Dream: The Future of Marine Xenolography
Tue, Jan 30th:
A grad student reported to a windowless lab and signed into the simulator. A robotic squid-tentacle retracted to lay along the ceiling above him. He sat at the controls and piloted an experimental dolphin-drone through the tank outside. If their program was successful, these robots would someday handle all of the porposes' most menial and dangerous tasks.
The dolphin-shaped drone had four radial fins on its tail and just behind the head, like an air-to-air missile. The student had to use the drone to acquire food while avoiding predatorshammerheads and other sharks wandered the tank, while the robotic giant squid arm lurked below and other hazards, such as an encounter with one of the many naval mines or being accidentally swallowed by a huge whale-drone.
I handed discoflamingo an install disc for a Linux distro from 1,000 years in the future. He beamed excitedly and stared at it, wondering whether the processor architecture of the future would be sufficiently similar to ours that he could install it at home. We sat in a small observation chamber, but I couldn't tell what it was meant to observe. I think I picked up the disc while visiting the drone-lab. We debated whether or not the penguin would still be a meaningful mascot, given that it would be extinct by that time. Someone else suggested they could use a different Antarctic animal, such as the whale. discoflamingo tried to explain to her why that didn't make any sense.
In another lab, researchers conversed with a whale. Tiny colored lights flashed whenever it spoke. Something went wrong with the whaleI think it might have been hit by a naval mineand the brass upstairs fretted at the huge setback. Steve and the other researchers reassured the brass that whales were only the most convenient and numerous of the marine intelligences, and that they had two other marine quadrapeds on-site that were good candidates for research.
Steve walked into a large annex where six or eight prehistoric marine creatures ambled around. (Apparently, they were all amphibious.) He made cooing sounds and hand motions to signal the animals back into their private enclosures. They were all at least his size, and a few outweighed him. He confidently walked past something like a giant turtle.
The first candidate, a manatee-shaped creature, falumphed into its cell and approached the new research terminal. Fine, pale blue scales covered its body from the tail to just behind its articulated flippers. Its avian head looked small compared to the body, but its yellow eyes gleamed with comprehension.
Steve walked past the manatee-thing, then balked at a centaur-shaped quadraped whose powerful arms ended in mantis-like scythes more than a foot long. Huge armored plates covered the predator, and we could all see it was agitated by the commotion. Steve withdrew to the lab and fiddled with things. The scythe-beast returned to its cell.
A woman in a lab coat rushed into the cell. The flashing yellow lights in the hallway spilled into the room until the door shut behind her. She knelt beside a whale the size of a small sofa and urgently checked its vitals. Something had gone wrong with the teleport conduit, landing the creature in the cell instead of a marine tank. As she felt along its back, the creature spoke in reassuring tones. Its tail split down the center, and the creature's mass shifted into its limbs. A deep, feminine voice flowed from its shrinking mouth, explaining that it was not the humpback they'd sought, but a visiting narwhal. The researcher leaned over its head and saw the tusk, disappearing into the jaw as the lips split down the center.
Moments later, the researcher and the now-humanoid whale-woman ran into the hallway, following the flashing lights toward the crisis. The whale-woman checked the green indicators on her whale-pistol and set it for stun.
Steve checked the instruments and cursed. The marine life had all been locked down, but a few insect specimens had escaped during the confusion. A giant rhinoceros beetle smashed through a wall into the hallway outside the lab, leveling its toxic horn in a challenge. Steve slid the door shut and barred it just before the massive beetle bent it inwards. As the monster wandered down the corridor, Steve unlatched an exterminator's hand-held spray-canister and edged cautiously to the lab door. My friend asked him what was in the canister, and Steve told us it was ricin. My friend paled and suggested we hold our breath; I told him that wouldn't be good enough.
A grad student reported to a windowless lab and signed into the simulator. A robotic squid-tentacle retracted to lay along the ceiling above him. He sat at the controls and piloted an experimental dolphin-drone through the tank outside. If their program was successful, these robots would someday handle all of the porposes' most menial and dangerous tasks.
The dolphin-shaped drone had four radial fins on its tail and just behind the head, like an air-to-air missile. The student had to use the drone to acquire food while avoiding predatorshammerheads and other sharks wandered the tank, while the robotic giant squid arm lurked below and other hazards, such as an encounter with one of the many naval mines or being accidentally swallowed by a huge whale-drone.
I handed discoflamingo an install disc for a Linux distro from 1,000 years in the future. He beamed excitedly and stared at it, wondering whether the processor architecture of the future would be sufficiently similar to ours that he could install it at home. We sat in a small observation chamber, but I couldn't tell what it was meant to observe. I think I picked up the disc while visiting the drone-lab. We debated whether or not the penguin would still be a meaningful mascot, given that it would be extinct by that time. Someone else suggested they could use a different Antarctic animal, such as the whale. discoflamingo tried to explain to her why that didn't make any sense.
In another lab, researchers conversed with a whale. Tiny colored lights flashed whenever it spoke. Something went wrong with the whaleI think it might have been hit by a naval mineand the brass upstairs fretted at the huge setback. Steve and the other researchers reassured the brass that whales were only the most convenient and numerous of the marine intelligences, and that they had two other marine quadrapeds on-site that were good candidates for research.
Steve walked into a large annex where six or eight prehistoric marine creatures ambled around. (Apparently, they were all amphibious.) He made cooing sounds and hand motions to signal the animals back into their private enclosures. They were all at least his size, and a few outweighed him. He confidently walked past something like a giant turtle.
The first candidate, a manatee-shaped creature, falumphed into its cell and approached the new research terminal. Fine, pale blue scales covered its body from the tail to just behind its articulated flippers. Its avian head looked small compared to the body, but its yellow eyes gleamed with comprehension.
Steve walked past the manatee-thing, then balked at a centaur-shaped quadraped whose powerful arms ended in mantis-like scythes more than a foot long. Huge armored plates covered the predator, and we could all see it was agitated by the commotion. Steve withdrew to the lab and fiddled with things. The scythe-beast returned to its cell.
A woman in a lab coat rushed into the cell. The flashing yellow lights in the hallway spilled into the room until the door shut behind her. She knelt beside a whale the size of a small sofa and urgently checked its vitals. Something had gone wrong with the teleport conduit, landing the creature in the cell instead of a marine tank. As she felt along its back, the creature spoke in reassuring tones. Its tail split down the center, and the creature's mass shifted into its limbs. A deep, feminine voice flowed from its shrinking mouth, explaining that it was not the humpback they'd sought, but a visiting narwhal. The researcher leaned over its head and saw the tusk, disappearing into the jaw as the lips split down the center.
Moments later, the researcher and the now-humanoid whale-woman ran into the hallway, following the flashing lights toward the crisis. The whale-woman checked the green indicators on her whale-pistol and set it for stun.
Steve checked the instruments and cursed. The marine life had all been locked down, but a few insect specimens had escaped during the confusion. A giant rhinoceros beetle smashed through a wall into the hallway outside the lab, leveling its toxic horn in a challenge. Steve slid the door shut and barred it just before the massive beetle bent it inwards. As the monster wandered down the corridor, Steve unlatched an exterminator's hand-held spray-canister and edged cautiously to the lab door. My friend asked him what was in the canister, and Steve told us it was ricin. My friend paled and suggested we hold our breath; I told him that wouldn't be good enough.