Logs for ShadowRN and Associated Mailing Lists

From:	Jeffrey Mach <mach@****.CALTECH.EDU>
Subject:	Nothing in Particular: Pinnochio
Date:	Sun, 20 Apr 1997 20:04:20 -0700

Message no. 1 *****PRIVATE: Lilith
>>>>>[Lo how the mighty have fallen. Seems I've got myself good and
grounded for the near, but indeterminate future. Damned if I know
exactly what got me here, since to tell the truth, I don't quite remember
much of it anymore. From what Jenny (Vernier)--you know that blond who is
currently watching me like a hawk right now, (yes I can handle a little
e-mail via a deck thankyouverymuch)--tells me, I kind of lost it. It
being my grasp on reality, sanity, whatever. Now in the past few days
I've seen enough shrinks to give me a two inch neck, but they have started
telling me I'm most of the way home and that I should start trying to deal
with it and get on with my life. Now this message isn't exactly a
homework assignment, but it isn't completely my idea either. They kinda
suggested, since they don't know an afterburner from an aileron, that I
spill my guts to someone who'd have some vague notion of what the hell I'm
talking about. So, here goes.

Seems like what started me over the deep end was that out at the air field
where we are testing the Valkyrie prototype, they basically had me in the
air with that bird non-stop, sometimes doing mid-air refueling for
validation, and to not waste the time of me touching down. The "they" was
mostly this one hardass that I've heard got more than his tail-feathers
singed from on high, because he nearly got his lead test pilot reassigned
to a rubber room. This prototype is the real one with all the bells and
whistles. We didn't have the adaptive coloration scheme for one in the
sim--wouldn't have been fun to have us hunting each other for an hour--and
I could tell you more, but then I'd have to...well ask you nicely not to
tell another soul. Anyway, when the poor bird had enough and needed
another cycle of maintenance, they picked me up and tossed me in the
simulator, to synch the "feel" as good as possible, test out some less
than recommended maneuvers, and otherwise keep me and MAX jumping.

God, I miss MAX. Jenny says no harm done to her from me spazzing out, but
she's not letting us get in our usual tete a tete until my tete is fully
screwed on properly. You'd think the girl was jealous. Screw that, she
_is_ jealous.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. The big problem with me doing the sleep,
Valkyrie, eat, Valkyrie, breathe, Valkyrie routine was that I didn't see
it as a problem. I don't know if you have an experience like mine, but
whenever I toss aside my body for the meatpuppet it is and slip on a
beautiful warbird like that, the feeling is...I don't know...sexual, or at
least that's the way I used to see it. Damn doc said I was "destructively
reacting to certain self-esteem issues." I told him to try tearing the
sky like it was made of paper some time, jack out and not feel like your
flesh is just a bad joke. Besides, when I got my new rig, they did some
serious sensory interface work. They call it "enhanced situational
awareness" (another one of those classified things) as well as jacking my
rigged reflexes as far as they could. I mean, after a while it was like
stepping out of the pod was like having wings ripped off my back, an eye
and an ear pulled out, and a hundred pounds of lead saddled on my back. I
was numb, very uncomfortably numb, like being drugged up. Just the thing
to do before going to bed, neh? Which I think is why, some point before
the end, I stopped doing that too.

Oh yeah, and tack on losing your best friend. MAX and I--last time I
heard--were hitting synchro rates of over 90%. It must be something close
to what Jenny feels with her encephalon...just when things are getting a
bit too complicated, MAX was there to share the load, take care of the
stuff I just couldn't bother with, or give me a hand with what I was doing
just when I needed it. She's part of the system, so literally with the
rig she's just a thought away and inside my head whenever I want her. Also
has enough of a psych subroutine to do the real job of a REO: convincing
you that you're okay when all hell is breaking loose. I guess in the haze
I was in, I started thinking of MAX as a lot more human than she was
capable of being. I don't know. She was partially designed using engrams
from me, so in some ways she's like a sister I never had, but then, she's
only a machine.

The other major factor the docs said was that I saw my body as being not
much good for anything other than keeping my brain alive out there. Not
like you, Ms. Secret Agent woman/pilot/leatherneck lover. I was spending
so much time with it being plugged into a rig, I just started ignoring it,
and jacked in even after hours just to get the rush and stop feeling like
a rag doll. After a while, I stopped thinking straight and I have vague
recollections of not being able to easily tell when the simulation was
over and reality started. It seemed like when I had the rig system pouring
data into me I was okay, but I kinda went dead as soon as I jacked out,
like a puppet with its strings cut. The fact that I forgot to eat or
sleep ended me in the hospital, unconscious with a nutrient I.V. running
into my arm. One of the biotechs laughed that I had done a masterful job
of getting myself ready for brainwashing, which I guess, after a fashion,
is what I ended up doing to myself. I guess I'm glad I did it to
me--rather than somebody else--but I can't stop feeling like a damn fool.
As a minor concilation, some of the biotech's told me I wasn't alone.
They say that it can happen to anybody who goes too long out of touch with
themselves: riggers, even deckers. Every year they hear of some poor kid
who jacks in and never bothers to jack out, and it isn't because of any
ice.

So, my wings are clipped at work, until the fellows in white coats think I
am no longer a danger to myself. They say I didn't fry anything
permanently, and that I should be about to go back on duty once I get this
all straightened out, maybe less than a week or so. Besides, it isn't
like even the secondary test pilot out there has even half my hours, and
he doesn't have MAX. Jenny's told me, for anywhere near optimal
synchronization, the neural nets need to work with only one operator. The
next three nets, the first production models aren't finished yet. So,
flat out, they want me back ASAP, and want Jenny back at the lab working
on the nets. The old man is seeing if he can move her and the nets out
there so they can get an early start synching with their pilots, and also
I figure so she can keep an eye on me.

Meanwhile, Jenny's got me having fun the way normal people are supposed
to, eating out, clubbing, even got me to a holotheather, etc. etc. etc.
"You're going to feel like a flesh and blood person and like it," or
something like that. Got me to swear that I would never scare her like
this again. I'd almost hate to say it, but I'm feeling pretty good right
now.

If I think I'm up to it (*whap* okay, if she thinks I'm up to it, *whap*
and the psych boys), I think we'll make that _loooonnnggg_ over-due visit
to that friend of yours, Sacha, some time late this week or early next. I
won't feel like a real woman again until I dab a little bit of JP-X behind
my ears. And I won't trust myself until I can jack into a rig, fly, and
jack out again without losing myself in there.]<<<<<
-- Arashi <18:54:05/04-20-58 PST>

From:	"Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject:	Re: Nothing in Particular: Pinnochio
Date:	Mon, 21 Apr 1997 21:39:18 +0100

Message no. 2 *****PRIVATE: Arashi, Vernier
>>>>>[Grounded? Very nearly a fate worse than death. Though I'm reliably
informed that more people return to flying status than rise from the
dead...

Adaptive coloration on the Valkyrie? Ye gods, that one's going to be
nasty for anyone without thermal cybereyes. We looked at ruthenium
polymers for the MiGs: they give you a hell of an advantage in a
turning-and-burning fight, but they also cost more than the aircraft did
and we couldn't afford them.

Besides, turn-and-burn - fun or not - is #4 in the engagement sequence,
behind "head-on shot and blow through", "long-range BVR shot" and
"shoot
him from behind before he ever knew you were there". We spent the money
on buying extra airframes and on the DECM and weapon suite instead.

All that flight time in the Valkyrie... I don't know whether to pity you
or envy you.

As for like experiences... not really. Flying fighters for me is just an
extension of hunting. Lions and gazelle and long grass, and you just
play them all off against each other to get what you want. You just...
know where the prey will be, even if you can't see them or smell them,
you know how they'll react and which way they were moving last, you know
how long the lions will take to smell your kill and come to steal it.
It's still the real world, it's just a different shape through different
eyes.

And maybe I should lend you Jason for a while if you mistake flying for
sex :)

Jason doesn't have those problems, but he got his rig late: he'd been
flying rotary-wing for a decade before he got a VCR (had to have enough
money to uprate everything else enough to make room), and besides he's
so rooted in reality it's embarrasing.

Meanwhile, if you want to come and get some flight time with us, you'll
be very welcome. Apart from anything else, you'll have to get used to
our own style of flying. You rig in for feedback and sensory input, but
if you want to bank left, you have to use your archaic meat arm to grab
the archaic joystick and shove it over to the left :) Not quite as slick
as a WITAS interface, but more damage-tolerant.

We've got twelve pilots plus us coming on-stream: they range from okay
to pretty good. None of them in your league, but they work together
well. Should be an interesting ride in the simulator while we qual you
on the MiGs.

Going to be busy for a few days, but that ties in with your schedule
nicely. When you're ready to come down, let us know.]<<<<<
-- Lilith <21:39:51/04-21-58>

From:	Jeffrey Mach <mach@****.CALTECH.EDU>
Subject:	Re: Nothing in Particular: Pinnochio
Date:	Mon, 21 Apr 1997 21:26:50 -0700

Message no. 3 *****PRIVATE: Lilith
>>>>>[Heh...you tell me that a few days ago, and I would have told you I
felt like I had came back from the dead, or at least was almost back.

As for your side note, they didn't use ruthenium on the Valkyrie. WAY to
expensive, plus it interferes with the IR/EM stealth coatings. They used
some more durable, but way coarse resolution stuff. Just enough to make
it hard to spot until you would have seen her any other way, and enough to
confuse the optical tracking missiles. We don't need to disappear like
one of those Poltergeist stealth cargo jets. You know the ones, "you
can't see it, but it moves stuff around." Hate to be the cargomaster who
has to say to the haulers, "Just load it in the plane over there...or was
it over there?"

Look, I made a funny. And well, you can envy me all you want until a few
years from now when you'll be asked to qualify on one of them, then some
more years as they start to become obsolete. But you know the Air Force,
old planes don't die, they just exhaust the rest of the alphabet.

I like your hunting analogy...almost sounds like personal experience (?).
Can't say I've ever done any myself. Closest thing is when Security drops
me a line to make sure I come over and prove to them I can actually hit
the broad side of a barn with the sidearm I was issued, and wilderness
survival training that I take refreshers in every once in a while. If I'm
ever forced to punch out, it's strictly the hide part of hide and seek,
with my poncho (real ruthenium this time), purifier straw, and EX loaded
Crusader. I try to hole up and act like part of the landscape until the
good guys (tm) come to pick me up, and if it's too hot, sneak my way
towards friendly territory without being shot. So, I guess I would be
strictly on the herbivore side of your African tale.

As for lending me Jason, well, I thought you might have guessed by now
that he isn't my type. I mean Jenn and I, with our salaries, living
together, no boyfriends. We don't exactly scream it out because there are
still people out there that wouldn't mind their daughter going out with a
guy who happens to be a rastafarian troll, but if she happens to have a
crush on the girl next door, its the bloody end of the world. It's not
like you have any deep dark secrets, neh? (Unless that flaming red hair
of yours is from a bottle or a gene-treatment.)

I do want to get in some flight time with Sacha's birds. Damn I feel
stupid. I was hazy enough to call him your friend in that last post. He's
your (step)father? Anyway, I can handle a HOTAS just fine. What? You
think I didn't touch a plane until I got my rig? Heh. It'll be just like
old times. I'm just not quite as fast having to get that signal all the
way down my arm, to my wrist, to the stick, to the avionics, and out to
the wing. WITAS saves a few steps, even if it is a bit more delicate.
Also, I don't have any wires or anything. They wouldn't fit. Barely
squeezed in a Smartlink ][ which also ties into the rig, if I want it.

The engagement maneuvers sound familiar, #3 being my personal favorite.
"Blowing through" is usually an exercise in the structural integrity of
the plane, as in, just how much punishment can she take before she blows
up instead of through. Unless you have a hypersonic closing speed, of
course. Then your BVR shot becomes the head on.

Jenny's coming, too, not only to check out the jets and the hangars, but
I probably won't have shaken her out of babysitter mode yet.

>>Ack, hey, no fair, I'm jacked in and I can't fight back...gottcha...<<
+++++ connection terminated]<<<<<
-- Arashi <21:23:51/04-21-58>

From:	"Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject:	Re: Nothing in Particular: Pinnochio
Date:	Wed, 23 Apr 1997 01:55:33 +0100

Message no. 4 *****PRIVATE: Arashi
>>>>>[Hunting as personal experience... you didn't know I'm not human?
When I use Leopard Lady as my callsign I mean it literally. (Panthera
pardus/homo sapens) mutabilis, according to the current taxonomy.

I'd uprate your SERE training. No kidding, it really matters, you're
still the most valuable component in that airframe (if you're carrying
MAX's memory module even more so) and you do _not_ want to get captured
if possible.

We might be able to help you out a little there, too: at least give you
something a little classier than the Crusader as a survival weapon. Even
if you stay a loyal company girl, the Viper's a much better bet, if only
because the bad guys are then a lot less likely to hear your attempts to
turn Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail and Peter into dinner. Jason's bound to
offer you something from the last century... still, since he's the one
who introduced me to the Desert Eagle, I should hardly complain.

And yes, I had my suspicions about you and Jenny. Don't tell Quinn or
she'll ask if she can join in :) And you'd be surprised, I have more
than my share of deep dark secrets. Including some involving Quinn };)

Sasha's my stepfather, true enough. Glad you know how to fly for real...
after seeing how good you are on a pure-cyber hookup I'd hate to see you
struggle in our MiGs. Should be an interesting change after the
Valkyrie, to say the least.

We're looking forward to seeing you. Come on down anytime from Saturday
onwards, just give us enough notice to meet your flight. Don't worry if
the base seems busy, Sasha's deploying about two-thirds of his force
into Myanmar at the moment: someone kicked over an anthill there and it
looks like one of the local warlords is going down in flames, and a lot
of the corporations in the region are hiring deterrent forces. Not a job
that needs air support, though.

At least not yet. If worst comes to worst, how much fun do you feel like
having? ;) ]<<<<<
-- Lilith <00:29:48/04-23-58>

From:	Jeffrey Mach <mach@****.CALTECH.EDU>
Subject:	Re: Nothing in Particular: Pinnochio
Date:	Wed, 23 Apr 1997 21:26:39 -0700

Message no. 5 *****PRIVATE: Lilith

>>>>>[That most definitely is not something that has ever come up in
casual conversation before. And if it was just about anyone else, I'd say
"You're sh**ing me!" but you don't seem to be the type to joke about
something like that. Hunh. Guess I can safely tell anyone that thinks
I'm not multiculturally correct to screw off, one of my friends isn't even
the same species. Glad you're understanding though. When the old man
finally figured it out, he nearly had a coronary despite keeping that
"absolutely nothing would surprise me" look on his face, but he's alright
with it now. If Quinn ever hears, and does ask, "Thank you, but no." But
your comment about deep dark secrets (and Quinn) did raise Jenny's
eyebrows.... ;)

In other news, yeah, I've let my training slip a bit. Being out of
"active duty" will do that to you. Last refresher I had was desert
survival, in case I screwed up and had to punch out over the test range
and managed to frag my transponder in the process. The one fellow who
disagrees with you over component value here--I have mentioned--has ended
himself in the dog house. They showed him how much they've got invested
in me and how much I'm worth to the corp (ain't it nice to know someone
values you, if only for your parts...:P ); shut him up. But you are
correct, when the pod punches out, it takes the pilot and the avionics
core, namely MAX, with it. No sense detonating something that expensive,
but it does mean the downed pilot has to take care of a rather friendly
pile of neuro-optical chips, as well as themselves. I wouldn't mind some
more intense training in that area, if I could only find the time. Had
this really nasty nightmare a few nights ago, while I was still
recuperating, where I was being held by somebody, but rather than get
rescued, something caused all my G-LOC ports to pop open and FLUSH! Three
liters and change of my lifeblood hits the floor before I do. A fun thing
to wake up in a cold sweat from. I've been assured by people who would
know that that sort of thing can't actually happen, but Christ, its still
enough to give me shivers.

As for your thoughts on my given sidearm, I think I'll pass. If anybody
comes looking for me, and they aren't in hardshell, I will be seriously
surprised. At which point the Viper or even a heavy pistol isn't worth
it. On the other hand an SMG is too large to fit in the kit space inside
the pod. So, I don't have too many options. I'd rather not use it to cap
a bunny while I'm waiting to be picked up by the men in black, that's why
Kami-sama invented ration bars, no matter that they taste like crunchy
buttered sugar.

You can tell Sacha from me that he doesn't have to be worrying about his
MiG's. I was flying before the Valkyrie was even an engineer's wet dream.
Like I said, I use WITAS for convenience. But I would like a dibs on the
jet with the latest and highest level rigger control gear, my rig is only
_so_ backward compatible >>smug smile<<. Doubt he would have any equipped
with G-LOC/life-support hookups...too bad, on my internal ware I can only
pull turns that would turn Joe Aviator into jello, instead of a grease
spot. Such is the price I'm willing to pay, not being able to look good
in a swimsuit.

I've scheduled my last psyche eval followed by an intense physical (Do
they really have to keep those gloves in a refrigerator?) on Friday, but
managed to beg another week of R&R, since I am already past 500 hours and
then some. If all goes well, and I'm not too sore, you can count me in
for Saturday. I'm that anxious to get back in the saddle. As for
any...additional fun, that would be for Sacha and you guys to decide. I'd
say right now, I'm in, but I'd have to find a safe and painless way to
sedate Jenny.]<<<<<
-- Arashi <21:26:19/04-23-56 PDT>

Mailing List Logs for

Further Reading

Disclaimer