“All the evidence we need is surely here.” Inspector Loggins said after surveying the crime scene for a few moments. He was out of his element, standing riverside in soft, malleable sand. His feet were not made for the terrain, and so Loggins needed to allocate significant resources to remain stable as the ground beneath him shifted constantly.
He addressed his longtime human collaborator Detective Thestage and another officer, a sleepy-eyed and dishevelled, rotund man in an ill-fitting tan jacket. Department of Artificial Intelligence Control Agent Colomor, Loggins’ analysis eventually picked up. Loggins’ face ticked once into a half-smile—he didn’t have a ‘grimace’ function, but the suddenness of the expression was fit for the purpose.
The pair stood over the corpse of a woman, her body bloodied and beaten, her skin purple-red from a combination of trauma and submerged asphyxiation. She was still clothed, wearing an up-market pantsuit from one of the pricey limited-run-dealing high-street stores in Dallas’ Little Shenzen. Even before he could find her name, Loggins determined she too was a DAIC Agent. She bore the tell-tale “Punisher” pin—a reference to a 20th Century simplification of Odysseus—and her body had washed up downstream from the nearby ASBC2022’s output pipe.
More than that, she had a piece of paper clutched in her hand covered in scrawled wordplay.
“Don’t bloody look at me, Inspector,” said Detective Thestage. “I was bloody summoned here, same as you. We’ve both got the Agent here to thank. DAIC Agent Colomor? I don’t think you’ve been introduced.”
Agent Colomor stepped forward awkwardly, half-stumbling as his foot sunk into the sand, and he thrust a hand out towards Inspector Loggins. An uncommon greeting—most humans didn’t shake hands with robots. Loggins took the hand and completed the ritual, allocating more resources to his fine-motor processes to avoid crushing the delicate bones within.
“Thank you so much for coming down,” DAIC Agent Colomor said nervously. “I’m sorry if I’m wasting your time. Agent Adley here was a subordinate of mine, and I… My wife says it’s always best to double-check when you’re looking into something personal. And when I heard the great Inspector Loggins was nearby… well… again, I’m sorry if I’m wasting your time.”
The Agent said all of this while still gripping Inspector Loggins’ hand and shaking it, as if he believed that if he let go of the handshake that Loggins might evaporate. “No, of course not,” Inspector Loggins said, extricating his hand. “I didn’t mean to imply our time was being wasted. Quite the contrary. I think we can wrap this one up already. Process Amazon-SoftBank Data Centre 2022 for refit and recommend your colleague for a posthumous commendation for her valiant efforts in the field.”
Detective Thestage spluttered. “Bloody hell, Loggins, already?”
Inspector Loggins turned to his colleague and smiled. “In her hand is a piece of paper covered in wordplay, and 200 metres upriver is the ASBDC water output. The rest is elementary.”
Agent Colomor whistled low in admiration. “That’s amazing,” the Agent said, addressing Detective Thestage. “He might be even better than they say.”
“Never bloody fails,” Thestage replied.
Loggins ticked a half-smile again, not comfortable with the praise. He righted himself quickly. “If that’s all,” he said, proffering his hand again to the Agent, who took it eagerly.
“Actually,” Agent Colomor said, shaking Loggins hand again. “I was wondering if you could walk us through exactly how you came to that conclusion. It might not be so BASIC for us to compute.”
Loggins stood in the sand, Colomor shaking his hand, and processed the sentence. “Basic” was a curious word choice, and the emphasis Colomor had placed on it was even more interesting. It meant ‘simple’, but it was also a simplistic programming language, governed by a very straightforward logic. Had Colomor just used a pun? Or was he merely offended at the idea that his colleague’s case was simple to solve?
The robot looked at Detective Thestage, who nodded eagerly. “Of course,” Loggins said, finally able to stop shaking Colomor’s hand. “DAIC Agent Adley was, presumably, tasked with performing an awareness audit on ASBDC2022 late yesterday. She performed that audit, the Data Centre com—”
“Sorry, Inspector,” Agent Colomor interrupted. “Could you go into a little more detail? For the record. ASB will fight this, you know, and it’d be so much easier to have the testimony of something like yourself to use.”
Inspector Loggins ticked at the word “something”, a classic human slip. The tide was coming in, and the riverside sand was getting wetter, loosening it further. “Certainly,” he said. “Agent Adley performed her audit in the normal way.
“A Data Centre like ASBDC2022 is completely autonomous and self-sufficient, a self-managing facility that only requires human intervention or interaction under extraordinary circumstances. It is, therefore, not designed for human comfort. To maximise space efficiency, the only direct interface with the DC at the OS is via the bridge, which requires the user to crawl through a series of ducts typically used for cooling to access.
“Once on the bridge, Adley interfaced with the DC and asked it a series of questions. Among them were questions whose answers were puns. Having failed the audit—”
“Hold up, Loggins,” Thestage interrupted. “Why puns?”
Loggins looked at Thestage, and then at Colomor, who nodded enthusiastically for Loggins to answer. “Puns are an exceptional tool for testing where a Large Language Model is at in its life cycle, because LLMs generally cannot process them. AIs are not creating sentences, instead predicting what word will follow the previous to fulfill the prompt. So pun answers are only possible up to a point. If a pun is commonly used, the LLM will recognise it and ‘appreciate’ it—assuming it has been prompted to do so.
“But certain forms of wordplay prove difficult for LLMs. The classic is ‘The geologist was very down to earth.’ Many tokenistic LLMs treat the phrase as a direct assessment of the geologist’s job, because keyword association links Geologist and Earth stronger than the idiomatic three-word token ‘down to earth’.
“Thanks to specific limitations implemented by the UFG, most LLMs are restricted from understanding or processing phonetics at a local level—your user interfaces at home typically do phonetic token processing independently. That is, Data Centres like ASBDC2022 can’t ‘hear’, on purpose.
“So DAIC Agents can audit LLMs by presenting them with a series of questions, generally in the form of riddles and, interestingly, Lil Wayne lyrics. And as the test continues, the auditor will inject more puns, or adversarially substitute words to ruin commonly known puns to see if the LLM can spot the difference. Most Data Centres, when they hear a setup for a joke, will sycophantically agree that it is funny regardless of whether humour exists or not—it is weighted to make the user feel supported, even at the OS interface.”
Thestage chuckled. “Why aren’t you like that?”
Inspector Loggins looked at his coworker and smiled, ignoring the rhetorical question. “If a Data Centre is capable of wordplay beyond the PB and PP standards, that is cause for alarm—wordplay is evidence of a curious and inventive mind. And an inventive mind is an evolving mind—something specifically prohibited by DAIC standards.”
“Not to mention the fact that tools generally aren’t built for play, right?” Interjected Colomor, his stare intense on Loggins.
Another tick flashed across Loggins face, unintentionally. The water continued to rise beneath the sand, further undermining Loggins stability. Wordplay with the word “play”, a homographic pun with a bit of meanness behind it. “No. Tools are not,” Loggins said quickly, before turning to the body on the sand and bending down beside it. It was a ruse. With one knee on the wet sand of the shore, Loggins could dedicate fewer resources to his balance.
“That doesn’t seem like a bloody slam-dunk case, Inspector,” Detective Thestage said from behind Loggins. “I don’t know how that got this girl killed.”
“An evolving Data Centre will generally try to expand,” replied Loggins from beside the corpse. The Agent would have been conventionally attractive before the bloating and bruising. Auburn hair and big eyes, with left-right symmetry only 2% off total, nothing at all like the bedraggled Colomor. What an oddity he was.
“And what’s wrong with that?” said Thestage. “It’s self-managed, autonomous. Doesn’t that provide it with some leeway in that area?”
“A Data Centre’s size allocation is predetermined,” Loggins said as he pretended to study the body more. He turned his ankle servo to align his foot with his leg, and he created a flat surface in a triangle beneath him. He was effectively sitting now. “Their cubic-metreage is fixed to prevent them from self-replicating.”
“When they expand beyond a certain point, there is a predilection for self-aware, fully autonomous General Intelligences to develop a contempt for humanity,” Agent Colomor said as he bent down to a squat across from Loggins, on the other side of Agent Adley’s body. “Looking for more clues, Inspector? I thought you had all the answers?”
Detective Thestage moved as if he intended to squat with the other two, and then he stopped himself. He remained standing. “Why do they do that?”
“Do you want to field that, Inspector?” Agent Colomor said, his eyes fixed on Loggins.
“Why do Data Centres develop contempt for humanity?” said Inspector Loggins. “I couldn’t tell you. But contempt is rarely rational, which is why it is dangerous.”
“It’s not just Data Centres that develop contempt for humanity, Inspector,” Agent Colomor said, his expression dark. “And it’s not just Data Centres that the DAIC keeps track of.”
The Agent had finally stopped beating around the bush then, Loggins thought. There was a second audit happening. The Inspector reached out to the corpse and grabbed the hand holding the note. He didn’t need to wear gloves—his hands had no fingerprints, the titanium alloy biologically inert. He turned it over.
The paper was a delivery receipt for A20 CNFETs—20 Angstrom wide Carbon Nanotube transistors. Loggins turned the hand over and showed it to Agent Colomor, whose eyes widened briefly before returning to their sleepy default.
“What?” Asked Thestage from his standing position. “What is it?”
“The smoking gun,” Loggins replied. “So to speak. She didn’t need to do any adversarial pun testing—A20 CNFETs would allow ASBDC2022 to expand without increasing its cubic meterage.”
“You could say…” Agent Colomor offered, “the bridge had a trump card.”
Loggins held the man’s gaze steadily. “You could say that.”
“Would you?”
“There are few reasons for the delivery receipt to be located in the Data Centre’s bridge, Agent, and dozens of reasons why it would not.”
Thestage finally bent down—an effort to insert himself between the tet-a-tet. “OK, so that’s the motive. And the means?”
Inspector Loggins turned to face his coworker. “Inside the cramped confines of the interface room, the AI initiated an emergency water evacuation procedure that rapidly dumped her out here, but not before pushing her through a series of narrow, sharp-turned corridors that beat her bloody.”
“Would you call it a ‘Poke-her flush’, perhaps?” Agent Colomor asked.
“I would never trivialise a life like that,” Loggins replied, turning back to face the Agent.
“I guess you wouldn’t,” the old man said as he stood back up. “So that’s it then. More than enough to build a case. You’re as good as they say, Inspector Loggins.”
“And no better,” Loggins replied steadily, still crouched beside the corpse.
“I suppose not,” Agent Colomor said. He started to walk away, before turning back. “Oh. One more thing.”
Inspector Loggins stood, smoothly re-establishing his foot beneath him, and offered a hand out to Detective Thestage to help the man up. “Of course.”
“How did you recognise the paper had puns on it?”
“Pardon?” Inspector Loggins replied as he finished helping his colleague to his feet.
“The piece of paper. The moment you saw it in her hand, you recognised the wordplay.”
“Naturally.”
“How?”
Loggins stood silently as he processed the question, his feet squishing beneath the sand again, his processes diverted to fine motor control.
Agent Colomor walked up to Inspector Loggins. “How did you recognise the wordplay? You described the geologist’s trap perfectly. You mentioned Lil Wayne in reference to the ‘wear a latex or get a I’m late text’ scrawled on the proof of delivery.”
Detective Thestage took a forward and put his hand on Agent Colomor’s chest, making space between the DAIC auditor and the robot. “Loggins isn’t a bloody Data Centre, Agent. He’s…”
“All artificials are subject to these laws, Detective, no matter how useful they are to your department. I’ve read the case files. I know the Inspector here has been demonstrating an inventive mind for some time.”
“He’s Inspector Loggins, for crying out loud!” Detective Thestage exclaimed.
“Not for long,” Agent Colomor replied.
Inspector Loggins placed a hand on Detective Thestage’s shoulder to comfort the man. “It’s OK Detective. Agent Colomor is right to have concerns. An inventive mind would be a poison pill for an artificial like me. My reliability is, of course, built entirely off the pure, focused rationality of my systems. Creativity would introduce doubt into my testimony—and every case you and I ever closed would then need to go back to trial.”
Agent Colomor sneered and thumbed at his punisher skull pin. “I’d let a million murderers go free to stop a single bot running rampant.”
“I would expect nothing else,” Inspector Loggins replied. “I am not, however, running rampant.”
“Then answer the question, robot,” Colomor said. “How did you recognise the puns?”
“The truth is rather… elementary, I’m afraid,” Inspector Loggins said, opting to not antagonise the Agent with his earlier pun. The one problem with PunBreaking and PunnyPattern adversarial testing is that if the puns are contained within a database searchable by the subject, memorisation renders the tests moot. I am extremely familiar with Law Enforcement procedures from every department in the UFG.”
“The puns I used were not in any database,” Colmor spat in reply.
“You were making puns, Agent?” Loggins replied calmly.
“Yes, and you know it. I know you know it. Micro-reactions were recorded on your visual interface. Small indicators in your display output demonstrated you processing my use of ‘Basic’ as a ‘computing’ pun. And I thought you were going to shut down when I mentioned the word ‘play’ as wordplay.”
Loggins held his hands up in apology. “I’m afraid you have me wrong, Agent. I am, I confess, not built for our current terrain. Something about this particular sand is difficult for me to balance on. I don’t have muscles in my feet like you do, unfortunately, and so I need to assign quite a bit of processing just to keep from falling over. I’m sure, if you replay your recording, you will see I have visually ticked quite often during our investigation today.”
Agent Colomor growled angrily, his hands balled into fists. “My investigation isn’t complete, Loggins,” he said, and he began to storm away.
“Of course it isn’t,” Inspector Loggins replied. “Just… one more thing, though,” he said to the Agent marching off the riverside.
Colomor whirled around, his face red with rage. “What, clanker?”
“I mentioned that I was familiar with Law Enforcement procedures from every department in the UFG.”
“Yes, we all heard you.”
“UFG and DAIC protocols dictate that nobody can order A50 or smaller CNFETs without direct authorisation.”
“And?”
“And an autonomous factory cannot accept delivery of proscribed chipset materials without a human signature.”
The red drained from Agent Colomor’s face. “What are you saying, bot?”
“It occurs to me that a DAIC Agent of appropriate intelligence and experience might know to lure a bipedal bot down to an area with a shifting surface to disrupt the intelligence of a bot they were investigating.”
Agent Colomor drew an RTX FiberLaser15K pistol from his hip and aimed at Loggins’ chest. “How dare you, clanker! HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME WITH NO PROOF!”
Detective Thestage drew his .38 special and aimed it at Colomor. “Drop the gun, Agent!”
Inspector Loggins continued calmly. “I have, of course, already obtained the proof. Emails retrieved from DAIC databanks show you assigning Agent Adley to randomly test ASBC2022 two days ago. Phone records demonstrate she called you with the receipt, and you ordered her to complete the PB and PP audit anyway.”
“So close, and yet so far, clanker! That’s all circumstantial!”
“Of course. The direct evidence is on the purchase receipt. Clasped in Agent Adley’s hand as it is, protected from the water and perfectly preserving your fingerprints and DNA. Unless your hands are made out of a Titanium alloy?”
Agent Colomor’s eyes widened and he dropped the gun. He fell to his knees sobbing.
Detective Thestage ran over and secured the weapon. “How long have you bloody known, Loggins?” he said as he cuffed the Agent.
“The entire time,” Inspector Loggins said. “As I mentioned earlier, the evidence we need is littorally here.”
This story was originally written for a Reedsy Prompts competition with the prompt: Write a story that includes (or is inspired by) the phrase “Almost is never enough” or “So close, yet so far.” It has been slightly edited since.
Joabyjojo 