[May] Prompt 4: Powering Up - Black Haired Girl

Powering up.
Booting back logs.
Gyroscope activated.
Memory booting … 80 percent. 90 percent. Complete.

223 opened his eyes. It had been a while since he had and his motors were nearly shot, so it took a bit longer than usual. Soon his lids lifted and his internal sensors activated.

Scanning.

Odd. The world seemed to have turned onto its side. No, wait. Gravity readings indicated that the Earth’s gravity still existed. The poles were registering from their proper coordinates. No, it wasn’t the world that had tilted. He sent a signal to his extremities. In less than a millisecond his 2333 MHZ brain processed the entirety of his situation. He had fallen over and was now lying on the floor in the workshop.

Scanning. Adjusting parameters.

Which way was “up”? Ah, there it was. Carefully he directed his arms to push himself from the floor, only to find that his right arm had been disconnected from his body. That made getting up a little more difficult, but somehow he managed. His internal weight distributors sluggishly kicked in, allowing him proper balance. Soon he was upright.

From this vantage he could take in the entire workshop. It was dusty and dark, much more run down than his memory recalled. The creator’s desks were in disarray. In fact it was not only just a mess, it looked as if there had been a tectonic disturbance at some point. He searched his subconscious security readings and pinpointed the exact time that his balance had been thrown off.

After a quick analysis he could his hypothesis to be true. There had been an earthquake of an 8.6 magnitude nearly two miles away from here. That explained his sudden fall and the disorder of the room. If his readings were correct the earthquake had occurred only five minutes before he had activated. The fall must have tripped him out of sleep mode.

Carefully he turned to look at the other prototypes lining the walls. Faceless and incomplete, they all were upright and appeared undamaged. He tilted his head down and scanned the floor.

Books, papers, and broken glass littered the floor at his feet. A large pile of books shifted as he scanned it.

Approach.

It was the creator. He was lying on the floor underneath a bookcase, which had tilted on its side. Carefully 223 grabbed the edge of the bookcase with his one functioning arm and dragged it off of the creator to get a better look. The creator was breathing.

Program search. Analyze. Assist.

223 shuffled to stand over the creator. He tried to search his programming for a response to this situation. He was programmed to be a personal assistant. He needed to assist, but how?

He detected an odd sound. Water. Rushing and roaring just outside of the boarded windows.

Tsunami activity detected. 223 grabbed an umbrella from the floor, opened it and held it over the now unmoving body of the creator.

Vocal chords vibrated, “watch your step.”