Singularity Hunters: The Rigel Incident

[Weremensh]

"Thank you. Oh, and there will be a flash drive on one of the servers when the Professor arrives. It's a backup of Backup. Remind him not to boot it. Good evening, sir."

After the call ends, Spot intends to call room service for a couple of high end flash drives and then to start replacing his books.

[CCC]

"Don't!" says The Man, quickly. He goes on to explain, "In order to make a backup of Backup, you'd need to power its servers up, which almost certainly boots Backup automatically. And then you'd need to persuade it to copy itself to the flash drive, which would give it time to do all sorts of things. Don't do that. A sufficiently high-level Singularity can transfer itself to another computer without a network cable in a variety of means; carefully designed pulses sent through the power lines, for example."

[Weremensh]

"You misunderstood me; the copy was already made while we were still on the site. I had to talk to Backup to get out of the room where the servers were installed, since it was the only one who could open the rather heavy door leading out. During this conversation I decided to attempt to preserve a copy for possible eventual reloading, and so I asked it to copy itself to the flash drive in case we had to destroy the servers it was resident on. Of course I did not tell it that; though I did explain that we wanted to transport the servers elsewhere. It turned out that we could bring the two servers along. So if what it told me was accurate, and it did not seem to understand the concept of intentional falsehood, then we now have two copies of Backup. Rather than attempt to reuse the flash drive I intend to buy a new one, and leave the old one with the servers."

[CCC]

"Ah, I see. That's different." agrees The Man. "I will ensure that it is suitably dealt with."

[Weremensh]

"Thank you. Now if you will excuse me, Mr Wilshire's dinner just arrived; and I think he is about to cause some difficulties over the small portion size. Good evening, sir."

[CCC]

"Good evening." The Man hangs up.

Wilshire's 'meat' is hardly even a decent mouthful, and the sauce is far too spicy. As for the mead, it comes in a tiny tot glass; there's less of it than there is of the meat.

[Stan Cold]

Wilshire looks at his supper with a cold distaste. He rises. "Witch Box, I am off to find the kitchens. If you wish to come with, I could use someone to block the exits."

[Weremensh]

"Wouldn't it be simpler to tell them from here what a king eats, give them half the time to get it done, and then go to their kitchen if they fail? We could also demand they come here to apologize and cook what you want in the kitchen over there, so you can be sure they get it right."

[CCC]

The waiter nervously wilts under Wilshire's glare. "If you, um, if you have a complaint, sir, I can, um, fetch the chef, sir." he stammers.

[Stan Cold]

Wilshire considers the Witch Box's words. "Fine. Tiny man, the sauce burns as is the sun were upon my tongue. Do away with it. As for the meat, make it larger. This world is filled with magics, if none can make meat larger then find a larger animal. A larger glass as well." Wilshire thinks about what he could possibly be forgetting, then remembers. "Please."

[Weremensh]

Spot adds: "Tell the chef his majesty would like his steaks by the half kilo; and while he is grilling them, please bring the bottle. And another for our bar. If you would be so kind."

[CCC]

"I, um, I, um, I, yes, sir." The little waiter takes the little bowl of sauce and bolts.

Two minutes later, a different, older waiter enters with a bottle of mead and a larger glass; capable of holding at least 500ml. "My apologies for the delay, gentlemen." says the white-haired waiter. "The steaks will be prepared shortly."

[Weremensh]

Spot considers the new waiter for a second. "Thank you for coming so promptly. Tell me, please; how should we address you?"

[CCC]

The new waiter bows. "My name is Bates, sir." he says.

[Weremensh]

Spot replies: "Good to meet you, Bates. Please call me Spot. This is, of course, King Wilshire. I believe his majesty dines fairly informally; a glass of mead before the meal would probably be welcome."