From: vagans@inanna.eanna.net   
      
   vagans@circuit-riders.net wrote:   
   > On Thu, 10 Dec 2009, mpa wrote:   
   >   
   >    
   >   
   >>   
   >   
   > ...It's part of the old defenses.   
      
   >    
      
   > Both mpa and Sourcerer leaned across the arms of their chairs towards   
   > each other nearly whispering. Sourcerer was taking notes and mpa   
   > appeared to be doodling; they passing the notebooks back and forth,   
   > while Poly curried the buds on a small tray.   
   >   
   > "Michael reminded me of something", she said. "Remember, eyebrown got   
   > 'looped' in time, too, once...wait...". She went to her bookshelf and   
   > pulled down a ledger labeled "Daybook, St Poly's Infirmary". As she   
   > reached for her lighter both exclaimed. "You're right!", then Sourcerer   
   > held up his hand.   
   >   
   > "I wouldn't do that, Poly.  It was grown here".   
   >   
   > Poly closed her eyes, shook her head. As she put the pipe and pouch in a   
   > desk drawer, she said,   
   >   
   > "Guys.  Now, it's getting serious".   
   >   
   > And heads together leaning across the small table between their comfy   
   > chairs, the three began to study the historical records.   
   >   
   >   
   >   
      
   Not looking up from his note taking, mpa said "Sloppy work that   
   'machine'.  Sourcerer snickered. Poly slammed shut Daybook   
   Vol 10 and glared at them.   
      
   "Stop it now! If it is "sloppy" who is to blame? Why would eyebrown   
   even bother with such a thing if he wasn't badgered...and don't you   
   point your finger at mpa, Sourcerer. You were a great help, weren't   
   you, Mr Gracious!"   
      
   "We were at war, Poly!"   
      
   "And when the enemy was beaten, when there was no one left standing   
   to threaten us, you fought among yourselves". Looking at their   
   downcast expressions, her heart softened. "I know there would have   
   been no Rancho or some of the Rancheros -- and maybe no recognizable   
   group at all for them in the first place, if you hadn't gone to war."   
      
   Looking at Sourcerer, she said, "I know how hard it was". They were   
   silent.   
      
   "It's okay, now,' she whispered and returned to reading Daybook Vol 10.   
      
   Sourcerer collated their notes. The meta metaphor machine was not   
   mechanical or electronic. It wasn't a biological organism, either, but   
   it had some qualities that seemed biological more than anything else.   
      
   "He used a dna slurry as a 'lubricant'? Lubricate what?  Where'd he   
   get the dna?", mpa said.   
      
   "It might be -- I can't think of anything else -- it might be a   
   genetic machine," Sourcerer replied. "It makes sense in context.   
   Discussing human/machine interface, and getting hung up over   
   mechanical and electrical. Why not think outside that box and..."   
      
   "I've just come across the med demon's report on eyebrown's   
   encounter with poison ivy", Poly said. "He tried to reseed the lawn   
   where he'd scorched it, but instead of lawn grass, poison ivy   
   sprouted. At least I thought it was; it sure looked like it.   
      
   But it was something else. None of the effects he suffered fit the   
   toxicology, and I do not think eyebrown was such a rookie as to   
   confuse poison ivy with pot. So, something was already affecting   
   him".   
      
   There was a rustling in the room behind them. "Watch this, mpa",   
   Poly said. The eight comfy chairs and two sofas were covered   
   with white sheets. In serial the sheets gave off a loud 'whap!'   
   and hung upright in mid-air, then rolled tight as a giant's blunts   
   they flew across the room to land in a neat stack by the front door.   
   A moment later, they flung themselves back across the room, opened   
   up with a 'Whap!' and settled onto the furniture.   
      
   "I keep trying to see a 'ghost', trying to see who covered the chairs",   
   Sourcerer said.   
      
   "It was the Archidaemon, I'm sure", Poly said. "I left him here to be   
   the caretaker. It was his job to tend to the Rancho in our absence."   
      
   "Where is he, then?"   
      
   "I don't know.  I hope he's ok. He would have shut down, I think,   
   once the Rancho was secured, with a 'wake-me-up' set for routine   
   maintenance, and an 'alert' if there were a problem".   
      
   "Well, there is a problem", Sourcerer noted. "So...wait...he would   
   have responded to the problem. This has been going on for at least   
   a year. Whatever it is, he couldn't repair it, even having access."   
      
   Mpa had been rummaging through their bags, filling a box with odds   
   and ends.  "Let's see what it likes and doesn't like", he said.   
      
   They stood on the porch a began tossing -- and slinging, Poly and   
   Sourcerer pulled slings from their back pockets --things over   
   the perimeter fence of the machine. Metal, minerals, plastics all   
   met the same fate -- ripped to shreds as they crossed the perimeter   
   line, then in a "toing!" and a flash, the shreds vanished into   
   nothingness.  With organics it was different. Meat, corncobs, and   
   a cabbage were all fried a crispy brown, but remained intact.   
      
   "Well, it seems to prefer organics", mpa said. "At least it   
   doesn't utterly destroy them."   
      
   Back inside in the alcove, Sourcerer said "I think it is a genetic,   
   not a biological, machine...so it needs an outside source for its energy.   
   Where does it get its dna? Only one possibility. The lawnmower".   
      
   "Are you saying it runs on grass clippings?", mpa looked both startled   
   and impressed.   
      
   Eyebrown's lawnmower was a device Sourcerer longed to ride, but never   
   had the chance. "It also had a kind of shop-vac and attachments. I   
   think he was tidying up more than just the lawn, and he was monitoring   
   the utilities, so he may have re-routed the sewage, too."   
      
   "The house-daemons got cranky because there wasn't enough for them   
   to do I recall, even though the place was often a mess", Poly said.   
      
   Sourcerer was leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "The Archidaemon   
   was made in the meta metaphor machine and so was that" He pointed above   
   his head. In the gloom of the high ceiling they could make out a shape.   
      
   "It's the beemice maze eyebrown gave them one Christmas. They loved it.   
   One reason why is the beemice aren't animals, but genetic material,   
   clones, replicators, and I think the maze was kind of like 'Mom' to   
   them  I made them for the catbats as a food source, but the catbats   
   were so spoiled being fed by everyone that they never touched them."   
      
   Like acrobats, Sourcerer lifted Poly up onto mpa's shoulders and she   
   unhooked the maze from the ceiling.  They set it on the table between   
   them.   
      
   "I think I can 'stop' them when they appear, and extract them. We can use   
   the controllers we used for beemice racing and direct them over to the   
   utility entrance of the machine. If they can get in and open the door,   
   we will at least be able to see inside, and I do want to see in there."   
      
   Sourcerer pulled a small console out of his toolbag, and set it on the   
   table, the beam directed at the mazehive. A 3d representation of the   
   mazehive appeared above it. He began plotting coordinates and setting up   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)