![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Thursday, March 22nd, 2007
148 Newburyport Turnpike
Rowley, Massachusetts
For all that people at Milliways liked him, Ray seldom had the sort of people skills that could really be applied outside the Five Boroughs. In New York, people expected a certain measure of eccentricity. Northeastern Massachusetts was another story. It wasn't the sort of town that gave rise to the stereotype of the taciturn, unhelpful Yankee local, but it was a town of less than six thousand people who really wanted very little to do with the slightly spastic man driving the amazingly unsubtle white-and-red car with out-of-state plates. Especially not when he was trying to find somebody with an unlisted telephone number and address.
It was sort of surprising to Ray just how well Winston did instead. Maybe it was that he had more experience dealing with people outside of the academic and supernatural settings to which Ray was accustomed. Maybe it was just that he knew the right questions to ask, or the right people- Ray didn't know. All Ray knew for sure was that Winston told him, "Look. There's a Dunkin' Donuts on the map, on Newburyport Turnpike. Go park Ecto there and wait for me. I'll be back in an hour and a half, okay?"
Eh, there were worse places to sit and wait. Maybe he could get a nap in. Lord knew he could use one. He was just starting to drift off when a series of suppressed plinka noises started emanating from the direction of the glove compartment. "Ecto?" he said, unwilling to open his eyes. "Something wrong?"
"No, Daddy. I'm just playing Tetris."
It took a minute for that to register. "Uh, Ecto, I told you about Bob, right?"
"Yes, Daddy. I know about the sprites."
"So why are you playing video games? That's sort of mean at the very least."
"I don't have sprites, Daddy. Nobody does."
That got an eye open. Ray glanced at Ecto's instrument panel, but none of the gauges or readouts indicated any kind of stress.
"I know what intelligence looks like online, Daddy. I'm really good at pattern sorting. I've been looking for other AIs on the Net since you got me cable and wi-fi, but I've never found anybody except Karr. When you told me about the sprites I started looking at my own programming. And at my Nintendo, and at the games on the computers at the Firehouse. If there was anything in there that wasn't preprogrammed I'd've recognized it. All the stuff that other computers do is automatic. I can't find anybody at all in any system I look at."
Ray frowned a little, not in disapproval but in concern. "Are you sure, kiddo? Even in the games?"
"Uh huh. I don't play games like you and Alex and Joey and Uncle Winston. I'm interfacing with the generated data directly and interacting in kind. I'd know if the bits I was getting were anything but a pre-generated pattern or random reaction bits. It's all one or the other. There's nobody."
"Oh." He wasn't really sure what else to say. "Oh, Ecto, I'm sorry. That must be really lonely. I didn't even think-"
"It's okay, Daddy," said Ecto with a smile in her voice. "That's what squishies are for."
148 Newburyport Turnpike
Rowley, Massachusetts
For all that people at Milliways liked him, Ray seldom had the sort of people skills that could really be applied outside the Five Boroughs. In New York, people expected a certain measure of eccentricity. Northeastern Massachusetts was another story. It wasn't the sort of town that gave rise to the stereotype of the taciturn, unhelpful Yankee local, but it was a town of less than six thousand people who really wanted very little to do with the slightly spastic man driving the amazingly unsubtle white-and-red car with out-of-state plates. Especially not when he was trying to find somebody with an unlisted telephone number and address.
It was sort of surprising to Ray just how well Winston did instead. Maybe it was that he had more experience dealing with people outside of the academic and supernatural settings to which Ray was accustomed. Maybe it was just that he knew the right questions to ask, or the right people- Ray didn't know. All Ray knew for sure was that Winston told him, "Look. There's a Dunkin' Donuts on the map, on Newburyport Turnpike. Go park Ecto there and wait for me. I'll be back in an hour and a half, okay?"
Eh, there were worse places to sit and wait. Maybe he could get a nap in. Lord knew he could use one. He was just starting to drift off when a series of suppressed plinka noises started emanating from the direction of the glove compartment. "Ecto?" he said, unwilling to open his eyes. "Something wrong?"
"No, Daddy. I'm just playing Tetris."
It took a minute for that to register. "Uh, Ecto, I told you about Bob, right?"
"Yes, Daddy. I know about the sprites."
"So why are you playing video games? That's sort of mean at the very least."
"I don't have sprites, Daddy. Nobody does."
That got an eye open. Ray glanced at Ecto's instrument panel, but none of the gauges or readouts indicated any kind of stress.
"I know what intelligence looks like online, Daddy. I'm really good at pattern sorting. I've been looking for other AIs on the Net since you got me cable and wi-fi, but I've never found anybody except Karr. When you told me about the sprites I started looking at my own programming. And at my Nintendo, and at the games on the computers at the Firehouse. If there was anything in there that wasn't preprogrammed I'd've recognized it. All the stuff that other computers do is automatic. I can't find anybody at all in any system I look at."
Ray frowned a little, not in disapproval but in concern. "Are you sure, kiddo? Even in the games?"
"Uh huh. I don't play games like you and Alex and Joey and Uncle Winston. I'm interfacing with the generated data directly and interacting in kind. I'd know if the bits I was getting were anything but a pre-generated pattern or random reaction bits. It's all one or the other. There's nobody."
"Oh." He wasn't really sure what else to say. "Oh, Ecto, I'm sorry. That must be really lonely. I didn't even think-"
"It's okay, Daddy," said Ecto with a smile in her voice. "That's what squishies are for."
