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Nothing New Page 6
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conversation whenever you have something that I can use against our retarded friend here.”
“She doesn’t take orders from you, Jack, so don’t try. You know, I don’t have to sit here and take this abuse from you two.”
“You’re right. Feel free to stand up.”
“Very funny.”
“Roger, I know what you are trying to do, but, by Jupiter, is that the best you can come up with?”
“Hey I’m open to suggestions.”
“Why don’t you go out to the Edgeworth-Kuiper belt or Ort Cloud at the edge of the S-system? Most of the deaths there really are accidents. The S-system is still a dangerous place if you pick the right location and job.”
“First, I hate space travel; second, I’m not really suicidal; and third, I like making enough money to keep myself comfortable.”
“Let me get this straight. You want to do something original and exciting, but it doesn’t involve space travel or danger or losing your job. Is that correct?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Matilda help me out here. Is this stupid or am I just being negative?”
“It’s stupid,” Matilda quickly replied.
Roger snapped, “You’re supposed to be on my side--and I thought I told you to butt out.”
“Yes, master.” Matilda’s words drip with sarcasm.
Jack looked Roger in the eye. “You used to be a world renowned physicist before you became a paper pusher-slash-bean counter. Didn’t you make some major discoveries when you were young?”
“Actually, I did. I was the leader of the group that increased our spacecraft maximum speed from 60 to 65 percent of the speed of light, the largest increase in half a century. I got the Rector Award for that one, and again for the quantum field generator five years later.
“The trouble is that most physicists have peaked by the time they are 40 years old. After that, they tend to become administrators or consultants—or corpses. I haven’t done anything imaginative in ten years, and even my greatest discoveries have only minutely advanced physics.”
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. That’s what I’m here for. I think this is called ‘wallowing in self pity.’”
“You know, for a ‘so-called’ friend, you’re pretty pathetic at it.”
“What do you want me to do, support your self-pity? I wouldn’t be much of friend if I did. You’re a typical smart guy who has plenty of money and is bored. It’s not a very sympathy-inspiring position.”
“I guess you’re right. Okay, I have to get back to the office and put in a couple more hours of work.”
Jack said, “Working late, huh?”
An half-hour later, Roger was sitting at his desk staring out the window at downtown Phoenix. The buildings seemed to merge into the surroundings, giving the city a very peaceful appearance that was only interrupted by floaters rushing along designated pathways. Roger thought, Maybe Jack has a point. Maybe I should be looking to physics for my excitement. I used to love doing research before I burnt out. Where was that report on utilizing one of the subatomic dimensions for travel? That sounded promising.
“Matilda, pull up that report I received recently from a group at some university where they are doing something with subatomic dimensional travel.”
“Wow, I don’t suppose you could be more specific? I have about ten reports that fit that description.”
“Boy, you’re useless. Maybe you need an upgrade.”
“I have the most current upgrade. Have you ever heard of the expression ‘Crap in, crap out?’ I still need more specifics.”
“Have you ever heard the expression ‘Drop Dead’? The report was sent to me two days ago from Dr. Sarah Janice Yakimato from the Physics Research Institute in Los Alamos. Happy?”
“Yes, very. Here it is.”
The document appeared in the space above his desk in brightly lit letters. “Thanks,” he said absent mindedly as he began reading. “Interesting.”
That weekend Roger had agreed to join Jack and some of his friends for a freefall outing. Roger had done this so many times that he had become bored with it, like so many other things he’d done. But then, unfortunately, he got an idea. Freefalling consisted of being dropped from a floater hovering 3500 meters above the ground. The freefaller wore a dampener that sensed how far off the ground the person was. When he reached an altitude of 150 meters above the ground, the dampening field kicked in and the person decelerated until his speed reached zero just as he touched the ground. The exciting part was the 3000-meter freefall.
Roger cornered one of the jumpmasters and pulled him off to the side. “Angelo, could you rig the dampener to start at 50 meters instead of 150 meters?”
“That’s against the law.”
“You didn’t answer my question. The right answer could be worth 100,000 credits.”
“The systems are triple redundant, and anyway I’d lose my license if you got hurt.”
“First, I know damn well you can get around the redundancy, secondly I’m not going to get hurt, and thirdly, I’ll say I altered the equipment, so you’re clear with 100,000 credits. I’m a physicist, and I’ve done the calculations, so I know I’ll be okay. ”
“Well, it sounds like you know what you’re talking about. Still, better make it 150,000 just in case.”
Roger said, “Fine.” They made the financial transfer.
Angelo headed back into the building and returned a few minutes later with a dampener.
Roger said, “That was quick.”
Angelo replied, “Oh we keep a few ready for nuts like you.”
“How come I feel like I have just been screwed?”
“Because you have. Let’s do it.” They head toward the floater that will take them up to their jump altitude. All of a sudden, Roger had this queasy feeling in his stomach and wondered if he’d made a mistake.
Roger had little time to think about his decision, because he was soon at the door of the floater getting ready to jump. With some trepidation, he closed his eyes and jumped. When he opened his eyes again, he was in an emergency floater with Jack and two EMPs leaning over him. “What happened? Where am I?”
In an excited tone, Jack exclaimed, “Something went wrong with your equipment. They said you hit the ground at about 30 kph! I’m surprised you’re still alive. The jumpmaster said it happens sometimes in spite of the redundancy, something about cascading. He said as a physicist you’d know what he meant. You should still sue that place. How’d he know you’re a physicist?”
The memories rushed back into Roger’s consciousness: the fast approaching ground and his long scream, starting at an altitude of 50 meters and ending at the ground. “Yeh, I’ll have to do that.” Roger’s front was one solid bruise and his nose was broken and almost flat. He couldn’t move at all. “What’s the damage?”
“Actually the EMP said you’re okay, only major contusions, maybe a half-dozen broken bones, your spleen and liver are a mess, and you have this really bad zit on your butt.”
“That’s okay?!!”
“Considering you should be dead? Yeah, it’s okay. Although, I’d get that zit looked into if I were you.”
“Thanks, I will.”
Roger closed his eyes. He continued to lie motionless and let the anti-pain generator in the pillow under his head do its work. It seemed to be missing a few spots, mainly the area from his neck to his toes. Plus, he kept hearing faint laughter from somewhere. It sounded like Matilda’s voice.
Six hours later, Roger, dressed in hospital replacement clothes, collapsed into his favorite chair in the living room. His injuries had been repaired, and he felt close to normal again, though he was very sore all over.
Matilda coyly said, “I like your new nose.”
“Screw you.”
“Nice comeback. Do you want dinner?”
“No I’m not hungry. They dumped enough stuff into me to keep me satiated for a week. Surprising
ly, I’m really horny.”
“In your condition, I would think any physical activity would be out of the question. And considering your last few performances, you may want to wait until you are back up to full power.”
“What the hell does ‘considering your last few performances’ mean? I have always been great, sort of. ANYWAY, call up Sheila Brandy and see if she is busy tonight.”
“I thought she was the one that called you ‘pond scum’ and told you that if you call her again, she would have you killed.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. Maybe we should forget about her. How about …? After a few more names that yielded similar results, he said, “Forget it. I’ll have solo sex tonight.”
“Oh gross, don’t do anything until I turn off all my sensors.”
“Very funny. Give me a porno film from the mid 21st century with at least three women having sex and no men.”
“There are 546,975 hits on that topic. Which one?”
“Surprise me.”
A trio of very fat, very nude women appeared in the middle of the room wrestling as if in a three-way sumo match.
“Okay, I’m surprised, now make it very attractive women.”
“I said you have to be more specific.” The scene changed to three very beautiful, very nude women in the middle of the room. They were rubbing each other in various erogenous zones.
Roger leaned back in the chair and immediately fell asleep.
“Nite, lover boy,” Matilda softly said as she turned off the lights and the movie.
On Monday morning, Roger was sitting in his office. The report from Dr. Yakimato was projected onto what appeared to be an invisible
“She doesn’t take orders from you, Jack, so don’t try. You know, I don’t have to sit here and take this abuse from you two.”
“You’re right. Feel free to stand up.”
“Very funny.”
“Roger, I know what you are trying to do, but, by Jupiter, is that the best you can come up with?”
“Hey I’m open to suggestions.”
“Why don’t you go out to the Edgeworth-Kuiper belt or Ort Cloud at the edge of the S-system? Most of the deaths there really are accidents. The S-system is still a dangerous place if you pick the right location and job.”
“First, I hate space travel; second, I’m not really suicidal; and third, I like making enough money to keep myself comfortable.”
“Let me get this straight. You want to do something original and exciting, but it doesn’t involve space travel or danger or losing your job. Is that correct?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Matilda help me out here. Is this stupid or am I just being negative?”
“It’s stupid,” Matilda quickly replied.
Roger snapped, “You’re supposed to be on my side--and I thought I told you to butt out.”
“Yes, master.” Matilda’s words drip with sarcasm.
Jack looked Roger in the eye. “You used to be a world renowned physicist before you became a paper pusher-slash-bean counter. Didn’t you make some major discoveries when you were young?”
“Actually, I did. I was the leader of the group that increased our spacecraft maximum speed from 60 to 65 percent of the speed of light, the largest increase in half a century. I got the Rector Award for that one, and again for the quantum field generator five years later.
“The trouble is that most physicists have peaked by the time they are 40 years old. After that, they tend to become administrators or consultants—or corpses. I haven’t done anything imaginative in ten years, and even my greatest discoveries have only minutely advanced physics.”
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. That’s what I’m here for. I think this is called ‘wallowing in self pity.’”
“You know, for a ‘so-called’ friend, you’re pretty pathetic at it.”
“What do you want me to do, support your self-pity? I wouldn’t be much of friend if I did. You’re a typical smart guy who has plenty of money and is bored. It’s not a very sympathy-inspiring position.”
“I guess you’re right. Okay, I have to get back to the office and put in a couple more hours of work.”
Jack said, “Working late, huh?”
An half-hour later, Roger was sitting at his desk staring out the window at downtown Phoenix. The buildings seemed to merge into the surroundings, giving the city a very peaceful appearance that was only interrupted by floaters rushing along designated pathways. Roger thought, Maybe Jack has a point. Maybe I should be looking to physics for my excitement. I used to love doing research before I burnt out. Where was that report on utilizing one of the subatomic dimensions for travel? That sounded promising.
“Matilda, pull up that report I received recently from a group at some university where they are doing something with subatomic dimensional travel.”
“Wow, I don’t suppose you could be more specific? I have about ten reports that fit that description.”
“Boy, you’re useless. Maybe you need an upgrade.”
“I have the most current upgrade. Have you ever heard of the expression ‘Crap in, crap out?’ I still need more specifics.”
“Have you ever heard the expression ‘Drop Dead’? The report was sent to me two days ago from Dr. Sarah Janice Yakimato from the Physics Research Institute in Los Alamos. Happy?”
“Yes, very. Here it is.”
The document appeared in the space above his desk in brightly lit letters. “Thanks,” he said absent mindedly as he began reading. “Interesting.”
That weekend Roger had agreed to join Jack and some of his friends for a freefall outing. Roger had done this so many times that he had become bored with it, like so many other things he’d done. But then, unfortunately, he got an idea. Freefalling consisted of being dropped from a floater hovering 3500 meters above the ground. The freefaller wore a dampener that sensed how far off the ground the person was. When he reached an altitude of 150 meters above the ground, the dampening field kicked in and the person decelerated until his speed reached zero just as he touched the ground. The exciting part was the 3000-meter freefall.
Roger cornered one of the jumpmasters and pulled him off to the side. “Angelo, could you rig the dampener to start at 50 meters instead of 150 meters?”
“That’s against the law.”
“You didn’t answer my question. The right answer could be worth 100,000 credits.”
“The systems are triple redundant, and anyway I’d lose my license if you got hurt.”
“First, I know damn well you can get around the redundancy, secondly I’m not going to get hurt, and thirdly, I’ll say I altered the equipment, so you’re clear with 100,000 credits. I’m a physicist, and I’ve done the calculations, so I know I’ll be okay. ”
“Well, it sounds like you know what you’re talking about. Still, better make it 150,000 just in case.”
Roger said, “Fine.” They made the financial transfer.
Angelo headed back into the building and returned a few minutes later with a dampener.
Roger said, “That was quick.”
Angelo replied, “Oh we keep a few ready for nuts like you.”
“How come I feel like I have just been screwed?”
“Because you have. Let’s do it.” They head toward the floater that will take them up to their jump altitude. All of a sudden, Roger had this queasy feeling in his stomach and wondered if he’d made a mistake.
Roger had little time to think about his decision, because he was soon at the door of the floater getting ready to jump. With some trepidation, he closed his eyes and jumped. When he opened his eyes again, he was in an emergency floater with Jack and two EMPs leaning over him. “What happened? Where am I?”
In an excited tone, Jack exclaimed, “Something went wrong with your equipment. They said you hit the ground at about 30 kph! I’m surprised you’re still alive. The jumpmaster said it happens sometimes in spite of the redundancy, something about cascading. He said as a physicist you’d know what he meant. You should still sue that place. How’d he know you’re a physicist?”
The memories rushed back into Roger’s consciousness: the fast approaching ground and his long scream, starting at an altitude of 50 meters and ending at the ground. “Yeh, I’ll have to do that.” Roger’s front was one solid bruise and his nose was broken and almost flat. He couldn’t move at all. “What’s the damage?”
“Actually the EMP said you’re okay, only major contusions, maybe a half-dozen broken bones, your spleen and liver are a mess, and you have this really bad zit on your butt.”
“That’s okay?!!”
“Considering you should be dead? Yeah, it’s okay. Although, I’d get that zit looked into if I were you.”
“Thanks, I will.”
Roger closed his eyes. He continued to lie motionless and let the anti-pain generator in the pillow under his head do its work. It seemed to be missing a few spots, mainly the area from his neck to his toes. Plus, he kept hearing faint laughter from somewhere. It sounded like Matilda’s voice.
Six hours later, Roger, dressed in hospital replacement clothes, collapsed into his favorite chair in the living room. His injuries had been repaired, and he felt close to normal again, though he was very sore all over.
Matilda coyly said, “I like your new nose.”
“Screw you.”
“Nice comeback. Do you want dinner?”
“No I’m not hungry. They dumped enough stuff into me to keep me satiated for a week. Surprising
ly, I’m really horny.”
“In your condition, I would think any physical activity would be out of the question. And considering your last few performances, you may want to wait until you are back up to full power.”
“What the hell does ‘considering your last few performances’ mean? I have always been great, sort of. ANYWAY, call up Sheila Brandy and see if she is busy tonight.”
“I thought she was the one that called you ‘pond scum’ and told you that if you call her again, she would have you killed.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. Maybe we should forget about her. How about …? After a few more names that yielded similar results, he said, “Forget it. I’ll have solo sex tonight.”
“Oh gross, don’t do anything until I turn off all my sensors.”
“Very funny. Give me a porno film from the mid 21st century with at least three women having sex and no men.”
“There are 546,975 hits on that topic. Which one?”
“Surprise me.”
A trio of very fat, very nude women appeared in the middle of the room wrestling as if in a three-way sumo match.
“Okay, I’m surprised, now make it very attractive women.”
“I said you have to be more specific.” The scene changed to three very beautiful, very nude women in the middle of the room. They were rubbing each other in various erogenous zones.
Roger leaned back in the chair and immediately fell asleep.
“Nite, lover boy,” Matilda softly said as she turned off the lights and the movie.
On Monday morning, Roger was sitting in his office. The report from Dr. Yakimato was projected onto what appeared to be an invisible