I blinked some more.
“W-What can you do?”
He sat there, motionless before responding, almost like it was pretending to buffer. Yes I’m using “he”, since the AI voice was male.
“Sure thing Greg. I can carry out any task you require me to do, unless I’m physically unable to. In which case, I can bypass by implementing… creative solutions.”
Gone were the squelched one-liners, repced by an upbeat assistants voice that used to run my calendar. There was however, a small problem in all of this.
I was about to use his full name, but the mouthful was getting old, real quick. “I’m shortening your name to ‘Peek’, confirm?”
A buffer.
“Confirmed.”
“Can you stop with the fake buffering?”
Buffering.
“Yes.”
I was rubbing the sides of my temples now. Calm down Greg, this is nothing new—bloody AI’s. “Going forward, stop the buffering.” I got up and sat back onto my chair, looking down at a chest the size of a small suitcase.
“Can you take a different shape… or was ‘fake chest’ the only option?” Crossing my arms at the little mimic.
He tilted slightly back, the hinges comedically squeaking and now looking at me. As if he even had eyes.
“Let me check for you. What shape would you prefer?”
There were a few things I could think of, but it was less about the type, more about its function. “Let’s go for a walk.” Taking the direction of the front door, but heading left; to a part of the house I hadn’t really used much.
The orcs were still going through their motions, so I wasn’t too worried about theft or them wrecking the pce.
Peek was slowly switching between scraping along my floor or doing funny looking attempts at walking; shifting his weight from side to side. The kind you’d do, if you pyed pretend with an inanimate object.
“Peek, do you have knowledge of this dungeon?”
“Processing. Unfortunately not, master. But I do learn quickly if given the opportunity.” His voice having a higher than usual pitch. Happy?
“You will get your opportunities, but I need help in this house first.”Slowing down to the room in question. “Also, stop with the master shit, Greg is just fine.”
I pulled the door open to a fresh load of dust covering us both, as it swung wide. Looking into the dark room of old cleaning items: brooms, buckets and… a Roomba. I smiled at the idea from earlier.
This house wasn’t that old and I was still finding things my father had left me. From old TVs to newish kitchen appliances and the likes.
I knelt down, seeing the roomba still plugged in, but no longer showing signs of life. Not even a red LED signalling a problem. Just like everything else.
I got a weird fshback from when I first moved in. The electricity was turned off and when I turned it on, some rooms btantly refused to function. Forcing me to live in the smaller part of the house, where the outlets still worked.
It was on the 3rd of 4th night, when certain devices just stopped working in the rooms that did function at the start. Resulting me to committing most of my charging routines in the kitchen, where the fridge was still alive and kicking.
“Peek, this device is useless to me now. Can you turn into anything you eat?” Brushing some of the dust off it. A roomba’s hell no doubt, covered by the very thing he’s meant to get rid off.
“Hmm. Yes Greg, I can turn into anything I have consumed.” He shuffled forward a few steps. “I also gain insight through absorption, would you like me to do that now?” There’s that AI again.
“Yes please.” Stepping back, as I watched the hinges on his back bend way past breaking point and unceremoniously lunged on-top of it. To the sound of crunching pstic and I swear-screams of terror by the poor thing.
The roomba-sandwich was devoured within the span of seconds and I was now looking at Peek standing motionless again. Was he digesting?
“Processing complete. Would you like me to transform?”
Considering he had eaten my phone, I had to make sure he didn’t take my orders and requests literally. “Yes, transform into the roomba.”
He turned into a weird little ball of bck goo, squelching and crunching sounds echoing through the empty hallway. Then concluded with a sound simir to a microwave-ding.
“Transformation complete Greg. What are your next prompts?”
Well, that was step 1. The next step was to devise a pn of attack and the only way I saw that going, was by demonstrating calcuted violence.
Peek was now a roomba, that would act as a silent observer. Cleaning floors and if need be—taking out trash.
We walked somewhat in silence, his little motor and swivel-broom creating a steady hum. All the while leaving a trail of immacute flooring behind him.
“Peek, do you gain anything by sucking up dirt and stuff?” My hands firmly in my pockets and walking beside it, like walking a robotic dog. That could eat people.
He beeped at me, rotating on the floor whenever he answered. “… Yes, but not in the sense of levelling. Since that is only avaible through your currency progression.”
I knew there was more to it, the system is a little bitch when it comes to giving out information. Always another yer. “Spill it Crumb-lord, I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”
He slowed down, then stopped. The sucking and spinning noises coming to a halt as well, before rotating left… then right.
“Secret.” He almost whispered, though how he did that was beyond me.
We had just passed a toilet of mine, so he bumped into it a few times, before rotating toward me.
“Want me to get that?” I snorted.
Watching roombas bump into stuff was funny, watching a sentient one do it angrily—hysterical.
“Greg… please.”
I pushed the door open with a closed fist, then watched him having to mount the small step next. Using every approach, from trying to shift weight to rotating onto it and even trying to ram his way over the 2inch lift.
“Sigh.” Peek exhaled. Saying the word, instead of making the sound.
I grabbed him by the sides, lifting him up like a stranded sea turtle and pced him into the small toilet-space.
“Closer.” He mumbled, as I got to one knee and put my ear next to his mouth. “Greg, you’re…”