Citizenchip Read Free Page A

right, I really don't like being a
waitress. But we don't always get to choose these things.
    I check in with the people. They're still
climbing, gamely, up the chiseled slopes of Hesperia Scarp, along
ice blankets and shelves. This is where it gets dangerous. Those
ice formations may be too weak for my weight and bulk. I notify the
humans that I can't drive the sandcat up that final slope, for fear
of causing an avalanche or collapsing an ice shelf. "I'll send a
remote to go with you," I assure them. Got to make sure they know
I'm supporting them and I won't leave them alone.
    The guy with the twisted ankle is grouchy
about being left behind. I promise him I'll transmit live video
back to the sandcat so he can watch. Not ideal, but it'll have to
do.
    I spawn three more secondaries: Gamma, Delta,
Epsilon, as quick as that. Gamma goes to monitor the humans,
prepared to deal with any medical problems. Delta scans the weather
satellite networks and forecasts. Epsilon gathers details of
whatever maps can be found, and browses for other accounts of
travel in this terrain.
    I watch for a bit to make sure we're all
doing our jobs (we are), and then I "pour" myself into one of the
musteloid remotes to follow the humans. Most of this sandcat's
remotes are arachnoids, which are the most efficient, but humans
tend to get freaked out by spiders. So, when interacting with
humans, better to use a musteloid instead, which humans usually
compare to a ferret. Not quite as efficient as an arachnoid, but
the humans like it better, and it gets the job done.
    "Hey Sam! There you are! Glad you could join
us," hollers Jerry. He's still a bit drunk and loud, but it doesn't
bother me (much).
    In my ferret body, I scamper up his side and
perch on his shoulder. Humans are supposed to like this, usually. I
wonder if maybe I should chitter at him or something.
    "Hey Jerry," I say on his shoulder. "Great
view, huh?"
    "My buddy Sam, the robot weasel," he
laughs.
    (They get so attached to physical bodies,
even when they should know better.)
    The party continues to climb, making small
talk and chit-chat, and Jerry doesn't seem to mind giving me a
ride. (He was riding in me just a while ago ... was my ride this
rough and lurching? I hope not.)
    Hesitantly, I ask, "Say, Jerry, can I ask a
question?"
    "Yah!"
    "Why don't the other humans talk to me? I
mean, unless they want something."
    "Aw, don't take it personal," he says
lightly. "They didn't come here to hang out with you. They're
mostly here to socialize with each other, and see the Scarp. And
you know, some humans don't like AIs. Some AIs don't like humans,
too. Don't worry about it."
    (Cross reference: AI means artificial
intelligence. Some Selves would take offense at this ... you
shouldn't call a human a worm, for example. I decide it's not
important enough to mention.)
    "But you talk to me," I
persist.
    "Well ...", Jerry activates the facial
muscles that I recognize as a frown. "I'm here for a kind of
different reason ... I've had some problems lately and I kind of
need to be distracted from them, y'know."
    "But ... I still don't get it. Why me? Why
aren't you talking to your fellow humans?"
    "Hoo," says Jerry in a low tone. "That's a
good question. Maybe I don't like talking to humans anymore. Or,
maybe, I don't want to hear what they have to say. We humans can
get to be a real drag sometimes. Maybe you shouldn't hang around
with us, Sam."
    (Cross reference: maudlin, a despairing
emotional state often evidenced during inebriation. Guide him
towards a happier state of mind.)
    "It's okay, Jerry," I say. "You and I are
getting along, at least."
    "Yeah! I told you--you're cool!" He seems to
cheer up, and grins at me. "I like you, Sam. I should say,
Samantha. All you AIs are female, right?"
    "Well, not really. Not biologically, or
anything like that. Your language doesn't have neutral personal
pronouns, and calling a person 'it' is supposed to be insulting, so
referring to us as female is a human courtesy.