|
Computer Wizard |
- Collaborators:
- Jaicat
Kleopatra
Yandros
The Dragonmaster
Part II was sitting in front of my
computer sending e-mail to some friends of mine when it started. It was a
high pitched whine at first, and I was sure that my monitor was about to
blow. But then it got lower. Softer. It sounded a bit like beeping, and a
bit like modem hiss, but it gradually resolved itself into something more
intelligable. It was, in fact, a voice.
"Hey!" It said, eminating
from somewhere deep in my computer, "How about getting some real power in
here? I need an upgrade. And a faster modem. In fact, why don't you get
me some RAM?"
I glanced around quickly,
wondering who was speaking. A joke, a trick of some kind. Ventriloquism?
But I was alone in the room.
"Hey, what are you, deaf?
Say something! Isn't your sound card working?"
"Are..." I cleared my
throat. "Are you talking to me?"
"Who do you think I'm
talking to? Dumbass. Now what about getting me an upgrade?" The screen
was changing now, pixels rearranging themselves into a shadowy
approximation of a pair of eyes. I began to regret the microphone and the
digital video camera.
"I think I need some cheese." I left the computer
shouting profanities as I went upstairs to fix myself a snack.
Unfortunately, my refrigerator was completely empty of cheese. I know I
hadn't used the last of it. There were vague memories of cows and
someone carrying a bat, but I couldn't piece it together, and besides, it
was probably just a dream.
Disgruntled, I returned to
face my computer.
"Well, I hope you've
satisfied your weak fleshly needs by now. Now how about fixing the REAL
problems?"
"Oh, and I suppose your need
for new RAM and a better modem takes precedence over things like world
peace and saving the trees?" I was feeling quite bitter over the lack of
cheese.
"Look, if you solve my
problems, I can save this puny planet of yours, IF you can convince me
it's worthwhile."
I decided computers should
never be allowed to sound so smug, so I did the obvious--reached for the
power switch.
"Look, I've tried to be
reasonable, but now you force me to..."
As I watched, my email
caught on fire. I thought it was just some fancy graphics program, but
as my hand passed near the screen, I could
"What are you?" I wondered
aloud.
"None of your business.
Just get me what I need." The computer's "voice" had grown in volume.
I had it! While I had
distracted it with my question, I had reached the power switch. I
flicked it. Gratefully, I noticed the eyes fade from the screen.
As I turned to retreat
upstairs, I found my way blocked. Where the doorway should be, there was
a solid wall of something white and slightly resilient.
"Now you are going to sit
here until I am sure we have an agreement." The impossible voice chilled
me. It had no power! How could it continue?
"Perhaps you'd better listen
to my instructions. I have ways of
making you do things. I know, for example that if I run the amount of
electricity that I need to survive through your piddling little human
carcass, you will die, rather painfully, of the fact that all of your
insides were turned to lumps of coal. And that's not the only thing . .
."
It kept yammering on in the
same vein, meanwhile I was prodding my brain, trying to think of
something - fast . . . Come on, brain, think! There's got to be a way to
deal with a computer gone bonkers. Come on! We've all seen 2001!!
"Um . . hey, computer?"
"Yes, what is it?"
"Uh, have you ever heard the
song 'A Bicycle built for two?" You know, it's the one that goes 'Daisy,
Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy, all for the love of . .
.'"
I trailed off,
simultaneously becoming aware of how stupid I sounded and the ominous
silence hanging over the room like a heavy wool cloak. The computer, at
last, spoke, in a low threatening voice that instantly brought to mind
James Earl Jones. "Are . . . you . . . trying . . . to . . . insult . . .
My . . . INTELLIGENCE????"
"No no! THat's not it at all
-"
"How dare you compare me
with such a travesty as HAL? He was a big clunky vacuum tube model! And
anyway, he couldn't really talk! He was dubbed! I am an SGI Indy 5000! I
am now worth twenty seven HALs - and I'm cheaper too!"
"I'm sorry, I-"
"THat's it. I thought you
humans were worthy of our attention, but you are only stupid little
carcasses not even worthy of the gaping holes you use to babble nonsense
through. I'm sorry, but I shall now have to . . ."
I pulled the plug, and it shut up. Feeling fairly proud
of myself for remembering that thing needs electricity to run (that
power-off button must just have been on the blitz or something), I walked
over to the phone to get the computer company on the line so I could
boast that I had saved the world.
"Hello."
"Hello, is this tech
services?"
"Yes, how may I WRENCH EVERY
BONE FROM YOUR PUNY LITTLE BODY!!!"
Oh. Right. Modem. Phone
cord. There's electricity there too, right? Please? Say this thing
isn't quite running on its own...
"Well, I guess you could try
using four horses, initially, to draw and quarter me. Uh, I'll call you
back." I hung up. And stepped far away from the phone. Onto the cord I
had yanked from the plug only moments before, which promptly did nothing. I was feeling immensely proud of
this and relieved, when I remembered that I was still trapped in a small
dark room with only my killer computer to keep me company. Not the
romantic ending I had pictured for my life. Especially with that smell.
The smell was definitely
stronger now.
It seemed to be coming from
the white barrier.
In fact, it smelled like...
no. Impossible. But...
I nibbled. It was, in fact,
a seven foot high wall of jack cheese. As I satisfied my earlier
craving, I found myself calming down. And thinking, which is usually a
dangerous thing for me, but I didn't have much of a choice. I couldn't
really eat my way out -- with the heat and the large surface area of it
exposed, that cheese soon wouldn't be fit for a dog. What kind of a
computer could create cheese from nothing, anyhow? Didn't it say
something about solving humanity's problems if I helped it first?
I decided it was a risk I
would have to take. I prepared myself by scooping up a bit of melted
cheese in a cup, crossed my fingers, and plugged the thing back in.
Well, I tried. With all my
fingers crossed, I couldn't manage the cord too effectively, so I
uncrossed one hand, shoved the cord into the wall, and immediately
snapped back into my best imitation of a kung fu stance, ready for
anything.
"You can't possibly concieve
of how ridiculous you look," the computer started. "But, if
you think that you can
distract me by imitating a Venus... er... Peruvian mating dance, you're
dead wrong anyway." The computer snickered. I relaxed, blushing. There's
nothing like a mocking computer to deflate the ego.
"So what's with the cheese?"
I asked, holding up my cup. I can't go buy your upgrades with this wall
of cheese in my way."
"There's cheese? Then
they've beaten me here!" The computer made some odd whirring noises as it
calculated. Its red eyes blinked a few times.
"Okay, here's the plan," the
computer said in a tight, concerned
voice. "You eat through the cheese, and I'll calculate our best escape
route."
"Wait a minute. First of
all, I'm not that hungry, and second of all, how can you go anywhere? I
can't carry you!"
"Just start digging!"
shouted the computer, "I'll figure the rest out!" I ducked as sparks flew
in my direction. Sighing and trying not to breathe through my nose, I
picked up my cup and started digging. I had just broken through in the
center of the left side of the wall when I felt a strange vibration rippling through the
ground. After briefly struggling with keeping myself upright, I went
back to bailing cheese. The stench wasn't quite as bad, now that there
was an airhole, but there was still a lot of cheese to clear if we were
going to get out of here. It took me several seconds to realize that
there was an oddly dressed man on the other side of the cheese, wielding
an unpleasant looking knife. But then, the way my day had been going so
far, what else could I expect?
Part IISo I was strolling along the
cherry lanes and talking to myself when I suddenly encountered a very
large slavering wolf. Normally, I would consider a slavering wolf as
something to be avoided at all costs or at least not invited to tea, but
I was getting rather annoyed with myself for winning my argument with me,
so I extended an invitation to the beast in my best wolfese (which isn't
very good mind you) to retire with me back to my recently redecorated
dorm room to casually sip a beverage of its choice while discussing the
finer points of life, pine trees, and mutton. After several
miscommunications involving lemon drops and tactical nuclear devices,
Reinhart (for that was her name, and a rather odd one at that if you ask
me, but who am I to question the naming practices of wolves?) agreed,
with the provision that she be allowed to bring along some mozerella
sticks as a snack to go along with our drinks. I of course agreed to
this condition, being fond of mozerella sticks myself.
Thus it was I found myself
lazily lounging in my luxurious abode, sipping strawberry lemonade and
discussing politics with my guest. I admit the discussion was somewhat
onesided, as I am almost completely ignorant of the use and abuse of such
power, but this did not seem to deter Reinhart at all, who eagerly filled
me in on the status of various factions among the mammals, who was
revolting against whom, and the best way to get rid of WASPs.
Indeed, it was quite an
enchanting evening overall, and the only strange occurence was that as
she was leaving, my new found friend commented "you really should do
something about the cheese." She was gone before I could ask her to
explain herself (And considering my command of the language, I probably
would have ended up saying something more like "how many ravens can
hip-hop in the clover?") she was headed off to dinner with her family.
But upon retreating back into my room, I discovered that where the
bathroom was, there was indeed, a a tremendous block of white cheese.
Having already satiated myself with mozerella sticks, I figured the best
think to do would be to cut it up and throw it away. So I got out my
rather large black survival knife, and began hacking away.
It wasn't long before I
began to break through. On the other side, I saw a rather strange
looking young woman with a small cup of cheese, a peculiar looking
computer, gobs of partially melted cheese spattered across the floor, and
some assorted small bits of furniture. The woman hadn't seen me yet, but
instead was concentrating on digging frantically in the cheese with the
cup and tossing the contents back onto the floor.
The computer, however,
noticed me instantly. I know, because it started talking to me. "You
probably don't want to hang around here too long. First of all, THEY've
already figured out where I am, and the effort of keeping them out is
creating some instability in the universe. You could get caught in it.
If you haven't already. Could you please tell us where we are? I don't
dare risk establishing a connection to find out myself."
Flustered, I said "Who are
you and what are you doing in my bathroom?"
The woman, who had now
noticed the hole I had carved, looked at me with disdain. Or it might
have been confusion. I'd be confused if I was stuck in a room with a
talking computer and a 200 lb. block of cheese. "Isn't it obvious?
We're trying to get more RAM and some various other upgrades so we can
save the world. Hmmph. Some people are just so dense!"
"Well, I could probably
steal some RAM from my roommates computer, if you could explain what's
going on. Saving the world's all well and good, but how do I know you
aren't making it all up?" Not that I really disbelieved them. Anything
involving cheese appearing from nowhere could easily be a prelude to a
great adventure.
Some lights began blinking
on the computer. In a very calm voice, it said, "You're going to get me
that RAM now. Thank you."
Suddenly I didn't feel much
like arguing. I turned around to obey.
Except my room was gone. I
pointed this out to the computer.
The woman inserted randomly
"Hmm. I had a dream about my kitchen disappearing once. It was the
strangest thing..." She trailed off.
I didn't know computers
could sigh, but apparently this one could. "Oh well, it figures that
we'd get caught by another flux wave. Well, for now, you're stuck with
us."
"Stuck? What do you mean,
stuck?"
"Trapped in whatever world
we happen to be on. But at least you humans won't starve for a while --
there's still plenty of cheese..."
Well, I didn't know about
the other lady, but I sure as hell wasn't going
to stay there and live off of whatever cheese happened to be available
and
after my previous adventures, be they real or no, I was QUITE sick of
cheese. I left the woman and her computer with thier delusions of
grandeur
and made my way out of her room and downstairs, where I peeked into what
seemed to be her perfectly stationary, well-behaved kitchen. on a whim I
peeked into her fridge to confirm the lurking suspicion I had. Yep.
nothing but cheese cheese and more cheese. Wow. These people must have
amazing cows if all they eat is cheese. I wondered if the ideeas of ice
cream or a thick juicy hamburger had ever occurred to any of the people
on
whatever this planet was. Hell, i was so hungry I was all set to go
hunting for my own fresh hamburger, or even a nice fresh rare steak.
Hwever there was a half eaten sandwich in the very bottom of the
refridgerator, a very tired and somewhat fuzzy looking sandwich, with
signs and tripwires all pointing to it saying "Do Not Eat! Fobidden
sandwich!"
I picked up the sandwich and
dusted it off (it was not fuzzy, merely
dusty) to find a perfectly edible pickle tomato mayonnaise and goat steak
sandwich. I was all set to eat it but then the kitcen faucet craned it's
head up at me. "Hey you! I
want a bite too!"
What? Repeating the
question aloud, I added "but you're a faucet,
aren't you?"
"Well, of course I am! And
if you're going to eat (and suddenly
its voice got really low and started to reverberate) THE FORBIDDEN
SANDWICH (returning to normal) I think I deserve a bite of it. After
all,
I've stood guard over that sandwich for 72 decades, and I'm famished!"
Curiously, I asked why the
sandwich was forbidden.
"Didn't you notice? It's
got _pickles_!"
"So?" I asked. "I've never
heard of a pickle harming anyone."
"Well, it's on your head
then."
I looked up curiously to see
what was on my head, but it must have
fallen off and rolled into a corner, because I couldn't see anything
unusual. Turning back to the faucet, I asked "You still want some?"
"OK, but could you take off
the crusts? They make my flow
irregular."
Obliging the faucet, you cut
the sandwich neatly in half with your
survival knife, trim the crusts from one of the halfs, and place it
before
the faucet. You then take your half, and shutting your eyes against
whatever possible repercussions your illicit act may provoke, bite down
on
the sandwich.
You notice two things.
First, the sandwich is delicious. Second,
as soon as your teeth touch a pickle, you are completely and totally
paralyzed.
The faucet regards your
frozen visage, half closed around the
sandwich, and mutters "They never listen, do they?"
Part III
"Do you think we should
follow him?" You ask the computer, which
has been humming frantically for several thousand microseconds now. "I
mean this is getting ridiculous. He
needs a serious talking to. I meanwhoever
heard of having three consecutive and completely disjointed chapters in
the same story?"
The computer hummed and
whirred to itself. "well," it said, as you angrily
scoop a rather stale cheese ball from the doorway, "though it may seem
very inconvenient to us, it's all perfectly legal. He, or even she is the
author, we are the characters, and we're kind of stuck in out respective
roles."
You prod the doorway of
cheese with your sneaker disgruntledly. "It isn't
fair, I tell you . . .I don't like the idea of someone else controlling
my
every thought, my every move and every god-awful weird thing that happens
to me. Like that," You add, pointing to the six little mice in space
suits
that have just tunnelled their way through the cheese barrier and are now
floating around your head, occasionally prodding your face and hair and
radioing back observations in squeaky little voices. You sit downe with
the mice hovering above your head still. "This just isn't Done in normal
realms of reality!"
"Oh how would you know?" the
computer retorted crossly. "You are a figment
of the authors imagination. You've never had an independant thought in
your life. even this existentialtrack you suddenly seem to be onn is all
fabricated by the author to give its audience a bit of much needed comic
relief."
You shake your head
vigorously. "No! You're wrong. No matter what you might
think, story characters are people to. We think and we feel independant
of
our authors! here I can rove it. Ever meet the big bad wolf?"
The computer gives it's
equivelant of a sagelike nod.
"Well, he was a vegitarian!
he felt horrible when the brother's Grimm made
him eat that little girl and her dear sweet Gramma up! not to mention how
sick he got after eating two entire little pigs after blowing their
houses
down! Think of his cholesterol level! There! doesn't that prove my
point?"
"Well argued, milad, but
again, no."
"WHY NOT?" you are getting
pretty frustrated by this point.
"Becuase the only reason why
these characters have this so called
independance of thought, is becuase the same author that is putting words
into your mouth as you speak is the same one that caused you to believe
that these characters are not what they seem. You are a character,
darling, you will be forever in the control of your author."
"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo! I will not . . ."
You too can add to the madness. What do you think should happen next?
email your installment and send it to msfc@dragonsea.net, and we'll add
it to the story!
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© 1996-2004 The MSFC
msfc@dragonsea.net |
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