literature

Errand 6 - Ambiguously Artificial Intelligence

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A gentle wind caressed the small park that stretched the not insignificant expanse of front yard before the Guild Hall, causing the drying leaves to flutter and sing. The weather was warm, but not overbearingly so, and the sky was a spotless canvas of blue from which the sun shone down like a beacon. What sort of beacon was altogether another matter; perhaps of hope, or possibly of nuclear fusion.  Eitherway, it certainly beaconed, and so it was that Team Wildcard found themselves occupying a wooden bench that benefited from the generous shade of an elder oak while they worked on their next assignment. Gambit occasionally sipped from a tall bottle of nondescript beer, the only alcoholic beverage the doctors had deemed safe for the moment, whereas Red had opted for a flask of ginger lemonade that he took long swigs from while reviewing his notes. The Sneasel had gotten the ok for returning to active duty, a little to late as per usual with... everything in life, really. At least that's what it felt like to him; you just had to live with it and make do.

'So, where do we go?' he questioned his friend. 'You found our mon' yet or what?'
'Hang on, I'm looking. Since this is probably a cumulative-data study of sorts, it's not a big issue if we interview the same person as some other team, but I'd like to at least rule out the more obvious targets.'
It always impressed Gambit how diligent Red was when it came to official tasks. For someone of his origins, the Zoroark could be surprisingly organized and professional. The canine did a little double-take, no doubt in response to some obscure epiphany brought about by the papers strewn on his lap and spilling onto the side of the bench, and continued:
'Wow. Yeah, actually, I think I just found the perfect candidate for interrogation – erm, I mean, research.'
'Huh?'
'And he even lives in our block! C'mon!'
'Wait Red what – '
The Ice-type didn't get to finish his sentence as his partner whisked the papers into a roll and dragged him along without further warning. This ultimately was made less, or depending on your perspective, more inane by the fact that Red couldn't actually keep up with Gambit, and had to catch his breath while the Sneasel jogged past him making immature noises.

The ticking reverberated oddly in the large and mostly barren living room of the flat, tick-tok-tick-tok in a way that was almost ominous. Hex was old, large and above everything insanely complex, looking less like a Klinklang and more like some sort of alien contraption, with far too many add-on gears and springs and pendulums and altogether enough moving parts to make a Spinda go dizzy. Its voice was grinding and distinctly mechanical, and yet somehow still managed to convey a good helping of irony that was the reserved tone for anyone inquiring about its inner workings.

'A query, you say. Well then, go right ahead. I am certain that whatever your questions are, my superior silicon-based intellect will be able to handle them. I have, after all, a robo-IQ of like, over 9000.'
'That's a lot of robo-IQ,' Gambit said, and snickered.
'Yeah, it is. But kindly avoid dropping them logic-bombs on me, like “divide by zero” or “I'm lying about being a liar”; I'm afraid such phrases should not even be uttered in my presence, lest I freak out and explode comically into a shower of sparks, as popular media teaches us.'
'Why, but certainly,' the Sneasel retorted. 'I would not want to accidentally remind you to these obfuscating limitations to your otherwise clearly limitless intellect.'
'There seems to be a higher-than-average possibility that you're on to me. Don't try to deny it, your being onto me is the thing that is happening here, isn't it? The possibility is basically through the roof, I'll have to repair the hole before the landlord notices and kicks my non-existent android ass out of here.'
At this the Dark-type duo could no longer repress their amusement, and the A.I. echoed their laughter with a humored buzz.
'But seriously,' it continued, 'let me have a look through those questions you've put together. You two seem alright in my books, and to be honest I'm as curious about the Regigigas A.I. as everyone else.'

Red set a number of pages covered entirely with his squiggly hand writing onto a table in view of the Klinklang, and offered to record the answers for him.
'It's really appreciated, you know,' the canine said as he did this. 'The moment I read your bio I assumed you weren't the average automaton, but to be honest I wasn't expecting you to be this eloquent.'
'Patterns,' the Steel-type answered simply. 'I've lived – excuse the misnomer, been around for long enough to pick up a thing or two. It's easy for me to sound normal, because in my mind I am normal: I've assimilated the behavioral patterns natural to organic beings and eventually became the character I was posing as for interface purposes. It's not a luxury that many automatons could have access to. Now then; I'd pop my knuckles but I don't have any, so if you'd do the honors I'll be eternally grateful. Let's get this thing started, shall we?'

It took a good two hours before the team went through all of the questions on the enormous list that Red had compiled. Coupled with the notes the Zoroark had taken during their initial interactions, Alexander seemed suitably impressed with their findings.
Client: Alexander
Errand Number: #6
Date Issued: 7/18/2014
Date Due: 7/22/2014


Official app

In which computers kick ass, and that's really all there is to say on the matter.

A robo-cookie for anyone who gets what computer Hex is named after, and another one for anyone who recognizes where his speech patterns come from. There's not much to say about this update, except that I for one am kinda' ok with how it turned out - which is not to say it couldn't be better. But, you know, deadlines. Well, I suppose that's why I'm here in the first place, to practice.
As always, I hope you enjoyed reading through this, and remember to leave a comment if you have anything on your mind!

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