“The point is, your, er, enhancements make you seem more robotic and less humanoid—thus less prone to any kind of sexuality,” Commander Sylvan explained. “The Princess can be alone with you without a chaperone present with no damage to her reputation because it will be well-known that you have no sexual interest in her—though you will be a deadly threat to anyone who tries to harm her,” he added.
J-8 nodded, again, completely un-offended by his commander’s words.
“It is true, my emotion damper represses my sexuality and any urges I might have of that nature, along with all my other emotions,” he acknowledged.
Though to be perfectly honest, he had tried visiting the Pleasure House, where the Pairing Puppets were located not that long ago, just to see what all those “urges” were about. He had gone out of pure curiosity—which didn’t really count as an emotion—and had found the encounter with the semi-sentient doll he had been paired with no more than mildly pleasurable.
It was certainly not an experience he was aching to repeat, J-8 thought. His emotions and urges were, as always, well-contained and he could certainly be trusted to guard the Regalia Princess without being tempted to despoil her in any way.
“I accept this assignment,” he said formally to Commander Sylvan. “When do I leave?”
“At once, I’m afraid.” His commander frowned. “Every moment Princess Ka’rissa is without a Kindred guard, her danger grows. And hopefully you won’t have to be there long—just until she finds the proper suitor and mates with him,” he went on. “Once her Heat is slaked by the correct male, she will ascend to the throne and she will then be granted certain safeguards that only the legitimate ruler of Regalia is given, as I understand it. After that, you can consider your mission complete and come home to the Mother Ship.”
“Understood.” J-8 nodded again and rose from the chair. “I will pack immediately.”
Commander Sylvan rose as well, but put out a restraining hand.
“Before you go, there are a few things you must do to make yourself more acceptable to Regalia society.”
“Oh?” J-8 frowned, looking down at himself. “Is there something wrong with my appearance?”
“Not exactly but I’m afraid they won’t take well to your armored suit,” Commander Sylvan said.
“You want me to shed my exoskeleton?” J-8 lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “But it has many of my best weapons. Do I also have to ask Yipper to remove my enhancements?”
He had several, including the ocular scanner, the metallic strength and dexterity enhancements in his right hand and arm, and the bionics implanted in his legs. They were as much a part of him as his metallic eyes and his perfect sense of pitch. Losing them would make being an effective guard very difficult—though not impossible—he thought.
But Commander Sylvan was shaking his head.
“No, you can leave your enhancements on,” he promised. “It’s just the exo-skeleton that has to go. You’ll be required to wear Regalia appropriate clothing—especially when appearing in the High Court at the Princess’s side.”
“Very well, I can do that.” J-8 felt a small tickle of relief at the thought that he wouldn’t be required to strip himself of all enhancements—and then suppressed it fiercely. Not that it was actually an emotion—it was just a good thing that he wouldn’t be required to change too drastically in order to fit in during his new mission—that was all, he told himself.
“Good,” Commander Sylvan said. “And there’s just one other thing you need to change before you go—your name.”
“My…name?” J-8 looked at him in confusion.
“Your designation,” Commander Sylvan said. “’J-8’ isn’t a name that will work in the highly formal setting of the Regalia High Court.”
J-8 shook his head, honestly bewildered.
“Well…what is a good name, then?” he asked.
“I’ve actually prepared a list of names that might work for you,” Commander Sylvan said, pulling out an info-pad and tapping on its surface. “My wife, Sophia, helped. She said these would work in either the High Court or any period piece she’s ever seen. Look, here—you can pick one of them.”
J-8 took the info-pad from him and scanned it rapidly.
“Edward, John, Fitzwilliam, Matthew…” he read aloud, frowning. Finally, he found one he liked. “That one,” he said, tapping the screen. “I will be ‘James’. It sounds similar to my old designation, at least. So it won’t be too much of a change.”
“James it is,” Commander Sylvan said, nodding his approval. “And now, I’d like you to go to Regalia as soon as possible. I’ve had a long-range shuttle stocked and prepped for you and the Steward is expecting you for tonight’s ball.”
“Ball? As in…dancing?” J-8—or James, as he must now be called, he reminded himself—frowned in consternation. “As you may know, Commander, dancing and music were forbidden activities on my home world so I have never learned how to dance.”