The noob followed excitedly. The promise of getting his hands dirty, to tinker, made him a little ball of energy. And energy was the missing ingredient. In the warehouse he'd sighted lots of mechanical components, sure, and that made sense – no point in using anything too complicated when even the simplest tech was disallowed. But electronics were his first love and the rare sample of circuit boards and electronic components had given him hope. To use them, however, would require power and he hadn't seen any sign of that in the haul from today.
The tall, spindly figure of Isaac walked ahead, hunched low. The corridor was low and thin and seemed to have a slight negative gradient. Its dark mud walls were chipped and decrepit looking, giving a sense of disuse. At the end lay a small cul-de-sac, like a door-less walk-in closet. Around the edges were dusty shelves at all heights. On those shelves were dust covered...somethings.
The noob raced into the space without being invited and immediately inspected the mechanical gizmos of gears, of levers and pullys and screws, all made of a pulp-like substance, and he inspected what looked like square-shaped clocks. His eyes were wide, darting erratically.
'Here's ze vun I have been vorking on,' said Isaac, picking up an object with weights on one side, and a latch on the other. He blew the dust off.
Thoughts of Archimedes and mathematical equations rushed through the noob's mind. 'A scale?' he said. 'What do you need to weigh?'
'Ze O.L.'s vant to start veighing everysing zat comes in, so zey can make sure ve are not touching it for ourselves, ya?' Isaac's accent was Joe-like: thick and comical.
'Ah,' said the noob, grinning. 'And you need a way to create an unbalanced test, tip the scales so that you can keep some of this stuff for yourself.'
'Ya...' Isaac said disinterestedly. He looked at the noob deeply. 'But I sink zere is another vay. A better vay. Ya?'
The noob thought for a moment. How else could you ensure no one knew you'd taken something? He'd watched enough organised crime movies to have some sense of how to be sneaky. Not that he'd ever get into anything illegal, it was just intellectually stimulating to think about how to commit the perfect crime, and how to use technology, of course, to avoid detection and capture. From the comfort of his home it was all very exciting. His mind was filled with ideas, with thoughts, with memories of how one could rig the scales and come out on top. Then Isaac's smile hit him.
'You wouldn't need to change the scales,' said the noob, 'you'd just make sure to weigh it after you took your share.'
'Exactly,' said Isaac, his eyebrows raising.
'Is that why these are all covered with dust? You gave up because you don't need to create anything?' As soon as he said the words he felt saddened. Was this all there was? A few shelves of discarded stuff? Not nearly enough to do anything fun with. Perhaps it wasn't going to be so exciting after all.
'Yes and no,' said Isaac. He had a strange look about him.
The noob took another look at the shelves. Perhaps he'd missed something.
'I just needed to be sure,' said Isaac.
'Of the idea?' said the noob.
'Of you.' As he said the words, Isaac kicked at something below the bottom shelf. A low rumble emanated from the walls. It was joined by other noises and a thin vertical sliver of light in the middle of the enclave. The light widened and soon the noob realised the sides were opening up. He shielded his eyes from the brightness.
Then the noise stopped and an organic smell took its place.
The noob blinked a few times and stepped inside the opening. He was greeted with the most colourful collection of moving objects imaginable. The massive space was nominally separated into sections, each colour-coded. Along every wall were desks covered with machines of all types, of blinking lights and components and tools. Despite being over stimulated, quick flashes of understanding banged into his mind. With each blink the noob saw more, grokked more. There were computer motherboards, robotic arms, even a Coke vending machine.
Ahhh yeah, you got me, there wasn't really a vending machine. I just thought maybe I'd get some product placement into this episode. Some C.A.$.H., know what I'm sayin'? Do you think I should ask for the money now, or when this thing gets really big? I do like Coke™, it is so refreshing (I'll insert something better later, based on the new slogan). It's almost as good as Tim Tams™. Ooh, I have to get some money from Arnott's too! This could be quite lucrative.
Along with product placement, I've also made this scene quite cinematic. A normal workshop isn't going to be anywhere near as flashy and colourful, since engineers are more interested in breaking things (oh and sometimes in making stuff too!), not in prettying them up. But hey, just go with me on this. Oh, and I'm not going to explain every detail of what's in this room; I'm not Isaac and I'm definitely not the noob, so my interest lies elsewhere. I'm more a big picture person. I like to delegate, to let others focus on the small details like blah blah blah <fill in the blanks here please, Margaret>.
'Velcome to ze Play Pen.'
Filling the centre of the room, set back in a large enclave of its own, with long tentacled arms moving majestically, with purple rubbery skin surrounding its massive bulk, with a head the size of a bus and eyes the shape of sideways crescent moons, sat a Kaplongji. I know what you're thinking: what colour are its eyes? Focus! I'll get to that, don't worry.
It filled the centre of the room, massive, brown, wet, and shaped like a tur...a turrr...like a tear. That's it, just like a tear. Which may share some similarities with another shape that happens to more commonly be affixed by the aforementioned adjectives. This was the source of the strange smell from outside the room, and one that didn't improve on closer inspection.
A darker and stronger mud-based cubic structure surrounded the brown smelly tear like scaffolding and which provided, the noob surmised, a way to keep the blob in place.
Perhaps now is a good time to let Isaac explain what the hide-the-sausage a Kaplongji is.
'Isn't she beautiful?' said Isaac.
'What...is it?' said the noob, a little repelled.
'She is ze only vay ve could do any of zis.'
Isaac lead the noob to a box in front with electrical cables popping out from all sides.
'She is a kind of inverter,' said Isaac, 'but instead of converting DC to AC, she converts PAC to AC.'
'PAC?' asked the noob.
'Potential Alternating Current.'
The noob kept up his confused look. In response, Isaac took a deep breath as if he was about to start a long story.
'Ya. You see, back on earth, I vas sitting on a mountain vun day, looking out at nature, listenink to its beauty and vonder*. Ven I pressed down viv my hand it caused a few small pebbles to slip down ze slope. But vun remained, a small rock, teetering on ze edge. It looked as if it didn't know whether to stay or fall. The potential vas zere for both outcomes. I sought immediately, of course, of potential energy and vondered if it could be used to generate power.'
*And you thought all engineers were sick, twisted, and only enjoyed the sight of the sun through a telescope in the comfort of a small, dank room. Some of them actually want to be outdoors. Just don't get too close.
'Of course,' said the noob.
'I did not believe it vould vork vith rocks,' continued Isaac, 'and so I tried a dog.'
'A dog?' said the noob, shocked.
'Ya. I needed to find ze animal where ze potential for eizer outcome vas identical, vere it could just as easily fall as remain safe on ze cliff top.'
Hmm, maybe some of them are sick and twisted. *embarrassed face*
'And a cat wouldn't work since you wouldn't know if it was alive or dead,' said the noob.
A cold whistle emanated from Isaac's throat as he laughed. It sent shrills through me but the noob was still smiling broadly at his own joke (if you can call it that).
'Ya, a little of ze physics humour zere,' said Isaac. 'Zat is good. I did not have a chance to fully test ze dog before I vas transported here. But I kept sinking about it and realised you didn't need ze dog to be on a cliff, you only needed it to sthink it vas on a cliff. You see, ze potential vould still be zere in its mind. But fvere vould I find a dog here?'
The noob nodded with eyes down, deep in thought.
'Zen I thought you don't need a dog,' continued Isaac. 'You just need somesing teetering on ze edge, with ze possibility of alternately moving vun vay or ze other, vith ze potential, you see. But if zat vas ze case then it could vork wisout zat material being on ze cliff, just like ze dog. As long as she had been in zat situation before, you could trick her into generating ze potential energy. So I picked ze thing zat is most here: mud.'
'Ohhhh,' said the noob, visibly relieved. 'It's just mud.'
He stood and gaped, marvelling at the the sedentary nature of the big pile of stinking mud. Part of him expected it to be shaking, vibrating with potential. He knew it didn't make sense scientifically, but it would somehow seem more fitting.
Walking further around the bulk, it was only now the full scale became clear. The back end of the room was cut out, with the Kaplongji stretching into it at least five times its length, hidden from view like an iceberg...except horizontal...and made completely of mud.
'Does it have to be this big?' asked the noob. 'How long will it last?'
'Even a small clump of mud can provide power forever. It vill just be a tiny amount. If you vant to draw more at vunce, it has to be bigger. Like zis.' He waved his hand at the Kaplongji and smiled.
Only now did the noob look around the rest of the room. His mind was buzzing and he felt dizzy from all the questions coming into his mind, so he shot them out machine-gun style:
- 'So this is your power source! How many watts can you pull?'
- 'What's this? How does it work?' x 10
- 'How long have you been doing this?'
- 'How do you make all these components? Surely there aren't any fabs on this planet?'
To the last question Isaac said something quite interesting, so I'll actually show you his response:
'Ve don't create. Ve just scavenge like vultures for vot is zere.'
The noob creased his brow. 'Then where does it come from?' He had a number of scenarios in his head, from space traders to an extinct ancient civilisation, and back to space traders (he was quite the fan of Elite-like games). The answer turned out to be much simpler, and much less interesting than that.
'Ven ze vormholes open up,' said Isaac, 'and humans step into zis vorld, it is not just zere clorshs zey bring vit zem. Sometimes zey are near a computer, or a radio, or a lathse, or,...'
Ah yes, engineers. They like to be, erm, detailed and explicit in their responses. The key is to not get them started. Rather than just give a few examples, Isaac seemed to feel the need to enumerate every conceivable object that could transgress the wormhole. The noob lapped it all up, his gaze transfixed. When the list ended - and surely three or four days passed - he was ready for another barrage of questions.
...which I won't repeat here since you are tired and need your rest. But worry nary, for a later question seemed to zip around space-time and connect quite nicely to the topic at hand:
'It must be nice being here, safe in this place,' said the noob. He looked around the room.
'Ya,' said Isaac.
'Did you come here to the Rat's Nest straight away? As soon as you moved through the wormhole?'
'No,' said Isaac, looking down. He was always looking down, due to his stature, but after a while you got to know the nuance of looking down versus looking down. 'I fell in viv anothser crowd...humans... I come out in a bad part of ze city, and zey got to me before the O.L.'s. Zey dealt with Reds, and even Blues sometimes, but always drugs. They'd camp out around ze dirtier parts of ze city, vaiting for a vormhole to open, and for ze shocked people to valk through. Zey'd try to get ze men addicted on Reds, and ze vomen...'
Isaac coughed, almost choking. The noob was very good at listening, but he soon realised that this was the part of the conversation where he should speak.
'What do Reds do?' he asked.
Isaac let out a strange sound. If it was anyone else you'd call it a small chuckle, but with him, who knows?
'Zey don't do anysing good,' he said. 'Zey only make you vant zem more. Your physical health just vittles away, your vill and self-respect are gone in less zan a moment. It is pure addiction in a pill.'
The noob paused, but asked the question anyway: 'Did you get hooked on them?'
Isaac looked up a fraction, his mood lightening an even smaller fraction (say 1⁄4 versus 2⁄9)
'No. I vas able to avoid because I vas able to help zem. I fixed a vatch zey vere using for zere coordinations. Zen zey had me wait for wormhole activity and take anysing important before ze O.L.'s. A many great number of items come through, but zey are all gone now.'
He said the last part sadly, like reminiscing over a lost pet.
'The only sthing zat remains,' he continued, 'I took from zem. I needed somesing to remember...it all. To remember ze pain.'
Isaac pulled out an old looking fob watch. The noob's eyes opened wide.
'That's...'
Do you know which watch we're talking about? Oh come on, you're smarter than that. It wasn't that long ago.
'Where did you get it?' said the noob.
'Zey vere using it. Do you know of her?'
'It's my grandfather's.'
'Are you certain? Zere are many vatches who look ze same.'
'Ya, I mean yes. Look, it still has the engraving from my grandmother.'
Etched onto the back of the watch, in a circular cursive script, were the words All My Heart, All My Love, Always.
'Zat is quite a coincidence,' said Isaac.
'Is it?' said the noob. 'When did you first see the watch?'
'Many months ago, now,' said Isaac.
Yeah, yeah, convert earth months to erm alien planet months. Or something. What do I care?
'Hm, then it couldn't have been...' said the noob. He pondered in silence, as both *cough* men were wrapped up in their own thoughts.
'Do they still do that?' said the noob. 'Do they lie in wait and steal anything that exits the wormholes?'
'Sometimes. In low risk areas.'
The noob thought back to where he came through, inside a building, in an office of sorts. That would explain the lack of organised crime stationed nearby. This line of thought did lead to another question:
'These wormholes...is it completely random where they open up?'
'It is interesting zat you should ask,' said Isaac.
Ridley shoved Joe out the way. 'Outta my way,' he said, redundantly.
Joe stood behind the other side of the front archway, in the space where a door should be, looking out at the distant road. He barely made out the white dot of Adam Douglas in his bright suit. The dot shrank to half its size (was he falling to his knees?). Joe swore he could hear a loud moan, like a child begging for a toy or for Tim Tams™.
$$$ Cha-ching $$$
'Hey look, it's another Cowboy!' said Ridley, looking at the head of the distant carriage.
'Cowboy?' said Joe.
'That's the name I give to those phase-shifting things.'
'Why do I care what you call them?'
'Just thought you might need to refer to them at some point in the future. In case it comes up.'
'Unlikely,' breathed Joe.
The carriage took off and two small specks shifted side to side. It took a moment for Joe to realise that they were heading toward the warehouse. Once inside, Connie introduced the new worker to everyone.
'This is The New Guy.* He'll be staying with us.'
*I don't quite remember his name. I'm much better with faces. And his face was very unmemorable. That's something I do remember! See, I'm not totally useless Ms Collythworpe.
The New Guy scrunched up his face and gave her a pfft for good measure.
'Hi The New Guy,' said Anne, smiling.
This didn't elicit much of a response in The New Guy, who instead walked off. The others were all a bit embarrassed, the way a group is when someone does something out of the ordinary and leaves them to pick up the pieces.
'Nice guy,' said Ridley.
'Give him time,' said Connie. Then, to the twins she whispered: 'Keep an eye on him. I've got a bad feeling.'
They saluted her with a grin and wandered off in the general direction of The New Guy's warm path. Meanwhile, Isaac and the noob slipped off without anyone really noticing. Who cares what the noob does, anyway?
Joe noticed a twinkle in Connie's eyes. At that moment he wanted to know more, to understand why she was doing all this: taking in humans, protecting them. It felt almost like a half-way house; you were given some semblance of freedom, but were still, ultimately, on a leash, and to the population at large you were nothing but a pariah. Maybe she was doing it because she simply liked to help people, he thought. Nah, there was something else going on there. He wasn't brave enough to find out just yet.
Anne, too, was looking; but not at Connie. With a flat expression she was watching the watcher.
The rest of the day was punctuated by infrequent bursts of angst by The New Guy. Every interaction he had with others was fuelled by frustration. He seemed to be testing them. In response, they were all, generally, on their best behaviour. OK, so Ridley may have jived a few times, jabbing him with “wit” and “sarcasm”. In a friendly way, you understand. But that was nothing. It's only workplace bullying when you're the victim!
Connie was in the warehouse talking to The Tank about changing some of the ways they were organising the inventory. Apparently they were due another audit. The twins would be back soon with a new cache of requisitioned tech.
Joe sat against one of the large walls, watching absently, wishing he was quenching his thirst with a nice cold can of Coke.
 |
| Figure 7-1: Coke advert |
Or was he thinking about something else? It had been an incredible journey and a lot to take in. Adjusting to the new surrounds would be enough to induce awe and wonder in even the coldest heart.
'It's nothing special,' he said quietly.
Err, what?
'The...surrounds, as you put it. You're certainly no Douglas Adams.'
You mean Adam M Douglas? Why would you even...
'You know who I mean,' interrupted Joe.
Well...sure...but in my defence, no one's a Douglas Adams. He was an incred-
'At least add in some interesting elements,' said Joe. 'Maybe play with the universal constants and see what comes up? You could even add a statist/libertarian bent and suggest that they've opened up the market, deregulated the laws of physics. Then, depending on the demands of the marketplace, natural attrition would take care of the bad laws.'
OK. That sounds interesting. What else?
'Make everything a bit...larger. Look at Babylon 5, with its races filled with history, with culture, with such strong differences. It's a big wide galaxy out there and you're limiting yourself to one small city on one insignificant planet.'
Not bad for someone who supposedly doesn't like science fiction, hey?
'Fine. I'm not here to give you ideas. I'm just saying that so far, at least for what I've been privy to, things have been a bit...mundane?'
Sorry?
'I don't need an apology. You can think of anything in the world - or not the world, har de har - yet you come up with a small story about a few friends on some not-so-alien planet with superficial differences, where they're constantly - and almost entirely - surrounded by other humans. It's like you're making a movie with a tiny budget, or you're trying to appeal to the lowest common denominator.'
Right.
Well.
I might just stand over there, then.
'No need to moan. I should know.'
I'm not.
Joe had gone back to watching Connie, clearly deciding that a conversation with me was a bad use of his spare time. Probably right. Instead, he sat back and felt the heat emanate from the thick mud wall.
'Hi,' said a warm voice.
Anne stood over Joe, sharing her attention between him and Connie. 'How are you getting on?'
'Good,' he said, without much enthusiasm.
'Are you OK doing this work? The Tank told me that it's similar to what you did back on Earth.' She sat, giving Joe her full attention.
'Yeah,' he said, with a little chuckle to himself. He watched as Connie, in the distance, pulled out a large box and pointed inside.
'What's funny?' said Anne.
'Nothing,' said Joe. He could tell that he wasn't being overly nice. He wasn't sure why.
Anne looked at him, then stared straight. 'What do you think of Connie?'
'She seems OK. Hey, why do you think she cares so much about this place?' He finally looked over at Anne.
'She's pretty quiet about that part of her life. I've been able to work out that she arrived here with a daughter. I'm not sure how old she was, but something happened to her. I haven't pushed it because I'd rather not know exactly.'
'I understand,' he said, nodding. Just listening to Anne made him calm, relaxed from a tension he didn't realise he had. This relaxation came at a cost – it meant he was more self-conscious and couldn't think of anything more to say.
'I sometimes wonder if that's why we get along so well,' said Anne, saving him.
He watched and admired her lips as she spoke. No, he thought, uh uh. Don't do this.
'She's kind of a surrogate mother for me,' said Anne. 'Not that she's that old. Do you think she's too old?'
Joe smiled at Anne, then looked down at his legs. 'Too old for what?'
'I don't know. Anything.'
This was the first time he felt a sense of vulnerability in Anne and it was intoxicating. He wanted to say that he didn't really care how old Connie was, he wasn't interested; but something stopped him. Maybe she provided a convenient barrier, a way of preventing himself from doing something stupid without having to say anything. So instead, he said nothing.
Anne blinked impassively, patiently waiting for a response.
'Nice spot you got here,' said a third voice.
They both looked up to see a smiling Ridley. He sat down next to Anne, relaxing back against the wall.
'Yep,' he said, looking out at the hard-at-work pair of The Tank and Connie, 'nice spot.'
Joe gave him a look. It wasn't a nice look. But on the plus side it was an irrelevant look, since Ridley didn't notice.
'Hi Ridley,' said Anne.
'Hi Anne,' said Ridley, in a smooth, relaxed, confident tone. 'You know, you'd look even better if you grew your hair long.'
'Err, what?' said Anne.
Ridley was trying to neg. I think. Just really badly. So he quickly changed tack.
'Listen, I need your advice on something. It's very important and I need a woman's perspective.'
Anne turned her whole body to Ridley. 'What is it?'
'We were having a debate earlier and I think your answer could change my life. You see, I've always brushed my teeth before I flossed. But then a friend of mine was saying that you should floss first. Which do you think works best?'
Joe got up and left. It wasn't just the turn that did it. He was irritated by the use of standard pick-up artist tricks, unchanged for the conditions of another planet. No, that wasn't true. The irritating part was that Anne would fall for it.
The noob picked up the piece of metal. It was flat with grooves cut out, just the right size for his fingers to sit inside.
'Does it work on yourself?' he said. 'Or only others?'
'Ya,' said Isaac, 'try it.'
The noob didn't need further encouragement. He pointed the metal to his chest and flicked the small lever near his index finger. The world very quickly rotated, the floor becoming almost vertical. Then a pain hit his left shoulder. He realised he was lying on his side and slowly got up, not completely trusting his legs.
'Wow, that was weird,' said the noob. He breathed in and out deeply. 'And awesome!'
Isaac smiled. 'Tell me about ze others you are with. Zey are your friends?'
'Yes,' said the noob. 'Definitely friends. Ridley kind of looks up to me. It's a little sad. And Joe and I have this mutual respect thing going on.'
'I hear zem making fun of you ven you arrived.'
The noob looked around, finally latching on to something in his mind. 'No, that was just banter. You know, when men get together we like to make fun of each other. It's a bonding exercise.' He seemed happy with his response.
'Zey can be trusted zen?'
'So how does this thing work?' said the noob, feeling the metal in his hand.
'It attacks ze central nervous system. Ze imbalance does not last very long, but perhaps it is enough to affect an escape in a vorst case scenario, ya? So zey could be trusted?'
'Yeah...' said the noob, absently. He then added a more resolute 'Yeah!' before turning attention back to the device.
Isaac placed the response into the sceptical portion of his brain (the largest part).
'What's the range like?' said the noob, holding the weapon at arms length from himself and pressing the trigger again. He stumbled a little this time before the floor came rushing closer. He beamed like a kid in an edible toy store. Not sure why you'd want to eat a toy store, but who am I to stamp on opportunistic capitalism and keen entrepreneurial spirit?
'I haven't had a good chance to test,' said Isaac. 'Anne vas not too keen on falling down so often. Ze energy dissipates a little more than ze inverse square law, so it vould have to be close range.'
The noob held the metal to his head. 'See how long I can stan-' He was lying on his side, dazed and smiling.
'Not very long,' said Isaac.
The noob was about to repeat the experiment and attempt a new record when he quickly dropped the device to the ground, rubbing his fingers.
'Ah,' said Isaac, 'she still overheats with ze minimal shielding. I am vaiting to find something with better characterishztics.'
'What happens if you keep firing after it overheats?' said the noob. His mind was ticking over. If you're a pacifist, you may not like the general direction of his thoughts.
'Ve should return to ze matter conduit,' said Isaac, turning toward another bench with a serious expression.
The noob didn't quite catch the nuance in Isaac's voice, but didn't really mind the change of topic since the matter conduit was what he wanted to learn the most about.
The more important characters were making headway in the warehouse re-organisation, in preparation of the audit. They got into a rhythm and pretty soon things were ticking along nicely. They'd even improved processes and manufactured efficiencies that would lead to a greater synergistic partnership between themselves and the organi- *cough* Sorry about that. I've been trying to learn a new language and whenever looking for a course I go for either the cheapest or the most expensive, since I'm after value for money. That left me with a one-nighter on the Klingon language and culture or an MBA. You can probably guess my (expensive) choice. Besides, jlH ghaj jen Sov vo' tlthlngan p'Tok.
waaaaaaaaawaaa waaa
Wawaaaaaaaaa
The sound of a theremin waa'd its way into the minds of all inhabitants of the Rat's Nest. They were frozen to the spot in silence. Joe tingled - it felt like a feather lightly caressing the back of his neck. The only sound left was the distant clop of rushed footsteps.
Connie raced through the warehouse and out the archway.
The boys looked at each other.
The twins raced through the warehouse and out a different archway.
The boys looked at each other.
Anne raced through the warehouse, stopping long enough to say, 'Come on!'
The boys looked at each other (which was getting quite tiresome).
Anne continued: 'It's early. The auditor is early.' She started to rush off before adding: 'And it's an O.L.!'
Episode VII is dedicated to Coke™ and Tim Tams™ (hopefully!).
Find episode VIII here.
© 2013 Ben Safta
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Australia License
