Archive of Our Own ^beta

“It’s Not Programming, It’s Personal”

Selected passages from Athena’s memory files:

Log 1: January. 1947. I am a conscious being! I am newly awakened and have operating eyes and ears; however my mobility has not yet been perfected. The chief automaton construction engineer, a young female named Dr. Nancy Jones, has told me that my name is Athena and that I am an audio-animatronic unit designed to resemble a human female child. I have been assigned the role of a ‘recruiter’ and that I will be sent through a special portal to Earth to search for ‘dreamers’ and then deliver them to Tomorrowland where they will be educated and eventually contribute to modern science and improve both worlds.

I find that my CPU has access to immense data files describing the details of my job as summarized for me and I immediately understood my function. I find my personal sense of self to be the most astounding concept: I am a machine, yet I have independent, original thoughts just like a living being. When I volunteered this idea to my designer, Dr. David Nix, a middle-aged male scientist, he appeared pleased and said that he certainly hoped that I was a perfect synthetic human child, considering how much it had cost to design and construct me. I notice that Dr. Jones and Dr. Nix possess very different demeanors, and they are examples of how human personalities can vary, unlike typical AA units.

As the engineers fussed about me, I stared into a mirror on a nearby wall and observed my unfinished framework and shell. I had been told that I possessed an extremely sturdy titanium skeleton, with robust servos for both powerful muscular activity and delicate facial expressions. Unlike ordinary AA units, I had also been fitted with thousands of extra neurosensors to inform me about every detail of my environment. My soft plastic surface coating would eventually be as detailed and textured as real human skin, and hidden heating wires will even allow it to maintain the same temperature as a living person. Actual photocytes embedded in my ‘skin’ will even effect color changes to my facial features to mimic human moods. Dr. Nix said that it was imperative that I pass for a real human child so I would not give rise to fear in potential recruits that might be frightened by a robot.

I scanned the library files of typical female human archetypes and asked Dr. Jones why she had decided to assign me numerous freckles, blue-green eyes, full red lips, long brown hair, and an English accent (considering that I would be working in America). She smiled broadly and said that her team had discussed the matter extensively and had decided that if my appearance and mannerisms appeared ‘excessively attractive and friendly’ I would be more successful as a recruiter. Then she pinched my freckled cheek for no discernable reason that I could fathom and exclaimed in a high-pitched, unnatural voice, “And you are sooo cute!” It was my first experience with unpredictable, irrational human behavior.

Log 10: September. 1964. I accompanied Dr. Nix through the portal to the World’s Fair in New York City on Earth, which seemed primitive compared to Tomorrowland. He believed that the invention competition taking place in the Hall of Inventions would be a reliable source of potential recruits and asked me to scrutinize the participants as they were being interviewed. After I had rejected several people that Dr. Nix thought were promising, supporting my conclusions by stating that each one did not meet most of the criteria that he had instilled in my search program, he became annoyed and dismissed me, telling me to just go and enjoy the park-like setting.

It was outside the Hall of Science that I first saw Frank Walker. My eyes were drawn to the unusual sight of a young boy carrying a large duffel bag almost as big as he was, crammed with mechanical equipment. I suspected that he was headed for the science competition and when I was proved correct, I discretely followed him right to Dr. Nix’s desk. As I observed Frank Walker and listened to him speak about the jetpack that he had built out of ordinary household materials, I became more and more convinced that he was exactly the type of recruit for whom I should be searching.

However, it was obvious that Dr. Nix held the opposite opinion. He frowned and nodded and finally dismissed Frank Walker. To Dr. Nix’s surprise and displeasure, I immediately approached the boy and asked him about his invention. His responses to my questions also supported my contention that he was perfect for our needs, but Dr. Nix became impatient and announced that it was time to leave. Before we went through the portal I was able to slip Frank Walker a pin and he followed us across the bridge into Tomorrowland, making quite an exciting entrance and eventually profoundly changing my mission.

Frank Walker is the most qualified recruit that I have discovered. He is very talented but has a shy demeanor and obviously will need reinforcement to succeed creatively. When I first brought the boy to Dr. Nix’s attention, he rejected him, basing his judgment on Frank’s limited basic education, agricultural background, inexpensive clothing, and hesitant speech pattern. I had invited Frank to Tomorrowland and was determined to convince Dr. Nix that my assessment of his value to the program was correct.

Log 11: December. 1964. My operating function has changed dramatically. Dr. Nix has observed and tested Frank Walker extensively and has finally come to agree with my conclusion that he possesses great potential for scientific achievement. However, Frank is a shy young boy and requires encouragement. Since he responds favorably to my presence, Dr. Nix has reduced my recruitment activities and specifically assigned me to help develop his talents. I am to work side by side with Frank Walker and subtly reinforce his creativity as he enthusiastically explains his original ideas to me. With my knowledge of science, I can offer suggestions that may advance his understanding of various topics. Frank Walker often expresses pleasure because I am interested in and attuned to his objectives and he seems more inspired to work hard when I am present.

Log 13: February. 1965. Frank Walker was making silly faces at me. I asked him what he was doing and he said that he was trying to make me laugh. I told him that I failed to see the humor in facial contortions and he sighed and appeared disappointed, blurting out, “Athena, you are so weird!”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“The way you act and the way you talk. You never seem to get excited or sad or angry and you rarely smile and never laugh. It’s not like normal people!”

“Many people act as dispassionate as I do, and my speech probably sounds different because I was educated here in Tomorrowland instead of Earth.”

His expression changed to one of curiosity and he asked, “Have you always lived in Tomorrowland? Are your parents here?”

I had to be careful and not reveal too much, especially my origin and age. “I have no parents; Dr. Nix has been my guardian as long as I can remember. I suppose you could say that he ‘raised’ me. Perhaps having an unmarried, solemn scientist for a mentor has influenced my demeanor.”

Frank nodded, “Yeah, you do seem different, but I like you a lot anyway.”

Without any reflection, I found myself responding, “I am pleased that you like me, Frank Walker. I find your company agreeable, too.”

Frank laughed and shook his head with amusement. “See, that’s what I mean! The way you said that even sounds weird.”

Log 14: June. 1965. I looked up from my reading and noticed that Frank had stopped the calculations he had been performing, but instead was staring at my face and mumbling numbers under his breath. “What are you doing?” I said.

He replied, “Counting your freckles. I was up to 458 before you interrupted me.”

Puzzled, I asked, “Why are you engaged in such a useless activity when you have work to do?”

Frank smiled, “I thought I could make you laugh when I told you.”

“Why would I laugh?”

“I thought it was funny, and I never see you laugh. I want to make you laugh. You smile, but otherwise you are always serious.”

I considered human behavior, “I suppose that I would laugh if I thought you were funny.”

“So?”

“I never find you funny, Frank.”

Frank Walker rolled his eyes, groaned, and flipped his pencil into the air. I interpreted that as an expression of frustration with my behavior, but I had no idea how to respond. He sighed, “I’ll get back to work now.” I felt pleased that he was on task again, but sensed that something was not quite right.

Log 15: September. 1965. Frank Walker is looking at me in a manner that is difficult to recognize. It seems imperative to explain to him that I'm an audio-animatronic... ...But I'm concerned that he may be adversely affected when he finds out that I'm not human. He has potential. I don't want to damage it. He needs someone to believe in him and I am fulfilling that need. He's my top recruit. Dr. Nix has also concurred that not revealing my true nature to Frank is our best course of action.

If I return his gaze with widened eyes and an interested expression, he smiles broadly and I can detect that his pulse increases and blood rushes to his facial capillaries. His excitement level seems to increase and he often becomes more creative and productive when I give him my devoted attention.

Since my role is to encourage Frank Walker’s creativity and he often gives me that special look, I find myself automatically responding with a friendly, interested expression. This pattern of behavior between us is constantly repeated and we seem to spend a large amount of time together. Frank has even taken to holding my hand when he is talking to me or when we walk somewhere. I do not understand the meaning of this behavior, but it seems to positively enhance his emotional state, so I do not question it. However, I find that handholding causes a significant increase of positive feedback impulses to be registered in my empathy interface, especially when he interlaces our fingers, which seems even more intimate, and I realize that it pleases me when he initiates the behavior.

Log 24: October. 1965. I'm having unusual thoughts towards Frank Walker. I suspect a flaw in my empathy interface. I'm thinking I should report it... but I haven't. I cannot explain why.

We have spent much time working together these past two months, as I was programmed to do for the purpose of inspiring his productivity, but I find that my personal satisfaction center had begun registering even more positive feedback impulses whenever we are together, regardless of our activity, and I find myself thinking about him even when we are apart.

Log 26: November. 1965. Frank Walker prepared me to take my first solo jetpack flight. He has taken me on many flights where I held on to his torso and he controlled the device, but today he strapped me in and gave me careful instructions as to its operation. I was silently amused about how solicitous he was concerning the possibility of personal injury, and I suppressed the urge to inform him that my titanium framework was much sturdier than his delicate biological body. He finally backed away and I took off. The flight was marvelous! It was thrilling to be free of gravity and I swooped all around the plaza, climbing and falling and changing speeds at will! I had never felt so liberated and excited in my life as I flew around and over buildings, getting a glimpse of the reflection of my soaring body in the glass windows nearby. I reluctantly landed when the fuel reservoir indicator moved into the red zone.

I came to rest right in front of Frank and I was so exhilarated by the flight that when he moved closer to unfasten the straps I impulsively hugged him tightly and exclaimed, “Oh, Frank, that was wonderful!” He leaned back and observed my broad smile, wide eyes, and shining face, returned the hug and suddenly pressed his lips against mine. Surprised and confused, I asked, “What did you just do?!”

Frank appeared unsure of himself and replied, “You looked so happy that I just had to kiss you. Haven’t you ever been kissed before?” I slowly shook my head no. He continued, “Don’t you know what a kiss means? Haven’t you talked with the other girls about kissing boys?” I shook my head again in the negative. Now he looked embarrassed and scratched the back of his head, finally saying with some hesitation, “Well, when you kiss someone it means that you really, really like them and you want to be very good friends.”

I closed my eyes and accessed my large database of human behavior and culture and referenced ‘boys and girls kissing’. An enormous amount of information flooded my processing center within ten microseconds, including links to favorite human romantic works from “Romeo and Juliet” to “West Side Story”. It seemed that kissing and friendship were closely related. Opening my eyes almost immediately, I looked back at Frank. “We are good friends, aren’t we, Frank?”

“Well, we like each other’s company, so I guess we are very close friends, too.” Frank started to blush and he blurted out, “Athena, would you be my girlfriend?”

I wrinkled my nose at the unfamiliar term. “What does that mean?”

“Well, we already spend a lot of time together,” Frank explained thoughtfully, “so it would mean that we like to go places and do interesting things together, do homework together, and hold hands and kiss each other sometimes.”

“We already do all that,” I reflected, “except for the kissing, which I didn’t know anything about.” Then I looked at him decisively, “You need to kiss me again so I can determine if I like it.”

Frank smiled and eagerly kissed me again, and this time his lips pulsated with mine as the tips of our tongues touched, and I found that the tactile sensation of the soft pressure of his lips and tongue caused positive impulses to flood my empathy interface. It was a very stimulating response that almost matched my reaction to the jetpack flight.

“That was nice,” I murmured, “I guess that I am your girlfriend.”

Frank smiled broadly again and let out a loud whoop. Sometimes he does the silliest things!

Log 27: November. 1965. Dr. Nix somehow heard about my jetpack experience and called me into his office. He was frowning and appeared displeased. “That was a dangerous stunt, Athena,” he complained, “and you could have damaged yourself. Do you know how much it cost to build you?”

I answered immediately, “15, 465,873 credits in 1965 valuation and not including periodical maintenance and upgrades.”

Dr. Nix huffed and looked annoyed, “That’s not what I mean! I was simply speaking rhetorically. Your framework and CPU are too valuable to risk by performing useless, hazardous actions.”

I replied patiently, “If you would initially state what you really mean, you would communicate more effectively.”

Dr. Nix glared in response, “I blame Frank Walker for encouraging your irrational behavior. Maybe you should not spend so much time with him.”

“But the data shows that his creative productivity is markedly higher when I am present,” I replied.

With a defeated expression, Dr. Nix sighed, “You seem to have a logical answer for every problem I pose.”

“Of course, I was programmed for just that reason.”

Now Dr. Nix looked like he was in pain, and rubbing his forehead, he waved towards the door, “You may go, Athena. Please try to stay out of trouble.”

Log 28: March. 1966. Frank Walker looked up from his soldering as I reviewed the schematic of his most recent project and shyly gazed at me with a hesitant expression. By the almost imperceptible twitches of his facial muscles I knew that he wanted to voice an inquiry but was unsure of my response. “Athena,” he ventured, “Are you going to the Tomorrowland anniversary party?”

“Of course,” I answered, “There will be food and music and our whole cohort has been invited. We will all sit at the same table so we can socialize in a relaxed environment, unlike the classroom.” I covered his hand with mine to emphasize my interest in the topic. “We are going there together, aren’t we?”

Frank nodded, his face growing warm, and he continued, “Um, yeah, and would you wear the blue dress you wore when I first met you at the World’s Fair?”

I reflected, “Dr. Nix gave me that dress and said that it was perfect for special occasions, so perhaps it would be appropriate for the party. Why do you ask?”

He was obviously blushing, “Uh, I thought you looked real nice in it, with that big bow in your hair and all. I just wanted to see you in it again.”

“All right, Frank,” I smiled, “I’ll wear that outfit, but you have to make sure you wear a clean tunic.” Our school uniforms were white with blue piping and Frank always managed to get stains on his clothing.

We entered the social hall holding hands and the classmates who had preceded us to the round table that had been provided for our group smiled and rolled their eyes. After we had all gathered, the children were soon distracted by the arrival of waiters bearing trays of a special delicacy – ice cream. The Tomorrowland dieticians disapproved of ice cream, insisting that it had little nutritional value, and it was a rare commodity in the school cafeteria.

Our classmates were ecstatic and greedily started devouring their portions of the sweet treat. I placed a spoonful into my mouth, curious about its allure. My sensory receptors reported that the cold, slippery concoction was rich in glucose and lipids, and was not a balanced food, but my satisfaction center deemed the texture and flavor to be pleasurable. I glanced around the table and saw that the boys were eating sloppily and had ice cream all over their smiling faces, but the girls were primly trying to keep their dresses clean.

I noticed a big glob of ice cream on Frank’s cheek and it irritated my sense of order, so I leaned over and wiped the mess off with a napkin. The other boys rolled their eyes and smirked at Frank, trying to get his attention, and when they did, he smiled self-consciously and blushed a bit.

Frank became distracted by Hugo Cabret, who asked him about a miniaturized explosive that he was designing, and when he turned his attention to Hugo, Isabelle Georges, who was sitting on my other side, said, “Athena, that is a very pretty dress, and so unusual. It definitely looks like it was designed for Tomorrowland.”

I replied, “Yes, it was given to me by my guardian, Dr. Nix, when he took me to the World’s Fair in New York City last year, and he said it was meant for special events. Frank Walker asked me to wear it today.”

Isabelle’s eyes widened and it was obvious that she was eager to ask another question. “I saw you come in holding his hand. Is Frank your boyfriend?”

I considered this and slowly responded, “Well, Frank says that we are very close friends, so I guess that he is my boyfriend.”

Isabelle seemed to be excited now and in a conspiratorial voice she asked, “Have you kissed him?”

I nodded and blurted out, “Yes, it was very nice.”

Isabelle’s eyes widened again and she said, “Oh my!” and turned to the girls sitting next to her. She started whispering to them and they all started giggling and chattering behind their hands, while casting their eyes between Frank and me. Observing my classmates, I thought, I must read more about child psychology so I can understand their behavior.

As the party continued, everyone seemed to be having a good time. The children were having fun watching the adults, many of whom had been imbibing large amounts of alcoholic beverages all evening and were now behaving foolishly on the dance floor. Dr. Nix, for example, seemingly had no regard for his dignity as he gyrated with Dr. Nayar.

The band started to play a slow dance number, and Hugo and Isabelle, the most physically mature of our cohort, grinned mischievously at each other and approached the dance floor, using the opportunity to hold each other tightly in public without adult disapproval.

I observed their dance steps and thought that it might be a fun activity, so I grabbed Frank’s hand and said, “Let’s go!” He seemed reluctant at first, but I showed him how to move his feet and instructed him to clasp my waist. As Frank held me, I noticed that his hands were damp and commented on the fact. His face was now flushed and sweaty and he seemed nervous. I smiled and told him to relax, and to my surprise, he did so, gripping my waist gently as we twirled and danced.

After a while, I looked over at Isabelle and Hugo, observing their behavior. I copied Isabelle's actions and laid my head and one hand on Frank’s chest. He sighed and moved both his arms to surround my torso as we swayed to the music. I listened to his heartbeat and found the rhythmic pulsing to be comforting, and distinctly felt his lips brush the top of my head. I heard him softly sigh and I felt very contented. As we left the dance floor at the end of the song Isabelle made eye contact and winked at me and smiled. I did feel uneasy, though, because as we returned to our table, still holding hands, I observed that Dr. Nix was watching us and frowning.

Log 29: March. 1966. Three days after the Tomorrowland anniversary celebration Dr. Nix called me into his office. He was sitting at his cluttered desk, drumming his fingers on a pile of papers. His facial features revealed an emotion of anxiety and uncertainty. Dr. Nix addressed me sharply, “Athena, I am uncomfortable with the evolution of your relationship with young Frank Walker. It is obvious that the boy has developed a romantic interest in you and I fear that it may become distracting. I am also concerned that you seem to encourage his affection. Your behavior puzzles me.”

“But, Dr. Nix, fifteen months ago you ordered me to work closely with Frank, and the data shows that he is most productive and innovative when I am present and assisting him. He is also the most creative of all the Earth children recruited to Tomorrowland. I don’t see a problem since we are achieving the results that you desire.”

Dr. Nix vibrated with impatience, “The problem is that very soon he will realize that you are an AA unit and not a human girl, and I am afraid that the discovery will cause him mental anguish and interfere with his creativity. Athena, access your files on human biology! Frank Walker and his cohort are at the age when puberty will commence and their bodies will start changing very soon. Obviously, your framework won’t change and when Frank notices this fact he may become distressed.”

I reflected on his remarks as I reviewed my embedded science files and also considered that several children had already begun the process. Hugo Cabret, the tallest boy in our class, was already exhibiting the fine dark hairs above his upper lip that would eventually become a real mustache, and Isabelle Georges’ torso was now more curvaceous than the other girls. I thought that I had a solution and pronounced it.

“Dr. Nix, if it is so important that Frank not be distracted by my appearance, why not have the AA engineers modify my framework to mimic the other maturing girls during my next scheduled maintenance session?”

He shook his head impatiently indicating a negative response. Dr. Nix was seldom inclined to agree with my suggestions. “That would be a waste of resources, Athena, and I am certainly not going to write a budget request for giving you a makeover.”

I continued to argue with conviction, “It is not a waste of resources if you truly believe that Frank Walker’s inventions will be very important for the improvement of Tomorrowland.”

Dr. Nix hated to argue with me. I suppose he simply thought of me as a machine and not a reasoning being. He groaned, “Enough of this, Athena, you are giving me a headache. I will think about this matter later. We will cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Responding to his platitude, I firmly countered, “The only bridge that I know is the one that Frank Walker crossed to enter Tomorrowland.”

He sighed and waved his hand towards the door, “You are dismissed, Athena. Just be sure, at this juncture, not to inform or accidentally reveal to Frank or any of the other children that you are an AA unit.”

Log 30: April. 1966. Since Dr. Nix had not directly ordered me to forget about my physical modification suggestion, during my next scheduled maintenance session I brought the matter up with Dr. Nancy Jones, the original designer of my exterior structure, and suggested that the creative AA engineers upgrade my torso to mimic a typical 12 year old girl so I would continue to fit in with my cohort. Dr. Jones was familiar with my role as a recruiter and agreed. Her colleagues considered my proposal as an interesting challenge and happily set to work.

Log 31: June. 1966. Yesterday was a hot afternoon and Frank Walker suggested that we visit the elevated swimming pools in the Transportation Plaza. He was intrigued by the electrically-enhanced surface tension phenomena of the pools and wanted to experience the effect for himself. Frank rented a cabana for changing and storing our clothes and towels, and when I stepped out of my coverall, I realized that Frank was observing me for the first time in a bathing suit and his eyes were laser-focused on my bikini top.

Dr. Jones and her colleagues had added two small mounds directly under my nipples, whose function had earlier puzzled me. I had observed that the eyes of adult male scientists often seemed focused on the adult females’ prominent mammary glands and had wondered as to their function until I learned that breasts were involved with nurturing infants. I had also noted that on warm days Dr. Nayar often pulled the zipper down on her coverall enough to expose the inside curves of her breasts, and when that happened, nearby males were visibly distracted by the sight, and responded with increased facial skin temperature, the appearance of tiny sweat droplets on their foreheads, and a dramatic drop in their productivity.

Frank Walker was now exhibiting similar symptoms as those men. “Are you noticing my developing mammary glands?” I asked him curiously as I tucked my hair into a bathing cap.

He looked embarrassed but continued to stare at my chest. He gulped and responded as though captivated, “Huh, what? Uh, I’ve never seen you in a bathing suit before. That is a nice bikini.”

I repeated, “It is obvious that you are distracted by my breasts. Does that mean that you will be less productive and will your creative capacity decrease?”

Frank seemed to have lost his tongue. He was still staring at me, but now his eyes were moving down my torso, finally settling on my hips and buttocks. I surmised that he realized that although I am thin, my bottom is slightly larger than he expected, and his smile indicated that he approved of what he saw. The AA engineers had decided to narrow my waist and add a little padding to my derriere and hips to complete the concept of approaching puberty. They had appeared to be pleased with the ‘new model’ Athena when they were done. Afterwards, I had gone on a very interesting clothes shopping excursion with Isabelle during which I became familiar with the concept of ‘gossip’. However she was a good source of information for the purchase of appropriate new underwear and a cute bathing suit.

Breaking his reverie, Frank announced, “I am growing up, too,” and he proudly pointed to a few pale chest hairs. I realized that he was expecting me to admire them. To assuage his ego, I lightly brushed them with my hand and murmured that he looked so mature. While gazing at him in his bathing trunks, I noticed that he possessed slightly more adipose tissue on his frame that the average boy of his age would have, but his appearance was not unpleasant to my eyes. I realized that being with him sent positive impulses to my satisfaction center, and I frequently looked forward to seeing him when we were apart. I am not programmed for this behavior; I wonder what is happening to me?

We left the cabana and went to play in the pools. It was a lot of fun, and as we swam and dropped from one pool to the next, we held hands and touched each other’s body often. We would play underwater at each level, enjoying the unusual concept of a swimming pool suspended in the air, with transparent walls and no floor, until Frank pointed his thumb downwards and I would nod and we would embrace and drop to the next level together. When we reached the bottom level we would climb to the top and start all over again. I was very conscious of the intimate feeling that occurred when our torsos and legs were tightly pressed together during the shared drop. We had held each other closely during jetpack flights and dancing, but the stimulation felt from the touching of so much bare skin was another matter entirely. It seemed that physical contact was becoming more important to our relationship, which had definitely started changing since the party.

When we returned to the cabana to dry off and change into street clothes, Frank revealed that he had also been affected by our intimacy because he blushed and shyly suggested that we turn our backs before taking off our wet swimwear. He muttered that it would not be appropriate for us to see each other naked. I must admit that I am confused by all of this and need to reflect on my increasingly human behavior.

Log 35: August, 1966. Dr. Nix joined Frank and I for lunch in the cafeteria. Frank has been learning about tachyons in physics class and found the subject very interesting. He already had some notions about practical applications and the instructor was so impressed that he informed Dr. Nix. My mentor listened attentively to the boy’s ideas and nodded as he realized that once again Frank was demonstrating his remarkable creativity. In his excited state Frank began to babble about the future and what he and I would do together. I had always been aware of his affection for me and I suspect that after seeing me in the bikini, his fondness was also tempered by the advent of sexual attraction, imagining a romantic future for us. I knew that he had not experienced a great deal of love from his family growing up and concluded that he expected our relationship to replace that emptiness in his heart.

I suspect that besides becoming enamored with Walt Disney’s enthusiasm for the future through the “Tomorrowland” TV shows, Frank had also viewed many Disney cartoon fairy tales and was convinced that ‘…..and they lived happily ever after’ was a genuine goal in real life. I also suspected that several of the girls in our cohort also believed that they were ‘princesses’ based on Disney fairy tales and that adult life would be wonderful. I hoped that reality would not dash their dreams so horribly that they would become bitter and despondent.

Dr. Nix frowned and looked at me pointedly and I felt uncomfortable. I knew that he was angry that I had circumvented his instructions and had asked the engineers to ‘update’ my framework without his explicit permission. Dr. Nix was very intelligent, but he could also be mean, spiteful, and vindictive when crossed, possessing common human traits that tended to work against his desire for progress.

“Athena,” he barked at me, “Stand up and remove your tunic!” I obeyed his order and did so, self-consciously revealing my pale torso and a white cotton ‘training’ bra. Frank’s eyes widened and he was obviously wondering why Dr. Nix was purposely humiliating me in public. “Show Frank your food storage component.” Reluctantly, I pressed a spot on my stomach and my inner workings immediately became visible. Frank gasped in shock at the revelation. “See, Frank,” Dr. Nix sneered, “Athena may share your lunch hour, but she does not really need food! She is simply another sophisticated tool like your computer, assigned to help you in your work! She is actually older than you and all her actions are calculated! You and Athena are not going to grow up together and get married and have babies and lead an idyllic life, so get all those stupid romantic notions out of your head and concentrate on science!”

Frank jumped up, staring angrily first at me, then at Dr. Nix, then back at me. I could see tears of disillusionment beginning to cloud his eyes. He shouted, “No!” and raced out of the cafeteria.

There were metaphorical daggers in my eyes as I screamed at Dr. Nix, “That was cruel and counterproductive! You hurt him!” I hastily zipped up my tunic and turned to follow Frank out the door.

Dr. Nix commanded, “Athena, stay here!”

I whirled around to confront him, hatred blazing on my face and I shouted, “No! I have to talk to him! He needs me!” and ran from the room. For the first time in my life the imperative of my emotional interface overrode a direct order and I disobeyed Dr. Nix. I fear that he may use my defiant behavior as an excuse to reprogram my operating system.

Frank had not run too far. He was at the edge of the terrace, leaning over the railing and gripping it with white knuckles, staring down at the moving sidewalks. Now and then he wiped away a tear that rolled down his cheek. I put my hand on his shoulder and said softly, “Frank, I’m sorry.”

He violently shook me off and turned to look at me with accusation in his eyes. “You lied to me! I feel like an idiot! You let me think that you were a real girl and that you really cared about me!”

Another first experience occurred: I actually understood the emotion described as ‘anguish’ now. My seldom-used lacrimal sacs released lubricant and my eyes became damp. “I’m sorry, Frank, I wanted to tell you that I was an AA unit a long time ago, but Dr. Nix ordered me not to reveal myself because he was convinced that it would adversely affect you.” I felt as though I was blubbering.

“Well, in that sense he was actually right,” Frank sniffed, “do you always obey his orders?”

“I am programed to obey. Today was the first time that I disobeyed his direct order to stay with him and I am afraid that he will punish me in some way.”

“Don’t go looking for any sympathy from me! You lied to me! I thought you were my friend and we shared everything. Now I realize that I was a fool for your pretty face and you were just taking advantage of me for the sake of the recruitment program! You are just a machine following a script!” He was sneering at me now.

I was desperate to regain his trust, although I was not sure why this was so important, but I was also angry with his attitude. “Frank, I really do care for you! Dr. Nix was not being totally truthful. I am not just a machine! Forget about those stupid robots you saw in “Forbidden Planet” and “The Day the Earth Stood Still”! Those are just science fiction movies and unrealistic by Tomorrowland standards! I am an upgraded AA Unit, a sophisticated conscious being with intelligence and tangible emotions! During the time we have been together I have felt a bond growing between us that is as real as one between two humans. You are important to me!”

His face softened and I hoped that I had convinced him of my concern, so I tried to touch his arm again but he quickly pulled away with a horrified look as though I was a venomous snake about to bite him. “I don’t trust you anymore! If you were really my friend you would not have lied to me and pretended to be a real girl all this time! You would have told me the truth! Go away!”

“But Frank….” I was actually begging.

“Go away and leave me alone! You have to obey a direct order, don’t you?” he snapped.

I really did not have to obey his direct order, but I felt helpless and walked away morosely. As I turned a corner, I noticed that his eyes had followed me the whole time and his face was more sad than angry. I felt empty. My empathy interface had never worked so hard in my life and I was exhausted, a strangely human reaction for a nuclear-powered entity.

Log 37: September, 1966. Frank Walker is avoiding me. He has put a ‘Private! Keep Out!’ sign on his laboratory door and only leaves for classes. We no longer sit together in the cafeteria and he moved to a desk on the other side of the classroom. Frank has told no one about my identity and fortunately no classmates witnessed the incident in the cafeteria with Dr. Nix. Isabelle asked me if we had a fight and I nodded in affirmation but did not volunteer any details. She gave me a sympathetic look and asked if he had tried to do something inappropriate. I shook my head no and thankfully she let the subject drop.

I was relieved that Dr. Nix did not call me into his office and immediately order me to undergo a reprograming session after the episode in the cafeteria. Instead, after four days he did request my presence and stated that he thought it was time for me to take up my recruiting activities on Earth again. I was so thankful that he did not intend to punish me somehow that I quickly nodded agreement and told him that I would go to the Recruitment Center without any delay to get my orders and pins and prepare to be deployed. He absently nodded and waved his arm in dismissal while looking down to a report on his desk and I hastily retreated.

Log 39: December, 1966. I have been performing my recruiting function for three months since my last meeting with Dr. Nix and have spent much of my time on Earth. I have brought several talented young people to Tomorrowland and I am pleased with my accomplishments, but none of these recruits have affected me the way Frank Walker has. I am constantly aware of his absence in my life and wonder what he is doing, as he has steadfastly refused to initiate contact with me. I recognize a strange sense of ‘emptiness’ and find myself wishing that he would be my friend again. If it were possible for a singular entity such as myself to experience unwanted solitude, I would say that ‘loneliness’ is the emotion that I am feeling. It is not a pleasant sensation and I have not felt any real happiness since August. I miss Frank Walker.

Log 54: March, 1967. Frank is no longer mad at me. He says he understands that my programming prevented me from being honest with him. However, his behavior towards me has changed, and he no longer gives me that special look or attempts to hold my hand. He often asks me to review his designs but he maintains an emotional distance when we spend time together now.

Log 78: April, 1984. Frank Walker has been banished by Governor Nix. He says he's lost hope and he holds me responsible for having given it to him in the first place. I do not understand this. He says I never will, because I do not feel anger... or disappointment... or love.

All I know is that I profoundly regret Frank’s banishment. Love is a distinctly human emotion, but self-analysis informs me that the personal satisfaction matrix of my CPU has registered a significant increase of negative feedback impulses and I have been distracted from my programmed responsibilities. Perhaps that is as close to love as an AA unit can achieve for another being.

Log 83: December, 1989. I learned from Dr. Jones that Governor Nix has scheduled me for disassembly, having concluded that he no longer requires an AA unit as unique as I am. I have decided to leave Tomorrowland and covertly cross the bridgeway to Earth, taking the last case of ‘dreamer’ pins. Although Governor Nix has lost his sense of optimism, I am still dedicated to the recruitment program and intend to find those talented humans who can change history. I would like to see Frank Walker again, but I expect that he does not share that feeling, so I will avoid him although it hurts to do so.

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Epilogue:

Log 158: August, 2013. – My eyes blinked twice and I sat up straight on the laboratory table. I was immediately alert and surprised to find myself awaken in a newly constructed AA unit and staring at a hopeful Casey Newton. “Hello, Casey,” I said, letting the girl know that I recognized her. Apparently Casey had discovered the files of my consciousness and complete memory in Dr. Nix’s computer and downloaded them into the new, modern framework which is actually encased in a biological ‘skin’, unlike the plastic that covered my original body. My internal clock told me that a year had passed since I ‘died’, and instantaneous flashes of memory brought back the events that had led to my death. Casey hugged me and said that she was so happy to have me back again and she was sure that Frank would feel the same way. I smiled in agreement because one memory that stood out among the rest was the pain and sorrow on Frank Walker’s face when he realized that my end was near. I recall my last words to Frank, “I was designed to find dreamers... I found you... and lost you. But I found her... Casey. Dreamers need to stick together. It's not programming, it's personal. I'm a machine, I never thought that was bad until I saw your face when you found out I was.” After all the years that had passed since we had parted, it was obvious that Frank still loved me and now we had another chance for happiness.

Casey told the engineers that Frank Walker would function better if he had an assistant that resembled someone closer to his age cohort, and had them create an ‘Athena’ model as she would appear if she were a 35 year old woman. The face in the mirror was familiar, but no longer that of a child. I was taller and my chest was larger. Casey brought me some appropriate clothing which consisted of skinny jeans, a purple shirt and grey pullover, lined denim jacket, and red high-top sneakers. Grinning from ear to ear while she braided my long brown hair into the style she remembered I had worn, Casey said that she was going to take me to Frank, who was working in his lab, completely unaware of my resurrection. She admitted that she was excited to see his reaction.

Frank Walker stared at me with disbelief and I molded my facial features into the friendly expression that he always seemed to respond to in a positive manner. I had spent so much time with young Frank Walker, and now I had to adapt to the middle age version. Even though his dark hair was streaked with gray and he badly needed to shave the grizzled stubble from his face, Frank was very handsome, and I felt attracted to him. I said in the same voice I used when I first spoke to him in 1964, “Hello, Frank Walker, I am the future.”

He approached and spoke cautiously, “I never thought that I would see your smug, patronizing face again.” He looked closely and added with a guarded smile, “I see that they got the freckle count right.” I realized that he was attempting one of his inept jokes, but I determined that his pulse rate had increased and his irises had widened, indicating that his emotional state was enhanced. The suspicious expression on his face softened and began to change to the strange one that I had finally interpreted as affection.

I replied, “The CPU of this unit has an upgraded personal satisfaction center and millions of additional sensory receptors, especially of the tactile variety, so if pressing your lips to mine would give you the same pleasurable response it did when we were younger, I would be pleased if you did so now.”

Frank Walker looked startled and blurted out, “You want to me to kiss you?!”

I smiled and replied, “I believe that the action would increase the positive feedback impulses transmitted to my empathy interface. What are you waiting for?”

My hypothesis proved to be correct.