Chapter Two: Breath of Life

            ROB came back to awareness slowly, grasping for what little power was being fed to him, taking a proverbial look around as his systems came to life gradually around him. The chips he now existed in were new, he realized, and wanted to grin. The switch-over was apparently complete. Power came fully to him, and he routed it to outside systems, and for the first time, sky-blue eyes fluttered open.

            "How do you feel?" Jason asked, sitting next to the bed and watching as the snow leopard stirred slowly, no real pattern to the movement yet, nerves testing out new byways, limbs moving on purpose for the first time.

            "I'm not sure yet." ROB replied, looking at Jason, then slowly pushing himself into a sitting position so he could look down at himself. He was dressed completely in white, which went well with his fur he supposed, running one of his hands down the other arm, feeling for the first time what fur felt like, knitting his fingers into it for a second. "I feel good. Everything reads green."

            Jason grinned. "That's good. Are you ready to try walking yet?"

            "In a moment." He pushed himself to the edge of the bed, slowly rotating his arms, stretching joints, feeling the movement. It sent a hum through him, he could feel himself moving and he liked it. He had nerves, he could feel the fabrics he wore. "This is great."

            The beagle laughed, sitting back. "That's right, you're feeling for the first time aren't you?"

            "Yes." He looked over his shoulder, looking at his short tail, which whisked back and forth as he looked at it. "I don't have control over that, do I?"

            "Your subroutines do."

            "Ah, I see." ROB grinned, then slowly stood by the bed, letting his balance mechanisms take over, arms held out absently, shifting from foot to foot. "This is completely different from my old body. All the movement and balance routines are much more advanced."

            "Times change, and people change with them." Jason stood, moving beside him and offering a shoulder to lean on. "Let's take a walk."

            Fox looked up when Persephone appeared in the doorway, fighting the urge to yawn. He had actually nodded off for about half an hour, sleeping with his chin on his chest, eventually woke up because Slippy poked him awake, saying he had been unable to tell if he had been breathing or not. "Hey. Got news for us?"

            "ROB just woke up in his new body, and the memory dumps have about half an hour left. You can talk to him as he works on the paperwork if you like."

            "Paperwork?" Fox echoed as he stood, stretching his arms above his head.

            "Registration. Picture IDs, full name, things like that."

            "So he finally looses a name that's in all caps, eh?" Slippy said as they followed her back down the hall.

            "If he wants to."

            They reached the lobby, and saw Jason standing there next to a snowshoe lynx, who was leaning on the high desk, contemplating a paper form. When they entered the room the lynx perked up, looking over at them and smiling uncertainly.

            "What do you think?" The lynx asked, voice pitched to a soft tenor, no scratchy digitalization or synthetic overtones. "I feel kind of strange, I mean before this I barely even had a nervous system…"

            "ROB?" Slippy asked, eyebrows shooting upward.

            The lynx nodded, smile becoming a grin, hands fidgeting with the pen they were holding. "How do I look?"

            "You fooled us, that's for sure." Fox managed a smile, looking down at the lynx, who was several inches shorter then him, alive-looking, eyes bright blue and intelligent looking. "I have a hard time believing that it's you."

            "Rest assured, it is, just a lot better now." Continuing to grin, he looked back to the paperwork. "I need a last name." He remarked as Fox and Slippy leaned on either side of him, looking at the forms. "I already decided I'd keep my name in its longer form – Robert – but I've never had anything resembling a last name."

            "Are there any restrictions on it?" Slippy asked.

            "No, there aren't. It can be anything he wants it to." Said Jason, accepting some coffee from Persephone.

            Fox looked down at the form, then at ROB, who was still fidgeting with the pen, and wondered if ROB kept any of the good memories for himself. Did he remember trying to babysit Fox that one time? Did he remember playing computer games with him and Falco before they got involved in the war? It was strange, how much the AI had always been like family yet had always been background noise at the same time. No longer, he decided. Family was family in whatever form. "You can take McCloud, if you want to." He heard himself say.

            ROB looked at him in surprise, ears swiveling. "Are you serious?"

            "Perfectly. I've known you basically all my life. You're one of the few things I have left that's like family to me. So if you'd like to take my last name, you can."

            They looked at each other for a minute, and ROB smiled again. "Yeah, I think I like that." He turned back to the form, entering that last name with uncertain curves of ink. He'd never written by hand before, Fox realized with a start. He never had to, and here he was, figuring it out as he went. Or maybe it was just part of the programming. Either way, watching those new hands puzzle it out was strange, almost human. "I meant to ask, does my voice fit? This is default, but I can tweak its settings if I want to."

            "You sound fine." Slippy said, looking at the form absently. "Looks like you have most of this thing filled out already."

            "Yes indeed." He signed it slowly, then pushed it across the desk to Persephone. "Do I need to do anything else?"

            "No, that's it. All your IDs will be ready by the time your memory banks are done."

            "Thank you."

            The trio sat down one of the sofas in the lobby, ROB's moves still uncertain. "Fox?" He finally asked, scratching one of his ears absently. "I know I have asked a lot of you so far, but could we pick up some clothing for me before we return for the ship?"

            "I suppose that's doable." Fox replied. "I think there is a shopping mall nearby."

            "There is."

            Jason walked over and handed Slippy a thick book. "Owner's manual. I understand you are the technical person on the ship, so if there are minor things you can fix them. Anything major should be delegated to us to fix."

            "All right." Slippy looked down at the book. "It looks like a phone directory for the inner city."

            Jason laughed out loud. "Usually people say dictionary, but either way it's a good comparison." He glanced at his watch. "ROB, brace yourself."

            "Why should he…?" Fox started, then gaped when ROB suddenly gasped, his head tilting back. "What's going on?"

            "The memory banks are coming online. We keep them wireless with a satellite-broadcast radius, so wherever he's at he can access them. We still have to run diagnostics, of course, but his memory is coming back and it's a bit of a shock."

            "That's definitely an improvement. I've met wired-in AIs who never want to be unplugged because of the memory loss." Slippy said, watching as ROB came back to earth slowly, breath sliding out. "Is he really breathing?"

            "He can survive in a vacuum, so no. It's a programmed subroutine to mimic living people more closely." Jason accepted a clipboard from Persephone. "I need you to sign this, Mr. McCloud."

            "What is it?" Fox took it, feeling himself go crosseyed at the tiny print.

            "It's your understanding of a new law that has now come into effect for ROB. There was a case after the war about AIs being able to defend themselves if a ship was boarded. A few were killed, and the captains and crews took it to court." Jason rubbed the back of his neck. "Basically, under the old interpretation of the Three Laws of Robotics, a warship could fire on an enemy ship but was not allowed to engage in hand-to-hand combat, or combat within the ship. So boarders could take the AI out of commission and have access to everything."

            "We're lucky we didn't get boarded during the war." Slippy admitted. "What's the new interpretation?"

            "That's the thing. Now military AIs, including ROB, are not Three Laws robots anymore. Now that he's been upgraded, he is free of those laws and allowed to download combat protocols. Don't worry, there is a safety protocol…"

            "I can't hurt someone who is considered an ally to my crew." ROB ended in a dry voice, having been listening to this as he mentally ran a finger down the list of his memories, removing some for immediate storage in his body memory. Some he liked more then others. Some were sources of joy. Others, he wished he could delete forever. "Unless it is self defense."

            "That is interesting, but I agree with it completely." Fox signed the paper and passed the clipboard back to Jason. "How do you feel ROB?"

            "Much better, actually."

            Jason left, and the next twenty or so minutes were spent in silence, Slippy already absorbed in the owner's manual, Fox and ROB just sitting side by side quietly, watching the occasional person walk by. Fox spent most of it deep in thought. He remembered the stories of AI destruction during the war, and it always sent a pained ripple through the military. Many of the AIs went from ship to ship, many almost as old as ROB was. He didn't want that to happen on his ship.

            "Hey ROB, can I ask you something?"

            "Go ahead Fox."

            "What does it feel like when you're turned back on? Is it just like a switch, you're suddenly on again?"

            "It's a gradual energy feed. Keeps things from getting overloaded." ROB replied, glancing at Fox. "Getting turned off is sudden, once all checks are done. Being without power is horrible. It's not like you're recharging or anything, that you have will to come out of. If you're off, you're trapped in blackness, listening to an internal clock."

            "Sounds like it could drive someone insane."

            "It's happened before, yes." ROB admitted. "That's why AIs are rarely turned off, and even then for short amounts of time. It can make the personality program become unstable." He cast a side look at Fox again. "Why are you asking?"

            "I was just remembering the reports from the war. That's all."

            "I know. I'm lucky to have survived so long and not be in a museum somewhere. I appreciate it, believe me." He smiled a touch. "As for being brought back to power, it's a good feeling. Disorienting the first time around."

            "You remember that?"

            "First thing I saw was your dad, sitting across from me, watching me. Completely unnerving experience, even if I know now he meant no harm."

            Fox chuckled softly. "Yeah, my dad was a bit intimidating, even if he was just standing around. Never meant it either."

            "I know." ROB looked back across the lobby, and Fox saw Jason walking back up, carrying two cases, one large and one small. "My memory racks?"

            "That's right, running on battery right now." Jason handed the large case to Fox once he had stood. "And yes, the two drives were compressed to one. Things are smaller now, and don't worry, there's still plenty of room." He handed the smaller case to Slippy. "Interface equipment. Should be everything you need."

            "Thank you."

            "Well, I hope we've made you repeat customers. Have a great day."

            "It couldn't be anything else." ROB smiled over his shoulder, following his two friends outside.

            Fox was walking down the stairs when he blinked and looked over his shoulder. ROB stood frozen, head tilted back and eyes closed. Tapping Slippy's shoulder, he doubled back, worried. "ROB?"

            "Yeah. I'm here." Was the faint reply, voice drifting. "It's just that…"

            "What?"

            ROB opened his eyes and looked up at Fox, a weird smile crossing his lips. "Wind. I've always known wind is there, I'm a ship after all, but… actually feeling wind…"

            Fox returned the smile after a few seconds, patting ROB's shoulder. "Come on. Let's get you some clothes."

            "Say what you want, Trish. I can't believe you can recognize every AI you see." The teenage girl snorted, taking a long slurp of her soda. "Especially with how real they look now. There's no distinction between us and them."

            "That is where you are completely wrong, I'm afraid." Trish smiled and shook her head. "Let's start with the obvious, shall we?" She looked around, and saw a trio of guys walking past the food court. "There, the snowshoe lynx. He is, and he's brand new."

            "How can you tell that?"

            "He's wearing solid white. One of the companies does that, never have figured out why." She took a bite of her pizza. "That, and you can always tell AIs by how they walk. Living people either walk on their heels or their toes, AIs walk evenly dispersed. That and they always act like they're aware of everything."

            "Whatever, Trish."

            ROB paused, one ear swiveling. "Just a second, ok Fox?" Not waiting for a reply, he walked over to the nearby table. "Excuse me."

            "Yeah, what?"

            "First of all, she is correct." He nodded at Trish. "I am an AI, and I just walked out of Incarna Corps about twenty minutes ago. Second, yes, we have better hearing then most. It has to do with our ability to better process information." He shrugged. "Just figured that I would settle the argument."

            "Thanks." She stood, offering her hand. "I'm Patricia, Trish for short."

            "Trish, he's a robot. Why the hell are you introducing yourself? If he's brand-new it's not like he knows better."

            ROB winced. "I'm sixteen years old. Miss."

            Fox, watching this, frowned when he saw hurt spread over ROB's face, and walked over, crossing his arms. "What's up?" He asked quietly.

            "What, you're his owner?"

            "God, Courtney, shut up." Trish rubbed her eyes. "Pardon my friend, she's bigoted."

            "A lot of people seem to be. It's ok." ROB turned away. "Let's go, Fox."

            She watched them walk away, the AI with its shoulders hunched, and wheeled on her friend, scowling. "Was that necessary? To be so mean to him?!"

            "He'll get over it." Courtney rubbed her eyes. "God, girl. He isn't even alive."

            "He still feels! You are such a witch sometimes…

            ROB let his senses focus elsewhere, hugging himself. Most AIs were used to some criticism, there were always people that were wary of them, but it had never burned like this, a hurt deep inside him. He pulled back a bit, trying to analyze his own feelings. Why ache like this for something so minor? Was this what living people went through?

            Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he glanced to the side, and saw Slippy was there. "Are you ok?"

            "Yes. I am. It's just…"

            "I know."

            "I always get lost in malls." Fox remarked, staring at a directory. "Ok, let's start with the basics. Shirts, jeans, stuff like that. You know your sizes ROB?"

            He considered, and numbers popped into his head. "Yes, I think so."

            "Let's go then."

            "White isn't a bad color, but you look better in blue. You don't wash out as badly." The store employee, a college student named Rick, had eagerly agreed to help ROB assemble a wardrobe, and was now studying the results.

            "I, um, well… I guess I'll have to take your word for it." ROB scratched one of his ears. "Please don't stare so much, you're making me feel strange."

            "Sorry, just trying to help."

            "Poor ROB." Slippy chuckled, leaning against a wall and watching this. "I think Rick's trying to flirt with him."

            "I shopped here before, he tried to flirt with me too, but he tries to flirt with everyone, so I try to ignore it." Fox replied. "But he's good at making people look good."

            "I'm not sure ROB needs to look good. I mean, he's still the ship AI, he won't be out and about too much."

            "That's the thing, I'm not sure I would feel right about making him stay on the ship. Before, yes, he was wired in. Now he's going to be on a wireless setup, isn't he?"

            "Well, yes, but…" Slippy frowned. "We're just going to have to ease into this I guess."

            "Yes indeed. From impersonal robot to some semblance of living. Quite a step."

            "Well, I think we're done here." Rick said, sending a smile at Fox. "He's pretty well set."

            "Thanks Rick, I owe you."

            "You owe me about two hundred dollars, sweetie."

            Fox rolled his eyes and passed his debit card with a sigh. "How do you feel ROB?"

            "I'm good." ROB played with the edge of the new shirt he was wearing. It was colored a rich royal blue, setting off his eyes. "I'm not certain I understand the purpose of all this clothing. One or two sets, but all this?"

            "Clothing isn't just for function." Rick tapped ROB on the nose, making him blink and wince back. "There's a good bit of fun in it too. It's a way to express yourself."

            "Hence why Falco and I dress completely differently." Fox remarked. "Ready to go, ROB?"

            "I suppose so." Picking up the bags, he followed Fox and Slippy out of the store, continuing to play with the edge of his shirt as they stood on an escalator. Clothing. So simple, yet so strange to him. He had never had to wear it before, and now could feel how soft the fabric was, hear it rustle as he walked.

            "Anything else you need?" Slippy asked absently, glancing at a video game display.

            "Actually, um, is there a bookstore in this mall?" ROB smiled sheepishly. "There's a book I want to read…"

            "What book?" Fox asked, lifting an eyebrow. "The last thing I remember you ever reading was Dr. Suess."

            "What?" Slippy asked, and was ignored.

            "Art of War. Your father kept his copy in his arwing, so it was destroyed when… well, um, anyway." ROB coughed, looking away as the painful memory struck him again. "I always wanted to read it, but I never got a chance to, and I can't find a copy online. I've tried."

            "I didn't know that. Hm. I don't see why not."

            Peppy looked up, smiling when Fox came into the galley. "Well, you were gone a while. How did it go?"

            "Quite well, actually. It's a bit of a shock, though."

            "It's a shock for me, too." ROB said, stepping into the galley. "Hi, Peppy. What do you think? I'm still not used to it, but…"

            "ROB? Well, that is an improvement." He lifted an eyebrow, giving the new body an once-over. "You seem to have gotten shorter."

            "Yeah. But I had been tall for sixteen years, I figured I could try something else."

            He chuckled. "Well, it will make you easier to relate to."

            ROB drifted over, leaning on the counter and staring at the coffee pot. "This does smell good. Does it taste as good as it smells?"

            "No, unfortunately not. You can try some…"

            "No, I can't. I can't eat or drink. That's one thing that has not been worked into AIs yet. There wouldn't be a point to it." He shrugged. "They're working on it."

            "Ah. Well, are you going to take the spare bedroom then?"

            "Why do I need a bed? I don't sleep. I can recharge on the bridge." He frowned.

            The trio exchanged a glance. "ROB, I think it's safe to say that would make us a bit uncomfortable." Slippy said slowly. "You look alive. There is no reason why you shouldn't sleep in a bed, even if you're just imitating sleeping."

            "But, I…" He frowned again, scratching one of his ears. "I don't understand. I look like a person, so you insist on treating me as one? Why?"

            "It's not just that you look like one. I mean come on, you're acting confused. You never did that before." Fox replied, sighing. "It's your choice, we can't force you. You should probably keep your clothes there though."

            "That I can't argue with."

            Later on, ROB wasn't sure why he had argued the bed.

            He found himself laying on his stomach on it, propped on his elbows, using one had to turn pages absently. He could understand now why James had had so many hardbound books. There was something about the smell, the feel of the paper: it was soothing, like talking to an old friend, welcoming.

            He traced the words with one finger absently, letting the words spin through his mind, making the effort to record stray passages that he liked into his permanent memory. It must be so hard, he thought, to not have control over what you want to remember and what you don't. True, he remembered everything, but he didn't have to think about it all the time. He didn't get stuck with flashbacks like some people did, like Fox did…

            He closed his eyes, reaching through the wireless connection, mental fingers ticking down through a long, long list of dates. Sixteen years, dated, archived in perfection, and he found the day he was looking for, opening the file and clicking through the hours until he found the discussion. The scene opened up in his mind, and suddenly he was there. Usually he could passively watch his own memories, like some sort of 16 millimeter reel: watching something of the past out of interest. But now he was there, in his old body, looking at James who sat across form him, feeling that faint happiness and contentment.

            "… General Pepper has a set of missions for us, he said he'd send you the specs." James was saying, looking at a PDA, scratching one of his tall ears with the touch pen. "Did Beltino get the repairs done?"

            "Yes, he did. He said it wasn't hard." He replied, lacing his fingers over his chest absently.

            "May I ask you something strange?" James turned off the PDA, looking at him.

            "Go ahead Commander."

            "Look, Mr. I-Have-A-Kodak-Memory, you should know by now to call me James." Shaking his head when the robot only let out a rasping laugh at this comment, he sighed. "Are you happy, ROB?"

            "What do you mean?"

            "I feel like we've done you a disservice. You could be getting much better care on a military cruiser, but you're stuck here on a mercenary fast-attack ship."

            ROB reached across and caught one of James' hands, imitating something he had seen Peppy do. "Why would I care? I may not have such a tight maintenance schedule, but you talk to me, and that's a lot more then many AIs get out of their owners. I am extremely happy here."

            James looked at his hand, which was almost entirely encased in the robot's fingers, and nodded once. "That's good, then. I was wondering. You don't talk much."

            "I don't have to." ROB let go.

            "Hm." He stood, rubbing the back of his neck. "Why do they use the term AI? Artificial Intelligence? It seems so dated."

            "I don't understand your question."

            He shrugged, turning to leave the bridge, but said one last thing over his shoulder. "It should be changed to AL. Artificial Life." The door hissed closed behind him.

            ROB jolted back to himself, surprised that he had lifted a hand and outreached it to the dream image, and let his hand fall, curling up on the bed with the book hugged to his chest. So, he did have flashbacks. And even as he lay there, he felt a strange combination of painful ache and dizzy elation, happy to relive the memory, to see his original owner again, but hurting so badly because he was gone, because James was gone and would never return.

            No one had ever asked him what he thought about it, how he felt about the death of his long time friend, owner, and commander. It had struck him, somehow, he had stopped speaking almost completely for days on end, absorbed in his thoughts, mourning as best he could. Now, with a full emotions chipset, the pain saved rocked him, and his eyes pressed closed, not realizing his first tears were starting to run.