The wooden girl stood over Valerie. Blood poured from the corners of the human girls lips, and a trembling hand reached up and clutched at the wooden girl's skirt. She was mouthing something, but the automaton couldn't make out what. It was irrelevant anyway. Junk data. The obstruction was dead. A few spells would clear away any blood that had gotten on her, and...

  She couldn't stop focusing on it. What was the girl saying? Mouthing over and over again.

  "Why."

  For one mad moment the wooden girl had the urge to explain. To say that it was her mission, Valerie had been an obstruction. But why should she say that? Such things were basic instructions. Killing her was simply the easiest way to remove the obstruction.

  And what was she still standing there? She had a mission to get on with. And explaining would be superfluous anyway, the woman was unconscious. She found that concerning, but couldn't pinpoint why. Why should it be? She'd 348 other people.

  That number bounced around inside her head. She'd killed 348 other people. And as a machine, albeit a magical one, she did not forget. In fact quite the opposite, she was designed to save an analyze each kill to improve performance later. So the memories played with perfect clarity. Each and every person she had killed.

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  The looks on their faces.

  The blood.

  The way they'd trembled, at the end. Always trembled. Always small tremors, all around the body.

  And the wooden girl screamed. Her scream was loud, and piercing, and drew a huge crowd of students and teachers. She did not understand why she was doing what she was doing. Her every action was dedicated by programming. By a long, complex series of "if then" statements designed to support her function. This was none of them.

  She did not have the tools to understand that Valerie was the first person she'd killed after becoming a person herself.

  No. Not dead yet. The wooden girl had chosen a new primary objective, above all others. Save Valerie. Valerie must live.

  "What's going on?" A professor she didn't recognize immediately demanded. She could probably call his name up from her database. Irrelevant.

  "Help her!" The wooden girl said, gesturing to Valerie.

  "Who are you talking about?"

  The wooden girl knelt down and lifted the unconscious, bleeding Valerie in her arms.

  "Her!" The wooden girl demanded.

  The professor's eyes lost focus.

  "What? I don't...what are you holding?"

  Useless. The curse was still active. Or whatever it was. These people couldn't help her. She stormed past them into the hall, the same curse frustrating her efforts giving her a chance to get away. It seemed like everyone was trying to forget the whole incident, even as she walked past them.

  Returning to base would not help. Her operators would not assist. But she knew someone who would. She marched down the hall, to an unused meeting room, and kicked the door in.

  "Help her!" She demanded, throwing Valerie down on the table in front of every single one of her targets.