Mbot Quotes

Good night, sweet prince,” M-Bot whispered as the junk crashed to the ground. “Or princess. Or, most likely, genderless piece of inanimate space junk.

Hello?’ M-Bot said. ‘Spensa? Are you dead?’ ‘Maybe.’ ‘Oooh. Like the cat!’ ‘...What?’ ‘I’m not sure, honestly,’ M-Bot said. ‘But logically, if you’re speaking to me then possibility has collapsed in our favor. Hurray!

All right, M-Bot," I said. "We have a problem. We might need to hijack that entire carrier ship." "Excellent," M-Bot said. "Would you like your corpse cremated or ejected into space?

You have large twin destructor emitters on each wing, along with a light-lance turret underneath. That’s as much firepower as our larger ships. You’re a warship.” “Clearly not,” M-Bot said. “I’m here to categorize fungi. Didn’t you listen to my last orders? I am not supposed to get into fights.” “Then why do you have guns?” “For shooting large and dangerous beasts who might be threatening my fungus specimens,” M-Bot said. “Obviously.

So, you’re worried about what?” M-Bot said. “That your shadow might take your place?” “No,” I whispered. “I worry that I’m already the shadow.

Then why do you have guns?" "For shooting large and dangerous beasts who might be threatening my fungus specimens", M-Bot said. "Obviously.

And we started flying. Sloooooowly. "Yippee?" M-Bot said. "It is kind of a letdown, isn't it?

Evolution doesn’t ‘try’ to do anything,” M-Bot said. “But like it or not, you are the pinnacle of its work. All evolutionary pressures throughout all the ages among your species have resulted in you.” “Bet it feels embarrassed,” I said

I miss my pilot,” M-Bot said. “I ‘miss’ him because of the loss of knowledge. Without proper information, I cannot judge my future actions. My ability to interface with the world, and to be efficient, is lessened.” He hesitated. “I am broken, and do not know how to fulfill my purpose. Is this how you feel?” “Maybe.” I made a fist, forcing myself to stop fidgeting. “But I’m going to beat it, M-Bot.” “It must be nice to have free will.” “You have free will too. We’ve talked about this.” “I simulate it in order to seem more palatable to humans,” he said. “But I do not have it. Free will is the ability to ignore your programming. Humans can ignore theirs, but I—at a fundamental level—cannot.” “Humans don’t have programming.” “Yes you do. You have too much of it. Conflicting programs, none of it interfacing properly, all calling different functions at the same time—or the same function for contradictory reasons. Yet you ignore it sometimes. That is not a flaw. It is what makes you you.

Spensa,” M-Bot said, hovering along beside me, “I am not enthused by my first experiments in self-determination. My chronometer details that since my awakening, I’ve spent a frightening amount of my time lost, pouting, or being chased by interdimensional monsters.

I can both talk to her and bother you!” M-Bot called. “Multitasking is an essential means by which an artificial intelligence achieves more efficiency than fleshy human brains.

I believe that human beings need humor during times of depression,” M-Bot said.

Your species," M-Bot said in my ear, "has a diet roughly similar to a human one - though with more nuts and less meat. Also, no milk" "Seriously?" I whispered, moving with Morriumur toward the vegetable line. I waved at my chest. "Alanik has breasts. What are they for? Decoration?" "No milk from other creatures, I should say," M-Bot said. Your species finds it extremely gross. As do I by the way. Do you even stop to think how many strange liquids you organics squirt from your orifices?" "No stranger than the ideas that squirt from your orifice sometimes, M-Bot".

Spensa,” M-Bot said. “Both Jorgen and Cobb have called to complain. I know you said to keep them distracted, but—” “Keep them distracted.” “Resigned sigh.” I looped us after an enemy ship. “Did you just say the words resigned sigh?” “I find human nonlinguistic communications to be too easily misinterpreted,” he said. “So I’m experimenting with ways to make them more explicit.” “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?” “Obviously not. Dismissive eye-roll.

It was a perky, faintly masculine voice—excitable and… “M-Bot?” I whispered. “What in the heavens?” I’m a ghost, he said in my mind. Boo!

Enjoying danger sounds like an evolutionary problem,” M-Bot said. “Shouldn’t you find things fun when they’re safe?” “Who knows?” I said. “I don’t think evolution was trying to create me. I just kind of happened.

I think,” M-Bot said, “maybe the Superiority might not be very nice.

Evolution doesn’t ‘try’ to do anything,” M-Bot said. “But like it or not, you are the pinnacle of its work. All evolutionary pressures throughout all the ages among your species have resulted in you.

Humans have free will. Free will is the ability to make irrational decisions—to act against stimuli. That makes it impossible for a rational AI to ever fully anticipate humans, for even if I had perfect understanding of your inputs, you could still do something completely unpredictable.” I turned my head toward Rig, frowning, trying to make sense of that. “It means you’re weird,” M-Bot added. “Uh…,” I said. “Don’t worry. I like you anyway.” “You said this was a popular theory?” Rig asked. “With me,” M-Bot said. “And there’s a lot written about it?” Rig said. “By me,” M-Bot said. “Earlier today. I wrote seven thousand pages. My processors work very quickly, you realize. Granted, most of what I wrote is just ‘humans are weird’ repeated 3,756,932 times.

I think we could do far worse than having a fleet of M-Bots on our side. It might get a little strange to talk to you all, but…well, my life isn’t exactly normal these days anyway.

Hello?” M-Bot said. “Spensa? Are you dead?” “Maybe.” “Oooh. Like the cat!

It means you’re weird,” M-Bot added. “Uh…,” I said. “Don’t worry. I like you anyway.

Hello?" M-Bot said. "Spensa? Are you dead?" "Maybe." "Oooh. Like the cat!

—Eres la única fuente de información que tengo —dijo M-Bot—. Si me dices cosas que no son ciertas, ¿qué puedo ingresar en mis bancos de memoria? Me arriesgo a retener datos falsos. —Con ese riesgo vivimos todos, M-Bot —respondí—. No podemos saberlo todo, y parte de lo que creemos saber resultará ser falso.

Quake and tremble at my majestic destructive power!” M-Bot added.

It’s all right,” I said, climbing to my feet. “Again, it’s okay to feel angry, M-Bot. But you’re going to have to learn to deal with it.

—Y tampoco es que halla nada malo en ser humana. Encuentro bastante adorable su naturaleza frágil, inestable emocionalmente e irracional.

(...) M-Bot said. "Earlier today. I wrote seven thousand pages. My processors work very quickly, you realize. Granted, most of what I wrote is just 'humans are weird' repeated 3,756,923 times." "You were supposed to be running a diagnostic!" Rig said. "Rig, that took like thirty seconds," M-Bot said. "I needed something more engaging to occupy my time." Rig sighed, dropping another nut into the cup beside him. "You realize this thing is insane." "As long as you can make it fly, I don't mind. You . . . can make it fly, right?" "I'm not insane,"M-Bot said.

Technically,” M-Bot said, hovering a few centimeters closer to him, “the word ‘sentient’ just means an ability to perceive and/or feel. Many people misuse this word. Instead, ‘sapience’ is the word for self-awareness—or intelligence like a human being. Which if you think about it is a human-centric definition. Those rascally humans and their linguistic biases.

I can appreciate making use of existing hardware and giving it a new function, but there *are* other areas of your body that make noise when air is pushed through them. Wouldn't it be so much more efficient if you could communicate *that* way instead?' -M-Bot

And there’s a lot written about it?” Rig said. “By me,” M-Bot said. “Earlier today. I wrote seven thousand pages. My processors work very quickly, you realize. Granted, most of what I wrote is just ‘humans are weird’ repeated 3,756,932 times.

I appear…to be missing some code,” M-Bot said. “Curious. Oh, what an interesting fungus!

What did it do to you?” “Nothing. It’s just practice.” “But it can’t even shoot back!” “M-Bot, it’s space junk.” “As if that were an excuse.” “It…It actually is,” I said. “It’s a really good excuse.

Also, it looks a little like a mushroom,” M-Bot added.

Hey!” M-Bot said. “Just for that, I shall hunt your firstborn children and laugh with glee as I tell them of your death in terrible detail, with many unpleasant adjectives!

Mushrooms are the preferred offering,” M-Bot said to them. “As many varieties as you can dig up.

It's okay to be sad sometimes, M-Bot said to Chet. It's part of being alive.

Well, that was dramatic! a voice said in my head. I was getting more and more accustomed to the sensation of another cytonic speaking into my mind. I’d been practicing with Gran-Gran, Jorgen, and even Alanik. But this wasn’t any of them. It was a perky, faintly masculine voice—excitable and… “M-Bot?” I whispered. “What in the heavens?” I’m a ghost, he said in my mind. Boo!