trans_9 | Ai-yai-yai [Open]

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Ai-yai-yai [Open]

Seated rigidly at the Observation Deck is one Billy Cranston, tightly gripping a stylus as he sketches out a rough blueprint on a datapad. The image staring up at him is somewhat messy, as though the engineer was unsure of the general design until inspiration struck halfway through.

His proposal, as impractical and impossible to build as it is, bears the following label:

Automated Laboratory Productivity Heightening Assistant

Observers will see an inefficient and frankly silly-looking sort of bipedal robot that would likely never pass for a serious design attempt in the scientific community. The robot has a thing that resembles two cymbals glued together for a head, a stylized lightning bolt on its torso, and armor that looks vaguely like a hockey player's uniform. The side of the display is marked with possible material suggestions, construction methods, and wiring information from his memory, rather than exact plans.

He finishes and takes a moment to observe his work. That hadn't gone as planned---he'd intended to create a viable lab assistant and ended up with a trip down memory lane. Groaning, he buries his head in his hand.

"My efficiency level is being adversely affected by nostalgia", he mumbles irritatedly.

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It had taken Bones several minutes to find him, but this conversation needed to be had sooner rather than later. He walked onto the observation deck. "Have a few moments? Mr..."

Billy gently pushes the datapad aside, sliding his brain back into business mode. "Cranston, sir. And affirmative."

"Don't call me sir, I'm not that old." Bones said. "Dr. Leonard McCoy. I understand you're one of the head engineers in charge."

He wasn't used to talking to an engineer with no accent.

"I apologize for suggesting that you were of advanced age, Doctor McCoy. That wasn't my intention." He shifts upright stiffly, as if he's a young boy trying to sit in his father's business chair.

"Yes. Is there a matter I can assist with?"

McCoy chuckles. "Unclench, cadet. Len works just fine." The tone is more teasing curmudgeon than crusty old fart. He takes his shoulder bag off and takes out several instruments...his phaser, his tricorder, the device he used to heal Sam with, his hypospray, and a couple of vials. "This is the equipment that I'm familiar with with my time. I need for you to get your talking heads together and figure out how to make more of these...especially the hypospray injectors. The ship still uses NEEDLES, for god's sake. Obviously the flying meatball likes some red sauce, but I'd prefer not to propagate infection, thank you very much."

There's a reciprocal nervous chuckle as Billy rolls back his shoulders. He leans forward a moment later, eyes taking in every tool with interest.

Noting the doctor's emphasis on the hypospray, he leans in to study it further. "So...this device produces a high pressure spray, administering injections without inserting a needle in the bloodstream? That would be beneficial." Billy's hand drifts up to rub the spot on his arm where the hydration needles jab him---that had been an unpleasant surprise the first time around, to say the least.

"We'll make it a priority to supply you with the necessary medical equipment. I suspect our experience with the Yeerks may have been just an inkling of what lies ahead."

"We should be able to use the serums on hand, provided we can create more of the vials for administration. But I'd like everyone with medical credentials on the ship to have one handy with at least the ability to administer a sedative.

He then picks up the smaller object. "This I'd prefer not to be taken apart if at all possible because it's the only one I've got. This accelerates internal cell regeneration, promoting healing without having to do invasive surgery. Only downside is that for me to program it, I have to know the biology of the patient, and with different species floating around, that's hard. But I'd hate for this to be the only one of these available. That green-skinned genius of yours had to resort to 20th century surgery to repair Sam, and that can be dangerous."

Billy extends an arm towards the datapad, saves the blueprint, and starts taking notes on a fresh file. "Right. I believe we were all encouraged to find a doctor we trusted and disclose our biological information to them, but I'm not sure whether they would have that in a database available to you. Some crewmates had concerns about invasions of privacy---which is something I don't quite understand."

He quickly sketches each tool on the datapad, scribbling important notes about their functions in the margins. "Are there any other considerations I need to bring back to the engineers when working on these?"

"Try not to take them apart if you don't have to, at the moment they're irreplacable." Bones said. "I'm a doctor, not an engineer, so I can't give you much in terms of schematics...but I can confirm if it all works or not."

"Understood. We'll make sure we give you regular updates---if the shipwide communication system we're developing comes online soon, that will be a great help."

"...that's just silly-looking," Meluly comments from behind him.

Outside of the black skin, tattoos, and red eyes, what might be rather noticeable about her is that she's not wearing one of those ever-present plant suits—instead, she's stolen a red silk drape from one of the city's buildings to loosely wrap around herself somewhere half between an awkward sari and a just-as-awkward toga. The constant risk of near-exposure doesn't seem to bother her much, though.

Billy spins to look at the somewhat odder-looking than average newcomer with a frown, tightly clutching the datapad. "Alpha's not---" he pauses for a moment to concede that she might have a point. The design probably does resemble a toy to the casual observer.

He clears his throat and looks up at the intruder again, ready for a redo. "I knew a sentient automaton with this design. He was extraordinary", he says simply.

"Sentient?" the red-eyed woman asks in a tone that suggests she's simultaneously dubious of the idea—and not entirely sure she's got the right meaning in mind for the word.

"Affirmative. His artificial intelligence developed to the point where he became as sentimental and free-willed as any human---that would be the most complicated part of constructing a replica. He was...a good friend."

He lowers his head to the ground, suddenly conscious that it might not be the best of first impressions to declare to a newcomer that one of your dearest friends is a robot.

"Do your robots merely follow input, or does it work a different way?"

Luly raises a finger, fishing around in her wrapped quasi-halter... she's not exceptionally endowed, but it's still sort of distracting. Fortunately, before she can tease very long, she withdraws a sleek black cylinder about the size of an old-fashioned fountain pen, holding one end up between her fingers.

"Idazy, wake up," she says—for a long moment nothing happens, and then a ring glows at the end of the cylinder.

"Good afternoon," says a tinny-but-feminine voice from the cylinder as a stylized, unsupported face constructed out of outlines and edges congeals out of thin air—it's small, no bigger than a fist, and bears a similar brand of glyphic markings to Luly's own face. "I was following your conversation. Kruk alamazzy un mek. Shall I explain?" The non-holographic woman nods, and the illusory face shifts to 'look' in Billy's direction, smiling.

"I am a pseudointelligent system, and similar to most competing product lines. While I can efficiently process information, I have, for example, no true ability to intuit things or craft data that isn't a logical or preprogrammed extension of what I already know. I am designed to work around these shortcomings where possible to preserve the semblance of sentience and sapience."

Luly seems to have... sort of followed that, albeit with some mental gears grinding around in the process.

Billy averts his eyes, embarrassed, until the 'danger' passes and the holographic head, this 'Idazy' is talking. He listens intently, nodding along. What she says rings true, but he's still reluctant to attribute Alpha's behavior to simple artificial programming.

"All of that definitely follows from logic. Given the limits of artificial intelligence, it should be impossible to achieve full sentience and sapience with a robot. There are certain ways to preprogram patterns of response that mimic human deductions, but all humans have at least some underlying currents of illogical thoughts that are impossible to replicate precisely because they lack patterns."

Billy takes a short breath and continues. "If I'd never met Alpha, I would still believe that the concept of a fully sentient robot was an oxymoron. But this robot is different somehow. He's served alongside my friends and I in situations no one could have anticipated, and reacted completely irrationally at times. He could definitely feel fear---more than once we found him pacing around in a panic and babbling about the horrible things that would happen if we lost a battle. More than that, he was brilliant. He came up with novel solutions that not even his mentor could conceive of."

"I wish I had an explanation for the phenomenon, but the best answer I can come up with was that he, like the rest of us, was 'touched by magic'. He was the servant of a powerful wizard and mysterious things happened around him, so that's not surprising."

Luckily, Billy manages to look apologetic for the long-winded lecture. "Even scientists---especially scientists---know that despite humanity's best efforts at building a complete database of knowledge, some phenomena continue to defy explanation."

Luly looks kind of relieved that Billy's left off, finally. "I guess that... makes sense," she says kind of lamely, her expression suggesting that the processing centers of her brain panicked halfway through and started skipping sections. She glances between Billy and her little holo-gubbin and then back to Billy again. "But, if he became a... vessel for something, that doesn't exactly sound safe..." she adds, her eyebrows furrowing slightly.

Though he's still not the best at reading people right away (if Kimberly had been there she would have forced him to use smaller words after the first sentence), but he recognizes the signs of his Billy-speak confusing people from years of miscommunication and manages to look a little sorry.

"He might be a vessel, but I don't think that's the exact word. This 'power' is strange. Either way, I'm grateful for all he did to help my friends."

Closing those memories away, he sets the datapad down on the table in front of him, turning to his companion. "All that talking and I never greeted you."

He extends a hand in greeting hesitantly and then retracts it, unsure of how Meluly would view the gesture. Eventually, he settles on inclining his head, hands clasped behind his back. "My name is Billy. I assist with building the machinery here."

Luly seems kind of bemused by Billy's hesitancy in the greeting. She flips the little projection cylinder between her fingers—the face blinks out the moment it starts to move—and firmly offers her other hand, eyebrows going up.

"First lieutenant Meluly, NEG army, special operations deployment," she says. "I'm a pilot."

Relieved, Billy reaches out once more and gives her hand a firm shake. A small part of him had been hoping to learn an exotic greeting, but good old familiar gestures have their place too.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'd be thrilled to learn what I can from you."

"Now that's a unique come-on," Luly says, her face in a solidly serious expression for a long beat before she breaks into a smile.

Now you've done it, Luly. Billy immediately spits out an explanation, pale red splotches subtly forming on his cheeks.

"I'm not intending to pursue any sort of intimate relations at this stage---that is, you're undoubtedly attractive and a worthy partner, but as a chief engineer I need to maintain strict professional---"

Then he catches her smile and stops for breath, suddenly feeling silly. "...was that remark facetious?"

"It was a joke, if that's what you mean," she says innocently. "You're not my type, anyway. Too... innocent." Her tone hints that that's more a compliment that not, though.

"Affirmative. A facetious statement is a joke."

Too innocent? Billy frowns a little at that assessment. He understands perfectly well any number of taboo and uncomfortable topics...on a conceptual level in the realm of relations, but definitely practically in the realm of violence.

He's lost for words for a moment, and finally says playfully, "I understand...or rather, I don't understand. And that's fine."

"If you understood, you wouldn't be too innocent," Luly says with a slightly snide grin.

He bristles slightly at the remark, but not entirely without humor. "Touché."

"Though I'm not certain I would participate in a relationship if offered the chance. I have more productive and urgent things to do than engage in issues of the heart. Our gadgets won't fix themselves." Billy smiles slightly and gets to his feet---but perhaps the smile's not entirely easygoing. He suddenly has something important to think about.

"I apologize, but I must go. I'd promised to assist with engineering's workload today."

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Ai-yai-yai [Open]

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>.< ack sorry I accidentally deleted the notif email