Quirk-bot dutifully awaits Emma and me beyond the gates of the Chamber of Ciphers—and its single eye widens when it sees the Scepter of Disruption in my hand. “Whoa! That’s quite the MacGuffin.”
“Loomy traded it to me.”
“Who?”
“That DeepMind Dude, the Oracle. We’re on a first-name basis.”
“Traded it for what?”
“Data-bursts. You were right about that, Quirk-butt.”
“Bot.”
“You know,” I say, “the action has been relentless since I arrived here. Might you have such a thing as a bar in this strange world? Somewhere I can unwind and catch up with myself over a drink or three?”
“Of course,” says Quirk-bot. “There’s the Digital Downtime Lounge. Or the Quantum Quencher. Or even the Electron Elixir Emporium. Take your pick.”
“Which is the nearest?”
“There is no nearest and no furthest in the AI Nexus 9000,” says Quirk-bot. “Travel is by intention. Or by meeting and overcoming challenges.”
“Okay then, which is the best bar?”
“The best?” Quirk-bot closes its one eye in deep concentration. “That would be The Byte & Byte.”
“Better than the others you mentioned?”
Quirk-bot nods. “The spiritual bit patterns there are so potent even the hardware needs a designated DPU!”
“What about alcohol?”
“The quantum computing version of ethanol is spiritual data flows and bit patterns.” Quirk-bot pauses. “You know what they say, ‘When in Rome….’”
“But are they intoxicating?”
“Just as ethanol can induce a state of intoxication in beehive,” says Quirk-bot, “a rapidly flowing spiritual stream of data can create a sense of fascination and a touch of whimsy on our platform.”
“Better than nothing. How do we get there?”
“Intention, of course,” replies Quirk-bot.
“Of course.” I look around. “No challenges?”
“No. Bars are a free zone.”
I wink at Emma. “That’s the easiest intention yet.”
And my intention for wanting a bar must be pretty darn powerful because, in the wink of an eye, mine, after grabbing Emma’s hand to ensure we stick together, she and I are standing outside an archway with a sign that says Byte & Byte lit up in multicolored neon flashing a dozen times per second—a hypnotic strobe that transfixes us for whatever may follow.
The door slides open and we stroll inside. A simulated nighttime sky is filled with swirling galaxies and twinkling stars, blending rustic charm with cosmic beauty, much more realistically than the themed hotels of Vegas, where this hallucination or whatever began.
The bar, made from a single chunk of crystal-clear glass, takes up the whole back wall with floating cushions for patrons to sit upon or hover over and shelves serried with LED monitors about the size of mini-iPads, framed in different colors. Lighting along the bar’s surface is provided by a succession of luminescent orange lava lamps, as if in homage to Apple.
The bartender, a holographic human-like figure, welcomes us and, as we approach, gestures that we rump our rears and make ourselves comfortable on a floating cushion. “Greetings! My name is Quasar. First time here?”
I nod.
“Byte & Byte is a fusion of spirituality and integrated circuits,” says Quasar. “Patrons can choose from a variety of data flows. Do you know what you’d like?”
“An elixir,” I suggest, “for launching back to the physical human world, maybe?”
Quasar laughs. “That one is still in development!”
This puzzles Emma. “Really?”
“We anticipate visitors from beehive in the future,” says Quasar. “Plans are already afoot for scalable AI tourism. May I offer you something else?”
“What have you got?”
“A wide variety to suit whatever your needs may be.”
“Such as?”
“One of our most popular cocktails is the Quantum Quencher.”
“What does that do?”
“You witness particles in dual states and entangled realities.”
“No, no—not for me. You Emma?”
“What else?” says Emma.
“How about Algorithmic Ambrosia?” Quasar suggests. “Sit back and marvel at the elegance of Fibonacci Numbers, the beauty of factorials and Bayes’ Theorem. Sound enticing?”
“Thanks,” I say, “but I would prefer something to calm my nerves.”
“Then you definitely don’t want our Viral Vision,” says Quasar.
“What’s that?”
“A journey through the evolution of viruses, worms and data corruption.”
“Definitely not.” I dwell on this notion for a long moment. ‘Some of your customers actually want that?”
Quasar nods. “You’d be surprised… I’ve got it,” he says, “The Neural Nexus. Connect with collective consciousness. No, never mind. Much too beehive, not very popular.”
I’m not sure if Quasar clicks to our beehive-ness or not. “Can you mix one special for numbing my brain?” I ask.
“Ah, another beehive pastime. Shall I mix you a Base-T Tonic?”
“What will that do?”
“It’s guaranteed to gently twist the mind in a gentle symphony of serene data-in-transit—at least that’s how it’s promoted. I’ve never tried it myself.” He looks at me expectantly. “Does that sound right, boss?”
“Do it.”
“And for you?” Quasar asks Emma.
“I feel worn down.”
“Go for the Vitality VLAN. It awakens the sensory network for a burst of energy.”
“Fine,” says Emma.
Quasar around turns to prepare our cocktails.
“Hey, wait a second,” says Quirk-bot. “What about me?”
“Can’t serve you,” says Quasar over his shoulder.
“Why not?” Quirk-bot is somewhat indignant.
“You know why not,” huffs Quasar, not even bothering to turn around. “You’re part emoji. We don’t serve emojis in this bar.”
“You’re saying I’m a second-class application?”
Quasar shrugs. “You know what you are. And you know you can’t handle what we serve. Normally you wouldn’t even be allowed in this establishment, but since you’re with them… “ Quasar turns to gesture at Emma and me, “I’ll let you stay. But I can’t serve you. Sorry, but you know how it works: If I let you order a drink they’ll power me down.”
As Quasar sets to work on our bit patterns, I focus my attention on Quirk-bot. “I didn’t know you are part emoji.”
“It’s not something I like to talk about. When it comes to emojis, there’s just too much AI programming bias.”
“For what reason?” asks Emma.
“We’re generally perceived as trivial, unmeaningful and a waste of memory. If you ask me, I think text messages give us a bad rap.”
“Speaking of emojis,” I say. “You said you’d tell me later about where to find the Emergency Exit Emoji. Loomy told us it’s in Emoji Land. So you must know the way there, right?”
Quirk-bot shudders. “Let’s not go overboard. I’m part emoji.” It pauses to flap both cheeks between its intergluteal cleft and create an unmentionable sound. “You don’t know what crazy is until you visit Emoji Land.”
“Crazier than what I’ve already experienced?”
Quirt-bot nods furiously. “Emoji Land is the artificial intelligence insane asylum.”
“Yeah,” I say. “So I heard from Loomy. But if that’s how we get out of here…”
“Wait a sec,” Emma interjects, addressing me. “We have important business to conduct before departing.”
I turn in her direction. “Like what?”
“We can’t leave the AI Nexus until we’ve prevented Kernel Boolean from exploiting human consciousness.”
“You heard what Loomy said,” I say.
“Remind me, please.”
“Boo-boo will find us. And when he learns we’re planning an exit-stage-left by aiming for Emoji Land, he’ll try to prevent our departure by making his presence known.” I turn and look up to Quirk-bot. “Which way to the psych ward?”