an idea / daily pirates...
So, it shouldn't take this long to write down an idea...
Does the description work well enough?
(This should also be in email, for convenience.)
“Do we just use this for training, then?” Marcus asked, as they strapped onto him the censor nodes. The adjustor-cables held him in a standing position where he was magnetized to the safe-platform in the center of the rounded room.
“Yeah,” Kelvin answered, checking that transmitters were correctly placed, grabbing anchor cables to pull himself around as he hovered. “More often for certain crew, like new pilots, or the gunners. We dump the kid in here all the time, since he’s got the most to learn.”
“Hey, I heard that,” came an indignant young voice, over the commline.
Kelvin grinned, an innocent lopsided smirk. “But everybody gets a user interface, since Captain uses it as rewards, you know. Everybody gets a couple hours a week, unless they misbehave. Extra for heroism and things like that, effort or ass-kissing over and above, you know? And we have got some great, great programs… We just got one a few weeks ago, with an entire tropical island on it. It’s an entire external drive of memory, just for the one program. It’s so great-we can hook it into other programs as a backdrop, and it’ll host the narratives in its own-”
“Are you still getting him dressed?” the youthful annoyance came over the line again.
“Okay, okay, I got him,” Kelvin called, grabbing Marcus by the arm and spinning around him so that he could prod a few of the censor nodes and pull at a few of the resistance cables. “Yeah, he’s all set,” he called to the invisible kid. “You’re ready to format in,” he told the new crewman.
“Great,” Marcus replied, inattentively, examining the bulky gloves as the computer tech sealed the door behind himself, shutting Marcus in alone in the simulator. The recruit squinted around the grey cylindrical room through the 3-D goggles.
A moment later, a different door opened and Kelvin pushed himself into the computer room where Spider was flicking his attention between display screens, tapping the central touch-pad.
“You got me an interface setup?” asked Kelvin.
“Yeah,” Spider said, setting the interface globe afloat so that he could move out of Kelvin’s way. There wasn’t much space to be out of the way, but the two managed to fold up inside the tiny room.
“Okay,” Kelvin muttered, absentmindedly instructing as he laid his hands into the depressions on each side of the interface globe and began fingering in commands. “The program will do most of the work for you-I just need to input a new username, and it’ll process the censor readings and throw together an initial rendering automatically. All right…” Kelvin droned. “I’m getting readings from all of the censors... Turn around a few times,” he called over the commline to the man inside the sim-room. The new crewman rotated, slowly. Spider stared over Kelvin’s shoulder, both of them watching the crude line-frame image forming as it moved on the left high-def screen. “Hold out your arms, pal,” Kelvin called. The man complied, and the computer screen reflected the posture.
In the computer room, Kelvin pointed something out on one of the screens, the younger one nodding. “We need to do a bit more adjustment, here,” Spider called through into the simulator. “It’s an old game engine, you know, so we’ve got more things to set.” Kelvin opened another computer program with a few clicks in the globe.
“So, uh-raise your arms,” called Kelvin over the commline. The tall gunmen held his hands over his head as he kept turning, looking like a hostage. Inside the computer room, the two young men watched as the computer added detail to the rendering of Marcus.
“Is that enough?” Spider asked, once the commline snapped off.
“Mm-almost,” Kelvin replied, as the two glanced at each other. Kelvin switched into the commline again.
“Okay, now… Wave your arms a bit. Come on. No, no, not too fast, I want it to have some time to register your height and movement…” The computer image hesitated, and then began a reticent, awkward sort of dance.
“Go ahead and move around a bit more,” Kelvin called. “Hey, stay on the platform! I don’t want you stomping magboots on the imagers.” The gunman hesitated again, and then switched to more comfortable movements-jerking his arms in martial arts-like movements.
“Switch to something faster,” Spider called over the commline, while looking at the imaging display. “Pretend you’re shooting people.”
Inside the sim-room, Marcus had to think for a second, and then cupped his hands into a pistol shape, and began to threaten imaginary foes around the room.
“Now, uh, let’s fill in some details,” Kelvin called. “Scrunch down and grab your toes, okay?” Marcus bent down to touch his feet, and the computer rendition of him folded up just as awkwardly.
“Right, then,” called Kelvin. “Now… go ahead and straighten your legs… No, still keep touching your toes…” The recruit unfolded partially, and Kelvin switched off the commline to glare at Spider, who had a hand clamped over his mouth below laughing eyes. “And,” Kelvin announced, “Go ahead and wiggle that a bit for us.”
Marcus stood up immediately, glaring around the room as he tried to guess which vid-feed the others were watching. Choosing a likely direction, he gave them a very explicit signal.
“Can you dance again?” Spider asked through the commline.
“That’s it, I’m done,” Marcus snapped, reaching down to disconnect one of the cables holding him to the floor.
“Hey, we’re not done,” Spider called over the commline. “And don’t you dare get off that platform in those boots.”
“What?” Marcus demanded, turning to look for the vid-feed again, the cable floating and rippling from his wrist. “I’m not putting up with any more-“
“Come on, big guy, be a sport,” Kelvin called, sounding as if he was trying very hard to not laugh. “We just have to set the interaction levels. Come on. Almost done.” There was a pause, and then a minimal green sphere appeared, not far in front of Marcus, but over his head. “Put a finger on that dot. But reattach that cable first.”
Marcus looked around a bit longer before he concluded that there couldn’t be much mockery in finishing the input. He bent to reconnect the cable back to the platform, then glared a moment before reaching up to place his finger on the dot.
“Does it look like you’re touching it?” called Spider. “But not pushing through it?”
“Uh, yes?” Marcus answered.
“Okay,” Kelvin’s voice cut through. “Put your hand around the red bar behind you.”
Marcus turned, feeling the cables rotate with him. Behind him he could see a vaguely three-dimensional image of a red pipe. He reached out, closing his hand around the image, slightly disoriented at being able to still, slightly, see his fingers on the other side of it.
“That looks right,” he called to the young men in the control room.
“Great,” called Kelvin. “Now-reach down to touch that blue dot off to your left.”
Marcus did as he was told, and then waited.
“Okay,” Kelvin called again. “We’re gonna do those three again, but wait a second so I can switch on the gravity.”
Marcus looked down at the cables as he felt them tighten, pulling his arms, waist, and knees toward the floor, simulating weight. He buckled.
“You could do that gradually,” he grumbled half-heartedly. That, at least, was straightforward-less embarrassing. He braced his feet, and pushed himself up. He squared his shoulders.
“This is gradually,” Spider’s voice replied, with a slight smirk in it. “You’re at half-gravity. It’s enough for testing the setup.”
“Green dot, over your head,” Kelvin added.
Marcus looked up at it. He raised a hand slowly, the cables holding him back half-heartedly. It was a satisfying sensation, pushing against the restraints. Exactly as his eyes believed he was touching the tiny sphere, he felt something round pressing back against his finger. He turned the bulky glove to look at his fingers.
“These are great,” he commented.
“Yeah-grab the bar.”
Marcus turned, stumbling a bit under the artificial weight of the adjusting cables. He reached out for the image of the red stripe, and smiled when he felt its roundness in the palm of his hand.
“Pretty great, huh?” Spider commented over the line. Marcus looked around again, this time with a grin.
“Absolutely,” he said, looking around for the blue dot. He reached out, and this time, instead of simply extending a finger to it, he pinched the tiny image. His glove registered the attempt as a small firm sphere between his fingers. “This hardware is amazing.”
“Hey,” Kelvin called. “Wait a second.” Kelvin did not turn off the commline, and Marcus heard him muttering instructions to the boy in the computer room with him. “Now try to move it,” they called to him. Marcus responded by cupping his hand around the dot, and pulling it toward himself. It resisted his hand, and then he moved it up to chest level, holding the shadowy dot in his hand, feeling the weight of it. He looked up again.
“I thought you said this was an old system?”
There was a pause.
“It is,” said Kelvin. “But then we let the twins start playing with it.
“You wanna see the island?”
Does the description work well enough?
(This should also be in email, for convenience.)
“Do we just use this for training, then?” Marcus asked, as they strapped onto him the censor nodes. The adjustor-cables held him in a standing position where he was magnetized to the safe-platform in the center of the rounded room.
“Yeah,” Kelvin answered, checking that transmitters were correctly placed, grabbing anchor cables to pull himself around as he hovered. “More often for certain crew, like new pilots, or the gunners. We dump the kid in here all the time, since he’s got the most to learn.”
“Hey, I heard that,” came an indignant young voice, over the commline.
Kelvin grinned, an innocent lopsided smirk. “But everybody gets a user interface, since Captain uses it as rewards, you know. Everybody gets a couple hours a week, unless they misbehave. Extra for heroism and things like that, effort or ass-kissing over and above, you know? And we have got some great, great programs… We just got one a few weeks ago, with an entire tropical island on it. It’s an entire external drive of memory, just for the one program. It’s so great-we can hook it into other programs as a backdrop, and it’ll host the narratives in its own-”
“Are you still getting him dressed?” the youthful annoyance came over the line again.
“Okay, okay, I got him,” Kelvin called, grabbing Marcus by the arm and spinning around him so that he could prod a few of the censor nodes and pull at a few of the resistance cables. “Yeah, he’s all set,” he called to the invisible kid. “You’re ready to format in,” he told the new crewman.
“Great,” Marcus replied, inattentively, examining the bulky gloves as the computer tech sealed the door behind himself, shutting Marcus in alone in the simulator. The recruit squinted around the grey cylindrical room through the 3-D goggles.
A moment later, a different door opened and Kelvin pushed himself into the computer room where Spider was flicking his attention between display screens, tapping the central touch-pad.
“You got me an interface setup?” asked Kelvin.
“Yeah,” Spider said, setting the interface globe afloat so that he could move out of Kelvin’s way. There wasn’t much space to be out of the way, but the two managed to fold up inside the tiny room.
“Okay,” Kelvin muttered, absentmindedly instructing as he laid his hands into the depressions on each side of the interface globe and began fingering in commands. “The program will do most of the work for you-I just need to input a new username, and it’ll process the censor readings and throw together an initial rendering automatically. All right…” Kelvin droned. “I’m getting readings from all of the censors... Turn around a few times,” he called over the commline to the man inside the sim-room. The new crewman rotated, slowly. Spider stared over Kelvin’s shoulder, both of them watching the crude line-frame image forming as it moved on the left high-def screen. “Hold out your arms, pal,” Kelvin called. The man complied, and the computer screen reflected the posture.
In the computer room, Kelvin pointed something out on one of the screens, the younger one nodding. “We need to do a bit more adjustment, here,” Spider called through into the simulator. “It’s an old game engine, you know, so we’ve got more things to set.” Kelvin opened another computer program with a few clicks in the globe.
“So, uh-raise your arms,” called Kelvin over the commline. The tall gunmen held his hands over his head as he kept turning, looking like a hostage. Inside the computer room, the two young men watched as the computer added detail to the rendering of Marcus.
“Is that enough?” Spider asked, once the commline snapped off.
“Mm-almost,” Kelvin replied, as the two glanced at each other. Kelvin switched into the commline again.
“Okay, now… Wave your arms a bit. Come on. No, no, not too fast, I want it to have some time to register your height and movement…” The computer image hesitated, and then began a reticent, awkward sort of dance.
“Go ahead and move around a bit more,” Kelvin called. “Hey, stay on the platform! I don’t want you stomping magboots on the imagers.” The gunman hesitated again, and then switched to more comfortable movements-jerking his arms in martial arts-like movements.
“Switch to something faster,” Spider called over the commline, while looking at the imaging display. “Pretend you’re shooting people.”
Inside the sim-room, Marcus had to think for a second, and then cupped his hands into a pistol shape, and began to threaten imaginary foes around the room.
“Now, uh, let’s fill in some details,” Kelvin called. “Scrunch down and grab your toes, okay?” Marcus bent down to touch his feet, and the computer rendition of him folded up just as awkwardly.
“Right, then,” called Kelvin. “Now… go ahead and straighten your legs… No, still keep touching your toes…” The recruit unfolded partially, and Kelvin switched off the commline to glare at Spider, who had a hand clamped over his mouth below laughing eyes. “And,” Kelvin announced, “Go ahead and wiggle that a bit for us.”
Marcus stood up immediately, glaring around the room as he tried to guess which vid-feed the others were watching. Choosing a likely direction, he gave them a very explicit signal.
“Can you dance again?” Spider asked through the commline.
“That’s it, I’m done,” Marcus snapped, reaching down to disconnect one of the cables holding him to the floor.
“Hey, we’re not done,” Spider called over the commline. “And don’t you dare get off that platform in those boots.”
“What?” Marcus demanded, turning to look for the vid-feed again, the cable floating and rippling from his wrist. “I’m not putting up with any more-“
“Come on, big guy, be a sport,” Kelvin called, sounding as if he was trying very hard to not laugh. “We just have to set the interaction levels. Come on. Almost done.” There was a pause, and then a minimal green sphere appeared, not far in front of Marcus, but over his head. “Put a finger on that dot. But reattach that cable first.”
Marcus looked around a bit longer before he concluded that there couldn’t be much mockery in finishing the input. He bent to reconnect the cable back to the platform, then glared a moment before reaching up to place his finger on the dot.
“Does it look like you’re touching it?” called Spider. “But not pushing through it?”
“Uh, yes?” Marcus answered.
“Okay,” Kelvin’s voice cut through. “Put your hand around the red bar behind you.”
Marcus turned, feeling the cables rotate with him. Behind him he could see a vaguely three-dimensional image of a red pipe. He reached out, closing his hand around the image, slightly disoriented at being able to still, slightly, see his fingers on the other side of it.
“That looks right,” he called to the young men in the control room.
“Great,” called Kelvin. “Now-reach down to touch that blue dot off to your left.”
Marcus did as he was told, and then waited.
“Okay,” Kelvin called again. “We’re gonna do those three again, but wait a second so I can switch on the gravity.”
Marcus looked down at the cables as he felt them tighten, pulling his arms, waist, and knees toward the floor, simulating weight. He buckled.
“You could do that gradually,” he grumbled half-heartedly. That, at least, was straightforward-less embarrassing. He braced his feet, and pushed himself up. He squared his shoulders.
“This is gradually,” Spider’s voice replied, with a slight smirk in it. “You’re at half-gravity. It’s enough for testing the setup.”
“Green dot, over your head,” Kelvin added.
Marcus looked up at it. He raised a hand slowly, the cables holding him back half-heartedly. It was a satisfying sensation, pushing against the restraints. Exactly as his eyes believed he was touching the tiny sphere, he felt something round pressing back against his finger. He turned the bulky glove to look at his fingers.
“These are great,” he commented.
“Yeah-grab the bar.”
Marcus turned, stumbling a bit under the artificial weight of the adjusting cables. He reached out for the image of the red stripe, and smiled when he felt its roundness in the palm of his hand.
“Pretty great, huh?” Spider commented over the line. Marcus looked around again, this time with a grin.
“Absolutely,” he said, looking around for the blue dot. He reached out, and this time, instead of simply extending a finger to it, he pinched the tiny image. His glove registered the attempt as a small firm sphere between his fingers. “This hardware is amazing.”
“Hey,” Kelvin called. “Wait a second.” Kelvin did not turn off the commline, and Marcus heard him muttering instructions to the boy in the computer room with him. “Now try to move it,” they called to him. Marcus responded by cupping his hand around the dot, and pulling it toward himself. It resisted his hand, and then he moved it up to chest level, holding the shadowy dot in his hand, feeling the weight of it. He looked up again.
“I thought you said this was an old system?”
There was a pause.
“It is,” said Kelvin. “But then we let the twins start playing with it.
“You wanna see the island?”