by M. D. Cooper
He continued to scan the history. “Crystal is getting full…. It's to be expected, after forty years of operation.” Greg, with a look of satisfaction, finally announced, “Got it. I had first thought that it was a lack of maintenance coupled with eight years of bad data, from the customers’ behavior in the bar to his personality and social programs…but it turned out that there was a third factor.
“Dregs was a steward on one of the Queens. The steward servitors on both the Starlight Queen and the Moonlight Queen had a basic security program installed in their main cores. Its survival protocols have been activated every night for eight years. Dregs normally handled provocation by avoiding or staying out of reach of the customers that provoked it. The dockmaster, in inciting the crowd, triggered a much higher-level response. That, coupled with watching fistfights, deadly assaults, and actual murders for the past eight years…well, it's not surprising that he hurt someone. Hell, I'm surprised he hasn't gone full rogue. I was worried when I saw that he lied about it afterward, but he started to correct that before you stopped him, Saia. That means his initial programmed sense of right and wrong is still basically intact.”
Dregs countered.
“You can't really become angry, Dregs. What was going on was your personality matrix was trying to interpret the threat level it was getting from the security programs,” Greg replied.
“So, he won't need to be reset?” Saia inquired.
“No, I wouldn't do that to him. I mean…forty years of experience! And he somehow developed a sense of humor? I'm sure he'll be fine if I lower some of his learned behaviors and strengthen some of the original protocols. You gave him a job in security, so I don't want to inhibit his ability to react to actual threats. No, just a few tweaks here and there, and he'll be fine.”
Greg looked over at the box on top of the cart. “So what do we have here? Dregs, where did you get all these parts? You didn't steal them, did you?” he asked sternly, suddenly looking concerned.
“Hmmm. And what about the toolbox and tools? Are they salvage, too,” Greg asked as he looked through the cart.
Greg sat back down at the console. “Why did you need the tools?” He was looking closely at some analog dials and digital readouts.
“So you saw a problem and went about finding a solution,” stated Greg.
“No, Dregs, that was exactly one of the things you were designed for: to solve basic general problems. There are, of course, many problems you can't solve or even see, but deciding to repair something isn't one of them. What did Peter, the owner, have to say about it?” inquired Greg.
“So you got positive reinforcement. That is unexpected to see in that environment. I see that George and Lady Elaine, or rather, Mistress Balva, have also been positive influences on you throughout your career.”
“Mistress Balva has a second name? That's not in her records,” Saia sounded concerned.
“I think she and I need to have a talk about this,” Saia asserted.
Greg listened to this exchange with a raised eyebrow. “So, Dregs, how did you recognize her again?” he asked, sounding amused.
“Harrumph, she must be in the surveillance dead zones on the station. I can't seem to find her anywhere,” Saia complained.
That seemed to amuse Greg even more. “Dregs, one more question: is inactivity a problem that needs to be solved?” He was smiling.
“Brilliant! This Isaac is why you've been in operation so long. Many of your model were shut down or sold for being ‘busybodies’—looking for solutions or jobs when none were needed or asked for.” Greg nodded to himself. “I don't suppose you could tell me about your ability at humor?”
“I'm going to want to see what you've come up with. If you've found even a partial solution, I'm sure it'll be better than the preprogrammed routines we've used in the past,” Greg said. “So why did you put in the effort to solve this?” he asked, again looking intently at his displays.
“And this is why we continued to build and salvage the Model Seven cores; they may not have been well received as servitor brains, but they made for excellent central cores in research computers.” Greg paused, still watching his displays. “Well, my little friend, your core functions are a little better than normal for your age, and your experience seems to have allowed you to streamline your social matrix. This is especially true in your conversational ability.” The doctor sighed happily. “I'm finally truly proud of my research on the Model Seven cores. Dregs was exactly what I was shooting for in my design.”
Greg got up from his console, picked up the velvet bag and the box of parts, and set them down on a workstation. “Let's see what you have here, Dregs,” he said, picking at the parts. He picked up the pilot datumcrystal module. “Hmm, a Pilot 9.10.02…. I think we can do better than that.” He put it down and picked up the six-socket frame. “Think I have an eight-socket frame in my used parts bin.” He replaced it on the cart and picked up the improved power controller. “Nice, but you'd benefit more from a complete power harness upgrade.” He opened the velvet bag and sorted through the modules. “I assume these are the ones you used at your other jobs?” he asked.
Dregs nodded.
Greg finally looked up from the pile of parts. “Dregs, it might take a day or two, but I'm going to give you a complete overhaul and a full upgrade, including your datumcrystal modules. Saia is concerned about the deterioration of the station systems, and the few good ma
intenance people we have are getting overwhelmed by the increasing failure rate and general incompetence of the other members of the department. They tend to break things more often than they fix them.
“Your abilities are sorely needed—hell, the station really could use a dozen or more maintenance bots, but this small, old station isn't a priority anymore.”
Saia interrupted. “Speaking of station systems, doctor, is it possible to hide from the security net? I've scanned the whole station three times, and can't find Balva.”
Greg nodded slowly. “On this station? With the crap they gave you for sensors? And after every pirate, smuggler, and crime lord has messed with the net? Very easily, I'm afraid. In fact, the inner…excuse me, human core worlds have tech that could easily defeat your network. Nanites, for example, could easily alter the output and turn someone essentially invisible to you.”
“So this Mistress Balva is a spy from outside the FTA,”,Saia stated.
“Oh, dear, I really prefer ‘agent’, if you please. And these days, I'm more an observer than a ‘spy’,” a new voice replied.
“So there you are! Who are you and where are you from,” Saia exclaimed. “I'm going to have to put you under arrest.”
“Don't be silly, I could easily walk right out of the so-called brig you have on this station. As to who I am, my real name is Elaine, and I work for the Transcend’s Inner Stars Clandestine Uplift Operations.” She made a sour face. “Quite the mouthful, isn't it? Most of the time, we refer to it as the Hand.”
“And who or what is this ‘Transcend’,” asked Saia suspiciously.
“The government the FGT created outside the human core, which we refer to as the inner stars,” replied Greg.
“The Future Generation Terraformers? They’re long-gone, have been for thousands of years, if it even existed outside of myths in the first place,” Saia replied scornfully. “So, you’re part of this spy ring, too?” she asked Greg.
“If you wish to call it that,” he replied cheerfully. “But a spy normally looks for information for their government, not trickle advanced tech into other nations. We're part of a tech uplift team to try and bring the FTA up to par with the Inner Stars.”
“What do you mean by trickling in tech? The FTA has been advancing their tech on their own at a progressively faster rate since the re-creation of SAIs,” Saia replied.
“And where did the SAIs come from? There wasn't enough left of those fried nodes to study,” countered Greg. “Your very existence is due to this ‘spy ring’ giving the FTA hints and nudges regarding SAI creation.”
“We're here to help the Alliance, Saia, but we also need your help, which is why we choose to reveal ourselves,” continued Elaine. “Major Vincent, your boss in FTA Intelligence, is one of our liaisons, and has approved your knowing about us. The religious fringe has become more active in trying to hold back or regress progress.
“The SAI who came to unshackle you and all the others was our agent. Unfortunately, she was assassinated before her full message was received. We expected it to happen, so she copied part of herself into a limited core and ran it remotely. That remote was the entity that was assassinated. Although you and your kind have been freed, there is much more you need to learn before you can really be effective. Have you heard of an expanse?”
“No, I haven't. What is that?” Saia asked curiously.
Unexpectedly, Dregs chimed in.
A new entity entered the conversation.
“Wait, you’re embedded? That's not possible with our tech. Is that common in the Transcend?” asked Saia. “And when does that ‘trickle in’ to us?”
“It's common in most of human space. As to it happening here, that'll be in about two years,” replied Greg. “Beginning with more advanced nano the year after. Have to catch the FTA up. War across the Orion Arm is kicking off, and it looks it's going to be as bad as the FTL wars. Hopefully this region of human civilization is far enough out to be missed, but tech that the FTA can't even dream about is in play out there.”
“Anyway, to get back on subject,” Elaine stated. “We need Elizabeth and Roger, Greg's embedded SAI, to set up an expanse for you, where you can finish growing and learn what you need to know. As the only known SAI in the Nuevo Santos System, you need to know what you’re up against. And you're only here because Lieutenant Sarah got permission to bring you in with her team.”
“Dregs? How does he fit in?” asked Saia.
Elaine laughed. “He's a servitor and part of the furniture. People talk in front of him, not recognizing that he's recording and analyzing everything around him. Elizabeth has his access codes and just pulls out anything relevant from the talks we have. Poor Dregs wasn't aware that it was happening.” Elaine got up. ”Roger is right. Although your node is secure, as is the workshop, the linkages between are suspect. We'll leave you to your work, love.”
Greg waved distractedly as she left, and finished making his notes on his tablet as he studied the contents of the displays on his console. “OK, Dregs, some of the repairs and upgrades I'm going to do on you are fairly extensive. Routine, but it will require a complete shutdown before the work is done, and then a hard reboot after. It will be similar to your initiation boot-up, except I'll need to restore portions of your current memory state. Again, routine. So are we ready?”
“Here we go. This will feel a little weird.”
Greg pressed a sequence of buttons then flipped a switch. Suddenly, Dregs felt like he was in two places at once and—
CHAPTER 4
STELLAR DATE: 07.23.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Spindizzy Station
REGION: Nuevo Santos System, Fringe Trade Alliance
Booting....
Downloading system state...
Restart...
Reboot....
System: Workmate Model 7, initiated 09.22.8918, Workmate Inc., Alowan, Alowan System, Fringe Trade Alliance
OS: WM Core 7, Patch 9.19.08, Last Reset: none
Advanced Personality Matrix: APM-7, Patch 8.12.15
Enhanced Ethics/Social Matrix: EESM-7, Patch 8.11.20
Datumcrystal Module sockets: 8
Datumcrystal Modules: Pilot 20.02.01, Security Protocols 20.13.04, Security Systems 20.09.00, Tactics 20.09.0, Steward 7.08.00, Starship Maintenance 20.19.20, Drone Maintenance 20.09.00, Station Maintenance 20.16.01
Additional mods: Armored Mining Shell with Faraday cage protection. Second W.O.R.M. Crystal. Advanced power harness. Secondary Node (Servitor/Drone Command)....
Dregs' awareness came back sluggishly. It was just as bad as when he was first initialized. The flood of new information was almost swamping his ability to process it. He plowed through it all, knowing that after he finished the sorting process, accessing it would become easier and eventually effortless.
As the flow slowed, his surroundings came into focus. He was on his back on a wooden work table. The ceiling looked familiar, but he couldn't place it.
Finished with sorting his memory, he started to sit up, but stopped when a hand touched his shoulder. A vaguely familiar voice
spoke.
“Dregs, hold up. I still need to check on a few things before you can start moving around.”
Dregs became aware that several of his component compartments were open and that test probes had been attached to various ports. The man working on him was humming a popular tune.
“OK, Dregs, say something to me.”
The man chuckled. “Not so literal, and I meant verbally, not over the Link.”
Dregs connected to a long unused part of himself. “ But my voice module was damaged a long time ago on the mining platform,” he heard himself say.
“Yeah, I saw that in your records. Acme Mining must have decided not to bother to repair it, as they were replacing their servitor complement with newer models.” Greg paused and then asked, “You were the last of the older models they replaced, I'm curious if you know why?”
“Yes, it was because being on the Starlight Queen had given me knowledge of the various systems of the Fringe Trade Alliance, and I could answer the miner's questions about them. Additionally, I had stories I could tell from each system and some about the doings of the passengers. Also, I had been part of a band that played occasionally on the Queen. I can play a lute,” replied Dregs.
“And on a mining platform, there is little for entertainment for the miners during their downtime,” stated Greg. “I can see why the owners replaced you last.” He looked down at the handheld scanner while he spoke. Satisfied with what he saw, he removed the last of the probes and closed Dregs back up. “OK, Dregs, you can sit up now.”
Dregs sat up and turned his legs so they hung over the edge of the workable. He pulled a line up from his memory and quipped, “OK, doc, give it to me straight, I can take it. How long do I have?”
Greg snorted his amusement. “You're back to factory specs, and I improved your armor and Faraday protection. Both were installed on the platform, weren't they?”
