Jul 07, 2008 00:36
Owning Commander Vimes for a day wasn’t something he’d actually planned on. It’d just sort of happened. He was certain there was a reason he'd bid one hundred hours on him (it didn't sound that radical until one considered that they were hours paid in excruciating paperwork) - a good reason. But as things stood, the T-1000 had no idea what to actually do with him.
He tried to consider the things he normally did for entertainment. There was running away from dinosaurs. Beating up Ronon (though it was hardly one-sided). Sex.
None of those were very applicable in this specific case.
It had brought them to the rec room, which was the core center of passive entertainment on the island.
He glared intently at the bookshelf, thinking hard about law enforcement, guns, general crime related miscellany, and explosions. The T-1000 liked explosions, unless he happened to be placed directly inside of one.
That usually wasn’t all that pleasant.
He began to collect the offered reels, glancing sideways at the Commander, who didn't seem terribly enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. But the Commander rarely seemed enthusiastic about anything, so he didn’t take it too personally.
"Were there movies on the Disc?" he wondered. Technologically deficient or not, there were things on the Disc that defied logic in every possible way, and in some ways that weren't exactly possible. If they had terminator equivalents made of clay, there was no reason there couldn't be a movie-showing... device/creature/thing.
reese,
vimes