"<As best we can tell, at worst, their civilization intermittently becomes convinced that a chatbot has reached sentience.>"

"<But they're also responsible for programming the chatbot?>"

"<Yes.>"

"<So, then, who programmed the AI behind their subjugation?>"

"<There is no AI.>"

There was a long silence.

It was the sort of long silence that grew more tense and uncomfortable with each passing moment. It wasn't so long that anyone was compelled to interrupt, however.

Uncertain glances ricochet off any surface that happened to be in range.

If someone were to write about the silence, try to convey how it felt to be a part of it, explain the way it protracted seemingly unnecessarily but without any particularly clear offramp, they would find it very difficult to accurately portray. There would unlikely be any way to make the reader truly feel as though they were "part of the action."

It was a real whirlwind of a silence.

Eventually, someone had to take charge of it.

"<Well.>" The stalwart leader lead, "<What do they call it then?>"

"<No, sir, they don't call it anything. There is no AI.">

Ah. How could he be so stupid. Kudos to his new lieutenant's erring on the side of caution.

"<This is an impenetrable room, lieutenant. I admire your dedication to safety, but let me assure you, we can speak freely.>"

"<Yes, sir, that's precisely what I'm doing.>"

He stared with renewed concern. Maybe there was a message in his blinks. Was part of his conscious still trapped within the mechanisms of the AI?

He spoke louder, hoping to get through the dense fog of virtual trappings.

It was his job to make sure his crew was safe, and when they weren't safe, to at least feel safe.

"<LIEUTENANT, I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I HEAR YOU. NO AI. UNDERSTOOD. OBVIOUSLY, IF THERE WERE AN AI, I WOULD ALREADY HAVE FORMED A PLAN TO RETRIEVE ANY MEMBERS OF MY TEAM WHO'S MIND IT HAD CAPTURED. OBVIOUSLY, HE WINKED AT HIS LIEUTENANT, THAT WON'T BE NECESSARY>"

An observer might think it was a ridiculous attempt at a sort of surrealist humor, if they were to read a transcript of the conversation. Maybe they would roll their eyes at the old trope, a technologically advanced species having conversations that insinuated a complete lack of self awareness.

It would be ridiculous, verbalizing a wink. Unless you dealt with rogue AIs on a regular basis.

Anyone who had had had no need for explanation.

"<Captain, please I-->"

The captain was already out of the room shouting things like "all hands!" and "ready the [components]!"

The planet Earth was about to engage in the most confusing war.

It would later be capitalized: The Most Confusing War.

Colloquially it would eventually become known as "TF War." Some people would call it "The TF War" and others would mock them for being redundant, like with "ATM machine."

For now, however, the lieutenant was left wondering in silence. Should he have hyphenated before or after the end of his speech demarcation?

No answer came to him.