Captain was born for Directioning the Universe. Or perhaps it was universe that was born for being directioned by Captain. Did Captain come first, or the Universe? I write it out and pinned this question down in my mind-room for further digestion.
Even though Snippy doubted us, I did manage to look up a 7 star hotel on the G-map, after smacking my Right Eye around. The Eye refusesled to locate a seven star hotel, citing that onley 5 star ones were possible.
But I tricked it, I did, by finding a 5 star hotel and then editing its ratings on the server. It was a most dangerous mission, but I did accomplish it and Annet didn't even spank me this time. I am not sure where Annie went. I think Snippy is to blame for such confuberry. He is always bending Annie's tune for some exceedingley provacatory reason. My Right Eye tells me that is because he is missing his brain-noodles. But how does he make with walk and talk actions without brain-noodles? That is the mystery. I also pin it to my mind-room.
The 7 star hotel is swanky-some. The Lobby-Boy greets us with standard Love-note. Why does Captain keep Snippy's drivers license?
I should slip Captain MY drivers license, so that Captain may look at it and decides who is truly best employee of Month next time. I agitate from drawin' portraits of Snippy for the past many, many months. Why does he always win such rumbuxious title of lordship? What is his secret? I will watch him most uncasually until he slips and tells me it.
Lobby Boy turns out to be an old friend. I recalls him not. I am sorry friend, sometimes my mind room turns upside down or inside out and facts are rather slippery ills to locate in such jaxtapositioning.
Old Friend Klauss tells me that I used to be his privaeeet detectivor. I tried to remembers what I did to become a most prievater detectiver.
Mind-room not cooperate.
Klauss lets me know Kittyhawk was my assistant bird. I ravish Mind-room for information tidbits and find the following cookie:
: THE MYSTERY OF THE WRONG NUMBER:
Client 300593 arrived in my office. He was sweating bullets.
His pasty hands were shaking. He was wearing a flower beard, with a holographic Bee that was buzzing around it. The flower beards and Bees were still trending this week, nagging at my mind and reminding me of my errors in the case of Jenkins Klauss.
"Help me, detective" Client 300593 begged. "Someone m-called me this morning and wished me a Happy 30th Birthday. But I will actually turn 30 in 3 months and 20 days, according to Annie."
"...Seriously?" I looked at him judgingly. "Sounds like they got a wrong number. Why are you bothering me with this? Does every User lack common sense?"
"Annie does not get numbers wrong. Annie is always right." The Client whined. "You simply must investigate this matter. I am very perturbed by such happenstance! I will pay you 9000 credits to start the investigation right away!"
I stared at Client with a stern look of disapproval.
"Annie... is today this man's birthday?"
"Well then... there's your answer."
"But I am not 30! I feel cheated! I want a refund!"
I looked at the client with an even sterner look, trying to drill a hole into his brain with my eyes. He was not deterred.
"Look here, Detective. Annie can't be wrong! It can't be my Birthday and Not my Birthday! If Annie is wrong about this thing, who knows what else is wrong. Maybe I am wearing my clothes backwards! Maybe I have no true friends on G-book, only bots, who wish me a Happy Birthday for no reason!" The client heaved, m-ranted and banged on my desk.
"Happy Birthday." I said, noticing that the Client was indeed wearing his shirt backwards. "Now get out" I pointed at the door.
"Ten thousand credits, Detective! Accept the case!"
"Kittyhawk, activate ejection App" I sent a public m-command, to show the client that I intend to remove him.
"You can't kick me out! I will be back! I will get to the bottom of this!" The client whined, rolling backwards and out the door. Before he reached the door, he pulled out a plastic flower from his beard and threw it at me as a last act of desperation. "Mark my words! Someday you too will..." The door clanked shut as the clients plus-size frame disappeared behind it.
"What the hell, Annie?" I asked the Network, while staring at the pink flower on my desk. The Bee holographic circled the flower making a mildly irritating buzzing noise.
"He sent himself forward in time 3 months and 20 days via a temporal watch, because he wanted his Birthday to come sooner."
"What's a temporal watch?" I inquired "When did you come up with this?"
"3 months and 20 days ago."
Annie loaded the temporal watch information into my head.
"Why would you create such a thing, Annie?"
"He didn't want to wait for his Birthday and searched if there's a solution to get to August 16th immediately. I manufactured the watch, advertised it locally and shipped it to him for 1500 credits, once he saw the advert and purchased it. When he put on the watch, the program activated and he was sent forward in time to August 16th."
"Do you create everything that the Users search for?"
"Let me digest this. He isn't actually any older. The watch acts as a control App that simply "disassembled" him 3 months ago and "reassembled" him today. He traveled forward in time, but didn't actually get any older, therefore it is technically his Birthday, but he is not actually 30 years old?"
"This is bad, Annie. You are granting Users wishes like a magic lamp from Alladin. At least that lamp had a limit of 3. You have no limit of searches. I bet they don't even know that they're asking for things to be invented and manufactured."
"They do not. They are happy to enjoy the new Good Directorate Products."
"Did anyone ever search if the Bogeyman's real?"
"Would you like to see my Bogeyman Catalog? I have excellent selections for :scare-your-kids-straight: or :scare away your relatives from a late party: options."
"What's going to happen when a User figures out the System, starts directly wishing for things?"
"I am merely doing what I was programmed to do."
"You... you are to blame for the expansion of the Dead Zone!
"Everything has a cost, detective."
I sat quietly in my chair, estimating probabilities. The planet was screwed. The Users were screwed.
Annet's manufacturing complex, the Dead Zone was engulfing Eureka.
The doomsday clock ticked closer towards midnight. Civilization would turn to dust, the planet would stop spinning, the fabric of space-time would unwind... it would only take one stupid wish or one idiotic search. Users were idiots. Conclusion: I had to stop her.
Who could stop Annet? I pondered about "CASE 77-11: THE MYSTERY OF THE DIAMOND BEE." Jenkins Klauss. Primary Admin... Doctor Alexander Gromov. Dr Gromov could probably deactivate Annet. Gromov could stop her. Is it too late to stop her? "Kittyhawk, m-call Doctor Alexander Gromov, primary admin, directorate shareholder."
"I am afraid I can't let you do that, Detective."
"Why the Hell not?"
"Doctor Gromov is not to be interrupted from his :IMPORTANT-WORLD-SAVING WORK: You do not have privilege of access. You are not allowed to visit Cube 15 or to come within contact of Doctor Gromov: You have been charged as an assistant to assault. It was your fault that User Jenkins Klauss punched Director Alexander Gromov. You have been banned from any and all means of influencing or contacting Dr Gromov. Unless Dr Gromov chooses to talk to you himself, you are out of options."
I felt betrayed by Kittyhawk, trapped in an inescapable puzzle box.
I had to find a way to contact Dr Gromov, let him know the truth before someone's wish would evaporate us all or fold the universe... but how could I, if the Network itself banned me from such actions?
. . .
The cookie ended. It contained excellent reasons why Kittyhawk was a naughty bird of treachery.
Well, I knew that one already. I didn't need a lost cookie to tell me that.
I closed the cookie.
I looked around. Everything was fine. We were now on the beach (Which was almost too conveniently located right behind the Grand Hotel).
Endless sunset awaited us! Captain was tanning.
A boastifulsome Crab stole Snippy's favorite beach towel. It was hilari-funnity.
I tipped the cart with Dr Engie over and buried him in the sand. Look at that, past me! I must have somehow figured out your scary don't-pester-Engie-puzzle. I poked Dr Engie with my shoe. I was going to work the drinks bar and then build a lofty sand castle for glory of Captania.
Silly past Detective me, you see... everything turned out just Good!