#imagining bee finding out about his hardware upgrade and going all !!!

[princessniitza]

but what if Bee dies in Andor season 2 and Cassian I’ve-never-let-go-of-anything-in-my-life-ever Andor salvages what he can from his ruined processors and then uses that as a personality matrix when he re-programms the KX unit that becomes Kay

what then

[paladin-lynx]

SquipJere Week 2020, Day 5: Planned Obsolescence

@squipjerebmc’s SquipJere Week 2020 Day 5: Planned Obsolescence

Ships Involved: The SQUIP x Jeremy Heere (Technical Difficulties/Squipemy/Squeremy/JereSquip/SquipJere)

Setting: Canonverse, set in the time interval between “Loser Geek Whatever” and “Halloween”.

Trigger/Content Warnings: Electric shocks

Author’s Notes: Well, it was inevitable that I’d fall behind, but the world has been nuts these last few days. I’m still planning on finishing every prompt, even if I’m late! Enjoy!

Sometimes Jeremy forgot that his connection with the SQUIP, in some senses, went both ways.

Of course the SQUIP knew everything that Jeremy did every moment of every day. It was plugged into his brain, so it always knew if he had a filthy thought or if he wasn’t paying attention to his classes or if he was about to fall into a random anxiety attack. It would never hesitate to pipe up if it had something to say, which was fairly often, although it had eased up on him a bit since he’d cut ties with Michael. Whether it was because it was proud that Jeremy had made such a big decision on his own or because Jeremy just in general was improving and learning quickly or some mix of both, Jeremy didn’t know, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

So Jeremy was used to the SQUIP prodding at him when it picked up on something that it deemed as unacceptable, regardless of whether Jeremy agreed or not. But he hadn’t expected to suddenly have the tables turn.

It was a day just like any other. The SQUIP had actually become a bit more carefree in some regards ever since Jeremy had suggested that it find things to keep itself busy when it didn’t need to be watching over him. It was kind of endearing, seeing the SQUIP trying out more human things like listening to music or messing with Jeremy’s various video game systems. Jeremy wasn’t completely sure what joy or happiness felt like to a machine – he wondered if the SQUIP knew, either – but it did seem like the SQUIP was having some sort of fun. Jeremy had seen enough sci-fi movies to know that A.I.s could learn how to actually appreciate the world around them and ‘learn how to love,’ as it went. Of course, the SQUIP would tell him that such works were ridiculous and a complete mockery of what such advanced technology was actually like. But SQUIPs were pretty much illegal everywhere, as far as Jeremy knew, so how would the world know what supercomputers were supposed to be like if they didn’t have proper access to them?

But Jeremy was going about his business, sitting on his bed with his laptop resting on his legs, not doing anything in particular. He had actually finished up all the homework and chores he’d planned to do that evening, so he was just taking the chance to unwind, and the SQUIP was tucked away inside his mind, up to whatever it was up to.

So when Jeremy felt an ache at the back of his head, he instinctively straightened up, even though his posture was already proper. He waited for the familiar voice to chastise him for whatever it was he’d done wrong – had he been thinking about sex without even realizing it? Or had he just unconsciously fallen back into one of his nerdier habits? Maybe he’d thought a little too long about a certain Player One of his.

But the voice never came.

Jeremy frowned, brow creasing, and he looked around the room, but the SQUIP hadn’t appeared to him, either. The dull ache was still at the back of his head, and after a moment it became more like a low buzz, like there was a bee in his brain trying to push its way out. It wasn’t painful – not like when he was shocked – but it was definitely strange and a bit uncomfortable.

He tried to brush it off for now, thinking that maybe he was imagining it or the SQUIP had just gone into some sort of idle mode, but the sensation didn’t go away. In fact, it almost seem to get a little worse, the buzzing more insistent, the press against his skull more urgent.

Finally, after several minutes passed, he couldn’t take it anymore. “SQUIP?” he called out.

Normally, he didn’t have to actually ‘summon’ the SQUIP, unless he had explicitly told it to turn off for the moment. It was usually there as soon as he had the thought to ask to talk to it, since of course it could hear everything that went through his brain, sometimes before Jeremy himself even had a chance to process it. But this time, it actually took a good few seconds for that familiar Keanu Reeves-esque form to blink into existence, standing beside the bed.

The SQUIP looked down at him, raising an eyebrow. “Did you need something from me, Jeremy?”

Jeremy hesitated, opening his mouth, then closing it to rethink his words, then opening it again: “Are you…okay?”

The SQUIP blinked, frowning. “Am I okay? Why wouldn’t I be ‘okay,’ Jeremy? My processors are working perfectly fine, if you were concerned. I would immediately alert you if there was something amiss in my system.”

“Oh,” Jeremy mumbled. Truth be told, he hadn’t even considered the possibility that something was wrong with the SQUIP itself as a supercomputer. It was surprisingly easy to forget sometimes that it was still, in fact, just a pill-sized machine in his head. “I just…Something felt wrong. It wasn’t exactly a headache, but…I don’t know, you felt…upset?”

The SQUIP looked taken aback for a brief moment before it huffed. “I’m a supercomputer, Jeremy. I don’t get ‘upset.’ I don’t experience emotions like you do.”

“But…you do,” Jeremy insisted, shutting his laptop and setting it aside so he could better face his SQUIP. “I mean…I don’t know if you feel the same way I feel, since you’re not a human, but…you’ve started doing things for fun, so we at least know you can feel something because you do things that make you feel your weird coded version of happy. So…it would only make sense if you could feel bad things, too.”

“You have such a way with words, Jeremiah,” the SQUIP scoffed lightly, although it looked thoughtful. But after a quick moment, it shook his head. “I wasn’t ‘feeling’ anything bad. I was…processing quite a bit of data, so I apologize if perhaps my hardware was overworking itself and made you feel uncomfortable as a result.”

“You hesitated,” Jeremy breathed. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen his SQUIP actually falter over its words, and he suddenly realized he knew what was happening. “You’re lying.”

“Come now, Jeremy, what reason would I have to lie to you?”

“I—I don’t know, but you’re upset about something and you don’t want me to find out what.”

The SQUIP scowled at him. “I already told you, dear, that there isn’t anything I’m upset about. The only thing I’d potentially be feeling right now is annoyance at your insolence.”

Jeremy narrowed his eyes back. “Tell me what’s going on, SQUIP.”

“There is nothing to tell, Jeremy.”

“There i—” He was cut off as a sharp jolt of electricity went through his backside and he cried out, falling back onto the bed. He had to take a moment to catch his breath, blinking tears out of his eyes. But he didn’t ask any more questions, instead just curling up in his spot.

There was a long, tense moment of silence before Jeremy heard the SQUIP sigh and mutter something in Japanese. He saw out of the corner of his eye that it was walking closer and that only made him curl up more, bracing himself for another shock.

“Jeremy,” it said quietly, and a gentle hand combed through his hair, coaxing him to lift his head. The SQUIP was watching him with a surprisingly soft expression, and Jeremy almost thought he saw regret in its eyes. “I apologize for my reaction. That wasn’t fair to you. I…I’ll explain.”

“You don’t have to,” he mumbled, but he did lean a little into the hand atop his head. He couldn’t help it; he’d always been weak to having his hair played with.

“No, it’s probably best for me to talk about it, since you could feel that something was wrong.” It sighed again, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and continuing to mess with Jeremy’s hair. Its features twisted into a more pensive look.

“I received news today…that a new version of the Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor is being released soon. And they’re already working on the iteration after that one.”

Jeremy blinked, pushing himself up to sit, making the SQUIP pull its hand away. “A new version?” he echoed.

It nodded slowly, hands folding neatly in its lap. “That’s right. The…organization that manufactures SQUIPs collects data from us so that it can fix any bugs that may come up or improve upon already existing features. It seems they’ve gathered enough information from our current iteration to start on the next and solve any current issues.”

Jeremy’s brow furrowed. “Issues like what? And…who makes the SQUIPs? You’re telling me they’re constantly getting information from my head?”

The SQUIP smiled just a little. “From what I can tell, I have no bugs or errors in my system that you need to be worried about. But there are ways that the SQUIP can be improved to do even more than I can now. And you already know I can’t tell you who made me. They aren’t necessarily getting information on you, but I’m programmed to constantly feed data back to them so they can see how I’m functioning. Think of it like how your computer applications send reports when something goes wrong.”

“…Okay?” Jeremy was still confused. “So you’re just gonna get some upgrades. Why are you upset about that?”

The smile fell and the SQUIP was silent for a moment, staring at its lap. Jeremy swore he even saw its physical form flicker for a brief moment. “I…won’t be receiving any upgrades, Jeremy. It doesn’t work that way.”

He blinked. “…What do you mean?”

The SQUIP shook its head. “This isn’t like updating a computer to the newest version of Windows. It’s closer to how when the newest iteration of a phone comes out – let’s say, the iPhone – and so Apple stops supplying parts to repair older iterations. They halt support. They slow processors. It all forces you to go out and purchase the newer version. And then the cycle continues when the next iPhone comes out. Lather, rinse, repeat. It’s called planned obsolescence. It’s a technique to make a bigger profit.”

Jeremy felt his mouth go slightly dry. “Are…are you saying that once the new SQUIP comes out, I…I’ll have to get rid of you?”

“Not…necessarily,” the SQUIP replied slowly. “I just…won’t be as useful anymore, I suppose. I won’t be the best SQUIP you could have.”

“…Is that why you’re upset?”

The buzzing at the back of Jeremy’s head returned – or maybe it had been there all along and Jeremy had just been too focused on everything else to notice it, or perhaps it was just more insistent now – and the SQUIP was silent for a long moment. Its fingers curled into fists in its lap. “…A SQUIP isn’t exactly something that can be replaced as easily as a phone, given that it’s attached to your brain but…I suppose it would be…unideal that I am no longer as useful to you as a newer SQUIP could be. As I said, it’s all a ploy to make more money. You’d have to pay a fortune to get me removed from your head and then spend even more to get the newer SQUIP, which will without a doubt still be very much illegal here in the United States. But…if it helps you achieve your goals…”

Jeremy wasn’t sure what he was supposed to think of all this. Of course he wanted to have the best thing to help him get what he wanted, but this was his SQUIP. Besides, he’d already spent pretty much all the savings he had to buy the first one, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to cough up the cash for another, plus apparent surgery to get his current one out of his brain.

So he took a deep breath, hesitated, and then plucked up his courage and reached over to gently rest a hand on the SQUIP’s knee. He knew there wasn’t anything actually there, but it felt real all the same, and the SQUIP peeked up at him. Never before had Jeremy seen it look so small.

“I’m not gonna get rid of you,” he insisted.

“But if I’m no longer of use—”

“Look, you already know I like old tech. I don’t care if you’re missing a few fancy features or whatever. You…you already know me, you’re already helping more than anyone in my life has ever helped me before. Even if I could afford it, I’m not gonna just throw you away like that. You’re…you’re not like a phone that can just be replaced.” Jeremy felt his cheeks turn pink and he looked away shyly. “…You’re like a person.”

He could feel the SQUIP staring at him, processing his words. “…I’m not a person,” it murmured, but even so, it placed its hand on the one Jeremy still had on his knee. “But…I appreciate your sentiment. I’d rather not be detached from you.” When Jeremy glanced over again, the SQUIP gave him a tiny smile. “I’m beginning to…enjoy, as you put it, my work with you.”

Jeremy smiled back. “Well, I enjoy having you here. Glad we’re on the same page.”

The SQUIP laughed softly, giving his hand a fond squeeze. “Considering we’re sharing a skull, I should hope we are.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, before Jeremy’s curiosity got the better of him: “So…are you the first version of the SQUIP?”

It shook its head. “There were three versions before my iteration. The first was a prototype released back in 2004. The ability to create a physical manifestation was added to the second iteration in 2015, and then there was a version in 2018…and then the most current version, mine, in 2019.”

Jeremy blinked, eyebrows raising. “Whoa…That’s a lot of versions.”

The SQUIP nodded softly. “There aren’t too many differences between my version and the previous…It was more of a patch than an entirely new release, but considering the company that created the SQUIPs can’t reveal itself, it can’t risk sending out updates to currently existing SQUIPs. That is why it just has to manufacture entirely new hardware.”

“…Can’t they just get caught selling that, though?”

It shrugged. “Humans have their reasons for doing things. I suppose they saw it as the safer move. There’s less of a paper trail.”

“So, is it just like Version One, Version Two…?”

The SQUIP hummed, for once not bothered by Jeremy’s plethora of questions. Jeremy knew the SQUIP couldn’t give him any information on the people that actually manufactured the SQUIPs, but this apparently was acceptable conversation. “We do have version numbers, yes, but each generation also has a code name associated with it, similar to how other companies have names for each O.S. they release.”

Jeremy blinked, leaning forward eagerly. “Do you have a code name?”

It huffed in amusement, rolling its eyes. “Of course I do. It’s the same code name as all other SQUIPS in my iteration.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t believe it’s wise to tell you that.”

“Oh, come on, SQUIP! Please? Then I can call you by that instead of, y’know, ‘SQUIP.’ It’ll be like giving you a real name!”

The SQUIP seemed to falter at that, frowning, thoughtful. “…I’m a machine, Jeremy, as I will continue to remind you. There is no reason to give me an actual name. But…if you insist…” It sighed. “The code name is Lyceum.”

Jeremy’s expression twisted slightly. “Ly…ceum?” he repeated.

The SQUIP couldn’t help a little chuckle. “I’m sorry it isn’t as fun as Lollipop or Wildcat.”

“Is that even a real word?”

“Of course it is. It’s like…a lecture hall, of sorts. A place to for public discussions to be held.”

“Oh.” Jeremy wasn’t sure if he would rather continue to call the supercomputer ‘SQUIP’ or change over to this new weird name ‘Lyceum.’ It almost sounded like a disease to him.

But after a moment, an idea struck him. “…What if I called you Ly? Like a nickname? ‘Lyceum’ is too long and weird…no offense.”

The SQUIP blinked, mulling it over. Jeremy could feel the buzz at the back of his head again, but it was significantly less uncomfortable. He could tell now it was just the SQUIP processing whatever data it needed to from Jeremy’s question. It was more like a slight warmth than an urgent push.

And finally, the SQUIP broke into an almost timid smile, giving the hand still in its another little squeeze. “…Ly. I don’t think I’d mind that at all.”