The Reports from Captain Waldo Q. James

Supplement to Incident Report: Lost Automaton

The learning visit to the planet0027 in solar system02220 in galaxy00425 was as close to a routine visit as is possible, when L. Wick (Automaton10927) stated a sentence left better unsaid. At the time, none of us knew it was such a great offense, but now we are quite clear that it was the wrong statement to make. L. Wick claimed the large pit in the center of all rooms according to the inhabitants did not exist. This claim silenced everyone sitting at the table at the center of the room, except for L. Wick. It continued to attack the claim with facts that the table did not fall into the hole and that the hole was imperceivable. Once the listing of facts was completed, it moved to a lecture on the burden of Truth. I attempted to hint to L. Wick that its line of reasoning would be cut short, but the hints were not received. L. Wick continued until the host ended the argument like most ontological disputes are ended, with violence. The host blasted L. Wick in its head coil.

Cooling fluid spewed everywhere while L. Wick screamed from its chest speaker. The blaster moved from the decapitated automaton to me to signal that I was next. I did the only thing I could do, I repented for my companion's claim. "I am just as shocked as you are. Please lower your blaster. I have no clue why he said those things or why he continued. I, for one, would never assert such heretical beliefs like my shipmate did here today. It all was deeply disturbing." My decrees were enough to cause the blaster to be lowered. With the blaster no longer the sole item in my intentional space, I was able to turn my head. As I looked at L. Wick he slowly bled out and my host informed me, "Non-believers deserve the non-existence that they tried to place on the hole. It may sound harsh, but it is only to untrained ears. For justice and beauty are one. Therefore, justice will be poetic. Let us continue eating and allow it to experience the non-existence it loves so much." Given that I lacked the prerequisite of a blaster to engage in such an ontological debate, I had no choice, but to allow my companion's body to expire. I turned back around and faced the food on my plate with my hand shoved in my pocket.

With my right hand I began to pick up my utensils and with my left hand I fished around for a remote portable drive. I was not going to let L. Wick's mind expire. I was going to save its life. I picked up my cup in my right hand and prepared a toast to start the sleight of hand. I used the cup in my right hand to symbolize respect for my host's generosity and in my left hand I used the drive to download L. Wick memories and processing software, which symbolized a disrespect of my host's wishes. My left hand felt around the automaton's leg looking for the port, while my eyes stayed fixed on my host. The slowness of the search caused me to add an unbelievable amount of praise to the toast, but luckily praise is an odorless gas when it is about one's self. The host happily listened without the slightest suspension. Once the port was found, I raised my voice to conceal the click of the drive entering the port and moved to finishing my toast.

Now that both hands were free, I could stand up and give a proper end to the toast according to the host's culture. I placed my glass lower than his, showed it to him, then drank the whole cup. The host's eyes gleamed with joy because of my flawless execution of the toasting practice. The joy moved him to return the respect and he drank his whole cup. It was a distasteful liquid, but being a philosopher taught me to deal with many distasteful things. I used that training to keep the liquid down, until the consequences of my action were revealed. The culture only had one toast, after that the banquet was immediately disbanded. The fear from the awareness that toasts meant the end of a meal tightened my stomach and forced the liquid back up. I knew the files needed more time to be transferred and the drive needed to be removed from L. Wick's leg, otherwise I would be found out.

My fate started to draw near in the form of the wait staff. I knew if they were to pull apart the dinner, then either I would be found out or L. Wick would be lost. I needed to stop the end from coming. I quickly scanned my thoughts for an answer, but instead I found a question. Without much forethought, I spit the question out. I asked the host, "What would cause such people to doubt the existence of the hole?" The host was a little taken aback given the meal was finished according to custom, but allowed this oddity because I was an outsider. He waved the staff off and cleared his throat. "Obviously, it cannot be because rationality led them to it because it exists and all that exists is rational. You are a rational person so I know I do not need to convince you of this." I nodded my head and instinctively added a barb question of "That may be the case, but why cannot rationality lead to two contrary conclusions?"