Free Alliance by Timothy L. Cerepaka

first, let me introduce myself. My name is Konoa. And no,
you won't be able to find that name in your mobile Database files,
no matter how hard you look or whatever search terms you use,
because I technically do not exist.”
    Konoa says that with a calm voice,
although I can tell he is amused by his prediction of what I am
about to do. Because the truth is, I am going to run his name
through the mobile Database and see if I have any information on
him, but considering how all of the other Foundation agents I have
met so far are not in the Database, this does not surprise me,
either.
    Still, I find his remarks cryptic, so I
ask, “I do not understand. If you don't exist, how am I speaking
with you right now?”
    “ It's a figure of
speech, clicker,” says Rozan, before Konoa can answer. He gestures
at everyone sitting at the table. “ None of us exist. Of
course, you stupid robots don't understand things like metaphors
and similes, right? I see why the Xeeonites think you're so
advanced.”
    I do not debate Rozan's notion that
metaphorical speech is usually a primary weakness in us J bots. In
recent years, of course, we J bots have received upgrades to our
language recognition software to allow us to understand figures of
speech better, but we are still sometimes thrown off by them,
especially if they happen to be newly-created slang.
    But I can recognize sarcasm with no
trouble, and I hear the sarcasm in Rozan's voice quite well. I also
recognize the word 'clicker,' which is a derogatory word for
robots, although I am not offended by it because I lack the ability
to feel offended by anything.
    “ What it means, J997,”
says Konoa, who glares at Rozan briefly before returning his
attention to me, “is that when you join the Foundation, all traces
of your previous life are erased. Birth certificates are burned,
family ties are cut, names are changed, Database entries are
deleted … from society's point of view, we are an organization of
individuals who do not exist.”
    That explains why I am unable to find
files on any of these Foundation agents in the mobile Database, but
I find the last thing he mentions alarming. “Did you say that
Database entries are deleted? How so? Only authorized J bots and J
bot technicians are allowed to alter or delete any Database
entries, and even they have to fill out lengthy reports and papers
explaining in detail why they have to before the Database gives
them permission to do what they want.”
    “ That's one of those
things that we're not allowed to tell you,” says Konoa. He folds
his hands over the papers before him. “Now, why don't we change the
subject to the Foundation itself?”
    “ Yes, I would like to
know more about the Foundation,” I say. I gesture at the room,
which is actually my attempt to gesture at the whole building.
“What are you aims? Your origins? How many members do you have? And
who is your leader?”
    “ You asked pretty much
all of the questions we're not supposed to answer,” says
Rozan, rolling his eyes. “You might as well ask us to give you our
secret names, too.”
    “ As Rozan said, we
cannot answer any of those questions,” says Konoa. “What we can
tell you, however, is that the Foundation is an old organization
with origins that stretch back eons. And we are ultimately a force
for righteousness, so do not fear that we are up to
evil.”
    “ Conjecture,” I say.
“You have offered no proof to me that you Foundation agents have
noble intentions. Based on the way you have treated me, I suspect
you are up to no good.”
    “ Yeah,” says Rozan,
leaning back in his chair and propping his boots on the table, his
smile showing his dirty teeth. “Saving your hide from Jornan and
then repairing you and recharging your energy … what horrible
people we are. I see why you clickers are considered so
intelligent; that's the kind of master logic that only Waran-Una's
personal pupils ever display. You have blown me away with your
reasoning