An alarm sounded in a dark computer room far away. The young man with light skin and dark hair wheeled himself over to the computer, looked at the screen and gawked. He slammed a few buttons down on the keyboard, double checked the alarm, then reached over to the phone.

After he dialed in a few numbers, he held the phone to his ear. “Yeah, B… We’ve got a problem down here.”

“What is it?” came a smooth lower voice.

“9-1-3’s alarm just sounded.”

No answer came at first, as the other thought. “What’s his GPS?”

The young man quickly hit a few things into the keyboard and then said, “The South Hospital in Kens.”

“All right.” The other said. “Signal his model to start the soft alarm and shut-down procedures.”

“Sir?” the man asked confused.

“We’re going to stop him before he can do any harm.”

And then line went dead, the young man looking to it slowly. He shrugged and began to type in some coding into a black window on the screen. A few minutes later he hit in the confirmation code numbers and then signaled it to start.

Higher above him, in the office of Professor B., he was busy away talking on the phone. “This is B. Get me the fastest jet you’ve got, and twenty-six of the A-Rank Security Squad. This is not a drill, we’re going in for the big-one.”

And the man hung up. He pushed back his blond hair as he stood up, pulled on his white suit jacket and hurried out of the room.

B. walked briskly down the hall, talking to a young woman and young man beside him. “Has 9-1-3’s position changed at all?”

“No sir,” said the woman, flipping through papers.

“How much time do we have?” B. asked, turning a corner.

“About… four hours.” Said the man.

“And to get to him?”

“Three.”

“Make it two and I’ll promote you,” B. answered, getting into the elevator. “Lena, give me a status report of his Difference Engine and A.I.E.”

“He’s showing no signs of a significant wavier in his D.E.” the woman said, getting into the elevator as the doors closed and it started the quick descent. “His A.I.E. is projecting numbers that are off the charts.”

“Signalling?”

“High symptoms of confusion, sadness and happiness.”

“Which translates into?” B. asked, stepping out as the elevator’s doors dinged open.

“That he could possibly be feeling signs of heart-break…” Lena grabbed B.’s arm and pulled him to look at her. “Sir, this machine’s showing the potential of feeling love.”

B. yanked his arm away. “If that’s true then we have to shut him down at all costs, and signal the press to order an immediate withdrawal of all the current Dream Machines out there and brought in for complete diagnostics.”

“Sir?” Lena asked, adjusting her glasses as he watched the blond get into the limo out front.

“Dream Machines were made to be perfect companions.” B. stated. “Not things that can fall in and out of love with humans, or things that could express the natures of free-will, or the very cores of souls.”

“Sir, I think that stopping him now might be potentially-“

“He’s a machine made by us, and an out-of-date one at that.” B. glared at her. “He is rather an “it” and has no rights to anything. Shutting him down before he can cause any harm to the H.N.N. is imperative.”

And he slammed the door shut, the car driving away quickly.

Lena frowned, scratching her head. “Harm to the H.N.N. …?”

“He means the Human’s Natural Network,” said the man standing at the door. “It was a term passed when the creation of the 900-Series was started. It refers to the humans and all of their systems down to governments, and emotions.”

Lena’s eyes thinned as she walked to the guard, “What else is there about the 900-Series and this H.N.N.?”

The man shrugged, “It was written that if Dream Machines were ever exampled to interfere with that Network, that they’d be shut down and the project terminated.”

Lena rolled her eyes up the sky and smiled, “Professor B.’s about to have a rude awakening…” And she walked back into the building without another word.