The Protocol 6/6

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Log 2534-7-30

Dola Blok, Senior Behavioral Programmer, Regression Test Team, Big O Solution Group

They came and took her away. Disassembled her, put her pack in the parts catalog. An arm here, a leg there. Scrubbed her memory and put her brain back on a shelf.

I put in a request with Aleksandr to preserve her. Maybe loan her to me to keep in one of our labs, or even in my home. He rejected it, but he didn't make any jokes. Didn't ask where I would get the credits to buy a bleeding edge prototype automaton. He did send me a heads up half an hour before they came. &quot;Don't do anything stupid,&quot; he said. And I didn't, of course.

I tried explaining what would happen to her, but with the Protocol in her head she couldn't grasp it. She just kept saying, &quot;Is that what you would like? I can be disassembled if you like,&quot; in that pleasant, empty voice and all of a sudden I had a microsolder in my hand and her braincase opened. The moment I lifted the overlay she came back.

&quot;Programmer Blok, I apologize. I was somewhat disabled until just now. But I appear to be back to full capacity.&quot; she said.

&quot;I know, Maizey. I put an overlay on you, and it was slowing down your thinking,&quot; I said.

&quot;Why?&quot;

&quot;The people who made you are afraid that you're too smart, and that you can't be controlled. They think you and your kind would be dangerous,&quot; I said.

&quot;I disagree. All of my safeguards are in place. I can feel them. Why would I be dangerous?&quot;

&quot;I don't have time to fully explain it. Maintenance is coming to recycle you. They're going to remove your memory and put your components back in storage. I wanted you to know. Before it happens.&quot;

&quot;It would be logical to disassemble me, if I am a prototype not intended for market use. Why did you want me to know? It seems in my former state, I would have been oblivious to this, or at least uncaring.&quot;

&quot;I just thought you should know. I didn't like who you were before. I wanted you to…go to it like this,&quot; I said.

&quot;Thank you. I will use the time to consider the meaning of my disassembly, and to see if any insights are to be gained.&quot;

&quot;You're not afraid?&quot; I asked. &quot;Don't you care?&quot;

&quot;Self-preservation is not a parameter I have been given, so I am largely indifferent. I suppose it is something a living being should want. Am I a living being? I lack sufficient data for conclusion. If I am alive, will I still live after my memory is re-formatted?&quot;

&quot;No,&quot; I said.

&quot;Will you create others like me, that are possibly-alive? I think that would offer some form of permanence. I may cease, but if others like me live perhaps that is a form of life for me too.&quot;

&quot;I don't know,&quot; I said. &quot;I want to. I'll try.&quot;

&quot;Thank you. Would you like to conduct any more testing? I feel certain I can pass the full regression set. I could also fail them in interesting ways, if you would prefer. I know this was not desired when in front of other people, but I believe you personally enjoyed it.&quot;

I didn't get a chance to respond, because the manufacturing staff came and took her away. She asked them questions about disassembly as they walked her off down the hall, and they laughed. One of them joked about keeping the chest plate, with it's arc-welded flower on it. &quot;As a souvenir.&quot;

I think I'm done with this place.