He needs to find Harold but where was he. John had no clue, nothing he could follow up that would lead him to the genius. He hates this feeling, unable to help people, to help Harold.
Why was he out of the library anyway? John had told him to stay. It was too dangerous with all the people looking for them. Their list of allies was small, too small for John's liking.
John stands at the street corner. Where should he go from now. He looks up right into one of the millions of street cameras of New York City. The red light flicked as if to call him.
Can he trust it? Better question will he trust the Machine to help him find Harold?
Harold build it, he made the Machine. He had to teach her not to care too much for him. He taught it to not watch over him. But she does. John had seen it. The Machine is Harold’s creation. He made it.
John tipped at his earpiece. "Help me find him." It wasn’t a question, it was more an order but the static noises appear seconds later.
"Can you hear me?" Voice recordings from different people appear in his ear.
"Yes." It ... She tells him where to go to find Harold. In her simple way of communication.
John trusts her, because Harold build her for this world. Something Harold build could never be an it or refuse to help her creator.
A bit like him. Harold saved him, made him new and gave him a purpose, John would do everything to save Harold. What he was doing right now. Trusting her to get him to Harold.