Difference between revisions of "Brick (Technocrat)/Overview"
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| − | {{tab}}Orders are orders, but not every CAT scan's a CAT scan. Brick's learned his lesson now about asking what the tubes are called before letting the techies shove him in one. All of Brick has. Each one. Some bright light in Control figured it'd be a lot cheaper getting a man into high orbit if you didn't have to take all that meat along. Just pack a hundred kilograms of raw carbon into a satellite with a mindstate receiver and a nanofabricator, beam the guy's brain up in ones and zeroes and check it out, instant human out on the Horizon. Faster than the speed of light, now the quantum entanglement bandwidth is pushing terrabyte territory. And why stop | + | {{tab}}Orders are orders, but not every CAT scan's a CAT scan. Brick's learned his lesson now about asking what the tubes are called before letting the techies shove him in one. All of Brick has. Each one. Some bright light in Control figured it'd be a lot cheaper getting a man into high orbit if you didn't have to take all that meat along. Just pack a hundred kilograms of raw carbon into a satellite with a mindstate receiver and a nanofabricator, beam the guy's brain up in ones and zeroes and check it out, instant human out on the Horizon. Faster than the speed of light, now the quantum entanglement bandwidth is pushing terrabyte territory. And why stop at one? You've still got a copy of his brain on file. This guy was expensive to train. Send a copy to the boys over at the Cop, and one to that Alpha Centauri 3 satellite, you know, the one where they're having all that fungal trouble. And kick a few iterations over to Mars, you know how understaffed they always are. And the grunt? The grunt whose mind they photocopied and reinstalled who wakes up in pink fabber foam in a hundred different constructs at once, works fifty posts simultaneously in instance after instance out there in the big black? Well, maybe don't let the forks run into one another for morale's sake, but look at it this way: you'll never be paying out that life insurance policy. |
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Revision as of 19:51, 15 September 2013
Orders are orders, but not every CAT scan's a CAT scan. Brick's learned his lesson now about asking what the tubes are called before letting the techies shove him in one. All of Brick has. Each one. Some bright light in Control figured it'd be a lot cheaper getting a man into high orbit if you didn't have to take all that meat along. Just pack a hundred kilograms of raw carbon into a satellite with a mindstate receiver and a nanofabricator, beam the guy's brain up in ones and zeroes and check it out, instant human out on the Horizon. Faster than the speed of light, now the quantum entanglement bandwidth is pushing terrabyte territory. And why stop at one? You've still got a copy of his brain on file. This guy was expensive to train. Send a copy to the boys over at the Cop, and one to that Alpha Centauri 3 satellite, you know, the one where they're having all that fungal trouble. And kick a few iterations over to Mars, you know how understaffed they always are. And the grunt? The grunt whose mind they photocopied and reinstalled who wakes up in pink fabber foam in a hundred different constructs at once, works fifty posts simultaneously in instance after instance out there in the big black? Well, maybe don't let the forks run into one another for morale's sake, but look at it this way: you'll never be paying out that life insurance policy.
