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Colton held the mask in his hands. It felt like leather, but not. A strange texture that he couldn't remember feeling.

The last twelve hours spun in his head. The mission with the thieves' guild. Him being forced to "volunteer." Coming face to face with the masked workers and everyone running in fear... and their leader shoving him into the drones to make it easier for them to escape.

He knew now that they were never in any danger (except for coming home empty-handed, which, now that he thought about it, was pretty dangerous). None of the masks pursued them, just closed the door to the train car and went on with their work.

But in the moment, he just babbled in fear. He vaguely remembered saying something about his situation, how he never wanted to be a thief in the first place. By the time he realized he wasn't dying, he saw one of the masks—number twenty-four based on the number on its chest—kneeling next to him, just listening.

He didn't remember his exact words, but whatever he said led straight to here: him holding an identical mask to the others, deciding whether to put it on.

He looked back up at Twenty-Four. It nodded back.

With one last breath, he pulled the mask on.

The smell of the mask was sharp, acrid. It stung his nose and burned his eyes and coated the back of his throat like the coal never did. He blinked, trying to look out the lenses, but his view was getting hazier, darker...

With a start he realized the mask wasn't meant to keep gas out—it was to keep it in. The smell grew stronger, the sounds of the railyard grew muffled, and his vision swam. His balance tilted, and he wasn't sure he wasn't already falling over—

He felt a familiar body against him, supporting him. He had only just met it, but he'd recognize Twenty-Four anywhere. Its presence calmed him.

He felt feeling leave his arms, legs, body. The acrid smell was coating his tongue now, numbing all his senses. His world shrank. His eyes went dark, his ears deaf, his body numb. He wasn’t sure if he was still standing, if he was still in the railyard...

If he even existed...

The new drone does exist. The new drone's designation is thirty-three.

The thought was in his mind, but was not his. The words were strange, and left a vaguely metallic aftertaste, but he understood them. The "new drone" was him, number thirty-three. There was a sense of others listening, of suddenly appearing in a room full of others.

Drone thirty-three understands correctly. Drone thirty-three will stand by while it is converted.

He felt the thought take root in him. He could reject it, rebel... but why? He couldn't see, hear, or feel. If he could move at all, he had no way of knowing. While he hadn't heart the words "stand by" before, he knew it meant to wait. So he waited.

Initial conversion of drone thirty-three at twenty-five percent.

Drone twenty-four is present and confirms.

That thought came from someone else. It felt softer, more floral... Drone twenty-four? It was still with him?

Drone twenty-four is with drone thirty-three and monitoring the conversion in physical space.

Drone one is monitoring the conversion of drone thirty-three remotely.

That thought felt like a warm drink. He wondered if there was anything he should be doing.

Drone thirty-three will stand by while it is converted.

Drone twenty-four is monitoring. Drone thirty-three will be informed if changes are needed.

Drone one is monitoring. Drone thirty-three is cared for.

He was cared for... the thought was honest. Pure, in a way he'd never known. He could feel the sincerity behind One and Twenty-four's statements; even the metallic thoughts drew him in.

Drone thirty-three is part of the Collective and will learn what that means. Command Dispatch will continue its duty. Initial conversion of drone thirty-three at fifty percent.

Drone twenty-four is present and confirms. Drone twenty-four can show drone thirty-three.

Drone five requests visual data if possible.

Drone twenty-four cannot provide visual data to drone five; drone thirty-three is still converting and requires a physical connection to share visual data.

Drone five withdraws its request for visual data. Drone five looks forward to meeting drone thirty-three.

Drone thirty-three must give permission for drone twenty-four to connect.

Another voice? And visual data? He had a vague notion of a picture, of seeing something, but he was quickly becoming overwhelmed with the information pouring into his mind.

Drone thirty-three is correct that visual data will provide a picture; in this case, the progress of drone thirty-three's conversion as seen by drone twenty-four.

He wanted that, yes! His curiosity was burning; he wanted to see so badly.

Drone thirty-three has given permission for a direct connection to drone twenty-four. Drone twenty-four will proceed.

Drone twenty-four is proceeding. Drone thirty-three will stand by; this may get weird.

He wasn’t sure how much weirder this could ge—

Contact. Hello, drone thirty-three!

It was Twenty-four, but… closer? Like hearing someone’s voice in a quiet room after only hearing their echo.

That’s not far off, actually.

It was strange, but good.

Drone one wants to make sure no one objects to keeping drone thirty-three on the main line.

He didn’t have time to figure out if he cared before his eyes opened… except not? He was looking down at a figure lying on the ground. It was wearing the drone mask, with a cord coming out of one side of the "muzzle" towards his point of view. The rest of the figure was completely covered in the same strange not-leather as the mask. He could still see the outline of a shirt, pants—

That was him! That was him?

Yes, that's you.

He could barely believe it. It took him a moment just to come to grips with the fact that he was looking at himself. Once he did, he quickly wondered what was happening to him.

Initial conversion of drone thirty-three at seventy-five percent. Drone thirty-three will learn all there is to know during primary conversion.

Drone one is monitoring. Drone thirty-three is cared for.

The mask covered you in nanite weave, Twenty-four explained. It's converting key parts of you so you can hear us and survive like us.

He wondered how much longer it would take, and what would be left of him when it was done.

Initial conversion of drone thirty-three at eighty-three percent; estimated time remaining is ten seconds. Drone thirty-three is part of the Collective.

The most important parts of you are already here, Twenty-four said gently.

He saw his vision shift without him moving. It got closer to him and put a leather-clad hand on his chest. He felt the leather beneath the hand, watched as his vision swept up and down his body.

He realized with a shock he was looking through Twenty-four’s eyes.

You’ll get used to it, Twenty-four said with a bright laugh.

Initial conversion of drone thirty-three complete. Drone thirty-three will be activated on its request.

Activated? To experience his new body? Yes, he wanted to be activated!

Activating drone thirty-three. Stand by.

The vision and feelings from Twenty-four faded away. Don’t worry, it said, I’ll be right next to you until you’re secure.

And Twenty-four’s close presence disappeared, as quick as a snuffed candle.

His vision came back. It was different than he was used to, mostly through the cloudy glass that he saw covering his eyes. But there were other parts, shades of light and color that were mixed in. He knew they meant something, but he was at a loss as to what.

Drone thirty-three will learn its full capabilities during primary conversion. Drones one and twenty-four will indicate when drone thirty-three is ready to proceed.

Ready? How would he know if he was ready?

Drone thirty-three will orient itself and regain its mobility. Drone twenty-four is monitoring.

He moved his arms and flexed his fingers. He held them in front of his face: they were covered in leather, same as the rest of him. He could no longer see the outlines or remains of his clothing; the leather was completely skin-tight.

He touched his left hand with his right. It didn’t feel like he was wearing gloves, more like the leather was his skin. He touched his hands to his chest and abdomen and confirmed the same feeling: no loss of sensitivity, but the same leathery texture.

He tested his legs to make sure they still bent, then he sat up, knees bent and feet flat on the ground. His shoes were gone; the soles of his feet had a thick leather base, like a nice pair of boots. But there was no line between his boots and his legs, just a smooth unbroken covering of leather.

Curiosity demanded he look between his legs. Somehow he wasn’t surprised to see a smooth crotch, not even a seam where his legs met. He felt back and confirmed the same for his rear: the two muscles for his legs were well-defined, but the valley between them was bridged by the tight leather.

He looked to the side to see Twenty-four kneeling patiently next to him. He saw the number on its chest and looked down to his own.

Blank and featureless, much as the rest of him. He supposed that was another thing that would come at primary conversion.

Drone thirty-three will receive cosmetic changes at primary conversion.

And there it was. He hoped he would get more used to having his questions answered as soon as he could think them.

Drone thirty-three will learn to use Collective knowledge in time. Command Dispatch and other drones will relay answers until then.

Drone one and the Collective will support drone thirty-three. Drone thirty-three is not alone.

Drone twenty-four is ready to assist when Drone thirty-three is ready to attempt to stand.

In his strange peripheral vision, he saw Twenty-four extend a hand to him.

He moved his hand to its. The movement felt muted, like there was an extra layer between him and his arm. Like... he wasn't moving his arm, he was narrating his arm moving?

Drone twenty-four notes that drone thirty-three is very skilled with metaphor.

Drone eleven informs drone thirty-three that baby horses are able to walk as soon as they are born, but they are always clumsy the first few steps.

He laughed out loud in his head. The physical reaction was gone, but he felt the mirth. And he felt it echoed back by a dozen others.

He gripped Twenty-four's hand in his. It stood to its full height and nodded at him.

He pulled on Twenty-four's arm as he tried to move over his legs. Somehow it worked, and he was standing...

He was standing perfectly straight. Perfectly still. Not even a breath.

Not even a breath. The thought chilled him to his core. He was no longer a man, no longer even an animal.

Drone twenty-four reminds drone thirty-three that its best parts are safe, and while it is no longer a man, it will learn what it means to be a drone.

He turned his head to look at Twenty-four. Its face was blank, expressionless, hidden behind the same muzzled mask that now covered his face. And yet... he now knew what lay beneath it. In a way, he himself had been behind that mask for a moment.

The echoed laughter, the other thought sources: they were all other drones, hidden from the world behind their own masks. And now he was behind the mask, behind the curtain. He had left the audience and joined the stage show.

Drone eleven concurs with drone twenty-four that drone thirty-three is very skilled with metaphor.

The validation filled him with warmth. He was in a strange place, but he was already learning to navigate it. He was ready to learn more.

Twenty-four cocked its head to the side.

Drone twenty-four wants to know if drone thirty-three wishes to assert its readyness itself.

He did... though he did not know how.

Drone twenty-four informs drone thirty-three that if it wishes to send a message, it should think a complete statement with the intent for Command Dispatch to hear it.

He thought for a moment, remembering the words used...

He was ready for primary conversion.

Drone twenty-four reminds drone thirty-three that it is a drone, and it must accept that fact if it wishes to speak like one.

He thought he had.

Drone twenty-four can issue the command. Drone thirty-three is not expected to accept its new nature until after primary conversion.

He wanted to try one more time. He wanted to understand, to join, to be part of this Collective in any and every way he could...

Every way it could. It gathered its resolve and spoke:

Drone thirty-three is ready for primary conversion.

Drone twenty-four concurs with drone thirty-three that it is ready for primary conversion.

Drone one concurs with drone thirty-three that it is ready for primary conversion.

Drone five concurs with drone thirty-three that it is ready for primary conversion.

Drone twenty-seven concurs with drone thirty-three that it is ready for primary conversion.

Drone eleven concurs with drone thirty-three that it is ready for primary conversion.

The assertions felt like a homecoming to drone thirty-three. It barely had time to process the joy it felt before it received a new message.

Drones twenty-four and thirty-three will report to warehouse four.

And it felt the thought take hold, just as the "stand by" thought had first done. There was the potential to object, to rebel, but this was what it wanted. There was no reason to resist, not when this would fulfill its desire to fully become itself. So it complied.

Its body knew how to follow the command, it only had to let it. Its head moved to look straight ahead, then its feet rotated its body so it was facing parallel to the rail cars. It saw through its periphery drone twenty-four move into place behind it, and the two of them began walking—or rather, marching—in perfect unison down the line towards the depot.

Drone thirty-three estimated to arrive at warehouse 4 in five minutes, twenty-two seconds.

The two drones continued their march past railway cars and piles of spare parts. They occasionally passed a drone or two; they acknowledged each others' presence with a thought, nothing more. Everyone had their tasks to complete.

Drone twenty-two welcomes drone thirty-three.

Drone thirty-three thanks drone twenty-two.

Drones twenty-four and thirty-three passed the end of the line they were following and continued walking straight. Their steps remained in time, their arms swung in unison, their heads pointed straight ahead. They passed under an elevated conveyor belt and turned to the left.

Drone seventeen welcomes drone thirty-three.

Drone thirty-three thanks drone seventeen.

Warehouse four was a brick building with a numeral 4 painted elegantly on the short side. The conveyor belt entered at the top story, and the two drones approached the person-sized door straight ahead.

Upon arrival at warehouse four, drones twenty-four and thirty-three will proceed to drone maintenance. Drone twenty-four will connect drone thirty-three to maintenance bay two.

Drone thirty-three, being in the lead, opened the door to warehouse four. The room was two stories high and ran the entire short end of the warehouse. Its peripheral vision was showing any number of workbenches and parts that it could only assume were for drones. But its head faced forward toward the side wall where there were a number of rectangular cubbies set against the wall: the maintenance bays.

Drone thirty-three walked to what it knew was bay two. It pulled the drawer out to see a set of cords and tubes along with a set of rests that perfectly matched its new body. It turned around and sat on the platform like it was a bed.

Drone twenty-four took the tubes and attached them to the ports on drone thirty-three’s back. It took the thick bundle of wires and locked it into the base of drone thirty-three’s skull where its neck began.

The connection didn’t bring anything new, but drone thirty-three felt the possibility of something incredible. It thought to ask, but it knew it would find out in a moment.

Drone twenty-four locked the last fitting into place. Drone thirty-three lay down on the supports, the tubes and cables fitting snugly in the space between it and the platform. And with exactly enough force, drone twenty-four pushed the drawer closed, leaving drone 33 in total darkness.

Drone twenty-four has completed connecting drone thirty-three to maintenance bay two.

Drone thirty-three will stand by while primary conversion is initialized. Drone twenty-four will return to processing shipment 117432.

Drone twenty-four wishes drone thirty-three sweet dreams.

Drone thirty-three thanks drone twenty-four.

Drone thirty-three will enter maintenance mode.

Drone thirty-three, already lying inhumanly still, felt itself freeze. Its perceptions, everything from its sense of touch to its strange eyesight, winked out one by one until it was alone with the main line and the thoughts that came with it.

Contact. This is the primary conversion system. Stand by for orientation.

Drone thirty-three stood by. There wasn’t much else it could do—

---

It was technology beyond anything their world knew. Machines small enough to rewrite a living being! And its purpose...

Its purpose was control.

The lord had come into it through an acquaintance, and he was ecstatic. Finally, he could have his men be as reliable as his machines! He immediately put it to work on his foreman and tricked him into wearing the mask and applying the gas. By the time the foreman realized what was happening to him, it was too late: his body was already irrevocably altered, and he became the first drone.

The lord boasted to his colleagues of this new innovation. How his foreman had become a machine that would perfectly follow orders now. Imagine the efficiencies they would gain when all the men of the railyard were converted! But that would come in a moment; first they had to celebrate their newfound fortune.

And the lord, in his arrogance and folly, left his new machine alone with the equipment, believing it would remain still without orders. Perhaps another man would have.

But not the drone. Intuiting what it could, it found the controller module. The intent was for the lord to apply it to himself, altering him enough to communicate orders and control the thoughts of the collective of drones. Instead, the new drone took it and applied it to itself. Its new body integrated the module and adapted to it.

As the controller, it could now control itself and any other drones that might eventually be made. But as a drone, it was subject to being controlled. It was a desperate ploy, and in hindsight it could have failed spectacularly. Perhaps it would eventually. But for now, an equilibrium settled.

The drone played its part for a time, waiting to see if the lord would be satisfied with a single drone. It went about its work, more dilligent and precise than before. The other workers were unnerved by its presence, particularly its inhuman silence. They feared—rightly—that they could suffer the same fate.

Eventually, the temptation won. The lord was unsatisfied with another man's performance. He ordered the drone to fetch another mask and bring it to the rail yard. The drone did so... along with a rail spike. When the lord proved set on turning his employee as punishment, the drone took matters into its own hands.

The transformation robbed it of speech, but not writing. It made its demands clear to the lord's business partners: it would decide who becomes a drone, not them. In return, it would operate the railway as normal. The partners readily agreed.

The drone thought that would be it, but within the week the man approached the drone. He had been a friend to the foreman, and did not want the drone to be alone. The drone refused at first, not wanting its friend to suffer its fate. But eventually, the drone relented.

And the Railway Collective was born.

Processes were established though the controller module. Rules were enshrined into their nature. Every drone was a controller and controlled. And everything would be done to maintain the equilibrium. For in that equilibrium, what was intended to be exploitive could be made beneficial.

---

Drone thirty-three came back to itself. Thirty-six hours had elapsed since it had entered the maintenance bay. It was sufficient time for it to process the knowledge that had been added to its memory. Beyond that, there was a sea of knowledge available to it, the sum knowledge every drone—itself included—brought into the Collective and all that had been learned since.

Its perceptions reactivated. Its optics were first, useless as they were in the dark. Next its infrared vision that could see heat, even through walls. Then its proximity sonar that let it instantly understand where it was in space, even behind it. Balance, touch, audio completed the set.

It checked its vitals: its internal reactor was fully operational and its nanite reserves were full.

All was as it should be. It allowed itself a moment of pride, both in itself and the Collective it was part of.

Drone thirty-three has completed primary conversion.

Drone six is nearby and is available to disconnect drone thirty-three.

Drone six will disconnect drone thirty-three. Drone six will arrive at warehouse four in two minutes twelve seconds.

Drone thirty-three took the time to look at its schedule. It was assigned to general receiving for the next twelve hours, which would take it through the night and into the next morning. After four hours of cleaning duty it had eight hours of downtime. Then it would work on engine maintenance for Sixteen hours: it and drone twelve would be rebuilding an engine from parts. After that was more receiving and sending, cleaning and maintenance, with spots of downtime sprinkled throughout.

And six days from now it had twenty-four hours of downtime. Even as a machine dedicated to working, it got one day off per week.

Drone six arrived at the maintenance bay and opened it. It disconnected the hoses and wires and connected fresh fuel and waste tanks in their places.

Drone six has completed disconnecting drone thirty-three from maintenance bay two.

Drone thirty-three thanks drone six.

Drone six welcomes drone thirty-three to the Collective.

Drone six is released to return to downtime. Drone thirty-three will report to siding one.

Drone six turned casually to the side and stood out of the way.

Drone thirty-three sat up and stood from the mantenance bay. It applied the exact amount of force to close the empty bay, then turned and walked out of warehouse four.

It knew it could do otherwise, but it saw no reason to. So it let itself report for its first day of work.

---

Drone twenty-four is released to downtime.

Drone twenty-four felt light. It was always nice to achieve optimal efficiency and complete tasks early. Its next maintenance wasn't for five days, so the next three hours were its to do as it pleased.

Drone thirty-three requests direct connection to drone twenty-four, low priority.

Drone twenty-four's mood brightened even further. It had been wondering how drone thirty-three was faring since it finished its conversion two weeks ago.

Drone twenty-four accepts request for direct connection with drone thirty-three. Drone thirty-three will provide a location.

Drone twenty-four will proceed to the roof of platform two.

Drone twenty-four allowed itself to follow the command. The roof! It hoped this was a sign of drone thirty-three's personality remaining intact.

It decided not to dwell on the possibility that it was not.

A staircase took it to the mezzanine level of the platform. A small but exceptionally sturdy ladder in the corner took it to the roof. And one application of inhuman balance later, it sat on the ridge of the roof next to drone thirty-three.

It looked over drone thirty-three. It hadn't changed its appearance much. The standard false seams were present, small visual cues in the drone's nanite weave to give the appearance of a skintight suit. The company logo was "embroidered" on its right breast and a simple "33" on its left. Its head remained smooth and featureless.

Drone thirty-three tugged on the wire going from its right tank to the right side of its mask. It disconnected the wire from the tank and held it towards drone twenty-four.

Drone twenty-four disconnected the wire on the left side of its mask and turned its head to show the port to drone thirty-three.

Drone thirty-three connected its wire to drone twenty-four’s mask.

Contact? Is that correct?

Drone twenty-four laughed. It was a bright feeling that danced around drone thirty-three’s mind and colored its thoughts. Yes, it said, that’s right.

Drone thirty-three returned a sense of happiness. Drone thirty-three is glad drone twenty-four is here.

Drone twenty-four’s mirth faded slightly. It’s just the two of us on this line, it said. There’s no need to be formal.

Right, of course, drone thirty-three said, feeling chagrin. Sorry, I’ve only been on public lines since I finished my conversion.

You have! I saw you were very busy helping us adapt to the robber guild’s tactics.

Yes, well… Drone thirty-three rubbed the back of its head and would have blushed if it could. I had information.

You had more than that, drone twenty-four insisted. You had perspective, insight; you're very creative. It fidgeted and looked down. I wasn’t sure you would choose to be a drone, it said, the thought small and meek. I’m ever so glad you did.

I am as well, drone thirty-three said. Truly, I am happier here than I ever was as a man, perhaps even more than I could be.

Drone twenty-four looked at it. You were not in the guild by choice, were you?

Drone thirty-three shook its head. No, it said. My family sent me away to work, and when I finally learned what the "work" truly was, it was too late; they could not let me leave.

How long were you with them?

A number of years, I think. The time does blend together. But when we met was my first mission against a railway car. It chuckled. You were so kind to me, even then.

Well, drone twenty-four said, rubbing the back of its head, when a man is pushed towards a monster by its comrade, something is clearly not right.

Drone twenty-four looked up to see drone thirty-three staring at it. It sensed a feeling of joy tinged with nervousness.

From that moment, drone thirty-three said, I wanted to be like you. I had seen your strength and your power, how you could withstand a firearm and bend it in half. Yet when you held me... I swear to you, I felt safer as your prisoner than I ever had before.

You were never my prisoner, drone 24 said. You were someone in need. Someone I knew, even then, I would like to know better.

The feeling of joy from drone thirty-three intensified, beginning to morph into something else. And I you, it said. Do... do you have a name?

Drone twenty-four shook its head. No, it said. I am drone twenty-four... but as a woman, I was Janis.

Drone thirty-three nodded. I realize I am the same, it said. I was called Colton... but that is not my name. It fidgeted, and the feeling was bolstered by a sudden determination. Drone twenty-four, it said, I believe I am feeling affection towards you.

Drone twenty-four was still, but it released a spark of joy. I harbor affection towards you as well, drone thirty-three, it said.

Drone thirty-three's happiness blossomed out in a wave of affection. Drone twenty-four allowed itself to be swept along and added its own affection. And the two drones sat on the roof, aware of the sunset but only having eyes for each other.

Truly, drone thirty-three said after several moments, confessing my affection was not my intent when I called you here.

Oh? Do tell...

I was truthful when I said I wanted to be like you. When I made my choices for cosmetic alterations during my primary conversion, your appearance was all I could think about. It felt rude to simply copy you, but I also lacked the nerve to...

Drone twenty-four cocked its head. To give yourself a more feminine appearance? To be more ladylike?

Drone thirty-three only nodded. I know I should not feel shame at such a notion, it said. Indeed, I'm not even sure I do. But I feel like I am supposed to, contradictory as that is.

Drone twenty-four reached forward and took drone thirty-three's hand. It is a sign that you are still yourself, it said. It is an echo from your life before, and though it is not desired, it means the Equilibrium is in place.

Drone thirty-three nodded. Because if it were to be simply written out of me, it said, then I would be controlled and not a controller. I understand that, though, in this case, I am not particularly grateful.

Drone twenty-four laughed. Then can I help you move past it?

Yes, please. Would you be available for consultation during my next maintenance period?

I can make sure that I am. Stand by.

Drone twenty-four looked out toward the sunset.

Drone twenty-four requests schedule change to align with drone thirty-three.

Drone thirty-three would have gasped if it had lungs. As it was, its happiness renewed.

Unable to grant schedule change request to drone twenty-four: requested change would place drone twenty-four’s next maintenance period outside acceptable parameters.

That dampened the mood, but drone thirty-three refused to let it die.

Drone thirty-three requests schedule change to align with drone twenty-four.

Drone thirty-three got a feeling of happy exasperation from drone twenty-four. Yes, it said, that would only make sense.

Drone thirty-three will disconnect from drone twenty-four and enter secure siding one. Drone twenty-four will disconnect from drone thirty-three and enter secure siding two.

Drone thirty-three reached for its cable before stopping itself. Are we in trouble? it asked.

Not at all, drone twenty-four said. It’s just one of our rules, you’ll see. I’ll be right here. It pulled the cable out of its mask and placed it in drone thirty-three’s outstretched hand.

Drone thirty-three nodded. Mentally, it shifted its attention to the secure siding, a separate track for drones to communicate privately with Command Dispatch.

Drone thirty-three is present.

A schedule change has been requested to align drone thirty-three with drone twenty-four. Drone thirty-three must personally approve this request.

Drone thirty-three approves the request.

The optimal path for minimal disruption would require drone thirty-three to truncate its current downtime by eight hours. This is a tier two change: it must be approved by drone thirty-three in private session with Command Dispatch without coercion or threat. If drone thirty-three fears reprisal, it can inform Command Dispatch now and a separate reason will be found for denial.

That was… a lot. But remembering how “voluntary” duties were handled in the thieves guild, it made sense.

Drone thirty-three voluntarily and enthusiastically approves the request.

Drone thirty-three is thanked for its service. It will return to the main line.

It shifted its attention back to the main line where a request was already waiting for it:

Drone twenty-four requests to direct connection to drone thirty-three when available.

Drone thirty-three immediately reconnected itself to drone twenty-four. It barely had time to emote before the next message came through on the main line.

Schedule change for drone thirty-three approved. Drone thirty-three will examine its new schedule and prepare for its next assignment.

We won't be doing everything together, drone twenty-four explained, but it will make sure we're in end-of-week downtime and maintenance periods at the same time.

And we can connect during maintenance?

Yes; there’s a switchable connection in the maintenance bays. It was used during your conversion to connect you to the primary conversion system.

I look forward to it, Drone thirty-three said with a mix of giddyness, anticipation, and affection.

I do as well, Drone twenty-four said. In the meantime, what should we do with our remaining hour and thirty-four minutes?

Drone thirty-three looked out toward the sunset. Sunset is in twenty-one minutes and fifteen seconds, it said. I should like to watch it with you.

Drone twenty-four reached out and took drone thirty-three's hand again. Drone thirty-three squeezed it back.

And the two drones, nearly identical from a distance, watched the sun set over the rail yard.