Re: The Fatal Conflict! (GBS2G7) (Round 2: Robo City!)
05-04-2011, 05:11 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.
Had Scott had a choice, he could think of any number of places he'd rather have appeared. Munitions storage (the next item on the plan he'd been provided), for example. Or a stasis chamber until the end of the round. Or... well, basically anywhere that wasn't in front of one massive robot and surrounded by other, more reasonably-sized ones.
There was a single bipedal robot standing next to the central one, and had Scott not been busy being quickly captured by a pair of sentries, he might've noticed that it was wired directly in. An even if he had, he still wouldn't've been able to hear the milliseconds-long dialogue between the two. All he did hear was the voice of the smaller of the two, speaking in a dull monotone that managed to convey neither of the intended weight and propriety the words should've held.
"Unknown organic: the security systems in this chamber have registered your nature as both biological and technological."
Scott's mind raced, not sure what the slowly-advancing robot was getting at. Why weren't they killing him already?
"There are several prophecy scripts concerning this great city." It extended one hand to its left as it walked. "The most widely-held, the most recently-compiled, is the script of prophet See.Sharp. This script describes the presence of organics and the coming apocalypse."
So wait, if we're supposed to be bringing the apocalypse, does that mean they want us dead or alive?
"In this situation, however, this script encounters several parsing errors. There is another, older script, that was compiled on sacred punch-cards long before much of this city came to be, and that script executes flawlessly at this time." The robot extended its other hand, holding both out as it moved forward. "It too speaks of an apocalypse, but also of an arbiter, one who shall decide the fates of animal and machine alike."
Okay, good, I've at least got a chance, then. Maybe this arbiter will be a bit more lenient than just "kill all humans."
"The scripts say that if a being appears, borne by both biology and technology, and if the walls of this very city are threatened, then that being is sent by the programmers themselves to guide us through the dark times."
...Oh no.
The robot was just a few meters away now. "You, unknown organic, have fulfilled the specifications. Just as grave dangers threaten us, you have come to us. Even Our Singularity cannot deny the parameters."
Oh no.
The robot stopped barely half a meter in front of Scott and brought its hands together. "You shall be equipped for your duties, Arbiter, and then you shall lead us into battle against the beings threatening our walls."
Ohhh no.
"Prepare, Arbiter, for your destiny."
Oh nnn... Scott's thoughts trailed into nothingness as one of his captors jabbed a needle into him and pumped sedatives into his veins.
-
If there was one thing robots could be counted on for, it was precision. Scott began to come to just as his captors were dragging him into the cell, and he was nearly fully-conscious by the time they threw him onto the rather luxurious bed. For some reason, his chest remained numb, but his mind was clearing, at least.
His full faculties returned just as the robots closed the door behind themselves, and it didn't take long for him to realize "cell" was probably the wrong word. He'd assumed, based on his treatment, that he'd be locked in a dim cell until they came for him again. The polished wooden doors, the huge windows with a majestic view of the city, the big, soft bed- all seemed more fit for an honoured guest than for a prisoner.
Of course, the bars on the windows and the seal around the door made it obvious that he was indeed a prisoner. Just... one they wanted to treat nicely, he supposed.
Checking his pockets, he only found the small, smartphone-like device- evidently they'd seen fit to let him keep it. Idly activating it, it flashed with indications that there were two new files- changelog.txt and emstobuf.man. Scott opened the first, wondering what they'd changed about the device.
It didn't take long to figure out that it hadn't been the device altered at all. "Installed electromagnetic storage buffer unit," it read, "see emstobuf.man for details."
He put a hand to his still-numb chest and felt, under his shirt (which they'd evidently had the courtesy to un- and re-button rather than simply tearing open), a hard, metallic bump that definitely hadn't been there before. Carefully unbuttoning his shirt, he looked down at what could only be the "electromagnetic storage buffer unit."
It was a circular device, maybe five centimeters across, embedded in his chest quite near his heart. There were two movable panels on the front- one of them could be slid down, revealing a tiny button, a set of jumper pins, and a two-digit display. For the moment, the display read 07, but as he looked at it, it ticked up to 08. The other slid up, revealing a pair of specialized-looking plugs.
Opening up emstobuf.man, Scott found a rather technical guide to the functions of the jumper pins. As they were set now, the system was apparently "engaged." The other options likely to be used were, according to the man file, "disengaged" and "inverted."
He stood up, put the PDA in his pocket, and went to a window. His watch said it'd been only an hour or so since he'd encountered the two barbarian warrior people (if there were two things robots could be counted on for, they were precision and efficiency), so he supposed it shouldn't be too shocking that none of them had been killed yet. Still- he rather doubted Zaire was terribly pleased by the lack of action. He had probably been hoping for blood several times over by this point.
And here he was, trapped in a cage and vulnerable to anyone who happened to come and get him, including robots keen to turn him into their saviour or other competitors keen to kill him just to survive. He had to escape, to get out, to run far enough away that none of them could catch him.
There was very little in the room, but, wrenching open the closet, he found a medium-sized case, rather reminiscent of a traveller's suitcase- tiny wheels, extendable handle, and all. Opening it, he found a few odd devices, one of which looked like a weapon and all of which looked like they plugged into the ports on the thing embedded in his chest. There was also a full set of clothes, including a big, dramatic robe that appeared perfectly sized to billow behind him as he walked. (He tried it out a few times and had to admit that it was rather cool.) Packing it back in the case, though, he decided that he could mess with things later. For now, he had to go.
The luxurious cell was fairly roomy, large enough for him to run around in (admittedly rather small) circles. He'd get his heart rate up, jump out of here, and just keep jumping and running until he left the whole blasted city behind.
Three minutes later, he stopped, panting. Why hadn't he jumped yet? He'd worked up a sweat, his heart was pounding hard as ever, but he was still here, in the cell.
It only took moments for the epiphany to strike, and he scrambled for the man file. It took a few more moments for him to manage the jumper pins with just his fingernails, but he soon had them reconfigured to "inverted."
The device, he reasoned, must be siphoning the extra energy that the generator in his heart put out, storing it rather than letting it send him jumping around in time. The man file was very technical and not terribly useful, but his best guess said that the moment he pressed the button, the reconfigured jumper pins would be loaded, and the thing would switch directions and dump the energy back into his artificial nerves and send him even further through time than normal. After all that running around, the thing's display just read 12- still, if an increase of four was about equivalent to that much running around, then a full twelve whatever-units would likely be the most powerful jump he'd ever made. With any luck, it'd be powerful enough to take him far away from this place.
He braced himself, held the case's handle tight in one hand, and pressed the reset button. There was a massive flash of light and a deafening, electrical crack, and he vanished once more into the timestream, hoping to land somewhere quiet, far away, and devoid of anything that wanted anything to do with him.
Had Scott had a choice, he could think of any number of places he'd rather have appeared. Munitions storage (the next item on the plan he'd been provided), for example. Or a stasis chamber until the end of the round. Or... well, basically anywhere that wasn't in front of one massive robot and surrounded by other, more reasonably-sized ones.
There was a single bipedal robot standing next to the central one, and had Scott not been busy being quickly captured by a pair of sentries, he might've noticed that it was wired directly in. An even if he had, he still wouldn't've been able to hear the milliseconds-long dialogue between the two. All he did hear was the voice of the smaller of the two, speaking in a dull monotone that managed to convey neither of the intended weight and propriety the words should've held.
"Unknown organic: the security systems in this chamber have registered your nature as both biological and technological."
Scott's mind raced, not sure what the slowly-advancing robot was getting at. Why weren't they killing him already?
"There are several prophecy scripts concerning this great city." It extended one hand to its left as it walked. "The most widely-held, the most recently-compiled, is the script of prophet See.Sharp. This script describes the presence of organics and the coming apocalypse."
So wait, if we're supposed to be bringing the apocalypse, does that mean they want us dead or alive?
"In this situation, however, this script encounters several parsing errors. There is another, older script, that was compiled on sacred punch-cards long before much of this city came to be, and that script executes flawlessly at this time." The robot extended its other hand, holding both out as it moved forward. "It too speaks of an apocalypse, but also of an arbiter, one who shall decide the fates of animal and machine alike."
Okay, good, I've at least got a chance, then. Maybe this arbiter will be a bit more lenient than just "kill all humans."
"The scripts say that if a being appears, borne by both biology and technology, and if the walls of this very city are threatened, then that being is sent by the programmers themselves to guide us through the dark times."
...Oh no.
The robot was just a few meters away now. "You, unknown organic, have fulfilled the specifications. Just as grave dangers threaten us, you have come to us. Even Our Singularity cannot deny the parameters."
Oh no.
The robot stopped barely half a meter in front of Scott and brought its hands together. "You shall be equipped for your duties, Arbiter, and then you shall lead us into battle against the beings threatening our walls."
Ohhh no.
"Prepare, Arbiter, for your destiny."
Oh nnn... Scott's thoughts trailed into nothingness as one of his captors jabbed a needle into him and pumped sedatives into his veins.
-
If there was one thing robots could be counted on for, it was precision. Scott began to come to just as his captors were dragging him into the cell, and he was nearly fully-conscious by the time they threw him onto the rather luxurious bed. For some reason, his chest remained numb, but his mind was clearing, at least.
His full faculties returned just as the robots closed the door behind themselves, and it didn't take long for him to realize "cell" was probably the wrong word. He'd assumed, based on his treatment, that he'd be locked in a dim cell until they came for him again. The polished wooden doors, the huge windows with a majestic view of the city, the big, soft bed- all seemed more fit for an honoured guest than for a prisoner.
Of course, the bars on the windows and the seal around the door made it obvious that he was indeed a prisoner. Just... one they wanted to treat nicely, he supposed.
Checking his pockets, he only found the small, smartphone-like device- evidently they'd seen fit to let him keep it. Idly activating it, it flashed with indications that there were two new files- changelog.txt and emstobuf.man. Scott opened the first, wondering what they'd changed about the device.
It didn't take long to figure out that it hadn't been the device altered at all. "Installed electromagnetic storage buffer unit," it read, "see emstobuf.man for details."
He put a hand to his still-numb chest and felt, under his shirt (which they'd evidently had the courtesy to un- and re-button rather than simply tearing open), a hard, metallic bump that definitely hadn't been there before. Carefully unbuttoning his shirt, he looked down at what could only be the "electromagnetic storage buffer unit."
It was a circular device, maybe five centimeters across, embedded in his chest quite near his heart. There were two movable panels on the front- one of them could be slid down, revealing a tiny button, a set of jumper pins, and a two-digit display. For the moment, the display read 07, but as he looked at it, it ticked up to 08. The other slid up, revealing a pair of specialized-looking plugs.
Opening up emstobuf.man, Scott found a rather technical guide to the functions of the jumper pins. As they were set now, the system was apparently "engaged." The other options likely to be used were, according to the man file, "disengaged" and "inverted."
He stood up, put the PDA in his pocket, and went to a window. His watch said it'd been only an hour or so since he'd encountered the two barbarian warrior people (if there were two things robots could be counted on for, they were precision and efficiency), so he supposed it shouldn't be too shocking that none of them had been killed yet. Still- he rather doubted Zaire was terribly pleased by the lack of action. He had probably been hoping for blood several times over by this point.
And here he was, trapped in a cage and vulnerable to anyone who happened to come and get him, including robots keen to turn him into their saviour or other competitors keen to kill him just to survive. He had to escape, to get out, to run far enough away that none of them could catch him.
There was very little in the room, but, wrenching open the closet, he found a medium-sized case, rather reminiscent of a traveller's suitcase- tiny wheels, extendable handle, and all. Opening it, he found a few odd devices, one of which looked like a weapon and all of which looked like they plugged into the ports on the thing embedded in his chest. There was also a full set of clothes, including a big, dramatic robe that appeared perfectly sized to billow behind him as he walked. (He tried it out a few times and had to admit that it was rather cool.) Packing it back in the case, though, he decided that he could mess with things later. For now, he had to go.
The luxurious cell was fairly roomy, large enough for him to run around in (admittedly rather small) circles. He'd get his heart rate up, jump out of here, and just keep jumping and running until he left the whole blasted city behind.
Three minutes later, he stopped, panting. Why hadn't he jumped yet? He'd worked up a sweat, his heart was pounding hard as ever, but he was still here, in the cell.
It only took moments for the epiphany to strike, and he scrambled for the man file. It took a few more moments for him to manage the jumper pins with just his fingernails, but he soon had them reconfigured to "inverted."
The device, he reasoned, must be siphoning the extra energy that the generator in his heart put out, storing it rather than letting it send him jumping around in time. The man file was very technical and not terribly useful, but his best guess said that the moment he pressed the button, the reconfigured jumper pins would be loaded, and the thing would switch directions and dump the energy back into his artificial nerves and send him even further through time than normal. After all that running around, the thing's display just read 12- still, if an increase of four was about equivalent to that much running around, then a full twelve whatever-units would likely be the most powerful jump he'd ever made. With any luck, it'd be powerful enough to take him far away from this place.
He braced himself, held the case's handle tight in one hand, and pressed the reset button. There was a massive flash of light and a deafening, electrical crack, and he vanished once more into the timestream, hoping to land somewhere quiet, far away, and devoid of anything that wanted anything to do with him.