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Sorry I haven't updated. Things have been crazy. Well, crazier than usual. First, the T-100 combat chassis is a success. Durability exceeds expectations, pressure from the hydraulics indicates a near-human maximum of force, and the machine should even be able to react fast than its human operator. Unfortunatley, due to unforeseen accidents that may require the assistance of a witch to fully and properly explain, my soul has been shredded. A fragment, large enough to hedge anything weird out, resides in my comatose body. Unfortunatley, it's not large enough to provide motive force. In essence, it's like there's a thick soul paste where the soul should be. As for the biggest fragment, it appears to have been drawn to the T-100's soul trap, designed specifically with soul fragments in mind. The trap reads 100% full, which it shouldn't, considering I'd studied abortive (a demon caught between dimensions due to a botched transference) souls and they would have topped out at 32.7% max. While interesting and quite terrifying, I'm trying to adjust to the change in location. The glucose furnace, by the way, is a roaring success. Instead of having to charge for 27 hours for eight hours of motive energy, I can consume 10,000 calories and produce enough chemical energy to sustain the T-100 for 23 hours. About five pizzas do me well. Now we can look at where I went wrong. No tactile sensation That's right. While the T-100 provides adequate feedback about how much pressure is applied, allowing it to gingerly lift an egg without breaking it, it can't tell textures or any other tactile sensation. However, temperature is available through external monitoring to allow maximum cooling efficiency of the neural net. I guess some things are still okay there. No olfactory sensation You never know how important this is until you're forced to deal without it. I kind of miss smells. A lot. No sense of taste What's the point of eating if you can't taste it? Now for some recent events: I snuck into church while wearing a blanket like a robe to confess. I haven't really had any carnal thoughts, but I am keeping secrets from my parents. The priest couldn't give me absolution, since I had to continue doing the sin. I hope this sort of thing isn't too big a sin. It might hurt them even more if they found out the truth. Heather helped put the finishing touches on the T-100. I can now communicate efficiently, and all hydraulics are running perfectly. Which makes me feel bad that I pried into her personal stuff to secure Beth's phone number. It's just that I really miss her, and she seemed pretty mad at me before everything went south. She's not a bad person, and she had every right to be mad at the person that killed her. I just hope she doesn't still want to go back to being dead. I mean, I'm kind of like an undead now, too. I found a term in Manes Infernalum that I think might apply to me: manes ex machina, the ghost in the machine. It's latin, I think. Since I'm a soul inhabiting a robot, I think it might be kind of appropriate. Mom and dad aren't handling the me being in a coma very well. I've been monitoring hospital visits. Mom's been coming every day after work. She cries a lot. I wish I could just tell her I was watching her, but that might freak her out, particularly when I try to explain my theory of incidental obsession and resonance waves. I don't think she's ready for the MOTW world I live in now. I only see dad there occaisionally, and he never shows up with mom. I'm a little worried about that. I miss Petey, too. I hope dad's not feeding him every time he goes to the fridge. The last thing I want when I finally go home is to find an overweight dog waiting for me. And Mr. Harris is going to write a letter of recommendation for me. Heather's going to set me up with a SSN and an identity, and I'm going to apply at the University Computer Center. After all, who better to fix the network than someone that can talk directly to it? Enough about me, let's talk about my friends. Heather's okay. I think she's the one who weathered the whole Solstice Disaster better than any of us. At least she was the most prepared. She even got to keep her friendship with Beth. She's the only one who's had a chance to talk to her of late. I'm being kind of mean to her. I don't know why. She just seems so, I dunno, frail. The chemical reactions that keep her motive could easily be knocked out of whack, causing sickness, severe pain, or even death. She's the most normal of us. Maybe that's why I'm mean to her. I'm worried about her. But she can take care of herself. She fixed me, right? Natalie hasn't changed much. She seems sadder, though. And she doesn't want us going with her. I miss the patrols, but it does give me time to conduct additional research and write programs for the combat chassis. She doesn't spend as much time with Ramone either. At least, according to my chronometer, she doesn't. Mr. Prodan's out of the hospital! Yay! It's looks like he's going to make a full recovery. He's really tough, and he can stand up to anything. I hope I get a chance to run an EEG and ECG on him. I'd like to see what makes him so tough so that I can map out the signals for possible duplication later. Ramone seems pretty much the same, too. It's always a magical solution to the problem, when we could just as easily produce a scientific one. Magic is a chaotic, reckless force that sweeps all before it into madness. We saw how dangerous that sort of thing was with Mr. Tolgier. Mr. Harris has been kind of distant lately. Oh, he's still accessible, but I'm kind of worried about this talk about a new Watcher. I knew that he would have to eventually leave, since he's the most experienced, but I don't want him to. Instantaneous access to his vast collection of first-hand information on combating PDH's would be lost if he left us. Certainly, he replacement will bring an interesting skillset, but I have modeled my own future career as a...a what? Is it possible the Watcher's Council might be interested in a freak like me? I might want to ask Mr. Harris about that later. And finally Beth. She never got her present. I've hidden it above what would be the soft palate in a human being. It should be resonably protected there. Although when I give it to her, it might look kind of gross. I have no idea how she might react to it. I hope it's in a good way. I'm logging off the network. I'll post as more becomes known. Post a comment in response: |
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