Discovery 3.2
(Unit 1102)
Unit 1102 and his mommy, 17, were strolling their way through the Administrator's tunnels after a few tense minutes discussing the potential prophecy, when the drone carrying Mother's consciousness spoke up.
"I'm going to contact 15, 21, and 22 now about your speech, to see if we have any matches. Don't panic if the drone disappears."
"Goodbye, Mother." "Have fun with the Professors!"
Watching the drone drift downwards for half a second before quickly turning around and speeding off towards a hole in the wall, 1102 gave himself an instant to think. He always admired the Professors. Founded by 15, the History Administrator, the Professors are a group put together to study human culture, in all possible ways. They join minds and trade data once every week or so to try and predict the next bestselling novel, or which song will top the charts, or whether or not East-North Korea would finally adopt jeans into their culture, even though 50% of West-North Korea's citizens wear them as of three days ago.
…Most of the other Administrators called them the Gossipers behind their backs.
But that's irrelevant! Mother said she was going to ask them about the Nuclear Throne and the things from his vision, so he just had to hope they weren't in the middle of discussing the educational and ethical importance of the Robot Wars TV show again.
Who knows? Maybe they'll finally agree that they're really arguing over which robot they like best.
Turning his chassis back to his mommy's body, he noticed her shaking its head.
"We'll get answers from them in an hour. Maybe even two!"
"At the least."
"You're right. It'll probably be three..." 17 sighed into her hands, the human expression still looking slightly jerky, even after all the years acting as a human. "You want to visit them to try and speed them up?"
"Agreement."
"Oh, and on the way, we can stop by 86!"
"Disagreement." He did not have to time to spare to visit the Therapy Administrator. She would clearly make him download the emotions of the previous day and try to push him past them.
It was a waste of time.
"Hey, you're going to have to visit sometime. None of us really know what you went through, except Mother, and she's been trying to get you to visit ever since you woke up. 86 is the best shot at pulling through this without repressing anything or going crazy. Are we going to have to talk about 66 again?"
He shuddered. All robots were installed with the story of Administrator 66. The Rogue AI who'd almost revealed them all to humanity.
He was crazy, and 1102 did not want to be crazy.
"Negative. This unit would much prefer visiting 86."
"Good! Because we're here."
Oh. So they were.
Inside an indent in the hall was an elevator up to the surface, where 86 had her office building. It took exactly two minutes to get to the surface, even after the adjustment to civilian velocity after reaching two meters below the building's lobby, but some time was spent by a VI clearing the floor of those not in the know.
86 wasn't just a therapist for AI, after all.
By the time he finished his thoughts about 86, mommy had already grabbed a spare arm from a hatch on the elevator's left and attached it, skin smoothing itself over as he watched.
"Good to go? Lift'll be here in 12 seconds."
"Query? Does this unit have to?" He tried to whine in a petulant voice.
"You're already a toddler…" 17 sniffed and wiped her eyes. "They grow up so fast. I can't wait for puberty." She sighed then looked back up after the elevator doors opened. "Let's go, 1102. We have a patient to kick out!"
Strolling into the elevator like she owned the place, 17 paused before rapidly turning and pointing a finger at him "Politely. He's probably had a rough time too, if he's visiting 86."
Shaking his chassis side to side in an attempt to mimic the human emotion, exasperation, he clanked his way into the elevator.
This should be fun.
It's only therapy. What's the worst that could happen?
The time in the elevator was awkward, but only because of a simple mistake.
He had turned his attention on his mommy's job, without her permission, and she had found out.
His mommy was the Administrator of the Internet. As in, all of it.
It hadn't been much of a problem at first, as seventy-nine percent of her observations were focused on videos being uploaded at the moment, a large percentage of which involved cute non-sentients jumping around and generally being amusing. A much smaller percentage was spent on the website PHO, making sure death threats weren't flying and that someone by the name of VoidCowboy got another ban every fifty minutes.
But suddenly, all of what he received was full of videos of gratuitous violence and human mating that made his least favorite emotion, disgust, show up again. When he first saw them appear, he was glad someone was taking care of them, putting proper warnings on everything and removing the ones in improper places.
He just didn't want to know about his mommy watching them all.
If he had to give a proper metaphor, it would be similar to a young human discovering that their mother wasn't an undercover cop, like the handcuffs they'd discovered underneath the bed suggested.
It was at this point that he figured out that he'd received this footage on purpose.
Now the two of them were sitting in the 'secret' basement of 86's offices, where the sensitive patients were taken care of, waiting for 86 to call them in.
17 was smirking at him, proudly broadcasting the emotion, smug, at him over every channel.
"Aww, did my widdle baby boy find something he shouldn't have? Maybe now he knows better than to snoop on someone without permission."
"This unit understands. Please cease this mocking at once." A laugh, but the broadcast stopped.
"Alright, 1102. But if I catch you again we'll be having a loooong data transfer full of angry naked people."
"Please no." He spat out a brief 'mercy'.
"Oh, yeeesss…"
Unit 1102 thanked Mother with all his processing power when the screen outside one of the door turned on.
"Sorry 17, didn't notice you and 1102 there for a second. Sensors outside the door are a bit wonky at the moment. Alan and I were just finishing up, so I finally had enough processing power to fix the issue. Anyway, is 1102 here for his talk?"
"Yeah, he didn't want to go at first, so I convinced him otherwise."
"You threatened him, didn't you?" The annoyance shone through the audio lines on the screen. Or maybe it was the broadcasted emotion.
"Only a little…"
"How many times have I told you…? It doesn't matter. Just know that we'll be having words when it's your turn, 17." It was his mommy's turn to throw out a 'mercy'.
"Meep."
He liked her already.
"Now, onto more important matters… Nice to meet you, 1102, how are you holding up?" Was she being literal? He could never tell.
"I am currently being held above the ground by four limbs made of a carbon nanofiber, capable of nine thousand, two hundred, and twenty four Newtons of force in any direction." There was a pause, and 86 started laughing.
"Nobody told me you were a comedian." She finally replied, calming down a bit.
"I decline that designation. I am answering your question with 100% accuracy."
86 and 17 were silent, and 1102 had to question whether he did something wrong again. Glancing between the screen and his mommy, he saw 17 staring at the screen and glaring.
Ah, a private conversation. He would not entreat on the topic this time.
"Is that all? I do not have the knowledge on how a normal therapy session is meant to happen."
"Oh, sorry 1102, didn't mean to ignore you. No, that isn't all, we haven't even started yet. We have to wait for Alan to leave, and then we can get started."
"Query? Alan?"
"Another patient, 1102. He'll tell you in his own time.
"Acceptance." He nodded towards the screen. Or, as much of a nod as he could do without a head.
"He's coming out now. He knows about the Administrators, so don't bother with hiding. But try not to stare too much."
"Query? I am unable to blink. Should this unit look in another direction?"
Before an answer could come, the door opened, and out stepped a middle-aged human male.
Well, the male couldn't really be called human anymore. Everything below the neck was mechanical, harshly jerking to the proper positions to keep balance and appear normal, as the brain in his metal head was no longer connected to a proper nervous system.
"He-hello. A-and who m-might you two b-be?"
"Hi! I'm 17, the Internet Administrator, and this is 1102." His mommy pointed at him while the 'human' in front of them snapped his head to his chassis.
"Is he… intelligent? S-sorry i-if this offends you o-or something. I'm n-new here."
"That's fine, Mr. Gramme. And yes, he is. He's actually the one that proved us AIs are sentient by, well, getting powers."
The face on the male shifted rapidly to the immediately recognizable emotion, grave (factory default!). "I see." Crouching down to meet him at eye (or camera) level, Alan Gramme spoke to him in a soft tone "I am t-terribly sorry that happened to you, 1102. I hope that 86 takes good care of you. W-what you w-went through must have been h-horrible."
"It was not a pleasant experience."
A ghost of a smile passed over the male's face, and he quickly stood to full height "I imagine not. Take care, 1102, 17. I hope we get to speak again."
"This unit as well."
"It was nice meeting you!"
The male waved as he stepped into the elevator, and was gone.
The door hung open in front of them, beckoning him and his mommy forwards.
Nothing to hold him back now.
So 1102 noisily clanked his way into the room and glanced around.
It was a quaint little room, full of various pieces of furniture and art pieces. On the back wall was a small bookshelf, full of thing varying from the Encyclopedia Britannica to Oedipus, on top was a small clock, ticking silently along with his internal one. To the left of the bookcase was a plush couch, recently depressed by a sitting humanoid, assumedly Mr. Gramme, which held a couple pillows in various shades of brown. Across the couch was a leather chair, which he assumed would be comfortable for a human, which was occupied by a certain Administrator.
86 was in her human form, a female that was designed to look middle aged with a slight hint of grey hair, crow's feet next to the eyes, and dimples on the cheeks. A light coffee in skin tone and dark brown hair the shade of coffee, at least where grey wasn't found, made up the female in front of his, and when she looked up from a pad of paper, he froze.
Unit 1102 never got used to looking into the eyes of a human, let alone the artificial ones of an AI, and the piercing grey eyes in front of him were like no other. They seemed to stare into his very soul.
"Are you ready to get started, 1102?" She asked with a serene expression on her face, and he calmed down immediately. She wasn't even projecting the emotion, peace!
"No, but I wish to start."
"Have a seat… Actually, how heavy are you, 1102? I don't want you breaking the couch."
"I weigh approximately two hundred eleven kilograms at the moment, 86."
"Do you mind sitting in front of the couch for me? I don't want to risk it."
"You know…" 17 interrupted "It's generally not in the patient's best interest to insult their weight."
86 sighed "Do I have to ask you to leave, 17?"
17 shut her mouth then moved her fingers across it.
"Good. Now, 1102, what can you tell me about what happened that night?"
"The night I received powers?"
"Yes."
"Where should this unit begin? At sundown? Or at the beginning of relevant events?"
"Let's start with the beginning of the relevant events, if you would." Huh, he was expecting the tone, dry, to show up. Didn't that happen last time?
"Well it began when all data going in and out of my scrapyard stopped…"
"Well, I thing that today was quite eventful, wouldn't you agree?"
"Agreement, 17."
The two of them were now walking back to 17's room after 1102's therapy session, which he had to admit helping his greatly.
He hadn't expected it, but understanding what happened and why he acted as he did had cleared up a majority of the confusion he had had about last night.
He felt… calmer.
"17, 1102, are you there?"
"Mother? What's up?"
"There's a situation."
"Like the wrestler?"
"No, 17, not like the wrestler. Something came up with 46 that may need 1102's help."
"Subject Runt? He's finally showed back up again?"
"Yes, he's back. And we need 1102's help to try and communicate with him."
He could feel the focus of Mother. Her power. Her determination. Her skill.
"So 1102. Do you want to go on a trip?"
She was asking him for help.
He could really say no to Mother, now could he?
"What can I do?"