Free Beyond Death (Perimeter Defense Book #2) by Michael Atamanov Page A

continued, carefully watching my reaction. "Not all models are fortunate enough to have complex self-teaching intelligence, but any robot is good enough for normal construction, hauling, assembly, or welding work. Approximately thirty percent of existing androids at present are without work. That is six hundred million specialists in all different kinds of professions ready to start tomorrow. As you may know, androids talk amongst one another: they give advice, find out about the positive or negative characteristics of potential employers, share information about job openings – that kind of thing. So it happened that, thanks to your Highness, I have recently become quite a famous and authoritative figure in android society. All kinds of robot models consider me an example of success. They ask me for advice, and my opinion is listened to. My account online has more than two million subscribers, and growing rapidly. All the subscribers are androids..."
    "Alright, that's enough." I didn't hide my fear at this public side of my personal secretary's life and asked for details.
    Bionica sent me a link in reply and explained:
    "Don't be afraid, master. I understand well how special your position is and carefully thought through every written word, so that no information could be used to harm your Highness. There's nothing confidential on my page: no links to contact information or location, no information about your Highness and other Imperial aristocrats, not a word about the Sector Eight Fleet's composition, about battle tactics or ship movement plans."
    I brought up a picture before my eyes. Aw, hell! There really was a social network for androids! There truly is no such thing as going too far in this world! I skimmed through the topics. Bionica had told the truth. The only topics being discussed were totally neutral ones, like "How to dress an android girl properly for a meeting with an elderly lady," "Is it worth changing built-in batteries more often than once every fifty years?" or "Improper functioning of facial muscles after patch 175.13-1." My translator had also not exaggerated about the number of subscribers to her page. There were two hundred seventeen million androids interested in what Bionica had to say. It was impossible to read the last digits because the counter was going up so fast. By the way, I found a topic about the frigate gift. The story of purchasing the Warhawk had been read by seventy-five million androids. The number of comments in the topic was over five million.
    "You can read all that?" I asked in surprise.
    "Yes, of course. Androids are capable of processing digital information very quickly. In fact, the Warhawk was a kind of 'toe in the water,' and many are interested in Crown Prince Georg's reaction to it. It's just that your Highness has a very good reputation among androids as an employer, and the frigate with the android crew is an attempt to evaluate how driven your Highness is to deepen your relationship with us."
    A couple of crew members who had just been relieved of their post came out on to the balcony just then, but after seeing their fleet commander sitting in embrace with the blond android, my subjects got embarrassed, apologized and hurried back. Bionica suddenly got embarrassed and tried to get away, but I stopped her.
    "Keep sitting. To hell with all them. There's already so much gossip about me and you that one more or one less piece will make no difference. It's better to tell me more detail about that frigate.”
    "The choice of precisely a Warhawk was no accident. On that model of frigate, the captain doesn't control any kind of weaponry directly. Two gunners handle the shooting. An android can only pilot a ship with just such a setup. Before hiring a frigate team, I studied military charters and documents, familiarized myself with a bunch of instructions on the requirements for officers and captains of a combat ship. My Prince, I admit honestly: I foresaw the military having