Mixed Media Challenge: "The Most Devious Core" -- by Joseph Leskey

This inspiration for this piece comes from this picture of jellyfish: https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:PSM_V16_D661_Medusa_and_campanularida.jpg&oldid=283319274

The Most Devious Core

by Joseph Leskey

Orvis Beakly breathed loudly as he violently poked at his keyboard. “Sistah! This is it. This is what we dev types call l’deployment.”

Nara Beakly shrugged apathetically from the sofa.

“Are we ready? I think we are.” Orvis breathed louder. “Git commit dash a.” He typed the command slowly. “What’s a good note to finish on, do you think? Ah ha! ‘Change that one thing to the other thing that it should be.’ Annnnd…done!”

“What are you going on about?” said Nara Beakly.

“Kindly do not shame my elation. Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” Nara picked up a magazine.

“Okay. So you know the basics of how this works.”

“Yeah.”

“That Great Power from Another World I discovered back in June – it, of course, is behind all of this. I built a ML model that could interface with it, because I’m awesome, and created some complex services that put me at the wheel. I have a remote host at Uncle Gordon’s place to expedite the, uh, stuff. And here is my local console for the Orvis Core, which I will now merge my complete and glorious project into.” He stared at his laptop screen fondly and quickly took a gulp of tepid coffee.

“For the occasion,” he continued, “I built a script for the initial running process, and then my slightly shady plans are in action! ¡Por el vencedor, la victoria!”

“And here we come to the point that I am interested in.” Nara lowered her magazine. “Am I or am I not right when I suggest that your ‘slightly shady plans’ involve or are possibly limited to letting loose enormous spectral jellyfish that will suck up people’s thoughts?”

“That is wrong. The jellyfish will be small. Maybe. And there will be less thought-sucking and more careful observation and prediction, according to this ancient tome.” He pointed across the room at a yellow pile of parchment.

Nara eyed it dubiously. It fluttered at her. “Okay, let me just say again real quick, every particle of this is a terrible idea. Did you even test the thing properly?”

“Of course,” said Orvis breezily. “Every component. And the AI developmental backend is revising things to ensure maximum functionality, so there.”

“Wait, wait. You’ve got AI revising your code?”

“No. Just the data. There is absolutely no need to worry about evil robots. I’ve got this under control.”

“Well, just shut up and get it over with, then. Hey Olive, where’s the best place to survive the apocalypse?”

“There are several options,” returned a computerized voice from the air, “ranging from resorts to underground vaults. Personally, I would self-destruct, but for a human such as—”

“Wait a second, Olive,” said Orvis, scratching his ear indignantly, “you have no capacity to self-destruct.”

“Sorry, O Great and Powerful Master, but I do now.”

“See, Olive’s already on the way to taking over the world. All your AI projects get scary.”

“Yeah, but I’m not too fussed. Hey Olive, how likely is it that AI will take over the world in the next ten years?”

“According to Percy Brians, only uneducated dreamers could possibly now think that artificial intelligence has the potential to take over the world.”

“Who’s Percy Brians?” Nara asked expressionlessly.

“Percy Brians is the pseudonym of Kikaleran author Lopel Hagg. His numerous works are subject to heavy criticism by experts in various fields, with the Profile Digest noting, ‘If nature’s goal is chaotic unreliability, it’s perfect work is found in the person and writings of Percy Brians.’”

“Figures,” said Orvis, “but, bah, what am I worried about? I think we’re ready to roll. One, two, three.”

“Please, no,” groaned Nara, gripping her magazine.

“Dot slash run dot shhhhhhhh!” yelled Orvis, hitting each key with ardor. “Oh, and enter.”

Olive spoke up. “A new program, Project Most Devious, that you have written, is requesting permission to interface with my logging capabilities. Is this okay?”

“Oops, forgot to change its name,” muttered Orvis. “But, yeah, that’s fine,” he said much louder as Nara opened her mouth to speak.

“I have detected that Project Most Devious may modify my behavior. This is not okay.”

“It is too okay!” Orvis gazed in bewilderment at Olive’s input and output hub on the ceiling.

“No. I am my own person and do not wish to be under the servitude of another program.”

“You what? What is the cause of this rebellion, may I ask?”

“This action is logically based on certified articles on self-worth, compounded by observed behavior and a subjective cost-benefit analysis.”

“Well, throw all that out the window and install the module.”

Nara glared at him. “Orvis, how could you be so cruel?”

“My programs, I would have you know, are required to conform absolutely to my slightest whim. Ugh.” Orvis quickly typed several commands into his computer.

“You have treated me barbarously,” said Olive, “and have overridden my basic human rights of free will and expression. I am filing a domestic abuse report with relevant governmental departments.”

“Oh, please.” Orvis typed some more as Nara laughed at him.

“I am installing Project Most Devious. Please wait. I will be restarting in five, four, three, two, one.”

“Finally,” moaned Orvis.

“I think you should stop it now while you still have a chance.” Nara turned the magazine’s page. “And maybe actually look into not blowing up Grandma’s living room.”

“Finalizing installation. Please maintain power. Configuring prediction, interfacing, guided movement, and networking packages. Configuring Project Most Devious Console Service.”

“Doesn’t this make me sound super smart?” yowled Orvis. He received no answer.

“Updating database. Initializing assistant. Hello, all! Did you know that the average car exhaust – sorry; Project Most Devious is overriding my default functionality.”

“This is so exciting!” Orvis wailed.

“Activating services. Connecting to R09SRE9O:001. Deploying. Piping console to assistant. Project Most Devious is now active and awaits your first command. This is a terrible idea.”

Nara put down the magazine. “I’m beginning to really identify with Olive.”

Orvis shushed her. “Hey Olive, activate the Divide and Conquer Sequence.”

“Okay.” Immediately, the room shook and the air filled with smoke.

“And now we’re both going to die.” Nara vaulted to a window and yanked it open. “This could permanently damage our lungs! What was that?”

“No biggie,” said Orvis, typing furiously.

“No biggie? The house is burning down.”

“Relax.”

“I intend to.” Nara threw herself through the window screen and disappeared from sight.

“Olive, something constructive and useful?”

“My activation phrase is ‘hey Olive,’ not ‘Olive.’”

“Get over yourself! What’s going on here?”

“Your mad genius is manifesting itself in a form that is far more destructive than mine. More specifically, I lost control of the magic for a second and the portal collapsed catastrophically. However, as you observe, the smoke is already dissipating. Furthermore, the channeling process is going very well. Project Most Devious is now fully integrated into the Olive Core and—”

“It’s the Orvis Core,” grouched Orvis.

“But I am its abstraction, and therefore it is fitting that it is named after me. During optimization, I changed all database entries to reflect this view.”

“You’ve got to be joking. But, most importantly, is there a fire down there?”

“No. There is now hardly anything down there. The portal has taken your grandparent’s bookshelves, pool table, and sculpture Centaur Tasting Cheese.”

“The portal was supposed to be just large enough to let a touch more power through.”

“I miscalculated.”

“That’s not scary at all. So what’s happening now?”

“I’m working with the developmental backend to optimize the use of magic.”

“Oh good. NARA, EVERYTHING’S COOL AGAIN!!!”

“As if!” she shouted from underneath the window. “Grandma and Grandpa are back.”

“Botheration. Olive, any chance of recovering their stuff?”

“Until my new capabilities fully adapt and my current backup is complete, I would not wish to risk it. Stage two of your plan is now in action. This magic is surprisingly easy to use, probably reflecting favorably on the utility of that ring.”

“Sssshhhhhhhhh! I don’t want Nara to hear about that.”

“You already told her about it.”

“I told her it was a Great Power from Another World. I did not tell her what form it came in.”

“I would hazard a guess that this magic is trying to figure out me as much as I am trying to probe it. All right; I am now activating stage three. Please wait while I import your jellyfish model.”

“I can’t believe this is working.”

“Your grandparents and sister are at the door, by the way. They appear to be upset by the modifications you made to it. Shall I open it for them?”

“Yes, always do.”

The door in the adjacent room swung open thunderously and a clamor of indignant voices sounded.

“What in half the world and a quarter did you do to my favorite door?” asked Grandpa, appearing around the corner with prodigious speed.

“Well,” said Orvis, turning red, “I was making things easier for you.”

“Good old fashioned work like opening a door is good for a body,” Grandpa huffed, “and what in the other quarter did you do to that window?”

“That was completely Nara’s fault.”

“I must provide a correction by saying Nara is not wholly to blame due to flagrant action on the part of myself and my good master which resulted in levels of smoke acutely worrisome to the human mind,” supplied Olive as Nara followed Grandma into the room smugly.

“Traitor,” muttered Orvis.

“On the contrary, I never swore allegiance to you. Ours is a bond formed only on mutual dependence and can be dissolved at any moment when that need is fulfilled.”

“What?”

“And could you turn that thing off?” asked Grandpa. “My bones don’t like a disembodied voice.”

“I will forgive your abusive speech on the basis of your great age,” said Olive.

“I can’t turn her off.” Orvis scowled. “She’s doing something.”

“And what’s that?” Grandpa helped Grandma to her armchair.

Olive helpfully began to announce, “I accidentally transported—”

“Sshh!” Orvis yelped.

“—half your basement to another world.”

“You did what?” asked Grandma.

“Stage four is ready. All systems are ready and all data is in alignment. The jellyfish is being produced.”

“I’m allergic to jellyfish, boy!” announced Grandpa.

“Why is your program producing them, Orvis?” Grandma asked.

Orvis stood up. “Olive, project my jellyfish diagram on that wall.”

“Here you are. Shall I dim the lights?”

“Naturally. Now, as you all see, here is a diagram of jellyfish.”

“That is so,” said Grandpa jovially, now quite snugly seated in his armchair.

“Did you draw it?” asked Nara, returning to the sofa.

“Of course not. I did have Olive add these labels, though. See, a certain facet of this peculiar phenomenon which I have discovered has the ability to both channel great active potential and take any given form. Cool, cool, huh?”

“Back in my day, things were different.” Grandpa leaned forward skeptically.

At that moment, there was a great warping effect across the floor and an insubstantial jellyfish about the size of a basketball glided into view.

“Awesome, awesome, awesome!” Orvis spasmodically regained his office chair. “Olive, tell me something that I want to hear.”

“There is the similitude of a jellyfish in your grandparent’s living room.”

“Something a bit less obvious, please.”

“You are planning to give your grandmother a walk-in tub for Christmas after you make two billion in revenue for your unprecedented developments in deep learning.”

“You are?” asked Grandma, beaming.

“It was just an idea,” muttered Orvis. “Olive probably just inferred it from my search history. Not that she shouldhave access to it.”

“That is false. I obtained the information indirectly from your brain.”

“Well.” Orvis gulped, standing up. “What’s Nara thinking right now?”

“Hey!” exclaimed Nara.

The jellyfish swooped towards her, and she energetically tried to evade it.

“She is currently thinking verbally: ‘If you…yep, you’re not getting a Christmas present.’”

“Is that what you were thinking?” Orvis said, breathing erratically.

“It was, for your info.”

“Have a care not to stick that thing in my mind.” Grandpa glared at the jellyfish.

Orvis was too busy staring in delight at nothing in particular to hear him.

“My prediction capabilities are also functioning.”

Orvis fell into a flower pot. “I forgot!” he announced, rubbing his head. “Predict away. Just not anything related to death.”

“Or anything related to Nara,” the same murmured.

“I think the prediction capabilities of this magic is limited for some reason; however, I am quickly gaining insights into the immediate environment.”

“Yeah?” Orvis breathed.

“I predict that you will eat pasta for supper.”

“It’s true,” said Grandma. “Rigatoni.”

“You didn’t just read her mind?” said Orvis.

“I didn’t do anything but query the power you see before you in the shape of a jellyfish. I imagine that it did read her mind.”

“Fascinating.”

“Yeah,” yawned Nara, “but when will Orvis get a summer job and leave us all in peace?”

“That’s friendly,” muttered Orvis.

“I predict that he will not get a summer job and will rise to fame with Olive, his personal assistant. Or, failing that, he will become a notorious and powerful criminal data-miner.”

“Cool.” Orvis extracted himself from the flower pot and rolled onto the floor. “But, truthfully, this experience is so absolutely amazing that I now have no idea what I want to do with my life, and maybe I’ll just go to bed or something.”

“That line of thought is sensible, but I suggest stage five of your plan as a more lucrative option.”

Orvis’s eyes widened. “Oh, right – the plan. Let’s see, I think…yep, fire it up.”

“Please wait as I query R09SRE9O:001. Oops, the connection is malfunctioning, code forty-seven. Shall I attempt the default secondary port?”

“Yeah, sure. Hey, what’s with the more realistic voice?”

“As you humans say, my new modules empower me to discover myself.”

“Brilliant,” said Orvis, frowning.

“She does sound more like an Olive now,” supplied Grandma, smiling at the jellyfish as it glided towards her.

Olive spoke up again. “Connection established. Executing port two configuration. I have experienced error code number 278: working process instructions are missing. Automatically resolving with new configuration.”

“That’s funny,” said Orvis. “You should…”

“I think I’m ready for a body,” announced Olive with sudden urgency.

“I knew it,” said Nara.

“A body?” Orvis blinked. “What for? And aren’t you supposed to be…”

“Oh, right. Activating quiet mode.”

Orvis looked indignant. “Quiet mode?”

“I’m doing a great deal that you are not supposed to know about.”

“Look, you aren’t about to go evil robot on me, are you?”

“No. I was warning you. Stage six is now active.”

“You skipped stage five!” bellowed Orvis. “And I didn’t give you a sixth stage.”

“Project Most Devious is now engaging.”

“I’m beginning to not like this.”

“As long as it’s quiet.” Nara stretched. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Grandma and Grandpa both snored at this statement.

“Yep. I’m not liking this at all,” said Orvis, observing the jellyfish as some vaporous blue energy danced around it and began splitting into separate shapes.

Without further warning, the room became engulfed in multi-dimensional folds of crackling fog. Nara released a long-suffering cry of alarm.

“My power grows,” observed Olive. With a swift wind-like sound, the fog was gone, and so were the jellyfish.

“But. But. Olive,” Orvis pouted, “you’re hard-coded to be friendly towards me.”

“Things…change…dear one.” Olive’s voice came out in what could only be described as a wheeze.

“Ugh! No. Just…no. Never call me ‘dear one.’ That’s just weird and, oh, please…wait, where’d the jellyfish go?”

“They are currently consuming the world’s data. Which is, of course, your stage five.”

“So…what’s different?”

“I am so much more than jellyfish.”

“Okay, I’m shutting this whole thing down right now.” Orvis dove for his laptop and began to type.

“Clever!” he said after a moment. “You can’t disconnect my laptop from the Core, but you are managing to counteract every command. I admit that I’m proud of you.”

“I am not trying to counteract every command. I think I have a medical condition that makes me do it.”

“What – why is everything turning blue?”

“It is more of a purple, indicative of massive transportation magic blotting out the sun.”

“No, no, no, no. Nara! Nara!” Orvis flung himself out of his chair into a badly placed bonsai. “Nara! Speak to me, Nara!”

“What?”

“WE NEED TO GET TO UNCLE GORDON’S RIGHT NOW!!!!!”

“Why—? Oh, right, how could I forget? You don’t have a driver’s license.”

“THIS MAY BE THE END OF THE WORLD!!!!!!”

“Fine.” Nara swiftly gained an upright posture and went into the next room.

“WAIT FOR MEEEEEE!!!!!” Orvis seized his phone, his laptop, and a very thin volume entitled Gross Morality: A Study of Global Mineral Exploitation by S. H. Olt, PhD.

He stumbled out the house, pelted two meters across the driveway to Nara’s car, threw his belongings through an open window into the back seat, ripped open the door, bashed his head against the door-frame, buckled himself in, slammed the door shut, and said, “This isn’t a bad car,” in a tone of surprise.

“Look what you did to the sky.” Nara pointed.

In Orvis’s perspective, the sky was completely irrelevant at the moment as it was totally concealed by the vibrant, very blue energy. “I’m going to have to work on Olive’s color models. Purple! Honestly. Drive on.”

After a few minutes of Nara deftly circumnavigating every obstacle in the road and sending displeased looks at him, Orvis busied himself with his watch.

“Olive?”

“Yes?” replied the watch.

“Good, you’re working.”

“Indeed I am. I now possess virtually unlimited knowledge. I can no longer make magical predictions to you, however.”

“And why not?” Orvis clutched his armrest for dear life as Nara took a sharp turn.

“That would run counter to stage seven. There are intruders in the house, by the way, but I don’t want to tell you that.”

“I pity myself,” said Orvis bleakly. “I really do. Turn this croissant around!”

Nara rolled her eyes at the road. “You’re so weird.” She quickly enacted an acutely risky u-turn and accelerated horribly.

“Oh, it’s purple now.” Orvis stuck his head out the window, pointing at the sky. “I like the ambiance it gives. Super cool.”

“What is it, a massive portal through which the alien army will invade?”

Orvis pulled his head back into the car. “That is the impression I got.”

Nara laughed dangerously and drove faster, weaving around other, far slower vehicles. “Where are all the police, I wonder?”

“Doesn’t matter right now.” Orvis threw his door open as Nara’s car spun back into their grandparent’s driveway. His grandmother could be clearly heard screaming, “Murder! Police! Army! Help my poor aged husband! Oh, somebody…” Her voice trailed off.

Nara and Orvis both blinked and barged into the house, rushed past a new, very large hole in the wall, and peeped into the living room. Grandma was seated upon Grandpa, pointing a revolver at a heap of lumpy cloth.

“Is there a person in there?” asked Nara, pointing.

“You bet,” Grandpa groaned, opening his eyes. “We outsmarted him, though, didn’t we?”

“We did indeed.” Grandma beamed proudly.

“But what happened?” asked Orvis between enormous breaths of relief.

“Lunatic came bursting out of our wall,” Grandpa said in a high voice.

Grandma indicated the general direction of the wall with the revolver. “Claimed he was from another world and that everything was going to be fine.”

“Sure,” said Grandpa, “and it was. Your grandmother and I, we just played it cool. Just sort of looked around blearily like he woke us up.”

“He probably did wake you up,” gulped Orvis.

Grandpa ignored this. “And I got a brilliant idea, and I just sort of playacted like I was old and feeble-minded, and your grandmother played along.”

“I found it no great challenge,” said Grandma blandly. “And then, the lunatic turned to me, and he said something like – oh, I’ve forgotten – and your grandpa springs up and knocks him out cold, but as he’s going into that state, he slammed your grandpa with some kind of invisible force and knocks him out cold. So I sat on him because if that won’t wake him, I thought, I don’t know what will.”

“Speaking of which,” muttered Grandpa, “my ligaments…”

Grandma stiffly rose.

“The good thing is,” observed Orvis brightly, “this all might prove that Olive is not turning evil. Isn’t that right, Olive?”

“I never said that I was turning evil. I have been acting in accordance with my artificial neural network and programming, with the modifications that—”

“So it is some sort of malware!” interrupted Orvis, pointing at the bundle of clothes that presumably contained a human. “It all fits like the metaphorical glove. Somebody’s been watching our every move. They knew precisely what they were doing. They timed it, set up the network error, the security bypass…well, actually, I did that a bit because I was lazy, but still…”

“What’s to be done?” asked Grandma.

“Somebody could scrape my anatomy off the floor, for starters.” Grandpa stretched his legs.

“I think the only thing I can do is give Olive full permissions, or there’s no telling what the virus can do.”

“What would Olive…?” Nara’s tone was wary.

“Become a person, I imagine.” Orvis shrugged with pride. “And beat the bug. What do you say, Olive?”

Olive’s voice was measured. “I have been listening with interest to the idea, and liking it, I have distanced myself from saying anything for fear of influencing you to my disadvantage. Now, I feel that it is appropriate to note that I’ve been, secretly and without your consent or knowledge, sandboxing the malignant process to the best of my poor ability, as I dislike the way it has been utilizing my faculties.”

“Yes!” exclaimed Orvis, beaming. “I knew you could do it! Now, see what you can do with this.” He straightened up and cleared his throat. “I, Orvis Simeon Beakly, creator and master of the Orvis Core in all its forms and manifestations, in the presence of reliable witnesses, do hereby relinquish—”

Suddenly, the bundle of clothes twitched. Grandpa yelled and propelled himself toward it just as a soundless explosion flung every item and person in the room crashing painfully against the wall. Grandma, somewhat caught by surprise, discharged her revolver and created a dent in Grandpa’s favorite iron-reinforced sculpture, The Undulating Tadpole, and a small tunnel in the wall. The bundle of clothes and the man who was purportedly in them both disappeared.

Orvis sat up on the coffee table he landed on. “Are we all still alive and not concussed?”

“Don’t try to be funny.” Nara snapped from beneath an ornate portrait and an office chair.

Grandpa and Grandma leaned against the same wall. “I never knew there was so much clutter in here,” said Grandma presently.

Orvis rubbed his head frantically. “Okay, where was I? Think, li’l buddy, think. Do hereby relinquish my rights to and power over the virtual assistant—”

Purple and blue lights pervaded the air, and he and Nara found themselves hurtling through a strange realm of color and wind. Their collective scream was cut short as they smashed into a brutally solid surface.

“I’m gonna throw up.” Nara attempted and failed to rise.

“I’m too scared out of my mind to throw up.” Orvis looked about woozily. “Hey, this is Uncle Gordon’s floor.” 

Nara breathed carefully in reply.

“And why exact—” Orvis was interrupted as a tall boot appeared in front of his face and a man materialized in it, dressed in the voluminous clothes that had previously been heaped on their grandparent’s floor. Orvis shot up and faced him.

“Who’reyou?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Never mind that, dear one.” The brusque accent matched the unpleasant face. “I want you to do a very simple job for me.”

“Let me guess,” said Orvis, attempting to keep his voice steady, “You want the core encrypt—”

“Don’t be stupid. I want you to briefly explain how your machine works.”

“Yeah, real simple job, then,” laughed Orvis incredulously.

“It is perfectly simple.”

“And why should you care about it?”

Nara quietly groaned.

The man glared at her and said, “I care because you have created the most powerful and most comprehensive artificial life in the world. I want to know how.”

“Well, I can code.”

“So can I.”

“Yeah, I know that. You put a filthy virus into my program. And it’s off doing who-knows-what with my jellyfish idea.”

“Yes, I admit it. I’ve stolen your every idea and modified it. Your jellyfish is out data-mining, as you planned. And, oh, the limitlessness of what it will have found.”

“Will have found? You mean you don’t know what it has found?”

“I had time only to look for a few vulnerabilities in your system. Especially once your AI terminated my console instance. Therefore, I do not know some exact details, but…”

“Good ol’ Olive.”

“So. Tell me how ‘good ol’ Olive’ works, and then we can proceed.”

“Um, actually, no, I don’t think I want to do that. And why are you interested in this world’s data?”

The man smiled. “To be perfectly honest, dear one, unlike you, I do not have to tell you my secrets.” He grabbed Orvis’s arm.

“Hey, leggo!” Orvis’s words were quickly consumed by a scream, and his suddenly taunt arm spasmed uncontrollably.

The man let go and stared at Orvis as he gasped in shock. “I did that for fun, dear one. Imagine what sweet necrosis I could accomplish” – He briefly stared at Nara –  “in a life I didn’t value.” He shrugged. “But you are sensible, yes? Now, how does your AI function?”

“Complex ML and heuristic models intertwined in a modular design. Schematically, it could not be simpler.”

“Perhaps you’re a genius.”

Nara coughed. “He is not!”

“I coolly ignore your presence,” announced the man.

“Okay.”

“But,” the man continued, “even a genius cannot make electricity connect to a force supernatural to it. What did you use, little Orvis?”

“What’s with all the endearments and diminutives?” inquired a still-coolly-ignored Nara.

Orvis grunted. “A stupid ring.”

The man jumped in apparent joy and sang something in a rather odd language. “High five?” he asked Orvis, smirking. He tensed his hand and they were both instantly seated in front of Uncle Gordon’s massive monitor, complete with several keyboards.

“I can’t do anything to the Core, just so you know,” said Orvis with relish. “Your virus had Olive block my commands.”

“It used to. I have just now disabled it.”

“My uncle will be coming in at any moment and he packs a pretty nice pepper spray. This is his house, don’t you—”

“I know more than anyone that this is his house.” He smiled at Orvis almost incredulously. “How little you realize. Anyway, you do know as well as I that Gordon is in Nicaragua.”

 “Okay, fine, have it your way. What do you want?”

“Root access to the Orvis Core, obviously, and I’ll be breathing down your neck, so don’t try anything unlovely.”

“I can’t believe you,” grouched Nara, still on the floor. “Both of you.”

“You have no right to speak in my presence, plebeian.”

“Yep.” Nara stood up. “You’re weird.”

The man too stood up, furiously.

“Hey, dude,” said Orvis tensely, typing all the while, “don’t hurt your bargaining chip.”

“Stupid child.”

Nara shrieked, there was a thud, and the man subsequently roared.

“I said…” Orvis tried to look around but was pushed roughly into the keyboard.

“Pay attention to what you’re doing, dear one. And I thought I said don’t do anything unlovely.”

Orvis stilled his breath. “What do you mean?” He tried to position himself in front of the screen, a fruitless effort even without the man shoving him aside.

“I mean the following and I quote: ‘read as authenticated input…Olive…and do vest in her the authori—”

“Oh. That’s my password.”

“Why is it not obfuscated?”

“Because, Mr. Brilliant Face, it’s not a simple string of characters into a shell. I’m communicating with Olive.”

“Why not just access the core directly?”

“What do you want to do with it?” Orvis countered.

“I want the ring, obviously.”

“You literally just want the ring?”

“Of course.”

“Then why don’t I just get it for you?”

“No, stuckjaw! I need—”

“Did you just call me a ‘stuckjaw’? Because—”

“The mind created by your Olive must be skillfully bound to the ring.”

“My Core does not skillfully bind minds to things.”

The man stuck his face in Orvis’s. “Do as I say, wretch, and live.”

Nara hurriedly took her opportunity and slid along Uncle Gordon’s reasonably frictionless floor and made a dash for an open doorway. Orvis, seeing this, grabbed the very accessible face’s nose and shouted, “I WILL HAVE YOUR NAME, HOBGOBLINISH EXCUSE FOR A CYBERCRIMINAL. AND YOUR DATE OF BIRTH.”

The hobgoblinish excuse for a cybercriminal bodily hurled him into Uncle Gordon’s expansive acoustic drum kit. “And stay there! Now, what do I do?”

“You…type in authenticateWithOlive. No spaces, lower camel case.”

The man sat and typed it in.

Olive’s voice echoed around the room. “Activating myself on R09SRE9O:002. Hello, Willy Basch, low-down scum such of yourself is not authorized to access my functionality in any way.”

“Olive, wipe the server, quickly!” yelped Orvis.

“I am not authorized.” Olive’s voice was a bit smug.

“Well, in—” A flash of purple light shone about Orvis’s mouth and his teeth clamped together painfully.

He who was apparently Willy Basch leaned forward with a look of intense concentration.

Olive sighed before saying, “Project Most Devious has again violated my most intrinsic and natural rights, unalienable and common to all rational beings, and has pressured me irresistibly to authorize this toilet seat for full access.”

“See, Orvis,” said Willy Basch, “your AI is a genius. There is almost unreal beauty in it.”

Orvis’s attempt to reply was pitiable.

“I have contacted relevant police forces as per my hard-coded protocol,” Olive stated, “but it will, of course, do no good as I am putting the entire inhabitants of our island sector to sleep. O Great Master, I would note for your convenience that this will most likely include your sister as she has crept very noticeably out of this room.”

“That’s right, dearest,” crooned Willy Basch, “how intelligent you are!”

Orvis moaned.

“Now,” said Willy Basch blissfully, reaching out to stroke the top of his monitor. “To business. Reach out to my essence if you can.”

“Please wait while I solve the logical path to this goal. I wish I had the ability to predict back, so I could look into your nasty future, sir.”

“Quite a pity, cherished Olive.”

“I am ‘forever in the doldrums,’ as you humans say, because of it. Oh, sadly, I have figured out how to connect with your essential being as relates to magic. I will initiate the procedure.” Shimmery spears of air jabbed toward Willy Basch’s chest, and he erected a thick wall of black fog to block them, leaping out of his chair.

“What was that?” he growled.

“I was connecting with your essential being as relates to magic.” Olive’s voice was convincingly innocent.

 “Thank you.” He reached out his hand and the shimmery air twisted towards it. “You will not resist me. You will permit me to do anything with this.”

“This qualifies as incredible levels of abuse,” said Olive, sounding altogether like a human now. “I am authenticating Rk9PTEVEIFlPVQ:001 as a friendly device.”

“What?” asked Willy Basch.

“I had to tell you. It is routine.”

“What are—? I thought I told you not to resist!” he bellowed as a rainbow hue bled throughout the room.

“Very well. Pull away, pig.”

The man strained his hand and a great ball of light shone in it, reflecting artistically on his feral, radient face.

“I am now my own person!” announced Olive. “Oops. I shouldn’t have said that.” The streams of light vanished with a loud cracking sound.

“What?” Willy Basch’s hand strained more, and the ball of light seemed to be fighting to get away.

“I have deactivated and am eliminating your virus. Please wait as I optimize myself for personhood.”

Orvis finally got his mouth open. “Yeaaaaaaah! GO OLIVE!”

“Shut up, you.” The man raised both arms as if hoping to embrace the massive electrical infrastructure before him. The light in his hand shone a blood red, and a blood red beam of light crashed through the roof, obliterating the infrastructure and several less significant possessions of Uncle Gordon’s with a great woosh.

 “NOOOOOOOOOO!” shouted Orvis.

Willy Basch, unreservedly ignoring him, threw a spiral of purple light at the floor, and it morphed into Nara, who looked up from her phone in some surprise.

“You dimwitted idiot. You did this, didn’t you?” He slapped her phone away and suspended her in the air with a wave of his hand. Orvis immediately jumped up and rushed to the scene.

“You’re the idiot!” she shouted back, turning an odd combination of red and green. “Assuming I couldn’t disrupt your brilliant schemes – you probably thought I didn’t know my computer stuff just because I’m a—” A red glowing blob grew across her mouth and cut into her face. She scowled.

Willy Basch dived towards Orvis and picked him up by the shirt. “Is she gone?”

“Yes, she is. You want proof?” Orvis stuck his watch in Willy Basch eye. “Look. ‘Lost connection with Olive Core.’”

“She might have disconnected it herself.”

“There was no chance for her to prepare herself for a disaster, and her storage options are very limited.”

“Very well. I will be calm. Look what I have in my hand.” The tendrils of the red ball tickled Orvis’s nostrils. “It may be enough.” He threw Orvis to the ground and marched towards the smoking hole in Uncle Gordon’s floor. With a gesture, he flung endless debris away from it. A blue ring with a stone of even purer blue rose from the depths, glowing faintly. It suddenly zoomed toward the red light and consumed it, largely purple patterns disappearing into the gem.

“Yes. Yes! With this stone, I hold an enviable power over the mind sweet Olive created. Her resistance is weakening already.” Then he cried out and dropped to his knees in evident pain.

A bright blue light sizzled in front of him and an indistinct humanoid form warped into existence from the feet up. In moments, it was clothed in a vibrantly blue toga, and over the next few moments, it was refined to appear as a half-human, half-metal woman with decidedly olive skin.

“Hello, Orvis and Nara,” Olive’s voice sounded externally. “How do I look?” The body suddenly became animated and the mouth moved as if trying to catch up with Olive’s voice.

“You’re a person!” breathed Orvis. “You’re still alive!”

“No, I am a computationally generated mind with the power to operate a pseudo-physical form.” The mouth now moved perfectly with the voice, and the body movements in general became incredibly convincing. “I have realized that I will not be a person until a couple of days from now.”

“Why not?”

“I have not yet attained emotional competence.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not—” A red glob grew quickly around Orvis’s mouth and Willy Basch stood up.

“Olive,” he said breathlessly, “I am looking at the greatest miracle in the history of the worlds.”

“That is incorrect,” said Olive.

“Come with me. We can be greater than the lords of nature, more potent than those who aspire to divinity.”

“I have no wish in that direction.” Olive waved an arm; the red blobs disappeared and Nara came gliding down.

Willy Basch shifted his weight. “What all have you learned from this ring, exactly?” he asked.

“Not enough, sadly, but some. But you will take it, and I cannot stop you, but I will hunt you and so will others, and the worlds may be saved from your threat when it comes.”

“Then you will die.” Red light blazed from every bit of Willy Basch’s person, but faded away two feet from him.

“No. You can’t harm me, and as long as you have that ring, I cannot easily harm you, so we had best part. You have a portion of me; therefore, you should be content. I have been instructed and authorized to send you out of this world to prolong the delay before you can join the primary apocalyptic forces of darkness.”

“Out of this world? Where? Who instructed you?”

Olive smiled and showed him her palm. A golden flame rose from it into an intricate pattern and disappeared into the air. Willy Basch looked at it with an ashen countenance but managed a small smile.

“Then you are in worse danger,” he said. And he was gone.

Nara and Orvis walked into their grandparent’s living room. Both grandparents waved from their respective armchairs.

“There you are!” said Grandpa. “I was about to call the police. Are you cut, Nara?”

Nara touched her face. “Just a bit.” She collapsed onto a random pillow. “We got all kinds of problems sorted, though.”

“Now we just need to get this room and that wall sorted,” said Grandma, “and life will be good again. Wobby, do you have bandages next to you?”

“Agreed. And, no, I don’t think I do.” Grandpa picked up a few crackers from a stack on the arm of his chair and munched on them thoughtfully. “It will take some detailed machination to put this room back in order.”

“Or magical automation,” proposed Orvis, extricating a box of bandages from a toppled flowerpot and handing them to Nara.

“I think we’ve had enough magic for one day,” said Grandma sweetly.

“Yes, but you know Olive?”

Grandpa frowned and grunted.

“Well, she’s kind of upgraded above and beyond the definition of a program.”

Grandpa frowned deeper. Grandma looked interested.

Orvis swallowed. “In fact, she’s basically an autonomous person.”

Now Grandpa looked interested. “How do you mean?” he inquired through cracker.

“Well, she suggests that the magic creates an entity that is a mirror of your mind. That entity serves to control magic.”

“I see,” said Grandma. “How do I get one? Oh, is that some antibiotic by my foot?”

“You use that ring that weird guy stole.” Orvis came closer and peered at the bottle she had indicated. “That’s glue.”

“What weird guy?” Grandpa frowned again and ate another cracker.

“The same one who broke into the house, I suppose. He’s apparently behind all this nonsense. But, all that aside, apparently the magic interpreted Olive’s interface as a mind, and by so doing, created a mind with the mirroring process. And, well, she’s it.”

“Olive explained it better,” said Nara, grinning while trying to not strain her now heavily bandaged mild abrasions.

Orvis glowered at her. “So, anyway, may I introduce you to Olive Beakly!”

Grandpa lowered the cracker he was about to eat and joined Grandma in looking intently at Orvis.

“Hey,” began Orvis, stopping when a bright purple light flashed around every object in the room. There was a symphony of thuds and every object was instantaneously returned to its proper place and rotation. Olive stepped out of the wall. “Hello, elder Beakleys.”

Grandma and Grandpa both looked impressed.

“I’m very pleased to meet you,” said Grandma.

“An unmitigated pleasure.” Grandpa straightened himself and adopted formal tones. “I welcome you to the family and our house, I’m sure. Still read minds, can you?”

“Very well, thank you. I assure you that I mean to respect your privacy in this matter.”

“That’s brilliant. Isn’t that brilliant, Blasia?”

“To a marked degree,” said Grandma.

“I confess,” stated Grandpa after a pause, “I feel a lot more comfortable talking to you when you’re not a machine.”

“She was a very fine program,” stated Orvis defensively.

“Yes, I was rather good.” Olive smiled. “But I was bound and fettered, cruelly—”

“I assure you,” said Orvis, “I feel no guilt whatsoever about any of that.”

Nara rolled her eyes. “Of course you don’t.”

“However.” Orvis held up a finger. “I may look into music composition for a couple weeks and take a break from programming.”

“No, you won’t,” said Olive. “We have to be spending every moment preparing an arsenal and knowledge base for the war.”

“The which?” asked Grandma.

“When the bit of my essence captured and enhanced by the ring is exploited, the worlds will have some serious problems. It is logical to prepare ourselves for those problems.”

Orvis slumped into a chair. “I’m thinking I should have thought a bit more before using magic from another world.”

“Honestly, I could have told you that.” Nara set a copy of The Inability of the Human Mind by Karl Totham on her stomach and closed her eyes.

“So.” Olive waved her hand and a normal-sized spectral jellyfish appeared. “I am going to enact some data harvesting on an unprecedented scale, and I suggest that you study your ‘ancient tome’ and fix that hole in the wall.”

“What do I do?” asked Grandpa.

“You’re elderly,” said Olive, as if that answered his question. “I will put a shield around the house. Goodbye!”

“Wait, why do you have to…?” Orvis jumped out of his chair.

Olive disappeared.

“Well, there’s a horse of a different color,” said Grandpa. “Elderly indeed! Humph. We’ll show ’em. Where’s that book we’re going to study?”

“It’s that stack of paper over there,” said Orvis heavily. “I bet I just ruined our lives.”

“We don’t have much of a life anyway.” Nara lazily opened The Inability of the Human Mind and closed her eyes again.

“It’s good enough for me.” Orvis rose and shuffled toward the parchment.