Chapter One: Caged Bird

            ROB sometimes wished that he could sigh.

            Really, it would be a useful motion.

            He watched over his shoulder as his crewmen, or owners, came onto the bridge, sinking into the comfortably worn chairs. They were deep in discussion, Slippy going over a stack of printouts, Peppy consulting a PDA. He had been listening since they had stepped on board the ship, of course. Little went on without his knowing, but as a somewhat passive ship AI, that was his duty.

            He spun the chair he sat in absently to face the four, pressing his long, metal fingertips together. How long had it been? Sixteen years, he knew, and he had a photographic memory for every day, every minute, compressed into databank after databank, accessible as he needed them. He escaped into them a lot, during the nights. As integral as he was, he wasn't really included into the team. Only Slippy really acknowledged his presence at all, and for that he was grateful.

            "… I can't believe we've had a two-hour discussion on what to do with extra money." Falco was saying, arms crossed and frowning just a bit. "Don't we deserve bonuses for what we've done?"

            "We're getting paid more then we figured for in the first place." Fox said. "Which is good enough for me. Are you sure we've put enough on this boat, Slippy?"

            "Yeah. We've cut a huge chunk off our debt, repaired the arwings. Everything is nominal here."

            ROB pondered that for the space of two seconds, checking with his computer systems. Yes, everything was as it should be. Still, it wasn't as it could be. How much money did they have floating, anyway? Enough to pay for repairs to the weak link in the system?

            "Excuse me."

            The group blinked, looking over at where ROB was sitting, the strange, lanky robot staring passively back at them. "What's up ROB?" Slippy asked, automatically the first to speak.

            "Everything is not nominal aboard this ship." ROB's fingers went to the wires that hooked from his wrists to the terminals, fidgeting, one of the very few 'human' habits he possessed. "There are a… few things that could stand to be adjusted."

            "Well, fire away by all means." Fox said. "What are we discussing here that isn't showing up in the reports?"

            "By Slippy's reports, everything is fine, however, it really depends on your viewpoints. I am speaking from the viewpoint of sixteen-year-old fast attack cruiser who is made fun of on a day-to-day basis by the newer cruiser AIs." ROB's voice came out very stiffly, more so then normal.

            "Ouch." Falco mumbled.

            "How long is a computer viable before it becomes outdated? I know all of you have home computers." He accessed his terminals, flying through webpages he had privately marked ages ago. Even AIs got bored, even AIs wanted things. Usually, it was functional, but not always.

            "Two years is usually the limit." Peppy said, already catching on to what ROB was leading into.

            "I am a computer." ROB tapped his own chest. "I am sixteen years old. As old as this ship. I have one hundredth the processing power of recent AIs, and that is compared to the slowest, least expensive model available."

            Fox looked at Slippy. "I thought you tried to keep up with that, Slip."

            "I keep ROB running, but that's all I can do." Was the defensive reply. "AI parts are expensive, and he's proprietary, so anything matching his make is hard to find, or completely impossible. The fact that his original frame is still good is a miracle."

            "One I do not want to have to depend on. If you wish for this cruiser to continue to function as it has, as a combat support unit, the weakest link has to be cut." ROB spread his hands. "And that weakest link is me."

            "Come on, ROB. We can't replace you." Fox protested, ears flattening back in alarm. He was two when he had first met this strange robot, and the impression had never left him, the tall frame, the cold intellect. ROB had even attempted to baby-sit him once, years ago before Slippy had permanently wired him into the bridge. That was a fond, well-worn memory, one that always came up when he looked at ROB, remembering the robot puzzling over Doctor Seuss and himself laughing hysterically.

            "No kidding. I've met some newer AIs. They don't compare to you." Falco said, frown deepening.

            "I am not asking to be replaced. I am asking for a complete upgrade." He ticked items on his fingers as he went. "This frame must go, everything but my personality and memory data. The memory and network banks in the terminals must be replaced as well to match my new frame. The trouble is, these things are not cheap at all. That's why your father never upgraded me Fox. He loved this ship, but he could never afford to do so. I am, for all intents and purposes, a well-loved low priority."

            "You aren't a low priority ROB…"

            "Then you will put ALL of the money left into my upgrade?"

            There was a long silence, and Fox laughed weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. "You had this discussion well thought out."

            "I have been thinking about it for at least six years." ROB admitted.

            "What do you mean by your 'frame'?" Falco asked. "I mean, I have a hunch, but…"

            "I mean go to a company that specializes in bodies of AI computers and completely rid myself of this body. I've got a company chosen, if you will allow it." He looked to Fox, praying that he'd agree to this. The money would be just enough for it, too, and he knew mercenary jobs were few and far between now.

            "You'd know best. I'm ok with this, ROB. It seems we've been neglecting you a bit, so get what you want as long as we can pay for it, all right?"

            "Thank you." He paused. "The ship will have to go to standby mode while landed for me to do this, and I will have to be taken to the company headquarters. Slippy, you'll also have to rip apart two of the terminals to remove the memory banks there."

            "I can do that. I'll drive you there as well." Seeing one of ROB's terminals pop up with a website, Slippy went over to it and fell into discussion with him, seeming a bit surprised with the choice.

            "Guess this solves the money issue, eh?" Falco stood up. "We on leave then?"

            "Yes, but keep your beeper on and with you." Fox shot him a look.

            "You are such a wet blanket sometimes." Falco shook his head and left, the door sliding closed behind him.

            "He'll be fine, Fox." Peppy said, tucking his PDA in his pocket. "He always is."

            "That's what worries me. I'm worried I'll have to pick him up for disorderly conduct or something." Fox sighed, standing and moving to look over Slippy's shoulder. "Incarna Corporation?"

            "Yeah, this is who ROB wants to do his upgrade." Slippy said. "They're fairly new to the field, but they're really good. They're specialists, working only with AIs."

            "Like how new?"

            "They just celebrated their three-year anniversary." ROB said. "They create beautiful frames. Totally undiscernable from living people."

            "So your body will be, well, human?"

            "Perfectly. Subroutines even control blinking and breathing, even during recharge cycles." ROB smiled. "And the neural nodes are hypersensitive, allowing the AI to have a sense of touch like a living thing."

            "I thought you had that already."

            "I can tell pressure, and I get warnings for damage. I also get a readout for temperature. That's about it."

            Fox looked at ROB, staring the flat optical band that served as the robot's eyes. "I never considered you a low priority, ROB. I just didn't know."

            "How could you have? No one told you. I can't hold grudges."

            "You told me you have one against Pigma."

            ROB made a grating noise that sounded like a laugh. "I just didn't like him. That's not a grudge."

            Fox laughed. "He always was a bigot."

            "I still don't understand why your father kept him on as a pilot, to tell the truth." The robot looked back at the website, fidgeting again. "So when are we going to do this?" He looked at Slippy. "Our current landing slip's contract is good for another week, and I only need one day for the transfer."

            "Why don't we go first thing tomorrow? It'll only take me about an hour to crack the terminals and pull the banks." Slippy blinked, tapping the screen. "Did you ever ask them for a time estimate?"

            "Transferring to a new frame is simple, less then an hour, and it will only take that long because I'm an older proprietary frame." ROB hesitated. "It'll take at least four hours for the memory banks to fully dump over to new ones."

            "That's a lot of time to spend in a waiting room, but ok. Tomorrow then."

            "Would you care if I tagged along?" Fox asked. "I don't mind long waits."

            "That's fine with me." ROB replied. "Just make sure you get up fairly early."

            "All right."

            Peppy yawned, walking onto the bridge, stretching his arms absently. The lights flickered on automatically, and he flopped down in one of the chairs, rubbing his eyes.

            "Having trouble sleeping?"

            He glanced up, looking at ROB, who looked back passively. "Yes. Still."

            "You've been doing this since the war. I still think you should see a doctor." The robot tutted.

            "I will eventually. I just don't want to hear the rest of the speech. 'Oh by the way, you also need to loose twenty pounds, and here's some arthritis medication,' et cetera." He sighed deeply. "I feel so old sometimes."

            "You think you do, try being the computer equivalent of two hundred." ROB grunted, turning to face one of the terminals for a second, then turning back.

            "Yeah, I caught that." He rubbed his chin. "Uh, your power's reading pretty low, ROB."

            "I'm aware of that. I've got eight hours of battery left, and that's all I need. I'm not doing anything that burns battery up fast in that time period."

            "Why are you still active right now, anyway?"

            "Your arrival on the bridge would have activated me in the first place, Peppy, but I'm actually carrying on a conversation with another AI named Athens. She's an eight-year-old AI in command of the Cornerian cruiser Justice."

            "Ah, I see. Old friend?"

            "Not exactly. She's got a body by Incarna Corps. She's filling me in on what to expect." ROB held up a finger, then another voice drifted onto the bridge, a cheerful woman's voice.

            "Hi! I'm Athens. You're Peppy right?"

            "That'd be me." Peppy sat down roughly, blinking when the image came up on the main screen of a young female horse, perched in a chair much like ROB's. "Reassuring ROB?"

            "Well, ah… not exactly. I was actually discussing with him whether or not he should get a full emotion upgrade." Athen's ears swiveled. "Older AIs don't always take it very well because of the system shock."

            "There's still a 95% success rate, though, so I still want to go through with it." ROB said, crossing his arms.

            "There also aren't many AIs as old as you still in existence with their original bodies… or in existence at all. You're lucky you're so loved." Athens retorted.

            "I'm not sure loved is the word. Dependable, maybe. The point is my minor-feed emotions chip isn't up to par anymore. It's hard to be friends when you can't feel friendship."

            "I'm just trying to impress upon you the danger that might be there."

            "I got it. Anything else I should know about?"

            "Something you haven't thought about, probably: clothing. Incarna Corps will give you two outfits, but all the clothing they give out is white. You'll have to see if you can get your owners to take you shopping before bringing you back to your ship."

            "White?" Peppy asked.

            "It's just something Incarna Corps does. They say it's because when you first get your body, it's brand new, you're basically brand new, unsoiled. You become innocent again." Athens said. "So your first outfit is all white to reflect that."

            "That's actually kind of interesting."

            "You're right, I'll ask them tomorrow." ROB said, going through maps in his head. "There's a mall about ten minutes from Incarna Corps. Fox shouldn't have too much of a problem with it. Anything else?"

            "Only other thing is you should think about your voice. You won't have a heavily digital voice anymore, you'll sound real." She tilted her head. "Personally, I think you should go with a British accent. It'd fit you."

            The robot chuckled. "Thank you, Athens."

            "Not a problem at all. Peppy, scans show you need rest. Go do so. I'm out." The screen went blank.

            "Like I need someone else nagging me." Peppy sighed, shaking his head.

            "Seems to me that you do. My comments have yet to make any sort of impression on you." ROB said absently, settling in and going to a lower-power mode. "Do try to get some rest, Peppy. The team does depend on you."

            "I know. That fact is the only thing that keeps me going nowadays." He stood, leaving the bridge, glancing over his shoulder at the prone robot. Tomorrow, everything was going to change. ROB was basically going to come to life fully for the first time. And Peppy had a gut feeling that the entire group was going to have to ride the changes out.

            "Do you need help, Slip?" Fox asked, crouching and peering into the terminal Slippy was half-buried in, disconnecting the briefcase-sized memory banks.

            "… No. You'll get to carry one of these, but I'm good for now. Brace ROB, I'm about to pull the first one."

            "I'm ready." ROB wanted to close his eyes, do something to prepare for the strange feeling he knew was coming. It hit him, and his fingers tightened on the arms of his chair, digging in as a decade of memories suddenly disappeared. He couldn't remember being turned on, couldn't remember Fox as a child. "Please. Don't drop that." He managed to hiss out as the first hard drive was pushed out to Fox.

            "We won't. There are cases by you, Fox, put that in one of them."

            "Got it." Fox gingerly picked up the drive and loaded it in, closing the case tight and looking at ROB, who looked back. "Are you all right?"

            "It's like a sudden amnesia. I only carry a year or so of memory in here." He tapped his chest. "The rest gets dumped into those."

            "It's got to be hard."

            ROB didn't reply, hissing again to himself as he felt the second memory drive go, feeling almost all memories of James slip through his fingertips.

            "You sound like you're in pain."

            The robot looked back at Fox, who looked at him with an odd expression on his face. "Some very minor reactions are programmed into me, even as old as I am. I can fidget, cry out in pain, laugh a little. I have never decided if these things were good or bad."

            "Hmm." Fox put the second drive in the case and stood as Slippy pulled himself out of the terminal, stretching his arms with a grunt. "You're covered in dust."

            "Yeah, I know. I just had to wear black, too." Slippy stood, brushing himself off absently. "Ready to be unplugged ROB?"

            "As I will ever be." The robot held out his wrists, watching as Slippy opened the hatches and disconnected the wires, the ship shutting down around them. "It's on neutral power. Lights on low, doors still working, but that's all. No security systems running."

            "I told the docks to keep a watch on the ship. They were good with it." Fox said, picking up one of the hard drive cases. "Let's take my car. You'll fit better in it."

            "All right." ROB stood, following behind Slippy and Fox, feeling an odd sort of sorrow and worry. He hadn't seen these corridors with his own eyes in a while, and wouldn't see them again… with these particular eyes. When was the last time he had rode in car? Had he ever? He couldn't remember, and fought down what hysteria he could feel. He had known that the time before the transfer was going to be unpleasant.

            The car ride was an almost silent affair, ROB giving Fox directions as was needed, going off of maps he had downloaded the night before. Slippy spent the time running diagnostics on the memory banks with his handheld, ROB looking over his shoulder absently at the readings.

            Incarna Corporation was a large office building downtown, with marble statues by the entrance of unsentient lions. They walked up the stairs easily, Fox holding one of the doors for Slippy and ROB. The lobby was quiet, empty except for a receptionist sitting at a half-circle desk.

            "Excuse me, we called and made an appointment." Slippy said, leaning on the counter.

            "For me, I'm getting a full upgrade." ROB added, folding his arms absently, tilting his head at the receptionist.

            She smiled and stood, holding out a hand. "I'm Persephone. A pleasure to meet someone of your seniority, ROB."

            He took her hand. "Interesting name."

            Her smile became a grin. "It's the name Incarna Corps gave me. I'm one of their most recent models."

            "You're a robot?" Fox blurted, eyebrows shooting up, staring at the lady deer, who looked back at him peaceably. "Jesus, you look alive."

            "Of course I do. Jason?"

            Another figure arrived during this, and he held out a hand to Fox with a grin. "I'm Jason, and before you ask, I'm living. I'm one of Incarna Corps robotics technicians, I'll be taking ROB from you for a while."

            Fox shook his hand. "I assume we leave him in good hands then."

            "By coming to our company, we guarantee that. Persephone? Could you show them to the waiting room?" Jason asked as he picked up both hard drives easily. "ROB, could you please follow me?"

            "Of course." ROB glanced at Fox and Slippy, then fell in step behind the technician, towering over him. "I take it that Incarna Corps does research on the robots that come to them?"

            "We look into it, if anything so we know the original maker and are therefore able to complete the work faster and with more efficiency." Jason replied, holding the elevator for the robot. "You're famous around here, so you're a special case."

            "Famous?"

            "Yes. You're one of the first carriers of a true emotions chip, no matter how minor of one. We based our technologies on that chip when we started out. Not to mention that you're completely custom-made, and have lasted this long. A bit of a legend among us technical people." Jason smiled up at him, tail wagging. He was a canine, a beagle actually, and ROB fleetingly wished he could return the smile. "It was flattering that you chose our company, believe me."

            "I wouldn't have chosen anyone else. So what is the first step?"

            "If you're worried about ROB, don't be. He's in good hands." Persephone said, watching as Fox and Slippy settled down, looking around the posh waiting room. "The TV is on a satellite, so you should be able to find something to watch. The magazines are from this month, and the coffee's fresh. If you need anything, I'm right down the hallway, so don't hesitate to ask me."

            "Thanks." Slippy said, smiling. "How long of a wait do you think we have?"

            "That depends on the protocol that ROB stores his memories in. Anywhere from three to five hours is fairly typical."

            "Thanks again." Fox said, watching her leave, then looking at Slippy. "I'm thoroughly creeped out."

            "What, by the fact that she isn't alive? I think it's cool."

            "You would."

            "I'm insulted."

            Fox laughed.

            "I feel like I'm in a morgue." ROB said, looking around. Perching on tables, eyes closed, hands folded, and chins resting on chests, were dozens of models, like empty bodies, all alive looking.

            "Lots of people say that." Jason admitted. "There are readouts beside each one, so you can just browse. Any body in here is within your price range, so go with what you like."

            ROB nodded absently and began to walk, lingering by a male red fox that reminded him of James in a spooky way, then moving on, looking back and forth. What did he want to be? He hadn't thought about that. He was going to stay male, but other then that, had no real thoughts on what his body would be. He browsed specs and looked at faces, finally stopping again in front of a smaller, slender body, one hand lingering on the spec sheet. A snowshoe lynx, he knew, looking at the long-fingered hands and graceful ears. The technical specs were good, and the face soft and gentle.

            "Have you made a decision?" Jason asked, joining him.

            "Yes, I have. I like this one."

            The beagle made a note, nodding. "All right, well, this is the part most AIs don't like. We're going to have to shut you down for about an hour."

            "I know." ROB shivered. "But I can deal with it. I've had to before for repairs and such." He watched as two other technicians arrived, doing a diagnostics on the body he had picked, and startled when the lynx body moved, lifting its head and opening its eyes, blinking blankly. "Why are you moving?" He asked, frowning at the body.

            Jason grinned. "Power has to be restored for diagnostics. The wake-me-up is part of that, makes sure the body is functioning currently. I know it's a bit, well, creepy, being a body with no mind is staring back at you."

            "A bit, yes." ROB lifted a hand touched one of the ears, watching it press back, away from his hand. The eyes on the body narrowed uneasily. "I think we should continue with the process. Could you lead the way?"

            "Sure thing." Jason led the way out of the show room, ROB glancing behind himself, even more uneasy when he noticed the empty body was placidly watching him walk away. "Is it watching you?"

            "Yes. Yes it is."

            "Good. It should be."

            The walk was a short one, ending in a room full of equipment. ROB, under direction, settled into a chair and exposed all of his data ports uneasily, watching as Jason and another technician who introduced himself as Michael connected lines to them, readouts coming up on a screen.

            "How do you feel?" Michael asked, looking at the old robot, whose hands were clasped tightly together over the metal chest, fingers locked and working. He reached out a hand and rested it over the two metal ones, stopping the movement. "It's ok to be nervous."

            "And I am. Other then that, I feel fine. Distant."

            "That's good. Are you ready for this?"

            "As I can be. I wish my owner was here."

            "I'm sorry that he can't be. We can't allow non-personnel living beings in the work rooms. I can offer you a hand to hold if that's what you want."

            "I wouldn't mind." ROB admitted, taking the technician's hand and sternly telling himself not to crush it as he watched a countdown spiral down on the screen he could see. Then everything plunged into blackness, and his grip slowly released.