"I suppose it also depends on their behavior and the range of emotion processed by their logic centers, whether it even makes sense to operate an android that way," Erek muses. "I'm glad I don't." He doesn't want the kind of memories that fade. He'd much rather stay non-violent than let his creators or the friends he's made since fade from the crystal clear recall he has now.

"I'm not unhappy," Erek protests, "nor do I find my life unfulfilling. Good memories are as clear as the bad ones, and I have plenty of those. My thoughts feature my creators heavily because I don't expect to ever find anyone I admire quite as strongly. They're something to aspire to, not chains holding me back." Erek's memories of the Pemalites are incredibly important to him, and he values the purpose and programming they gave him for its own sake as well as because it came from them.

If he had his human hologram, he'd be smiling. As it is, it's audible in his voice when he says, "We need dogs here, though."