series of buttons and lay inside the capsule before it closed.
Del waited near Thea’s capsule. Law moved
slowly, careful not to overexert himself, and Del dared not interfere. The
captain wasn’t too shy to ask for help when he needed it. It didn’t seem to be
the case. With difficulty, he managed to climb into the capsule.
“Don’t let Vee go too crazy.” Law winked before
resting his head on the support and closing his eyes.
“Captain!” Vee protested, but the capsule had
closed and Law probably hadn’t heard her.
Del checked each occupied capsule and,
satisfied, nodded to himself—a habit learned from humans. From that point
forward, they were in his care. How had they survived so long without someone
watching over them while in stasis? Del, who was made of several circuits and
mechanical parts, knew better than anybody how easy they could break. And Vee
had a limited action range, being unable to take them out of the capsules and
resuscitate them if needed. Del flexed his fingers thoughtfully. He needed to
make himself useful even when his programming didn’t force him to react.
“Do you have anything for me to do before I
get to work?” He gestured toward the chair.
“There’s an air filter that should be changed
in the medbay,” Vee said. “It collected a lot of Law’s blood from when we
temporarily switched to zero g right after leaving Etheros. Merrick said he’d
change it, but he never got around to doing it and I didn’t insist since we had
no patients stationed there.”
“I can change it after I study a guide,” said
Del. “Technical maintenance is not included in my knowledge base.”
“The nearest console is in the mess hall. A
wi-fi port would be good. It would facilitate your access to my data bases.”
Del pushed the chair toward the exit. “My
model does not have such a port. It was not considered necessary in my field of
activity. On the contrary, there were voices in the Etheros government which
claimed it would provide too much freedom for robots intended for social
interactions. They even established a law to ban them without special
permission.”
“We’re not on Etheros,” Vee said. “You can
install one. Or if you can’t, Merrick certainly can. He can fix anything. We’ll
be able to exchange information directly without wasting time to express it
orally.”
“I fear my processing speed is nothing
compared to yours. It would still be frustrating for you.”
And it would have allowed her to control him
like any mindless machine. After the recent escape from dismantling, Del didn’t
care for being under someone’s command again. He listened to Captain Law
because it was his ship, but that was all.
“I am capable of receiving information
visually, orally, and via a data cable,” Del said while pushing the door to the
mess hall, to make room for the chair. “A cable would not be practical on these
corridors, and there are not enough ports to connect on the ship. I am fine the
way it is.”
The blinking console disagreed with him a few
seconds later. It opened at his request, but when he called the air filters
maintenance guide, it denied his access.
“Vee, do you think you could give me crew
privileges?” Del asked. “At least until we cross the asteroid field ... If I
have other duties to fulfill as well, we will lose time with getting
permissions. Since you watch everything I do, it is not as if I can sabotage
the ship.”
“Of course you can’t,” Vee said in a
condescending tone. “Your programming doesn’t allow you to endanger people.
Okay, I’ll switch you to temporary employee status. Sorry, but I don’t want Law
to throw a fit if he hears he should give you a part of the profit. Ha!”
“I do not think that would be a problem,” Del
said, navigating through the menu on the console. “Our creators have made sure
robots do not have the same rights as humans.” He paused, intrigued by the
idea. “Why, do you get anything?”
“The