With a quick stretch, Troy could feel his back popping back into position. It felt great, the momentary relief of wear and tear being removed. Yet with so long a time of putting pressure on it, there was a desperate need to give it rest. And, that was exactly what he had planned for it. The last had hereby been finished, leaving the next eight hours to his personal use. Those hours would certainly be used for the one thing, which he had been dreaming about since the start. Troy would get himself some goddamned sleep.
Nothing would be stopping him now! After such a hectic day, this was something he surely deserved. Even the last test had been more mentally draining than it had any right to be. After a sudden twist ending, during the first round, they had been on a continued losing streak.
Adam had lied! For whatever reason, the AI had thought it wise to begin the game off, by losing nearly every single credit in their possession. Soren, that little piece of fabricated excrement, had been more than happy when seeing those two threes. He had certainly enjoyed seeing the slowly fragmenting confidence from Troy.
He could find no reason why he thought it a good idea. If Adam had wanted to start with a smaller amount, there were several better methods to do it with. Why didn't he just raise the bet to a couple hundred before folding? It would certainly have made the whole process a lot faster, giving the two a faster head-start into the actual playing part.
Did he want more data, on how utterly disappointed Troy could be? If so, that operation had been more than successful. The man had failed to consider that the AI would not give a single damn about the outcome of the test. To him, only the process was important. The adventure was more important than the ending. How tragic! Only amateur film-critics had such dumb ideas stapled to their heads nowadays.
Even with the more than a rough start, there had still been some potential for the poker game to turn out splendidly. Who didn't love an underdog, rising from the bottom all the way to the top? Those stories were top sellers for a good reason. It was human nature to support the weakest. Otherwise, Troy would certainly be looked down on a bit more than the usual.
“Complacency is the devil of not working. Only constant vigilance can keep him at bay,” Dr Fidelis proclaimed from ground level, just half a meter down from Troy’s altitude. At their current positions, he was able to look the man in the eyes, without looking upwards. The change from their usual positions was refreshing, making him nearly think that they stood on equal ground.
Wasn't that the truth, though.
“That's why there are angels, sir. We give them the job,” Troy answered. Regret came immediately after realising what he had said. And, much more importantly, to whom he had said it to. Didn't he make a promise to himself, that he would be more respectful of his superiors?
A scratch of the ear came about. Momentary heart-skip happened when he didn't feel the slimness of the earpiece. Was he really forgetting what he had in his hands? Maybe he needed sleep more than he realized.
“Angels don't exist, Troy. Those are made up, in favour of telling us to do our own work,” Dr Fidelis said, happily playing along in their little game. “Now, get down here. If we don't hurry, we’ll have to delay tomorrow's test. We are already late!”
Hurried on by the hyper-enthusiastic doctor, Troy went down the few steps to ground level. Their true height-differences showed as he walked by him, moving towards his little changing room. That curtain certainly hadn't been there for long, but the image shown was more than enough to be a comfort. When he was inside, it was his own, little break time. Voices could penetrate the fabric, but nothing else could get him in there. A safety net, if one wanted to be coy about it.
The skin-suit deflated, after only seconds after entering the protection of covers. Even in such a state, it was hard to get out of the suit. Stressed bodily functions had not been kind to the thing, the arms turning inside out, at his attempt to get it off. The complex fabric stuck to the skin as long as it possibly could, the clamminess having been more than just prevalent. Troy hoped the thing was self-cleaning, or the next few days of testing would not be fun. Maybe Adam would complain about it if he was distracted by it too much. An idea for another time.
With no small effort, he was able to switch over to his regular clothes. Not that much of a step up in appearance, but at least it felt comfier, with the inside not letting its presence known. The curtain separating him from the rest of the room was pulled away, letting him move outwards yet again.
As a unique sight, it was not Dr Fidelis that Troy saw beside the screen. Dr Hale was apparently holding up that particular fort, clicking away on the screen. Not as fast as the usual doctor did, but the speed was still more than he could ever hope to reach.
The switcheroo would have been even more mind-twisting if the good Dr Fidelis had been holding the notepad, scrawling away on it. Unfortunately, that block of paper had met its accidental destruction not too long ago. With the stress of work, they hadn't gotten the time to retrieve a new one. Or, maybe Dr Hale just didn't feel the need to get a new one, her work having already been lost once. No reason to let it become a pattern, right? Memories were more dependable than broken pieces of paper. That much Troy knew at the very least.
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“Any reason for this mix-up of yours?” Troy asked, tugging at his sleeves. They had not yet set themselves properly, leading to a small bit of discomfort. Nothing that a few physical adjustments would fix, though. Just needed a bit more time, before it showed its results.
Dr Fidelis laughed merrily, his intentions for it already showing themselves. Or, the genre at least.
“This darling of a hard worker is doing our shared paperwork. I would do it myself, but she apparently gets frustrated, when she sees me doing it. According to her notes, I take triple her time in writing things down. It's easier for both of us, if she just forges my writing, giving me extra time to work on the tests,” Dr Fidelis explained happily.
If it was the chance to explain something again, or if it was just him breaking several laws, that made the doctor so happy, would never be uncovered. Troy guessed for the latter, but he didn't have the nerve to ask about it. Angering Adam was easy. The AI could only reprimand him for his words. Angering Dr Fidelis… Troy still wasn't sure what would happen. The doctor had been very annoyed around him but had not yet reached the levels of shouting.
One relevant question did come up, though.
“How can you work on the test, if she is stopping you from using the screen?” Troy asked. “Writing with your hands or mind is not nearly as fast as using that device over there. Wouldn't you actually be losing more test-preparation time, when you get help?”
“Oh, Troy, do not even get me started on how much time is spent on nonsense peculiarities. If these tests were self-contained in the writing, preparation-time would be limited to minutes. How I could even pump out a few currently on my mind. Hundreds could be finished in a day, sent in for review, and ready for execution the day after. A streamlined process, showing my ideal world off,” Dr Fidelis said. It wasn't meant to be arrogant, but Troy sure did feel stupid for asking. “Creating a test is much more than a simple idea. If my ideas worked in practice, from the first phase, I would certainly be a happy man. But, no, such things are only in my dreams. Daily, I am forced to modify already existing tests, pre-production tests, and currently being created tests, all so they will fit into the form needed. How could I explain it easily? Ever heard of Brain Wall? Brilliant metaphor, but, I'm not sure you can even find that stuff anymore.
The factor, which I need to take care of, is you, Troy. Or, you're a big part of it, at least. We’re talking a solid… forty? Thirty per cent dependency. Any test created needs to find within the bounds of your mind. It needs to fulfil several criteria, when it comes to your personal worldview, which I will not be stated, for obvious reasons.
Finding those worldviews, without being very obvious in my questioning is hard, you know! I need to know these things if I am to get clear results. Dr Hale has been a great help when push comes to show, but sometimes, one on one is better. It's always better from the source if you get what I'm saying. I already get information directly from Adam, so there's no reason to also branch out.
Now, with that intended message being passed, I also have a question of my own.”
A long answer, with an equally long pause. The question was not said immediately, giving Troy the needed time to process it all in. It didn't help, when he thought the pause purposeful for that sole reason.
It wasn't terribly heavy news. He had had an inkling of it happening. The time needed to prepare each test. It could have been credited to the puzzle room needing to load it all up. With those massive dimensions, it certainly would take a while to do, right. Looking up at it, the height was honestly staggering, being more than fifteen meters high. If not for the wall stopping sight, Troy would not have been surprised to discover it is just as long and wide.
With such size, it had not been hard to make himself believe loading times to be the culprit. Yet, if the whole thing was already loaded, why do they need to wait for a little while more, after having the test explained to them? Was there a loading time upon the loading time? It didn't make sense.
So, the time spent before the actual tests, before Troy even stepped a foot inside the puzzle-room, Dr FIdelis was making the final adjustments, making it all work perfectly. Not just on the mechanics, but on the aesthetic. It would be bad, if Troy saw something slightly disturbing, making him blink in just the wrong moment.
Now that he thought about it, he had been stupid, not figuring it all out.
“What do you want to know?” Troy asked. Dr Fidelis needed a winding to get back on his explanation train, and his words seemed to have done the trick.
“Well, I can't answer that,” Dr Fidelis said. “Listening is important, Troy. I think I just used too long a time telling you just why I couldn't do so. But, for the sake of not repeating myself too much, I'll let this lesson slide by, and get right into the meat of the course. Since I can't ask directly, I will be going the roundabout way.
Why did you mess up the first round, Troy? During the last test, I mean. The two of you didn't even look at the cards, yet you decided to gamble half your credits away instantly. Not the smartest thing to do, you know.”
Was he getting… berated? There was a chance of it, yet he wasn't sure. The tone being used was curious, not intentionally negative. A simply requesting for commentary, not wanting the flaws to be excused.
“We did look at the cards!” Troy defended.
Dr Fidelis blinked, clearly not expecting the simple question to go down that route. He should have been happy about it, really. Wasn't unexpected results the fun thing about this whole concept? Or, was that just a misconstrued idea about it? Troy never did this kind of stuff, and for good reasons.
“Are you sure? With that quick flip of the cards, your eyes wouldn't have had any chance of even seeing the numbers,” Dr Fidelis asked.
“That was the magic of it!” Troy answered. “I did not have to understand the cards. Adam wanted me to only barely look at them. As long as he saw it, he would be able to find out what cards I had, without me having a single clue. It would eliminate any signs, giving him free rein of the signs.”
“... Oh.”
He had stunned his superior verbally.
“What's wrong, sir?”
“... I think I might have an apology to give to a certain somebody,” Dr Fidelis said. He took a few steps in the direction of the already manned screen, before going right back. “Oh, yeah. Remember this morning, where you gave me the extra earpiece? I was able to put the final touches on it, while the poker game was happening. Enjoy it to your fullest! Now, get out of here, so Dr Hale and I can get the final touches on the test. Work never stops coming, as you may know.”
And, off he was, whispering words to Dr Hale rapidly. The whispering was mirrored, with both never stopping, while Dr Hale continued her pace on the screen. Troy would have stayed a bit more, just to see, if he could get any more clues of the next test. But, when it came to rest and future work, his brain showed where its long-term planning was left behind.
He had too much to do still.