Orientation notes in hand, I stood helplessly by in the Control Room as the Information Technologists installed the super computer we’re testing for the Navy. In addition to the master ‘brain’ in the Control Room, there will be small ‘network’ units fitting neatly into the monitors throughout the boat.  These can be accessed with a pen like devise, issued to all hands, to  insert into the ‘ports’. Retina scans will be used only should  an emergency occur. Only Harry, Chip, O’Brien and I have been programmed into those. The damn thing even knows our blood types. Not that that’s a bad thing. I just don’t like the fact that this system knows everything about us and we, with the exception of Agent McGee and maybe Chip, hardly know anything about it.

I could almost feel Seaview wince during the installation.  I know she’ll never forgive me .

 And so we began our first day. Chip smirked as it performed its assigned tasks perfectly. But did it have to interrupt  at times with such things as depth (which we knew already!),water temperature,  salinity, fish  and sea life native to the area we were in,  life spans, favorite food supply and mating habits.  Of course, I wasn’t in the mood for encyclopedia lessons at the time, especially when they were intoned by a voice just like Walter Cronkite’s. I just wanted to get us underway.

Then once we cleared the harbor and were in blue water, it had the gall to ask me if I’d had breakfast  yet! This time it used a female voice so much like my mother’s that  for one horrible moment I thought Chip had smuggled her aboard. (Not that I wouldn’t mind having her as a passenger for a three hour tour or something.)  I knew Chip had something to do with it when it added, ‘Lee, dear’ to its question.

With a scowl I informed Chip and McGee to delete that particular part of its programming and before long we had Walter Cronkite back. But he too inquired a few hours later if I’d remembered not only to eat, but also  to present myself to Sickbay for one of Doc’s little checkups.’ Walter’ didn’t call it a checkup, though. He called it an appointment.  I promptly replied that I didn’t have an appointment. To which my ‘mom’ said I ‘did now’. At least there was no more ‘Lee, dear’ attached. Oh no, now it was ‘Lee, sweetie.’

I had  a little talk with McGee and Chip again, but it didn’t do much good, for  no matter what they tried, the darn thing seemed delighted in selecting  similar ‘terms of endearment,’ as Nelson started to call them, that it had gotten into its sweet little microchip heart to associate one Lee Crane.  

McGee had to call the IT help desk for back up and they think the only way to delete that particular aspect would involve a reboot, which would make us put Seaview on manual override (fine by me) but Harry seemed to think our mission would be over sooner if I just put on a brave face and put up with it.  Easy for him to say. He doesn’t have his ‘mom’ telling him it’s bedtime and to not forget to brush his teeth.