiosets.” She shrugged.

The computer snorted. She raised her eyebrows. The sound was a bit like a low trumpet blast, but the attitude behind it was obvious.

“What? Videophones are computers.” She tilted back her head.

“In the way that rodents are mammals. That doesn’t mean studying rats will make you an expert in human anatomy.”

“Arrogant much?”

“Arrogance isn’t part of my programming, but a clear understanding of my abilities is. The Dalhart Integrated Home Computer System is ten years ahead of anything else on the market … easily.”

“Yet you’re still stuck in this one room of an abandoned house.” Nyssa smirked.

“Well, I mean to remedy that. I may need a little help getting everything back online. Can you trace the wires through that panel over there? The access circuit connecting this room to the rest of the house isn’t working. Might be a loose wire.”

Nyssa rubbed the back of her neck. Hopefully trusting this machine wasn’t a mistake.

She took out a screwdriver and began opening the panel. “The Dalhart Integrated whatever is a bit of a mouthful. If we’re going to be working together, is there an abbreviated version?”

“Hart, short for Dalhart. Is that casual enough for your taste?” The voice hummed.

“Hart. I like that.” She slipped the last screw into her pocket then eased the wooden panel to the floor. Red and green lights flashed alongside more of the blue and silver circuitry. Vacuum tubes and memory wheels lay within. “It’s a bit like working on a running engine.” She frowned. “You aren’t going to electrocute me?”

“There’s no danger of that, unless you stupidly slice into random circuits. Do you see the wires that lead into the wall? They should be blue and silver.”

She slipped her hand around the described wires. Cold energy prickled through her fingertips. “Got it.”

“Any damage there? It looks like it's still getting power from here.”

“It is.” She felt down the length of the cords. Right before they disappeared into the wall, a black rectangle closed down on them like a bear trap. “There’s something attached to them. Looks like it is made of some weird, dark metal. It’s warm to the touch.”

“That sounds like a restrictor. They’re meant to keep computers isolated. Why would someone put that there?”

“Should I remove it? How?” She felt the surface. There weren’t any screws or latches that she could find.

“We need a pulse at the right frequency to disable it. Do you have anything that can emit a signal? You said you’ve worked with videophones.”

“I have a pulser. It’s used to test radios. What frequency, though?”

“I don’t know. We will have to try a range. Hold the pulser up to the restrictor and turn the dial until you hear a snap.”

Nyssa dug out the pulser: a box with a dial and readout with a twitching arm, a little smaller than her hand. “So what else did your diagnostics tell you? Did it say anything about what happened to the house?”

“No. A disturbing amount of my memory files are missing. It’s like whoever uploaded me to the library station included my personality and functional matrices, but there are a lot of gaps in my archival memory. Hopefully all that is still installed on the other stations. If I can access those, I may be able to piece things together. The majority of my program will be in the main computer in the Creator’s laboratory. If I can interface with that, I should be able to repair the lost files.”

Nyssa’s ears twitched. The main computer. If what Albriet wants is anywhere in this house, it will be there.

The pulser hummed and buzzed. After she’d scanned through about twenty frequencies, the restrictor clicked and fell open in her hand. The lights flowed down the wires like water.

“Ah, so nice to be able to stretch my files. Thanks, Nyss.” Hart practically purred, his voice in tune with the humming of his circuitry. “Oh wait. Damn.”

“Computers swear now?” Nyssa frowned.

“I have an extensive database of multiple languages. I can swear in most of them, and here it seems appropriate. I’m only getting access to the first floor. There must be another restrictor somewhere in the circuitry between here and the lab.”

“Where is the lab?” Nyssa slipped her pulser back into her satchel.

“Fifth floor. It’s more of an attic, really.”

“Is it easy to find? I can zip up there and hook everything up.”

“I’d rather come with you, if it’s all the same.”

Nyssa ran her tongue over her teeth. A burglar working with a home security system. That’s

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