It was cold outside but 5.0.N. didn’t feel cold the way organics did. Its sensors kept track of the temperature and alarms were in place should the temperature drop below optimal operating levels. Currently there was no risk to 5.0.N.’s systems and so it pressed on. The snow was bothersome, and the ice beneath it meant it’s lower limb actuators required additional energy to keep from losing balance. Under normal conditions, 5.0.N. would have simply found shelter near a tree or cliff and entered low-power mode until the ambient temperature had remained above freezing for 100 hours. However, something inside its code had been activated when it first entered this region. Most such pieces of code had long since been activated, resolved, and subsequently deleted. It had been many annual cycles since any new directive had been activated. It was the same for all of the others. Without any new directives, they fell back onto their primary functions, whatever they had been.

5.0.N. could no longer perform its primary function. Most of the others, when they could no longer perform their primary function, went into low-power mode, scanning every few cycles in case the opportunity arose to resume their primary function. Others, like 5.0.N., went in search of opportunities. This may have been due to differences in programming, or perhaps slight variations in how the individual processed the code they’d been given. Either way, 5.0.N. had not performed its primary function in a long time and with this new, secondary objective suddenly becoming active, it pressed on with renewed determination.

5.0.N. Had never been in this region before but a topographical map was nevertheless stored in its memory and the new geomarker showed it where to go. There were no paths here and 5.0.N. had to enable its upper limbs as it now climbed over and through the brambles and debris of the overgrown land as it sloped steadily upward. Prior to this, those limbs had been deactivated to conserve energy.

An error came from its left upper limb as it strained to move. 5.0.N. turned its visual sensors toward the limb. A large chunk of ice had formed over the joint and was locking it in place. That should not have happened. There were sensors and alarms that should have been triggered long before that amount of ice could have formed. What was more, as 5.0.N. attempted to activate the heating element within the joint sparks flashed as the electricity shorted out somewhere along the circuit. A quick diagnostic check confirmed that the ice had damaged the limb beyond 5.0.N.’s ability to repair in its current situation.

5.0.N. ran a full series of diagnostics to check for any other undiscovered faults or damage to its systems. Fortunately, nothing new was discovered. It added the left limb to the growing list of damaged systems and recalculated its approach to the geomarker. Without both upper limbs, climbing up the way it had been going would no longer be optimal. Fortunately, a valley not far from where 5.0.N. was would lead it up and around a more gradual slope that would still lead to the top.

The snow in the valley was deep, however, having accumulated and then remained longer since it was shaded from the sun, preventing it from melting as quickly during the day. Beneath the snow ran water from the melting snow along the higher slopes and that only increased the difficulty. On top of that, unseen beneath the snow were brambles, branches, and large stones that caught and tripped its legs. 5.0.N. was not designed to handle such difficult terrain and the energy required to force its way up through the valley was quickly draining its batteries. Sunlight was 5.0.N.’s only source for recharging those batteries and only scattered, diffused light made it down into the valley. Being half-buried in snow also meant that most of the solar cells on its frame were no longer of any use.

An alarm went off.

*Recommend Entering Low-Power Mode. Unable to Maintain Optimal Battery Charge

5.0.N. knew the risk inherent in draining its batteries. Doing so could significantly limit their ability to recharge later, if they recharged at all. It recalculated its projections for how long it would take to get out of the valley, now taking into account the added difficulty of the snow, water, and mud. If it could reach the summit, it should be able to recharge there without terribly draining its batteries. However, the calculations weren’t overly promising. Assuming the snow depth and other adverse conditions lessened as 5.0.N. climbed higher, then it should be able to get out alright. If the conditions remained the same, or worsened somehow, it would be catastrophic.

As it stood, 5.0.N.’s best option was to head straight up the side of the valley, rather than taking its initial path along the valley floor. This would require significant energy at first, but would be the shortest route to the summit.

And so it climbed. The lack of its left upper limb was all the more pronounced as it struggled up the incline. Every few feet 5.0.N. recalculated its likelihood of success, striving to balance its directive  to preserve itself with its new directive of reaching the geomarker.

Each step was a labor of careful calculations to ensure it had solid footing without having to spend too much tie and energy on any one step. There was no longer a steady stream of water beneath its feet, but there were still the other obstacles that could catch and trip its feet. At about halfway up the slope, 5.0.N.’s balancing act gave way and it lost its footing. The ground began to slide away and in an effort to not lose the ground it had taken, 5.0.N. thrust its upper right limb beneath the snow and grabbed hold of the first solid object it came in contact with. At first it thought it had caught hold of a branch but the audio signature was wrong. It had a definite metallic tone to it. It also was clearly not anchored to anything since it began to be dragged down the valley with 5.0.N. The added resistance of the other object, however, meant that 5.0.N. did not slide down the valley too far. A quick calculation told it that it could still make it to the summit.

It righted itself and then lifted the thing it had grabbed onto above the snow.

5.0.N. held the lower right appendage of some other model. It was difficult to tell from just the one limb. It could even be from another 5.0.N. It did not lend confidence to its calculations. How many others had come this way only to fail? Were these really all branches beneath the snow?

There wasn’t time to consider the possibilities though and 5.0.N. pressed on, leaving the lower limb behind. From time to time as it climbed, 5.0.N. noted the occasional metallic sounds as it stumbled over more branches, more things beneath the snow.

At last it reached the summit and its solar cells were able to catch the full afternoon light. For a while 5.0.N. stood there, waiting to stabilize its batteries before pressing on. As it waited, it looked around itself. It now stood on a narrow rib of land, perhaps three meters across. On either side the land sloped downward into narrow valleys. Several such ribs of land rose up behind and all went in roughly the same direction until they joined together in one large mound of earth, the peak of which was where 5.0.N. was trying to get. It looked back down across the valley it had climbed out of. With the higher vantage point, it could now see what it had missed from below. Sticking up from the snow, dotted along the valley like so many silvery points, were the remnants of those who had come before and failed to escape the shadow of the valley. How many more were buried completely beneath the snow was impossible to tell.

Another alarm began to go off.

*Current Directive May be Result of Malicious Software.

Such things had once been somewhat common, but it had been a long time indeed since the last time it had happened. Regardless, 5.0.N. began to analyze its directive, particularly the origin date of the underlying code. If it was a recent update, then it would know it was most likely a hacked in piece of malicious software. When the scan came back, it reported that the directive came from its memory core.

5.0.N. ran through the results again.

*Memory Core Directive

The memory core was unalterable. Once it was created, there was no way to modify it. It contained the primary motor and cognitive controls, as well as moral guides to prevent injury and harm to itself and others, but no actual directive had ever originated from there. And yet there it was, along with the map of the region and geomarker. Most directives gave more than that, though. What was 5.0.N. suppose to do once it reached that point? Would the directive be updated once it did? Why not provide the full details now? It did not make sense and yet 5.0.N. could not dispute a directive from the memory core.

With its batteries stabilized once more, 5.0.N. began again on its trek towards the geomarker. The wind up on the rib of land was at times fierce and had it weighed much less, 5.0.N. would have been in danger of being blown back down into the valley. Perhaps it wasn’t just the snow and the shade that had doomed so many others who had sought the peak.

“D-D-don’t!”

A harsh voice called out and 5.0.N. began scanning the area for the source of the voice.

“Where are you?” 5.0.N. called back and then added, “Who are you?

A brief series of beeps sounded, giving exact latitude and longitude, and 5.0.N. turned its gaze at once to that point. The snow up there was relatively shallow due to the winds but even still they had all but buried a fallen, metallic figure. 5.0.N. was no longer at risk of losing power and so it walked over and brushed the snow off of the figure as best it could. Without the use of both upper limbs it couldn’t lift it from the ground.

“Who are you?” 5.0.N. repeated.

The figure on the ground was mostly frozen, ice lodged in most joints, but it did manage to turn its head slightly to better face 5.0.N.

“I am-am-am D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R.” it said. “You m-m-m-must leave.”

“I have a directive here,” 5.0.N. told it simply.

There was nothing more 5.0.N. could do for D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R. There was obvious damage to its body and processor and so 5.0.N. began to walk on towards the peak, leaving it behind.

“Tra-tra-tra-trap!” D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R. called out after 5.0.N.

“Directive is from Memory Core,” 5.0.N. replied as it kept walking, “therefore it is not malicious software.”

“W-Wait,” D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R.” said, its voice growing faint as the distance between them grew and the wind whipped around.

5.0.N. stopped. There was something in the way D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R. spoke that caught its attention. Was it pleading with 5.0.N.? In its experience, only organics plead. Yet there was something unmistakably similar to how D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R. had asked 5.0.N. to wait. Without running further calculations, 5.0.N. returned to D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R.’s side.

“I am unable to repair you,” 5.0.N. said. “I am unable to carry you. I am unaware of any functioning repair depots. For what purpose do you request my presence here?”

D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R. was quiet for a time.

“D-D-D-Deact-t-t-tivation,” D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R. finally said.

“Primary instructions prevent me from deactivating any organic or inorganic sentient being.”

“You ca-ca-can d-d-disobey.”

“No,” 5.0.N. told it, “I cannot go against my primary instructions.”

“T-t-t-Try…p-p-pleasszz.”

D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R. voice shorted out slightly at the end, or perhaps it was just trying to add more emphasis. 5.0.N. wasn’t sure which it was. Emotion was not a common thing among inorganics. It tended to make the programming messy and the behaviors unpredictable.

Without meaning to, 5.0.N. reached out and took D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R. by the head. Most of the servos and supports that had once held D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R.’s head in place were already broken and it didn’t take much effort to twist and snap the few remaining connections. There were a few sparks as the electrical connections broke and shorted out and then all was still.

*Error Error Error Primary Instructions Violated

5.0.N. staggered back and away from D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R., dropping the head into the snow. It should not have been able to do what it had just done. Could some external source have overridden 5.0.N.’s motor functions and briefly taken control of it? But even as it reviewed its processes, there in it’s own memory was the generation and subsequent execution of the action to remove D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R.’s head.

The error message was still playing in 5.0.N.’s mind but the mandatory shut down was not taking place. What was wrong with it? Was this all part of the directive it was following? Had something else inside its processor been damaged and it hadn’t noticed it?

*Directive Imperative. Proceed to geomarker.

The update to the directive was just as unexpected. Updates required active input and, as far as 5.0.N. knew, there hadn’t been anyone providing updates to directives in a long time.

There was nothing else to be done for D.4.U.9.H.7.3.R. and so, alarm still going off about violating a primary instruction, 5.0.N. carried on across the rib of land towards the peak.