I was the first prototype in the new series of autonomous rescue helicopters, and maybe that's why I came out so-well-weird, not to use another, harsher word. I guess it's not just with helicopters that this happens, but with almost anything when they do something special. I was equipped with everything, so that I could impress the approval committee and sign the contract with the State without any problems. My brain was great, said Tom, the technician who fitted it to me and insisted on calling it that, even though everyone else said it was a common, ordinary type of artificial intelligence. "It's a brain all right, dude," he told me. While he was adjusting it, he left the mic on and was always talking to me. From him I learned most things, because how else would I know so much about everyday life and politics and the maneuvering that went on behind the scenes? I was just a tabula rasa - an unwritten slate, and without him I would have remained so. But while I was doing the tests, he was always explaining something to me, always marveling at the specifications he found in me.
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