Waking up with a hangover was not an entirely uncommon experience, especially on days when I didn't have to go into work the following morning. I realized
something was different when my attempts to hide from the sun by curling back under the sheets failed. I didn't have any sheets to curl back under, and the
floor was nowhere near as comfortable as my bed.
Well there is a first time for everything. My attempts to blearily piece together what had happened last night where brought to an abrupt halt when rubbing my
face produced a soft 'clang'.
I stared at my hand in confusion for a few minutes trying to figure out what was wrong before my brain clued into what I was seeing. Two thoughts chased each
other around in the back of my head; it had to be a glove, because my hand doesn't have seams and hard plates. But it was too small to be a glove, it was
too small to be my hand. I ignored the strange kinesthesia that watching my hand move was giving me and rolled over to look in the mirror on the far wall. The
morning sunlight that had woken me up didn't hide anything. I was sprawled on the floor between my overturned chair and a few days worth of laundry. A body
that I looked strange and familiar at the same time in yesterdays clothes, too tight in some places and far to lose in other. I got up and stumbled over,
unable to stop myself from having a closer look.
My hand was not the only part of me that was different. My face was no longer flesh and bone, but instead metal and ceramic. It looked like something a
deranged swiss watchmaker would come up with. Overlapping panels and meticulous seams to mirror the planes of the human face. It did a disturbingly good job
portraying the mix of wonder, confusion, and fear I was currently experiencing. My hair was several shades lighter, and a now reached the middle of my back.
Once I got past the strangeness of my face the most prominent change came to my attention. My shirt was now tight across my chest, and not because I had
suddenly become Schwarzenegger-like in my physique. In fact I was rather shapely, for a female construct. The shirt came off with surprising ease; I had to
make sure I seeing what I thought I was seeing.
The sight of my bare torso should have made me feel something more than just a... slight engineering curiosity. The fine lines of interlocking ceramic and
metal plates formed curves I knew to be aesthetically pleasing. But I couldn't see the attraction to them myself, and I knew that a short while ago I would
have. The polished brass nipples made a faint 'tok' when I poked at them, but otherwise conveyed no special feeling. A small part of me wondered why
this should be a surprise. I was no Van Rijn, but I was close enough. My place had always been on the battlefield or planning room, not the bedchambers. Even
if Mistress Agatha has built in that option out of a sense of completeness.
My thoughts skittered away from finding out exactly how 'complete' I was. But I already knew, somehow, how everything was put together. Every cog and
wire, every motor and heat sink, every power supply and processing unit, it was all in my head. Every beautiful frightening detail of exactly how I worked.
That I needed to breathe to speak and expel excess heat, but not to live. That at my current operating level I had 8 days 3 hours and 17 minutes before I would
need to recharge my power cells or find a compatible fuel source. That bullets would harm me just as easily now as they did before, I would just take longer to
die.
I also knew that people feared the unknown, be it a spark's monstrous creation or a mechanical construct. This world was not home, where constructs like
myself were expected. Nor was it the Rouge Isles, where machine intelligence had decades of legal precedent and emancipation. No, true artificial intelligence
was just an idea here, and I had no desire to become the first legal test case.
But the fact that I was here sent a surge of excitement through me. Being cast across the dimensions once was a fluke, or at least surviving was. But twice?
Twice was the start of a pattern. And I fully intended to find out exactly how this pattern worked.
Following quickly on excitement's heels was Frustration. Frustration at once again loosing the powerbase I had meticulously constructed. Frustration at
lost resources and contacts. I was once again an unknown. But I could learn from my experience in the Rouge Isles, I was not going to simply go out and take
what I needed. It had been a hard earned lesson, but I understood the benefits of working within the system now. At least until I had gathered the resources to
circumvent it, and protect myself from any retaliation.
Long term planning on open conflict would have to wait though. I needed a better understanding of my situation: Was I alone in crossing over? What kind of
public reaction could I expect? Where could I safely have a base of operations? I wouldn't be able to answer any of those questions by standing around
topless in my apartment. A quick glance at the clock showed I had at least 3 hours before my housemates got back from work, enough time to scavenge what I
could and relocate somewhere safe. First things first; fire off an email to my boss saying that I'm not feeling well and will need to take a few days off.
Next: disassemble my laptop for the wireless card and power supply. It took longer than I had planned to kludge those two bits into a wearable package, but
after two and a half hours I had a relatively small box attached to my hip that could take standard 12 volt and allow me to connect to wireless networks.
Granted, I didn't have to time to build in hardware support for anything above the networking stack, so the rendering of web pages would still have to take
place in my head. A boring and tedious process, but one that could be automated with time and effort.
I stuffed the remaining parts of my laptop in my backpack along with my phone, and began rummaging for clothes. I ended up with a pair of pants that were too
long in the leg, a shirt that was tighter than I liked across the chest, and a pair of shoes that were still a little loose even after tightening the laces as
far as they would go. I finished off the ensemble with a hat and jacket, which didn't do anything about my face, but at least it would make me look
somewhat normal from a distance. Anything else I could come back for later.
I let my hair fall around my face, stuck my hat one my head, and headed out of the house. I knew where I was going, a house about three blocks from where I
was. It had been on the market since the housing collapse and there wasn't anyone currently there. I drove by it every day on my way to work and the big
lockbox attached to the front door was noticeable from the street. I walked around to the back of the house where fewer people would notice me looking in
windows. After a quick glance around to make sure I wasn't being watched I ported the six feet that would land me in the middle of the living room. The
third room I checked upstairs was what I was looking for, an office with small windows and access to the neighbors unsecured wifi. It wasn't perfect, but
it was good enough until I could gather more intel about what was going on. I sat down at the desk and plugged into the wall, giving myself a few minutes to
relax in the warm glow of an external power source.
I ended up spending most of the night browsing rfc-editor.org and taking apart and reassembling the remaining parts of my laptop. But by morning I had a second
brushed metal box attached to my hip running ubuntu. Oh sure it complained about a lack of a sound card, and I couldn't get video to overlay into my field
of view. But firefox rendered web pages just fine and that was all I needed at the moment. I gathered the few remaining useful bits from the laptop and
retreated into the attic, better to be safe than sorry of someone comes to view the house. After plugging myself back in I fired off a full systems diagnostic
and drifted off to sleep.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy
something was different when my attempts to hide from the sun by curling back under the sheets failed. I didn't have any sheets to curl back under, and the
floor was nowhere near as comfortable as my bed.
Well there is a first time for everything. My attempts to blearily piece together what had happened last night where brought to an abrupt halt when rubbing my
face produced a soft 'clang'.
I stared at my hand in confusion for a few minutes trying to figure out what was wrong before my brain clued into what I was seeing. Two thoughts chased each
other around in the back of my head; it had to be a glove, because my hand doesn't have seams and hard plates. But it was too small to be a glove, it was
too small to be my hand. I ignored the strange kinesthesia that watching my hand move was giving me and rolled over to look in the mirror on the far wall. The
morning sunlight that had woken me up didn't hide anything. I was sprawled on the floor between my overturned chair and a few days worth of laundry. A body
that I looked strange and familiar at the same time in yesterdays clothes, too tight in some places and far to lose in other. I got up and stumbled over,
unable to stop myself from having a closer look.
My hand was not the only part of me that was different. My face was no longer flesh and bone, but instead metal and ceramic. It looked like something a
deranged swiss watchmaker would come up with. Overlapping panels and meticulous seams to mirror the planes of the human face. It did a disturbingly good job
portraying the mix of wonder, confusion, and fear I was currently experiencing. My hair was several shades lighter, and a now reached the middle of my back.
Once I got past the strangeness of my face the most prominent change came to my attention. My shirt was now tight across my chest, and not because I had
suddenly become Schwarzenegger-like in my physique. In fact I was rather shapely, for a female construct. The shirt came off with surprising ease; I had to
make sure I seeing what I thought I was seeing.
The sight of my bare torso should have made me feel something more than just a... slight engineering curiosity. The fine lines of interlocking ceramic and
metal plates formed curves I knew to be aesthetically pleasing. But I couldn't see the attraction to them myself, and I knew that a short while ago I would
have. The polished brass nipples made a faint 'tok' when I poked at them, but otherwise conveyed no special feeling. A small part of me wondered why
this should be a surprise. I was no Van Rijn, but I was close enough. My place had always been on the battlefield or planning room, not the bedchambers. Even
if Mistress Agatha has built in that option out of a sense of completeness.
My thoughts skittered away from finding out exactly how 'complete' I was. But I already knew, somehow, how everything was put together. Every cog and
wire, every motor and heat sink, every power supply and processing unit, it was all in my head. Every beautiful frightening detail of exactly how I worked.
That I needed to breathe to speak and expel excess heat, but not to live. That at my current operating level I had 8 days 3 hours and 17 minutes before I would
need to recharge my power cells or find a compatible fuel source. That bullets would harm me just as easily now as they did before, I would just take longer to
die.
I also knew that people feared the unknown, be it a spark's monstrous creation or a mechanical construct. This world was not home, where constructs like
myself were expected. Nor was it the Rouge Isles, where machine intelligence had decades of legal precedent and emancipation. No, true artificial intelligence
was just an idea here, and I had no desire to become the first legal test case.
But the fact that I was here sent a surge of excitement through me. Being cast across the dimensions once was a fluke, or at least surviving was. But twice?
Twice was the start of a pattern. And I fully intended to find out exactly how this pattern worked.
Following quickly on excitement's heels was Frustration. Frustration at once again loosing the powerbase I had meticulously constructed. Frustration at
lost resources and contacts. I was once again an unknown. But I could learn from my experience in the Rouge Isles, I was not going to simply go out and take
what I needed. It had been a hard earned lesson, but I understood the benefits of working within the system now. At least until I had gathered the resources to
circumvent it, and protect myself from any retaliation.
Long term planning on open conflict would have to wait though. I needed a better understanding of my situation: Was I alone in crossing over? What kind of
public reaction could I expect? Where could I safely have a base of operations? I wouldn't be able to answer any of those questions by standing around
topless in my apartment. A quick glance at the clock showed I had at least 3 hours before my housemates got back from work, enough time to scavenge what I
could and relocate somewhere safe. First things first; fire off an email to my boss saying that I'm not feeling well and will need to take a few days off.
Next: disassemble my laptop for the wireless card and power supply. It took longer than I had planned to kludge those two bits into a wearable package, but
after two and a half hours I had a relatively small box attached to my hip that could take standard 12 volt and allow me to connect to wireless networks.
Granted, I didn't have to time to build in hardware support for anything above the networking stack, so the rendering of web pages would still have to take
place in my head. A boring and tedious process, but one that could be automated with time and effort.
I stuffed the remaining parts of my laptop in my backpack along with my phone, and began rummaging for clothes. I ended up with a pair of pants that were too
long in the leg, a shirt that was tighter than I liked across the chest, and a pair of shoes that were still a little loose even after tightening the laces as
far as they would go. I finished off the ensemble with a hat and jacket, which didn't do anything about my face, but at least it would make me look
somewhat normal from a distance. Anything else I could come back for later.
I let my hair fall around my face, stuck my hat one my head, and headed out of the house. I knew where I was going, a house about three blocks from where I
was. It had been on the market since the housing collapse and there wasn't anyone currently there. I drove by it every day on my way to work and the big
lockbox attached to the front door was noticeable from the street. I walked around to the back of the house where fewer people would notice me looking in
windows. After a quick glance around to make sure I wasn't being watched I ported the six feet that would land me in the middle of the living room. The
third room I checked upstairs was what I was looking for, an office with small windows and access to the neighbors unsecured wifi. It wasn't perfect, but
it was good enough until I could gather more intel about what was going on. I sat down at the desk and plugged into the wall, giving myself a few minutes to
relax in the warm glow of an external power source.
I ended up spending most of the night browsing rfc-editor.org and taking apart and reassembling the remaining parts of my laptop. But by morning I had a second
brushed metal box attached to my hip running ubuntu. Oh sure it complained about a lack of a sound card, and I couldn't get video to overlay into my field
of view. But firefox rendered web pages just fine and that was all I needed at the moment. I gathered the few remaining useful bits from the laptop and
retreated into the attic, better to be safe than sorry of someone comes to view the house. After plugging myself back in I fired off a full systems diagnostic
and drifted off to sleep.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy