Psyche OS X

It’s only a matter of time before a fic similar to this one comes up on the internet somewhere, but I was dying to show off my love of writing, and I haven’t really written a WALL-E fic yet. So this is my first one so far. :slight_smile: I’ve written a Ratatouille one, but that one amounts to nearly 400 pages and will not be showing up on the net anytime soon due to the fact that it contains many original ideas.

Please take your time reading it; don’t feel like you have to rush through it. There is a lot to read here and my writing can get very in-depth - you wouldn’t want to miss a detail. :stuck_out_tongue: Enjoy everyone! Please feel free to comment.


Author’s Note:
Ideas like this don’t come by me very often. My brain is constantly swimming with thousands of possible story ideas, but this one is one out of an elite few that actually impact me in ways unexplainable. All of the characters in this story - whether already copywrighted or made up by myself - mean something to me; I can relate to them all in one way or another. In this chapter, you’ll see me in the character of EVE.

Although I am living a pretty good life overall, sometimes I feel like there’s more than what I know - how do I obtain it? How do I excell, how do I climb higher, how do I reach that higher standard that I believe exists? I get frustrated in not knowing how to acheive what I strive for, and EVE undergoes a struggle similar to this in the first chapter. Hopefully, you’ll be able to get into my mind a little bit in reading about this amazing character.

Chapter One

 The bright summer sun beat down on Brandon McCrea's already strained back as he knelt in the dirt, pressing seeds into the ground. He loved every second of his work, no matter how difficult or trying it may be. Ever since he learned the definition of "farming", he knew it was what he was meant to do; and he never looked back to wish he were still the captain of the [i]Axiom[/i]. To see these tiny seeds push up out of the soil and burst into leaves was a miracle he never ceased to stand in awe of. After only two years back on Earth, plant life flourished; and most credited it to Former Captain of the [i]Axiom[/i], Brandon L. McCrea, and his love of farming.

 As he wiped his sweaty brow and leaned over to take a sip of water, he heard a gentle humming noise beside him, followed by the whirr of a noisy engine. Turning his eyes up, he smiled to see two of his favorite friends standing at his side.

 "Hey, WALL•E," he excitedly said, standing to his feet, "you think you can help me water these seeds? It's a big stretch of land, and it'll probably take me an hour or more to do it myself."

 WALL•E's hydraulic eyebrows bounced up in excitement, and with enthusiasm he took a hose into his metal hands. McCrea turned a knob, and out of the hose flowed fresh water from the river just outside where WALL•E's truck still stood. As the two walked along the rows of freshly-planted seeds, EVE contently looked on to watch them. She giggled and smiled as WALL•E lost control of the hose, and it sprayed water everywhere as it lay on the ground. The little robot wheeled backwards, frightened, and McCrea laughed at the sight.

 That rusty little robot seemed so content here - maybe that's only because he had lived here on Earth all his life. The humans had adapted quickly as well and loved this forgotten world that they now worked together to resucitate. Why was it taking EVE so long to adjust?

 "Hey, EVE," McCrea said, jolting the probe out of her daze. "You okay?"

 EVE blinked, and her eyes snapped to the sight of McCrea and WALL•E standing in front of her.

 "Eeeva?" WALL•E softly wondered, as if in conjunction with McCrea's question. He clasped his hands together and sadly stared up at her. For a moment, she simply stared at the two blankly. Then she shook her head and turned away, hoping to keep them from asking any more questions.

 [i]I'm okay, really.[/i]

 "Maybe she feels left out," McCrea finally reasoned, mostly to himself. He pointed toward a small house nearby. "You could go see if Mary could use your help with the kids. You know how much they love you being there."

 EVE couldn't argue with that; she loved those rosy-cheeked toddlers as much as they loved her. On any given occasion, the children would crowd around the sleek robot and beg her to sing a gentle tune in that crystalline robotic voice of hers. They loved the way she would tenderly run her magnetic fingers through their thick hair, and they were eased to sleep by the soft humming of the magnetic currents running through her body. Without hesitation, she took McCrea's advice and flew swiftly through the air until she reached the home of John and Mary Newman - the first couple to be wed on Earth after the [i]Axiom[/i] returned them home - and their five small children.

 The smallest one, a dark-haired, blue-eyed two year-old named Haley, ran to the door after hearing EVE ring the doorbell.

 "Mommy!" she cried. "EVE's here!"

 At the mention of their favorite robot companion, the other four raced into the entryway to greet her. Mary laughed at the children's reaction as she opened the door for EVE to come in.

 "Are you gonna come play catch with us?" a dark-skinned boy named Lewis asked EVE.

 "Yeah, we gots a new ball for our birthdays!" cried another boy named Daley. EVE laughed in amusement with their excitement, and she immediately led them back outside to play a game of catch. Mary peeked out the window to see the kids having a blast together with EVE.

 "Who needs to pay a babysitter when you've got her?" she giggled to herself, turning around to finish the dishes. "She would have made such an excellent mother if she were a human."

“If only you were human…”

EVE reviewed what Mary had told her earlier over and over as she hovered alone beside the abandoned supership. When it had been said, EVE only took it as simply a sweet comment. But now that she was alone with her thoughts, those words were having a new effect on her.

Being a human was never anything she had wanted before; after all, she was a robot - built to scan for favorable conditions on Earth so the humans could return from space and come home again. That had been her directive. But now that her directive had been completed, what was left for her to do aside from providing company for WALL•E, McCrea, and M-O and babysitting Mary’s children?

Of course, she offered extensive help to the humans in their rebuilding processes; so did many of the other robots who were out of service. However, those other bots seemed fine with the fact that they were no longer doing what they were built for. EVE, on the other hand, was slowly becoming frustrated without a clear directive.

At the same time, there were so many advantages of being a robot. She was water- and bullet-proof, ran on a high-capacity lithium battery powered by solar rays, and she could zoom through the air with top speeds peaking at almost 2,000 MPH. Plus, she had captured the litte robot heart of WALL•E - and he would never be able to imagine his world without “Eva” in it.

McCrea had noticed her from a distance and now slowly approached her. She never seemed to notice the sound of his feet shuffling through the grass.

“You sure you’re okay?” he softly asked, taking a seat beside the discouraged probe. EVE gave a low hum.

Not really.

McCrea twiddled his fingers. “There’s… not really any way you can tell me what’s up, huh?”

EVE wanted to scream at the words. If only I were human…! At least I could communicate!

In her frustration, she broke into a frenzy of distressed blips and screeches, waving her arms as she frantically zipped back and forth. How else was she supposed to express that feeling of anger and discontent that welled up in her whenever she thought about not being a human? At least they could express their emotions in a way that others understood!

“Whoa, whoa!” McCrea exclaimed, taking a hold of her glass arm to stop her. “Settle down, there! It’s okay!”

EVE’s eyes drooped. No, it’s not! You don’t understand!

“Look, I want to help you, all right?” he continued, lifting her head to look her in the eye. EVE closed her eyes, just wanting to break into a lake of tears. “We can work this out - whatever you’re going through.”

Slowly, EVE turned away, gently pushing McCrea’s loving hand aside.

Thanks for your help… but it’s not enough.

McCrea wasn’t sure what to say. There wasn’t any other way to get to the root of the problem besides communication. He wondered why EVE was experiencing such deep emotions in the first place. Wasn’t she just a robot?

That’s exactly what he had thought of WALL•E the first time he met the garbage bot. But he soon realized that there was so much more depth to that robot than he had first imagined. Maybe WALL•E had somehow “taught” EVE these human-like emotions, but her computer couldn’t quite handle them in the same way that WALL•E’s could. After all, she was a robot without a heart or soul. A mere computer processor couldn’t correctly compute human emotions, although she had imagined it would be able to.

He brought himself out of thought when he noticed EVE hovering away, her head hung and her arms low at her sides.

“EVE!” he called, but she never turned around. “Wha… where are you going?!”

She ignored him as she glided over the ground. I won’t suffer these horrible feelings any longer, she decided, stopping just outside of WALL•E’s truck; knowing well that he was not in it.

With one last glance at the sun setting on the horizon, she placed herself at the door of the truck and began punching in a code on her keypad.

“EVE, what are you doing?!” McCrea frantically cried, running up the road towards the truck. He stopped and stood still, not quite sure why she was doing this. “Stop that! You could re-program yourself for all we know, and I don’t know how to fix you!”

EVE paused, looking up to glare at him. She let out a sharp beep. Shut up! Leave me alone!

“EVE, please!” McCrea pleaded, stumbling towards her. “Don’t do this!

But it was too late. Before his eyes, the frightened man watched EVE Probe1 as she egged up and shut down, landing solidly on the ground with a loud clank.

For several horrific moments, he could only stand still and hold his breath, hoping that he was only dreaming.

No, no, no! he thought with panic. He waved his hand in front of her blank screen, gulping down the lumps in his throat.

“EVE…?” he cautiously said. He pushed her, but instead of her automatic magnetic system keeping her suspended in the air, she began to tip over. McCrea was quick to catch her before her glass body hit the ground, even though she weighed well over 180 pounds. “No, please don’t be dead!”

Thoughts began racing through his mind. How do I turn her back on? Is it even possible? Maybe AUTO would know how to do it…

He rethought that. Wait. AUTO has been relieved of duty and shut off for almost two years. Maybe… just maybe… I might be able to get him working again…

It was worth a shot, anyways. And it was McCrea’s last hope.

You have a very good writing style here. Hopefully you will be able to get some of your original ideas published someday…

-C-3PO

Nice job…i felt rather rushed through some of the thought processing but the amount of description and developements make it great. I like how you incorperated a robot’s feeling towards being human…they would feel depressed.

Review 8.5/10

Amazing beginning to it! It really gripped me to EVE and her deep emotions. Can’t wait to read what happens next.

C-3PO: I’m actually in the middle of writing a novel that may possibly meet the press one of these days. :laughing: But with my horrid habit of procrastination, it hasn’t been touched for a good 6 months now… :blush:

Al-Bob: I’m not sure I understand what you meant when you said “rushed.” :confused: Was it hard to read or was it just TMI at one time? It’s not really anything I can change - that’s just my writing style.

bright dot-dasher: Chapter 2 was supposed to get started on today, but I was way too busy taking down Christmas decorations and cleaning the house LOL. :unamused: (Christmas lingers in our home… haha)

I know what you mean. You hear about procrastination more with creative people it seems, although maybe that’s because they are procrastinating on a project they are working on. Apparently, I heard that Andrew Stanton started writing WALL•E while procrastinating about re-writes for Finding Nemo.

Anyway, if you’re still interested in what you’re working on, odds are, you’ll come back to it. This happens with me all the time… I have a project that at the time I thought would take two months. It’s now almost two years, and I’m still not done writing it. But, I have been doing other stuff in between, so I just keep on coming back to it when I can. It’s when you have an actual deadline to meet, that procrastination can become a real major problem.

(As for the Christmas lingering thing, it’s still like that here - every single year it’s the same, but, it’s kind of fun in a way…:smiley:)

-C-3PO

I only have the first part of Chapter 2 fully written right now. I’m thinking that this one will be divided into three parts. Enjoy the first one for now… :slight_smile:

Author’s Note:
Loyalty is a quality I see in Captain McCrea. At the beginning of the movie, we see him living a complacent life just like the other humans, but once he realizes his calling, his true colors come out. You know from the moment he hears the defintion of “Earth”, something was awakened in him. The words “We have to go back” convey a sense of new purpose, and all he wants is to bring his passengers safely home where they can begin a new life.

And so his loyalty carries on, even in his new life on Earth. The same robots who showed him what life was about are now his closest companions, and after EVE shuts herself down, he feels responsible for her. He wants to make sure that she gets turned on again - for her sake and for the sake of poor WALL•E as well.

Chapter 2
Part One

McCrea struggled to drag EVE’s heavy body through the abandoned corridors and pathways of the Axiom until he finally reached the Bridge Lobby, where a large typing bot used to be stationed to open the elevator door to the ship’s bridge. McCrea gently lowered EVE to the floor and cautiously crept over to the large control panel with hundreds of buttons on it. Somewhere on the panel, he knew that the code to access the elevator was stamped in case of a malfunction with the typing bot. When he found it, he punched it in and the elevator came to life again. Soon enough, McCrea was welcomed back into the familiar large room that now sat still and silent.

He tiptoed into the room, placed EVE against a wall, and clapped twice. Instantly, control panels and monitors lit up, and a gentle hum began to echo through the empty room. Soft light from the setting sun streamed in from the large windows, and it almost seemed strange; for every time McCrea had looked out that window, all he had seen were the glistening stars and blackness of outer space.

And there, in the middle of the room - just like it had always been - was the long-forgotten AUTO; who hung unmoving from the ceiling. That eerily prosaic red light no longer glowed steadily from his only lens. McCrea tried to give a spin of the wheel, but it was locked into place.

Axiom Bridge running on emergency power,” the ship’s computer announced, giving McCrea a small jump. “Twenty minutes remain.”

McCrea broke into a sweat. Only twenty minutes?! How am I supposed to get AUTO turned on and EVE fixed in that short of a time?!

“AUTO,” he cried. Maybe it took a voice command. “AUTO, no joking around. Wake up. It’s the Captain!”

Nothing.

“Come on, AUTO!” McCrea groaned, slamming his fist into the lens of the robot. “I really need your help! Power on!”

As he stared at the motionless robot, he remembered that small control panel on the column where he had switched the machine from auto to manual. He stood on his tiptoes, reached up to flip the panel open, and noticed that the bottom row of buttons were still lit. One of them read, REBOOT.

“Ha, ha!” McCrea cried, shoving his finger into the button. “Gotcha!”

A low whirring noise rumbled from the robot, and McCrea stood back to watch AUTO as he slowly came back to life.

And that red glow in AUTO’s lens slowly intensified.

For a few moments, the robot only stared at the nervous former captain, who was standing directly in front of him.

“Cap…tain?” AUTO slowly wondered. McCrea nearly dropped to the floor in relief.

“Ohh, thank God you’re working!” he cried. He frantically dragged EVE over to AUTO and held her up the best he could. “EVE’s shut herself down, and I don’t know if there’s a way to turn her back on.”

AUTO paused, processing the words. He scanned the probe to identify her, then reached down with one of his robotic “hands” and typed in a code on EVE’s keypad. But as he did so, none of the buttons lit up like they were supposed to. When the robot realized that it hadn’t worked, he prodded EVE’s reboot button.

Nothing happened. AUTO looked up at McCrea.

“Probe is not responding,” he stated in that flat, computerized voice of his. “Operating system needs replacement.”

McCrea felt the color draining from his face. No, he couldn’t do that. If he did, all of the memories stored in EVE’s computer would be wiped, and as far as he knew, there was no way to retrieve them.

“Well, is there any way to transfer the information on her hard drive to another probe or something?” McCrea wondered.

“Negative, Captain,” AUTO seriously replied. “All probes are currently out of service.” McCrea rubbed his forehead.

“What else am I supposed to do?!” he blew up at the emotionless autopilot. “What’s WALL•E going to think when I tell him that EVE’s gone?” He whirled back around to face AUTO. “There has to be something I can do; or… or something you can do!”

AUTO gave a spin of his wheel and used a hydraulic arm to open a small panel on EVE, then whipped out his taser and aimed it over the open panel.

“No!” McCrea shouted, grabbing a hold of AUTO before he could make any move. “You can’t do that! You’ll ruin her!”

“No further actions are applicable,” AUTO flatly answered him, retracting his taser. “Probe must be sent to the Repair Ward for extensive work.”

“But nothing on the Axiom is working, AUTO!” McCrea angrily retorted. “Yeah, I’m just gonna lug this heavy, empty shell all the way downstairs and ask an inactive robot to help me! Sure, that’ll work!”

“Ten minutes of emergency power remain,” the ship’s computer said from the other side of the room. McCrea almost felt like crying, he was so desperate.

Just leave her here, he told himself. Maybe AUTO will come up with something in the meantime. For now, just work on putting together how you’re going to tell WALL•E about this…

“Look,” he seriously told AUTO, “I’m leaving EVE here. I’ll open up the solar panels so the Axiom can recharge, but I want you to figure out how to fix her. Got that?”

AUTO saluted. “Aye, aye, sir.”

McCrea walked to the ship’s control panel and activated the solar panels, even though the sun had already set. He programmed the computer to start up the next morning at sunrise and wake AUTO after it had gained sufficient charge. Before getting back on the elevator, he turned and gave one sad glance back at EVE, who was lying on the ground in front of AUTO.

“I’ll come back and check on you,” he promised the non-functional probe, although he knew she couldn’t hear him. “And I’ll tell WALL•E that you loved him.”

With those words, McCrea left AUTO alone with EVE as the elevator doors closed and he disappeared from AUTO’s sight. The robot looked back down at EVE on the floor and reached for her control panel again, typing in another code. It still wasn’t working. With a blip that sounded not unlike a groan, AUTO moved EVE to a corner of the bridge and placed her against the wall. He then returned to his default post, pressed a button on the control panel, and shut off the emergency power of the Axiom.

Hmmm…maybe i can unload on this thing…

IMO your story reminded me of my first story (Droid Revenge) where the storyline is a fast exciting thrill ride. I love those kinds of stories because it keeps the reader on their toes and never leaves them quiet. In your instance i can’t see it…IMO Walle should never be sped up like The Incredibles and that is what i felt like…i like your story…i think it has great storyline, ideas…but the speed at which you relate it reminds me of The Incredibles. In the end its just TMI for a Walle movie…if it continues then i will probably grasp the idea of a fast paced walle but for now it will be hard to recognize the slow, detailed, and glorious movie that i enjoy called Walle get turned into a fast paced adventure story.

so

I will probably learn to like it more later but for now it will cause some problems just for me…
Please continue…i still think it has great potential and is a worthy candidate for a Walle Adventure. Keep it up…

This work wasn’t meant to be an action/adventure in the first place, if that was what you were wondering. In my works, I always use this “moment by moment” feel for just about everything I write. It helps the reader to grasp every second and not get lost somewhere, wondering “okay, what did that have to do with anything??” What I am trying to do in this particular section of the story is convey McCrea’s strong feeling of desperation at this point in time.

But don’t worry… all of this goes somewhere. (That’s another thing about my writing style… you may not understand what any of it means while you’re reading it, but it is clarified when everything’s said and done). I promise. :slight_smile:

Another thing about me is this: never expect the norm in my writing. You can ask JesusFreak about this; he’s been reading my work for over a year now. I’m not the person who likes everything to happen the way everyone expects it to happen. So when you think WALL-E fic, you’re obviously thinking of a slow-paced love story or something like that. I’m gonna change things up and throw people for a loop in this story. :wink:

Don’t get me wrong: I completely understand what you’re saying. It’s good to hear opinion and criticism, and I am completely open to it. Good criticism helps an author grow.

I need to ask your opinion on something though before I close: do you think it would be a good idea to add some author’s notes or something at the beginning to let people know my intentions for this story?

I genuinely thank you for giving me your thoughts. It helps me to put myself in the reader’s mind, because I usually have a very hard time doing that. :unamused: And I will definitely keep writing… I have lots of ideas for this story. (Hopefully, we can all pray it doesn’t get too long… another one of my faults…)

Sincerely,
little chef

Have you read my Second Self story? That really threw me for a loop, and I WROTE the thing!

Masterweaver: Yes I have read your fic, and I really liked it. :wink: keep on writing - you have potential! Yes, it is so strange when you write something, look back at it, and think… “Wow… I actually wrote that???!!:laughing:

But to stay on-topic, I’d really appreciate reviews/encouragement for my fic. Thanks, guys. :smiley: … off to watching WALL•E on Blu-ray now…!

little chef

I can’t wait to read what happens next! I hope AUTO doesn’t ruin EVE!

haha… no no no he won’t. LOL. :smiley: It has to do with the story… which I TRIED to work on today, but to no avail. :stuck_out_tongue: It only gained a sentence or so… :blush: Haha…

But like I said, all of this goes somewhere, so please be patient! You all will understand what’s going to happen soon enough. :wink:

Wow…i liked the second chapter there…great job on making the tension of time running out seem real. I felt rushed…

Review-Lets hope eve gets fixed soon…9/10

Author’s Note:
It’s hard to let go after something bad happens. For McCrea, it’s hard to let go of the fact that he can’t do anything to help EVE, but at the same time, he knows that he needs to get on with his life and move on. AUTO will handle things…

A little miracle happens in this chapter; something that McCrea desperately needed to help him get through that hard time; though he didn’t think that it was exactly what he needed. Although his life has gone through many changes, this change was by far the best thing that ever happened to him…

Chapter 2
Part Two

The next day as McCrea finished up planting in his field, he found himself constantly worrying about EVE. No matter what he tried to do, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. After all, they had been good friends, and she was always so willing to help him out. They had become close over the two years spent on Earth. Now she was gone, and he felt as if he had lost another part of him.

He was dwelling on these thoughts when he noticed a pair of eyes spying on him from the other end of the field. They were hiding behind a tall corn stalk, poking out every so often, and they disappeared again when McCrea looked up at them.

Who the heck…?

“Who’s there?” he called, climbing to his feet and slowly inching towards the corn. He knew it wasn’t a robot, for a small head of blonde hair gave the fact away that it was a child. McCrea paused, letting the child take the initiative to come out again. “Come out, come out… wherever you are…”

Those bright green eyes emerged again, and McCrea thought he saw a grin on the hiding child’s cheek. He chuckled to himself.

He wants to play, he thought.

McCrea hid behind another stalk of corn, but a couple moments after he did, he could hear the child giggling.

“I can still see you,” the little boy teased. McCrea looked back and noticed that all of his body didn’t quite fit completely behind the thin stalk. Even though he had lost a considerable amount of weight since his inactivity on the Axiom, he was still quite chubby. He came out from behind his hiding spot and saw the small boy standing in the open, now seeming unafraid to approach the man older than him.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked the boy, who in return, shyly stepped back and hung his head.

“I was… just watching you,” he replied. “And I like hiding in your field.”

McCrea cocked his head, smiling. “Well, you wanna come watch me do some planting?”

The boy’s eyes sparkled, and he ran over to join McCrea as he knelt back in the dirt to finish planting his seeds.

“You really like planting stuff, huh?” he told McCrea, who smiled at the words.

“Farming is my life, little guy,” he proudly replied. “It’s really an amazing process, if you think about it. I mean, these little round things called seeds,” he held some up for the boy to see, “grow up to be plants and vegetables.”

As he explained all of this to the child, he demonstrated with his seeds.

“You make a hole in the ground and drop the seeds inside. Then, you cover them back up and give them just a little bit of water. After a couple days or so, they’ll open up underground, grow up against gravity, and pop out of the soil to meet the sun; and eventually, they become tall ears of corn or heads of broccoli!” McCrea became more enthusiastic as he carried on, and he climbed to his feet and waved his hand across the field. “Everything that’s needed to make all the plants you see here is contained inside these tiny seeds.”

The child was fascinated with McCrea’s passion for farming. “Do you think you could teach me how, too?”

McCrea was thrilled. “Of course; there’s nothing hard about it. You just gotta give me a name to call you by… I mean, it’d be kind of hard to have an assistant and not know his name, right?”

The little boy giggled. “I’m Morgan.” McCrea extended his hand.

“Well, I’m Brandon McCrea,” he replied as Morgan grabbed his hand for a shake. “You can call me whatever you want.” Morgan let out another excited giggle.

“Uncle McCrea,” he said to himself, almost breathlessly, as if he were uttering a sacred name. McCrea tousled the boy’s thick blonde hair.

“You’re a keeper,” he laughed, leading him to the last strip of field that needed to be planted. Once they had stopped, McCrea took the boy by the shoulders and looked him in the eye with a sincere smile. “Hope ya don’t mind me calling you Mo.”

Morgan furrowed his brow. “Mo…?”

“Yeah, short for Morgan,” McCrea explained.

Morgan never seemed to mind. They were both happy with their own nicknames for each other. “Uncle McCrea” and “Mo” hit it off from the start; and even at the young age of three, McCrea had helped to develop in Morgan a love for farming.

The child had been in and out of different families since he was an infant - which was immediately after the landing of the Axiom - and thus never lived a stable life in a home. But he and McCrea both knew from the moment they began working together in the field that he wasn’t going anywhere ever again. He and Uncle McCrea were together forever.

Sounds nice…cute little boy. :smiley:

Review…loved the interaction and the bond that you created between the two…9/10

Time to get my thoughts in here…

I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t read any other post-WALL-E fanfics yet, but I really enjoyed these first two chapters! As I was reading through, all sorts of possible plots popped into my head. And with the way the story’s going, I see amazing potential! (little chef, I think I already said that to you. :stuck_out_tongue:) It excites me just as much as Small Miracles (I’m humbled to be one of the few to read it…MWAHAHAHAHA! :smiling_imp: ), if not more. I can’t wait to see the other robots from the movie, if you plan on including them at some point. :stuck_out_tongue:

And no, I’m not just saying that because your my friend. I am genuinely enjoying it so far. :smiley:

JF: Well, it’s about to get better…!

There’s a lot to read here, guys…

Chapter 2
Part Three

The last of McCrea’s three favorite robot friends, a small cleaning bot known by all as M-O, sat in a state of inactivity in the far corner of McCrea’s living room.

But although his processor was in sleep mode, his computer brain was still running as hard as ever.

It was turning up images and video captures from the microbe obliterator’s small hard drive, and each clip was exactly like the last one - images of WALL•E entering the room at any given time, seeing the levels of contamination rise… and then…

FOREIGN CONTAMINANT,” came the hollow computerized voice. Over and over again it would repeat. No matter where M-O looked, everything and everyone on this new planet was not exempt of the dreaded foreign contaminant.

All afternoon the images and sounds haunted him. A series of beeps resounded in his mind, the ones he always heard… just before that message reappeared…

FOREIGN CONTAMINANT…

He recalled stepping on Earth for the first time, and how it had never bothered him then. Maybe that’s because he and his posse of reject bots were so concerned about WALL•E at that point, and he had hardly noticed. But as soon as they learned that their garbage bot friend was all right, and as soon as things on Earth began to settle down, M-O would look around at the vast expanses of land… and all over the place he’d see…

FOREIGN CONTAMINANT…

He couldn’t take it anymore! Wake up, wake up, wake up!!! he frantically commanded himself. I’ve had enough! I don’t want to see that stupid message… ever… again…!

His eyes snapped open, and still in a bit of a panic, he quickly looked around the room to make sure things were clean.

Sighing in relief, he relaxed a bit. Ahh. Everything is clean. Just as it’s supposed to be.

That was the thing he was having a hard time with. His directive was to keep everything clean and sterile on the Axiom, where things were meant to stay perfectly crisp and pristine. That same directive didn’t seem to work as well down here on Earth, where things were just as dirty and contaminated as it came.

M-O would have been perfectly happy if someone just re-programmed him, but no one was able to get into his boxed-in world that was constantly dictated by the presence of foreign contaminants. Honestly, it was driving him insane, and he knew that if he ever stepped outside again, he would probably fry his circuits or malfunction from a sensory overload. Since he wasn’t about to take that chance, he stayed inside McCrea’s home, which was always clean.

It seemed as though humans had no problems with the foreign contaminants they encountered. When McCrea would come inside after a long day in the field, his hands, knees and feet would be covered with it; yet he never seemed to care. If humans could deal with being contaminated so well, then M-O wondered if being human gave them an advantage.

They don’t look around and see stupid messages flashing in their minds, he angrily thought. If only I were human… then I wouldn’t have to put up with this any longer!

He looked up when he noticed WALL•E coming through the door, looking hopeless and extremely upset. The garbage bot took off his dirty treads and wheeled slowly towards the living room, stopping in front of M-O, who in return eyed him in his dirt-covered state.

FOREIGN CONTAMINANT,” came the message once again. M-O narrowed his eyes and whipped out his roller brush. Usually, WALL•E hated being cleaned and would try and escape, but right now he sat still and silent as M-O worked frantically to scrub the robot clean.

“M-O,” WALL•E managed, causing the small bot to stop his work. The garbage bot pointed toward the front door, giving a sad sigh. “Eeeva.”

M-O cocked his head. “Huh?”

WALL•E wasn’t sure how to explain to M-O what McCrea had told him about EVE. He shut his lenses, tucked in his arms and boxed up, demonstrating inactivity.

A human would have never guessed what this meant, but M-O understood completely. He slowly wheeled away from WALL•E.

“Eeva?” he sadly wondered. WALL•E reappeared and sighed again. None of them knew why this had happened. EVE loved them both - why would she just leave them like that? They promised each other that they would always be there for the other. WALL•E could only think of one explanation.

“Dir…ec…tive?” he guessed. He remembered well when EVE went into that same unresponsive state after she had found the plant that brought them all home. M-O didn’t know what his friend was talking about; instead, when he heard the word “directive”, his little robot instinct brought his attention back to the work at hand.

FOREIGN CONTAMINANT…

M-O was angry with this by now. He was ready to tear himself apart or something - anything that would rid him of this ever-present message…

Aaaaaiiiiieeee!!!” he screeched, zipping around in circles madly. WALL•E was a bit frightened by the little bot’s sudden outburst, and he clasped his metal hands together in nervousness. M-O ended up colliding with the wall in his frenzy, and he sank to the floor in defeat.

If only EVE were still here… she’d probably know how to program me!!!

WALL•E cautiously approached his friend. “M-O…?” he wondered.

M-O was despondent. In case you were wondering, I’m not okay.

As this was happening, McCrea came through the doors with Morgan, and the two of them noticed the robots in the living room. McCrea knew something was up when he saw M-O on the floor.

“Guys, what’s going on?” he asked. WALL•E looked up sadly at McCrea and gave a desperate moan.

“M-O,” he replied, pointing to the cleaning bot on the floor.

Morgan looked alarmed. “Is he dead?” he gulped.

McCrea shook his head. “Naw, he’s just having some issues.” He nudged M-O. “Hey, buddy. What’s going on?”

M-O slammed his brush on the floor over and over again, breaking out into a rapid set of angry blips. It appeared as though he were a toddler throwing a tantrum. McCrea was clueless as to M-O’s reason for all of this.

“Look, I can’t help you if you don’t settle down!” he cried. M-O didn’t reply. This time he was quiet.

If I could actually communicate, then maybe I could tell you my problem! I can’t take this anymore…!

McCrea didn’t like M-O’s silence. “Hey, M-O, you okay?”

WALL•E was getting nervous as well, and sensing the mood, so was Morgan. All three hovered over the microbe obliterator, calling his name in hopes that he would wake up and snap out of it.

Closing his little robotic eyes, M-O commanded himself to enter a deep hibernation mode, which would cease computer activity and hopefully keep any stored memories from turning up in his sleep. It wasn’t a complete shut off of power, like what EVE had done to herself; he could wake up whenever he chose to. But at least in this state, he wouldn’t be haunted with reminders of foreign contaminants.

Chapter Three

Life on Earth was being recreated, but almost as if by instinct, the humans who had returned knew exactly what to do to make life flourish on the planet all over again. In their first year on Earth, they worked on clearing out the rest of the garbage via an ingenious method of cubing it and then later burning it. The ashes left over were buried into the ground and actually served as a fertilizer for the plants that were proliferated across the expanses of land.

In the second year, buildings were refurbished and new homes were built. People learned to love again; couples married and families grew. Many took robots that were out of service into their homes as “pets”, since those bots had nowhere else to go.

By the fifth year, the population had almost doubled, and people began to spread themselves across the country once again. People revived such things as cars and airplanes which enhanced travel across the country. When the airplane was flown across the ocean for the first time in nearly 800 years, the passengers onboard quickly discovered that the Axiom wasn’t the only ship that had returned to Earth. There had been a series of other ships carrying passengers from other countries, and since those ships’ networks were linked, they all hyperjumped back home when the plant was placed in the Axiom’s holo-detector. International trade was quickly rebirthed, and people began traveling back and forth overseas to help other countries in their rebuilding processes.

Ten years after McCrea had taken in little Morgan, they were both making serious profits in their agricultural business. McCrea’s small 1-acre field had turned into 7 acres with the help of several investors and other farmers. Pretty soon, McCrea was hiring people to work in his fields; and before he knew it, his 7-acre field was 20 acres and was bought out by a huge corporation. McCrea and Morgan were respected as the founders of the business and were given a good percentage of the profits it received.

But while all this was happening, as these ten years slipped by, the Axiom was still left abandoned. AUTO was programmed to turn on every morning, but each morning he awoke, he would search in vain for his captain or even a passenger. But no one was there.

And EVE still sat untouched in the same corner of the Axiom Bridge.

One misty evening in late May, Morgan returned home and was greeted by WALL•E, who seemed overly excited about something.

“What’s your problem?” Morgan muttered. WALL•E bounced up and down, pointing to the living room.

“M-O!” he cried. Morgan’s eyes grew wide. Did he mean that M-O had woken up?! WALL•E grabbed Morgan’s hand and dragged him into the other room to see.

Sure enough, there was M-O groggily moving in circles across the room. In his hibernation mode, he had drained almost all of his battery power and was now attempting to recharge himself. He did this by simply moving around - he was powered by kinetic energy emitted by the movement of his roller ball. When he saw WALL•E and Morgan standing there to greet him, he zoomed over to them; just as happy to see them.

“Uncle McCrea!” Morgan cried, turning his head to the kitchen. “M-O’s awake!”

McCrea left the pot of boiling potatoes on the burner and raced into the living room. M-O happily bounced around, glad to be awake and powered up. McCrea laughed.

“Well, it’s about time!” he exclaimed. M-O lifted his “hands” towards McCrea as if asking for a hug, and McCrea easily picked him up and squeezed him. “Aww, thank God you’re okay!”

WALL•E looked up, tilting his head. “Eeva?”

McCrea, Morgan and M-O both looked down at the garbage bot, almost as if they had forgotten who “Eva” was. At that moment, McCrea wanted to facepalm himself when he realized what WALL•E was hinting… he had forgotten about EVE!

“Dang you, Uncle McCrea,” Morgan cried. “You promised you’d get her fixed a long time ago!” McCrea put M-O down and rubbed his forehead.

“I know,” he moaned, “but I’ve been so busy with the farming business that I must have forgotten a long time ago!”

Morgan folded his arms. “Yeah, kind of like how you forgot about the stuff cooking in the kitchen.”

“Aww, shoot!” McCrea cried, running like mad towards the kitchen. The potatoes had boiled over, and the starchy residue stuck fast to the burner. The casserole in the oven had dried out and was burning around the edges, and the only thing that was still okay were some mixed vegetables on the opposite burner.

Morgan came in behind McCrea. “I can’t wait for supper,” he sarcastically said as he peeked into the oven.

“I don’t think I can save any of it,” McCrea groaned. He finished wiping up the stove, pulled the burned casserole from the oven and dumped out the mushy potatoes. “I can put the peas in a container to eat tomorrow night. But it looks like we’ll have to grab something to eat in town.”

Morgan let out a smile. “We can make it a special night tonight,” he said, trying to make McCrea feel better. Luckily, it brought a smile out of his “uncle”.

“Why not?” McCrea agreed. “Go get your shoes on. I’ll be ready in a couple minutes.”


Young adults slowly spilled out of a crowded house and drowsily trodded towards their vehicles after the host had announced the words everyone dreaded to hear: “The party’s over!”

A group of five friends, two of them girls and the other three guys, were still laughing and joking together as they tumbled down the doorsteps. Their driver, a twenty-one year-old named Keenan, was completely drunk, along with another boy named Liam and his girlfriend Monica. The other couple happened to be more on the sober side, and they weren’t so sure about Keenan driving.

“Yo, Keen,” the last guy, a thin-framed nineteen year-old named Dallas, spoke up. “You sure you don’t want me to take the wheel, man?”

Keenan let out a loud guffaw. “Pshh! Are you kidding?! I can drive, you loser!” He ducked into the driver’s seat and started the car, and Monica and Liam climbed in with him. Dallas turned to his girlfriend and put a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m gonna sit in the seat next to Keen,” he told her. “Just to make sure things go okay.”

Rylee, his perfectly-proportioned, blonde-haired girlfriend, nodded in agreement. “Sure. I’ll be fine; I’ll sit right behind you.” The two shared a short kiss before Dallas took the passenger’s seat. Rylee sat down next to Monica, who was laughing loudly at some indistinct joke Liam had made. She could smell the alcohol on Monica’s breath, and it only reminded her of how much she had drank herself.

If only Mom and Dad knew what you’ve been up to, she scolded herself. Her parents had always warned her about drinking and partying, but now that she was far away from them, she felt that she had the choice to do what she wanted with her life. Like they’re going to figure out everything you’ve done when they live several hundred miles away…!

The car made a sudden jerk, and Liam and Monica burst into laughter. Dallas started swearing at Keenan, who kept on driving without a care in the world.

“Really, Keenan,” Rylee piped up over the blaring radio. “You need to pull over and let Dallas drive.”

But squished in the backseat, her voice wasn’t even heard over all the commotion. The three drunk ones began to sing the song on the radio at the top of their lungs, and the car drifted dangerously towards the middle of the road.

“Keenan Pierce!” Dallas screamed. “You’re gonna crash the thing!”

“Shut up!” Monica screeched. “I can’t hear the music!”

Dallas attempted to take the wheel, but Keegan grabbed his arm and shoved it away.

“Hey, I’m driving, idiot!” he yelled. Rylee kept her eyes on the road while Dallas wrestled with Keenan.

“Guys, there’s an intersection coming up!” she cried.

“Let go of me!” Dallas roared as Keenan gripped his arm. “This isn’t going to help anyone!”

“Would you quit bickering up there?” Liam lazily moaned.

“Dallas!!!” Rylee screamed. He turned around to glare at her.

“What?!” he yelled back.

Rylee pointed out the window. “The light’s red…!”

“Huh?” Keenan wondered, trying to focus on the road. But the intersection came up far too fast for his spinning mind to comprehend. As another car pulled out into the intersection, Keenan and his passengers were thrown into the other car’s passenger side.


Morgan and McCrea decided on a small Italian restaurant for their dinner that night, since neither one of them had ever tried “Italian food” before. People were rediscovering the recipes of their past, and it brought about an influx of international restaurants across the globe.

A little while after the waiter brought them bowls of spaghetti and meatballs, as well as salads and bread rolls, McCrea got up from his seat and excused himself.

“Gimme a sec,” he told Morgan. “Nature calls…”

Morgan chuckled as McCrea walked off to find the bathroom. While he was alone, he took a bite of his bread roll and noticed how plain it was. Maybe he could add things from his meal to make the bread a little more interesting.

First he took a spoonful of sauce from his spaghetti and spread it over the round slice of bread. He then sprinkled some shredded cheese over it and added a few mixed vegetables from his salad. Lastly, he decided to chop up a few meatballs and spread them over his new concoction. It actually looked delicious, especially now that the warm bread had slightly melted the cheese.

Just as he went to take a bite, McCrea came back and noticed what Morgan had been up to. He pointed to the bread.

“What’s that?” he wondered. Morgan smiled and showed him his masterpiece.

“I made it,” he proudly replied. As he took the first bite, McCrea slowly raised a finger.

“You know…” he slowly began, “…that kind of looks… a little bit like… pizza!

Morgan looked up. “You want a bite?” he asked, handing McCrea the bread. They both savored these new flavors for several seconds, and they agreed: it even tasted like what pizza was supposed to taste like!

McCrea laughed out loud and grabbed Morgan’s shoulders. “Mo, you did it! You made pizza!!!”

Some of the other customers glanced over their shoulders at the two, wondering what all the commotion was about.

“I know what we can do,” McCrea breathlessly cried. “We can start making these from home… freeze them… and then sell them!!! We could expand the business!” He hugged Morgan all over again. “Mo, you’re a genius!”

All the way home, the two talked endlessly about the different kinds of pizzas they would make. This new idea sounded so perfect! Why hadn’t they thought of it before?!

“Aren’t you glad you have me?” Morgan sweetly asked when a lull came to the conversation. McCrea lovingly glanced over at the bright thirteen year-old.

“You were probably the best thing that ever happened to me,” he replied. “I honestly don’t know where I’d be today if I hadn’t taken you in ten years ago. You’re almost like another part of me now, buddy.” Morgan grinned.

“I probably would have ended up in an orphanage or something, or maybe with some messed-up family,” he added.

“You never know what might have happened,” McCrea agreed. “But we don’t ever have to worry - you’re gonna be safe with me the rest of your-”

What in the world had just happened? The roar of a crash throbbed in McCrea’s ears, and he felt the entire vehicle fly across the road. Something went numb in his arm. The airbag blew up in his face. Letting go of the wheel, he closed his eyes and tried bracing himself just as the car stopped moving.

He quickly looked around again, realizing that his vision was clear and that he was completely conscious. The windshield was shattered in front of the him, and dust from the airbag slowly settled. For a moment he was relieved.

I’m alive!

But panic quickly set in. “Mo?!” he cried, turning to the passenger’s side. The door had caved into the vehicle and forced Morgan up against the dashboard. His face was buried in the deflating airbag. “Mo, can you hear me?!”

When Morgan didn’t respond, McCrea unbuckled himself and tried shaking him. He was completely limp.

Sweat broke out across his forehead. Maybe he’s just unconscious, he frantically told himself, gulping on sobs.

“Mo, wake up!!!” he yelled. But the boy still didn’t reply.

No, this can’t be happening!!!

“Someone help us!” he screamed, poking his head out the window. But at the same time he said this, he thought he heard someone cry for help as well.

“Rylee isn’t moving!” he heard a young man yell. “We need help!”

Awesome! It’s good to see that WALL-E hasn’t forgotten about EVE…Actually, I’m not sure how he could do that. :stuck_out_tongue: During the scene with the teenagers, I was kind of confused about what was going on, but, knowing you, I’m sure it’ll all fit together perfectly in due time. :smiley: (just curious…Where’d you get the name Rylee? :stuck_out_tongue:) Oh, and I love the facepalm reference. XD