From: gibson@hplabsz.HPL.HP.COM (Bill Bill)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: mrx's adventures in Paradise
Message-ID: <5079@hplabsz.HPL.HP.COM>
Date: 4 Apr 90 00:02


mrx impatiently spins the hands  on his office clock
and  the sun   quickly  sets.   The Overbureau   has
finally  insisted  on   his vacation, "for   his own
good."  Hmph.  He eyes the next week's city model on
his desk  screen -  thirty-five extra deaths  due to
mismanaged    high-energy processes, all  inevitable
merely because City and  Overbureau have to  try his
job.  Fools will  be fools.  He ends City's workday,
packs seven articulated metallic energy expanders in
a case with a toothbrush-like  device, and steps out
to Airport slideway.

At Airport, he wordlessly selects tickets for a
low-tech low-energy travelbox to Paradise.  His
unblinking eye convinces  the City's unblinking
    retinal-scanner that he is going to
    enjoy himself.   Machines  are more
    foolish than the people who  depend
                               on them.

Upon deposit of his person in Paradise, his eyes
click  open  and  compare the vacation  island's
gleaming silver needles and flaming rocks to the
travelbox's acculturation fakememory. Satisfied,
his eyes direct him to  a towering hotel, to the
antipenthouse with windows  open on  the subterranean lava
supply.  His last vision  before entering dream mode  is a
design of lava fish to set loose before returning to City.

As his eyes click  open on day four, mental
routines  designed for a vacation provide a
slow review of his unapparent assessment of
              Paradise's scorched exterior.

   Day 1: purchase  of seventeen solutions necessary to
   the composition of  lavafish; initialization  of the
   hotel's geomagnetic flow & corresponding calculation
   of the necessary instrument-structure for this Room.

   Day   2:  initial construction  of  Room's
   field-tap scaffold and fish builders; trip
         to Screaming-Steam Vista (displaying
         touristness); relaxing bath  at Lava
                                      Saunas.

                                      Day 3: compression of  a
                                      kilometer cube  of  vent
                                      gasses for  Home's   air
                                      fresheners;  mapping  of
                                      island's subsurface lava
                                                      streams.

Review complete, mrx  dismounts  his sleep table and  attends his
lavaquarium.  The fish-like  constructs have finished themselves;
he pours them into a portable heatbag to facilitate later dumping
on today's tour. After unplugging his breakfast tubes and cables,
he hides the day's activities in  a black case that somehow seems
                  too small and deserts his Room for Hotel's Bus.

Before Bus leaves Hotel, mrx identifies the smallest braincase
on the tour.  At  the first lava cave, as  tourists sit in the
dark staring at the heat around them, he transfers the fish to
Mr.  Smallbrain's lunchbox,  ensuring their later  drop to the
ground and  then to their  streams.  The smile  of an internal
world brushes his  lips, and he  proceeds to the next  acts in
                                              his secret play.

At each stop in the caverns of Paradise, he
leaves  behind a thermomagnetic   amplifier
                buried in a warm warm wall.
                The  displays inside his pitch-black caving
                goggles flicker as  the instruments back in
                Room agree  with each amp placement.  Quiet
                joy, like that  of a  job well done,  seeps
                          through his major neural bundles.

That night  he holds a  merry chemistry session for  the tourists in Hotel's
Bar, exchanging pints of a quite nourishing alcohol-like rebuilder for their
quaint tales of the  Lunch That Got Away.  Satisfied that they have received
sufficient entertainment, he re-enters Room,  checks the ongoing  Structure,
                 then descends into dream.

A few more days of busy relaxation, tuning
Paradise and gazing with absorption on the
beautiful   black beaches' smoking  waves,
and mrx  ends  his   adventure  right   on
schedule. He tucks a small toothbrush-like
device in a  pocket of  his  tiny case and
        adjusts the  timers on Room's fully-grown geomag
        structure.  With a smile many humans reserve for
        parental  pride, he caresses a final instruction
  stream into the structure's human-touch node.  The
  structure  pings, crinkles  greenly, and begins  a
  faint  streaming sound, as though  a wind of metal
                                blows through the walls.
                                He attaches  a permanent
                                lock to  Room's  door to
                                avoid unnecessary deaths
                                of Hotel personnel, then
                                returns to   Airport and
                                             on to City.


Later that week, while patching some of Overbureau's management
   fumbles, he barely smiles as the background news-reader
  excitedly reports the massive fireworks seen from the direction of Paradise
      and the smooth lift of a glowing island into stable orbit. The subsequent
    radio contact with the new satellite's maintenance-fish and with many
 biorebuilt radio-tourists surprises some City dwellers,
but mrx's smile seems well-planned.

Bill Bill						gibson@hplabs.hp.com