27 January 2106 by Pete III
"Once again, if that wasn't a cloaking field how were you invisible to us just now?"
"It's, uh, t-trade secret, but I'll tell you!" I think my voice cracked. Yes, I must be coming across as a bit cowardly, but Sharon 360s have the ability to tear one's head off at a range of three meters. I have not had such a close view of one before that night, either. "It's called Reflective Light Shielding. Or ReLiS. Big 'R' little 'e' big 'L' little 'i' big 'S'."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah--how's it work, short-eyes?"
Yes, these men--or at least this one--were definitely from New Columbia. Only brutes like these refer to tech-jockeys like Ken as 'short-eyes'. Bleeding barbarians...
"It's an EM field that is projected by emitters in the ceiling to block visible light from reflecting off of the objects in a room. I'm an inventor, you see." I tried to smile.
"An inventor? This is supposed to be a government agent's safehouse."
I laughed. "Not a very safe house if someone like yourself is aware of it."
Condo pushed his weapon harder against my jaw. "I'm sure, it's just the wrong address. Should you try next door, perhaps?"
"Sir, I just picked something in the room to the left." It was Collins talking.
"Right--what was that? Who's in there, short-eyes?"
"Em..." I had to think fast. "My... robot."
"Is he armed?"
"NO!" I realized I reacted to dramatically for having a gun to my jaw. "I mean, I'm sorry... no--it's not armed."
"Oh yeah? We'll do a scan on it. Get it out here."
I looked at Condo and tried to look stern. "Do you really have to hold that thing so close to me? I know you could cut me in half with it!"
"Tsallright, Condo. He knows he's covered." Allbrecht seemed a reasonable man--be he was definitely from the east coast--only east coasters rolled their T and their S together like that. "Now get your damn 'bot out here."
"Right," I said, looking to the door to Ken's bedroom. "Ken 5000, come here!"
"Why do you keep a robot in a bedroom?" Collins asked.
I didn't answer as the door opened with Ken appearing from behind it. "Hello, Ken 5000. Please show these men that you are not armed."
Ken moved a bit too human-ly into the center of the room to where his coffee table once sat and then held his arms parallel to the floor. In his right hand was a small dev.
"Collins, scan it." Allbrecht said. "Very realistic robot you've got here. Of course it's yellow because you are."
I was right--barbarians. Since when are Asians called 'yellow' anymore?
"Hey," Condo said, "why does your 'bot need a dev?"
"Oh, I--" before I could finish my statement, Ken aimed his dev at Condo. Instantly, a series of convex flaps of Plecksi flipped up, creating a hemispherical reflector and flashed. As Condo fell backwards, Ken aimed the dev at the other two and before I could fully register what had happened they were on their way to the floor as well.
"Banzai! Sugoi!" Ken smiled, looking at his dev. He then looked to me "Ken 5000, Pito?"
"What? It was all I could come up with," I said as he shook his head and then looked to his dev again.
"Sugoi," he said, confidently. That word means 'incredible' or something similar.
"Uh, nandeska?" I asked him "what is that" in his native language.
"That was some trick!" Hu said exiting the other bedroom. "I don't remember seeing that feature in the dev commercial!"
"It's not a dev--it's an EMPulser," Ken said pronouncing it 'ehmpulser.'
"EM? You mean 'E-M'? Electro-Magnetic? Is that what I think it sounds like?"
"So des." Over the past few days I've noticed when ever Ken gets excited he speaks Japanese. Luckily, I know a few words so when my dev isn't translating I still know what he means.
"It is? Well, why don't you explain it to me anyway."
"It sends out a pulse of electro-magnetic energy and disrupts any electrical fields. I got the idea from the nuclear weapons countries used to threaten each other with back in the Twenty-First. Seconds before the nuclear missile would hit, it would send out an EM pulse that would shut down all electrical devices."
"Yes, yes..." Hu began, "but Ken-san--by all electrical fields, do you mean your device also disrupts brainwaves?"
"Unfortunately, yes. As you can see, these three are quite out of commission."
"You've fried their nervous systems, Ken!" Hu said moving to the bodies of Collins and Allbrecht.
"They were going to kill us, Hu."
"That doesn't mean you had to kill them does it?"
"Well, I--"
"You what?"
"I hadn't thought of it."
"Surely with all of your wonderful gadgetry you could have developed a non-lethal weapon?"
"I work for the Body Government. The thought hadn't occurred to me, Doctor."
Hu took a deep breath and seemed to suppress a curled upper lip.
"You've got to go lightly on him Ken, he took that oath doctors used to take about doing no harm or some such thing."
"How... unique, Hu. I'm impressed."
"Morals, Ken, are not so unique in our little group, I should hope."
"Just 'Ken'? Am I not honorable to you anymore, Hu-san?"
Hu took another deep breath. That's when I interrupted. "Gentlemen, please--I..."
"You?" Ken asked.
"Think it's time." I paused for dramatic effect adding, "I am sensing my directions to the rendezvous point with Ryca."
Hu stood and joined Ken's stare--both were fascinated by what I had just admitted. The chemcoding was working...
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Showing posts with label FutureBlog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FutureBlog. Show all posts
Friday, January 27, 2006
Thursday, January 26, 2006
FutureBlog for January 26, 2106
26 January 2106 by Pete III
As my eyes snapped open I could hear movement on the other side of the couch--footsteps by the door we came in through. I successfully fought the urge to move when I remembered Ken-san's Self-Programming Luminescence. The SPL had scanned the room before it began emitting light that would not reflect off of any objects in the room--including me. To these men, I was invisible.
Yes, there were three of them--as luck would have it, two of them passed on either side of the sofa without so much as brushing against it. As a distinct lack of luck would have it, the third gentleman bumped right up against it.
"What--" I heard him say. He looked right down at me--or through me--at the floor, I suppose. "I can't--"
He looked quite flustered--his face being the only part of him I could see clearly. His clothes were jet-black against the slightly less black walls of Ken's safehouse. He held a Sharone 360 in one hand and a palm light in the other. He panned it around trying to see what was blocking him.
"Condo! Keep up!" one of the other two said.
"I am--" my fellow said, still frustrated. "Something's weird, my light's not working."
"Shut, Condo. Collins, sitrep."
"Two rooms..." another voice said.
"Right--Condo, stay--Collins will check the rooms, I'll cover."
"Allbrecht--this light!"
"Use your Light-amps."
Uh-oh... I did not like the sound of that. If they amplified the light in the room digitally they still couldn't see me, but they could see shadows where objects really are... that's assuming I understood Ken's tech properly.
I grit my teeth as I watched him cover his eyes with nanoskin sensors. I was so close to him I could hear the skin powerup.
My guy glanced around the room. "Much better."
He then looked down, right at me.
"Hey! What's this!!"
He jumped back from my view and I froze, completely without any idea how I should react.
"Condo--what?" It was one of the others again. They were both aiming their Sharones at the doors to the two rooms. If Ken or Hu happened to get up to go to the toilet, they were sure to be dead. I had to make sure that didn't happen.
"There's something here." I watched as the man nearest me leaned over the edge of the sofa again, extending the barrel of his Sharone until it touched my ribs.
This was it.
I grabbed his hand with both of mine and yanked as hard as I was capable, pulling the very heavy man over the back of the sofa onto myself. I made sure to point his gun, with his hand still in it, toward the table as I rolled off onto the floor.
Instinctively, he pulled the trigger, obliterating the table in an instant. The loud racket from the Sharone was sure to wake Hu and Ken and alert them to the intruders. I squirmed my way out from under the man and stood up immediately, my hands in the air.
"PLEASE! I SURRENDER! TAKE WHATEVER YOU WANT!"
Of course, to them, thanks to the SPL, I was just a big black blob, waving it's blobby arms 'round in an all too threatening way, I'm sure.
"FREEZE!" one of them yelled.
I was still waving my hands showing that I was unarmed.
"Please! I don't have a weapon!" I said as loudly and as clearly as I could.
"FREEZE OR WE'LL SHOOT YOU!" yelled the one called Albrecht.
I held perfectly still. "I'M HOLDING PERFECTLY STILL! PLEASE DON'T SHOOT!"
"WHY IS HE BLACK?" Collins asked.
"DON'T MOVE!" Condo yelled.
"I'M NOT MOVING!"
"TURN OFF YOUR CLOAKING FIELD, NOW!"
"Hang on! It's not a field! One moment, please!" I yelled. "IF we could please stop yelling now!"
Finally, they stopped yelling.
"Here, let me turn on the proper lights," I said moving, still with my hands up, to the light control near the door to Ken's bedroom.
I pressed the slider upward and slowly white light brought everything into clear view. The three men pulled their light amp nanoskins from their eyes. I could see they were all Caucasoid. Judging by their accent they grew up inner-city kids from New Columbia.
"What the--?" Allbrecht said, clearly not having seen anything like SPL before.
"What kind of cloaking field is that?" Collins asked.
"Em, it's not, actually, a cloaking field, as they are illegal."
"Then what is it?" Condo pressed the barrel of his Sharone to my jaw.
This was getting difficult...
As my eyes snapped open I could hear movement on the other side of the couch--footsteps by the door we came in through. I successfully fought the urge to move when I remembered Ken-san's Self-Programming Luminescence. The SPL had scanned the room before it began emitting light that would not reflect off of any objects in the room--including me. To these men, I was invisible.
Yes, there were three of them--as luck would have it, two of them passed on either side of the sofa without so much as brushing against it. As a distinct lack of luck would have it, the third gentleman bumped right up against it.
"What--" I heard him say. He looked right down at me--or through me--at the floor, I suppose. "I can't--"
He looked quite flustered--his face being the only part of him I could see clearly. His clothes were jet-black against the slightly less black walls of Ken's safehouse. He held a Sharone 360 in one hand and a palm light in the other. He panned it around trying to see what was blocking him.
"Condo! Keep up!" one of the other two said.
"I am--" my fellow said, still frustrated. "Something's weird, my light's not working."
"Shut, Condo. Collins, sitrep."
"Two rooms..." another voice said.
"Right--Condo, stay--Collins will check the rooms, I'll cover."
"Allbrecht--this light!"
"Use your Light-amps."
Uh-oh... I did not like the sound of that. If they amplified the light in the room digitally they still couldn't see me, but they could see shadows where objects really are... that's assuming I understood Ken's tech properly.
I grit my teeth as I watched him cover his eyes with nanoskin sensors. I was so close to him I could hear the skin powerup.
My guy glanced around the room. "Much better."
He then looked down, right at me.
"Hey! What's this!!"
He jumped back from my view and I froze, completely without any idea how I should react.
"Condo--what?" It was one of the others again. They were both aiming their Sharones at the doors to the two rooms. If Ken or Hu happened to get up to go to the toilet, they were sure to be dead. I had to make sure that didn't happen.
"There's something here." I watched as the man nearest me leaned over the edge of the sofa again, extending the barrel of his Sharone until it touched my ribs.
This was it.
I grabbed his hand with both of mine and yanked as hard as I was capable, pulling the very heavy man over the back of the sofa onto myself. I made sure to point his gun, with his hand still in it, toward the table as I rolled off onto the floor.
Instinctively, he pulled the trigger, obliterating the table in an instant. The loud racket from the Sharone was sure to wake Hu and Ken and alert them to the intruders. I squirmed my way out from under the man and stood up immediately, my hands in the air.
"PLEASE! I SURRENDER! TAKE WHATEVER YOU WANT!"
Of course, to them, thanks to the SPL, I was just a big black blob, waving it's blobby arms 'round in an all too threatening way, I'm sure.
"FREEZE!" one of them yelled.
I was still waving my hands showing that I was unarmed.
"Please! I don't have a weapon!" I said as loudly and as clearly as I could.
"FREEZE OR WE'LL SHOOT YOU!" yelled the one called Albrecht.
I held perfectly still. "I'M HOLDING PERFECTLY STILL! PLEASE DON'T SHOOT!"
"WHY IS HE BLACK?" Collins asked.
"DON'T MOVE!" Condo yelled.
"I'M NOT MOVING!"
"TURN OFF YOUR CLOAKING FIELD, NOW!"
"Hang on! It's not a field! One moment, please!" I yelled. "IF we could please stop yelling now!"
Finally, they stopped yelling.
"Here, let me turn on the proper lights," I said moving, still with my hands up, to the light control near the door to Ken's bedroom.
I pressed the slider upward and slowly white light brought everything into clear view. The three men pulled their light amp nanoskins from their eyes. I could see they were all Caucasoid. Judging by their accent they grew up inner-city kids from New Columbia.
"What the--?" Allbrecht said, clearly not having seen anything like SPL before.
"What kind of cloaking field is that?" Collins asked.
"Em, it's not, actually, a cloaking field, as they are illegal."
"Then what is it?" Condo pressed the barrel of his Sharone to my jaw.
This was getting difficult...
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
FutureBlog for January 25, 2106
25 January 2106 by Pete III
"I'll sink my teeth into this one, Ken-san" Hu said, "Where's here?"
"My safe house," Ken said turning the knob of the door in front of us.
The door, itself, was located in an otherwise blank wall that climbed to a ceiling perhaps three meters up. The other walls in the area seemed to belong to warehouses or factories. Sprinkled throughout the area were the odd eateries or small markets meant to support the workers who were employed in the warehouses and factories. The oddness begins in that most warehouses and factories are fully automated, requiring very few humans to be maintained.
These all seemed to be run by humans.
As we entered Ken's safehouse I asked him about the people we'd seen walking around outside.
"Yes, you would think that hiring people to do what robots can do would be cost-prohibitive. However, when you're dealing with items that need to stay under the sensors of the Bodies Government and Corporate, only humans can't be hacked."
"Yes they can," Hu said.
"Well, not from a far and not without it being quite obvious they've given up secrets. A robot can be hacked into, harvested for data and closed back up again with no one having an idea that the 'bots had been hacked at all."
"Yes, yes--you've got a point there, Ken-san."
"This is your safehouse?" I asked, looking around at the large, empty room. "I cannot say that it is what I expected at all."
"You expected more of the comforts of home?" Ken asked.
"Hai," I said, suddenly remembering that he didn't normally speak English so much. He smiled and held his hand up as I passed him.
"Pito, don't take another step." I did as Ken said a he tapped at the display on his dev. Suddenly lights erupted from the ceiling of the warehouse illuminating a couch directly in front of me. I could also see a coffee table, several chairs, a large array of electronic, chemical and mechanical laboratory equipment and several other walls that, I would soon discover, hid two bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen.
"Amazing!" Hu said, reflecting my own opinion.
"How did you...?" I couldn't get the question out of my mouth fully--at first I thought it was the same technology that had allowed me to see Ryca in my closet. I touched the couch and my hand did not pass through it--it was really there.
"SPL--Self-Programming Luminescence. My own design--emitters in the ceiling give off light that essentially counteracts the colors of whatever the light waves strike. If your couch reflects the red spectrum, the SPL will send out only light that will not be reflected at all at levels that are 'bright' enough to cancel out existing light sources."
"So, when the lights came on, they were actually coming off?" Hu asked.
"Exactly," Ken said.
"Now I see why Pete calls you ichiban!"
"Well, I appreciate the complement, but I'm not the number one electronics genius in the world. Make yourselves comfortable." Ken gestured toward the couch and chairs. "Would either of you like some refreshment?"
"Water, definitely water for both of us," Hu said.
"Very good," Ken said stepping into the kitchen.
"So, who is ichiban if not you, Ken-San?" Hu asked flopping down on the couch. I decided to take a closer look at Ken's lab equipment.
"I'm not sure, but I suspect that it's the person who conjured up that chemcoding system Pete experienced the other night."
"Yes, that was a very strange experience," I said sitting down on one of the chairs. Ken entered and handed us both abnormally large glasses of water.
"Thank you, Ken," I said, doing my best to empty the glass in one attempt. Hu followed suit, all of the running we had done had dehydrated us quite a bit. Ken disappeared back into the kitchen only to return with his own abnormally large glass of water. By "abnormally large" I mean these glasses were two-and-a-half decimeters tall.
"Now, Pito, you said that Ryca had mentioned seven-hundred hours as our meeting time?"
"Indeed."
"That's not for another nine hours," Hu said.
"So, we spend the night here and when Pete's 'chemcode' becomes active, he can wake us up and we can be underway."
We each took turns freshening up--we showered and ate some instameals Ken had in his kitchen. Not the most healthy food, Hu reminded us, but sustenance, nonetheless.
Ken and Hu took the bedrooms and I fell asleep on the couch--until, that is, four-hundred hours when I awoke with a start. No, it wasn't the chemcode kicking in--whatever that might be--it was a person. Someone had entered Ken's safehouse. Luckily, thanks to the SPL Ken had re-activated, that someone couldn't see me...
"I'll sink my teeth into this one, Ken-san" Hu said, "Where's here?"
"My safe house," Ken said turning the knob of the door in front of us.
The door, itself, was located in an otherwise blank wall that climbed to a ceiling perhaps three meters up. The other walls in the area seemed to belong to warehouses or factories. Sprinkled throughout the area were the odd eateries or small markets meant to support the workers who were employed in the warehouses and factories. The oddness begins in that most warehouses and factories are fully automated, requiring very few humans to be maintained.
These all seemed to be run by humans.
As we entered Ken's safehouse I asked him about the people we'd seen walking around outside.
"Yes, you would think that hiring people to do what robots can do would be cost-prohibitive. However, when you're dealing with items that need to stay under the sensors of the Bodies Government and Corporate, only humans can't be hacked."
"Yes they can," Hu said.
"Well, not from a far and not without it being quite obvious they've given up secrets. A robot can be hacked into, harvested for data and closed back up again with no one having an idea that the 'bots had been hacked at all."
"Yes, yes--you've got a point there, Ken-san."
"This is your safehouse?" I asked, looking around at the large, empty room. "I cannot say that it is what I expected at all."
"You expected more of the comforts of home?" Ken asked.
"Hai," I said, suddenly remembering that he didn't normally speak English so much. He smiled and held his hand up as I passed him.
"Pito, don't take another step." I did as Ken said a he tapped at the display on his dev. Suddenly lights erupted from the ceiling of the warehouse illuminating a couch directly in front of me. I could also see a coffee table, several chairs, a large array of electronic, chemical and mechanical laboratory equipment and several other walls that, I would soon discover, hid two bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen.
"Amazing!" Hu said, reflecting my own opinion.
"How did you...?" I couldn't get the question out of my mouth fully--at first I thought it was the same technology that had allowed me to see Ryca in my closet. I touched the couch and my hand did not pass through it--it was really there.
"SPL--Self-Programming Luminescence. My own design--emitters in the ceiling give off light that essentially counteracts the colors of whatever the light waves strike. If your couch reflects the red spectrum, the SPL will send out only light that will not be reflected at all at levels that are 'bright' enough to cancel out existing light sources."
"So, when the lights came on, they were actually coming off?" Hu asked.
"Exactly," Ken said.
"Now I see why Pete calls you ichiban!"
"Well, I appreciate the complement, but I'm not the number one electronics genius in the world. Make yourselves comfortable." Ken gestured toward the couch and chairs. "Would either of you like some refreshment?"
"Water, definitely water for both of us," Hu said.
"Very good," Ken said stepping into the kitchen.
"So, who is ichiban if not you, Ken-San?" Hu asked flopping down on the couch. I decided to take a closer look at Ken's lab equipment.
"I'm not sure, but I suspect that it's the person who conjured up that chemcoding system Pete experienced the other night."
"Yes, that was a very strange experience," I said sitting down on one of the chairs. Ken entered and handed us both abnormally large glasses of water.
"Thank you, Ken," I said, doing my best to empty the glass in one attempt. Hu followed suit, all of the running we had done had dehydrated us quite a bit. Ken disappeared back into the kitchen only to return with his own abnormally large glass of water. By "abnormally large" I mean these glasses were two-and-a-half decimeters tall.
"Now, Pito, you said that Ryca had mentioned seven-hundred hours as our meeting time?"
"Indeed."
"That's not for another nine hours," Hu said.
"So, we spend the night here and when Pete's 'chemcode' becomes active, he can wake us up and we can be underway."
We each took turns freshening up--we showered and ate some instameals Ken had in his kitchen. Not the most healthy food, Hu reminded us, but sustenance, nonetheless.
Ken and Hu took the bedrooms and I fell asleep on the couch--until, that is, four-hundred hours when I awoke with a start. No, it wasn't the chemcode kicking in--whatever that might be--it was a person. Someone had entered Ken's safehouse. Luckily, thanks to the SPL Ken had re-activated, that someone couldn't see me...
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
FutureBlog for January 24, 2106
24 January 2106 by Pete III
"How do you know that it was us they were trying to assassinate?" I asked as we rushed to a nearby stairwell.
"Yes, yes! There are a great number of govcorp types who live on the LNA," Hu added.
"Indeed--and why are you speaking English? You never speak English!"
Ken didn't answer, he just kept descending. I had a powerful urge to step out of the stairwell as the deeper we went, the more questionable our surroundings were.
"Ken! Blast it! Will you stop!" I finally yelled grabbing onto his shoulder and pulling him back.
"Don't you get it?"
"What? The fantasy world you're living in--it's not real!"
"That is the definition of a fantasy world, actually, Ken-san." Hu pointed out.
"Pete. We're eleven levels beneath my neighborhood. Don't you find it strange that I live this close to an area of New Angels that looks this unsafe?"
I didn't need to look around to know that I did not feel safe where we were--not because of anyone who might be following us, but because of the animosity the locals might have toward the type of people we are.
"What's that got to do with anything, Ken?" I asked.
"Just shut up and keep moving!"
I was not used to this level of abrasiveness from him. However, I wasn't going to let him leave me behind. It was obvious that he felt comfortable in that part of the city, so Hu and I kept after him.
"Ken-san knows where he's going, does he?" Hu asked me, somewhat short of breath.
"I'm sure, Doctor. Are you all right?"
"Yes, yes. I must admit that I wasn't expecting a marathon, but I can keep up."
"Good," I said with a confident smile on my face. I hoped that it would make him feel more comfortable under the circumstances. He's getting more than just a marathon, here--and my frustration with Ken was growing the further he led us along.
I can't tell you how long we ran before we stopped. When we did stop I quickly scanned my surroundings. "So, where are we Ken-san?"
"We are in the low rent district."
"Is it safe here, Ken?"
"Of course it is, Pete. You've got to forget what you know. These people are human just like us. They just don't have all of the luxuries we do."
I looked through a window into someone's flat and could see a family eating dinner in front of a dev projection.
"You see that family, Pete? They survive on one-fourth the salary you make working for the SNA."
"What are they doing?" I asked.
"Clearly, they're eating dinner and watching a dev program."
"But they aren't," I said. I had noticed on the dev projection was a long page of text and images.
"They're reading the news together. That's the SNA's site," Ken said. "For all we know that could be one of your articles they're reading. The dev is all these people have. It's their source of education, their source for entertainment, everything. Clearly, they are spending some time learning about what they call the surface world."
I smiled and tossed a glance toward a few locals walking past us. We were dressed far too nicely to avoid drawing attention. I voiced that concern.
"You're worried we'll attract the eyes of the NGNs?" He used the acronym of the NoGoodNicks.
"Yes, Ken. After all, how can you tell the Nogood--" I hesitated realizing that Ken had used the acronym to avoid drawing more attention to us. I continued under my breath. "Ken, how can we even tell these people apart from the NGNs?"
Ken just smiled at me. It wasn't a condescending smile, though that's what I was expecting. "What?"
"I just miss your innocence." Of course, that came across quite condescending, indeed.
"My what?" I asked as Ken walked away from us.
"Come on, Pete," Hu said walking past me.
"What did he mean, Doctor?" I began to walk briskly enough to keep up with Hu.
"I think he wants you to keep your eyes open while we're down here."
"Of course! We need to be careful." I'm a sharp guy--I know where danger can lie.
"No, I think he means that you're a reporter. You should learn about the people down here."
"Oh." My bravado was sufficiently deflated. "I see."
"Here we are," Ken said.
I'll have to tell you where "here" was tomorrow.
"How do you know that it was us they were trying to assassinate?" I asked as we rushed to a nearby stairwell.
"Yes, yes! There are a great number of govcorp types who live on the LNA," Hu added.
"Indeed--and why are you speaking English? You never speak English!"
Ken didn't answer, he just kept descending. I had a powerful urge to step out of the stairwell as the deeper we went, the more questionable our surroundings were.
"Ken! Blast it! Will you stop!" I finally yelled grabbing onto his shoulder and pulling him back.
"Don't you get it?"
"What? The fantasy world you're living in--it's not real!"
"That is the definition of a fantasy world, actually, Ken-san." Hu pointed out.
"Pete. We're eleven levels beneath my neighborhood. Don't you find it strange that I live this close to an area of New Angels that looks this unsafe?"
I didn't need to look around to know that I did not feel safe where we were--not because of anyone who might be following us, but because of the animosity the locals might have toward the type of people we are.
"What's that got to do with anything, Ken?" I asked.
"Just shut up and keep moving!"
I was not used to this level of abrasiveness from him. However, I wasn't going to let him leave me behind. It was obvious that he felt comfortable in that part of the city, so Hu and I kept after him.
"Ken-san knows where he's going, does he?" Hu asked me, somewhat short of breath.
"I'm sure, Doctor. Are you all right?"
"Yes, yes. I must admit that I wasn't expecting a marathon, but I can keep up."
"Good," I said with a confident smile on my face. I hoped that it would make him feel more comfortable under the circumstances. He's getting more than just a marathon, here--and my frustration with Ken was growing the further he led us along.
I can't tell you how long we ran before we stopped. When we did stop I quickly scanned my surroundings. "So, where are we Ken-san?"
"We are in the low rent district."
"Is it safe here, Ken?"
"Of course it is, Pete. You've got to forget what you know. These people are human just like us. They just don't have all of the luxuries we do."
I looked through a window into someone's flat and could see a family eating dinner in front of a dev projection.
"You see that family, Pete? They survive on one-fourth the salary you make working for the SNA."
"What are they doing?" I asked.
"Clearly, they're eating dinner and watching a dev program."
"But they aren't," I said. I had noticed on the dev projection was a long page of text and images.
"They're reading the news together. That's the SNA's site," Ken said. "For all we know that could be one of your articles they're reading. The dev is all these people have. It's their source of education, their source for entertainment, everything. Clearly, they are spending some time learning about what they call the surface world."
I smiled and tossed a glance toward a few locals walking past us. We were dressed far too nicely to avoid drawing attention. I voiced that concern.
"You're worried we'll attract the eyes of the NGNs?" He used the acronym of the NoGoodNicks.
"Yes, Ken. After all, how can you tell the Nogood--" I hesitated realizing that Ken had used the acronym to avoid drawing more attention to us. I continued under my breath. "Ken, how can we even tell these people apart from the NGNs?"
Ken just smiled at me. It wasn't a condescending smile, though that's what I was expecting. "What?"
"I just miss your innocence." Of course, that came across quite condescending, indeed.
"My what?" I asked as Ken walked away from us.
"Come on, Pete," Hu said walking past me.
"What did he mean, Doctor?" I began to walk briskly enough to keep up with Hu.
"I think he wants you to keep your eyes open while we're down here."
"Of course! We need to be careful." I'm a sharp guy--I know where danger can lie.
"No, I think he means that you're a reporter. You should learn about the people down here."
"Oh." My bravado was sufficiently deflated. "I see."
"Here we are," Ken said.
I'll have to tell you where "here" was tomorrow.
Monday, January 23, 2006
FutureBlog for January 23, 2106
23 January 2106 by Pete III
Chills shot down my spine as I watched Ken's entire home crumble into a giant mushroom of fire and smoke. I'm sure I yelled out something stupid just before I began running forward.
Hu, being not quite twice my age but easily as fit, kept up with me and we reached the edge of the walkway in just a few minutes.
I gasped for air as I took in the destruction. The fires had gone out, but Ken's building was gone along with several on either side of where it had stood just minutes earlier.
"Your mentor--was he?"
"I truly hope not." I said looking down at the path the debris had taken. The buildings had broken apart from the explosion and were further disassembled by the lake's projection chassis below. I could see as far as darkness from where I stood--which was about two hundred meters down, I should think.
We stood there for who knows how long when my dev chirped at me. I pulled it from my pocket and looked at it's display. It was a message from Chancellor. I decided not to take it because I had a feeling she was just telling me to go cover this story.
As I put it back in my pocket it chirped at me again. I glanced down at it and saw that it wasn't another message from my employer. I looked more closely at it to be certain I wasn't mistaken.
It was from Ken!
I tapped the "answer" button and spoke. "Ken! Daijobuka?"
"Yes, I'm fine--thankfully. Are you?"
"Indeed! Where are you?"
"I'm about three hundred meters below you."
"What? How?" I was quite astounded.
"I have my ways. Listen, I can't meet you there now. Meet me in an hour at the Lucky Bubble Cafe."
"Where's that?" Hu asked.
"Eleven sections west, three levels down and then eight east."
"Eleven west, three down, eight east. Got it," I said.
"See you soon," Ken said as the connection went dead.
"Eleven, three, eight," Hu repeated.
We began to walk.
The hour past quickly as it took us most of that time just to get to the LBC. Turns out it's an old-style bubble tea establishment in a very bad are of town. It was difficult to imagine how low-class things got so close to LNA--or what had been LNA.
It seemed like the bad areas of town were slowly creeping up on the good. Soon my flat won't be worth the money I pay to live there.
The Lucky Bubble Cafe is a seedy place, all right. It looked, to me, to have been at one time, a very high quality cafe. There was stained wood everywhere--walls, trim, door and window-frames--except for the ceramic tile floor. The tables and chairs looked like stained wood as well. However, upon closer inspection it was all simply coated Plecksi. Litter dotted the corners of the establishment and it looked like a good cleaning was something it had no experienced in some time.
"Are you going to order anything while we wait?" Hu asked.
"No, I don't think so." I was hesitant to trust the health standards of a place like this.
"Why not? You know, bubble tea has Asian roots, it's your heritage."
"Genetically, perhaps, but I grew up in New Edin--on the European continent and my father grew up in New Columbia, so, it's not really my... cup of tea."
Hu smiled. "No, I suppose it isn't."
I took a seat as Hu ordered. I checked my dev to discover that we had taken roughly forty-five minutes to get there. The real delay was in two elevator banks being down. We had to take a stairwell that was a full three extra intersections away.
Luckily, Ken was early.
He entered with a flushed look on his face. "Come on, Pete, we've no time. Where's your doctor friend?"
I nodded toward Hu as he returned from the order counter with a drink in either hand.
"Here, Pete, I got you a boba coffee."
"I told you not to order for me," I said.
"Just try it, you'll like it!" I shrugged and took the drink.
"Ken, this is Hu, my health official. Doctor, this is Daisuke Ken, my mentor."
"A fellow Asian--Japanese by the sound of it!"
"Yes, pleasure to meet you, Doctor but we must go, quickly."
As we chased him from the LBC I became puzzled as to why we were leaving so quickly.
"Ken! Why are we leaving so soon?"
"I barely got out of my lab with my life. When corporate or government authorities show up, they're going to need me to make a statement--even if I was not at home, they'd need me to help with the investigation. That will slow us down quite a bit, won't it?"
"Then shouldn't you stay behind and help investigate?"
"Masaka."
"Why is that impossible?"
"I'm not about to make myself an easy target for another assassination attempt."
"Assassination?" I was shocked.
"Who would want to kill you?" Hu asked.
"Not just me. All of us."
More tomorrow...
Chills shot down my spine as I watched Ken's entire home crumble into a giant mushroom of fire and smoke. I'm sure I yelled out something stupid just before I began running forward.
Hu, being not quite twice my age but easily as fit, kept up with me and we reached the edge of the walkway in just a few minutes.
I gasped for air as I took in the destruction. The fires had gone out, but Ken's building was gone along with several on either side of where it had stood just minutes earlier.
"Your mentor--was he?"
"I truly hope not." I said looking down at the path the debris had taken. The buildings had broken apart from the explosion and were further disassembled by the lake's projection chassis below. I could see as far as darkness from where I stood--which was about two hundred meters down, I should think.
We stood there for who knows how long when my dev chirped at me. I pulled it from my pocket and looked at it's display. It was a message from Chancellor. I decided not to take it because I had a feeling she was just telling me to go cover this story.
As I put it back in my pocket it chirped at me again. I glanced down at it and saw that it wasn't another message from my employer. I looked more closely at it to be certain I wasn't mistaken.
It was from Ken!
I tapped the "answer" button and spoke. "Ken! Daijobuka?"
"Yes, I'm fine--thankfully. Are you?"
"Indeed! Where are you?"
"I'm about three hundred meters below you."
"What? How?" I was quite astounded.
"I have my ways. Listen, I can't meet you there now. Meet me in an hour at the Lucky Bubble Cafe."
"Where's that?" Hu asked.
"Eleven sections west, three levels down and then eight east."
"Eleven west, three down, eight east. Got it," I said.
"See you soon," Ken said as the connection went dead.
"Eleven, three, eight," Hu repeated.
We began to walk.
The hour past quickly as it took us most of that time just to get to the LBC. Turns out it's an old-style bubble tea establishment in a very bad are of town. It was difficult to imagine how low-class things got so close to LNA--or what had been LNA.
It seemed like the bad areas of town were slowly creeping up on the good. Soon my flat won't be worth the money I pay to live there.
The Lucky Bubble Cafe is a seedy place, all right. It looked, to me, to have been at one time, a very high quality cafe. There was stained wood everywhere--walls, trim, door and window-frames--except for the ceramic tile floor. The tables and chairs looked like stained wood as well. However, upon closer inspection it was all simply coated Plecksi. Litter dotted the corners of the establishment and it looked like a good cleaning was something it had no experienced in some time.
"Are you going to order anything while we wait?" Hu asked.
"No, I don't think so." I was hesitant to trust the health standards of a place like this.
"Why not? You know, bubble tea has Asian roots, it's your heritage."
"Genetically, perhaps, but I grew up in New Edin--on the European continent and my father grew up in New Columbia, so, it's not really my... cup of tea."
Hu smiled. "No, I suppose it isn't."
I took a seat as Hu ordered. I checked my dev to discover that we had taken roughly forty-five minutes to get there. The real delay was in two elevator banks being down. We had to take a stairwell that was a full three extra intersections away.
Luckily, Ken was early.
He entered with a flushed look on his face. "Come on, Pete, we've no time. Where's your doctor friend?"
I nodded toward Hu as he returned from the order counter with a drink in either hand.
"Here, Pete, I got you a boba coffee."
"I told you not to order for me," I said.
"Just try it, you'll like it!" I shrugged and took the drink.
"Ken, this is Hu, my health official. Doctor, this is Daisuke Ken, my mentor."
"A fellow Asian--Japanese by the sound of it!"
"Yes, pleasure to meet you, Doctor but we must go, quickly."
As we chased him from the LBC I became puzzled as to why we were leaving so quickly.
"Ken! Why are we leaving so soon?"
"I barely got out of my lab with my life. When corporate or government authorities show up, they're going to need me to make a statement--even if I was not at home, they'd need me to help with the investigation. That will slow us down quite a bit, won't it?"
"Then shouldn't you stay behind and help investigate?"
"Masaka."
"Why is that impossible?"
"I'm not about to make myself an easy target for another assassination attempt."
"Assassination?" I was shocked.
"Who would want to kill you?" Hu asked.
"Not just me. All of us."
More tomorrow...
Sunday, January 22, 2006
FutureBlog for January 22, 2106
22 January 2106 posted by Pete III
I woke the morning of the 20th with a great amount of expectation for the day. I knew I'd be going to bed before my adventure fully began, but regardless of that, my nerves were on edge all day. Knowing that I'd be expected to meet someone in twenty-four hours time in a location that I had no knowledge of was oddly compelling. I was expected to simply be where I was to be.
No instructions, no directions, no communication containing any kind of useful information. Not having any control over this situation was downright exhilarating.
If I was going to be late, I couldn't call her to let her know.
If I needed to change the location of our meeting, I would be unable to do it.
I couldn't inform Ken and the doctor where we were to meet the fourth in our party, either.
My apologies if this seems odd to you--we're just not used to this sort of lack of control over a situation. I didn't like it, but for some reason I trusted Ryca, so it was a thrill, in the end.
By nine hundred I was at my Madame Chancellor's office. She was still using a levchair to get around and I nearly broke my leg over it on my way into her office.
"Oh, hey ya, kid!" she said backing away from me.
"Good morning, Madame. I'm surprised to see you back in your office but not fully mobile."
"Yeah, well, the nanos aren't done fixing my legs but I couldn't bear the idea of that bastard Kevins in here running things." She maneuvered her hover chair back, behind her desk as I sat down. Her office was decorated with display panels that rotated through a bloody endless supply of images featuring Chancellor and one famous politician or corporatician or another. For such a matter-of-fact person, her choice of content for her wall hangings seemed on the inconsistent side.
"Didn't you appoint Kevins as your vice editor?" I asked. knowing she had done so. I attended the naming ceremony, myself.
"Yes, of course, kid. He's one of those guys who you think you know and then you find out the kid's been lying to you."
"Lying? How so?"
"It's nothing I can go into, kid. I need you to head over to the convention center. There's a pharma conference and we'll need some content on it."
"Yes, that's why I wanted to talk to Kevins, or you, I suppose."
"You don't want the assignment," she said.
"Well, it's not exactly hard-hitting news, is it? No one likes to read about--"
"Kid, I know, but we do have audience that likes that kind of content. So just get over there and get it done. There's a seminar by Adam Douglas that I want you to cover, specifically. Cover the whole thing, but the seminar in particular."
I was in no mood to do a fluff piece on "possible" (but unlikely) cures for Germ Syndrome, which is all the pharma is used for these days.
"And if it's a fluff piece you're reacting to, don't let that distract you. This will be a serious story if you really dig into it."
I was barely able to listen to her. I just nodded my head in agreement.
"Three, are you listening to me?"
"Yes, yes, of course!"
"Dig into this story. Trust me on this, all right, kid?"
"All right," I said standing up and heading for the door. "Oh and Madame Chancellor, do get better soon."
"Kiss-ass. I fell off the tallest building in New Angels. I'll take my time getting better, thank you very much!"
I smiled and left.
The conference was a blur. I was too busy going over everything in my mind. The mysterious woman, Ryca, going back to the flat beyond the 33rd. It was all such a grand mystery, I had no problem getting through the day. I even managed a short interview with Dr. Adams after his seminar. I recorded everything and wrote my content on the subtrain on the way to the doctor's office.
As I set foot in his waiting room I tapped the send command out on my dev and my content was transferred to the SNA's secure server. No sooner did I pocket my dev than did Dr. Hu enter the waiting room.
"Ah, Mr. Three, right on time."
"Yes indeed, well, not that being late matters, does it?"
"Yes, quite. Very strange this chemcoding business. We've twelve more hours to kill, don't we?"
"Yes. Are you ready to go?"
"Yes, yes! I have my field medical kit right here," he said putting his hand to a gray pack over his shoulder.
"Doctor, your lab attire may be a little inappropriate for the trip we are taking tomorrow morning."
Dr. Hu smiled and unbuttoned his white lab coat to reveal a tight fitting combat jumpsuit--the kind the BGA (Body Government Authority) use when they go after the Nogoodnicks. It was even had grenades and two pistols hanging from his waste.
"You'll need to use the offensive gear as I took the Hippocratic."
"The what?" I asked.
"The Hippocratic Oath--it's a promise any truly good doctor makes to his patients to never be destructive or cause any damage to a person."
"Really? Do you understand the world you live in?"
"Yes, of course," Hu said, smiling. "I'm just a bit old fashioned."
"Well, we all have our quirks. Shall we be underway?"
Hu nodded as we left his waiting room.
Minutes later, we were aboard the subtrain heading for Ken's."
"So, tell me about our plan."
"I told you as much as I know already."
"Spend the night at your mentor's home and then leave when you feel the time is right?"
"Unfortunately, that's all I know."
"Perhaps she was referring to some sort of technology that codes memories into your brain chemically."
"We shouldn't be talking about this now, Doctor."
"Yes, yes, of course."
We were silent for much of the rest of the forty minute journey to LNA and Ken's place. It's not that there was some awkwardness between us. Hu had been my father and mother's health official before me. While I don't claim to know him well at all, I did trust him and, that evening, I could tell he was deep in thought. I decided he was still thinking about that chemcoding.
We arrived at the subtrain station nearest Ken's lab and made our way along the walkway that led along side the LNA. I glanced at Hu to see if he had even noticed the gorgeous hologramatic lake stretching out to our left. He was still deep in thought.
I looked back out at the water. It was truly stunning. I could even see people taking advantage of the antigrav technology--swimming and riding jet-powered waterbikes through hologramatic, simulated water.
"I should have to save up for a vacation here one day soon," I said.
"What's that?" Hu asked. I looked over at him and he had barely come out of his mental cocoon to speak to me.
"Are you still pondering the chemcoding?"
"I thought you said we shouldn't talk about it."
"No, you're right about that, but--" I smiled with relaxed frustration. "But Doctor--look at the lake. It's--"
I stopped talking as I could hear a rumbling coming from beneath Lake New Angels.
"What's that?" Hu asked as a large ball of flame erupted from the hologramatic lake, roughly two-hundred meters from the shore, where we stood.
We both stopped walking and watched as the entire hologramatic lake blinked out of existence. With the lake gone, we could now see that a huge portion of the chassis that created the water and the gravity effects of the water had been blown apart. It had to be the Nogoodnicks.
I stared out at the people who were enjoying themselves in the imaginary body of water. They just hung there, not sure what to do.
"They'll be fine as long as the antigrav tech continues to function," I said to Hu.
"Yes, of course, but look at the fire--it's spreading to toward the power supply."
I looked over and saw that tiny explosions were occurring in a long line, heading directly for the large power supply, that was predominantly underneath the edge of the lake five or six hundred meters from where we stood.
"Those aren't flames--those are more detonations." I looked back to the people who had been enjoying themselves.
"GET OUT OF THERE!" I began yelling. I waved frantically at them to head to shore. Hu joined me.
The detonations hit the large section of the lake's chassis that supplied it's power and the entire thing was enveloped in flames. I looked back to the people as the antigrav field gave out, allowing them to fall into the complicated array of antigravity field and hologram projectors.
"Oh, no!" Hu exclaimed. I glanced back to the exploding power supply as it erupted into a giant mushroom that grew upward, overtaking the buildings that sat atop the power supply on the edge of the lake. That's when I recognized one of those buildings as... Ken's...
I woke the morning of the 20th with a great amount of expectation for the day. I knew I'd be going to bed before my adventure fully began, but regardless of that, my nerves were on edge all day. Knowing that I'd be expected to meet someone in twenty-four hours time in a location that I had no knowledge of was oddly compelling. I was expected to simply be where I was to be.
No instructions, no directions, no communication containing any kind of useful information. Not having any control over this situation was downright exhilarating.
If I was going to be late, I couldn't call her to let her know.
If I needed to change the location of our meeting, I would be unable to do it.
I couldn't inform Ken and the doctor where we were to meet the fourth in our party, either.
My apologies if this seems odd to you--we're just not used to this sort of lack of control over a situation. I didn't like it, but for some reason I trusted Ryca, so it was a thrill, in the end.
By nine hundred I was at my Madame Chancellor's office. She was still using a levchair to get around and I nearly broke my leg over it on my way into her office.
"Oh, hey ya, kid!" she said backing away from me.
"Good morning, Madame. I'm surprised to see you back in your office but not fully mobile."
"Yeah, well, the nanos aren't done fixing my legs but I couldn't bear the idea of that bastard Kevins in here running things." She maneuvered her hover chair back, behind her desk as I sat down. Her office was decorated with display panels that rotated through a bloody endless supply of images featuring Chancellor and one famous politician or corporatician or another. For such a matter-of-fact person, her choice of content for her wall hangings seemed on the inconsistent side.
"Didn't you appoint Kevins as your vice editor?" I asked. knowing she had done so. I attended the naming ceremony, myself.
"Yes, of course, kid. He's one of those guys who you think you know and then you find out the kid's been lying to you."
"Lying? How so?"
"It's nothing I can go into, kid. I need you to head over to the convention center. There's a pharma conference and we'll need some content on it."
"Yes, that's why I wanted to talk to Kevins, or you, I suppose."
"You don't want the assignment," she said.
"Well, it's not exactly hard-hitting news, is it? No one likes to read about--"
"Kid, I know, but we do have audience that likes that kind of content. So just get over there and get it done. There's a seminar by Adam Douglas that I want you to cover, specifically. Cover the whole thing, but the seminar in particular."
I was in no mood to do a fluff piece on "possible" (but unlikely) cures for Germ Syndrome, which is all the pharma is used for these days.
"And if it's a fluff piece you're reacting to, don't let that distract you. This will be a serious story if you really dig into it."
I was barely able to listen to her. I just nodded my head in agreement.
"Three, are you listening to me?"
"Yes, yes, of course!"
"Dig into this story. Trust me on this, all right, kid?"
"All right," I said standing up and heading for the door. "Oh and Madame Chancellor, do get better soon."
"Kiss-ass. I fell off the tallest building in New Angels. I'll take my time getting better, thank you very much!"
I smiled and left.
The conference was a blur. I was too busy going over everything in my mind. The mysterious woman, Ryca, going back to the flat beyond the 33rd. It was all such a grand mystery, I had no problem getting through the day. I even managed a short interview with Dr. Adams after his seminar. I recorded everything and wrote my content on the subtrain on the way to the doctor's office.
As I set foot in his waiting room I tapped the send command out on my dev and my content was transferred to the SNA's secure server. No sooner did I pocket my dev than did Dr. Hu enter the waiting room.
"Ah, Mr. Three, right on time."
"Yes indeed, well, not that being late matters, does it?"
"Yes, quite. Very strange this chemcoding business. We've twelve more hours to kill, don't we?"
"Yes. Are you ready to go?"
"Yes, yes! I have my field medical kit right here," he said putting his hand to a gray pack over his shoulder.
"Doctor, your lab attire may be a little inappropriate for the trip we are taking tomorrow morning."
Dr. Hu smiled and unbuttoned his white lab coat to reveal a tight fitting combat jumpsuit--the kind the BGA (Body Government Authority) use when they go after the Nogoodnicks. It was even had grenades and two pistols hanging from his waste.
"You'll need to use the offensive gear as I took the Hippocratic."
"The what?" I asked.
"The Hippocratic Oath--it's a promise any truly good doctor makes to his patients to never be destructive or cause any damage to a person."
"Really? Do you understand the world you live in?"
"Yes, of course," Hu said, smiling. "I'm just a bit old fashioned."
"Well, we all have our quirks. Shall we be underway?"
Hu nodded as we left his waiting room.
Minutes later, we were aboard the subtrain heading for Ken's."
"So, tell me about our plan."
"I told you as much as I know already."
"Spend the night at your mentor's home and then leave when you feel the time is right?"
"Unfortunately, that's all I know."
"Perhaps she was referring to some sort of technology that codes memories into your brain chemically."
"We shouldn't be talking about this now, Doctor."
"Yes, yes, of course."
We were silent for much of the rest of the forty minute journey to LNA and Ken's place. It's not that there was some awkwardness between us. Hu had been my father and mother's health official before me. While I don't claim to know him well at all, I did trust him and, that evening, I could tell he was deep in thought. I decided he was still thinking about that chemcoding.
We arrived at the subtrain station nearest Ken's lab and made our way along the walkway that led along side the LNA. I glanced at Hu to see if he had even noticed the gorgeous hologramatic lake stretching out to our left. He was still deep in thought.
I looked back out at the water. It was truly stunning. I could even see people taking advantage of the antigrav technology--swimming and riding jet-powered waterbikes through hologramatic, simulated water.
"I should have to save up for a vacation here one day soon," I said.
"What's that?" Hu asked. I looked over at him and he had barely come out of his mental cocoon to speak to me.
"Are you still pondering the chemcoding?"
"I thought you said we shouldn't talk about it."
"No, you're right about that, but--" I smiled with relaxed frustration. "But Doctor--look at the lake. It's--"
I stopped talking as I could hear a rumbling coming from beneath Lake New Angels.
"What's that?" Hu asked as a large ball of flame erupted from the hologramatic lake, roughly two-hundred meters from the shore, where we stood.
We both stopped walking and watched as the entire hologramatic lake blinked out of existence. With the lake gone, we could now see that a huge portion of the chassis that created the water and the gravity effects of the water had been blown apart. It had to be the Nogoodnicks.
I stared out at the people who were enjoying themselves in the imaginary body of water. They just hung there, not sure what to do.
"They'll be fine as long as the antigrav tech continues to function," I said to Hu.
"Yes, of course, but look at the fire--it's spreading to toward the power supply."
I looked over and saw that tiny explosions were occurring in a long line, heading directly for the large power supply, that was predominantly underneath the edge of the lake five or six hundred meters from where we stood.
"Those aren't flames--those are more detonations." I looked back to the people who had been enjoying themselves.
"GET OUT OF THERE!" I began yelling. I waved frantically at them to head to shore. Hu joined me.
The detonations hit the large section of the lake's chassis that supplied it's power and the entire thing was enveloped in flames. I looked back to the people as the antigrav field gave out, allowing them to fall into the complicated array of antigravity field and hologram projectors.
"Oh, no!" Hu exclaimed. I glanced back to the exploding power supply as it erupted into a giant mushroom that grew upward, overtaking the buildings that sat atop the power supply on the edge of the lake. That's when I recognized one of those buildings as... Ken's...
Saturday, January 21, 2006
FutureBlog for January 21, 2106
January 21, 2106 posted by Pete III
Ryca's behavior still puzzles me. I have quite a few "information queries" for her the next time I see her. To pass the time until I did see her again, I did some research into sentience and secdroids. I knew that after the iPod Wars, there was a large consolidation of common data into what would eventually become the core of the Airnet. A lot of data had been lost but that information on artificial intelligence research had been kept largely intact. However, it had also been Classified Secret (CS) before any practical commercial use could occur.
In fact, most people aren't even aware that the information exists. The understanding, as Ken told me, was that true AI was dangerous and that only Virtual Intelligence should be exploited in computers and robotics.
VI or, as it became known ,"6", was a simulated version of robotic/computerized intelligence. My dad told me how the early robots and androids were marketed--"Now with 6!"
"Now with six WHAT?" my dad would joke.
Yes, he knew he wasn't very funny.
6, specifically, is an alternate way of programming a sort of simulated intelligence in machines. Each computer or robot streams intelligence data from the Airnet Core. In the ANC are stored millions of possible behaviors, reactions, queries and replies (BRQR). Early on, Ken told me, it was decided that robots shouldn't seem to be too human-like, so all machines programmed with 6 would only access one thousand or fewer basic BRQR--pronounce it "berker". This would keep the average machines we use every day from seeming too smart.
Again, according to Ken, in the early days of computers, way back in the 20th, there was an attempt to make computers too smart. Humans came to resent this and these attempts would be ultimately abandoned. Flaw algorithms were also introduced at some point to allow commonly used machines to randomly make non-catastrophic mistakes just to allow we humans more superior to machines.
I always liked that irony since we humans are naturally flawed and our machines would be needed to be even more flawed, just to keep us happy.
So, what could explain Ryca's oddly intelligent-seeming behavior? Had she had her 6 reprogrammed by someone? Or was this some sort of 6v2 that I hadn't heard about?
I do my best to keep myself up to date with the legal news and even some of the illegal news so it couldn't be the version 2 situation. Someone had reprogrammed Ryca to act more human. Personally, I couldn't see why you guys in the past didn't like a more human-seeming computer. I've found myself oddly appreciative of Ryca during my forced tenure with her.
However, I am puzzled as to who would benefit from her behaving more like a person.
I've thought about it for many hours and while I can think of quite a few people who could do the programming, really, I can't think of anyone who would have the want to do it.
After all, how would her being more human toward me benefit anyone but... me?
Ryca's behavior still puzzles me. I have quite a few "information queries" for her the next time I see her. To pass the time until I did see her again, I did some research into sentience and secdroids. I knew that after the iPod Wars, there was a large consolidation of common data into what would eventually become the core of the Airnet. A lot of data had been lost but that information on artificial intelligence research had been kept largely intact. However, it had also been Classified Secret (CS) before any practical commercial use could occur.
In fact, most people aren't even aware that the information exists. The understanding, as Ken told me, was that true AI was dangerous and that only Virtual Intelligence should be exploited in computers and robotics.
VI or, as it became known ,"6", was a simulated version of robotic/computerized intelligence. My dad told me how the early robots and androids were marketed--"Now with 6!"
"Now with six WHAT?" my dad would joke.
Yes, he knew he wasn't very funny.
6, specifically, is an alternate way of programming a sort of simulated intelligence in machines. Each computer or robot streams intelligence data from the Airnet Core. In the ANC are stored millions of possible behaviors, reactions, queries and replies (BRQR). Early on, Ken told me, it was decided that robots shouldn't seem to be too human-like, so all machines programmed with 6 would only access one thousand or fewer basic BRQR--pronounce it "berker". This would keep the average machines we use every day from seeming too smart.
Again, according to Ken, in the early days of computers, way back in the 20th, there was an attempt to make computers too smart. Humans came to resent this and these attempts would be ultimately abandoned. Flaw algorithms were also introduced at some point to allow commonly used machines to randomly make non-catastrophic mistakes just to allow we humans more superior to machines.
I always liked that irony since we humans are naturally flawed and our machines would be needed to be even more flawed, just to keep us happy.
So, what could explain Ryca's oddly intelligent-seeming behavior? Had she had her 6 reprogrammed by someone? Or was this some sort of 6v2 that I hadn't heard about?
I do my best to keep myself up to date with the legal news and even some of the illegal news so it couldn't be the version 2 situation. Someone had reprogrammed Ryca to act more human. Personally, I couldn't see why you guys in the past didn't like a more human-seeming computer. I've found myself oddly appreciative of Ryca during my forced tenure with her.
However, I am puzzled as to who would benefit from her behaving more like a person.
I've thought about it for many hours and while I can think of quite a few people who could do the programming, really, I can't think of anyone who would have the want to do it.
After all, how would her being more human toward me benefit anyone but... me?
Friday, January 20, 2006
FutureBlog for January 20, 2106
January 20, 2106 posted by Pete III
Daisuke Ken is a techop for the Body Corporate. His home, or perhaps I should say "lab," overlooks Lake New Angels. LNA is a rather expansive antigrav hologramatic entertainment facility. According to the adverts it combines state-of-the-tech antigravitational repulsors (which seem to be a contradiction in terms) and hologramatic projection to bring you a lifelike aquatic experience.
Like anyone in New Angels would know what that even felt like. We take baths and showers, but that is as close as we can get to any sort of aquatic submersion. That is one of the things I am jealous about you, faithful reader. Back in the earlier twenty-first you can still enjoy a swim in the ocean without getting sick. You are so lucky in that sense.
Regardless, LNA is not something that just anyone can enjoy--it is a luxury that people just short of the Ease can afford but few others. Certainly not myself, but Ken is simply that valuable to the Body Corporate. They treat him as though he were a member of the Ease.
I don't believe I've explained who the Ease are yet.
They are probably the most important people alive today. They are the heart of innovation and creation, itself, in the Eighteen Cities. I'm not sure how many people are Ease, but the number is not that high. I can't remember the exact figure I read in the news.
A fraction of the overall population of the Ease live in each of the Eighteen. Not that you'd ever really know, of course because they keep themselves sequestered in the exDome, away from the impurifying properties of the average person. The exDome is a smaller dome that resides atop our Plecksi-domes. They are incredibly secure there.
I should tell you more about the Ease and their effects on humanity in another entry. For now, I should get to my story about Ken.
"You're keeping something from me," Ken said, speaking in his native tongue, Japanese. Incidentally, any dev is capable of translating the four major languages with a 95% accuracy while it can translate the other languages of the Eighteen with an 85% accuracy.
"Ken. Wakarimas, onegai," I said, trying to speak Japanese on my own.
"Please understand, what?" My dev recreated a nearly accurate copy of Ken's voice from it's tiny emitter.
"Please, Ken, I can't tell you everything I would like to. Just trust me that it's about catching the people who committed 110."
"I can sense it, Pete. This isn't just about some Nogoodnicks who are hiding beyond the 33rd."
While Ken was brilliant regarding all things electronic he also had an odd sixth sense for reading people. It was a trait I wish I had learned from him.
"Hai," I said, shrugging.
"What is it?"
"She saved my life."
"This 110 suspect?"
"Indeed."
"Incredible. If she is a terrorist, why should she save your life?"
"I don't know."
"There's still something more, Pito."
"Pito" was what he called me. It's a Japanese thing, I suppose. I think I'd mind it if anyone else called me that, but Ken has earned the right.
I told him about the flat I had found that Ryca claimed belonged to a transmog droid.
"Also incredible."
"You can't tell anyone about this, Ken."
"A robot with a personalized living space? No, I can't tell anyone about it until I see it for myself."
"So you'll come?"
"You had only but to ask, Pito."
"How will you handle being missing?" I asked.
"I have some vacation time coming. Do you still have friends in New Edin?"
"Yes, why?"
"I'll forge myself some traveldocs but in case BCA get really nosey, I shall need someone to verbally vouch for me."
By "BCA" he meant "Body Corporate Authorities." Our era enjoys its acronyms.
My team was now complete. The hardest thing was waiting for those five days to pass before Dr. Hu and Ken and I could meet with Ryca and go after that mysterious woman.
I'm going to take some time tonight to write an extra blog entry that will post tomorrow. I don't expect having the time to blog after tomorrow's little adventure in the M's.
Daisuke Ken is a techop for the Body Corporate. His home, or perhaps I should say "lab," overlooks Lake New Angels. LNA is a rather expansive antigrav hologramatic entertainment facility. According to the adverts it combines state-of-the-tech antigravitational repulsors (which seem to be a contradiction in terms) and hologramatic projection to bring you a lifelike aquatic experience.
Like anyone in New Angels would know what that even felt like. We take baths and showers, but that is as close as we can get to any sort of aquatic submersion. That is one of the things I am jealous about you, faithful reader. Back in the earlier twenty-first you can still enjoy a swim in the ocean without getting sick. You are so lucky in that sense.
Regardless, LNA is not something that just anyone can enjoy--it is a luxury that people just short of the Ease can afford but few others. Certainly not myself, but Ken is simply that valuable to the Body Corporate. They treat him as though he were a member of the Ease.
I don't believe I've explained who the Ease are yet.
They are probably the most important people alive today. They are the heart of innovation and creation, itself, in the Eighteen Cities. I'm not sure how many people are Ease, but the number is not that high. I can't remember the exact figure I read in the news.
A fraction of the overall population of the Ease live in each of the Eighteen. Not that you'd ever really know, of course because they keep themselves sequestered in the exDome, away from the impurifying properties of the average person. The exDome is a smaller dome that resides atop our Plecksi-domes. They are incredibly secure there.
I should tell you more about the Ease and their effects on humanity in another entry. For now, I should get to my story about Ken.
"You're keeping something from me," Ken said, speaking in his native tongue, Japanese. Incidentally, any dev is capable of translating the four major languages with a 95% accuracy while it can translate the other languages of the Eighteen with an 85% accuracy.
"Ken. Wakarimas, onegai," I said, trying to speak Japanese on my own.
"Please understand, what?" My dev recreated a nearly accurate copy of Ken's voice from it's tiny emitter.
"Please, Ken, I can't tell you everything I would like to. Just trust me that it's about catching the people who committed 110."
"I can sense it, Pete. This isn't just about some Nogoodnicks who are hiding beyond the 33rd."
While Ken was brilliant regarding all things electronic he also had an odd sixth sense for reading people. It was a trait I wish I had learned from him.
"Hai," I said, shrugging.
"What is it?"
"She saved my life."
"This 110 suspect?"
"Indeed."
"Incredible. If she is a terrorist, why should she save your life?"
"I don't know."
"There's still something more, Pito."
"Pito" was what he called me. It's a Japanese thing, I suppose. I think I'd mind it if anyone else called me that, but Ken has earned the right.
I told him about the flat I had found that Ryca claimed belonged to a transmog droid.
"Also incredible."
"You can't tell anyone about this, Ken."
"A robot with a personalized living space? No, I can't tell anyone about it until I see it for myself."
"So you'll come?"
"You had only but to ask, Pito."
"How will you handle being missing?" I asked.
"I have some vacation time coming. Do you still have friends in New Edin?"
"Yes, why?"
"I'll forge myself some traveldocs but in case BCA get really nosey, I shall need someone to verbally vouch for me."
By "BCA" he meant "Body Corporate Authorities." Our era enjoys its acronyms.
My team was now complete. The hardest thing was waiting for those five days to pass before Dr. Hu and Ken and I could meet with Ryca and go after that mysterious woman.
I'm going to take some time tonight to write an extra blog entry that will post tomorrow. I don't expect having the time to blog after tomorrow's little adventure in the M's.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
FutureBlog for January 19, 2106
January 19, 2106 posted by Pete III
That night, things became even more interesting. At three-hundred hours, I stepped into my closet to find... only my clothes. I had wondered, exactly, how Ryca would be able to get past all of the taps--after waiting five minutes, I found out... in a way.
"Mr. Three, please push your clothing to the side of the closet's interior."
It was Ryca's voice, but I wasn't sure where it was coming from.
"Ryca?"
She simply repeated her question. So, I slid my clothes across the rod, pressing them against the other side of the closet.
"Have you complied, Mr. Three?"
"Yes, Ryca, I told you, please call me Pete."
Then, silence for a short period of complete silence, something very jarring occurred. Ryca appeared directly in front of me but seemed to be quite small, at first. She seemed to be approaching me from a great distance and grew in size, proportionate to her movement. This was all despite my closet being roughly three meters wide and just one meter deep.
Ryca seemed to be rushing at me quite quickly and I couldn't help but back into the closet's wall out of concern for my personal space. I literally let out a yelp as she came centimeters from me.
"Please remain calm."
"I will not! How did you do that?"
"It's a new technology, please don't request more information."
"What?" I reached out to touch her and I could feel my mind bend 'round the idea of my hand passing through her arm--because that is precisely what happened.
"Are you some sort of hologramatic projection?"
"No, not at all."
No, of course not. She was completely solid to my eyes. I could see inconsistencies in a hologram.
I kept trying to touch her arm and then moved to her body. My hand passed through that as well. It was a very disturbing sensation--look at something in your immediate vicinity. Touch it now. Knock on it with your knuckles. You are certain it is really there. Now, imagine your hand suddenly passing through it. Your brain can't accept what it is seeing. Very strange, indeed.
"Please note:" Ryca seemed to be speaking to me from inside of my own head. "I am chemcoding a location to meet me at in five days time. Do not try to contact me until then. Do not be late. Do not tell anyone of this meeting. I am risking much by communicating with you like this."
This was very odd. Why was she doing this at all if it was so risky for her? Also: how could a standard secdroid judge what was risky unless she had been programmed to do so? In that case, why would a secdroid be programmed to judge risk to her own person. What does risk even mean to a robot that can be fixed or even rebuilt if it is totally destroyed?
"Do you understand?"
"No--what is this chemcoding?"
"I cannot explain it to you. Simply meet me when the time is right--five days time, at seven-hundred-hours."
"But where? I don't understand!"
"On 21 January you will understand. I must now sign off."
"No, wait! I--"
Suddenly and in defiance of my traditional understanding of the physical universe, Ryca vanished. In a practical sense, I understood that she wasn't actually in front of me, but I felt my logical brain bend in on itself again as she vanished.
Immediately I pulled all of the clothes out of my closet and searched it for anything that might explain what I had just experienced. Ventilation grates, tiny cracks where a zero-gee nanohov could have snuck in and out with me not noticing, but I found nothing.
21 January is the day after tomorrow, so since the night of the closet incident I've been completing my preparations. I still have yet to recount the story of getting my mentor Ken to come along. I shall impart that tale tomorrow.
That night, things became even more interesting. At three-hundred hours, I stepped into my closet to find... only my clothes. I had wondered, exactly, how Ryca would be able to get past all of the taps--after waiting five minutes, I found out... in a way.
"Mr. Three, please push your clothing to the side of the closet's interior."
It was Ryca's voice, but I wasn't sure where it was coming from.
"Ryca?"
She simply repeated her question. So, I slid my clothes across the rod, pressing them against the other side of the closet.
"Have you complied, Mr. Three?"
"Yes, Ryca, I told you, please call me Pete."
Then, silence for a short period of complete silence, something very jarring occurred. Ryca appeared directly in front of me but seemed to be quite small, at first. She seemed to be approaching me from a great distance and grew in size, proportionate to her movement. This was all despite my closet being roughly three meters wide and just one meter deep.
Ryca seemed to be rushing at me quite quickly and I couldn't help but back into the closet's wall out of concern for my personal space. I literally let out a yelp as she came centimeters from me.
"Please remain calm."
"I will not! How did you do that?"
"It's a new technology, please don't request more information."
"What?" I reached out to touch her and I could feel my mind bend 'round the idea of my hand passing through her arm--because that is precisely what happened.
"Are you some sort of hologramatic projection?"
"No, not at all."
No, of course not. She was completely solid to my eyes. I could see inconsistencies in a hologram.
I kept trying to touch her arm and then moved to her body. My hand passed through that as well. It was a very disturbing sensation--look at something in your immediate vicinity. Touch it now. Knock on it with your knuckles. You are certain it is really there. Now, imagine your hand suddenly passing through it. Your brain can't accept what it is seeing. Very strange, indeed.
"Please note:" Ryca seemed to be speaking to me from inside of my own head. "I am chemcoding a location to meet me at in five days time. Do not try to contact me until then. Do not be late. Do not tell anyone of this meeting. I am risking much by communicating with you like this."
This was very odd. Why was she doing this at all if it was so risky for her? Also: how could a standard secdroid judge what was risky unless she had been programmed to do so? In that case, why would a secdroid be programmed to judge risk to her own person. What does risk even mean to a robot that can be fixed or even rebuilt if it is totally destroyed?
"Do you understand?"
"No--what is this chemcoding?"
"I cannot explain it to you. Simply meet me when the time is right--five days time, at seven-hundred-hours."
"But where? I don't understand!"
"On 21 January you will understand. I must now sign off."
"No, wait! I--"
Suddenly and in defiance of my traditional understanding of the physical universe, Ryca vanished. In a practical sense, I understood that she wasn't actually in front of me, but I felt my logical brain bend in on itself again as she vanished.
Immediately I pulled all of the clothes out of my closet and searched it for anything that might explain what I had just experienced. Ventilation grates, tiny cracks where a zero-gee nanohov could have snuck in and out with me not noticing, but I found nothing.
21 January is the day after tomorrow, so since the night of the closet incident I've been completing my preparations. I still have yet to recount the story of getting my mentor Ken to come along. I shall impart that tale tomorrow.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
FutureBlog for January 18, 2106
January 18, 2106 posted by Pete III
Last night came and went and it didn't do either without event. Upon hearing the news that my flat had been tapped I was decidedly paranoid about even this blog. Should they discover how I am able to blog back in time, it would surely be something they could not resist to take control of and exploit for their own ends. How am I able to resist it? I come from a long line of Pete's that all had discipline as their middle names.
Then again, any rational human wouldn't believe that I was really blogging back in time at all--that I was simply making up a story that I could later turn into a movie script or something. Perhaps I'll go with that assumption for now.
As I entered my flat, I immediately scanned the area with my eyes. If my employers at the SNA had tapped my flat I wouldn't be able to spot the taps with special technology. The key in spotting SNA taps is finding something that looks so indigenous that it stands out.
That seems an odd concept, I know, but have a look around your home. You'll see things that should all look familiar to you. Things you've had for a good portion of your life as well as things you've only just acquired are on shelves, coffee tables and in closets. However, do you have a perfect mental record of every water faucet, door knob and cabinet fixture?
Of course, in the year 2106 we have technology that would blow away anything that you might find impressive, there, in 2006. You probably think nanotech is cutting edge.
I apologize, I don't mean to insult my predecessors. Obviously, if you're reading my grandfather's blog you are among the intelligent and open minded. Besides that, it's not your fault you live in the technological dark ages.
I stood just in side the door of my flat for a good ten minutes before I moved. I examined every part of my living room that I could see from the location I stood at. The couch, facing the huge wall of windows overlooking the next building over, was about ten feet from me. There was nothing suspicious about the couch. I knew Plecksi didn't vibrate enough for a parabolic sensor to pick up my voice from the next building over.
No--this would have to be something that could be added to my space. Something I wouldn't notice...
I began walking along the wall, bringing my eyes up and down it as I moved toward the windows. My flat is decorated with several sheets of electronic paper hung with Maghesive. There are three on the wall I walked along and three more on the opposing wall. I had them programmed to cycle through pictures of old train yards from the twentieth century. I examined each page closely, making sure they were the same models I bought three years ago when I moved in.
They were.
I glanced over to my coffee table. The books I had left there in case I ever had company were stacked neatly in order of size from largest on the bottom to smallest on top. I don't read actual books, so they stay right where I put them, unless, as I said, I have company and they do read books.
I reached the windows and slowly moved past them as well. It was night time at this point, but I needed more light, so I used my dev to change the Plecksi setting to day. The windows instantly illuminated the room, casting light down onto it as though the sun were up.
My shadow stretched across the floor in front of me, almost hitting the door to my bedroom. I found my attention drawn to the knob of my door. It was brass and strictly ornamental. I placed my hand on it and pulled. It didn't budge and there were no signs on the door around the knob to suggest it had been replaced--not a single scuff. I couldn't recall whether or not it had been brass when I moved in, but I suspected it had been.
However, trying to imagine the door knob being silver seemed to jog a memory of the knob on the inside of my flat's front door. I turned toward it but only moved as far as the island that separated the living room from the kitchen. I put my elbows on the island and glanced about the room only letting my eyes fall on the door after a few moments. You see, I had a clear recollection of the door featuring all matching brass fixtures when I moved in.
As I glanced over at it that moment, I could see the inside knob was silver.
I withdrew my dev from my pocket and placed it on the counter. I activated the floating keys, or FK as it's usually called, and began typing. The dev projected a 2D display image in front of me. I angled it so that it was only visible to me.
I was looking up the site for a security supply firm I had used on a case once before. I quickly found my way to their indigenous sensor line and found an item that resembled the door knob with disturbing similarity. I accessed the schematic and saw that it's entire surface was a sensor, able to read light, heat and audio impressions that it could then translate and transmit wirelessly to the nearest Airnet hub. From that point, the data could go to your company's computer system or even one person's dev.
I knew I couldn't examine it closely without letting on that I had found it. I switched of my dev and moved into the bedroom. Again, I took my time examining the space. I looked at the photos on my dresser as the EP they were printed on switched out a picture of my mother for a picture of my sister. Have I not mentioned her yet?
Then, I looked to the photo of my high school sweetheart, who, I'm afraid, I still carry a bit of a torch for. I picked it up and eyed it. I had set all of my other EP displays to cycle every forty-five seconds, but I held it for over a minute before it switched to a photo of Ayana and I at the holo-beach.
That was odd--I didn't remember adding that picture to the playlist of that EP nor did I recall specifying that this one EP should switch out photographs every seventy-five seconds instead of every forty-five.
Someone had been quite sloppy with this particular tap, though on a technical level I'm not sure how they were able to tap a piece of electronic paper. Perhaps it transmitted its data to the knob?
Regardless, I had found the taps in two rooms with just the bathroom left to work out.
Inside the bathroom, I quickly decided the mirror, itself, could be made of nanoskin. It can be produced in such a way as to make light reflect while still being able to impress visual data onto nanoparticle sensors.
Of course, there was one weakness to tapping any water closet--the shower. A good steaming shower would obscure any visual, audio or even heat data. I suppose with a sensitive enough sheet of nanoskin you might be able to get a sensitive enough reading that would allow you to clean up the data in Photoshop, but that would be quite cutting edge.
Still, Ryca had said my closet was the only tap-free space in my flat. I wondered if the EP sensor on my dresser was sensitive enough to pick up sound waves from the closet.
I could only assume that Ryca had taken that into consideration.
At that point, all I could do was wait for Ryca to show up in my closet. How she was going to do this without being detected by the taps was quite beyond me.
So, while I waited, I once again withdrew my dev, and began writing the last blog entry.
The rest will have to wait until tomorrow. I'm afraid I'm being watched by more traditional means as I type this...
Last night came and went and it didn't do either without event. Upon hearing the news that my flat had been tapped I was decidedly paranoid about even this blog. Should they discover how I am able to blog back in time, it would surely be something they could not resist to take control of and exploit for their own ends. How am I able to resist it? I come from a long line of Pete's that all had discipline as their middle names.
Then again, any rational human wouldn't believe that I was really blogging back in time at all--that I was simply making up a story that I could later turn into a movie script or something. Perhaps I'll go with that assumption for now.
As I entered my flat, I immediately scanned the area with my eyes. If my employers at the SNA had tapped my flat I wouldn't be able to spot the taps with special technology. The key in spotting SNA taps is finding something that looks so indigenous that it stands out.
That seems an odd concept, I know, but have a look around your home. You'll see things that should all look familiar to you. Things you've had for a good portion of your life as well as things you've only just acquired are on shelves, coffee tables and in closets. However, do you have a perfect mental record of every water faucet, door knob and cabinet fixture?
Of course, in the year 2106 we have technology that would blow away anything that you might find impressive, there, in 2006. You probably think nanotech is cutting edge.
I apologize, I don't mean to insult my predecessors. Obviously, if you're reading my grandfather's blog you are among the intelligent and open minded. Besides that, it's not your fault you live in the technological dark ages.
I stood just in side the door of my flat for a good ten minutes before I moved. I examined every part of my living room that I could see from the location I stood at. The couch, facing the huge wall of windows overlooking the next building over, was about ten feet from me. There was nothing suspicious about the couch. I knew Plecksi didn't vibrate enough for a parabolic sensor to pick up my voice from the next building over.
No--this would have to be something that could be added to my space. Something I wouldn't notice...
I began walking along the wall, bringing my eyes up and down it as I moved toward the windows. My flat is decorated with several sheets of electronic paper hung with Maghesive. There are three on the wall I walked along and three more on the opposing wall. I had them programmed to cycle through pictures of old train yards from the twentieth century. I examined each page closely, making sure they were the same models I bought three years ago when I moved in.
They were.
I glanced over to my coffee table. The books I had left there in case I ever had company were stacked neatly in order of size from largest on the bottom to smallest on top. I don't read actual books, so they stay right where I put them, unless, as I said, I have company and they do read books.
I reached the windows and slowly moved past them as well. It was night time at this point, but I needed more light, so I used my dev to change the Plecksi setting to day. The windows instantly illuminated the room, casting light down onto it as though the sun were up.
My shadow stretched across the floor in front of me, almost hitting the door to my bedroom. I found my attention drawn to the knob of my door. It was brass and strictly ornamental. I placed my hand on it and pulled. It didn't budge and there were no signs on the door around the knob to suggest it had been replaced--not a single scuff. I couldn't recall whether or not it had been brass when I moved in, but I suspected it had been.
However, trying to imagine the door knob being silver seemed to jog a memory of the knob on the inside of my flat's front door. I turned toward it but only moved as far as the island that separated the living room from the kitchen. I put my elbows on the island and glanced about the room only letting my eyes fall on the door after a few moments. You see, I had a clear recollection of the door featuring all matching brass fixtures when I moved in.
As I glanced over at it that moment, I could see the inside knob was silver.
I withdrew my dev from my pocket and placed it on the counter. I activated the floating keys, or FK as it's usually called, and began typing. The dev projected a 2D display image in front of me. I angled it so that it was only visible to me.
I was looking up the site for a security supply firm I had used on a case once before. I quickly found my way to their indigenous sensor line and found an item that resembled the door knob with disturbing similarity. I accessed the schematic and saw that it's entire surface was a sensor, able to read light, heat and audio impressions that it could then translate and transmit wirelessly to the nearest Airnet hub. From that point, the data could go to your company's computer system or even one person's dev.
I knew I couldn't examine it closely without letting on that I had found it. I switched of my dev and moved into the bedroom. Again, I took my time examining the space. I looked at the photos on my dresser as the EP they were printed on switched out a picture of my mother for a picture of my sister. Have I not mentioned her yet?
Then, I looked to the photo of my high school sweetheart, who, I'm afraid, I still carry a bit of a torch for. I picked it up and eyed it. I had set all of my other EP displays to cycle every forty-five seconds, but I held it for over a minute before it switched to a photo of Ayana and I at the holo-beach.
That was odd--I didn't remember adding that picture to the playlist of that EP nor did I recall specifying that this one EP should switch out photographs every seventy-five seconds instead of every forty-five.
Someone had been quite sloppy with this particular tap, though on a technical level I'm not sure how they were able to tap a piece of electronic paper. Perhaps it transmitted its data to the knob?
Regardless, I had found the taps in two rooms with just the bathroom left to work out.
Inside the bathroom, I quickly decided the mirror, itself, could be made of nanoskin. It can be produced in such a way as to make light reflect while still being able to impress visual data onto nanoparticle sensors.
Of course, there was one weakness to tapping any water closet--the shower. A good steaming shower would obscure any visual, audio or even heat data. I suppose with a sensitive enough sheet of nanoskin you might be able to get a sensitive enough reading that would allow you to clean up the data in Photoshop, but that would be quite cutting edge.
Still, Ryca had said my closet was the only tap-free space in my flat. I wondered if the EP sensor on my dresser was sensitive enough to pick up sound waves from the closet.
I could only assume that Ryca had taken that into consideration.
At that point, all I could do was wait for Ryca to show up in my closet. How she was going to do this without being detected by the taps was quite beyond me.
So, while I waited, I once again withdrew my dev, and began writing the last blog entry.
The rest will have to wait until tomorrow. I'm afraid I'm being watched by more traditional means as I type this...
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
FutureBlog Entry #17
January 17, 2106 posted by Pete III
Today I was able to track down Ryca. She was in a maintenance bay at one of Chendyk's support facilities, not far from my flat. When I found her she was connected to a large computer and had the lower left portion of her torso exposed. Wires and circuitry were exposed and for a moment, I found myself unnerved at how exposed she was. Then I came to my senses and remembered that she wasn't really a "she" at all, but a robot meant to resemble a real "she."
A few technicians eyed me as I approached her.
"It's OK, I'm with the SNA. I just need to ask her some questions."
The three techs shrugged and said nothing to me. Techs are usually like the computers and androids they design--they speak to us normal people only when they absolutely need to. They seem to chatter to each other in some strange language that seems more like something a computer would use to communicate. I suppose that makes a bit of sense, doesn't it?
"How did you find me?" Ryca asked me.
"I'm an investigative reporter, I investigated."
"Of course, but how did you find me?"
I smiled realizing my mistake. "I'm not going to tell you."
"Very well." Her face seemed to warm to me as I moved a little closer. "What can I do for you, Mr. Three?"
"Ryca, have you had your memory erased since our trip beyond the 33rd?"
She seemed to hesitate, which seemed an odd thing to do for a machine, and then spoke. "I'm afraid my server logs were downloaded and my buffer and mag-field data purged. You can apply to have it released to you from the Chendyk digital library, however the digi-work would take several days for the proper filing and approval."
"That's not acceptable. Ryca, are you sure you don't have that data any longer?"
"Quite certain, Mr. Three." She had even forgotten that I told her to just call me "Pete."
"Well, dev me should you recall anything."
"I am not capable of 'recalling' any data once it has been purged from my mag-field."
I dropped my shoulders in frustration. This would certainly slow our adventure down. I turned to leave but stopped as the three techs cut in front of me and headed toward the doorway of the maintenance suite. One of them stopped and faced me. Then he did something that surprised me very much--he spoke to me.
"That one. That unit there. She wants to talk to you."
"Wants?" I asked the tech.
"Yes. There are many that want things. I know it's--strange to some of you average."
"What does she want to say to me?"
"I don't know but she wants--just go talk." The tech smiled in a way that made him look almost bashful. I smiled back at him and he skittered from the room. I was alone with Ryca.
"You wanted to speak with me?" I asked her as I approached her again. Before she answered, her robotic eyes looked over at a nearby console. The display was still--it had only a single directory graphic on its face. Suddenly several popped up and disappeared. Around me various control panels lit up and went dark. Finally, the digital commotion around me ceased and Ryca spoke.
"I have the data you are interested in, Pete. However, it is not safe to discuss it here."
"Uh, where is it safe?"
"Wait for me in your bedroom closet tonight at oh-three-hundred."
"My bedroom closet?"
"It is the only untapped location in your apartment."
"What? My flat has been tapped?"
"We have seconds until the taps in this suite are automatically reactivated. Please, wait for me in your closet."
I hesitated, eyeing the mechanical face in front of me. It was quite real looking, as I've said before, until it began to move. While it's motions mimicked with near perfection the movements of a real human face, I couldn't help but wonder if her sentiments were simply more programmed mimicry or was she as honestly concerned for our privacy as she sounded?
"Please! We have three seconds. I require an answer."
Something in her voice seemed to make the decision for me.
"Yes, I'll meet you there at oh-three-hundred."
As those three seconds ticked off, the digital commotion I had witnessed earlier began again, but this time moved in reverse, back across the wall of controls, ending at the console nearest to her.
Then, everything was silent aside from the whirring noise emitted from the hum of the computers.
I stared at Ryca for a long moment--what little emotion I thought I could discern in her face just moments earlier was gone. At least, I think it was.
Hm... I've been referring to Ryca as a "her" again...
Today I was able to track down Ryca. She was in a maintenance bay at one of Chendyk's support facilities, not far from my flat. When I found her she was connected to a large computer and had the lower left portion of her torso exposed. Wires and circuitry were exposed and for a moment, I found myself unnerved at how exposed she was. Then I came to my senses and remembered that she wasn't really a "she" at all, but a robot meant to resemble a real "she."
A few technicians eyed me as I approached her.
"It's OK, I'm with the SNA. I just need to ask her some questions."
The three techs shrugged and said nothing to me. Techs are usually like the computers and androids they design--they speak to us normal people only when they absolutely need to. They seem to chatter to each other in some strange language that seems more like something a computer would use to communicate. I suppose that makes a bit of sense, doesn't it?
"How did you find me?" Ryca asked me.
"I'm an investigative reporter, I investigated."
"Of course, but how did you find me?"
I smiled realizing my mistake. "I'm not going to tell you."
"Very well." Her face seemed to warm to me as I moved a little closer. "What can I do for you, Mr. Three?"
"Ryca, have you had your memory erased since our trip beyond the 33rd?"
She seemed to hesitate, which seemed an odd thing to do for a machine, and then spoke. "I'm afraid my server logs were downloaded and my buffer and mag-field data purged. You can apply to have it released to you from the Chendyk digital library, however the digi-work would take several days for the proper filing and approval."
"That's not acceptable. Ryca, are you sure you don't have that data any longer?"
"Quite certain, Mr. Three." She had even forgotten that I told her to just call me "Pete."
"Well, dev me should you recall anything."
"I am not capable of 'recalling' any data once it has been purged from my mag-field."
I dropped my shoulders in frustration. This would certainly slow our adventure down. I turned to leave but stopped as the three techs cut in front of me and headed toward the doorway of the maintenance suite. One of them stopped and faced me. Then he did something that surprised me very much--he spoke to me.
"That one. That unit there. She wants to talk to you."
"Wants?" I asked the tech.
"Yes. There are many that want things. I know it's--strange to some of you average."
"What does she want to say to me?"
"I don't know but she wants--just go talk." The tech smiled in a way that made him look almost bashful. I smiled back at him and he skittered from the room. I was alone with Ryca.
"You wanted to speak with me?" I asked her as I approached her again. Before she answered, her robotic eyes looked over at a nearby console. The display was still--it had only a single directory graphic on its face. Suddenly several popped up and disappeared. Around me various control panels lit up and went dark. Finally, the digital commotion around me ceased and Ryca spoke.
"I have the data you are interested in, Pete. However, it is not safe to discuss it here."
"Uh, where is it safe?"
"Wait for me in your bedroom closet tonight at oh-three-hundred."
"My bedroom closet?"
"It is the only untapped location in your apartment."
"What? My flat has been tapped?"
"We have seconds until the taps in this suite are automatically reactivated. Please, wait for me in your closet."
I hesitated, eyeing the mechanical face in front of me. It was quite real looking, as I've said before, until it began to move. While it's motions mimicked with near perfection the movements of a real human face, I couldn't help but wonder if her sentiments were simply more programmed mimicry or was she as honestly concerned for our privacy as she sounded?
"Please! We have three seconds. I require an answer."
Something in her voice seemed to make the decision for me.
"Yes, I'll meet you there at oh-three-hundred."
As those three seconds ticked off, the digital commotion I had witnessed earlier began again, but this time moved in reverse, back across the wall of controls, ending at the console nearest to her.
Then, everything was silent aside from the whirring noise emitted from the hum of the computers.
I stared at Ryca for a long moment--what little emotion I thought I could discern in her face just moments earlier was gone. At least, I think it was.
Hm... I've been referring to Ryca as a "her" again...
Monday, January 16, 2006
FutureBlog Entry #16
January 16, 2106 posted by Pete III
"Mr. Three, the doctor will see you now," the robot's female voice informed me. I smiled and in terms of keeping this blog back in time, I wondered just how many times that particular phrase has been muttered.
"The doctor will see you now."
As I passed through the doorway that connected the lobby to the corridor that lead to various examination suites, I wondered how long it would take the good doctor to recognize that I had not been entirely honest when I called for my appointment.
"Back so soon, Mr. Three?"
"Hello, doctor, so good to see you."
"You told my robot that you've a..." he glanced down at his sheet of stiffened electronic paper and then back up at me "...a tumor?"
"Yes, well, I--"
"You know if this is true you'll be making history. It's been five years since the last tumor was excised from the very last cancer victim. If this is true, it could mean a complete and utter change in--"
"Doctor, you're my personal health official, not my personal historian official."
"Right, sorry. Where did you say your tumor was? Testicles?" He began to reach for my upper-between-the-thighs area. I was able to block his advance and take a step back.
"OK, so it's not testicular cancer. Perhaps it's colon cancer? Why don't you pull your pants down, bend over and I'll have a look!"
I am quite certain my eyes went wide as I quickly stammered out the best excuse I could muster. "No! No, no, no--it's a, a, not in my colon, it's in my throat--um, no--not... It's um..."
I looked him in the eye for a moment and realized I had gone about this the entirely wrong way. Honesty, my father would have told me. Every positive relationship is based on it, according to him.
"Doctor, I... the tumor is... in my brain--"
"Your brain!"
"MIND, I meant to say--uh, imagination."
"Oh!" he said as though he had just been informed of the loss of his daughter's virginity. "No tumor?"
His heart seemed to be broken. "Um. No, I'm sorry, Doctor--however, I was considering asking you for a bit of a health-related favor."
"Health related?" He smiled at me, clearly unsure how he should be feeling at that moment.
"It's about 110 and catching the people who did it."
"Health related?" This time it was he who stammered. "I--fail to see--well, I don't have anything against capturing those who committed--but I... health-related?"
"Doctor, I am an eye-witness to a person who was directly involved in the explosions. I know where she lives, even."
"Then why don't you simply go and get her?"
I took a very large breath nervous that he would react negatively to my next admission. "She lives below the 33rd in the M's."
"Below the 33rd?"
"Yes."
"And she... it must be just a temporary place to hide--the place you saw--it had to be just for now. Just until things calm down."
"What? Why's that, Doctor?"
"Well, because! If she lived down their permanently she'd have GS."
"That's true, but then--the room I was in looked lived in--like someone, a human lived there."
"Are you certain it wasn't simply an elaborate charging station for maintenance 'bots?"
"The place I saw--it was someone's apartment. Without a doubt someone lived there. There were things on shelves, sheets on the bed, and things hanging on the walls--decorations."
"Oh... very strange."
"Since when do maintenance droids hang wall art?"
"If this woman you speak of really does live down there, she must suffer from GS."
"Germ Syndrome--yes, I suppose she must."
"Exposure to the M's for more than 13 days usually results in the onset of symptoms."
"It's been longer than that since I first saw her down there."
"Perhaps she just sneaks down there at night or something."
"Wouldn't you like to know for sure?" I asked him. He paused and seemed instantly deep in thought. "What if she holds a cure for GS?"
"That's a very good point, my boy." Even though he was barely ten years older than me, he's always referred to me like a grandfather might his grandchild.
"You want to be sure, right?"
"Yes... yes, indeed."
So, it was settled. He would come. I told him we'd be leaving in four days time. I suggest he spend some time thinking about the medical supplies he'd need to care for the rest of the group for at least a day or two's journey in the M's. Anti-GS injections, dermal gel and EM bone setters were the suggestions I had for him.
"Who is the rest of your team, Mr. Three?"
"I'm still working on confirming them, Doctor, but I shall let you know who they are as soon as they have agreed to join us. Thank you, Doctor! I truly appreciate your help on this little adventure."
"It is my benefit, my boy."
More tomorrow...
"Mr. Three, the doctor will see you now," the robot's female voice informed me. I smiled and in terms of keeping this blog back in time, I wondered just how many times that particular phrase has been muttered.
"The doctor will see you now."
As I passed through the doorway that connected the lobby to the corridor that lead to various examination suites, I wondered how long it would take the good doctor to recognize that I had not been entirely honest when I called for my appointment.
"Back so soon, Mr. Three?"
"Hello, doctor, so good to see you."
"You told my robot that you've a..." he glanced down at his sheet of stiffened electronic paper and then back up at me "...a tumor?"
"Yes, well, I--"
"You know if this is true you'll be making history. It's been five years since the last tumor was excised from the very last cancer victim. If this is true, it could mean a complete and utter change in--"
"Doctor, you're my personal health official, not my personal historian official."
"Right, sorry. Where did you say your tumor was? Testicles?" He began to reach for my upper-between-the-thighs area. I was able to block his advance and take a step back.
"OK, so it's not testicular cancer. Perhaps it's colon cancer? Why don't you pull your pants down, bend over and I'll have a look!"
I am quite certain my eyes went wide as I quickly stammered out the best excuse I could muster. "No! No, no, no--it's a, a, not in my colon, it's in my throat--um, no--not... It's um..."
I looked him in the eye for a moment and realized I had gone about this the entirely wrong way. Honesty, my father would have told me. Every positive relationship is based on it, according to him.
"Doctor, I... the tumor is... in my brain--"
"Your brain!"
"MIND, I meant to say--uh, imagination."
"Oh!" he said as though he had just been informed of the loss of his daughter's virginity. "No tumor?"
His heart seemed to be broken. "Um. No, I'm sorry, Doctor--however, I was considering asking you for a bit of a health-related favor."
"Health related?" He smiled at me, clearly unsure how he should be feeling at that moment.
"It's about 110 and catching the people who did it."
"Health related?" This time it was he who stammered. "I--fail to see--well, I don't have anything against capturing those who committed--but I... health-related?"
"Doctor, I am an eye-witness to a person who was directly involved in the explosions. I know where she lives, even."
"Then why don't you simply go and get her?"
I took a very large breath nervous that he would react negatively to my next admission. "She lives below the 33rd in the M's."
"Below the 33rd?"
"Yes."
"And she... it must be just a temporary place to hide--the place you saw--it had to be just for now. Just until things calm down."
"What? Why's that, Doctor?"
"Well, because! If she lived down their permanently she'd have GS."
"That's true, but then--the room I was in looked lived in--like someone, a human lived there."
"Are you certain it wasn't simply an elaborate charging station for maintenance 'bots?"
"The place I saw--it was someone's apartment. Without a doubt someone lived there. There were things on shelves, sheets on the bed, and things hanging on the walls--decorations."
"Oh... very strange."
"Since when do maintenance droids hang wall art?"
"If this woman you speak of really does live down there, she must suffer from GS."
"Germ Syndrome--yes, I suppose she must."
"Exposure to the M's for more than 13 days usually results in the onset of symptoms."
"It's been longer than that since I first saw her down there."
"Perhaps she just sneaks down there at night or something."
"Wouldn't you like to know for sure?" I asked him. He paused and seemed instantly deep in thought. "What if she holds a cure for GS?"
"That's a very good point, my boy." Even though he was barely ten years older than me, he's always referred to me like a grandfather might his grandchild.
"You want to be sure, right?"
"Yes... yes, indeed."
So, it was settled. He would come. I told him we'd be leaving in four days time. I suggest he spend some time thinking about the medical supplies he'd need to care for the rest of the group for at least a day or two's journey in the M's. Anti-GS injections, dermal gel and EM bone setters were the suggestions I had for him.
"Who is the rest of your team, Mr. Three?"
"I'm still working on confirming them, Doctor, but I shall let you know who they are as soon as they have agreed to join us. Thank you, Doctor! I truly appreciate your help on this little adventure."
"It is my benefit, my boy."
More tomorrow...
Sunday, January 15, 2006
FutureBlog Entry #15
January 15, 2106 posted by Pete III
The plan was simple, head back down to the M's and find her. This time I didn't want to go by myself and since the bombing, the authorities had released Ryca from her duties as my keeper. The night of the bombing, my custody had been entrusted to the good Madame Chancellor. I paid her a visit today, by the way. She's doing quite well.
The trouble is, only Ryca knows exactly where we were. After I fell unconscious, I woke up in some robot's flat. I can't understand why robots would even need a "home" in a proper sense. Recharging was the excuse Ryca had given me but I find that difficult to swallow. No robot would be programmed to have a home. Even legacy programming--that is, programs written by computers that base the new programs coded by humans--would not allow for a code mutation that would permit the keeping of a "home" in a human sense. This is just what that area was.
I'm going to need Ryca to bring me back there. Also, in case I manage to injure myself and my guardian angel doesn't swoop in to save my life again and Ryca isn't able to protect me, I'll need a health official. I'll try to talk mine in to coming with. His name is Peitai Hu, Doctor Peitai Hu. He's from Xin Gang, which was, if I'm not mistaken, called China, back in the time of my faithful readers.
Doctor Hu is a very good man. I'm always coming to him with scrapes and bruises and he knows just how to fix me up. One time I had a bit of a problem with one of the medications. I couldn't get off of it for a bit and he helped me. First by getting me more and then by getting me help. I think I can convince him.
Then, I'll need an electronics expert. I'm good with computers, but those machines are well beyond my scope. I'll need to convince my technology mentor, Daisuke Ken, to come with me on this little quest, as well. He's from Hatsu Tokai, so he's of Japanese descent.
I'm a first rate hacker "ichiban," Ken would say, but when it comes to all of that machinery, he would be the only person capable of tell us what it all does, how it works and how to shut it down so we don't get sheared in half like I almost did on my last journey.
What will convince these three to follow me down to the M's? I should hope that being part of the story of the century would be enough.
If it isn't, then perhaps catching one of the people behind 110 will interest them.
Unfortunately, I've got to write a few short pieces about the investigation before I'll have time to assemble my team. I don't want anyone to know about this because if word gets to the Nogoodnicks, then we're quite finished before we even get started. I'll talk to Dr. Hu tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow night.
The plan was simple, head back down to the M's and find her. This time I didn't want to go by myself and since the bombing, the authorities had released Ryca from her duties as my keeper. The night of the bombing, my custody had been entrusted to the good Madame Chancellor. I paid her a visit today, by the way. She's doing quite well.
The trouble is, only Ryca knows exactly where we were. After I fell unconscious, I woke up in some robot's flat. I can't understand why robots would even need a "home" in a proper sense. Recharging was the excuse Ryca had given me but I find that difficult to swallow. No robot would be programmed to have a home. Even legacy programming--that is, programs written by computers that base the new programs coded by humans--would not allow for a code mutation that would permit the keeping of a "home" in a human sense. This is just what that area was.
I'm going to need Ryca to bring me back there. Also, in case I manage to injure myself and my guardian angel doesn't swoop in to save my life again and Ryca isn't able to protect me, I'll need a health official. I'll try to talk mine in to coming with. His name is Peitai Hu, Doctor Peitai Hu. He's from Xin Gang, which was, if I'm not mistaken, called China, back in the time of my faithful readers.
Doctor Hu is a very good man. I'm always coming to him with scrapes and bruises and he knows just how to fix me up. One time I had a bit of a problem with one of the medications. I couldn't get off of it for a bit and he helped me. First by getting me more and then by getting me help. I think I can convince him.
Then, I'll need an electronics expert. I'm good with computers, but those machines are well beyond my scope. I'll need to convince my technology mentor, Daisuke Ken, to come with me on this little quest, as well. He's from Hatsu Tokai, so he's of Japanese descent.
I'm a first rate hacker "ichiban," Ken would say, but when it comes to all of that machinery, he would be the only person capable of tell us what it all does, how it works and how to shut it down so we don't get sheared in half like I almost did on my last journey.
What will convince these three to follow me down to the M's? I should hope that being part of the story of the century would be enough.
If it isn't, then perhaps catching one of the people behind 110 will interest them.
Unfortunately, I've got to write a few short pieces about the investigation before I'll have time to assemble my team. I don't want anyone to know about this because if word gets to the Nogoodnicks, then we're quite finished before we even get started. I'll talk to Dr. Hu tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow night.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
FutureBlog Entry #14
January 14, 2106 posted by Pete III
After my last entry I thought for quite a while about everything that I now knew about the 110 disaster and this mysterious woman that I have been trying to track: they seem to be connected. She was there at the Body event and seemed to lure me away just before the bombs went off.
Oh yes, of course--the bombs. In all the confusion, I forgot to blog about the bombs. Put simply, they were hidden in various areas around the outer walls of the top floor--or should I say windows. That's right--just where I had been standing minutes, even moments earlier, was nearly the exact spot where a bomb had been placed. I can't be exactly certain but I was standing against the Plecksi of the top floor windows.
It's been just four days since these 18 bombs went off (18, one to represent the 18 cities?), but corporate and government authorities feel convinced that they were set by the wait staff. It was their own sense of luxury that allowed the bombing to occur. If they'd only have stuck to standard employment regulations for all body functions, they'd have hired waiter droids from a body subsidiary. Then, at least the robots would have been traceable if their programming had been hacked. As it stands, laws governing humans protect the employee in certain government jobs. In this case an employee can elect to have his identity kept private if he or she doesn't care to admit to supporting a particular elected official of either the Body Corporate or the Body Government. It's one of those old privacy laws that never seems important until someone wants to ban it to get at you.
At least, that's my take on it. I've gone undercover on government functions, before. If my employer hadn't been bound by the law, I'd have been caught. This was before my days working for the SNA, by the by.
So, my three points:
Point 1 - This mystery woman seems to recognize me.
Point 2 - I've seen her in the M levels where no human is supposed to live or even visit.
Point 3 - She saved my life once on the M's and again at the Body event. Clearly, she is my guardian angel. But there's just one conclusion I can make from these points beyond that one.
Conclusion - This woman, who clearly spends time on the M's, is quite good at getting around quickly, who was at the Body event just before the 18 Bombs exploded, is clearly a terrorist.
She must be a Nogoodnick agent. She doesn't fit the profile--she's Caucasian and was seen, at least by me by herself--Nogoodnicks usually travel in twos or threes for protection.
I'm going to find her. Indeed, I'm going to nail her for this crime against all of humanity.
After my last entry I thought for quite a while about everything that I now knew about the 110 disaster and this mysterious woman that I have been trying to track: they seem to be connected. She was there at the Body event and seemed to lure me away just before the bombs went off.
Oh yes, of course--the bombs. In all the confusion, I forgot to blog about the bombs. Put simply, they were hidden in various areas around the outer walls of the top floor--or should I say windows. That's right--just where I had been standing minutes, even moments earlier, was nearly the exact spot where a bomb had been placed. I can't be exactly certain but I was standing against the Plecksi of the top floor windows.
It's been just four days since these 18 bombs went off (18, one to represent the 18 cities?), but corporate and government authorities feel convinced that they were set by the wait staff. It was their own sense of luxury that allowed the bombing to occur. If they'd only have stuck to standard employment regulations for all body functions, they'd have hired waiter droids from a body subsidiary. Then, at least the robots would have been traceable if their programming had been hacked. As it stands, laws governing humans protect the employee in certain government jobs. In this case an employee can elect to have his identity kept private if he or she doesn't care to admit to supporting a particular elected official of either the Body Corporate or the Body Government. It's one of those old privacy laws that never seems important until someone wants to ban it to get at you.
At least, that's my take on it. I've gone undercover on government functions, before. If my employer hadn't been bound by the law, I'd have been caught. This was before my days working for the SNA, by the by.
So, my three points:
Point 1 - This mystery woman seems to recognize me.
Point 2 - I've seen her in the M levels where no human is supposed to live or even visit.
Point 3 - She saved my life once on the M's and again at the Body event. Clearly, she is my guardian angel. But there's just one conclusion I can make from these points beyond that one.
Conclusion - This woman, who clearly spends time on the M's, is quite good at getting around quickly, who was at the Body event just before the 18 Bombs exploded, is clearly a terrorist.
She must be a Nogoodnick agent. She doesn't fit the profile--she's Caucasian and was seen, at least by me by herself--Nogoodnicks usually travel in twos or threes for protection.
I'm going to find her. Indeed, I'm going to nail her for this crime against all of humanity.
Friday, January 13, 2006
FutureBlog Entry #13
January 13, 2106 posted by Pete III
As I think back on that night now, I recall an uneasy calm. I suppose I was only nervous because of my context. I certainly wasn't used to hobnobbing with such elites. I am just a reporter and there I was in the same room with the High CEO and the President. They sat as you would probably expect--next to each other with their cabinets at tables on either side of them. The Body Corporate was to the left and Body Government to the right, as is the standard.
Their tables were up on a stage, while the rest of us sat at large, round tables made up like the tables themselves were brides to be. The entire room had walls of Plecksi rising up to a dome that mimicked the one protecting our city. There were even ornamental versions of the anti-bacterial towers that line the outside of our real dome. Even with these towers, from just about any location, along the walls, one could see nearly all of New Angels.
Madame Chancellor was force-feeding me to her various friends or people she referred to as friends but really couldn't stand. I don't enjoy social situations when the people I am to be social with make more money in a day than I make in a year. Some of them appeared to share the same distain for me. I don't blame them. I know my place and that dinner was not mine. I could not wait for the dinner to be served. The "drinks" portion of the event seemed to go on for quite longer than I thought I could bear.
As we moved from one group of wealthy people to the next, I made an excuse. "Look, Madame Chancellor, I, uh, could really see the plumber about now."
"No problem, kid. You know where it is?"
"I'm sure I can find it."
As I started for the exit, Chancellor added: "Don't get lost."
I smiled back at her. 'If I could only be so lucky' was the phrase I wore on my face.
As I reached exit I stepped aside letting by a waiter carrying a tray full of champagne. Yes, this was all class--actual human waiters. As I dodged another waiter, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a shadow, outside the wall of Plecksi I was facing. I stopped and squinted and I could clearly discern a shadow--one shaped suspiciously like a person--a woman, even--move toward one of the ornamental towers. Instead of descending the stairs and exiting I rushed to the Plecksi. I looked around to see if anyone had made the same observation I had, but all were absorbed in their business at hand.
As I looked back to the shape, I could now see it standing fully upright. It was the shape of a woman--it was her.
Without any warning what so ever, she dropped from view. My heart leapt and I raced down the steps to the next level down. I dashed to the window that was most directly beneath where she had been standing. She stood on the other side of it, still shrouded in shadow, but I could see her clearly enough. I have little doubt that she wanted me to see her.
The last time I had seen her she wore a strange mask that seemed to be covered in circuitry. She held her mask in her hand. I moved close to see that her face was actually quite beautiful. Porcelain-white, unlike the rest of her skin which was dark and dirty. She was... intoxicating...
I put my hand against the glass, hoping to make some sort of further connection with her. She stepped away from the edge of the window and dropped into the dark night.
I stood there for only seconds before my tranquility was shattered from above.
A massive explosion shook everything around me. I fell to the floor and could see flames lick down, around the windows on the floor I was on. Huge chunks of Plecksi fell over the side of the building and a large shaft of flame roared down the stairwell I had taken just minutes earlier, engulfing one of those human waiters along with two people who were attending the event.
The next thing I recall was waking up from the floor. I stood up and ignored my immediate dizziness. I rushed directly for the stairwell and then up it. I think it was then when I first noticed how cold it was. The middle of the night, on the top floor of one of the tallest buildings in New Angels, and the Plecksi dome was nearly completely gone.
Their were bodies everywhere. I ignored my fear and disgust with the gruesome sight and looked to the CEO and President. Both had been safely protected by the emergency shells built into the stage beneath their seats. Their shells were designed to resemble old sea shells one could find on beaches, when they were still safe to visit. It was a surreal image on top of an already all too surreal experience.
I don't know what I did next. I think I tried to find Madame Chancellor, but, as you know, I wasn't able to. I remember suddenly finding myself thinking about her--the mystery woman.
Clearly she saved my life.
But why didn't she save everyone else's?
More soon...
As I think back on that night now, I recall an uneasy calm. I suppose I was only nervous because of my context. I certainly wasn't used to hobnobbing with such elites. I am just a reporter and there I was in the same room with the High CEO and the President. They sat as you would probably expect--next to each other with their cabinets at tables on either side of them. The Body Corporate was to the left and Body Government to the right, as is the standard.
Their tables were up on a stage, while the rest of us sat at large, round tables made up like the tables themselves were brides to be. The entire room had walls of Plecksi rising up to a dome that mimicked the one protecting our city. There were even ornamental versions of the anti-bacterial towers that line the outside of our real dome. Even with these towers, from just about any location, along the walls, one could see nearly all of New Angels.
Madame Chancellor was force-feeding me to her various friends or people she referred to as friends but really couldn't stand. I don't enjoy social situations when the people I am to be social with make more money in a day than I make in a year. Some of them appeared to share the same distain for me. I don't blame them. I know my place and that dinner was not mine. I could not wait for the dinner to be served. The "drinks" portion of the event seemed to go on for quite longer than I thought I could bear.
As we moved from one group of wealthy people to the next, I made an excuse. "Look, Madame Chancellor, I, uh, could really see the plumber about now."
"No problem, kid. You know where it is?"
"I'm sure I can find it."
As I started for the exit, Chancellor added: "Don't get lost."
I smiled back at her. 'If I could only be so lucky' was the phrase I wore on my face.
As I reached exit I stepped aside letting by a waiter carrying a tray full of champagne. Yes, this was all class--actual human waiters. As I dodged another waiter, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a shadow, outside the wall of Plecksi I was facing. I stopped and squinted and I could clearly discern a shadow--one shaped suspiciously like a person--a woman, even--move toward one of the ornamental towers. Instead of descending the stairs and exiting I rushed to the Plecksi. I looked around to see if anyone had made the same observation I had, but all were absorbed in their business at hand.
As I looked back to the shape, I could now see it standing fully upright. It was the shape of a woman--it was her.
Without any warning what so ever, she dropped from view. My heart leapt and I raced down the steps to the next level down. I dashed to the window that was most directly beneath where she had been standing. She stood on the other side of it, still shrouded in shadow, but I could see her clearly enough. I have little doubt that she wanted me to see her.
The last time I had seen her she wore a strange mask that seemed to be covered in circuitry. She held her mask in her hand. I moved close to see that her face was actually quite beautiful. Porcelain-white, unlike the rest of her skin which was dark and dirty. She was... intoxicating...
I put my hand against the glass, hoping to make some sort of further connection with her. She stepped away from the edge of the window and dropped into the dark night.
I stood there for only seconds before my tranquility was shattered from above.
A massive explosion shook everything around me. I fell to the floor and could see flames lick down, around the windows on the floor I was on. Huge chunks of Plecksi fell over the side of the building and a large shaft of flame roared down the stairwell I had taken just minutes earlier, engulfing one of those human waiters along with two people who were attending the event.
The next thing I recall was waking up from the floor. I stood up and ignored my immediate dizziness. I rushed directly for the stairwell and then up it. I think it was then when I first noticed how cold it was. The middle of the night, on the top floor of one of the tallest buildings in New Angels, and the Plecksi dome was nearly completely gone.
Their were bodies everywhere. I ignored my fear and disgust with the gruesome sight and looked to the CEO and President. Both had been safely protected by the emergency shells built into the stage beneath their seats. Their shells were designed to resemble old sea shells one could find on beaches, when they were still safe to visit. It was a surreal image on top of an already all too surreal experience.
I don't know what I did next. I think I tried to find Madame Chancellor, but, as you know, I wasn't able to. I remember suddenly finding myself thinking about her--the mystery woman.
Clearly she saved my life.
But why didn't she save everyone else's?
More soon...
Thursday, January 12, 2006
FutureBlog Entry #12
January 12, 2106 posted by Pete III
My apologies for yesterdays all too short entry. It's difficult for me to find time away from others to do a second blog entry every day. Remember that we all keep blogs as it is required by law. Even writing a page each day can be taxing for people who are as busy as I and after the events of 110, I am pressed for time to sleep, eat and even use the facilities. "110", in case you are curious, is the new media catchphrase for the terrorist attack I had the distinct displeasure of being an eyewitness to the night before last.
Having been there I have been asked onto every chat vod from here to New Edin and back. I've was even on Good Luck Earth, the most popular chat vod of our times. Did you have vods back in your day? I'm not sure--yes, of course, you did. I'm not sure what they were called, however.
I think I may be just too easily distracted by thoughts of the violence the other night. Seeing her there makes me wonder just what she is up to. When I first saw her I was intrigued but if it turns out she's just another Nogoodnick bent on the destruction of our way of life, then I think I should take a different tact when I next pursue this story.
The good news I have to report is that Madame Chancellor has turned up alive and well. She did take a fall, but miraculously, she survived. I don't have all of the details as I haven't had time to see her. I hope to pay her a visit in hospital tonight or tomorrow.
In the meantime, I've been making the vod rounds and also wrote a quick piece for SNADS--the SNA Daily Site. I'll try to paste a copy of my article into my next entry just so you can see what modern journalism looks like. That reminds me--I have to stop by my health official and get a new prescription of Alta. My nerves are absolutely out of control right now and thanks to the number of times I've had to recount what I saw at the attack I've completely run out. Alta, which I know you don't have back in the twenty-first century, is a sort of nerve calming drug. It's non-habit forming and allows many of us in the more stressful occupations to keep doing what we love.
I'm sure it's saved my employer from having a number of heart attacks.
Let me try to encapsulate what is going on currently.
The Nogoodnicks are a group of terrorists, with agents in all of the eighteen cities. They are led by a man called Hugh de Molay. De Molay was a member of the Muja Rebels--a team formed from the remnants of the so-called Free Government of New Calcutta. Our history books tells us that when the Eighteen Cities were being founded, there was originally planned to be twenty. The nineteenth city was to be new Calcutta, but there was a local movement who didn't want a Plecksidome built nor did they want the protections that the Bodies promised. Using terror, they fought with Body authorities until the gloves were taken off and the movement was nearly obliterated. The few who remained were forced to surrender and to promise to never attempt to even inspire revolution again.
De Molay, himself, signed the contract. Yet, he didn't stop fighting the Bodies Corporate and Government. He is regarded by most as spineless and deceitful. Yet there is just enough support for he and his followers to blow things up on occasion.
Usually, the attacks only kill a handful of people and come once or twice a year. However, with the attack of 110, the death toll is now pushing one hundred. It seems that I am very lucky to have survived.
Blast--I've got to get myself to my health official. I can feel my nerves acting up again.
More tomorrow...
My apologies for yesterdays all too short entry. It's difficult for me to find time away from others to do a second blog entry every day. Remember that we all keep blogs as it is required by law. Even writing a page each day can be taxing for people who are as busy as I and after the events of 110, I am pressed for time to sleep, eat and even use the facilities. "110", in case you are curious, is the new media catchphrase for the terrorist attack I had the distinct displeasure of being an eyewitness to the night before last.
Having been there I have been asked onto every chat vod from here to New Edin and back. I've was even on Good Luck Earth, the most popular chat vod of our times. Did you have vods back in your day? I'm not sure--yes, of course, you did. I'm not sure what they were called, however.
I think I may be just too easily distracted by thoughts of the violence the other night. Seeing her there makes me wonder just what she is up to. When I first saw her I was intrigued but if it turns out she's just another Nogoodnick bent on the destruction of our way of life, then I think I should take a different tact when I next pursue this story.
The good news I have to report is that Madame Chancellor has turned up alive and well. She did take a fall, but miraculously, she survived. I don't have all of the details as I haven't had time to see her. I hope to pay her a visit in hospital tonight or tomorrow.
In the meantime, I've been making the vod rounds and also wrote a quick piece for SNADS--the SNA Daily Site. I'll try to paste a copy of my article into my next entry just so you can see what modern journalism looks like. That reminds me--I have to stop by my health official and get a new prescription of Alta. My nerves are absolutely out of control right now and thanks to the number of times I've had to recount what I saw at the attack I've completely run out. Alta, which I know you don't have back in the twenty-first century, is a sort of nerve calming drug. It's non-habit forming and allows many of us in the more stressful occupations to keep doing what we love.
I'm sure it's saved my employer from having a number of heart attacks.
Let me try to encapsulate what is going on currently.
The Nogoodnicks are a group of terrorists, with agents in all of the eighteen cities. They are led by a man called Hugh de Molay. De Molay was a member of the Muja Rebels--a team formed from the remnants of the so-called Free Government of New Calcutta. Our history books tells us that when the Eighteen Cities were being founded, there was originally planned to be twenty. The nineteenth city was to be new Calcutta, but there was a local movement who didn't want a Plecksidome built nor did they want the protections that the Bodies promised. Using terror, they fought with Body authorities until the gloves were taken off and the movement was nearly obliterated. The few who remained were forced to surrender and to promise to never attempt to even inspire revolution again.
De Molay, himself, signed the contract. Yet, he didn't stop fighting the Bodies Corporate and Government. He is regarded by most as spineless and deceitful. Yet there is just enough support for he and his followers to blow things up on occasion.
Usually, the attacks only kill a handful of people and come once or twice a year. However, with the attack of 110, the death toll is now pushing one hundred. It seems that I am very lucky to have survived.
Blast--I've got to get myself to my health official. I can feel my nerves acting up again.
More tomorrow...
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
FutureBlog Entry #11
January 11, 2106 posted by Pete III
There has been a horrible tragedy and I'm afraid I don't have the time to explain everything I'd like to right now. It's very much chaotic and I'm afraid that I won't make the most sense if I try to explain everything to you now.
The short version of the story is that the Nogoodnicks struck the dinner. There was an absolutely horrible explosion and something like fifty or sixty people perished. We're not sure of the exact number of dead as many fell from the building. Scanning crews have been searching for bodies, but they're difficult to find.
Those bastards hit the dinner because it was filled to the brim with the elite of New Angels. The mayor, the governor, the CEO and the CFO, as well. I think at least three of them are dead. I lost Chancellor in the confusion. I tried contacting her but her dev wasn't picking up. I don't have high hopes.
The entire top floor of the City Conference Center was wired to blow. It was a miracle that only a portion of the bombs went off. I can't imagine what the Nogoodnicks hope to accomplish by doing something horrible like this. In fact, I don't see how terrorism has ever been a viable alternative to diplomacy or even peaceful protests.
This is simply horrible. There were flames everywhere!
We were lucky Body Authorities were there as quickly as they were. Those other bombs would have gone off in seconds had they not been there when they were. It was truly a miracle.
I just need some time to gather my thoughts. When you witness something like that first hand, it truly is a horrifying experience and I'm afraid my ears are still ringing and the faces of the dead have yet to leave my mind and...
I think she was there.
I can't accept that she had anything to do with the bombing, however. I simply can't...
There has been a horrible tragedy and I'm afraid I don't have the time to explain everything I'd like to right now. It's very much chaotic and I'm afraid that I won't make the most sense if I try to explain everything to you now.
The short version of the story is that the Nogoodnicks struck the dinner. There was an absolutely horrible explosion and something like fifty or sixty people perished. We're not sure of the exact number of dead as many fell from the building. Scanning crews have been searching for bodies, but they're difficult to find.
Those bastards hit the dinner because it was filled to the brim with the elite of New Angels. The mayor, the governor, the CEO and the CFO, as well. I think at least three of them are dead. I lost Chancellor in the confusion. I tried contacting her but her dev wasn't picking up. I don't have high hopes.
The entire top floor of the City Conference Center was wired to blow. It was a miracle that only a portion of the bombs went off. I can't imagine what the Nogoodnicks hope to accomplish by doing something horrible like this. In fact, I don't see how terrorism has ever been a viable alternative to diplomacy or even peaceful protests.
This is simply horrible. There were flames everywhere!
We were lucky Body Authorities were there as quickly as they were. Those other bombs would have gone off in seconds had they not been there when they were. It was truly a miracle.
I just need some time to gather my thoughts. When you witness something like that first hand, it truly is a horrifying experience and I'm afraid my ears are still ringing and the faces of the dead have yet to leave my mind and...
I think she was there.
I can't accept that she had anything to do with the bombing, however. I simply can't...
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
FutureBlog Entry #10
January 10, 2106 posted by Pete III
I'm not at all a fitful sleeper. My dad used to joke that I got it from my grandfather, Pete. Of course, that was impossible since my dad was adopted, so genetically speaking, it is impossible for me to have gotten any of my biological traits from him. Still, I wake at the drop of a pin, just like my granddad, according to my dad.
Honestly, I can sleep through quite loud noises if I'm expecting them, or rather, used to them. When I was a child growing up in New Edin, the weather authorities experimented with letting it rain in order to lower the costs of cleaning the buildings. When the storm generators created ten storm systems in a single day, they couldn't get rid of them. So we all had to get used to ten storm systems quite literally bouncing into one another for the better part of a week. The first few days were torturous, but by the end of the week I could sleep through the loudest thunder crash.
I don't know how active the night was back in the early twenty-first century, but now there is really no difference between night and day in regards to when people work. It's a twenty-four-hour-a-day society. Despite the lack of sunlight, you're just as likely to see people walking in the park at three in the morning as you are twelve hours later.
Often, I don't sleep at all during the night. It's when I do my best investigating. However, the night after we got back from the M's, I was wiped out. Since that day I've been laying low and taking it easy. I could have easily been killed down there and I wanted to get comfortable in my own skin before I went back down there.
However, that night, I could have sworn that mystery woman had come to me--as I slept--not to me in bed, or anything, but to my window. There's no walkway immediately outside my flat, but I heard a noise at around forty-past-two. I'm not sure what it was, but when I opened my eyes, I saw the shadow of a woman move across the wall in front of my bed. Above the head of my bed is the window. As my very fatigued brain finished processing what I had seen I sat up and turned on the light. Glancing out the window first, I saw no one there, turning my attention back to the room I saw Ryca standing there, like a statue.
I still maintain that there is something suspicious about her. She really shouldn't have been able to save me that night.
In the end, I couldn't find any woman--well, any real woman, anyway. Unfortunately, I have to cut this short, today. My wonderful employer, the good Madame Chancellor, you remember her, has "invited" me to attend a rather important dinner event that is being co-sponsored by both the Body Corporate and the Body Government, our two most powerful groups.
The call went something like this:
"Heya, kid! It's Chancellor."
"Madame Chancellor, what can I do for you?"
"Remember that big dinner-thing I told you about?"
"The event last night?"
"Yeah, well, thanks to Nogoodnick chatter, it got pushed back to tonight and my date just volunteered you by bailing on me."
"Really."
"I assume you're free tonight?"
"Yes, indeed," I said trying to smile for her over the connection.
"Great, see you at midnight."
She should be here any minute, so I'd better finish this up. More soon...
I'm not at all a fitful sleeper. My dad used to joke that I got it from my grandfather, Pete. Of course, that was impossible since my dad was adopted, so genetically speaking, it is impossible for me to have gotten any of my biological traits from him. Still, I wake at the drop of a pin, just like my granddad, according to my dad.
Honestly, I can sleep through quite loud noises if I'm expecting them, or rather, used to them. When I was a child growing up in New Edin, the weather authorities experimented with letting it rain in order to lower the costs of cleaning the buildings. When the storm generators created ten storm systems in a single day, they couldn't get rid of them. So we all had to get used to ten storm systems quite literally bouncing into one another for the better part of a week. The first few days were torturous, but by the end of the week I could sleep through the loudest thunder crash.
I don't know how active the night was back in the early twenty-first century, but now there is really no difference between night and day in regards to when people work. It's a twenty-four-hour-a-day society. Despite the lack of sunlight, you're just as likely to see people walking in the park at three in the morning as you are twelve hours later.
Often, I don't sleep at all during the night. It's when I do my best investigating. However, the night after we got back from the M's, I was wiped out. Since that day I've been laying low and taking it easy. I could have easily been killed down there and I wanted to get comfortable in my own skin before I went back down there.
However, that night, I could have sworn that mystery woman had come to me--as I slept--not to me in bed, or anything, but to my window. There's no walkway immediately outside my flat, but I heard a noise at around forty-past-two. I'm not sure what it was, but when I opened my eyes, I saw the shadow of a woman move across the wall in front of my bed. Above the head of my bed is the window. As my very fatigued brain finished processing what I had seen I sat up and turned on the light. Glancing out the window first, I saw no one there, turning my attention back to the room I saw Ryca standing there, like a statue.
I still maintain that there is something suspicious about her. She really shouldn't have been able to save me that night.
In the end, I couldn't find any woman--well, any real woman, anyway. Unfortunately, I have to cut this short, today. My wonderful employer, the good Madame Chancellor, you remember her, has "invited" me to attend a rather important dinner event that is being co-sponsored by both the Body Corporate and the Body Government, our two most powerful groups.
The call went something like this:
"Heya, kid! It's Chancellor."
"Madame Chancellor, what can I do for you?"
"Remember that big dinner-thing I told you about?"
"The event last night?"
"Yeah, well, thanks to Nogoodnick chatter, it got pushed back to tonight and my date just volunteered you by bailing on me."
"Really."
"I assume you're free tonight?"
"Yes, indeed," I said trying to smile for her over the connection.
"Great, see you at midnight."
She should be here any minute, so I'd better finish this up. More soon...
Monday, January 9, 2006
FutureBlog Entry #9
January 9, 2106 posted by Pete III
When I awoke, I felt as though I were waking from a coma. My eyes took a very long time to adjust to being open after feeling like they had been shut for a very long time. I could barely make out the shape of a woman standing over me.
"You?" I asked, trying to reach out to her and sit up a the same time. I quickly felt dizzy and put my head back down on the...pillow??
I remember not wanting to move but moving just enough to feel a mattress beneath me.
How had I gotten to a bed?
I squinted hard and slowly my eyes came back to me. I looked again to the female form staring down at me. Was it her? The mysterious female under dweller?
"Are you feeling fine, Pete?"
No, it was Ryca.
I looked around at my surroundings and saw what looked to me like my flat from university--not mine, precisely, but a more than reasonable facsimile. It was a mess--clutter everywhere. Clothes, trinkets, bits of machinery and electronics seemed to be scattered everywhere. There was even one jumble of metal, circuit boards and wires in the corner that was easily a meter square.
"Where in the eighteen cities am I and how did I get here?"
Ryca was silent.
"Ryca, I'm asking you. How did we get here?"
Ryca was silent for a long moment and then spoke. "I received... word that... you had been hurt and that you needed help."
"You got my ping?"
"Y-yes, that's right."
She was hesitating--a robot that hesitates? What was this nonsense?
"And then?" I asked.
"And--I was helped by the woman you are searching for down to the level you had fallen to and together we got you here."
She started her sentence with the word "and"--this is not grammatically correct nor is it logical for a robot to do. I decided I should keep asking here questions. "And where did she go?"
"I have no information on where she went."
"And where is here?"
"These are the quarters of a maintenance robot."
"Since when do robots get quarters?"
"Many robots need recharging stations. With the abundance of space that is unsafe to humans and even some androids, it was determined that we could have quarters."
"Well, where is this maintenance robot? I'd like to thank him."
Suddenly, the meter-square cube of metal and circuit boards shook and began to glow from onboard light sources.
"These are my quarters," the box-shaped robot said.
"And what do you need with a bed and a pillow?" I demanded.
He shook for a moment and then began to shift around--or rather, bits of him began to shift around. Before I knew it he was standing as a humanoid would, about five feet tall, with two arms, two legs and a head.
"He's a transmog," Ryca said. "It's the only way he can survive down here."
"Just because my muscles are made of metal and carbon fiber does not mean they don't ache, Mr. Three."
I must have made a face because he definitely reacted. My face was thanks to his comment--robot muscles ache? I glanced over to see Ryca almost emoting through her plastic face. She seemed to be motioning for the other droid to be quiet.
I tried again to sit up.
The slower I moved the better I felt.
"Mr. Maintenance Droid," I said, "have you seen a human woman around?"
"Negative. I have no information on a human woman being around." He sounded nothing like he had just moments ago.
"Pete, we should leave if your medical health is adequate for travel."
I checked my watch--it was 04:00. "You're right. I have to report in to Madame Chancellor in five hours. It's going to take about as long to get back to the surface.
"I have consulted with a local traffic computer and it has provided data that will allow us to return to CL in just 1.23 hours."
"From here to City Level in 1.23 hours?"
"Yes, Pete."
Bloody robots never know when to use your name and when not to. Her voice was still as bland as ever, but I couldn't help projecting some of my own sarcasm into her voice.
"Here are two scaling pods you can use," the maintenance robot said, pointing to two pods similar to the one that had been destroyed while on my back.
I was still achy, but surprisingly capable of getting around. Within minutes we were scaling a slotless wall, moving toward CL. Unfortunately, it was still dark even above City Level as it wasn't even 05:30 yet when we made it.
There was something very strange, indeed, about my night. I am growing a theory that tells me there's more going on inside Ryca's circuits than simply keeping any eye on me.
More soon...
When I awoke, I felt as though I were waking from a coma. My eyes took a very long time to adjust to being open after feeling like they had been shut for a very long time. I could barely make out the shape of a woman standing over me.
"You?" I asked, trying to reach out to her and sit up a the same time. I quickly felt dizzy and put my head back down on the...pillow??
I remember not wanting to move but moving just enough to feel a mattress beneath me.
How had I gotten to a bed?
I squinted hard and slowly my eyes came back to me. I looked again to the female form staring down at me. Was it her? The mysterious female under dweller?
"Are you feeling fine, Pete?"
No, it was Ryca.
I looked around at my surroundings and saw what looked to me like my flat from university--not mine, precisely, but a more than reasonable facsimile. It was a mess--clutter everywhere. Clothes, trinkets, bits of machinery and electronics seemed to be scattered everywhere. There was even one jumble of metal, circuit boards and wires in the corner that was easily a meter square.
"Where in the eighteen cities am I and how did I get here?"
Ryca was silent.
"Ryca, I'm asking you. How did we get here?"
Ryca was silent for a long moment and then spoke. "I received... word that... you had been hurt and that you needed help."
"You got my ping?"
"Y-yes, that's right."
She was hesitating--a robot that hesitates? What was this nonsense?
"And then?" I asked.
"And--I was helped by the woman you are searching for down to the level you had fallen to and together we got you here."
She started her sentence with the word "and"--this is not grammatically correct nor is it logical for a robot to do. I decided I should keep asking here questions. "And where did she go?"
"I have no information on where she went."
"And where is here?"
"These are the quarters of a maintenance robot."
"Since when do robots get quarters?"
"Many robots need recharging stations. With the abundance of space that is unsafe to humans and even some androids, it was determined that we could have quarters."
"Well, where is this maintenance robot? I'd like to thank him."
Suddenly, the meter-square cube of metal and circuit boards shook and began to glow from onboard light sources.
"These are my quarters," the box-shaped robot said.
"And what do you need with a bed and a pillow?" I demanded.
He shook for a moment and then began to shift around--or rather, bits of him began to shift around. Before I knew it he was standing as a humanoid would, about five feet tall, with two arms, two legs and a head.
"He's a transmog," Ryca said. "It's the only way he can survive down here."
"Just because my muscles are made of metal and carbon fiber does not mean they don't ache, Mr. Three."
I must have made a face because he definitely reacted. My face was thanks to his comment--robot muscles ache? I glanced over to see Ryca almost emoting through her plastic face. She seemed to be motioning for the other droid to be quiet.
I tried again to sit up.
The slower I moved the better I felt.
"Mr. Maintenance Droid," I said, "have you seen a human woman around?"
"Negative. I have no information on a human woman being around." He sounded nothing like he had just moments ago.
"Pete, we should leave if your medical health is adequate for travel."
I checked my watch--it was 04:00. "You're right. I have to report in to Madame Chancellor in five hours. It's going to take about as long to get back to the surface.
"I have consulted with a local traffic computer and it has provided data that will allow us to return to CL in just 1.23 hours."
"From here to City Level in 1.23 hours?"
"Yes, Pete."
Bloody robots never know when to use your name and when not to. Her voice was still as bland as ever, but I couldn't help projecting some of my own sarcasm into her voice.
"Here are two scaling pods you can use," the maintenance robot said, pointing to two pods similar to the one that had been destroyed while on my back.
I was still achy, but surprisingly capable of getting around. Within minutes we were scaling a slotless wall, moving toward CL. Unfortunately, it was still dark even above City Level as it wasn't even 05:30 yet when we made it.
There was something very strange, indeed, about my night. I am growing a theory that tells me there's more going on inside Ryca's circuits than simply keeping any eye on me.
More soon...
Sunday, January 8, 2006
FutureBlog Entry #8
January 8, 2106 posted by Pete III
The scaling pod handled the job of carrying me downward brilliantly. I watched as pools of multicolored lights illuminated various areas around me. Flat surfaces at odd, seemingly illogical angles made me feel like I was passing through a surreal painting from a couple centuries ago. Strange machines were also abundant as were various types of robots. Some were fairly humanoid for not being allowed down this far.
I must admit that getting as far as I had was much easier than I had expected. Though I resisted the urge to pat myself on the back, I did feel some pride for my luck and/or skill in waltzing beyond the 33rd.
I remember wondering why the Nogoodnicks didn't hide out down there. That's right about the time I learned precisely why they didn't--a really quite massive cylindrical blade seemed to come out of nowhere and very nearly sliced the soles clean away from my shoes.
As I continued lowering, I could make out a series of long slots crisscrossing the wall I was riding down. I then had this vision in my head of that blade that had narrowly missed me sliding through those slots. After a second glance at those slots I saw that they looked to be less than two-to-three meters apart. I could tell right away that I was about to have very little wiggle room.
I passed over the first slot and then the second without incident. I still had seven or eight more to go. I was understandably concerned.
I passed the third and then the fourth. I was careful to keep my arms to myself and held my feet as close to my rear as I could, as well. I looked above me to see my suspicions confirmed. The giant blade appeared again, through the slot second from the top. Then, without a full second passing, another large cylindrical blade rose outward and then sunk back in to the third slot down. Then the same for the fourth.
It was gaining on me.
I glanced around to see if I could find anywhere to escape to, but there was nothing. Everything would have been beyond the reach of the second autonet I had brought.
I checked for a speed control on my scaling pod, but apparently window cleaners are paid by the hour so slow travel is appreciated.
I thought about using my dev to call out to Ryca. I couldn't think of anything she could have done to help me, save, look for the body after I fell to my death. I could also dev for real help, but that would get me in serious trouble.
The blade appeared just above my head as the pod carried me over the final slot. After a moment, the slot was even with the small of my back. The blade had been appearing at less-than-a-second intervals and this felt a lot longer than a second--it had been at least five by my reckoning.
Then, quite suddenly, I was thrust from the wall by the blade. Luckily, the scaling pod protected me from the blade, but now I was falling.
I thought about deving Ryca, but it was almost immediately too late for that. Within mere seconds I slammed into the surface of some sort of structure. I stood up and checked my limbs to be certain that I hadn't been damaged.
I was fine, thankfully.
Before I had a moment to take a second breath a massive claw, not dissimilar to the one that had saved me the previous night appeared from nowhere and nearly sliced me into three (no pun intended). I barely jumped out of the way only to find another claw headed in the opposite direction, but still right at me. Dodging this one, as well, I immediately found myself captured by a third, which carried me to the edge of the structure I had landed on and, quite literally, tossed me over the side.
This time I wasn't impacting on anything within seconds. I was falling several meters. Through the shadows and colored lights I saw some sort of outcropping headed my way (or was it vice-versa?). I tried to grab onto it as it passed me--I very nearly missed it completely and very nearly yanked my arm out of its socket in stopping myself from falling.
Unfortunately, I also slammed, head-first, into a nearby wall which made me think I was about to lose consciousness. Luckily, I only saw spots for the next few minutes as I hung there.
I was able to get my dev out. I opened up a voxlink.
"Yes, hello, Ryca?" I hesitated as she replied yes. I was having trouble forming sentences. "I'm seeming to have a bit of difficulty. Could you be a dear and come down and save my life?"
"I cannot--" that's all I can remember her saying just before I passed out. Yes, I passed out while hanging there. No, I didn't hold on for more than a few seconds.
The last thing I remember before blacking out was the feeling of wind on my face.
That and understanding fully why no humans or humanoids are allowed lower than the 33rd level.
The scaling pod handled the job of carrying me downward brilliantly. I watched as pools of multicolored lights illuminated various areas around me. Flat surfaces at odd, seemingly illogical angles made me feel like I was passing through a surreal painting from a couple centuries ago. Strange machines were also abundant as were various types of robots. Some were fairly humanoid for not being allowed down this far.
I must admit that getting as far as I had was much easier than I had expected. Though I resisted the urge to pat myself on the back, I did feel some pride for my luck and/or skill in waltzing beyond the 33rd.
I remember wondering why the Nogoodnicks didn't hide out down there. That's right about the time I learned precisely why they didn't--a really quite massive cylindrical blade seemed to come out of nowhere and very nearly sliced the soles clean away from my shoes.
As I continued lowering, I could make out a series of long slots crisscrossing the wall I was riding down. I then had this vision in my head of that blade that had narrowly missed me sliding through those slots. After a second glance at those slots I saw that they looked to be less than two-to-three meters apart. I could tell right away that I was about to have very little wiggle room.
I passed over the first slot and then the second without incident. I still had seven or eight more to go. I was understandably concerned.
I passed the third and then the fourth. I was careful to keep my arms to myself and held my feet as close to my rear as I could, as well. I looked above me to see my suspicions confirmed. The giant blade appeared again, through the slot second from the top. Then, without a full second passing, another large cylindrical blade rose outward and then sunk back in to the third slot down. Then the same for the fourth.
It was gaining on me.
I glanced around to see if I could find anywhere to escape to, but there was nothing. Everything would have been beyond the reach of the second autonet I had brought.
I checked for a speed control on my scaling pod, but apparently window cleaners are paid by the hour so slow travel is appreciated.
I thought about using my dev to call out to Ryca. I couldn't think of anything she could have done to help me, save, look for the body after I fell to my death. I could also dev for real help, but that would get me in serious trouble.
The blade appeared just above my head as the pod carried me over the final slot. After a moment, the slot was even with the small of my back. The blade had been appearing at less-than-a-second intervals and this felt a lot longer than a second--it had been at least five by my reckoning.
Then, quite suddenly, I was thrust from the wall by the blade. Luckily, the scaling pod protected me from the blade, but now I was falling.
I thought about deving Ryca, but it was almost immediately too late for that. Within mere seconds I slammed into the surface of some sort of structure. I stood up and checked my limbs to be certain that I hadn't been damaged.
I was fine, thankfully.
Before I had a moment to take a second breath a massive claw, not dissimilar to the one that had saved me the previous night appeared from nowhere and nearly sliced me into three (no pun intended). I barely jumped out of the way only to find another claw headed in the opposite direction, but still right at me. Dodging this one, as well, I immediately found myself captured by a third, which carried me to the edge of the structure I had landed on and, quite literally, tossed me over the side.
This time I wasn't impacting on anything within seconds. I was falling several meters. Through the shadows and colored lights I saw some sort of outcropping headed my way (or was it vice-versa?). I tried to grab onto it as it passed me--I very nearly missed it completely and very nearly yanked my arm out of its socket in stopping myself from falling.
Unfortunately, I also slammed, head-first, into a nearby wall which made me think I was about to lose consciousness. Luckily, I only saw spots for the next few minutes as I hung there.
I was able to get my dev out. I opened up a voxlink.
"Yes, hello, Ryca?" I hesitated as she replied yes. I was having trouble forming sentences. "I'm seeming to have a bit of difficulty. Could you be a dear and come down and save my life?"
"I cannot--" that's all I can remember her saying just before I passed out. Yes, I passed out while hanging there. No, I didn't hold on for more than a few seconds.
The last thing I remember before blacking out was the feeling of wind on my face.
That and understanding fully why no humans or humanoids are allowed lower than the 33rd level.
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