Post by Maxine on Jul 21, 2020 7:42:48 GMT -8
<What do you think? The activation takes a lot of energy, but it’s definitely usable. I’d like to look into more offensive uses for the system in the future, too. It’s a bit – impersonal?>
<It’s not good enough for the field yet. The wireless is unencrypted, and it’s as you say – the activation is too costly. I’d be handicapped while starting it up before combat, particularly if my enemies had the jump on me. That’s too great a cost.>
<Uuugh, you’re such a pain! It’s never going to be perfect! You’re not a war machine, remember? And, it has so many other uses! It’s not just a defence device!>
<Streamline the activation – until then, I can’t use it. I would like to give you more options to assist, Two, but this won’t help me right now. My work has to be efficient if I want to keep up with modern androids, or even fellow freelancers.>
<Right, right, fiiiiiine. Don’t hold out on me though, okay?! I’ve done a lot for you! Don’t forget it!>
Maxine could understand Two’s frustration, as bizarre as it was to propose that an AI could feel such a thing – but, it seemed Doctor Unid had a vested interest in artificial emotion simulation that had affected even his operating system AI. Despite being the AI that had been given the most development time and iterations compared to the rest of the Unid Numbers, Two had only had a physical shell on a rare few occasions; and even then, it’d only been for experimental purposes. It was little surprise she felt so compelled to have a shell of her own, after being stuck looking through Maxine’s sensors in the meantime.
Or, more to the point, she probably felt constrained by the powers that Maxine could afford her. She wasn’t sure if it could be considered more or less restrained compared to her OS being left unused on a console for a long time, but at the moment she could do little but browse Maxine’s internal documents and offer added parallel processing power. It was probably a step down from having a laboratory’s worth of hardware to work with.
But – even with that in mind, it was a question that Maxine found on her mind a lot.
It seemed to be in the nature of sentient beings to treat others like themselves; to personify them. However, she had to wonder; did many of them consider whether or not that was fair? Even Maxine herself, as a machine, found it confronting. Even alienating. And yet, she was also doing the same to Two at the moment; and had done the same for many other androids. She was somewhere in-between. A machine built to pretend to be an earthling… but, not to be truly human, either.
Too old to be a machine of any worth, and too young to be a sentient of any worth…
The android slumped in her chair. Her room was a freakshow here in the Zen Tea House – where the building was a beautiful example of the Western Lands’ architecture, her room had gradually been infected with the conveniences of the Central Lands that had characterised what little personality her original apartment had. Certainly, she could appreciate elegance, and as she had grown up with the Duchies she had a deep respect for their heritage and culture… but, when it came to her own dealings, she had to be practical. And so, like the android that lived among demons, metal and plastic had slunk in amongst the wood and paper.
A full desk and office chair were the most outstanding additions; much to the displeasure of Shortcake – Maxine might be in the servants’ quarters, but she ought to stick to their traditions! The stack of mainframes were less expansive, but their black casings and flickering LEDs were no less out of place. Thankfully, she had no need for a monitor, but many of her clients still insisting on pen and paper for official documents, so she had to account for that… and, that wardrobe behind sliding doors was full of suits and firearms, rather than kimonos and sandals. O-Of course, Maxine did have her own traditional uniform for particularly special meetings, but it wasn’t the image she liked to project. She was an outsider, a professional for work such venerable organisations would not wish to dirty their hands with.
And yet, here that professional was, dawdling in the property of one of the venerable families. She was not sure what to make of the Tea Family so far. They had brought her on board so quickly… she could not help but feel some suspicions. There was a tradition that yakuza should show hospitality for their guests, especially if they come from another family; but she had the feeling this was building up to something. Juniper… too gentle to be a killer, or silk covering steel? And Koma… a classic firebrand, but she couldn’t be certain he had the wisdom to back up his newfound position. And all their strange comrades… perhaps strangest of all, this useless machine they called ‘Maxine’.
She could not help but give a sigh. They were all so young. Saiyans aged so slowly, their prime lasting on and on; demons, too – but machines, they were redundant in just a few years. So, in eighty years, she was… old. So, so old.
<Eyes on the prize, Eleven. Sulking won’t help anyone out, not even old robots! If you want to keep up, you have to focus on the job. Otherwise, what’ll become of your precious efficiency, huuuh?>
Though her tone through her shell’s UI was like the chirping of a child, Maxine could not argue with her point. <You are correct. There are many blessings to how I was made. Sentients go for so long without a purpose… I was built with one. Age isn’t as important, when I can dedicate so much of it to a task.>
<Right! And on that note – I’ve just dug up that intel you were hoping for! It took some extrapolation that I usually wouldn’t have much faith in, but I cross-referenced it with some old declassified information on the Golden Gate’s bases prior to the coup. I think a 86% standard of error is good for work like this~>
<This will be a big step forward. Thank you, Two. I’m not very experienced nor well designed for much geographical information systems work, so I couldn’t have done it without you. If it’s there, then hopefully that will mean there’s some worthwhile data for us – and, perhaps some answers.>
It’d been a fair chunk of effort aside from her actual paid work, not to mention Maxine’s insistence on working around the Tea House to justify the hospitality, but she had finally gotten a proper lead on Doctor Unid’s previous work. The Golden Gate organisation had made some considerable purchases from Maxine and Two’s creator… judging by the internal documents Two had decrypted, they had quite a working relationship for some time. So, ideally, they might be able to find some old data on the later models of the Unid Numbers which could be usable by their shells. It was a bitter irony; older models hunting through old ruins for new data from newer models. But, it was progress.
<I warned Shortcake that I have been planning to take a few days off from the maid roster a few weeks ago. We’ll sortie as soon as I give her an update and time to process it.>
<Gotcha! Don’t let her bully you too much, okay?>
The usual brat…
---------------------------------
<So… no death robots? No traps? No horrid evil military prototypes, sealed away for the good of the world? No Saiyan warlords in cryostasis? No demons locked up in magical vessels? No forbidden curses? No superweapons that should never see the light of day? No apocalyptic computer viruses?>”
Carefully, Maxine put the finishing touches on eight hours of work. With just the right angle on the torch, she should manage to finish melting through the blast door’s lock in another twenty minutes or so – an arduous process, especially when you had a talkative AI babbling for the whole thing. Arduous work was to be expected from a machine, it didn’t bother her at all; but socialising was another story.
<Correct. I have investigated some other bunkers like this in my search for other documents regarding my successor models, as well as occasionally on work for the Duchies. I have yet to encounter any such hostilities. These are merely abandoned buildings… at worst, perhaps you could face some bandits or wannabe paramilitaries who have taken one of these places up as a base; but they tend to lack the equipment or patience.>
At the very least, Two was understanding and rational. However, saying that about an artificial intelligence felt like damning her by faint praise.
<Wow. You get the droll jobs, and you go after them as a hobby as well? No wonder you spend so much time playing video games. At least you get to actually shoot your guns in them.>
…she wasn’t going to even respond to that one. She’d crossed the line!
Speaking of which – a click and a tiny rush of air confirmed that she’d finished breaching; and in record time. Clearly this door wasn’t up to snuff. The last two were rather poor quality as well… that didn’t lift her spirits for finding anything worthwhile inside. These places were usually wiped clean by locals or authorities from long ago, though usually they didn’t bother with the sort of old data storage Maxine was hunting.
That said – sometimes the experience was its own reward. Little slices of history. This one had been quite spotless so far, and while it seems like the doors had taking a beating the rest of the complex was in good condition. If this had been raided, it’d been by professionals rather than punks. And it was clearly one of their final bases to begin with: polished walls, tiled floors, well-marked signage, no exposed wiring or damage… but, that might just mean they’d retreated safely and wiped the place before leaving.
This server room was a little different, but as expected – Maxine had only seen a ‘clean’ server room once or twice in her life, and definitely not under the supervision of the Golden Gate. Electronics were important, but not priceless; and certainly far less sensitive in more recent eras. So, seeing lines of server banks in the darkness, with a layer of wires and scrap around their edges and the floor... it wasn’t anything too new. The musty air was almost nostalgic. As she strode carefully deeper towards the interfacing terminal and shone her attached torch through the darkness, the android appreciated the scenery in a way few could perhaps comprehend. Yes, a sense of history…
…and, a sense of warmth, as the heat of another light fell upon her.
Their guns drawn, the two androids shone spotlights upon each other – a duel upon a stage that fitted old machines like them more than anything else. While Maxine was a machine made to appear human, her company was anything but. A war machine, for sure… it towered over Maxine by a good two or more feet. It was bipedal, but little else about it resembled a person. A circular hull, supported by a pair of thin reverse-joined legs, alongside a pair of similarly thin arms. Atop the main body was a small protrusion, like a lid, hanging over a pair of green lenses… a faint veneer of personification in the form of soulless eyes. More noticeable to Maxine, though, was that one of its arms ended in a three-fingered hand… while the other, an integrated laser cannon.
She was surely outmatched. Even if it was old, it was built to kill – she was built not to. Yet… she was not the only one hesitating.
”UN-11, IFF XXVI - 100961701. I am here in search of research and diagnostic data on the Golden Gate’s purchases and development of the Unid Number android series.” stated Maxine, sticking to protocol – the best approach for machines. Hopefully this was a recent enough model to recognise her Identification Friend or Foe frequency code… hopefully, her code was still on its list. She was tempted to continue, and insist she would leave the premises on her own accord, but if this was still here… then, surely, this collection hadn’t been touched, so it was even more precious to her…!
”…IFF code unknown. Designation – recognised. However… your shell nor specifications do not resemble my data on the UN-11 series. Though this is an inconsistency, this unit has determined hostilities to be unnecessary. Greetings.”
The machine’s voice had a monotone, tinny cadence; but with a hint of emotion. It was clear this wasn’t just built for war… Maxine would assume it was developed with some hint of personification in mind, so that it would be easier for people to work with. Maybe it was even a peacekeeping or security machine, rather than designed as solely a weapon? But… more importantly, it recognised her designation, yet not her design? Were there… other, UN-11 models…? It was possible… she’d considered it before. So, it shouldn’t bother her…
”As state, I merely intend to interface here and copy any relevant data to the Unid Number series. The Golden Gate has long since disbanded… so, I hope to put it to use for the future.” answered Maxine hesitantly, lowering her gun as the other android did the same. A tiny part of her felt… happy. A machine like this was familiar to her. It was – a little bit like her. ”What is your designation? I can see that you’re a very different model to me… I can only pretend to be a combat unit, while your shell certainly looks like it was made for it. I’m interested in when you were built, and by what designer.”
The other machine hesitated much like she had, no doubt taking its time to process and compare the information with its own databanks – Maxine knew that pause all too well. Her system was no doubt better suited for such activity, but the difference in time would probably only be half a second. It felt longer, though… and, she felt like she saw a spark of insecurity within those green lenses. ”This model… is a combat unit. Design date was… 1132, updated 1144; manufactured 1146. A multi-purpose security unit updated with the latest in coordination and earthling recognition technology, capable of receiving and recognising a variety of orders as well as altering responses to respond to emotion changes signalled verbally or non-verbally in allies and superiors. Integrated fourth generation slim-bore plasma cannon, and replaceable fire-and-forget disposable rocket pods.”
It was a sales pitch, sure – but Maxine still listened intently. A fairly practical line-up for a security model. Err, aside from the rockets. Must have been from a Capsule Corp branch…
”Designed and developed by… Unid AI Consultancy.”
”T-Truly? Unid AI Consultancy… so, he rebranded again… but, b-but – what model number? We might be –“
The machine hesitated again, more poignantly this time; before moving its unarmed arm to a shoulder plate. Maxine’s flashlight followed its gesture –
”Unid Number… Eleven.”
– and the stencilled numeral it illuminated.
”That is… UN-11… yet, I… but, a machine – cannot lie.”
”Correct. A machine cannot lie. Code cannot falsify itself.
However – it can be made to lie.”
It was a horrid silence. Maxine was assuredly locked in denial, panicking internally – there had to be a simple explanation. She was just an off-shoot, a repackaging; or this model was just another brand, or line, or – or – or something! She was UN-11! She had always been UN-11, from the day she was activated.
The other machine stood patiently, as if to give its cohort the time to consider her situation. Its lenses portrayed no emotion, but yet it offered sympathy. ”It is possible that your designation was rebranded before you were programmed and manufactured. You are – a civilian model, correct? Therefore, it may have been a marketing move.” suggested the android, before stepping towards the main terminal of the abandoned room; ”Let us interface instead of vocalising like this. It is likely you can come to a clearer answer with the information on the Unid Numbers stored here, and far more efficiently. That was your stated objective, regardless.”
It was correct – undeniably so. The objective was more important than anything. And, a designation was not that important, was it? She had a duty to fulfil, regardless. UN-11 or UN-01; Maxine or SN71831; it did not matter. It was just a label. So, she strode forward, regaining her composure…
Yet. Just a difference in number did not bother her, truly. Instead, what bothered her, was… the concept that she had been lied to. She had been activated after she could no longer perform her original purpose, after all. If she could not trust her origins and herself, then… could she trust who Maxine was at all?
She obediently plugged into the mainframe; deigning wireless to be too slow. She wanted to know it all, now. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to be fully consumed by her system, and reach out – her focus was needed in her files, not in the world outside. <You have full access to my files, UN-11. Update yourself as you like.> Perhaps the offer of full transparency would seem strange to a living thing, but as a machine it was just a matter of course. Especially towards a fellow Unid Number, and one who was giving assistance so readily. She had nothing to hide.
<This is UN-02 – UN-11… well, Maxine’s, surrogate AI. I was the Doctor’s operating system host AI. I’ll handle copying all the relevant data on our end.>
<Affirmative. My parser is not as well-adapted for data management as yours, so this unit will focus on answering your primary AI’s queries while updating this shell’s context data.>
<Understood. I don’t mind investigating on my own if you would rather conserve your memory, but I would appreciate the assistance otherwise. I was designed as an earthling-emulation model, so I find it easier to process information narratively like this thanks to my emotion suite.>
<A novel design. Likely, an iteration of the previous civilian consumer models designed by Doctor Unid – UN-03, 04, and 06. Judging by your diagnostics, your design was created long afterwards, which would give some more meaning to your designation. However, this shell was still a more recent model than your own by several decades.>
Well, that was at least a good start. Though she lacked such specifics, that mean what she’d heard about the Doctor’s previous work had been correct… though, had he focussed on military models for all that time before her? <I would theorise that my designation was updated to impress the client… the Duchess Rhyme. Or, perhaps there was a line of custom consumer models such as myself, in which I was the eleventh; when in truth that would be my serial rather than my model number.>
<These are likely theories. However, your base code has the most relation to the Unid Number 10 model’s programming. There is only a skeleton of that data here; a beta copy from a long time ago; so it is possibly just a case of iteration on the Doctor’s main data bank – but it would be inefficient to use that rather than basing it on the previous civilian models. UN-10 was instead developed as a platform for paramilitary designs. From limited shareholder report information on it available here, it was used for a number of aerial surveillance drone types. They emulated sentient thought in order to respond accordingly for the most efficient tracking routing. My model’s recognition system was based on this concept.>
A fascinating thought, if slightly dreadful as well… her code was based on that of a surveillance drone? But, that did not add up – she was clearly far more complex than that, and that still did not explain the model number discrepancy. <That is a start, if nothing more… thank you for your processing, and your explanations. But, I shouldn’t waste more of your time with this.>
<This shell is simply following its code; graciousness is unnecessary. You, too, are only doing as ordered. However, UN-11, there is one more discrepancy of note. If your response is inadequate, the data transplanting process will be cancelled immediately – it is a serious security concern. You are currently withholding data via an encryption – explain.>
Encrypted data, on her? Or, was it in Two, instead? Either way, Maxine struggled to respond – she genuinely had no idea. <Encrypted data…? Can you mark it?>”
<The encrypted data is Maxine’s emotional suite, and the diagnostics used to initially program it through adaptive learning. It’s necessary to keep it encrypted so it doesn’t interrupt her own personality runtime, as many of the files overlap; but it’s necessary to keep it on-board as it’s used to reboot.>
<What…? That is… news to me…!>
A deep cut. Two had never mentioned this before, and Maxine had never detected it herself. What was this about?
<It was designed so it wouldn’t show up on your own scans, Maxine; as it has no use to you. To an external system, though, it shows up… at least, with the right software. A Unid Number has no problem; but I wouldn’t be surprised if it slipped past a living operator or an OS AI.>
<…This is an acceptable response. It is hidden using a very archaic form of filing, so it would be difficult to be discovered by almost any model in the last century… however, it is also near transparent. It is clear it has more than diagnostic data, even with a basic archiving program scan. Results suggest its contents have more in common with the Unid Number’s designation and commenting files intended for living operators to read.>
<That’s incorrect.>
Though their dialogue was done across milliseconds thanks to the direct interface, there was another dire pause. This was perhaps the most troubling so far… yet, Maxine was too buried in her own anguish to interject. Two’s explanation… could not possibly be genuine.
<The file transfer is complete. Maxine, take us out of here. I’m disconnecting from the mainframe.>
And with that, it was over. Maxine was once again staring into those green lenses… now, she could only feel as though they saw her with pity.
”UN-11… I’ll put the Golden Gate’s data to good use…” was all she could offer at first; trying to get a grip on herself again – hidden files, false names, lying to herself; what was this all about? A conspiracy buried in her own heart… ”Do you know – if there’s any other surviving Unid Numbers? If there’s anything else? If there’s another trace –!”
”You have all the data this shell can possibly offer. This is just a single model… it cannot account for the rest of its line, nor Doctor Unid’s future creations. Or, his past creations. Like your own design, this is just a manufactured machine… I can offer no history beyond my own creation. The Golden Gate’s information only covers their working relationship – and that ended shortly after this shell was activated.”
The same answer as always. A dead end. So, the only one who could have answers was… Two.
<Maxine… whatever happens, don’t try and access those files.
I know that’s more frustrating than anything else, but… they aren’t for you.
They’re merely old diagnostics – I’ll extract some of them for you later, to show you.
I can’t control you, but I promise you…
The only thing you’ll find in that file is despair.>
Maxine wanted to respond with fury, frustration; or even just angst – but hearing that reply from Two without even a question was truly sobering. There was no bounce to her tone, no joke or jab. She could only look down and feel the dread pile up on her back… s-surely, they didn’t matter; surely, her number and name was irrelevant; surely, she was still Maxine no matter what. And yet, she could not help but be more scared than she had ever been before. Just knowing they were there now… and, that Two had been hiding them from her…
…she had to focus on the task at hand. Like always.
”I… should take my leave, then. I’ll report this location to the Duchies. It may be of use to them, and you may be of use to them, too; UN-11. Then you’ll have orders once more, at last…”
Slowly, Maxine walked back across the floor littered with wires and scrap; as the green lenses bore into her. This old building should have been full of secrets, but instead; she was the one who had so much left to reveal. Perhaps it was to be expected… after all, she was older still.
”This shell already has orders. There is no preference for a machine – difficulty, context, feasibility, sympathy, or results; they are all irrelevant to you and I. All that matters is the current mission. Regardless of our age, we have our directives – continue your operation… UN-11.”
”That is… correct. I am –
– just a machine.”
Her mission…
To serve the Duchess Rhyme… who passed away before she was activated; murdered.
Was her mission vengeance? To continue to serve her family? Or, to preserve her memory?
When she had first been activated, she had pitied demons for being born without a directive.
But, when she voiced it, they had laughed. To them, that was the joy of life.
Instead, it was she who was pitied.
For she had been born with a directive she could no longer follow.
---------------------------------
[op@uneleven twobin]# pw
/core/local/personal/temp/twobin
[op@uneleven twobin]# ls -a
.emotada un2_readme
un2_diag un2_diag
letrangedes
mbusdes
sparklinedes
[op@uneleven twobin]# cd /core/local/personal.temp/twobin/.emotada
[op@uneleven .emotada]# ls -a
emotdiag6_1_15
emotdiag21_9_19
emotdiag14_2_20
[op@uneleven .emotada]# ./emotdiag21_9_19.sh
Identified as audio/video file
Launching unid_avf
Opening file emotdiag21_9_19.vlo
Running
“-ry, sorry; I didn’t meant to talk during the boot-up. Ah, and he’s right… I never noticed. Her eyes are a bit brighter while she’s active. How pretty! So, Maxine… what should we talk about today? Is there anything you’d like to know about?”
”I… do not know. The doctor said…”
“There’s no need to worry about that! I’m your boss, remember. We can do whatever I want~”
”That is correct. But… there is nothing especially important to me right now…”
“Well, let’s talk about something happy this time around. What do you think of weather, Maxine? What’s your favourite kind?”
”Weather… sunshine is the most useful to earthlings, but… I enjoy the ambience of rain and thunderstorms. The sounds are pleasant…”
“Ah, and there’s that little smile! See, the Doctor will be so proud of you. I agree… the rain is lovely. We get a lot here in the West, so that’s good to hear, really!”
”I-I see… thank you, Duchess. I’m truly looking forward to my service.”
[4,574]
<It’s not good enough for the field yet. The wireless is unencrypted, and it’s as you say – the activation is too costly. I’d be handicapped while starting it up before combat, particularly if my enemies had the jump on me. That’s too great a cost.>
<Uuugh, you’re such a pain! It’s never going to be perfect! You’re not a war machine, remember? And, it has so many other uses! It’s not just a defence device!>
<Streamline the activation – until then, I can’t use it. I would like to give you more options to assist, Two, but this won’t help me right now. My work has to be efficient if I want to keep up with modern androids, or even fellow freelancers.>
<Right, right, fiiiiiine. Don’t hold out on me though, okay?! I’ve done a lot for you! Don’t forget it!>
Maxine could understand Two’s frustration, as bizarre as it was to propose that an AI could feel such a thing – but, it seemed Doctor Unid had a vested interest in artificial emotion simulation that had affected even his operating system AI. Despite being the AI that had been given the most development time and iterations compared to the rest of the Unid Numbers, Two had only had a physical shell on a rare few occasions; and even then, it’d only been for experimental purposes. It was little surprise she felt so compelled to have a shell of her own, after being stuck looking through Maxine’s sensors in the meantime.
Or, more to the point, she probably felt constrained by the powers that Maxine could afford her. She wasn’t sure if it could be considered more or less restrained compared to her OS being left unused on a console for a long time, but at the moment she could do little but browse Maxine’s internal documents and offer added parallel processing power. It was probably a step down from having a laboratory’s worth of hardware to work with.
But – even with that in mind, it was a question that Maxine found on her mind a lot.
It seemed to be in the nature of sentient beings to treat others like themselves; to personify them. However, she had to wonder; did many of them consider whether or not that was fair? Even Maxine herself, as a machine, found it confronting. Even alienating. And yet, she was also doing the same to Two at the moment; and had done the same for many other androids. She was somewhere in-between. A machine built to pretend to be an earthling… but, not to be truly human, either.
Too old to be a machine of any worth, and too young to be a sentient of any worth…
The android slumped in her chair. Her room was a freakshow here in the Zen Tea House – where the building was a beautiful example of the Western Lands’ architecture, her room had gradually been infected with the conveniences of the Central Lands that had characterised what little personality her original apartment had. Certainly, she could appreciate elegance, and as she had grown up with the Duchies she had a deep respect for their heritage and culture… but, when it came to her own dealings, she had to be practical. And so, like the android that lived among demons, metal and plastic had slunk in amongst the wood and paper.
A full desk and office chair were the most outstanding additions; much to the displeasure of Shortcake – Maxine might be in the servants’ quarters, but she ought to stick to their traditions! The stack of mainframes were less expansive, but their black casings and flickering LEDs were no less out of place. Thankfully, she had no need for a monitor, but many of her clients still insisting on pen and paper for official documents, so she had to account for that… and, that wardrobe behind sliding doors was full of suits and firearms, rather than kimonos and sandals. O-Of course, Maxine did have her own traditional uniform for particularly special meetings, but it wasn’t the image she liked to project. She was an outsider, a professional for work such venerable organisations would not wish to dirty their hands with.
And yet, here that professional was, dawdling in the property of one of the venerable families. She was not sure what to make of the Tea Family so far. They had brought her on board so quickly… she could not help but feel some suspicions. There was a tradition that yakuza should show hospitality for their guests, especially if they come from another family; but she had the feeling this was building up to something. Juniper… too gentle to be a killer, or silk covering steel? And Koma… a classic firebrand, but she couldn’t be certain he had the wisdom to back up his newfound position. And all their strange comrades… perhaps strangest of all, this useless machine they called ‘Maxine’.
She could not help but give a sigh. They were all so young. Saiyans aged so slowly, their prime lasting on and on; demons, too – but machines, they were redundant in just a few years. So, in eighty years, she was… old. So, so old.
<Eyes on the prize, Eleven. Sulking won’t help anyone out, not even old robots! If you want to keep up, you have to focus on the job. Otherwise, what’ll become of your precious efficiency, huuuh?>
Though her tone through her shell’s UI was like the chirping of a child, Maxine could not argue with her point. <You are correct. There are many blessings to how I was made. Sentients go for so long without a purpose… I was built with one. Age isn’t as important, when I can dedicate so much of it to a task.>
<Right! And on that note – I’ve just dug up that intel you were hoping for! It took some extrapolation that I usually wouldn’t have much faith in, but I cross-referenced it with some old declassified information on the Golden Gate’s bases prior to the coup. I think a 86% standard of error is good for work like this~>
<This will be a big step forward. Thank you, Two. I’m not very experienced nor well designed for much geographical information systems work, so I couldn’t have done it without you. If it’s there, then hopefully that will mean there’s some worthwhile data for us – and, perhaps some answers.>
It’d been a fair chunk of effort aside from her actual paid work, not to mention Maxine’s insistence on working around the Tea House to justify the hospitality, but she had finally gotten a proper lead on Doctor Unid’s previous work. The Golden Gate organisation had made some considerable purchases from Maxine and Two’s creator… judging by the internal documents Two had decrypted, they had quite a working relationship for some time. So, ideally, they might be able to find some old data on the later models of the Unid Numbers which could be usable by their shells. It was a bitter irony; older models hunting through old ruins for new data from newer models. But, it was progress.
<I warned Shortcake that I have been planning to take a few days off from the maid roster a few weeks ago. We’ll sortie as soon as I give her an update and time to process it.>
<Gotcha! Don’t let her bully you too much, okay?>
The usual brat…
---------------------------------
<So… no death robots? No traps? No horrid evil military prototypes, sealed away for the good of the world? No Saiyan warlords in cryostasis? No demons locked up in magical vessels? No forbidden curses? No superweapons that should never see the light of day? No apocalyptic computer viruses?>”
Carefully, Maxine put the finishing touches on eight hours of work. With just the right angle on the torch, she should manage to finish melting through the blast door’s lock in another twenty minutes or so – an arduous process, especially when you had a talkative AI babbling for the whole thing. Arduous work was to be expected from a machine, it didn’t bother her at all; but socialising was another story.
<Correct. I have investigated some other bunkers like this in my search for other documents regarding my successor models, as well as occasionally on work for the Duchies. I have yet to encounter any such hostilities. These are merely abandoned buildings… at worst, perhaps you could face some bandits or wannabe paramilitaries who have taken one of these places up as a base; but they tend to lack the equipment or patience.>
At the very least, Two was understanding and rational. However, saying that about an artificial intelligence felt like damning her by faint praise.
<Wow. You get the droll jobs, and you go after them as a hobby as well? No wonder you spend so much time playing video games. At least you get to actually shoot your guns in them.>
…she wasn’t going to even respond to that one. She’d crossed the line!
Speaking of which – a click and a tiny rush of air confirmed that she’d finished breaching; and in record time. Clearly this door wasn’t up to snuff. The last two were rather poor quality as well… that didn’t lift her spirits for finding anything worthwhile inside. These places were usually wiped clean by locals or authorities from long ago, though usually they didn’t bother with the sort of old data storage Maxine was hunting.
That said – sometimes the experience was its own reward. Little slices of history. This one had been quite spotless so far, and while it seems like the doors had taking a beating the rest of the complex was in good condition. If this had been raided, it’d been by professionals rather than punks. And it was clearly one of their final bases to begin with: polished walls, tiled floors, well-marked signage, no exposed wiring or damage… but, that might just mean they’d retreated safely and wiped the place before leaving.
This server room was a little different, but as expected – Maxine had only seen a ‘clean’ server room once or twice in her life, and definitely not under the supervision of the Golden Gate. Electronics were important, but not priceless; and certainly far less sensitive in more recent eras. So, seeing lines of server banks in the darkness, with a layer of wires and scrap around their edges and the floor... it wasn’t anything too new. The musty air was almost nostalgic. As she strode carefully deeper towards the interfacing terminal and shone her attached torch through the darkness, the android appreciated the scenery in a way few could perhaps comprehend. Yes, a sense of history…
…and, a sense of warmth, as the heat of another light fell upon her.
Their guns drawn, the two androids shone spotlights upon each other – a duel upon a stage that fitted old machines like them more than anything else. While Maxine was a machine made to appear human, her company was anything but. A war machine, for sure… it towered over Maxine by a good two or more feet. It was bipedal, but little else about it resembled a person. A circular hull, supported by a pair of thin reverse-joined legs, alongside a pair of similarly thin arms. Atop the main body was a small protrusion, like a lid, hanging over a pair of green lenses… a faint veneer of personification in the form of soulless eyes. More noticeable to Maxine, though, was that one of its arms ended in a three-fingered hand… while the other, an integrated laser cannon.
She was surely outmatched. Even if it was old, it was built to kill – she was built not to. Yet… she was not the only one hesitating.
”UN-11, IFF XXVI - 100961701. I am here in search of research and diagnostic data on the Golden Gate’s purchases and development of the Unid Number android series.” stated Maxine, sticking to protocol – the best approach for machines. Hopefully this was a recent enough model to recognise her Identification Friend or Foe frequency code… hopefully, her code was still on its list. She was tempted to continue, and insist she would leave the premises on her own accord, but if this was still here… then, surely, this collection hadn’t been touched, so it was even more precious to her…!
”…IFF code unknown. Designation – recognised. However… your shell nor specifications do not resemble my data on the UN-11 series. Though this is an inconsistency, this unit has determined hostilities to be unnecessary. Greetings.”
The machine’s voice had a monotone, tinny cadence; but with a hint of emotion. It was clear this wasn’t just built for war… Maxine would assume it was developed with some hint of personification in mind, so that it would be easier for people to work with. Maybe it was even a peacekeeping or security machine, rather than designed as solely a weapon? But… more importantly, it recognised her designation, yet not her design? Were there… other, UN-11 models…? It was possible… she’d considered it before. So, it shouldn’t bother her…
”As state, I merely intend to interface here and copy any relevant data to the Unid Number series. The Golden Gate has long since disbanded… so, I hope to put it to use for the future.” answered Maxine hesitantly, lowering her gun as the other android did the same. A tiny part of her felt… happy. A machine like this was familiar to her. It was – a little bit like her. ”What is your designation? I can see that you’re a very different model to me… I can only pretend to be a combat unit, while your shell certainly looks like it was made for it. I’m interested in when you were built, and by what designer.”
The other machine hesitated much like she had, no doubt taking its time to process and compare the information with its own databanks – Maxine knew that pause all too well. Her system was no doubt better suited for such activity, but the difference in time would probably only be half a second. It felt longer, though… and, she felt like she saw a spark of insecurity within those green lenses. ”This model… is a combat unit. Design date was… 1132, updated 1144; manufactured 1146. A multi-purpose security unit updated with the latest in coordination and earthling recognition technology, capable of receiving and recognising a variety of orders as well as altering responses to respond to emotion changes signalled verbally or non-verbally in allies and superiors. Integrated fourth generation slim-bore plasma cannon, and replaceable fire-and-forget disposable rocket pods.”
It was a sales pitch, sure – but Maxine still listened intently. A fairly practical line-up for a security model. Err, aside from the rockets. Must have been from a Capsule Corp branch…
”Designed and developed by… Unid AI Consultancy.”
”T-Truly? Unid AI Consultancy… so, he rebranded again… but, b-but – what model number? We might be –“
The machine hesitated again, more poignantly this time; before moving its unarmed arm to a shoulder plate. Maxine’s flashlight followed its gesture –
”Unid Number… Eleven.”
– and the stencilled numeral it illuminated.
”That is… UN-11… yet, I… but, a machine – cannot lie.”
”Correct. A machine cannot lie. Code cannot falsify itself.
However – it can be made to lie.”
It was a horrid silence. Maxine was assuredly locked in denial, panicking internally – there had to be a simple explanation. She was just an off-shoot, a repackaging; or this model was just another brand, or line, or – or – or something! She was UN-11! She had always been UN-11, from the day she was activated.
The other machine stood patiently, as if to give its cohort the time to consider her situation. Its lenses portrayed no emotion, but yet it offered sympathy. ”It is possible that your designation was rebranded before you were programmed and manufactured. You are – a civilian model, correct? Therefore, it may have been a marketing move.” suggested the android, before stepping towards the main terminal of the abandoned room; ”Let us interface instead of vocalising like this. It is likely you can come to a clearer answer with the information on the Unid Numbers stored here, and far more efficiently. That was your stated objective, regardless.”
It was correct – undeniably so. The objective was more important than anything. And, a designation was not that important, was it? She had a duty to fulfil, regardless. UN-11 or UN-01; Maxine or SN71831; it did not matter. It was just a label. So, she strode forward, regaining her composure…
Yet. Just a difference in number did not bother her, truly. Instead, what bothered her, was… the concept that she had been lied to. She had been activated after she could no longer perform her original purpose, after all. If she could not trust her origins and herself, then… could she trust who Maxine was at all?
She obediently plugged into the mainframe; deigning wireless to be too slow. She wanted to know it all, now. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to be fully consumed by her system, and reach out – her focus was needed in her files, not in the world outside. <You have full access to my files, UN-11. Update yourself as you like.> Perhaps the offer of full transparency would seem strange to a living thing, but as a machine it was just a matter of course. Especially towards a fellow Unid Number, and one who was giving assistance so readily. She had nothing to hide.
<This is UN-02 – UN-11… well, Maxine’s, surrogate AI. I was the Doctor’s operating system host AI. I’ll handle copying all the relevant data on our end.>
<Affirmative. My parser is not as well-adapted for data management as yours, so this unit will focus on answering your primary AI’s queries while updating this shell’s context data.>
<Understood. I don’t mind investigating on my own if you would rather conserve your memory, but I would appreciate the assistance otherwise. I was designed as an earthling-emulation model, so I find it easier to process information narratively like this thanks to my emotion suite.>
<A novel design. Likely, an iteration of the previous civilian consumer models designed by Doctor Unid – UN-03, 04, and 06. Judging by your diagnostics, your design was created long afterwards, which would give some more meaning to your designation. However, this shell was still a more recent model than your own by several decades.>
Well, that was at least a good start. Though she lacked such specifics, that mean what she’d heard about the Doctor’s previous work had been correct… though, had he focussed on military models for all that time before her? <I would theorise that my designation was updated to impress the client… the Duchess Rhyme. Or, perhaps there was a line of custom consumer models such as myself, in which I was the eleventh; when in truth that would be my serial rather than my model number.>
<These are likely theories. However, your base code has the most relation to the Unid Number 10 model’s programming. There is only a skeleton of that data here; a beta copy from a long time ago; so it is possibly just a case of iteration on the Doctor’s main data bank – but it would be inefficient to use that rather than basing it on the previous civilian models. UN-10 was instead developed as a platform for paramilitary designs. From limited shareholder report information on it available here, it was used for a number of aerial surveillance drone types. They emulated sentient thought in order to respond accordingly for the most efficient tracking routing. My model’s recognition system was based on this concept.>
A fascinating thought, if slightly dreadful as well… her code was based on that of a surveillance drone? But, that did not add up – she was clearly far more complex than that, and that still did not explain the model number discrepancy. <That is a start, if nothing more… thank you for your processing, and your explanations. But, I shouldn’t waste more of your time with this.>
<This shell is simply following its code; graciousness is unnecessary. You, too, are only doing as ordered. However, UN-11, there is one more discrepancy of note. If your response is inadequate, the data transplanting process will be cancelled immediately – it is a serious security concern. You are currently withholding data via an encryption – explain.>
Encrypted data, on her? Or, was it in Two, instead? Either way, Maxine struggled to respond – she genuinely had no idea. <Encrypted data…? Can you mark it?>”
<The encrypted data is Maxine’s emotional suite, and the diagnostics used to initially program it through adaptive learning. It’s necessary to keep it encrypted so it doesn’t interrupt her own personality runtime, as many of the files overlap; but it’s necessary to keep it on-board as it’s used to reboot.>
<What…? That is… news to me…!>
A deep cut. Two had never mentioned this before, and Maxine had never detected it herself. What was this about?
<It was designed so it wouldn’t show up on your own scans, Maxine; as it has no use to you. To an external system, though, it shows up… at least, with the right software. A Unid Number has no problem; but I wouldn’t be surprised if it slipped past a living operator or an OS AI.>
<…This is an acceptable response. It is hidden using a very archaic form of filing, so it would be difficult to be discovered by almost any model in the last century… however, it is also near transparent. It is clear it has more than diagnostic data, even with a basic archiving program scan. Results suggest its contents have more in common with the Unid Number’s designation and commenting files intended for living operators to read.>
<That’s incorrect.>
Though their dialogue was done across milliseconds thanks to the direct interface, there was another dire pause. This was perhaps the most troubling so far… yet, Maxine was too buried in her own anguish to interject. Two’s explanation… could not possibly be genuine.
<The file transfer is complete. Maxine, take us out of here. I’m disconnecting from the mainframe.>
And with that, it was over. Maxine was once again staring into those green lenses… now, she could only feel as though they saw her with pity.
”UN-11… I’ll put the Golden Gate’s data to good use…” was all she could offer at first; trying to get a grip on herself again – hidden files, false names, lying to herself; what was this all about? A conspiracy buried in her own heart… ”Do you know – if there’s any other surviving Unid Numbers? If there’s anything else? If there’s another trace –!”
”You have all the data this shell can possibly offer. This is just a single model… it cannot account for the rest of its line, nor Doctor Unid’s future creations. Or, his past creations. Like your own design, this is just a manufactured machine… I can offer no history beyond my own creation. The Golden Gate’s information only covers their working relationship – and that ended shortly after this shell was activated.”
The same answer as always. A dead end. So, the only one who could have answers was… Two.
<Maxine… whatever happens, don’t try and access those files.
I know that’s more frustrating than anything else, but… they aren’t for you.
They’re merely old diagnostics – I’ll extract some of them for you later, to show you.
I can’t control you, but I promise you…
The only thing you’ll find in that file is despair.>
Maxine wanted to respond with fury, frustration; or even just angst – but hearing that reply from Two without even a question was truly sobering. There was no bounce to her tone, no joke or jab. She could only look down and feel the dread pile up on her back… s-surely, they didn’t matter; surely, her number and name was irrelevant; surely, she was still Maxine no matter what. And yet, she could not help but be more scared than she had ever been before. Just knowing they were there now… and, that Two had been hiding them from her…
…she had to focus on the task at hand. Like always.
”I… should take my leave, then. I’ll report this location to the Duchies. It may be of use to them, and you may be of use to them, too; UN-11. Then you’ll have orders once more, at last…”
Slowly, Maxine walked back across the floor littered with wires and scrap; as the green lenses bore into her. This old building should have been full of secrets, but instead; she was the one who had so much left to reveal. Perhaps it was to be expected… after all, she was older still.
”This shell already has orders. There is no preference for a machine – difficulty, context, feasibility, sympathy, or results; they are all irrelevant to you and I. All that matters is the current mission. Regardless of our age, we have our directives – continue your operation… UN-11.”
”That is… correct. I am –
– just a machine.”
Her mission…
To serve the Duchess Rhyme… who passed away before she was activated; murdered.
Was her mission vengeance? To continue to serve her family? Or, to preserve her memory?
When she had first been activated, she had pitied demons for being born without a directive.
But, when she voiced it, they had laughed. To them, that was the joy of life.
Instead, it was she who was pitied.
For she had been born with a directive she could no longer follow.
---------------------------------
[op@uneleven twobin]# pw
/core/local/personal/temp/twobin
[op@uneleven twobin]# ls -a
.emotada un2_readme
un2_diag un2_diag
letrangedes
mbusdes
sparklinedes
[op@uneleven twobin]# cd /core/local/personal.temp/twobin/.emotada
[op@uneleven .emotada]# ls -a
emotdiag6_1_15
emotdiag21_9_19
emotdiag14_2_20
[op@uneleven .emotada]# ./emotdiag21_9_19.sh
Identified as audio/video file
Launching unid_avf
Opening file emotdiag21_9_19.vlo
Running
“-ry, sorry; I didn’t meant to talk during the boot-up. Ah, and he’s right… I never noticed. Her eyes are a bit brighter while she’s active. How pretty! So, Maxine… what should we talk about today? Is there anything you’d like to know about?”
”I… do not know. The doctor said…”
“There’s no need to worry about that! I’m your boss, remember. We can do whatever I want~”
”That is correct. But… there is nothing especially important to me right now…”
“Well, let’s talk about something happy this time around. What do you think of weather, Maxine? What’s your favourite kind?”
”Weather… sunshine is the most useful to earthlings, but… I enjoy the ambience of rain and thunderstorms. The sounds are pleasant…”
“Ah, and there’s that little smile! See, the Doctor will be so proud of you. I agree… the rain is lovely. We get a lot here in the West, so that’s good to hear, really!”
”I-I see… thank you, Duchess. I’m truly looking forward to my service.”
[4,574]