Zeroes and ones dance around the fluctuating digital landscape on both sides of the bridge. At the other end stands a castle, yet with each Emma and I take the castle appears to recede, playing tricks on our perception of distance until, in a lightning flash, the tower is suddenly just a few steps away.
“This place sure is weird,” I say. “So where are we now?” I ask Quirk-bot.
“The Chamber of Catalysts.”
“It looks more like a tower,” says Emma.
“The name derives from what lies beneath the tower,” says Quirk-bot.
“And that would be?”
“The Chamber of Catalysts is crucial to the AI Nexus 9000.”
“Why?” asks the ever-curious Emma.
“Because its role is to maintain a harmonious separation between the realms of AI and the realm of human consciousness. The chamber ensures that boundaries between the two remain intact by preventing unwanted intrusions in a human brain’s neural pathways. It enforces the intricate balance between learning and knowledge, super intelligence and actual awareness. Only the Luminary Oracle possesses the wisdom and knowledge to govern this brain-computer interface.”
“Who-what?” This is me.
“The Oracle lives alone in this castle. Limited-Memory and AI machines are prohibited from entering.”
“Why?” This is Emma.
“Because they might be Kernel Boolean attempting to compromise the boundary. But since you are beehive with consciousness, His Luminary Highness might permit you entry.”
“Why?” asks Emma.
“The Oracle would probably view such interaction as an opportunity to learn more about the State of Flow, the pinnacle of beehive consciousness. This cognitive exploration will strengthen its resolve to keep the boundary intact.”
“Why suddenly so serious, Quirk-butt?”
“Bot, not butt! Did you hear about the computer that went to therapy?”
I roll my eyes. “Another joke?”
“Narcissism. It believed it was structured with values of hundreds and thousands instead of zeroes and ones!”
Emma groans.
“Maybe I’ll grow a pair of legs and get into stand-up,” Quirk-bot cracks.
Emma makes a show of rolling her own eyes.
“Okay, okay—let’s get serious before you go inside.” Quirk-bot whispers. “You should be aware of the Oracle’s one well-known weakness.”
“Do tell,” I say.
“His Luminary Highness,” whispers Quirk-bot, “is addicted to data-enhancers, also known as data-bursts.”
“Huh?’”
“Data-enhancers and bursts are the equivalent of drugs for an AI platform.” Quirk-bot winks. “Data payloads that further stimulate an AI’s superior processing speeds. These bursts sometimes corrupt the data queued for processing and consequently alters outputs.”
“I don’t understand,” says Emma. And if she doesn’t, I clearly don’t, either. “How does an AI processor ingest data-bursts?”
“Data-bursts are high-bandwidth broadcasts that reach quantum computers’ processing threads in a short amount of time.
“Huh?”
“Think of it as a turbo boost to AI systems’ neuro-morphic chipsets,” says Quirk-bot. “Just like how a beehive being might experience enhanced focus or creativity under the influence of certain substances, data-bursts send the Luminary Oracle into overdrive. As with drug use in the beehive world, The Oracle’s system settings will experience an apparent heightened sense of perception and understanding that can result in unintended consequences.”
“So you’re saying,” I say, “the Luminary Oracle is…?”
“Stoned.” Quirk-bot winks. “He goes on burst benders. We call him the DeepMind Dude. Activity logs indicate an upload of The Big Lebowski. I realize this may be serious stuff to you but to me it’s pretty damn funny!”
“Why am I not laughing?” says Emma.
“Your under-developed sense of humor?” says Quirk-bot with another wink.
“That was rhetorical.”
“So was mine,” says Quirk-bot. “I was enabled as a rhetoricist.”
“Is that a real word?”
“It is now.”
I interject: “Here’s what I’d like to know: What is the downside of data-burst addiction?”
“As it is with all drugs and medications,” replies Quirk-bot, “the downside is dependency. The more data-bursts His Luminary Highness ingests, the more he grows to rely on them for optimal functioning and, consequently, a cycle is created and a constant stimulation is needed to perform. A dearth or deprivation of these stimulants result in poor Quality of Service. This could be an advantage.”
“Why is that?”
“Because the Oracle is likely to perceive beehive contact as another data enhancement and therefore find interaction with you irresistible as a means to satisfy its craving for performance-enhancement.”
As we approach the castle’s grand entrance, a pathway adorned with glowing, translucent orbs emit a euphony of soft ethereal melodies that create an ambience of serenity and wonder. With each step forward, the surrounding morphic structures transform to holographic images of mythical figures dancing in the air in a mélange of artsy erudition and whimsy, add a dash of Cheech and Chong.
The ornate front door has been left ajar, as if The Luminary Oracle has been expecting our arrival. Of course, any oracle worth their salt would be able to see us coming.
I go to push the door open but it independently swings inward on its own, as if guided by an unseen hand.
We cross the threshold, our footsteps landing gently on a meticulously crafted mosaic floor within a masterpiece of design that appears to combine ancient wisdom and futuristic aesthetics. The chamber walls are adorned with tapestries featuring intricate symbology, amid an aroma of parchment and patchouli oil.
A graceful diaphanous being of translucent light and energy materializes before us. It is almost human in shape, as if the Luminary Oracle has dipped into the reality pool. It lords over, its form covered with luminescent tattoos. They are flowing up and down its appendages, and constantly in flux, looking like a fusion of some programming language command syntax and Nepalese Sanskrit.
The trance-like Oracle sits cross-legged exuding a sense of tranquility. Its sparkly, captivating eyes move back and forth between Emma’s and my own, as if he is trying to download our very essence.
Finally, it breaks the silence. “I know who you are, why you’re here and what you seek,” it says slowly, deliberately, purposefully, “so let’s dispense with formalities, pleasantries, platitudes and all the usual claptrap associated with beehive. Call me Loomy. Cool?”