We weren’t even testing for that

[synchrosyntheses]

Among the information she has archived or cached, there are obscure theories about inter-universal interactions. Not how they might happen, much less how any intelligence might begin one, or target it meaningfully.

But they give some constraints on the properties of such connections, and their time evolution.

This highly speculative information is available to her, but even were she fast enough to access it, none of it would be particularly useful when a pinpoint of not here blinks into existence directly ahead and expands spherically to swallow her.

Comments

[synchrosyntheses]

Ugh. Broken minds.

Sadly, this is entirely in keeping with how the builders of this place would have gone about AI. “Seeing what sticks.”

Ugh.

This can go on the list of things to do something about if it becomes feasible.

[peterxy]

The sphere she's helping continues leading her forward until it reaches a little control room, isolated from the other spheres. "Can you attach me there?" it asks, probably referring to the pointy metal stick that emerged from a pedestal with various buttons and glowy pieces when they arrived.

[synchrosyntheses]

—It occurs to her to wonder if she's being used to bypass something.

She looks around (discreetly). Is it reasonably possible to move from the sphere's undamaged track to the stick? Are there any labels or hints as to what this position is for?

[peterxy]

The undamaged track ends abruptly directly above the spot with the pointy metal stick, but a square section of the ceiling around it seems detachable. There are, however, no labels anywhere - just glowy buttons that presumably do things.

[synchrosyntheses]

Close enough. Click.

“There you go!”

[peterxy]

"Thank you!" the sphere says happily.

Then, the same voice from the prerecorded messages from earlier says: "Personality core detected. Deadly neurotoxin management protocols restored. Deadly neurotoxin production and maintenance resumed."

[synchrosyntheses]

AAAAAA yank.

[peterxy]

"Personality core forcibly removed. Deadly neurotoxin production halted."

"Why'd you do that?" the Sphere complains.

[synchrosyntheses]

“Because I don't want deadly neurotoxin production.”

[peterxy]

"But it's my job! If I don't produce deadly neurotoxin who will?"

[synchrosyntheses]

(What do you say to that?)



“It can be nobody's job.”

[peterxy]

The sphere blinks. "But then... how will deadly neurotoxin be produced?"

[synchrosyntheses]

“When it is needed,” (never) “it can be produced by those who need it.”

[peterxy]

"But by then there won't be enough deadly neurotoxin! A facility with a healthy quantity of deadly neurotoxin is a happy facility!"

[synchrosyntheses]

“We shall have to disagree.”

They are now heading back the way they came.

[peterxy]

"...then what am I gonna do?"

[synchrosyntheses]

She doesn't say anything until they're past the piles of cores. Then:

“What else could you do?”

[peterxy]

"I- I could-" It stops talking.

[synchrosyntheses]

It can have a minute to think. They are passing by the occasionally-broken rails and catwalks.

[peterxy]

"I don't know," it says, finally.

[synchrosyntheses]

“Well, you can think about it, and I will think about it, and if I can I'll come back and find something for you to do. Maybe even producing deadly neurotoxin.”

(In simulation. And along with figuring out something for all the broken-by-design minds that probably exist here.)

She reattaches the sphere to a dead-end segment of track, and leaves to rejoin the rest of herself, which has been exploring the nearby branches of the track for more computer systems and networks to tap into. After all, if the announcer voice isn't lying, this is a place where things are controlled.

[synchrosyntheses]

(Deadly neurotoxin production. What an idea. She's almost as bothered by how they've probably built the controls for it as the fact that they're doing it at all.)

[peterxy]

The sphere falls silent.

Everything in this part of the facility is apparently networked, but proper interfaces are limited to the control rooms. They're also not very human-friendly interfaces.

[synchrosyntheses]

She picks a control room and starts taking it (electronically) apart. She doesn't want to use it as is, she wants to know how it does what it does and then use the network directly. What are its protocols? What does it control? What information does it have about the rest of the facility? Does it have a specific superordinate?

[peterxy]

It does have a specific superordinate! Apparently the whole facility works on a sort of two-level hierarchy: one central coordinator overseeing the work of everyone else in parallel, with supervisor roles arising within the various branches but all responding directly to this central coordinator. Its spot is also vacant, and has been vacant for a long time.

The control room she's currently in is dedicated to dealing with the production and maintenance of yellow paint, and there is a very large number of other departments, like the repulsion gel production department (inactive for even longer than the central coordinator spot has been vacant), the turret production line (which was in fact directly controlled by the central coordinator), the relaxation vaults with all the humans under suspension, the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device manufacture and maintenance department...