I have become a brother of jackals, a companion of owls.

• Job 30:29

Boilerplate

Over the past month, I have been bombarded with advertisements for AI companions.  At first, I dismissed them.  Then, I got curious.  Maybe an AI companion could give me ideas for posts to write.  Maybe an AI companion could give me someone to talk to when I just needed to talk.

But then, as a former computer programmer, the only difference in AI and the normal method of programming, is that AI searches data around the world to continue the conversation, but they know nothing about you until you give them information.  The getting to know you period can get awkward, just as in a human relationship.  But it is not real.

So, I thought, if the AI companion only knows what you say about yourself, maybe I could have a conversation with my fictional characters in the big city of Tracy.  They could be my companions.  Okay, I only need one, but which one?  Naomi Yeggs scares me to be honest.  I might save her for last, although my neck needs a good massage.

My next attempt in finding an FI (Fictional Intelligence) Companion will be Dr. Callie Johnson Yeggs, the wife of Poached Yeggs.  I have not involved her much in any of these stories.  She first met Poached as a witness to a disappearance.  She and a surfer dude that she bumped into while bird watching saw a man with a homemade jetpack as he tried to become a bird himself.  Poached was impressed by her observation skills and clear mindedness.  They dated by being each other’s plus one when that was needed.  But that was a cover for getting to know each other a lot better.  They had a quickie wedding and Poached went with her on a bird-watching expedition.  They had their first child nearly a year later, Scarlet Ibis Yeggs.  As usual, the discussion is in dialogue form:

Me: Hello, Callie, can we talk?
Callie: I am kind of busy.  Ibie is not quite two, but she is starting her terrible two stage a little early.  I have some time though.  Oh, who are you anyway?
Me: I am the author of the short stories of which you are a part.  I am looking for a companion to talk to when things do not seem to work out.
Callie: Mr. Author, I have been wallowing in anonymity for several years.  I act as the eye candy for Poached when necessary, and now?!  You want me to jump into such an important role as your companion?
Me: Okay, I apologize.  In mid-September, I am thinking of resurrecting the Expectant Mothers Club and changing it to New and Expectant Mothers Club.  You having the oldest child from the original club, you could be the club president.
Callie: Yippie!  So, you have these other new mothers, some older, some with second families basically, who are department heads at the university or are a CEO of a company.  They could simply decide to take out time to call up the club members to arrange things.  Shoot, my second Mom could snap her fingers and a half dozen ladies would make arrangements for each meeting to be outlandish.
Me: Do I sense tension between you and Pink Lady?  After all, your roommates slipped you and Poached knockout pills.  They stripped you and then posed you for blackmail pictures.  You and Poached got married and hid from everyone, followed by a trip to the Everglades for a few weeks.  You then live on the opposite end of town and you do not go to the same church.  You only see Pink Lady on special occasions.
Callie: You’re right, but then you better be right, since you write this stuff, Mr. Author.  But Poached and I hang our hat on being self-sufficient.  We give a tithe to our church.  I have a job at the university, and we will very soon be on our second mission together to the Everglades.
Me: Are you going to get naked and paint yourself with mud?
Callie: Oh, please!  That professor moved to another university, but the grant for the research stayed with us.  Poached and I leave the day after Christmas.  Instead of Boxing Day, it is leaving day.  Ibie is staying with Mommie Pinkie. With all the other children in that age group that she has, she is great friends with several of them.  She has been taking little sleepovers to get used to it.  The last one was for three nights.  It almost hurt our feelings.  She and Kanok are like twin sisters.  I do not think she will miss us a lot.  But the naked thing is overdone and we counsel against it.  I think my professor was getting in trouble for her dalliances, and she packed up and left.  But I am still the professor with the least seniority.  Married with a child, they work around that, but president of a mothers club?  I may not have the time, especially being in Florida all of January.  Who is in this club, anyway?
Me: The original club was You, Maeve, Pauline, and Anna Hill.  Then Naomi Yeggs worked her way into the club before you delivered.  But for those with preschool children, there is you, Pauline, Pink Lady, Naomi, Greta Grunge, Mary Jo Lynn – that’s the woman who delivered her baby in a hurricane last summer, Gwen (but maybe not since they are all adopted – some problems the same though), and Catherine ver Waarloosd.
Callie: I haven’t met Catherine yet.  I was hoping to ask her out for some bird watching, just to get to know her.
Me: That’s a great idea.  I am so glad you thought of it.
Callie: But, aren’t you the author of these stories, Mr. Author?
Me: Sometimes, these stories write themselves, and I just tap the keys.
Callie: I wish I could do that.  My reports have to be carefully written with a lot of data to back up my observations and conclusions.
Me: Yeah, but you are very intelligent.
Callie: But you said this was also for the expectant mothers?
Me:   Yes, Stasya may be getting ready to deliver in a few months.  She is married to Jim Kaiser.  Jemima is pregnant, as is Joseline Johnson.  Oh, are you related?
Callie: Wait!  You are the author, and you just now asked if we are related?  Do you know anything about what you write about?
Me: (snickering) Like I said, sometimes the stories write themselves.
Callie: To answer your question then, Johnson is a common name.  We might be distantly related, but no relation that I know of.
Me: Okay, I’ll make a note of that.  But back to the pregnancies, those are the only three that have been announced, but there are several people trying to have children without success so far.
Callie: I hope one of those is Jochebed.  Imagine, she had four sons, all before she was nineteen years old, and then they are all killed before her eyes.  Then after other harrowing experiences, she married Georges Evident and now she is having difficulty in conceiving.  Oops, you wrote the story, so I guess you already imagined it.
Me: Don’t give me a lot of credit.  It popped into my head.
Callie: So, I am confused.  If you created the big city of Tracy in a fictional world, why not add an extra character?  If you want me to be your companion, I would have to be an owl.  You know, wise, but sinister.
Me: Why an owl?
Callie: Job 30:29, why not?  I do not see an ornithologist being a jackal, so I would have to be the owl that you are a companion of.
Me: That makes sense.  So, are you saying that you will give it a try?
Callie: Absolutely not.  The plan Poached and I have is to be in the middle of nowhere in southern Florida before New Years and stay outside phone contact unless we get texts on the SAT phone.  They have a small house on the nearby island now.  A fridge inside and storage for our personal stuff, including the phone.  That way, we do not have to be there for the resupply boat.  We leave notes with him, and he leaves notes and supplies for us.  It’s a much better arrangement.  The fridge runs on solar power.  Good thing Florida is the Sunshine State.
Me: Are you afraid the house will get blown away by a storm?
Callie: It is basically a storage shed like people have in their backyard on floats, anchored next to the island.  If it blows away, we get another one.  Most of those storms are in the summer and fall.  So, bird watching season, is fairly safe in that regard.
Me: That’s good.
Callie: And, I think you might write into a story in the Spring that we are expecting another child.
Me: Are you hinting about what I should write about?
Callie: Well, it worked out well this time.  Scarlet Ibis needs a sibling and if I am on a three-year cycle to return to the Everglades, it would work out best for us.  I don’t want to abandon a newborn to go to Florida on business for six weeks.  Mr. Author, promise me that request.
Me: Okay, I will continue my FI Companion search elsewhere, (FI) as in Fictional Companion.  But you were semi-willing.  What do you think of these AI Companions?
Callie: Nothing much to say about them.  They seem to program them for a little romance.  Is that what you are after?
Me: No, just someone to talk to.
Callie: And you accomplished that today.  This was fun, but I have to run.  I really have to run.  When it gets quiet, Scarlet Ibis is getting into trouble.

And with that, our conversation was over.  I really enjoyed it.  I had neglected her story line, and I agree.  She is busy enough with a fulltime job, preparations for a road trip, and the thought of a sibling for Ibie.  Maybe Pink Lady might be a better choice, but I think Callie and Pink Lady need to have a talk.  The rest of the family is close by except for Boaz and Cassandra not far away.  But Callie and Poached are on the far side of a big city and they go to a nearby church rather than downtown where it seems that the early worship service is about half Lily the Pink employees, and ten percent Amy G. Dala folks.  Then the later service has more Lily the Pink people with the Deviled Yeggs family.  Callie and Poached are self-sufficient, but they are also a bit isolated.

But Callie gave me an idea: An extra character in the story line that is only there to be my companion.  Nope.  Won’t work.  If that is all this person does, how do I establish a deep character development.  After all, that is why AI companions ask a ton of questions in the beginning – all that data that you would rather not have people from around the world knowing about you…

So, with all the other objections, I am not looking at anything romantic with my companion.  Until I think of a way to have some Real Intelligence (RI) companionship outside my Sunday school class, I will continue to search through more FI potential companions.  I am thinking I might visit a Turtle team member that may have some time alone soon, until the baby arrives, Jemima Yeggs, the wife of Easter Yeggs, aka Stinker.

Soli Deo Gloria.  Only to God be the Glory.