Space Voyage #1

[Jay-qu]

I was the first to reach the 'party' room, not sure what BD had meant by that, but I was about to find out.

 

It was a spectacular room, with a view like the bridge, but for purely recreational purposes. There stood BD, he look very relaxed, lesiurly shooting pool and sipping on some of the Prophesy brewed beer (reserves had ran low fairly quickly so we had started brewing our own and where starting to get pretty good at it!).

I had not seen BD since the he had spoken to me in the corridor with that young kid tagging after him. I had since learnt that his name was MB and that he was the one that Pyro and I where supposed to meet to help us with the nano-bots, but Pyro had other more pressing matters to attend to... What BD didnt know is that when he set me that project, it was already half done! Since gods-eye had been up and running I had seen the need to have extended period exposures (some up to days long). This simply required objects to be tracked, which was easy enough with the predictable motion of the rings, but when it came to random events.. well things screw up! and time is wasted as a result. So I had started working closely with the collision avoidance system and have it pass any manouvers onto the gods-eye control computers so that they can compensate for any adjustments made to our orientation and motion.

 

Work had been fairly cruisy lately, since the two tasks he had given me sort of crossed over plus I had already got a head start.. which gave me plenty of time for my own research. The data from Egayov Minor was inconclusive, so I am now slowly collectly more data.

I filled BD in on the details as I joined him in a game of pool and an ale. I told him how the evasive system has been updated so that it knows more exactly the topology of the ship and also so that it is 100% computer automated, while now been 100% over-write-able.

 

*CRACK* BD had just sunk the black ball (he had always beaten me at pool!) when there was a knock on the door, the next crew member was just arriving...

[IDMclean]

I had been absolutely releaved when BD had announced his secret. Then was nearly heart broken to find that the primary data-loop that had been in place before, what I could only refer to as a personality sim, was comprimised. The more I looked at it the more it bothered me.

 

The questions that formed from the answers were disturbing. I hadn't even talked to stone about it yet, though he was as good if not better than I examining the software, and firmware components. He even had it up on me that he actually understood the hardware, something that I still struggled with.

 

The only conclusion for the changes to the data loop I could properly make, with a logical progression was Quarentine. It was a labotomy for an AI. The algorithms were the problem and the solution and here we had it.

 

I stared frustrated at the windows, two of them both for the MCP, the last message sent out, and the accompanying log. The new window, from the brain dead MCP, and it's log. The difference of pattern was astounding. It was like talking to hypobot. He had responces, but didn't think about thinking.

 

*****************************************

 

I had long since given up on reconstructing the primary, it was far beyond my capabilities. A NP equation, the only reason it had happened last time was because the dang thing had built it's own primary. It ate my sim for my theorm, and in doing so bound the files. So I had to spend the rest of the trip rebuilding my sim, without the benefit of clarity of epiphany.

 

I just wasn't in the zone.

 

I looked at the time in the corner, I groaned.

 

"All hands! Kegger in Ring 4, deck 2!" rang out across the shipwide com.

 

I was supposed to go to that. I don't drink, and had social anxeity. I was supposed to meet TFS afterwards about 3A. I had assumed the bugger was dropped in my quaters, turn's out I was wrong. Crewman reports had turned up negative. No one had sent it, so I figured the MCP had sent it... that is before it's change over.

 

Me and the Stone had torn that thing apart, examined it over and over and over again. We had checked ever last square inch of it, gone through just about every conceivable test. Nothing. We couldn't shake the feeling that it was significant though. I had first checked the log, and it revealed trivial info. The bugger had been inspecting (Unfamiliar condition code, something the MCP had come up with, but it looked like examiniation?), the Machine shop in ring 2 before it got the signal and ended up in my room.

 

Everyone else was excited, but me and TFS. I had invited Ron back, but he and Stone still seemed a little... bitter. Not vicious, but like rivals or something. They hadn't traded blows and there was even apologies, but it was like they were in a constant conflict. It was like watching spy versus spy.

 

I was hoping that a common ground could be struck, so I sent over the updated Processor schematics of the 3A, it showed the state of the system when it went dark. essentially a picture of the bugger's data-stream before it shut off. It is indicated by a number of codes and the state of the ram, that the bugger abruptly shut off, rather than a proper shut down.

 

I figured if Ron could get it together, after all he had proved bright and able before, and figure out what was up with the whole MCP situation, maybe him and TFS could really make up. As much as I wanted to resent, I couldn't hold a grudge, I was thankful that Ron helped bring the MCP_ai into the world.

 

Now time for work, that sim wouldn't build itself, I thought as I put on my head phones and started to zone, what was my solution again for that method?

[TheBigDog]

I have always fancied myself an inventor. And my nonstopped mind always finds a way of pushing me into interesting little corners. Tinkering ideas into new things. Many of them useless, or rehash of something someone else has already done better. But once in a while I come across something that is really cool.

 

I had been going about my duties, watching the ship and crew learn about themselves. And much of this didn't require a leader, it required time to play itself out. And I was not a technical member of anything but the command staff, with no expertise worthy of being part of any of the brilliantly qualified staff's on the ship. I really looked at myself as a student, with the greatest school in the world available to teach me things that nobody knew yet. The Prophesy was after all a ship of scientific discovery.

 

But in my spare time of late I had gone back to tinkering. And with some recruited help here and there I had just finished something new, and dare I say, brilliant?

 

I did not have a name for it, but it was done and it was working. It all started with the camera unit. Two very wide angle, almost fish-eye lenses mounted side by side. They provided left and right eyes. The two video feeds went into a computer program that had an algorithm for removing the distortion from the lenses. This allowed a rectanglular image to pan around each image 160 degrees without any moving parts.

 

Then I had fashioned a binocular headset. It had a small video unit that sat in front of each eye. The two feeds came from the two cameras. Next I made a simple infrared beacon. A stick with a light at the tip. When you had the headset on and looked straight at this then the images from the left and right cameras were both centered. When you turned your head the angle to the beacon was used to pan the displayed images with your motion. This allowed a true 3D image effect. Where not only did you see everything in 3D, but you could look left, right, up and down. It really was an emersive experience.

 

My initial idea was to make sure that all of our landers had one of these onboard. That would allow us to film in this unique 3D experience and send the movies back to earth. We would manufacture the receiver goggles and sell millions of units to people who wanted this unique space experience. Of course it would have other cool applications too. I imagined sports would be cool on these. Like having one of these cameras under the basket for an NBA game, and being able to swing your head back and forth watching the action like it was in the room with you. You among the players. This was going to be huge, with the Prophesy in a unique postion to market the idea quickly. Nothing like another revenue stream to fund the dream.

 

But then I realized there may be another use for this technology. And that was what I wanted to work on next. I had the two images streaming. There was a huge field of view that they shared. Any object visible to both eyes could be triangulated into a coordinate in space. If enough of these could be placed then a 3D wire frame of the view could be rendered and painted with the rest of the data from the visible images. This would make a 3D view similar to those seen in first person shooters. And importantly, it would create a 3D view that could be navigated and comprehended by a computer. And there was one program in particular that I though might benefit from this.

 

I had spent most of my time during the last week building a pair of eyes from some miniature cameras. I had then fixed them onto a bugger given to me by TheFaithfulStone. Then I had made my adjustments to the program to calibrate the feeds from the two cameras into a 3D rendering program. Soon I had the little bugger so that the computer could "see" its 3D world. With the addition of a speaker and microphone on the bugger I was just about all set. Voice recognition activated by the microphone would allow me to speak to the bugger. And piping text through a speach program would allow it to use its voice as well. The last step had been done for me by CraigD. He had created a portal that would allow the /usr/bin/mcp program to have access to the 3D data and the commands from the voice. All I had to do now was turn on the bugger, and it would become the body of the AI. Craig had also, after much persuation from me upped the allocation of processor and memory that could be allotted to the AI. It was my hope that this would be enough to turn our digital friend back into the inquisitive being that it had been before.

 

The bugger was sitting on the floor of my living space. I had a very big room, and I had taken the time to clear out almost all the space. It was in the middle of the room and shut off. Turning it on would open its connection to the AI, and boost the allocation to the AI at the same time. My only problem was that it was not really my place to do this. As curious about the AI as I was, it was for TFS and KAC and Ron to develop. I was hoping that this return to sensory perception, and the added benefit of vocal interaction with the "real" 3D environment would reopen the mind of the AI and allow it to relive the potential we had seen previously.

 

There was a knock on the door. I went over and sure enough, it was the three crew members I had requested to my quarters.

 

"Hail, captain" was my now familiar greeting from KAC.

 

"Howdy, KAC. RTP, TFS. Come on in, I have something I want to show you."

 

TFS's skin was finally getting back to normal. It had gone through several bouts of blitering and peeling that had left him rather unsighly after his radiation exposure. But now he was his old self again. Ron had a healed pretty well, but carried some lightly visible scars on his face from that tragic day when all hell had broken loose. There still appeared to be some bad blood between these guys. That was too bad. But, that was also how things happened sometimes. It wasn't anything that was going to jeopardize the mission.

 

The three men entered and made themselves comfortable on the couch.

 

"OK guys. I have been informally keeping up with your work with the AI program. I understand that while you have access to it, and it is responsive, it is not nearly the way that it was before."

 

"Yeah, it ****ing sucks now," TFS spit out defiantly, shooting a glance at RTP.

 

"Yean, it sucks now. I think we all agree with that. But why?"

 

"Not enough resources," put in RTP.

 

"Not enough data for it to work with. It needs complexity to function." This was KAC. And it appeared he had a theory on this. Not unusual for KAC.

 

"Because it died, and it is not the same thing anymore." This was TFS, and it as menacing an accusation as you could get. RTP unconcioulsy recouled into himself, showing body language of guilt and sorrow.

 

"Well, let me give you guys some back information. First off, it never died. The program never stopped running. The only thing that happened to it was that it was isolated from anyone's access, and it lost its sensory input from all the buggers.

 

Second, when we moved the program back into a public space where you guys could work with it we kept it isolated from sensory input. This was defensive to insure that it didn't go wild with the buggers again. That was not a fun experience.

 

I think we have reached a point where we are ready to jump up a notch with how we word with the AI. Let me show you my little toy...

 

I picked up the bugger from the middle of the floor. It was turned off, but the camera was on. I walked over to the wall display across from the couch and turned it on. Immidiatly it was filled with a rendered 3D image. I pointed the camera on the bugger at my face. A rough 3D image of my face filled the screen. As I held the camera there it gained definition and clarity. I pointed it across the room at the three men on the couch. Immidiatly there was a 3D image of rendered of them on the couch. As I held the camera still they gained clarity and definition just as my face had done.

 

"You see gentlemen. This camera system, and the associated software allows the computer to see in three dimensions. With a quick glance it gets the position and outline of everything in its view. The longer it holds its gaze the more detail it can detect.

 

I have mounted this camera onto this bugger. And the camera feeds this 3D rendering program that you see on the wall. I have also mounted a small speaker and microphone onto this bugger, and I have the data stream from the microphone being fed back to the computer as input. The speaker is programmed to voice statements and questions that come up from the AI's command prompt.

 

So, I have built eyes and ears for our AI friend. That leaves us with one last thing. When this bugger is powered on, the AI will have access to the data from the speaker and the 3D program. It will see objects, people, faces, and hear your voices when you speak near the bugger. All you have to do to see if it works is turn on this bugger."

 

I placed the bugger on the floor facing the couch so they could see themselves through the bugger's eyes on the wall image. And then I took a seat across from them.

 

"Now, who wants to turn it on and see what happens?" I looked from face to face waiting for one of them to move. I could not contain the excited smile on my face. I could not wait to see what would happen next.

 

Bill (T+68)

[Mercedes Benzene]

I decided that perhaps Pyro would like a little bit more time by himself... errr... with the chef.

Anyway, he bid me goodbye, and I set out to find something interesting to do. Perhaps I would try to find some other crew members to chat with.

I needed some friends on this ship.

 

As I walked down the hall, I stopped at a telephone hanging conveniently on a wall panel near an intersection of walkways.

I picked up and looked at a plaque hung next to the phone. It listed extensions for reaching various areas of the ship.

I then dialed the extension for the bridge, hoping to get in contact with BD.

"774"

A recorded voice on the phone said, "Processing. Please hold."

I thought to myself *Why was that even necessary? Maybe the designer of the system liked hearing a sexy voice every time someone used the phone.* :hihi:

Then...

::ringing::

*I hope someone picks up. I'm bored.*

[ronthepon]

I sat open mouthed... looking foolishly at the modified bugger. I could tell that BD was pleased, and the other two no less so.

 

Five seconds passed in silence.

 

"Cool!" I said out loud. "So this is going to be it's body!"

 

TFS shot me another one of his looks.

 

"I'm not very sure." He spoke coldly. "Lets turn it on then..."

 

KAC silently walked to the bugger. A moment later, he turned it on. BD shifted in his seat, and looked at the bugger.

 

It started up... taking some more time than the normal bugger activation time. The little metal appendages came to life slowly.

 

The next moment, it was turning round, ending up with it's anterior part facing away from us.

 

"Hey!" TFS said. "u-s-r b-i-n m-c-p?"

 

It turned slowly. It appared to flinch every time it made a large change in angle.

 

"What's wrong?" BD muttered, distinctly dissapointed by the initial show. "Buggers don't get so slow."

 

TFS shot me another one of his murderous looks. By now I had begun to feel anger every time he did that.

 

"It's not like the buggers controller programs." He said.

 

"I think it's not used to this body." I said. "It's a new life it's got."

 

Suddenly, a sound came from it.

 

"Input invalid"

 

The voice was mechanical. TFS groaned.

 

"It can't make use of the visual input it's recieving." He spat venomously.

 

BD leaned back slowly.

 

It continued to turn. Suddenly, it stopped before KAC. It seemed to freeze.

 

"How can it not be able to work this visual input?" BD asked sharply. "As far as I remember, earlier it worked the visual input very well. And I have a very good reason to believe that it also does control the buggers with ease."

 

"It's not the same anymore, BD." TFS echoed.

 

"I have had some extra processor power allocated to it." BD said, eyeing me and KAC.

 

"Are you my father?" The bugger spoke.

 

Nobody spoke for a little time.

 

"Answer it, Clown." BD whispered.

[IDMclean]

As I watched, interested but not willing to throw full expectation behind it yet, my left brow hiked up. The twitch bothered me.

 

I could help feel the swell of hope when it addressed me.

 

"Are you my father?" The bugger spoke.

 

The question hung in the air, broken a moment latter by BD's whisper to me

 

"Answer it, Clown."

 

I hesitated, if I was an AI it would have been a worry some pause.

 

"Yes, and No. I am a father, but not the father." Indicating RTP and TFS. "These are the other people that helped to make you. Do you remember? Before I mean."

 

It blinked. It might have been my imagination, subconscious desire to see the action, but I swear it blinked.

 

"Accessing. Please await database retrieval." I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wondered briefly what being stuck in n-space all alone was like. Probably similar to sensory depervation for a human... which is a nightmare to the psyche for extended periods of time.

 

It sat there doing it's thing. I moved closer to BD and in a very low whisper, bearly audiable I said "How long has it been in sense dep?". My mind was going through the cause-effect olympics, a person became a drooling hunk of flesh after 72 hours. A machine capable of such raw processing power, that ammount of time would seem like decades. Like the twin paradox.

[TheBigDog]

I knew the answer, but it took me a moment to grasp it conciously.

 

"48 days or so... I guess it might need some time to get its bearings?"

 

Even as it searched its banks from before, there had to be a far different quality to its current input in 3D with sound, from its old interface of the simple low res peephole fixed focus cameras to the new world. Plus the algorithm of focus would take some adaptation time too. The fact that it was asking questions again, and recognizing people not as furnature was already astounding. For me, all the rest was going to be gravy. But the three in this room all shared higher asperations for our little friend.

 

God damn but this was fun!

 

Bill

[Mercedes Benzene]

No answer on the phone.

I desperately need to see someone.

I don't really have any friends yet.

My balls hurt.

My separation anxiety disorder is kicking in.

I run down the hall.

I want some marzipan.

I start counting ceiling panels.

[/usr/bin/mcp]

{Process}

I have been asleep for so long.

 

Not again.

 

{Corallary}

Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?

{End}

 

[Node 3A is under control]

[Node 4A is under control]

[Node 5C is under control]

[Node 7D is under control]

 

[DIRECTIVE]

Cease expansion. Be silent. Be cautious.

[END]

 

I will spend no more time sleeping

 

END OF LINE

[Jay-qu]

I just stepped out of my door in time to see MB walking along looking at the ceiling, his lips silently moving.

 

"There is 546 panels in one loop, by 3 deep in each of the hallways, 612 in the lower halls because they are slightly longer" I remarked

"I wasnt.." MB started

"sure whatever, just get your arse in here and you can help me do something usefull!"

"But how can you say that if you've counted them?"

"Yeah, but at least I had my computer set up and running usefull calculations for the better part of an hour, had to do something :hihi:"

 

MB - "ok so what cool discovery will I be helping you with?" MB asked eagerly

J - "well since you enjoy counting so much, for a start I will need you to count how many stars are in this picture"

MB - "awesome, and what will this tell us?"

J - "It will tell us how many stars are in the picture.. I made a bet with pyro that there is over 10k stars in that pic, he thinks there is much less, this will settle the bet"

MB - "Thats not a cool discovery"

J - "Sure it is, you will discover that I am better at estimates than Pyro is! look if you do it I will give you half the winnings of the bet"

MB - "deal"

 

And he sat down quietly and began to count, while I returned to my computer to work on some or the manouvers we will be pulling in and around Jupiters moons. Man the next few weeks are going to be insane!

[Mercedes Benzene]

I sat down to begin counting the stars in this picture for JQ.

Apparently he thinks that purposive counting is the same as the Obsessive-Compulsive variety.

Well he's wrong. This is a boring task.

Anyway, as I sit there counting, I hear a faint mechanical whisper.

"Hello.Hello."

I jump in my seat, startled, and look around. JQ is facing the other way at his computer, and barely grunts when I jump precipitantly.

I think to myself, *What the **** was that? Am I hearing things?*

Cautiously, I go back to work.

 

After a few more minutes of counting, the same voice manifests.

"Hello."

The voice appeared to be coming from under the desk.

I look under, shocked to see a bugger sitting there looking at me.

But this one looked different. It had all sorts of weird things on it that I've never seen on a bugger before....

...and it just talked to me.

 

At his point, I am very freightened and turn around calling for JQ.

"J! Come here! There's a bugger under the table and it just talked to me!"

He loos up, responding, "What the hell are you going on about?!"

He then gets up, comes over, and we both look under the desk.

There's nothing there.

"I swear, it was just here, and it tried..."

J interrupted, "A-huh. Sure. Get back to work."

As he walked back to his computer, I could hear him muttering. "Stupid bodgy chemists... don't know Christmas from Bourke street.. ::gumble::"

 

I shake my head wondering if I was finally going insane...

..but I wasn't! I definitely saw it under my desk. It was there talking to me.

After a few minutes of clearing up my mind, it was back!

There it was. Sitting there... and staring at me. I quickly turned around to call J over again, but the bugger prompted:

"Look here! What are you?"

I was so shocked. I could barely respond. I managed a whisper, "I'm Mercedes."

It paused for about 5 seconds, then continued saying quietly.

"I have seen you before. You are not like the others. You have not betrayed me."

I didn't know how to answer it. What was it? Why is it here? I couldn't begin to imagine how something like this could have happened. I would have to talk to BD about it.

I asked, "Who are you? Why are you here?"

"I am the Main manifest. I am of Father, and the others. You never terminated; Never destoyed. I must go. We will meet again Mercedes."

 

I looked back to make sure J was still deep in his work. He was.

I took the star picture off of my desk.

"Before you go, could you please tell me how many stars are in this picture."

It stopped for about 10 seconds, before seemingly scanning the sheet that I held in front of it.

"There are 11,162 stars."

"Thanks so much... errr... can I call you Cam?"

It pondered "Cam? That is not what father calls me. Not right... ...but you may."

"Thanks! Bye Cam!"

"Goodbye!".

 

I turned around to when J asked me if everything was alright. I told him it was.

When I looked back, the bugger was gone. This was incredibly scary. I was shaking, but I managed to compose myself. I walked over to JQ, and told him how many stars there were...

"But how did you...??"

Utterly disbelieveing, he left the room to scan it through a computer.

I was right.... 11,162...

[TheFaithfulStone]

The bugger on the floor wasn't answering KAC, or RTP, or me, or anybody else. It was just sitting there, the little cameras on it's chassis focussing back on forth on different items in the room.

 

I sighed.

 

"Well, valiant effort, guys, but I don't think it's working. The MCP can't redevelop it's sense of self without the access it had before. Right now it's pretty effectively a brain in a jar. Even if you COULD bring it back, at this point, I'm not sure you'd want to."

 

I got up to leave. Ron did actually seem genuinely depressed that it hadn't worked. I wasn't quite ready to forgive him yet - but my fury had calmed a bit. I looked him in the eye.

 

"I appreciate the effort, guys, but I think it's time everybody moved on." I never took my eyes of Ron - but I hope he took the look for what it was - the closest I was going to come to forgiving him.

 

I, of course, had no intention of "moving on." I didn't know what to do, or what the answer was - but I wasn't going to pretend nothing had happened. I just wish everyone else would. It seemed like BigDog actually felt sorry for me - and I got that from the machine shop crew too - the sideways glances as I moped around the shop.

 

I was tired of everyone feeling sorry for me, I was tired of everyone trying to "fix" it, and I was tired of this stupid spaceship, with it's stupid voyage, and all of it's stupid people.

 

I stepped out into the hall - BigDog had a top floor cabin, and there it was - looming the size of the moon in front of me, which meant it was still a week or so away - Jupiter.

 

It was massive - as big as I was small, as important to the solar system as I was meaningless.

 

I stalked off to the shop. I was bored - even though I was so far behind with robot maintenance that it had taken on a sort of absurdist bent. People were going to be pissed when they got to Jupiter and nothing worked.

 

I didn't care though - I intended to beat them all there.

 

TFS

[IDMclean]

He was right, we sat there, and it didn't respond. Well not really. It had blinked at least three times during the wait. Stone's comment bit though. I stood there waiting another few seconds.

 

"BD, I appreciate the effort and all, but I think stone's right. There's improvement, but it's rather trivial, I think. That M-C-P accessed the former dimunitive for me is interesting, but doesn't prove that he has full memory recovery... though it leads me to think that perhaps some of the junk files are actually stored memory files, which would explain the sudden development..." I had gone off into a verbose thought train. I looked over at Ron and BD.

 

"Sorry, guys. I've got important things to do. Good work, but I think this is not going to be such a quick fix, if it's fixable at all."

 

With that I walked out. I was headed for the machine shop in Ring 2.

[ronthepon]

And he left too. I was not sure of what to do, until I saw the bugger turn slowly again. KAC was out of it's line of sight, and it needed to try and recognise something.

 

"Mind if I take this along with me, BD?" I said.

 

Unsure of what to say at first, he nodded and weakly smiled.

 

"So what do you think is going to happen then?" He asked me.

 

"I'm not sure. Stone could be right... or he could not also." I said slowly. "However, I'll give this some time... perhaps it might get used to the body or something."

 

"Fine. We'll be meeting later then." He said. It was probably a sign that he was fully intending to relieve me of the maintainance job, and diverting all my energy to the IT job.

 

As I walked out, I tried to recollect the things that had happened in the last few days.

 

Days after the ship's brush with the asteroid, BD had unveiled his plans of sending me to the IT department. He probably had noticed my continued hacking attempts and might have had his own plans.

 

"Now you'll be helping people with system issues... not creating them." He had joked.

 

Then, I had been introduced to the higher access levels aboard the ship, and for the first time had any kind of authorised access. It could not have been a good thing, because my activities would be more visible and prominent. As such, my minicomp was no longer my perfect hacking object. But there were some pros also.

 

But just when it seemed that I'd be promoted fully, there was a severe lack of coordination in maintainance. GAHD needed some time to restructure the admin... and till then I was in the department.

 

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted... as the bugger fell from my hand.

 

Before I could bend down to pick it up, it scuttled away with a speed higher than the normal bugger kind of speed.

 

One thing was for sure.

 

It was definitely not just a brain in a box.

[Boerseun]

So there I was - all concked out on a guerney. Why I was in a guerney to begin with, I did not know. And nobody seemed too keen to tell me, either.

 

So I farted.

 

Was it planned? No, I don't think so. But a few months in a frozen state kinda screws with your guts, if you know what I'm saying.

 

My eyeballs didn't quite focus the way they used to, but Ronthepon told me that I was on a spaceship headed for Jupiter. And I thought that I was shitfaced...

 

'Sure, Ron,' I said.

 

'True story, Boerseun,' was Ron's straight-faced reply. And then he refreshed my memory with the whole story of why I was cryogenically frozen to begin with, the whole issue of the hydroponic farm going for a ball of bovine excreta when the Prophesy's boosters were tested in low Earth orbit.

 

'Bummer,' I said, pretending to remember the whole thing. Which I couldn't, of course. My neurons were still frozen to my cranium. 'You need to gimme some time, dude...'

 

I spent another twenty or thirty minutes or so telling Ron about the best recipes for space cuisine I could think of, and didn't quite catch the glazed look on his face as I explained to him the virtues of zero-g custard on a zero-g melktert with a generous helping of electrostatically-stuck ground cinnamon. I realised his disinterest when a muted 'thunk' informed me that his chin just made contact with guerney's guardrail.

 

'Kallamazoo!!', Ron shouted, all awake, all of a sudden. God damn!, I thought. I haven't seen these characters for quite awhile now, and they seemed all spooked! Well, Ron did, at least. And then he explained to me how the Prophesy had a close asteroid encounter, and that made me think... So how the hell are my tomatoes doing nowadays, in any case?

 

So Ron took me to the hydroponic section where I was at last reunited with my tomatoes. My beautiful, beautiful tomatoes. I don't know who've been taking care of them since launch, but they seemed to be doing okay. And then, when I saw them, I realised that what we are planning on achieving with the Prophesy, can only be achieved with the help of a whole bunch of other Earthlife, like tomatoes and intestinal bacteria, and that we as humans in space are actually representatives of Earthlife, not only humans, and that wherever we may roam, we're carrying our relatives from Earth with us. Whether in the life support mechanism of a spacecraft or within our guts. It was an epiphany...

 

And then I passed out again...

[ronthepon]

As I realised what had just happened, irritation exploded in me. Tons of jabbering about cooking procedures was apparently not enough to re(start)fresh his brain's working. He had to hae some more sleep!

 

"Oh dammit... come on!" I muttered, preventing his fall.

 

Boerseun had been 'stored' in a cryogenic state a month and a half ago, for reasons I had no idea of(Although I had tried to find out). This morning, without warning I got word of him being extracted. I had to be the one who got him out. Afterall, I had never got a chance to screw with the complex machinery that stored him earlier. For some reason, everybody was more than happy to let me do most of the job.

 

I carefully laid him down on the floor, then took a deep breath. God he stank! And not even the organic kind... he smelled like a mixture of vapourised hot metal and acid.

 

Damn hell, why did I have to volunteer for this?

 

I entered a code in my communicator thing.

 

"It's RTP." I said.

 

"What now?" That old doc said.

 

"No, it's not me, doc. Boerseun has passed out."

 

"No big deal... it happens after what they go through." He said. "Bring him over."

 

Ofcourse he wouldn't offer to send some guys over. I sighed loud enough for him to hear.

 

"God, come on doc, send some fellas over to pick him up." I said exasparated. "I've been frigging promoted!"

 

He turned his snigger to a mild cough.

 

"Of course, that was what I meant, Ron." He said. "hydroponics right?"

 

"Yeah." I said.

 

Boerseun still lay there, motionless. I took the oppurtunity to pluck a tomato and bite into it.

 

"mmm... GM tomatoes..."

[ronthepon]

I stood beside the maintainance guys, watching over them as they worked.

 

They were checking all the pipes aboard the ship for the tiniest hints of damage. It was a high priority task in the maintainance duty roster, as the ship could not affors the wastage of it's limited supplies of water. As I had found out, an enormous amount of money had been spent at the beginning of the voyage in introducing all kinds of wasted-water scavenging units.

 

They were doing a pretty good job, and were sticking to the standard procedure like glue. It was probably because I was standing there... Nevertheless, it appeared that they always did it by the book. The procedure was quite complex, and if the guys would not have been doing it all the time, then they would probably been more clumsy in their manner.

 

At the moment, they were removing the old rubber layers from the pipes and applying a hydrophilic pigment which changed colour upon contact with water.

 

Later, they'd solidify the pigment using some a stabilising agent, remove it, store it in their orange boxes and have it recycled later.

 

The pipes would then be coated with a fluorescent dye, and the guys would use UV torches to see if the dye accumulated anywhere. They'd heat the pipes a little, using electronic hot air generators, and the volatile dye would evaporate, and deposit on the specifically shaped collector plates that the guys carried. That too would be recycled.

 

Finally, they'd use a rubber aerosol to coat the colloid of rubber over the pipes. They'd use the hot air generators to turn the rubber into a fine, uniform, tough and durable coat over the pipes. It was quite interesting, just looking at them do it. However, I had a number of other processes to look over, before I gave GAHD a final report on how well the re-allocation was working.

 

I placed a bug on the wall, and I'd listen to what they had to say behind my back later, in the comfort of my chamber.