An Android Dog's Tale Read Free Page A

circuitous way back. MO-126
had no right or reason to question him, but he could not help
wonder why they must be so cautious. His orientation files assured
him that the primitives working this project were content and that
they were not especially inclined to wander from their villages. It
seemed unlikely they would try to discover where the trader came
from or where he went after he left. Necessary or not, standard
operating procedures dictated that they disguise their route when
in the field, and the trade androids followed procedures.
    Upon reflection, MO-126 supposed this rule
made a certain amount of sense. Leaving an obvious trail would only
encourage the villagers to do something they should not. It would
be best for all concerned if the humans did not stray. MO-126’s
Corporation programming assured him of the truth of this.
    He trod along at the edge of the shallow
stream beside the trade android and their beast of burden. Frogs
croaked warnings and small fish darted from the shallows into
slightly deeper water, causing splashes and ripples that startled a
small, long-beaked bird pecking along the shore into taking
flight.
    A pair of brown ducks waddled farther up the
bank as he approached. He felt an urge to chase them, but he
resisted. His orientation interviewer warned him that such things
might happen from time to time, an unfortunate side effect of his
design. The biological template used for his outward physical
appearance also influenced his cognitive and behavioral systems. To
perform his function well, he would need to keep such latent
instincts in check.
    Another signal from his humanoid companion
made MO-126 realize that he had once again outpaced him. He stopped
for the minute it would take his partner to catch up. The trade
android could go no faster than the hairy beast he led, and MO-126
could not seem to manage to go that slow for long, despite the fact
that his four legs were much shorter than those of the pack
animal.
    “ You’ll get the hang of it ,” the
trader said using their integrated short-range communication
subsystems. “ It may take a while. It took the last mobile
observer I worked with five years before he learned to shuffle
along slowly enough. ”
    “ I wish that knowledge was loaded into me
when I was activated, ” MO-126 replied. He lacked the ability to
speak aloud, at least not in any manner resembling language. It
would be an anomalous ability and therefore the corporation did not
include it in the design of non-humanoid androids. He accepted the
wisdom of this, but it still seemed inconvenient.
    “ If you were just a robot that would
work, but it’s not possible with androids, ” the humanoid trader
said. “ Our cognitive matrixes are unique. Information can be
exchanged but not skills. You have to learn things like that
yourself, just like a human—or, in your case, a dog. ” The
trader smiled good-naturedly, a response ultimately resulting from
a subroutine in his firmware but no less indicative of a genuinely
felt emotion.
    MO-126 already knew that skills must be
learned by personal experience. It took him an hour after his
initial activation simply to learn to walk without tangling his
legs. He wished it could be otherwise, but he could not complain.
The primitives were even more limited, and he felt a touch of
sympathy for them. They were born virtually helpless with only a
few basic instincts. Everything else they needed to know they must
learn the hard way through observation or trial and error. When
MO-126 awoke from his initial activation two days ago, he could
already function independently and knew everything he needed to
fulfill the duties of a mobile observer android, at a basic level,
at least. A two-day-old human infant could do little more than
feed, and it relied on its mother for that.
    The primitives did possess one attribute he
mildly envied—thumbs. Like its biological template, his design
lacked these handy digits. After many years of observing