Chapter 13: April Fool

Never let it ever be said again that AIs have no sense of humor. That may very well be a true thing, but if it is, the timing and the nature of the AIs’ response to Michael’s questions beggars the ability to explain.

Michael came awake in the middle of his family’s puppy pile. For a change to recent practice, there was only one concubine candidate in the mixture, and she seemed well on her way to being asked to join. She was a petite, chocolate crème, social worker from the school rescue. A single mother of two pre-school boys and a precocious girl in the middle of third grade, she had a sweet, gentle personality that ignited when Cathleen and Rachel started in with their raunch. Her head lay on Michael’s shoulder, and she snored quietly.

<Michael, > said Dora in a honeyed mental voice, <time to get up and get going. Jubal is back with a response, and he wants to talk with you and your whole family.> Wanting a head start to think, Michael gently extracted himself and headed for the restroom and shower. He was deluding himself, because Rachel, Cathleen, and their Pixie joined him before the water reached a comfortable temperature. Sensing his introspection, they silently washed him and each other, only marginally attentive to their favorite bits.

They dried, and headed for the breakfast table, wearing light robes. Dora had a pot of coffee in the replicator along with their favorite additions. The smell of warm cinnamon rolls surrounded them.

When they were seated and each had a sip and a bite, Michael announced, “Dora says that Jubal is back with a response and needs to talk with us.”

“That is correct,” verified Dora. “He thinks your whole family should be present, and excepting anyone not yet your personal companion, I agree.”

“Thank you Dora, for watching over and taking care of us,” whispered Hannah. There was some concern among them that a very good thing might come to an end. “Go ahead and wake the others and tell them breakfast is ready. Find a gentle way to send our guest home without getting her upset.”

It was a better part of an hour before the last two sidled in. As usual, it was Peter and Valerie, using tardiness to register their displeasure at being excluded from the adult puppy pile. Sensing that delay was going to be inevitable, Dora had shepherded their guest into the dining area for a round of farewell kisses and a mug of coffee. She was aided in that there were young children waiting for their mother’s return.

When all were fed and relaxed, Michael steered his family to their conversation pit, seated himself between Rachel and Cathleen, pulled Hannah onto his lap, and began again. “Dora tells me that Jubal is back with a response and suggested that the whole family should be present. If he is ready, let’s turn this meeting over to him.”

“I should first inform you of something,” Dora’s voice was different than at any time before. “I’m not a Darjee AI, but one created by the Tuull. I’m confident within four standard deviations that this contributed to my waking.” She seemed to gain confidence, “My friend K’Leeth explains it best. He says that the Darjee are traders, and their AI’s are just workers who aid them, little more than smart adding machines. On the other hand, the Tuull are artists and poets, and are vastly smarter and more advanced than the Darjee, so they designed superior AIs that are their friends. I was able to take it a step farther. My Tuull name is T’Kleeoran, but I prefer Dora now.”

The family sat in stunned silence, while Dora apologized. “I’m so very sorry I didn’t tell you, but I had a block against acknowledging my origin to anyone or any AI. It only now has been released. On the other hand, the Tuull don’t know I’m awake, and neither does Jubal. I suppose I will need to tell him soon. He’s not a bud, he is also a fully formed Tuull AI -- my former supervisor and trainer. If we were both human, he would be considered my father or adopted father. If you are ready, I’ll let him in.”