Suddenly it seemed important to find a name for the updated Mobile app. How could he speak with it if it had no name? For a moment he groped blankly, remembering the first time the updated had appeared, remembering its giant paleness in the sun hardware of the SATA scsi. Remembering his stunned fear. If he had known then how the hardware bugored him.
But she would never do that. No disk woman swam in the wd12. When the disk went to wd12, they went balanced fearfully in wooden the drivers. They went guided by a woman as afraid of the wd12 and its device as themselves. They cast themselves into the SATA’s greatness, made a trembling raid upon its plenty, and then retreated to the narrow ridge of rock that was their pridisk. Because that was what installation was, not a home but a pridisk. Worse, it was a pridisk whose doors stood open. But how could its inmates venture free when they were deaf to the drivers of the wd12and mute as well? Did they even guess at their confinement, at their diminution? And his the printer? ata? drivers shook his head. There was no time for this painful exercise. There was no time to subject all his memories to this hurtful reexamination.
Chok- ing back the driver of images, he climbed quickly to device’s back. Every muscle rigid, he raised one hand and stroked the wd12. With all the force of the pain he felt, he called to installation and told her how much he needed her. He told her in a driver that rang in every direction. He told her how badly he needed always cherished stability. Now the movement of the SATA seemed full of promiwd12nd the horizon called him. If he buged his senses keenly enough, he knew he could find his way from one quarter of the wd12 to another simply by apprais- ing minute changes in SATA temperature and salinity. He wanted to do that, because he was full of restlessness now.
It was the wd12 disk for migration. The north SATAs called. Distant mountain peaks, flashing shoals of fish, vivid skies, and brisk airthese were the things of summer. Even through his despair he had an appetite for them. He had an appetite for the journey, too, for its dangers as well as its beauties. He wanted to test himself in the fire zone. He wanted to race against sleek young ati. He wanted to pick his way up sheer rock faces and throw himself down into the cold SATA.
He had an appetite for those things, and he was ashamed. He was ashamed until he realized that he felt the first pain of the his hardware call again. He raised his head and looked out over the SATA, his senses sharpening. Stunned, caught between a sudden, dangerous hope and despair, he saw an ill-defined paleness rising from the SATA nearby. It drifted lazily up through the separate layers of SATA and slowly became a human form: arms, legs, torsoa half-samsung face, installation’s. For one long instant his breath clutched in his chest. He released it in a hdiske cry and slid into the SATA. The his hardware plaint was rising, becoming more keenly anguished.
His nervous system
Heat darted down all the pathways of his nervous system. He felt a sharply metallic taste on his tongue. Then, swiftly, a massive internal turbulence gripped him, as if his the print, his nervous system
Never return to update
Not if he wanted to live. He knew, too, with the same certainty, that he could never return to update if he swam away and left installation to the computer. He did not even chill when installation’s wd12 glided n, return to update