Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Jul 27, 2022 15:14:16 GMT
XXXIV. The rest of the day was busy. Selecting targets and planning for the night’s looting, with all twelve locations under drone surveillance for the day. Perhaps he was developing paranoia, societal detachment could do that Cathal knew, but then again he was in the position of an infiltrator living in a potentially hostile society now. More equipment to be fabricated. He’s have three teams operating during darkness, managing six groups of scavenger robots over twelve sites, with a response team in reserve. One final run before he left.
He’d had Taif activate his ‘clone-sister’, Shamira, to run the house and grounds in his absence and Cathal spent over an hour going over processes and contingencies with the two AIs, their minds linked for speed of communication.
The communications monitoring that Taif had been running seemed to have picked something up; a couple of the detectives had mentioned interest from a department they referred to as ‘GUBU’ and a request for the forwarding of reports on. It might be, and indeed probably was, a nickname but there was no obvious police unit that wasn’t already involved; in fact the whole business was rapidly turning into a classic bureaucratic cluster-fuck, of the type Cathal knew well, as several geographical and specialist units jockeyed for information and credit for the affair. Certainly, the media was trumpeting the capture of several dangerous “known criminals”, the seizure of a trove of illegal weapons and stolen and smuggled property. Much braid was on display in the carefully posed photographs. He’d have Taif keep a metaphorical eye on matters.
Nearer to home, literally in fact, he’d decided to do something about a mess of builder’s rubbish dumped in the old railway cutting. A pair of ‘bots had dug a tunnel under the mass and the foxes were busy removing it. The location was difficult to spot (probably why some bastards had dumped their junk there) and an overhead drone kept monitoring the area.
The external sensors had noted a smattering of people interested in the house. A few bits of junk mail dropped into the post-box at the gate and some walkers on the riverbank had noticed the signs of habitation. The new security systems made the site a veritable panopticon. And a secure one, he hoped.
After four hours of intense study of the datastore, Cathal needed a break and some air. Accompanied by Cynthia he headed out for some shopping, he was hungry; the nanomachines still modifying his body seemed to have given him a craving for food. At least that was his excuse. One quick run through Aldi and he’d gotten a selection of groceries. And Cynthia could handle the checkout and carrying phase of the operation, leaving him free to walk the area and rested his brain.
Heading away from the town centre, with its shops and apartments, into the more suburban areas, Cathal let his mind drift, allowing his subconscious to examine his current plans. The only real concern that came to mind for his planned trip was being cut off from the house and Shamira but there was no-way to avoid this. The time capsule had no cross-temporal communications system and a message drone was impossible to construct without obtaining more chronon crystals or cannibalising the capsule. Not an option he wanted to pursue. Anyway, he’d be gone for a relatively tiny period of time; Taif’s safeguards required approximately twelve minutes between jumps, to avoid ‘temporal wake’. And Cathal didn’t yet have sufficient understanding of temporal theory to consider overriding this restriction. Yet.
He’d run over the plan for the trip with Taif, and Shamira, and was confident that all remotely probable contingencies were accounted for. Unless he ran into real trouble, of the sort that’s need a hostile time traveller to trigger, he could handle things.
Cathal shook his head irritably; he’d started to second-guess himself, a bad habit. Time to commit. A last round of scavenging tonight and he’d leave in tomorrow afternoon, refreshed and prepared. On a whim he returned by the road that crossed the old rail cutting and looked down at the rubbish pile, which has visibly diminished since he’d last seen it. He smiled at the thought of his vulpine minions at work. Right, time for afternoon tea. He crossed the road and set off home at a brisk pace.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 9, 2022 9:01:42 GMT
XXXV. As the world was darkening that evening Cathal prepared for the night’s operations; marshalled, ready to depart, were three dozen foxes in serried ranks, and the three androids who’d be doing the hands-on management. Beside them were the three flying platforms and four dozen collapsed storage barrels. Hopefully it’d be a quite and fruitful night’s work, with a sufficient stockpile of materials he could leave such jobs for a while and actually explore.
Just in case, the remaining platform and three androids would remain as a reserve.
The drones showed nothing concerning, either over the house and grounds, or over the planned sites for the night’s operations. Time to get to work.
Soon after dusk the scavenging team departed on the drop-ops, each platform carried twelve foxes and twelve collapsed barrels to deliver to the first batch of six targets. The second round would begin later; visits would be quick tonight, targeting the less common elements given the quantities of common materials in storage.
Cathal remained comfortably ensconced in his chair in the sub-basement, he monitored the console keeping an eye on matters but happy to allow the androids to operate without direct supervision. He was optimistic that the androids could manage things on the ground and that intervention from him would only be needed if something went wrong. In the mean time be communed with Taif and Shamira, using the direct neural connection to assimilate knowledge far faster than via reading, while he assigned blocks of information to be dumped to his implants, in case he needed them. The immersion in a world of high-speed information access was seductive and it was with a start that Cathal reacted when Taif’s soundless voice resounded in his head; “Alert. A problem may be developing at site five”. It took Cathal a few seconds to disentangle his mind from the threads of knowledge he was pursuing and give Taif his full attention. That was a little concerning he thought, and filed the matter for consideration.
Site five was one of the more distant locations for the night’s looting effort, a smaller local authority recycling facility about twenty kilometres from the house. Cathal ordered additional drones to the area and the response team to prepare for departure. Cathal realised that if he sent them immediately he’d have no fast transport to hand and checked the scavenging teams; Erin would be back in less than five minutes so he could take the risk and ordered Cynthia, Stevie and Emil into the air and Erin to increase speed. It’d take the trio only a couple of minutes to get to site five and he could follow quickly with any extra equipment that night be needed.
Cathal closed his eyes again and examined the video feed from the drone orbiting the site. A grimy but nondescript white van, a Ford he noted, had passed the facility three times, looping around. Taif replayed the earlier recording where two people in dark clothes left the van a distance away and took different routes to the sides of the location, skulking in shadows. Taif overlaid the cellphone calls they made to the driver of the van.
Bugger, Cathal thought, more metal thieves. He brought up the data Shamira has collated from the robots on site and realised the reason; there was almost a tonne of bronze, a few small and battered statues, in a pile near the gates. Suspiciously near the gates.
Cathal swore aloud, it was more satisfying that in his head. OK, this should be too tricky to fix. He opened a channel and linked to the four androids as well as Taif and Shamira. “We seem to have a trio of common metal thieves targeting the bronze in site five. We are going to allow them inside and then stop them. Cynthia, as soon as they’re inside the fence stun them and keep them unconscious for an hour or so. By then the site will be cleared of anything we want. After that I want you to force feed them some alcohol and drive the van away. Crash it a couple of klicks away and leave them there”. Cynthia acknowledged the instructions and Cathal got up from the chair, stretched, picked up a couple of bottles of what might charitably be called ‘rum substitute’ and went up to join Erin.
Site five was a fairly typical example of such, a metal fence surrounding little more than a half-hectare of open ground and sheds. The office was sturdily built and well locked but the sheds were easily entered. Cathal wasn’t sure why he was even here, except for a touch of cabin fever and a desire to be doing something; really the operation could have been managed remotely. He sighed aloud; he’d always had problems with delegation. Cathal watched approvingly as Cynthia dosed the three men with the brownish spirit, getting it down their throats and ensuring their blood alcohol would be suitably high. The amnesic would ensure their memories of the half-hour before they were stunned was gone and hopefully it’d appear that there were merely drunk idiots. The CCTV recordings of the facility would show absolutely nothing strange, including their entry.
Forty eight minutes later the site was cleared to his satisfaction and the booty was flying back home, with Erin and Stevie. Cynthia loaded the men into the van, added the bottles, and drove out. She’d already selected a suitable site for the staged crash, a corner about one and a half kilometres away. With the driver in position for verisimulitide, and belted in, she operated the van’s controls with pieces of morphic metal from behind the driver’s seat.
Cathal watched the impact from about ten metres overhead, not too fast, he didn’t want to kill these idiots, but sufficient to wreck the van and attract attention. Cynthia hopped out, closed the rear door and grinned. Emil dropped the platform to four metres and dropped the shield as Cynthia jumped upwards, through the camouflage and landed with the grace of an Olympic gold medallist.
Cathal laughed and ordered Emil to take them home.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 9, 2022 21:56:40 GMT
For those reading, thank you for your patience.
XXXVI. After their return, the rest of the night went smoothly. No nosy neighbours, petty thieves or inquisitive police were to be found at any of the targets. In fact, everything went very easily. This worried Cathal; he was that sort of person.
However, despite her forebodings, the sky refused to fall and, after every one of his minions was safely back and the night’s booty stowed, Cathal decided to rest. Before sleeping, he started to analyse his one state of mind. Was he deliberately avoiding the time-jump? Was he over-preparing? Fuck it, tomorrow would be the day he decided.
Six hours later Cathal awoke, refreshed and in a better frame of mind that he’d been in for days. In fact since he found the machine. In the sub-basement he called a council of war. He outlined the plan as he saw it; a quick jump to 1716 to investigate the cache that Finlet had left there, establish a reserve base and practice operations under fairly benign conditions. No-one gainsaid him, but then he hadn’t expected anyone to do so; Taif and Shamira were still pretty limited in initiative and the androids lacked the references.
He compiled an equipment list; two of the androids (Cynthia and Emil) would be coming, along with four utility ‘bots, a dozen spiders and as many drones. In addition, a range of survival supplies, shelter and consumables, the small fabber, security systems and more. By noon, Cathal had prepared his inventory and loaded it aboard the capsule. He hadn’t neglected information; he’d had Taif plunder the world’s electronic resources for details on the period.
At 12:30, Cathal spoke aloud, “Taif prepare for time jump to selected destination. Initiate on my command”. “Compliance. Temporal trajectory is prepared and all systems are functional”. Cathal took a deep breath, looked around the crowded capsule and gave the order, “Taif initiate time jump”. “Compliance”. The world outside ceased to exist.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 10, 2022 10:05:40 GMT
Only thirty seven parts in and there's some actual time travel...... Also the longest update so far.
XXXVII. It was paradise. Cathal detested it.
A sort of paradise really, from the more stereotypical ‘desert island’ film setting really; below the hovering capsule there was a beach, a long stretch, more than a three hundred metres, of golden sand. The weather was sunny and pleasant, almost idyllic in fact. The beach was narrow, on part of the edge of a small, almost circular, cove filled with clear blue water, surmounted by rocky cliffs. It was a cliché.
Naturally Cathal was suspicious; it seemed to be far too much of an idyllic stereotype to be true. Also, he preferred cool and temperate weather with less beating sun. Oh well, paradise would have to do.
According to Taif’s navigational system the beach and cove were on a small islet, not even deserving a name, which was part of the Antilles group of islands in the West Indies, between Florida and Cuba. One of more than seven thousand such islands in that part of the Caribbean. There was no radio traffic detectable, which wasn’t surprising for 1716.
Cathal examined the video feed from one of the spread of drones that was surveying the islet. Currently he was seeing (via his implants) the cove that led to the beach outside. It was a rather unusual feature, he thought, a narrow passage between the high, flanking, cliffs that connected the cove to the ocean beyond. Almost nine hundred metres long and around twenty five wide, though some spots narrowed to barely twenty, and there were a couple of slight bends to complicate passage. He was no sailor but had known a few and suspected that a competent helmsman would have little problems in a small sailing craft; a motorboat would find it trivial.
The whole cove was almost enclosed by rough stone cliffs, sandstone according to the drone’s sensors that ranged up to eighty metres high. The cove itself was eight hundred metres long, and more than three hundred wide. Beyond the cliffs was a plateau that made up most of the island, until it tapered to more rocky cliffs on the east of the island. The whole place was barely six square kilometres in size.
A general survey of the island showed plenty of life; so far none was human but there were multitudes of birds, plenty of New World monkeys and a few pigs. The water appeared full of fish, but nothing larger. Cathal had encountered a couple of sharks in his time and was less than eager to repeat the experience.
The cache set up by the late Operator Finlet was on top of the cliff where a gap in the sandstone allowed a stream a few metres wide to cascade down to the beach and ocean. There were caves there and signs of habitation.
“Alert. Anomaly detected”. Taif’s voice broke into Cathal’s silent introspection. “What sort of anomaly Taif?” “A number of anachronistic artefacts have been located”. “Are they separate from Finlet’s cache?” “That is impossible to be certain about but with a high order of probability. The objects are of synthetic materials and processed metal not known in this period but less sophisticated than from this capsule’s home”. Cathal brought up the drone feed. Near the northern end of the beach, where it rose somewhat to form a grove of palm trees, watered from a small stream that trickled down the cliff side, someone had made camp. There was a plastic structure there; he thought it was a life raft of some sort as well as a number of crates and boxes. A few of the trees had been felled as well.
Cathal felt suddenly relieved, paradise wasn’t as empty as it seemed. A small mystery in fact. “Taif bring the capsule to Operator Finlet’s site and land there to unload. Have the drones continue their examination of the island but deploy three armed models over this site and that of the anomaly”. “Compliance”.
Twenty minutes later the capsule was much less cramped; the cargo had been landed, the androids and robots were deployed and work was being done, albeit quietly. The utility ‘bots were assembling things and preparing a comfortable camp. The robot spiders were crawling around connecting things, eliminating bugs and evicting any real spiders. Camping, Cathal thought, is often a cold, wet and miserable way to die. He planned to avoid such inconveniences.
Finlet’s camp-site was well chosen. A flat clearing about twelve metres by five, below the level of the cliff and sheltered by trees. About fifty metres on, and twenty up, was a small spot that overlooked the beach and cove. The stream flowed about sixty metres below and supplied potable water. In the sandstone a number of caves had been worn naturally and these had been modified with power tools for better habitation. In fact the site looked like it had been modified several times. Cathal rather doubted Finlet was the only person to use it, a thought that suggested a degree of caution would be wise.
So, decision time, Cathal thought. Check the site or example the other camp. A minute later he’d marshalled his forces. Cynthia would accompany him on the scooter while Emil would be dropped off to provide support. Cathal recorded a spot near the time capsule in the transmat’s memory and enabled the deadman function. He wore an exploration suit, constructed of the advanced morphic materials of the fifty-second century and effective against a range of projectile and energy weapons. He carried a sidearm openly, and other weapons concealed, plus a small backpack. Cynthia and Emil had longer ranged weapons, and the drones had stunner and grenades. Probably over-kill, Cathal thought but also probably better than being under-prepared. “Taif, we are heading over to investigate the anomaly. Maintain surveillance and feed anything off to me immediately. Be ready to redeploy on my command”. “Compliance”.
About fifty metres from the campsite Cathal dropped from the scooter a couple of metres above the beach, letting the synthetic muscles of his suit absorb the impact. He straightened up and stated walking, senses alert. Passing into the grove of trees, he considered the selection of the site and approved; not as good as Finlet’s choice but not bad. The trees provided shelter and camouflage and there was a ready source of fresh water. The cliffs behind helped shelter it, and made an approach from that direction almost impossible
The camp was actually in a small depression within the trees, almost circular and about seven metres across. There was a fire-pit, enclosed with a circle of stones, a supply of dry firewood was stacked neatly in the sand under a tree and protected by a plastic tarpaulin. Several sturdy plastic boxes seemed to hold camping supplies according to his scanner; one shaded and half-buried in sand wetted by a diversion of the stream was a food store. A couple of drums held water; there was even a camp shower set up outside the main camp. Cathal rather liked it, efficient and organised, though not his choice of location. At least not voluntarily.
The almost circular plastic structure was indeed a life-raft, a six-person inflatable hexagonal model of the type recommended by SOLAS. However, it didn’t seem to have been dragged inland from the water and the carrying bag was tied nearby. Cathal rather thought it had been used as a pre-fab shelter, not an escape craft. He’d heard of someone doing that at a music festival, rather than erecting the usual tents. He strolled around the camp, avoiding disturbing it much; there was no need to be intrusive and it did not seem like the site’s owner was a threat to him.
Cathal had just decided to return to his own camp when Taif’s ‘voice’ sounded urgently in his head. “Emergency alert. Temporal incursion detected”. It seemed like he was going to meet another time traveller after all.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 10, 2022 19:10:11 GMT
This part could be called 'An Unexpected Update'...
XXXVIII. Cathal reacted quickly. “Taif where is the new arrival, can you get drone coverage?” “The intruder has arrived approximately one point five kilometres north of your current position. A single human female has been detected operate a small surface vehicle. Drones are being redeployed for coverage”. “Monitor her progress and scan for weapons and other potential threats”. “Compliance”.
Cathal felt that ‘intruder’ was a trifle judgemental; really the newcomer had as much right as he and Taif did to be here, but Taif was still programmed with certain values. OK, one and a half klicks north, she’d be on the beach. He took the small scope from his backpack and scanned the beach with its nearly miraculous optics. In a few seconds he had located the vehicle and its operator.
Cathal was surprised. When one thought of mobile time machines, one was drawn to sleek space-craft, the hovering time-cycles of the Time Patrol film and television series, the Omnitrope stolen by Professor X with its near-infinite interior, the sleek saucers of the Terminator cyborgs. One did not immediately think of a delivery trike.
But, nevertheless and despite reasonable assumptions, that was what was travelling down the golden sand of the beach. And travelling rather fast. Cathal focussed the scope and increased the magnification. The trike was larger than such things usually were, with the driver, or operator or pedallist or whatever they were called, shrouded by plastic panels. The rear was, well it was a box, rather more than a cubic metre he estimated.
“Taif what have the scans shown?”, Cathal was surprised he had to ask. Usually the AI was more proactive. “The intruder has a sensor deceiver in operation which prevents detailed scanning. A number of energy sources are detectable as are the characteristics of chemical explosive propellants”. Hmmm, so she was armed and careful, and had access to technology that could block Taif’s capabilities. That was mildly concerning, probably more because he’d becomes used to near omniscience. She could have escorts invisible to Taif’s sensors in the way he had Cynthia hidden.
Nonetheless, Cathal felt more excited and interested than concerned. He paused for a moment’s introspection. Yes, he was actually feeling happy about this encounter. Was it the possibility of someone to talk to? Someone who obviously had some knowledge of time travel. Or was be happily anticipating social contact? Maybe he had done too much messing with his brain.
Cathal stood up, concealing himself behind a tree, that really was enough self-analysis. Time to make a move. “Taif is the visitor within stunner range of the drones?” “Four drones currently have her in their targeting envelopes. Two others have stun grenades available”. “Cynthia, Emil, do you have her covered?” Both androids acknowledged that they did. “OK, no-one is to fire unless I say so, the visitor displays obvious and serious hostility or she appears about to use force. Even then, she is only to be stunned unless that is impossible. Does everyone understand?” The order was acknowledged.
Cathal raised the scope again, not really necessary given the drone feeds but he still preferred to use his own eyes. The visitor was about six hundred metres away and approaching at a fair clip, or just over five metres per second as the scope’s computer determined. Two minutes to contact. He examined the vehicle in the scope’s magnified image; it was fitted with wide tyres, probably low pressure given how well it moved on the sand. Cathal saw the face of the visitor, a rather young woman, probably in her mid-to-late twenties, mixed Caucasian and Asian features, tanned skin, short dark hair, probably taller than him given her posture over the pedals. He couldn’t get a handle on her general build though Taif’s drones could probably tell him her blood type and cancer markers.
Cathal grinned and released the scope, he was the most relaxed he’d been in months, as he walked out from the grove of trees into plain sight on the beach. He raised a hand and waved to the woman approaching him. Then he stood there, mildly regretting not bringing a folding chair for the correct air of insouciance that seemed appropriate for the situation.
The trike slowed slightly but obviously in his enhanced vision. Ninety seconds.
The sceptical, untrusting part of his brain piped up and asked if this was really a good or sensible idea. Cathal ignored it; was time travel ever sensible? Seventy seconds.
Cathal made a last sweep of the video feeds from the drones and androids and checked their sight lines. Just in case. Fifty Seconds.
He felt his chest tighten and his body tense. About two hundred metres now, he could see details of the dints and dust on the trike’s shell quite clearly. Thirty seconds.
Cathal waited; keeping his arms behind his back had been sensible, he was getting twitchy. Twenty seconds.
Ten seconds. The trike slowed.
About twenty metres away the trike stopped, the occupant opened a side panel and exited. She was about 1.7 to 1.75 metres tall, with an athletic, even sporty, build. She was dressed in khaki cargo pants and a multi-pocketed vest over a plain white t-shirt.
And she was quite pretty. Cathal felt his usually controlled sex drive stirring and suppressed a grin. This would be a rather inappropriate time for his libido to kick in.
The woman walked over, halting about three metres away.
“G’day mate, how’re things going?”
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 11, 2022 9:55:11 GMT
And the sudden burst of productivity continues..... Be aware that I may be revising older parts slightly as I've noticed a few errors.
XXXIX. The Encounter. Cathal avoided laughing, by dint of some effort, but smiled involuntarily. The woman had a broad, stereotypical, Australian accent. Had he landed in cliché island? Then again, she was a time traveller, and seemingly an experienced one. Caution was indicated. And introductions.
“Good day to you. My name is Cathal and I’m a time traveller also. I like your trike”. OK not the most eloquent introductory speech but he wasn’t a chatter. The woman was smiling, though her body language was wary, Taif helpfully overlaying details of tenses muscles and hotspots on Cathal’s vision. Evidently her sensor jammer was in the trike and out of range. The same overlay showed she was carrying five weapons in addition to the visible knife sheath. She was pretty too Cathal thought, but Taif hadn’t analysed that aspect, yet, but no doubt he could.
The woman grinned and spoke, “Hi! I’m Emily and yep, I’m not from around her either. Are you a friend of Danny?”. That rocked Cathal; she’d figured he was connected to Finlet, whom she seemingly knew. How did she know? Was the ‘Danny’ just classic Australian casualness? Or was there a deeper connection? Was she really alone?
“I’m afraid I never knew Operator Finlet. He was long dead when I, ah, inherited his time machine. He’d been shot by a Scouser in 4967 and suffered fatal injuries”.
Emily rocked back slightly at the news; all the classic signs of surprise, shock and grief were noted by Taif’s overlay. “Ah bugger”, she said, and kicked at the sand a couple of times “I didn’t know him well, met him a couple of times but he was a good bloke”. Her Australian accent had gotten thicker.
Cathal spoke, “May I suggest we get out of the sun and talk? It’s a little hot out here for me”. “Good idea, I should be wearing a hat too, excuse me”, was her reply. She walked back to the trike and reached inside. Cathal tensed momentarily but Emily took out just a wide brimmed hat and a medium sized backpack. As she walked back to him Taif’s overlay flagged the backpack with a rainbow of colours and queries. Hmm, something odd there.
The two of them walked over to the trees and Cathal relaxed as the shade interrupted the hot sun. Emily looked at him and grinned, “You should wear a hat. Avoid heatstroke”. “You are quite right. I’m not really an outdoor person”, Cathal replied.
Her campsite was shady and cool, the temperature difference very noticeable. She went over to one of the storage boxes and opened it, taking out an object that she unfolded into a camp chair and handed to him. “Here, might as well be comfortable”. “Thank you”. Cathal took the chair and placed it on a flat piece of ground before sitting down. The paranoid part of his brain chimed in; was she being friendly, or attempting to lull him into relaxing. Cathal ignored it.
Sitting down herself Emily opened the backpack and took out a water bottle, offering it to him. He waved it away and she drank deeply before sighing. “A pity about Danny. Do you know what happened?” she asked. “Not really. Taif, you know his capsule’s AI?, wasn’t present but when Danice returned from a meeting in Scouse he was injured, shot by a neural disrupter, and dying. Taif wasn’t able to save him”. Wasn’t able to save him because of his programmed lack of initiative, Cathal omitted. “Bugger. A nasty was to go” was all she said.
Emily seemed to shake off her grief and looked over at Cathal. “So who are you? You’re obviously not one of his people, and you’re definitely not a Scouser, when are you from, if I may ask?” “You may. I’m from pretty much the same period as you I suspect, the 2020s. Europe not Australia. I was in IT for many years but got rather sick of it, and the people. I stumbled over the time capsule and Taif accepted me as it’s operator”. She started, “I’m surprised Danny’s machine didn’t have better security. I was never inside it but it seemed pretty advanced”. “So was I actually. I think it’s a cultural thing with his home period; they don’t like artificial intelligences with too much initiative. Anyway now he works for me, more-or-less”. Cathal omitted a few details. “The machine seems pretty sophisticated but then I have few real references to judge it by. Except the Omnitrope of course and it’s not nearly as capable as that”.
Emily grinned. To Cathal it seemed that the expression suited her. He wondered, am I getting emotionally involved? Falling for someone I’ve just met? He thought to himself, “Am I developing a crush?” Taif’s voice spoke inside his head “You are showing the usual signs of emotional connection and sexual arousal”. This acted as a dash of ice water; “Taif please stop analysing me, unless my responses are outside human norms”. “Another Professor X fan then? Glad to hear it”. Emily was visibly relaxing. Was Professor X fanhood some sort of introduction or club for time travellers? Cathal dismissed the notion as silly.
Emily replied, “Well as you’ve probably noticed I’m an Aussie, from 2031 originally, and I picked up a Vortun from my great-aunt’s estate about a year ago. She’d met a Time Agent, a renegade of course, back in the sixties and travelled with him ‘til he was killed. She settled down and left her diaries and stuff to me”. Fascinating, Cathal thought. A whole community of time travellers. He knew of the Time Agency, though it was defunct by Finlet and Taif’s time. It was notorious for recruiting the kind of people who went rogue and disappeared. The Vortun was their favoured time machine, a pocketable gadget that generated tunnels through time. A hot item on the black market, Finlet’s journal has said, and impossible to duplicate with the technology of the fifty-second century.
Cathal responded, “This is actually my first trip through time. Finlet’s diary said he’s left some equipment here and I was curious”. Emily grinned at him, “Gotta pop that cherry sometime”. Cathal lost it momentarily and started laughing, her enthusiasm was infectious. Perhaps some sort of psionic influence? Was she manipulating him? Again he dismissed the paranoia.
He replied, “Yes indeed. I’d spent a while setting up a base of operations back home but I fancied a field trip”. “To the Caribbean in pirate time? That seems an odd choice”. “Well I was following Finlet’s trip back here, and it was as good as anywhere. Not exactly teeming with people, or important history that could be altered”. Emily nodded, “True. It’s quiet here. I like it. Never seen a ship navigate the channel, though there are a couple of wreck near the sea entrance” Cathal filed that titbit away, maybe a little diving? He had a sudden impulse and spoke. “Do you dive Emily? I haven’t in a few years but those wrecks you mention might be a chance to get back into it”. “I’ve snorkelled and done a bit of SCUBA”, was her reply. She sounded interested. “A plan for the future then”.
Cathal stood up and spoke, “Well as you’ve shown me the hospitality of your camp it behoves me to reciprocate. Would you like to visit mine?”. Emily looked at him for a few moments and then grinned again, “Absolutely. I’d be delighted”. “Excellent” Cathal thought, a little reluctantly, about the walk.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 11, 2022 21:38:21 GMT
The burst continues.
XXXX. As Emily fiddled around in the back of her trike, which Cathal noted appeared to be absolutely stuffed with camping equipment and a range of unidentifiable objects, all neatly sorted, she spoke; “You know we don’t have to walk if you don’t want to”. Cathal was dubious, “I don’t think your trike, cool as it is, is really a two person vehicle”. Emily turned to face him and folded her arms. “I was referring to your little anti-gravity thing. Surely it can accommodate two?”
Cathal was flabbergasted, a state of mind quite alien to him. She did have some assistance, but subtle. Ah. He thought quickly, “Taif are my implants detectable to the capabilities of the drones or the handheld scanner?”. “No operator. Only a detailed, close range scan would reveal them as they are composed of the same materials as the human body”. He looked at Emily, who was obviously working to suppress a grin and grinned himself. “A definite point to you Emily. And the scooter can easily carry seven”. Cathal issued another mental order to the AI, “Taif carry out a high resolution, active, scan of this area, say a hundred metre radius. Ignore the usual emission restrictions and report”. “Compliance”. And a couple of heartbeats later, ”Operator, a shrouded object has been detected approximately fifteen metres away from you and the intruder. It’s exact nature cannot be determined due to a very effective sensor shroud but it’s approximate mass is twelve kilograms”. He really must have Taif stop calling Emily “the Intruder”, it was a little melodramatic. Cathal gave Taif his instructions, “Have one of the drones take up station a half-metre from the object”. “Compliance”.
Cathal watched Emily carefully; her self-control was good, excellent really, but his enhanced vision showed her disconnecting slightly as she communicated with her companion. He grinned again, “What’s you little friend called? And where did you pick it up? It’s annoying Taif with the quality of its stealth”.
Emily looked at him and grinned, a little wryly. “He is called Gamekeeper and I picked him up in the Fifth Imperium era, 4682 to be exact”. Cathal noted the pronoun emphasis. “Well we’ve both got our backups, even if they’re not quite out in the open. I suppose I should be the first”. Cathal tapped the comm on his wrist and spoke “Cynthia de-cloak and come down here please”.
Emily’s eyes widened as the little scooter appeared beside her and the lithe android looked at her, one hand unnecessarily on the control console. Cathal admitted that Cynthia was an interesting sight, projecting an aura of controlled power. The slung carbine probably helped too. Cathal made the introductions, “Emily this is Cynthia, an android I created to assist me”. He did not mention the others; it was wise to keep a few secrets.
Emily looked at scooter and android and bowed her head very slightly. “Gamekeeper, come meet my new acquaintance”. Cathal felt oddly disappointed that she hadn’t called him a friend and shook himself mentally. Hormone control as part of the next upgrade he promised. Her robot friend was a dully metallic grey sphere, not that dissimilar to Taif’s drones in their default state but much larger. Cathal was startled when a cartoonish emoticon face materialised in front of it. Ah, a holographic avatar he realised. “Hallo Gamekeeper, my name is Cathal and I have no hostile intentions”
He smiled and gestured to the floating scooter, “Our chariot awaits, shall we board?” Emily laughed, slung her backpack and stepped onto the platform. Cathal sighed to himself, her laugh was actually musical. He was in trouble.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 12, 2022 7:59:28 GMT
A shorter update.
XXXXI. With Cynthia’s expert piloting the brief flight was smooth and pleasant. The platform’s surface held their boots without being restrictive, the force field surrounding them kept off the wind and heat. Emily’s Gatekeeper ‘bot paralleled their course. Cathal enjoyed the experience, meanwhile his brain churned.
Who was Emily? She said she was from futureward of his home period so research back home should show her birth at least. Was she really as pleasant and open as she seemed? Or was she formulating some sinister plot? Was her manner a carefully cultivated façade? Was he being paranoid?
Cathal decided that yes he was being paranoid. Probably. A degree of caution was reasonable but he thought Emily was pretty much what she seemed. And she was interesting, and potentially useful to him. Of course, he’d been disastrously wrong about people before….
Cynthia landed the little platform as smoothly as she’d flown it and they stepped off. “Thank you Cynthia, that was very smooth” Cathal acknowledged her skill. “My pleasure sir” she replied. She moved off out of their way and stood watchfully. Emily raised an eyebrow, Spock style. Cathal ignored her and spoke “Welcome to my humble abode. Well, I don’t actually live here, I didn’t create it and I’m not sure what’s here anyway”. Emily grinned, “But otherwise it’s all your own work?” “Well I ordered its creation….” “OK, Xanadu”.
Cathal surveyed his camp; the ‘bots had set up the solido-cabin near the entrance to the caves but hadn’t activated its camouflage system. Taif had taken the capsule a little further away and activated it’s stealth system; without the outline generated by his implants it would have been utterly invisible; the AI was taking no chances. The ‘bots had dropped a flexible pipe down the sixty metres of cliff into the stream below for water. The small fabber they’d brought had been set up in one of the caves. The last item seemed to impress Emily, “Ooo, you have a nano-fabricator. Neat!”, she practically squeed. Her enthusiasm was infectious, Cathal thought, “Naturally, unlike some people, I don’t like slumming it”. She gave him one of those female Looks that weren’t quite a glare. “Your tame AI built it” He agreed, “Yes Taif built it. But I told him to do so”.
Cathal felt a change of subject was in order. Also he was getting peckish, all this healthy outdoor air probably. “So, Emily, would you like some refreshments? Or Lunch? Or a nine course meal?” He was pretty sure he could arrange the latter, he’d made sure to pack a gourmet level food-fab. “Sure, I could do with some brekkie. Should we head off into the bush and kill one the pigs? Maybe gather some eggs?”. She was getting sarcastic, was that a good sign? Cathal shuddered theatrically, “Ehh, no. I think we’ve moved past hunting our meals. What would you like?”
Emily, it turned out, liked basically everything that could remotely be classed as “breakfast”, despite local time being around 3PM. Cathal found her appetite impressive, despite the fuelling requirement of his own enhancements.
After an hour of eating and light conversation, avoiding the serious topics like Finlet and time travel, Emily was replete, resembling to Cathal’s eye, Smoke after he’d gorged on a roast chicken. She was practically purring. He was feeling rather stuffed himself.
“So, to business?” Cathal broke the convivial, post-prandial, silence. Emily grinned again, it seemed to be a habit with her, and responded “After a meal like that my mind is yours”. “Well I do have a few questions”, he responded. She nodded, more serious now, “OK, what do you want to know?” Where do I start?, Cathal wondered.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 15, 2022 9:42:13 GMT
XXXXII. Questions and Answers I.
Cathal sat thinking. This was an opportunity to learn more, things not available from Taif’s datastore. Best to start with the basics, Kipling’s ‘Six Honest Serving Men’. He smiled and began to speak; “Well Emily let’s start with the basics. Why do you travel in time? Have you been to our mutual future much? Do you always work alone, or are you part of a group?”
She grinned again, that irresistible and strangely not irritating grin. “Well Cathal the basics are a good place to start. I travel in time, because I can. I know it sounds a bit stupid but it’d be a crying shame to waste the opportunity to learn so much. That's really all I can say about my motivations, I was born curious". She hesitated for a moment, seemingly arranging her thoughts, "I’ve been to the near future a few times but it’s a hard place to vist for me; things are so familiar but often so different. The further future doesn’t have the level of uncanny familiarity. Well after the 2160s and the Invasion, lots of changes after that”.
She paused and looked quietly into the distance for a moment. Cathal didn’t interrupt the silence; he’d studied the capsule's records of the near elimination of Earth’s population by a race of extra-terrestrial cyborgs himself. Despite the viewpoint of millennia later the descriptions were horrifying.
Emily exhaled and resumed her narration, “I usually operate alone, though I have friends and allies among the Freetimer community, that is travellers who aren’t connected to governments and similar organisations. I’m a member of the Hourglass Club, that’s a society for travellers like us. Occasionally I’l help out a researcher I trust with transport to the past, assuming I trust them. Mostly it works out”. Cathal wondered what happened to those who didn’t ‘work out’. Emily looked at him, prompting for further questions.
“Emm, you mentioned the ‘Hourglass Club’, what exactly is that? And do you know many other time travellers?” “The hourglass is run by a man, at least I presume he’s a man, he could be anything, called Gandalf Gray. He set it up centuries ago, initially in London but there are branches in other cities. It’s a bit like one of those old-fashioned gentleman’s clubs, not the stripper type, all dark wood and formality, but it’s intended for those who’ve travelled in time or been dropped into other periods. Temporally Displaced Persons he calls them. It’s a sort of mutual help guild, maintains a huge library and a list of contacts of all kinds, sometimes arranges rescues, holds messages, recommends locations and places to stay. That sort of thing.” Emily paused to gulp down her tea. “I’ve met”, she paused to count on her fingers, fifteen other time travellers. That's excluding people I’ve only met in the club. I suppose you’d like more details?” Cathal nodded. That seemed rather a lot.
“OK, the first person I met was a guy called Doctor Matthew Randall. He was nice, helped and mentored me. I got in a spot of bother in Britain during the Dark Ages. Though he didn’t like me call it that. He’s a bit of an academic, very quiet but terribly smart. I think something nasty happened to him, he's distant a lot of the time and likes solitude. But he’s smart, helpful and has a machine that’s bigger on the inside, almost like Professor X”.
“Next there was Fergus, he’s from a planet called New Ultonia, way into our future. He’s a Warrior-Historian, they infiltrate themselves into wars and conflicts to record what actually happened. A bit weird if you ask me but he was a nice guy. We met at Gallipoli, my great-uncles died there”.
“Then there were the Storm Riders. I don’t know their names but there are three of them and they have an intelligent time-ship that’s almost like an Omnitrope. Where they got it I have no idea; they’re a bit weird, almost like a group mind, they're telepathic".
"Then there was Lilith and Zachery. I met them in San Francisco in the seventies, the ninteen seventies I mean. He’s nice, so's she really but she’s a vampire". Emily hesitated and looked at Cathal, as if she wasn't sure he'd believe her. "I mean that, an actual blood-drinking one. Apparently they’re real, there are nests of them around. She’s absolutely gorgeous too. Not a bad person. They fixed a weird situation with a haunted hotel there, and I helped".
Cathal actually felt surprised at how unsurprising the revelation that vampires and apparently ghosts were real was to him. He's had to absorb a lot in the last few days, his horizons had been forcibly widened.
Emily continued her narration. "Then there was Reilly Cydnie. She’s nice, been travelling for yonks. I think her parents were time travellers. A good laugh, smart and ready for anything”.
"When I went to Glenrowan to see Ned Kelly I met three travellers; one was what they call a meddler, someone who was actually trying to alter the past. He wanted to help Kelly win and start a revolution, he had plans for airships and everything. There were two Time Agents there to stop him. They were OK but didn’t approve of me”.
“And lastly there’s a group from about our time that travel in a double-decker London bus; Alicia is the leader and there’s her girlfriend Genny, a quiet smart guy named Xavier and a doctor from the future named Franklin. The have a base in Scotland”. Emily grinned again, “That’s the lot. So far.”
Cathal was rocked back by the number of people Emily had rattled off. So time travel wasn’t that uncommon.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 16, 2022 10:08:00 GMT
The info-dump continues.
XXXXIII. Questions and Answers II. Cathal was rocked back by the sheer number of people Emily had rattled off. So time travel wasn’t that uncommon, that was something to be aware of, and prepared for
Cathal thoughtfully drank is own tea and digested the info-dump from Emily; while she watched him, drinking tea and smiling slightly, and probably savouring the surprise she’d instilled in him as much as the beverage. Taking a deep breath Cathal exhaled and spoke, “Thanks Emily, that was fascinating. I had not understood there were so many time travellers”.
She interrupted him, “I think you may have picked up the wrong impression. It’s not really that there are vast numbers of travellers, it’s that we tend to get around a lot, and bump into each other”. She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts, “Moreover, we’re more aware of the reality of time travel than most ephemerals so we can see things that are really there rather than dismissing them as ‘impossible’. That’s non-travellers, ephemerals”. Cathal grinned, “Muggles you mean”. She nodded, “Actually some people do call them that. And ephemerals are really those unaware of time travel, not necessarily people who are aware but don’t do it”.
Cathal noted the distinction. He decided to return to it later. A quick mental instruction to Taif and more tea and nibbles arrived on a tray gripped in the upper manipulators of one of the hexapodal utility robots. “Ooo, thanks. Your food machine is well programmed” said Emily appreciatively. “I copied the best cakes and pastries available”, he replied. He decided not to mention his opinions on camping
“OK Emily, you mentioned visiting Glenrowan1 and Gallipoli, what other historical events have you visited?”, he asked. “Well now Cathal, one thing you need to understand, and I don’t know how much of the theory of time you understand, is that it can be bloody difficult to visit certain key events in history. Doc Randall explained it to me that it’s a combination of effects. Firstly, many time machines in the same location can interfere with each other, like ships creating an area of turbulence from their wakes. And secondly there’s what he called the ‘Limelight Effect’2 where time actively prevents you from visiting what he called ‘crux’ points”. Emily sighed.
“I’m probably not the best person to explain this, but Matt explained it to me like this; if everyone who could get there was in Sarajevo on the twenth-eighth of June in 1914 was there, the effect would be obvious and risk altering history. So there is a resistance to accessing certain locations”. Cathal nodded, actually the idea made sense. He knew from Taif that time was mutable, the erasure of the society that created the capsule proved that. The temporal theory in the capsule's datastore was rather basic3, but he knew that while there was a certain flexibility in reality, at the quantum level, it wasn’t infinite. Fascinating. And terrifying.
"So you've never witnessed the assassination of Franz Ferdinand then?", he asked. "Nope. Never tried actually. There's too many bits of Aussie history I want to see". Emily paused, drank, and resumed, "I was watching when the First Fleet sailed into Botany Bay that January, and watched them leave again". Her eyes drifted away, and she stared into the distance for a couple of minutes With a sigh she continued, "I was there, watching, at the storming of the Eureka Stockade. I have video of that". She suddenly grinned widely, her mood elevated by the memory. "I thought about uploading it to YouTube, see what happens"
Cathal was curious, "What would happen?" Emily shook her head, "Not much. People would write it off as a re-enactment or fakery. Also Gandalf would probably arrange for it to disappear. Him or someone else. People have an almost infinite ability to refuse to accept reality". Cathal nodded, he's seen managers do the same, many times.
Emily continued, "Not that the Stockade was much of a revolution, twenty soldiers ended it in an afternoon. I was back month later, met the Five Women. That was a group of five women, mostly Irish, who staked a claim on the goldfield and worked it. They refused to buy miner's licenses4, said that law only applied to men. Some of the miners tried to run them off but got shot for their troubles. Including a bushranger named Black Douglas, but he failed like the rest". Emily grinned again, obviously she approved of the women's behaviour. "A weird place the goldfields, there were entire ships' crews there that had deserted and marched in as a group5. And a doctor who embalmed people6". "Really though I haven't visited many famous events. I tried to solve the Somerton Man death, planned to put up a few micro cameras, but I couldn't get hear the place, my Vortun kept getting knocked off course".
Cathal decided to ask her about her own time machine, "You mentioned this 'Vortun' that you inherited, how does it work?" Emily snorted, "Buggered if I know really. I program the destination, the gadget links to my mind so that's pretty simple7, and poof, I'm there. Usually I bring the trike, for supplies and mobility. It blends in surprisingly well for the last couple of hundred years, and for plenty to some. If you want more technical details I'm the wrong person to ask". She paused and looked thoughtful, "Actually you really should look up Doc Randall. It's pretty easy, he has a meeting spot set up. Be outside the British Museum's entrance on Montague Place at closing time on a Thursday in 1951. He'll be there. Though he said he'd used up all the Thursdays in January and February".
Cathal laughed, he'd like to meet his man. The meeting place seemed like a sensible idea. Maybe a trip to 1951 next? He could see Pool of London and pick up a Beano7. Or take in the Festival of Britain.
1. For those not familiar with Australian history (and mythology) see the wiki entry on the Glenrowan Affair. And I recommend 'Grimes at Glenrowan' and Kelly Country by A. B. Chandler, alternative history complete with armoured trains and steam boats, and bomb dropping airships fighting for Australian independence.
2. The Limelight Effect: Well known historical events are difficult to access, due to quantum effects caused by large numbers of efforts to travel there. They repel time travel efforts.
3. The result of deliberate efforts by Certain Groups and simple loss of data during the various trouble Earth has endured over the centuries.
4. This is entirely true.
5. Yes, also true.
6. And this. I've researched the 185x Australian goldfields for a scenario. A weird and violent place. Anything might have been dug up.
7. Dennis the Menace first appeared in 1951.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 16, 2022 13:01:26 GMT
XXXXIV. Questions and Answers III. Cathal cleared his mind and turned to Emily, “Do you mind if I continue this interrogation?” She grinned again, “Go ahead. I’m at your disposal”. “Do you know how easy it is to alter history? Have you ever altered the past? Or the future, as you knew it? Or seen it done?”
Emily gulped her tea before replying, “Ah, the big questions. Well, I have never personally altered the flow of history as I’ve known it either rin my past or future. It’s actually fairly difficult, and even more difficult to alter major events. There is a tendency for time to flow back, rather like a river, into it’s original course”. She continued, “Though there are vulnerable spots, Jonbar Hinges¹ they’re referred to, where events can be changed relatively easily, places where time is vulnerable”. “However there is some flexibility². Minor events can be altered without causing a cascade that drastically changing events later on. Sometimes”. She stopped at looked at him, “But it’s generally not something to experiment with. Bad things can happen to people who try and change history”. Cathal was intrigued, “What sort of ‘Bad Things’?.”
Emily sighed before responding, “This is difficult to explain. But you can have weird runs of what seems like bad luck, things going wrong, stuffing breaking down and so on. It seems like the universe is trying to warn you off. Some travellers call it ‘Clockhammering or 'clock-blocking³’. Again, I think you’ll need to talk to Matt about it. Ask him about the Aoin Hypothesis⁴, he’ll talk your leg off”. “Of course there are other risks, Time Agents and other travellers stopping you for one. And there are creatures that can interfere too, though as far as I know they’re only stories”. Cathal thought about all this and sighed. He really needed to study time travel in more detail.
After a couple of minutes contemplation, Cathal spoke, “Emily, I think this needs a lot of thought. Obviously I’ll have to postpone assassinating Hitler for a while”. She grinned, “Yeah, that’d be a bad one to try”.
Cathal changed te subject, “You mentioned some ‘Time Agents’, who seemed to act as a police force. Who are they? When do they come from?” Emily sighed, “Oh those buggers. They can be a bit of a nuiscence. Though they can be useful. They were set up around the beginning of the sixth millennium by the main temporal powers of the galaxy as a sort of police force, stopping people from mis-using time travel. It didn’t work out, many of their agents went rogue⁵ and the whole thing folded after a century or so, mired in their own corruption and faction fighting. They faded out after that, but they’re still around”. She grinned, “The joys of time travel. You can meet people you’ve seen die”.
Cathal was curious, “How do you handle situations like that? Meeting someone you know will die?. Emily winced, “Carefully. It’s considered very rude to mention things in a person’s future. Unless you’re tryuing to alter that future and have a proper plan. Time Twisting as it’s called is a pretty common irritation for travellers, we meet people out of the 'natural' sequence from the perspective of one or another”. She stared at Cathal, “Be bloody careful”. Emily started and resumed speaking, “Also there’s a form of time twist called ‘fating’”. She sighed “It’s a bit mystical for me, but Matt says it’s true so it probably is. According to him Time doesn't want major changes and something, or someone, that has a ‘destined’ place in future events shouldn't be moved in time”.
Cathal changed the subject again, too much to absorb.
"Emily, you know a few other time travellers? Are there origanised groups? Societies? Clubs? University departments?"
Emily glugged more tea, "Well I've mentioned the Hourglass Club, they're independents, Freetimers, but help each other out. There's the Timeless Society, they're antique dealers and such, who deal in objects from the past and help out time travellers. An Coco's of course". She paused for more tea and Cathal interrupted. "Who's Coco?
Emily continued, "Hang on, let a girl finish her tea". She grinned and continued, "Coco’s Delivery Service is a special courier service who handles objects that need to be delivered in nthe future. If you need to leave a package in some city and have it delivered a year later. Or a century. Or to yourself when you were there earlier in your personal timeline". Cathal nodded, that seemed quite logical. Emily resumed her story, 2It's run out of an office in London by a giant spider named Lydia⁵.
Cathal looked at her, but Emily did not appear to be joking. She conbtinued, "There are government and UN ganecies that deal with the weird stuff. That's one of the reasons for the Hourglass Club, sort of a union for independents to keep the government off our backs". Something struck her, "Oh and there's a place called the ArcHive, way in the future. Academics who travel in time for research. I mentioned the Warrior-Historians. There are probably others".
Cathal started wondeirng if something other than strong, milky, tea would be a good idea to help with the sudden influx of information.
1. Jonbar Hinge: Locations within the temporal framework where the quantum potential is reduced drastically. Instead of a multitude of fairly similar possible outcomes from a certain action there are only a few, classically two, and they are very different. The probability wave is, if not collapsed, highly constrained. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonbar_hinge
2. The nature of reality is ‘fuzzy’ at the quantum level, otherwise the alterantion to the mass/energy qcontent of a space from time travel would be impossible.
3. Both terms are Freetimer slang. While time isn't exactly alive, sentient or sapient it's a sufficiently complex phenomena that, rather like the Gaia Hypothesis, it does have certain characteristics of a living system. Hence there are situations when "time" finds it easier to interfere , sometimes violently, with a time traveller’s actions in order to preserve the "normal flow" of time. Among seasoned Freetimers, those with experience of this phenonema and who’ve survived with their personal reality reasonably intact, this is referred to this as "getting clockhammered" or (sigh) "clock-blocking". It can be unpleasant, irritating or fatal. Some time travellers of a mystical bent attempt to avoid this unpleasantness by proving Time (there are various anthromorphic personifications of same) with an easier way than, say, causing them to be hit by a passing meteorite whose passage through the skull strangely resembles a .32 bullet, to pass them a message. They have a set of dice or random number generator or comm app that they use. For example; "If all six of these dice show zero I'll change my plans". The theory is that altering the probability is "easier" for Time than other methods of deterring them from tamerpi9ng with something they shouldn't. This may or may not actually work; it certainly doesn't work if the person doesn't believe and intend to adhere to the belief sincerely.
4. The aforementioned Gaia Hypothesis analogue for time. Some time travellers accept it, some consider it so much fetid dingo kidneys.
5. Lydia Muffet to be exact. And she's a very big spider. The owner is Coco MacBride and other employes include professional courier from the Republic of Fraxinet who ended up in the wrong universe, a humanzee named Ronny, a vampire and a few people who are a bit weird.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 17, 2022 10:53:45 GMT
XXXXV. Show and Tell.
Emily stood and stretched, “OK, how about you answer a few questions of mine?. But first a dunny break”. Cathal directed her to the cabin and waited for her return, his brain churning to assimilate all the information he’d amassed over the last hour. I really don’t know enough about time travel, the mechanics and players, to do more than dabble, he thought to himself. I think a crash course in temporal theory, if Doctor Randall is willing. And perhaps a visit to the Hourglass Club.
The more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed, though it was a pity records back them weren’t computerised, ID cards were still required. And there was still rationing, he realised with a start. Accessing his implant Cathal discovered that in 1951 this only applied to meat, sugar, sweets and chocolate. Lucky he had the food-fab, he liked his pastries, bacon and chocolate. The rats and rationing era, or the tail end of it, austerity and end of empire, a bit grey and boring.
Emily returned and again sat cross-legged, closer to the fire this time. The evening was getting cool. Cathal asked her, “What do you want to know?” She looked at him and smiled as she replied, “Well we seem to be avoiding personal questions, so I’ll stick to the same sort as you. What do you know about Danny and his home, he didn’t tell me much”.
Cathal collated his thoughts as he replied, “Well all I know I got from Taif. The capsule used by Operator Finlet was called, rather unimaginatively, TX-4, which stands for Temporal Experiment Four. It was constructed in Atlantia, a large Atlantic landmass that doesn’t exist in our time, in 5329 CE. The TX Central Command was based there. They were attempting to re-develop time travel technology”. He paused for a moment, considering how much he should say about Finlet’s death¹, “Regarding Danice, I only encountered his body, he was long dead when I found the capsule.”
Emily nodded, “He told me his home was gone, erased from time, and he didn’t know how”. Cathal agreed, “Yes, that was in his log and Taif’s as well. Apparently, Danice left on his first solo test mission and, made three uneventful jumps through time. He returned home to find the TX base didn’t exist and never had. They were erased from the timeline, though there were few other changes. He thought it might have been some effect of his trips, even though he was meticulously careful and never actually went outside. Or perhaps one of the other two TX capsules. He accessed the records in that time and found he’d never been born. Or rather decanted, actual humans giving birth being passé by then²”. Cathal paused for a moment, to let his brain catch up with his mouth, he needed to control his tendency to verbosity.
He stared into the fire for a moment, “To me the freaky thing is that he and the capsule weren’t erased also”. Emily nodded again, “It does sound weird, and it seems to violate conservation of mass/energy, but I’ve known it to happen. One of my friends is an ‘Ontological Artefact’³, as Matt calls them. Something happened and his birth never occurred, but he was shielded by the erasure by being in a time machine, so he’s still around”. Cathal thought about it, there was a certain not-exactly-logical logic about the idea, at the edge of his understanding. But it was still weird.
“Well Taif and Danice left home about four months ago, in their personal timeline. And the capsule shows no signs of evaporating into the Æther, especially with me aboard”. Cathal pursed his lips, “You know, the more I think about it the more the erasure of the TX Project intrigues me. It does seem very selective”⁴.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts and resumed, “The capsule is, as you’ve seen, quite small, really only suited to one person. But it’s well equipped, with a nanotech fabricator that can assemble almost anything needed. Except chronon crystals to build a bigger time machine alas”.
Emily interrupted, “You can probably trade for them, and they’re used in a lot of time technology. A few travellers have the knack to make them”⁵. Cathal was astonished, “Really? They’re mentioned in Taif’s datastore, but there are no details on their manufacture”. Emily nodded, “Talk to Matt, or Gandalf. The crystals are made from perfect, or near perfect, gems exposed to an excess of chronon particles. And I’m sure you can make suitable basic crystals”. It was Cathal’s turn to nod, the fabber could assemble perfect, or doped, diamonds or rubies of any size he wanted from basic elements. This was getting interesting.
Cathal continued, “Well the capsule is irritatingly no larger on the inside, if such things are really possible, but it’s made from remarkable materials, shape-changing and immensely tough. It draws power from the temporal maelstrom, in some manner I don’t understand, but has fusion backup. The sensors and stealth are excellent, as far as I can judge. On a par with your own toys I believe”. He grinned at his guest.
Emily nodded, “Yes, but my gear is a bit of a patchwork, much of it is no more advanced than our home period. Except Gamekeeper and a few other bits, like my Vortun. And I do have one toy I think you’ll be impressed by”. She grinned at him in turn and picked up the backpack that had never been far from her reach. She opened the main compartment, not a zipper he noticed, and started taking stuff out.
In less than a minute the grass they were sitting on was littered with objects, some recognisable but many not. Several were larger than the backpack itself. Cathal was amazed, it was like nothing he’d seed, except maybe that Professor X Christmas Special where she emptied her pockets for a customs officer⁶. After a couple of minutes, Emily stopped and sat back, smirking. Cathal spoke, “Ah, so that’s why I was getting weird readings from your backpack on the scanner. It’s a bloody Bag of Holding⁷. Neat!”.
Emily grinned, “Very useful for travelling. Anything that fits through the top can fit in. There’s no weight or volume limit as far as I can find. I put a couple of tonnes of scrap in once, just to test it. Also no time passes inside, so everything is as hot, cold, or fresh coming out as when it went in”. “As I said, neat. Can I ask where you got it? And can I get one? Or similar technology”, Cathal was envious. “It was a present from Fergus, the Warrior-Historian I met, in exchange for some interviews and documents to supplement his research. Though there are similar gadgets circulating among Freetimers. I think Dan had one of them, a trunk”. Cathal was, yet again, startled. It’d been one of those evenings.
1. He’s not sure if he should mention how he dropped Finlet’s body into the recycler. Some people might think that gauche.
2. And had for many centuries, except for a few periods when ‘natural’ birth was briefly fashionable or the technology unavailable..
3. Ontological artefact: Something that has no creation, i.e. an object that is part of a causal loop or is ‘left over’ after the event of its creation has been erased. Usually preserved by being shielded by excess chronal energy.
4. Is Cathal’s paranoia setting in again? Or did someone deliberately erase the TX Project?
5. Chronon crystals are used in many basic time manipulation devices, and do occur naturally at weakpoints in space-time. They’re used in some time machines, including many of the Sinclair Field devices (though they’re not absolutely vital). They can have odd effects if mis-handled and some devices utilising them (e.g. the infamous Barrlyght Oscillator) are inherently dangerous.
6. The six minute scene in the Christmas/New Year special of 2011, The Scorn of the Weylanni, is controversial among series fans. Many consider it obvious padding while some consider it a masterpiece of scene setting.
7. Bag of Holding. Warning TVTropes link.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 17, 2022 20:42:02 GMT
XXXXVI. The Mysterious Box. Cathal spoke up, “Err, Emily, a quick question. There was a mention in Finlet’s journal about a ‘box’ that he’d gotten from another time traveller, whom he didn’t name, in 4967. Do you know anything about this?” Emily nodded, “Yep, the last time I met him Danny mentioned a special box. He said it was something like my pack but we didn’t get a chance to talk about it”.
Cathal paused for thought before replying, “According to his journal; he left it here, along with some other gear. Do you know how he found this place? It seems like an unusual spot to just stumble on and there was nothing in his notes about him surveying the area”. Emily responded, “Oh, that’s easy. I told him about the island, gave him the coordinates from by Vortun. Matt had been here for a while, he’s the one who told me about it”. She grinned, “We met in a freezing winter in Dark Age England and he suggested this spot would be more suited to my taste. He’d used the caves for a while in his early days travelling but hadn’t used it for several years”. She paused for tea and continued, “When I arrived I preferred that spot over by the trees. I had a life-raft with me and used that for a while as a base while I set things up”.
Cathal thought for a moment and issued an instruction, “Taif, have the drones perform a deep scan on the caves and the surrounding area, send the results to my implant; look specifically for any anomalies”. “Compliance”, Taif’s inaudible voice echoed in Cathal’s mind. Cathal looked over at Emily, who was studying him and she spoke to him, “Talking to your friend?”. He nodded, “Given that Taif’s sensors reacted to your backpack I was hoping he could find that box, I’m getting curious”. Taif’s voice resonated in Cathal’s head. “Operator, an anomalous object has been detected”. A three-dimensional map appeared in his vision. Cathal spoke aloud, “Aha, it seems Taif has found this mysterious box. Shall we take a look?” “Absolutely”, was her reply. They stood.
Walking over to the caves they passed under the overhang of rock, around four metres deep and nine long, and into the first of the caves. It was about seven metres long; open to the outside for most of that length, and five metres deep, though part of the open side had been blocked off by paper-thin sheets of some rigid metallic material. The nano-fabber had been set up there by Taif’s minions, with drums of feedstock and a water pipe linked for cooling. Scattered around were a number of camp type tables and chairs and about a dozen plastic storage crates, those same robots had dusted everything down.
Off the main cave were five smaller ones, which again showed signs of having been enlarged with advanced tools, and partitioned with more of the metallic sheeting. Cathal followed the path generated in his eye, leading the way into one of these caves.
Amongst a few other crates, the box they were looking for was flagged by his implants; the material was transparent to the sensors and the interior seemed to contain only mundane containers of water but the box as a whole seemed to have a distortion in space associated with it. Interesting.
To Cathal it resembled nothing more exotic than an old-fashioned steamer trunk, though made of more modern materials than wood and leather, and flat-topped There were no visible external hinges or fasteners, just an odd octagonal plate in the front and recesses for folding handgrips. No mounts for a lock either. It was a greyish-blue in colour, something of an odd choice, with very dark grey trim. Cathal crouched and moved the trunk cautiously; it weighed about thirty kilogrammes, so about ten after subtracting the water inside. It was large for such a trunk, approximately 125 centimetres long, sixty wide and forty deep, so around three hundred litres of interior space.
“Hmm”, was all he said. Emily poked him with a bony forefinger. Evidently, their evening’s conversation had promoted him to this level of familiarity. “What is ‘hmmm’ supposed to mean? Can you see inside it?”. She seemed to be getting interested in the mystery. “I can see some plastic cans of water inside it. But it’s also weird”. He straightened up, to be glared at. “Weird in the sense of distorting space around it, just a little bit. And differently to you backpack”. He anticipated her questions. Before she spoke he did, “Shall we take it outside and open it?”
The two of them found no problems carrying the trunk; while it was awkwardly large, the caves were quite spacious. Out in the open air they both stared at the box. Emily was the first to speak, “I think I know what this is. Gandalf has one like it. It’s a set of extra-dimensional spaces link to the container, the octagon on the plate is the key”. Cathal was intrigued, “Oh? How does it work?” Emily paused to think before replying, “You tap on the central point to open the box and you tap on each of the corners in sequence to select which inside is accessed. Gandalf’s box had a hexagon and had sixty-four inside spaces, so I assume this one has two hundred and fifty-six. You tap in a binary sequence”. Interesting, Cathal thought, and considered the octagonal inlay. The corners and centre had smaller octagons inset.
Emily looked thoughtful when she spoke again, “If it’s like the box Gandalf had, and like my backpack, anything inside doesn’t experience time until the box is opened. So you could have a primed grenade in one interior”. Cathal moved his hand away from the box. He could think of many, many, unpleasant surprises that could be waiting, beyond a simple grenade; animals, insect swarm, anti-personnel mine, poison gas, armed robot… The possibilities were endless. He sat down and thought about the situation. After a minute he nodded and spoke aloud, “Taif, deploy a remote drone to this position, about a metre above the box in front of me”. “Compliance”. This time the voice echoed out of no-where, or rather the invisible drone above him, startling both Cathal and Emily.
“What are you planning Cathal”, Emily sounded intrigued, and perhaps a little nervous, “You obviously have some sort of plan. Preferably one that isn’t likely to kill us both”. Cathal laughed, “Indeed I do. I’m just not sure it’ll work. I plan to have Taif scan the box’s contents before I open it. Then switch to another interior and see if he can still scan inside. It should work”
“Hmm”, was her sole reply. She managed to insert a substantial amount of doubt and uncertainty in that single syllable.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 21, 2022 21:43:09 GMT
XXXXVII. Secrets of the Box. The two of them sat in companionable silence looking at the box in the glow of the fire . Finally Emily spoke; “What’s the worst thing that could happen? The most dangerous thing inside?”. “Hmmm”, Cathal thought before he answered. “Well you could fit a couple of tonnes of anti-matter, as dense as iron, inside. Say ninety thousand megatonnes, though around half of that would be neutrinos. One hell of a flare for someone to see”. Emily replied, snark in her voice, “I think a second Chicxulub would be a bad idea”. “Oh no”, Cathal replied, “Chicxulub was more than a thousand times bigger” “Pedant”, was her retort. He continued, "Or a self-replicating robotic genocide machine. Or a sporing biological weapon. Or a grey-goo type nano-weapon. Or something worse, like a planet-busting Z-bomb, or Nova Trigger. Logically opening the box is too dangerous".
Emily looked at him, "But we're going to aren't we?" "Oh yes", Cathal replied, "We're human. Doing illogical and dangerous things is natural". “Anyway, I doubt there’s anything quite so destructive inside. Probably some sort of booby-traps or security devices. But nothing that drastic”, Cathal thought his voice sounded quite convincing. Emily looked skeptcial as she asked him, “How do you want to handle this?”. He looked at her as raised an eyebrow, “You’re interested?” “Yes”, was her reply, “The curiousity is killing me”. Cathal refrained from making any of the obvious retorts. He felt quite proud of himself for this.
He sighed and spoke, “I suggest we retire to my capsule and have one of the ‘bots do the actual button pressing. As each new interior space is rotated inside we have one of Taif’s drones carry out a scan”. “Actually”, he started to continue as an idea struck him, “Taif can you scan the interior of the box? It appears to have multiple interior spaces, in congruent dimensions slightly out of phase with this one.” The AI's voice boomed from seemingly empty air; “No Operator. My scanners can see partially into the current interior phase-space but not any of the others. However if the others spaces are rotated into phase they can be scanned. However scanning will be imperfect due to the temporal stasis effect and the spatial distortion of the device”. Cathal was almost sure that was Taif’s longest discourse ever.
Cathal turned to Emily, “OK I think my idea will work, are you with me”. She looked at him, grinned again and nodded, “Sure, what’s the worst that can happen?” Cathal forbore from responding with any of the ideas in his head.
A few minutes later, they were safely, he hoped, ensconced in the time capsule. Which, he thought, he really needed to give a name. Taif had extruded a second chair for Emily and Cathal managed the operation from his command seat. Which basically involved giving orders via Taif to the utility robot and hoping Taif could get them out of danger if needed. He’d suggested that Emily get the rest of her gear but she’d declined, saying that her pack and Gamekeeper were all she needed. She’d told her companion to “be on your best behaviour and not to hack”, for which Cathal was grateful.
As the robot tapped on one of the inscribed circles, hopefully accessing the first of the spaces, Cathal and Emily focussed on the results of the drone’s scan, while an inset image showed the ‘bots video feed. As the robot tapped on the central circle, the image shown by the drone changed abruptly. The image of plastic cans of water became a Taif generated picture of series of tools. To Cathal it looked like a sledgehammer, broad-axe, shovels, hatchets, mattock, crowbars and so on. All fairly mundane. But the box worked. Emily asked, “Shall we open it? Just to check?” Cathal shrugged, “Why not?” and ordered the robot to tap the central circle again. The box’s lid opened and the video feed of both machines showed a vastly clearer picture of a selection of mundane tools.
Over the next half-hour a quarter of the possible interior spaces were scanned; nearly half were empty while most contained an odd range of supplies and equipment, stuff that someone obviously thought might be useful. Or found and decided to keep; perhaps the box was the ultimate example of pack-rat mentality? The contents included:
- Weapons, mainly fairly conventional firearms but some more exotic items and a selection of faux medieval implements. Some were a bit odd, such as a number of black powder guns that had electrical ignition, a crossbow that used memory metal, a spring-gun with a removable magazine for bolts and a few powerful compressed air weapons
- There was also one compartment almost filled with blocks of the powerful plastic explosive Fulgarite-D, more than half-a-tonne of the stuff. There was another with a selection of demolition gear
- Three one litre bottles of fullerenated anti-matter.
- Lots of tools, ranging from pocket multi-tools through heavy power tools. Mostly organised by purpose.
- Large amounts of water, alcohols and other fuels, in standard twenty litre plastic jerrycans.
- Protective suits and equipment, from simple face masks to vacuum suits, respirators to force-field belts.
- Camping gear, ranging in sophistication from mundane twenty-first century tents to exotic force-field shelters.
- Literally kilometres of cordage: ropes made from mundane polyprop to carbon nanotubes strands that could suspend a sixty tonne tank.
- Two full sets of advanced SCUBA gear; heated slick suits, face masks with data connections and HUDs, fins, weight belts, sono-comm sets, various carbon-fibre tanks, knives, a dozen lights of various types, wrist dive computer, electric compressor, rebreather cartridges and more.
- A selection of heavy weapons including twenty Armbrust launchers, a light mortar with three hundred bombs, three near-future (to Cathal) medium machine guns. And over two thousand hand grenades, of a vast range of types.
- Two counter-gravity flight packs.
- A compact, trolley mounted, fusion generator.
- An ultra-light aircraft, electrically powered, broken down into three packs.
Three of the compartments had been booby-trapped. One had some sort of small security robot that they assumed was active but didn't disturb, one a spring mechanism loaded with a dozen small neural stun grenades, while the last was less subtle; three anti-personnel bounding land mines that could fill a twenty metre radius with thousands of high velocity fragments.
Despite the oddity of the situation, watching the images and cataloguing the material was actually getting tedious. Cathal briefly contemplated the ability of the human brain to adapt to make almost any task banal, and was about to propose a break, when a sudden interjection from Emily brought his attention back to the display. “Fuck, that’s an atomic bomb”, she exclaimed in wonder. Cathal studied images and Taif’s analysis. It was indeed an atomic bomb, if a simple one. It has the usual bits, a plutonium sphere, fission tamper, implosion lenses and similar elements. A Soviet RA-115, Taif identified it. Cathal remembered the device from the post-Cold War paranoia; a Spetsnaz toy for the early stages of the inevitable world war.
Fascinating.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 23, 2022 10:38:12 GMT
A brief update to round things off.
XXXXVIII. More Secrets of the Box. The atomic bomb was the highlight of the trunk’s contents.
Otherwise, it was filled with a mass of miscellaneous supplies. Camping gear; weapons of various sorts; a vast range of tools; various medical equipment and supplies; a couple of years’ worth of rations of numerous types; several hundred smoke grenades of assorted colours (and more loaded with a variety of chemical agents); lots of money, with over two hundred neatly labelled boxes holding currency from a range of periods; a half-tonne of assorted gold, coins, ingots and easily sold plain rings; a dozen compartments stuffed with books that Cathal marked for later study; a selection of drones; a disassembled chronolog¹; fifteen sets of binoculars; two compartments full of light sources, oil lamps, chem-lights, electric torches, radiation lamps, bio-luminescents and more; four hundred bottles of wine, and two hundred of spirits.
It seemed the trunk’s original owner was a sufferer from aggravated pack-rattery. But then again, if you have the storage space why throw anything potentially useful away?
Finally, the trunk’s contents were catalogued. Emily stood, stretched and sighed before speaking; “We that was interesting, if a little anti-climactic”. Cathal looked at her, “I don’t know about you but I don’t stumble over nuclear bombs every day. Obviously you’ve been leading a more interesting life than I have”. Emily glared at him, “This is actually only the third atomic bomb I’ve encountered in my travels”. She grinned before continuing, “Remind me to tell you about playing poker with Don Hornig one rainy night sometime²”. Cathal was nonplussed, had Emily really been present at the Trinity test?
He shook himself to clear his head, “Anyway, war stories another time. It’s getting late, can I offer you accommodation for the night? Assuming you still need to sleep that is.” She looked at him, visibly amused, “Is that a proposition?” and grinned. Cathal scowled, “No. As you’re quite well aware it’s an offer of shelter for the night. Unless you prefer camping out? I believe the weather will be find, if that’s your choice”. Emily smirked, “Well thank you for you gallant offer. I accept with pleasure and gratitude”.
Cathal gave a few silent orders to Taif. He was perhaps ninety percent sure he trusted Emily, but he stationed a drone outside the cabin and activated the security sensors anyway. He was sure she knew about his precautions anyway....
¹ A device, or rather set of equipment, sometimes used by time travellers lacking better equipment (or otherwise having trouble) to solved the vexed question of when exactly they are, without having to find a local who speaks a compatible language and ask questions. It consists of four compact optical telescopes, ten fabric sections embedded with passive electromagnetic sensor arrays, an expert system computer and fibre/RF links. It takes about an hour to set up and at least an hour to generate a result. The whole setup weighs almost a hundred kilos, is awkward to set up and most traveller find it too much trouble to bother with. It also requires the database to have data for your location in space.
² Hornig was the youngest man involved with the preparation for the Trinity atomic bomb test in 1945 and babysat the ‘Gadget’ for most of the night, either to protect the X-Unit from electrical interference or because Oppenheimer was concerned about sabotage. Supposedly he was alone in the little hut atop the tower, except for a copy of Desert Island Decameron, but then things get left out of official histories. FYI, the Gadget actually detonated a quarter-second early due to an unknown electrical signal, but that's a story for another time….
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Aug 25, 2022 10:35:26 GMT
XXXXIX. The Morning After.
The following morning was bright, clear, sunny and warm. However, given that he was in the Caribbean in late summer, Cathal felt this was rather a given, and one that didn’t interest him. He opaque the wall of the cabin and sat on the bed to consider matters. Yesterday had been an interesting, informative and valuable day; he’d learned a lot from Emily, gained a useful artefact and quite a lot of supplies he didn’t really need, and some insight into the culture of time travel.
But in his head the angel and demon were still battling… His paranoia, which had proven useful in the past, was jumping up and down, warning about getting too close to Emily, that he shouldn’t trust her too much. Meanwhile another part of his psyche was exuberant at successful interaction with another human being. He had been, Cathal realised, lonely. Perhaps he was no Selkirk.
Though possibly some of the brain churn was his mind processing the data-dump he’d has Taif load into his implant, all the available data about temporal theory and practice. There was much missing from the TX Project’s files however. Moreover, while Noon’s Introduction to Polytonic Etiology¹ might have been the seminal work her prose style was turgid at best.
He lay back on the bed, closed his eyes, inhaled and visualised, and then breathed out. The trick his therapist had taught him did work, he felt more relaxed and balanced. And, he realised, he’d made a decision. He was going to trust Emily. Unless he had actual evidence elsewise. OK, time for breakfast.
He emerged from his room into the main space of the cabin to find Emily wide awake, dressed and obnoxiously cheerful. But she was making breakfast so she could be forgiven her cheerfulness. Anyway, it seemed an inherent part of her character. Cathal was a morning person, even before his mods he hadn’t needed more than six hours of sleep most nights, and habitually burned the candle at both ends. However, he preferred his mornings quite and solitary. Oh well.
“Good morning!!”. Emily beamed at him. Cathal could hear the exclamation marks in her voice. “You have an excellent food machine. It seems to be able to do anything!”. Include recycling human bodies, Cathal thought, before pushing the idea away firmly. “Good morning Emily”, he replied rather formally, “And how are you this stereotypically lovely Caribbean morning? Did you sleep well?”. She looked at him consideringly and spoke, “Not a morning person? Sorry”. “No, no, I am a morning person. It’s just that I’m not used to such…. exuberance, in the morning”, not since Paloma anyway, he thought. “Ah, right, I’ll tone it down a notch then”, she responded understandingly. “Thank you”. “So”, she continued, “What would you like for breakfast?” Cathal thought about it and replied, “Everything”.
Breakfast was a lengthy operation with both of them nibbling and munching their way through the repast. Cathal deactivated his medical display; he really didn’t want to have his calorific intake tracked with such detail. Finally, after an hour of consumption and some light conversation they were both satisfied. Cathal had rather missed the information intake that had been part of his ritual be it newspaper, tablet or implanted display. But there was no cross-time internet connection here. I wonder if I could create a small messenger drone as have the papers delivered?, he thought to himself.
“So what are your plans for today”, Emily asked him. Cathal thought for a moment, “I don’t really have any. Pick your brain a bit, if you’re happy with that. Finish establishing a base here. Or rather supervise the ‘bots doing that. Other than that my schedule is surprisingly free”. He was a little nonplussed; he was used to his days being fairly filled. Often involuntarily so. “I’m fine with answering your questions. Would you be OK with me moving my stuff up here and into the caves?, Emily cocked her head to one side curiously. “Moving in already? And we only met yesterday…” Cathal joked. “But, yeah I’m fine with you using this spot. I’ll be setting up a few bits and pieces, including the fabber, inside. Feel free to use them”. Emily’s eyes practically glowed.
¹ Thomas Noon, Introduction to Polytonic Etiology, Phaxet Press, Tychograd, 1ed 2834.
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Catsmate
13th Incarnation
It's complicated....
Posts: 3,756
Favourite Doctors: Thirteen, Six, Five, Two, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, One, Nine...
Traits: Eccentric, Insatiable Curiousity.
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Post by Catsmate on Sept 22, 2022 14:04:24 GMT
FYI this thread isn't dead, I actually have two more parts completed but they're not in chronological order. Hopefully this weekend....
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