Click. It was an unhealthy obsession, but she didn’t care. Click. It didn’t win her anything. Click. And it didn’t cost her anything but time, and she hated to lose to something so organic. Click. Monkey brains. Click. Meat brains. Click. She knew there was a pattern somewhere, and she was determined to find it. Click. After all, why would they play something they couldn’t win? Click. It had to be there. Click. Somewhere. Click. … Click.

From a safe distance away the strike force watched the robotic form deal the cards with a flurry of clicks, sort them into a series of complex patterns, then shuffle them again. Over and over. It was a game of solitaire invented by a team of five-year-olds. With chaotic rules, ambiguous goals, and a top score that read LOBSTER!, it was the perfect weapon against a race of rationalists.

Now if they could just get the AI to take it home to her hive…