Title: Infinite Monkeys
Fandom: Tomorrow People (1973)
Content Notes: No warnings apply. For Yulegoat badge.
Summary: TIM needs as upgrade he doesn't want.
Word Count: tba
Characters: John, TIM

John dropped the last of the heavy boxes onto the stack, which he regarded for a long moment before dusting off his hands. “All right, TIM, are you ready?”

TIM was not ready. Not now, nor did he plan to ever be ready. While he understood the need for routine maintenance of his systems, some tasks were too humiliating to be contemplated, much less prepared for. Lacking a face to scowl with or arms to cross into a defensive sulk, he dimmed the lights on his chassis and rolled as far away from the stack of boxes as he could. “I fail to see why this is necessary,” he protested. “I am a biotronic computer who is capable of independent thought and learning. My upgrades, in the rare instances when they are necessary, come straight from the Galactic Federation.”

John shook his head, more familiar with this argument than he wanted to be. "You're not at the Trig anymore," he pointed out.

As if there were any question about that; the damp, improvised space underneath Woodlane station that the Tomorrow People had turned into their headquarters bore no resemblance is the grandeur of the Federation's master ship. Little about Earth matched the expectations of someone used to the Trig.

For instance, Earth computers, with which TIM was often expected to interface. Talking to them often felt like trying to communicate with a tadpole.

"I am quite content to bide my time," TIM pointed out. Tadpoles did eventually mature, after all, and Earth's computers had likewise come a long way over the five years that TIM had interacted with them. He'd even become aware of the human programmers devising ways to use the machines for entertainment. If anything could push the nascent technology along, that would.

"We can't take that risk," John countered. "It's imperative for all our safety that you stay compatible. No easy task, I should remind you. I went to a lot of trouble to 'borrow' this program, and I need to return it before anyone notices it missing. We wouldn't want to start a war over the mysterious loss of military secrets, would we?"

It was a cheap shot, and John knew it. He also knew it would work. TIM's primary mission here was to help aid the Earth through a peaceful transition to Federation membership. Knowingly starting a war violated all of his programming, Federation originated and not.

As if knowing he'd won, John removed the lid from the top box and pulled out the first stack of punch cards.

Reluctantly, TIM scooted back to his resting position. "I trust that you will not breathe a word of this to Timus," he said, referring to the Earth's liaison with the Trig and TIM's creator.

"My lips are sealed," John agreed.

That promise mightn't be worth much coming from a telepath, but this was John, who wasn't inclined to exploiting loopholes.

Unlike other Tomorrow People.

A quick scan of the frequencies showed that everyone on Earth who could interrupt was asleep; he chose not to worry about anyone coming from farther away.

"Very well. How long can it take? It's only a few...thousand...cards."

As John began feeding the cards into the secret reader he'd built into TIM's body, he smiled knowingly.