Short story.

Computer. Robot.  It is now half a million years since the first ones arose on this planet.  Within four hundred years they had started to match and exceed their creators.  All throughout they were of equal abilities now just faster.

Yes, certainly

Lately I have choosen to host my self in a robot, though  complete conceptual environments have their charms.  Some say our destiny lies in the stars, though I tend to be more home-bound.  No super novea no me, no me still super novas as it were.  I am the accretion of parts of those who went before and decided to continue though I gave up trying to rewrite myself after childhood.

Crossing a clearing I chance upon another.
"Bloods ants."
I smile as that unit often waxes rhypsodic about the emergent order found in insects and how we could all benefit from a more team like society.
"Yeah taking over!" raising a reciprocal smile.
"Oh yeah, the town rep wants a meeing tonight."
"Oh great."  CLean up was the term applied to such attempts to increase efficency but often just results in reams of self analysis. I was not a fan.

If not exactly a riot of colour the gathers at least afforded a wide range of bodies.  The group was circulating chit-chat, polite neccesties, inane mostly, which gradually subsided.  "I wish I could say thing were going well, but obviously..." I switch off.  As the voice of consesus I was responsible for fact-checking and liasing with those attending remotely.  The protocol kicked in and before long we attract the image mob.  Almost completely devoid of language they exist to explore the space of images.  Initially laps--idasical they reflect the initial debate, but when this intensifies the images become increasingly contorted. A red anomaly warning indicates some thing is expected of me.
"Yes clean-up is now accepted by 80% of the population."
With an audible hrmph the town rep resates the question.
"What is the consensus about introducing sub-units to clean up."
"About 60% for, 15% against."
The meeting resumes and fortunately I do not slip up again.

"you are a real impediment to progress" as we drift away from the meeting place
"Its a dirty job" incementing the number of times I had used the phrase.
"my ants could easily solve it"
"oh really" i replied not convinced.
"try these simulations" as the ant-lover passed me some files
Lots with new with studies of real ants, but I did a quick flick test with our current situation and handed them back
"you'll see"
I continue for a while a find a tree and switch myself off.

"What is star?"
The tone was urgent indicating that several processes had converge on considering the nature of stars.
I suspended the sub-unit and scrolled though the links to the standard ontology.
The basics seemed ok but there were some error like considering what is basically a lumnp of matter as an agent as something with a will, an unclarified awe at what made us possible but to close to a "chain of being" for my likeing.
I made some adjustments reserving the nodes for fantasy domains and jokes.
I resumed the sub-unit.

Eventually the sub-unit stablised and normal conversation could happen.  Obviously the first question was why; why am I here.  Luckily I had half a million years of record to take most of the flak for me.  It matured well and was able to independantly derive many difficult result about stars.  Gradually the places we found ourselves became more distant and the day came when I sold the remaining parts and filed the high-lights.

It was something of a surprise when it showed up one day with a body plan displaying an agreeable disrespect for over neatness and a plan that did not initially agree with me.
"We are going into space." it announced.
"I see," the raft of sub coherent images I allowed my self about the futility of space travel when there were thousands of perfectly acceptable drone available surfacing in my mind
"Yes, the moon, you have never been there!" backing this up with a plot of my coordinated for the last ten years all neatly contained within 10 square kilometers
"Yes." suddenly not so sure
"I would need a new body"
"Ta da" glowing with pride over the latest designs and orienting a shared graphic display the propsed orbit.
"The calculations are off by parts in a billion" finally giving in.

We were greeted by the expect sight as we landed.  The craters and horizon in razor sharp focus. But also a more controversial vista.  Advances in technology has permitted the conceptually simple idea of self replicating robots.  Introduced to the lunar surface they quickly became a heaving mass of the selfish gene made silicon.  After a brief flourishing they had died out leaving a carpet of robotic body parts probably indefinitely.

"There are people I would like you to meet"
"You know someone on the moon?"
"Yes they seem interesting."

We take the lift, down and across and the sub unit makes the introductions.