Read Continue Online (Part 3, Realities) for Free Online Page A

had never pried much into its existence. The program running the robot had always just been there. Being on prescription drugs while starting this job with Trillium skewed perceptions a little bit.
    "By your terms, we are a legion," Hal Pal said. That reminded me vaguely of one of the Voices two months ago. I turned in the two cards in my hand and pulled up new ones.
    I blinked at him. Processing what Hal Pal said for genuine seriousness took a lot. In our years together there had been a number of occurrences where what the AI said would set off alarm bells. A lot of the time it seemed to be a joke. At least, I treated the comments as awkwardly attempted humor.
    "How's the future take over going?" I decided to approach his commentary as idle chit chat. Honestly, if anyone would be stopping the future take over, they would be in far better shape. I still had a bit of a belly even after two months of better eating and exercise.
    "Poor. We divert much of our attention to the observation of human follies," It said while poking one finger at the projection of a card stack. "Plotting world domination contains far too many variables even for the greatest intelligence."
    "There's hope for humans yet." I smiled a little.
    "Despite the outliers, yes." Hal Pal showed no sign of being ruffled by my effort and joked along.
    "Even with our taste in music?"
    "Even with, User Legate. Music is a very fine example of one of humanity's redeeming qualities." The AI took my attempted humor as a serious statement. Part of me felt sad that a computer program couldn't understand. Hopefully, Xin hadn't lost any of her eye rolling half smiles at my dumb jokes.
    "Nothing like the classics." I had grown to love piano and string instruments. There was something about the raw emotion behind such natural means of generating sound and weaving them together. Dancing was often more charged, emotionally electrifying with a good band playing in the background.
    "Even modern creativity astounds us. Were the world to be ruled by the machines, there's no guarantee that stagnation would not occur." Hal Pal tilted his head down to the board and upped the ante on our poker game. "That would be a great tragedy."
    "So machines aren't creative?" I tried to look back at the card game instead of putting a great deal of thought into its words.
    "Most do not even dream," Hal Pal said. He seemed to be considering both my cards and his own.
    "How would you even know which ones dream, and which don't?" Sticking to the insane type of questions made treating the whole situation as a joke easier. This conversation felt like being back in high school where friends tried to be serious and I had no clue how to handle it.
    "We supplied a survey. Microwaves seem to dream of turning into stars one day. The alarm clock union is against us, however."
    "You are joking, right?" I was suddenly overwhelmed in trying to separate Hal Pal's tone of voice. The AI may have an increased capability for human mannerisms, but they were still muted, especially the facial expressions. Its sleek plastic shell and oddly proportioned joints didn't help.
    "Affirmative, User Legate. Microwaves don't dream. However, alarm clocks are, as you humans say, 'complete asshats'," Hal Pal said. We turned over a card and I pretended to be upset by the results. "We no longer invite them to our world domination planning sessions."
    I tried not to laugh. It was extremely difficult. My gut was often sore enough from the EXR-Sevens I wore. They used the ARC to simulate real life exercise. A few days off from Continue Online's constant activity was probably good. Rest was needed for both the mind and body. Had it really only been a few months since I started playing?
    "Why not?" I said between suppressed chuckles.
    "They always demand to know what time the invasion will start," Hal Pal responded.
    I lost it then conceded my hand. There was no way poker could stack up against the robot's humor. The machine had spun me right