![]() Her head was shaven completely bald and glistened with perspiration under harsh white recording lights that gave her lanternjawed face a cadaverous look. The presentation opened with a brilliant orange logo that displayed orange flames and crackling lightning that merged into the words "Holowan Laboratories-the Friendly Technology People." The logo dissolved into an image of a smiling but hideous ugly woman. Without outwardly moving, IG-88 scrolled through the file at high speed, absorbing the information. He selected one file for immediate perusal, a summary/PR tape that had been compiled for the technical sponsor-in particular, an Imperial Supervisor Gurdun who had apparently funneled a great deal of funds into the creation of IG-88 and his counterparts. It would take many seconds to learn everything there was to know about himself. He gulped it all into his empty circuits, gorging himself with information without digesting it That would come later. IG-88 immediately began a search, scouring at hyperspeed through file after file, searching for anything that referenced his model number or the code name of the assassin droid project. Why am I here? He traced sensations through his computer core and out the jack, which he now realized had already been connected to the lab's central computer-a treasure trove of information. Three seconds had already passed, and another important question surfaced in his burning-awake brain. He had to accomplish his mission.though, checking his newly initialized programming, he saw that he had not yet been given a mission. ![]() He had only to study his memory banks and his external sensors. IG-88's first round of questions had been answered. IG-88 was pleased with his list of capabilities. IG-88 recognized each droid's full complement of weapons: blaster cannons built into the structure of each arm, concussion grenades and a launcher attached to his hip, as well as other weapons not easily recognizable integrated into the body structure-poisonous gas canisters, throwing flechettes, stun pulser, paralysis cord.and a computer input port. Four other assassin droids, apparently identical to his own bodily configuration-a bulky structural skeleton, armored arms and legs, a torso plated with blaster-proof armor shielding, a cylindrical head that was rounded on top and studded with sensor nubs providing him with 360 degrees' worth of precise observation. Then IG-88 detected something that focused his entire attention. With Infrared scan he observed their body heat as bright silhouettes in the coldness of his birthplace. ![]() Struck motionless in a pinpoint of time as his extremely fast neural processors digested the details, IG-88 counted fifteen scientists/engineers/technicians working in the laboratory. IG-88 noted mechanical component strewn on silvery tables: gears and pulleys, durasteel struts, servomotors, an array of delicate microchips frozen into a slab of transparent protective gelatin. He had awakened in some sort of large laboratory complex, white and metal, sterile, and-according to his temperature sensors-colder than humans generally preferred. He froze a static image of his surroundings and studied it, collating more answers. IG-88 had no sense of smell, and no eyes and ears as humans understood them, but his optical and auditory sensors were far more efficient, able to absorb data in a broader range than any living being. Where am I? A microsecond later, images from his exterior sensors snapped into focus. He was IG-88, a droid, a sophisticated droid-an assassin droid. Who am I? His internal programming finished the tedious two-second-long initialization procedures and poured out an answer. Sensors awakened, producing a flood of data-and with it came questions. ![]() Electricity flooded through circuits, a power surge racing through a billion neural pathways. Therefore I Am: The Tale of IG-88 Internal chronometer activated. ![]()
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