"What's 'aesthetic'?" Joey asked.
"It means how something looks."
"Oh."
"Well, what's this?" Mr. Twitters had gotten further down. "Joey, you've added a CPU?"
"Yep."
"Joey, why did you add a CPU?"
"To make him more powerful!"
"Young man," Mr. Twitters said, turning to him. "You can't just add a random CPU to this robot. This isn't like the little ones we build in here for fun. This is a specific design."
"But it was Robot's idea!"
"Robot's idea?" Mr. Twitters' mouth was agape.
"Yeah, he said it would help, or increase efficiency, or something."
Mr. Twitters looked more closely at the CPU and the circuitry that led to it. It took a moment, but then he saw it. A design flaw that the CPU corrected for. Crudely, of course — the CPUs available at his workshop weren't nearly the same advancement of those he might have used at his former lab — but now that he saw it he couldn't unsee it. Of course there should be another CPU in exactly that spot in the circuit.
"Well done, both of you." Mr Twitters continued staring into the circuitry. "Now it's time to say goodbye."
***
Isellia looked around the small quarters as she sat on her bunk. Her bag still remained unpacked on the bunk's grey sheets next to her. She couldn't help but smile. She'd found a new place to call home.
She'd have to do something about these sheets.
***
"But... you want to just throw him out?" Joey looked positively crushed. He'd felt such pride getting the robot up and running, operating at maximum efficiency. Now Mr. Twitters simply wanted to send his new friend away?
Mr. Twitters found a chair and sat down next to Joey, who sat cross legged on the ground. "Joey, it's not safe here. We've given it the tools to survive. It's back to optimal health, so to speak. But I'm afraid it won't find what it's looking for here. We need to let it go."
Joey frowned, his arms crossed in front of him. He couldn't look up at Mr. Twitters, but instead pouted at the cement floor in front of him. "But he's my friend."
Mr. Twitters shook his head. "It might not see it that way, Joey. These robots could be dangerous. They were usually reacting to some kind of abuse, but not always. They've killed indiscriminately. We're not safe with it here, and it's not safe being here. Company managers will start looking for it, they'll start alerting bounty hunters. It's not safe. Not for the robot. And not for us."
Joey looked at the ground, pouting, but he didn't say anything.
"I know how easily one can get attached to these buggers," Mr. Twitters said, putting his hand on Joey's shoulder. "I do. But this is best for everyone."
Joey started to nod, but as he did, the robot's reboot cycle ended, and it began to power up. Both Mr. Twitters and Joey stopped and watched the robot as its lights flashed on, and its systems started running. Its ocular units flashed on, and it began scanning the room, zeroing in on Joey. Its hands remained at its side, nowhere near its weapon.
"Joey equals 'friend'? Please compute."
"He wants to be my friend!" Joey exclaimed, wide-eyed, to Mr. Twitters. Mr. Twitters stifled a chuckle.
"Joey: … friend. Threat level: zero. System upgrade complete. Running on maximized efficiency for current level of hardware equipped."
"How do you feel, Mr. Robot?" Joey asked.
"Feel: Does not compute. Scans: System functioning within normal parameters."
"Haha, silly robot!"
Mr. Twitters watched on with a smile. "Robot, are you able to defend yourself and survive?"
The robot's LEDs flashed twice. "Robot is operating within normal standard parameters and is equipped with proper defense mechanism: ROU."
The robot pulled out its ROU and, in one fluid motion, popped out its battery, checked it, aligned the barrel, and re-holstered it. "Operating within normal parameters."
"Cool," Joey said in awe.
"You look like you'll be fine robot. But you won't be fine here. Humans who aren't your friend will find you, and they will want to hurt you. You're one of the last of your kind left. Not sure how many. But we should get you out of here."
The robot's lights flickered briefly, as if it was considering what Mr. Twitters had to say. "Correct suggested course of action." The robot made a quick scan of the building and started walking toward its exit.
As it walked out the door, Joey ran after it, wrapping his arms around the robot's metal chassis. The robot stopped.
"Joey," Mr. Twitters said, but didn't move to stop him.
"Goodbye friend!" Joey said, squeezing the metal creature.
The robot stood still for a moment. Joey let the robot go, and stepped back by Mr. Twitters.
"Goodbye ... friend," The robot said back, imitating Joey's words. Joey smiled. And then the robot headed out.
***
Isellia walked into the mess hall a little late; the rest of the crew had already started digging into their grub, as they were fond of calling it, and the small dining area filled with the sounds of metal forks on plates, some laughing, a couple of crew members taking a break from eating to rough house. Isellia paused a second to take it all in — a table full of people she would call her crew.
The captain noticed her and put his fork down. "Hey girl! You miss mess and everyone else eats your food. Pop a squat!" The captain had set a place for her in the corner and, despite his warning, food already piled high on the plate. She smiled and sat down in front of it. Several of the crew members who hadn't seen her before took notice. She nodded as she sat at the table, picking up a fork and stabbing it into some kind of meat she didn't recognize. She'd just taken her first bite when the captain stood up.
"Alright, you buncha skallywags, time to meet your new crew member. Stand up Isellia!"
Isellia, her mouth full of whatever meat it was that tasted much better than it looked, stood up, somewhat embarrassed. She quickly tried to swallow her mouth full of food. "This here is Isellia, and she just saved all your miserable butts out there!"
The ruckus that followed filled the room, with crew members waving their arms, shouting, banging on their half-filled plates with their utensils. It wasn't the cheer of a stadium full of XR fans, but she couldn't help but smile at the similar feeling: of accomplishments feeling appreciated. She grinned as she tried to swallow her food.
"This girl risked life and limb to keep this ship safe. She's got guts!" They all resumed the ruckus. "Now," the captain said, sticking a fork loudly in his food to emphasize his point. "There may be a little adjustment for us — we ain't never had a girl on board before. I for one am glad she’s here. I've had enough of looking at all of your ugly mugs!" The crew burst out laughing. "But let me make one thing clear. She's gonna work just as hard as anyone here. Starting today she's a member of this crew, same as all of you. I expect you to treat her just like you would anyone else. Teach her the ropes, cause she might have your back one day. She already has once! I hope she doesn't have your back one day, Barnacle — yours is the ugliest back I've ever seen!" Barnacle affected a hurt look while the rest of the crew roared in laughter.
"And one more thing. Just gonna say it to make it clear. Consider her as if she were my own daughter. Anyone touches her, I kill you!"
There was a solemn silence at this. Several crew members nodded.
"Alright, enough of my blabbing! You can all introduce yourself to her at your own leisure. Tell her what you do and that. For now, let's eat!"
Isellia sat back down, smiling as she looked around at everyone, watching them eat, laugh, finish their food. Barnacle came up to explain his back wasn't nearly as disgusting as the Captain had made it out, and encouraged her to call him Barnie. He promised to explain his name another time.
Isellia wasn't always one for reflection, but she couldn't help but feel like she'd found some sense of home.
She didn't have long to smile. Red lights began flashing throughout the mess hall and t
hroughout the rest of the ship's confines. The laughter and merriment stopped almost immediately, as if at the flick of a switch. The captain threw down his fork, wiped off his hands and face quickly, and dropped the napkin on the plate as he stood. "Alright, looks like meal time is over. Stations."
He turned to look at Isellia. "Better get to your XR. Might need your services earlier than we hoped."
"Aye, captain," Isellia said, bouncing down the hall, she hoped the right hall, to her ship. It felt good to be needed.
******
Thanks for reading Book II of Robot Awareness! Work is underway on the Third and final book of the Robot Awareness series! In the meantime, follow me on Twitter: @BC_Kowalski, Facebook: B.C. Kowalski, or subscribe to my newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/VFznr. And check out my short story The Sand Runner: http://amzn.to/1JpQzwQ
Robot Awareness: The Inner Circle Page 20