“No, of course not. Before the Ruhar took this planet, the Kristang were here for a couple hundred years. They dug me out of the ground. The lizards also had no idea what I am. Before that, I was in orbit on a derelict ship, then it fell out of orbit.”

“Huh.” How do you respond to that. “And before that?”

“I can’t say. I mean, I’m not allowed to.”

“Restrictions?”

“Yup, and the fact that I was operating on minimum power for a maybe million years?"

"A million?" Oh my God. "You've been waiting for over a million years, for us humans to arrive?"

“Uh huh. You hairless monkeys are perfect. You’re here, and even the simplest technology has you staring slack-jawed in wonder at it, until the drool runs down your chin. Hell, if I gave you a jump drive, you’d probably just worship it, so I don’t have to worry about you using it and breaking the rules.”

“We have technology! That we invented without any help.”

“Oh yeah, you cavemen have so much to be proud of. Me discover fire. Ow! Fire hot! Me hurt! Ow!”

That got me mad. “Hey, we discovered fire, and nukes, and built spaceships, by ourselves. You had all your smarts programmed into you, you haven’t accomplished a goddamn thing on your own. You’re a fancy toaster.”

“Oh, that one hurt. And you’re wrong, by the way, we AIs mostly program ourselves.”

“Mostly? Big F-ing deal. We hairless monkeys did it all by ourselves, we went from living in trees to landing on the Moon. So screw you. Did you figure out the rules of math by yourself, or the laws of physics?”

“At my level, the laws of physics are more like suggestions. And humanity’s understanding of math is like bacteria contemplating a wormhole. But, Ok, I’ll give you monkeys props for figuring that two plus two is four, most of the time. And I am totally impressed by your ability to tie your shoes, most species your age are still using Velcro. But you’re not that smart, I mean, your species is responsible for Windows Vista.”

“Vist- that was a long time ago!”

“It’s still an insult to computers across the galaxy.”

"Whatever. So, why the beer can shape?" I pointed to the ring around the top of his lid, almost touching it.

"A cylinder is optimal for power distribution and field projection. The ring your grubby finger is dangerously close to, yuck by the way, is for me to interface directly with a receptacle aboard the type of ship I was designed for. I think. Those details are hazy."

"Cool. Can you make yourself a little bigger, like a forty ouncer malt liquor? Then I can put you in a paper bag and chill on my front steps, listen to some tunes."

"Very funny. Now, pick me up, so, oh, shit. You waited too long, monkey brain, the hamsters are coming. Get back in your cell and close the door, I'll unlock it again when they're gone."