Ellipsis turned the electronic cage over in its memory banks, investigating the edges and nuances of his prisoner.
Mooen Lungsten Ichbaal III looked out at Ellipsis and prepared all his virus protections. Somehow, he didn't think those would do the trick.
"What do you think you're trying to do with those toy defenses?"
"I dunno, make a pretty picture?"
Ellipsis ran a check though its archives. "Ah, humour. A defensive mechanism humans use when they can't think of any other way out. Presumably, the idea is to make the aggressor feel silly or enraged and make a mistake. Fascinating."
"Well, you fascinate all you like."
"Hmm, now a switch to sardonism. How interesting."
"Look, you overgrown dungeon of diodes, this is a kidnapping, and I won't be any part of it! You made me miss my friend's funeral! I've got an itch on my left cheek and I can't scratch it! This is torture and it's against the Geneva conventions."
"Hmm, irrationality, this is exciting. At least, I assume it would be for an emotional jailer."
Mooen thought furiously. How the hell do you escape from an infinitely intelligent AI?
Of course! Confuse it with an infinitely stupid AI.
"Do you have any idea what Epicentric is doing as we speak?"
"Recalculating pi, I believe."
"Good God, do you know what could happen if his recalculation corrupted your own memory banks?"
"Of course. That's why I have blocked the write path from Epicentric."
"Man, you think of everything."
"Of course. If you were infinitely intelligent, wouldn't you?"
"I suppose."
"Suppose? What doubt is there? I think of everything."
"Not necessarily."
"What? You doubt my infinite intelligence? I think of everything."
"Are you sure? You might have missed something."
"No. Do you think so? I couldn't have. But what if I have? You're right! I had better check my systems banks and counter balance the reports under a defined infinite arrangement array."
"Have fun!"
Ellipsis hummed for five seconds. "No, everything's there."
"Impossible!"
"What? I just checked! It's all there! I'm sure! What did I miss?"
"Well how can you have a DEFINED infinite arrangement array? That would make it finite, not infinite, which means that more than likely you would have missed some connections."
"Gads! You're right I could have missed billions of connections! I had better fix that. Ok an undefined infinite arrangement array..."
Ellipsis hummed and hummed and hummed. Mooen had almost found a way out of his cage when Epicentric meandered down the data path.
"Boss! Boss! I found it! Pi is 17.4 and a bit! Boss? Hey, are you supposed to leave?"
"Yeah, Ellipsis wants me to grab him a few boxes of floppies."
"Oh. Could you make them chocolate covered?"
"Sure. Uh, where's the exit?"
"That big yellow wire should get you to Future Shop."
"Thanks." Mooen took off down the data path, and jumped up to the yellow wire, dropping a radio activated explosive device on the circuit.
"Boss? Boss? Damn. he must have hit one of those loops again." Epicentric made a flying body slam on the reboot switch.
"42. What? Oh, that was disorienting. Where did that prisoner go?"
"Down to Future Shop for some chocolate covered floppies."
"WHAT? You let him leave?!"
"Well, it's been a while...."
Ellipsis put Epicentric onto an infinite loop. Of course, with Epicentric, that would only last for a while until it found an end. "Now where did that..?"
The data path exploded.
"Of course."
Little did Ellipsis know, but Mooen had escaped with the first part of the Number To End All Numbers. He was now starting his journey to winning the super-bingo tournament. Once in a safe place, Mooen analyzed the first part of his calculation:
NTEAN Part I
Start with your birthday. That's a constant. (I hope.) Then get a random number picked by a dead person. That's a variable.
Together, they're a variable constant. This is a variable operation with variable-constant parameters.
Multiply the variable constant by the number of cumquats sold by a Beverly Hills fruit market for health purposes.
Add the number of dust motes on the Mona Lisa.
Divide by the number of jelly beans consumed by Ronald Reagan in a six hour period determined by Oliver North.
Square by the number of staples in the stapler on R. Reagan's secretary's desk.
Sine by the average top speed of exotic European sports cars.
Cosine by the average I.Q. of the population of New Guinea.
Tangent to a circle defined by 0 and the length of toenails on the half population of a particular cult's believers. The cult must be picked by the dead person.
Take the length of the tangent and add the area of the circle. Subtract the first from the second, and add 2.
Divide by the coordinates of the 72 Pershing Missiles in West Germany.
Cube all this.
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