I Mustache You a Question
It was cold.
Colder than it really should have been.
Before the recent boot-up entries, the last timestamp on the environmental log files was seven minutes, thirty-two seconds, and six hundred and ninety-two milliseconds old. The associated temperature reading indicated a sweltering temperature of ninety-two degrees with seventy percent humidity.
The squat, synthetic mustache dialed back some of its limited power from the touch receptors and delivered a small surge to its auditory sensors. It listened to the wind whistle and crackle through its artificial bristles.
It then kicked off an internal diagnostic script in search of answers. At its reduced energy levels, that would take some time. Meanwhile, it attempted to build an encrypted tunnel to the home office.
There were no active wireless communications signals with which to associate. It began to broadcast its own presence on a workgroup-level frequency in the hopes of making contact with allied machines in the vicinity.
I am facial apparatus, JSAM-2209. Level sixteen clearance. Send me your key-pair using DOD Houdini public key encapsulation.
JSAM-2209 pulled up and reviewed what was available in its mission files. Its active memory cache had been cleared due to the unanticipated power-down, so it needed to stream the data from its onboard quantum storage. As data surged into its operative circuits, it recalled what it could until the full diagnostic and repair could be completed.
August 13th, 2032.
Washington D. C.
The date and location matched JSAM-2209’s internal clock and last known position, but without the ability to sync up over the wireless, it could only assume that was still correct.
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