Usu Read Online Free Page A

'docking'.
    He’d made a lovely dent in the only useful door during the impact, and was briefly compelled by his programming into cleaning up his own mess before the ship had the audacity to insist, “DOCKING PROCEDURE SUCCESSFUL” at which point he, ignoring the ever-wobbly Usu examining the smash-related-entrance, delved into a twelve minute rant about how he doubted this ship had the wits to dock with an iPod. The ship, having not been established as a sentient character, failed to answer his taunts, and instead slowly fell silent as its every mechanical inch sank back into dormancy.
    ‘“Ugh, these things never listen, and when they do they just blame it on being programmed precisely like actual pilots, including the drunk ones it seems. Now you, Usu, at least you show some colour when cha―” It was only then that he noticed that he, irony be damned, couldn’t quite notice Usu anymore. After taking a few long moments to peer into every nearby vent and to perhaps relatedly check up on a certain vacuum cleaner, he was fairly sure the fuzzy rodent wasn’t on the ship anymore. What made him absolutely sure was the tiny bit of fluff at the steel stairwell they’d landed next to, and the odd way it seemed to form an arrow before he dutifully incinerated it.
    Feeling slightly dejected at having both his indignant rant with the synthetic voice and his appeasement through flowering camaraderie denied, Modbot was at a rare junction in his existence. He could, theoretically, smash his own face in the control room until he hopefully got sent to some slightly more familiar destination, at which point he could resume his joyous days of bitterly cursing humanity as he cleaned up after them. He could also follow the extremely subtle fluffy arrow, and no doubt get caught in a fate spun of numerous exploding things, smashy things, and rather difficult make-shift sign language interpretation.
    Noble a bot as he was, the choice was simple, or at least made simple after he checked several dozen times that the entire flight system had become as extinct as those who made it. He would foster this blossoming friendship, and at least pretend it was by pure intention. He set his leg servos to a 'moderately annoyed' speed for the first time in decades as he crawled through the hanging gardens of broken glass and barbed metal. Standing once more on the other side, he took note that he was on the small stairwell, measuring perhaps only four Usus wide and surrounded by a gargantuan hollow wind tunnel. The door in front of him was already open, a clearer sign he couldn’t ask for.
     
    Immediately upon stepping foot in the building, his senses, which had previously been dulled by the howling air from moments ago, were now privy to a rather obnoxious dripping noise. He hated dripping noises. Everyone did. But everyone, as you may recall, was currently preoccupied with being dead and thus had not the luxury of finding the source, let alone solving such an obvious hydro-disaster in the making. “No, no, I’ve… I’ve got to find the little bugger thing, there’s no doubt he’s causing all manner of other havoc!” Modbot did little to sway his own judgment, even with such despondently passionate words. “Oh fine, fine, fine! He probably started the drip! Or he’s at the drip! We always planned on re-uniting at drips if we were lost didn’t we?!” And so his course was set in bi-pedal motion. Modbot would use centuries of refined research at the pinnacle of human science to try and find a leaky spot, and Usu, well he had something quite different in store for him.
     
    From the very moment he entered, Usu was overcome with an overwhelming feeling of panic. Hysteria of a nature few ever come to feel, for he was not afraid of what might be ahead, but far, far more afraid of what might not be. Every step he took came with an image, every second step a voice from memories long buried. Carrying himself through countless passages until, in