"Correct," emerged a basso profundo rumble, incongruous to the small frame ze adopted this instantiation. Screwball leaned forward and rested zir chin on hands clasped together with elbows on the table, a predatory gleam in zir eyes. "Inquiry: that burst, we think that's what upset the probability matrix?" This game quickly went offscript as the emcee was assassinated, and a white-and-red Maximal began a list of grievances.Ĭhak raised his right arm to sixty degrees while extending his index finger. Twenty minutes ago, this happened." The Captain nodded a fraction towards Screwball, and the space above the table came alive with images of one of the barbaric gladiatorial fights the Cybertronians seemed so drawn to. It was logged but didn't register as significant. 15 days ago-Sol days, before you ask, Chak-we detected a burst of cosmic radiation in the Cybertronian mesosphere. The Old Man was right, as always.Īs if nothing had happened, and Chak was confident Una and Screwball hadn't picked up on the psionic exchange, Captain Blix continued. A slight flicker of shame passed through his systems.
He felt Blix's eyes narrow and felt a wave of disapproval wash over him. Chak allowed the slightest hint of a smile. He felt a brief, irrational urge to ask what had changed, but vetoed it. His autonomics did not extend to the silicate-enhanced muscles of his face. Screwball, who never let an opportunity for theatrics slide, brought zir left index and middle finger to zir lower lip, open in a perfect O, though of course ze was the one who had brought Blix up to date in the first place. Cybertron's probability of war just went from 7.229 percent up to 96.068." Una let out a low whistle. "Chak, I know you dislike spending one minute more than you need to in 'Newtonspace'," the quotes practically visible in the air, "so I'll get right to the point. She cocked her head slightly and raised an eyebrow. Throw in her thickly kinked hair and eyes so brown as to be nearly black, and he almost wished he still had a natural endocrine system. The immaculate uniform of the Confederated Terran Colonial Fleet hugged her muscular frame. No points to either of them on their long-standing rivalry between circ'-enhanced and 'logicals. Una emerged from her quarters at the precise instant he emerged from his own, much smaller, designated personal space. Since their mission was to watchdog the Cybertronians, the mojo was probably neg-spin. The Captain had called the crew to the bridge.
Why look at stark, utilitarian walls when perception was a tweakable choice? He pulled on his brilliant white jumpsuit and reviewed what Screwball, the ship's AI, could share. Minimalist Newtonspace structures, which a subroutine in his skull skinned with rainforest imagery from Lake Nobunaga, his childhood home. Still, it pained him to feel the Chishiki umbilicus severed.Īfter taking a femto to reinitialize his optic subroutines, he glanced around his sparsely-decorated crèche. Naturally, he had left several quasi-sentient info-specters on the local yota and zettaspheres, so no one would notice his absence. Nonetheless, Chak was able to keep up with his social life of some 7.294 x 106 friends, acquaintances, former coworkers, former shipmates, former lovers, current lovers, fellow wine aficionados, fellow 22nd century ignis-jazz enthusiasts, fellow negative-gravity asteroid-jumpers, traditional chess players (rated level : amateur++ circ'-enhanced), 3D chess players (non-rated), the Saint Rand Alumni Association, the Ædificate Party of Kawkab Exxon-Google (reform branch), and his 43 book clubs. The system dated to the ship's last retrofit some 26 Ny Norge months ago, and was therefore, of course, hopelessly obsolete. The parallel autosequencer on board the Spooky Action at a Distance tied into the shared xonasphere of the systems of the Human Confederation via realtime quantum entanglement. Dropping into slow time always caused Chak a moment of disorientation.
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