Usu Read Online Free PDF

your oil, cold enough at night to seize your gears. Worse yet, in cleaning mode I’m likely to recognise the whole thing as 'dusty' and be stuck cleaning that up for a few more centuries!” He grabbed his chest to calm an equally imaginary heart. “Yet I know we―or at least I―must endure. The closest chronicle is Old Francisco, built around the entirety of the Golden Gate Bridge.”
    Rain, notably as absent minded as Usu was about the current era, followed up with the rather logical question, “Chronicle? You want to visit a book?”
    Modbot sighed once more at the fact she wasn’t a real little girl he could strangle, and instead answered, “No no, Chronicles are… are… they’re like this but made up of things like us. There’s probably some form of transport available from them, at least I hope so; I never did visit the one in New Jersey. That place, lass, has a history of filth not even I could clean up.”
     
    You, dear reader, already robbed of whatever time and money you used to get this far, would likely be questioning the choice of 'Old' Francisco as opposed to the more historically ironic 'Sans' right about now. Allow your narrator to elaborate that there was indeed a period where the name did bear a startling resemblance to that; unfortunately that period was marred by most of the creative robots not having committed accidentally assisted suicide. They had, in confused honour of their missing masters, chosen 'Comic Sans Francisco'. This name lasted for an entire week before the mass (but clearly accidental) suicides adjusted things appropriately. It’s suspected one or two creative robots may still be functioning, mysteriously appearing coffee foam designs are proof enough of that, but the likelihood of them trying to name a city after a font again is… highly unlikely.
     
    Like two gears clicking into motion, Rain placed Usu on the floor near her time-tattered feet and, summoning the guile one would expect from anything above a goldfish, exclaimed, “You want to go outside?!” Her eyes made mechanical sounds that defied her human image as they expanded in dilation.
    “Well, yes. I’ve got a few more hundred years left and might just manage to clean out a bistro or two in that time, and this little guy, he seems to really like junkyards. Probably stays near one where we positively did not try to murder each other, and by each other I may mean just him.”
    Sounding more nostalgic than her makings would confess, Rain replied, “Snow doesn’t like junkyards, he just didn’t have a choice. Sometimes he’d smile when talking about them thou―” Rain’s goldfish senses awakened once again to interrupt herself. “You want to take him with you? Boo! Snow is not going anywhere without Rain! Boo Modshiny, boo!”
    Usu, had been standing between the two for some time now, left largely to wonder how a conversation about him, and furthermore, surrounding him, managed to completely ignore his presence, input, and general existence. Of course, not possessing a mouth, speaker system, or means of communication other than bouncing hysterically―which he was now doing in earnest―were probably primary culprits.
    “Shush, shush you, I’ll check your danger diaper in a moment,” Modbot said, dismissing Usu’s clamour for existential recognition. “More importantly, I think we need to get you out of this mistaken identity cliché. You see, girl,” turning to face Rain once more. “It appears you’re mistaking our surprisingly squishy little rabbit robot here for an actual live human . Allow me to remind you that his name, Usu, is rather poorly stitched into his leg. Oh, and I suppose all living creatures being dead, most notably here humans , for the last three-hundred years, well that might be important as well.” Modbot had seized a logical victory, one no one could argue against, one that made perfect sens―
    “Boo!” Retorted Rain, in a surprisingly effective one-word maneuver.
    ‘“No