From: ja9016@pegasus.cc.ucf.edu (John "Cain" Aedo)
Subject: Computer Lab Apocalypse - Hardware
Date: Wed Feb 08 14:16:57 MET 1995

Author's Note:  There are many "inside" references within this work that
have local significance.  I hope, however, that the story has a more
general appeal and can be enjoyed by all.  Oh, and pardon the Beavis and
Butthead references.  Again, they're inside jokes.  <grin>

 		    Computer Lab Apocalypse - Hardware
			     by John J. Aedo

	His chest still ached from his healing ribs.  The slap-patches
kept the edge off the occasional stabs of pain, but it would still be a
while before the nanosurgeons finished the job.  Andrew used to like
being a lab consultant.  Then he experienced his first combat run.  Now
he wasn't sure about things.  At least today, his shift was in the
Engineering Lab, where all the computer whizzes hung out.  It was an easy
shift.  Nobody asked questions.  They knew what they were doing, and then
some.  They were also a more civil lot.  They didn't bother anybody,
nobody bothered them.  All-in-all, a sweet shift.
	Andrew passed through the security scanners with the usual
grumbled complaint.  He passed an acknowledging nod to an oblivious Jeff,
who was catatonic in his neural feedback loop.  Jeff was wired hardcore.
Some say his portable deck's OS had permanently fused with his brain.
Half of his brain kept his body alive, the other half ran the deck.
Andrew checked the clock and noticed Jeff had been on shift for six hours
now.  How did the boy stay alive?  Didn't he eat?  Didn't he sleep?  He
was tempted to just rip the plugs right out of their sockets...but that
would be too cruel.  You could kill someone like that.
	Beyond the armored partition, the lab writhed with a frenzy of
blinking lights and chrome.  The Mechanical Engineering Robotics team
huddled in a corner over a heap of metal and a single terminal.  Nobody
questioned the Engineers' activities, for fear of some vague, yet swift
retribution.  What did they hold over Computer Services?  These geniuses
were allowed free reign on campus, especially where Engineering and
Computer Sciences was concerned.  They gave the school a good reputation
and attracted more talent.  The Administration brushed aside all rules,
regulations, and ethics for their sake.  Despite internal politicing, the
technical departments held fast to their pet prodigies.
	"So..umm...the printers okay?..." asked Andrew pointlessly.
	"Oh, what's the use...."  He returned to twiddling with the
consultant's terminal.
	Time passed...  Andrew ran into Jeff a few times on the Matrix.
He couldn't help notice Jeff's icon -- a full three-dimensional rendering
of Hobbes from the "Calvin and Hobbes" cartoons.  It's never the same
each time, though.  He's got it linked to a scripts which generates
random icons.  Boring.  Andrew preferred the real-time VR servers to
system wizardry.  His VR alter-ego, "Mask," was well known across three dozen
servers.  After a few years, he'd become a net.personage.  It suited him just
fine.  That's how you get the cyberbabes.
	"Excuse me, but...huh-huh-huhuhuhuh-huh-hu-hu...we are in need of
assitance.  Are you the lab consultant?"
	Andrew looked up in amazement.  One of the little mutant engineer
twerps asked him a question.  He looked up again, and rubbed his eyes.
	"Why...yes I am.  What is it exactly that you need?"
	"We require your presence..."
	"Excuse me?"
	"Yes...we are having trouble...booting a machine..."
	Andrew blinked and shook his head, "You're having
trouble...booting a machine???"
	"That's what I said.  Is that not your job?"
	"Well, yes, but...but..."
	"Please.  We cannot get the machine booted."
	He sighed in resignation, "Okay..where's the machine?"
	"Over in the corner.  My classmates are...still having difficulties."
	Sure enough, a half dozen students sat huddled around the
terminal, apparently transfixed in frustration.  Well, there's a first
time for everything, thought Andrew.  He grabbed a boot chip out of the
drawer and left the partition.  The little kid fell in step slightly
behind him.
	The lab area looked like a chrome Lego model exploded
everywhere.  Tiny servo units still twitched under Andrew's shoes as he
walked.  It felt like walking on potato chips.  The engineers didn't seem
to mind; apparently it was refuse.  The station in question was
surrounded by a framework of esoteric instrumentation.  Some of the
engineers frantically tweaked it on the myriad of control panels that
jutted out at random angles.
	"Cecil, we've got our alphas peaking at 4.5 now.  We can't
stabilize beta, though.  I believe we should make it independent of the
amperage..."
	The little boy turned to his compatriot, "Do what it takes!
We are too close to surrender to a meager .04 variance."
	Andrew blinked.
	"But we'll lose his-- err...  We'll 'damage' vital components."
	"The 'components' are expendable.  Dr. Feinstein said to spare no
expense.  The project is due tomorrow for the Technology Fair."
	"Very well.  We must boot the computer."
	Andrew blinked.
	"Consultant, the machine is not initializing to our neural
pattern.  It says 'BAD COMMAND.COM' upon loading.  Perhaps it will load
your pattern successfully."
	Andrew blinked, "Well..uhh...the neural boot should work for
everyone.  I don't see why it doesn't recognize your patterns--"
	"We have attempted a boot at least four times."
	"Okay, but I don't see how my pattern will make a difference..."
Andrew brushed aside a probe arm and sat in the chair.  The vidboard
blinked a bright "BAD COMMAND.COM" message on the screen.  The boot chip
clicked neatly in its slot on the side of the machine.  He drew the
electrode mesh over his head and pressed in the sticky dermal contacts.
The RESET button clicked softly and power surged through the 'trodes.
	"NOW, Emerson!"  The metal framework around the station came
alive and its various appendages wrapped tight around Andrew.
	Before the neural boot grabbed his consciousness, he noticed the
metal arms closing around him, "Hey!  What's all this?  What's going on?"
	"Do not worry, Consultant.  It will not hurt...much."
	"HEY!!!  YOU CAN'T DO THIS!!!  THIS IS IN VIOLATION OF CO--"
	>THUD<  His lights went out.
	"That fake neural logon worked as planned, Cecil.  You are to be
congratulated."
	"Thank you, Germaine.  Now verify his neural pattern integrity in the
buffer."
	"Hmm...he suffered a .04 degree pattern degradation.  I told you
we should have checked against the variance!"
	"That's more than enough.  We only need a .6 degree pattern
integrity.  Now, perform the transfer!  Igor, THE SWITCH!!!"
	Lights flickered and some machines rebooted.  In a corner, under
some tarps, sparks flew.  The gaggle of young engineers settled into a
hush and stared in utter amazement.  The project was complete.  Cecil
took a control panel from the framework and slid his hand across like a
virtuoso.  The tarp shuddered.
	"Give me thirty milliamps!  We need more POWER!"
	"Thirty milliamps...sending..."
	The tarp shook violently and finally fell off the creation it
hid.  Two meters of humanoid steel and machinery stood erect before its
creators.
	"IT'S ALIIIIVE!!!!!!" They exclaimed in unison.
	Andrew lay unconscious in the chair.  Yet somewhere his mind
floated in an ether.  He couldn't see anything past a milky fog in front
of him.  Somewhere behind him he heard a rhythmic beep in time with some
unseen clock.
	CYBERNETIC OPERATING SYSTEM VERSION 2.11
	COPYRIGHT 2025 DR. AMBROSE FEINSTEIN
	"What the fuck is that?" Muttered Andrew from somewhere in his
sheathe of consciousness.
	NEURAL PATCH LOADED...
	PATTERNS MATCHED...PERIPHERALS ACTIVE.
	Andrew's vision suddenly snapped clear and found himself staring
at the little geniuses, who gawked in marvel.  "What the fuck did you
little shits do to me?"
	"Uhh..  Cecil, we've got a little problem."
	"Yes?..."
	"Remember that .04 variance?"
	Cecil gulped, "Yes..."
	"It didn't exactly filter out the personality matrix."
	"His personality slipped in through the .04..."
	"That would be bad."
	The robot stood up from its resting place.  Cords and cables that
connected to the various stations around it drew taut.
	"ABORT!!!  ABORT!!!  ABORT THE PROCESS!!!"
	>snap< >snap< >snap<
	"WE CAN'T!  IT'S SEVERED THE COMMAND CABLES!!!"
	"You guys are going to pay!"  The robot moved forward, crashing
its metal boot into the floor and stomping forward.
	"Suggested course of action, Cecil?"
	"RUN!!!!"
	It was too late.  The metal giant grabbed Cedric by the lapels
with one arm and flung him into the far wall.  Cedric hit with multiple
cracks and snaps associated with about two hundred human bones.
	"HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!  I need geekies for my bunghole!"
laughed Andrew.
	One of the kids ran to another station and pulled the tarp off
another device, "EAT PROTONS, METALFACE!"	
	The device fired a stream of electric blue, hitting the Andrew
robot square in the chest.
	"Are you threatening me?  I am the Great Consultio!  I need
geekies for my bunghole!" Andrew shrugged off the blast and returned with
a backhanded swipe that knocked the machine and its gunner to the floor.
Another genius lept onto Andrew's leg and tried to climb onto his back.
A metal hand picked him off and sent him flying head-first into a
computer monitor.
	Most of the engineers bolted from the lab, except for Germaine,
who remained by the original Andrew's limp body.
	"One wrong move, robot, and I'll SLICE IT!" threatened Germaine,
holding an X-acto knife to the body's neck.
	"You realize that if you do that, I'll personally see to it that
you don't live to see puberty."
	"Yeah, but you'll never be human again, asshole!"
	"My, my, my, such language!  Didn't your mommie every tell you
that's rude?"
	"Shut up!  Stay away or you'll bite it!"
	"You know, I don't mind being stuck in a robot body.  I'm quite
satisfied to see you die painfully and slowly and living on in immortality."
	"You just hate us because we're younger and smarter than you!"
	"No, we hate you because you're obnoxious twerps who can get away
with murder just because you're our Pet Prodigies.  Heck, I'll kill you
now anyways and figure out the damn machine myself..."
	One wall redecoration (red with grey specks) and several system manuals
later, and Andrew finally flexed a flesh arm in triumph.  The metal shell
lay dead beside him.  He shook off the electrodes and vowed never to
leave the consultant's partition.  Back in the consultants' area, Jeff
also shrugged off his 'trodes.
	As Andrew walked in, Jeff looked up and asked, "Hey, what's up?
Is everything okay in the lab?"
	Andrew grunted, "Yeah, no problems.  The Medevac team should
arrive any minute now..."

END



--
[ John J. Aedo, one hoopy frood that really knows where his towel is. ]
"Don't imagine you know what a computer terminal is.
A computer terminal is not some clunky old television with a typewriter in
front of it.  It is an interface where the mind and body can connect with
the universe and move bits of it about." -- Douglas Adams, _Mostly_Harmless_