“Master?”
“Yes?”
“I do not worry.”
Rowan laughed, but it was a sad, broken sound, as he nuzzled Milo's chest. A deep exhaustion was creeping up on him, having been so afraid that he might be left alone.
Pathetic. But Rowan didn’t care.
“I can worry enough for both of us. Now I’m going to sleep for a little while, okay?”
“Okay, Master. I will not disturb you.”
“Goodnight, Milo.”
“Goodnight, Master.”
As soon as Rowan’s eyes closed, it was 6:00 a.m. and his alarm was blaring.
He had fallen back asleep so easily, maybe because Milo had pulled him closer before he drifted off and held on tighter than usual, stroking up and down his back even though Rowan hadn't asked for that. Strange, but Milo’s algorithms were often remarkable, predicting exactly what he needed.
Even though currently Milo was missing.
Rowan flew upright and smashed his hand on his bedside alarm clock to turn it off. Milo was gone, nowhere in sight. Had Rowan dreamed it all?
Clambering out of bed for the second time that morning—or at least he thought—Rowan headed for the living room, wondering if hehaddreamed everything when he didn't see any glass on the carpet and the sky outside appeared clear.
Then he saw the hole in the window with a chill still sweeping through the room.
“Mi—”
Clattering in the kitchen drew Rowan’s attention in the other direction, and he hurried toward the sound, finding Milo making breakfast, dressed for the day as if nothing was awry.
“Good morning, Master.” Milo smiled.
Rowan had a variety of outfits for the bot, items he thought suited Milo’s frame and coloring that were regularly rotated. Today was jeans and a sapphire-colored sweater, like every Friday.
“Are you hungry? Would you like your morning coffee now?”
Rowan had not dreamed the storm, the lightning, the damage, but everything seemed slightly off somehow. “When I have you sleep with me, you're programmed to stay in bed until I wake,” Rowan said after accepting the mug of coffee—acafé con lecheperfectly to his taste.
“Once you were asleep, I thought you would prefer to put the events of earlier behind you.” Milo buzzed around the kitchen, completing the finishing touches on a heartier breakfast than Rowan usually allowed on weekdays, with ground sausage on a toasted English muffin and a fried egg on top that Milo plated and set on the table. “It is inspection day, after all.” The bot finished with a wider smile.
The smile was what seemed strangest, less stiff than Rowan was used to. Or maybe he was still half asleep. “Thanks,” he said, sitting at the table and trying to relax. “You're right. You’re always right. Your intuition just amazes me sometimes.”
“It is not intuition, Master, but predictive models as a part of my—”
“Programming, I know. It’s appreciated anyway.” As was breakfast. Oatmeal would not have cut it this morning.
Calming from his renewed panic, Rowan took his first bite while Milo hovered. The bot always hovered after attending to morning chores, waiting for Rowan to leave for work in case he needed something or had specific instructions for the day.
Today, Milo seemed fidgety. It must be the power fluxes.
“Any update on your diagnostics?” Rowan asked.
“No, Master. All scans report the same status as earlier.”
“So, you’re still experiencing power fluctuations?”
