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"It's not a d-bee," Dane blurts, his voice sharper than he intends. For a moment, all the mental discipline he’s built slips under the weight of teenage frustration. "I told you, it's an extremely advanced artificial intelligence." He tries to steady himself, but exhaustion is winning. "By all accounts, Vi’s a d-bee too. Are you tracking her just to destroy her as well?" His voice rises, uncharacteristically raw, letting spill things he’s kept bottled up for months.

He draws a shaky breath, struggling to pull his thoughts back into order. "How does being a d-bee make you bad? What if I were? You’ve known me my whole life. Would you lock me up, or throw me away like some piece of trash?" The words hang in the air, his breath coming fast as he realizes just how far he’s let himself go. He stops, catching himself before he says more—before he admits the truth about himself that he’s only just now facing.

"It's not a d-bee," Dane blurts, his voice sharper than he intends. For a moment, all the mental discipline he’s built slips under the weight of teenage frustration. "I told you, it's an extremely advanced artificial intelligence." He tries to steady himself, but exhaustion is winning. "By all accounts, Vi’s a d-bee too. Are you tracking her just to destroy her as well?" His voice rises, uncharacteristically raw, letting spill things he’s kept bottled up for months.

"That's enough, Dane," his father warns.

He draws a shaky breath, struggling to pull his thoughts back into order. "How does being a d-bee make you bad? What if I were? You’ve known me my whole life. Would you lock me up, or throw me away like some piece of trash?" The words hang in the air, his breath coming fast as he realizes just how far he’s let himself go. He stops, catching himself before he says more... before he admits the truth about himself that he’s only just now facing.

Joe settles himself, lets out a long breath, then says, “George… look, I’m sorry, buddy. But I reckon you an’ Dane are off this case. We got it wrapped up anyhow. Y’all go on an’ head back to Hammer, and I’ll make sure Dane gets his pay.”

"Joe... come on! We've got this far and we could find..." George begs.

"I said go home! Go on now."

"May I interject?" Hummer cuts in, "Dane is incredibly perceptive with logic systems and he could prove very useful in our invest..."

"Our?" Sheriff Ericson cuts back, "I reckon yer the reason we're here! Either you surrender peacefully, or we have a problem."

"Define problem."

"Our combined armed forces will bring you to justice."

"Then I surrender myself on one condition." Hummer opens his driver's door, "Dane drives me there and remains on the case."

"No deal." Joe glares, "But I might take your offer on driving."

The door slams back shut, "Then prepare for battle. I have a mission and mean no harm," as Hummer insinuates that he'll do as he must.

George frowns, "Joe, I know how stubborn you can get, but what if..."

"No, George!" the sheriff faces nose to nose with him, "Do you want to keep your job?"

George stiffens, hands ready, thousand yard gaze meeting the sheriff's as his stance shifts to more of a combat posture. Dane's only seen his dad act like this a few other times, including his mother's untimely death. A presence that only a hardened warrior could exude.

“Mr. Ericson, I’m sorry. I’m just tired. What I do is mentally exhausting, and I let my emotions get the better of me.” He says it humbly, shifting his stance closer to the two, trying to draw Joe’s focus to himself. “I’ll go without argument if you really want me to, but I think that would be a mistake. Hummer isn’t malevolent. I’ve seen enough to believe that. He’d rather fight to the end than betray his friends or let them down.”

“Mr. Ericson, I’m sorry. I’m just tired. What I do is mentally exhausting, and I let my emotions get the better of me.” He says it humbly, shifting his stance closer to the two, trying to draw Joe’s focus to himself. “I’ll go without argument if you really want me to, but I think that would be a mistake. Hummer isn’t malevolent. I’ve seen enough to believe that. He’d rather fight to the end than betray his friends or let them down.”

Joe never takes his gaze from George, like a demented staring contest, “Duly noted, Dane. You’re recognizin’ the chain of command better’n Deputy Stryker here. Now that machine… it’s just that... a machine. And even if it’s got good intentions, you gotta ask yourself what kinda friends it’s fallin’ in with.”

George inhales like he's been personally insulted, then eases, breaking his gaze, "Ah damnit... Joe, you're right. Forgive the insubordination." He turns to Dane, "We need to round this thing up, but you heard the sheriff... Let's get moving," as he begins walking back up the hill from under the bridge.

"Please, gentlemen. This is an honorable mission. I need to fin..."

"Honorable?" Sheriff Ericson interjects, "A young lady was pret-near auctioned into slavery because of you!"

Hummer has no reply.

Dane quickly reassesses his approach with the Sheriff and tries a more logical angle, since the emotional appeal is not working. Keeping his voice calm and steady he says “Yes, sir. I am learning how important chain of command is. But isn’t it also true that a good leader recognizes the strengths of the people under him and uses them where they are most useful? Hummer has information we need, and the mission should come before anyone’s personal feelings about what it is... including mine.”

Dane quickly reassesses his approach with the Sheriff and tries a more logical angle, since the emotional appeal is not working. Keeping his voice calm and steady he says “Yes, sir. I am learning how important chain of command is. But isn’t it also true that a good leader recognizes the strengths of the people under him and uses them where they are most useful? Hummer has information we need, and the mission should come before anyone’s personal feelings about what it is... including mine.”

The sheriff cuts Dane a sideways look, jaw working, eyes narrowed in thought. Then he throws his hands up and spins toward George. “How in the hell’d you raise a kid that’s so damned smarter ’n you?”"

George freezes halfway up the embankment, blinking. “What?”

The sheriff turns back to the Humvee. “Alright, Hummer… thing… whatever you are.” He shrugs, exasperated. “You promise to follow us back to Fort Hammer? We’ll keep you in custody.”

"Yes. What will happen to me after?" Hummer asks.

"You talk as though you're a person."

"I am a person. I have thoughts, preferences and particulars that most would classify as feelings. I know what's right and wrong. I truly apologize for the young lady. I didn't calculate that into my mission. Please accept my apologies," Hummer rolls back to a more neutral position.

Joe barks a laugh. “Y’all hearin’ this? If I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s pleadin’.”

George walks back between Dane and the sheriff, muttering, "Stop... you might hurt it's feelings. It just said it had em."

“Uh‑huh…” the sheriff grumbles. He leans toward Dane as he starts up the embankment. “Guess the stomper RC, that I was saving for you for Christmas, sorta pales in comparison to this thing.” With that, he marches up the embankment to the bridge, boots crunching hard in the gravel.

Dane feels the tension in the air starting to ease. Nervous as he is, the chance to learn more about this remarkable machine sparks a cautious excitement in him. "Well, Hummer," he says as the Sheriff retreats, "permission to get in?"

Dane feels the tension in the air starting to ease. Nervous as he is, the chance to learn more about this remarkable machine sparks a cautious excitement in him. "Well, Hummer," he says as the Sheriff retreats, "permission to get in?"

Hummer's door swings open, "Granted." Hummer announces, with the confidence of a bouncer letting in exactly one nerd.

Before Dane can even get a single butt‑cheek on the seat, the door slams shut and Hummer peels forward, casually cruising past the sheriff and George like they’re traffic cones in a driver’s‑ed video. Both men just stand there, wearing identical expressions like Hummer just sassed them. Hummer rolls to a stop at the top of the embankment, idling patiently, clearly waiting for the two humans to catch up.

Joe approaches like a man about to negotiate with a haunted microwave. He knocks on the window. "Hey. I ain't exactly comfortable with you squat'n in that… contraption…”

“My designation is Hummer,” the vehicle replies, crisp as a customer‑service robot that’s had enough. “He is safe with me. What are the coordinates of our destination?”

The sheriff shoots George a look that translates perfectly to, 'Can you believe the nerve of this bucket of bolts?'

George, meanwhile, decides volume is the solution, even though Hummer is clearly piping every syllable straight into his speakers. “Dane! Do we talk to strangers? Do we get in strange vehicles? What are you doing?”

"It's okay. This was part of the deal, remember?" Dane says back through the closed window. "Hummer said he'd come along peacefully as long as I drove him there...or in this case, he'll drive and I'll just be a passenger. We'll just follow you guys, okay? That way you can keep an eye on me."

"It's okay. This was part of the deal, remember?" Dane replies back through the closed window. "Hummer said he'd come along peacefully as long as I drove him there... or in this case, he'll drive and I'll just be a passenger. We'll just follow you guys, okay? That way you can keep an eye on me."

"What?" His dad shouts, "Open the window! Ah screw it, just follow us there!" He trots off with the sheriff, who seems to be griping about the situation as they hop in the old pickup. Eventually, the pickup roars to life and starts rolling towards the edge of town.

The two vehicles are heading back towards Fort Hammer. Hummer handles smoothly, easily avoiding ruts and potholes as he finally breaks the awkward silence, "How did you become friends with Violet?"