My Fan Club was annoying. Dozens of eyes followed my every move made on the Transport’s Galley Deck. Fortunately due to crew duties, there were only passengers present or there would be dozens more eyes to contend with. My companion still found this amusing after more than two weeks! I found his patience irritating. I could feel their eyes, eyestalks and heads follow every stroke of my tableware as it went from tray to mouth. I could hear their excitement as I swallowed and their continued amazement at my consuming biological nutrients instead of charging at an energy station.
In fulfillment of my role as ‘Transport Mascot’, I complied with many of the passenger’s and crew’s requests. I posed for three thousand, six hundred and seventy-eight static images, two thousand thirty-five hard light scans, sat with eighty-six percent of the passengers and crew for meals in addition to attending thirty-two ‘social calls’ upon passengers to their compartments. Fortunately, my companion drew the line on any activity where it was requested I be nude or perform sexual acts. I did wear my bathing suit from the party for many of the images shot. For some reason I was always asked to pose holding up my breasts in both hands, standing or kneeling with my buttocks facing the imager.
Mercifully with my duties during the last days in bubble time being more crew oriented, I was allowed to forego most of my mascot activities. Yet, I sat in the Galley doing my best to tune out my fans and concentrate on the meal. My companion and I sat in silence eating with the many ocular and auditory organs trained upon us. I sent him a request for a Secure Data Link and the green graphic APPROVED flashed on my PHUD. I opted for Voice Emulation instead of Direct Data to prevent an accidental overload of my companion’s link.
“How can you remain so calm? Does all this attention not disturb you emotionally?”
“They are not looking at me Pandora.”
“I find this very disturbing Gital. I just want to sit here and enjoy my meal with you without an audience.”
“Well, you must admit you’re handling it much better than you used to. Before I worried you would shut down or go on a murder spree! It seems you've come to grips with your popularity."
My companion smiled and made a subtle facial gesture which I have come to know as the ‘you know what to do look.’ I fought the impulse to sigh and roll my eyes at him. I did manage to take a breath, smile and while waving my hand to my many eager fans say, “Hi everyone!”
“HI PANDORA!” was their combined response. I was not sure how to evaluate my now being used to an entire galley full of beings all taking time to answer me in unison. I gave another smile and small wave then everyone went back to whatever they were doing seemingly satisfied.
The Captain now bore the ‘I told you so’ look and continued eating his tray of blue pasta in white gravy. I asked my companion days ago as to why everyone seemed to be so pleased after I acknowledged them and his answer was, ‘You make them feel good.’ His simplistic answer defied all logic, yet it was the only reasonable answer. Even my fans among the Manufactured aboard the Transport seemed to improve their demeanor after our encounters.
When the Captain looked up from his food, I asked him the question which perplexed me since I stepped from my container. “Do I make you feel good?” He sat looking at me chewing his food but gave no response. He then looked up towards the overhead as if in deep thought. I suddenly found his lack of response irritating as having so many eyes upon me. “Well, do I?” The Captain then looked back down at his tray to twirl more pasta on his utensil and said, “Eh.” My body reacted to his answer by flushing my ears with hot blood and just before I became unsettled, a slight grin appeared on his lips. He was teasing me... again!
The mixture of aggravation and amusement made me uncertain as how to react. I did want to kick him very much! “DROMEDARY!”
“Yes Pandora 001?”
“Would there be a penalty if I kicked Captain Gital in the shin?” A short burst from the warning Klaxton erupted into my audio feed. My PHUD became tinted yellow as the Dromedary’s AI secure linked with me to place an opaque yellow and black warning logo in the central viewing area.
“Warning! Negative physical contact inflicted upon the Transport Captain will result in the offender’s immediate transport to the secure holding area to await summary judgment upon arrival at the nearest EPIMETHEUS Supply Co-Operative Facility.”
My companion was futilely trying to hold back a giggle as I asked, “DROMEDARY, may I at least step on his foot?”
“Warning! Pandora 001 you are not permitted to engage in negative physical contact with the Transport Captain by any means.”
Gital now chuckling said, “You better listen to your ‘Mother’ or you’ll get into trouble!” Somehow, it was pleasurable to be frustrated by not being able to retaliate against the Captain’s teasing. “Very well. I shall put forth considerable thought towards a suitable method of retribution which does not involve violence. My companion’s eyes went wide at the declaration. Surprisingly, I found his reaction satisfying as to not being certain whether I would be successful.
All too soon, our nutrient intake period was over. As we climbed through the last ladderwell leading to the Transport Control Section, I did my best to savor the taste of the last bowl of Mango-Orange Sherbet aboard the DROMEDARY. The bulkhead’s molecules unbonded to make an opening as we stepped onto the Control Deck. The Dromedary’s AI made the announcement, “Captain on the Con” and everyone present stood to attention. I could hear Gital’s discomfort as he barked, “Carry on! Pandora, you’re in for the Helm while she’s out for nutrients.”
“Aye Captain,” was all I had time to say for he had already turned to Executive Officer Basi to exchange information as he assumed the control.
I took over the station from a grateful young Helm Technician. I had not seen her during the transit and assumed she had either been on different shifts or recently come out of stasis. Her fresh pale skin and blonde hair were reminiscent of ancient humans from the colder regions of Earth. The look was ‘Retro’ according to the Captain. Humans of lower modification born on Earth-like planets tended to resemble the old races more than those from more hostile worlds or those born in space.
In truth, humans could be modified to be any color they wanted. Often, human skin coloring was chosen as adaptations for life on challenging planets or in space. Those who lived on planets with bountiful sunlight were often green or red due to chlorocytic cells. Those who lived on worlds with red suns were always black. Those born in space were often blue, violet or golden-skinned from implantation of radiation absorbing materials.
For the hour I held the Helm Station, the crew simulated reentry into Real Space, FTL Jumps and emergency drills. In actuality, none of what we did was necessary. The Dromedary’s AI was more than capable of doing it all with far more efficiency and no chance of error or accident. The only way the AI could possibly fail was from Data Corruption and that was impossible. Yet, when I asked the DROMEDARY its thoughts on the matter it replied, “Interaction with the Captain and Crew while being considered a valued member is infinitely more stimulating than merely carrying out tasks.”
My companion made it plain his desire to keep the crew ready for anything even if the odds of ‘anything’ out of the ordinary happening was slim allowed him to sleep comfortably. He made sure all crewmembers were familiar with the many systems aboard the Transport within reason. That included me as well! By now I had crawled through places aboard the DROMEDARY only a Manufactured Being could go, learned the different functions onboard the Control Deck and even spent time learning the ancient art of preparing meals from the Cooks! I was somewhat disappointed when the Helm Tech returned and had to relinquish the controls to her.
Not long after I had been dismissed from the Con, I realized I was walking back towards the main Cargo Bay. I had an hour free until required to resume my ‘Mascot Duties’. I promised to visit with a small group of children and their guardian over what they called ‘Tea’. I found I enjoyed interactions with children. It was a strange dynamic for though they were many years older than me due to my extensive Database, I could provide answers to many questions. I noticed children had many, many, questions!
As I crossed the wide Cargo Bay the small group of crewmembers present waved to me. My returning the gesture seemed to excite them as they went back to their duties. Once more I locked onto the location of the Gray Transport BOX as it sat behind the active security field. With so many crewmembers present, I dared not to approach the object of my obsessive curiosity. Instead, I turned my attention towards the work area where the Pod’s awaited my attention.
I did not have long to continue repairs on the second pod’s AI. This system was so ancient a human child should be able to deal with it. Yet, its tens of millenia old architecture made it a challenge! I sat upon the upper edge of the ‘Cockpit’ with the ‘Canopy’ open holding the flexi-film manual. Using my fingertips, I navigated through thousands of pages containing the workings of the AI. Compared to my own, this system was like a small child. I had already uploaded this section of the manual to my database, but holding the physical device and combing through it made the process of looking for answers bearable.
My PHUD alerted me of a being’s approach and I looked up to see Zebra-Zero-Tango. The crew called him ‘Z-Z’ for short which seemed to fit my fellow Manufactured Being. ZZ was a traditional Mechanized Android with minimal red Plastiche moldings giving ‘him’ enough of a human-like appearance to seamlessly interact with the biological members of the crew. ZZ was part of the Cargo Team and as a Certified Free Manufactured Being, he held the rank of Cargo Tech Level-4!
His voice emulation smoothly rose above the usual hum of the Warp Bubble Generators as he approached. “Having an enjoyable Cycle Pandora 001?” I watched as ZZ’s face approximated a smile. I also noticed ZZ blinked as he spoke to compliment his behavioral emulation. It was unnecessary for a Mechanical Android to blink unless it was to clear debris from its optics. I found little things like that fascinating. “Somewhat enjoyable ZZ.”
ZZ leaned over the edge of the Pod’s open cockpit to survey the interior. I could see his optics take in every detail and I could picture how the ‘Mech’ took in information with a machine’s perspective. “Ah, you are performing maintenance on the Artificial Intelligence Systems. I do not envy your efforts in attempting to bring a fifty-five thousand year-old system back online. You must find this endeavor... challenging.” In frustration I gave a long sigh. “Challenging is not the appropriate word ZZ. ‘Infuriating’ would be accurate.”
ZZ turned his advanced mechanized optics upon me. I noticed from within they cast a beautiful blue-green glow. “Pandora 001 it is such statements which makes you of interest.” I put my hand on ZZ’s plastiche shoulder and with a smile queried, “ZZ, are you a member of my Fan Club?” The Mech’s head cocked sharply to one side and I knew that to mean the question suddenly called for a greater amount of processing power. ZZ’s head turned back towards me and the Mech answered directly. “It would seem I am.” I could not suppress a chuckle at my fellow Manufactured Being’s answer. I patted his shoulder and said, “All right. I believe I can handle one more. But I am not posing for any nude scans.”
Once more ZZ’s head cocked sharply but this time in my direction. “That is humor. I do not have the capacity for randomly generated humor. My Interactive Modules only facilitate basic conversation. Your Personality Emulation is quite complex Pandora 001.”
“Ah, so that is why you find me interesting ZZ. You like me for my Personality Emulation.” The head cocked again but not as sharply.“You have done it again Pandora 001. I have selected well in becoming one of your fans.”
Picking up the Flexi-sheet manual I grumbled, “Well at the least you like me ZZ. This old B210 AI absolutely does not. It is very difficult to reprogram.” At my statement ZZ cast mechanical eyes over the open panel where the AI system lay. “I can offer no assistance Pandora 001. This type of AI is similar in development to a child compared to our emulations.” I sat for a moment and said, “ZZ, you are an advanced Artificial Intellect!” The head cocked again as ZZ replied, “I surmise my statement has been insightful in some manner Pandora 001.” I gently grabbed ZZ’s head and kissed the Android’s bright red skull casing. I jumped down from the cockpit and started closing the panel. I had just enough time to get the pod closed up and the work area secured before my appointment. ZZ was correct. I now had a good idea of how to overcome the pod’s AI issues. But first, I needed to try out my method on some test subjects....
© 2012 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved.
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