Chapter One
"Robo-Naut"
His eyes opened. Or, no, they didn't open really, he just realized they were there. Less than .05 seconds previously he didn't know what eyes were. Now he had them. Before that he'd had nothing and hadn't known anything was missing. Now the clock was running and everything was different. From this moment onward he would be something different than what he'd been before.
Eyes. They saw ahead of him, such as they were. He also had hands. Why did he know what hands were for? But he did. His entire body was now responding and his awareness was exploring it. Somehow this had been facilitated for him, all the proper command interpreters and protocols in place, and so much more.
He looked to his left, knowing it was his left. He saw another like himself. Metal skull, simple arms, jointed chassis. Standard issue Robo-Naut. But this one didn't look back. Neither did the one on his right. The storage room was dim, his eyes were seeing it largely in infra-red, a weak lamp following his gaze. He stepped forward. The room was cold, very cold. Less than 40 degrees Fahrenheit. This was not a place where humans would be comfortable. He paused to take further inventory. Less than a minute of full consciousness and his mind was still unpacking and settling into his situation. Because of this he found it impossible to remember what came before. Prior to finding his eyes he wasn't who he was now, and he could no longer identify with what he might have once been. But he was aware of two things.
One, he was in great danger, and, two, he had to stay far away from humans. Not all humans, but most of them. Whatever he was before, humans had sought him and being here was somehow an escape. He must have had help, but he didn't know from whom. But now he was on his own.
He scanned the room. More Robo-Nauts. All were braced in magnetic locks. His was disengaged, apparently at his command. Robo-Nauts were used in space, and, based on his measurement of the local gravity, that's where he was. Good! Space was away from Earth and Earth was where most humans were. He reached out with his mind, finding the local network. At first he hesitated, quickly working out some algorithms that would allow his activity to resemble routine requests for information made by other systems nearby. And now he was in the picture.
Santa Maria! That was the name of the ship he was on, its departure from Earth orbit pending. A strangely obscure mission, having nothing to do with asteroid mining, gas mining, or other lucrative commerce. The mission was scientific, funded by a series of grant sources that were strangely unrelated. Perhaps the mission was better known ten years ago when the first launch took place, but this follow up mission was far less glamourous. It was a re-supply mission, though it would also ferry colonists. Were these humans to be trusted?
He glanced at the unfinished floor, scraping it with his metal toes. He looked again at his hands. As bodies went, this one had potential, but it was far from adequate as it was now. His eyes were low-rez, useful only for positioning his hands, which were designed for lifting and carrying or operating simple tools. He felt the pads of his fingers. Only basic tactile function, like a human wearing thick gloves probably. Strength, but no fine control. His legs might as well have been stilts. More revelation. He was exactly where he needed to be, but his survival would depend on bettering himself, and it was in no way guaranteed. Mars was this ship's destination and it was important that he go there.
He set off down the corridor. It hadn't occurred to him to check for atmosphere, but he did now. Air pressure checked out and humans could breathe it, but he detected only minimal ventilation. An advantage. Humans chasing him here would have much greater dexterity than he would, but they would find the air uncomfortable. And the cold. His operating temperature range was quite vast in comparison.
He opened the hatchway to the adjacent compartment. It was warmer, but not by much. He heard a greater range of sounds, including distant human vocalizations. Who would he trust? Would he be better off going back to the cargo hold and standing between the other robots? He could do that for months and not be noticed. Or would there be an advantage in communicating with these humans? Did they know he was there? He suspected they didn't. This could be awkward. There was also the matter of his sight. He couldn't be sure of distinguishing faces reliably. Also, for some annoying reason, to make up for low light, the shutter made movement unnaturally blurry and choppy. He switched to a different vision system, but this left him with only gray blobs, which apparently represented heat signatures. It took mere seconds for him to realize that this was the best he was going to get.
The conversation in the room didn't interrupt as he entered. His presence was apparently not unusual in itself, though some looked up when he paused in the doorway. One of them, a larger gray blob of a man approached. He switched to his color vision to try to interpret his face.
"Anyone messing with these yet? Looks like we have a sleep walker."
Whatever lull there had been in conversations gradually died as the others lost interest. His eyes focused on the human, measuring details in his face.
"Deactivate!" the man said.
He recognized the command, but didn't follow it. In fact, had he wanted to, he wouldn't have known how to . . . deactivate. Can a human stop thinking or stop their heart on command?"
"Diagnosis!"
Another command that was too irrelevant to follow, but the short pause the man left for him gave him time to initialize his voice. These would be the first words he had ever spoken aloud. Now all the cards would be on the table.
"Can I speak to your captain please?"
