1. My name change poll is leaning slightly for my real name (and I haven't even voted yet...) so I am wondering what individual voted "Noooooo!" on there. Dying with curiosity, almost literally.
started another one. I realized the homepage of my blog can be very
daunting at time especially now that I post three times a day. Should I
opt for using See More buttons so that everything that is new each day
can show up on a single screen without scrolling way down?
you begin your work on whatever it is you are doing. You are free to
set your hours, but I advise you to keep up a steady stream of progress
if you want to,"
Nic finished for him, "live."
The representative smiled fully, "Yes, that's a good way to put it." He left the apartment after leaving behind a business card, "In case you ever need to contact me."
The statesman waved his hand in front of a censor to the right of the door, and with a green circle and bright little chirp the door opened quickly, sealing behind him as soon he left. Nic snickered, "In case I ever want another Unionist around, I'll be sure to keep him on the top of my list." The door was eerily familiar to Nic; he'd have to fix that.
In his apartment he found some basic tools, most particularly a universal screwdriver. It was a curious invention, made while Nic was on Mars, which could retract it's head into the handle, where it would be reformed into another head if needed. One just had to point the thing at a screw and it would form the right head.
Nic unscrewed the control panel for the door. The wiring was similar to his Martian version. Reaching around inside he found the main motherboard. They hadn't left him the programming disk, so he would have to take the manual road. He pressed the tiny buttons on the massive chip by memory, trying to find how to change the sound the door would make. He hated hearing his Martian chirp of freedom while he was in prison under forced labor.
He finally got that part of the code in, but then he needed a new sound to input. He didn't have any on memory chips. He didn't have any of those anyway. Then he had an idea. He set the motherboard aside and went to his box of orders.
He had no particular desire to read that ridiculous sentence to the box, even if nothing else would hear him. Taking up the screwdriver again he removed the little computer that controlled the lock on the box from the metal face. Crossing a few wires he succeeded in shorting out the mechanism, and the locks opened the box straightway.
The next step took him nearly an hour, but Nic never noticed time passing while science was being done, unless it was going too slow. An hour of wiring and snipping and soldering later, he had wired the microphone of the locked box into the door.
Nic spoke into the microphone, giving it the sound for opening the door, "The scientist grants you permission to pass."
He heard the machine speak it back to him. He smiled.
He did some similar work to change the sound for when access was denied. He said into the microphone, "I am pleased to inform you that I do not want you passing that door."
Nic laughed gleefully to himself. He was having too much fun doing this. He knew exactly what his main off-hours occupation would be: fixing all the doors so that he controlled the access.
After his first little prank, Nic wandered the floor that had was now his sole domain. Not quite as big as Mars, but big enough to do some good science. He had a control room that was arranged very similarly to his on Mars, though without his customized software. There was a blast-resistant testing chamber, complete with robotic arms to do the work around the explosives. Unionists were just pansies. They had obviously never experienced the thrill of mixing together two explosive chemicals and then trying to run before they went off. Not that Nic had done that much, but it had been fun as a kid.
There was a small eating chamber, with food that would be pumped in through shafts from the basement floor, where all the menial, non-science work was done. Yes, there was everything he would need in here.
Nic went to the computer and immediately made requisition for all the information that had been recovered from or about his base. Then he went to work recreating that computer virus his genius assistants had made last time. If the United wanted weapons, that would be a good one to start with. Besides, he wasn't perfectly comfortable with recreating Red Rain. Too much death involved. Maybe the United would be content with some of the rest of his arsenal.