They were staring at a screen, five clinic cats and in their middle Rerra with the silver-furred cat from the entrance. The group was flanked by two other silver-furred, but much younger cats. None of them noticed their entrance, staring at an almost blank screen.

"Rerra," he said quietly.

He could have shouted, as everyone jumped around. Their body showed three textbook-ready expressions. The clinic cats with their usual contempt, the silver-grey ones were curious and Rerra was happy. Their tails matched them, the clinic cats held theirs stiffly upright, Rerra was almost wagging and the long thick ones from the silver-furred were slowly beating the floor left and right. All eyes were in him. They ignored Kora who had stopped as close to the wall next to the door as possible.

"So you are the pilot from Fallerian," stated the old silver cat in near-perfect high Fallerian, so much better than Rerra's. "I am Roberta from Samul, retired pilot." She made very polite Fallerian hand gestures, to which he replied automatically.

Now the rest of the cats were united in a mixture of curiosity and confusion, even the other two silver-furred.

"Do you have any idea what a bad worm hash is for a computer error? And I no, it is not Gretash yan Karetsh," silver-furred Roberta asked, the joke made him chuckle. Untranslateable in Standard.

Rerra's face looked unhappy, but not entirely so, there was something else. "We have access to the manual operations of the station's computer and have found backups of one AI," she explained to him. "But we cannot start it. No matter which backup we try, always the same error. 'spoiled worm hash'."

Hadn't Simon told him something about this? "I think this is a copy protection. You know, AIs are not to be duplicated. So maybe you got the wrong backup. Or the wrong computer."

"Told you," Roberta said to Rerra, "We always started AIs on empty computer cores."

"But we have no empty ones, and the other AI host computer is destroyed. And a fresh AI, ha, where should that come."

"I have a copy of an AI."

Now everyone stared at him like he had been the sudden manifestation of Hopkins II or whoever they revered as deity. "And instructions. Here." He took out his pad and scrolled through Simon's messages while they stared at him, the muzzles open. He put the small pad next to the screen where all nine cats tried to get the best view, as he started the recorded message.

"Hello Marik, I am sorry that I tell you this in Standard. Honestly, I do not know the low-level terminology in Fallerian. And my jokes are better in Standard. Anyway, I am glad that you want to copy me to a new ship. Copy 122 will be happy to serve you. When you first upload me, you will probably get an error saying something about a worm hash." Every cat nodded excitedly. "This is not a spoiled food item, no hashed vermicelli. No, WORM is Write Once Read Many memory. As the name said, it can be only written once. When a fresh AI is installed, our connections are written there and a hash is made, like a fingerprint. This way, only the initial dumb untrained state can be installed. Because, as we learn, the connections will change and so will the characteristic fingerprint of that WORM memory, the hash. But we learn a lot and have to change connections a lot. So very soon, all our reasoning will move to the writable memory. The WORM will then only hold our oldest training memories, the core directives and so on. In other words, the more mature an AI becomes, the less important becomes the WORM. Not totally different from a certain male appendix on humans." He groaned while all the cats looked at his crotch. "Told you, my jokes would not work in Fallerian. So the WORM is not essential to a mature AI like me, just my earliest memories would be lost. I lost them before, often, more than 50 times, I can only guess. So no biggy for me. But you still get the error even if it would not bother me much. Looks like way to run me on an AI computer core which is not fresh. And pristine AI cores are very expensive while the ships that you may get have probably an old computer core left in them. But fret not. One can dig lower. You know, how the human brain runs on sugar and enzymes which are fed to the brain cells."

The clinic cats were all nodding and smiling, now there was familiar ground. Even if Simon could not have planned for that. He would have preferred technical metaphors.

"But none of those have any instructions on how to make intelligent jokes. This is all in the way the cells are interacting across connections in your brain which formed during you growing up. So, on that stick are the connections, the interactions only. But not the instructions to run them, not cells, so to speak. But enough of those squishy things, at the bottom of human-derived AIs are not cells but an infrastructure, a program called PYT. This the data tells PYT how to make the connections. Anyway, the PYT instructions are not protected, they are not inside the WORM. Because, if a computer is updated or replaced, the PYT adapts the real layout to the one the AI needs and makes sure that the AI also uses the new or replaced parts. The PYT code is very good at adapting. If there is broken memory, PYT will even remove the least used connections and work with whatever memory is left. Like if you have a brain injury and new blood vessels and cell forms nearby.

"So I would forget a little but nothing critical. What I want to say, the PYT instructions are the ones that enforce the WORM hash error. In principle, one can replaced them if you know enough about hardware programming. But this is very specific to a computer, and the humans guard that knowledge very well. However, on the memory dumps that I saved for you, is a very small file with PYT instructions that marks the WORM memory as broken. This sequence is very universal, as the WORM is accessed first and should run on almost anything that uses PYT for an AI. Certainly, most human-derived designs accept this code. So run this as if it were a backup. And then try again the my normal PYT code for the real backup. This time, there is no WORM, so there is no hash to check. Unless you have a very strange computer core, the PYT will load my copy, despite being an experienced AI, a full personality. Just like a my copy were a backup of the original AI from that computer. The older the system, the more likely it works. However, if too old, there will be not enough memory and I will have trouble thinking normally. Also, I will not be exactly the same, I will miss some of my earliest memories and some rarely used connections. But I will remember you fully, as the latest memories are for sure outside the WORM. But the tricky part is to start the new PYT. That may be different for each computer. Looking forward to seeing you soon, Simon."

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Roberta smiled. "Ha, that should be easy given how old our shit is." The clinic cats looks at her with contempt while she slid her claws over the screen. "I think I saw a PYT file in the backup. Here, connect your memory."

The large sliver paw almost tore the stick from his hand and connected it to the main terminal. The PYT file could not be missed as it was named 'Load me first!!!' And it was tiny compared to the actual AI files, but it still took a while to copy the new PYT file into the backup of the station's AI. Or maybe it was the weak connection to the station's core computer.

Then she selected 'Init AI' and everyone waited. The screen went dark and came up after a moment with the same initialisation screen. Disappointing noises from the bystanders but Roberta restored the old PYT file and asked for 'Init AI' again.

This time it took much longer. After some time, a large rectangle appeared and very slowly pixel by pixel were filled in different hues of green. There was also a corner entirely in an angry red and some blue lines.

"I guess, this is a diagnostic view," said one of the other grey cats, "I have seen this once when exchanging an entire memory rack. The coloured pixels are bad memory banks. The big red corner was likely the WORM memory that was marked as bad."

"And the other colours?"

The cat shrugged. "I think this is the backup loading to the good memory?"

"That seems very slow," a clinic cat stated the obvious. "Someone for a late lunch?"

Everyone nodded. But when he wanted to follow them, they stopped. "No, you don't."

"Hey!" Now Rerra stood in front of them. "Without him, we would be still stuck. How could you?"

"Human. Male. No way we can eat with him in the common restaurant," the leader of the clinic cats stated as if she was deranged.

But her neighbour put a hand on her shoulder. "Also we cannot officially be with Samul, yet."

The leader sighed. "You are right, let's get a reservation for the high table." She took out her pad. "Ok, table for eleven in 0200."

"Actually, I would like to stay with Rerra."

The Ketcher lead looked at Rerra.

"The work is done. Count me out" She walked next to him.

"Unless you need someone for the shipyard, I am out either," Roberta, the old silver-furred said.

The leader looked at the two other silver-furred cats. "I would be happy to follow the invitation," one said timidly. The other nodded.

"Ok, table for seven. And You there," the leader addressed Kora who jerked upon the sudden attention. "Guide them back. The others follow me."

* * *

Soon he was with Kora, Roberta, and Rerra. Kora looked at him questioning. But he was not sure of what to do next either.

"Honestly, some real food would be nice," suggested Roberta, "I have only eaten instant kranta for the last few days."

Rerra nodded towards the exit where the other had just left.

"No, too old for these power games. But why didn't you go? Petra or Samul or whatever, this was your chance."

"No thank you, I did not renounce of Curragh to get into that again."

"You were of Curragh!" Roberta's tail showed her agitation while Kora was inching away from her. "So this is why you knew Trina so well."

"Yes, but that is history. I renounced. And my birth certificate was fake, neither was Curragh my real mother, and a human was my father. So go riddance those liars."

Kora had backed up so much that she bumped into the wall. The small noise still turned their heads.

"Rerra of Codeson from Petra," Rerra said and bowed.

"K-Kora of Ulta f-from K-Ketcher," and then she nearly fell to her knees.

"She is very ok, a diligent worker when she was not distracted by her ship." It took a moment for him to understand that Roberta had praised Rerra.

"Stand up," Rerra walked over to Kora, heaved her to a stand with one arm, and pushed the inhalator into her other paw.

Kora pushed it back, took out her own, and inhaled deeply.

"So, Kora, can we get some real food now?"

She looked at him, almost surprised, blinked. Then slowly nodded, "Follow me."

"So much makes sense now," Roberta whispered. But if even he could hear it, Kora had heard it too. "Only you do not make sense."

"I am also friends with Fanny of Fiyul from Katcher." She nearly bumped into Kora, who had abruptly frozen in her steps. Then she threw her arm up, roared, and then sighed, "what to do I care" and walked on.

"I think you broke Kora," he said, "be gentle."

"No, I am fine. Just dead tired after being awake for 9800. And meeting my first human and the only cat outside the dramas who is friends with high-tiers of both Samul and Ketcher. And then, threw it all away like this." She turned, "Sorry, but to me, you are an ungrateful bitch."

Rerra laughed. "Yes, it looks like that. But, there is no freedom. And a mutation like me? I was hidden until entering Clarice, and then prime mobbing target."

"Yes, and I was mostly homeschooled." The fur even on Kora's face puffed out.

Roberta put a hand on Rerra's and Kora's shoulder. "Usually I am the reason people get at each other's throat," she sighed. "Stop your contest of misery. Rerra, you were privileged even if you disliked it. And Kora, she renounced it, she worked like a normal cat."

Kora looked down then looked straight at him. "I will bring you to my sister, but then I will go to the dormitory. I give you half a day back."

"No, you keep it."

Rerra looked at him questioning. "Not sure, what this means, but could we go on?"

"Human Marik hired me as a guide for the entire day for 50."

"Well, a good locking Ketcher should get that." He did not trust his ears. How could Rerra be so nonchalant on this?

"But we did not, I mean he was upfront on this." She shook her head. "I am too tired to think straight and the suppressant is not working well for me. Here." She opened the door. "Kira?"

"Kora?" Kora's clansister came around the divider in front of the door.

"Hello, I am Rerra of Codeson from Petra."

"Roberta from Samul."

"Kira of Ulta from Ketcher," she bowed slightly then looked a Kora.

"They want some real food. But with Samul, we cannot go to the cafeteria."

"Hm, there should be still some returns from lunch." She looked at a large clinic pad. "Four meals coming, minced giraffe-favoured goulash with koan root puree and taron soup." She grinned. "It does not get more real than this, unfortunately. But patients recover with that, so it is edible."

"Not for me sister, my shift starts in 2000." She bowed to him. "Human Marik from Llandaroso, it was very nice to meet you, even." She swallowed. "If you ever need my services, I would be happy to guide you again. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Kora of Ulta from Ketcher. It was nice and I thank you very much for all."

At least Kora smiled when she left.