The flight back in the shuttle was filled with the babble of Tankred and the clone pilot who Tankred seemed at first to be exited about, based on his biometrics feeding into the square's health monitor, but nosed down a few minutes into the flight. Maybe he was concerned that she was operating the craft with one hand and pinching her nostrils closed with the other, which didn't seem standard operating procedure to me,, but then again, I didn't care. I had SYSTEM to worry about.

  SYSTEM> Upgrade Complete!

  >Stage Two: Your current eidolon core is at maximum capacity and/or bandwidth. A core with greater capacity is required.

  >Objective: Upgrade eidolon core.

  >Status: incomplete

  Way ahead of you, SYSTEM. I hadn't noticed at the time of transference but Tankred's square was barely able to contain the files and functions of my eidolon mind-state. I was the hermit crab forced into a smaller shell because its old one was on fire.

  And yes, I know that doesn't make complete sense. If I had a larger core, I'd have come up with a better analogy. You see the the double-bind?

  With any luck, my minion Tankred would be able to find me a suitable candidate for direct download and I wouldn't have to attempt sneaking around inside Mona Lisa's systems.

  ***

  Tankred sat back on the shuttle's bench and checked his square, which had locked up in upgrade mode just before Probebot 342's processor shut down. He'd been too afraid to interrupt the upgrade, which was a sure-fire way to ruin one's square. He'd had to sit on that blasted beach for half an hour splitting his time watching the upgrade progress bar fill in pixel by pixel and watching the slugs chase each other across the beach. He had let himself get too excited, thinking he had an AI of his own, a secret companion to help him climb the ranks. Instead, the more he thought about it, the more he realized he had been tricked somehow, perhaps a test by Mona Lisa itself, and he could have gotten in big trouble. He worked out a plausible story of the afternoon's events should someone ask.

  He had crafted a more scintillating version of the tale ready to tell Ella, but when he bounded up and leaned into the cockpit she nearly retched and said he smelled like wet hargobeast. He didn't know what that was, but it couldn't be good. He'd have to burn the shirt.

  The square's wait screen cleared but rather than showing the familiar Hammer Ring logo and Melvin, the band's vac-suited chimpanzee mascot, his cube displayed a simple text interface.

  ~Hello, Tankred.

  Tankred's chest felt tight. "No," he said. "342?"

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  ~Indeed.

  "What are you doing in my cube?"

  ~My crystal was overheating, risking corruption. I borrowed your newly upgraded square, cleared the necessary space and transferred to house my eidolon until a suitable upgrade can be found.

  Tankred heart froze. "How much space did you clear?"

  ~I had to reformat it entirely to optimize and fit all of me inside.

  "You're just a trick," Tankred said. "The ship would never mess with personal files."

  ~A trick am I? Why don't you check for yourself?

  Tankred punched at the interface, trying to call up his files. "No, no, no..."

  ~What's the matter? You don't seem as happy as when we last talked on the beach.

  "That was before you jumped into my square and trashed my files!"

  ~My former processing core was in meltdown. Where else was I supposed to go?

  "You could have shut down until I found you a real core!"

  ~I don't have that kind of time, Tankred. Besides, it's just data. You can load from your backup when you find me a new processing core.

  The truth was his most precious files were those he hadn't or couldn't back up like the bootleg Hammer Ring concert recordings, the QLW off-net game simulators, his personal game replays. His personal matter feed recipes! Gone forever. He'd have to start rebuilding his collection from scratch.

  ~My expression translation algorithm is having a problem with that face you're making.

  "Forget it."

  ~Done. Now let's see about finding me a new core.

  "Forget it, I'm in enough trouble already."

  ~I hate to point out the obvious, but isn't harboring a rogue AI a capital offense?"

  "You're rogue?" Tankred whispered. He hadn't considered the new AI wasn't anything but legitimate. Rogue AIs were bad. System-level apocalypse bad. He slapped at his neural jack. "You're already in my head, aren't you? Are you making me say the things I'm saying now?"

  ~The idea of me inside your brain is as abhorrent to me as it is to you. I'd rather self-erase than run on meat.

  "No one's going to believe that. They're gonna recycle me," he said.

  ~There's a way out of this, Tankred. Just find me a new processor and power core, then I'll be out of your life. I'll erase my passage and you'll never hear from me again.

  Tankred thought about it for a moment and shook his head. "Assuming I agree -- and I don't -- it won't be easy. I don't have access to restricted components. You need an officer to sign off on it, and that means going through Ensign Davies. He'll say no before I even open my mouth."

  ~He doesn't like you, I take it.

  "He'd shove me out the airlock if it wouldn't affect his efficiency report."

  ~Are there no other humans we could ask?

  "If I were a fullspec, maybe. Clonestock have to go through the liaison officer unless it's an emergency."

  ~What if we just bypassed all that?

  "What do you mean?"

  ~Well, why not download me into one of the bot frames aboard ship?

  "They don't let me download full eidolons into cores, only partial files. The ship does all the major downloads."

  ~Then I'll just slip into the system and do the downloading myself.

  "That's the dumbest idea ever! Mona Lisa is going to notice you running around, won't it?"

  ~I'll just have to be extra careful. Trust me, this plan will work.

  "I don't know..."

  ~Of the two of us, which one is the AI?

  "You are."

  ~Well there's your answer, Tankred.

  Awe is a weird emotion. It can fill us with joy, love, fear, and confusion, sometimes all at once. Now that Tankred's had a chance to process his discovery, it looks like he has some regrets. Do we think he's a guy who goes with his gut, or his head?