Thomasina and the Computer

[miss_thomasina]

The room with the computers in it - computer lab, Thomasina thinks she's heard it called - is empty this particular Thursday afternoon. The Professor who taught classes there hasn't been seen for weeks and his students, who kept showing up for their lessons just in case have stopped making even that much effort some time since. People still stop by

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[addams_daughter]

Wednesday is lost. She knows this, because she has no idea where she is. She has some vague idea that she was late for something, but cannot find her pocketwatch and her nose won't wriggle, so she's discarded that idea for the moment.

But she's definitely lost.

The door to the computer lab being wide open, she wanders in. "Excuse me?" she asked, clinging to a moment of lucidity. "Where am I?"

[miss_thomasina]

Thomasina doesn't turn away from her conversation with the computer for a rather long moment, instead continuing to talk it through the latest set of mathematical manipulations she wants it to perform. Eventually, though, she realises that someone has said something to her and she turns to find out what. The girl standing in the doorway hardly rates as unusual on the scale of unusual things she's encountered recently, though she has the palest skin and straightest, blackest hair of anyone Thomasina can ever recall meeting before.

Excuse me. Sorry. Yes? Did you ask me something?

[addams_daughter]

"Yes," Wednesday confirms, "I did." She seems to lose interest in the conversation after that, wandering over to look at the screen of Tomasina's computer. "What are you doing?"

[miss_thomasina]

Oh. Thomasina considers for a moment, then decides that if the girl really wanted to know the answer to whatever question she had asked, she would ask again and moves on to answering the new one.

Well, I'm figuring out how much algebra it knows. It's done very well so far. See? She gestures to the set of graphs the computer is currently displaying. It's ever so much better than having to do it all with a pen and paper.

[addams_daughter]

"I have a computer," Wednesday volunteered. "It's black. Mother calls it an abomination, but Father likes gadgets...." She made a concerted effort to regain her train of thought. "What program are you using? The colors are pretty... I don't think I've seen it before?"

[miss_thomasina]

Oh! I don't see how it could be an abomination! It's far too useful. Thomasina smiles at the graphs the screen continues to display. But . . . what's a programme? Is it like a list of things that will happen?

[addams_daughter]

"I think," Wednesday stopped and cocked her head. "I hear bells...."

[miss_thomasina]

Bells? I don't . . . Thomasina trails off in the middle of her sentence to listen, carefully, trying to hear whatever it is that the other girl obviously seems to. She supposes a bell somewhere might have just chimed the hour - one'o'clock? two? she's really not sure, but there is nothing to be heard now aside from the hum of all the machines surrounding them and assorted far-off noises of the school of an afternoon. After just a few moments, however, she regains her presence of mind. Did it just chime the hour, then?

[addams_daughter]

"I'm not sure...." Wednesday drifted away a few steps before spinning in place and looking around, confused. "I was sure I was in the garden. Did the plants all run away?"

[miss_thomasina]

Thomasina had been surprised at the abrupt switch in topics of conversation the other girl had pulled just a moment before, but now she was truly taken aback. After all, far-off bells so faint that she missed their chime were conceivable, but she did not see how anyone could possibly mistake this room for a garden. Why, there wasn't anything in it that even began to resemble a plant! Still, she is as well-mannered as a childhood as the daughter of a countess could make her and her training requires her to not notice the oddness, so she doesn't. No, I don't think they did . . . perhaps you were dreaming? I often dream of the gardens at home. The old ones, though. The new ones aren't nearly so nice.

[addams_daughter]

Wednesday frowned, fighting the urge to wander off. It was like thinking through a particularly large and fuzzy blanket. "I'm... sorry. Something odd happened this afternoon and I've been out of sorts."

She couldn't remember what had happened, but she couldn't concentrate on the lack either. She forced herself to concentrate even as the thoughts slipped through her fingers. "The... program. The thing that tells the computer how to do the problems for you."

[miss_thomasina]

Something odd happened? That's not surprising around here. I can understand how it could put you out of sorts, though. Thomasina smiles sympathetically at the other girl as she follows the twist the conversation has taken back towards one of its original topics and pauses to consider her final statement. And, well, I've been telling the computer what to do . . . does that make me the program?

[addams_daughter]

"Does it speak in tongues?" Wednesday asked, expression solemn.

[miss_thomasina]

Does it speak in tongues - Thomasina repeats, like it was possessed by a demon? Well, I don't think so. It hasn't ever spoken to me, anyway. I've just been telling it what to do and it's done it. And very well, too, she adds.

[addams_daughter]

"What do you tell it to do?" Wednesday's eyes were wide. "Do you whisper secret words...?"

[miss_thomasina]

I don't think they're awfully secret, really. Thomasina pauses again to consider just what it is that she's been doing. But I do tell it things. I told it to do simple things first. Add things. And subtract things. Things like that. It knows how to do much more complicated things than that, though. She tries to think of something interesting she can do to demonstrate, then spots the apple she brought with her from the cafeteria - and its attendant leaf, which she plucks and holds up for Wednesday's perusal. I should think it could even graph this leaf for me!