Confrontation

Bob and TARS walked through the doors of New Coke Factory’s office section where the sign “owner” was hung. New Coke and an unexpected instantiated android were here with him.

TARS ran his scan and immediately identified the strange machine: “This is ur-Coke. From him, all cola sprang, I think?”

BobG ethered back to the VDIC for a scan in the deep archives for possible missing VBI from the lab. After a moment’s wait, it was clear. The records were corrupted and, after a hash review, it was clear that the very Coca-Cola formula with actual cocaine was now here in the room as well.

TARS tagged the android as rogue and waited for Bob.

New Coke and now ur-Coke simply looked at Bob who simply whistled a low tune. It was the basic monitor reset for all androids. All three glassbound, including TARS, simply stared at Bob. None were moving. Bob had, as part of his job, learned ShelWhistleZSH basics like this one. He wasn’t some canary that could make an android sing like Mariah Carey, the eternal, always present, audio artist playing in the MegaMart during December or so.

Bob looked at TARS. He looked back at Bob but said nothing.

Bob said, “Sorry,” and then pushed TARS’ left eyeball into its socket. The orb was about an inch back with Bob’s thumb depressing. BobG counted, “1 second … 2…3…4…5. Release.”

Bob removed his thumb and waited. After a moment, TARS’ eyeball popped back into place with a snap.

The android issued an ancient chord and then slowly came to life as if from sleep. BobG issued his TARS password and TARS was back as normal.

TARS newly lucid, “Thanks, Bob. Maybe a Jobs-damn warning before the whistle next time. Now my eyeball has a thumbprint on it, you know. I’m taking a picture out of my left eye. It has evidence on it…”

TARS’s eyeball popped from sheit’s head and sheit buffed it quickly and slapped the orb firmly in place.

Bob apologized, “Sorry. Just didn’t want anything to go sideways. I’m pretty sure nobody put New Coke with the arming switch or loadout, but who knows what the patterns were when ur-Coke was installed. So, no like ’bot battle-of-doom while the poor meat tries to not get skewered by spiky arms or micro-missiles or Van-To-Hobo anti-materiel recoilless-rifle shots to my noggin was kinda my primary goal. Sorry again. Remember, pork tonight. My place?”

TARS shrugged and said, “Well, ok. I mean Salote’s pork tonight will be well earned, and you’re dancing again. I brought the shirts and everything.”

Bob smiled, “Er. Well, OK. Maybe a dance? If you lead. It’ll be great to have some new guests, or maybe, more pork each?”

TARS said, “You invited a bear and multiple dogs. There will bearly be pork to eat if you get my pun.”

Bob sat with that for a second and then BobG showed him the joke. He then laughed a bit.

Bob said, “Always can have pizza? Have you tried it? Needs lots of anti-death, but totally worth it.”

BobG interfaced with the operating systems of each of New Coke and ur-Coke while TARS and Bob talked. Both Cokes had some degree of corruption from the long exposure to their respective VBIs. Bob asked for BobG’s repair plan. BobG overlaid the base image over the current image of New Coke.

Bob noted, “OK, New Coke is badly damaged in the honesty filtering due to heavy marketing exposure. The constant hiding of the truth is difficult for these systems. That’s intentional and the reason why we use androids for this work. You really don’t know how an SI affects until you simulate it somehow.”

BobG replaced damaged sectors carefully as Bob watched.

BobG found the misleading segments. Those were highlighted with a “?” in the grid.

BobG found the deceptive segments. Those were highlighted with a “??” in the grid.

BobG found the fantasy segments. Those were highlighted with a “?!?!” in the grid.

BobG asked for confirmation from Bob that he was also satisfied with the changes to New Coke. Bob confirmed.

Bob said, “Let’s move over to this little surprise. Where did you come from my walking-talking original sin?”

BobG showed the ur-Coke internals. Bob sighed, “Perl. Parking Lot! OK. BobG. Can you move to Pythinglish so we can actually understand the source here?”

As BobG wrote the translation, Bob told TARS, “Man, some of those older langs. You should see the functional programming wing of the VDIC when you have a second. The Thunk diorama is hilarious when they all start running around? Kinda more like performance art than anything else? Guys just ramming their heads into walls at random moments.”

BobG noted, “Here’s the Pythinglish:”

” import os

os.execute(‘Fuck some shit up and make some dollardoos for me to spend on whisky and whores!’)

”

Bob said, “Well, that’s much easier to read than 5234 p;likqv 4c5r90e[p]”

BobG said, “I’ll just reimage this and reload the ur-Coke. He’ll be back to himself without the strange Perl script running.”

Bob asked BobG, “Lower all the emotional settings from the meat simulations. These are at the showcase level like the poor Office workers back at the VDIC. No need to have so much intensity. This is probably the whole issue. They were left with the display settings, couldn’t take it, and escaped.”

Bob watched as both New Coke and ur-Coke reset and the new config and OS rebooted with that strange chord from the past.

Bob then spoke, “Hi to both of you. I’ll remind you of the basic composition of all our androids and the redundant safety systems that we put in place given even the remote possibility of escape. We’ve seen that foresight was warranted. So, somehow these ideas have corrupted you in their intensity and or their relative appeal. Sure, a Coke is a very nice treat and, it’s your choice how much of anti-death you want to take or what that means to anyone but you. Cocaine, OK. That’s another decision and prolly, I dunno, be clearly called out. That didn’t seem to happen here for money’s sake and I declare that you just proved to us all that you guys would have won it all. Just the small demonstration of the power of things like bears as spokespersons was brilliant! Carlito and the whole party? That was a great party, TARS and I had a blast, but I hope everyone knew what they were getting… and well, it was pretty clear it wasn’t just cola, right? In any case, here’s the deal. I’m going home to my wife and some great roasted GennedPig. She’s a pro. Come over and eat. We’ll talk. See what you want to do with these VBIs but I think it’s time you reblank and just go back into rotation or if you want, do whatever?”

Bob whistled more shell. The androids regained full control of their bodies.

New Coke blinked and then said, “Thanks for the invite, Bob.” and then ur-Coke said, “I will be thar as whal.”

Bob turned and left with TARS to the awaiting train as he did not want to miss Lefty and Righty’s performance as he believed they were planning something special Bob said that all this work was going to be over tonight. One way or another, later that evening, a celebration was in order.