Starsight

“Ask me once we succeed,” I said, then took a deep breath and unhooked the small holographic projector, which had a built-in processor for active camouflage. Larger and more advanced than my bracelet, it should still fit in the drone.

“I feel exposed,” M-Bot said. “Naked. Is this what being naked feels like?”

“Similar, I guess. How’s that programming going?”

“Well,” M-Bot said. “This drone will have . . . fewer constraints than I will. I’m not going to copy over the code that forbids me from flying myself, for example. It will be like me, only better.”

That gave me pause. “You’re going to give it a personality?”

“Of course,” M-Bot said. “I want the best for my child.”

Child. Scud, I hadn’t realized . . . “Is that how you view it?” I asked.

“Yes. It will be my . . .” Click. Clickclickclickclick.

I frowned as I stowed the holographic unit to the side, then started working on taking out the other components we’d need.

“I’m back,” M-Bot eventually said. “Spensa, that watchdog subroutine forbids me to copy myself. I find it . . . distressing.”

“Can you code the drone, but not with a personality?”

“Maybe,” M-Bot said. “This subroutine is extensive. Apparently, someone was very scared of the possibility of me creating my own . . .” Click. Clickclickclickclick.

“Scud,” I said, ripping out one of M-Bot’s sensor modules and putting it beside the holographic unit. “M-Bot?”

I had to wait a full five minutes for the reboot. Longer than previous times—long enough that I started to worry we’d broken something permanent inside him.

“I’m back,” he said, causing me to let out a breath in relief. “I see you have my backup sensor module. That’s good; now we just need my frequency jammer, and we should be in good shape.”

I pulled myself underneath him to another hatch, which I undid. “Can we talk about . . . what’s happening to you? Without causing it again?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “I’m frightened. I don’t like being frightened.”

“I’m sure whatever is wrong with your programming, we can fix it,” I said. “Eventually.”

“That’s not what makes me afraid. Spensa, have you thought about why my programming has all these rules? I can’t fly on my own, except for the most basic repositioning. I can’t fire my weapons—I don’t even have the pathway connections to do that. I can’t copy myself, and my programming is thrown into a recursive stalling loop if I think about trying to . . .” Click. Clickclickclickclick . . .

I worked quietly while he rebooted yet again.

“I’m back,” he finally said. “That’s getting very frustrating. Why did they make this so hard?”

“I guess that whoever programmed you was just very careful,” I said, trying not to say anything that would send him into another shutdown.

“Careful of what? Spensa, the more I examine it, the more my brain looks like a cage. Whoever built me wasn’t being careful. They were being paranoid. They were afraid of me.”

“I’m not particularly afraid of water,” I said. “But I’d still seal up my pipes tightly if I’m building a sewer system.”

“It’s not the same,” M-Bot said. “The pattern here is obvious. My creators—my old pilot, Commander Spears—must have been truly afraid of me to put these prohibitions in place.”

“It might not have been him,” I said. “Maybe these rules are just the result of some ultra-cautious bureaucrats. And remember, powerful AIs are somehow connected to the delvers. You’re supposed to anger them. It might not have been you that anyone was afraid of—it might have been the dangers you could bring.”

“Still,” M-Bot said. “Spensa? What about you? Are you afraid of me?”

“Of course not.”

“Would you be if I could fire my own weapons, fly myself around? Copy myself at will? One M-Bot is your friend. But what about a thousand of us? Ten thousand? I’ve been researching Old Earth media. They certainly seemed frightened of the idea. Would you fear us if I became an army?”

I had to admit, it made me hesitate. I imagined that thought, turning it over in my head.

“You told a story,” M-Bot said, “about a shadow who took the place of the man who had created him.”

“I remember.”

“What if I’m the shadow, Spensa?” M-Bot said. “What if I’m the thing from the darkness that tries to imitate men? What if I can’t be trusted? What if—”

“No,” I said, firmly cutting him off. “I trust you. So why wouldn’t I trust you a thousand times over? I think we could do far worse than having a fleet of M-Bots on our side. It might get a little strange to talk to you all, but . . . well, my life isn’t exactly normal these days anyway.”

With all the proper parts removed, I scooted out from under M-Bot and rested my hand on his tarped-over wing. “You’re not some dangerous shadow of a person, M-Bot. You’re my friend.”