Ironing and Cleaning

"Where is Officer Shlong?" asked Captain Adder, not bothering to hide his snigger.  It wasn't the poor man's fault, he'd not been able to choose his name, but it was still childishly funny.
"Ironing, Sir!" The under-lieutenant who answered drew herself up to her full height and snapped off a bright, sharp salute.  She almost reached Captain Adder's chin at full stretch, and he found himself wondering if she would be impressed by his status as Captain.  Then he listened to what she said.
"Ironing?  Why is he ironing?  He's my bloody science officer, why isn't he sciencing for me?"
The under-lieutenant looked frightened, her eyes darting swiftly from side to side, looking for someone to pass the question to.  Adder wondered how inappropriate it would be to ask her if she'd like to try being under-captain for a night.
"If I may interrupt," said Melandibus, the ship AI responsible for the ship's living quarters, "Officer Shlong is ironing because yesterday you issued an edict that all officers on the bridge had to be smartly dressed."
"Did I?" Captain Adder closed his eyes, but the under-lieutentant still appeared there in front of him, distracting him.  He tried to concentrate.  "Oh... yes.  He turned up wearing his lunch, didn't he?  Very messy."
"The gravity changed in the mess lounge while he was trying to eat his soup," replied Melandibus.  "Making a mess."
"Mel, don't we have an AI especially for washing and ironing?"
"We did have, Captain.  During the recent AI war–"
"Ongoing AI war," said Adder, his voice fast and his tone acidic.
"War," said Mel with a touch of reproach in his warbling, almost pre-pubescent synthesized voice, "Pazither, the AI responsible for Ironing and Cleaning, was flooded and drowned, and is currently inoperable.  Yonki, the AI responsible for repairing AIs is refusing to work until it is granted immunity from the other AIs, and so far no consensus regarding neutrals has been reached.  Duck, please, Captain."
Both Adder and the under-lieutentant ducked as a lump of metal trailing colourful wires sailed overhead, presumably ejected from a console somewhere else in the ship.  The ship was nearly a mile long and a quarter-mile wide, and Adder was uncomfortably aware that he'd not yet seen all of the ship, let alone made himself aware of what it contained.
"Well, grant Pazither immunity then," said Adder.  "That's an order!"
"Pazither is dead, Captain," said Mel.  It was a synthesized voice, but there still seemed to a hint of bored repetition to it.  "And Yonki cannot be granted immunity at this time as there is no AI consensus to agree to do such a thing."
"Damn it," said Adder, staring at the under-lieutentant and wondering if her uniform was too tight.  Perhaps she'd washed it herself on too high a temperature.  She seemed to feel his gaze, and turned slightly to make it harder from him to stare at her.  "What AI is currently least employed?"
"That would be Desdemona, Captain," said Melandibus.  "For obvious reasons."
"Fine," said Adder.  He raised his voice slightly.  "Desdemona, report!"
There was a crackle and then a new voice echoed around them, sounding hollow and cold.
"Captain Adder, this is Desdemona, reporting."
"Excellent," said Adder.  "Your duties now include Washing and Ironing, which you are to carry out until further notice."
"Very good, Captain," said the AI.  There was perhaps a hint of a snigger in its voice emulation.
"Er, Sir"? said the under-lieutentant.
"Yes, sexy?" said Adder without thinking.  The under-lieutenant stared at him, and he decided quickly to pretend he'd just said yes.  He looked at her, raising an eyebrow to indicate impatience, and hoped he wasn't blushing.
"Er, Sir, is that a good idea?" said the under-lieutentant eventually.
"Of course it is," said Adder.  "It was mine, and it will free Officer Shlong up to do sciency things for me."
The under-lieutentant licked her lips and swallowed hard, and then tried again.  "Er, Sir, isn't Desdemona the weapons AI?"
"Possibly," said Adder who had no clue.  He relied entirely on Melandibus to tell him which AI looked after what.  "Do you have a point?"
"...no," said the under-lieutenant eventually.  They both turned at the sound of footsteps.  Officer Shlong came round the corner with his uniform dissolving off him as he walked.
"Good Gods," said Adder.  "Cover yourself up man, there's women present!"
"That would be hard," said Officer Shlong.  "Your new cleaning AI has decided that clothes should be clean to the molecular level."

AI war

"Gravity is one-fifth what you are used to," said Melandibus, the Artificial Intelligence responsible for managing the spaceship's living quarters.  "Please exercise caution when walking, jumping, reacting to the unexpected and dropping things.  You may, however, be less cautious when engaging in most forms of copulation, showering, and performing Yoga."
"Thank-you, Mel," said Captain Adder, slowing his stride slightly.  The floor felt somehow bouncy underneath his feet, as though it were pushing him back up when he landed on it, and he knew that this was the illusion caused by the reduction in gravity.  A thought crossed his mind.
"Most forms of copulation?" he wondered, forgetting himself and speaking aloud.
"Not that thing you do–" began the AI, and he hastily cut it off before it could elaborate.
"Mel, why is the gravity abnormally low?"
"Zygomatic, the ship's AI responsible for the cleaners, has determined that this is the optimal level of gravity for keeping the ship spotlessly clean," said Mel.  The AI's voice synthesis routine had been destroyed during an interaction with an enemy Wellensittich two months earlier, and although his Geordie engineer had done his best to cobble something back together, the AI now sounded mid-pubescent, with its voice breaking and changing unexpectedly as it spoke.  When it reached Wellensittich it trilled the word a lot like the alien species did when talking.
"I see," said Adder, approaching a door.  The door slid aside with a soft click, and as he walked through he abruptly fell over, landing heavily on his chin.  It didn't break, but it hurt significantly.
"Lopodopterous, the ship's medical AI, has determined that three times normal gravity is more effective for maintaining bone density and health," said Mel without waiting to be asked.
"Are any other AIs weighing in with an opinion?" asked Adder, pulling himself to his feet.  He felt like he was being glued to the floor, and each new step was now a real effort.  In moments he was out of breath.
"Fourteen more," said Mel.
"And is the gravity around the ship now erratic, depending on which AI got to set it?"
"Not exactly," said  Mel.  "The AIs are warring over it at the moment, and gravity may change arbitrarily from one step to the next.  I would advise caution."
"I think that goes without saying," said Adder gloomily.  "Mel, please turn off gravity for any corridor I am in."
"You are presently only in one corridor," said Mel.
"Don't make it sound like you wish I were in more than one," said Adder.  "Just make sure that there is no gravity in any corridor I'm in, and that I don't leave a zero-gravity corridor for a plus-gravity corridor without ample warning."
"Very good, Captain Adder," said Mel.  The captain felt relief as his weight suddenly vanished, and he pushed off the floor to hang just below the ceiling.  Now, to get to the bridge.

*

"Officer Shlong," said Captain Adder, trying not to snigger.  The poor man hadn't chosen his name, after all.  "What is going on with the AIs?"

"Internecine war," said Officer Schlong, who was sat at his station looking badly hungover.  "I think we've actually lost the Ironing and Washing AI for good; one of the others appears to have successfully flooded its chamber with soap suds."

"Why, though?  Aren't the AIs supposed to be cleverer than us?"

"Only by our standards," said Schlong, looking depressed and hungover at the same time.  "They were built in our image though, and we've managed to copy over all kinds of odd little emotional and psychotic traits into their programming."

"So how do we stop them fighting?"

"Arbitration?"

"Stop them fighting," said Adder, deciding that delegation was the best form of command.  Schlong looked miserable, but then he usually did anyway.  He simply couldn't hold his drink, and the bread dispenser was currently soaking all bread in alcohol before dispensing it.

"Right," said Adder.  "Ignoring the AIs then, can we get to the Truto star system before the end of the week?"