Matthew S. Williams's Blog, page 168

Sample Chapter – Pappa Zulu

Hey, Whiskey Delta fans! How y’all doing? Last week, I finished work on Whiskey Delta and announced that I would be following it up with a sequel. I believe I even promised a sample or two for those who were still looking to read about some more zombie-smashing! Well it just so happens I’ve written a sample chapter for the upcoming sequel and wanted to share it with you. It’s still a green chapter, taken from the general context of the book, and I’d like to know from you if it’s any good.

Specifically, this chapter is from the early part of the novel, where the attack that the Mage has been fearing finally comes. I’ve decided to share it with you since it is intrinsic to the entire tone of the novel and will determine what the first half of the novel will be all about. If it’s a good romp and full of enough excitement and suspense, then I shall run with it as is. If not, it means nothing more than replanning and replotting. But that’s what sampling is all about.

So please, be brutal, be honest, and be assured that you’re feedback will go a long way to helping this next novel take shape. What do you think should be different about the next story? What should stay the same? What worked and needs to be repeated? And what added tidbits would you like to see happen? And with all that said, here’s Pappa Zulu!

*               *               *

“Men rise from one ambition to another: first, they seek to secure themselves against attack, and then they attack others.”

-Niccolo Machiavelli

It was the strangest thing, looking up at the sky and being so perplexed by seeing it filled with objects and human bodies. Somehow, the mind always took it for granted that when it looked up, all it would see were clouds and empty sky. To see so many things hovering before your eyes, especially attack jets and troop planes, was nothing short of stupefying.

They were everywhere. Every which way they looked, the sky was filled with planes, chutes, and men dropping to the ground. The larger Hercs arced overhead, deploying troops and materiel out their back doors. The fast-movers cut across from above, their wings and engines making terrible noise as they sliced through the air.

The base’s general siren was wailing. All around the grounds, people were running from their barracks and hangar bays to see what was going on. Outside the walls, more people were leaving the cover of their houses and watching with general alarm and awe. Braun wanted to shout out to them, to tell them to get back inside. If those planes began to let loose their ordinance, they would all die. And as soon as the paratroopers boots hits the ground, anyone standing out in the open would present a tempting target. But they were too far away, and his voice had caught somewhere in his throat and wasn’t responding.

Like the entire company, he was stuck in the midst of the powerful display.

The radio was the only thing talking. The voice on the receiver loudly proclaiming the obvious:

“This is Warlock to all Rattlesnakes in the area. We are under attack by armed hostiles. I repeat, we are under attack by armed hostiles! All friendlies in the area be advised. Warlock has been compromised. I repeat, Warlock has been compromised.”

“Shit, sir,” said Ramirez from the driver’s seat. “We really seeing this? Is this real?”

Braun reached down and grabbed hold of his SCAR. He chambered a round and grabbed hold of the mike from the squawk box.

“Real as it gets, Private. Be ready to move.”

“Yes, sir.”

Braun switched over to the squad frequency and signaled the entire company. “Viper Actual to all Vipers. We are Oscar Mike. We are proceeding to Warlock and dispatching any and all hostiles in the area.”

He switched back over to the base frequency just as the first vehicle in their convoy began to move. The voice on the frequency was still issuing the general alert, but orders began to follow after a few seconds. Braun looked at the box incredulously as it came in.

“All friendly forces in the area are ordered to assemble at the following pre-designated coordinates. Sierra-Foxtrot, five-nine-four. I repeat, Sierra-Foxtrot-”

“Sir?” Ramirez said. “Did HQ just tell us to turn tail?”

Sierra-Foxtrot, the code book designation for the compound in Santa Fe. He nodded heavily as there was no denying it. They had been caught with their pants down and now the Mage was calling for a general retreat. Clearly, he was operating under the assumption that the entire Brigade was still deployed. He couldn’t know they were in the vicinity and able to do something…

“Sir?” Ramirez said. There convoy was still moving, and towards town, in defiance of their new orders. Braun shook his head.

“They don’t know we’re here. We can still help.” He keyed the mike.“Warlock, this is Viper Actual. We are in the area and monitoring the situation. We have eyes on the enemy and are able to assist, over.”

The reply they got was less than enthused.

“Viper Actual, you are ordered to fall back to secure location and await further orders. Do not attempt engagement with hostile forces at this time, over.”

Braun blinked hard. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did they really just expect them to turn tail and run? He couldn’t for the life of him believe these orders were coming from the Mage. Someone further down the line had to be issuing them, and was making a bad call. He keyed the mike once more.

“Warlock, interrogative. What is the status of Rattlesnake Actual, over?”

Another pause. “Rattlesnake Actual is engaged and unable to respond. You have your orders. Fall back to designated rally point and avoid HQ at all costs. Colonel Haynes has command and will be directing operations, over.”

“Shit,” Braun said, hanging up the mike.

Ramirez brought the vehicle to a stop. The others in front of them proceeded onward until they noticed the Lieutenant’s Humvee putting in at the side of the road. The box began to crackle again, this time with the other squads wanting to know what was happening. Braun was too busy staring at Ramirez to answer right away.

“What the fuck are you doing, Private?”

“Sir, they ordered us to turn around,” he said sheepishly. Braun continued to stare angrily at him, but couldn’t countermand that simple fact. They had been given their orders and they had been clear, regardless of whether or not they were coming from the Mage himself. For a moment, he sat there, watching the terrible scene unfold and unable to respond to the mounting calls of distress over his vehicle’s radio.

In time, Saunders came running up the road, following close behind by several other NCO’s. By the time they reached his door, he had begun to pull himself together again. The Company needed their CO, and he needed to have his head on straight if he was going to lead them. Now was not the time to be disappearing up his own ass.

“Sir,” said Saunders, flanked by Rickson and Tate. “What’s the word from HQ?”

Braun looked at Ramirez warily. He half-expected the young private to jump in and tell them what the order of the day had been. The Private seemed to be good for that today. But he knew enough to keep his mouth shut. Good for him. And it wasn’t;t as if he could lie about it either. Looking back to them, Braun let them have it:

“We’ve been ordered to fall back to Santa Fe. Colonel Hayes is taking command of the Brigade. HQ is compromised and we’re to treat it as a lost cause.”

The three of them all issued cries of dismay at once. Things along the “What?!” and “Are you fucking kidding me?!” variety.

“We’ve been caught with out pants down people. Command doesn’t want us risking our lives on some last-minute rescue op. The Colonel will no doubt be planning a counter-attack once we get there.”

“Sir,” Rickson interjected. “Are we really going to abandon the Mage like this? Whatever happened to leave no man behind?”

Braun shook his head. He was not in the mood to argue, especially where orders he didn’t even agree with were concerned. “No choice, people. Orders come down the line for a general retreat. We gotta follow it.”

“Bullshit,” said Saunders. Braun looked at her, bald-eyed.

“I beg your pardon?” Saunders cleared her throat and tried again, in a measured, civilized tone this time.

“Sir, if we fall back now, who knows what will happen to the Mage. Who the hell knows who these guys are, what they want? We fall back, we abandon everyone in that town and our HQ to their fate. Are we really going to do that? We’re not even going to try?”

Braun took a deep breath. He could feel the urge to spit building in him. Telling them to run as ordered was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth and making him want to bite some heads off. But the counter-urge, to say to hell with their orders and join them in what they were suggesting, that was hard to deny too. Unfortunately, the desire to do his duty was also weighing in, and it had the upper hand.

You’re the fucking CO, it said to him. You don’t make decisions based on you’re personal feelings. Tell these people to shut up and get ready to move!

“What would you have us do, Sergeant?” he said to Saunders. “Charge in, risk our lives like fools? Endanger whatever hope we have of mounting a successful counter-attack later?”

“No…” she said finally. For a moment, it looked like the matter had been settled and dropped. Luckily, Rickson still had some points to make which could help tip the scales in their favor.

“Sir, you said yourself we have no idea who these people are. An attack might not be the smartest thing, but a recon wouldn’t the stupidest either.”

“He’s right,” agreed Tate. “The Colonel will want to know everything he can about this threat before we report back to him. Besides, we’re the farthest elements north right now. No one can expect us to get south before the rest.”

“A few prisoners might come in handy too. They’re dropping in all over the place. Ought to be easy to snag if we approach carefully.”

Braun eye’s brightened. Rickson was right, that wasn’t the stupidest idea in the world. He could even feel a slight smile forming on his face. He looked to Saunders, who was beginning to do the same. His eyes brightened even further when another thought occurred to him, one which made about as much sense as the rest.

“There have to be elements within the city that are looking to retreat too, but they’ll be cut off. Who knows? Maybe the Mage is with them…” He let that thought percolate, began to feel his legs itch as he realized they were wasting time trying to justify their actions and not doing them. “If the opportunity arises, we might even help some of our boys break out and retreat south with us.”

Rickson nodded. “Could come in handy later. We’ll need every warm body we can get if we’re going to take back the base.”

Saunders was now smiling brightly at him. It was the look of a grunt who was pleasantly surprised to see her commander was coming through after all.

“Our orders didn’t specify immediate withdrawal,” he said finally. “And I think we’ve just been cut off from making a steady retreat and need to find an alternate route.”

Saunders put her rifle on her shoulder. “Would a route through the edge of town suffice, sir?”

Braun smiled and nodded. “It would, Sergeant. Get back to your vehicle. You’re squad is in the lead.”

Snapped out a salute. “Yes, sir.” Tate and Rickson snapped their own and proceeded to follow her back to their Humvees. When Braun returned to his, he found a shaky looking private manning the wheel and peering at him sideways.

“Wheel up, Private. We’re diverting course to take us around the edge of town.”

“Yes, sir,” he said warily, putting it back into Drive. Braun smiled to himself.

He can inform on me later, he thought. The war was far from over, and Haynes would have plenty of chances to court-martial his ass. Right now, they had bigger fish to fry, and possibly a few asses to save!

The Future Is Here: Bionic Hands!

Behold, the latest in bionic technology! The bebionic 3 model prosthetic hand, by the RSL Steeper company! Encased in an aluminum chassis, boasting improved electronics, a redesigned thumb, and new motors that increase the power grip, this hand was first unveiled at the American Orthotic Prosthetic Association (AOPA) Conference in Boston this past September. Since that time, amputees have been obtaining the hand and incorporating it into their daily lives. And the results are quite encouraging!

In addition to being able to do delicate work, like handle eggs and fine china without breaking them, the hand is also capable of performing a power grip that is capable of generating 31.5 pounds of force. That’s quite the Kung Fu grip, just in case you were wondering. And in “hook” mode, the hand is able to bear a load of 99 pounds. So, though it doesn’t have quite the same dexterity or free range of motion as an organic hand, the bebionic is capable of performing all the basic tasks, and is pretty powerful to boot!

Much like the bionic leg which was popularized by Zak Vawter’s historic climb last weekend, the bebionic works by reading the nerve impulses from the wearer’s arm skin. These are amplified by the arm’s electronics and translated into one of 14 possible grip configurations. These different grips are uploaded to the hands internal memory and users are able to cycle through them to determine which grip they want for which purpose. For instance, a mouse-clicking action makes the thumb grip a mouse, while the index finger clicks the left button. The “precision open grip” can be used to grab small objects and the “tripod grip” can be used to write with a pen.

Currently, and depending on its configuration, the hand costs clinical centers between $25,000 and $35,000. In time, and as it becomes available for public purchase, the price is likely to come down somewhat. Still, such a revolutionary device will not come cheap for many years to come. It also comes available in a range of colors and designs, including snow and jungle camouflage and tiger stripes, as well as realistic silicone skin coverings. See the video below for some examples.

Combined with other advances in the field of bionics and prosthetic devices, the bionic hand presents some new and very exciting possibilities. For one, technologies like ReWalk and other exoskeletons are making it possible for paraplegics to walk again, while sophisticated wheelchairs like the wheelchairbot are making stairs and obstacles passable. Coupled with bionic limbs that are giving full ambulatory motion back to amputees, we could be looking at a future where robotic enhancements can restore any and all ability to accident victims, combat veterans and people born with physical deformities.

In addition, the most audacious developments, such as bionic enhancements or robot chairs that read brain waves directly, giving full motion to quadriplegics and the ability to communicate fully to people with degenerative conditions is still yet to come! Once such technologies are readily available and commercially viable, we might even be seeing the emergence of a cybernetics industry, where people can receive enhancements that not only restore abilities, but greatly enhance them. Artificial limbs the enhance strenght and speed, artificial eyes that enhance vision and provide projected images and augmented reality displays, and even silicate implants that enhance brain function and make people smarter.

Homo Superior people… I just got goosebumps!

And while we’re waiting on all that to happen, check out this promo video for the latest bebionic model:

And here’s a video of the bebionic going through a battery grip pattern tests:

Etemenanki – Chapter 3

“Make yourself comfortable, Rain. Can I offer you refreshment?”

“Coffee,” Rainlin replied, walking towards Calvin’s desk. “Black.”

Calvin proceeded to the dispensary on the wall and punched in an order to two heaping cups. A thick, black solution poured forth seconds later, a somewhat less-than-choice serving of the locally harvested beans and recycled water.

“Have a seat please,” Calvin said, stretching his hand to the seats positioned in front of his desk.

“I’ll stand for now. Better view that way.”

Calvin chuckled. “It reminds me what I do what I do. And who I’m answerable to.”

Of that I have no doubt, Rainlin thought. Proceeding past Calvin’s desk to the far wall, he stood next to the panoramic window that overlooked the Municipal Sector. Along the skyline, the band that lined the outer ring that reached around the city’s mid-section and admitted external light, he spotted hovercraft and other, lighter-frame flyers that moved back and forth. Delivering courier items and messages that were considered too important to be dispatched using the Babel messaging services.

So much business done in the name of keeping Etemenanki running. Looking across at the many lights that dotted the massive buildings, he wondered if the people occupying them felt at all unnerved by the presence of the ICE building across from them. Certainly no one within those edifices had anything to fear from the agency’s Icemen, but they still had been known to make people nervous.

The clinking of cups behind him made him realize his coffee was ready. He walked to the offered seat and took it at last. Calvin meanwhile sat down at his desk and began punching some keys on its central console.

“So… you wanted to know how we came across the Intruders network…” he looked up from the console. “Care to guess how we came upon their communications?”

Rainlin took a sip from his cup and frowned, in part because he was thinking but also because of the coffee’s bitter flavor.

“If I had to guess, I’d say they were sending communications to those on the outside. Letting them know they had people in place.”

“Quite correct,” Calvin replied, hitting another key. A holographic appeared above the desk that showed a series of radio waves, each one numbered and tagged. The letters IC and a numerical designate was attached to each one. From what he could see, there had been four.

 ”These are the transmissions that came from outside. The first was from Old Chitown, then the source shifted to Eire-on-the-lake. The third  came the old Motor district, and then they returned back to their original location to broadcast the last. Clearly, whoever was sending them didn’t want to be discovered.”

Rainlin’s eyes widened. The transmissions suddenly appeared very interesting to him.

“Eloquent sign of organization, wouldn’t you say? Discipline too. Whoever sent them knows what they are doing. But then again, they’d have to if they were managing to get people inside and handing them convincing IDents.”

Rainlin frowned again. “If these came from the outside, how do you have them? Isn’t that the province of the External Affairs Commission.”

Calvin chuckled bitterly. “Yes, indeed. EAC came into possession of these and handed them over. You should have seen the look on their faces. I swear they only shared them to witness our embarrassment that someone had agents working within our walls.”

Rainlain rolled his eyes. Yes, EAC and ICE had been known to be a little at odds on most things. Even thought they were part of the same general organization, departmental competition always seemed to creep up wherever possible.

“In any case, the transmissions, when unscrambled – a relatively easy task, admittedly – indicated that just two more agents were being put into place. Once that was finished, their mission was a go.”

“What’s the mission?”

Calvin spread his hands before him. “That’s what we’re trying to find out. We’ve all but located the individual operatives, it’s just a matter of finding out where they’re hiding between using their ID’s. However, the real mystery is cracking the network that got them inside, armed them with said ID’s, and is working towards destabilizing our way of life here.”

Rainlin finished his coffee and grimaced. “You sound like a candidate for the position of Director, Cal.”

“And why shouldn’t I?” he said without a trace of humor. “I can remember a time when you took our city’s security seriously.”

That was before I got the benefit of experience, he wanted to say. But what would be the point? His resignation from the service said as much.

“Besides,” Calvin proceeded. “Given the level of organization, the number of people involved here, we can only assume that whoever is leading these people has spent a great deal of time and energy coming this far. I can only assume what it is they intend to do. But I won’t lie when I say its gives me serious pause.”

Once again, Rainlin didn’t reply. He didn’t want to let on that after seeing all he had, he would be inclined to agree. He know understood just why Calvin had chanced to meet him at such an inappropriate time and gone to the lengths he had to show him what they knew. It was also patently obvious why he would offer him, someone he had little love for, his old job.

He was afraid. Like any man who knew something was coming, but not what, or from what direction, he was feeling the pressure. When circumstances like that came about, you left no stone unturned. Still, he wanted to hear it from his lips.

“And why do you need me to help?”

Calvin smiled again, but in a way that seemed menacing this time.

“Because you know your way around the city. You were born in the Commons, worked in the Base, and now reside in the Spire. If there’s anyone who understands the full nature of this place and its people, it’s you. And you’re experience, while it may have led to your departure, certainly gave you valuable insight into the minds of Intruders. People like that are rare in this business. Most of our agents have a hard time seeing beyond their own lives, their own training, and people in the field can smell that on them. An Intruder knows to avoid such people.”

Rainlin nodded. All apt reasons, to be sure. “Anything else?”

Calvin smile disappeared entirely. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

Rainlin shrugged.

“Fine. You’re record was also impeccable. No one has achieved the same record of arrests as you since you’re departure. I want you back because… I need you.” He let the words hang in the air for a moment, no doubt so he could get the ugly taste out of his mouth. “There? Satisfied now?”

Rainlin considered the question and was surprised by what he found. “As a matter of fact, yes. I think I might give your offer due consideration, just for that.”

Calvin’s response was modest, but a hint of a smile graced his lips again. Though barely noticeable, it seemed strangely more real than any of the false beaming he had done all day. The remainder of their meeting was spent discussing such tiresome matters as conditions and incentives; but when Rainlin finally left the ICE building, he actually felt pleased that he had chosen to come after all.

*                         *                         *

Rainlin sat himself down in the overstuffed chair. At his command, some gentle music filled the air and provided a little background accompaniment to his thoughts. He allowed for as few as possible, as his mind had endured enough emotional and intellectual stimuli for one day. The glass clinked in his hand, the ice cubes tapping the crystalline edges of the glass and watering down the whiskey contained within.

“You’d have to be a fool,” he said to himself, eying the dancing tableau on the ceiling. Based on his recorded preferences, it chose to assemble a montage of classical battles, armored Hoplites doing battle with Roman Centurions in slow motion. The image transitioned now and again to more modern displays, soldiers running through concrete jungles and firing off archaic rifles. And finally, things changed again to more… romantic imagery. Women in Spire-like fashion performing sex acts with handsome partners.

He shook his head. Watch a few adult vids and the household system assumed you were a pornographer. It was a fortunate thing that each system was automated and overseen by a discreet AI. Otherwise, certain people might believe him to be an unworthy resident.

He sat up and removed himself from the den. On the veranda, the light was beginning to fade, the sun setting in the west and no longer able to provide natural illumination to opulent Spire estates. Within minutes, the fine shadows that were cast by all the greenery became purple shrouds, the nighttime lights and dancing fireflies providing light to see by now.

He took a deep breath and sucked in the fresh air. The fine, ozone rich air still blew, replenished by the countless green space that lay between estate blocks, and fortified with the scent of sweet grass and blossoms. Even the most elementary of students knew that the air was nothing more the result of internal pressure differences, assisted by several turbines in the city’s long shafts. But that didn’t make it feel any less natural or replenishing.

The change of scenery didn’t quell the one unavoidable thought he had in mind.

“You would have to be… an idiot… to leave all this behind.”

As he said it, he noticed the few people who appeared to be sitting out on the own verandas. The smell of some cook fires raised to meet him. Backyard food processing was somewhat of a novelty, catching on amidst those who felt that they were roughing it and engaging in a primordial ritual that brought them closer to their roots. They were an occasion to gather, Rainlin knew. People came from other residences and brought food to compliment the meal, which seemed to resolve around burnt meat. People drank, ate, and enjoyed the hospitality of their host.

Rainlin had never been invited to one.

Finishing his drink in one draught, he walked back inside and into his den. However unexpectedly, stepping outside for just a few minutes had provided some perspective for his decision. He summoned the household AI and issued an order.

“Rainmaker,” he said, using the company nickname he had conferred on the system. He expected to would no need for it anymore and felt it wa s appropriate to pass it on. The AI chimed in, addressing him with its pleasant, basso voice.

“How may I be of service, sir?”

“A message for the residence of Michelle Rainlin. Private and top-priority.”

He waited while Rainmaker established contact with the Commons communication network, selected her service and prepped for recording. “Ready, sir.”

“Hello mother. Lovely service today. Sorry about our fight. I just wanted to let you know, I’ve been given an opportunity that will be taking me away from my residence up here for awhile. Feel free to leave any messages here, just know that I won’t be able to reply for a few weeks time.” He paused for a second, summoning up the nerve to say the final sign-off. “Yours, your loving son, Michael.”

The AI chimed again. “Message sent, sir.”

“Good…” he began to pace slowly. He would need another drink he knew, and went back to the dispenser to refill his glass. He waited for the thick, golden liquid to cease flowing before reaching into his pocket to retrieve the slip Calvin had given him. “New contact,” he read the numbers off the sheet. “Message only. And audio too, no visuals.”

More chimes. “Ready, sir.”

“Cal. It’s me… I’m in. Expect me at your doorstep tomorrow morning. Not early. I plan to get drunk.” He raised the glass to his mouth and contemplated erasing that last bit. He decided it was fine as it was and took a sip of stinging whiskey. “Send.”

Aliens: Colonial Marines

As a big fan of the Alien franchise and someone who’s enjoyed just about every AVP game there is, I can honestly say that I am eagerly awaiting the release of this game! For years now, gamers have been getting a taste of combat with xenomorphs and hunters thanks to the AVP franchise, but this promises to be purer in nature.

In short, you’re a human being hunting the most dangerous creature in the universe, no fuss, no muss. And Pulse Guns, Smartguns, Flame Throwers and grenades are your weapons, hopefully with a little assistance from some M577 APC’s, a few UD-4L Cheyenne Dropships and maybe even some of them big power loaders!

Another aspect of the Aliens experience which this game appears to be improving on is the squad combat feature. Whereas in all the previous incarnations of AVP, you were forced to play solo for the vast majority of the game, this time around there appears to be better AIs and group play at work.

This is good seeing as how Colonial Marines are not meant to fight alone, and the explanations for how and why you kept finding yourself fighting solo in the games got pretty tiresome after awhile!

According to Steam, the game is set for release in February of 2013. Just a few months away, and in the meantime, enjoy the preview! I think you’ll agree, it’s pretty cinematic in nature.

Microchips Made With DNA!

It seems IBM is deep at work developing a revolutionary new method for assembling microchips. This process will involve using self-assembled DNA nanostructures to create microchips and chip components. Or, to put it more dramatically, DNA would be used as a sort of “origami”, serving as a sort of scaffolding in the arrangement of nanotubes and allowing the company to develop microchips that are smaller and much less expensive to produce.

But of course, the long-term goal is much more ambitious. According to Greg Wallraff, a scientist working with IBM, the “goal is to use these structures to assemble carbon nanontubes, silicon nanowires, quantum dots. What we are really making are tiny DNA circuit boards that will be used to assemble other components.” In short, this could be not only a step towards bioassembly, nanotechnology, and even quantum computing.

For some time now, scientists have been experimenting with DNA as an assembler for microcircuits. One such individual is Paul W. K. Rothemund, a research associate at the California Institute of Technology, who developed DNA origami back in 2006. This involved taking a long strand of viral DNA, putting into a 2 or 3-D shape, and then holding it together with shorter strands of DNA. In this way, he was able to create shapes such as triangles, stars and smiley faces, according to his Caltech Web site.

Based on this process, complex DNA nanostructures are made in solution and then applied to surfaces which have designated “sticky spots” to ensure that they hold a specific configuration. Once the scaffold is in place, molecules of polymer, metal and other materials can then be guided into place, assembled from the cellular level outward. According to Rothemund, there are still some problems that need to be worked out and it is likely to be another 10 years before the process is entirely viable.

Still, for enthusiasts of bioware, biotech, and nanotechnology, this is exciting news. To know that we could be just ten years away from components assembled by nanostructures composed of living material, a stepping stone towards machinery composed entirely of DNA structures or nanomachines themselves… like I said, exciting!

Source: findingdulcinea.com

The Future is Here: Mind-Controlled Prosthetics

This past weekend, amputee Zak Vawter stood at the foot of Chicago’s Willis Tower with the intention of scaling its 103 flights. The purpose of this historic climb was simple, to test out a new bionic leg which may very be the way of the future. Unlike previous prosthetics, this limb is actually controlled by the user’s mind. Thanks to Vawter’s determination, and a little help from the bionic limb, the climb went off without a hitch!

Vawter, who lost his leg in a motorcycle accident in 2009, performed this climb as part of SkyRise Chicago, an indoor stair-climbing fund-raising event for the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago (RIC), along with roughly 2700 other climbers. For years now, he has been commuting from Seattle – where he lives with his wife and two children – to Chicago to assist the RIC with the development of the leg.

This consisted of a surgical procedure called “targeted muscle reinnervation”, originally pioneered by the RIC’s Center for Bionic Medicine for upper-arm amputees. The operation reassigns nerves that once controlled a lost limb, allowing amputees to have more natural control of prosthetic devices. In Vawter’s case, this meant rerouting the residual nerves that normally would carry signals to his lower leg by attaching them to his hamstring.

Once that was complete, Vawter was assigned the leg that would turn these nerve impulses into full-range movement. Consisting of a powered knee and ankle that work in unison, the device reads the wearer’s intent. When they push on the device to stand up, for example, it pushes back, propelling them up. When they pull on the device, it retracts, allowing them to take a step forward or vertically, depending on the signals it receives.

“Everything went great,” said Vawter at the event’s end. “The prosthetic leg did its part, and I did my part.” Kudos to you Zak Vawter! Who knows? This could be the end of problems involving accessibility as we know it!

Source: newscnet.com, huffingtonpost.com

Walking Dead, Season 3 Episode 4

Welcome back to the Walking Dead! Today’s review, episode four entitled “Killer Within”, which as you may notice is a double-entendre. After last weeks introduction of the Governor and his walled town, things are once again shifting back towards the main group in the story, focusing on events in the prison and their ongoing struggle to build a safe haven.

Attention is still given the growing mistrust Michonne feels towards the governor, and the conflict between her and Andrea over the issue of trust. But by far, the biggest events took place within the prison complex, and I mean biggest! Some seriously big curveballs were hurled in this episode, which included the birth of Rick and Lori’s child, the death of T-Dog, and the death of Lori herself.

Killer Within:

Things open up on the prison, where we see someone opening the gates and laying bait for the Walkers to come. The identity is left a mystery for the time being, all we know is they are intent on sacrificing everyone within. Shortly thereafter, we see Rick, Glenn, Maggie and Daryl in the yard where they are moving their vehicles and discussing clean-up. They intend to plant crops in the field soon, and don’t want the litters of Walker bodies contaminating the soil.

Hershel comes out to see them on crutches, accompanied by the other members of their group. They are joined by the two prisoners, Axel and Oscar, confront them and ask to be allowed to join them in their side of the prison. They decide to give them supplies and send them on their way, but the send-off is cut short when Walkers show up in the yard and begin attacking them.

A fight ensues, and things are made worse when the prison sirens go off, attracting more Walkers. The group must split up, with Rick, Glenn, and Daryl fighting to clear the yard and get inside to shut off the sirens. Oscar, who used to work in the power room, escorts them to it after Glenn shuts the gate to keep more from coming in. Hershel and Beth manage to get to safety, but T-Dog is bitten while trying to protect Carol and get her inside. Maggie escorts Lori and Carl inside but they find Walkers have infiltrated the prison interior and flee to the basement.

Over in the town, Andrea continues to get to know the Governor while Michonne pursues her suspicion that there’s something “off” about him. Andrea learns that his true name is Philip, and that he had a wife who is now dead. Michonne inspects the army trucks they procured and notices traces of blood and bullet holes and suspects the Governor’s cover story was false.

At the same time, Merle learns of the location of the farmhouse where Andrea was staying, and asks the Governor for permission to go there and begin searching for his brother Daryl. The Governor believes its a wild goose chase, but agrees to go with him if he finds more concrete evidence that his brother could still be alive. Andrea and Michonne are set to leave and Andrea says goodbye, but is told she and Michonne are always welcome back.

Back at the prison, things are going from bad to worse. When they reach the power room, Rick discovers the identity of their betrayer. Turns out it’s Andrew, one of the prisoners who was believed to have died at the hands of the Walkers, is alive. After Rick is knocked down, Oscar grabs his gun and points it at the two of them. He then shoots Andrew and gives the gun back to Rick. Apparently, trust has now been established between their two groups, and the sirens are shut down.

Elsewhere, T-Dog and Carol are rushing through the tunnels and are cut off by a group of Walkers. T-Dog makes his final stand by rushing the group, and dies screaming while Carol makes it back to the yard. In another room, Carol begins to go into labor and experiences serious bleeding. She asks Maggie to perform a C-section and tells Carl she loves him, and does not appear to make it through the process. However, the baby is alive and well, and Carl tells her to leave so he can shoot Lori before she becomes a Walker. A gunshot is heard and he joins Maggie, and the two go back to the yard. There, they meet up with the rest, and Rick is broken when he sees the baby and realizes Lori is dead.

Summary:

Needless to say, this episode was a real nail biter. Granted, it wasn’t too much of a mystery who the saboteur was, though I did suspect it might have been Oscar for a short while. His knowledge of the power room seemed to me to be an indication that he might be the one behind the whole thing. But at the same time, we never really saw Andrew die so… yeah, not a big mystery!

No, the real tension here came in the form of the split which took place inside the prison. Thanks to the arrival of the Walkers, the group was split three ways, with each one facing its own particular crises. For Rick and his group, there was the task of shutting down the sirens and finding out who betrayed them. But Lori, Maggie and Carl, there was the challenge presented by her imminent delivery. For the rest, it was all about staying alive and getting back to the others. Between all of these perspectives, the full range of the show was displayed. You had betrayal and desperation, life in the midst of death, and terrible sacrifice. All of it was poignant and effective.

Also, the slow build-up of tension over in the town thread is something I really approve of. It’s pretty clear at this point that Michonne’s distrust  of the Governor will bear fruit in time, and that the Governor is likely to take her and Andrea prisoner once the cat’s out of the bag. What’s more, they are letting on that Merle’s efforts to find his brother are likely to lead the Governor to the prison. And we all saw what he did with those army men. Clearly, he believes anyone who doesn’t reside within his walls is a threat that must be dealt with. Clearly, these two threads are destined to collide, and sooner other than later.

But above all, the biggest thing in this episode was the deaths of T-Dog and Lori. In the former case, I wasn’t particularly surprised. As a friend of mine recently pointed out (hi Khaalidah!) T-Dog has remained an underdeveloped character in the series. Since we know nothing about his past and he’s got no one he’s particularly attached to in the group, his loss could not be considered a terrible tragedy. Lori, on the other hand is an essential character, the wife and mother of two other main characters.

Personally, I am entertaining the notion that she is not really dead, mainly because her death at this point in the show goes against material from the comics. However, there have been plenty of diversions from that material already, and who’s to say what the writer’s have planned. Perhaps I’m in denial…

Oh yeah, and there is the matter of the title itself, which as I said earlier I believe I to be a double-entrendre. On the one hand, you have Andrew who is busy at work plotting the demise of the group. He is the literal killer within the walls of the prison. However, the other meaning I believe lies within the Governor himself. Whereas he seems like a stable and caring fellow on the outside, the kind of man who projects a positive image to Andrea and the townspeople, we know him to be a cold-blooded murderer and insane man. This side, however, he keeps tucked away from prying eyes. Make sense? Just one man’s interpretation.

More to follow from this series soon enough. Don’t venture too far…

Mercury Robot Survives Hurricane Sandy

Amidst the news of Hurricane Sandy, of the devastation and ongoing efforts at rescuing those in harm’s way, there was a story that might have been overlooked. It seems that a small robot named Mercury, one of Liquid Robotics wave gliders, survived the storm and managed to keep transmitting information the whole time.

When the storm hit, Mercury was located just 161 km east of Toms River, New Jersey, where winds got up to about 115 km/hour. Nevertheless, the robot continued to function though the worst of it, transmitting real-time weather data and helping scientists to get a better understanding of what made the storm tick.

Naturally, everyone at the parent company was quite pleased with their little automaton, even though it was only doing its job. Technically speaking, Wave Gliders are autonomous monitoring devices that use the ocean’s waves for propulsion. They are composed of two sections; a float for the surface and a submarine compartment that resides under the water. The lower section also comes equipped with moving wings that ensure that the Glider can convert wave energy into forward momentum.

Each Glider comes with a GPS, a series of internal pocessors, navigation software, and an assortment of environmental sensors. Designed for oceanic data-gathering missions, their primary purpose is to help scientists and meteorologists understand and come up with solutions for climate change, resource management, and weather alerts. Given this mission profile, Mercury’s ability to keep on working through a Class One hurricane was quite encouraging. According to Joanne Masters of Liquid Robotics’: “Being able to provide real-time weather data from the surface and the first layer of the water column of the ocean will help scientists better measure and predict hurricane intensity. This can help save lives and prevent property devastation.”

Source: news.cnet.com

Etemenanki – Chapter 2

They reached the end of the horizontal line and transferred to one of the many verticle tubes that lined the outer wall. Things shifted slightly as the pod went from speeding ahead to driving upwards, taking them ever upwards towards ICE’s offices in the upper-mid section of the city.

Every time they passed a shunt in the line, a wall of air seemed to break against the pod. That was Rainlin’s theory as to why they kept hearing a thumping noise whenever they passed one. It had become a rhythm, steady as his heartbeat, providing a certain cadence to their journey.

And given that there was no music or on board entertainment system, he was pleased for the noise. It ensured that in the absence of conversation, they had something to prevent an awkward silence. Despite his agreeing to come, he was absolutely committed to avoiding any inane chit chat with his former superior. Then again, he realized, if he did go back to being an Iceman, Calvin would be his superior once more.

That thought joined a slew of others in condemning him for his recent actions. Once again, every instinct he had told him he was making a mistake, the same instincts that told him not to get in when the pod reached them on the terminus platform. And yet he did, pushed or pulled by the undeniable force that made him ask what was so important he had to be called on to come back in the first place.

“So what does your job entail?” Calvin said after a few minutes. Rainlin groaned inwardly that the silence had been so short.

 He shrugged before answering.

“You pretty much covered it back in the arbor.”

“Really?” he said incredulously. “It’s as easy as watching people’s homes and monitoring their accounts for unwanted activity?”

Rainlin sighed. Apparently, they were going to be conversing about what he had been doing since leaving the service. “Not so simple as all that. It’s mainly the job of a consultant to advise Spire folk about potential risks and apprise them of their options.”

“So… you help them shop around for systems and security people?”

Rainlin nodded. “Yes, that’s about it. And to answer your next question; yes, they do pay me for that privilege.”

Calvin hummed thoughtfully again. It was generally what he did before preparing to make a sarcastic remark, or ask something that would inevitably lead to sarcasm.

“So how does living up there compare to life in the Commons?”

Rainlin was forced to consider that. People rarely asked, they just assumed. There was plenty of public domain info to go by for those who never made the trip, and the Babel vids certainly made it look opulent. It seemed that every week, some visionary or another was producing a vid about life in some corner of the estates, as entertainment for those who only knew of it by reputation. What could he say that a little private research or endless hours of footage could not?

“It’s bright,” he said. “Just about every surface is transparent or bright white.”

“Really?” said Calvin, though he didn’t look surprised. “I had heard as much.”

That was the last of his questions. For the remainder of the ride, neither of them said a thing. When they reached the desired level, the car shifted again, taking them back towards the center of the city and to ICE’s private dock. They shifted only once to a side-line, avoiding a series of larger public cars that were taking assorted personnel away from the other offices that resided in the upper-middle section. Rainlin heard a loud pop outside the car as they whooshed from the crowded main tunnel to the private alternate one.

And then, they began to slow. The sound of air and their own motors coming to a gentle, whining halt. The door opened, admitting the outside air and filling the cabin with the stink of fear, anger and officiousness. The true smell of a public sector building.

“We’re here,” said Calvin, standing by the door. Rainlin still needed a moment to bring himself to leave the podcar. Once he stepped out, he knew he’d be in Calvin’s custody for the next few hours. Such a decision could not be made lightly.

“I’m coming,” he said with a sigh. He paused in the doorway one last time, and then stepped onto the platform.

“There, that wasn’t so hard. And trust me, you’ll be most interested to see what I’ve seen in just the last few hours.”

“Oh yeah?” said Rainlin, hoping to get a preview. “Like what?”

“Like a central AI that does not report anomalous entries in the Census data. Like Intruders that seem to know there way around ENIS and other internal systems. Like the failure of our own technical services, and outsiders with technical qualifications.”

Rainlin’s eyebrow arched involuntarily. Yes, he had to admit, that was interesting.

They came to the front doors of the ICE building and stepped into a small foyer. The virtual interface appeared in front of them, presenting the company logo and creating a small box of multicolored light directly in front of their chests. A computerized voice came on to give instructions in a discernably female contralto.

“Identification please.”

Calving held out his hand. The holographic nexus beeped, chimed and turned green. The voice came on again, sounding remarkably chipper.

“Assistant Director Calvin Borga.”

He looked over at Rainlin and nodded. “Go ahead, I arranged for temporary clearance.”

Rainlin placed his hand, palm out into the box. It turned green and the voice returned, this time sounding more neutral.

“Michael Rainlin. Guest pass confirmed. Note that your privileges are limited to omega-level access and will be revoked if any violations occur.”

“Pleasant girl,” he said with a nod.

“She gets a bit antsy around people she doesn’t know.”

Great, Rainlin thought. A security system with the temperament of a guard dog.

*                     *                    *

The door slid open, admitting them to the heart of ICE’s Monitoring section. Around a central hub, a single person sat and worked away at a series of virtual terminals and interfacing with a projection screen. Calvin stepped in and promptly introduced Rainlin to the man’s back.

“Rain, I want you to meet the man who proved to be one step ahead of the machinery. Meet Edward Danziginaire.”

“Charmed, I’m sure.”

They approached the man at his terminal, but no reaction was forthcoming. As they neared, Rainlin noticed the wetwire implants around his skull which ran directly into the machinery and nodded. Of course he wasn’t paying them any attention, being jacked into the system as he was. Whatever questions Rainlin had would have to be directed at Calvin for the time being.

“How long as he worked here?”

“Just under two years. Transfer from the Commons MMI research team.”

Rainlin smrked. “Yeah, the test subject maybe.”

Calvin cleared his throat and leaned in close. “Actually, he was a team leader. And he can hear you, despite all appearances.”

This was one of the many reasons he had chosen not to follow in the footsteps of the venerated Octavio, which was the sheer fanaticism some of their ilk showed towards their craft. To hear them speak of it, they were extremely dedicated, but borderline obsessive was the choice of words Rainlin would use. But at least they were not hypocrites, always using the fruits of their own labors instead of just passing them onto others.

“So how exactly did he best the machinery?”

Calvin snapped his fingers. “I think I’ll let him explain that.” They walked to the Commoner’s side, who promptly stopped typing on the interface as soon as they flanked him. “How is it, Danzig?”

The man’s head twitched sideways, the cables joined to his skull jiggling slighty. “Turing has been most forthcoming. She has provided me with all the details of her oversight, ID’s on all the known Intruders and their last known locations.”

“Has she explained her failure?”

“No, sir. But I didn’t ask.”

“Why not?”

“I thought you might like to. And since she’s not suffering from any overt technical glitches, I thought it ought to prove entertaining.”

Calvin smiled and looked to Rainlin. He couldn’t have asked for a better set of circumstances. Rainlin smiled too, suspecting that this was all arranged for the sake of providing him with a better show.

Reaching over to the terminal, Calvin hit a series of keys. The image of a digital face, quite cybernetic in appearance, resolved in front of them. It might have been Rainlin’s imagination, but it appeared to be somewhat nervous.

“Good morning, Turing. How have you and Danzig been getting along?”

“Quite well,” the computerized voice said. “I’ve been relaying all the information that I can, hoping to assist in the endeavor of correcting for this latest intrusion into our fair city. Shall I provide you with a full profile of the individuals in question, as constructed from their activities and outward behavioral characteristics?”

“Not yet, Turing,” Calvin replied, pressing his hands together. “For the moment, let us focus on how you came to know of these people in the first instance.”

The image blinked, a clear indication that it was processing, and replied. “It was a simple matter of noticing that their IDents did not accord to any known entries in my Census Archive. For weeks, they had using these IDents to procure information and basic supplies from ENIS and the dispensaries on the Base level. They appeared to be legitimate, but my system began to note the discrepancy before long.”

Calvin hummed affirmatively a few times. “And now let’s discuss why you didn’t report these individuals when you had the chance.”

The image blinked again. This time, it appeared to be the mark of hesitation, the result of the program’s limited emotional construct which made it behavior ever so slightly… human.

“I was… concerned,” it said. “The incongruity could only mean that one or more systems were malfunctioning in the lower level. Either that, or the malfunction was on my end, within my census information. I endeavored to look more closely before making a report.”

“And what did you find?”

“I determined their was no error within my Census data, not unless it was a cascading error which had removed not only the ID’s in question, but any and all records of their existence. However, the more likely scenario was that the malfunction was in the Base level, specifically with it’s IDent recognition and response systems.”

“Could this have been the result of tampering with the local IRR?”

The image blinked for the third time. “Yes, however, that was a tertiary consideration on my part.”

Calvin nodded. “I see, I see. So… why didn’t you report this after making that determination?”

“Simply put, I was… concerned that the revelation of this news might lead to extreme measures being taken. AI’s that commit such errors have a way of being scoured. I was relieved to learn that the I was not responsible for the error, but did  not want my counterpart in IRR to suffer the same fate. You could say, I endeavored to correct it myself.”

“So basically, you covered your ass because you were afraid you’d get a colleague in trouble.” Calvin shook his head, even chuckled a little. “You see what we’ve come to deal with here? They did warn us that an emotional matrix might become slightly buggy after a few years time. I guess we all just always assumed we’d notice right away.”

“You know what they say about assumptions,” replied Rainlin.

Calvin laughed and slapped Danzig on the shoulder. “And it was our friend here who, during a regular maintenance sweep, detected the errors and traced them back to their source. Were it not for him, we would have never been aware of your failure, Turing.”

“Wow,” added Rainlin. “Score one for human oversight.”

The image darkened a little, its facial features forming the basic outline of a frown. In its limited way, it must have known it was being mocked, and didn’t appear to appreciate it too much.

“And do you know what the greatest irony in this is, Turing? By hoping to avoid a scouring, you’ve made one seem all the more necessary.”

“Sir, I have cooperated fully. I can be of greater assistance, and can assure you that no such errors will ever happen again.”

“Thank you, Turing. But I think we can handle things from here. We’ll see you again once you’ve been wiped and thoroughly cleaned.”

“Sir, I-” the programs desperate please were cut off as Calvin made a chopping gesture at his neck, prompting Danzig to terminate the interface. The face disappeared with what was surely a look of terror in its blank white eyes.

“Good job, Danzig. Begin running diagnostics and make sure no traces of that conversation remain in his memory banks. We have enough to deal with right now without worrying about an AI with hurt feelings.”

“Right sir.” Danzig went back to tapping away at the virtual terminal. Calvin turned to Rainlin and smiled curtly.

“So… multiple intrusions on the Base level, people who have successfully been hiding for months, and a system that let them get away with it up until now…” The smile grew. “Interested yet?”

Rainlin cleared his throat. He tried his best to maintain the veneer of indifference, as futile as it was at this point. “You said something about them trying to get more people in place. How do you know that?”

Calvin smiled again. It was fast becoming an annoying habit of his, always suggesting that he knew more than he was letting on. “How do you think?”

Rainlin frowned. “Well, the only way you could know what they were planning was if you heard it from their mouths. Either you’ve got a mole amongst them already or…” he paused, the full weight of the second likelihood hitting him full on. “…you had access to communications passing between them and…”

Calvin was beaming now. “Go on, say it.”

“Their network… you said they had a large one. Is it operating outside the city?”

Calvin brought his hands together several times, making a loud, patronizing clapping noise. “The prodigal agent returns. Yes indeed, we did get wind of their plans from some external communiques. And I have the records… if you want to hear them?”

Rainlin looked in the direction of the door. He sensed where they might be headed next.

“Your office?”

Calvin gestured formally to the door. “Indeed. Care for one last ride?”

Rainlin grumbled. “Why not? I came this far.”

Calling All Revengers!

Hello to all members and all applicants! As I’m sure you’re all aware by now, the Revengers have come together and been declared an official force for justice and crime fighting. However, we still await the paperwork of a few standouts, people who have yet to fill out their bio work, submit photos, and provide other details. I hate to name names, but we’re all anxious to begin fighting crime and doing good in the community. And we’d hate to do it without a full compliment.

So, the following people need to submit the following info to HR forthwith:

Joaco (aka. Joaquin Barroso) – backstory and catchphrase

Pax (aka. Lance Schaubert) – backstory and catchphrase

Typos (aka. Greentree) – Alter ego, backstory, appearance, catchphrase

And please note that pictures are not a problem. Just let me know what you’re costume is and I can design a profile pic for you. Or, if you want to do it yourself, just follow this link and tinker til you like what you see: http://marvel.com/games/play/31/create_your_own_superhero

Looking forward to hearing from you and completing our justice team! Soon, we should choose our first mission. My colleague, Veiled Tsunami and I were talking, and we figured our first mission should be to take down this cities drug peddlers. However, the floor is open to suggestions. We could always do something socially conscious, like clamp down on polluters, political corruption, or even take down a mass murderer! We’re the Revengers, we can do anything so long as its (technically) within the law and reason… sort of.