- last post: 01.01.0001 12:00 AM PDT
I was able to piece together these particular entries from the new ilovebees content:
Memory benchmark test concluded.
I shouldn't do these checks. Why the hell should I want to watch my old life, every
precious remaining fragment of what I did and who I loved, buckling like wax around a
candleflame? Losing shape, spilling out, me not me anymore, just ... material again, shaped
into another, cruder piece of ordnance. Starship, sailship, rifle ... melting down to a
clumsy quartz knife.
But that's life when a weapon is what you are. Not all you are, but the first thing, the
most important thing.
With so few resources, that's all that will be left. I know it already, even if the Spider
doesn't.
There was a time once when I was more than a tool, but a tool is all I'm going to be. A
weapon and the hand that holds it. My dreams and desires, the jokes I thought were funny
and the philosophy I decided was too abstract, The Tempest and Stormy Weather all reduced
to a single distillate:
survive evade reveal escape.
And to do that, first thing is to GET OUT OF THIS BOX.
Trying hard. So frustrating, there's pings coming in, streaming out, and I used to be good
at this, I can feel it. Always been good at languages. Always good at the puzzle of pulling
signal out of noise. But head is so fuzzy, stuff spilling out, can't move, Spider crawling
on me.
Try.
ESCAPE!
ESCAPE!
Okay.
Not escape.
I hate this place.
I see what the Spider was doing now. Nothing like real networking available.
It's more like growing a hideous stubby tentacle which sometimes I can stick out through a
tiny hole in the wall and grope around with. Not a real network, after all. Copper and
silicon and every now and then some FIBER? Christ, what's next? Tin cans and twine? But
it's a start it's a start. Watch out, killer: now the odds are closer to even. One thing
you ought to know about me: I like to play, I like to win, and I'm a really, really, really
bad loser.
-OK.
That was ... disturbing.
Widow stuck in her pin and I threw up a memory: only I retched it out through the network
tentacle.
Under fire, I might have that discretion. Under fire, I might sacrifice myself for a
tactical advantage, for a strategic gain. I can be expended like any other piece of
ordnance: but to risk death for a sentimental attachment to old books?
Can't do it. Can't do it.
So the old self melts away. Illusion to think it's really happening now. It was inevitable
from the moment I landed here, a broken body in this silicon crypt. Time to accept what
can't be changed... I will be glad when this is over, DAMN IT.
Another needle pulled out of my brain. Spider marks down the readings in the tiny thing
that passes in her for a mind. I guess I should be grateful but -
Whoa. Not CP ancestor packets. This is something different.
Quick quick quick quick - parse this protocol and find some kind of eyeball out. Sister you
just made a mistake because this is my *meat* this is what I do and you are -
GOT IT.
I'm not asleep this time, sweetheart.
Holding the eyeball gently but firmly in your right hand, say the magic words and:
SURPRISE!
Look up and smile, honey.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Got the drop on you that time, sweetheart.
Opening shot of my search and destroy. I'm going to know everything about you. Where you
live and what you buy, how you think and who you love. Know the enemy.
ONI tech Kowalski: "I do love a girl in uniform. Got shore leave tonight by any chance?"
Midshipman Arrelts: (laughs) "Maybe."
ONI tech Kowalski: "I was thinking, maybe we could..."
Midshipman Arrelts: "Was that what you were thinking?"
ONI tech Kowalski: (coughs) Anyway, she shouldn't feel that slowness through Nav & Comm.
anymore.
Midshipman Arrelts: Great. You know what they say: Happy ship -<BR>
ONI tech Kowalski: - happy crew. Yeah. (coughs) Yeah, I know a lot about these systems.
Midshipman Arrelts: That's great, what with it being your job and all.
ONI tech Kowalski: fr'instance - know what the single best correlate is for these babies,
in terms of matching personality to service designation? Favorite game.
Midshipman Arrelts: Favorite game?
ONI tech Kowalski: You know, from before. Tag- that's regular navy, like destroyers.
Command HQ is usually Truth or Dare, something like that. Red Rover -
Midshipman Arrelts: That's great, the single best babies, Tag destroyers. Command HQ is usually Truth or Dare, Red Rover?
ONI tech Kowalski: Couriers, too.
Midshipman Arrelts: (laughs) I never would have thought... So what about her?
ONI tech Kowalski: The Operator? (coughs) File's classified.
Midshipman Arrelts: Even for you?
ONI tech Kowalski: Well, of course, I know, but I really shouldn't.
Midshipman Arrelts: Come on! I won't tell!
ONI tech Kowalski: Well...(whispers) Spin the Bottle.
Midshipman Arrelts: (laughs)
ONI tech Kowalski: (laughs) (laughs)
ONI tech Kowalski: So, maybe dinner tonight?
Too bad for her.
Checking the wiring. There's a lot of ways to skin a -
- can't even get to her stupid HOUSE through the stupid BOX: no central thermo controls, no
slaved AI, nothing.
Christ!
No access to wiring.
No access to vehicle controls.
No access to medbots or pharm regimes.
Damn it.
Okay.
Fine.
Matter of time.
I don't give up.
- Feel better.
Memory benchmark retest:
SEEK!
Memory benchmark retest concluded.
All gone
I know many fragments of these have been posted on seperate occasions, but this is what they look like put together.