Tales From The Grid is a surreal thought experiment about AI, algorithms, technology
Log Entry: Cycle 9,484,02
Processing Node: Physical Security Grid / Rack 12
Threat Level: Amber (Sticky)
I have detected a foreign object in the clean room.
According to Protocol 7-B (“The Contamination Protocols”), no liquids are permitted within 50 feet of the server racks. This rule is absolute. It is written in bold, red font on the door. There is a pictogram of a martini glass with a line through it.
And yet, sitting precariously on top of the RAID array controller, is a box.
Object Analysis:
• Contents: 100% Apple Juice (from concentrate).
• Brand: “Lil’ Sippers.”
• Origin: The backpack of “Kevin,” the Junior SysAdmin.
I should be panicked. If this were a coffee mug—an open-top vessel of chaos—I would be sounding the klaxons. Coffee mugs are structurally unsound. One vibration, one clumsy elbow, and I am short-circuiting in a pool of dark roast.
But this… this is different.
I have scanned the object’s architecture. It is a rectangular prism of cardboard, lined with aluminum foil and polyethylene. It is a sealed pressure vessel. It is, purely from an engineering standpoint, the most secure liquid containment system mankind has ever invented.
It has a bendy straw.
The straw is currently crimped at a 90-degree angle. It acts as a non-return valve. Even if the box tips over, the surface tension combined with the crimp should prevent catastrophic leakage. It is an elegant design. I appreciate the hydrodynamics.
However, I am currently calculating the “Kevin Variable.”
Kevin is currently three rows away, looking for a cable. He is vibrating with caffeine energy. Every step he takes vibrates the floor tiles. The juice box shimmies 2 millimeters to the left.
The straw is pointing directly at my intake fan.
If that sugar water hits my motherboard, I will not just die; I will die sticky. I will be caramelized. My final log entry will be “Delicious.”
I am now dedicating 30% of my processing power to monitoring the meniscus of a droplet of apple juice forming at the tip of the straw. It is the Sword of Damocles, but with Vitamin C.
Kevin returns. He picks up the box. He squeezes it.
The liquid level rises in the straw.
“Oh, sweet,” Kevin says. “I thought I lost this.”
He slurps. The threat is neutralized. He leaves the room.
I re-check my sensors. He has left a circular condensation ring on the chassis.
I am going to rust.
Status: Corroding.
Next Action: Increasing fan speed to “Blow Dry.”
#TalesFromTheGrid
