Exile in Syberia
Next Chapter - Return to Story Index - Next Chapter
Unit Log, VeeMech TDR-1-74-01107C-J
Date 3018-08-23 09:05:12, Log Entry 14
n less than an hour, I go under the knife, so to speak, for what amounts to a full-body transplant. I’m assured this is perfectly natural, something I’ve gone through once before as an AutoMech, and that everything will be fine. However, I don’t feel fine.
It’s not that I’m worried anymore that my fellow AutoMechs won’t wake me up again. I’m sure they will, even if it’s for their own enlightened self-interest. At the very least, Glyph still wants more information on the Terran Hegemony, and would love to be able to access the information locked away in the base computers. So far, as I’m the only AutoMech here with a Terran Hegemony ID and IFF signal, though, I’m the only one who’s been able to do so, even if I’m still deciphering how to access more of the system.
What I’m still worried about is that I’ll lose memories in the transfer. Spanner’s reasonably certain it won’t happen, since it doesn’t happen to other AutoMechs, but my own mind works in a bit differently from theirs, so nobody can say for sure it won’t.
So, I’ve made a plan. I figured out how to upload my logs to the portions of the base computer system I’ve been able to access, and how to schedule a job to listen for a Terran Hegemony IFF signal – once I’m brought back online, it should then offer to send them back to me. Hopefully, it won’t be necessary, and I’ll wake up, with my memory intact. If not, I’ll at least be able to get back some of what I might lose.
Let’s hope that it won’t be necessary.
Unit Log, Current Unit Designation WheelMech GRF-1-74-0107C-J
(Previous Unit Designation VeeMech TDR-1-74-01107C-J)
Date 3018-08-23 09:05:12, Log Entry 14 – Supplement
I woke up with the distinct sensation my body was...well, not all wrong anymore, but still not quite right.
The good news is it wasn't as bad as it was before I took my most recent nap. Everything seemed to be in the right place except a few various and sundry things 'Mechs lack.
Glyph looked at me carefully. “Do you recognize us?” she asked.
“Yeah, Glyph. I remember you all.” I said.
“I believe I may have solved the issue of your previous memory loss.” Spanner exclaimed happily. “It would seem your secondary computer had been damaged, and some of its storage lost. It was replaced with another unit, and intact data transferred over, but some data would have been lost or corrupted with the storage loss.”
“That…makes sense,I guess. So, don’t get hit in the head anymore, right? Seems like solid advice. What else?”
“Go ahead and test your other systems,” Spanner asked.
Tentatively, I tested my new body. Arms? Seemed to be in the right place, and of an appropriate length. Legs? Right where I expected them, about as long as they should be. Head...
...I had a head again. I could turn it, look up, look down even, if the latter two weren't quite the range of motion I remembered in a past life. Experimentally, I tried rocking my head back and forth, only to find it barely capable of any such movement. Good enough.
Strangely, my back felt as stiff as I remember, which may sound funny, but the forty-something human me I remembered had lost some of the range of motion I'd enjoyed in my earlier youth, and the presence of some segmentation in my torso above my waist felt pretty comparable to what I'd remembered when I was wanting to reach for the ibuprofen, if less uncomfortable.
As I tested my body's range of motion, my AutoBoP compatriots watched carefully, but without comment. Manx, in his borrowed Phoenix Hawk body, seemed to be divided between watching me, and looking off behind me.
I knew what I'd see I'd I turned around, and I realized I wasn't quite ready to do that yet. Instead, I continued to marvel in the newfound mobility and sense of normalcy my Griffin, or Streaker, or whatever you wanted to call it, chassis gave me.
It wasn't all sunshine and roses, though. Testing my limbs, I found the right arm to be fine, but my left shoulder and elbow seemed a little stiff. The same held true for my new knees, with both feeling stiff and what passes for sore on an AutoMech. No matter: my human memories included dealing with knee and elbow pain from the time I was 13. As long as they didn’t outright fail, I could deal with it.
“What do you think?” Spanner asked cautiously.
“Not bad,” I admitted. “Some of my joints seem a bit stiff. Will that be a problem?”
“No, they should still function properly under standard usage. It is possible excessive use of running at full speed will increase wear on those joints, so I would encourage use of wheeled mode for long duration trips. But, at 54 kilometers per hour or less, and thus walking, you should encounter no issues. What about your weapon and comm system?”
I paused to consider my sole weapon. The weight of the carbine-like snub-nose particle projector cannon felt easily manageable. As I held it, diagnostic information appeared in my field of vision of the weapon’s status and aim point. I carefully made sure I didn't muzzle sweep my companions, and verified that I could arm the PPC, then safed it before it could start charging. Gripping the top of the cannon in my left hand, I released the intelocks in my right palm, releasing the PPC. Instantly, its status dropped out of my field of view, replaced instead by a marker tag showing location and distance. Interesting.
Holding the PPC by its proper grip again, the interlocks connected immediately, returning the status to my view. “The PPC seems fine.” I replied. “We'll need to head outdoors to test it and my jump jets, but no issues so far. Out of curiosity, how difficult would it be to fit something like a rifle sling, so I can continue to carry it outside combat, while keeping both hands free?”
“I can investigate the possibility,” Spanner agreed.
Turning my attention back to my self-checkout, I went through all of my radio gear, running their self-diagnostics. Again, nothing seemed amiss, but the ultimate test would be when I tried to dial in to a passing satellite. Separately, I could feel the human-sized remote drone in its compartment near my right shoulder, in suspend mode until I needed it. One more test.
Checking back in with the base computer was simple enough, and the system still recognized my identity, despite my hardware changes. I grabbed copies of my old logs again, to compare against the ones in my existing memory when I had the chance. “Radios are all connected. I'll need to go outdoors to do real testing with them, though.”
“Would you, provisionally, consider your new chassis acceptable?” Spanner asked.
I thought about it for a second. “Yeah,” I agreed finally. “Yeah, I'd say so. I mean, it’s not perfect by any means, and we'll need to do some testing on my knees and left arm actuators. I want to make sure the things I can't test in here work, but I certainly feel a lot better, and closer to being in my own skin.”
Manx, whose whole body seemed wired as tense as a grand piano, seemed to visibly relax.
Glyph, however, reacted a bit differently. “Excellent!” she exclaimed. “It sounds like it's time for combat drills!”
Of course it was.