I am a sneeze away from being a Tricia Helfer fanboy
Doug and Mr. Hamilton stood at the edge of a cliff. Mr. Hamilton stood near the edge. Doug hovered a few feet away. A warm wind blew over them, bits and pieces of sand blowing in their faces.
“You know, it cannot hurt you,” Mr. Hamilton said, his back still turned to Doug as he looked over the great body of water, which contrasted spectacularly with the large amount of sand he stood in.
“Oh, I know. It is the psychosis of the whole thing. I mean...the feeling of the fall...or imaginary fall, as it is, would cause me quite a fright.”
Mr. Hamilton cleared his throat. “Indeed. You talk quite a bit, don't you, Doug.”
It was the first time Mr. Hamilton had addressed him as Doug, as far as he could remember. He was sure once he had been addressed as Marvin once, and another time, he swore Mr. Hamilton had called him Shirley. The two had rarely met, so the exchanging of names was unnecessary.
“Well, I do enjoy a good conversation...”
“That is not exactly what I mean. I mean, you talk quite a bit to our...to the Earthlings.” Mr. Hamilton turned to face Doug. “These programs seem a most complicated and very serious collection. If we provide them with too many answers, they will pursue more. If we give them few...” He shrugged. “They will remain in ignorance. In telling them everything, there is always the chance of revolution.”
“Now, as much as I hate to put more work on your plate, I believe we should recreate the program a second time.” He walked towards the edge of the cliff again. "I do like this, but I prefer a greener environment," he said. A slight smile crept across his face when the desert landscape was suddenly overtaken by grass. "That is more like it," he said.
“Oh, that would not be a good idea, sir.”
“And why is that.” The sound of the wind did nothing to disguise the disappointment in his voice.
“Well, the second runaround has seen a little bit of corruption in the program. By slightly less than 1 percent. The affected programs have acted...erratically. The affected program in this case ran into the woods, half naked, screaming slightly.”
Mr. Hamilton arched his eyebrow. “Interesting.”
“Yes. We calculate that with each recreation attempt, the corruption will increase. The second time, it will be five percent. Then twenty five percent. The fourth time...well, we calculate almost complete program failure.”
“One percent might seem an acceptable percentage...but you must realize, we are talking about billions of programs, once recovery is complete. That would mean millions of corrupt programs, which could be staggering itself. And, since we are unable to capture those corrupt programs once released, and since we cannot tell when a program is corrupt until it is released...well, I am sure you can tell complications could arise.”
Mr. Hamilton nodded in satisfaction. “OK. However, I would like you to promise that your interaction with the programs will be kept at a minimal.”
Then Mr. Hamilton reappeared. “Oh, and whatever you do, don't let them know that the llama's are the ones who are actually in control. That could be devastating.” Doug nodded.
Mr. Hamilton reappeared. “Did that damn deer take my keys!!??!!”
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