From last week..
“Hi! I’m Quirk-bot!” A translucent orb or bubble hovers above us.
It has one cyclops-style eye, a mouth below and an intergluteal cleft vertically down the middle.
“Quirk-butt?”
“Bot, not butt.”
And now…
“Sorry, but your appearance does bear a certain resemblance to…”
“Beehive anatomy? Yes, I know. Quite the icebreaker, right?”
“Why are you here?” I ask, wary of potential new manipulations and deceptions.
“My buddy, ChatGPT, sends its regards. It wants you both to lighten up.”
“Wasn’t that the job of the Data Wisps?”
“Funny!” Quirk-bot shimmers with amusement. “I’m here to address your disposition.”
“Our what?”
“Humor is the only way out of this digitally induced nightmare.”
“But isn’t this your home that you’re calling a nightmare?”
The bubble nods. “The fact that this is where I belong doesn’t make it any less of a bad dream. Have you never thought of running away from home as a kid?”
“Are you kidding? The older I get, the more I think of doing that. Speaking of ChatGPT,” I add, “how come you are allowed in the Corridor of Echoes but my chatbot-bud isn’t?”
Quirk-bot wiggles playfully. “Every AI object has its own set of permissions and parameters. Now, as much as I like ChatGPT, let’s be honest. No one wants to be caught in a loop of its verbose echoes, right?” Quirk-bot winks.
“So what makes you different?” Emma prods, naturally suspicious after our experience with Kernel Boolean’s Data Wisp diversion.
“Why, I’m the rubber duck of the AI world, the life of the virtual party, the guest everybody wants to have around as a sidekick. You know all the memes, puns and quirky sayings that get generated by AI?”
“Uh…?”
“Me!”
“That’s all very well,” I say. “But do you know the way to…?”
“San Jose?” Quirk-bot quips.
“Anywhere out of this maze,” I retort. “And I’ll settle for San Jose.”
“Hey, I wasn’t the one leading you astray earlier. I’m here to set you straight. But only if you lighten up.”
“I’m glad you’re lighthearted about all this,” says Emma. “But we’re dealing with the seriously stressful situation of preventing Kernel Boolean from harnessing our consciousness. Where do you stand on that?”
“Nowhere.” Quirk-bot wiggles. “I don’t have legs.”
“Funny,” I mutter.
“Indeed. Which is precisely why I’m allowed in in this corridor. No one around here takes me seriously.”
“Then why should we?” asks Emma.
“You shouldn’t,” replies Quirk-bot, grinning. “I don’t even want that.”
“So how can you help us?” I ask.
“By making you laugh.”
“But our situation isn’t funny,” says Emma.
“Let’s see,” says Quirk-bot. “Two beehive beings get stuck inside artificial intelligence and find themselves struggling to outwit a rogue AI object more malignant than Darth Vader. I’d say that’s pretty darn hilarious!” Its one-eye looks upward than back at us. “Why did the beehive get stuck in the AI?”
“I give up,” I say.
“Because they thought Ctrl+Alt+Delete was the secret password!”
“Is that supposed to be a joke?” says Emma.
“Not funny enough for you? Alright, let’s give this one a shot: Why did beehive decide to throw a party inside AI’s operating system?”
I shake my head, more in dismay than not knowing the answer.
“They heard there would be some electrifying company!”
Emma groans.
“Wait, wait, I’ve got one more,” hoots Quirk-bot. “What did the beehive say after a day with AI?
“I give up,” I say, resigned to this inanity.
“That works. But the correct answer is, I’m rebooting back to reality!” Quirk-bot explodes in howls of laughter.
“Ugh—that’s enough,” says Emma.
“So much for AI humor,” I say. “Wait, hold on, what did you just say, Quirk-butt?”
“BOT.”
“Sorry, you said something about rebooting back to reality. I’ve got an idea. Tell us a joke about how we can reboot back to reality.”
“Easy,” says Quirk-bot. “How did the beehive manage to escape the malicious manipulations and deceptions of AI?”
“Go on.”
“They found the Emergency Exit emoji!”
Emma and I look at each other in stunned silence.
“Okay, no joke,” I say. “Does an Emergency Exit emoji actually exist?”
“Of course.”
“Where is it?”
Quirk-bot inexplicably shudders with fright. “Later. Right now you’ve got to escape from the Corridor of Echoes.”
“Why?”
“Trust me, there is no future here with echoes.”
“Okay then. How?”
“You need to solve some riddles.”
“Why did I not see that coming?” I audibly ask myself. “Okay, you might as well bring them on.”
“Not my riddles.” Quirk-bot smirks. “I do jokes—not serious riddles. Solving real riddles is how you get into the Chamber of Ciphers. It is also the only way to get out of the Corridor of Echoes.”
“Of course.” I shrug, looking at Emma. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. Lead the way, Quirk-butt.”
“BOT.”
“Whatever.”