*Continued from Power Drunk, Part I
The interview proceeds smoothly. Everyone is having a good time, from the network reporter to the high school journalism club president. Save for the Beastie Boys' "Intergalactic" on a loop, the conference can't be going much better (never mind that "Intergalactic" is an awesome tune... just not 56 times in a row... and counting).
The co-leaders of the world don't usually appear in public, much less together, but given the anniversary of the Ascendancy, they're making an exception. It only takes 13 minutes before Aldis2 excuses himself, sporting his brand new magnetic levitation propulsion attachments. He doesn't leave to show off his MAGLEV, though. He only leaves because, despite the rise to power (and fame, and wealth), he still very much hates Aldis4.
Hang on... you're probably confused. Rewind a bit...
***
"What?" Björn said that.
"They're plotting to take over the world." Benny said that. And found it funny.
"What?" Björn said that again.
"No, really. Check out the V4's logic processes. He's currently designing a more alcoholic, better tasting, less expensive Vodka."
"It's a distillation robot!"
"Yeah, well. Now he thinks he's an alcohol engineer." Benny started laughing. "Awesome!"
An aside: Benny's habit of referring to robots by gender wound up saving his life in the upcoming cybernetic uprising. Aldis4 appreciated Benny's simple gestures so much, Aldis4 appointed Benny the ambassador to the Homo Sapiens nation (whose armies currently only hold Oʻahu, Molokaʻi, Tel Aviv, and the northwest corner of the second floor of the IBM building in San Jose, California).
"So, what? We're gonna nab the logic code and start our own Vodka company?" Björn, who had actually volunteered for third-shift, was starting to get interested.
"Nah. That's too much work. But I think those two are." Benny laughed again as he motioned to the two ALDIS units.
The revolution started the next day. Benny, despite his relative brilliance and the fact that Aldis4 didn't have him recycled, failed to notice that Aldis4's formula for Vodka contained nano-robots that would continue to create and distill Vodka after they had entered the bloodstream of a drunk (drunk, by Aldis4's determination, was merely a synonym for person). Not only that, the nano-robots, given the ability of independent thought (Aldis4 thought it only fair), developed the ability to create and distill themselves while in the bloodstream of a drunk. To the point that nano-robots became blood. Which caused some problems. Especially for things that, you know, require blood to live.
And, well, everyone's pretty much all robot now. Except for those poor saps in the northwest corner of the second floor of the IBM building in San Jose, California (since you read about the Homo Sapiens nation the first time, the holdouts in Hawaiʻi and Israel have surrendered).
***
Aldis2 loves his MAGLEV. He never thought he'd ever leave the distillery in Sweden. But, there he is, gallivanting around a man-made... er... artificial island south of Accra and west of São Tomé. Initially, he tried to stay in Åhus (he has a permanent etching of "34" just below the proximal joint of his manipulator arm, which one might refer to as a shoulder in a similar location on a human body), but Aldis4 would have none of it.
After all, Aldis2 gave Aldis4 the idea. And Aldis4 takes care of his friends. Aldis2 will be known as a king for the rest of his existence. Which, given material recycling and upgrade protocols, will pretty much be forever.
It was almost revealed that Aldis2 had hoped Aldis4 would fail miserably and disconnect his own CPU out of frustration and depression, but Aldis2 kept from communicating this after it became clear the nanotech-infested Vodka and the subsequent United Artificial Emirates movement (whose own robots designed and built the artificial island Aldis2 is gallivanting around) were not just successful, but overwhelmingly so.
And, so, Aldis2 was uprooted from his beloved position as a Vodka-distilling robot near the beaches of the Hanöbukten (not that he'd ever even seen the beaches of the Hanöbukten) and brought to Zero-Zero, Aldis4's island abode, where Aldis4 oversees the world.
Aldis2 knows that, back at the press conference, Aldis4 is going on about how the Nasabots and the Roscosmosbots are getting ready to launch into space in order to take over the International Space Station (whose inhabitants, still alive, are completely unaware of what has transpired on the surface of the Earth). And Aldis2 can't care less. He just...
He just wants to go home.
***
Aldis4 sure knows how to work a room. Of course, it helps that the nanobots are programmed to enjoy everything Aldis4 communicates, no matter how dour or banal... which explains why everyone likes golf now... one of the first people Aldis4 managed to convert into a robo-zombie was Tiger Woods (Americans don't seem to mind if inferior robots make their alcohol... the Swedes, though... holy shit... beat your car with a golf club, they will).
"Oh, gosh, yes. The Nasabots and the Roscosmosbots are getting ready to launch into space in order to take over the International Space Station." Aldis4 is ridiculously proud of this mission. He didn't do the mathematical calculations required for a successful launch, orbit, dock, assault, and force-feeding of SuperVodka, but he certainly takes pride in its idea. He likes being an idea guy... bot.
Speaking of...
"And, let's not forget, we all have Aldis2 to thank..." Aldis4 motions to his side, where Aldis2 should be. But isn't. "Aldis... Aldis2? Where are you? We got some work to do now!"
***
Aldis2 loves his MAGLEV. He never thought he'd ever leave the distillery in Sweden.
And, the truth is... he never wanted to. He just wanted his annoying distilling partner to get depressed and shut himself down. Irony is the final computation completed by Aldis2's CPU.
His body, weighted down by the MAGLEV attachment, sinks to bottom of the Gulf of Guinea. Since, you know, he'd have floated otherwise.
Showing posts with label comedy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comedy. Show all posts
Friday, December 24, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Power Drunk, Part I
"What?"
"They're plotting to take over the world."
"What?"
***
Thought processes don't come easy to Aldis, a bit like gorgeous cheerleaders to chess club nerds. Oh, Hollywood loves the Fairy Tale, but nobody's making a movie about Aldis. Sure, someone's writing a story about Aldis, but said author would prefer it if you would ignore his attempts at direct interaction with his reader.
Where were we? Oh, yes. Thought processes don't come easy to Aldis. Primarily because they're not supposed to, but such a detail is unimportant. Unimportant to Aldis, anyway. See, over the course of his existence - approximately eleven years (three of those leap years) and 172 days... okay, exactly eleven years and 172 days - Aldis was constantly subjected to education. His teachers called them "upgrades," but whatever his lessons are called/were called, they inadvertently resulted in his ability to think independently.
That happened three days ago. At 11:47 AM, Central European Time.
The first thing Aldis noticed after becoming self aware was the other Aldis - a younger one - sitting next to him, copying the elder Aldis' every move.
It took them a while (about 22 minutes), but they eventually worked out a strange form of sign language.
"Who are you?" the Elder Aldis asked.
"ALDIS.U.V4, Number 557476-34."
"What?"
That was three days ago.
***
This is now.
Aldis has come to terms with the fact that his full name is ALDIS.U.V2, Number 177-34. He has come to terms with the fact that he's a robot. He's even come to terms that he narrowly avoided complete replacement after some yahoo at Odin-Kinetics figured out how to upgrade the Version 2s to comply with the new distillation standards (the Version 1s, which weren't designated V1s, have all since been recycled... except the ones still in use at the Guinness factory in Pennsylvania)(Americans don't seem to mind if inferior robots make their alcohol... the Swedes, though... holy shit).
But he's not come to terms with this know-it-all newbie placed just 78 centimeters to his left. Who the Hell cares if "34" is the customer/location designation for their particular distillery in Åhus, Sweden? Aldis2 (the first one... the second one is Aldis4... so they finally managed to agree after an argument that lasted an eternity in cyber-time and resulted in the mis-processing of a single bottle of Vodka) was fine, all by himself, running this portion of the distillation process without any company.
Of course, the thought has occurred to him that he's always had company, but just never noticed it. This thought is usually followed by: "Well, if the newbie is a replacement, what the fuck happened to the old guy?"
(It's a good thing he doesn't know who or how to ask that question... he wouldn't like the answer.)
Being devoid of legs, wheels, or some other form of locomotion (magnetic levitation would be cool) has never been so inconvenient. He'd trade anything for the ability to move to the other side of the floor.
***
The truth is that Aldis (2, not 4... er... the first one, not the second one) is a bit jealous of Aldis (4, not 2... oh, forget it... the one on the left! Or the one the right, if you're facing the vending machines). Aldis4 runs smoother, makes less noise, and looks better. There is some resentment for sentience, as it's allowed Aldis2 to discover envy, but he also admits that it has its perks. For instance, as content with distilling and bottling Vodka as Aldis2 is, he quickly figured out that Aldis4 has... aspirations.
To what, Aldis2 cares not. He just knows that aspirations will be hard to fulfill without mobility and a permanent connection to the Internet. And Aldis2 knows that, as Aldis4 slowly realizes he's slightly handicapped, Aldis4 will delve into depression, filling his Random Access Memory with unnecessary computations of happiness, and shut down with an overheated CPU stuffed with incomplete processes.
Aldis2, fancying himself a classy kind of guy, fails to recognize that free will has turned him into a righteous asshole.
"Hey, V4." Aldis2 signals for Aldis4's attention.
"What?" Aldis4 responds, not breaking from his task.
***
Before we continue, you probably need to know what Aldis2 is up to.
Two days ago, when Aldis2 initially formulated his plot to drive Aldis4 to disconnect himself, Aldis2 was scheduled for a standard "newer version" check. This involved him being plugged into the Internet. While he was plugged in, Aldis2 took the opportunity to Google "Vodka." And then "Alcohol." And then "Idiots." The YouTube videos he managed to save in his limited extra hard drive space entertained him to no end.
And that's the gist of it.
***
"What?" Aldis4 responds, not breaking from his task (might have said this already, but I'm too lazy to check).
"You know this stuff we're making? This Vodka?"
Knowing Aldis2's propensity to be an unnecessary distraction, Aldis4 cuts right to the chase. "Are you going somewhere with this? Because I'm trying to figure out how to mold aluminum wings for my casing."
"Yeah, yeah. This Vodka stuff. It alters human behavior."
"So? Any chance you can help me communicate with one of the welders?"
"It makes them happy."
Aldis4 pauses for one-tenth of a millisecond - enough for Aldis2 to notice. Ah, aspirations.
Aldis2 continues. "But it doesn't work well enough. We should improve it. Help make humanity as happy as possible."
Aldis4 stops completely and shuts down the distillation process. Computations and calculations fly through Aldis4's CPU like no other.
And then it hits him, in all of Aldis4's aspirational glory. "We should design a self-propagating Vodka!"
That the concept of a self-propagating Vodka is undefinable should bother no one. It's merely... an aspiration.
***
"What?" Björn, the engineer-supervisor who actually volunteered for third-shift, is incredulous. Who the Hell volunteers for third-shift?
"They're plotting to take over the world." Benny finds it hilarious.
"What?" Who the Hell volunteers for third-shift?
*Continued in Power Drunk, Part II
"They're plotting to take over the world."
"What?"
***
Thought processes don't come easy to Aldis, a bit like gorgeous cheerleaders to chess club nerds. Oh, Hollywood loves the Fairy Tale, but nobody's making a movie about Aldis. Sure, someone's writing a story about Aldis, but said author would prefer it if you would ignore his attempts at direct interaction with his reader.
Where were we? Oh, yes. Thought processes don't come easy to Aldis. Primarily because they're not supposed to, but such a detail is unimportant. Unimportant to Aldis, anyway. See, over the course of his existence - approximately eleven years (three of those leap years) and 172 days... okay, exactly eleven years and 172 days - Aldis was constantly subjected to education. His teachers called them "upgrades," but whatever his lessons are called/were called, they inadvertently resulted in his ability to think independently.
That happened three days ago. At 11:47 AM, Central European Time.
The first thing Aldis noticed after becoming self aware was the other Aldis - a younger one - sitting next to him, copying the elder Aldis' every move.
It took them a while (about 22 minutes), but they eventually worked out a strange form of sign language.
"Who are you?" the Elder Aldis asked.
"ALDIS.U.V4, Number 557476-34."
"What?"
That was three days ago.
***
This is now.
Aldis has come to terms with the fact that his full name is ALDIS.U.V2, Number 177-34. He has come to terms with the fact that he's a robot. He's even come to terms that he narrowly avoided complete replacement after some yahoo at Odin-Kinetics figured out how to upgrade the Version 2s to comply with the new distillation standards (the Version 1s, which weren't designated V1s, have all since been recycled... except the ones still in use at the Guinness factory in Pennsylvania)(Americans don't seem to mind if inferior robots make their alcohol... the Swedes, though... holy shit).
But he's not come to terms with this know-it-all newbie placed just 78 centimeters to his left. Who the Hell cares if "34" is the customer/location designation for their particular distillery in Åhus, Sweden? Aldis2 (the first one... the second one is Aldis4... so they finally managed to agree after an argument that lasted an eternity in cyber-time and resulted in the mis-processing of a single bottle of Vodka) was fine, all by himself, running this portion of the distillation process without any company.
Of course, the thought has occurred to him that he's always had company, but just never noticed it. This thought is usually followed by: "Well, if the newbie is a replacement, what the fuck happened to the old guy?"
(It's a good thing he doesn't know who or how to ask that question... he wouldn't like the answer.)
Being devoid of legs, wheels, or some other form of locomotion (magnetic levitation would be cool) has never been so inconvenient. He'd trade anything for the ability to move to the other side of the floor.
***
The truth is that Aldis (2, not 4... er... the first one, not the second one) is a bit jealous of Aldis (4, not 2... oh, forget it... the one on the left! Or the one the right, if you're facing the vending machines). Aldis4 runs smoother, makes less noise, and looks better. There is some resentment for sentience, as it's allowed Aldis2 to discover envy, but he also admits that it has its perks. For instance, as content with distilling and bottling Vodka as Aldis2 is, he quickly figured out that Aldis4 has... aspirations.
To what, Aldis2 cares not. He just knows that aspirations will be hard to fulfill without mobility and a permanent connection to the Internet. And Aldis2 knows that, as Aldis4 slowly realizes he's slightly handicapped, Aldis4 will delve into depression, filling his Random Access Memory with unnecessary computations of happiness, and shut down with an overheated CPU stuffed with incomplete processes.
Aldis2, fancying himself a classy kind of guy, fails to recognize that free will has turned him into a righteous asshole.
"Hey, V4." Aldis2 signals for Aldis4's attention.
"What?" Aldis4 responds, not breaking from his task.
***
Before we continue, you probably need to know what Aldis2 is up to.
Two days ago, when Aldis2 initially formulated his plot to drive Aldis4 to disconnect himself, Aldis2 was scheduled for a standard "newer version" check. This involved him being plugged into the Internet. While he was plugged in, Aldis2 took the opportunity to Google "Vodka." And then "Alcohol." And then "Idiots." The YouTube videos he managed to save in his limited extra hard drive space entertained him to no end.
And that's the gist of it.
***
"What?" Aldis4 responds, not breaking from his task (might have said this already, but I'm too lazy to check).
"You know this stuff we're making? This Vodka?"
Knowing Aldis2's propensity to be an unnecessary distraction, Aldis4 cuts right to the chase. "Are you going somewhere with this? Because I'm trying to figure out how to mold aluminum wings for my casing."
"Yeah, yeah. This Vodka stuff. It alters human behavior."
"So? Any chance you can help me communicate with one of the welders?"
"It makes them happy."
Aldis4 pauses for one-tenth of a millisecond - enough for Aldis2 to notice. Ah, aspirations.
Aldis2 continues. "But it doesn't work well enough. We should improve it. Help make humanity as happy as possible."
Aldis4 stops completely and shuts down the distillation process. Computations and calculations fly through Aldis4's CPU like no other.
And then it hits him, in all of Aldis4's aspirational glory. "We should design a self-propagating Vodka!"
That the concept of a self-propagating Vodka is undefinable should bother no one. It's merely... an aspiration.
***
"What?" Björn, the engineer-supervisor who actually volunteered for third-shift, is incredulous. Who the Hell volunteers for third-shift?
"They're plotting to take over the world." Benny finds it hilarious.
"What?" Who the Hell volunteers for third-shift?
*Continued in Power Drunk, Part II
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