| abstract
| - Observatory - Chase Technologies Stepping out onto the circular baseball stadium sized observation level is like stepping out into the tremendously beautiful nebula itself. The entire top floor of the station is encased in a massive two-way transparisteel dome, and the wondrous and vibrant colourful swirls and streams that make up the Rainbow Climbs are all around you. Reds, yellows, greens, blues, purples, and other hues outside of the visible light spectrum flow together, creating an exotic cosmic dance of colours. Distant flashing behind the clouds resemble faint and silent lightning. This is the next best thing to being out in space, and the view can be as dizzying as it is awesome. It's akin being inside of a snow globe. Luckily, one can avoid the brush with vertigo by focusing on the display booths and science exhibits that are spread around the circular deck. There are all manner of alien life and exhibits being shown. Observation telescopes are arrayed on the outer ring of the level for those wishing to gaze out, and elevators can take visitors to and from the lower level habitat and docking rings. Security is present, but they do a good job of remaining invisible and non-intrusive. Visitors are required to check or otherwise deactivate their weapons. Contents: Exhibit - Pile-Up's Pile-Up Giant Bat Fusillade Exhibit - Shockwave's Sam Mortex Exhibit - Compton Xabat's Dee-Kal Compton Xabat Exhibit - First Aid's Red Alert Shockwave Exhibit - Compton Xabat's This exhibit appears to be the cross section of some sort of a house. Looks like it would be a nice place to live, but there's something off about some of the appliances in the home. They look much sleeker than normal appliances, and seem to have unnecessary seams across them. Parked in front of the house is a car of unknown make, also with numerous seams across its body. Hm. Something's fishy here. For the second year in a row, the Chase Observatory is filled with life and excitement as aliens both familiar and exotic man their booths, give their presentations to onlookers, or simply move from exhibit to exhibit to take it all in. Starships of all sizes, makes, and models are parked just outside. There's barely room to get in. The docking rings are full of travelers going to and from their vessels, and the sound of chattering is constant. Chip Chase himself is here, overlooking the events from one of the observation platforms. To one side is a pretty young woman holding a notepad. She looks like she's just out of university. She has a notepad in her hands and is jotting stuff down. Chip is watching as people flood onto the main observation deck, seeing who he recognizes. Normally this place is empty by comparison! Exhibit - Shockwave's This exhibit is some kind of prototype. It looks like a black sphere about four feet in diameter, with short silver rods projecting from it evenly spaced all over its surface. The cardboard panel behind it, folded into three sections so that it stands up, describes the device as a "chronal dissonance engine." The engineering described is, to say the least, occult. Supra-genius intelligences might notice that perhaps unsurprisingly much of the more practical science, certainly anything that would be useful in attempting to reproduce the device, is missing from the dense wall of text and diagram. According to the three-part poster the device somehow creates energy out of nowhere by extracting it from the past, sapping history of its energy in the process. Shockwave stands quietly near his exhibit, keeping a very close eye on anyone who comes to read the poster, and answering their questions in short, cryptic statements, or just as often by reciting formulae. First Aid is at his booth, though he isn't the only one manning it. Several kids in their late teens or early twenties are there as well. They all look like unbelievable nerds, and they're chatting with each other about the latest theories about brainwaves. First Aid is participating, but he doesn't know much about how human brains work anyhow. Several of the kids are wearing Berkeley jackets. At least one of them is always ready to chat with passerbys and asnwer various questions that come their way. The work looks very advanced. It may be to Chip Chase's horror that one of the participants in this exhibit is none other than the ruthless terrorist Compton Xabat--and this time, he's not bothering with a disguise! While he's dressing respectably in a sharp black suit, this is somewhat offset by his small gang of thugs accompanying him. Nevertheless, he waits by his exhibit for the real show to begin. A tentacle comments that the home displayed in his exhibit doesn't seem suited for his species, and Xabat simply smiles and says, "Sorry." Shockwave doesn't have any friends, at his booth or otherwise. He just has drones. One of the drones is sweeping up where someone spilled a large fries near Shockwave's booth. Red Alert arrived fairly early - early enough to watch most people set up, to pace the room himself, to familiarize himself with the local security measures already in place, and, generally, to be Red Alert. Now he generally walks slowly among the exhibits, subjecting both allies and enemies to the same suspicious gaze, although every now and again, something will trigger in him and he will suddenly dart toward across the gathering, to subject complete strangers to that suspicious frown instead. Biting her lower lip, Isolde Meissner patters into the exhibit hall, meeting programs and abstract booklets clutched to her chest. Glancing over half-frame glances, she stops dead at the view overhead, whistling softly to herself. There's a quick, thoughtful glance in the direction of Berkeley gaggle from the college freshman. Maybe for grad school. All the highly specialized presentations and booths were a bit daunting, but she recalls her mother saying that general conventions were much friendlier than those in the same field -- where everyone knew what they and YOU were doing. She finds the letter and number of the slot for her poster, and begins unrolling it. "Oh you've got to be kidding me," Chip says with a sigh, leaning forward in his hoverchair as Compton Xabat makes his arrival. "I remember his exhibit last year. The guy just doesn't understand the concept of 'don't present an invention that's for war'." The aide smiles, "So you're fine with Decepticons but not Xabat?" she points out, gesturing in Shockwave's direction. Chip thinks about this. "Well Compton's really easy to hate, Rachel." First Aid meanwhile tells his friends, "I'm going to go check out the other exhibits, guys. Can you man the booth for a while?" After getting the a-ok, the Protectobot steps out, nearly rnning right into Red Alert. "Oh, hello there, Red!" he exclaims, "I was just going to see what Shockwave's exhibit consists of. Care to join me?" Red Alert immediately forms a theory that First Aid is planning to colaborate with Shockwave, then dismisses it (why would he ask Red Alert to accompany him, then?), then reforms it again (alibi). Then he forces a smile, and inclines his head in affirmation. "I imagine I should," he replies, tone pleasant enough, if a bit strained. Sam is here with the EDC, perhaps to assist setup and whatnot for any displays coming out of the EDC technical division. Consequently, he has the chance to wander the floor and takes the opportunity to do so. Just one human, nothing to see here.. Compton Xabat notices some young lady unrolling a poster, and mutters to his thugs, "Going to check out some of the other exhibits. Watch the place. Use the cards I gave you, like last year, if you're asked any questions." Walking over to Isolde, Xabat mutters, in as pleasant a voice he can muster, "Do you need any help, madame?" "No," Shockwave is saying to the tentacle, "the energy produced is in the form of gamma rays emitted from the end of each rod." "Hmmm," says the tentacle, wriggling. "I'm certainly in favor of gamma rays." (To distract Red from the real scheme. I mean what?) The doctor leads Red Alert through the throng of people, having to squeeze past in more than a few cases. "I'm getting flashbacks to the Olympics," he jokes. "This keeps up we're going to have to take the science fair /outside/." First Aid makes it to Shockwave's table. He leaves enough room for the tentacle. "Hello there," First Aid says to the Decepticon cyclops in a neutral tone. "What's this?" Red Alert forces faint, polite, and not particularly amused laughter at First Aid's joke as he follows the ambulance through the hall. He approaches Shockwave's display warily, and makes no attempt to hide the fact that he's sniffing the air as he gets close, nor does he hide his frown. Brushing back the shock of silvery-white among dark brunette of her head, Isolde finally jabs in pushpins along each corner and side of he poster, stepping back to nod at the layout of the poster titled 'Construction of a space-tolerant cyanobacteria for terraforming' and giving it a sharp nod. She's about to start texting on her personal phone when she catches sight of Xabat's cronies wandering her way. People coming over already? Drat, it wasn't the top of the hour yet, when she's supposed to be by her presentation. She gives a wide grin, genuinely excited at being able to present this information to others, and says, "Hi there, if you have any questions or you want me to give you a run down of the poster, let me know!" She steps back to let the man absorb the information presented. Dee-Kal follows along with her human EDC friend, still looking sun-bleached after two days in Maui (patented enamel resists fire rain and corrosion for up to 5 years, but apparently not U-V rays). While she's carrying a crate of things, they're not an exhibit. The last experiment she tried was converting Nebulan foodstuffs (the local fruit) into something humans could ingest without getting mercury poisoning. The result certainly didn't induce mercury poisoning, but did cause several hangovers. She looks for somewhere convenient to set the crate down. There's a commotion at the door as a couple bewildered security guards attempt to bar entry to a very large...well, skeleton...and his most...unorthodox display. It reads 'Physiology of a Cybertronian', and strapped to the table is a most unfortunate volunteer gumby; wheeling it in is none other than the Decepticon medic, Mortex, and clutched between his claw-like fingers is what appears to be a new-model four-door sedan. The Decepticon crouches, his red optics locking onto the security guards. "I assure you," his rusty, screechy voice wheezes, "My subject is a Decepticon volunteer, not coerced in any way. Or are you not willing to see the inner mysteries of the Cybertronian form?" There's an almost mocking edge to the voice as he continues wheeling the objects in, well aware that they really don't have any cause to bar him beyond general discomfort. Just the way he liked it. Sam by a gratuitous-but-necessary coincidence ends up right in front of Shockwave's exhibit at about the same time as First Aid and Red Alert. He slowly looks up at the big purple Decepticon. "Hrm." Red Alert frowns, letting the (obvious) focus of his attention move from Shockwave to the figure trying to force entry. He shifts and looks ready to dart off towards the trouble, should it prove to be genuine trouble. Chip Chase squints at one of the newcomers. "Wait, is that... Skeletor?" he asks, sounding more than a little unsure of himself. "You forgot your contacts again, huh?" Rachel asks. She looks at her clipboard and reports, "He registered as Mortex, a Decepticon. He's exhibit is supposed to be vehicle related." Chip Chase ahs and leans back, looking visibly relieved. "I always feel like I'm taking a huge risk inviting the Decepticons to this thing," he admits. "But then I remember that /not/ inviting them just increases the risks." "A chronal engine," replies Shockwave to First Aid, glancing up briefly at Mortex's commotion. "Or more accurately the chronal engine. It may resolve the issue of Earth." Compton Xabat looks the poster, nodding approvingly. "Hmm, interesting," he mutters. "A microbe engineered to terraform worlds. This could be very useful for the human race, indeed. I have sometimes, myself, considered engineering bacteria, though for completely..." His tone turns dark. "...different purposes." He smiles. "There's one little bug I'm working on that's developed an appetite for iron. Still, the little guy doesn't seem to quite like more..." Xabat glances at some of the Transformers. "...advanced alloys." First Aid doesn't seem to notice Red Alert's attention drifting away (this is why Red is the security chief and not First Aid). "A chronal what, sorry?" he asks, leaning in closer just in case he misheard. "What does it do?" he asks, figuring it has something to do with generating power. Red Alert's attention tends to drift all over the place on a regular basis, so it's not like it drifting right now would seem that odd. In fact, despite the fact that he's obviously looking towards Skeletor, what he says is, "'Resolve the issue of Earth'? Quite a few things that a good many of us would rather not see happen would 'resolve the issue of Earth.'" Dee-Kal carries her crate a little while longer, a handy pretext while watching Sam from a slight distance. Not so much to assure his safety, as to see how he handles being close to a 'giant scary robot' - and a Decepticon CO, at that. Could the exhibit be a trap..? she muses. She ponders. Maybe, but a trap would be an insult to his superior intellect. Curiosity wins out and she moves in closer to see what the exhibit does. As Isolde glances at the nametag on the well-suited exhibitor, she stiffens. "My -mom- works for the federal government in biodefense," she remarks dryly in a college-girl fit of pique, although that doesn't stop her from showing off in the next breath. "One? There's tons of bacteria that reduce iron and produce iron-chelating siderophores. Strep. Geobacter--" that would be one of the many species whose genes were inserted into the super-algae. "Which one are you working in?" From time to time, she darts her gaze over to the gaggle by Shockwave, and then... oh eww, what just came in the door? And what kind car was that Decepticon dragging in? Did it really matter? It was /just/ a sedan, after all... Shockwave explains, "Time control is a difficult science, fraught with paradox and danger. My forays into it have not been entirely successful, but even a partial success is highly educational. Revisiting the chronosphere project, it occurred to me that time control could be used for methods other than time alteration, or to say it in another way, it should be possible to alter time for goals other than travel. Although the mathematics of it would be beyond you, I can tell you that time is energy, albeit not in a form that is real in this dimension, and that that energy is accessable to one who is experienced in time control." Ms. Meissner keeps guessing, "Rhodoferax?" Sam frowns as he pores over Shockwave's posterboard. "Hrm. Time manipulation. Unwise." "We should probably start the presentations soon," Rachel tells Chip, who nods in agreement. "Alright, lets head on down there." Taking the elevator from the observation platform down to the main floor, the pair slowly make their way to the small stage in the centre of the observation deck. This is slow going due to how crowded it is and because everyone seems to recognize Chip and either ask him a question or shake his hand. First Aid taps his faceplate as he listens to Shockwave's explanation. "My word. Although - and you'll have to pardon me if this is out of line, but - would this really solve the problem of Earth? I mean granted with more energy than you know what to do with you'd have no reason to attack Earth, per se, but... well, would that actually stop the Decepticons?" Pile-Up leaves the Junkion Shuttle . Pile-Up skips into the room. Dee-Kal takes all that science jargon in, has a think. Then lifts a hand, like a student in class. "Master Shockwave?" (enjoy that bit while it lasts o_~ ) I am not well-smurfed in temporal physics... well-versed, but I have a question..?" Shockwave emits a tiny laser from his cannon arm (the hose that supplies it with weapons-grade power has been retracted into his back in accordance with the event bylaws) and uses it as a pointer to illustrate parts of his poster. "The chronal engine (for reasons that would not be clear to you, I have discovered via experimentation that there can only ever be a single chronal engine in a given reality at one time) gathers this energy, carried by massless pan-dimensional particles I call 'chronatrons,' from the past, and converts it via an acceptably efficient process into energy that is real in our dimension, specifically gamma rays." He listens to First Aid's objections. "I can only speak for myself. I am a rational intellect and Earth is of interest to me only for its exceedingly rich resources. The other Decepticons may have their own reasons for desiring control of Earth." Finally, having managed to explain to the guards - in very slow, condescending, and frankly simplistic phraseology - the Decepticon is able to wheel his multi-part display into the science fair, cranking the Gumby's table up-and-down and withdrawing one of his handheld omni-tools as he pops open the sedan's hood. He wheezes as he works, carefully cutting pieces of the sedan's internal workings open - and the lack of screaming really does qualify it as just an Earth car, fortunately - very very calmly, alternating work with his clean laser tool and his sharp, overly-long index claws, oblivious to whoever might be gawking. The gumby is still deactivated. Probably for the best. Compton Xabat raises a brow at the college girl. "To be honest, I've done a lot of splicing on it. Now, the germ is so far removed from its peers that it doesn't really have a name anymore. I just call it Germ M for now. You see, it's not enough for it to merely consume iron. It must do so extremely rapidly. Like, say, consuming a 10-pound lump of metal in less than an hour." Xabat smiles. "Then the next step is to get it to eat other metals. Titanium, tungsten... then finally, this." He pulls a little piece of metal out of his pocket. "This looks like ordinary metal, but it's actually a Cybertronian alloy. The bugs just don't want to eat it yet." Red Alert frowns, and finally turns to look directly at Shockwave again, apparently (temporarily) satisfied that Mortex is not /that/ much of a danger at this exact moment. "Wouldn't stealing energy from the past leave us without a past, and therefore no present, and less future?" Giant Bat is late. Truth be told, it took a copious amount of nagging on Vorath's part to even get Mindwipe out here. Mindwipe doesn't really care about a /science/ fair, though he did slap together an exhibit at the last minute - he'll needs to set it up later. Vorath, however, as ex-Minister of Science of Nebulos, simply could not pass up this event. Vorath wears his armour and gives the various exhibits a critical look, pretending like he doesn't know Mindwipe. Red Alert looks away from Shockwave and turns to stare across the fair. From here, there are objects between him and the what caught his attention, and so others would be hard-pressed to figure out that he was staring in Compton Xabat's direction, but he is, even if he can't see the human at the moment. He certainly can hear him, however. Dee-Kal recalls a news item once which suggested that if Man manipulated tie tides of Earth on a vast scale, how the cumulative effect of so many projects could theoretically slow the Earth's rotation. Or something like that. She wonders if harvesting from time might not affect the temporal stream, and cause disruptions... "That depends on one's perspective," Shockwave replies cryptically to First Aid, pointing at Dee-Kal with his laser pointer arm. "The Junkion." Sam's brow creases as he runs out of material to read. He looks around for a more detailed pamphlet. Finding nothing more substantial, he frowns some more, then clears his throat. "Research data is not available?" "That depends on one's perspective," Shockwave replies cryptically to Red Alert, pointing at Dee-Kal with his laser pointer arm. "The Junkion." "Honestly I think it'd just hasten their desire take-over the galaxy," First Aid says. "No offense intended, mind you. Thanks for the lowdown on this." The Protectobot looks over at Red, "I'm going to check out what Mortex brought, Red." He lets Red debate temporal theory with Shockwave, which is mostly beyond First Aid. All he knows is that whenever time travel gets involved, continuity errors cannot be far behind. The Protectobot arrives at Mortex's exhibit. "You don't mind if I take a little look, do you?" he asks. It is natural to assume that this car is actually a Cybertronian, what with the exhibit name and all, but First Aid doesn't see any insignias on it, and Transformer Law says everything must have one, lest they lose their Trademark to the Gobots. Isolde frowns deeply at Xabat as the criminal describes his intent, her own work forgotten for the moment. She will be called to describe it in detail soon enough. "Gene splicin' ain't no thing, my fish at home glow," she says with a sassy drawl, before continuing more seriously. "So... what by-products do you get from these reactions, then? And what metals have you found on the mass spectrophotometer analyses of that stuff, mm?" A smile returns to those round apple cheeks and dimpled chin as she tries to goad him into revealing more of his own work. Red Alert occasionally hides or paints over his insignia, but he still has his rub sign. Giant Bat goes to look at the quackiest exhibits, loping about awkwadly on all fours. Hmm, foil hats serve as protection from psychic attack? Very interesting! Vorath, meanwhile, goes to stand at the back of the crowd gathered to listen to Shockwave's talk. He stands on his tip toes and still can't get a good view. Vorath scowls and bears the inconvenience - it's annoying to be like a toy among giants. Mortex looks up and wheezes at First Aid, having collected some very non-cybertronian internal workings from the car. "Of course not," he replies, "The more, the merrier." His second omni-tool slides out of his arm, and he places it against the gumby's stomach, digging it open and removing the plate to reveal the various internal systems of the poor Decepticon volunteer. His head, meanwhile, rotates around to face First Aid, taking on a rather calm, cool, professoresque air. "We all know," he begins leisurely, offset only by his own voice's timber, "That Cybertronians only superficially resemble Earth vehicles. Mechanically, internally, we are uniquely different and unusual - our 'vehicle' modes resemble their slowlife only ironically." "Before we take on Earth modes," he adds idly. "What I have here is a typical Decepticon soldier. A seeker of the Tetrajet variety. And these parts are from an Earth vehicle, an automobile known as a sedan. I intend to see if a Decepticon, Autobot, or other Cybertronian can survive if all of their cybertronian vitals are replaced with the internal mechanics of an earth vehicle." His sunken red optics take on a bit of an eerie gleam. "Would you care to watch?" Members of channel are: Boomslang, Catechism, Crash, Dee-Kal, Excise, Fielder, First Aid, Hardstrike, LSD, Pile-Up, Red Alert Dee-Kal assumes Shockwave is expecting her question, and voices the thoughts from her earlier pose. "..not that I suppose you have not thought of that... err, sir..." she adds, somewhat humbly. 'Septic' or not, he's the authority, here. First Aid looks over at the Decepticon gumby with an analytical optic. "Naturally," he says regarding Transformers only looking like cars, jets, and 1980's micro-cassette players. "Though I'd argue against the idea of our Cybertronian modes being /that/ different than our Earth-ones. In a lot of cases the changes are superficial, 'slowlife' or not." As Mortex explains what he's going to do, First Aid immediately asks one question. "Is this mech alright with being used like this?" "He is a volunteer," Mortex wheezes in agreement. Red Alert looks away from Xabat and back towards Shockwave for the moment, then his optics dart towards Dee-kal, as Shockwave has the laser pointer directed towards her. He sniffs, then glances down at Vorath, before looking back up at Shockwave, to see if he has more to add (or a reason for saying 'The Junkion'). Compton Xabat frowns. "They crap out this reddish, oxidized lump. Smells terrible. Oh, and this stuff?" He looks at the bar of Cybertronian alloy. "Seems to be a fairly standard metal, with bits of aluminum, tungsten, and titanium, for the most part, but there's another element I haven't identified, and I suspect it is the root of its considerable strength. I've always believed there were unknown substances out there in space, waiting to be discovered, and this may be one of them. And just think--Cybertron could have a motherlode of this alloy, all throughout the very structure of the planet, just waiting to be harvested!" "Your concern is noted," says Shockwave, sounding very much as if he was addressing the dissenters on the Manhattan Project who were concerned that the atom bomb might ignite the atmosphere and burn all of the air off of the Earth. "Red Alert voiced a similar concern. Since I constructed the chronal engine, it exists now and for an indeterminate amount of time into the future. There is some controversy in the time control field as to whether the future is truly mutable, ineffectually mutable, or fixed. For example, in our time stream, was I always going to create the chronal engine, or was there a chance that I might not? Having done so, are the consequences of my action inevitable? Would destroying it now prevent it from existing in the future, or would it simply cause it to come into being by another means? The answers to these questions remain the subject of intense debate in the Journal of Applied Temporal Engineering, but one could argue (and this is the theory I subscribe to at this time) that if the chronal engine damaged the past in a detectible way, we would detect that damage already, because the chronal engine of the future would already have damaged the present in the same way." Shockwave redirects his laser pointer towards Sam. "The Earthman." You say, "I'd like to hear it from him, free of any coersion." "Very well," the skeleton replies, flipping the Decepticon seeker's systems on. The eyes open slowly, staring at First Aid. "Are we done?" The gumby asks. "No," Mortex answers idly, "I haven't even begun." His head shifts back to stare at First Aid. "Would you like to question him further, or may I begin, oh illustrious Autobot?" Again there's that hint of mockery. Vorath looks up at Red Alert innocently. What? He's just a Nebulan in an armour suit who happened to arrive with Mindwipe. The medical and biological sciences were always more Vorath's forte, but Shockwave's chronal engine is cetainly interesting. If there is one fixed future, that means that there is such a thing as fate... that he has no control over his actions, and worse, that Mindwipe is right. Speaking of Mindwipe, the bat decides to watch Mortex's show. Mindwipe, personally, knows a bit about using odd, alien parts as a substitute for normal Cybertronian parts. Look at his head! He says nothing in greeting and is silent as he watches, staring at a point over the gumby's shoulder. Shifting weight so her slim shoulders are blocking the section of her poster that discusses the integration of Geobacter into her own project, Isolde mm-hmms some. "Well, most of those machines can detect anything heavier than beryllium. I wonder if the mixing of metals is just so fine that it evades detection from the machine, since it tends to visualize individual cells of metal within alloys. And... what would you use it for? I'm pretty sure that the galaxy's equivalent of the UN would declare any settled planet off-limits to unfettered exploitation." Of course, she should consider to whom she was speaking -- rules didn't exactly stop this man. Isolde Meissner blushes a bit, and diverts her gaze over to the macabre exposition a few rows down. First Aid doesn't seem to mind the mocking tone, as he makes no mention of it. Nor does he appear to be annoyed. "Hello there, this is First Aid, Autobot doctor," he introduces himself to the Seeker. "May I ask why you agreed to this?" Shockwave adds, as an aside, "Of course, it is also possible that the chronal engine of the future already has damaged our reality, and all of the past, but since it had always been so due to it having always been going to do so, we are unaware of it since we have no outside frame of reference. Language is, as you have no doubt guessed, not entirely suitable to discussing this topic. The principles would be more easily described via scientific notation or better, radiotelepathy." Most people who do have radios attached to their brains are smart enough not to let Shockwave get intimate access to them, however. "He promised me a free upgrade if I live." The Seeker replies. "I'm getting a laser cannon in my chest. Gonna make a name for myself. Soon everybody'll know my name!" Red Alert's optics widen as Shockwave states that he's already built the blasted thing, and he puts, 'finding out where it is and having it destroyed' on his mental to-do list. He steps away carefully, avoiding accidently stepping on the Nebulan (and no, Red Alert is not fooled by that innocent act, Vorath). He then suddenly darts to another area of the room, to investigate a somewhat unrelated exhibit. Then he shrugs, and, slower, makes his way towards Mortex, although he's really more listening to Xabat. Radiotelepathy? Oh, bother, thinks Vorath. Now Mindwipe is interested. However, rather than actually leaving Mortex's demonstration to question Shockwave himself, Mindwipe leaves it to Vorath to pose the embarassingly off-topic question. Grumbling to himself, Vorath raises his hand. "Ok, thank you," First Aid replies to the Seeker. He stands up and is about to nod to Mortex, but then stops. "Oh, sorry, what was your name, anyhow?" he asks, figuring he ought to remember it now. Once he gets the name he nods to Mortex, "I never imagined you to be so thoughtful to your fellow mech. You know, for a Decepticon you're a pretty big softy." Compton Xabat smiles. "What would I use it for? Why, anything. Buildings, space vessels, military vehicles... Oh, and you're quite right, we can't settle an *inhabited* planet, can we?" He grins smugly. "Of course, history is full of incidences where an indigenous race was forcefully expelled from its beloved homeland by a superior force, so who's to say it can't happen again?" He watches as Mortex preps his unfortunate volunteer, sneering a bit. "Enh. But, look at them. Demented robotic freaks. We'd be doing their planet a favor by expunging them from it. Well. Going to take a closer look at what he's up to." He begins to walk away lightly. "Good luck with your exhibit, my dear, I'm sure you'll do fine." Shockwave decides Sam is probably still reading the poster and directs his pointer to Vorath. "The cyborg." "Well, uh...I don't have one yet," The Seeker replies. "But I will!" Mortex flips off the Seeker before he starts singing 'fame', staring into First Aid's optics. "I hate wasting resources," he replies blaisely before his fingers delicately sink into the Seeker's body, removing his laser core and setting it gently on the table. It was important that it wasn't at risk, or the Seeker might go from individual to zombie. Calmly, he begins replacing the parts. A fuel drive is swapped for a piston engine. A muffler replaced the silencers in the gumby's legs. So on, so forth, with naught but wheezes from his own exhaust system, the disturbing doctor does his work. Sam already asked his question, and has currently taken to trying to examine the prototype device directly. Shockwave replies briefly to Sam, "It is important that no one attempt to replicate the chronal engine. For this reason I have brought only this early prototype from a non-functional stage of development. I mentioned that there can only be one chronal engine in the universe at any given time. My theoretical calculations predict that the results of activating a second one would be best described as 'apocalyptic.'" He directs his pointer to Vorath. "The cyborg." Vorath is a cyborg now, he supposes, his joints ripped out and replaced with reinforcements and a small subspace generator implanted in the vicinity of his appendix. It's a bit jarring to be addressed as much, however. He inquires, "How would radiotelepathy even help with explaining the intricacies of a chronal engine? Language is always the inherent limiting factor, not the medium thereof. You might be able to converse in pure assembly language at a much higher bandwidth than vocal communication, but you would still be limited by the inability of strings to properly express the concepts." Dee-Kal sets down her crate and hovers nearby. "Sam-u-el..." she murmurs, slightly worried. "That prototype... if it could be turned on... is *temporal*..." Vorath should be flattered. Insofar as Shockwave believes that machine life is superior to organic life, he's paying the Nebulan a compliment by calling him halfbreed. "You are, in general, correct. But there are some, more abstract, images impressions and concepts which are not well described by any language but which can be better expressed via a collection of associative images, sounds, odors and recalled memories transmitted to the recipient so that they can experience the recorded sensations." Shockwave admits, "Of course the associations that such subjective matter evokes will differ from individual to individual, making radiotelepathy imprecise mathematically, but effective at communicating concepts which are by their nature uncertain. You flesh-creatures use such communicative methodology as 'poetry' and 'song' and 'art' to attempt similar transmissions of abstract data." Compton Xabat scowls at Mortex's exhibit disapprovingly for a moment. "Hmph. Machines. No regard for your own kind," he sneers before he joins the gaggle by Shockwave. He rubs his chin and looks like he wants to ask a question. The exchange between First Aid and Mortex isn't lost upon Isolde, and Xabat's timing and delivery couldn't be more perfect. One set of robots jabbering away about temporal physics that could destroy entire timestreams, the others performing street surgery for entertainment. Once Xabat leaves, she ducks her head down to begin texting her parents. The carrier charges all the way back to Earth to their sailboat in Monterey Baywere going to be killer, but this just couldn't wait. Vorath tries to forget that he is half Machine, on the contrary. He rubs his chin and muses, "I suppose, with the correct recording set-up, you could transfer the experience of being there and performing the actual experimentation - literally put the other man in your, ah, boots, but it is not a perfect compensation for linguistic failings." He snorts as Shockwave makes a blanket statement about flesh-creatures. Yes, and all machines are cold and rational. Not. Vorath could only wish. Once Xabat settles on Shockwave's display, Red Alert steps away from Mortex's and heads, indirectly but eventually, towards Isolde's. As she begins texting, however, he stands back respectfully. He /may/ not even be trying to listen in on the cell's transmitted signals (no guarentees there, however). Mortex looks up at Compton's reply with a very, very calm air, correcting him only slightly. "I have no regard for your kind, either." With that, he goes back to his work, lecturing on how very similar various body parts are to various car parts and how theoretically they should allow the Seeker to continue to function even after, well, having his entire body replaced with car parts despite the differences between jets and automobiles. Chip and his aide finally make it to the centre stage. The billionaire takes down a mic and taps it a few times. "Hello everyone," he says, barely audible over the chattering of everyone else on the observation deck. But with this sign, slowly but surely the talking quiets down and all that is left is a few hushed conversations. "I'd like to welcome everyone to the second Space Science Fair. I'm hoping we can do this sort of thing all the time, and with your support I know we can. Before we begin with our presentations I'd just like to thank our major sponsors for the fair. Microsoft's X-Box, Mountain Dew, and Blackrock Industries have been a huge help financing this event, and deserve a round of applause." Applause! Applause! Applause! "Our first presentis Isolde... I'm sorry in advance if I mess up the pronounciation, I'm really horrible at getting last names rights. Isolde Meissner's exhibit is Construction of a space-tolerant cyanobacteria for terraforming'. Everyone please give Isolde a warm welcome." There's another round of applause, and attention is focused on Isolde's booth. Shockwave concurs, "Reproduction of experience is not a replacement for conventional communication, but an augment to it." His head swivels 180 to look back over his display at Chip. "Excuse me. The human with wheels is making his announcement." Sam takes a moment to frown as Xabat slips into the group. He moves a bit away from the front of the exhibit and turns his attention toward Chip, now that the announcing has begun. Red Alert might get something like this: 'Ha ha shit u will never believe it, THE Xabat came to my poster!!1 I didn't tell him about the Geobacter and what it did to the lab *kiss kiss* I crashed thecar btw. Sry. GTG!' Compton Xabat hrms, his questions will have to wait. He turns and applauds the college girl politely. Teeheehee, she must think he's so smart. Maybe she'll let him take her out to a movie, and the who knows what might happen? ...God, he's lonely. :(Red Alert claps politely as Isolde is announced, a faint smile on his expression, one that doesn't even slip as he overhears... something. Shockwave can't clap. ._. First Aid raises an optical ridge at the Seeker's reply. No name? Are Decepticons getting lazier over time? He wonders how this Seeker has functioned for so long without a name. The Protectobot watches the operation proceed, and can't help but feel the need to act as an overseer for the surgery, just in case Mortex screws it up. Honestly though First Aid isn't sure what he'd do if the Decepticon's life was put into serious danger. On one hand, he's a Decepticon who needs fighting. On the other hand, any loss of life, especially in a peaceful situation, is a terrible thing. Hopefully they won't have to cross that. As Chip's announcement begins, First Aid looks over in that direction. "Maybe you should wait to finish up for your actual presentation," he whispers to Mortex. Shockwave does however emit the sound of applause from the speaker in his chest that normally produces his voice. Mortex does in fact stop, tilting his head up to clap idly at the announcement. The half-finished Decepticon would just have to suffer. This was -interesting-. Pile-Up skips into the room. Pile-Up drops Exhibit - Pile-Up's. Vorath claps for Isolde sincerely enough. Cyanobacteria? Wonderful little things, those. Isolde stashes the phone and then scrambles up to the podium, giving a quick bob to the announcer. "Thank you, Chip, it's really been stunning to see all the amazing work that has been presented here. Physics, mathematics, mechanics... I'm going to launch into something a bit more biological, though." She turns, and begins to go through several Powerpoint 2030 slides. "Recently, with the help of the Earth Defense Command, humanity has been taking great strides into the local star systems. In order to maintain any sort of long term presence, however, it is necessary to move off our colony ships and onto planets that can support life. Those of you familiar with Drake Equation know how likely THAT is going to be," she says with a light laugh, before launching into the meat of her presentation. "So, what better way to help it along than with terraforming? I'm going to describe the different bacterial systems we used to make this possible." With a crispy shrivelled hull of a planet that could be either Charr or mars in the background, she GLARES DOWN a few 'Science playing GOD' postersigns in the few front rows. A LUSH green pool that looks a lot like the artificial stream that runs through the CDC grounds, complete with '<-- Mom's workplace' label, pops up. "I used the cyanobacteria Nostoc as the backbone for this system. Nostoc is common in both aquatic and terrestrial habitats and readily combines in symbiotic association with fungi or other plant life. The genus can lie dormant for long periods of time and then recover metabolic activity when rehydrated. Because Nostoc can withstand freezing and thawing cycles, it is well-adapted to extreme environments. Next, I'll talk about the species we used to make this thing go the distance!" She quickly looks over the audience to gauge their continued interest. Pile-Up drops Korn-Wall. Pile-Up wanders into the observatory, the Battlescrap Galactica floating above like an ominous junkheap of DOOM. Mini-Junks following in tow, and his handy assistant 8-Trak Korn-Wall helping lug out the display setting, which at the moment is folded up on itself, with a massive, candy red, button on the side... Shockwave turns the rest of his body to more comfortably listen to the presentation. Biology has always been the weak point in his otherwise comprehensive education. Red Alert is mostly watching Isolde, but it's difficult to really judge his interest, as he periodically glances about the room, or frowns sternly in the direction as people not paying him any attention (and sometimes half the room, or more, away). Still, he keeps looking /back/ at Isolde, which may indicate interest. Probably. Mortex similarly pays a fair bit of attention, now sitting atop the sedan as a makeshift bench. Compton Xabat notices the protesters in the front row, frowning. God, he hates those people so much. He begins texting his thugs and instructs some of them to "talk to" the unruly gits once the fair has ended. And by "talk to," he really means, "beat the crap out of." Having accomplished one good deed for the day, he resumes watching the exhibit, smiling and nodding encouragingly. Chip Chase is clearly interested in what Ms. Meissner has to say. Any human ought to be, as this sort of thing is the way of the future if humanity's young steps out into the wilderness. Chip laments the fact that much of this will be after his time. Well unless one of the other presenters is going to demonstrate an immortality technique, anyway, he thinks with mild amusement. Biology is of course way outside Chip's area of expertise, but Isolde manages to break it down into simple enough terms. First Aid is in similar shoes, though terraforming worlds is of less importance to him personally. He is still facinated by it, though, as for the vast majority of his life biology was a nearly completely unimportant part of his world. Dee-Kal lifts her crate, takes it closer to the stage, and sets it down to sit on, listening with interest. Not losing too many far, phew! Isolde continues, glancing warily at Compton Xabat over this next piece: "I integrated operons from Geobacter metallireducens for several reasons. Geobacter has the ability to directly transfer electrons to the surface of electrodes. It has an unusual survival tactic for life in and on rock: It uses a sensor to 'sniff out' metals, meaning that the colonies would be able to migrate as they reduce the available metal in their area to generate electricity. This had led to the construction of microbial fuel cells, making it possible to harvest electricity from many types of waste organic matter or renewable biomass. Immediate application of these microbial fuel cells will be for powering electronic monitoring devices in remote terraforming locations. Water cannot exist in liquid state in many of the atmospheres in which this organism would be used. To that end, I also tacked on a glycerol based metabolism found in Pseudomonas aeruginosa. "Also, intense radiation in many of these habitats would cause deadly mutations from the ultraviolet light dimerization of thymine, so I also integrated the cell wall structure of Deinococcus radiodurans into the cyanobacteria. It has four copies of its genome, the redundancy ensuring that a working copy of any given gene will be present. While a dose of 10 Gy of ionizing radiation is sufficient to kill a human, Deinococcus is capable of withstanding an instantaneous dose of up to 5,000 Gy with no loss of viability, and an instantaneous dose of up to 15,000 Gy with 37% viability. "Now, this is a LOT of extra DNA in a bacteria that may not necessarily need or even want the information at any one sitting. To keep the cells from reverting back to their native form, the main chromosome has been fitted with a toxin-producing gene. The accessory chromosome with all the additional DNA from the other bacteria produces an anti-toxin. The anti-toxin has a shorter half-life than the toxin, requiring the bacteria to maintain both sets of DNA. In summary, I've managed to put together a lot of different systems into a single, integrated, and more importantly sustaining genome. We've already started some initial screening assays with cooperation from the fine folks at McMurdo Base in Antarctica. The results have been good so far, and I'll be happy to talk about them more if desired. Are there any questions so far?" "How long do you estimate one would have to wait for this bacterium to produce sufficient oxygen for humans to survive on an otherwise-Earthlike planet with a deoxygenated atmosphere?" asks Shockwave, raising his hand. Vorath follows along Isolde's talk, actually withdrawing a tiny (to the robots - normal-sized to him) datapad to take notes. He raises his hand, squinting to see if perhaps he missed something here. She mentioned a toxin but didn't get into specifics - surely, not a toxin that would actually endanger humans, crops, or livestock? Red Alert frowns, and turns his /full/ attention on Isolde as the Geobacter gets metnioned. His listens carefully at what she has to say, doing his best to translate it internally, and tilts his head, optics narrowed. He doesn't ask any questions, however, mostly because any questions he'd want to ask, he wouldn't want Xabat to overhear. Sam unfortunately knows next to nothing about microbiwhosits and just scratches the back of his head as he listens. This is where Isolde loses Chip Chase in terms of science. Geobact-what? Operwho? Meta...something? Midi-chlorians? Is this bacteria Jedi? Biological words notwithstanding, Chip Chase gets the gist of... some of it. The alien audience is in various stages of confusion, but a few understand all of this perfectly. Presumably these are the biologists from their own worlds. Chip Chase raises a hand as Isolde asks if there's any questions. Once called upon, he asks, "Speaking in practical terms, what sort of timeframe are we talking about until such a thing would be ready on, say, Mars, or the moon? As I figure sites within our own solar system would be our first target, has there been any investigation into the requirements specific for that planet?" Any non-Transformers who want to ask questions will meanwhile get a mic handed to them from Chip's aide, Rachel. Pile-Up says, "Does it come with graaaaaavy?" Gears is there, frowning as he listens. He only gets about half of what they're talking about. (Oh great, doomsday bacteria, I bet,)Oo he thinks. Korn-Wall pipes up "It comes to you in barrels if you order it by post!" Compton Xabat raises his hand. "You... said this bacteria consumes metal in order to generate electricity, or did I misunderstand?" Sounds reminiscent of his own, less benign pet project. Red Alert hisses, frowning sharply as Xabat asks his question. Both Shockwave and Chip ask the same question. "The rate of oxygenation depends on many factors. Humans require at least a 19% oxygen atmosphere, closer to 21% preferably. The starting conditions will determine a lot of the conversion rate. Factors such as the ambient radiation levels, the temperature extremes, the density of cyanobacterial seeding, the availability of metals, all of those will affect that. We've seen about... three weeks to a month and a half in the tests we've done so far in Antartica, since it's cold and exposed to the ozone hole. For a completely denuded planet, approximatley a half year to three years. You also have to consider how well that planet or moon would be able to retain any atmosphere as it is generated." She waves to the black and red armored humanoid (Vorath). "Did you have a question?" As Xabat asks, Isolde frowns a bit, and then parrots her mom, "Dual use research regulations prevent me from divulging too many details, but a search of commonly available literature will show you that yes, Geobacter does reduce metal to produce electricity. It's been used to recover uranium from water, and electricity transfer from wholly organic compounds, like graphite, has been documented." She clenches her jaw a bit, initial tension starting to ramp up in response to Red Alert's own anxious body language. "WAIT! EVERYONE, WAIT!" Everyone's favorite Dinobot pushes through the doors. No, it's not Grimlock. ..Not Sludge, either. It's Swoop! Swoop for God's sake! And in his arms is a large...well, it's a large something. It's covered by a flowery bed sheet for MYSTERY and SUSPENSE. "Me Swoop am here for science thing! Not too late, right? RIGHT?" Mortex considers this information for a moment. Potentially, anything that could be used as a weapon against one form of life...well, it really was reminding him quite a bit of his bioelectric fuel system. It was lucky that the Autobots didn't know about that yet. He looks up at the Dinobot's entry, nonplussed. Compton Xabat starts with, "Oh, but surely a few more little details wouldn't--" Then, Swoop interrupts his train of thought! "Ehm, what?" Isolde closes her jaw, and takes advantage of the interruption. "Yes! Come on down, Swoop!!" She flicks the presentation off, and snatches the flash drive off the holo-projector. Hardstrike tromps in after Swoop, and winces slightly at the Dinobot's loud entrance. He's never been particularly savvy with technology or science, but even the tank 'bot knows when to keep his mouth shut. There is a slight wince, a shrug of apology to his comrades and the EDC, before the Autobot shuffles over to an empty seat scaled for his size category. Red Alert smiles faintly as Isolde references duel use regulations, and that smile turns into an out and out grin as Isolde welcomes in Swoop. He attempts to catch the human's eye and give her a quick smile and a nod. Clever organic, this one. Vorath steeples his fingers - something he does rather a lot, and he inquires, "Could you go into the nature of the actual toxin used? I would assume you would select something with no overlap with humans," as if he wasn't one, and he isn't, "and key crops and livestock? Or do you intend to later remove your Geobacter from the environment, when they have run their course?" which he suspects would be rather difficult. His helmeted head whips around, and he scowls at the noisy Dinobot. Swoop grins the stupidest grin. It's endearing, really. And by endearing, I mean retarded. "Yes! Me knew me come just in time! Have best science-thing ever!" He tromps over to an empty table (or it will be once he pushes everything off of it) and plops his sheeted mystery down. "Me work all day on this." Exhibit - Compton Xabat's This exhibit appears to be the cross section of some sort of a house. Looks like it would be a nice place to live, but there's something off about some of the appliances in the home. They look much sleeker than normal appliances, and seem to have unnecessary seams across them. Parked in front of the house is a car of unknown make, also with numerous seams across its body. Hm. Something's fishy here. Red Alert sniffs the air, then sighs and covers his optics with the palm of his right hand. Chip Chase's phrasing was better because he isn't a freak with only one hand. He takes it as a 'no' regarding whether Mars or the moon itself has been specifically studied. There's a murmur that goes around when the half year to three year quote is tossed out. Chip looks impressed, as it means it might still be within his lifetime! As the Dinobot bursts in, Chip can't help but smile despite himself. "Hello Swoop. Everyone, this is Swoop of the Autobots. You're not too late," he confirms what the others said. "Up next we have Compton Xabat from Earth. I didn't catch the name but I'll let Mr. Xabat explain it." Compton Xabat gets only a light round of applause. Apparently his fame is growing! First Aid for one does not clap. Dee-Kal claps along, lightly. It seems to be the thing to do, personal differences aside. Shockwave emits a short burst of canned applause. The answer to Vorath's question is one that doesn't involve anything resembling bioterrorism. Isolde wouldn't have to worry about getting her skinny butt whipped by her mom! She perches atop a bar stool, a faintly grateful expression cast in Red Alert's direction. She once again brushes aside that silvery-white lock of hair. Glancing over her shoulder as Xabat takes the stage, she ahems, and cheerfully dashes Vorath's hopes, her attitude a bit more casual now that she's not formally presenting. "Well, the toxin antitoxin systems are usually two different proteins. The name refers to the fact that it is toxic to the bacteria itself. Usually they inhibit DNA replication, or translation. That's like..." she shrugs a bit, "Antibiotics. Sulfa drugs, aminoglycosides, things like that." Most of the clapping was from his thugs. The protestors who harassed Isolde start to get into position, but a glare from Xabat sends them scurrying. Apparently they're not too keen on protesting a man that could have them killed! Stepping before his exhibit, he says, "Ladies, gentlemen, and... other entities, it has occurred to me that we, in our modern times, are having trouble controlling our machines. Yes, these days, they run about freely through the galaxy, smashing and stomping everything in their path, using advanced, multi-form technology that's far beyond the comprehension of we mere humans. Or..." He smirks. "*Is it?*" He steps up into the living room of the fake house, and holds up a remote. "Thanks to *my* technology, transforming machines are placed back in the role in which they belong--serving *humans.* Observe as everday appliances convert before your very eyes into helpful assistants, rather than destructive brutes. Have trouble moving your refrigerator upstairs? No problem--it can do that itself!" He presses a button, and a refrigerator suddenly stands up on two short little feet, and also sprouts two little arms. It begins to trudge its way up the steps to the second floor. Xabat presses another button, and a tower fan suddenly turns into a little robot about half his size. "Robot," Xabat says, addressing the fanbot, "Could you mop the floor for me? Oh, and don't forget to set the air conditioner to medium at about 5:55pm." "YES MASTER," the fanbot says. Xabat rewards it with a pat on the head, smirking. "Goood boy." He turns to the audience. "That's not all." Dee-Kal wonders what Tailgate would have to say to that... "So you made a glorified janitorial bot. Whoop de' frickin' doo." Hardstrike says, a bit too loudly, arms crossed about his chest. Pile-Up cassualy begins raising his Junkzooka at Xabat's presentation, a gaggle of Mini-Junks hauling his arm back down. Vorath is totally on that page, Xabat. Stick it to the Machines! He claps loudly! Then, Mindwipe lopes over and hunkers down next to Vorath, his batty optics gleaming wickedly, and Vorath crosses his arms, sulking. First Aid audibly groans as Compton begins explaining about how evil machines are. He remembers the Militants quite vividly, and though Compton might not be as overtly dangerous as they were, he's about a million times more annoying and persistant. There's other groans in the crowd as well. Sure most people don't like Transformers all that much either, but most know a few decent robots out there. Why, most even have a token robot friend so they won't be known as racist! Chip frowns and shakes his head, "Of course I don't see how Transformers could be put 'back' in the role of serving humans since they were never there to begin with." Being slaves for the Quintessons doesn't count. People hate the Quints even more than they dislike the Transformers. Ethical concerns aside, the robot does look pretty darn advanced for civilian human technology. Mortex laughs. It's a horrible, high, cold, and utterly shriek-worthy sound, like a pair of rusty gears grinding against each other and simply refusing their own company. The laughter spikes as the thing replies like something out of a bad horror movie, and he covers his skeletal jaws with his hand ineffectively, not really -trying- to stem the laughter. Exactly what he's laughing at is uncertain, and judging by the expressionlessness of his face, it's not likely it's going to be known until he actually asks a question. Red Alert turns his head, observing the interaction between Vorath and Mindwipe without comment, then he turns to study Xabat's display. Despite his rather offensive choice of language, it doesn't look like any portion of the display actually appears dangerous. Red Alert approaches Chip Chase, crouches down, and leans forward, asking very quietly for permission to inspect Xabat's display before the terrorist leaves. Compton Xabat walks over to the car in his exhibit, now, ignoring Hardstrike's heckling for the moment. "So you'll have a cadre of useful *servants* in your home, but what about on the road? Well, thankfully, wherever you drive, you'll have more at your disposal." He presses a button on his remote again, and the car splits up into four parts. Two of them convert into humanoid robots, and the other two change into four-legged robots. "Imagine: They could take your luggage up for you to your hotel room, and you wouldn't have to worry about your car getting stolen anymore because they can enter your living space as easily as you can! And, they are completely loyal to their owners. They would never turn on them, but just in case, they all have remote shutdown capability." He smiles. "Any questions?" Hardstrike raises his hand. Swoop raises his hand. A tentacled alien raises her hand. "Is the robot sentient?" she asks as Rachel gives her the mic. Ha ha, too slow Swoop. Mortex raises his overly-long index finger, still attempting to contain his horrible laughter. Compton Xabat glances at the tentacle. "Sort of, but it is not sapient. It's barely more intelligent than a dog, and it has no ambition other than to serve." He points at Hardstrike. "You." Taking a glass of water and plucking nervously at the hem of her slacks, Isolde sips as she looks expectantly toward Swoop. "So, tell us more about what you've made, Swoop," she says indulgently. To Xabat, she challenges without raising her hand, "Nice car orgy, but how does it do on the highway? I mean, how well would it hold up going head to head with a German-engineered roadster loaded with a 3.0 liter straight six? Just askin'." Shockwave's eye flickers, indicating that he's accessing external data storage. Probably composing his presentation, as Xabat's presentation isn't of value to him. He's already got drones, after all. Pile-Up raises his hand, but doesn't wait to be called on. "So when did you realise your peepee was all bitty and had to make up for it by pickin' on us?" he looks down at Korn-Wall "Whyz his head so beeg? WHY is his head SO BIIIIIG!?" Hardstrike stands, and takes the mic from Rachel. "So, uh, about these little helpers. We have these already. Blaster, Soundwave, and some Junkion mech make them. Don't you humans have some sort of law saying you can't steal ideas for money? Cuz', this sounds like them." Hardstrike thinks for a moment, "Only theirs are better, because they make them smart. We've been making drones for a few million now." Another pause. "I think this is the part where we sue you." If Swindle was here he would totally do that. He's got a license to practice law in Maryland! Compton Xabat remarks to Isolde, "The car meets all US safety guidelines. So, it'll hold up to a collision about as well as most cars would." The terrorist just chuckles at Hardstrike. "Oh, my helpers are better, because they don't make a pathetic attempt at pretending to be people. They are what they are. Machines that serve. Anything more than that is..." He sneers. "A waste." Xabat noticeably ignores the Junkion as he points at Swoop. "You." Giant Bat doesn't have a question, but he does have a comment, completely out of turn, "Any complex enough system tends, inevitably, toward chaos. I look forward to seeing your children devour you, as it always is." Vorath, on the other hand, does ask, "You say they are completely loyal to their owners. Are hey loyal enough to prevent an owner from suicide? Are they loyal enough to break the law for their owners? To kill? What if one owner asks his car to kill the repo man sent to take it away, when he can no longer make the payments? How do they understand change of ownership?" "Yeah, totally sueing." Hardstrike says, sitting down. Dee-Kal blinks at the reactions, mildly puzzled. She asides as well as she can to Sam. "I do not like Xabat-sama, but why is everyone reacting to his suggestion negatively..?" Sam shrugs at Dee-Kal. "Perhaps expecting negative consequence." Pile-Up and Korn-Wall begin beatboxing and singing to eachother. "I don' understand! Why are you being so mean? You're a (yo!) mean mean man!" "You're just jealous of me 'cause you, you just can't do what I -do-. So instead of just admitting it you walk around and SAY all kinds of really mean things about me, 'cause your a meanie, ah meanie." Korn-Wall then picks up. "But that's only 'cause you're really just jealous of me, 'cause I'm what you wanna be. So you just look like an idiot, when you say these mean things 'cause its so easy to see you're a weenie, big weenie!" Dee-Kal rubs at her nose. "If you created me or became my guardian, I would obey you willingly. You would be... my father, ne?" Compton Xabat shrugs at Mindwipe. "They do what their owner instructs. They are not programmed to kill, break the law, or what-have-you. They are simple-minded, much like pets. The possibility of defiance is slim at best. And..." He crinkles his nose as the Junkions begin heckling him again. "Ugh, could we get someone in here to put the trash where it belongs?" A junkion grabs his crotch plate "Trash this!" a whoop of Ewok battle cries rises up. "Gladly." Hardstrike stands, and takes a step towards Xabat. Another Autobot shakes his head and frowns, causing Hardstrike to grumble and sit back down. Isolde huffs, "I was talking about how good it was at getting speeding tickets, and if the thing's autobahn-worthy." Ms. Meissner slips off the stool, and weaves through the crowd, pausing by Pile-Up and his singing crew to raise the roof a few times. She finally makes it back to her poster about terrforming, and begins to taking it down, still not comfortable with Xabat's keen interest in the metal-eating, electricity-producing bacteria part of her research. Once she gets the poster rolled up and properly stowed in the tube, she slings it over her shoulder. The college freshman then begins to meander over toward Mortex. His work was like a train wreck -- lordy, we don't want one to happen, but when it does, we want to be there. Compton Xabat gestures at Hardstrike to come get him. "Come on. *Do it.*" Dee-Kal gives an Ariel-style crooked smile, and shakes her head. Hardstrike narrows his optics, "I'm gonna' be the bigger mech." Which is easy, because he is. *ba-dum-dum-ching* Chip Chase nearly spittakes at Pile-Up's question. The only reason he doesn't is because he isn't drinking anything at the time. He raises his hand to his mouth and hides his laughter by pretending to cough. While Compton ignores Pile-Up, Chip Chase does not, for the Junkion is our next presenter! "Up next, from the planet Junk, we have Pile-Up, as sponsored by Pile-Tech Industries Intergalactic. I like the name," he quips. Vorath spreads his arms out and points out, "A number of pieces of peaceful farming equipment can kill, entirely incidentally. You haven't lived until you've tried to sew back on an arm severed by a thresher. Moreover, if they have the intelligence of pets... it is quite possible to /teach/ a pet to attack and kill. What is to stop some enterprising, bored youth from cracking the OS on one of your machines and going on a rampage?" First Aid appears behind Hardstrike. He puts his hand on the Autobot's shoulder and nods approvingly, "Good, Hardstrike. Let the villains be the villains and we'll take the high road." "The AUTOBOTS!" shouts someone from the back. Sounds like Huffer. Once he is announced and cleared to go on, Pile-Up moves his Box o Doom into place, with the help of the Mini-Junks. Korn-Wall does his thing, immediatly transforming his arms into speakers, and playing the Monty Python's Flying Circus theme. "Presenting, in all it's glory! Pile-Tech Industries Crystaline Fiber-Mesh Armor Weave!" Pile-Up hits the button on the box, and the entire thing springs open, a wonder of Subspace work right there. The box unfolds, and unfolds, and unfolds. Showing a Cybertronian torso (which looks like it was recycled) and a human armor vest. Both are coated in a super fine mesh that looks like it could be made of quartz. Laser lights begin going off, reflecting off of fiber mesh, and off of disco balls, spraying light all over in conjunction with the multi-color spotlights. "Now you can go to Infinity and BEYOND with Pile-Tech Industries Fiber Mesh! Clean, force resistant, and tested at Pile-Tech labs to insure you, the consumer, get only the best!" holo-vid pops up showing Junkions with the weave on their bodies being fired from catapults, shot at, exploded, and so on. "Cleans in a jiffy, and helps make sure that when under fire you don't go "RAAAAAAID!" an explosion goes off with a huge ploom of smoke. "Focus light refracting, heat disbursing, kinetic distributing, and now with a glossy sheen to make all the ladies say 'Calgon take me away!' Pile-Tech Fiber-Mesh Armorweave is durable, flexible, and comes in a variety of colors the kids will love!" A bunch of mini-junks in sailor suits and little girl dresses parade by, their clothing modded with the mesh. "Utilizing a specific form of powdered white quartz, and undergoing the ZZZZecret Pile-Tech industries chemical and crystaline manipulation, enough can be made for an entire Junkion with only four hundred pounds of refined quartz powder!" more video show Pile-Up shooting at meshed armor plates with the JunkZOOKA, little mushroom clouds and nuclear white outs on the screen temporarily block view of the plates, but Pile-Up can be seen laughing maniacly and pointing at the, mostly, unharmed modified armor. Dee-Kal touches Sam's shoulder, and hands him a small pouch containing ear-plugs. She recalls Nebulos... "Me Grimlock be BIGGER THAN YOU!" That'd be Grimlock's statement as he stomps onto the scene. He glances around for a few moments, and hmmms, looking over the science fair with his better vantage point...and glances over at Pile Up's demonstration, and hmms. "Me Grimlock tougher than that." Swoop begins to clap like a spaz. "YAY! IT BEAUTIFUL!" Mortex claps blandly at Pile-Up's little toy, his disturbing laughter finally calmed. Red Alert heads more or less towards Mortek's display. Coincidently where Isolde is, too! In fact, he kneels next to the human, leans nearer to her, and asks a quick question. Steeltread walks his way in behind Grimlock.....and seems to look over the exhibits as well... Shockwave emits the usual six seconds of recorded applause. It does look like a useful invention. Red Alert mutters to Fusillade, "... I'd like... Dr Meissner?" First Aid has heard of this before, being good friends with the EDC. He hasn't had a chance to really look it over, though, so he's glad to get the presentation now. Chip Chase, being the CEO of a company that gets involved with defence contracts for Earth Defence Command, is also similarly interested. He jots down some notes of his own, though what he's writing is his own business. "What is the initial setup cost and the cost per unit if I may ask, Pile-Up?" Compton Xabat hms at Vorath. "The machines have numerous safeguards against that. They respond to verbal commands, and my remote, and they do not have the capability to be connected to a PC. Further, their programming is encrypted. But should someone still manage to find a way around all of that, well, the machines aren't very quick, nor overwhelmingly strong, so an uprising of these little robots wouldn't be much of a problem for your average police force." Sam probably doesn't need earplugs for the video. He climbs up on an empty table and has a seat to watch. Pile-Up looks to Chip, and then down at Kornwall, then back at Chip Chase "Well I'd say about tree fitty" a little black man puppet pops out of his shoulder. "NO! Don' give him no damn Tree Fitty! He's dat damn Loch Ness Monsta!" Pile-Up cassualy pushes the puppet back in. "Pile-Tech Industries has already issued materials for testing, and for the production of Pile-Tech facilitations of Crystal-Mesh Fiber Weave to the EDC... But... Hrmm" he looks to the side. "What do we have for him Bob!?" Bob-Bot pops up. "A brand new cost dossier! Available to purchasers! Basic startup fees for human sized equipment starts at about tree fitty, and comes with all this!" a group of Junki-Femmes in bikinis step up and begin pawing over a display "The Patented Pile-Tech Crystal Mesh Fiberweave Chemical Compound Facilitation unit! And six tons of processed crysal quartz prepped for induction into the system!" Pile-Up poses now, all sorts of sparkly lights going off. "And if you act now, Pile-Tech industries provides THESE free gifts!" a display box opens, showing a plush Dee-Kal, Grimlock, Swoop, and FX toys. Dee-Kal keeps the ear plugs to hand... just in case. She cheers at Vorath smirks slightly and murmurs, "So you, Mr. Xabat, are the weak link in the chain, then. Someone who wishes to use your Machines for ill might well go after said remote - or you." Yeah, the wanted terrorist might just get /other/ wanted terrorists after him, to use him for completely different acts of terror. He watches the video critically, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Finally, he says of Pile-Up's work, "I'd like to see frequency testing." "Oooh! Grimlock! Buy that for me Swoop so me can get cool toys!" Swoop hollers. Grimlock pauses at Pile Up's display- he's not sure WHAT it is, but hey, toys. And Swoop wants them, apparently. "You Swoop spend you own moneys!" he grunts, and looks back towards Pile Up. "That thinge look like me Grimlock, so me Grimlock get one FREE!" he says- apparently unfamilliar with little things like copyright law. Dee-Kal keeps the ear plugs to hand... just in case. She cheers at Pile-Up's enthusiastic presentation. Whether it's a quality product or not (and it is!) the hype alone is enough to get buyers hauling out their chequebooks. "How about a demonstration?" Hardstrike calls out to Pile-Up. Steeltread chuckles lightly as Pile-up gives out his own demonstration. He Makes his way through the crowd to get a better look. He probably bumps into hardstrike on the way. Compton Xabat hrmphs, waving a hand dismissively at Vorath. "Nonsense." Of course, he failed to mention that he himself eventually planned on hijacking all of these robots if they became mainstream and holding industrialized nations hostage. He turns to Pile-Up's exhibit and smirks. "Oh, look, the garbage is selling garbage." "No one here has active weaponry," says Shockwave in response to Hardstrike. "Bylaws of the event." Batting her eyes, Isolde hmms, and nods. "That should be fine, could do with some company considering some of the... other interested parties." She thinks for a bit, looking over the glossy panels of the security officer's form. "Turn into a sports car, d'ya? I learned how to drive on one. Nothing QUITE so exotic. You got paddle shifters on your steering wheel?" Pile-Up cassualy clicks a button on his remote control, more Holo-Vids. Imagery of various laser systems being used against the Fiber-Mesh are shown, complete with Benny Hill music when part of the video shows another Junk being chased by Pile-Up with a blaster canon in hand. Korn-Wall looks up at Grimlock when he bellows... and heck Pile-Up likes the Dinobots, so the 8-Trak digs into the supply bin, pulling out a set of all four plushies for both Grimlock and Swoop. Hardstrike's request brings an immediate, and psychotic, grin to Pile-Up's face, "Demonstrations available by request! Bring the sunscreen, and for such a display, here's blackie weather reporter with the forecast for such a display!" a puppet of a portly black man pops up. "ITS GOAN BE LOUD!" then it sinks back in. "Thank you Ollie!" Junkions not part of the display cassualy launch spitballs the size of bowling balls towards Xabat. Compton Xabat frowns as he is fired upon! However, like all terrorists he is not above using others as a shield, and so he simply stands behind the car automatons, ordering them to close ranks in front of him. The spitballs splatter against them, but the robots don't move, absorbing the punishment without protest. "Heh. Losers." Sam hops down and goes over to examine Xabat's display more closely. Dee-Kal rises to her feet. She carefully empties her crate of parts into a neat heap to one side, then approaches Compton quietly and calmly. Crouching down, she views the senior human with mild optics. The Mini-Junks fire spit balls in his direction. Dee-Kal neatly deflects them from him... Chip Chase arches an eyebrow at Pile-Up's initial response. Being a Season 1 & 2 human ally, he doesn't know the Junkions as well as others. "Well, my people'll talk with your people after the fair," he promises. "But this probably isn't the place to conduct business. Up next we have..." Chip consults his cue card and smiles, "Up next we have Swoop and his volcano. Go for it, Swoop." The aliens in the audience are a mix of annoyed that Swoop got to enter and amused at Swoop, for he is the second cutest Dinobot. Swoop hasn't been impressed by any of the other exhibits so far. Sure, it's because he has no clue what he was hearing or seeing, but the point remains! He stalks around to the side of his project, a rather smug look on his face. "Prepare to be amazed, for me Swoop has best die-o-rama ever!" In a swift motion, he yanks the sheet off, revealing... ..A playdoh volcano. It's quite nice, really. He even colored it brown to make it more realistic. Oh, but that's not all! At the bottom of the volcano, Swoop has recreated a grassy habitat complete with inhabitants! Standing nearby a couple of lego trees are Decepticons, represented by their G1 toys; specifically Thundercracker, Ravage, Vortex, and Shockwave. "Look at these Decepty-cons enjoying nice day." Swoop reahces down and wiggles Thundercracker around. 'NICE DAY, TODAY, SHOCKWAVE' he makes it say. Then he waggles Shockwave around, "INDEED. TODAY IS NICE DAY. ME SHOCKWAVE WISH ME COULD ENJOY IT BUT ME ONLY HAVE ONE EYE." Swoop pulls out a small box. "Now, me will explain SCIENTIFIC PROCEDURE!" The Dinobot lifts a pitcher of red colored water out of the box and pours it into the volcano. "First, water!" Then he drips some detergent into it. "Then...uh..this stuff. Me not know what it does, but that what internet say to do." He reaches back into the box and pulls out a large box of Arm and Hammer baking soda only to dump the entire contents in. "Then this stuff. It makes fridges smell not bad." Finally, a jug of vinegar. "And then smelly stuff. WATCH AND BE AMAZED!" Swoop pours in the whole jug and after a few seconds the volcano spews out soapy red foam. "TA-DAH! EXPLOSION! KAAABOOOOOOMMM!" The foam dribbles down and engulfs the toys. "OH NO! HIM RAVAGE EXPLODED IN LAVA! OHH NOOO, NOW SHOCKWAVE HAVE EXPLODED TOO! OH NO, WHOLE ISLAND GOING TO EXPLODE!" Swoop takes the entire display and flips it into the air. "KABOOOOOOOMMMM! KAAAPOOOWWW! FAAABLAAAAM!!!" As the display sits in a foamy, messy, sticky pile, Swoop brushes his crest with a hand and grins. "Questions?" Steeltread CLANK! a loud facepalm is heard at Swoop's display..... Shockwave has no questions. He stares mercilessly. Pile-Up and his Junkion enterage applaud in a standing ovation, whistling and everything. Mortex lets out another of those disturbingly shrieky laughs, standing and clapping as well. It was just too damn funny not to. Shockwave emits the applause sound for only three seconds instead of six this time, however. Hardstrike claps, and chuckles. Because Swoop is always good for a joke. Fusillade drops Presentation Transcript -- Isolde Meissner. First Aid, who has been agreeing with Chip on just about everything thus far tonight, is also on board with the Swoop Is Adorable concept. Technically Chip figures that this isn't really /peaceful/, per se, but he doesn't have the heart to bother explaining that to Swoop. He also doubts the Decepticons going to be (genuinely) insulted by the display. "I have a question," Chip says, "How did you make your diorama?" Presentation Transcript -- Isolde Meissner A transcript of Isolde Meissner's presentation on genetically engineered cyanobacteria intended for terraforming. The goal is to oxygenate atmospheres, and possibly make soils friendlier to human settlers. Pretty sharp for a college undergrad. For each section of her talk, type either 'Base Organism', 'Genetic Engineering', or 'Questions' "Yay Swoop!" Grimlock claps his hands- quite loudly, even. "Yaaay Swoop! Him Swoop have BEST SCIENCE EVER! It best one, 'cuz it have Decepticons 'sploding! Haw haw haw!" He claps some more, and then stomps on over towards Swoop, standing fast by his buddy. "Where Judges? Judges need say him Swoop winner now!" Compton Xabat stares at Swoop's diorama. "Ehhh, right. No questions." Dee-Kal greets Compton in friendly neutral fashion. "Hajimemashite, Xabat-sama. Aloha" she says, her empty crate on one side. "Your presentation was different. But I think it was good..." Sam raps carefully on one of Xabat's robots. You say, "There are no judges, Grimlock. We're just sharing knowledge. Knowledge to help the galaxy!... and also Xabat entered something." The robot stares back at Sam with cold, unfeeling camera eyes. Compton Xabat glares up at Dee-Kal. "Eh? You're one of those Junkions, aren't you? What do you want?" Grimlock peers down at First Aid. "Whuh? No winner? That dumb." Swoop gives Grimlock a double thumbs up. He turns to Chip and coughs, clearing his throat for the wordy explanation he was about to give.. "First, me Swoop get Nuka-Cola bottle from trash and put it on cardboard. Then me get bunch of Play-Doh from humie store and make it into LIFE LIFE VOLCANO!" Dee-Kal picks up some discarded drinks bottle and tins, and places them in a nearby trash can. "It is always good to be useful, ne..?" she notes. Vorath was doing vaguely unethical animal studies in grade school, when all the other Nebulan kids were killing plants with acid and making... what Swoop just did. He facepalms wth a clang. Steeltread did that already. Pile-Up wanders up to Swoop, while he describes how he built his diorama, digging into Subspace and pulling out a trophy with a bunch of gold star medals poking off it on wires, and holds it out for Swoop. In stereo is better. Mortex finally sits back down on the sedan, having expended his clapping and laughter. He was simply too amused to be angry. Though he'd probably have to watch his back around Shockwave for the next couple weeks. You say, "I like to think that we're /all/ winners here today, Grimlock. Also Xabat is here." Swoop brings a hand to his mouth and gasps! "For...for me Swoop?" His lip quivers and he takes the stunning trophy from Pile-Up, optics gleaming. "Oh...thank you! Me Swoop thank all of you! Me not be able to do this without you!" Sam starts looking around the robot for any access, or readout, or display. Or anything interesting (maybe a Kill All Humans button). Red Alert looks down, as if only now remembering that he's a sports car, and smiles faintly. "Uhm, yes and no. I'm a Lamborghini Countach, LP500s. No paddle shifters, though." He chuckles lightly. "Not that, erm, my steering wheel gets much use anyway. But I appreciate you taking the time." He pauses, and then adds, "You mentioned crashing your car. Do you need transport?" He glances up at the chaos going around, winces, and sighs at the madness. "Very nice, Swoop! The trophy is well deserved." Chip says, managing to not sound condescending. Most of the audience looks like they're ready to move onto some more real science, though. "Up next we have Shockwave from the Decepticons and his Chronal Dissonance Engine." Grimlock hnfs. "If ALL winners, NOBODY winners." Grimlock, Libertarian? "'cept me Grimlock. Me Grimlock winner all the time." he notes, and pauses. "...Wait. Him Cartman Zendbat here? So?" he hmms, and scans the science fair, hmmming. "Me Grimlock...no thought me could smash him though?" Shockwave leaves his drones in charge of the exhibit and takes the stage, ticking smoothly as he approaches the podium and pauses to stare at the projector, eye flashing rapidly as he accesses the network and uploads his presentation. The microphone squeals with feedback briefly before he adjusts the volume of his internal speakers to account for it. "My submission is the chronal dissonance engine." The projector displays a 3D rendering of something that looks almost exactly like an old-fashioned naval mine- a black metal ball with telescoping rods sticking out of it at regular intervals all over its surface. "As you may know, time is relative, and spacetime, relative to our frame of reference, is deformable by gravitons." The projector shows a familiar diagram of Astrotrain passing Motormaster, with Rumble on one and and Frenzy on the other, both waving at Reflector who is watching from beside the road. A series of formulae pop up showing how time travels more slowly for Rumble relative to everyone outside Astrotrain, but at the same speed relative to Astrotrain. Then it shows a gravity well and more formulae demonstrating how time changes relative to the gravity well, and thereby how mass alters time. "Without going into details that would be at best tedious and at worst disasterous, the chronal engine operates on the principle of using a controlled distortion of spacetime, a time dilation to use the lay terminology, to set up an oscillation between adjacent supercooled superconductors on either side of the vibrating distortion, the harmonics of which cause time to fold back on itself within the gap, reproducing an environment common at the creation of the universe, a singularity which exists in all time and in all spaces simultaneously within that frame of reference." The projector just shows an extremely dense series of formulae and various Cybertronian and alien scripts during this speech, growing exponentially less easy to follow with each slide. "The unique properties of this phase space creates what is best described as a vacuum into our reality's past, extracting the particles by which the mechanism of time operates, which I have dubbed 'chronatons,' and ejecting them as highly excited photons as they cross the axis of the spacetime distortion and enter this dimension. The photons exit the chronal engine as gamma radiation at the nodules, here. This radiation may be captured in whatever way is most efficient." The projector wraps up the increasingly occult calculations, which at this point appear to be machine code translations of dead languages which are in turn describing unreal mathematics, non-euclidean geometry and the secret message hidden within pi, and shows a few pictures again. This time it's of the mine-looking thing emitting wiggly lines from all of its rods. The wiggly lines strike a row of other diagrams: photovoltaic cells, plasma bottles, water circulating through a steam turbine. "The chronal engine has no upper limit to the amount of energy it can produce, but there can only be a single chronal engine in any one universe, for reasons that I should hope would be obvious to my peers in the field and which are unnecessary to explain to the layperson. I do not personally believe that it will annihilate the very framework of reality or the potential for matter as we know it to exist. I do not inform you of this in the interest of winning any awards, or selling a product. My presence is instead intended as a warning and a request. The warning is to not attempt to duplicate my research as the results of a second chronal engine being activated would be dire for everything within twelve point eight light-seconds of the secondary engine. The request is to inform me via my current address (Office of the Director of Operations, Nightsiege, Cybertron) if any temporal anomalies of a heretofore-unobserved nature are recorded anywhere in the universe. I allow for the potential of my being in error, and if it proves so, even a single datum of this nature may be vital to the contin Pile-Up smirks a bit at Grimlock and gives Swoop his customary hug, then looks back out over the crowd, curious as to who may be next. SCIENCE! continued existence of all that is. End of line." Shockwave stands back from the podium and looks at everyone with his single dispassionate yellow eye. After a pause where he is apparently organizing his thoughts, he adds, "I will now take questions." Mortex holds up his index claw. Swoop raises his hand. Compton Xabat is indeed here. "Ehm, yes," he says, staring up at Dee-Kal. "Yes, cleanliness is... useful." The carbot's conversation with Sam is just as awkard. Its head tracks Sam as he moves around it. Hm. Seems there's a plug on the back of it, probably to charge it. Also, an access panel here and there. "Mortex," says Shockwave, pointing at him with his laser pointer. Mortex seems more likely to have an intelligible question. Dee-Kal glances up at the stage and aws at Swoop, how kawaii - a volcano. Every kid's first project, right? ^-^ She returns her attention to Xabat. "I like the idea of robots to help people. Especially those humies who are elderly or infirm. They need help, but dignity also, ne..? To live comfortably." She smiles. "And what civic minded robot would find it unpleasant to help them..? I liked your presentation..." "And what," the Decepticon skeleton begins, "Is the margin of error you've calculated? Or would you prefer that data not released publically?" Grimlock stares blankly at Shockwave. Granted, he hasn't much of an expression in the first place, but still. "Hey! You listen to him Swoop question! Him Swoop have BETTER question than him robot ghost! Hey! Heeeeey!" Swoop begins to wave his arm around. "Oooh! OOOOOOOHHHH! HEY! PICK ME! ME WAS FIRST! HEY!" "Ooooh! Me Grimlock just think of question too! Hey! Heeeey!" Gears got so bored he fell asleep! He's snoring in a corner of the room. Compton Xabat raises a hand to Shockwave, idly replying to Dee-Kal. "Well, yes, but I for one would prefer robots without any illusions as to what they are--that is, tools." Pile-Up blinks and begins hopping up and down, "OH! OH! OH!" You'd think it impossible for a transformer's optics to glaze over. Hardstrike's however, did, during Shockwave's presentation. Isolde's thumb spams over the keypad of her texting device, prompting it to receive any incoming messages -- perhaps to see just how much trouble she's in. "That was a few weeks ago. It was kinda /weird/ being named after it. Mom and dad take long trips now that I'm in college, so they didn't really know until just now. I really /don't/ wanna think about what they're doing on that sailboat!" At the mention of his make and model, she coos out, "NICE. Although you might want to pay attention to what Ol' Blinky is doing up there, too. Time travel." She shudders a bit, perhaps not aware that Decepticon weapons-of-the-week are something that the Autobot security officer may be inured to, and thusly less alarming than metal-eating bacteria. She begins to edge closer to Mortex's patient. "Is... it alive still?" she asks -- mostly to Red Alert. "All us has questions!" Swoop yells. He turns to Pile-Up, "Why he ignoring us?" "The margin for error is either zero, or one in three," replies Shockwave. "Depending on whether karma exists, which I as yet have no means of detecting." He points at Swoop. "The Dinobot." Mortex bobs his head in acknowledgement at Shockwave, satisfied. Chip Chase leans forward and rests his chin on his hands, propping up his arms with his elbows as he watches and listens to the presentation. He's a robotics and electronics expert, so most of this goes over his head, but he has people on his staff (who are in the audience) who will get this sort of thing and understand it. Presumably the thingee Shockwave mentioned that would be obvious to his peers is indeed obvious to them. Sadly they'll never get a chance to work with someone as well versed in this subject as Shockwave, cause Shockwave is evil as hell. Grimlock nudges Swoop. "You Swoop go first." Swoop fist pumps. "Oh! Uhm, yes! Why you only have one eye?" "And why you Shockwave so ugly?" -says Grimlock. Pile-Up says, "What's the question to Forty Two!?" Steeltread clanks as he facepalms again Hardstrike chuckles loudly. Vorath steeples his fingers again and then raises a hand. Mindwipe, on the other hand, assures, deadpan, "Karma exists. Why else would I end up on a ship with Triggerhappy and Misfire?" "Me Swoop have second question! Why you only have one arm, too?" Grimlock turns to Swoop. "Him have TWO arms. Just one hand. 'cept when me Grimlock rip him Shockwave arms off! Haw haw haw! Me do that sometimes." Steeltread raises a hand now.......odd....the soldier has a question. Swoop ohh's. "Oh! 'Nother question! Why you chest so big? You lady-bot in disguise?" "UGLY lady-bot. Haw haw haw." Grimlock notes. These guys are worse than Statler & Waldorf. "Oh, believe me, miss, I've been listening," Red Alert says quiet seriously. "Mostly, however, I've learned enough to determine that I'm not going to learn what I really need to know by asking him directly." Red Alert is already making plaaaaaaaans to deal with it. He looks over at Mortex's victim patient, sniffs faintly, then nods. "He's still alive. Oddly." "I am unbound by slave-species concepts such as organic bilateral symmetry and aesthetic pleasure," Shockwave intones via the speakers built into him. "I primarily utilize senses other than sight and, if I require a second hand for my work, I can affix one temporarily." He redirects the laser pointer towards Xabat. "The Earthling." Pile-Up says, "If he was in disguise he wouldn't have the pink lingerie!" Wal-Dorf pops up next to Pile-Up and both laugh "WOAH-OH-OH-OH-OH-OH-OH-OH-OH" Swoop turns to Grimlock, "What he say?" "Uuuuh. Me dunno." Grimlock shrugs. "Him always talk like that. 'til me Grimlock punch him in FACE! Or, uh. Face...part...where him glowy eye thing am." Compton Xabat asks, "You said that this machine sucks energy out of the past? What if I invented a machine that sucks energy out of the future, where, presumably, due to the aging and expansion of the universe, there'd be no one left alive to use that energy--ahem, I'm getting ahead of myself. Would a machine that sucks energy from the future interfere with your machine?" Sam briefly considers opening up one of the access panels on the Xabat robot. Without going so far as to actually get a multitool out of his pocket, he pokes at the panel, to see if it will open on its own. And, finally, as Xabat speaks...the realization seems to sink into Grimlock's thick head. "Wait." he says- taking a moment to let his CPU catch up with him. "Uh. So." "...If gizmo thing take energy from PAST...what happen when past turn into NOW?"
* pop* Out the panel goes. The robot watches Sam open it up without complaint. "Not as such," replies Shockwave. "However, if my calculations are correct, because the future is variable while the past is a fixed quantity, the amount of chronatons produced by a chronal dissonance engine tapping the future as opposed to the past would eventually experience a divide-by-zero error which would result in a similar result to activating a second past-accessing engine." He points at Pile-Up. "What is six times seven." Then at Steeltread. "The tank Autobot." Pile-Up bahhhs Compton Xabat scratches his head, trying to work this problem out in his own head. Pity he can't reverse-engineer Shockwave's device just going by what he has on display. Steeltread lowers his hand as shockwave calls on him. "Have you been able to work the problems with the Time and space variables as well as Systematic as well as Galactic spin variables to draw energy from? I mean, You've gotta have a point in time where you can draw energy from instead of empty space. Right?" Dee-Kal h'ms, standing upright. She nods, and lifts her crate. A typical crate as boxes go, with lots of air holds perforating the sides. "It was good to meet you, Xabat-sama" she notes. "You have good ideas, and constructive questions for others..." Sam tilts his head. Well that was easy. With the internal systems available for a look-see, Sam checks out Xabat's handiwork, making mental notes of what he sees. "Well a lot of that was far beyond me, Shockwave, but I've got to say it definitely sounded impressive," Chip Chase says, "And we appreciate that you'd give us this warning about the dangers in this device." Science? Dangerous? Pfft. Folks can still ask questions to Shockwave, but Chip goes ahead and announces the next presenter. "Up next we have an exhibit from the University of California, Berkeley." Compton Xabat looks up at what Dee-Kal is doing, realization dawning on him. "Wait... what are you doing with that?" He begins to back up away from the Junkion. The robot remains still as its innards are examined. Not too many surprises in here, though the transformation mechanisms are pretty complex. Vorath notes, "Two points. Energy, as we all know, can be transformed into matter, but it cannot be created or destroyed, so by adding energy to the universe that did not previously exist by tapping the past, you are essentially violating what we know as a critical physical rule, so the fact that the device functions at all implies that everything we know is wrong. Second of all, given the vast size of the universe, is it not possible that someone has already constructed not a second but a first version of the device and yours is, in fact, the copy, and your explosive calculations may be in error?" Gears snorts awake. "Berserkely? Oh, here we go..." Dee-Kal nods, good-naturedly. Then in a neat swift move, she turns the crate over and plonks it over Xabat. "But it was *not* good of you to call my cousin Pile-Up 'garbage selling garbage'!" She sits on the crate. "I do not know when or where in the past timestream the chronatons drawn through the singularity come from," replies Shockwave, "nor can I control either factor. I only know that they come from the past instead of the future because of an experiment, fortunately carried out in a remote star system which will not be missed, which resulted in the aforementioned division error and permitted me to make a more educated revision to the engine's design. This is cutting edge work. Perhaps in a future version I will be able to select where and when the chronatons are drawn from. Thank you, Earthling," he adds to Chip, and switches off the projector, stepping back down with a thin puff of steam from his vents. First Aid's optics flash as his team is called upon. "Oh, yes! Sorry!" He quickly jogs back to the booth. "Excuse me, pardon me, sorry sir and/or madam..." finally he makes it there and is joined by several university students and researchers. The Protectobot turns around to address the audience. "Before I begin I'd just like to thank the Helen Wills Neuroscience Institute for their tremendous dedication to seeing that the work is a success." "I apologize I'm not much for long speeches, but our exhibit is in exo-skeletal research in order to increase mobility for the physically handicapped." First Aid holds out a long series of metal ribbons about an inch thick. "This is the suit in its unequipped and powered down form." One of the students, a young man wearing shorts and a T-shirt, takes the metal 'suit' and activates it. Within the span of several minutes, using various magnetic devices, the ribbons cover the man in an intricate pattern, creating a strange costume of sorts. He moves around in it a bit, but his motions are slow and awkward. "Now what is important to see here is that Derek here is not using his muscles," First Aid explains, "But rather he is using his mind to command the suit. It is perhaps awkward and can be disrupted by many environmental effects, but the hope is eventually to give everyone freedom of motion and mobility. Eventually this could even be adapted to machines not physically attached to the person, though I think we're quite a ways off for that." First Aid can also think of a lot of weapon applications for this, but he doesn't bother mentioning it. Steeltread nods to Shockwave. "thank you...." "I... see," Isolde remarks to Red Alert about the vivisection. "I will definitely get as much information to you as possible," she murmurs. And then she hears the name Berkeley. She perks up, and with a swish, settles into a seat to soak up the information about enabling the handicapped. Shockwave finds Vorath to continue the conversation more quietly. It mutters to Mindwipe, "... was previously inaccessable... high-energy physics.... that... possibly even the... in some... and... that... always take... instantaneously,... a... delay. So... has... the... prototype." Compton Xabat yelps as he is trapped under the box! "Gah! Help! It's trying to capture me! Security! Men! Someone! Someone help me!" Xabat's thugs are the first to arrive, and they stare up at the Junkion doubtfully. "What we do, boss?" one asks. "I don't know!" Xabat yells. "Throw things at it until it moves!" The thugs shrug at each other, and begin to throw props from Xabat's display at Dee-Kal. Sam seems to be in the clear for further examination of this robot. He uses a flashlight to get a better look inside at the circuitry, especially the transformation mechanism. Pile-Up leaps in front of Deek as thugs begin throwing things at Deek. His guns are offline, but his right hand sinks in, chainsaw popping out and buzzing to life. "Go ahead... make my day." glowering. Mortex makes a rather loud noise, somewhere between a car backfiring and a bird exploding from alka-seltzer, in the direction of the general commotion, focusing back on First Aid. Red Alert smiles faintly. "Thank you, miss. I appreciate your assistance in this matter." Then, as Isolde moves to watch First Aid's presentation, Red Alert goes back to walking through the fair, head tilting from time to time, occasionally looking off in the odd direction as something happens. He glances very briefly at Shockwave as he speaks to the Nebulan, but then his optics move on as he continues to take in the general chaos. "The problems we've faced so far is in perfecting a system capable of detecting simple commands or electrical impulses from the brain," First Aid continues, "As my human friends often say, we know how important the brain is, yet we hardly know how it works." Transformers can't really talk about this. They have more lost technology than you can shake a stick at. "This suit for example has been calibrated specifically for Derek here, and I'm afraid it only accepts very, very simple-" Mortex makes his loud noise. "Ahem, excuse me. Very simple commands," he concludes. Derek meanwhile moves around a bit more, but finally returns to his own power. "If there are any questions, we will field them as best as we can." Grimlock hmms, and watches First Aid's presentation for a bit, idly tapping at his chin. "Uuuuh. That for humies? Why make stuffs for them? Them all small and squishy! Should make transformer stuff! Big stuff! With lasers!" Mortex raising his index finger. Dee-Kal fends off the props with relative ease. She addresses the thugs. "Please..! Do not do that, you will break his expensive accessories..!" Deeky smiles, sweetly. "Compton Xabat-sama is not hurt. But he was rude to my cousin. As you can see, Pile-Up is not pleased with such unsporting comments from a fellow merchant..." At the abrupt sound from Mortex, Isolde leaps from her seat. She half-raises a hand for First Aid's attention, although she's clearly distracted. "When would be a good time to meet?" she asides to Red Alert. "More volcanoes!" Swoop shouts. "With 'sploding stuff!" Grimlock chimes in. The thugs back away from Pile-Up. They don't want none 'a that. However, Xabat has more tricks than that under his sleeve, and suddenly the robot drones comprising his exhibit begin to move--and probably ending Sam's examinations. As one great big mindless team, the fridgebot, fanbot, and carbots gather around the box, stick their fingers in the air holes, and *lift.* Their combined strength is enough to lift the Junkion, and, if she doesn't move, she might get dumped off. Xabat scrambles out from under the box, and aims the remote at Dee-Kal, crowing triumphantly, "Man beats machine! Now... can we get some security in here!?" First Aid takes Grimlock's question seriously, apparently. "I've never found size or squishiness to be an important factor in terms of how much one can contribute to society. While I can't speak for my colleagues here-" As far as the technology goes First Aid was only one of a small team. "-but for me I did it because I felt the technology could seriously improve the lives of many people, and that the technology has a lot of additional applications one could use in the future. I'll continue working to help my fellow Transformers of course, but for this science fair, with its focus on peace, we felt that this was the appropriate presentation to make." First Aid scans the audience, seeing Mortex and Fusillade both somewhat raising their hands. Mortex was first, though, so, "Yes, Mortex?" Vorath finds First Aid's project extremely interesting, and he applauds politely. The Nebulan scientist then asides quietly to Shockwave. Isolde absently begins texting. 'Ur rite the DINOBOTS were here this wasn't a hard conference' Mindwipe mutters to Shockwave, "I... you... consequences." "I'm not sure yet, to be honest," Red Alert answers Isolde. "I'll... have a lot to deal with after this show." Oh, /boy/ will he. "Is it all right if I contact you?" Then he pauses as though he hears something else, than laughs. Mortex crosses his arms and stands. "Such a technology obviously has enormous potential to revolutionize human medicine. How fine have you been able to create the devices? How deftly could your suit potentially manipulate surgical tools? If you fine-tuned it to the appropriate degree, could it potentially be controlled remotely by the human mind, or allow multiple ones to be controlled at the same time? A single doctor could ptoentially be an entire surgical team." Sam pulls his hands away from the robot. "Hrm." He glances over at Xabat. "Actually, man assisted by machines defeats machine." He points at Xabat, and then the robots, to illustrate his points. Fusillade doens't have a question. She is halfway across the galaxy blowing up stuff. Lucky girl. Compton Xabat rolls his eyes at Sam. "Bah. Who cares?" He then takes in First Aid's invention. He missed the first part of the presentation, and so can only guess what the thing is for. "What is that, a control harness?" Shockwave intones in reply, It mutters to Mindwipe, "... data... no... from... was... to detect... Cybertron, upon... the... failure... earlier... engine... all matter... aforementioned... radius to... circumference of a... and... into... through... annihilated... antiprotons, judging... escaping... process. As... chronal engine might... but... the ultimate... earth... the... the matter to... may,... you suggested, accelerate the heat... of... Therefore once I... such... was possible,... the..." Isolde tilts her head, sable curls slipping down her shoulders. She SQUINTS at Red Alert's chuckle, but dimisses it, fishing out a card from the stack of papers and pamphlets she's picked up from the exhibitor hall. "Here you go. American phone dialing protocol. E-mail's listed on there too. I just noticed you have a set of police bar lights... ever use them to get around traffic for fun?" Swoop crosses his arms and huffs. "Me wish there not so much muttering in here.." First Aid nods as Mortex rattles off his list of questions, having anticipated this one. "Not very fine at all. We can't really give a good estimate for all the applications you just mentioned, as right now as you can see walking is tough enough, but those are the long term goals. The suit itself requires contact with the body in order to pick up the brain impulses, but once the technology is perfected there would be nothing stopping you from having the suit simply contain a transmitter that links it up to other machines." To Xabat, First Aid hesitates but then sums it up, "It is a suit that operates via the mind, letting those with disabilities walk." Dee-Kal finds her victory short-lived as the appliance bots operate by remote control. But far from deterred, she makes the best of the situation, and slides from the elevated, tilted box. "Wheee-hee-hee!" she laughs, landing on her feet. She then makes a swift swoop with a hand to snatch the remote from Xabat while he's distracted - or at least knock it from his grasp. Dee-Kal misses Compton Xabat with her grasp attack. Grimlock hmms, and glances towards the Dee-Kal vs. Xabat Fracas, and hnfs. "Them Junkions crazy." he rumbles, and then siiiighs a bit more. "Me Grimlock want see some 'splody 'ventions! Like him Swoop! Him Swoop do BEST SCIENCE EVER!" Sam frowns a bit and walks over to tap on Dee-Kal's knee. Swoop nods. "It true! Me Swoop had best invention! Look! Me have trophy to prove it!" Mindwipe has to excuse himself (and his giant bat, too). He needs to work on setting up Mindwipe's exhibit and trying to plead with Mindwipe to make the actual presentation make some scientific sense. He replies politely, because for all that he loathes the Machines with which he has to work, he does respect Shockwave as a scientist, He mutters to Shockwave, "... model would... thereof... I... new... mathematics... be... prior.... you for... my..." Then he is off. Dee-Kal holds off further moves and looks to Sam. Compton Xabat snatches the remote away, not trusting the Junkion. "SECURITY," he says in a deeper voice, looking around. As he backs away, he comments, "Yes, yes, via the mind--WHOSE mind, I wonder?" Chip Chase, who probably has a personal interest in the University's work, says, "Thank you. Our last presentation for the evening is Mortex of the Decepticons. He's going to be explaining about Transformer anatomy. Hopefully not on anyone specific," he jokes. Then he looks over at Mortex's exhibit. "Oh..." Mortex pulls the half-opened Seeker - with almost the entirety of his internal body parts replaced by simple car mechanics - and accompanying nearly-trashed Sedan up so others can view them. The Decepticon is utterly repulsive - patchwork, resembling nothing so much as an enormous steel-and-iron skeleton with visible innards, including something that looks like a pair of bags full of exhaust, a pumping fuel system circulating through his body, complex turning devices resembling joints, and - is that a slug in his chest?! Autobots might recognize on his left arm the stolen weapon of the Aerialbot Fireflight, crudely grafted on and connected to the disturbing collection of parts, and spread backwards from his back is what seems to be a sort of cape or cloak made entirely of metal, the Decepticon insignia etched and painted onto it. The diagrams on the background, etched in some language only other Cybertronians might actually be familiar with (or people with sufficient knowledge of Cybertronian biologies), are lovingly scratched into the huge metal display with what could either be laser or his own massive index claw. Very casually, he holds up the laser core he's removed from the Seeker. "Autobots, Decepticons, Junkions, Organics, and Miscellaneous Other Individuals." The Decepticon doctor wheezes, noxious fumes emitting from his metallic skull-like face and into the ventilation system, "My designation is Mortex. I am here to present a surgical theorum, one that, if successful, holds many life-saving opportunities for not simply Decepticons, but Autobots and other forms of inorganic, or 'quicklife.'" He gestures at the Decepticon strapped to the table with his internal workings missing. Still, the removed laser core pulses. "This is 'quicklife'." He gestures at the car. "This is 'slowlife'. Mechanical, but unintelligent, it is little more than a tool - a drone, a slave, a piece of metal. It is little better than...no, in fact, it is -lower- than a turbofox or a boosterbird, for even those creatures contain rudimentary instinct. This device is a solely human invention, but it is still a form of automated life." The Decepticon surgeon holds up what looks like a piston engine and oil delivery system, holding it up for the assembled to see. In his other hand, he holds up Decepticon internal workings with the same function. "I will now replace this seeker's energy translation system with the slowlife's combustion engine. To give you humans an appropriate comparison, it is the equivilant of replacing your biological organs with those of a plant or a rock." He taps the lower part of his chin. "It is as though I am crudely replacing his ability to process food by grafting a plant into his stomach, specifically. Though I must admit I know sadly little of biological life, I find it an apt comparison." Mortex stops for a moment, to allow everyone to catch up. "I took the liberty of preemptively replacing each of his joints with axels and similar slowlife workings; this is the final piece of the puzzle. Once I replace his laser core and engage his drive, he will either awaken, or die. It remains to be seen which, but I must note, he is here of his own free will...whether he lives or dies, it is for Science, as we have all gathered to celebrate and expand, yes?" Slowly, he inserts the engine and oil delivery, burning it into place with the omni-tool between his claws. "Before I reactivate my volunteer, are there any inquiries, concerns, or foo...erm, -audience members- with -ethical- problems relating to this experiment?" Based on the way he says 'ethical', he seems to find it more hilarious than serious. He replaces the laser core after a moment and turns back to the audience. "May I remind each of you that the goal of this is not to repulse you, but to save as many metallic lives as possible, with whatever parts are on hand. Now then...questions?" Sam just shakes his head at Deek. Red Alert accepts the business card and tucks it away in a small compartment in his forearm. At Isolde's question, his optics widen and the lights behind them flicker. "Oh, no!" he exclaims. "That would be an abuse of the trust that's been placed in me." He gestures a thumb towards the flashers. "These are officially sanctioned, and I take the responsibility those and the sirens represent very seriously." He clears his throat, then adds, "I am afraid that if you wish to, erm, exceed the speed limit to me, we would simply have to have our ride somewhere where there isn't one." Yes, he likes to go fast. He's a sports car, damn it. He's just a lot more stuffy about it than, say, the Lambo brothers. Compton Xabat yells, "I have no objections to there being one less robot running around!" "Utah," Isolde suggests while staring gape-jawed at Mortex's display. If there aren't any other major interventions, the college freshman will likely take her apple cheeks, dimpled chin, and hairstripe over to the refreshment line for diet soda. And then crash out in the posh king bed in the guest rooms attached to the Chase Technologies exhibition hall. Swoop raises a hand. Dee-Kal pauses, then nods to Sam, a little reluctantly, and complies. She kneels beside her human friend and ceases her moves against Compton Xabat. Andi Lassiter has been here the whole time, really. And here's one advantage to being short: she all but appears in front of Xabat, arms crossed and giving him her sternest glare. Mortex points his claw at Swoop, acknowledging the Dinobot's question. Grimlock glances at Swoop, and hmms. "It just septi-con, so it okay if he do bad things to it." he nods at this. "Me Grimlock just light thems both on fire later anyway." Swoop drops his hand. "Uhm, yes. Can you skull-guy do this again? But with Galvatron?" First Aid raises his hand. Grimlock oohs! "That good question!" "Also, why you talk funny," Swoop adds. Mortex seems immensely amused by the question. "Potentially, it would be compatible with any Cybertronian." He points at First Aid, ignoring the second question. Compton Xabat blink blinks at Andi Lassiter. "Ehm. Ahem. Ah. Did you have any questions about my display?" You say, "Oh I don't have a question. I was just answering your question about whether I have any ethnical problems related to this experiment." Grimlock waves First Aid off. "Shut up! Me Grimlock bet we get him Mortex try to stick him Galvatron head in toaster or something!" "Ah. I wasn't directing it at you specifically. As for why I speak this way..." He adds to Swoop, "I've replaced most of my own internal organs with other Decepticons'. And a few Autobots." Swoop raises his hand again. Andi Lassiter says, "A few, yes." She's still glaring at him in a manner that Sam might recognize as 'dangerous'. "First off, do these appliances have AI programs?" Mortex amusedly fingers Fireflight's arm-gun, quite brazenly mocking them as he presses his thumb and forefinger against the Seeker's head. The moment of truth... And the pistons fire, the combustion engine awakens, and the Seeker opens his eyes. Mortex steps to the side, pointing at Swoop again. First Aid seems glad to have wasted a few moments of Mortex's time with a little public display of protest. Groove would be proud. The Protectobot looks over at Grimlock and says, "There's no way he's going to do that, I'm afraid." Swoop stares. "Oh, sorry. Me was just stretching." Grimlock aaaws at First Aid. "Dang. 'cuz that be FUNNY." he notes. "Ah, very well," Red Alert answers Isolde. He, too, like many others, is watching Mortex's presentation with morbid fascination. He shakes his head, and mutters, "I'm not quite sure what I think of that." Sam blinks as his attention is drawn to the stage. Compton Xabat wonders who this crazy woman is and why she's looking at him like she wants to do something very painful and possibly fatal to him. "Ah, well, yes, they do. But only of a very basic nature. As I mentioned in my presentation, they have no ambition other than to serve." Mortex laughs, that horrible, grinding, rusty laugh, at Swoop. He seems to be incredibly amused by the whole thing - clearly, he has a better sense of humor than most Decepticons. Dee-Kal will apologise to Sam later for this, but for now makes peace with the thugs by passing out bottles of cold anchor steam beer from her subspace compartment - a gentle move of a hand behind her back, and returned, no malice. She is quite happy to serve, too. "You are just smurfing your job. I understand." To one with an intricate tattoo, "Hey... is that a Celtic pattern..? Impressive..." It's certainly a better sense of humor than Shockwave's, who at the moment is reciting a long string of numbers to an alien who looks like Lobot. "Are there any other questions?" The Decepticon asks, a picture of obeisance and politeness. He doesn't seem to regard his time as very valuable, though that may have something to do with the patchwork zombie cassettes falling from the coffin on his back and moving to wheel the seeker, the car, and everything except the display (and thus the most important information) away. Chip Chase doesn't seem too fond of the experiment either, but he puts on a brave face. "Well, I think that's a trick that not many species can pull off, Mortex. Thank you for the demonstration..." The inventor addresses the audience now and says, "That's it for our first evening of scheduled presentations. There's food and quarters below deck and in the docking ring for those who need it, and of course everyone is welcome up here on the observation deck to either check out the exhibits or admire the Rainbow Climbs." There's a round of applause. "Hnf. This boring now." Grimlock says. "...this boring when me GET here, n' prolly boring 'fore that. Hnf." he grumbles- and then trompatrompatromps off to create mayhem somewhere else. "Me Grimlock leaving!" Andi Lassiter isn't done grilling Xabat yet. And she may very well be trying to kill him with a glare. "Are these AI programs automatically upgraded via wireless connection, or do they require technician access?" The thug replies, "No, is Russian!" He pauses. "I tink." Xabat fidgets under the stare. Such hatred! And why? "Ehm, they'd need a technician to upgrade them." Korn-Wall A junkion! About the size of an average mini-bot, he looks like he turns into an 8-Trak tape once transformed. And sweet jeebus he's got a lab coat on and a doctors mask! Dee-Kal offers Sam a bottle as well, contentedly. Miss Andi is here to make Xabat squirm, which is all the 'revenge' she wanted, herself. And an apology for Pile-Up, of course. Andi Lassiter says, "One last question, sir." At least her words are neutral enough, if not the hint of controlled ire behind them. And at least she's sticking to the topic at hand. "What is the expected lifespan of these AI appliances?" Compton Xabat feels like he doesn't have enough armor between himself and the angry woman. "Hm. Uh, ten years, minimum? Maybe more? Depends on the appliance, really." Andi Lassiter nods curtly to Xabat. "Thank you." She turns to walk back over toward Sam and Deek, but gives Xabat one last killing glare. "I won't tell Mr. Redfield that I saw you here." And with that she slips back between the milling fair-goers. Compton Xabat blinks, shaking his head as if to clear it. "...Redfield? What? You're EDC?" But she's gone. "Bah." Dee-Kal nods to the social thug. "Nice detail. Clear, no smudging. Pretty smurfy. Cost a bit, ne..?" Mortex crouches, murmuring to Chip - "Thank you for hosting this. I appreciate your welcome." He then straightens and stands, moving into the crowd. At least he's polite. Sam frowns a bit at the exchange between Andi and Xabat, passively, and starts typing on his standard-issue comm device. Sam shows the screen to Andi. Andi Lassiter leans to glance at the screen on Sam's comm unit, then she shakes her head no at him. Dee-Kal glances up, inquiringly. Dee-Kal says, "Nan da..? Doushita no..?" Compton Xabat scratches the back of his head, and gestures for his men to help him clean up his exhibit. Tattoo guy says, "Yeah, cost lot. Boss make fun, but that ok." Sam clears the message out and types another one. Dee-Kal wonders what Sam's saying about her. Even though he probably isn't. To the tattoo guy, she gently bats her fingers on his broad shoulders. "Who cares what he smurfs of it? It is *your* decoration. Does he pay well? I hope so. Do not forget medical insurance and pension plans. Very important especially these days." She nods to the other hired bodies. "All of you, ne? You never know when it will smurf in useful." Andi Lassiter glances again, then nods to Sam before looking up at Dee. "Shall we go say hello to Chip?" Mortex is still milling about the area, examining various technological and biological devices for his own innate curiosity. Sam shrugs, then nods to Andi. He glances over at Xabat, who he watches for a few moments. Dee-Kal looks to Andi, and nods, cheerily. "Hai!" she says, after making sure that the thugs - who are really quite cool guys - all wind up costing Compton a fortune in insurance and pensions as well as pay. ^-^ Sam settles his attention on one of Xabat's robots, rubbing at his chin. Then he looks away, back to Deek and Andi. "Event concluded. Depart?" Andi Lassiter says, "Probably. I'm starving, haven't eaten at all today." Dee-Kal nods amiably. "Smurfy idea. I wonder if they have lemon soap? Or energon crispies... Sam hmms, looking around. "Remaining for remaind... erm... staying for rest of fair? Continues, multiple days." Andi Lassiter sighs, rubbing at her forehead now. Being glare-y for that long is tiring. "I don't know, Sam. Maybe." Dee-Kal chuckles, and ruffles Sam's ponytail with a finger. "*Food* is good. Food first, deciding later. Smurfy?" Sam squints at Deek, then nods. "Okay. Erm.. have had no opportunity to examine facility." Dee-Kal pauses. She straightens up, looks around. Then she identifies a set of doorways to respective cubicles at the far side of the area. She points. Sam looks at the doors, then at Deek. One nod. "Okay. Can explore." The science fair has wound down into random milling. Sam, Andi, and Dee-Kal are clustered somewhere out in the floor, chatting about something.
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