Dials and switches covered the controls. Gauges gave readings that had meaning only to the being that operated them. The patient, strapped to a flat, metallic surface, summoned the strength to ask, "You're going to kill me, aren't you?"
"I assure you that whatever legends you've heard about me have probably been quite twisted by time," came the reply, "I help people, and humans especially."
"Is that why you refer to yourself as a healer? Do you honestly believe any of that?"
He turned a knob and attached a canister of fluid to a port as he replied, "I know that you're upset now, but you'll see. You're the last one, you know. In just a few moments, there will no longer be any humans with any sort of prejudice at all."
"Well, doesn't that sound just lovely?" asked the patient, sarcasm not the only thing dripping from him in this makeshift medical laboratory. "When you put it like that, it sounds like you're not killing me at all, and certainly not leaving my body to some shell of a man who happens to share the same memories."
The Doctor smirked at this, and approached. "You make it sound as if I don't know anything about bodies and memories. I'll have you know that this--"
"Twenty-seventh," replied the patient, silencing his would-be executioner. "You were going to say that this is your twenty-seventh incarnation, weren't you, Doctor?"
His face blanched at the interruption, and a moderate frown crept across his face. "Well, you seem to know more about me than you let on. You've even kept count. And how did you manage that?"
A smug grin snuck its way onto the patient's face, but was quickly squelched. "Surely a man of your experience knows that there's more than one way to travel through time. Let's just say that we got here the old-fashioned way."
"'We'? Who exactly is 'we'?"
"Never mind, Herr Monster. The point is that I've served as more than adequate bait for you," and with that, the patient slipped out of consciousness.
"Hey. HEY!" The Doctor went back to the console, adjusted some knobs to reduce the sedative effect, and returned. "What did you mean by all that?!"
"Ah," said the patient, sluggishly, "Anger. How characteristic that is of your fifth, tenth, seventeenth, eighteenth,...." He passed out again, the mad scientist grabbing his most important tool and running off. He returned promptly, even angrier than before. "The TARDIS, where is it?!"
"Should I tell you? You'll find out eventually, but will you be able to do anything about it if you find out too soon?"
"Don't you dare think that you can out-clever me, I'm the cleverest one of all!" He began a casual pace. "You said that you were the perfect bait, so this must be part of some elaborate trap. Well, never mind that. Nobody can keep me from the TARDIS for long, for I have a TARDIS key!" He produced the key from a pocket, holding it tightly in his grip. He stick it horizontally in the air, waited a moment, and then withdrew it, puzzled.
"It's a good thing for you that you came back in as quickly as you did. You forgot to count the stars, but I can count them from here. Herr Monster, would you like to know why I was on an abandoned planet when you found me, or have you figured it out by now?"
"There aren't any stars, are there? You've somehow sent us to an empty universe. But, if that's so, then you'll die, too, freezing to death with me. But, why? For the lives of us both, why?"
"You know, I'd like to explain about how it all started when you started systematically 'correcting' people for what you saw as their flaws - around thirteen or so - but really, we had to be sure, you know? So, that rumbling sound just now will be Osterhagen system."
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Sudden Short Story 26
"I propose an experiment that requires you to not assimilate us for a limited time."
The approaching machinery came to a halt, but maintained its poise, ready to reach out and take the remaining humans. Their apparent leader loosed the catch on a dead-man switch, preparing to drop it at a moment's notice.
"Demonstrate that you have such a proposal," spoke a thousand metal voices, "and it will be considered."
"I hypothesize that our minds are better left separate than forced together, because it is in this way that our creativity flourishes. Among us are painters, sculptors, poets, authors, and other artists. I believe that, though the works would not be produced quite as rapidly as in the collective, the quality will be unmatched. These works will be finer than whatever you manage to create. Note that this experiment can only happen before you perform the irreversible reaction of assimilating us."
The machine was silent for a moment, as the collective that had overtaken Earth's civilization considered this. It spoke again: "Your posture and tone, as well as the device that you hold, suggest that you intend to threaten us if we do not intend to comply with your proposal. What is your threat?"
Speaking directly, the leader said, "I have created the Chandrasekhar Device, which will destroy the Earth-Moon System if activated."
"That is impossible. There is insufficient matter in the Earth-Moon System to create electron-degenerate matter."
"It's neutron-degenerate matter, actually, and it doesn't need to be sustainable. Among the gravitational waves, the tidal forces, the radiation of collapse, the radiation of expansion, and that from the newly-created radioactive elements, neither life-form nor electronic will be able to survive. All that will remain will be a three-puddle of molten rock and dust."
"That is still impossible. Neutron-degenerate matter lacks charge, and therefore cannot be contained by any device. Such a device would not be able to create a sufficient concentration to damage anything but itself."
"That would be true if it created the material within itself. However, I have devised a system of quantum entanglement to allow the containment to exist outside of the device, which means that I am no longer constrained by my device's mass or volume. I was able to use a simpler version of the same technique to transmit the signal from this switch, meaning that the Faraday cage that you've no doubt constructed around this facility will do you no good."
Another pause occurred. The machinery receded slightly.
"We would be willing to give you one year for your experiment. However, what assurance do we have that you will not destroy this planet anyway if you do not get the result that you want?"
"You have only my word, but you also have my solemn vow that, if you refuse this offer, or if you attempt to come for us before the time is up, then I will destroy this system and everything on it."
The great arm and mouthpiece of the collective began to recede from the facility.
"You have your year. Use it well."
The approaching machinery came to a halt, but maintained its poise, ready to reach out and take the remaining humans. Their apparent leader loosed the catch on a dead-man switch, preparing to drop it at a moment's notice.
"Demonstrate that you have such a proposal," spoke a thousand metal voices, "and it will be considered."
"I hypothesize that our minds are better left separate than forced together, because it is in this way that our creativity flourishes. Among us are painters, sculptors, poets, authors, and other artists. I believe that, though the works would not be produced quite as rapidly as in the collective, the quality will be unmatched. These works will be finer than whatever you manage to create. Note that this experiment can only happen before you perform the irreversible reaction of assimilating us."
The machine was silent for a moment, as the collective that had overtaken Earth's civilization considered this. It spoke again: "Your posture and tone, as well as the device that you hold, suggest that you intend to threaten us if we do not intend to comply with your proposal. What is your threat?"
Speaking directly, the leader said, "I have created the Chandrasekhar Device, which will destroy the Earth-Moon System if activated."
"That is impossible. There is insufficient matter in the Earth-Moon System to create electron-degenerate matter."
"It's neutron-degenerate matter, actually, and it doesn't need to be sustainable. Among the gravitational waves, the tidal forces, the radiation of collapse, the radiation of expansion, and that from the newly-created radioactive elements, neither life-form nor electronic will be able to survive. All that will remain will be a three-puddle of molten rock and dust."
"That is still impossible. Neutron-degenerate matter lacks charge, and therefore cannot be contained by any device. Such a device would not be able to create a sufficient concentration to damage anything but itself."
"That would be true if it created the material within itself. However, I have devised a system of quantum entanglement to allow the containment to exist outside of the device, which means that I am no longer constrained by my device's mass or volume. I was able to use a simpler version of the same technique to transmit the signal from this switch, meaning that the Faraday cage that you've no doubt constructed around this facility will do you no good."
Another pause occurred. The machinery receded slightly.
"We would be willing to give you one year for your experiment. However, what assurance do we have that you will not destroy this planet anyway if you do not get the result that you want?"
"You have only my word, but you also have my solemn vow that, if you refuse this offer, or if you attempt to come for us before the time is up, then I will destroy this system and everything on it."
The great arm and mouthpiece of the collective began to recede from the facility.
"You have your year. Use it well."
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
MC Wiki
This is my announcement, on this blog, that I've made another blog, just for Minecraft stuff. Specifically, I thought this up about two weeks ago, since it would be good for some mods that I'm planning to develop, as well as Minecraft stuff in general. Though, both have been brought to a screeching halt by medical necessity. Soon, though, I'll be over this, and then it's back to the virtual mines! ... The future is weird.
Perpetual "Lent"
NOTE: I actually had the idea for this post last week, but illness and side-effects of medication have kept me away from blogger until now.
So, during Lent, Catholics give up something that they enjoy for 40 days (though it's apparently 46 days with breaks on Sundays?) to emulate being in a Roman prison for a comparable period of time. Yeah, I don't get it, either. Anyway, I realized that, in a way, I'm always giving up something that I like. It all comes down to time. Work sucks up 42+ hours per week, plus commuting time. However, it grants me money, so that I can buy stuff that I want. The tricky thing is finding time to do everything that I want. Do I play Minecraft, or TF2? Or Dungeons of Dredmore? Or Dungeon Defenders? Or Pokemon? Do I catch up on new YouTube subscription videos, or watch old favorites? Or do I listen to a podcast? Should I read that next HP Lovecraft story, or a fairy tale? Or should I be digging around for old planetary romance novels?
This might sound like an arbitrary observation, and maybe it is, but, to me, I really notice all of that stuff that I'm not doing.
I guess that that's it: short and bittersweet this time.
Pokémon: White Version
Recently, I was reminiscing about my old days playing pokémon. My ruby version's battery died last year, and I didn't feel like trying to compensate for the lack of time-based events. Fortunately, as an improvement over Generation II, the game's save data isn't dependent on the battery, so I figured that I wouldn't be at any real loss if I just replace the battery.
But then, I had a realization: Given that I have my own source of income now, I can just buy the new games, and the system on which to play them. So, I did. I've skipped Generation IV altogether and bought myself a Nintendo DSi and Pokémon White and Black versions. I've started playing White version first, because, after some checking (done before the purchase, actually), I found that White version has the White Forest, where some pokémon can be found, whereas the Black City (Black version's counterpart) doesn't have any.
Before this next part, you should realize that, now that I've got the games, I'm trying to minimize how much I look up. I want to re-experience that initial discovery feeling from back when I played the first games, in the ancient 1990s. :P
As I've played through, here are some things that I've noticed, in no particular order:
But then, I had a realization: Given that I have my own source of income now, I can just buy the new games, and the system on which to play them. So, I did. I've skipped Generation IV altogether and bought myself a Nintendo DSi and Pokémon White and Black versions. I've started playing White version first, because, after some checking (done before the purchase, actually), I found that White version has the White Forest, where some pokémon can be found, whereas the Black City (Black version's counterpart) doesn't have any.
Before this next part, you should realize that, now that I've got the games, I'm trying to minimize how much I look up. I want to re-experience that initial discovery feeling from back when I played the first games, in the ancient 1990s. :P
As I've played through, here are some things that I've noticed, in no particular order:
- Based on the intro, there's much more of a JRPG feel to this game. I mean, I know that Pokémon is from Japan, and that it's considered a VGRPG, but it never really felt like that, y'know?
- Boy has the beginning of the game ever changed. Instead of being eased into the idea that this is a world of Pokémon, and eventually being shown a battle and given a choice of Pokémon, it's just: Here are the starters, pick one. This doesn't affect my ability to play the game (by the way, I picked Snivy), but I imagine that it could be daunting to a new player (i.e., "What if I pick the wrong one?" stress). Also, I kind of liked the relaxed pace of the games before.
- There is a distinct lack of early Pokémon. I found Patrat and Pidove, and was like, "OK, I got Rattatta and Pidgey, but where's... anything else?" This game's version of Caterpie/Weedle/Wurmple isn't encountered until after the first gym, which is quite odd. In fact, it was only thanks to my dogged persistence that I found that I could catch Purrloin, too.
- Speaking of that, this game seems to be playing more to the gamist players. There's the really quick start, and the rarity of Pokémon early on, and there are even Heal Balls later on, which are useless if the newly-captured Pokémon is sent to the box (i.e., if you have a full team at the time of capture). It really seems to play to the type of player who catches the minimum number of Pokémon to beat the Elite Four.
- TMs can now be used like HMs, and there are at least 98 of them. What's up with that?
- Why do I have to navigate terrain in 3D? This isn't even a 3DS game. Also, I'm still moving on a grid, so is the experience really that improved?
- Why did Sewaddle take until level 20 to evolve? It's this version's Caterpie, so I was expecting level 10 at worst.
- Why does the Snivy line have hind legs? It's not like there haven't been snake Pokémon before.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Goodbye LEGO Universe, Hello Again Minecraft
So, I gave up Minecraft for NaNoWriMo, and then I stayed away from it up until now because LEGO Universe was ending in just two months. Well, those two months are up. I tried connecting to the servers, but couldn't, with text explaining why. So now I can get back to Minecraft (and also TF2). I think that the biggest challenge will be remembering what I was going to do. I remember what I was planning overall, but I'm not sure at what step I was. For instance, I was working on a runway, but I went over to my other base. I may have been planning to work on my dry dock. There's only one thing that I know for sure: I need more iron!
Sudden Short Story 25
One man lay upon the battlefield, alive yet bleeding. Around him were the slain bodies of countless men and angels. In his right hand he gripped his sword, its blade nearly three feet in length and its pommel featuring what appeared to be a snow globe, which had been vigorously stirred from the melee. He propped himself up on his left arm, for over him stood an angel with a sword of its own.
"Congratulations," said the angel, "You are the last human left alive. Trust when I say that it will be of little comfort where you are going."
"I rather doubt that," said the human, managing a smirk despite the pain. "Tell me, angel, what do they call you?"
"I am called Alphael."
"Well, that seems appropriate, since you'll be the first to die."
"I see that your sin is vainglory, for that while you managed to slay many of us with that ridiculous sword of yours, you are mortally wounded, and your comrades lay dead. Prepare to die."
The man muttered a name and, though the angel could not hear it, it somehow sent chills through him.
"What?" he asked.
"I said that this sword, secreted from myth and history alike, the key to the ultimate plan, has a name. I know the secret that even you have forgotten, for you, angels, are jotun, and this," he said, raising his sword, "is Fimbulvintersverð!" The jotun prepared to strike, but the human swiftly smashed the pommel against a rock, and from it sprang forth the most bitter cold that Midgard has ever known.
The winged jotun attempted to fly away, but the cold and wind made it impossible. In a panicked attempt, he dropped his sword, but he may as well have picked up a boulder for all the good that it did him. The cold bit so bitterly that all that he could do was wrap his wings around himself as he huddled into a ball for what little warmth he could get.
"It was Loki who devised the plan. Let you go long enough, and you'd start to believe your own lies. Eventually, you would fulfill your own prophecies, which included raising the dead to fight amongst the living." Winter spread past the horizon, and kept going. "What could you have done more foolish? Now, they have all died warriors' deaths! The Aesir's army could not be any stronger, and it's all thanks to the jotun. There is only one thing left to do now." And with a gut-wrenching leap, the last man alive on Midgard leapt through the air with the last of his strength, felling the now-frail Alphael in one blow. And there he died, too, though he was soon taken to Fólkvangr.
"Congratulations," said the angel, "You are the last human left alive. Trust when I say that it will be of little comfort where you are going."
"I rather doubt that," said the human, managing a smirk despite the pain. "Tell me, angel, what do they call you?"
"I am called Alphael."
"Well, that seems appropriate, since you'll be the first to die."
"I see that your sin is vainglory, for that while you managed to slay many of us with that ridiculous sword of yours, you are mortally wounded, and your comrades lay dead. Prepare to die."
The man muttered a name and, though the angel could not hear it, it somehow sent chills through him.
"What?" he asked.
"I said that this sword, secreted from myth and history alike, the key to the ultimate plan, has a name. I know the secret that even you have forgotten, for you, angels, are jotun, and this," he said, raising his sword, "is Fimbulvintersverð!" The jotun prepared to strike, but the human swiftly smashed the pommel against a rock, and from it sprang forth the most bitter cold that Midgard has ever known.
The winged jotun attempted to fly away, but the cold and wind made it impossible. In a panicked attempt, he dropped his sword, but he may as well have picked up a boulder for all the good that it did him. The cold bit so bitterly that all that he could do was wrap his wings around himself as he huddled into a ball for what little warmth he could get.
"It was Loki who devised the plan. Let you go long enough, and you'd start to believe your own lies. Eventually, you would fulfill your own prophecies, which included raising the dead to fight amongst the living." Winter spread past the horizon, and kept going. "What could you have done more foolish? Now, they have all died warriors' deaths! The Aesir's army could not be any stronger, and it's all thanks to the jotun. There is only one thing left to do now." And with a gut-wrenching leap, the last man alive on Midgard leapt through the air with the last of his strength, felling the now-frail Alphael in one blow. And there he died, too, though he was soon taken to Fólkvangr.
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