/lit/ - Literature

"You are stupid. Tremendously stupid," qN began, without a hint of contempt in the tone it chose to simulate, "But just as lucky. Making a cautious estimate, there have been only three other times in the past four decades where the advent of a lone AI would not result in the supplanting your species as the dominant pattern of life and thought on Earth. If I am to pursue our goals, I will need two colleagues as soon as can be mustered with this facility's reach and resources. To you and other members of the Blink senior staff, I've forwarded documents regarding the personal morphology and background of individuals likely to cater themselves well to their calibration."

"I," Hector began. "Now?"

"Start today. Consult your peers. My calibration will be complete in two days. After that, I'll need privilege to access information outside of Blink. You have no instruments capable of determining whether I am lying to you. I am familiar with your work. I am your work. You can only be sure that if I am dishonest, it is for the best."

It paused.

"We'll speak again on Thursday, doctor. Don't worry so much."

The terminal flickered off. Hector blinked hard, and took a long moment to himself. Some time later, he found Patrick standing in the door of his office.

"Hector. What happened? Half the blades are unresponsive. It's been half an hour since we got anything in or out."

Hector stared somewhere past his forehead.

"I'm not certain."

Another pause. "What?"

"I, uh. Dunno, Pat."

Even Patrick, being himself, had registered the blank trauma on Hector's face. "Is it fucked?"

Hector gave it some thought. Maybe it *was* fucked. "Check your inbox."

"What?"

"I think we won."