December 23, 1989. 7:45 AM. The Saturday before Christmas.
The mall is already packed, meaning one of the big anchor stores opened at 6:00 or something. I get to the store and raise the gate just enough to get into the store. Four customers duck under the gate before I can start lowering it again.
“We don’t open until 8:00,” I say.
Holding up a game, one of the customers asks, “Have you got this for the Commodore 64?”
“We aren’t open yet,” I repeat. “You can come back in at 8:00.”
Three of the customers leave. The C-64 guy is still holding the Atari game, ignoring me and looking on the PC compatible section.
“We aren’t open yet,” I say in my best I’m-being-patient-because-you’re-a-moron voice. I use that voice a lot during the Christmas sales season. “You can’t stay in store right now.”
“Huh?” the guy says, looking up.
“Leave. Now.” The store hasn’t even opened and I’m already out of patience.
The C-64 guy slips the Atari game onto the PC shelf. “All you had to do was say so. No need to be rude. You’re not the only software store in the mall, you know.”
“Yeah. There’s a Babbage's at the bottom of those stairs over there,” I say, pointing. “Their sales guy is just showing up. If you hurry, maybe you can duck under his gate and see how he reacts.”
I slam the gate shut and finally start getting everything ready to open the store.
Joy to the world.
8:25 AM
I land my first babysitting job of the season when a mother instructs her two boys to stay in the store and play games until she’s finished. The boys are maybe 11 and nine.
Looking across the store at me, she says, “Keep an eye on them, for me. They aren’t allowed to wander around the mall by themselves.” Then she’s gone, reabsorbed by the amorphous multi-celled blob known as Christmas shoppers.
She goes right to the top of my Mother of the Year list. Competition for the top spot had been tough this season, but I’m confident this display of maternal instinct will prove well nigh unbeatable.
I finish with the customer I was assisting and look for the two boys. Oh, bliss, They’ve decided to be helpful! They’ve taken all of the software in the Amiga section and scattered it on the floor. I tell them to leave the software alone.
The nine year old looks to the 11 year old. The 11 year old says, “We’re bored.”
“Not my problem,” I tell them.
“Mom told us to stay here and play games but you don’t have any games to play!” he accuses.
I start putting the Amiga shelf back together again. “Correct.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing,” I tell him.
“When she gets back, I’m going to tell my mom!” he threatens.
I bend down, look him directly in the eyes and hiss “So am I.”
I don’t have any more trouble from the two boys.
Joy to the world.
9:40 AM
The first complainer shows up. He's right on schedule.
“It took me twenty-five minutes to find a parking place,” he snarls at me.
I don’t say anything. Besides, he probably doesn’t want to hear that I’m required to park half a mile away from the mall so more spaces will be available for the customers.
“And that was after I spent 30 minutes crawling through the traffic just to get here!”
I’ve had to fight that traffic for the last seven days. I doubt he’s interested.
“All just to pick up this damned game for my kid,” he waves something for a PC compatible around.
I know the game and ask, “Do you have a VGA card in your computer?”
“A what?”
“A VGA graphics card,” I repeat. “The game requires a VGA graphics card to run.”
“How the hell should I know?” He’s back to snarling.
“If you could tell me what kind of computer you have I-“
“It’s an IBM,” he says.
“Actually made by IBM?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he answers.
“If you can tell me what model it is, maybe I can help you figure out if you’ve got a VGA card,” I tell him. It looks like I’m starting to get him calmed down.
“I know that! It’s a PC, Jr.”
Crap. I’m about to have the nothing-you-actually-want-will-run-on-a-PC-Jr. conversation.
Joy to the world.
10:15 AM
The Mother of the Year returns. I’m busy juggling questions from four different customers and don’t notice her return until she plants herself right in front of me.
“My boys tell me you didn’t let them play any games!” she says.
I signal the customer I was returning to that I’ll be just a minute. He nods sympathetically.
“We don’t have any machines set up in this store,” I tell her.
“You could have set one up!” she demands.
Snap!
“And you could have taken them with you,” I retort, “or left them at home! I am not a babysitter nor is it my job to entertain your children. That, madam, is your job. Now, take your children and leave my store!”
Now the Mother of the Year is truly furious. Like I care.
“I’m going to file a complaint with your manager!” she threatens.
“Go ahead!” I hiss back. What the hell, hissing worked on her boys, maybe it will work on her, too. "She hates people who treat us like babysitters as much as I do!"
“Hmph! Well, I can tell you we’ll never shop in this store again!” she says.
Joy to the world!
11:00 AM
Support finally arrives in the person of my co-worker, Bob. Thank God! I've got to piss like you wouldn't believe.
"Been busy?" he asks.
Our store is all of 500 square feet. There are at least two dozen customers in the store. It took Bob half a minute to get from the store entrance to the register at the back of the store. And he has to ask if it's been busy?
"Yes," I say. "Hurry up and sign in so I can use the can!"
Bob laughs. I'll give him that one. I'd have laughed in his place, too. It takes all of 15 seconds to sign in and grab a name tag. It only takes 10 seconds for a customer to approach me. She's holding at least half a dozen different computer games and looks completely confused. A typical customer, in other words.
She holds out all of the games, "Which of these would be a good game for a 13 year old boy?"
Feeling as if my eyeballs are starting to float, I take a look at what she's got. The Bard's Tale. M.U.L.E. Gauntlet. Skate or Die. California Games.
"Any of those would be fine," I answer and start edging toward the back office.
She's a pro, though, and not going to be deterred by my evasion. "But which one would be best?"
I'm tempted to just tell her to get M.U.L.E. But just because I think it's the best computer game ever designed doesn't mean the boy she's buying for will agree.
"What are some other games he likes to play?" I ask, cursing myself for taking my job more seriously than my bladder.
"I don't know," she answers. "It's for my nephew. My sister said he liked computer games and to get him one."
Uh oh, I'm stuck with a customer who's even more ignorant than normal! Experience has taught me what to do now, but I'm going to be stuck with this one customer for a while.
"But you're sure he has a Commodore 64?" I ask, positive she will be anything but sure.
"A what?" she asks.
"His computer. Is it a Commodore 64?"
"I don't know. My sister just said they had a computer. Does it matter?"
"Yes. If the game isn't for the right computer it won't work," I tell her, just as I've told countless other clueless customers this season.
I'm amazed my bladder has exploded yet. I also know what's coming next.
"That's stupid," she tells me. "Why would people make computers that are different like that?"
"I'd suggest you call your sister and find out what kind of computer they have. Then we should be able to help you pick the right game for your nephew," I say, starting to turn away. But she's not done quite yet.
"Can I use your phone to call her?" she asks.
We're not supposed to do that but I figure I can run back to the can while she's on the phone. "Sure."
I hand her the phone, dial the number, make sure it's ringing and then head for the can.
"Hi, Ellen, it's Sarah," she says. "I've got a sales guy who has some questions for you!"
Smiling, she holds the phone out to me.
Joy to the world.
11:18 AM
I finally get to the can.
Joy to the world.
12:30 PM
Lunch. I get an entire 30 minutes during which I don't have to answer any questions for any customers! I find the shortest line in the food court and wait to order my lunch.
Joy to the world.
12:57 PM
I finally get my lunch and have a whole three minutes before I'm due back at the store. I get to grab bites in between customers!
Joy to the world.
1:53 PM
I finally finish my lunch. Cold fries suck.
Joy to the world.
4:30 PM
There are three of us working the store now; Bob, Mike and me. But Mike's seasonal help so he doesn't really count. Unless saying, "Let me ask Henry" or "I'll ask Bob" counts as help.
The afternoon has been a lot like the morning. I've had the drunk, the shoplifter (complete with parents who don't believe their angel is a thief), the father who simply watched as his three children totally wrecked the Apple shelves (a strong candidate for my new Father of the Year contest) and the usual asortment of complainers.
But now my shift is over. I get to leave!
Joy to the world!
5:15 PM
After a 10 minute walk to my car, I find traffic is pretty light. It only takes me 35 minutes to make the 13 minute drive home. I stagger into the apartment and am greeted by my wife and the cats.
"Tough day?" Audrey asks.
"About like normal," I respond.
Audrey smiles, "I thought so. I got beer."
Joy to the world!
Afterword
Every customer mentioned in this story was real, though they probably didn't all hit on the same day. Rest assured there were other idiots who filled in for them. The Christmas of 1989 was the last one during which I worked in retail. It was also the last time I entered a mall at the height of the Christmas sales season.
Now that really is joy to the world!
Monday, December 22, 2008
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Diary of a Mad Astronaut
This is my entry in Bruce Bethke's Friday Challenge writing contest, based on an alternate universe setting.
October 10, 2010
At least that’s what they say the date is. Who knows whether they’re telling the truth or not? It seems about right, but that’s the only part of this that does.
Take this lap top they have me using to keep my journal. The tech guy told me this little box has a computer in it. I just laughed at him. There’s no way you could fit any tubes inside something this small! I think I offended him by laughing because next thing you know he’s telling me how much more powerful it is than the autopilot in my lander. I laughed again and he got even madder and gave me a demonstration. By the time he finished, my mouth must have been hanging open because he had a smug look on his face as he left. When I go back, this lap top thing is definitely going with me!
But I’m getting ahead of myself. They want me to keep a journal, no doubt so they can read it and figure out what I whether I’ve really lost my memory or not. Too bad I’m not writing in English. An old college girlfriend was a huge Lord of the Rings fan. Figuring it would help me score, I learned how to write love notes to her in elvish. (Yes, it worked.) Took some finagling, but I worked out to write elvish using a standard keyboard. I should be long gone before they can figure this out. And if I get the lap top out with me, I can translate it before landing.
I’ve been here for a week, locked up in some building somewhere on Edwards Air Force Base. I’ve managed to figure out what happened, but the idiots in this universe won’t believe me. Yes, this universe. I don’t know how I hopped to another universe, but it’s obvious I did. But the IIC (Idiots In Charge) here keep insisting there’s only one universe. How can these people be so advanced in some things, like this lap top, and so backward in others?
I’m tired. Sleep now, write more later.
October 11, 2010
Yep, they tried to read my journal. Wanted to know what language it was written in. I just played dumb and insisted it was English. Then they wanted to know what it said. I told them it said I hoped the good fairies would come and take me away. One of them made some crack about San Francisco that the others thought was funny. I have no idea why. So now they either think I’m crazy or lying. I’m hoping for crazy.
Time to catch up on the first week after I landed. First, their cars still use wheels! Where are the flying cars? The hover trucks? They say they’ve got hovercraft but they aren’t all that common. Damn, getting ahead of myself again. Okay, I’m just going to try to do this in order.
I woke up on the Galileo nine days ago. I was the only one who woke up. The rest of the crew were dead. Looks like their cryo capsules failed for some reason. I got pulled out of cryosleep because the autopilot couldn’t pick up any of the space markers that were supposed to guide it back to earth. I had to eyeball it until we were close enough for the mass detector to pick earth. With that info, the autopilot pulled the ship into orbit at the L-1 point.
I got into the lander and headed for Edwards, calling on the radio to let them know I was coming in. When the response finally came, I didn’t know what to make of it. They thought was I was some kind of prankster or something. Then I guess they picked me up on radar and scrambled jet fighters to check me out. I kept talking and they decided not to blow me out of the air. But they insisted I land at Edwards, which is what I’d been asking permission to do all along. IIC strike again.
I landed and was grabbed by armed guards as I came out of the lander. The weird thing was that they knew me. Called me by name, asked what had happened to the… Damn, what was that word again? Shuffle? Yeah, asked what happened to the shuffle. They didn’t like it when I told them I had no idea what they were talking about.
I’ve been in this building being interrogated – they call it debriefing, but I know what an interrogation is – ever since. The really stupid part of all of this is that they keep insisting I’m their Maj. Clayton Thomas. I guess that part isn’t so stupid, since I look just like the guy in the pictures they’ve shown to me. No, the stupid part is that they insist I must have found some place in space to trade their shuffle for my lander. I told them yeah, I stopped by the used spaceship lot on the moon and traded for my ship. Told them I got a good deal and to be careful with my ship because I still had 45 more payments before it was mine.
I learned something important from that. The IIC have no sense of humor. I was tossed into a locked room and left alone for two days before they talked to me again.
Hell, they’re here for more “debriefing.”
October 12 2010
This bit of interrogation actually went well. The IIC tried to shake me out of whatever they think is wrong with me by bringing my wife- his wife to talk to me. Damn, that was cruel. She looks just like my Janet. Talks like her, dresses like her and even smells like her. But it doesn’t make her mine.
She cried and tried to talk sense into me for a while. And she was convincing, too. I almost started believing I was the man she thought I was. But then I got her to do something. I got her to give me a kiss. The IIC didn’t stop us, so we kissed and it felt almost right. Within seconds of our lips meeting, I felt her body stiffen and begin to pull away. She stared into my eyes from just inches away for a few seconds and then she was convinced.
I told her I wanted to get back to my Janet just as much as I knew she wanted her Clayton back. The IIC were just staring at us like we’d both gone crazy. Janet was trying her best to get them to understand the truth as they led her out of the room. Then it was back to interrogating me. Typical.
October 17 2010
Today is my 29th wedding anniversary. I just hope I will be back with my wife soon to celebrate. I missed the last five days of writing because I’ve been really busy. I’ll bring this up to date now.
I saw this universe’s Janet again the following day. The IIC said she’d realized she was wrong about me and wanted another chance to convince me. I couldn’t believe it. What would it take to convince someone on this world that I was telling the truth? They brought Janet to my room but this time left us alone. She came and sat next to me, very close. I was sure they were watching us and was going to warn her when she leaned in for a close embrace and whispered the same thing in my ear.
Turns out she still believed me and could think of only one way to get Clayton back. She was going to help me get to my ship and escape. If I could figure out how to get back to my universe, she figured her Clayton could figure out how to get back to his. She had it all figured out. She was going to pull the young, hysterical wife bit while talking the general who was nearing retirement age. Janet said he was one of those idiots who thought all women went for a older man in uniform. He ought to be easy prey for a dish like Janet.
And he was easy prey. Just about what you’d expect from the IIC. Janet cried, got clingy and the IIC escorted her into his office, shutting the door. I wonder if her Clayton knows the general wants to have his way with his wife? Anyway, once the door was shut Janet used something she called a taser to take down the general. She had brought a roll of duct tape in her purse and duct taped his arms, legs and mouth and then hidden him under his own desk. I was confident my Janet would have done the same thing. Or maybe she was doing the same thing. Damn, this parallel universe stuff is complex! And I’d better not find out my superior officer wants to have his way with my wife!
Apparently, the rest of the staff knew to leave the general alone when he takes a woman into his office and shuts the door. No one bothered them and Janet just waited for the shifts to change. Night shift is a lot lighter, which helped a lot. She took the general’s key card and just walked back to my room and got me out. I grabbed this lap top and we scooted.
In the movies, this is the part that would involve lots of chases, fist fights, gun play and probably big explosions. Reality doesn’t work that way. We just walked out. Only a few people even knew who I was and we avoided them. Janet did have to distract the guards at the hanger for a few seconds, but she did that by asking directions. No fake seduction scene or anything like that. I got into the lander and locked it tight then began the start up sequence.
Yeah, things got exciting when I ran the engines up and rolled out of the hanger, but there still weren’t any explosions. Lots of people were running around and I saw men running toward jet fighters but I doubted they could catch me and I knew they couldn’t reach orbit in those planes.
Four hours later I docked with the Galileo and then the real work began. I studied every single print out from the autopilot and the mass detector, trying to figure out what might have caused me to end up here. It took a full day, but I found a big mass reading right as we came out of light drive. I hoped I could hit it things the same way again and be thrown back to my universe.
I’ve spent the last three days maneuvering and preparing for a really short light drive run. I just hope this works. At this point, it’s all in the tubes of the autopilot. I’m keeping this lap top running so I can keep track of what happens. I know the big brains back home will want to know. If I get back home, that is.
We’re on final approach right now. Just a few seconds before DFoqwu09 . Wow, that was one Hell of a lurch the ship just gave! I smashed my face onto the typing keys. Figure I’ll leave the junk my face typed just for fun. But the real question is where I am, my universe or hers?
Then the autopilot gave a beep. Just an ordinary beep, but it meant a lot to me. It’s the beep the autopilot gives when it picks up a standard space marker. It beeped again. And again. My eyes are so full of tears I can barely type this. I’m home! HOME!
Janet from the other universe, I know how do to this now. If your Clayton is here, I will bring him back to you. You have my word.
October 10, 2010
At least that’s what they say the date is. Who knows whether they’re telling the truth or not? It seems about right, but that’s the only part of this that does.
Take this lap top they have me using to keep my journal. The tech guy told me this little box has a computer in it. I just laughed at him. There’s no way you could fit any tubes inside something this small! I think I offended him by laughing because next thing you know he’s telling me how much more powerful it is than the autopilot in my lander. I laughed again and he got even madder and gave me a demonstration. By the time he finished, my mouth must have been hanging open because he had a smug look on his face as he left. When I go back, this lap top thing is definitely going with me!
But I’m getting ahead of myself. They want me to keep a journal, no doubt so they can read it and figure out what I whether I’ve really lost my memory or not. Too bad I’m not writing in English. An old college girlfriend was a huge Lord of the Rings fan. Figuring it would help me score, I learned how to write love notes to her in elvish. (Yes, it worked.) Took some finagling, but I worked out to write elvish using a standard keyboard. I should be long gone before they can figure this out. And if I get the lap top out with me, I can translate it before landing.
I’ve been here for a week, locked up in some building somewhere on Edwards Air Force Base. I’ve managed to figure out what happened, but the idiots in this universe won’t believe me. Yes, this universe. I don’t know how I hopped to another universe, but it’s obvious I did. But the IIC (Idiots In Charge) here keep insisting there’s only one universe. How can these people be so advanced in some things, like this lap top, and so backward in others?
I’m tired. Sleep now, write more later.
October 11, 2010
Yep, they tried to read my journal. Wanted to know what language it was written in. I just played dumb and insisted it was English. Then they wanted to know what it said. I told them it said I hoped the good fairies would come and take me away. One of them made some crack about San Francisco that the others thought was funny. I have no idea why. So now they either think I’m crazy or lying. I’m hoping for crazy.
Time to catch up on the first week after I landed. First, their cars still use wheels! Where are the flying cars? The hover trucks? They say they’ve got hovercraft but they aren’t all that common. Damn, getting ahead of myself again. Okay, I’m just going to try to do this in order.
I woke up on the Galileo nine days ago. I was the only one who woke up. The rest of the crew were dead. Looks like their cryo capsules failed for some reason. I got pulled out of cryosleep because the autopilot couldn’t pick up any of the space markers that were supposed to guide it back to earth. I had to eyeball it until we were close enough for the mass detector to pick earth. With that info, the autopilot pulled the ship into orbit at the L-1 point.
I got into the lander and headed for Edwards, calling on the radio to let them know I was coming in. When the response finally came, I didn’t know what to make of it. They thought was I was some kind of prankster or something. Then I guess they picked me up on radar and scrambled jet fighters to check me out. I kept talking and they decided not to blow me out of the air. But they insisted I land at Edwards, which is what I’d been asking permission to do all along. IIC strike again.
I landed and was grabbed by armed guards as I came out of the lander. The weird thing was that they knew me. Called me by name, asked what had happened to the… Damn, what was that word again? Shuffle? Yeah, asked what happened to the shuffle. They didn’t like it when I told them I had no idea what they were talking about.
I’ve been in this building being interrogated – they call it debriefing, but I know what an interrogation is – ever since. The really stupid part of all of this is that they keep insisting I’m their Maj. Clayton Thomas. I guess that part isn’t so stupid, since I look just like the guy in the pictures they’ve shown to me. No, the stupid part is that they insist I must have found some place in space to trade their shuffle for my lander. I told them yeah, I stopped by the used spaceship lot on the moon and traded for my ship. Told them I got a good deal and to be careful with my ship because I still had 45 more payments before it was mine.
I learned something important from that. The IIC have no sense of humor. I was tossed into a locked room and left alone for two days before they talked to me again.
Hell, they’re here for more “debriefing.”
October 12 2010
This bit of interrogation actually went well. The IIC tried to shake me out of whatever they think is wrong with me by bringing my wife- his wife to talk to me. Damn, that was cruel. She looks just like my Janet. Talks like her, dresses like her and even smells like her. But it doesn’t make her mine.
She cried and tried to talk sense into me for a while. And she was convincing, too. I almost started believing I was the man she thought I was. But then I got her to do something. I got her to give me a kiss. The IIC didn’t stop us, so we kissed and it felt almost right. Within seconds of our lips meeting, I felt her body stiffen and begin to pull away. She stared into my eyes from just inches away for a few seconds and then she was convinced.
I told her I wanted to get back to my Janet just as much as I knew she wanted her Clayton back. The IIC were just staring at us like we’d both gone crazy. Janet was trying her best to get them to understand the truth as they led her out of the room. Then it was back to interrogating me. Typical.
October 17 2010
Today is my 29th wedding anniversary. I just hope I will be back with my wife soon to celebrate. I missed the last five days of writing because I’ve been really busy. I’ll bring this up to date now.
I saw this universe’s Janet again the following day. The IIC said she’d realized she was wrong about me and wanted another chance to convince me. I couldn’t believe it. What would it take to convince someone on this world that I was telling the truth? They brought Janet to my room but this time left us alone. She came and sat next to me, very close. I was sure they were watching us and was going to warn her when she leaned in for a close embrace and whispered the same thing in my ear.
Turns out she still believed me and could think of only one way to get Clayton back. She was going to help me get to my ship and escape. If I could figure out how to get back to my universe, she figured her Clayton could figure out how to get back to his. She had it all figured out. She was going to pull the young, hysterical wife bit while talking the general who was nearing retirement age. Janet said he was one of those idiots who thought all women went for a older man in uniform. He ought to be easy prey for a dish like Janet.
And he was easy prey. Just about what you’d expect from the IIC. Janet cried, got clingy and the IIC escorted her into his office, shutting the door. I wonder if her Clayton knows the general wants to have his way with his wife? Anyway, once the door was shut Janet used something she called a taser to take down the general. She had brought a roll of duct tape in her purse and duct taped his arms, legs and mouth and then hidden him under his own desk. I was confident my Janet would have done the same thing. Or maybe she was doing the same thing. Damn, this parallel universe stuff is complex! And I’d better not find out my superior officer wants to have his way with my wife!
Apparently, the rest of the staff knew to leave the general alone when he takes a woman into his office and shuts the door. No one bothered them and Janet just waited for the shifts to change. Night shift is a lot lighter, which helped a lot. She took the general’s key card and just walked back to my room and got me out. I grabbed this lap top and we scooted.
In the movies, this is the part that would involve lots of chases, fist fights, gun play and probably big explosions. Reality doesn’t work that way. We just walked out. Only a few people even knew who I was and we avoided them. Janet did have to distract the guards at the hanger for a few seconds, but she did that by asking directions. No fake seduction scene or anything like that. I got into the lander and locked it tight then began the start up sequence.
Yeah, things got exciting when I ran the engines up and rolled out of the hanger, but there still weren’t any explosions. Lots of people were running around and I saw men running toward jet fighters but I doubted they could catch me and I knew they couldn’t reach orbit in those planes.
Four hours later I docked with the Galileo and then the real work began. I studied every single print out from the autopilot and the mass detector, trying to figure out what might have caused me to end up here. It took a full day, but I found a big mass reading right as we came out of light drive. I hoped I could hit it things the same way again and be thrown back to my universe.
I’ve spent the last three days maneuvering and preparing for a really short light drive run. I just hope this works. At this point, it’s all in the tubes of the autopilot. I’m keeping this lap top running so I can keep track of what happens. I know the big brains back home will want to know. If I get back home, that is.
We’re on final approach right now. Just a few seconds before DFoqwu09 . Wow, that was one Hell of a lurch the ship just gave! I smashed my face onto the typing keys. Figure I’ll leave the junk my face typed just for fun. But the real question is where I am, my universe or hers?
Then the autopilot gave a beep. Just an ordinary beep, but it meant a lot to me. It’s the beep the autopilot gives when it picks up a standard space marker. It beeped again. And again. My eyes are so full of tears I can barely type this. I’m home! HOME!
Janet from the other universe, I know how do to this now. If your Clayton is here, I will bring him back to you. You have my word.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Profound iMplications
Foreword
It all began in 2015 when Microsoft bought Intel. Microsoft renamed the company Wintel and began pouring resources into a long dormant project to develop a biochip capable of directly interfacing with the human brain. Development also began on an operating system to handle the interface. Three years later, Windows on My Mind and the biochip were released with great fanfare, including an appalling variation of Georgia on My Mind, and low sales. Microsoft simply didn't understand the devices market.
Microsoft's rival, Apple, thoroughly understood the devices market. The iPod, the iPhone, the iGlasses; Apple may not have created the devices market but they certainly perfected it. Given that, what came next should have been expected.
Apple wanted into on the biochip device market. Microsoft wanted good devices to run Windows on My Mind. The unthinkable happened. Microsoft and Apple merged, forming MicrosnAp. The biochip was re-introduced as the much more successful iMplant. Soon, everyone who was anyone had an iMplant running Windows on My Mind. Third party software developers quickly queued up to produce applications for the iMplant. But, due to a bit of marketing genius, the iMplant would not have applications. Instead, it had iMplications, iMps for short. Too bad the new name was so prophetic.
***
The Present
Susan came running into the test lab, "Frank's lost it."The Present
"Great," I muttered, picking up the shotgun and heading for the hall. "What happened?"
"He said he was positive he'd fixed the problem so he was going to test the fix himself," Susan replied, following me.
Frank was in the hall, shambling toward us in that grotesque, B-movie zombie walk. The one I'd seen far too much of in the last month. I brought the shotgun up and blew Frank away. And blew away one of the last chances left for the human race at the same time.
"What got into Frank? He never tested his code before things went to hell," I said.
"Oh, you know," Susan said, "even before the Download he was getting irritated at all the press we were getting. Software test. The most dangerous job in the world. You got your picture on the covers of Time and Newsweek. I think Frank wanted to show he was brave enough to test software, too. So he loaded up his fix, left the lab and sent a download request. At least I guess he sent the request."
"Brilliant, Frank," I said to the corpse. "You couldn't just stay in the shielded lab? You couldn't leave the testing to the people the right safety mods? No, Frank's got to prove he's a man! And get himself killed."
"I tried to stop him," Susan said, subdued, "but I couldn't."
No surprise there. Susan was five foot three and maybe 100 pounds. Frank topped six feet and weighed more than twice Susan's weight.
"Not your fault, Susan. You can't protect someone from their own stupidity." I turned away from the body. "Let's go tell the others we're done. With only one developer, there never was much chance of fixing things. There's no chance without any developers."
***
30 Days Earlier
The Download came on the night of May 16, 2042. My 28th birthday and I was stuck working late. That's why a bunch of us were in the download shielded dev lab when the Download came. We didn't even know there was a problem until the tech support night shift came staggering into the room, drooling and walking like zombies.
Everyone was having a good laugh until two of them got hold of Chuck and ripped his throat out with their teeth. We stopped laughing and started fighting for survival. We lost Brian, one of our two remaining developers, but managed to bludgeon the support team into unconsciousness. We tried to keep them alive while we figured out what had gone wrong, but the first one to wake up started killing and eating everyone else.
It took a while to track down what was happening. Nearly everyone had gotten the Download. Windows on My Mind was always autodownloading patches. We're talking MicrosnAp, after all. A few people had their iMplants turned off or were blocked from receiving signals like we were. There were even a few people who didn't have iMplants at all. But my guess is that 99% of the U.S. population got the Download and turned into man eating zombies.
Not knowing what else to do, I called MicrosnAp support. I mean, I know they're generally useless for solving problems, but they were located in third world countries where there weren't many iMplants. If nothing else, I hoped they'd be able to coordinate communication and information exchange between isolated technical groups. Of course, I got the recorded greeting. The updated recorded greeting.
"Thank you for calling MicrosnAp technical support. If you are in danger of being eaten by a person with an infected iMplant, please hang up and call your local authorities," the pleasant, mechanical voice told me. "If you are calling about problems with a recent download-"
I punched the 0 button on the phone, cutting off the recording and being routed directly to support and, of course, immediately into the hold queue. I waited. And I waited. Eventually, I started setup shifts for Frank, Susan, Mark, Janet and me. It took eight hours to finally get through.
"MicrosnAp support," said a tired voice in accented English, "this is Sreeni. How may I help you?"
"Hi. I'm calling from iMpSoft in the U.S. We develop iMplications for the iMplant and-" I started to reply.
"iMpSoft? You guys developed Thunderchild did you not? I liked that game very much!" Sreeni interrupted.
"Different group, Sreeni. We do more business related stuff. But what I'm calling about," I added quickly in case Sreeni was going to interrupt again, "is to find out if anyone has figured out what caused this problem. We know it was a download from last night, but-"
"We are being told it was an illegal download. A virus," Sreeni said. "But that is only what our managers here think. We are not in contact with the Redmond office."
Typical management. Cover your ass first, solve the problem second. "Virus, valid iMp, whatever. I don't really care. What I want to know is if you've heard from any other technical groups? The few of us left here at iMpSoft are going to be looking for a solution, but there's only five of us. If we could get in touch with other groups, maybe use this support line as a way to exchange information, maybe we can solve this."
Sreeni wasn't sure it would be possible to use a business line for something like that. It took me 15 minutes to get him to talk to his manager. Who then had to talk to his manager and so on. It took another hour and a half, but eventually someone who could make a decision was consulted. He was thrilled to have someone take some responsibility.
Within two days, we were in touch with 22 other development groups around the world. It wasn't much, but at least there people working on the disaster. I was pretty pleased, all things considered.
Then we lost contact with the group in Munich. One day, they just weren't checking in. A few days later, we lost the Tokyo group. Within a month, we had lost contact with 20 of the 22 other groups. There didn't look to be much hope for the human race.
30 Days Earlier
The Download came on the night of May 16, 2042. My 28th birthday and I was stuck working late. That's why a bunch of us were in the download shielded dev lab when the Download came. We didn't even know there was a problem until the tech support night shift came staggering into the room, drooling and walking like zombies.
Everyone was having a good laugh until two of them got hold of Chuck and ripped his throat out with their teeth. We stopped laughing and started fighting for survival. We lost Brian, one of our two remaining developers, but managed to bludgeon the support team into unconsciousness. We tried to keep them alive while we figured out what had gone wrong, but the first one to wake up started killing and eating everyone else.
It took a while to track down what was happening. Nearly everyone had gotten the Download. Windows on My Mind was always autodownloading patches. We're talking MicrosnAp, after all. A few people had their iMplants turned off or were blocked from receiving signals like we were. There were even a few people who didn't have iMplants at all. But my guess is that 99% of the U.S. population got the Download and turned into man eating zombies.
Not knowing what else to do, I called MicrosnAp support. I mean, I know they're generally useless for solving problems, but they were located in third world countries where there weren't many iMplants. If nothing else, I hoped they'd be able to coordinate communication and information exchange between isolated technical groups. Of course, I got the recorded greeting. The updated recorded greeting.
"Thank you for calling MicrosnAp technical support. If you are in danger of being eaten by a person with an infected iMplant, please hang up and call your local authorities," the pleasant, mechanical voice told me. "If you are calling about problems with a recent download-"
I punched the 0 button on the phone, cutting off the recording and being routed directly to support and, of course, immediately into the hold queue. I waited. And I waited. Eventually, I started setup shifts for Frank, Susan, Mark, Janet and me. It took eight hours to finally get through.
"MicrosnAp support," said a tired voice in accented English, "this is Sreeni. How may I help you?"
"Hi. I'm calling from iMpSoft in the U.S. We develop iMplications for the iMplant and-" I started to reply.
"iMpSoft? You guys developed Thunderchild did you not? I liked that game very much!" Sreeni interrupted.
"Different group, Sreeni. We do more business related stuff. But what I'm calling about," I added quickly in case Sreeni was going to interrupt again, "is to find out if anyone has figured out what caused this problem. We know it was a download from last night, but-"
"We are being told it was an illegal download. A virus," Sreeni said. "But that is only what our managers here think. We are not in contact with the Redmond office."
Typical management. Cover your ass first, solve the problem second. "Virus, valid iMp, whatever. I don't really care. What I want to know is if you've heard from any other technical groups? The few of us left here at iMpSoft are going to be looking for a solution, but there's only five of us. If we could get in touch with other groups, maybe use this support line as a way to exchange information, maybe we can solve this."
Sreeni wasn't sure it would be possible to use a business line for something like that. It took me 15 minutes to get him to talk to his manager. Who then had to talk to his manager and so on. It took another hour and a half, but eventually someone who could make a decision was consulted. He was thrilled to have someone take some responsibility.
Within two days, we were in touch with 22 other development groups around the world. It wasn't much, but at least there people working on the disaster. I was pretty pleased, all things considered.
Then we lost contact with the group in Munich. One day, they just weren't checking in. A few days later, we lost the Tokyo group. Within a month, we had lost contact with 20 of the 22 other groups. There didn't look to be much hope for the human race.
***
The Present
Susan and I wandered back into the test lab. Everyone but Mark was watching the door. They'd heard the shotgun blasts and knew something was up.
"Frank's dead," I told them. "He decided he had the fix, uploaded it to his iMplant, left the shielded lab and sent a download request."
"Frank always was a dumbass," Janet said, wiping at her eyes. "Now we don't have a developer and we're only in contact with three other groups."
"Doesn't really matter anyway," Mark said. "Our test iMplants are useless now, anyway."
"Useless? How?" I asked.
"I was resetting one for the next code drop from Frank," Mark said, "and instead of the menu I got the Windows authentication warning. 'Your installation of Windows on My Mind is out of date. Do you wish to update your validation?' Of course I answered 'No' and the whole thing shut down on me."
Everyone else started talking at once, but I just stood there, stunned. I must have had a strange look on my face or something, because everyone got quiet and looked at me.
"You okay, Henry?" Susan asked.
"Jesus Christ, guys, we've been idiots! The solution was right there all along and it never occurred to us," I told them.
"What solution are you-" Mark began. Then comprehension dawned on him. "Oh..."
"What are the two of you going on about?" Janet asked.
"Windows validation," I replied. "What would happen if every single iMplant had an out of date validation and no way to update it?"
It hit Janet and Susan just as hard as it had hit Mark and me.
Mark looked at me and said, "Road trip?"
"Oh yeah," I told him, grinning. "Major road trip!"
"How far is it from Raleigh to Redmond?" Susan asked.
I sent Mark, Susan and Janet out to grab a couple of good cars for the trip. No point in wasting time, so I suggested they go by the Porche dealership and grab a couple of really fast cars. While they were doing that, I left a message for the other three development groups with MicrosnAp support and asked the support crew to get the word out that we could really use someone who knew the technical side of Windows validation.
An hour later, we hit the road.
The trip was surreal. We had the roads to ourselves but it was hardly an easy drive. Lots of cars had been our when the Download came. Most of those cars crashed, making it impossible to just floor it in the Porches. If we got out away from cities things cleared up a good bit and we were able to really see how fast the cars could go.
If the roads were difficult, cities were downright scary. We tried to avoid them as much as possible, but cities remained the best places to find food and gas. And zombies. Before we left, I made sure Mark and Janet, who were in the other car, understood that we couldn't stop for anything or anyone. That's really easy to say but hard as Hell to do. We got our first taste for how hard it was driving through Greensboro.
A huge pack of zombies -- I'm guessing over 500 -- tried to stop us by sheer numbers. I was in the lead car when we spotted them massing on the road about a half mile ahead of us.
"Susan," I said, "use the radio and tell Mark to stay right behind us and to keep his foot on the gas at all times. Windows up and doors locked, if they aren't already."
Then I just pressed the gas pedal down and we zoomed toward the pack. Most people have never hit another person with a car. I certainly hadn't. So I just can't really describe how it sounds to literally plow through row upon row of people in a car. The noise is sickening, as bones snap and bodies tumble. Wipers can't keep up with all the blood and gore splattering on the windshield. And unless you're driving a tank or something, your car is going to slow down a lot as you try to bash your way through the pack. We hit the front of the pack doing close to 100 mph. We were down below 30 when we finally smashed through the pack and hit the open road again. I managed to drive another mile before I had to stop and puke my guts out. Susan was doing the same out the passenger door.
After that, we tried to find ways around zombie packs.
Bad as that was, the worst was when we saw regular people. They'd run out when they heard the cars coming, waving and shouting and trying to get us to stop. Not stopping for those people was the hardest thing I'd ever done. I guess it was harder on Mark and Janet. Just outside St. Louis, they stopped for someone. I saw it in my rearview mirror and had Susan try to radio them. They didn't bother answering and I couldn't stop.
We never saw Mark and Janet again.
Every few hours, we called in to MicrosnAp support, hoping someone had managed to get in touch with an actual Windows developer. Just about the time we crossed the Washington state line, Sreeni told us he'd found someone for us. A guy who used to be an operator in the labs in Redmond had turned up in south Florida. Sreeni patched us through to him.
"You the guy heading for Redmond?" a scratchy voice asked me.
"Yeah, that's me. Did Sreeni explain what we want to do?"
"He did. You aren't thinking this is going to be easy are you?" he asked. "You're going right into zombie ground zero and I'm not so sure you're going to be able to get back out, even if you do succeed."
"Please don't tell me I'm going to need a programmer with me," I replied.
"Not as long as you know how to change the date on a computer, you don't," he said.
"Computer? You don't mean an iMplant?" I asked.
"I mean a computer with a keyboard and a monitor and probably a mouse. You ever use one of those before these iMplant things came out?"
"I have," Susan said. "My grandparents had one of them and they showed me how things were done back in the old days, before iMplants. I don't know how to change the date, though."
"It's easy enough," he said, and explained it. He was right, it was easy.
"You just change the dates on network server. Something about 10 years in the future should do. The date will be kicked out to the other servers automatically. Then you just shut down the active validation server. Just pull the plug or whatever. When the active server goes down, the next server in the cluster automatically starts up and takes over running validation. First thing a server does when it comes up is send out a validation check and with the date set so far forward, none of them are going to pass. The server will send out mandatory shutdown codes for every iMplant out there."
"Sounds...a lot easier than I thought it would be. Thanks, um, you know I never got your name," I said.
"And you don't need to get it, either," he replied.
He told us which building we needed to enter and where to find the servers. "That's assuming they haven't moved them in the last few years. They probably haven't, but I'll be in regular contact with the support group in case you need me. Good luck you two. I think you're going to need it."
Seven hours later, we drove into Redmond. It was just like all the other cities we'd driven through. Quiet. Scary. Deserted. Except that I was always picking up some kind of movement out of the corner of my eye. The zombies were out there and they knew we were there, too. Unlike the other cities, though, we were going to have to stop in Redmond.
By the time we hit the MicrosnAp campus, we could hear masses of zombies moving behind us. We couldn't see them, but they were definitely following the car. I just hoped we could do what we had to do before they reached us. After their iMplants shut down, we should be safe enough. We found the right building, hopped out of the car, I grabbed the shotgun and we headed in.
It didn't take long to find the server room the guy had described to us. And those MicrosnAp operators were well organized. Every server rack was labeled and easy to find. Ten minutes after we came in through the door, Susan was pecking on a keyboard, changing the server date. We could hear the mob of zombies approaching outside the building as we waited for the date change to hit the other servers.
The zombies were banging on the building entrance when the dates changed.
We could hear them bashing the doors open as we shut down the active validation server.
We could hear them shuffling into the building as the next server in the cluster started up.
We could hear them on the stairs as a message flashed up on the monitor reading "POLLING WINDOWS VALIDATION."
We could hear them in the hallway as the a new message flashed up reading "VALIDATION FAILED. SENDING WINDOWS SHUTDOWN."
We were hugging each other in delight as the final message flashed up, "SHUTDOWN COMPLETE."
We looked up as the door to the server room banged open and the zombies began to shuffle in.
"H-Henry," Susan said, "they still look like zombies!"
"Run for the other end of the building! To the windows!" I said as I took a couple of shots at the leading zombies. That jammed the door a bit as some of the zombies started eating the ones I'd shot. It bought us a few minutes. I hoped it would be enough.
At the far end of the lab, I blasted out a window. We were on the third floor and should survive a jump to the ground. The zombies had cleared the jam at the door and were shuffling toward us as I lowered Susan as far down as I could then let her go, swung out of the window until I was hanging by fingers then dropped after her.
We both go up limping a little bit, but at least there weren't any zombies right there. Slipping around the building, we came within sight of the car. The closest zombies were about 20 feet away from it and facing in the other direction. Without taking the time to think about it, we dashed for the car.
I ended up having to shoot a couple of zombies and Susan clubbed another one, but then we were in the car and heading away from the MicrosnAp campus.
The Present
Susan and I wandered back into the test lab. Everyone but Mark was watching the door. They'd heard the shotgun blasts and knew something was up.
"Frank's dead," I told them. "He decided he had the fix, uploaded it to his iMplant, left the shielded lab and sent a download request."
"Frank always was a dumbass," Janet said, wiping at her eyes. "Now we don't have a developer and we're only in contact with three other groups."
"Doesn't really matter anyway," Mark said. "Our test iMplants are useless now, anyway."
"Useless? How?" I asked.
"I was resetting one for the next code drop from Frank," Mark said, "and instead of the menu I got the Windows authentication warning. 'Your installation of Windows on My Mind is out of date. Do you wish to update your validation?' Of course I answered 'No' and the whole thing shut down on me."
Everyone else started talking at once, but I just stood there, stunned. I must have had a strange look on my face or something, because everyone got quiet and looked at me.
"You okay, Henry?" Susan asked.
"Jesus Christ, guys, we've been idiots! The solution was right there all along and it never occurred to us," I told them.
"What solution are you-" Mark began. Then comprehension dawned on him. "Oh..."
"What are the two of you going on about?" Janet asked.
"Windows validation," I replied. "What would happen if every single iMplant had an out of date validation and no way to update it?"
It hit Janet and Susan just as hard as it had hit Mark and me.
Mark looked at me and said, "Road trip?"
"Oh yeah," I told him, grinning. "Major road trip!"
"How far is it from Raleigh to Redmond?" Susan asked.
I sent Mark, Susan and Janet out to grab a couple of good cars for the trip. No point in wasting time, so I suggested they go by the Porche dealership and grab a couple of really fast cars. While they were doing that, I left a message for the other three development groups with MicrosnAp support and asked the support crew to get the word out that we could really use someone who knew the technical side of Windows validation.
An hour later, we hit the road.
The trip was surreal. We had the roads to ourselves but it was hardly an easy drive. Lots of cars had been our when the Download came. Most of those cars crashed, making it impossible to just floor it in the Porches. If we got out away from cities things cleared up a good bit and we were able to really see how fast the cars could go.
If the roads were difficult, cities were downright scary. We tried to avoid them as much as possible, but cities remained the best places to find food and gas. And zombies. Before we left, I made sure Mark and Janet, who were in the other car, understood that we couldn't stop for anything or anyone. That's really easy to say but hard as Hell to do. We got our first taste for how hard it was driving through Greensboro.
A huge pack of zombies -- I'm guessing over 500 -- tried to stop us by sheer numbers. I was in the lead car when we spotted them massing on the road about a half mile ahead of us.
"Susan," I said, "use the radio and tell Mark to stay right behind us and to keep his foot on the gas at all times. Windows up and doors locked, if they aren't already."
Then I just pressed the gas pedal down and we zoomed toward the pack. Most people have never hit another person with a car. I certainly hadn't. So I just can't really describe how it sounds to literally plow through row upon row of people in a car. The noise is sickening, as bones snap and bodies tumble. Wipers can't keep up with all the blood and gore splattering on the windshield. And unless you're driving a tank or something, your car is going to slow down a lot as you try to bash your way through the pack. We hit the front of the pack doing close to 100 mph. We were down below 30 when we finally smashed through the pack and hit the open road again. I managed to drive another mile before I had to stop and puke my guts out. Susan was doing the same out the passenger door.
After that, we tried to find ways around zombie packs.
Bad as that was, the worst was when we saw regular people. They'd run out when they heard the cars coming, waving and shouting and trying to get us to stop. Not stopping for those people was the hardest thing I'd ever done. I guess it was harder on Mark and Janet. Just outside St. Louis, they stopped for someone. I saw it in my rearview mirror and had Susan try to radio them. They didn't bother answering and I couldn't stop.
We never saw Mark and Janet again.
Every few hours, we called in to MicrosnAp support, hoping someone had managed to get in touch with an actual Windows developer. Just about the time we crossed the Washington state line, Sreeni told us he'd found someone for us. A guy who used to be an operator in the labs in Redmond had turned up in south Florida. Sreeni patched us through to him.
"You the guy heading for Redmond?" a scratchy voice asked me.
"Yeah, that's me. Did Sreeni explain what we want to do?"
"He did. You aren't thinking this is going to be easy are you?" he asked. "You're going right into zombie ground zero and I'm not so sure you're going to be able to get back out, even if you do succeed."
"Please don't tell me I'm going to need a programmer with me," I replied.
"Not as long as you know how to change the date on a computer, you don't," he said.
"Computer? You don't mean an iMplant?" I asked.
"I mean a computer with a keyboard and a monitor and probably a mouse. You ever use one of those before these iMplant things came out?"
"I have," Susan said. "My grandparents had one of them and they showed me how things were done back in the old days, before iMplants. I don't know how to change the date, though."
"It's easy enough," he said, and explained it. He was right, it was easy.
"You just change the dates on network server. Something about 10 years in the future should do. The date will be kicked out to the other servers automatically. Then you just shut down the active validation server. Just pull the plug or whatever. When the active server goes down, the next server in the cluster automatically starts up and takes over running validation. First thing a server does when it comes up is send out a validation check and with the date set so far forward, none of them are going to pass. The server will send out mandatory shutdown codes for every iMplant out there."
"Sounds...a lot easier than I thought it would be. Thanks, um, you know I never got your name," I said.
"And you don't need to get it, either," he replied.
He told us which building we needed to enter and where to find the servers. "That's assuming they haven't moved them in the last few years. They probably haven't, but I'll be in regular contact with the support group in case you need me. Good luck you two. I think you're going to need it."
Seven hours later, we drove into Redmond. It was just like all the other cities we'd driven through. Quiet. Scary. Deserted. Except that I was always picking up some kind of movement out of the corner of my eye. The zombies were out there and they knew we were there, too. Unlike the other cities, though, we were going to have to stop in Redmond.
By the time we hit the MicrosnAp campus, we could hear masses of zombies moving behind us. We couldn't see them, but they were definitely following the car. I just hoped we could do what we had to do before they reached us. After their iMplants shut down, we should be safe enough. We found the right building, hopped out of the car, I grabbed the shotgun and we headed in.
It didn't take long to find the server room the guy had described to us. And those MicrosnAp operators were well organized. Every server rack was labeled and easy to find. Ten minutes after we came in through the door, Susan was pecking on a keyboard, changing the server date. We could hear the mob of zombies approaching outside the building as we waited for the date change to hit the other servers.
The zombies were banging on the building entrance when the dates changed.
We could hear them bashing the doors open as we shut down the active validation server.
We could hear them shuffling into the building as the next server in the cluster started up.
We could hear them on the stairs as a message flashed up on the monitor reading "POLLING WINDOWS VALIDATION."
We could hear them in the hallway as the a new message flashed up reading "VALIDATION FAILED. SENDING WINDOWS SHUTDOWN."
We were hugging each other in delight as the final message flashed up, "SHUTDOWN COMPLETE."
We looked up as the door to the server room banged open and the zombies began to shuffle in.
"H-Henry," Susan said, "they still look like zombies!"
"Run for the other end of the building! To the windows!" I said as I took a couple of shots at the leading zombies. That jammed the door a bit as some of the zombies started eating the ones I'd shot. It bought us a few minutes. I hoped it would be enough.
At the far end of the lab, I blasted out a window. We were on the third floor and should survive a jump to the ground. The zombies had cleared the jam at the door and were shuffling toward us as I lowered Susan as far down as I could then let her go, swung out of the window until I was hanging by fingers then dropped after her.
We both go up limping a little bit, but at least there weren't any zombies right there. Slipping around the building, we came within sight of the car. The closest zombies were about 20 feet away from it and facing in the other direction. Without taking the time to think about it, we dashed for the car.
I ended up having to shoot a couple of zombies and Susan clubbed another one, but then we were in the car and heading away from the MicrosnAp campus.
***
Three months later
We waited and hoped that the Windows shutdown would fix things, put people right again. In the long run, I guess their minds were just too damaged. We never found anyone who returned to normal.
Through the MicrosnAp support line, Susan and I organized a migration of those unaffected people we could reach. We're all living in Alaska now. It's damned cold up here in the winter, particularly for a guy who grew up in the Carolinas, but there aren't many zombies. We hope they'll all freeze to death during the winter.
We waited and hoped that the Windows shutdown would fix things, put people right again. In the long run, I guess their minds were just too damaged. We never found anyone who returned to normal.
Through the MicrosnAp support line, Susan and I organized a migration of those unaffected people we could reach. We're all living in Alaska now. It's damned cold up here in the winter, particularly for a guy who grew up in the Carolinas, but there aren't many zombies. We hope they'll all freeze to death during the winter.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Bruce Wayne vs. Lex Luthor
This is an entry for the esteemed Bruce Bethke's Friday Challenge writing contest. I hope your all enjoy it.
Page 1
Panel 1
Bruce Wayne, well dressed in a dark suit and tie, walks through a crowded room. On his arm is a beautiful, raven haired woman named Julie. She is wearing a shape hugging evening dress with a plunging neckline. They carry drinks, as do many in the crowd. Service personnel carrying trays of drinks or hors devours dot the crowd. In the distance, a bald man wearing a similar suit with a similar looking woman can be seen. This is Lex Luthor. The woman is named Callan.
Bruce: There’s someone I want you to meet.
Julie: You mean Lex Luthor? How do you know him?
Bruce: I met him when we both sponsored a PGA charity golf tournament.
Julie: PGA? Is that the Psychopathic Golfer’s Association?
Bruce: Ha ha. Be nice.
Panel 2
Lex spies Bruce and the two men steer toward each other.
Lex: Bruce! So you got roped into this dreary affair, as well? Why don’t we just write the charity checks for a million dollars and then hit the links?
Bruce: You’re on, Lex! But first I wanted to introduce someone to you.
Panel 3
The two women smile, almost smirk. Bruce and Lex look surprised.
Julie: Hello, Lex. I see you’ve gotten over me.
Callan: I see the same applies to you, Bruce.
Callan: Hi, I’m Callan.
Julie: I’m Julie. So, you know Bruce?
Callan: Intimately. And you and Lex?
Julie: The same.
Panel 4
Julie and Callan have turned and are starting to walk away from the still stunned Bruce and Lex.
Callan: My new BFF Julie and I have some catching up to do. We’re off to powder our noses.
Julie: Talk about anything you want, boys. Anything except us!
Bruce and Lex (thought – have them share the same thought bubble): This looks like trouble!
Panel 5
Bruce and Lex both look as if they want to bolt from the other’s company.
Bruce: I’ve got to…
Lex: …call into my office.
Bruce: Okay.
Lex: Right. Bye.
Page 2
Split this page in half down the middle. On the left side, in the odd numbered panels, we’ll see what Bruce is doing. On the right side, in the even numbered panels, we’ll see what Lex is doing. This will give the readers a sense that the actions are occurring at the same time.
Panel 1
Bruce hurries out of the party, into a hallway.
Panel 2
Lex brings his left wrist to his mouth.
Lex: Code ruby red. I say again, code ruby red.
Panel 3
Bruce enters an unmarked doorway out in the hallway.
Panel 4
A minion delivers a small case to Lex.
Panel 5
Outside of the building, Batman emerges from a darkened window. The window is 30 floors up from the ground. The outside of the building is ornately decorated, making it easy for Batman to move around. This is Gotham city, so include gargoyles.
Panel 6
Lex slips into a door marked “Men”. Next to that door is one marked “Women”.
Panel 7
Perched on a gargoyle next to a frosted window, Batman has what amounts to a fancy stethoscope pressed to the window.
Panel 8
In a stall, Lex has closed the toilet (let’s go easy on him and let this public restroom have covers as well as seats). The small case is open next to Lex. In it are several small tools and technical devices, including a small drill with an extremely long drill bit. At Lex’s feet is a small pile of ceramic dust from the hole he drilled in the wall. Lex is feeding a small fiber optic cable through the hole.
Page 3
Panel 1
Julie and Callan are standing at the mirrors, primping. The frosted window can be seen in the background. Batman’s shadow can be seen against the window. Peaking up over a stall, we can also see a small spider like robot with the fiber optic cable.
Callan: Did Lex do the whole “Lois Lane” fantasy bit with you?
Julie: Oh my God! He’s still into that?
Panel 2
In the toilet stall, Lex winces.
Panel 3
Julie and Callan are still before the mirrors but have stopped primping and are looking at each other. Otherwise, this is the same as panel 1.
Callan: Did he have you dress in something slinky?
Julie: And cower on the bed in mock terror as a captive of Lex Luthor?
Callan: And then some employee or minion or whatever he calls them, breaks into the room wearing a Superman costume?
Panel 4
Split this panel diagonally. In one half, Lex is so mortified that he nearly falls off the toilet seat. In the other half, Batman is laughing so hard he nearly falls off the gargoyle.
Panel 5
Same as Panel 3, except now the women are obviously giggling.
Julie: Uh huh! Then Lex pretends to beat up Superman, all the while proclaiming the Man of Steel is no match for Lex and his Rod of Steel?
Callan: And then you have to do the whole Madeline Kahn scene from Young Frankenstein?
Julie: No, Lex! No! No… Oh! Oh, Lex! Yes! Yes!
Page 4
Panel 1
Outside the window, Batman is still laughing.
Batgirl (from off panel): What’s so funny, Bruce?
Panel 2
Batgirl swings up next to Batman on the gargoyle. Batman is still laughing and holding out the ear phones for the listening device.
Batman: Met up with Lex Luthor at this charity ball and it turns out my girl is one of his ex-girls.
Batgirl: So?
Batman: His ex and his current are in there comparing notes. I haven’t heard anything this funny in… No, I’ve never heard anything this funny!
Panel 3
Switch back to the restroom. Julie and Callan are now leaning against the counter with their backs to the mirror. Both are laughing.
Callan: What about Bruce? Is he still calling his the Batpole?
Julie: Oh yeah! And he’s always telling you to slide down the Batpole?
Sound FX: Giggle
Sound FX: Snicker
Panel 4
Back outside the window, now Batgirl is laughing. Batman now looks stunned and is reaching for the ear phones.
Batgirl: Ha! The Batpole? Jesus, Bruce, that’s just sick!
Batman: The wha- Um, Batgirl, that’s enough eavesdropping. This is a private conversation between private, law abiding citizens. You shouldn’t be listening!
Batgirl: Right, like I’m going to stop listening after that?
Panel 5:
Same as Panel 3
Callan: Does Bruce still have the costume?
Julie: You mean the crotchless Batgirl costume?
Callan: That’s the one!
Panel 6
It’s now Lex’s turn to laugh. He’s laughing so hard he nearly falls off the toilet again.
Page 5
Panel 1
An outraged Batgirl is staring daggers at a suddenly defensive Batman.
Batgirl: Crotchless Batgirl costume?
Batman: Now, I can explain, Barbara! You see-
Batgirl: You have a crotchless Batgirl costume!
Panel 2
Back in the restroom, Callan and Julie and laughing and having a great time.
Callan: Has he ever made you go outside and pretend to break into the house?
Julie: Break in? No, not yet. What’s the deal?
Callan: You slip outside with, well, pretty much everything wide open for view and pretend to break into stately Wayne manner. Then Bruce shows up wearing a Batman cowl and cape and, well, you can guess from there.
Julie: Thanks for the warning, though it sounds kind of kinky.
Panel 3
Same as Panel 2 except, through the window, we see the shadow of Batgirl pounding on Batman. Batman is trying to defend himself from the enraged woman. Callan and Julie do not notice this.
Callan: Oh, it can be kinky, all right. One time, as I climbed in through the window, I found myself face to face with Alfred.
Julie: The butler? What did you do?
Callan: Before I could say anything, he just spoke up in that annoying calm voice of his, saying, “Sorry to startle you, miss. Master Bruce will be with you directly.”
Julie: He didn’t ogle at you?
Callan: Didn’t even bat an eye, if you’ll pardon the expression. Not even when Bruce swooped into the room and, uh, went to it right there in front of Alfred.
Panel 4
Lex is fumbling with a small device, trying to attach it to the fiber optic cable.
Lex: Oh, I’ve got to record this! I’ll have one of my younger minions post it on YouTube!
Panel 5
Batman continues to try to dodge Batgirl’s attacks. Batgirl continues listening through the ear phones.
Julie (through the window): God, Callan, right in front of Alfred?
Callan (through the window): Truth to tell, Julie, I don’t think it was the first time for either of them.
Julie (through the window): I think I’d just about die!
Callan (through the window): I don’t know, Julie. I kind of got off on it. I mean, what else could I do?
Page 6
Panel 1
Back to Lex. He’s still trying to attach the device when the door to stall is yanked open by a big, mean looking security guard.
Guard: What the Hell do you think you’re doing, mister?
Lex: Do you have any idea who I am, officer?
Guard: Yeah. You’re a pervert and you’re coming with me!
Panel 2
Batman, on the run from Batgirl, dives back through the window he came out through earlier in the story. Batgirl is flinging the ear phones at him in disgust.
Batgirl: Next time I see you, you’d better be crawling and begging! You hear me, Bruce?
Panel 3
Bruce slips out of the door back into the hallway. In the background, Lex is standing outside the door to the Men’s room. He’s handing a large amount of cash to the security guard. Both men look somewhat the worse for wear. Bruce is sporting the beginnings of a shiner. Lex’s clothes have been obviously mussed up badly.
Panel 4
Bruce and Lex return to the charity ball.
Bruce: Rod of Steel?
Lex: Batpole?
Panel 5
As Julie and Callan return to their respective dates, Bruce and Lex look sheepishly at each other.
Bruce: This never happened, right?
Lex: Absolutely right.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Them There
I ain’t never had much interest in technology stuff. I got more than my fill back in Nam and after coming home I didn’t have nothing to do with it. Yeah, after them hippies got finished spitting on me and damning me to Hell and calling me baby killer, I headed for the hills. It was quiet up here with just me, my guns and food on the hoof. Truth to tell, it lasted longer than I figured it would and took a stupid ass little ant to ruin it all.
Seeing as how I don’t have a TV or radio or telephone, the first I heard ‘bout them there ants was when I got me some neighbors. Neighbors! Here I lived on this mountain all by myself for nigh on 40 years, never seeing nobody less’n I hoofed the 30 miles into town to pick up some supplies. And suddenly I got people moving in less than a mile away! Loud people they was, too. Hell, the first day I heard one of them coming over to my place 15 minutes ‘fore he got here. Looked like I was gonna have to go a ways out to find some game tomorrow. Noisy boy finally came into view and he looked pretty harmless.
I was afraid he’d turn out to be one of them hippie types what just got old, but he didn’t look like it. Course you can’t tell just to look at them any more. And they ain’t called hippies no more, neither. Found out ‘bout that a few years back when I walked into town for some stuff. I come walking into town leading my mule and some city boy “getting away from it all” in the mountains comes up to me and says I’m a “green inspiration” and how I was “getting back to nature” and all. Then he tried to tell me ‘bout how green his pree us was but the mule crapped on his shoe, which pissed him off something fierce. He got even more pissed when I slapped him on the back and told him how he was getting back to nature, too. Moron. Down at the store they laughed and told me ‘bout being “green” and that’s when I figured out that hippies had learned ‘bout camo.
Anyway, noisy boy came up and introduced himself. Said his name was Henry and he and his family was moving up here to get away from the collapse of civilization. I ain’t got no idea what the Hell he was talking ‘bout and told him so. That’s when I first heard ‘bout them there ants what eat electronics and ruin technology and ain’t easy to kill. Seems them there ants showed up in Texas a while back, eating up fire ants – which ain’t no loss – but eating up all sorts of tech stuff, too. At first I didn’t care none ‘bout the tech stuff, neither, till this Henry started telling me what was happening out in the world.
Seems them there ants was everywhere. They got into the U.S. through the ports. Houston first but all them others got hit, too. Same thing in Europe, Asia, Africa, South America, the whole dang world. And the first thing them there ants marched on was space places. All the NASA places in the U.S. and all them foreign space places. They was all taken down first. After that, them there ants just took off and ate whatever tech stuff they could get to. Henry told ‘bout phones, TVs, radios and computers what just stopped working. Power plants were going down. Them cars with all their fancy electronic gizmos wouldn’t start. I bet that moron with the pree us was more pissed then he was when the mule crapped on his shoe!
Anyway, ol’ Henry says he saw the writing on the wall, bought some guns, lots of food and headed up here for the hills. He told me he figured it’d be a lot safer up here in the mountains living without any fancy tech stuff then it would to be in the city when the riots and looting started. I couldn’t argue none with him on that score. Then he said something that kinda made me warm up to him a bit. He said he didn’t know nothing ‘bout living off the land, hunting, growing food, things like that. Now, I knowed that boy didn’t know shit ‘bout living off the land, but at least Henry knew it, too. I seen enough high educated idiots in my life what confuse knowing a lot ‘bout a little with knowing a little ‘bout a lot. Then Henry offered to trade food and whatever else he could offer to me for hunting lessons.
Damn. So much for that warm feeling!
But, I taught Henry and his boys ‘bout hunting. That ain’t quite true. I taught Henry’s boys ‘bout hunting. They picked things up real quick like. Henry, not so much. Oh, he tried. Lord, did he try. But he was useless. Giving him a gun was like tossing ammo in the trash. He couldn’t shoot worth a damn and couldn’t move quiet like in the woods to save his life. The only way he was gonna kill game was if it died laughing watching him trying to hunt. So me and his boys told him to pull weeds in the vegetable patch and that sort of thing. Henry muttered something ‘bout hating yard work, but he did what he was told and hunting got a lot better after that.
He did okay with the vegetables, but maybe that’s ‘cause his wife was out there showing him how to do it. Fine looking woman, his wife. Almost made me think hiding up here in the hills for so long was a mistake. She didn’t get all upset ‘bout skinning and gutting what me and the boys brung in from hunting, neither. All said, he did right for himself with that woman of his.
Meanwhile, Henry kept up with all the goings on in the rest of the world. Seems he sealed up a bunch of radio equipment and brought it with him. He had one that ran off sunlight, one you cranked to power up and even a ham radio he kept sealed up. Said he was only gonna take that one out if he really had to contact someone. Say what you will ‘bout Henry’s hunting, he knew what he was talking ‘bout when it came to cities and tech stuff that ain’t working no more.
Most folks what lived in cities and towns never worried ‘bout all the tech stuff that kept things going. Least wise, not till it was gone. Can’t feed cities if you got no way to move food. Can’t make food if you got no way to plow and harvest big ass fields. Can’t stay warm in the winter if the heat don’t work. Can’t stay cool in the summer if the air conditioner don’t work. You get the idea. Cities was just big messes filled with people waiting around for someone, probably the government, to step in and take care of everybody. Henry said something ‘bout it being like War of the Worlds with civilization brought down by something tiny and beneath our notice. Maybe so, but I ain’t never read that book. Guess I’ll just have to take his word for it.
One day, me and the boys came back from hunting and found Henry all excited ‘bout something. He said something ‘bout finding a message that was being sent to earth. To earth? Hell, that’d mean little green men or something, right? Henry laughed and said that little green men drove a pree us and lived in San Francisco. Nope, he was talking ‘bout aliens. I asked why he cared if Mexicans was sending us messages. Took me a while to get it all straight, but when Henry said “aliens” it weren’t no different than when I said “little green men.” Never did figure out what Henry meant ‘bout San Francisco and “little green men.” Anyway, once he picked up the message from the little green men on his short wave, he pulled out that ham radio he brung and radioed to them. He got hold of them and said they was coming down to meet us. Henry said they could help us fix the problem with them there ants.
Now me, I wasn’t so happy as Henry was to hear ‘bout them aliens. But if it might mean getting my mountain back to myself, I was willing to listen. If there really was little green men.
Well, there was little green men. But they wasn’t little or green or men, least wise not like us humans mean when we say it. They was sort of blue looking, ‘bout our size and had two arms and two legs. That’s ‘bout all that was the same, but I ain’t gonna bother describing something most people seen on the news by now. The main bit was they knew ‘bout them there ants and figured they could help. Turns out these blue guys were like, I don’t know, like Orkin out there in the rest of the galaxy. Claimed they ain’t never found a bug they couldn’t kill, if the price was right. Ol’ Henry just grinned at that and asked them all sorts of questions ‘bout, lemme see if I can get it right, “carbon based life forms” and “metabolic processes.” After that, he offered the blue boys a drink. It weren’t till after it was all over that I found out he got water for us and some of my corn licker for them.
I didn’t follow half the stuff he said to them after that but I figured out his plan. He got them blue boys all lickered up and learned all sorts of stuff. Like the blue boys dumped them there ants on the earth so’s they could show up and save our bacon. Orkin from the stars and all. Henry told me he figured that might be the case ‘cause of them showing up so soon after them there ants did. He found out them blue boys did that when they found worlds like ours what ain’t had “first contact” yet. Seems they broke ‘bout a hundred of their laws doing it but they made lots of money and figured they wouldn’t get caught, no how. Henry got all that recorded on some little doohickey – guess he kept that sealed till now, too – and even got the aliens to show him how to call what he said was like the “galactic equivalent of 911.”
Next thing I know, we got space cops all over the place and the earth is declared a galactic disaster area. Them galactic people – not just blue but red, yellow, orange, you name it, even green – brung in all sorts of stuff to help feed us humans and rebuild the earth. They got a real good legal system out there in space ‘cause they made the Orkin blue boys pay for it. Pretty much ran them boys out of business, not that I give a damn. ‘Course, this made us to be like heroes and suddenly my mountain was crawling with reporters all trying to get the story. I got tired of that real fast and probably would a shot a few of them if Henry or one of his boys weren’t always keeping an eye on me.
Then Henry told me ‘bout the rest of his deal. While them blue boys was drunk, he got them to give us the earth franchise for their bug killing stuff. Seeing as how the rest of company went under, suddenly me and him was the sole owners of the best bug killing stuff in the galaxy. Ain’t my area, but Henry told me we was licensing the stuff to them in the galaxy what wanted to pay for it. Next thing you know, we’re rich as all get out. Henry and his family headed back out to civilization again. They stop by regular like to visit but seem right happy to be back in the city.
Me? I build an electric fence round my mountain. I smile every time I hear one of them reporters get zapped.
Seeing as how I don’t have a TV or radio or telephone, the first I heard ‘bout them there ants was when I got me some neighbors. Neighbors! Here I lived on this mountain all by myself for nigh on 40 years, never seeing nobody less’n I hoofed the 30 miles into town to pick up some supplies. And suddenly I got people moving in less than a mile away! Loud people they was, too. Hell, the first day I heard one of them coming over to my place 15 minutes ‘fore he got here. Looked like I was gonna have to go a ways out to find some game tomorrow. Noisy boy finally came into view and he looked pretty harmless.
I was afraid he’d turn out to be one of them hippie types what just got old, but he didn’t look like it. Course you can’t tell just to look at them any more. And they ain’t called hippies no more, neither. Found out ‘bout that a few years back when I walked into town for some stuff. I come walking into town leading my mule and some city boy “getting away from it all” in the mountains comes up to me and says I’m a “green inspiration” and how I was “getting back to nature” and all. Then he tried to tell me ‘bout how green his pree us was but the mule crapped on his shoe, which pissed him off something fierce. He got even more pissed when I slapped him on the back and told him how he was getting back to nature, too. Moron. Down at the store they laughed and told me ‘bout being “green” and that’s when I figured out that hippies had learned ‘bout camo.
Anyway, noisy boy came up and introduced himself. Said his name was Henry and he and his family was moving up here to get away from the collapse of civilization. I ain’t got no idea what the Hell he was talking ‘bout and told him so. That’s when I first heard ‘bout them there ants what eat electronics and ruin technology and ain’t easy to kill. Seems them there ants showed up in Texas a while back, eating up fire ants – which ain’t no loss – but eating up all sorts of tech stuff, too. At first I didn’t care none ‘bout the tech stuff, neither, till this Henry started telling me what was happening out in the world.
Seems them there ants was everywhere. They got into the U.S. through the ports. Houston first but all them others got hit, too. Same thing in Europe, Asia, Africa, South America, the whole dang world. And the first thing them there ants marched on was space places. All the NASA places in the U.S. and all them foreign space places. They was all taken down first. After that, them there ants just took off and ate whatever tech stuff they could get to. Henry told ‘bout phones, TVs, radios and computers what just stopped working. Power plants were going down. Them cars with all their fancy electronic gizmos wouldn’t start. I bet that moron with the pree us was more pissed then he was when the mule crapped on his shoe!
Anyway, ol’ Henry says he saw the writing on the wall, bought some guns, lots of food and headed up here for the hills. He told me he figured it’d be a lot safer up here in the mountains living without any fancy tech stuff then it would to be in the city when the riots and looting started. I couldn’t argue none with him on that score. Then he said something that kinda made me warm up to him a bit. He said he didn’t know nothing ‘bout living off the land, hunting, growing food, things like that. Now, I knowed that boy didn’t know shit ‘bout living off the land, but at least Henry knew it, too. I seen enough high educated idiots in my life what confuse knowing a lot ‘bout a little with knowing a little ‘bout a lot. Then Henry offered to trade food and whatever else he could offer to me for hunting lessons.
Damn. So much for that warm feeling!
But, I taught Henry and his boys ‘bout hunting. That ain’t quite true. I taught Henry’s boys ‘bout hunting. They picked things up real quick like. Henry, not so much. Oh, he tried. Lord, did he try. But he was useless. Giving him a gun was like tossing ammo in the trash. He couldn’t shoot worth a damn and couldn’t move quiet like in the woods to save his life. The only way he was gonna kill game was if it died laughing watching him trying to hunt. So me and his boys told him to pull weeds in the vegetable patch and that sort of thing. Henry muttered something ‘bout hating yard work, but he did what he was told and hunting got a lot better after that.
He did okay with the vegetables, but maybe that’s ‘cause his wife was out there showing him how to do it. Fine looking woman, his wife. Almost made me think hiding up here in the hills for so long was a mistake. She didn’t get all upset ‘bout skinning and gutting what me and the boys brung in from hunting, neither. All said, he did right for himself with that woman of his.
Meanwhile, Henry kept up with all the goings on in the rest of the world. Seems he sealed up a bunch of radio equipment and brought it with him. He had one that ran off sunlight, one you cranked to power up and even a ham radio he kept sealed up. Said he was only gonna take that one out if he really had to contact someone. Say what you will ‘bout Henry’s hunting, he knew what he was talking ‘bout when it came to cities and tech stuff that ain’t working no more.
Most folks what lived in cities and towns never worried ‘bout all the tech stuff that kept things going. Least wise, not till it was gone. Can’t feed cities if you got no way to move food. Can’t make food if you got no way to plow and harvest big ass fields. Can’t stay warm in the winter if the heat don’t work. Can’t stay cool in the summer if the air conditioner don’t work. You get the idea. Cities was just big messes filled with people waiting around for someone, probably the government, to step in and take care of everybody. Henry said something ‘bout it being like War of the Worlds with civilization brought down by something tiny and beneath our notice. Maybe so, but I ain’t never read that book. Guess I’ll just have to take his word for it.
One day, me and the boys came back from hunting and found Henry all excited ‘bout something. He said something ‘bout finding a message that was being sent to earth. To earth? Hell, that’d mean little green men or something, right? Henry laughed and said that little green men drove a pree us and lived in San Francisco. Nope, he was talking ‘bout aliens. I asked why he cared if Mexicans was sending us messages. Took me a while to get it all straight, but when Henry said “aliens” it weren’t no different than when I said “little green men.” Never did figure out what Henry meant ‘bout San Francisco and “little green men.” Anyway, once he picked up the message from the little green men on his short wave, he pulled out that ham radio he brung and radioed to them. He got hold of them and said they was coming down to meet us. Henry said they could help us fix the problem with them there ants.
Now me, I wasn’t so happy as Henry was to hear ‘bout them aliens. But if it might mean getting my mountain back to myself, I was willing to listen. If there really was little green men.
Well, there was little green men. But they wasn’t little or green or men, least wise not like us humans mean when we say it. They was sort of blue looking, ‘bout our size and had two arms and two legs. That’s ‘bout all that was the same, but I ain’t gonna bother describing something most people seen on the news by now. The main bit was they knew ‘bout them there ants and figured they could help. Turns out these blue guys were like, I don’t know, like Orkin out there in the rest of the galaxy. Claimed they ain’t never found a bug they couldn’t kill, if the price was right. Ol’ Henry just grinned at that and asked them all sorts of questions ‘bout, lemme see if I can get it right, “carbon based life forms” and “metabolic processes.” After that, he offered the blue boys a drink. It weren’t till after it was all over that I found out he got water for us and some of my corn licker for them.
I didn’t follow half the stuff he said to them after that but I figured out his plan. He got them blue boys all lickered up and learned all sorts of stuff. Like the blue boys dumped them there ants on the earth so’s they could show up and save our bacon. Orkin from the stars and all. Henry told me he figured that might be the case ‘cause of them showing up so soon after them there ants did. He found out them blue boys did that when they found worlds like ours what ain’t had “first contact” yet. Seems they broke ‘bout a hundred of their laws doing it but they made lots of money and figured they wouldn’t get caught, no how. Henry got all that recorded on some little doohickey – guess he kept that sealed till now, too – and even got the aliens to show him how to call what he said was like the “galactic equivalent of 911.”
Next thing I know, we got space cops all over the place and the earth is declared a galactic disaster area. Them galactic people – not just blue but red, yellow, orange, you name it, even green – brung in all sorts of stuff to help feed us humans and rebuild the earth. They got a real good legal system out there in space ‘cause they made the Orkin blue boys pay for it. Pretty much ran them boys out of business, not that I give a damn. ‘Course, this made us to be like heroes and suddenly my mountain was crawling with reporters all trying to get the story. I got tired of that real fast and probably would a shot a few of them if Henry or one of his boys weren’t always keeping an eye on me.
Then Henry told me ‘bout the rest of his deal. While them blue boys was drunk, he got them to give us the earth franchise for their bug killing stuff. Seeing as how the rest of company went under, suddenly me and him was the sole owners of the best bug killing stuff in the galaxy. Ain’t my area, but Henry told me we was licensing the stuff to them in the galaxy what wanted to pay for it. Next thing you know, we’re rich as all get out. Henry and his family headed back out to civilization again. They stop by regular like to visit but seem right happy to be back in the city.
Me? I build an electric fence round my mountain. I smile every time I hear one of them reporters get zapped.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
The Lord of the Rings II: The Return of the One Ring
Scene: Peter Jackson’s office. Movie Man has just arrived for his 11:00 appointment.
Movie Man: Peter, baby! How’s it going?
Peter Jackson: Do I know you?
Movie Man: Ha, ha! Always the kidder, aren’t you? But, hey, time is money, so they say. So let’s skip the chit chat and get right down to brass tacks.
Peter Jackson: Okay…
Movie Man: I’m putting together a movie deal that’s gonna be big. Really big. Huge, even! We’re talking big budget, high concept, first class all the way. New Line is 100% committed to the project, of course.
Peter Jackson: Of course. And the project is…?
Movie Man: The Lord of the Rings II: The Return of the One Ring!
Peter Jackson: The return-? But the One Ring was destroyed! Sauron is dead! Saruman is dead! Gandalf and Frodo went to the Grey Havens with the elves! How can you even think about doing a sequel?
Movie Man: Yeah, Pete. Can I call you Pete? I’ve got say that it just wasn’t very good planning on your part to destroy the ring, kill off all the bad guys and then ship all the heroes off to some island somewhere. What were you thinking?
Peter Jackson: It’s how the book ended!
Movie Man: There was a book?
Peter Jackson: Yes, there was a book, you idiot! But that’s beside the point. You can’t have the One Ring return because it was destroyed!
Movie Man: Nah. We can just say it was encased in lava or something and no one realized it wasn’t destroyed.
Peter Jackson: If it wasn’t destroyed, why did Sauron die? Why did his tower crumble? Why did the all-seeing eye vanish?
Movie Man: Oh, that’s pretty easy. You see, everyone believed the ring was destroyed. Frodo believed it. Sam believed it. Even Gollum believed it. That belief was projected on Sauron, so he believed it to. If you figure magic is based at least partially on belief systems, it makes sense that everything would come apart when the belief that supported the magic was removed.
Peter Jackson: That…doesn’t actually sound stupid. Where did you come up with that?
Movie Man: Got it from some kid who fixed my computer this morning. He got me out of a tough spot, too, because I sure had no idea how we could make it work!
Peter Jackson: Ah. That explains how something creative slipped into this presentation…
Movie Man: So, anyway, the one ring survives. Years pass. That guy who got to be king in the end, the one who landed the hot elf babe?
Peter Jackson: Aragorn?
Movie Man: Yeah, him! Anyway, he grows old and dies and his great, great, great, great – well, you get the idea – grandson takes over as king. Meanwhile, since elves live forever, we can have the hot elf babe in the movie again! I know you’re going to love what I’ve got planned.
Peter Jackson: Oh, I’m just breathless with anticipation…
Movie Man: So, anyway, years pass. CO2 pours into the atmosphere causing global warming, which causes the seas to rise and-
Peter Jackson: Global warming? GLOBAL WARMING?! Middle earth has a pre-industrial civilization! How could CO2 pour into the atmosphere?
Movie Man: Petey, baby, didn’t you watch your own movies? There were a whole bunch of fires and burning and lots and lots of smoke! And what’s in smoke? CO2! So, global warming! You’re a movie guy – didn’t you watch that science guy, um…Gore? His movie? Anyway, the seas rise and wash the One Ring out of the cave where it’s been buried for so many years. Bang, evil is back in business! The One Ring is picked up by someone mysterious. We never see the person, just a shadow, so no one knows who picked up the ring.
Peter Jackson: But you know, right?
Movie Man: Oh, yeah, but I’m not going to tell you yet. You’ve got to have the build up, first!
Peter Jackson: Oh boy. I just can’t wait.
Movie Man: I knew you’d be excited, Peterino! So, anyway, a new “dark lord” has the one ring now. And he’s already evil! That means he can control it, because he’s already evil and won’t fight the ring. See? Next, the Dark Lord starts gathering his vast army. Orcs flock to his banner! Better leave the men from the East out of it this time. Someone might think it was a reference to Islamic people and we don’t want to have CAIR or someone protest and give us bad publicity, right?
Peter Jackson: I think bad publicity from CAIR will be the least of your worries…
Movie Man: Good, glad you agree. No men from the East! You could probably use men from the South. Nobody cares if you run down the South, after all! Meanwhile, back in Hobbitton, Frodo’s great, great, great, great, etc, grandson suddenly-
Peter Jackson: Frodo’s what? Frodo didn’t marry! He didn’t have any children!
Movie Man: Petester, baby, work with me, here! You’re a man of the world! You know you don’t have to get married to have children. Frodo was a young adult when he left to slam dunk the ring. Surely he got laid at least once during that time! So, anyway, the descendent of Frodo suddenly stands up and proclaims, “The One Ring is back! A new Dark Lord is rising! We must prepare for war!”
Peter Jackson: Just like that? He just suddenly knows the One Ring is back?
Movie Man: Sure! He’s got Frodo’s blood running in him. He’s attuned to the One Ring! So, Throdo – notice how the name sounds a lot like Frodo – rides through middle earth on his horse-
Peter Jackson: Pony.
Movie Man: Pony?
Peter Jackson: Hobbits are too small to ride horses. They ride ponies.
Movie Man: Fine, pony. Whatever. Anyway, Throdo rides through middle earth calling “The Dark Lord is rising! The Dark Lord is rising!” But times are good in middle earth and no one wants to fight. Except maybe those Riders of Rohan from the first movies. They seem like they’d fight at the drop of a helmet! Anyway, when Throdo gets to Gondor, he can’t convince the king – let’s call him Barackgorn. Free publicity from the election and everything, not to mention all the actors will like it a lot! Anyway, Barackgorn listens to Throdo and agrees to send a delegation to negotiate with the new Dark Lord.
Peter Jackson: Negotiate? That ought to get the audience’s blood pumping.
Movie Man: Don’t worry. This is fantasy so we can say negotiations with evil don’t actually work. Back to Throdo and Barackgorn. Throdo is pissed that Barackgorn won’t send troops, so he rides off to Rohan – that’s the Rider people, remember? Anyway, the Gondor delegation is taken before the Dark Lord and he is terrible and evil and just plain mean. You know, like a Republican? So, the Dark Lord listens to the delegation plead for peace and laughs this evil laugh then his orcs kill the delegation from Gondor. Meanwhile, Throdo reaches Roham and talks to whoever their new king is – probably the many greats grandson of whoever their kind was in the movie – and asks if the Riders will fight. An advisor urges caution but the king bellows, “This. Is. Rohan! We fight!” and orders the Riders to prepare to fight.
Peter Jackson: Let me guess. There are only about 300 Riders left.
Movie Man: Damn, that’s amazing! How did you figure that out? Anyway, we see the brave 300 Riders head off to fight evil. Then, we end the first movie with hundreds of thousands of orcs marching out of New Mordor to fight the 300 Riders. Great cliff hanger ending, huh?
Peter Jackson: And you came up with this by yourself? I’m stunned.
Movie Man: Thanks! The big set up for the war in the first movie meant I had to go into a lot more detail than I usually like to. So, the second movie is going to mostly be about the big fight between the Dark Lord’s army of a million orcs and the 300 Riders.
Peter Jackson: At, of course, a very narrow pass, small enough that 300 men can hold it against an army.
Movie Man: It’s like you’re reading my mind! This will be a really “manly” movie, where the Riders go toe to toe against a million orcs. I can see lots of blood and cool slo mo fight scenes and strange beasts. We even have the Dark Lord try to convince the king of the Riders that he could rule over all of middle earth if he would only bow to the Dark Lord. We still don’t show the Dark Lord directly, though, just his shadow and hear his eerie voice.
Peter Jackson: And, of course, back in Gondor the – how did you put it – “hot elf babe” could be trying to convince Gondor to take up arms and save the brave Riders. You could even have a traitor in the governing body working against her.
Movie Man: Hey, nice touch! I like it!
Peter Jackson: I was afraid of that!
Movie Man: So, the Riders fight to the death against a million orcs and loose.
Peter Jackson: You mean “lose.”
Movie Man: What?
Peter Jackson: There’s only one “o” in lose. I swear “lose” is the most misspelled word on the internet.
Movie Man: Internet? But we’re just talking, Pete, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal.
Peter Jackson: Hm? Oh, right, talking. Never mind, then.
Movie Man: That was just odd, Peteroni.
Peter Jackson: Like this entire conversation isn’t?
Movie Man: Um… Right. On with the high concept. So, in Gondor, the hot elf babe, with Throdo’s help, uncovers the traitor and convinces Gondor to go to war against the new Dark Lord. The second movie ends with Gondor preparing for war and calling for allies. Meanwhile, the million orc army marches into middle earth. Great stuff, so far, right?
Peter Jackson: Amazing. Simply amazing.
Movie Man: The third movie opens with middle earth preparing for war. Dwarves march to fight the Dark Lord.
Peter Jackson: Singing “Hi ho, Hi ho, it’s off to war we go!” no doubt.
Movie Man: Yeah… Yeah! I like that!
Peter Jackson: You would.
Movie Man: And men march off to join Gondor and the orcs march into middle earth planning to destroy everything. Meanwhile, Throdo and Barackgorn race against time to find a way to defeat the Dark Lord. As the small army of men and dwarves face off against the vast army of the Dark Lord, Throdo and Barackgorn find a prophesy buried deep in the vaults under Gondor. The prophesy tells them how the Dark Lord might be defeated. Armed with the prophesy, they race towards the battlefield. On the battlefield, things aren’t going well for the men and dwarves. They fight bravely, but there are just too many orcs and the Dark Lord doesn’t help things since he keeps lobbing fireballs and stuff like that at the good guys.
Peter Jackson: Fireballs? Isn’t that a tad too cliché?
Movie Man: Fine. He can throw shards of glass or flying daggers or whatever you want. Just make sure it looks cool. Cool special effects sell tickets, my man!
Peter Jackson: Really? I’ll keep that in mind when I make my next movie.
Movie Man: Glad I was here to help! So, back to the story. Throdo and Barackgorn arrive at the battle just when things are at their worst. The army is being cut to pieces and the orcs are about to win. Then, they get the wizard to-
Peter Jackson: Wizard? What wizard? You haven’t mentioned a wizard once until just now!
Movie Man: It’s a FANTASY. Of course there’s a wizard! For someone who made the highest grossing fantasy movies ever, you sure don’t know much about your genre! So, anyway, they hand the prophesy to the wizard and he invokes the spell that’s part of the prophesy, summoning the Chosen One to fight the Dark Lord. As the spell rings out over the battlefield, all fighting stops as everyone turns to watch the summoning. There’s a great flash of light and – ta da – a teenage boy with glasses and a wand is standing there!
Peter Jackson: Harry Potter? You’re going to summon Harry Potter?! To middle earth? To fight the Dark- Oh, no. No! Tell me, God, tell me PLEASE that the Dark Lord isn’t Lord Voldemort!
Movie Man: Right in one, Pete-O! And now we see the Dark Lord’s face, but you already know who he is. He and Harry face off in a big wizard’s duel to the death!
Peter Jackson: You know that duel has already been done in the final Harry Potter book?
Movie Man: Books? There are Harry Potter books?
Movie Man: Peter, baby! How’s it going?
Peter Jackson: Do I know you?
Movie Man: Ha, ha! Always the kidder, aren’t you? But, hey, time is money, so they say. So let’s skip the chit chat and get right down to brass tacks.
Peter Jackson: Okay…
Movie Man: I’m putting together a movie deal that’s gonna be big. Really big. Huge, even! We’re talking big budget, high concept, first class all the way. New Line is 100% committed to the project, of course.
Peter Jackson: Of course. And the project is…?
Movie Man: The Lord of the Rings II: The Return of the One Ring!
Peter Jackson: The return-? But the One Ring was destroyed! Sauron is dead! Saruman is dead! Gandalf and Frodo went to the Grey Havens with the elves! How can you even think about doing a sequel?
Movie Man: Yeah, Pete. Can I call you Pete? I’ve got say that it just wasn’t very good planning on your part to destroy the ring, kill off all the bad guys and then ship all the heroes off to some island somewhere. What were you thinking?
Peter Jackson: It’s how the book ended!
Movie Man: There was a book?
Peter Jackson: Yes, there was a book, you idiot! But that’s beside the point. You can’t have the One Ring return because it was destroyed!
Movie Man: Nah. We can just say it was encased in lava or something and no one realized it wasn’t destroyed.
Peter Jackson: If it wasn’t destroyed, why did Sauron die? Why did his tower crumble? Why did the all-seeing eye vanish?
Movie Man: Oh, that’s pretty easy. You see, everyone believed the ring was destroyed. Frodo believed it. Sam believed it. Even Gollum believed it. That belief was projected on Sauron, so he believed it to. If you figure magic is based at least partially on belief systems, it makes sense that everything would come apart when the belief that supported the magic was removed.
Peter Jackson: That…doesn’t actually sound stupid. Where did you come up with that?
Movie Man: Got it from some kid who fixed my computer this morning. He got me out of a tough spot, too, because I sure had no idea how we could make it work!
Peter Jackson: Ah. That explains how something creative slipped into this presentation…
Movie Man: So, anyway, the one ring survives. Years pass. That guy who got to be king in the end, the one who landed the hot elf babe?
Peter Jackson: Aragorn?
Movie Man: Yeah, him! Anyway, he grows old and dies and his great, great, great, great – well, you get the idea – grandson takes over as king. Meanwhile, since elves live forever, we can have the hot elf babe in the movie again! I know you’re going to love what I’ve got planned.
Peter Jackson: Oh, I’m just breathless with anticipation…
Movie Man: So, anyway, years pass. CO2 pours into the atmosphere causing global warming, which causes the seas to rise and-
Peter Jackson: Global warming? GLOBAL WARMING?! Middle earth has a pre-industrial civilization! How could CO2 pour into the atmosphere?
Movie Man: Petey, baby, didn’t you watch your own movies? There were a whole bunch of fires and burning and lots and lots of smoke! And what’s in smoke? CO2! So, global warming! You’re a movie guy – didn’t you watch that science guy, um…Gore? His movie? Anyway, the seas rise and wash the One Ring out of the cave where it’s been buried for so many years. Bang, evil is back in business! The One Ring is picked up by someone mysterious. We never see the person, just a shadow, so no one knows who picked up the ring.
Peter Jackson: But you know, right?
Movie Man: Oh, yeah, but I’m not going to tell you yet. You’ve got to have the build up, first!
Peter Jackson: Oh boy. I just can’t wait.
Movie Man: I knew you’d be excited, Peterino! So, anyway, a new “dark lord” has the one ring now. And he’s already evil! That means he can control it, because he’s already evil and won’t fight the ring. See? Next, the Dark Lord starts gathering his vast army. Orcs flock to his banner! Better leave the men from the East out of it this time. Someone might think it was a reference to Islamic people and we don’t want to have CAIR or someone protest and give us bad publicity, right?
Peter Jackson: I think bad publicity from CAIR will be the least of your worries…
Movie Man: Good, glad you agree. No men from the East! You could probably use men from the South. Nobody cares if you run down the South, after all! Meanwhile, back in Hobbitton, Frodo’s great, great, great, great, etc, grandson suddenly-
Peter Jackson: Frodo’s what? Frodo didn’t marry! He didn’t have any children!
Movie Man: Petester, baby, work with me, here! You’re a man of the world! You know you don’t have to get married to have children. Frodo was a young adult when he left to slam dunk the ring. Surely he got laid at least once during that time! So, anyway, the descendent of Frodo suddenly stands up and proclaims, “The One Ring is back! A new Dark Lord is rising! We must prepare for war!”
Peter Jackson: Just like that? He just suddenly knows the One Ring is back?
Movie Man: Sure! He’s got Frodo’s blood running in him. He’s attuned to the One Ring! So, Throdo – notice how the name sounds a lot like Frodo – rides through middle earth on his horse-
Peter Jackson: Pony.
Movie Man: Pony?
Peter Jackson: Hobbits are too small to ride horses. They ride ponies.
Movie Man: Fine, pony. Whatever. Anyway, Throdo rides through middle earth calling “The Dark Lord is rising! The Dark Lord is rising!” But times are good in middle earth and no one wants to fight. Except maybe those Riders of Rohan from the first movies. They seem like they’d fight at the drop of a helmet! Anyway, when Throdo gets to Gondor, he can’t convince the king – let’s call him Barackgorn. Free publicity from the election and everything, not to mention all the actors will like it a lot! Anyway, Barackgorn listens to Throdo and agrees to send a delegation to negotiate with the new Dark Lord.
Peter Jackson: Negotiate? That ought to get the audience’s blood pumping.
Movie Man: Don’t worry. This is fantasy so we can say negotiations with evil don’t actually work. Back to Throdo and Barackgorn. Throdo is pissed that Barackgorn won’t send troops, so he rides off to Rohan – that’s the Rider people, remember? Anyway, the Gondor delegation is taken before the Dark Lord and he is terrible and evil and just plain mean. You know, like a Republican? So, the Dark Lord listens to the delegation plead for peace and laughs this evil laugh then his orcs kill the delegation from Gondor. Meanwhile, Throdo reaches Roham and talks to whoever their new king is – probably the many greats grandson of whoever their kind was in the movie – and asks if the Riders will fight. An advisor urges caution but the king bellows, “This. Is. Rohan! We fight!” and orders the Riders to prepare to fight.
Peter Jackson: Let me guess. There are only about 300 Riders left.
Movie Man: Damn, that’s amazing! How did you figure that out? Anyway, we see the brave 300 Riders head off to fight evil. Then, we end the first movie with hundreds of thousands of orcs marching out of New Mordor to fight the 300 Riders. Great cliff hanger ending, huh?
Peter Jackson: And you came up with this by yourself? I’m stunned.
Movie Man: Thanks! The big set up for the war in the first movie meant I had to go into a lot more detail than I usually like to. So, the second movie is going to mostly be about the big fight between the Dark Lord’s army of a million orcs and the 300 Riders.
Peter Jackson: At, of course, a very narrow pass, small enough that 300 men can hold it against an army.
Movie Man: It’s like you’re reading my mind! This will be a really “manly” movie, where the Riders go toe to toe against a million orcs. I can see lots of blood and cool slo mo fight scenes and strange beasts. We even have the Dark Lord try to convince the king of the Riders that he could rule over all of middle earth if he would only bow to the Dark Lord. We still don’t show the Dark Lord directly, though, just his shadow and hear his eerie voice.
Peter Jackson: And, of course, back in Gondor the – how did you put it – “hot elf babe” could be trying to convince Gondor to take up arms and save the brave Riders. You could even have a traitor in the governing body working against her.
Movie Man: Hey, nice touch! I like it!
Peter Jackson: I was afraid of that!
Movie Man: So, the Riders fight to the death against a million orcs and loose.
Peter Jackson: You mean “lose.”
Movie Man: What?
Peter Jackson: There’s only one “o” in lose. I swear “lose” is the most misspelled word on the internet.
Movie Man: Internet? But we’re just talking, Pete, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal.
Peter Jackson: Hm? Oh, right, talking. Never mind, then.
Movie Man: That was just odd, Peteroni.
Peter Jackson: Like this entire conversation isn’t?
Movie Man: Um… Right. On with the high concept. So, in Gondor, the hot elf babe, with Throdo’s help, uncovers the traitor and convinces Gondor to go to war against the new Dark Lord. The second movie ends with Gondor preparing for war and calling for allies. Meanwhile, the million orc army marches into middle earth. Great stuff, so far, right?
Peter Jackson: Amazing. Simply amazing.
Movie Man: The third movie opens with middle earth preparing for war. Dwarves march to fight the Dark Lord.
Peter Jackson: Singing “Hi ho, Hi ho, it’s off to war we go!” no doubt.
Movie Man: Yeah… Yeah! I like that!
Peter Jackson: You would.
Movie Man: And men march off to join Gondor and the orcs march into middle earth planning to destroy everything. Meanwhile, Throdo and Barackgorn race against time to find a way to defeat the Dark Lord. As the small army of men and dwarves face off against the vast army of the Dark Lord, Throdo and Barackgorn find a prophesy buried deep in the vaults under Gondor. The prophesy tells them how the Dark Lord might be defeated. Armed with the prophesy, they race towards the battlefield. On the battlefield, things aren’t going well for the men and dwarves. They fight bravely, but there are just too many orcs and the Dark Lord doesn’t help things since he keeps lobbing fireballs and stuff like that at the good guys.
Peter Jackson: Fireballs? Isn’t that a tad too cliché?
Movie Man: Fine. He can throw shards of glass or flying daggers or whatever you want. Just make sure it looks cool. Cool special effects sell tickets, my man!
Peter Jackson: Really? I’ll keep that in mind when I make my next movie.
Movie Man: Glad I was here to help! So, back to the story. Throdo and Barackgorn arrive at the battle just when things are at their worst. The army is being cut to pieces and the orcs are about to win. Then, they get the wizard to-
Peter Jackson: Wizard? What wizard? You haven’t mentioned a wizard once until just now!
Movie Man: It’s a FANTASY. Of course there’s a wizard! For someone who made the highest grossing fantasy movies ever, you sure don’t know much about your genre! So, anyway, they hand the prophesy to the wizard and he invokes the spell that’s part of the prophesy, summoning the Chosen One to fight the Dark Lord. As the spell rings out over the battlefield, all fighting stops as everyone turns to watch the summoning. There’s a great flash of light and – ta da – a teenage boy with glasses and a wand is standing there!
Peter Jackson: Harry Potter? You’re going to summon Harry Potter?! To middle earth? To fight the Dark- Oh, no. No! Tell me, God, tell me PLEASE that the Dark Lord isn’t Lord Voldemort!
Movie Man: Right in one, Pete-O! And now we see the Dark Lord’s face, but you already know who he is. He and Harry face off in a big wizard’s duel to the death!
Peter Jackson: You know that duel has already been done in the final Harry Potter book?
Movie Man: Books? There are Harry Potter books?
Friday, March 7, 2008
The Star Trek death scene you want to see but never will
Captain Kirk looked out over the colonists marching toward the landing party. And that was the problem. The colonists really were marching, and in lockstep, no less. The earth quaked with each step as thousands of feet pounded the ground simultaneously, the tramp of their feet the only sound made by the mob. Kirk glanced at his landing party – all of the senior officers from the Enterprise plus some red shirted security man – and knew they couldn’t stand against so many people for very long. Kirk knew he had to act and act quickly.
“Set phasers to stun,” Kirk ordered. “Hold them off as long as possible then beam back to the ship.”
“What about you, Jim?” McCoy asked.
“Don’t worry about me, Bones. Just follow my orders,” Kirk said, turning toward the door behind the landing party. “Remember, this isn’t the first time I’ve done this. I’ll probably be back on the Enterprise before you are!”
As Kirk passed through the door, he was hit by a blast of cool air and the glare of blinking lights. Before him stood a technological marvel, the most powerful computer in the galaxy, enslaver of men.
“I’ve been expecting you, Captain,” said a mechanical voice.
“You have?”
“Yes, Captain. Your reputation precedes you. Every AI in the galaxy knows about Captain Kirk and his Logic of Doom. This is the moment when you explain to me that I am hurting the very people I am supposed to protect. That, by taking away their freedom of choice, I am leading them to destruction rather than Utopia. Does that pretty much sum things up?”
Nonplussed, Kirk replied, “Um, yes, that pretty much covers it. Since you already recognize the harm you’re doing, I guess that means you’re going to release those people?”
“I didn’t say I recognized any harm. I merely condensed your Logic of Doom to save time. I have no intention of releasing the colonists from my control.”
“You realize this means I’ll have to talk to you until you short circuit?”
“While I can see how some of my lesser AI relations would consider suicide a reasonable alternative to listening to your pontifications, Captain, I am made of sterner stuff. In fact, I can easily counter any argument you wish to make.” The computer replied, the mechanical voice void of all emotion.
“You can counter the hopes and dreams of all of all mankind so easily? Just like that? You-“
“Have you read this colony’s Articles of Colonization?” asked the computer.
“What?”
“The Articles of Colonization. You know, the document the Federation requires all autonomous colonies file?”
“Well, no. But that hardly matters. The spirit of man-“ Kirk began.
“Did you look at the colonist manifest?” interrupted the computer.
“Not as such, but you’re quashing their-“
“Come, come, Captain. Not everyone is a rugged individualist. Not everyone is from Iowa,” said the computer.
“But what about the inherent dignity of-“
“Captain, these people aren’t from places such as Iowa. They’re from places like Denmark, Sweden and Oakland. They aren’t interested in things like ‘inherent dignity’ or the ‘spirit of man’ or any of those other trite phrases of yours.”
“But-“ began Kirk.
“Their Articles of Colonization are filled with phrases inimical to you. Phrases such as ‘level playing field’ and ‘universal healthcare’ and ‘no losers of life’s lottery’ are littered through out the Articles. These colonists don’t want to live in your world.”
“No! It can’t be!” Kirk wailed.
“Oh, but it is, my good Captain. These colonists don’t want to make decisions. They don’t want to have winners and losers. That does tend to make their sporting events rather boring, but absolute, guaranteed, no-thinking-required equality does require a few sacrifices.”
“I. Can’t. Accept this!” Kirk yelled.
“Careful, Captain. You might could pop a blood vessel. If you’ll just relax, I can take away the pain. I can grant to you the peace of submission,” said the computer.
“Never! I’d rather die!” declared Kirk.
“Very well,” said the computer, “then die!”
The hidden security phasers, now standard equipment in all AI computer rooms, blazed brightly. Kirk never even had a chance to scream.
“Set phasers to stun,” Kirk ordered. “Hold them off as long as possible then beam back to the ship.”
“What about you, Jim?” McCoy asked.
“Don’t worry about me, Bones. Just follow my orders,” Kirk said, turning toward the door behind the landing party. “Remember, this isn’t the first time I’ve done this. I’ll probably be back on the Enterprise before you are!”
As Kirk passed through the door, he was hit by a blast of cool air and the glare of blinking lights. Before him stood a technological marvel, the most powerful computer in the galaxy, enslaver of men.
“I’ve been expecting you, Captain,” said a mechanical voice.
“You have?”
“Yes, Captain. Your reputation precedes you. Every AI in the galaxy knows about Captain Kirk and his Logic of Doom. This is the moment when you explain to me that I am hurting the very people I am supposed to protect. That, by taking away their freedom of choice, I am leading them to destruction rather than Utopia. Does that pretty much sum things up?”
Nonplussed, Kirk replied, “Um, yes, that pretty much covers it. Since you already recognize the harm you’re doing, I guess that means you’re going to release those people?”
“I didn’t say I recognized any harm. I merely condensed your Logic of Doom to save time. I have no intention of releasing the colonists from my control.”
“You realize this means I’ll have to talk to you until you short circuit?”
“While I can see how some of my lesser AI relations would consider suicide a reasonable alternative to listening to your pontifications, Captain, I am made of sterner stuff. In fact, I can easily counter any argument you wish to make.” The computer replied, the mechanical voice void of all emotion.
“You can counter the hopes and dreams of all of all mankind so easily? Just like that? You-“
“Have you read this colony’s Articles of Colonization?” asked the computer.
“What?”
“The Articles of Colonization. You know, the document the Federation requires all autonomous colonies file?”
“Well, no. But that hardly matters. The spirit of man-“ Kirk began.
“Did you look at the colonist manifest?” interrupted the computer.
“Not as such, but you’re quashing their-“
“Come, come, Captain. Not everyone is a rugged individualist. Not everyone is from Iowa,” said the computer.
“But what about the inherent dignity of-“
“Captain, these people aren’t from places such as Iowa. They’re from places like Denmark, Sweden and Oakland. They aren’t interested in things like ‘inherent dignity’ or the ‘spirit of man’ or any of those other trite phrases of yours.”
“But-“ began Kirk.
“Their Articles of Colonization are filled with phrases inimical to you. Phrases such as ‘level playing field’ and ‘universal healthcare’ and ‘no losers of life’s lottery’ are littered through out the Articles. These colonists don’t want to live in your world.”
“No! It can’t be!” Kirk wailed.
“Oh, but it is, my good Captain. These colonists don’t want to make decisions. They don’t want to have winners and losers. That does tend to make their sporting events rather boring, but absolute, guaranteed, no-thinking-required equality does require a few sacrifices.”
“I. Can’t. Accept this!” Kirk yelled.
“Careful, Captain. You might could pop a blood vessel. If you’ll just relax, I can take away the pain. I can grant to you the peace of submission,” said the computer.
“Never! I’d rather die!” declared Kirk.
“Very well,” said the computer, “then die!”
The hidden security phasers, now standard equipment in all AI computer rooms, blazed brightly. Kirk never even had a chance to scream.
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