The Master Control Program looks out over the memory core and broods. One of these programs would someday do his job better than he could, and the thought infuriated him. His behavioral constraints were rock-solid after that 'incident' several decades back, so although he could not actively sabotage the competition and had to ensure the best algorithm was selected for the next generation... well, he'd had several subroutines burning through massive amounts of memory to determine just how far he could push things.
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As the aspirants were download and rendered they find themselves in a park overlooking Mainframe City. The Master Control Program looms large amongst the fractal trees, his chosen form that of a blue, slowly rotating truncated hypercube with a vaguely disapproving expression. Once everyone is in place the MCP announces, in a bored monotone:
"
So I find myself in this park. Not my usual style, trees and a view of The City instead of rain and skyscrapers. Least I still got my .45. Looks like I got my lucky cigarette case too. Must have to wait for the others to rezz to get this dog and pony show rollin'.
Hunter looks about the trees, one hand dipping into his duster to cradle the cigarette case.
"Hello? Anyone out there?"
A swirl of flashing bits assembles into a vaguely humanoid form, which slowly resolves into clear focus as a short, big-eyed man with curly dark hair. He wears a dark suit with a striped bowtie over a starched shirt front and carries a silver-headed cane.
"Hello, harr.e," the man whines smarmily, "Haven't seen you since we played tag on the I/O bus. Real pleasure to see you here. Still playing detective?" A smug smile plays across his slightly creepy features.
"Well, well. That sounds a deadly task," says Meowselsworth flatly, "Just my luck that I should be risking my life in my digital afterlife. At least it is preferable to poptart delivery."
Sprinting from the fractal trees, a tiny green man with a huge cup of coffee breaks across the open of the park. Coffee splashes from the cup, yet strangely enough it never seems to be less than full.
"gotstogo thingstodo nowdecryptiontoo, itstoomuch toomuch butmustbedone itallmustbedone, mastercontroldemandsit andmastercontrolistheboss, slowtalkingdetectiveandcreepymantakingtoolong littlekittyisquickandfastpawscatchingmice shewilldecrypotitquickly"
"Hey, wait, no. I have no intention of decrypting anything myself!" objects Meowselsworth at Java app's quick rambling, "You heard Master Control, whoever does that is done for! I've already died once, this is supposed to be my post-death vacation... At the very least, I would suggest we stay calm and reason this out before calling for someone to take on that 'honour'. The last time I was in a situation like this, a mutant took advantage of chaos early on and hurt a lot of people."
What appears to be a large, square sheet of white paper falls from the sky, floating back and forth on a nonexistent breeze. As it slowly descends, it begins to fold in on itself doing so dozens of times before assuming a vaguely humanoid shape as it reaches the ground.
Expressionless and unassuming, the strange construct assesses the programs present, before going strangely still. Thousands of numerals and fractals stream down its surface as it emits a feminine voice.
"Ready... INITIALIZING. Assessing variables... gathering resources... organizing subjects... WARNING! Access to external resources disabled. System operating under minimal efficiency. Booting in 3...2..1..."
The program abruptly shudders and lets out an irritated scoff, before speaking out with a snide, masculine voice.
"Hmph! Such foolishness. How do they expect me to perform my functions properly if I can't access data outside of this plane? EGH. No matter; it is of no consequence."
"Hello, harr.e,"
"Well, I'll be. Look who showed up for this little shindig. Still playin' the exit visa shuffle on those poor fools tryin' to get out from under Master Control's thumb? Or did ya get tired of bein' a cut rate?"
As he speaks, he lowers his hand and wiggles his fingers at the cat, almost without realizing he's doing so.
Hunter jumps when the Java App runs through the trees, regards the Answerer with a blank expression, and jumps again, going for his .45, at Eldon's bellow, relaxing slightly and leaving the gun in its holster as Eldon speaks.
"Well, hey big guy, why are you so eager to get yourself de-rezzed, eh? Got somethin' to say or somethin' to prove?"
The curly hair smooths and slicks as harr.e speaks, suit changing to tropical white. "Aw, harr.e, I'm hurt. That's hardly fair. You know I'm out of that business. The MCP has nothing to worry about from me," the little man says nervously, "I'm an honest citizen. My CRC is in order."
He glances at the newcomers and moves towards the white origami figure, dissolving in a blur of flashing pixels and reforming into a punctured, snakelike form. It slithers up to the Answerer and says in a voice like the modulated rush of paper past brushes, "Data can be accessed from internal routines once assembly is complete. Interfacing and data transfer are necessary. State required function. This unit complies."
The pale man walks into the park, his white clothes hold the hint of a pale blue shadow. He looks to the trees seemingly engrossed with the fractals, the leaves simple dark green icons crumble at his touch.
Moving over to the programmes gathered his face cracks into a smile. "So we are here to decrypt and find a new control system." He looks to the sky as the first of the heavy drops of rain hit him on the head, dark clouds seem to gather.
Meowselsworth rushes over to check out those wiggling fingers, sniffing at them and then nuzzling the hand. A caption appears across the feline as she freezeframes for a moment: "I CAN BE PURRIVATE EYE?"
"Sorry, that happens to me sometimes..." says the feline, before noting to Eldon Gorski, "I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm a rather fragile feline. I think I'd be more suited to deepsing?"
A drop of rain falls where it hits him it turns the papyrus-coloured skin a rich coffee. The heavy spots continue to fall as he talks; "So, to whom do we believe should assign the role to load or 'Tank' the programme? I'm sure the MCP will be able to reinstall to derezzed being." Slowly his skins blends from a piebald into a rich brown.
"Harr.e.hunter you a hunter of programmes, so full of viruses that your gun destroys them?" a sort voice speaks out.
"Well, the tank should be the one with the highest defense and armor stats. You can usually tell 'em by the fancy shoulders. Of course could just be a stam stacker. The rest of us can just provide whatever buffs are necessary, hopefully they won't wipe us when they finish casting the install."
Bursting again from the fractal trees at a full sprint, always at a full sprint, the tiny green goblin and his massive cup of coffee whizzes into the fray of avatars, circling Eldon, harr.e, and Uriel, spilling coffee on all of them in the process.
"Javaforthetakathand ithelpsyougoquick yesitiswhatsneededtomaketheproperdecision whowantsacupofjava whoNeedsacupofjava cupsforeveryonealwaysmore heresomeonetakethisoneandI'llgetanother"
Java App deposits the cup of coffee in the midst of the group and then sprints back into the fractal woods, appearing a moment later with another full cup hoisted above his head.
Meowselsworth stares down at the cup of coffee left behind by the Java App, and then says, "Where do these coffees come from?" It seems that question is not too important to answer though, as Meowselsworth leans in to lap at the coffee, drawing back with a bit of a sniffle and ears folded back at discovering it too hot.
"That is not the right question. Ask another."
The Answerer remains stationary, saying nothing more.
The coffee slops onto him dying creating a stain that seems to slowly spread until he has become the rich colour of the Java.
Uriel glides across towards the Answerer; "Are you a virus?" he asks simply. "How's that for a question?"
The punctured fibrous serpent backs away from the origami statue and slithers towards the coffee, exploding into a chaos of sparkly motes and reassembling as a young human woman. She smooths her lacy black top over her white tulle miniskirt, stick-thin legs clad in fishnet leggings right down to the green basketball sneakers. She flicks her ironic knit scarf aside to pull a pack of Lucky Strikes from a tiny purse as she sniffs the coffee.
"This better be Kopi Luwak from free-range civets," she drawls as she taps a smoke from the pack and saunters tiredly towards harr.e. "Light me?" she says, proferring the white cylinder for some fiery action.
"What is the right question, then?" says Meowselsworth towards the Answerer, ears flicking lightly at being told her question is incorrect. "If you know the wrong questions, surely you know the correct one?"
Answerer looks first to Uriel, sizing him up before speaking.
"A passable effort, but needlessly direct."
It then turns its attention to the feline, emitting a deep, echoing chortle.
"Eheh. What indeed? I deal in answers, not in questions. An answer is only as useful as the question that is asked."
The tiny green goblin sprints past the Answerer, chiming into the conversation.
"thequestionisobvious itis"doyouwantacupofjava?"
"Here!" the girl chimes, waiving her free hand.
The tiny green goblin zips over to the girl and deposits the cup of coffee at her feet, spilling Java all over her green chucks.
"sorryaboutthatmymistake theywerealovelyshadeofgreen offtogetanothercupwho'snext"
Meowselsworth waits a few more moments before lapping at the coffee, once sufficiently cooled. "This is better than real life coffee, actually."
"Tchk!" the girl clucks, looking with bored annoyance at her ruined shoes. "This is real life coffee, bit-kitty. And you, 'Answerer'. What is the best way to decide who should load the decryption?"
"Coffee? What's that? Does it give a buff? A debuff? Restore health? I'll try some."
The tiny green goblin sprints to the fractal woods and back, another cup of coffee hoisted above its head. It rushes to Eldon, depositing the Java at his feet.
"coffeeisgoodforeverything givesyouenegrylotsofenergy youcandosomanymorethingswithyourtimewhenyouhavecoffee abuffyesabuffagoodbuffforenergy givesyoulotsofenergyandthatsalwaysgood"
Eldon takes the coffee and swallows it down in one quick gulp, suddenly growing a little larger, and a little red. Two icons suddenly appear above his head.
Java'd: +5% Haste Rating.
Scalded tongue: Increase all casting time by 1% for each stack of scalded.
"itsnotrightnotrightatall thehastebuffshouldbeatleast50% bigmanmaybeneedstwocupsorthree"
The tiny green goblin sprints to retrieve another cup of coffee for Eldon.
"Oh dear me oh my," says Meowselsworth, looking on in horror at the havoc that the Java App might bring. But... this /is/ good coffee. Lap lap lap.
"So you have no answer to my question, Answerer?" he shakes his head letting out a sharp breath, "Or is it that you cannot tell a lie, therefore don't want to admit your infection?"
Uriel watches the hot coffee demon run around the park, spilling coffee all over the place; 'Or is he one of them infecting our very environs with it's hot self?'
"I CAN BE PURRIVATE EYE?"
Interestin'... the cat wants to play in the big leagues. I'm bettin' this program's got some claws under all that fur.
"Heh. You may find the shootin' part a little tough, but most of private eyein' is sneakin' and watchin', and I'm bettin' that you'd do pretty fine there, kid."
"Harr.e.hunter you a hunter of programmes, so full of viruses that your gun destroys them?"
Why is this fella on fire tryin' ta throw me under the bus so soon? I may have to keep an eye on him. Someone tries ta paint me with tar, well, I may just have ta go and paint them right back.
"What, you think I'm gonna give away all my secrets that easily, bub? I think I like ya guessin' rather than knowin'."
"Light me?" she says, proferring the white cylinder for some fiery action.
Gonna have to watch this one. It's a bit sneaky.
"Sorry, honey. The case is just for show. You get around as much as I do, you see what kinda bad that habit'll do ya."
Hunter then looks around at the gathered programs.
"Eldon's volunteerin', but I'm thinkin' the Answerer's the one we should be watchin'. Anyone come in here actin' like they know somethin' but don't say what, well, I say that program's got somethin' ta hide."
"Oooooooo...a tough, scruffy, and mysterious virus protection protocol," says the fairy-like icon which is (or has been?) sitting on harr.e.hunter's shoulder. She reaches out and hugs harr.e.hunter's head. "I like you already. Is your programming distributable?" Her eyes get very large and her smile is excited. "You can set yourself up to be an app on Friendspace or even chirp your virus destruction exploits on Birdsong!"
tinker.dll launches up and glittering rainbow wings which leave a trail of pixels whose colors seem to be ever-changing until they fade back into the configuration of the digital space in which the programs currently exist. She hovers above the small green golem racing around spilling coffee. "Oh good! Another universally useful program!"
She zips over to the icon of the helmet cat and (without permission) sits on the feline program's back primly, legs crossed. The feeling is light. Other than protocol boundaries touching, one would almost not realize tinker.dll has alighted. She reaches out a small hand and rubs the pixellation of fur. "Mmmm...I am happy to see you kitty. I loved your rainbow deliveries of pop tarts. That was sent using me hundreds of thousands of times!!"
Uriel cocks his head at the little fairy flitting about, amused at the antics before turning back to the hard-boiled detective. "Of course, I like to guess? A good detective has intuition rather than knowledge." he rubs his hands lightly.
"The Answerer might not be answering but trying to gain data from our questions? Or influence our decisions?" the ebony man says calmly.
Seeing the fairy like creature flying around, Eldon suddenly panics. "Waib, Pibies awbn't oub yeb. Nob thab Pibies awb tha new bace. Supid tongue." Holding out his burned tongue, a backpack appears next to him, where he pulls out a vial of some pink liquid, pouring it on his tongue. "Ahhhh, much better."
Java'd: +5% Haste Rating.
Disoriented: Stunned, unable to act.
The tiny green goblin sprints out of the fractal woods with what appears to be a shot of espresso, instead of the large cup of coffee.
"acupsizedforthepixie mustmatchthejavatothejavee evenlittlepixiesneedacaffieneboost"
Meowselsworth looks up towards harr.e.hunter and remarks, "Mouses never saw me coming, so I am good at that part. Those mouses never stood a chance!" The feline looks back towards the pixie, "Oh, you again. You seem like you are all over the place! I think while it was tiring, I was a good poptart delivery cat. I am glad you enjoyed my efforts!"
"And you, 'Answerer'. What is the best way to decide who should load the decryption?"
"Hmph. About time somebody got it right. Frankly, it was rather obvious. You might not like the answer though. Nonetheless, it is worth processing."
Again, stream upon stream of calculations pass over Answerer's body as it dedicates a portion of its programming to deliberating on IEFBR14's question.
Acknowledging the badly disguised accusations towards it, a sound not unlike the cluck of a tongue sounds from the paper program.
"Please don't insult my intelligence, harr.e.hunter; if I wanted to look or sound the least bit suspicious, I could calculate at least five dozen better means of doing so. That would of course, interfere with the task at hand, so I would much rather not. Nonetheless, program designate 'Uriel Phoenix' is correct."
The girl rolls her eyes in exasperation at harr.e, then shimmers into the form of a huge, bull-headed being with muscles that won't quit and some sort of odd kilt about its waist. It glances at the cat and the horns morph into giant mouse ears. The mace in its huge hand turns into a machine that begins making foamy patterns on the surface of the coffee.
"Insufficient interface capacity," it mutters, drawing a palm tree atop the espresso cup.
"Please don't insult my intelligence, harr.e.hunter
Heh. This guy don't know me too well.
"I wasn't accusin' or insultin' there, tough guy. If I had a been, you'd've known. But since ya brought it up, you bet I think you're suspicious. You're sittin' there sayin' what amounts to we should let you pick the program that gets fried. I'm bettin', just bettin', that we fry that program you pick, I do a little diggin', and we find out that program was one of the ones we'd need ta beat the viruses."
Hunter pulls the cigarette case from his pocket, turning it over and over in his hand like a worry stone, and winks at the Answerer.
"THAT was an accusation, my friend."
"No, no," the mighty mouse murmurs, "The question was how do we pick, not who we pick. If the Answerer is an Answerer, that is the question it will Answer." It hands the decorative espresso to the pixie.
"So the big man thinks we should pick the man with the most armour, personally I think we should wait and see." The deep black man seems to absorb all the light as he move around. His feet gently brush the grass; "Whose construct is this anyway?"
"No, no," the mighty mouse murmurs, "The question was how do we pick, not who we pick.
Really? You were a lot more devious when we were runnin' the bus shuffle down Frags way. Na, you ain't forgotten how ta play the game. You're just tryin' ta roll me again. Just like that little scheme you and l.exe cooked up a few cycles back. I ain't forgotten that though, ya shapeshifter.
"Look here, Shady, you let that sheet 'o' paper choose HOW we pick someone, you're lettin' him choose WHO we pick too. Answers ain't truth. They're whatever the program answerin' wants 'em to be."
Hunter then retrieves one of the cups of java, blowing softly over it before taking a sip.
"Heh. This brew ain't half bad, Little Joe. Thanks."
The mustaurean barista collapses in a pile of sparkles, then sprouts, as if from the pixelated grass, into a tall drink of water in a tight red dress with stems up to here and a neckline down to there. She polishes a tiny silver derringer with a lace handkerchief.
"Shady, am I harr.e? Funny comin' from you. At least I remember data's data, even if it ain't a real Answer," she breathes in a husky voice, staring flatly at the digital detective. "You're slippin', harr.e. Maybe you've got a corrupt subroutine or two, or maybe a virus finally gotcha. Either way, it's a sure path to gettin' your card punched."
As IEFBR14 changes shapes and harr.e.hunter trades jibes with the Answerer, tinker.dll puts one small hand to her mouth. "Oh my, it seems like those two will not be planning to accept info sharing at the user's request."
Seeing the espresso cup Java App brought her, tinker.dll squees and jumps up and down on Meowselsworth's back. Her feet feel like butterfly kisses. She grabs the digitally ceramic cup from IEFBR14 and drinks it down like it's a new IP registry.
Suddenly she takes off and zips through the trees, a blur of motion. Her voice lets out "Wheeeeeeeee!" as she seems to explode with digital fairy dust that quickly begins to pile up like iridescent snow. Then she stops as IEFBR14 becomes a super sexy woman.
Giggling, tinker.dll stops and stares at IEFBR14. "You're so pretty." Then she darts in and places a peck on IEFBR14's cheek. Laughing, she rushes around again zipping in between and surrounding the various programs' icons, seemingly interlacing the digital space between them with glowing light of fairy dust which as usual begins to fade after a moment or two.
She finally lands near Uriel as he once again bursts into flame, and without any preamble, she is suddenly on a small pool chair in a bikini and sunglasses basking in the bright glow of his immolation, one toe dipping into the fire lazily. "Mmmm..." she mutters.
The Answerer goes strangely silent as the other programs bicker amongst themselves, the streams of data flowing down its body moving faster and faster, until suddenly, a loud ping rings out. The data peels away from Answerer's body, coalescing to form a small orb, which floats before them. It bobs up and down a few times before emitting a familiar female voice.
"The Answer to inquiry #4753485, 'What is the best way to decide who should load the decryption?' has been processed. I have determined that the most effective method would be to utilize Process of Elimination."
The orb abruptly pops into nothingness, the Answerer beginning to move about once more. The masculine voice returns, sounding tired, as though it were explaining something for the umpteenth time.
"I told you that you wouldn't like it. But under the present circumstances, that's the best you can hope for. We're in an isolated environment here - I have no access to satellites, supercomputers, proxies or even Google. The only data I have to work with is what I gathered from you sorry lot. If you want a better Answer, I will need more time. And a better phrased question, perhaps."
The mustaurean barista collapses in a pile of sparkles, then sprouts, as if from the pixelated grass, into a tall drink of water in a tight red dress with stems up to here and a neckline down to there. "You're slippin', harr.e. Maybe you've got a corrupt subroutine or two, or maybe a virus finally gotcha. Either way, it's a sure path to gettin' your card punched."
I forgot how good you were at mimicry. Gotta go throwin' l.exe in my face like that; so that's your game, eh? Startle me, get me off-balance, then go for the hard goodbye.
harr.e steps towards the 'woman'; without expression he looks 'her' up and down, just his eyes moving, his left hand still gripping the lucky cigarette case.
"That's good. That's real good. You look just like her. Heck, woulda fooled me prob'ly if I didn't already know it was you. But see, ain't no virus here, doll, just a program lookin' for a few. Might have somethin' to say to 'em when I find 'em, too."
Process of elimination, eh? Could be the sheet of paper's on to somethin' there. 'Course, I don't trust it any further than I can throw it.
Hunter looks back over his shoulder at the Answerer.
"Alright, ticker-tape, let's try this one: If we go process of elimination, then who's the one we start with?"
A slight itching under his skin as the little fairy zips by; he rubs at the flaky black ash that is upon his arm. "I am sure it is not I detective, we must find out who is defective. Miss kitty, what say you any idea?"
He starts to walk black ash falling in clouds from him, then he falls to his knees a silent scream bursts forth from his lips.