“Our ‘enemy’ is targeting high density energy sources, like the ones in your powered fullerene uniforms.”
“I don’t feel too good about your solution to the problem, little one.”
“How do you feel about suddenly exploding pants?”
“Listen up, monkeys! We’re getting some naked time!”
To doubt everything or to believe everything are two equally convenient solutions; both dispense with the necessity of reflection.
He looked up to see his own dim reflection staring back at him from the mirrored wall, shadowed by a pillar, face suffused with frustration and terror. He squeezed his eyes shut and looked again, moving in front of the pillar and staring. Most unpleasant—for a second, he had seen himself wearing his green Barrayaran uniform.
“Weep for the future, Na’toth. Weep for us all.”
“Are you all right?”
“I have looked into the darkness, Na’toth. You can not do that and never be quite the same again. When you told me about the destruction of our base at quadrant 37, I knew that only a major power could attempt an assault of that magnitude. But none of the governments here could’ve done it. Which left only two possibilities: a new race, or an old race. A very old race.”
We live in an age that cannibalizes its past because it has lost faith in its future.
Past glories are poor feeding.
History isn’t all fact–it’s just the story the victors tell to keep themselves in power. And it’s been a slow revision. The more time passes, the easier it becomes to reinvent the past.
“What’cha readin’, Reverend?”
“‘The Lost Ordinances of the Reformed Apocalpytic Cathostancey’.”
“If the ordinances are in the book, then they’re not lost, are they?”
“I think you’ve just invalidated the last eight hours of my research.”
“My work here is done.”
Let’s just say you’re not the only one that’s lost someone. If you want to leave, I’ll give you enough money to get as far as you need. Disappear.
“Only one human captain has ever survived battle with the Minbari fleet. He is behind me. You are in front of me. If you value your lives, be somewhere else.”
We’d a done better if you’d listened to what I said and stayed on the river rather than settle down in this madhouse for the night. All the world to choose from and you had to choose here!
It’s a mad house. A mad house!
Americans are considered crazy anywhere in the world. They will usually concede a basis for the accusation but point to California as the focus of the infection.
“Well, the first thing anyone needs to know about Stephen Westman is that he’s a Montanan. They’re all a little crazy, but he’s crazier than most. In fact, he’s almost as crazy as a Gryphon Highlander. I think he and my father would get along really well…assuming they didn’t kill each other first. I remember the first time he met with us, and—”
“What a lunatic,” she murmured. “He has not done this for many years. Not since he was young man, according to the history books.”
I was about to take her back the regular way when a neighbor of ours came down the hoist. I said, “Hello, Mrs. Greenberg,” and she called back, “Hi, Holly. How are your folks?”
Susie Greenberg is more than plump. She was hanging by one hand with young David tucked in her other arm and holding the Daily Lunatic, reading as she dropped. Miss Brentwood stared, bit her lip, and said, “How do I do it?”
“Spider-Man, Hero or Menace? Exclusive Daily Bugle Photos”.
“At first it meant Allied Mastercomputer, and then it meant Adaptive Manipulator, and later on it developed sentience and linked itself up and they called it an Aggressive Menace, but by then it was too late, and finally called itself AM, emerging intelligence, and what it meant was I am … cogito ergo sum … I think, therefore I am.”
I am not. And then I am. I wonder if that was death.
The living Paul gulped and looked up. “What–”
“Happened? You know as much as we do. That’s what we’re trying to figure out, and that’s why you need to figure out what’s wrong with our AI.”