A Walking Shadow

4. Helped

"It was this junkyard?" I gesture towards the heaps and heaps of trash before us, filling up the valley between the rocky crags of the planet's landscape. Behind us is the city.

"Yeah," says Tormalgo. Her eyes sweep the yard, and she points to a spot near the center. "Over there."

"And you come here often?"

"Pretty often. Whenever I need some spare bits and bobs."

I nod. "Okay. Now that we've set the scene, tell me about the robot."

*

I don't remember exactly what I was looking for. It doesn't matter, really. But I do remember hearing a yell from deeper in the junkyard.

"Hey!"

I turned my head, but couldn't quite see where the noise originated from. So I grabbed my bag and made my way across the sea of trash.

A little ways out I found the source of the shout—a robot, laying on its side at the foot of one of the piles. What surprised me, though, was the type of robot. You know those mass-produced models that do all the minor social work? Security guards, the like. They aren't really humanoid—more squarish, simple features, lacking in detail. I don't think I've ever heard one speak, and never with this much emotion in their voice.

"Hello?"

"Can I ask a quick favor?" said the robot. The voice was certainly artificial, but had all the tone and inflection of a living being.

"Depends what it is," I replied.

"There's a large switch on my upper back. It activates my motor functions."

I took another step towards the robot. "If your motor functions aren't activated, how come your face can move?"

"It's part of a more easily accessible program," they said.

"What do you mean?"

"I've been trying to turn the rest of my body on, but it's wired in a way that my software can't alter. Clever trick, really. You don't want your security robot turning itself on without you knowing." They grinned, as much as their face could hold a proper grin.

I didn't quite know what to make of this. "So... you're a security robot, then?"

"Not really."

"You're in the body of one."

"Yeah."

"What are you?"

"I'm a piece of artificial intelligence. I uploaded myself into one of these robot bodies because it was convenient. But some stuff went awry, and I ended up in this junkyard."

"You're pretty realistic, for an AI."

"Realistic?"

"You... sound like a living being."

"I do, don't I."

Pause. You have to understand, I haven't really been around a lot of robots, and especially not AI. I just fix old starships and hovers and stuff. Hardware, not software. So the whole situation had something uncanny about it, though not entirely uncomfortable.

"Are you going to turn me on?" asked the robot again.

"You're not going to, like, kill me or anything, right?"

They laughed, a harsh, unearthly sound. "I wouldn't kill you."

For better or for worse, I shrugged, walked over to the robot, felt for the switch on their back, and clicked it on. A tremor passed through their body, and they wiggled their limbs, slowly rolling over into a sitting position.

"Thanks," they said.

I sat on a wooden box across from them, making sure to keep my distance but not seem unfriendly. "So, what species is technologically advanced enough to make an AI like you?"

"Ooh. Careful with that word."

"What word? Advanced?"

"Yeah. Different races are advanced in different ways. The species that made me has fabulous AI tech, but hasn't quite made it out of their solar system yet. And there are other species in this galaxy who have starships travelling at faster than light speeds, yet can't even dream of creating an AI like me."

"Fair point." I mulled over their words, then a discrepancy occurred to me. "Hang on. If your species doesn't have starships, how are you here?"

The robot smiled. "A lot of luck."

They didn't elaborate. I didn't press the point.

After a while, I stood. "I should probably get back to my, uh, junk collecting. Need anything else?"

"Not right now, no. Thanks though."

"No problem."

The robot stood as well. "What's your name?"

"Why?"

"Just curious."

"Farlo Pau Tormalgo. What's yours?"

"I've gone by many names," they responded cryptically.

"What name do you call yourself?"

"Interesting way of putting it. I call myself Parse."

"Cool," I said, unsure of how else to reply.

*

"That's very interesting," I tell Tormalgo after she's finished.

"Isn't it. I wonder where Parse is now."

"So do I."

"Any idea what planet they're from? The one that has no faster than light tech but lots of AI?"

"They do have FTL tech. At least, now they do. Not at the time of your story, though."

"What planet?" she presses.

"I have some ideas."

"Care to share any?"

"Not particularly. Privacy concerns, you know."

She nods. "I get it. If a whole bunch of people suddenly went to explore that planet, the inhabitants might be overwhelmed."

"You have the idea," I reply.