| From: | Nightblade <wgreason@*****.OCIS.TEMPLE.EDU> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Daily workout |
| Date: | Mon, 16 Dec 1996 20:05:42 -0500 |
information
on two facilities in the Seattle area. Astral reconnaissance preferred.
Operative should be new to Seattle. Very attractive pay.]<<<<<
-- Ms. Johnston <18:32:00 / 12-16-57>
*****INTERNAL: Musphelheim Worshop, SecCam Log D1696, Island Omnicron
>>>>>[+++++begin trid: Log D1696
As the picture fades into coherence, you see a 70 by 100 foot room with
hardwood paneled floors and white rubber-padded walls. Directly across
the room, you see an 18" diameter ball with a monocam in the front
center. Slowly the image pans to the left until an apparently identical ball
lines up in the center of the screen, its monocam also points directly at
you. The image then moves back across the room, passing the initial orb
and stopping to meet the electronic gaze of a third.
The screen then returns to the original position, freezes for a moment,
and begins to rise.
"Prepping exercise programs Alpha through Gamma, sir."
A door slams somewhere off camera.
"Fine, Otis. Send Hortensia down when she's ready."
"Yes, sir."
The screen abruptly stops rising, and the camera's again take a look at
each other.
"Have the orbs responded to testing?"
"Yes, sir. The AI has no problems running them on the grounds, it should
have no problem with just four ports in a training room."
"Let's see if I can surprise you."
Neither of the speakers have yet become visible to the camera's eye.
The sound of mechanized pulleys accompanies the soft whistling of fans
from above. After about ten seconds, the cameraview runs forward toward
the opposite orb until all three orbs, one to the left, right, and center
all simultaneously visible.
"Checking cameras, sir."
The screen flashes once... twice ... three times ... and then four.
"One hundred percent, sir."
"Which one will be on me, Otis?"
"Camera four, sir."
"Let's just start with that one then, shall we?"
"You're payin' me, sir."
A slight chuckle from below the camera.
Quickly, the screen flashes three times, with no apparent change in view ...
for a moment, then the other three camera-orbs rise off screen.
Then, the view begins to descend, rotating downwards as it does.
The camera focuses on a large, dark-skinned, bald-headed human in a tattered
gray robe, sitting cross-legged in the center of the room. As it gets closer
to the ground, the view again rotates ... this time upwards, to maintain
a view of the man.
His head is bowed in seeming meditation. In relation to the man, the camera
appears to be about two feet off the ground. The view rolls forward.
"You can recoil the wire, Otis. I have it."
<pik> The cameraview descends slightly before evening out. The camera then
rises a couple feet and focuses on the back of the man's head. Beads of
sweat form on the smooth-shaved, brown skin. At the edge of the screen, you
see his left hand rise to his right shoulder and slowly push the cloth
from it. Then his right hand does the same to the left shoulder. The robes
falls silently to the floor around him.
Seemingly in slow motion, the man rises ... and the view follows him staying
a couple inches above his head behind him. The camera pans downward
capturing the man's image from behind. He is wearing a navy blue
LyrcaExercise suit. His body is very toned and very muscular, yet there
is something understated about his physique.
His bare feet step out of the robe and the camera follows him forward.
Without warning, his placid gaze suddenly cuts into the eye of the
camera--but he had not turned around! He neither smiles nor frowns,
simply stares forward into the unblinking eye.
"Are we ready to begin?"
The bass is not quite baritone, yet remarkably steady ... almost artificial.
"Standing by, sir."
"Programs alpha through gamma, you said?"
"Yes, sir."
Stretching his arms backwards and upwards, his joints create louder pops than
most fireworks displays. He yawns.
"Very well, then. Kammapa Obatala."
Instantly, the room is plunged into darkness. A Blue symbol flashes in the
upper left corner of the screen and a moment later, a figure appears in
the middle of the screen. It is roughly the same height and build as the
darkskinned man. You realize that this is an ultrasound viewfinder.
There are several whistling sounds through the room, some of them stop
with a click, but others continue ... The blue figure runs across the room
then jumps upward ... you see him grab onto what appears to be some kind of
trapeze with his hands, swinging forward then back and then forward again,
he executes a double-flip and grabs onto another. From this bar, he
flips upwards again, but hits the ceiling with his hands and insteps of
his feet and sticks.
"So, Otis, will you please send in the opposition?"
Before he finished the sentence, the man had raced midway across the ceiling
and launched himself at a pole in the far corner of the room. Swinging
around it twice, he uses it to throw himself at a figure that was seemingly
rising from the floor.
With a loud crack, the figure's head flies off and lands with a clunk on
the floor.
A giggle filters into the room.
"Oh ho, so you think putting up wooden dummies will make think in this
exercise, eh?"
"I certainly hope so. I'm not cleaning up the mess you make putting your
foot through someone's face!"
Dropping to his knees to avoid a sharp projectile (which whizzes by the
camera, missing it by inches), the exerciser says, "That was an accident.
It will never happen again."
"That's why I _stopped_ practicing with you!"
The figure executes a tumbling pass across the room, and
<THUNK>
"whoops."
<KRACK>
The figure awkwardly flies into the nearest wall to the right of the
camera. And the view dutifully follows him, bouncing off the way then
hovering above the fallen athlete.
"Otis, an invisible partner ... and a strong one, too. My how innovative
you are..."
"We aims to ..."
<Krunch> as the floor where the athlete had just be laying suddenly
finds itself four inches deeper than it used to be.
"Please, sir." You can hear the smirk from wherever it is.
"Well, Otis... you certainly have earned your raise this week! But
forgive me if I don't let your buddy here have another shot at me ..."
After backflipping up the wall from the floor, the athlete leapt up and
grabbed a series of handholds mounted in the ceiling, climbing across it
to distance himself from the unseen foe.
A projectile extends from the floor and wraps around his leg ...
"Grrrr. Otis!"
"You wanted a test, sir."
"Indeed, I did!!"
Yanked from the handholds, he begins to fall, but abruptly stops in midair
and rotates into a standing position. He reaches down and takes hold of
the rope wrapped around his left leg and pulls.
With a loud snap, it comes loose from its anchor and something shimmers
briefly on the ground...
"That's all I needed ..."
Still floating in midair, the athlete stretches out his arms and his
hands begin to glow gold ...
<KRAKOW>
A bolt of energy surges from his hands, and strikes his attacker down in
a hail of luminescent sparks.
"Lights!"
Immediately, the room is illuminated. The man is about 30 feet off the
ground, about 10 ten feet from the ceiling. As he descends towards his
opponent, a poorly put together robot, with a piledriver for right arms
and a roughly mid-20th century mechanical claw for a left arm ...
"Otis, it is a miracle you even had this thing running."
"Now, don'tcha feel kinda dumb for having to cast a Lightning bolt on it?"
The man places his hands on his hips and laughs ... a large echoing sound
that fills the room and makes the camera shake.
"Indeed, I am, Otis. Well done, very well done.
At the other end of the room, which is in the process of retracting all
the poles, trapeze, anchors, and assorted gymnasium equipment, a door opens
and a short dark-skinned woman with a short, neon blue Afro walks in.
"So I missed, huh?"
"Not necessarily, sister! Otis' toy was simply a warm-up ... I've been
waiting for our first brother-sister tussle."
"Y'know, f'r someone so rich, y'r awf'lly dumb!"
"Well, I was smart enough to find your arse and pull it out of the sewer, now
wasn't I?"
"Ya better saw somethin' else, cuz those would be some crappy last words."
As she leaps at him, she becomes a panther and knocks him down--pinning
him to the floor.
"Otis, kill camera four please ..."
The screen begins to fade to black.
"Ah, so ya know not t'have any records o'me whuppin' y'r butt!"
<mocking her>
"Ah, ah know not t'let anyone see just how much y've m'proved!!"
+++++end trid: Log D1696
This was the entire footage you requested.]<<<<<
-- Otis Drayton <20:00:32 / 12-16-57>
Household Technician
Musphelheim
*****INTERNAL: Musphelheim
>>>>>[Yes, thank you, Otis.
+++++credtransfer: >>encrypted<<
For another year of outstanding service.]<<<<<
-- He.Otalvaro <20:02:00 / 12-16-57>
Musphelheim
