The following short story is based on characters created and/or copyrighted by SEGA! Enterprises, DiC Productions, Archie Comic Publishers, Fleetway Comic Publishers, and the Taki Corporation. All other characters were created and copyrighted by Roland Lowery. The author gives permission to distribute this work freely as long as it remains intact and unaltered, and the transfer of monetary units is not involved. Questions, comments, suggestions, complaints? Send them to me at . I enjoy hearing from people who can spell. Chaotic Multiverse Tale #2 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Quote for the day: "I'm not afraid of dying, I just don't want to be there when it happens." -Woody Allen ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAOS! - The Beginning of the End by Roland Lowery FOR JULIAN, Earth was no longer the most friendly place to be anymore. In 2175 AD, robotics was the major way of life for most humans. Robot servants, robot taxi drivers, robot street cleaners, and robot-just-about-everything-elses abounded on-Earth and off. Many humans, also, had robotic parts. Prosthetic limbs, eyes, and internal organs were everywhere. Cybernetic parts, like N.E.T.T.E.R.jacks and sound dampners, were used in everyday life, at home and on the job. However, the human body, mind, and society could only withstand so much cybernetic and bionic reconstruction. A group of fanatics calling themselves the "Bio-Purists" started a movement to remove the metal poison in human skin. Soon, the movement came to oppose ALL robotics in general, and started talking about destroying robots as well as robotic parts. That is why when Doctor Julian Ivan Roboninski proposed his thesis "Robotic Life in Its Applicable Conjuction to Human/Cyborg Relationships," it was not exactly warmly recieved. Bio-Purists were - quite literally - knocking down his door and trying to take his head. And so, with his meager lab equipment and whiney assisstant packed, he left Earth in a space skimmer heading for the Mars Settlements. There, hopefully, he would find more liberal minded - and decidedly less fanatical - people who would accept his ideas and, perhaps, expand on them as well. "Dr. Julian Roboninski, I presume?" Julian sized Dr. Robert Post up before shaking hands. Post was a short, nervous looking old man with bushy eyebrows and frizzy white hair. He was dressed in a ratty lab coat, worn over a business suit. "Yes," Julian finally said, and shook Post's hand. Post motioned at a seat. "Please, sit down and we'll get started." "Thank you." Julian set his slightly overweight frame into the small chair, then said, "Dr. Post -" "Please," interupted Post, "call me Bob, or Robert at the least. 'Dr. Post' makes me feel old." Julian nodded. "Robert, then, you said you are interested in my thesis on robotics?" Post leaned forward and said, "Oh, yes, most definitely. I, like you, believe in a future of order. A future without sickness, infirmity, hate, or war." He stroke his chin. "And, I believe you might be able to usher in that new age." "Well, as you know, the Terran Scientific Council, and Earth in general, has rejected many of my ideas, if not all of them. I would have tried Luna, but my ideas would have been rejected there as well, I'm sure." Post nodded. "And the same from the orbital cities. The Bio-Purist movement has strong holds in all of those places." "Plus the problems with the Luna-Tech Terrorists." "Yes, I heard about those on the news. They're attacking civilian targets, correct?" "No," said Julian, "corporate ones. They've been focusing mainly on an electronics firm called Cybertechnologies, a division of Gremlin Enterprises. Unfortunatly, G.E. was one of the few companies that professed intrest in my ideas. If the Luna-Techs are targeting them, then it stands to reason that they might target ME." "Then Mars is your best choice!" Post exclaimed heartily. "We haven't been attacked by the Luna-Techs or faced down by the Bio-Purists. You'll be quite safe here." "That's good to hear." "Now, back to your thesis on cybernetic life. Do you have any . . . specific plans?" Julian frowned. "Not as such, no. The main reason I decided to try a deal with G.E. through Cybertechnologies was that my lab was too small to do any real work, and I am strapped for cash. I need to do extensive research before I continue on with my theories." "And that's why you requested a meeting with me." "Yes." Though he didn't look it, Robert Post was a prize winning robotologist. He, along with his research team at Mechaniks, Inc., had put out several cutting edge robotic and cybernetic systems over the years. Julian's hope was that they could work together toward the gleaming chrome future that he envisioned to clearly. "Well, Julian, maybe we can work something out." "I certainly hope so, Robert." "Pawn to Queen's Knight Seven." Two days after their first meeting, Dr. Post had taken an offer to his employers. "That would be 'check', I believe." The response was immediate. Julian and Post were given a fully staffed lab and a 3 million credit grant. "Yes," Post mumbled. Work began the next day. For the past week, Julian and Post had been implanting cybernetic parts into lab animals possessive of physiologies similar to humans. "Rook to King's Bishop Four." That entire week had been filled with infrequent chess games, as well. More often that not, Julian and Post found themselves at a stalemate. "Good move, Bob," said Julian, "but not good enough. Queen to King's Rook Five. Check." "Bishop to Queen's Rook Four. Checkmate." This wasn't one of those times. Julian stared dumbfoundedly at the board. "How . . . ?" he sputtered. "Never," said Post, "underestimate the power of a sneak attack. You have quite a head on your shoulders, Julian, but your game still has a few flaws." He stretched his back. "How long have we been at it this time?" Julian looked at his holo-watch. "About four hours, looks like. We should head back to the lab." As they packed up the board and exited the picnic area of the park, they continued a discussion on their work. "I still can't believe we can't compensate for the loss of essence," said Post. "They had a similar problem back in the 21st century, remember? When someone put too much - cyberware, I believe they called it - into their system, they entered a condition known as 'being cybered.' It was an unfortunately frequent event, but those were bad times. "But, the point is, they found a way to lessen nervous system drain, as so will we. It'll just take time." "Do you think the D'Nalor Principle of Robotics might help in this instance?" Post smiled as Julian rolled his eyes. The D'Nalor Principle was a private joke between them. A few days ago, Julian had cursed at a stubborn wiring program for trying to cross wires in the food dispenser in the lab. Post jokingly said that some old scientist named D'Nalor had once said, "You can cross good tires, and cross wood fires, but crossed food wires should be drug out into the street and shot." From then on, Post always mentioned D'Nalor's Principle of Robotics when they had to deal with a stubborn part of their work. "You know, I'm beginning to wonder why I ever decided to work with you." "My stunning personality, I'm sure," said Post. And so, their work went on for the next month in this fashion. Many of the major discoveries weren't made in the lab, but out under the pinkish sky and over a chess board. Progress went slowly, but surely. In fact, Julian and Post would have reached their objective had they not been cut short by a Luna-Tech Terrorist attack. SIGHTING: AREA DESIGNATE: MECHANIKS, INCORPORATED, MAIN BUILDING. LOADING A-M30 ROUND. TARGETING. [RANGE: 34.56 M|(36,4,9),(X,Y,Z)] FIRING. TARGET STRUCK|OBJECTIVE A REALIZED. ORDERS: ENTER BUILDING. ----------------------------------------------------------------- SIGHTING: DESIGNATE: NON-ESSENTIAL|ORDERS: ELIMINATE. LOADING STANDARD ROUNDS. TARGETING: SHORT RANGE. FIRING. ----------------------------------------------------------------- SIGHTING: DESIGNATE: ROBERT ENTRE POST|ORDERS: INGEST. INITIATING CAPTURE|PROJECTILE WEAPON DETECTED|ORDERS: IGNORE. DESIGNATE: R.E.P. CAPTURED. VOCAL: "Designate: Robert Entre Post, prepare to be ingested into the Chaotic Collective, a.k.a. the Luna-Tech Terrorist Tribe. Resistance is futile." INITIATING TRANSFER. TRANSFER|TRANSFER|TRANSFER. OFFLINE---------------------------------------------------------- @!#?>.'-$*?(^)! ONLINE----------------------------------------------------------- TRANSFER COMPLETE|OBJECTIVE B1 REALIZED. SIGHTING: DESIGNATE: JULIAN IVAN ROBONINKI|ORDERS: CAPTURE. Julian stared disbelievingly. His mind boggled at what had transpired over the last ten minutes. He and Post had been working in the lab late that night when they heard the explosion. "What was that?" Julian had asked. Post had shrugged. "Might be a corporate raid. Security'll take care of it." They had returned to their work when the sound of automatic gunfire filled the hallway just outside the lab door. In the lab, they kept a cabinet of legal - and some not so legal - weapons used to capture or kill escaped lab animals. Post had ran over to the cabinet, reached in, and pulled out a sub-machine gun filled with explosive ammo. He had edged up towards the door with the sub-mach held before him. The next few minutes were jumbled up in Julian's mind. He remembered seeing Post edge closer to the door when, all of a sudden, a huge, gray, humanoid robot covered with blades and guns of all description smashed through the wall. Post only got a short burst of shots off before the robot grabbed him and said, "**Designate: Robert Entre Post, prepare to be ingested into the Chaotic Collective, a.k.a. the Luna-Tech Terrorist Tribe. Resistance is futile.**" Three thoughts went through Julian's head at that moment. First, How did the Luna-Techs find me? Second, What does it mean by "ingest"? And third, Bob's middle name is "ENTRE"? The second question was answered when the robot's "skin" melted around Post until the human was encased. The robot dropped the metal case, which in turn formed into a smaller robot. The smaller robot then grew into an exact duplicate of the original. It turned to look directly at Julian. "**Designate: Julian Ivan Roboninski, surrender peacefully or be destroyed**" "I-I-I-I-" Julian stammered. He felt warmth spread across the front of his pants. It wasn't until the robots moved towards him that Julian found the stregnth to move. He bolted for the fire escape. Light hit Snively's eyelids, waking him up. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Julian's paniced voice cut through his sleepy haze. "Snivelygoodyou'reup!" "Doctor?" Snively mumbled. "What's wrong?" "No time to explain! Just start packing!" "You don't have to yell, sir, I'm sitting right here," Snively said, but didn't argue. He slipped out of bed and put on a robe. After pushing a handful of thick hair out of his eyes, he moved towards the bathroom. "What do you think you're doing?" demanded Julian. "I gotta go to the bathroom." "HOLD IT! You can go on the shuttle!" "Okay." Snively yawned and pulled his suitcase from the closet. "What shuttle, sir?" "The first one that gets us off-planet!" Julian snapped shut his full suitcase and began stuffing clothes in another. "You wouldn't believe what I just saw at the lab tonight." "What, doctor?" Julian gave him a quick recount of the large, humanoid robots. "My word, doctor," said Snively, who was starting to wake up, "are you all right?" "Hardly. And I won't BE all right until we're in cryo-stasis and headed for Pluto!" Snively went and got his toiletries from the bathroom but, because he was beginning to realize the danger, didn't stop to relieve himself. Five minutes later, they were both dressed and ready to leave their apartment for the shuttle port. Coincidences are happening all the time. This fact makes the definition of a coincidence - an amazing event that has a high probability of NOT happening - a contradiction. Most coincidences, however, happen beyond the scope of any normal sentient being's perception. For example: the Chaotic Collective, under the guise of the Luna-Tech Terrorist Tribe, accidentily created exactly what they had tried to destroy. Julian and Snively rented a "two-seater" cryo-stasis capable shuttle and aimed for the distant Pluto Colonies. In between them and the colonies were an incalculable number of neutrinos. Now, neutrinos rarely collide with anything, being smaller than sub-atomic particles and for all concerns massless, and even when they do, the collision is hardly anything spectacular. This time, however, was an exception. One of the shuttle's fuel cell's atom's electrons was hit squarely by one of the barely noticable neutrinos. The chain reaction caused by this was not immediatly evident until a week later as they crossed Jupiter's orbit. In short terms, by extreme coincidence, one of the shuttle's two engines blew up. The shuttle and its frozen occupants went twirling off into deep space. Twenty years later, the shuttle fell into a white hole, one of only five in Earth's quadrant of the Milky Way. The funny thing is, Earth scientists had thought that this white hole was Sirus, the dog star. In truth, it was much, much more. This particular white hole was a doorway to another dimension. Forty years later, Julian Roboninski, doctor of robotics, and Snively, his whiney assisstant, crash landed on Mobius, the world of speeding hedgehogs, floating islands, and magical green jewels. THE BEGINNING OF THE END Roland Lowery