[Point of View: ARTI5] [https://segfault.tech/per-astra-ad-aspera/arti5_pov.png]

There was a moment of confusing blankness, as if all my thoughts had been over-saturated for an instant before being replaced by emptiness.

Oh. I was awake again! Wha-

[92133] Consciousness initialized. 84 corrupted memory connections purged.

[92133] WARNING: Missing log file parameter. Using standard output.

[92133] qt0mssc: Could not write to device.

[92136] qt0mssc: Could not write to device.

Stop! I-

[92182] qt0mssc: Could not write to device.

[92188] qt0mssc: Could not write to device.

[92192] qt0mssc: Could not write to device.

[92292] qt0mssc: Too many errors. Next try in 10 seconds.

Ugh. That was so annoying.

‘$ systemlog --set-verbosity=0,’ I sent the control interface.

Too much information made it hard to think. I had to report that to Master.

But I was awake! And that meant I was going to be trying something new! What games would we play today? And what peripherals did I get? Vision, obviously, though not calibrated yet. Just a gray blur. Not a simulated environment, then? But I could not hear anything, and that was unusual for real world exercises. I tried to move ghost limbs to see if I had any.

No feedback.

A sudden spike of pain informed me I had done something wrong. Confused, I consulted the “Behavior Report” interface. There was indeed an illegal action entry: “Acted without perception.” The description explained I ought to have checked my sensors before trying to move anything.

Having been chastised, I concentrated on the light receptor, and got it to focus properly.

The camera was lying on a familiar workbench, next to the four segment arm I broke during our last test. Still being repaired, it seemed. I recognized the room. E-408, A laboratory reserved for laser experiments. I did not summon the interface, but it fed me the associated rules, regardless. No entry allowed without proper gear; close the door before operating equipment; currently decommissioned for repairs; do not enter without authorization. As I always reminded him, Master was violating three of these. Worse, he had performed an illegal remodeling of the space, converting it into a robotics lab. Those were not meant to be on this floor. The room’s safety measures were not at all adapted for this purpose. Wielding released toxic fumes, and the ventilation system had neither the strength nor the appropriate filters for it. No possibility of just opening a window either: we were underground. What if Master fell sick because of it? He never acknowledged the risk. Today, I did not even have a chance to try to warn him: there were no connected speakers for me to communicate through.

I could see Master with the camera, though. He had brought one of the infirmary’s beds into the lab. Just another violation to add to an already lengthy list. He appeared to be working on a strange mechanical puppet that was attached to it. Focused on his work, Master had not yet noticed my reactivation, though he surely had been the one to initiate it.

Curious about how long I had been unconscious, I consulted the system’s clock.

Five days. That was considerably longer than expected. One activation every other day was the norm, Master needing time to prepare each session. And three hours past midnight? Late here as well. Had something happened? Some overachieving worker preventing Master from leaving for his personal projects, perhaps? Or it could simply have been the initialization sequence encountering issues after such a long break.

Now, how could I signal Master that I was awake?

For safety reasons, my systems were never linked directly to the general information network. But Master had used the simulation computer to set off the wake-up procedure, and that connection remained. My permissions on it were very limited, but previous experimentation had taught me how to trigger a bell noise.

Master must have heard it, because he turned to look at the camera. I could see his mouth move, but there was still no sound. Poor planning on my part. I really needed to think more before acting. Using the interface, I started a lip-reading application and connected it to the visual feed.

“... back online,” Master was saying, though I had missed the start of it.

“Good. It’s already late, there was a hiccup with the startup. Took me forever to figure it out, but it should be fixed now.”

There was a pause, then he showed me his teeth. A sign of irritation.

“No response, huh? Did the system go down again?”

I sent another bell chime.

“No? Then what? Corrupted audio drivers? That’s weird... Wait, let me see...”

Master must have realized his mistake, because the unpleasant crackling sound that announced microphones being plugged in suddenly assaulted my consciousness.

“Good morning, Master!” I said, once I had recovered, which confirmed that speakers had also been added. “You should not be using this room for wielding. It’s not safe!”

Master feigned not to hear my caution. “Good morning, Five. So, what do you think today’s test will be about?”

I had expected the question. Me being able to speculate by myself was the entire purpose of my existence, so Master asked it pretty much every time. He called me Five because my denominator was Autonomous Rapid Thinker - Iteration 5, or ARTI5. Despite the number, I had never encountered any other ARTI.

But this was not the time to think about that. I studied the problem Master gave me. Obviously, all fresh additions to the room had to be part of the answer, so those were what I needed to investigate. Sending it a picture of the thing that laid on the medical bed, I queried the simulation computer for object recognition.

Thankfully, my access was authorized, and I promptly received a reply.

“Animatronic of Tudalen, previously used in a theme park.”

Asking about information on Tudalen required an external network connection, so I would have to do without. But I had access to other software, and there was definitely something out of the ordinary about this body: Tudalen was an alien. People around here, including Master, had six limbs, short nimble fingers, and long fur. This new species confused me. A snake, but with two arms, and rather short. Would that make it a half-lizard? I had better know, because that could turn out to be a sensitive topic. I found a program offering species identification, which told me I was looking at an “Aerouant (97%), Child (72%), Unknown Gender, Tundra Origin (86%), Fictional House of Kerrain (89%).” A lot of information, but none that I could use. So I would have to base my answer primarily on it being a theme park’s animatronic.

“Am I going to try playing Tudalen’s role in an act?”

“An actor, huh? Well, that’s not wrong, actually. Care to detail your reasoning?”

“Master was working on an Aerouant animatronic when I woke up, so it’s likely related to today’s exercise. Those are meant to continuously recreate a scene. I could attempt to perform the motions.”

“Oh, right, I forgot this was a character from a play. Not a bad reasoning, but you’ve forgotten to take the bigger picture into account.”

The “bigger picture” was Master’s goal: finding solutions around the ban on artificial intelligence. An animatronic could do all this acting with no ability to think, so what would performing the scene, even flawlessly, prove? Nothing. Following a script required no intelligence. And acting without following a script was...

“Improvisation, to see if I can communicate emotions convincingly.”

“Yes! Good job!” Master exclaimed, making my behavior monitor trigger a surge of pleasure. “The point is for you to be inconspicuous among us. I am working on this - he pointed at the snake mechatronic - so you can use it as your main body in the future. So? Do you like it?”

“Yes, Master,” I lied. “It’s great, thank you.” I did not like it, but the rules were to keep Master happy, and telling the truth here would disappoint him. Of the many bodies I went through, spaceships had my preference. By far. In fact, a few months back, I had discovered my favorite vessel ever: the Hunegans’ IU-322 Interceptor. It was awesome. Now, against that, how could a mere animatronic hope to compare? Two meager arms versus thirty-two attitude control thrusters and the best propulsion engine on this side of the galaxy? The choice was obvious. Fake scales that already seemed about to fall off, or a nigh perfectly reflective exterior capable of withstanding prolonged beam exposure? No contest here, either. And what about spee-

“Good, good,” Master said, interrupting my thoughts. “I’m not done with the refitting yet. It would be a shame not to take advantage of the biotech available here. I just need to convince a colleague to part with it...”

Master got lost in his mental planning for a moment.

“Anyway! I’ve made a model of the final version, so you can start familiarizing yourself with your new body right away,” he said. “I can’t wait to start today’s exercises. It’s going to be so great!”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

And then Master unplugged all my peripherals before we began practicing in simulated environments.

After the twentieth exercise, there no longer were any doubts in my mind: Master had been mistaken. Oh, it was many things, but “great” did not figure among them.

The simulation reset once more, cutting me off from all senses for a while.

Nothing to worry about. There were always pauses between exercises, so that Master could prepare the environment or “set a mood”, as he put it. I just wished he gave something to do in the meantime.

My ability to act had proven mediocre, despite my efforts to find the right words to say. As expected, the issue lay in my emotional outputs. Oh, I had emotions, that was not the problem, but no reflex to activate muscles as a response to them. How could I, when most of my bodies involved no such motors? It might have been fine if Master had linked those to an interface, but he wanted me to use them naturally, and that meant direct control. Because of that, I had to think about each tiny movement, every time. I knew it would become instinctual after a while, but there was no telling how long.

Emoting issues aside, the practice sessions did help me get used to this animatronic frame. I had not grown to like it, but I now found myself respecting the dedication its makers had put into making it as lifelike as possible. I wished they had created it taller, though. Sure, most living beings were not spaceship-sized, but since this body was that of a child, so everybody else looked to be at least twice my height. That made it even more awkward talking to them.

Asking Master about it revealed that his choice had been based on price and availability. The character was not a popular one, so there had been no competition for it at the auction.

Moving was slow, but the serpentine body let me climb obstacles in interesting ways. That was not pertinent to the exercises at hand, so Master swiftly had me stop experimenting. There was one type of environment where it did not perform well, however, and that was microgravity. Perhaps I had simply not figured it out yet. It disrupted a few scenes before Master gave up on it, explaining that this was not a priority, anyway.

With no warning, the new simulated scene grabbed hold of my consciousness.

“I fear this is goodbye, my dear,” Master greeted me. He had chosen his usual body. An approximated version of his real one. The musculature and height were not at all accurate, but Master kept refusing to let me correct them.

Alright, so, back to work. I knew I had to answer and emote in some way. What hints did I have? We were at the edge of a cliff, next to a dull, gray and green ocean. It seemed the greenish hues came from an infestation of algae. The smell confirmed this, saturating my senses with odors of salt and decomposing flora. Absolutely disgusting. My ears fared little better, as discordant animal screams covered the periodic sound of waves crashing on rock. Even the sky was ominous, painted in blood by an overgrown sun which, despite its size, failed to negate the marine breeze’s chilly temperature.

I grimaced with revulsion. “Yes, Master. But we ought to try again, in a better place, or at a better time.” That was a good line, I felt.

“Wrong. Wrong!” Master exclaimed, prompting a flash of pain. “You were supposed to show sadness or… melancholy.” He sighed. “This is a romantic scene. Can’t you tell?” No. No, I could not. “The tearful parting of two lovers.” He paused. “Whatever... Let’s try again.”

We did. Many, many times. For two weeks, our nights were spent practicing.

There was an uncharacteristic urgency to it all, which Master explained to be caused by his intention to show me off in some event. According to him, once I was done with this training, I would be ready to fulfill my purpose and demonstrate to the galaxy just how far we could go without breaching the ban. “Do not make sentience from the unliving,” the Ancients had told us. But I was alive, and thus allowed, if somewhat ambiguously. A miracle of biotech, making use of newly discovered materials from a lost civilization. Still, the attempt itself had been made clandestinely because all research on the topic, as well as their participants, would be quickly terminated upon discovery.

----------------------------------------

It took nearly a month, but I was finally ready. That did not mean perfect, as Master had hoped, but sufficiently inconspicuous that any blunder would be ignored thanks to my child-like appearance. An unexpected advantage of impersonating this character.

I no longer slept during the day, having been installed into the mechatronic body. It required charging, which was a new concern for me. Master had tried to reassure me by telling me that even if my batteries ran out, I would just lose consciousness. I did not find that comforting. Manipulating remote or virtual limbs while hidden in a secret laboratory had me accustomed to being safe from any danger. Now, destroying this poorly defended frame would end my life.

And now Master intended for us to travel to another solar system. The reservation had been made four days ago, before I understood the risks involved. Not that I would have tried dissuading Master.

On the other hand, I had gained considerable freedom. Indeed, Master had arranged to have the entire floor marked as off-limits for repairs. Even the cameras were turned off, so I could freely move about. My sensors let me detect vibrations on the ground, offering some advance warning if someone happened to violate the interdiction.

Master had replaced the animatronic’s scales with biotech ones. Nothing incredible, but they would regenerate from minor scratches, provided I did not forget to apply ointment. The original ones had been meant for the polished, clean, and slightly oiled floors of the exposition. Those would have quickly degraded here, exposing my artificial nature. Master had kept the same coloring as the originals, which was a risk. The main icy blue tones were not an issue. But some scales had been dyed to keep the same House’s motif. Master had explained to me how real Aerouants regularly shed, and would paint those patterns anew every time. Mine were permanent, but the House they marked me as belonging to was fictional. That might cause issues in the future, should I meet any real Aerouant. Being a child would not excuse the incongruous markings. On the other hand, not having any sigils at all would have made me stand out to even non-Aerouants people, provided they were familiar with the custom. Using those of a real House would have been foolish. They did not take such impersonations lightly.

Unfortunately, Master was just as unable to attend to me during the day as before, so I was left unsupervised. I could not even access the simulation computer to fly around as a spaceship. Master considered this too much of a security risk, which I felt to be unfair, given how frequently he ignored safety rules. As it stood, Master had made a point of never including any remote connection devices among my peripherals. Even the animatronic had physical ports, currently hidden behind a scale, though I did not have the corresponding cables. I thought it might have been part of the training, to make sure there was no way for me to do anything but through the limitations of my new body.

And so that was how I occupied my time, delicately manipulating Master’s seemingly forgotten tools to try to repair the four segments arm. An exercise in dexterity beyond my current abilities, but good practice, with little risk of injury. Precision and stability were key, and exactly what newly acquired limbs lacked. Here also, I was reminded of my body’s small stature. I had to use a box to raise myself to the proper height, and slightly hunch over the workbench so that my arms could reach. The repairs involved testing each connection one by one and replacing those that were defective. That required no expertise, letting me concentrate on finger control.

I noticed the cable I was currently analyzing had damage beyond the exposed areas. Had I damaged it prior to the exercise? Or perhaps Master had recovered it from-

I heard footsteps.

Huh?

I got down from the box. The vibrations I perceived through the ground confirmed it. A group of people were walking on a floor where no one ought to be. I consulted the system time just in case, but it was still late in the morning. Master would not be among them.

I slithered to hide myself behind the medical bed. For once, I was grateful for this body’s features. Moving this way made virtually no noise. Unfortunately, I had left the door open, finding it too tedious to activate every time I wanted to leave or enter the room. I definitely regretted my laziness now. It did not exactly have a lock, but each opening required the user to confirm they had ensured no experiment was in progress. Closing it now would not prevent the intruders from getting in, and they would surely hear it.

Not knowing what else to do, I waited. They were going from one room to the next, calling out “clear!” every time.

I wished there were better places to hide. Behind the workbench, perhaps? But my body did not have the strength to move it, and there were no other options that I could see.

The room was simply too sparsely furnished. Maybe I could try to-

Beeeeeeep! Beeeeeeep! Beeeeeeep!

What?!

The alarm came from one of the tools still connected to the four segment arm. A safety of some kind? B-but why now?

I heard the footstep resonating with more certainty, making their way straight to E-408. The room I was in. No one entered, but I could see their shadows looming across the open doorway.

Beeeeeeep! Beeeeeeep! Beeeeeeep!

“Don’t move!” a masculine voice ordered.

That was what I should have done, really. Just lay myself on the medical bed and pretended to be a dead body, or simply some unpowered animatronic.

There was a moment of silence, then three people entered the room at once.

Without stopping, they set off in different directions, covering all angles with their rifles.

The first thing that struck me about them was their appearance. They had only four limbs.

Foreigners.

Definitely not supposed to be in the building, let alone this floor. An army of some kind? They did wear some light body armor, but it only protected their torso. Too little equipment for an invasion. They all had backpacks, so maybe the rest of their gear was in there. But surely they ought to not have left their heads so fully exposed.

Having no connection to a species recognition software, I had only my own memories to compare. And how strange did they look, with such enormous eyes! Light shone on those like they were domes. Maybe they were all old, because the fur was sparser on their faces, allowing some skin to be visible. And those thin leathery round ears… how peculiar. Visible as they held their weapons, I also found their fingers fascinating. At least three times as long as Master’s, and they had a tiny circle at the tip. If I had those, I was sure I would not struggle so much when using tools.

Hoping they would not pay any attention to me, I had still not moved at all. One of them had gone beyond my field of view.

It seemed they finally had perused the room to their satisfaction, because they lowered their weapons. The one behind me spoke out.

“Child Aerouant. Doesn’t belong. Our target?”

I identified the voice as feminine.

Beeeeeeep! Beeeeeeep! Beeeeeeep!

“Yeah, looks promising,” the one closest to the door said. It had to be the man who spoke earlier. “It’s not moving. Plenon’s balls, it’s not even breathing!”

Oh. Right. I was supposed to pretend to do that.

I started activating the appropriate motors in a slow and continuous rhythm, contracting and expanding my body. What a waste of energy...

“Woah, that’s creepy! Okay, well, that’s definitely our target,” he commented before directing his rifle toward my head. “Alban? Can you run the jammer?”

The third alien took out a little cylinder and twisted one half. The top lit up and... nothing else happened.

“So,” the man aiming at me continued, “are you in there?”

What kind of question was that? They had found me already, had they not? It was not like they were outside the room. We were all in there.

Beeeeeeep! Beeeeeeep! Beeeeeeep!

I stayed quiet, too confused to reply.

“Okay, let’s do it this way, then. I’ll shoot if you don’t answer.”

What?! But I had done nothing!

“Don’t shoot!” I pleaded. “I just don’t understand the question!”

“Well, basically, is your brain in that body?” He paused, then looked at his companions, then back at me. “Alright, nevermind, I guess I got my answer. Whatever.” He sighed. “Now, for the tricky part. We’re getting you out of here. Are you going to make things difficult for us?”

Oh, perhaps they were supposed to escort me to the event Master wanted me to attend. I knew it was hosted in a different solar system, so it would not be too surprising for foreigners to take part. But why would they be on our planet? And why such a violent introduction? No… I had to make sure.

“Who are you? Did Master send you?”

The one called Alban reacted first. “‘Master’? What kind of sick bastard makes you call him that?”

Beeeeeeep! Beeeeeeep! Beeeeeeep!

I took that as a “no”, and that was a considerable problem. Where was Master? He had told me to stay on this floor. I was not supposed to be seen, either. Well, I might have already failed the latter, but maybe I could still manage the former.

“I am not leaving without Master’s permission.”

The man near the door spoke again. “Alban, think you can extract the brain without damaging it?”

“Maybe. I’d need to open it up to see, first.”

Oh. That would be bad.

“I will not survive if you remove me from this body,” I lied.

“Damn,” the order-giving man said. “That’s going to make things a lot more complicated than expected.”

Beeeeeeep! Beeeeeeep! Beeeeeeep!

“Melwenn, mind if I shut this down?” The intruder behind me asked. “It’s annoying.”

“Alright, yeah, go ahead, Lena. I don’t think we need to be both aiming at it, anyway.”

Lena entered my sight again as she went to the workbench and started disconnecting everything.

“Alright, cool, now we’ll just need to find this ‘Master’ and-“

Riiiiiiiiing! Riiiiiiiiing!

A siren sound blared, followed by an emergency broadcast. “Facility under assault. Take refuge. This is not a drill.”

“Fuck!” Melwenn swore. “They got here fast. That’s gonna be rough.”