And it could have been Uncharles there. Some very few variables, a few zeroes instead of ones, and this might be his manor in the distant future, on the far side of the mountains. He might be serving the tea to visitors he couldn’t even fully conceive of anymore, rattling the china until it chipped because the motors of his fingers were degrading. This was loyalty, he understood. This was a robot valet’s loyalty, and he completed two contrasting analyses of the situation using his best human-facing sophistication and decided that it was simultaneously of enormous credit to Jul’s ongoing
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