Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Hot and Humid
I voted early yesterday. I was able to do a bit of research, although not enough. It's hard to do research for a primary when there's not much information out there about some races. The attorney general race is a prime example. There are two candidates for the Republican nomination for attorney general. I have no clue about either one, and there's not much information out there, either. It's hard enough to decide how to vote in this day and age of everyone claiming to be "conservative" to try to earn votes. It's harder when there's no way to check out their claims.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Hot
The weather here is hot. Really hot. Hot enough that it would probably be possible to fry an egg on the sidewalk. In fact, it's hot like Appalachian State. (Watch the video at this link and make it through the 1st verse to get the joke.)
Monday, July 12, 2010
Really?
I was reading this article from the Reuters earlier today, and I stared in shock at the start of the 2nd paragraph. It ran as follows: "The two-year-old octopus with possible psychic powers...."
Ok, hold on a minute. Yes, Paul the octopus did happen to "predict" the winner of 8 World Cup games, but that hardly seems to justify the use of the phrase "possible psychic powers." Never mind that the whole concept of psychic powers is absurd (and that the reference to them reveals something about the worldview of the reporter, a New Age and/or pagan worldview). The odds are 1/256 of picking 8 winners completely at random (as Paul obviously did). While unlikely, that certainly is possible. It is no different than flipping a coin 8 times and getting heads 8 times. It can happen because the sample size is so small.
I find it shocking that people are willing to believe that an octopus is somehow "psychic" because he happens to get lucky on 8 separate games, yet they are unwilling to believe in the existence of a Creator God when any study of nature reveals that it is highly, highly improbable that life as we know it could have evolved. The odds of any single system of the human body independently evolving is so much greater than an octopus getting 8 games correct. People are willing to believe that something supernatural allowed the octopus to beat the odds. Why aren't they willing to believe in something supernatural when it comes to life existing?
Ok, hold on a minute. Yes, Paul the octopus did happen to "predict" the winner of 8 World Cup games, but that hardly seems to justify the use of the phrase "possible psychic powers." Never mind that the whole concept of psychic powers is absurd (and that the reference to them reveals something about the worldview of the reporter, a New Age and/or pagan worldview). The odds are 1/256 of picking 8 winners completely at random (as Paul obviously did). While unlikely, that certainly is possible. It is no different than flipping a coin 8 times and getting heads 8 times. It can happen because the sample size is so small.
I find it shocking that people are willing to believe that an octopus is somehow "psychic" because he happens to get lucky on 8 separate games, yet they are unwilling to believe in the existence of a Creator God when any study of nature reveals that it is highly, highly improbable that life as we know it could have evolved. The odds of any single system of the human body independently evolving is so much greater than an octopus getting 8 games correct. People are willing to believe that something supernatural allowed the octopus to beat the odds. Why aren't they willing to believe in something supernatural when it comes to life existing?
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Election Season Has Begun (yay?)
With less than a month to go before the primary on August 3rd, election season in Kansas is heating up. The big news is the primary for the Senate seat being vacated by Senator Brownback. The two challengers, Moran and Tiahrt, have spent most of the past two months trying to portray themselves as more conservative than the other guy. The amount of effort that they're going to, especially Moran, is a bit sickening. Just show us your record and let it speak for itself. Who is more conservative? Well, I think it depends on what measures you use. I would say that Moran is barely (just barely) more conservative fiscally (if there is such a thing in Washington anymore, which I doubt) but that Tiahrt is more conservative socially. Both, in reality, are probably fiscal moderates and social conservatives of some sort.
The problem, really, is that there simply aren't enough politicians in the entire government who are true fiscal conservatives, which is what this country probably needs more than anything right now. Yes, there are important social & moral issues that need to be dealt with. The current leadership, however, is spending money like they're making it in the cellar. As a registered Republican voter, I need to decide who I'm going to vote for. What I really want to see, of course, is a candidate who is fiscally and socially conservative. They apparently don't exist. I'd settle for someone who is fiscally conservative and won't allow a liberal social agenda. Since I have neither of those options, I'll wait a little while longer before I make my decision, although I'm leaning one way over the other.
The problem, really, is that there simply aren't enough politicians in the entire government who are true fiscal conservatives, which is what this country probably needs more than anything right now. Yes, there are important social & moral issues that need to be dealt with. The current leadership, however, is spending money like they're making it in the cellar. As a registered Republican voter, I need to decide who I'm going to vote for. What I really want to see, of course, is a candidate who is fiscally and socially conservative. They apparently don't exist. I'd settle for someone who is fiscally conservative and won't allow a liberal social agenda. Since I have neither of those options, I'll wait a little while longer before I make my decision, although I'm leaning one way over the other.
Sunday, July 04, 2010
Happy 4th of July!
Today is an exciting day in American history! It was on this date in 1776 that we officially adopted the Declaration of Independence, marking our separation from Great Britain as a separate nation. While the Declaration probably wasn't fully signed until August, the Declaration itself lists July 4th as the date of the Declaration. It is a convenient date to use to commemorate the founding of the United States of America.
I have to take a moment to praise and thank God for the blessings I have of living in America. From the resources to the political, economic, and religious freedom with which we as a nation have been blessed, thank you, Lord!
Bashing America has become fashionable. While it is true that as a country, America has never fully lived up to its ideals, it is still not right to focus solely on the mistakes made by us. Yes, as a country, we have done evil. Yet we have also done good. From World War II to humanitarian aid to economic development, the United States has done much good in this world.
So, at least for one day, let's forget about the problems of the country and celebrate what has been done well for 234 years. Tomorrow, the problems will still be there, and we can do our best to solve them then.
I have to take a moment to praise and thank God for the blessings I have of living in America. From the resources to the political, economic, and religious freedom with which we as a nation have been blessed, thank you, Lord!
Bashing America has become fashionable. While it is true that as a country, America has never fully lived up to its ideals, it is still not right to focus solely on the mistakes made by us. Yes, as a country, we have done evil. Yet we have also done good. From World War II to humanitarian aid to economic development, the United States has done much good in this world.
So, at least for one day, let's forget about the problems of the country and celebrate what has been done well for 234 years. Tomorrow, the problems will still be there, and we can do our best to solve them then.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
A Reprieve from Summer
A temporary reprieve from the hot summer weather has arrived. After a week plus of temperatures in the middle and upper 90s, temperatures have cooled down into the 80s. With lows in the 60s, it's definitely a night to open the windows and let some fresh air into the house. Unfortunately, I know that the hottest days of summer are still ahead, in July and August. So, I'm planning on enjoying the nicer weather while it lasts.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
World Cup -- The U.S. Undone
Well, the U.S. made it as far as I expected from them at this World Cup. Anything farther would have been a bonus. I'm proud of what they've done and how they showed resiliency to recover from being consistently behind. Unfortunately, that tendency to play from behind, along with an inexplicable habit of giving away goals in the first 5 minutes of games, led to their downfall. If they don't concede that early goal, they game would have been very different. I'm not sure if the U.S. would have won, though. Ghana had so much speed, and we didn't have the central defenders to match. Once the game reached extra time, we looked tired. Having to play from behind constantly will wear a team out, and the team looked tired as they played out the final minutes.
It was a great run by this U.S. team. It will be interesting to see what sort of team we assemble in 4 years. Several of the players on this year's team will be gone, and it will be hard to replace them. The biggest challenges, in my mind, are solidifying the defense and finding a consistently 2nd center midfielder to complement Bradley. We'll see what happens. Either way, this year's team gave us an enjoyable experience.
It was a great run by this U.S. team. It will be interesting to see what sort of team we assemble in 4 years. Several of the players on this year's team will be gone, and it will be hard to replace them. The biggest challenges, in my mind, are solidifying the defense and finding a consistently 2nd center midfielder to complement Bradley. We'll see what happens. Either way, this year's team gave us an enjoyable experience.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
The Effect of Worldview on News Reporting
Worldview shapes what events reporters cover, how they cover them, and even which pictures they choose for their stories. To illustrate this effect, read these two articles, one from Fox News and one from CNN.
Can you tell the reporter's opinion of the events that are occurring, even though it's never directly stated? With the CNN article, it is pretty obvious. The picture alone tells the reader that CNN is opposed to the actions taken by Freemont, NE. The article itself views the measure in a negative light, as well. There is hardly any mention of why people this resolution and no interviews with supporters. The Fox News article also shows some evidence of bias. The picture at the start of the article tells the reader the view of the reporter (the opposite of CNN's picture). But Fox News at least tries to balance its coverage, having interviews with both sides of the debate.
In this case, the political worldviews that shape the two networks show up relatively clearly. Fox News, despite being derided as biased by liberals, comes out ahead in this case on being closer to balanced. CNN, which conservatives also deride as being biased, does worse in the neutrality issue. In each case, however, the event is interpreted through the reporter's/network's worldview. There's no way to prevent this. It is how we operate as humans, and it is one reason why we need to be wise in how we interact with the news reports that are out there. Sometimes, it is necessary to read two or three different reports to get the full story because reporters (unintentionally) angle their store as a result of their worldview.
Can you tell the reporter's opinion of the events that are occurring, even though it's never directly stated? With the CNN article, it is pretty obvious. The picture alone tells the reader that CNN is opposed to the actions taken by Freemont, NE. The article itself views the measure in a negative light, as well. There is hardly any mention of why people this resolution and no interviews with supporters. The Fox News article also shows some evidence of bias. The picture at the start of the article tells the reader the view of the reporter (the opposite of CNN's picture). But Fox News at least tries to balance its coverage, having interviews with both sides of the debate.
In this case, the political worldviews that shape the two networks show up relatively clearly. Fox News, despite being derided as biased by liberals, comes out ahead in this case on being closer to balanced. CNN, which conservatives also deride as being biased, does worse in the neutrality issue. In each case, however, the event is interpreted through the reporter's/network's worldview. There's no way to prevent this. It is how we operate as humans, and it is one reason why we need to be wise in how we interact with the news reports that are out there. Sometimes, it is necessary to read two or three different reports to get the full story because reporters (unintentionally) angle their store as a result of their worldview.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
World Cup Refereeing Comments
Refereeing soccer is not easy. Believe me, I know. I am a referee. I am nowhere near in the league of those men who take the field every 4 years at the World Cup, so I am almost always impressed by the manner in which these guys handle such intense pressure.
That said, the past few days have been full of controversial refereeing decisions, which is sad. It distracts from the beauty of the game. I understand how the referees must feel because I've been there myself. I've had to make difficult calls, issue red cards, and deal with irate parents, coaches, and players. I've had bad games. I've had great games. And, since I am not in a soccer-insane country like Colombia, my life is not in danger after a bad game.
The latest firestorm to hit the World Cup was the 2nd yellow and subsequent sending off of Brazilian star Kaka. While Brazil has taken issue with the red card (of course), and while the replay shows that the Cote d'Ivoire player exaggerated the contact, I still think Kaka's 2nd yellow was justified. Let me explain why. The reason, plain and simple, is that Kaka stepped into his opponent and raised his arm, trying to make the contact look incidental. It was Kaka who created the contact. It was, in my opinion, classic unsporting behavior. Now, should the Cote d'Ivoire player also have received a caution for exaggeration of the foul? Absolutely. The problem, however, is that from the referee's point of view, he could not see the contact and where it occurred. He was in proper position, and as a result, the players had their backs to him. The only way that the simulation on the part of the Cote d'Ivoire player could have been seen is if there were two more Assistant referees on the touch lines, one covering each quadrant. I think that might be unnecessary. Maybe not.
The only thing I've always found out about soccer is that there are 22 players on the field, operating in far more space than American football, and yet there are only 3 referees for the entire field. American football uses 6. Hockey uses 4 (I think). So, maybe it's time FIFA looked at adding some extra referees out on the field at the International level. I'm not sure exactly how it would work. Perhaps some sort of hybrid between the Diagonal System of Control and the 2-man system still used by high schools in the U.S. The system would still utilize 2 assistant referees with flags who are responsible for boundary decisions and offside and 2 referees, each of whom was responsible for one half of the field, looking for fouls and the like. I don't know. Maybe that wouldn't work.
Regardless, I completely agree with the referee's decision to caution and send off Kaka, and I'm sure that puts me in the minority. I don't care. I'm used to having a minority opinion. I am, after all, a referee.
That said, the past few days have been full of controversial refereeing decisions, which is sad. It distracts from the beauty of the game. I understand how the referees must feel because I've been there myself. I've had to make difficult calls, issue red cards, and deal with irate parents, coaches, and players. I've had bad games. I've had great games. And, since I am not in a soccer-insane country like Colombia, my life is not in danger after a bad game.
The latest firestorm to hit the World Cup was the 2nd yellow and subsequent sending off of Brazilian star Kaka. While Brazil has taken issue with the red card (of course), and while the replay shows that the Cote d'Ivoire player exaggerated the contact, I still think Kaka's 2nd yellow was justified. Let me explain why. The reason, plain and simple, is that Kaka stepped into his opponent and raised his arm, trying to make the contact look incidental. It was Kaka who created the contact. It was, in my opinion, classic unsporting behavior. Now, should the Cote d'Ivoire player also have received a caution for exaggeration of the foul? Absolutely. The problem, however, is that from the referee's point of view, he could not see the contact and where it occurred. He was in proper position, and as a result, the players had their backs to him. The only way that the simulation on the part of the Cote d'Ivoire player could have been seen is if there were two more Assistant referees on the touch lines, one covering each quadrant. I think that might be unnecessary. Maybe not.
The only thing I've always found out about soccer is that there are 22 players on the field, operating in far more space than American football, and yet there are only 3 referees for the entire field. American football uses 6. Hockey uses 4 (I think). So, maybe it's time FIFA looked at adding some extra referees out on the field at the International level. I'm not sure exactly how it would work. Perhaps some sort of hybrid between the Diagonal System of Control and the 2-man system still used by high schools in the U.S. The system would still utilize 2 assistant referees with flags who are responsible for boundary decisions and offside and 2 referees, each of whom was responsible for one half of the field, looking for fouls and the like. I don't know. Maybe that wouldn't work.
Regardless, I completely agree with the referee's decision to caution and send off Kaka, and I'm sure that puts me in the minority. I don't care. I'm used to having a minority opinion. I am, after all, a referee.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Rain!
Yesterday was a very rainy day, with over 1.75" of rain falling in the capital city. More rain fell to the east, where daytime heating, combined with a slow-moving front, set up cell after cell after cell rolling over the Kansas City metro area. More rain will probably fall today and tomorrow, which will result in more flash flooding in the Topeka area. The rain should also make soccer games tomorrow not possible, which is fine with me, since I'm still suffering from a cold and an injured ankle.
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
The Death of College Sports
Okay, maybe I'm being a bit over-the-top with my title, but the whole hoopla surrounding the conference "expansion" (read "destruction") going on in college athletics right now is showing just how out-of-touch major universities' athletic departments are with their institutions' goals. It used to be that athletics were considered a part of the educational experience, a way of helping the student body develop into well-rounded individuals. Sure, winning was nice, but as important was allowing athletics to play a part in molding the young men (and eventually women) into complete human beings. Somewhere along the way (maybe the 1970s?) this emphasis slowly disappeared. Now, major universities' athletics programs became about one thing only: money. The players and their interests no longer matter.
If you doubt my statement, consider what is driving all of this conference realignment nonsense. Does Nebraska really need to become part of the Big 10 (the conference that can't count because it has 11 teams)? Does the entire Big 12 south really need to join with the Pac-10 to form a new superconference? No! There is not one good reason as far as the athletes or their institutions' educational mission are concerned. The only reason is money, which is downright pathetic, short-sighted, and shallow.
I don't know if the NCAA can do anything about this situation, but it would seem to me that it would be appropriate for the NCAA to step in and say, "Nebraska, if you join the Big 10 (read "Big 11") then you are banned from postseason play." Or to say the same thing to the other Big 12 south schools. I don't know if the NCAA has that sort of power. They probably don't. But it is sad that a few schools (Nebraska and Texas, in particular) care only about themselves and more specifically only about money. Greed is vice, and several excellent universities (Kansas, Kansas State, and Iowa State) are going to find themselves relegated to 2nd class status because of the vices of other schools.
If you doubt my statement, consider what is driving all of this conference realignment nonsense. Does Nebraska really need to become part of the Big 10 (the conference that can't count because it has 11 teams)? Does the entire Big 12 south really need to join with the Pac-10 to form a new superconference? No! There is not one good reason as far as the athletes or their institutions' educational mission are concerned. The only reason is money, which is downright pathetic, short-sighted, and shallow.
I don't know if the NCAA can do anything about this situation, but it would seem to me that it would be appropriate for the NCAA to step in and say, "Nebraska, if you join the Big 10 (read "Big 11") then you are banned from postseason play." Or to say the same thing to the other Big 12 south schools. I don't know if the NCAA has that sort of power. They probably don't. But it is sad that a few schools (Nebraska and Texas, in particular) care only about themselves and more specifically only about money. Greed is vice, and several excellent universities (Kansas, Kansas State, and Iowa State) are going to find themselves relegated to 2nd class status because of the vices of other schools.
Summer Colds. Bah. Humbug.
I have managed to catch (achoo) a summer cold. And the drainage (achoo) from it was so bad that I couldn't (achoo) sleep last night due to the pain in my (achoo) throat. I'm not going to write any (sniffle) more right now. My thoughts (cough) are too scattered to make any sense. (achoo)
Monday, June 07, 2010
World Cup in Less than One Week
World Cup 2010 in South Africa starts on Friday, and I am excited! The U.S. is in a group that is favorable for them advancing out of group play. However, to do so, they must not play like many U.S. teams have in most of recent history once they reach the tournament stage. The U.S. tends to play one great game, one average game, and one mediocre game. We need two good games and one average game to get through. Otherwise, we'll be packing our bags and headed home after pool play. With the talent that this team has, there is no question that they should advance into the round of 16. Quite possibly, with a good break, we might even make it to the round of 8. The semi-finals are highly unlikely, and the final is probably out of the question. Then again, sports are notoriously unpredictable, and at this level, just about any team can beat any other on a given day. So, if we play well, we have a chance to progress a ways. If not, it will be like World Cup 2002 all over again.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Memorial Day 2010
Tomorrow is Memorial Day, the day on which Americans stop to commemorate those who lost their lives in defense of our country while in military service. Last year, if I remember correctly, I honored the members of my family who had served in the armed forces during World War II and Korea. They both lived through their combat experiences, however, so I wanted to take a moment to express thanks for the many men and women throughout the past 234 years who have died in order to preserve the political, social, economic, and religious freedom that I enjoy today in 2010. Without the sacrifice of all of these people, we as a nation would not be able to enjoy the prosperity with which God has blessed us. Instead, we would be under the rule of a king or a dictator, possibly speaking German (or Japanese, depending), and unable to assemble peacefully to petition our government for redress of grievances. In so many ways, life as we know it would not be possible. We would not be free.
Yet, sadly, in America, we have misunderstood what true freedom is. Freedom is not the right to do whatever we want. Rather, it is the power to do what we ought. In other words, freedom is not just a state of being, it is a responsibility. In this country, we have lived far too long neglecting the responsibilities inherent in our freedom. And that neglect is, in part, an insult to the sacrifice of those who died to preserve our freedom.
So, on this Memorial Day, you may not be able to go out to a cemetery and decorate the graves of veterans now deceased. You may not attend a parade. But you can still honor these brave soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice by becoming responsible with your freedom -- for example, engage in the the political process by being cognizant of the issues and by voting intelligently. Our freedom only will last as long as we the people allow it to last. Let's not waste that freedom, and in so doing dishonor those who have died for their country.
Yet, sadly, in America, we have misunderstood what true freedom is. Freedom is not the right to do whatever we want. Rather, it is the power to do what we ought. In other words, freedom is not just a state of being, it is a responsibility. In this country, we have lived far too long neglecting the responsibilities inherent in our freedom. And that neglect is, in part, an insult to the sacrifice of those who died to preserve our freedom.
So, on this Memorial Day, you may not be able to go out to a cemetery and decorate the graves of veterans now deceased. You may not attend a parade. But you can still honor these brave soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice by becoming responsible with your freedom -- for example, engage in the the political process by being cognizant of the issues and by voting intelligently. Our freedom only will last as long as we the people allow it to last. Let's not waste that freedom, and in so doing dishonor those who have died for their country.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
The Basic Gospel
In my post last week, I referenced the concept of the Gospel, which is the foundation of a Christian worldview. In brief, I would like to give an outline of the Gospel, with supporting Bible verses in parentheses.
1. We are all sinners. (Romans 3:23)
2. Our sins bring us under God's righteous judgment and separate us from God. (Romans 2:12)
3. The penalty for our sins is eternal death. (Romans 6:23)
4. Jesus Christ died on the cross to be a perfect sacrifice for our sins. (Romans 8:3,4)
5. Through faith in His work on the cross, we can be forgiven our sins and have our relationship with God restored. (Romans 6:23)
1. We are all sinners. (Romans 3:23)
2. Our sins bring us under God's righteous judgment and separate us from God. (Romans 2:12)
3. The penalty for our sins is eternal death. (Romans 6:23)
4. Jesus Christ died on the cross to be a perfect sacrifice for our sins. (Romans 8:3,4)
5. Through faith in His work on the cross, we can be forgiven our sins and have our relationship with God restored. (Romans 6:23)
Rambling: Gulf Oil Spill & Worldview
During my blogging hiatus, a horrendous disaster struck in the Gulf of Mexico. An offshore oil rig exploded and sank, causing an oil well to leak huge amounts of oil into the water. Safety measures on the rig and safety measures on the pipeline leading to the rig both failed to prevent the oil from spewing out.
The owners of the well, BP, have tried for nearly a month, now, to close off the well, with no success. Various techniques that traditionally work in these situations have failed, and now BP is getting set to try a radical approach that, if successful will plug the well. This attempt has about a 60% chance of succeeding, according to their estimates.
The mainstream media, of course, immediately spend hours and hours lambasting the executives of BP and generally making all sorts of noise about the "horrendous damage" caused to the environment by the oil spill. What's sad is that in the midst of all of this "green" reporting, the ultimate tragedy of the lost lives of the workers on the rig is being ignored or minimized. Who cares if several people lost their lives? There are herons, cranes, and storks who are covered in oil!
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that it's a good thing to have those birds covered in oil. It's not. But the underlying worldview of the media is a secular, humanist, evolutionist midst that all life on this world is equally valuable and should be treated exactly the same way. In other words, this worldview says, "Animals are people, too."
The only problem with this, though, is that animals are not that. They are not people. From a Biblical point of view, they are something less than humans. They are creations of God, yes, and we should be doing what we can to treat them well, given that we humans are supposed to be stewards of the Earth. But they are not the same as people, created in the image of God. There is something unique about us humans. We think. We create. We build. Even a secular humanist has to admit that there is something special about this "animal" called "man." That something unique is what the Bible clearly identifies as the imago Dei in us. Too often, though, we dismiss it or ignore it, at our own peril.
For if God made us in His image, doubtless He also expects us to give account for how we treat that image. Given how nasty, rude, disrespectful, and terrible we are to ourselves and each other, I'd say that none of us can claim that we have rightly seen His image as we ought. We all justly deserve God's judgment. And that's where the Gospel begins. The bad news is that we deserve to be judged for not mistreating what God has made. The good news is that through trusting in Jesus Christ's work on the cross, we can be forgiven of such mistreatment (sin) and be restored to a right relationship with God. But now I wander too far from my point. I'll save that for another post.
The owners of the well, BP, have tried for nearly a month, now, to close off the well, with no success. Various techniques that traditionally work in these situations have failed, and now BP is getting set to try a radical approach that, if successful will plug the well. This attempt has about a 60% chance of succeeding, according to their estimates.
The mainstream media, of course, immediately spend hours and hours lambasting the executives of BP and generally making all sorts of noise about the "horrendous damage" caused to the environment by the oil spill. What's sad is that in the midst of all of this "green" reporting, the ultimate tragedy of the lost lives of the workers on the rig is being ignored or minimized. Who cares if several people lost their lives? There are herons, cranes, and storks who are covered in oil!
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that it's a good thing to have those birds covered in oil. It's not. But the underlying worldview of the media is a secular, humanist, evolutionist midst that all life on this world is equally valuable and should be treated exactly the same way. In other words, this worldview says, "Animals are people, too."
The only problem with this, though, is that animals are not that. They are not people. From a Biblical point of view, they are something less than humans. They are creations of God, yes, and we should be doing what we can to treat them well, given that we humans are supposed to be stewards of the Earth. But they are not the same as people, created in the image of God. There is something unique about us humans. We think. We create. We build. Even a secular humanist has to admit that there is something special about this "animal" called "man." That something unique is what the Bible clearly identifies as the imago Dei in us. Too often, though, we dismiss it or ignore it, at our own peril.
For if God made us in His image, doubtless He also expects us to give account for how we treat that image. Given how nasty, rude, disrespectful, and terrible we are to ourselves and each other, I'd say that none of us can claim that we have rightly seen His image as we ought. We all justly deserve God's judgment. And that's where the Gospel begins. The bad news is that we deserve to be judged for not mistreating what God has made. The good news is that through trusting in Jesus Christ's work on the cross, we can be forgiven of such mistreatment (sin) and be restored to a right relationship with God. But now I wander too far from my point. I'll save that for another post.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Hiatus Over; Summer Weather
The school year is officially over, with graduation occurring yesterday. Just in time, summer-like weather has descended upon the Topeka area with a vengeance. It is hot and humid outside, with strong, south winds. Ah, yes, summer is here. And with it comes the return of blogging for me. The Sunday/Wednesday schedule will be back, with only a couple of interruptions, throughout the summer.
For now, I'll content myself to end on that note and save any other comments for the next post.
For now, I'll content myself to end on that note and save any other comments for the next post.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Commentary: VAT? No!
President Obama has started to say that a European-style VAT (Value-Added Tax) might be an option for the U.S. in order to address the deficit that his party's Congress and the monstrosity of a health-care bill created. In case you doubt me, here is the story.
My immediate reaction to this idea is an overwhelming "NO!" I generally oppose increasing taxes as a matter of principal. It is generally better for the economy to have low tax rates. Business seek those areas that have low tax rates (among other things) and tend to function better in those environments. So, a VAT, which would impose multiple levels of taxation on every level of the economy (and be hidden, since it would already be included in the price), would effectively hurt business while also stifling the spending power of the American consumer.
This suggestion to me shows how out of touch this Administration is with the American people. The majority did not want a debt-ballooning social medicine program. But the Democrats arrogantly said, "Too bad, we know better than you, so there." Now, on top of passing a bill we don't want, the Democrats are floating the idea of a tax that we don't want to pay for a social medicine program that we don't want.
And the Democrats wonder why there is such voter backlash....
My immediate reaction to this idea is an overwhelming "NO!" I generally oppose increasing taxes as a matter of principal. It is generally better for the economy to have low tax rates. Business seek those areas that have low tax rates (among other things) and tend to function better in those environments. So, a VAT, which would impose multiple levels of taxation on every level of the economy (and be hidden, since it would already be included in the price), would effectively hurt business while also stifling the spending power of the American consumer.
This suggestion to me shows how out of touch this Administration is with the American people. The majority did not want a debt-ballooning social medicine program. But the Democrats arrogantly said, "Too bad, we know better than you, so there." Now, on top of passing a bill we don't want, the Democrats are floating the idea of a tax that we don't want to pay for a social medicine program that we don't want.
And the Democrats wonder why there is such voter backlash....
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Blogging Hiatus
Because of the busyness of my schedule, I've been on a hiatus from blogging for the past two weeks. I'll probably be on hiatus for the rest of this school year, posting only sporadically, until I have some time to think of things worth saying. That means that I will try to resume my regular posting schedule in June.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
The Oddities of English
I was pondering the strangeness of the English language two days ago, especially how prefixes don't always work according to the expected rule.
For example, the prefix "in-" (meaning not) behaves quite strangely. "Edible" and "inedible" obey the rule and are antonyms. But "flammable" and "inflammable" are not opposites. "Flammable" means able to be set on fire, and "inflammable" means able to be inflamed (i.e. set of fire). Likewise, "habit" and "inhabit" are not opposites the way the rule would suggest. In fact, the relationship is quite complex, considering that "habit" is a noun and "inhabit" is a verb. The relationship between "tense" and "intense" is also not an antonym relationship.
As near as I can tell, the reason for this unusual behavior stems from the etymology of words. Sometimes, the "in-" as a prefix is the result of the Latin "intensifier prefix" (i.e. a prefix meaning "very"). In other words, "inflammable" results from taking "flammable" and adding "very" to the front of it.
This explanation, of course, is limited, and there are no doubt plenty of good etymologists out there who would take me to task for my incomplete ("not complete" :-) ) description of the issue. Still, it is one of the more difficult aspects of English for many speakers, native and non-native. The only aspect that I can think of that is more challenging is the use of the word "up," but that it is a discussion for another day.
For example, the prefix "in-" (meaning not) behaves quite strangely. "Edible" and "inedible" obey the rule and are antonyms. But "flammable" and "inflammable" are not opposites. "Flammable" means able to be set on fire, and "inflammable" means able to be inflamed (i.e. set of fire). Likewise, "habit" and "inhabit" are not opposites the way the rule would suggest. In fact, the relationship is quite complex, considering that "habit" is a noun and "inhabit" is a verb. The relationship between "tense" and "intense" is also not an antonym relationship.
As near as I can tell, the reason for this unusual behavior stems from the etymology of words. Sometimes, the "in-" as a prefix is the result of the Latin "intensifier prefix" (i.e. a prefix meaning "very"). In other words, "inflammable" results from taking "flammable" and adding "very" to the front of it.
This explanation, of course, is limited, and there are no doubt plenty of good etymologists out there who would take me to task for my incomplete ("not complete" :-) ) description of the issue. Still, it is one of the more difficult aspects of English for many speakers, native and non-native. The only aspect that I can think of that is more challenging is the use of the word "up," but that it is a discussion for another day.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Why, It Must Be Spring!
The weather's warmer. It rains about every other day, and I'm very tired because of the combined load of soccer and teaching. Yup, it must be Spring!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
NCAA Tournament
There's something fascinating about the NCAA Men's Basketball tournament that seems to compel me to watch it more than regular season NCAA basketball. Perhaps it's the schools that I've never heard of beating the "power" programs. Perhaps it's the fact that any team could beat any other on a given day. Perhaps it's the variety of offenses, tactics, and strategies. Whatever it is, I've enjoyed watching the games, even though some of the results have not been what I anticipated.
Hopefully, the teams that I am the most interested in will make deep runs. If not, hopefully at least one low seed would make it in. Otherwise, the tournament will not be as fun to watch.
Regardless, with basketball almost over, it's time for baseball to kick into gear. The Royals don't look to be very good this year, but then again, you never know....
Hopefully, the teams that I am the most interested in will make deep runs. If not, hopefully at least one low seed would make it in. Otherwise, the tournament will not be as fun to watch.
Regardless, with basketball almost over, it's time for baseball to kick into gear. The Royals don't look to be very good this year, but then again, you never know....
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Snow on the First Day of Spring?
As the first day of Spring, March 20, draws closer, I've been watching the weather forecast (and forecast models) closely to see what the first day of Spring will be like. Right now, it appears that the weather will be winter weather. Snow is possible, and the wind chill will be in the low 20s or upper 10s. Not exactly a great start to Spring.
March 20, however, is astronomically the first day of Spring. It is the day of the vernal equinox. There will be 12 hours of light and 12 hours of darkness everywhere in the world. This event was chosen by scientists years ago to be the "official" start of Spring. The reality, however, depends on a myriad of local and climatological factors that the amount of daylight cannot affect. So, while the "official" first day of Spring may be on March 20, the true first day of Spring is going to be recognized only in hindsight: whatever day is the first of a sequence of days with "Spring-like" weather, define that how you will. (I suggest Spring be defined as a week in which 5 out of the 7 days have temperatures over 60 and whether the temperature never falls below 32.)
So, enjoy the nice the weather today (and possibly tomorrow), because winter is going to make one last gasp before bowing out to Spring.
March 20, however, is astronomically the first day of Spring. It is the day of the vernal equinox. There will be 12 hours of light and 12 hours of darkness everywhere in the world. This event was chosen by scientists years ago to be the "official" start of Spring. The reality, however, depends on a myriad of local and climatological factors that the amount of daylight cannot affect. So, while the "official" first day of Spring may be on March 20, the true first day of Spring is going to be recognized only in hindsight: whatever day is the first of a sequence of days with "Spring-like" weather, define that how you will. (I suggest Spring be defined as a week in which 5 out of the 7 days have temperatures over 60 and whether the temperature never falls below 32.)
So, enjoy the nice the weather today (and possibly tomorrow), because winter is going to make one last gasp before bowing out to Spring.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Spring Break Project
Every Spring Break for the past two years, I've tried to work on some major home improvement project that I don't have time to do during the school year. This year, I thought I'd take on the task of removing the old, ugly, peeling wallpaper that currently haunts my kitchen.
I plan on starting tomorrow, but the process just became a bit more difficult because I have discovered that underneath two layers of wallpaper there is wood paneling. Particleboard paneling would be more accurate, or so it appears to me.
The problem with this paneling, however, is that it has been both glued and nailed to the wall. I know this because in on one edge of one wall, the glue has failed completely, and the paneling was pulled away from the wall, allowing me to see what's behind it.
So, in addition to having to strip wallpaper, I'm going to have to remove the particleboard paneling, trying not to do damage to the plaster walls that are underneath. Then, once the panels are off, I'm going to have to clean and sand the walls to allow them to be painted. If that sounds like a lot of work, well, it is. I'm not looking forward to this challenge. If it had just been wallpaper, that is one thing, but wood paneling adds an extra level of difficulty (and potential expense) to this project. It's a good thing I have most of the week to devote to it.
The end result will be worth it, of course, but it could make for a couple of hard days work to get the enjoyable part: painting.
I plan on starting tomorrow, but the process just became a bit more difficult because I have discovered that underneath two layers of wallpaper there is wood paneling. Particleboard paneling would be more accurate, or so it appears to me.
The problem with this paneling, however, is that it has been both glued and nailed to the wall. I know this because in on one edge of one wall, the glue has failed completely, and the paneling was pulled away from the wall, allowing me to see what's behind it.
So, in addition to having to strip wallpaper, I'm going to have to remove the particleboard paneling, trying not to do damage to the plaster walls that are underneath. Then, once the panels are off, I'm going to have to clean and sand the walls to allow them to be painted. If that sounds like a lot of work, well, it is. I'm not looking forward to this challenge. If it had just been wallpaper, that is one thing, but wood paneling adds an extra level of difficulty (and potential expense) to this project. It's a good thing I have most of the week to devote to it.
The end result will be worth it, of course, but it could make for a couple of hard days work to get the enjoyable part: painting.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Spring Break
I forgot to post on Wednesday. The stress of pre-Spring-Break drove the thought of posting from my mind. Spring Break is here, though, and I'm looking forward to a relaxing week of getting my kitchen looking better, instead of having peeling, old wallpaper.
That is about all I want to say. Thank you; good night.
That is about all I want to say. Thank you; good night.
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Spring Is Here in an Instant
There's something about Kansas that seems to make the appearance of Spring-like weather a predictable, sudden phenomenon. Last week, it was in the 40s, cloudy, and very wintry. Then, by Tuesday of this past week, temperatures had suddenly jumped up to near 60 as the sun shone. It seemed like it was going to be winter for a couple more weeks, and that Spring Break would be cool and decidedly un-Spring-like. Instead, the weather has (almost instantaneously) changed. It is a wonderful change, although it is quite unexpected. I expected there to be more of a transition, with a few sunny days in the 40s. However, I guess that is not the case. We are getting sufficient sunlight, now, that the weather can become far more enjoyable than it has been. It came not a moment too soon, either, since soccer has started again, and nothing is more miserable than cold soccer practices and frigid soccer games. Hopefully, this great weather will continue to be in place over Spring Break. I would love to have the chance to get outside some during my week off.
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Dawn Treader After All!
I just found out earlier today that The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, a project that I had assumed to be shelved indefinitely, is indeed coming to theaters. According to this article in Christianity Today, the movie is scheduled for a December 10, 2010, release. I'm excited to see this book make it to the big screen. I'm also excited that the film makers learned (at least partially) their lesson from the disaster of an adaptation that was Prince Caspian. It sounds like they have done a better job of remaining faithful to Lewis's original work. Since they have done so, I'm excited to see the final product. It's been since the summer that I set foot in a movie theater (May of last year, if my memory is correct), but I'm planning on hitting the theaters to see this one. I'm very much looking forward to it.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Soccer Starts Again
As hard as it is to believe, considering the snow on the ground and near-freezing temperatures, soccer seasons starts tomorrow. Practice will more than likely be indoors for the first day or two, and that should make it interesting. Touch and other ball skills are hard to develop on a hardwood surface. Still, it's what we have to do.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Story: The Lethe, pt. XXVII
Two days later, the engineering team had met with great success. The Lethe was mostly ready to land. The landing thrusters were primed and the auxiliary landing systems checked out in case of a failure of a landing thrust. As soon as the Hyperion, the Lethe in tow, settled into a standard orbit, the Hyperion released the older ship from its tractor beam. At that point, the Lethe’s autopilot engaged a landing sequence and slowly descended to the surface of Elysion in a bright fire of re-entry.
As soon as the Lethe had landed on Elysion, Dobbins and Skylar took a shuttle down to the planet to pick up the engineering team that had stayed on board to surpervise the landing.
Dobbins took the opportunity to pay one final visit to Captain Loman. He found Loman helping a group of about 20 colonists haul building materials out of one of the outer cargo bays and onto the soil of their new home.
“Captain Dobbins,” Loman said upon seeing the younger man approach. “It’s good to see you, again. I can’t begin to say how grateful we are for your work to get us here. Without you, I don’t think we would have made it here.”
“You’re quite welcome, Captain,” Dobbins responded. “How go the preparations to start the colony?”
Loman sighed. “They’d be going better if we could get more people to help us. At this point, there are only about 500 people who’ve decided that they’re going to leave the ship for this new world. I can’t understand why they would want to stay, but I guess if you tell yourself a lie enough times, you eventually come to believe it.”
He paused and looked around at the environment around him. Lush, green grass covered the ground as far as the eye could see. In the distance, a large forest loomed on the horizon. Overhead, a yellow sun that looked similar to Earth’s, only smaller, hung in the center of the sky. On the far horizon opposite, the planet of 47 Ursae Majoris B loomed, its violent, swirling storms visible.
“It’s a bit hard to believe that anyone would want to live in that sort of imitation of reality when there’s one right here to experience,” he said after taking a deep breath. “Of course, unless they’re willing to believe that there’s something better than the inside of the ship, why should they want to give up on what they already know?”
Dobbins nodded. “Do you think that most will come around?” he asked.
“More than likely, once they see their old world collapsing around them. We’re going to have to disassemble the Lethe piece-by-piece to build our first settlement. It’ll take a few years to get that done, but by that time, I expect that most of the people we brought along will join us. We’ll leave anyone who doesn’t want to join us, of course, for as long as we can. Eventually, though, we’ll have to disassemble the main deck. At that point, I think we may have some people who may discover this new, better world only through the loss of everything that they held dear.”
“What a shame it would be,” Dobbins observed, “if some of the people died on the Lethe and never got to see this new world that they traveled 13 years to inhabit.”
“Quite true,” Loman answered, “but I can’t do much about that, now, nor can those who are here with me. All we can do is try to convince as many as possible to leave willing in order to spare themselves that unfortunate reality.”
A voice called from the cargo hold, “Captain Loman, we need your help with some of these crates back here!”
“I’ll be right there,” Loman called back. He addressed Dobbins again, “Captain, once again, thank you. I have to be going, but you and your crew will be welcome here on Elysion whenever you wish.”
Dobbins bid him goodbye and shook his hand. Leaving Loman to his work, Dobbins walked back to the shuttle, walking pensively through the soft grass and staring at the beautiful, blue sky.
He arrived at the shuttle a couple of minutes later. Skylar and the engineering team were already there.
“We’re ready to go, sir,” reported the helmsman.
“Excellent, Mr. Skylar,” Dobbins said. “Let’s go. We have quite a bit to report to Fleet Com once we return to Earth.”
He took one last look at Elyson, and then boarded the shuttle, which roared off into space in a dazzling rush of fire and wind.
The End
As soon as the Lethe had landed on Elysion, Dobbins and Skylar took a shuttle down to the planet to pick up the engineering team that had stayed on board to surpervise the landing.
Dobbins took the opportunity to pay one final visit to Captain Loman. He found Loman helping a group of about 20 colonists haul building materials out of one of the outer cargo bays and onto the soil of their new home.
“Captain Dobbins,” Loman said upon seeing the younger man approach. “It’s good to see you, again. I can’t begin to say how grateful we are for your work to get us here. Without you, I don’t think we would have made it here.”
“You’re quite welcome, Captain,” Dobbins responded. “How go the preparations to start the colony?”
Loman sighed. “They’d be going better if we could get more people to help us. At this point, there are only about 500 people who’ve decided that they’re going to leave the ship for this new world. I can’t understand why they would want to stay, but I guess if you tell yourself a lie enough times, you eventually come to believe it.”
He paused and looked around at the environment around him. Lush, green grass covered the ground as far as the eye could see. In the distance, a large forest loomed on the horizon. Overhead, a yellow sun that looked similar to Earth’s, only smaller, hung in the center of the sky. On the far horizon opposite, the planet of 47 Ursae Majoris B loomed, its violent, swirling storms visible.
“It’s a bit hard to believe that anyone would want to live in that sort of imitation of reality when there’s one right here to experience,” he said after taking a deep breath. “Of course, unless they’re willing to believe that there’s something better than the inside of the ship, why should they want to give up on what they already know?”
Dobbins nodded. “Do you think that most will come around?” he asked.
“More than likely, once they see their old world collapsing around them. We’re going to have to disassemble the Lethe piece-by-piece to build our first settlement. It’ll take a few years to get that done, but by that time, I expect that most of the people we brought along will join us. We’ll leave anyone who doesn’t want to join us, of course, for as long as we can. Eventually, though, we’ll have to disassemble the main deck. At that point, I think we may have some people who may discover this new, better world only through the loss of everything that they held dear.”
“What a shame it would be,” Dobbins observed, “if some of the people died on the Lethe and never got to see this new world that they traveled 13 years to inhabit.”
“Quite true,” Loman answered, “but I can’t do much about that, now, nor can those who are here with me. All we can do is try to convince as many as possible to leave willing in order to spare themselves that unfortunate reality.”
A voice called from the cargo hold, “Captain Loman, we need your help with some of these crates back here!”
“I’ll be right there,” Loman called back. He addressed Dobbins again, “Captain, once again, thank you. I have to be going, but you and your crew will be welcome here on Elysion whenever you wish.”
Dobbins bid him goodbye and shook his hand. Leaving Loman to his work, Dobbins walked back to the shuttle, walking pensively through the soft grass and staring at the beautiful, blue sky.
He arrived at the shuttle a couple of minutes later. Skylar and the engineering team were already there.
“We’re ready to go, sir,” reported the helmsman.
“Excellent, Mr. Skylar,” Dobbins said. “Let’s go. We have quite a bit to report to Fleet Com once we return to Earth.”
He took one last look at Elyson, and then boarded the shuttle, which roared off into space in a dazzling rush of fire and wind.
The End
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Snow!
With the snow that fell on Saturday and Sunday, Topeka has now had another snowy winter. While two winters ago saw a major snowfall, this year has seen several snowfalls, some of them quite significant. The result is that this winter (so far) ranks somewhere in the top 10 for snowfall. Admittedly, that is only a little over 100 years, but still significant. Whether there will be more snow remains to be seen.
Soccer season starts soon, and I would really rather not be refereeing and coaching in sub-40-degree weather and having practices indoors due to the cold.
Soccer season starts soon, and I would really rather not be refereeing and coaching in sub-40-degree weather and having practices indoors due to the cold.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Story: The Lethe, pt. XXVI
They arrived at the Assembly Hall to find an agitated crowd jammed into the rows of long benches. People were talking to each other, practically shouting to be heard over each other. The tension in the room was palpable.
Micah led Dobbins and Ella up to an elevated platform at the front of the Hall. The crowd began to shout different things at them as they mounted the stage, the cries mixing together to create a muddled, indistinct noise.
Micah motioned for the crowd to be quiet, and once they had finally quieted down, he said, “Citizens of Larson, I know that you are all very concerned at what’s been happening today. I am, too, and I am convinced that Captain Dobbins here can answer all of your concerns if you will allow him to speak.”
Several pockets of murmuring broke out as Dobbins stepped forward. As he began to speak, the crowd fell silent. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “I know that today has been shocked and unsettling for many of you. I realize that it’s not easy to have your calm, familiar life change on you suddenly.
“Right now, the biggest concern that many of you have is the brief blackouts that you are all experiencing.” Some agitation broke out in the crowd, but it quieted quickly as Dobbins continued. “I know all about the blackouts,” he continued, “because I have experienced them, as well, and I’m just getting used to them. They are the result of my ship towing your ship towards the moon of Elysion, where, as I said, you all were initially destined to go to establish a colony world.”
“How can towing cause us to black out?” demanded a voice from the crowd.
“We use a new technology called ‘jump drive,’ ” Dobbins explained. “Its workings are quite complex, more complex than I could explain, but it is doubtless familiar to some of you, at least in theory. When we make the jump from one location to another, there is a temporary sense of ‘nothingness’ that results from us skipping across a small gap in space-time. It does tend to leave you disoriented at first, but you will get used to it.”
At just that moment, another jump occurred. Everything blinked out for the briefest second before returning to normal.
A wave of panic swept over the crowd. Cries of disbelief began to be heard. “He’s lying,” someone shouted. “It’s some sort of new brainwashing. They’re trying to take us over just like he says the androids did. Let’s get rid of all of these newcomers and run town ourselves!” Things were not going well.
“Quiet!” Micah bellowed. “Listen to yourselves! You sound like maniacs! Captain Dobbins is offering a reasonable explanation. Let him finish first, and then you can decide for yourself what is going on.”
Dobbins spoke up, again. “Thank you, Micah,” he said. “That was one of the last jumps that we will experience. There should only be a couple more. Then, it will be about a day until we arrive at Elysion via normal Ion Drive. Now, I don’t expect you to believe me solely by the jumps. You’re right; it could all be a trick. There may not be a ship. We might be Radioactives sent to take over your town. However, we are not. Allow me to prove it to you this way. My Chief Engineer is in the Control Center right now. I’m going to call him and ask him to override the sky and set it to night. That will show that we are all on board a ship and not on Earth.”
He pulled out his hyperwave and called Zhang. “Mr. Zhang, we’re ready for your demonstration.”
“Aye, sir,” Zhang said.
Within seconds, the bright sunlight that had streamed through the large windows at the back of the Hall vanished, replaced with a delicate glow of moonlight. The sky outside was black, with various stars peaking through. Darkness filled the Hall for a brief second before the artificial lights activated, filling the room with an indirect, white glow.
Widespread cries broke out in the crowd, some of fear, some of shock, some of disdain.
“It’s a trick,” shouted the same voice that had doubted Dobbins earlier. “It’s some sort of holographic projection that makes it look like night. They’re going to try to take over. Don’t trust them!”
“No,” Dobbins shouted back, “it’s no trick. The sky is holographic, but it’s all controlled by computer. You’re on board a ship…”
His arguments went unheard. The crowd began all talking to each other at once, some arguing one way, some another. A few got up to leave. Dobbins and Micah had to spend a couple of minutes this time quieting the raucous crowd.
When everyone had calmed down, again, Dobbins spoke, “We have given you the best evidence that we could provide of the true nature of your situation. I can’t make you believe it, but I would urge you to. In about 2 days, this ship will be landing on Elysion. At that point, all of you will need to disembark this ship because it will be disassembled for materials.”
The majority of the crowd seemed ready to walk out, obviously in disagreement with Dobbins. Ella stood by, shocked, unable to believe that so many people would refuse to believe such obvious evidence.
Dobbins’s hyperwave beeped. With a quick, fluent motion, he pulled it out and activated it. “Dobbins,” he said.
“Captain, this is Lieutenant Congdon. We’ve been exploring the lower levels of the Brig, sir, and we found someone who claims to be Captain Loman. We verified his identity with a quick retinal scan. He is Captain Loman. How should we proceed.”
“Bring him here, as soon as possible,” Dobbins ordered.
“Aye, sir, Congdon out.”
Dobbins raised his voice over the din. “Citizens of Larson, listen to me! We have found your original Mayor, William Loman. I have people bringing him here, now, so do not leave just yet. He will be able to explain this situation more thoroughly.”
For the general reaction of the crowd, Dobbins knew that he had bought a few minutes, but not many more. Given how hostile the majority of the people here were to what he was telling them, he was not sure what Loman could possible do to bring people around.
Within five minutes of Congdon’s message, Captain Loman arrived at the doors to the Assembly Hall, escorted by Condgon and two other security team members. Loman looked in many ways like a man who had spent the past ten years in confinement. He had long, curly, brown hair that ran down below his waist, along with a long, bushy beard that seemed just as unkempt. At the sight of him, many in the crowd gasped in shock. He certainly did not look like the Mayor that they remembered.
Loman walked towards the front of the Hall, his gait slow, yet strong. Whatever horrors he had endured while incarcerated had not broken his spirit. He projected an air of authority as only someone used to commanding a starship could project. He climbed the stairs up to the main platform and walked straight up to Dobbins.
Extending his hand, he said, “Captain Dobbins, I presume?”
“At your service, Captain Loman,” Dobbins replied, grabbing the other man’s hand and shaking it firmly.
“It appears that you and your crew have done some fine work here,” Loman commented, “getting us free from the control of Desmond and his androids. I’ve got a lot of questions for you, and you doubtless have several for me, but I think it might be good if you and your teams got out of sight for a while. I think your presence is going to cause more agitation than anything else.”
“I think you’re right there, Captain,” Dobbins responded. “We’ll head outside and wait for you there.”
“That sounds good, Dobbins. And while you’re at it, could you get the sky set back to day? It’s just a little disconcerting to me to see it look like midnight at 4 p.m.”
Dobbins nodded, smiling. He motioned to Ella and the other members of the medical team, and they left the Assembly Hall.
Once outside, Dobbins called Zhang and had him set the sky back to the appropriate appearance. Within an instant, the starry, black sky switched again to deep azure. The sun shone again, and for the first time, Dobbins noticed that although it shone, it did not seem to radiate any heat.
From inside the Assembly Hall, they could barely hear Loman’s voice speaking to the people. They could not make out any words, but from his tone, it was clear that he was speaking with great passion and fluency, as if delivering a long-rehearsed speech.
Several minutes passed. Then, the passengers began to leave the Assembly Hall, some in groups, some individuals. A few walked up to the team and shook hands with Dobbins, Ella, or Samuelson. Most, however, walked right by the team, lost in thought or talking agitatedly among themselves.
Mayor Loman and Micah left last, the final two out of the Hall. As they came down the short flight of stairs to the team, Micah bade farewell to the Mayor and headed off towards his house. Loman approached the team.
“Well,” he said,” that was certainly less effective than I had hoped. It seems that I still have quite a bit of work to do. For now, though, everyone is at least thinking. Let’s head back to my office. I have a feeling you have quite a bit to tell me.”
They walked back to the Town Hall in silence. When they reached the atrium, they met Zhang, Leon, and the engineering team. In a heartfelt reunion, Loman greeted his Chief Engineer, marveling that to see the old man still alive and functioning.
Dobbins asked everyone except the original team and Leon to remain in the atrium. Led by Loman, they then ascended the stairs to the top floor and the Mayor’s office. The late afternoon sun shone through the windows. Several security androids still lay crumbled on the floor.
Loman took a look around at everything, slowly taking in the sight again of an office that had once been his. Noticing the disabled androids, he said, “Could we get these mechanical monstrosities out of my office?” Samuelson, Dobbins, and Loman all got to work and within minutes, they had removed the last of the androids from the room.
Taking a seat in the chair behind the desk, Loman motioned for the Hyperion team to find seats, as well. Once everyone was settled, he said, “Captain Dobbins, it seems to me that you have quite a story to tell me. We have some time, so please explain everything to me. What’s happened to my ship in the last 10 years since I’ve been locked away?”
Dobbins launched into the history of all that happened on board the Lethe, aided by Leon during the early part of the story. He progressed through the arrival of the Hyperion team on the Lethe and the conflict with Desmond and finally finished with the assembly called by Micah to which the security team had brought Loman.
“That Micah is a good man,” Loman observed. “I could tell in our few interactions that there was something special about him. It looks like he’s proven it with his ability to avoid the android’s brainwashing.”
“I’m curious,” Dobbins asked, “about how an android wound up taking over like this. I thought androids were supposed to put the well-being of humans ahead of themselves.”
“They were supposed to, Captain,” Loman replied. “I’ve thought about what happened for the past ten years, and I’m afraid I might have had something to do with what happened. I tried to give Desmond a little more autonomy in its decision-making process. It was my hope that if Desmond would take charge of all of the androids, then I could allow it to handle the mundane details of maintenance and security while I dealt only with the major issues. It looks like the autonomy I gave it caused Desmond to take control of everything.”
Dobbins shook his head slightly. “There’s not much we can do about it now, Loman, so no need to blame yourself. What’s the plan from here on out?”
“You say that we have two days until we arrive on Elysion. In that time, I’ve got to continue to work on the passengers. Only a handful are ready to start a new life. Most still are stuck in the lie from Desmond that this ship is all there is and that anything else outside of it is dangerous. On top of that, there’s a lot of work that needs to be done to prepare the Lethe for a landing. The engineering androids were supposed to start making preparations a few days in advance, but I don’t think they’re going to help us much, now.”
“We’ll be glad to offer you any help you might need, Captain,” Dobbins offered.
“I figured so,” replied the captain. “I’d love to have your engineering team stay. There’s a lot of work to be done.” He walked over to a mirror and looked at himself before adding, “And if you happen to know a barber, I could do with a haircut and shave, too.”
Dobbins smiled, “I think we can arrange that, as well. For now, though, we’ll leave you to your task, and we’ll get back to our ship. Please don’t hesitate to call the Hyperion if you need anything.”
“I won’t need much more, now, Captain Dobbins,” replied Loman, “but if something comes up, I’ll be sure to let you know. Thank you.” He extended his hand to Dobbins.
Dobbins grabbed it and shook it firmly, smiling broadly.
Within two hours, all of the Hyperion away teams had returned to their ship, except for the engineering team. Once on board the Hyperion, Dobbins briefly greeted Commander Brackers, left him in charge, and promptly head to his quarters for a good night’s sleep.
Micah led Dobbins and Ella up to an elevated platform at the front of the Hall. The crowd began to shout different things at them as they mounted the stage, the cries mixing together to create a muddled, indistinct noise.
Micah motioned for the crowd to be quiet, and once they had finally quieted down, he said, “Citizens of Larson, I know that you are all very concerned at what’s been happening today. I am, too, and I am convinced that Captain Dobbins here can answer all of your concerns if you will allow him to speak.”
Several pockets of murmuring broke out as Dobbins stepped forward. As he began to speak, the crowd fell silent. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “I know that today has been shocked and unsettling for many of you. I realize that it’s not easy to have your calm, familiar life change on you suddenly.
“Right now, the biggest concern that many of you have is the brief blackouts that you are all experiencing.” Some agitation broke out in the crowd, but it quieted quickly as Dobbins continued. “I know all about the blackouts,” he continued, “because I have experienced them, as well, and I’m just getting used to them. They are the result of my ship towing your ship towards the moon of Elysion, where, as I said, you all were initially destined to go to establish a colony world.”
“How can towing cause us to black out?” demanded a voice from the crowd.
“We use a new technology called ‘jump drive,’ ” Dobbins explained. “Its workings are quite complex, more complex than I could explain, but it is doubtless familiar to some of you, at least in theory. When we make the jump from one location to another, there is a temporary sense of ‘nothingness’ that results from us skipping across a small gap in space-time. It does tend to leave you disoriented at first, but you will get used to it.”
At just that moment, another jump occurred. Everything blinked out for the briefest second before returning to normal.
A wave of panic swept over the crowd. Cries of disbelief began to be heard. “He’s lying,” someone shouted. “It’s some sort of new brainwashing. They’re trying to take us over just like he says the androids did. Let’s get rid of all of these newcomers and run town ourselves!” Things were not going well.
“Quiet!” Micah bellowed. “Listen to yourselves! You sound like maniacs! Captain Dobbins is offering a reasonable explanation. Let him finish first, and then you can decide for yourself what is going on.”
Dobbins spoke up, again. “Thank you, Micah,” he said. “That was one of the last jumps that we will experience. There should only be a couple more. Then, it will be about a day until we arrive at Elysion via normal Ion Drive. Now, I don’t expect you to believe me solely by the jumps. You’re right; it could all be a trick. There may not be a ship. We might be Radioactives sent to take over your town. However, we are not. Allow me to prove it to you this way. My Chief Engineer is in the Control Center right now. I’m going to call him and ask him to override the sky and set it to night. That will show that we are all on board a ship and not on Earth.”
He pulled out his hyperwave and called Zhang. “Mr. Zhang, we’re ready for your demonstration.”
“Aye, sir,” Zhang said.
Within seconds, the bright sunlight that had streamed through the large windows at the back of the Hall vanished, replaced with a delicate glow of moonlight. The sky outside was black, with various stars peaking through. Darkness filled the Hall for a brief second before the artificial lights activated, filling the room with an indirect, white glow.
Widespread cries broke out in the crowd, some of fear, some of shock, some of disdain.
“It’s a trick,” shouted the same voice that had doubted Dobbins earlier. “It’s some sort of holographic projection that makes it look like night. They’re going to try to take over. Don’t trust them!”
“No,” Dobbins shouted back, “it’s no trick. The sky is holographic, but it’s all controlled by computer. You’re on board a ship…”
His arguments went unheard. The crowd began all talking to each other at once, some arguing one way, some another. A few got up to leave. Dobbins and Micah had to spend a couple of minutes this time quieting the raucous crowd.
When everyone had calmed down, again, Dobbins spoke, “We have given you the best evidence that we could provide of the true nature of your situation. I can’t make you believe it, but I would urge you to. In about 2 days, this ship will be landing on Elysion. At that point, all of you will need to disembark this ship because it will be disassembled for materials.”
The majority of the crowd seemed ready to walk out, obviously in disagreement with Dobbins. Ella stood by, shocked, unable to believe that so many people would refuse to believe such obvious evidence.
Dobbins’s hyperwave beeped. With a quick, fluent motion, he pulled it out and activated it. “Dobbins,” he said.
“Captain, this is Lieutenant Congdon. We’ve been exploring the lower levels of the Brig, sir, and we found someone who claims to be Captain Loman. We verified his identity with a quick retinal scan. He is Captain Loman. How should we proceed.”
“Bring him here, as soon as possible,” Dobbins ordered.
“Aye, sir, Congdon out.”
Dobbins raised his voice over the din. “Citizens of Larson, listen to me! We have found your original Mayor, William Loman. I have people bringing him here, now, so do not leave just yet. He will be able to explain this situation more thoroughly.”
For the general reaction of the crowd, Dobbins knew that he had bought a few minutes, but not many more. Given how hostile the majority of the people here were to what he was telling them, he was not sure what Loman could possible do to bring people around.
Within five minutes of Congdon’s message, Captain Loman arrived at the doors to the Assembly Hall, escorted by Condgon and two other security team members. Loman looked in many ways like a man who had spent the past ten years in confinement. He had long, curly, brown hair that ran down below his waist, along with a long, bushy beard that seemed just as unkempt. At the sight of him, many in the crowd gasped in shock. He certainly did not look like the Mayor that they remembered.
Loman walked towards the front of the Hall, his gait slow, yet strong. Whatever horrors he had endured while incarcerated had not broken his spirit. He projected an air of authority as only someone used to commanding a starship could project. He climbed the stairs up to the main platform and walked straight up to Dobbins.
Extending his hand, he said, “Captain Dobbins, I presume?”
“At your service, Captain Loman,” Dobbins replied, grabbing the other man’s hand and shaking it firmly.
“It appears that you and your crew have done some fine work here,” Loman commented, “getting us free from the control of Desmond and his androids. I’ve got a lot of questions for you, and you doubtless have several for me, but I think it might be good if you and your teams got out of sight for a while. I think your presence is going to cause more agitation than anything else.”
“I think you’re right there, Captain,” Dobbins responded. “We’ll head outside and wait for you there.”
“That sounds good, Dobbins. And while you’re at it, could you get the sky set back to day? It’s just a little disconcerting to me to see it look like midnight at 4 p.m.”
Dobbins nodded, smiling. He motioned to Ella and the other members of the medical team, and they left the Assembly Hall.
Once outside, Dobbins called Zhang and had him set the sky back to the appropriate appearance. Within an instant, the starry, black sky switched again to deep azure. The sun shone again, and for the first time, Dobbins noticed that although it shone, it did not seem to radiate any heat.
From inside the Assembly Hall, they could barely hear Loman’s voice speaking to the people. They could not make out any words, but from his tone, it was clear that he was speaking with great passion and fluency, as if delivering a long-rehearsed speech.
Several minutes passed. Then, the passengers began to leave the Assembly Hall, some in groups, some individuals. A few walked up to the team and shook hands with Dobbins, Ella, or Samuelson. Most, however, walked right by the team, lost in thought or talking agitatedly among themselves.
Mayor Loman and Micah left last, the final two out of the Hall. As they came down the short flight of stairs to the team, Micah bade farewell to the Mayor and headed off towards his house. Loman approached the team.
“Well,” he said,” that was certainly less effective than I had hoped. It seems that I still have quite a bit of work to do. For now, though, everyone is at least thinking. Let’s head back to my office. I have a feeling you have quite a bit to tell me.”
They walked back to the Town Hall in silence. When they reached the atrium, they met Zhang, Leon, and the engineering team. In a heartfelt reunion, Loman greeted his Chief Engineer, marveling that to see the old man still alive and functioning.
Dobbins asked everyone except the original team and Leon to remain in the atrium. Led by Loman, they then ascended the stairs to the top floor and the Mayor’s office. The late afternoon sun shone through the windows. Several security androids still lay crumbled on the floor.
Loman took a look around at everything, slowly taking in the sight again of an office that had once been his. Noticing the disabled androids, he said, “Could we get these mechanical monstrosities out of my office?” Samuelson, Dobbins, and Loman all got to work and within minutes, they had removed the last of the androids from the room.
Taking a seat in the chair behind the desk, Loman motioned for the Hyperion team to find seats, as well. Once everyone was settled, he said, “Captain Dobbins, it seems to me that you have quite a story to tell me. We have some time, so please explain everything to me. What’s happened to my ship in the last 10 years since I’ve been locked away?”
Dobbins launched into the history of all that happened on board the Lethe, aided by Leon during the early part of the story. He progressed through the arrival of the Hyperion team on the Lethe and the conflict with Desmond and finally finished with the assembly called by Micah to which the security team had brought Loman.
“That Micah is a good man,” Loman observed. “I could tell in our few interactions that there was something special about him. It looks like he’s proven it with his ability to avoid the android’s brainwashing.”
“I’m curious,” Dobbins asked, “about how an android wound up taking over like this. I thought androids were supposed to put the well-being of humans ahead of themselves.”
“They were supposed to, Captain,” Loman replied. “I’ve thought about what happened for the past ten years, and I’m afraid I might have had something to do with what happened. I tried to give Desmond a little more autonomy in its decision-making process. It was my hope that if Desmond would take charge of all of the androids, then I could allow it to handle the mundane details of maintenance and security while I dealt only with the major issues. It looks like the autonomy I gave it caused Desmond to take control of everything.”
Dobbins shook his head slightly. “There’s not much we can do about it now, Loman, so no need to blame yourself. What’s the plan from here on out?”
“You say that we have two days until we arrive on Elysion. In that time, I’ve got to continue to work on the passengers. Only a handful are ready to start a new life. Most still are stuck in the lie from Desmond that this ship is all there is and that anything else outside of it is dangerous. On top of that, there’s a lot of work that needs to be done to prepare the Lethe for a landing. The engineering androids were supposed to start making preparations a few days in advance, but I don’t think they’re going to help us much, now.”
“We’ll be glad to offer you any help you might need, Captain,” Dobbins offered.
“I figured so,” replied the captain. “I’d love to have your engineering team stay. There’s a lot of work to be done.” He walked over to a mirror and looked at himself before adding, “And if you happen to know a barber, I could do with a haircut and shave, too.”
Dobbins smiled, “I think we can arrange that, as well. For now, though, we’ll leave you to your task, and we’ll get back to our ship. Please don’t hesitate to call the Hyperion if you need anything.”
“I won’t need much more, now, Captain Dobbins,” replied Loman, “but if something comes up, I’ll be sure to let you know. Thank you.” He extended his hand to Dobbins.
Dobbins grabbed it and shook it firmly, smiling broadly.
Within two hours, all of the Hyperion away teams had returned to their ship, except for the engineering team. Once on board the Hyperion, Dobbins briefly greeted Commander Brackers, left him in charge, and promptly head to his quarters for a good night’s sleep.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Story: The Lethe, pt. XXV
Everyone left the control station and climbed the stairs again to the main level. Within five minutes, the other teams from the Hyperion had joined them in the atrium. Most of the personnel were security, although there were also medical and engineering teams.
A tall, broad shoulder man approached Dobbins as the final team entered. “Lieutenant Congdon, security, reporting for duty, sir,” he said.
“Very good, Lieutenant. Are all the teams here?”
“Yes, sir.”
Dobbins looked over the teams that had arrived. “Engineering team,” he ordered, “you will head with Lieutenant Zhang and Chief Engineer Sapens back to the Control Center to fix any more damage that might be there. After the Control Center is ready, make sure that the ship’s systems are prepared for landing. I want this ship ready to land as soon as possible.
“Security team, I want you to go with Mr. Samuelson back to the Security building and search it thoroughly. If there are any prisoners locked up in there, I want to know who they are and why. Make sure that you use the Lethe’s security database to help you. I’m sure that Mr. Sapens or Mr. Zhang can get you access to it.
“Medical team, you will work with Commander Ella and me as we try to figure out exactly how we’re going to explain to these passengers where they are and what’s going on. My sense is that most have been pretty severely brainwashed and think that they are still on Earth. We need to find ways to convince them otherwise. You have orders. Let’s get to work.”
A massive jumble broke out as people crisscrossed each others’ paths, heading for their respective destinations. Eventually, only the medical team, a group of two doctors and three nurses, remained. Dobbins and Ella set to work with them, trying to come up with something that would work effectively.
They had only been discussing the matter for five minutes when Dobbins suddenly felt the usual side-effects caused by the Jump Drive. For one brief second, he felt everything stop, as if he had gone unconscious for the briefest period of time. Then, the familiar disorientation kicked in as the room seemed to spin of its own accord. He stayed in his seated position on one of the couches in the atrium, waiting for the feeling to pass.
No sooner had the feeling passed, though, than the entire experience repeated itself again. Ella and the others did not seem to be bothered by the jumps and continued to discussing the best way to explain things to the colonists.
“Perhaps we ought to say something about the jumps,” Dobbins suggested. “If they are experiencing the same disorientation that I am, then they’re going to be very concerned.”
The others agreed, and they all continued their discussions until ten minutes before the meeting was to start. Four more jumps occurred in that interval.
Micah exploded through the doors of the Town Hall. “Captain!” he exclaimed. “You need to come with me quickly. The whole town’s already gathered in the Assembly Hall, and quite a few are very disturbed about the blackouts that we’ve all been experiencing.”
Before Dobbins could respond, another jump occurred, and once again, the disorientation lingered afterwards, although it disappeared within a few seconds this time. Micah, on the other hand, tried to head out the door, and stumbled into it, instead.
“It’s a side effect of the Jump Drive,” Dobbins explained. “The disorientation becomes shorter in duration with each jump that you experience. Believe me, I know.”
“I hope you’re right, Captain,” Micah said, “but it’s got a lot of the town worried. Some are saying that it’s some sort of fallout from the nuclear war they think happened 10 years ago, or worse, that it’s some sort of weapon that you all are using on us to try to take us over.”
“Well, lead us on to the Assembly Hall, and we’ll try to explain everything to them.”
“I hope they believe you, Captain.”
“So do I, Micah, so do I.”
A tall, broad shoulder man approached Dobbins as the final team entered. “Lieutenant Congdon, security, reporting for duty, sir,” he said.
“Very good, Lieutenant. Are all the teams here?”
“Yes, sir.”
Dobbins looked over the teams that had arrived. “Engineering team,” he ordered, “you will head with Lieutenant Zhang and Chief Engineer Sapens back to the Control Center to fix any more damage that might be there. After the Control Center is ready, make sure that the ship’s systems are prepared for landing. I want this ship ready to land as soon as possible.
“Security team, I want you to go with Mr. Samuelson back to the Security building and search it thoroughly. If there are any prisoners locked up in there, I want to know who they are and why. Make sure that you use the Lethe’s security database to help you. I’m sure that Mr. Sapens or Mr. Zhang can get you access to it.
“Medical team, you will work with Commander Ella and me as we try to figure out exactly how we’re going to explain to these passengers where they are and what’s going on. My sense is that most have been pretty severely brainwashed and think that they are still on Earth. We need to find ways to convince them otherwise. You have orders. Let’s get to work.”
A massive jumble broke out as people crisscrossed each others’ paths, heading for their respective destinations. Eventually, only the medical team, a group of two doctors and three nurses, remained. Dobbins and Ella set to work with them, trying to come up with something that would work effectively.
They had only been discussing the matter for five minutes when Dobbins suddenly felt the usual side-effects caused by the Jump Drive. For one brief second, he felt everything stop, as if he had gone unconscious for the briefest period of time. Then, the familiar disorientation kicked in as the room seemed to spin of its own accord. He stayed in his seated position on one of the couches in the atrium, waiting for the feeling to pass.
No sooner had the feeling passed, though, than the entire experience repeated itself again. Ella and the others did not seem to be bothered by the jumps and continued to discussing the best way to explain things to the colonists.
“Perhaps we ought to say something about the jumps,” Dobbins suggested. “If they are experiencing the same disorientation that I am, then they’re going to be very concerned.”
The others agreed, and they all continued their discussions until ten minutes before the meeting was to start. Four more jumps occurred in that interval.
Micah exploded through the doors of the Town Hall. “Captain!” he exclaimed. “You need to come with me quickly. The whole town’s already gathered in the Assembly Hall, and quite a few are very disturbed about the blackouts that we’ve all been experiencing.”
Before Dobbins could respond, another jump occurred, and once again, the disorientation lingered afterwards, although it disappeared within a few seconds this time. Micah, on the other hand, tried to head out the door, and stumbled into it, instead.
“It’s a side effect of the Jump Drive,” Dobbins explained. “The disorientation becomes shorter in duration with each jump that you experience. Believe me, I know.”
“I hope you’re right, Captain,” Micah said, “but it’s got a lot of the town worried. Some are saying that it’s some sort of fallout from the nuclear war they think happened 10 years ago, or worse, that it’s some sort of weapon that you all are using on us to try to take us over.”
“Well, lead us on to the Assembly Hall, and we’ll try to explain everything to them.”
“I hope they believe you, Captain.”
“So do I, Micah, so do I.”
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Snow?
A great buzz filled the air at school on Friday: the NWS was looking at the possibility of 6-10 inches of snow falling in Topeka. If that forecast verified, it would mean that there would be no school on Monday, something that the students were, of course, all in favor of.
On Friday, I took a quick look at a forecast model, and I didn't see the major snowfall. Of course, I admittedly look at a limited amount of data. So, I took a "wait and see" attitude to the forecast, given that the NWS-Topeka tends to over-forecast snowfall events.
It appears that my caution was unnecessary. The official forecast has gone from 6-8 inches in Topeka to 4-6 to 2-4. It is looking less and less likely that a significant snowfall will occur tonight into tomorrow. In fact, the models are disagreeing about whether snow will even fall. One model has no snow falling, just cold rain and/or sleet. The other model has Topeka getting 2-4 inches. Clearly, the NWS is following the latter model. At this point, based on what little data I've looked at, I'll go out on a limb and forecast 1-3 inches in Topeka, although I'm leaning more and more towards the lower end of that spectrum.
That means, of course, there will be school tomorrow. Kids, do your homework. [grin]
On Friday, I took a quick look at a forecast model, and I didn't see the major snowfall. Of course, I admittedly look at a limited amount of data. So, I took a "wait and see" attitude to the forecast, given that the NWS-Topeka tends to over-forecast snowfall events.
It appears that my caution was unnecessary. The official forecast has gone from 6-8 inches in Topeka to 4-6 to 2-4. It is looking less and less likely that a significant snowfall will occur tonight into tomorrow. In fact, the models are disagreeing about whether snow will even fall. One model has no snow falling, just cold rain and/or sleet. The other model has Topeka getting 2-4 inches. Clearly, the NWS is following the latter model. At this point, based on what little data I've looked at, I'll go out on a limb and forecast 1-3 inches in Topeka, although I'm leaning more and more towards the lower end of that spectrum.
That means, of course, there will be school tomorrow. Kids, do your homework. [grin]
Story: The Lethe, pt. XXIV
Dobbins watched him go for a while before saying, “Let’s head down to the Control Center to meet with Mr. Zhang and Mr. Sapens. We need to come up with something good, and the time is short.”
They re-entered the building and headed down the stairs to the Control Center.
When the arrived in the Control Center, they found Zhang and Leon had opened up one of the stations and were attempting to repair it. Zhang had crawled far underneath the station. Only his legs were visible outside of the station. Leon stared intently at the station, a bag of engineering tools in his hand. Both were so involved in their work that they did not notice the arrival of the others. The sound of a welder could be heard coming from inside the station. On occasion, sparks flew out from the innards of the station, and the smell of acrid smoke filled the room.
“Report, Mr. Zhang,” Dobbins ordered.
After one more burst of the welder, Zhang slowly worked his way out from inside the station. Handing the mini-welder to Leon, he said, “We were able to get in touch with the Hyperion, sir, and the shuttles are on their way. We also made sure that there were three slots available for the shuttles in the Docking Bay. While we were waiting, we noticed that the Navigation station appeared to be malfunctioning, so we took on the task of repairing it. I think I’ll have it up and running in a few minutes.”
“Very good, Lieutenant,” replied Dobbins. “Do you have any idea of when the shuttles will arrive?”
“Probably about 15 minutes, sir. I told them to come to the Town Hall, come in through lower-decks entrance, and assemble in the atrium on the main floor.”
“Good,” Dobbins said. “Resume your repairs, Lieutenant.” Zhang crawled back underneath the station and resumed his welding.
“Mr. Samuelson,” Dobbins ordered, “use the Communications station to open a channel to the Hyperion. I need to talk with Commander Brackers.”
“Aye, sir,” Samuelson replied as he walked over to Communications. After about thirty seconds of work, he had established a channel to the Hyperion and the ship’s First Officer.
“How did your meeting with the crowd go, sir?” Brackers inquired.
“Not as well as I would have hoped,” Dobbins answered. “We have an uphill battle ahead of us. Commander, would it be possible for the Hyperion to jump to Elysion with the Lethe in tow?”
“I don’t know, sir,” Brackers said. “Mr. Zhang would know, though. Ask him.”
Dobbins called to the Hyperion’s Chief Engineer, still buried deep within the Navigation station. After a pause, Zhang’s voice came from the large box, “Yes, Captain, I think it would be possible, but the Hyperion would have to close to within a few meters of the Lethe in order for both ships to be within the perimeter of the jump field. And it might take an extra jump or two to make the entire trip. Still, I think it is possible.”
“Did you hear that Commander?” Dobbins asked once Zhang had finished.
“Barely, sir. Where is Mr. Zhang?”
“Inside the Navigation Console,” Dobbins responded. “He is trying to bring it back online.”
“Of course,” Brackers said, a smile in his voice. “We’ll need you to slow down the Lethe some, sir, if we’re going to pull closer. We’re already moving at our maximum speed right now, and we’re barely keeping pace. Once we’re close enough, and once the shuttles have docked, we’ll do the remaining jumps to get as close to Elysion as we can. That may still put us a day or two out, though.”
“That’s fine, Commander. Make preparations. We’ll work on getting the Lethe slowed down a little for you. Dobbins out.” Dobbins closed the channel to the Hyperion.
Dobbins turned to Lieutenant Skylar. “Mr. Skylar, lower the Lethe’s speed to 0.85c.”
Skylar walked over to Helm Control. After trying for a minute, he reported to Dobbins, “Captain, the controls seem frozen. They’re not responding to my instructions.”
Leon spoke up. “That’s what we were seeing when we looked at the Navigation Station, too, Captain. I think that Desmond messed with the Navigation and Helm controls for some reason. I think I know what needs to be done to bypass the problem, but I’m not really capable of crawling around inside consoles the way I used to be.”
Suddenly, the Navigation console sprang to life. On the screen, the course of the Lethe was mapped out in its entirety.
Zhang crawled out of the station and stood up. “Well, Captain,” he said, “the Navigation system’s repaired. I had to bypass the primary controls, but with Navigation control restored, we should be able to plot an orbit for the ship, now, once we reach Elysion.”
“As always, Mr. Zhang, good work. Now, could you please see what’s wrong with the helm?”
“Oh, I know what’s wrong, Captain,” Leon said. “The same thing that was wrong with Navigation. Someone destroyed the main control circuit. We’re having to jerry-rig a solution to the problem by patching the auxiliary control override directly into the station’s main controls. Whoever did this didn’t want it to be easy to repair, but I think Mr. Zhang can get it fixed for you in about fifteen minutes.”
“Very well,” Dobbins replied.
Zhang opened the Helm’s access panel, grabbed his mini-welder, and again crawled inside the station. The station’s screen quickly went blank as Zhang cut and spliced various connections inside the device. After several minutes of work, the console came back to life as he slid back out. “I think it’s ready, sir,” he reported. “Have Mr. Skylar try it.”
Skylar ran his hands over the controls. “The helm is now responding, sir. I’ll slow us down once the shuttles are on board.”
Just then, Dobbins’ hyperwave sounded. Opening the device, he spoke into it. “Dobbins here.”
“Captain,” a confident male voice from the other side said. “This is Lieutenant Congdon. All teams are on board the Lethe, and we’re making our way to the Town Hall. We should be there in a few minutes”
“Very good, Lieutenant,” replied Dobbins. “Be sure to take the below-decks route to the auxiliary staircase. That will allow you to avoid being seen by the passengers. I think your presence right now might cause them to panic and think it was an invasion.”
“Aye, sir,” Congdon said. “We’re on our way. See you soon. Congdon out.”
Dobbins closed his hyperwave and spoke to Skylar. “Mr. Skylar…” he began.
“Already slowing down, sir,” the helmsman responded. “Speed now at 0.93c and falling. We should be at 0.85c in about twenty minutes.”
“Excellent. Let’s head up to the atrium,” Dobbins said. “We need to come up with a plan for convincing the passengers of their situation, and we’re down to about forty minutes to do so.”
They re-entered the building and headed down the stairs to the Control Center.
When the arrived in the Control Center, they found Zhang and Leon had opened up one of the stations and were attempting to repair it. Zhang had crawled far underneath the station. Only his legs were visible outside of the station. Leon stared intently at the station, a bag of engineering tools in his hand. Both were so involved in their work that they did not notice the arrival of the others. The sound of a welder could be heard coming from inside the station. On occasion, sparks flew out from the innards of the station, and the smell of acrid smoke filled the room.
“Report, Mr. Zhang,” Dobbins ordered.
After one more burst of the welder, Zhang slowly worked his way out from inside the station. Handing the mini-welder to Leon, he said, “We were able to get in touch with the Hyperion, sir, and the shuttles are on their way. We also made sure that there were three slots available for the shuttles in the Docking Bay. While we were waiting, we noticed that the Navigation station appeared to be malfunctioning, so we took on the task of repairing it. I think I’ll have it up and running in a few minutes.”
“Very good, Lieutenant,” replied Dobbins. “Do you have any idea of when the shuttles will arrive?”
“Probably about 15 minutes, sir. I told them to come to the Town Hall, come in through lower-decks entrance, and assemble in the atrium on the main floor.”
“Good,” Dobbins said. “Resume your repairs, Lieutenant.” Zhang crawled back underneath the station and resumed his welding.
“Mr. Samuelson,” Dobbins ordered, “use the Communications station to open a channel to the Hyperion. I need to talk with Commander Brackers.”
“Aye, sir,” Samuelson replied as he walked over to Communications. After about thirty seconds of work, he had established a channel to the Hyperion and the ship’s First Officer.
“How did your meeting with the crowd go, sir?” Brackers inquired.
“Not as well as I would have hoped,” Dobbins answered. “We have an uphill battle ahead of us. Commander, would it be possible for the Hyperion to jump to Elysion with the Lethe in tow?”
“I don’t know, sir,” Brackers said. “Mr. Zhang would know, though. Ask him.”
Dobbins called to the Hyperion’s Chief Engineer, still buried deep within the Navigation station. After a pause, Zhang’s voice came from the large box, “Yes, Captain, I think it would be possible, but the Hyperion would have to close to within a few meters of the Lethe in order for both ships to be within the perimeter of the jump field. And it might take an extra jump or two to make the entire trip. Still, I think it is possible.”
“Did you hear that Commander?” Dobbins asked once Zhang had finished.
“Barely, sir. Where is Mr. Zhang?”
“Inside the Navigation Console,” Dobbins responded. “He is trying to bring it back online.”
“Of course,” Brackers said, a smile in his voice. “We’ll need you to slow down the Lethe some, sir, if we’re going to pull closer. We’re already moving at our maximum speed right now, and we’re barely keeping pace. Once we’re close enough, and once the shuttles have docked, we’ll do the remaining jumps to get as close to Elysion as we can. That may still put us a day or two out, though.”
“That’s fine, Commander. Make preparations. We’ll work on getting the Lethe slowed down a little for you. Dobbins out.” Dobbins closed the channel to the Hyperion.
Dobbins turned to Lieutenant Skylar. “Mr. Skylar, lower the Lethe’s speed to 0.85c.”
Skylar walked over to Helm Control. After trying for a minute, he reported to Dobbins, “Captain, the controls seem frozen. They’re not responding to my instructions.”
Leon spoke up. “That’s what we were seeing when we looked at the Navigation Station, too, Captain. I think that Desmond messed with the Navigation and Helm controls for some reason. I think I know what needs to be done to bypass the problem, but I’m not really capable of crawling around inside consoles the way I used to be.”
Suddenly, the Navigation console sprang to life. On the screen, the course of the Lethe was mapped out in its entirety.
Zhang crawled out of the station and stood up. “Well, Captain,” he said, “the Navigation system’s repaired. I had to bypass the primary controls, but with Navigation control restored, we should be able to plot an orbit for the ship, now, once we reach Elysion.”
“As always, Mr. Zhang, good work. Now, could you please see what’s wrong with the helm?”
“Oh, I know what’s wrong, Captain,” Leon said. “The same thing that was wrong with Navigation. Someone destroyed the main control circuit. We’re having to jerry-rig a solution to the problem by patching the auxiliary control override directly into the station’s main controls. Whoever did this didn’t want it to be easy to repair, but I think Mr. Zhang can get it fixed for you in about fifteen minutes.”
“Very well,” Dobbins replied.
Zhang opened the Helm’s access panel, grabbed his mini-welder, and again crawled inside the station. The station’s screen quickly went blank as Zhang cut and spliced various connections inside the device. After several minutes of work, the console came back to life as he slid back out. “I think it’s ready, sir,” he reported. “Have Mr. Skylar try it.”
Skylar ran his hands over the controls. “The helm is now responding, sir. I’ll slow us down once the shuttles are on board.”
Just then, Dobbins’ hyperwave sounded. Opening the device, he spoke into it. “Dobbins here.”
“Captain,” a confident male voice from the other side said. “This is Lieutenant Congdon. All teams are on board the Lethe, and we’re making our way to the Town Hall. We should be there in a few minutes”
“Very good, Lieutenant,” replied Dobbins. “Be sure to take the below-decks route to the auxiliary staircase. That will allow you to avoid being seen by the passengers. I think your presence right now might cause them to panic and think it was an invasion.”
“Aye, sir,” Congdon said. “We’re on our way. See you soon. Congdon out.”
Dobbins closed his hyperwave and spoke to Skylar. “Mr. Skylar…” he began.
“Already slowing down, sir,” the helmsman responded. “Speed now at 0.93c and falling. We should be at 0.85c in about twenty minutes.”
“Excellent. Let’s head up to the atrium,” Dobbins said. “We need to come up with a plan for convincing the passengers of their situation, and we’re down to about forty minutes to do so.”
Sunday, January 31, 2010
With apologies to CS Lewis
Every college in America has its traditions. And many of them make very little sense at all. Like my alma mater being the Cyclones and having a Cardinal as its mascot. Or KSU being the Wildcats and yet the band plays "The Wabash Cannonball," which is about a train. Now, yes, there are explanations for these. On the surface, however, these traditions are easy to pick fun at, especially when people take them too seriously, as too many people do.
So, in that spirit, (and after growing up in Lawrence and having to listen to the "Rock Chalk" chant innumerable times), I simply can't resist taking a jab at this chant that has always to me seemed as bizarre as Wabash at KSU.
(Paraphrasing from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by CS Lewis)
"I'm thinking of a limmerick," said Eustace, "that goes something like this:
"Rock Chalk Jayhawk KU."
"Well chalk and Jayhawk don't rhyme, to begin with," said Lucy.
"It's an assonance," said Eustace.
"Don't ask him what an assy-thingummy is," said Edmund. "He's only longing to be asked. Say nothing and perhaps he'll go away."
So, in that spirit, (and after growing up in Lawrence and having to listen to the "Rock Chalk" chant innumerable times), I simply can't resist taking a jab at this chant that has always to me seemed as bizarre as Wabash at KSU.
(Paraphrasing from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by CS Lewis)
"I'm thinking of a limmerick," said Eustace, "that goes something like this:
"Rock Chalk Jayhawk KU."
"Well chalk and Jayhawk don't rhyme, to begin with," said Lucy.
"It's an assonance," said Eustace.
"Don't ask him what an assy-thingummy is," said Edmund. "He's only longing to be asked. Say nothing and perhaps he'll go away."
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Story: The Lethe, pt. XXIII
“You’re right, Commander,” Dobbins said. “Our mission is nowhere near over. We’re going to need some help.” He activated his hyperwave. “Dobbins to Hyperion.”
“Hyperion. Brackers here, sir. How did it work?”
“Quite well, Commander. All of the androids are neutralized, including the Mayor.”
“Sir?” Brackers’s voice betrayed total confusion.
“I’ll fill you in later, Commander. For now, get three shuttles ready for launch. We’re going to head to the control room to make docking a little easier for them, and then we’ll see if we can get the Lethe’s passengers and human crew together to fill them in on the situation.”
“I think we have already partially completed that second part of our mission, sir,” Skylar called from the far side of the room.
He had gone to stand by the large windows that overlooked the town square. Down below, a vast crowd had gathered, all roaming around and looking confused. They stayed away from the steps of the Town Hall, as if they expected someone to come out of the doors at any minute.
Dobbins walked over to look. “Well, that changes our plans a little.”
He spoke again into the hyperwave. “Mr. Brackers, launch those shuttles as soon as they are ready. We’ll have docking ports ready. Perhaps we’ll be able to have some good news to report by the time you get here. Dobbins out.
“Mr. Zhang, Mr. Sapens, go to the Control Center and get the docking bay doors open and three docking ports free. The rest of you, come with me. We’ve got our work cut out for us.”
They exited the Mayor’s office and descended to the main level. Zhang and Sapens continued down to the Control Center, while the rest of the team moved to the main doors of the Town Hall.
Dobbins paused before going through the doors. Outside, he could hear the murmuring crowd as it congregated. The tone of their voices indicated confusion and worry. He pushed the doors open. The crowd outside quickly became deathly quiet in anticipation. The silence lasted exactly three seconds before a great outcry of panic and confusion erupted. People shouted over other people, some asking questions of each other, some yelling questions at Dobbins, and everyone creating such a cacophony of voices that he could not understand anything being said.
The crowd of well over 1000 people consisted of men and women of just about every age from teenagers upward. Most were dressed in the simple clothing of farmers. All, however, seemed genuinely distressed at Dobbins’s appearance on the Town Hall steps.
Dobbins motioned with his hands to try to silence the crowd, but his effort initially met with little success. Finally, a middle-aged man climbed up four or five steps and with much effort managed to quiet the crowd.
“Citizens of Larson,” the man said, “I have no idea why this man is standing here instead of our Mayor, nor why old Leon the Watchmaker is here with him, but I am sure that there is a good reason if we will only allow him to explain himself.”
“Is he going to explain what happened to all of our security personnel, Micah?” demanded a man near the front of the throng.
“I don’t know what he knows,” responded Micah, “but give him a chance to explain himself. Perhaps the Mayor sent him here.”
The crowd began to shout approval and disapproval of the suggestion at the same time. With some effort Micah quieted them all again. “Let him speak, I said,” he ordered strongly. “After that, if his answers aren’t to your satisfaction, you’ll all be welcome to ask as many questions as you wish, provided that we do it in some sort of order to give the poor man a chance to hear you. As it is, I’d be surprised if he’s understood a thing you’ve been shouting at him. So, everyone calm down, stop shouting, and listen.”
He turned to face Dobbins, looking at the captain with a look of confused interest.
Dobbins began to speak, “I am Captain Christopher Dobbins of the Earth Hyper Ship Hyperion. We have been sent here to escort you the rest of the way to Elysion…”
The crowd began to erupt again into a wave of noise. “He’s nuts!” some shouted. “He’s a Radioactive!” others screamed. “Let him speak,” a third group clammered, “there’s got to be an explanation for his presence here.”
Micah again motioned for the crowd to quiet down, which they eventually did, allowing Dobbins to continue.
“Apparently,” Dobbins said, “your Mayor, Dante, took over many years ago and has been lying to you. You are not on Earth at all. You are on a generational starship, the Lethe, bound for an inhabitable moon named Elysion.” Some in the crowd began to grumble again. “Listen to me!” Dobbins shouted over the noise, stifling the dissent. “Your Mayor, as you call him, has deceived you into thinking that you are the sole remnants of nuclear holocaust. That was not true. Like I said, you are passengers aboard a starship, colonists for a new world. We were sent here to help you complete your journey to this new world.”
“And why should we believe you?” demanded the same man who had challenged Micah earlier. “For all we know, you’re some group of survivors from a different town that managed to cross the radioactive waste to get here. Maybe you’ve killed the Mayor or thrown him in prison, and know you’re here to try to take over with this absurd story of a starship. As far as I’m concerned, you’re whole story is too convenient. A starship? Really? If we are on a starship, why is it that I can clearly see blue sky above me with the sun rising and setting? Why is it that this world is all that there is and that it is impossible to leave this valley without dying?” Many in the crowd muttered their approval.
“We could be lying,” Dobbins answered, “but we’re not. We can prove to you that your Mayor, Desmond, was not who he claimed to be. As far as the appearances around you, you should know about holography. The sky you see is just a holographic projection. And of course you can’t leave this ‘valley.’ To do so would require you to leave the ship.”
Cries of protest broke out again. This time, Micah spoke up over them, “Captain, you say that you have proof that Desmond was lying?”
“We do, Micah,” answered Dobbins. “If you will give me a couple of minutes, we can bring the proof down to you.”
Micah addressed the crowd. “People of Larson, I say that we give this Dobbins the chance to prove his claims. He needs a couple of minutes to bring us this proof…”
“More like manufacture it,” shouted a cynical voice from the middle of the crowd, drawing scattered laughter.
“To bring us his proof,” Micah repeated, “that the Mayor has been lying to us. At that point, you all will be able to see and judge for yourselves.”
“Hey, Micah, remember that we still don’t know why every member of our security force is unconscious. Perhaps this Dobbins can explain that,” another voice called, to the approval of many.
“Yes, I can.” Dobbins responded, “if you will give me one second to send some of my team to retrieve the proof of Desmond’s lies.
He spoke to his team in a quiet voice, “Skylar, Samuelson, go up to Desmond’s office and get Desmond down here as fast as you can. Bring all of the pieces that you can carry.”
They quickly went back through the doors, running for the stairwell.
Dobbins raised his voice to the crowd. “Your security personnel are all androids. We had to disable them because they were preventing us from contacting you and because they posed a threat to us and to you. They are the ones who have been enforcing Desmond’s will upon you.”
Again, disbelief ran through portions of the crowd. “Androids? How can that be?” someone asked.
“Androids! Of course,” another said in response, “it makes perfect sense. Think about the odd color of their eyes!”
A debate broke out within the crowd, some agreed with Dobbins and others vehemently objecting to the idea.
As before, Micah exerted much effort to quiet the crowd, finally succeeding. By the time he had done so, however, Skylar and Samuelson had returned, each carrying various pieces of Desmond.
“Here,” Dobbins said, motioning to the pieces of the android, “is our proof of Desmond’s lies: Desmond himself. He was an android.”
The crowd stared at the pieces of their former mayor in shock. Finally, a woman in the crowd found her voice. “If he’s an android,” she said, “then you can reassemble and activate him, again. Show us that this is truly him and not just a clever forgery.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Dobbins responded. “Desmond overloaded its neural network about fifteen minutes ago. The physical pieces are here, but even if we were to activate it, nothing would happen. This android is in need of a major overall before it will ever function again.”
At this statement, yet another argument broke out among the crowd. This time, Micah was unable to quiet the multitude despite his best efforts. As the arguing raged, Dobbins’s hyperwave chirped.
Activating it, he spoke, “Dobbins here.”
“Captain,” Brackers’s voice said, “Brackers. We have those shuttles ready, and Mr. Zhang reports that the docking bay is now ready to accept them.”
“Excellent, Commander. Send them over at once. It looks like we’re going to need a lot of help.”
“Aye, sir,” replied the first officer. “Hyperion out.”
Someone in the crowd noticed Dobbins talking on the hyperwave. “Hey, Dobbins, who are you talking to?” she shouted.
“My ship,” Dobbins answered her. At this, even more noise broke out, voices shouting about invading armies and the destruction of Larson.
As the chaos mounted, Dobbins grabbed his blaster, set it to maximum, and blew the light post on the right-hand side of the stairs into pieces. As the debris cloud cleared, the crowd stared at him in shock.
“My apologies,” Dobbins said, “but I needed you attention. Please, listen to me. We will gladly answer any and all concerns that you have, but we need to do it in an orderly fashion.”
“Captain Dobbins is right,” Micah added before Dobbins could continue. “And I propose that we do it this way: as a crowd, we’re never going to accomplish anything except a riot. Why don’t we hold a town meeting, in one hour, in the main assembly hall?”
Despite minor protests, this plan appeared acceptable to almost all of the passengers. They slowly made their way out of the town square, some heading directly for the assembly hall on the far side of the square, others down various side streets to attend to whatever business they need to handle before coming to the meeting.
“Thank you, Micah,” Dobbins said.
“My pleasure, Captain,” replied Micah. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for someone else to come to free us from the tyranny of Desmond’s rule. I thought I was going to be found out for sure.”
“You weren’t brainwashed like the rest of the passengers?” asked Ella.
“No, ma’am,” answered Micah. “Let’s just say that I found creative ways to avoid being taken in.”
“Sounds like Leon,” Skylar observed.
“You mean that there’s someone else?” Micah asked.
“Yes,” Dobbins answered. “Leon Sapens, the chief engineer.”
“Well, I’ll be…” Micah said in surprise. “I thought for sure I was the only one left.”
He paused for a second, as if pondering the reality that he was not alone, and then added, “Captain, I suggest you prepare for the meeting coming up. It is not going to be easy to convince these people that what they’ve been told for the past 10 years is all lies.”
“We will,” Dobbins said, “but who are you? What was your original role on the Lethe?”
“My first name you already know,” Micah replied. “My last name is Packard, and I was one of the colonists headed to the new world, primarily intending to be a member of the medical clinic’s staff.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Captain, I need to head to the Assembly Hall to make sure that it is set up properly for this meeting.” He descended the steps at a moderate pace and strode off purposefully, not showing any signs of hurry
“Hyperion. Brackers here, sir. How did it work?”
“Quite well, Commander. All of the androids are neutralized, including the Mayor.”
“Sir?” Brackers’s voice betrayed total confusion.
“I’ll fill you in later, Commander. For now, get three shuttles ready for launch. We’re going to head to the control room to make docking a little easier for them, and then we’ll see if we can get the Lethe’s passengers and human crew together to fill them in on the situation.”
“I think we have already partially completed that second part of our mission, sir,” Skylar called from the far side of the room.
He had gone to stand by the large windows that overlooked the town square. Down below, a vast crowd had gathered, all roaming around and looking confused. They stayed away from the steps of the Town Hall, as if they expected someone to come out of the doors at any minute.
Dobbins walked over to look. “Well, that changes our plans a little.”
He spoke again into the hyperwave. “Mr. Brackers, launch those shuttles as soon as they are ready. We’ll have docking ports ready. Perhaps we’ll be able to have some good news to report by the time you get here. Dobbins out.
“Mr. Zhang, Mr. Sapens, go to the Control Center and get the docking bay doors open and three docking ports free. The rest of you, come with me. We’ve got our work cut out for us.”
They exited the Mayor’s office and descended to the main level. Zhang and Sapens continued down to the Control Center, while the rest of the team moved to the main doors of the Town Hall.
Dobbins paused before going through the doors. Outside, he could hear the murmuring crowd as it congregated. The tone of their voices indicated confusion and worry. He pushed the doors open. The crowd outside quickly became deathly quiet in anticipation. The silence lasted exactly three seconds before a great outcry of panic and confusion erupted. People shouted over other people, some asking questions of each other, some yelling questions at Dobbins, and everyone creating such a cacophony of voices that he could not understand anything being said.
The crowd of well over 1000 people consisted of men and women of just about every age from teenagers upward. Most were dressed in the simple clothing of farmers. All, however, seemed genuinely distressed at Dobbins’s appearance on the Town Hall steps.
Dobbins motioned with his hands to try to silence the crowd, but his effort initially met with little success. Finally, a middle-aged man climbed up four or five steps and with much effort managed to quiet the crowd.
“Citizens of Larson,” the man said, “I have no idea why this man is standing here instead of our Mayor, nor why old Leon the Watchmaker is here with him, but I am sure that there is a good reason if we will only allow him to explain himself.”
“Is he going to explain what happened to all of our security personnel, Micah?” demanded a man near the front of the throng.
“I don’t know what he knows,” responded Micah, “but give him a chance to explain himself. Perhaps the Mayor sent him here.”
The crowd began to shout approval and disapproval of the suggestion at the same time. With some effort Micah quieted them all again. “Let him speak, I said,” he ordered strongly. “After that, if his answers aren’t to your satisfaction, you’ll all be welcome to ask as many questions as you wish, provided that we do it in some sort of order to give the poor man a chance to hear you. As it is, I’d be surprised if he’s understood a thing you’ve been shouting at him. So, everyone calm down, stop shouting, and listen.”
He turned to face Dobbins, looking at the captain with a look of confused interest.
Dobbins began to speak, “I am Captain Christopher Dobbins of the Earth Hyper Ship Hyperion. We have been sent here to escort you the rest of the way to Elysion…”
The crowd began to erupt again into a wave of noise. “He’s nuts!” some shouted. “He’s a Radioactive!” others screamed. “Let him speak,” a third group clammered, “there’s got to be an explanation for his presence here.”
Micah again motioned for the crowd to quiet down, which they eventually did, allowing Dobbins to continue.
“Apparently,” Dobbins said, “your Mayor, Dante, took over many years ago and has been lying to you. You are not on Earth at all. You are on a generational starship, the Lethe, bound for an inhabitable moon named Elysion.” Some in the crowd began to grumble again. “Listen to me!” Dobbins shouted over the noise, stifling the dissent. “Your Mayor, as you call him, has deceived you into thinking that you are the sole remnants of nuclear holocaust. That was not true. Like I said, you are passengers aboard a starship, colonists for a new world. We were sent here to help you complete your journey to this new world.”
“And why should we believe you?” demanded the same man who had challenged Micah earlier. “For all we know, you’re some group of survivors from a different town that managed to cross the radioactive waste to get here. Maybe you’ve killed the Mayor or thrown him in prison, and know you’re here to try to take over with this absurd story of a starship. As far as I’m concerned, you’re whole story is too convenient. A starship? Really? If we are on a starship, why is it that I can clearly see blue sky above me with the sun rising and setting? Why is it that this world is all that there is and that it is impossible to leave this valley without dying?” Many in the crowd muttered their approval.
“We could be lying,” Dobbins answered, “but we’re not. We can prove to you that your Mayor, Desmond, was not who he claimed to be. As far as the appearances around you, you should know about holography. The sky you see is just a holographic projection. And of course you can’t leave this ‘valley.’ To do so would require you to leave the ship.”
Cries of protest broke out again. This time, Micah spoke up over them, “Captain, you say that you have proof that Desmond was lying?”
“We do, Micah,” answered Dobbins. “If you will give me a couple of minutes, we can bring the proof down to you.”
Micah addressed the crowd. “People of Larson, I say that we give this Dobbins the chance to prove his claims. He needs a couple of minutes to bring us this proof…”
“More like manufacture it,” shouted a cynical voice from the middle of the crowd, drawing scattered laughter.
“To bring us his proof,” Micah repeated, “that the Mayor has been lying to us. At that point, you all will be able to see and judge for yourselves.”
“Hey, Micah, remember that we still don’t know why every member of our security force is unconscious. Perhaps this Dobbins can explain that,” another voice called, to the approval of many.
“Yes, I can.” Dobbins responded, “if you will give me one second to send some of my team to retrieve the proof of Desmond’s lies.
He spoke to his team in a quiet voice, “Skylar, Samuelson, go up to Desmond’s office and get Desmond down here as fast as you can. Bring all of the pieces that you can carry.”
They quickly went back through the doors, running for the stairwell.
Dobbins raised his voice to the crowd. “Your security personnel are all androids. We had to disable them because they were preventing us from contacting you and because they posed a threat to us and to you. They are the ones who have been enforcing Desmond’s will upon you.”
Again, disbelief ran through portions of the crowd. “Androids? How can that be?” someone asked.
“Androids! Of course,” another said in response, “it makes perfect sense. Think about the odd color of their eyes!”
A debate broke out within the crowd, some agreed with Dobbins and others vehemently objecting to the idea.
As before, Micah exerted much effort to quiet the crowd, finally succeeding. By the time he had done so, however, Skylar and Samuelson had returned, each carrying various pieces of Desmond.
“Here,” Dobbins said, motioning to the pieces of the android, “is our proof of Desmond’s lies: Desmond himself. He was an android.”
The crowd stared at the pieces of their former mayor in shock. Finally, a woman in the crowd found her voice. “If he’s an android,” she said, “then you can reassemble and activate him, again. Show us that this is truly him and not just a clever forgery.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Dobbins responded. “Desmond overloaded its neural network about fifteen minutes ago. The physical pieces are here, but even if we were to activate it, nothing would happen. This android is in need of a major overall before it will ever function again.”
At this statement, yet another argument broke out among the crowd. This time, Micah was unable to quiet the multitude despite his best efforts. As the arguing raged, Dobbins’s hyperwave chirped.
Activating it, he spoke, “Dobbins here.”
“Captain,” Brackers’s voice said, “Brackers. We have those shuttles ready, and Mr. Zhang reports that the docking bay is now ready to accept them.”
“Excellent, Commander. Send them over at once. It looks like we’re going to need a lot of help.”
“Aye, sir,” replied the first officer. “Hyperion out.”
Someone in the crowd noticed Dobbins talking on the hyperwave. “Hey, Dobbins, who are you talking to?” she shouted.
“My ship,” Dobbins answered her. At this, even more noise broke out, voices shouting about invading armies and the destruction of Larson.
As the chaos mounted, Dobbins grabbed his blaster, set it to maximum, and blew the light post on the right-hand side of the stairs into pieces. As the debris cloud cleared, the crowd stared at him in shock.
“My apologies,” Dobbins said, “but I needed you attention. Please, listen to me. We will gladly answer any and all concerns that you have, but we need to do it in an orderly fashion.”
“Captain Dobbins is right,” Micah added before Dobbins could continue. “And I propose that we do it this way: as a crowd, we’re never going to accomplish anything except a riot. Why don’t we hold a town meeting, in one hour, in the main assembly hall?”
Despite minor protests, this plan appeared acceptable to almost all of the passengers. They slowly made their way out of the town square, some heading directly for the assembly hall on the far side of the square, others down various side streets to attend to whatever business they need to handle before coming to the meeting.
“Thank you, Micah,” Dobbins said.
“My pleasure, Captain,” replied Micah. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for someone else to come to free us from the tyranny of Desmond’s rule. I thought I was going to be found out for sure.”
“You weren’t brainwashed like the rest of the passengers?” asked Ella.
“No, ma’am,” answered Micah. “Let’s just say that I found creative ways to avoid being taken in.”
“Sounds like Leon,” Skylar observed.
“You mean that there’s someone else?” Micah asked.
“Yes,” Dobbins answered. “Leon Sapens, the chief engineer.”
“Well, I’ll be…” Micah said in surprise. “I thought for sure I was the only one left.”
He paused for a second, as if pondering the reality that he was not alone, and then added, “Captain, I suggest you prepare for the meeting coming up. It is not going to be easy to convince these people that what they’ve been told for the past 10 years is all lies.”
“We will,” Dobbins said, “but who are you? What was your original role on the Lethe?”
“My first name you already know,” Micah replied. “My last name is Packard, and I was one of the colonists headed to the new world, primarily intending to be a member of the medical clinic’s staff.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Captain, I need to head to the Assembly Hall to make sure that it is set up properly for this meeting.” He descended the steps at a moderate pace and strode off purposefully, not showing any signs of hurry
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Commentary/Editorial: Voter Backlash
Voter backlash against the majority party is a common phenomenon in American politics. It happened in 1980. It happened in 1992. It happened in 2008 and 2010, at least in the Massachusetts special election. Numerous commentators have dissected voter backlash, but I think they're missing a key component: voters presume that the government can (and will) fix the problems the country is facing.
In some cases, this presumption is correct. In the case of foreign policy decisions, financial decisions (spending, taxes), or moral decisions (e.g. the Watergate or Lewinsky Scandals), the government has the ability to fix the problems and failure to do so is rightly seen by the voters as a failure on the part of elected officials.
On the other hand, there are other times when the government faces voter backlash because the voters have unrealistic expectations of their government. In 2008, voters blamed the government for the state of the economy (and expected them to fix it immediately), even though the government was only partially to blame (and thus only partially could fix it, and even then not immediately).
Now, the backlash seen in the 2010 special election is probably a mix of both. On the one hand, voters rightfully recognized that the Democrats in Congress were not doing a good job listening to their constituents and addressing the issues that government could fix. On the other hand, voters also expected too much from the government. They are looking to government to fix all of society's ills.
This trend, that Americans in general are becoming too dependent on their government, concerns me. If we are looking to government to solve our problems, then we are going to be sorely disappointed because the most significant problems facing this country are not governmental; they are moral. And the government cannot fix a moral problem like this, only God can.
I know that many will probably object that we as Americans have "been there, done that" with Christianity. If by Christianity, they mean the social religion where people put on their Christianity along with their church clothes, only to drop it just as fast, then, yes, America has already tried it and failed. I am not saying we need to return to a society where we are Christian on the outside but non-Christian on the inside. America's moral problems, from fraudulent accounting to teenagers making self-destructive choices, cannot be fixed by a veneer of Christianity. (After all, we had those same problems even we had the appearance of being a "Christian society.") Instead, we as Americans need to turn to Jesus Christ in a way that we never have as a society: wholeheartedly and deeply. Unless many Americans surrender their hearts to Christ and allow Him to change them from the inside out, I think we will continue to face the same challenges and continually find ourselves disappointed when the circumstances do not improve as we would like.
So, as the 2010 election cycle swings into gear, I hope that the voting public tempers its expectations of what government can and cannot do. Government cannot fix many of the problems of America. It certainly can make many things worse. (That is why I would like to see a more balanced power structure in Congress. Having one party in control has not worked well in our country's history.) Ultimately, the problems at the core of American society can be fixed only at the altar, not at the voting booth.
In some cases, this presumption is correct. In the case of foreign policy decisions, financial decisions (spending, taxes), or moral decisions (e.g. the Watergate or Lewinsky Scandals), the government has the ability to fix the problems and failure to do so is rightly seen by the voters as a failure on the part of elected officials.
On the other hand, there are other times when the government faces voter backlash because the voters have unrealistic expectations of their government. In 2008, voters blamed the government for the state of the economy (and expected them to fix it immediately), even though the government was only partially to blame (and thus only partially could fix it, and even then not immediately).
Now, the backlash seen in the 2010 special election is probably a mix of both. On the one hand, voters rightfully recognized that the Democrats in Congress were not doing a good job listening to their constituents and addressing the issues that government could fix. On the other hand, voters also expected too much from the government. They are looking to government to fix all of society's ills.
This trend, that Americans in general are becoming too dependent on their government, concerns me. If we are looking to government to solve our problems, then we are going to be sorely disappointed because the most significant problems facing this country are not governmental; they are moral. And the government cannot fix a moral problem like this, only God can.
I know that many will probably object that we as Americans have "been there, done that" with Christianity. If by Christianity, they mean the social religion where people put on their Christianity along with their church clothes, only to drop it just as fast, then, yes, America has already tried it and failed. I am not saying we need to return to a society where we are Christian on the outside but non-Christian on the inside. America's moral problems, from fraudulent accounting to teenagers making self-destructive choices, cannot be fixed by a veneer of Christianity. (After all, we had those same problems even we had the appearance of being a "Christian society.") Instead, we as Americans need to turn to Jesus Christ in a way that we never have as a society: wholeheartedly and deeply. Unless many Americans surrender their hearts to Christ and allow Him to change them from the inside out, I think we will continue to face the same challenges and continually find ourselves disappointed when the circumstances do not improve as we would like.
So, as the 2010 election cycle swings into gear, I hope that the voting public tempers its expectations of what government can and cannot do. Government cannot fix many of the problems of America. It certainly can make many things worse. (That is why I would like to see a more balanced power structure in Congress. Having one party in control has not worked well in our country's history.) Ultimately, the problems at the core of American society can be fixed only at the altar, not at the voting booth.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Story: The Lethe, pt. XXII
Commander Ella retrieved her scanner from where it had fallen from the guard’s hand. After a quick scan, she exclaimed, “Captain, you’re not going to believe this! Desmond is an android!”
“What?” Skylar exclaimed. “That can’t be. He doesn’t have purple eyes!”
“True,” Dobbins answered thoughtfully, “but some other aspects of this situation make sense. Who better to lead a group of androids in a rebellion than an android? I didn’t realize that Fleet Com had put an android in the first officer position. Mr. Sapens, why didn’t you know that?”
The old man shrugged. “I didn’t know myself, Captain. And I never really thought to ask. He seemed a bit cold, a bit distant, but I guess I figured it was his way of being in charge, you know, of separating himself from those underneath him. Since he didn’t look like those other walking machines we had roaming around, I figured that he was another human like us.”
“The question remains,” Zhang said, “how an android programmed to assist the Lethe wound up taking over the ship entirely.”
“A good question, Mr. Zhang,” Dobbins answered. “Perhaps we should ask him. Mr. Sapens, can you re-activate Desmond?”
“Are you sure that’s the wise thing to do, Captain?” Leon asked. “After all, he was just about ready to have us all sent off to be brainwashed.”
“Yes, I’m sure. He can’t hurt us without his security androids to help. And they’re permanently disabled now, unless they receive the activation code.”
“That’s just my point. He’ll be logging into the computer system the second we turn him back on. He wouldn’t need but a few milliseconds to figure out he to re-activate the other androids. I’m not sure it’s safe to activate him, again.”
“We could take off his arms and legs,” Zhang said. “Without those, he wouldn’t be able to get to a computer terminal.”
“That’s a good idea, there, sonny,” Leon responded, “except that, being an android, Desmond also has a wireless link to the computer. He could get into that system faster than we could turn him off again.”
“Could you disable his wireless receiver?” Samuelson asked.
“I suppose I could, although it’d take me a few minutes to find where it is. I haven’t had to work on any androids in quite a while.”
“I could help,” Zhang offered. “Together, I’m sure we can disable that function and still have Desmond be fully functioning.”
“Do it.” Dobbins ordered.
Leon and Zhang set to work detaching Desmond’s appendages. First, they straightened Desmond into an upright, seated position. Then, they began the task of removing his arms and legs. Within a couple of minutes, only his torso and head remained. The rest of him sat against one wall, useless without their connection to the main body. With Desmond now without extremities, Leon and Dobbins began the delicate task of tracking down and deactivating the wireless receiver that usually linked Desmond to the central computer. After twenty minutes of searching and scanning, they found the receiver behind Desmond’s left ear and removed it from his head. After closing the access panel behind the ear, Leon opened Desmond’s central chest cavity and touched a sequence of control buttons, re-activating the android.
Desmond’s head, which had been slumped backwards without the support of artificial muscles, snapped into a normal position. His eyes searched around the room, and he appeared to be trying to move his arms and legs. When he did not move, he quickly looked at himself before speaking. “Very clever, Captain,” he said to Dobbins. “It appears that you have me exactly where you want me. Why did you re-activate me? Do you wish now to gloat?”
“I want answers, Desmond,” Dobbins replied. “Where is Captain Loman? Why did you take over? Will you help us undo the damage you’ve caused by deceiving all these passengers?”
Desmond smiled a cold smile. “Captain, what makes you think that I am going to answer any of your questions now when I did not before? You can take me apart until only my power cells and head remain. I will not tell you anything. Besides, since you are so clever, I am sure that you will figure everything out relatively quickly. And I think you will also find that it will not be so easy convincing all of the passengers that they have been deceived.
“Now, Captain, since I obviously am not going to help you at all, I think I shall be going. Good bye, Captain.”
Desmond’s eyes rolled back into his head, which began twitching left and right fitfully.
“He’s re-formatting his neural network, destroying himself!” Zhang exclaimed as he rushed to try to power off the android before the process could be completed. He quickly opened Desmond’s main panel and began frantically working inside the cavity. He was too late. Within seconds, Desmond’s eyes rolled back forward, appearing empty, unfocused, and vacant. His head slumped forward and sank down to his chest.
Zhang grabbed a scanner and waved it over Desmond a couple of times. “It’s no good, sir,” he reported. “This android is gone. The neural network is fried beyond belief. How he managed to accomplish such a task is beyond me. There are so many directives in his programming that should have prevented him from willfully setting up a cascading neural overload like that.”
“He did quite a few things that went against normal android directives,” Samuelson observed. “He must have malfunctioned in some way. I wonder if we’ll ever find out how.”
Zhang shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe if we took him back to the Cybernetics Lab in North America, they might be able to find a cause. I’m pretty sure, though, that this overload has fried all of his—I mean “its”—memory, processing, and relays. It will never function again.”
“Regardless of the cause,” Ella said, “we have another task ahead of us: getting the Lethe to Elysion and helping the colonists get themselves established. I have a feeling that it won’t be easy after all these years of manipulation.”
“What?” Skylar exclaimed. “That can’t be. He doesn’t have purple eyes!”
“True,” Dobbins answered thoughtfully, “but some other aspects of this situation make sense. Who better to lead a group of androids in a rebellion than an android? I didn’t realize that Fleet Com had put an android in the first officer position. Mr. Sapens, why didn’t you know that?”
The old man shrugged. “I didn’t know myself, Captain. And I never really thought to ask. He seemed a bit cold, a bit distant, but I guess I figured it was his way of being in charge, you know, of separating himself from those underneath him. Since he didn’t look like those other walking machines we had roaming around, I figured that he was another human like us.”
“The question remains,” Zhang said, “how an android programmed to assist the Lethe wound up taking over the ship entirely.”
“A good question, Mr. Zhang,” Dobbins answered. “Perhaps we should ask him. Mr. Sapens, can you re-activate Desmond?”
“Are you sure that’s the wise thing to do, Captain?” Leon asked. “After all, he was just about ready to have us all sent off to be brainwashed.”
“Yes, I’m sure. He can’t hurt us without his security androids to help. And they’re permanently disabled now, unless they receive the activation code.”
“That’s just my point. He’ll be logging into the computer system the second we turn him back on. He wouldn’t need but a few milliseconds to figure out he to re-activate the other androids. I’m not sure it’s safe to activate him, again.”
“We could take off his arms and legs,” Zhang said. “Without those, he wouldn’t be able to get to a computer terminal.”
“That’s a good idea, there, sonny,” Leon responded, “except that, being an android, Desmond also has a wireless link to the computer. He could get into that system faster than we could turn him off again.”
“Could you disable his wireless receiver?” Samuelson asked.
“I suppose I could, although it’d take me a few minutes to find where it is. I haven’t had to work on any androids in quite a while.”
“I could help,” Zhang offered. “Together, I’m sure we can disable that function and still have Desmond be fully functioning.”
“Do it.” Dobbins ordered.
Leon and Zhang set to work detaching Desmond’s appendages. First, they straightened Desmond into an upright, seated position. Then, they began the task of removing his arms and legs. Within a couple of minutes, only his torso and head remained. The rest of him sat against one wall, useless without their connection to the main body. With Desmond now without extremities, Leon and Dobbins began the delicate task of tracking down and deactivating the wireless receiver that usually linked Desmond to the central computer. After twenty minutes of searching and scanning, they found the receiver behind Desmond’s left ear and removed it from his head. After closing the access panel behind the ear, Leon opened Desmond’s central chest cavity and touched a sequence of control buttons, re-activating the android.
Desmond’s head, which had been slumped backwards without the support of artificial muscles, snapped into a normal position. His eyes searched around the room, and he appeared to be trying to move his arms and legs. When he did not move, he quickly looked at himself before speaking. “Very clever, Captain,” he said to Dobbins. “It appears that you have me exactly where you want me. Why did you re-activate me? Do you wish now to gloat?”
“I want answers, Desmond,” Dobbins replied. “Where is Captain Loman? Why did you take over? Will you help us undo the damage you’ve caused by deceiving all these passengers?”
Desmond smiled a cold smile. “Captain, what makes you think that I am going to answer any of your questions now when I did not before? You can take me apart until only my power cells and head remain. I will not tell you anything. Besides, since you are so clever, I am sure that you will figure everything out relatively quickly. And I think you will also find that it will not be so easy convincing all of the passengers that they have been deceived.
“Now, Captain, since I obviously am not going to help you at all, I think I shall be going. Good bye, Captain.”
Desmond’s eyes rolled back into his head, which began twitching left and right fitfully.
“He’s re-formatting his neural network, destroying himself!” Zhang exclaimed as he rushed to try to power off the android before the process could be completed. He quickly opened Desmond’s main panel and began frantically working inside the cavity. He was too late. Within seconds, Desmond’s eyes rolled back forward, appearing empty, unfocused, and vacant. His head slumped forward and sank down to his chest.
Zhang grabbed a scanner and waved it over Desmond a couple of times. “It’s no good, sir,” he reported. “This android is gone. The neural network is fried beyond belief. How he managed to accomplish such a task is beyond me. There are so many directives in his programming that should have prevented him from willfully setting up a cascading neural overload like that.”
“He did quite a few things that went against normal android directives,” Samuelson observed. “He must have malfunctioned in some way. I wonder if we’ll ever find out how.”
Zhang shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe if we took him back to the Cybernetics Lab in North America, they might be able to find a cause. I’m pretty sure, though, that this overload has fried all of his—I mean “its”—memory, processing, and relays. It will never function again.”
“Regardless of the cause,” Ella said, “we have another task ahead of us: getting the Lethe to Elysion and helping the colonists get themselves established. I have a feeling that it won’t be easy after all these years of manipulation.”
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Mysteries of Friction
While on the way to a Scholars' Bowl tournament in Riley, KS, yesterday, the suburban I was driving hit a patch of black ice and slid off of I-70 and into the median. Praise God, no one was hurt, and the only damage to the suburban was a flat tire. The odd part about the whole situation was that I was not driving that fast, certainly not as fast as people who were passing me moments before I slid off. While we were stuck in the median waiting on a tow truck, innumerable vehicles passed along the same spot on the road, and none of them slid off the road. It's as if the black ice that we hit was no longer even there. For whatever reason, a combination of factors caused us to lose traction and slide off of the road. Friction, thou art a fickle naive.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Story: The Lethe, pt. XXI
The team left the shuttle and proceed carefully through the hallways towards the town hall. Dobbins explained his plan to the team as they headed forward. Their goal was to get into the Mayor’s office, where they expected to find Desmond. Based on Leon’s knowledge of the Town Hall, this office was on the upper floor of the building, unless Desmond had moved it. They would sneak back in through the auxiliary entrance and work their way upward to Desmond’s office, hopefully encountering minimal resistance along the way. The only other option was a frontal assault on the Town Hall, something that would draw every security android on the ship.
They arrived at the Control Center door and had little trouble bypassing its lock. Inside, the same two androids they stunned previously fell again, disabled with a shot from Samuelson’s blaster. “Rough day for those two guys,” Skylar commented.
The team moved through the Control Center itself and found the staircase that led up to the upper levels of the Town Hall. With Ella constantly scanning ahead for androids, they crept up the stairs, ready for a fight at any minute. When they reached the top floor, they paused while Ella scanned for guards on the floor. She could detect two in front of the mayor’s doors and one inside the mayor’s office.
On Dobbins’s signal, Samuelson and Skylar burst through the stairwell door and disabled both android guards with one shot each. The team quickly stormed into the Mayor’s office.
Inside, they found themselves in a vast, open, airy room. Along the far wall stood a vast bank of windows that overlooked the town square. Doors on either side led off to other rooms. A bank of computers stood along one wall and seemed to be a miniature control center. Lavish couches and opulent tables were placed all around the room, giving the room the appearance of the lobby of a five-star hotel instead of an executive office. In the middle of the room was a vast desk, piled in papers. Beside the desk stood a woman, presumably the mayor’s secretary, a middle-aged woman who started at the newcomers in shock. Seated behind the desk was the Mayor himself, who looked up as the team entered. His face showed no indication of shock.
Smiling slightly, he said, “Captain Dobbins! So nice of you to drop in. I just had received word that you and your team had not arrived as expected at the security facility. How nice of you to save me the trouble of having to track you down. You will, of course, surrender right now.”
Dobbins ignored the other man’s arrogance. “We need to talk, Desmond. Your mutiny of this ship is unacceptable. I expect you to relinquish command to Chief Engineer Sapens right away and assign yourself to the brig. That’s an order.”
“I am afraid that I cannot do that, Captain,” replied Desmond. “You see, on this ship, I give the orders; I do not take them. Momentarily, I think you will find that twenty guards will be coming through that door. I summoned them here via a silent alarm as you came in.” The sound of the stairwell door opening and closing came from the hallway outside the room. “Ah,” continued Desmond, “here they are now.”
Twenty guards entered the room, all of them the same height and build, some with brown hair, some with blond, but all with unnatural golden eyes. They pointed their blasters at the team. “Surrender your equipment, now,” ordered one of the androids.
Dobbins and the team had no choice but to comply. As they began to hand everything over to the guards, Dobbins hyperwave communicator began to chirp.
“You may answer it, Captain,” Desmond said smugly, “but no tricks.”
Dobbins grabbed the device and activated it. “Dobbins.”
“Captain,” responded Brackers’s voice, “Brackers here. Lieutenant Sawyer did not find anything on her search, sir. But she contacted Fleet Com, who sent us back the necessary program. We’re ready to run it when you are, sir.”
Desmond looked at Dobbins in a threatening manner.
“Hang on, Commander.” Dobbins ordered. “I’m not quite ready for it, yet.”
“Is everything all right, sir?” Brackers asked.
“Yes, everything’s Code Blue,” Dobbins answered. “Get everything set-up, but wait for my order to execute.”
“Understood sir,” Brackers said. “We’ll wait on your order. Hyperion out.”
“Excellent job, Captain,” Desmond said condescendingly as Dobbins handed the hyperwave over the guards. “Anything more foolish would have cost you dearly during the re-programming. We have ways of making it, shall I say, less comfortable, if we need to.”
Dobbins did not respond at all.
“Are you not going to say, ‘You will never get away with this, Desmond?’ ” asked the Mayor, mockingly.
“Do you really think that I’m going to say something that cliché?” countered Dobbins.
“No,” responded Desmond, “but you do have an entire ship out there, and you could send more of your crew over here and take over my town. I cannot allow that to happen. Call your ship again, Captain, and order them to…”
The beeping from the computer bank interrupted Desmond’s orders. One of the android guards spoke up without even looking at the computer screen. “Mayor,” he said, “someone is accessing our computer system without authorization.”
“Who?” demanded the Mayor.
“I do not know, sir. It appears to be coming from outside the ship.”
Desmond glared at Dobbins. “Very clever, Captain. I did not realize that Fleet Com had changed the code for personnel in distress over the last 30 years. I am afraid, however, that your little plan, whatever it is, is going to fail miserably.
“Jam all external and internal communications,” he ordered the guard.
The guard attempted to comply, but before it could complete the procedure, the computer sounded a different warning tone and began to display a ten-second countdown.
“Sir,” the android said flatly, “someone has activated the android shutdown proto….” It collapsed to the floor, unable to complete its report. The other nineteen guards likewise shut down and fell to the floor.
To the team’s complete astonishment, Desmond, too, slumped forward in his chair, apparently unconscious.
They arrived at the Control Center door and had little trouble bypassing its lock. Inside, the same two androids they stunned previously fell again, disabled with a shot from Samuelson’s blaster. “Rough day for those two guys,” Skylar commented.
The team moved through the Control Center itself and found the staircase that led up to the upper levels of the Town Hall. With Ella constantly scanning ahead for androids, they crept up the stairs, ready for a fight at any minute. When they reached the top floor, they paused while Ella scanned for guards on the floor. She could detect two in front of the mayor’s doors and one inside the mayor’s office.
On Dobbins’s signal, Samuelson and Skylar burst through the stairwell door and disabled both android guards with one shot each. The team quickly stormed into the Mayor’s office.
Inside, they found themselves in a vast, open, airy room. Along the far wall stood a vast bank of windows that overlooked the town square. Doors on either side led off to other rooms. A bank of computers stood along one wall and seemed to be a miniature control center. Lavish couches and opulent tables were placed all around the room, giving the room the appearance of the lobby of a five-star hotel instead of an executive office. In the middle of the room was a vast desk, piled in papers. Beside the desk stood a woman, presumably the mayor’s secretary, a middle-aged woman who started at the newcomers in shock. Seated behind the desk was the Mayor himself, who looked up as the team entered. His face showed no indication of shock.
Smiling slightly, he said, “Captain Dobbins! So nice of you to drop in. I just had received word that you and your team had not arrived as expected at the security facility. How nice of you to save me the trouble of having to track you down. You will, of course, surrender right now.”
Dobbins ignored the other man’s arrogance. “We need to talk, Desmond. Your mutiny of this ship is unacceptable. I expect you to relinquish command to Chief Engineer Sapens right away and assign yourself to the brig. That’s an order.”
“I am afraid that I cannot do that, Captain,” replied Desmond. “You see, on this ship, I give the orders; I do not take them. Momentarily, I think you will find that twenty guards will be coming through that door. I summoned them here via a silent alarm as you came in.” The sound of the stairwell door opening and closing came from the hallway outside the room. “Ah,” continued Desmond, “here they are now.”
Twenty guards entered the room, all of them the same height and build, some with brown hair, some with blond, but all with unnatural golden eyes. They pointed their blasters at the team. “Surrender your equipment, now,” ordered one of the androids.
Dobbins and the team had no choice but to comply. As they began to hand everything over to the guards, Dobbins hyperwave communicator began to chirp.
“You may answer it, Captain,” Desmond said smugly, “but no tricks.”
Dobbins grabbed the device and activated it. “Dobbins.”
“Captain,” responded Brackers’s voice, “Brackers here. Lieutenant Sawyer did not find anything on her search, sir. But she contacted Fleet Com, who sent us back the necessary program. We’re ready to run it when you are, sir.”
Desmond looked at Dobbins in a threatening manner.
“Hang on, Commander.” Dobbins ordered. “I’m not quite ready for it, yet.”
“Is everything all right, sir?” Brackers asked.
“Yes, everything’s Code Blue,” Dobbins answered. “Get everything set-up, but wait for my order to execute.”
“Understood sir,” Brackers said. “We’ll wait on your order. Hyperion out.”
“Excellent job, Captain,” Desmond said condescendingly as Dobbins handed the hyperwave over the guards. “Anything more foolish would have cost you dearly during the re-programming. We have ways of making it, shall I say, less comfortable, if we need to.”
Dobbins did not respond at all.
“Are you not going to say, ‘You will never get away with this, Desmond?’ ” asked the Mayor, mockingly.
“Do you really think that I’m going to say something that cliché?” countered Dobbins.
“No,” responded Desmond, “but you do have an entire ship out there, and you could send more of your crew over here and take over my town. I cannot allow that to happen. Call your ship again, Captain, and order them to…”
The beeping from the computer bank interrupted Desmond’s orders. One of the android guards spoke up without even looking at the computer screen. “Mayor,” he said, “someone is accessing our computer system without authorization.”
“Who?” demanded the Mayor.
“I do not know, sir. It appears to be coming from outside the ship.”
Desmond glared at Dobbins. “Very clever, Captain. I did not realize that Fleet Com had changed the code for personnel in distress over the last 30 years. I am afraid, however, that your little plan, whatever it is, is going to fail miserably.
“Jam all external and internal communications,” he ordered the guard.
The guard attempted to comply, but before it could complete the procedure, the computer sounded a different warning tone and began to display a ten-second countdown.
“Sir,” the android said flatly, “someone has activated the android shutdown proto….” It collapsed to the floor, unable to complete its report. The other nineteen guards likewise shut down and fell to the floor.
To the team’s complete astonishment, Desmond, too, slumped forward in his chair, apparently unconscious.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
The Thaw Is Coming
When the numbers of snow on the ground (8) is greater than the high temperature (2), it must be a cold winter day. That was the story for the 2nd half of last week. It has been well below freezing for multiple days, now. Some relief from the bitter cold came today, with a high in the 20s. Forecast highs for later this week are above freezing. Finally, the numerous inches of snow can melt. I'm ready for warmer weather, even if it's only slightly warmer.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
Story: The Lethe, pt. XX
They turned to face the speaker. He was just over 6 feet tall, had brown hair and brown eyes. Four security androids flanked him, two on a side.
“Well, Captain Dobbins,” Desmond continued in a flat voice, “I give you and your team full credit for getting this far. When I saw the reports that you had escaped from the brig, I figured it was only a matter of minutes before we re-captured you. I underestimated your ingenuity. Congratulations.
“And, now, your blasters, please.” One of the security androids stepped forward and relieved Samuelson of his weapon.
“How did you find us?” asked Samuelson.
“Quite simple, really,” replied Desmond. “I knew that once you had escaped from us initially that you would eventually come here and try to shut down my androids. All I had to do was watch for unexpected computer access and then bring four of my best guards down.
“Enough answering on my part. Now, you will answer my questions. Where are the other members of your team? How many other people have you contacted besides the Watchmaker?”
No one answered.
“No one wishes to answer?” Desmond said menacingly. “Very well. You leave me with little choice. Take them back to the security center by the underground route, and prepare them for interrogation, level 5. No tactic is off limits.”
The android guards moved around the team and began to prod them towards the auxiliary entrance. “Come on, human,” ordered one, “get moving.”
Suddenly, Samuelson grabbed one of the guards by the hand and executed a perfect judo throw, tossing the android against a wall. The other androids responded immediately, opening fire on Samuelson, who collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath but otherwise unhurt. The blasters had been set to stun.
“As you can see,” Desmond said, “we value your lives, at least, right now. Any more tricks, and that attitude could change. Take them away!” He spun around and left the Control Center.
One of the guards dragged Samuelson back to his feet, while another helped the fallen android to its feet. It was unharmed by the attack. The guards positioned themselves behind and to the side of the prisoners, giving them no options for escape.
They walked out to the hallway and turned right. They continued on in silence for about a minute when the sound of a blaster echoed off of the walls. The two guards on the prisoners’ left collapsed to the ground. The other two guards looked around, desperately searching for the source of the blaster fire. A second blaster shot resounded, and the remaining two guards also fell over, disabled.
A ventilation panel in the wall just slightly ahead of them opened up, and from out of the duct crawled Skylar, blaster in hand.
“Nice work, Mr. Skylar,” commended Dobbins, “but why are you here? I ordered you and Commander Ella to stay board the shuttle.”
“I know, sir,” replied the young helmsman, “but we thought it would be wise…” he paused to sneeze. “…to use the shuttle’s sensors to keep track of your progress, just in case you got into any trouble. It sure looks like it’s a good thing we did, too. When we saw that there were…” again, a sneeze, “…androids confronting you in the Control Center and that they were escorting you back towards the Security Station, we quickly hatched a plan to rescue you.”
“A plan that involved you crawling into an air duct,” added Ella as she came around the corner from her hiding place. “Better you than me.”
“Ah, come on,” Skylar responded. “It was kind of fun, like those games I used to play as a kid. Although,” he paused yet again to sneeze, “it was a bit dusty.”
“Did you contact the Hyperion?” Dobbins asked.
“Yes,” answered Ella, “but we didn’t get to explain the situation very well before we had to come rescue you.”
“Well, then, let’s head back to the shuttle. I’m sure Commander Brackers would like an update on what’s going on. Then, I want to pay our dear friend the Mayor a little unannounced visit.”
Before they headed down the hallway, Leon and Zhang quickly pulled out the power module from each of the androids. There was no sense in allowing them to recover from being stunned and reporting the escape to Desmond or one of his minions.
They soon arrived at the shuttle and went in. As Samuelson and Skylar worked on assembling the necessary equipment—scanners, blasters, portable hyperwave radios—Dobbins contacted the Hyperion and filled Brackers in on their adventures to that point.
“It sounds like it’s quite a mess over there, sir,” said the First Officer when Dobbins had finished. “We have the teams you requested, sir, but it sounds to me like you need some back-up. I could have two security teams over there in twenty minutes.”
“No, Mr. Brackers, not yet,” answered Dobbins. “I don’t want to start an all-out battle over here with androids. I’m worried that the passengers might get hurt. Instead, have Lieutenant Sawyer search the Hyperion’s computer to see if she can find a program that we could put into the Lethe’s computer that would disable all of the androids at once. Contact me once you’ve found something. While you’re doing that, we’re going to go pay a visit to Mayor Desmond Loman.”
“Aye, sir,” replied Brackers, “good luck.”
“Well, Captain Dobbins,” Desmond continued in a flat voice, “I give you and your team full credit for getting this far. When I saw the reports that you had escaped from the brig, I figured it was only a matter of minutes before we re-captured you. I underestimated your ingenuity. Congratulations.
“And, now, your blasters, please.” One of the security androids stepped forward and relieved Samuelson of his weapon.
“How did you find us?” asked Samuelson.
“Quite simple, really,” replied Desmond. “I knew that once you had escaped from us initially that you would eventually come here and try to shut down my androids. All I had to do was watch for unexpected computer access and then bring four of my best guards down.
“Enough answering on my part. Now, you will answer my questions. Where are the other members of your team? How many other people have you contacted besides the Watchmaker?”
No one answered.
“No one wishes to answer?” Desmond said menacingly. “Very well. You leave me with little choice. Take them back to the security center by the underground route, and prepare them for interrogation, level 5. No tactic is off limits.”
The android guards moved around the team and began to prod them towards the auxiliary entrance. “Come on, human,” ordered one, “get moving.”
Suddenly, Samuelson grabbed one of the guards by the hand and executed a perfect judo throw, tossing the android against a wall. The other androids responded immediately, opening fire on Samuelson, who collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath but otherwise unhurt. The blasters had been set to stun.
“As you can see,” Desmond said, “we value your lives, at least, right now. Any more tricks, and that attitude could change. Take them away!” He spun around and left the Control Center.
One of the guards dragged Samuelson back to his feet, while another helped the fallen android to its feet. It was unharmed by the attack. The guards positioned themselves behind and to the side of the prisoners, giving them no options for escape.
They walked out to the hallway and turned right. They continued on in silence for about a minute when the sound of a blaster echoed off of the walls. The two guards on the prisoners’ left collapsed to the ground. The other two guards looked around, desperately searching for the source of the blaster fire. A second blaster shot resounded, and the remaining two guards also fell over, disabled.
A ventilation panel in the wall just slightly ahead of them opened up, and from out of the duct crawled Skylar, blaster in hand.
“Nice work, Mr. Skylar,” commended Dobbins, “but why are you here? I ordered you and Commander Ella to stay board the shuttle.”
“I know, sir,” replied the young helmsman, “but we thought it would be wise…” he paused to sneeze. “…to use the shuttle’s sensors to keep track of your progress, just in case you got into any trouble. It sure looks like it’s a good thing we did, too. When we saw that there were…” again, a sneeze, “…androids confronting you in the Control Center and that they were escorting you back towards the Security Station, we quickly hatched a plan to rescue you.”
“A plan that involved you crawling into an air duct,” added Ella as she came around the corner from her hiding place. “Better you than me.”
“Ah, come on,” Skylar responded. “It was kind of fun, like those games I used to play as a kid. Although,” he paused yet again to sneeze, “it was a bit dusty.”
“Did you contact the Hyperion?” Dobbins asked.
“Yes,” answered Ella, “but we didn’t get to explain the situation very well before we had to come rescue you.”
“Well, then, let’s head back to the shuttle. I’m sure Commander Brackers would like an update on what’s going on. Then, I want to pay our dear friend the Mayor a little unannounced visit.”
Before they headed down the hallway, Leon and Zhang quickly pulled out the power module from each of the androids. There was no sense in allowing them to recover from being stunned and reporting the escape to Desmond or one of his minions.
They soon arrived at the shuttle and went in. As Samuelson and Skylar worked on assembling the necessary equipment—scanners, blasters, portable hyperwave radios—Dobbins contacted the Hyperion and filled Brackers in on their adventures to that point.
“It sounds like it’s quite a mess over there, sir,” said the First Officer when Dobbins had finished. “We have the teams you requested, sir, but it sounds to me like you need some back-up. I could have two security teams over there in twenty minutes.”
“No, Mr. Brackers, not yet,” answered Dobbins. “I don’t want to start an all-out battle over here with androids. I’m worried that the passengers might get hurt. Instead, have Lieutenant Sawyer search the Hyperion’s computer to see if she can find a program that we could put into the Lethe’s computer that would disable all of the androids at once. Contact me once you’ve found something. While you’re doing that, we’re going to go pay a visit to Mayor Desmond Loman.”
“Aye, sir,” replied Brackers, “good luck.”
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Snow
I haven't seen this much snow in Topeka in my seven years hear. I haven't yet measured the total amount of snow on the ground, but I did measure the new snowfall: 2 inches. I would guess that there are probably 6-7 inches of snow on the ground right now. It's not going away anytime soon, either. The cold weather is forecast to continue throughout the week, and more snow, combined with high winds and bitter cold, is forecast for Wednesday and Thursday. Ah, winter indeed has returned to Topeka after an absence of several years.
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