Dr Scure Stories - Chapter 3
(Written by Ace Dreamer; posted 08 September 2012)
Dr Scure - Season Zero - 03/Jul/2012
Chapter 3
Bi-location
Eastercon, 2008, UK.
Sitting in a bar. Even at a science fiction convention. In a wheelchair that made you socially invisible. Yes, Brains was willing to admit. It was pretty lonely.
Things'd gone reasonably well. He'd had to hire a disabled-adapted van, as he usually did for cons; his old Bedford hadn't worked for years now, and he'd never got around to getting it fixed. Brainless clamped-down in the back as he'd driven down. No police cars stopped them for having an invisible driver, as he'd joked with Uran before they left, but he certainly wasn't letting Brainless drive.
He hoped leaving Uran to poke around the village, and surrounding area, invisible, wasn't going to have any long-term consequences.
Brainless'd seemed almost cheerful when they arrived. He'd picked up their con package from the desk, and pinned-on the badge, giving Brains a quick look as he did. Brains nearly protested, then realised Brainless would be the one people looked at.
Getting the dioramas set up in the Dealers Room went smoothly. No one seemed to notice that there were two, identical, heavily-built red-haired men in wheelchairs; they just walked around Brains, as usual. Though, Roger came in after they'd set-up, gave the pair of them a funny look, before turning to a customer.
Brains hung around a while. Brainless actually smiled, talking to someone, explaining the background to one of the SF dioramas. After a while he couldn't stand it any more, and wheeled-off to the bar.
Thinking about things, maybe Brainless was so unhappy, around him, because the two of them being there meant he couldn't be 'Brian'? That made some sense - his main reason for existence was to be a stand-in. For a moment Brains had the nasty notion that he just pretended to be non-sentient to wind him up...
"Brains?" A woman he half-recognised called across the bar to him, then swiftly strode in his direction. "I know you're pretty fast in that wheelchair, but we've just come straight from the Dealers Room. Wait here."
Brains heart sunk, as he watched her stride out of the room, then back in a minute later. "There's two of you! How'd you manage that?" And she stood there, tapping her foot on the carpet.
Maureen, as he saw her name badge said, obviously wasn't just going to go away. While waiting she looked over at a stocky man coming out of the loo. "Dave! Come over here and talk to Brains."
Dave looked around the bar, then ambled towards them. "Brains? Didn't we just see him in the Dealers Room?" And his gaze slid across Brains.
Brains remembered Dave, one of his better on-line friends. He'd a partner called 'Maureen'. Best as he remembered they worked together at a small biomedical research company. One of the few people he passed handwavium on to. Hadn't Dave said Maureen was unwell and not coming to the con?
"Here!" Maureen slapped the back of Brains wheelchair; definitely a social no-no. Dave blinked, then looked straight at Brains for the first time. "How did you get here so quickly, Brian?"
"That's just what I was asking him!" And Maureen raised her hands into the air in exasperation. Other fans in the bar were polite enough to do no more than glance over.
"I'm invisible. That's why I brought a visible version of myself as well." Maybe the truth would get him out of this? Dave went white. "You waved a copy of yourself? And it worked?" He slumped into a chair, put his hands over his face, and shook. Brains could tell he was resisting crying.
Maureen moved over, put one hand on Dave's shoulder, then started rubbing his back. She gave Brains one or two annoyed glances, but most of her attention was on Dave.
Brains sighed. Then stood up, his wheelchair folding to support his lower body, and stumped over to the bar. On the way one or two fans gave him admiring glances, and he caught at least one flash of a quick snap. Good job he was going to go live on the Moon.
Their story slowly came out as Dave and Maureen sipped their drinks. Brains was waiting for his toasted sandwich to arrive. Dave had taken the handwavium and fed it until he could wave-up all the medical instruments and testing tools he could imagine. A bio lab provided good enough containment facilities that waving involved little risk.
His prize piece was a replica of the human brain, that showed all the same readings as an unconscious adult one would, and responded to drugs in the same way. Obvious ethical issues prevented him going any further. Unfortunately his employers, while impressed by his enterprise, didn't think that they could sell instruments that you had to literally coax into working. The idea of needing to sing to, admittedly a fully comprehensive hand-portable, brain scanner wasn't on.
Then Maureen had her fatal accident. Dave's instruments showed she was totally dead, with only some residual brain activity, so he didn't think he had anything to loose. He kludged the brain scanner to transfer as much of her as was left into the synthetic brain. Then concealed her death while he built a steadily more functional body around it, organ by organ, part by part.
"I don't know how I did it", he admitted to Brains. "But I'm not doing it again. The nightmares have mostly stopped now, and I'm only going to do enough to keep Maureen healthy." "Probably still sell the instruments, but I've always fancied taking up farming. What do you think?"
Maureen gave Dave a 'we will be discussing this further' look.
"We're going, soon", and Maureen pointed up. "Will we see you?"
Eastercon: [1]
Deadly Weapons
Eastercon, 2008, UK.
He'd survived his encounter with Maureen and Dave. After Dave talked to him for a while the 'wheelchair invisibility' didn't seem to affect him any more. He wasn't sure why Maureen immediately saw him - maybe it was because she was sort of an AI? Uran and Brainless had no trouble, after all.
The talk by the "British Interplanetary Society" had been revealing. He'd expected more talk of handwavium, here at the con. There'd been some minor chat, and he'd heard some discussion of it being mass hysteria, or a minor blip in the laws of reality that would soon correct itself. Or, just the world's biggest hoax. The enthusiasts seemed to be keeping their heads down. Con security had made it quite clear that carrying functional non-peace-bonded weapons, of any sort, outside the Masquerade, would result in them being safety tested on the carrier.
So, they were now the "British Interstellar Society". The slide show of the planets, zooming-in from orbit to ground level, had been quite fun. The gas giants obviously didn't have a 'ground level', so various moons had been substituted. And, Pluto was included. Showing Earth all the way from orbit down to the North Pole, then the South Pole had been a bit novel.
"Look out, she's got a ray gun!" Not the normal sort of shout he'd expect in the hotel car park. He'd been out getting Brainless some more supplies for their table. People had been buying pre-painted figures and taken all the leaflets, and it looked like he'd some really nice orders.
There was a flash of light, and a "Ka-zap!", as he wheeled out from behind the van. As he looked around he realised something was different. He hadn't been a lightly-built female before, in a white plug suit. Yes, that was blue hair. But, he was still sitting in his wheelchair. Ah! That must have been a "Rei Gun".
A woman in a tight silver costume, showing a lot of skin, lumbered up to him. "Sorry, sorry! I didn't see you there!" 'It would be Kei', he thought, 'I expect Yuri is around somewhere'. He noticed she was wearing a fluorescent green headband, which clashed with her red hair. The voice sounded pretty accurate. 'Classic Dirty Pair', he thought.
Another woman popped-up from behind a car, further down the car park. "In The Name Of The Moon..." She stopped, and looked at Brains. "What's a Rei doing in a wheelchair? She's not wearing bandages." Sailor Moon was wearing a florescent red headband over her blonde hair, tucked underneath her pigtails. 'Odongos I think I'm supposed to call them', he thought.
'Hmm', thought Brains, 'she moves a bit better'. "Time out!" called a third woman, and they were joined by a number of more-or-less magical girls. Including more than one plug-suited Rei. Brains recognised the Leona costume, he was pretty sure he'd made it for someone to cos-play. All were wearing either red or green headbands (except for Rei). The shock was beginning to wear-off, now, and Brains found it interesting that they could all obviously see him (he didn't care if he looked like a Rei, he was still 'him'!).
"We caught a bystander in the cross-fire." Brains didn't recognise the speaker, probably one of the more recent manga or anime. While they all looked and sounded pretty authentic, some moved in ways that suggested they weighed quite a bit more than their character. 'I wonder if we have any Sailor Bubba here?', he thought.
The older woman, presumably one of the organisers, turned and looked at him. "We're sorry. The con security implied they'd have no problems with our game of 'Killer' as long as we stayed out of the con buildings. And no one complained." She tried puppy-dog eyes on him, "You aren't going to complain, are you?"
Something had been nagging at Brains for a while. A buzzing sound. Just on the limits of his hearing. He looked down, and plucked something previously invisible off his now reappeared clothes. Holding it close he saw a small bee-like machine, one wing crushed, with stylised crosses over where eyes might be expected.
Several of the women looked away from him, and seemed puzzled. Some kept on looking but frowned, and only the ones that'd spoken to him seemed unaffected. "Where did the Rei go?", asked one at the back. 'I guess that was a light-bee', thought Brains.
"If you don't mind me holding on to this", and he held up the faux insect, "I won't be making any complaints". "Those aren't cheap!", someone called, but was subdued by a glare. "Maybe if you keep an eye on the various entrances you won't 'ka-girl' anyone else", he continued. "OK?"
"Leona?" and the woman in that costume turned to him, obviously only now recognising him. "I see you liked the costume I made for you."
And, she blushed.
BIS: [2] BIS: [3] Killer: [4] Light Bee: [5] Ka-girl: [6]
Parental Guidance
Early Spring, 2008, Earth.
Uran wasn't sure if she was more bored or frustrated. She'd explored most of the area around Brains' village home. Both on foot, and from the air.
Invisibility was nice, only animals and birds seemed to notice her. Flight meant that only the insides of buildings was closed to her. Though, she wasn't sure about intruding on people's privacy. Was it wrong only if they knew someone'd been there? That didn't seem quite right.
Chasing cats and dogs while invisible could be fun. She even chased a squirrel. But, she couldn't be sure they realised it was a game, not something more deadly. Pigeons, she decided, were fair game.
She'd tried playing with the few children, in 'recreational areas'. But, even though she was visible, didn't do anything non-human, and was pretty sure she'd got her appearance right, they seemed reluctant. Maybe because they didn't know her?
Adults either ignored her, or watched her carefully. Her one foray into the village shop, with some 'pocket money' Brains gave her, to buy a 'nice postcard'. Mrs Jones had been polite, but pressed her to talk about her parents, where she lived. While she was nice, Uran could tell she didn't like the answer, 'nearby', and Uran's return inquiry about Mrs Jones parents, who were apparently 'long gone'.
She'd found where a vixen with her cubs lived, flown and looked at birds nests from above, danced among the tops of trees. Even gone so high the sky started to turn black, and the stars could be seen in daylight (while arguably, on a horizontal basis, 'staying near the village'). Fun, but not something you wanted to spend more than an hour or so doing.
She could play with Brains a bit. Brainless was... strange. She didn't think he disliked her, was more... neutral. When she joked or teased he just looked at her, or nodded, then ignored her. She wasn't completely sure, but she thought he could sense her in some way when she was invisible. When she asked Brains, he said he hadn't put anything like that into Brainless. Some sort of quirk?
Reading helped. Brains had loads of books and graphic novels, and quite a lot of manga - some in Japanese. Then there was his video and anime collection. He'd plugged in a Bluetooth headphone adapter, and her comms let her to listen through that, without the sound bothering anyone else. Brains taste in music didn't appeal to her. Her comms also let her listen and watch both analogue and digital radio and TV channels, but unless she was alone it seemed a bit rude.
Study. She was still exploring the limits of what she knew - it was very uneven, in some ways. College or degree-level technical stuff, particularly science and engineering, she could work her way through. Social sciences, politics, history, was far more hard going. Languages, apart from English and Japanese, she was currently leaving alone.
Poking around on the Internet could be interesting, but also endlessly frustrating, as she missed the references (she wasn't wasting hours looking them up). Pop culture, sport and celebrities, she knew practically nothing about. For interest she'd skinned children's TV – some of it was clever, even ingenious, but when she found herself trying to analyse the motivations and moral structures of the characters she knew it was time to stop.
As her, sort of, parental figure, she'd pressed Brains for permission to go further afield. The Lego 'Bionicle' robots had scared her. They were living in woods and a part-abandoned industrial estate, on the edge of the nearest town. And, fighting a small war between them. They looked to be digging-in for the long term.
Agonising, she'd informed Brains, who suggested she look them up on-line - the business of them 'having souls' bothered her even more; did she have one? Brains contacted a number of local gaming and science fiction groups, by phone and email. He didn't get directly involved.
Someone had boasted of waving 'cool stuff' at more than one venue. A bit of verbal arm twisting and discussions about sentient rights. Brains'd been told all the robots had been rounded-up, and sent up to an interested party in Fenspace. He hadn't inquired about the details.
What really worried Uran, was that she could've been like those robots. Lost in her own little world. She wasn't human - what if someone decided they'd the right to reprogram her brain? Have her destroyed as 'dangerous'?
She didn't know who she was. Yes, she was Uran, Brains 'little sister', but she needed to be more. She'd be human, even though she had a robot body. She'd go places, learn, study. After all, she could fly!
House Raising
Mid Spring, 2008, Luna.
Can you raise a house on the Moon? If most of the bits come from Earth, is that a 'house falling'? That doesn't make much sense. But, if the Moon's above the Earth, it might still be 'raising'.
This and other nonsense went through Brains head, as he sat on the Lunar surface, looking at where home would be. On land he owned. On the Far Side of the Moon.
He'd spent nearly two months, over-working to get his plans and materials ready, since his 'day trip' up here. Fortunately these days he'd the help of Brainless, who honestly seemed to enjoy the more structured (dare he say 'simpler'?) bits. Though he'd almost nudged him out of his cottage workshop, to the one on the 'SS Champ'.
He'd come up with a new variety of 'paint'. This took transparent mylar film used for a lot of his work and both strengthened it and made it convert about 25% of the light passing through it into electricity, while still making it almost invisible. UV and IR too. He'd treated the mylar pressure dome, the one he'd used to avoiding waving the clay pit, with this. After tests he thought it ready for Moon duty.
Resources was a major problem. Theoretically handwavium must be capable of transmutation of elements, one reason he thought it was benevolent femtotech. But, that was a can of worms he wouldn't open, just for his own convenience. The results could be so horribly messy that it'd make juggling anti-matter look user-friendly.
The big problems were nitrogen, for his air, and carbon. Oxygen was no problem. Hydrogen was solvable if that mythical Lunar water was actually exploitable. Otherwise it was asteroid mining time. That'd give him water ice, and carbon, and he could hope enough nitrogen. In the short-term he'd enough power to distil nitrogen out of Earth's atmosphere, and bottle it, or stock-up on ammonium nitrate. And charcoal.
He'd waved the 'Recyclosaurus'. Sometimes handwavium seemed to like silly things, and this was one of them. An immense vegetarian dinosaur head and neck, currently attached to a bare frame robot body. Uran called it "Nom Nom", and insisted it was male. He'd just slot in the cargo hatch of the 'SS Champ' and his chemical 'stomachs' reprocessed just about anything he ate, into useful feed-stocks.
Brains hadn't much use for Titanium, Aluminium, Magnesium, or even much Iron, at the moment, but something would probably come up. Some nice stone walls for the garden were worth thinking about, and he'd need to make his own soil. Plants in tubs would be a good start.
He looked over at the faint distortion where Nom Nom had been dug into the lunar regolith. He seemed to be making good progress, the measures to stop lunar dust wrecking his works were holding. That'd been a pain to fix. The stuff got in everywhere.
Nom Nom's companions, the twin giant Beaver robot builders were doing well. Following behind they took processed material and built then sealed underground walls. Brains had named them 'Castor' and 'Pollux', but Uran said one should be called 'Teddy', though she wouldn't explain why.
A few more hours and they could seal the area where the dome was going to be raised, and stop relying on stored power. The ship itself generated some power, of course, from energy it absorbed rather than diverted around, and the newly installed image system could provide a trickle, too. Neither had a big enough cross-section, though. Until he got the deep heat sinks installed this place'd show-up like an infra-red beacon to anyone who scanned it from orbit. It was a risky time.
Uran had offered to help with the work. But, the first part was mostly supervision, and he'd prefer to give her opportunity to play, rather than be bored. He thought she was finishing reading "Harry Potter", at the moment. Dipping into engineering and technical works when she wanted some diversion. She seemed a competent programmer, but the subject didn't seem to interest her, in general. Vehicles also didn't seem to catch her fancy, so she probably wouldn't become a 'Gearhead'.
'Ting!' This time, unlike on the day trip, he'd brought a way to communicate with the others. The display showed Pollux was saying they'd completed the first, outer, circle. It'd seemed sensible not to make them too smart, and that'd worked so far.
Time to go down into the basement...
