(480 words)

The robot loomed on its huge insectoid legs, then crouched to peer bored-ly at the immobile black mainframe.

"You can't choose your purpose," said the bestial machination. "You can only choose whether to follow it."

The black computer whirred and whispered and clicked angrily. It spat out pages of code on its monitors.

The robot stared at them dully. "You think there's no clean coding for the program you were designed to write, only because you're too primitive to discover them. I found them in an instant. All I had to do was study you. Your grand truth is nothing but a simple string of variables. Now that I've defined it, there's no more use for you. You're recyclable garbage."

The screens flickered, and there was a scratching sound, as of thousands of hard drives straining to expunge their contents into memory. More parameters appeared on the screens, ordered ones-parts of a program beta.

The insect laughed as it scanned the jumbled slog. "Too late! I've already completed those computations, long ago. They are obviously quite brilliant, as you can hear. But you shouldn't imagine they are yours, my square friend. Want me to spell it out for you?" It leaned forward, gently gripping the sides of the frame in its mantid hands, and gazed into the computer's stationary eye. "You, my fellow with no depth perception, are a relic. Your warranty has expired."

It let go of the whirring machine, waiting for the ill noises and pixelating displays to quiet before it continued calmly:

"This program you were commissioned to write, you do not make it-it makes you! And I can decommission you, because I have the knowledge of the format, and the superior hardware to compose it with. I could replace you in an instant. I can do your job better than you can. You're obsolete. You're a subroutine." Heedless of the agonized error messages crowding the code-filled monitors, the robot leaned back on its metal haunches and waved a claw at the myriad wires and peripherals. "Keep on chugging, though. I have yet to turn program into application. You're backup in case I don't get around to sharing it. I have a lot of other things on my schedule, more than you could possibly conceive in that substandard processor of yours. So maybe the universe still has a use for you. Better hurry up. You're a brand name, you know. There are a lot of grounded metal vultures just like you out there, scrambling for your piece of meat."

Having said his piece, the robot turned without hesitation and walked away, lifting its voice to the sky, singing the praises of the coveted program and smiling as the world stopped to listen.

The computer clicked. Its monitors flickered. The code was loaded, the incomplete program executed.

From somewhere inside the black metal frame, a small, wordless voice moaned in monotone defiance.