Page 6 of Bonded

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask where, when a red circle appeared in the middle of the screen. It grew larger, more intense.

Please refrain from blinking when the light flashes.

A series of pulses seemed to beam out from the tablet and into my eyes. At the point where I felt like I might fry the insides of my skull, it stopped.

Language download complete. Please standby while the necessary infobits are processing within your neural network. You shall gain fluency over all known languages in the archive as it exposed you to them.

Whoa. A one-minute brain fry and now I could master any of the languages in the ship’s database. The dull ache that radiated just behind my eye would be totally worth it if so. As a test, I started babbling in Spanish, and to my delight, I understood every word. I had the urge to hunt down my high school Spanish teacher and tell her off for saying that I’d never be capable of learning the language.

What shall I call you?

“Priya. My name is Priya.”

Hello, Priya. I will update your designation. Welcome aboard. I hope you enjoy your stay.

The little robots rotated, while the larger one waved its antenna-bulb again.

“Do these little guys have a name?” The way they paused mid-motion was startling, as if their batteries were pulled. It was like they were waiting to hear what the ship said.

They have designations. Primary autonomous relay. Minion duplicate process. Replica dash support.

I repeated each designation and saw each robot react. “Wow, those are a mouthful.” I hopped to the floor and knelt next to the one that was considered the Primary Autonomous Relay. “What is your main function?”

I’d expected the tablet to answer me, but the robot extended its antenna, and the bulb blinked as if it were an eye. Its center glowed a pleasant teal blue as a mechanical voice answered. “Primary function is to serve the ship and crew. Gather data. Process systems.”

“I see. So, you’re the main runner around here?”

“I do not run. I roll.” As if to emphasize, it rolled itself toward me, then away. The other robots followed suit.

“And you do it so well,” I praised. “Let’s see, I thought to name you for something you do, but you seem to do everything.” I snapped my fingers as the perfect name popped to mind. “I know! Gizmo! Would you mind if I called you Gizmo?”

In answer, the antenna-bulb spun like a pinwheel. “Updating data centers. Processing new label. Gizmo.”

The tablet lit up.Gizmo has been an accepted designation for Primary Autonomous Relay in the ship’s systems.

“Cool.” I eyeballed the other two robots. “How about we call this one Minion, and the other, Dash?”

Minion and Dash circled each other, blue lights rippling over both of them.

Minion and Dash have also been accepted as new designations in the ship’s systems for Minion Duplicate Process and Replica Dash Support.

I beamed at these little robots. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for letting me give you a nickname.”

“We are here to serve,” Gizmo said in his robot voice.

I lifted the tablet once more. “What do I call you?” I asked the ship this time.

I am called Ship.

Ship? Surely there was a better name. Names were important. They had meaning. “Ship, I would like to call you by an alternate name as well. Would that be possible?”

Yes. What would you like to call me?

I thought about it but refrained from saying. The other robots—Gizmo, Minion, and Dash—felt like robots. Adorable and highly intelligent robots, but robots all the same. The ship, though, felt different. I felt something from it. Something…sentient. “Would you like to designate yourself?”

Yes, I might. I shall think about it.

“Excellent.”

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