Science Fiction, Fantasy |
Reading Room | Simply Connected, an original science fiction story |
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Science Fiction, Fantasy |
Reading Room | Simply Connected, an original science fiction story |
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The Reading Room at Xenite.Org: Simply Connected |
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This story is copyright © 1995, 1998 by Michael Martinez. See the notice at the bottom of the page for reproduction information.As the telephone began to ring, the Terran cruiser AJAX'S REVENGE came out from behind Titan with all forward guns blazing; two missiles launched as pre-programmed, soaring off into the darkness. The BattleView showed their impacts on the enemy station as two white circles that grew and momentarily blotted out everything else on the screen. "Yes!" Jim Curtis shouted, rising from his chair. "Yes!" The BattleView window repainted the starscape and Jim lost his enthusiasm as seven Klatchian StarHammers came into view. The REVENGE's damage monitor reddened as the enemy launched several barrages of high energy bursts at the Terran cruiser. Jim scanned the damage control readouts; the information was not good. AJAX'S REVENGE was not equipped with shield generators powerful enough to withstand an assault from seven StarHammers. "Okay," he said. "Let's see if you buggers can detect me when I'm cloaked." He keyed in the commands to send the REVENGE into cloak mode, which would drain his power faster than the failing shields. Then he ordered the helmsman to alter the ship's position by a mere 3000 meters Titan-ward, saving fuel and staying within attack range of the StarHammer squadron. "Hah!" Jim said, watching as the Klatchian ships dispersed in what he hoped would be a futile effort to find him. They were going into their classic "C" maneuver and -- -- the telephone continued to ring. "Not now," Jim whispered, watching the BattleView intently. The telephone rang again. And rang. And rang. "Nuts!" Jim picked up the phone. "Computer Caterers!" he said softly in the sing-song voice he customarily used when no one else was in the office. Jim glanced at his watch just as Deb said, "Where have you been?" "Uh-oh," Jim said. It was after seven. "Hi, Deb." "This is NOT funny! I've been waiting for over an hour. What are you doing?" Jim glanced back at the BattleView and saw the alarm; AJAX'S REVENGE was getting blistered. Before he could even type in the orders to "abandon ship", Jim saw the prize of his battle fleet explode. The Klatchian Warlord Xarxos appeared on the screen, chuckling in its alien language. "Uh, I was just leaving, Deb! I'll be there in half an hour!" "You'd better be!" "Sure, honey. See ya soon!" Jim hung up the phone with one hand and turned off his workstation with the other. "Rats!" he said. "I was SO close. REALLY close." Jim sighed. "Guess five months of dating means I finally have to meet the parents; good-bye, city life!" He picked up his jacket and strode out, pausing in the doorway to look around the office one last time; there were eight cubicles with the latest in workstation technology neatly arranged around the walls. The office was almost home to Jim, because he had spent so much time there, learning the latest and most advanced programming techniques Computer Caterers had to offer. "Wonder if they have electricity out there?" he mumbled to himself as he turned out the lights. "Now, remember, I want you and Daddy to spend a lot of time together," Deb said for the fortieth time. "But what if he doesn't like me?" Jim replied. "He WILL, Jim. Trust me." "But what if he doesn't?" "Then come sit with me and Mom." Deb sighed heavily. Jim glanced at her as he rounded a curve and saw the little country road leading off to the right. "Turn there," Deb said quickly. Jim turned onto the road, noting with growing alarm that there were no street lights ahead -- just vague, shadowy forms rising up into the night all around the car. "You've been against this from the start," Deb said, a note of irritation in her voice. "I just want you to meet my parents, Jim ; it's not like I'm asking you to live with them." "I know, honey. But most guys meet their girlfriends' families over dinner; we're spending the weekend there." "You'll love it, Jim! Mom and Daddy have 50 acres. It's almost all wooded now, because Dad hasn't worked the farm since I was a little girl." "Do they have cable?" "Jim!" "Well?" "No. They have two satellite dishes," Deb said. Her voice seemed a little resigned. "Two!" Jim echoed. Wow, he thought. Dad must really like his T.V. Can't be all bad. "Yeah. Mom doesn't like to search for the next satellite, so Daddy bought her a second dish last year." Jim's heart sank within him. "Oh well," Jim said. Deb smacked him on the arm. "Jim! Daddy watches T.V. just like everyone else!" "Okay, what does he watch?" "I don't know -- some sort of sports, usually -- or handicraft stuff on the weekends. It really depends on what's available. But I don't want you to sit there and watch T.V. all weekend." "But what if that's what he likes to do?" "No. He likes to tinker in his shop. You'll like it, Jim. He's got just about every tool you could imagine." "Uh, I never did too well in shop, Deb." Deb simply smiled. Jim liked her smile; she had the deepest dimples, and her soft blue eyes all but sparkled. Jim constantly struggled with a slight weight problem. Deb was always so full of energy, starting up new projects, and Jim was always getting caught up in work, or in games. He loved working and playing with computers. Maybe I should have dated a computer, Jim thought. At least I'd have something in common with its parents. "There it is!" Deb pointed toward a small light on the horizon. Jim leaned forward, trying to make out the shape of a house. It was several minutes, as they bobbed along the dip-laden road, before he could briefly see the dim outline of a fairly large house on a hill. There was a single street-light standing forlornly in front of it. "My great-grand-daddy built that house," Deb said. "When he came out here to homestead," Jim added to remind her he already knew the story. They finished the trip in silence and Jim wondered if he should have let Deb tell the story again. But after a few more minutes he came to a narrow drive set back amid high grasses. Deb pointed to indicate that was where he should turn. Jim noticed a huge mail box beside the road. It looked like it could hold an entire workstation. The house that Deb's great-granddad had built stood atop a small knoll; it was two stories tall with a wing that swept back on the right. A front porch ran along the entire length of the house, and there was a soft yellow light next to the front door. Jim parked in a little turn-off from the driveway next to a beat-up old pickup truck. Deb ran up to the house, but the door opened before she could mount the steps to the porch. There should be a dog barking somewhere, Jim thought to himself. He stopped by the trunk of the car and listened, but heard nothing more than Deb greeting her parents. A tall, burly-looking man in denim coveralls came strolling up to Jim. The man had grey hair and arms that looked like they could be used for fence posts. "You must be Jim," he said in a deep, friendly voice. "I'm Ralph. Don't call me `Mr. Salters', neither. Just Ralph." "Uh, hi, Ralph," Jim said, taking Ralph's offered hand. Deb's father had a firm grip; he just barely refrained from squeezing Jim's hand too tightly. "Let me help you with the luggage," Ralph offered. "Oh, that's quite all right -- " Jim started to say as he opened the trunk. Ralph stepped up next to him and, reaching down, grabbed two suitcases with one hand. Jim, certain the older man stood at least six inches taller than he did, watched in amazement as Ralph lifted the suitcases without straining; the older man deftly switched one suitcase to his other hand, thrust it under his arm, and then picked up Deb's travel case. "No problem, Jim." Ralph walked off toward the house without even pausing to breathe hard. Jim shut the trunk slowly. "He probably ate the dog for breakfast," he mumbled to himself as he ran after Mr. Salters. Deb and her mother stood inside the living room. The house seemed to glow softly because, as much as Jim could see from the doorway, every light in the house was a soft bulb. Most of them gave off reddish-yellow light. The air inside was warmer than outside; Jim didn't mind since the country air was a bit nippy anyway. "Jim, this is my Mom." "Hi, Jimmy. Just call me Stephie." Deb's Mom offered her hand. She looked very much like her daughter; or, rather, Deb looked very much like her Mom. Both women were petite with thick, curly blond hair. Jim noticed quickly that the entire house smelled faintly of strawberries and other fruits; Deb's hair always had that faint aroma, and it was one of the reasons he had first been attracted to her. "So you like working with computers?" Ralph asked as he and Jim settled into the living room after dinner. The dinner conversation had consisted mostly of "Dear, please pass the...." and "So, Jim, what do you do for a living?" "Well, yeah -- sort of," Jim said. He was looking at Ralph's feet. The man wore large black boots. "Sort of?" Ralph said. "Well, you do or don't?" "I do." "And what exactly do you do?" "Um -- well, I guess I program them." "You're not sure?" "No. I mean, yes -- uh -- yeah, I'm a programmer." "That's what Deb tells me." "Uh, what exactly do you do, Mister -- uh, Ralph?" "I'm an engineer. Got a Masters in small systems engineering about ten year ago; just had the old electrical engineering degree before that." Jim stared at the older man in surprise. "You're an electrical engineer?" "Sure. Didn't Deb tell you that?" "No. Never said a word." Jim hastily recalled the dozen or so conversations he and Deb had had about her parents, but all he could think of was the story about her great-grand-daddy and the house he built. "Odd," Ralph said, scratching his chin. "I was sorta hopin'....well, never mind. You like television?" "Uh, no! Well, I do, but I sort of promised Deb I wouldn't watch any. I mean, this weekend!" "Why would you do a dumb thing like that?" Ralph said. He looked down at the floor. "What's the little bumpkin up to, I wonder?" "The little bumpkin?" Jim said. "Never mind. Look, let's just go out to the shop," Ralph said as he stood up. "Deb never goes out there. She won't know if you're watchin' T.V. or not." "Well, er, I just don't want to break my word," Jim said meekly. He watched Ralph lumber off toward the back of the house; the man seemed to lurch as if he were off-balance, but he covered ground so quickly Jim had to almost run to keep up with him. The "shop" was actually the cellar; a house that old didn't have a basement, Jim decided, but rather a cellar. He could not really distinguish between the two: the cellar walls were lined with stone, but the floor was tiled and the air was warm and dry. They came down some stairs on the back wall and Jim looked around as Ralph turned on a light. The shop was filled with computers, cables, electrical components, tools, and manuals. Jim gaped in unabashed astonishment. "It's not much," Ralph said apologetically. "Just some odds and ends I bring home from work every now and then. You know: surplus, worn out equipment that can still be used." Jim stepped over to look at a MegaDyne Optimus 500; this was only a year old, had 24 gigabytes of hard disk space and came with 128 megabytes of RAM on the motherboard. On the standard model, a special disk caching controller had another 128 megabytes of RAM, so that once the major files had been accessed, the system only rarely needed to go to disk again. The entire model stood only two feet high. Jim was impressed -- Computer Caterers only had one of these babies in-house, and only a couple of customers had yet ordered them. "Well, that's sort of brand new," Ralph added, seeing Jim stare at the Optimus. "Thought I'd try it out as the server. Last one I brought out here didn't have much oomph." "You have a network in your house?" "Well, I did. Didn't like it. That 100BaseT network cabling stuff is kinda slow; thought I'd lay down some fiberoptic trunks and spin off a few multiport controllers in each room." "Wow." Jim looked at Ralph with a growing respect. "What are you doing all that for?" "Watch." Ralph turned out the light and said, very loudly, "Computer: Shop Lights On!" The room was immediately illuminated again. "Computer: Test Shop Clock." A coo-coo clock Jim hadn't noticed before came to life, sounding twelve coo-coos. "Wow. And you can do that in every room?" "It didn't work very well," Ralph said. He walked over to a worktable and picked up a black box. Several cables came off the box, dropped onto the floor, and Jim saw they were connected to the Optimus. "The voice recognition system couldn't distinguish between normal conversation and the command language, so I rigged up some unidirectional microphones and attached them to the multiport controllers. But the last server couldn't handle the load because the mics are open all the time." "Unh huh," Jim said quietly. He could vaguely visualize what Ralph was describing. What on earth does one hook up a computer to in a farmhouse? Clocks and lights were about all Jim could think of. "So, we got back a pallet of multiport controllers that someone dropped in a warehouse somewhere and I salvaged them. Been working on 'em for three months." Ralph looked at Jim a little hopefully. "When Deb told us she was bringin' you out here, I kinda thought we could -- " "And your Aunt Cindy said to tell you she would be out of town; she so wanted to meet Jimmy," Stephie said as she put the last pots in the dishwasher. "Oh, I'm sure he'll want to come back out some weekend," Deb said. She couldn't hide the nervousness in her voice. "I hope he does." "I'm sure he will," Stephie said. She took Deb's hand. "Oh. Something your father wanted to show you, but I suppose he forgot about it. Watch the dishwasher, dear. Daddy's made a few changes around the house." "Watch the dishwasher?" "Computer: Start Dishwasher," Stephie said, speaking directly to the dishwasher. Nothing happened. "Computer: Start Dish Washer." Nothing happened again. Stephie frowned slightly. "That's funny." "What are you doing, Mom?" "Trying to wash the dishes, dear. Wait just a minute." There was suddenly a bump and rattle under the sink. Deb instinctively jerked her hand back from her mother's grasp. "I thought you said the rats were all gone!" "We haven't seen a rat for six months!" Stephie assured her. She grabbed up a broom from a nearby corner and approached the sink. There was another thump and the sound of something skittering across the wood inside the cabinets. Stephie opened the cabinet door and thrust the broom inside. "Yeeooow!" "Jim!" Deb grabbed the broom from her startled mother's grasp. "Jim! What are you doing!?" "Uh, hi, Deb!" Jim's head just barely poked out of a little trap door to the rear of the cabinet. A fiberoptic cable lay on the woodwork; it was attached to a little black box on the side of the dish washer. "Hi, Mrs. Sal -- er, Stephie." "Jim. Come out of there!" Deb said. "My word, Jimmy. What are you doing?" Stephie asked. "Just helping with the dishes." Jim poked his hand up through the trap door and fiddled with the black box. "Try it now, Stephie." "Computer: Start Dishwasher," Stephie said again, facing the dish washer. Deb looked at her mother in astonishment. The dish washer burst into life. "Wow!" Jim said, barely audible above the dish washer. "It really works, Ralph!" "Jim, what are you doing?" Deb demanded again, but Jim dropped down out of sight and the trap door slammed shut. "Mom, what's he up to?" "Oh, he's just helping your father," Stephie said. "Here, let me show you how we country folk do the laundry." "...and then you run this end through the terminator, clipping it like that," Ralph said, snipping the cable neatly. He held up the terminated end for Jim to inspect. The clear fiberoptic cable ended in what appeared to be a copper cap. "And this handles four devices?" "Hmmm. I think I used the wrong connector," Ralph said, inspecting his handiwork. "This one will do eight." "Wow." "Let's run this one up to the attic," Ralph suggested. "I've got some patch boards up there we can use to interface the optical coordination sensors." "Optical coord--" "The burglar alarm," Ralph said. "Don't worry. It's just a bunch of motion sensors set up around the house." He picked up a reel of fishing wire and taped the loose end to the fiberoptic connector. Then he opened a panel set against one of the walls and reached in. "Had to build some conduits in here last fall," he said. "Got some hooks...ah...okay. Let's go upstairs." Ralph led Jim back up the stairs. The upper stairwell connecting the ground floor of the house to the upper story and the attic was situated next to the kitchen; as they passed by, Jim noticed Deb and Stephie talking to the washing machine. They seemed a little frustrated, but Ralph kept going, so Jim followed blindly after. "Here we go," Ralph said. The stairs led up to a door that opened into the attic. As Ralph approached it, the door opened. There was a light on inside, and they could hear a radio playing. "That's odd. I haven't been up here all week. Did I leave all this on?" "Uh, Stephie and Deb were talking to the washing machine as we came upstairs," Jim said. "Well, that wouldn't have anything -- " Ralph stopped. The light had gone out, the radio fell silent, and the attic fan came on; the faint hum of some other device started up. Ralph fumbled his way over to the door and yelled down the stairwell. "Steph, dear: would you please tell the washer to come back on?" "It's not working, Dad!" "Not down there, Bumpkin! But we need it up here!" "Daddy, don't call me that!" The light came back on but the radio stayed silent. "Hmm. I must have switched the connections in the `D' and `E' panels. I'll bet the radio is connected to the dryer." Ralph strode over to six metal boxes mounted on the wall. They looked like old-fashioned circuit-breaker boxes. Jim came up beside Ralph as the older man opened the fourth and fifth boxes; they were in fact fiberoptic patch panels, with cables coming in and out of twenty ports. "Oh, it'll take me a week to rewire these panels!" Ralph said. "Wait. I think we can switch these two -- " he pulled a couple of cables out of the `D' box and reversed their connections. "Nothing happened." "Yeah. I wonder what I just did." "Dear!" Stephie called up the stairs. "Which satellite dish do you want to use?" "Is it on the old one or the new one?" Ralph yelled back. "Where's Daddy?" Deb asked as Jim came back down the stairs. "He just wanted to reconnect a few cables." Jim yawned deeply. "I'm sorry, honey. That trip really wore me out. It must be nearly two in the morning." "Yeah," Deb said, wrapping her arms around him. She kissed him softly, but Jim was too worn out to respond. "Okay, hero," she said finally. "I'll show you where you can sleep." "Guess Mom and Dad don't want us -- " "Unh-huh. And you're too tired anyway." She led him upstairs to a guest bedroom. The light came on as the door opened. "Well, at least that hasn't changed." "You mean the lights come on when you open the door?" Jim asked, his interest piquing again. "Well, they used to. I suppose Daddy left the guest rooms for last. The last time I was home, Jim, the lights were all he had fiddled with." Jim looked at the bed; it was an antique four-poster with a full canopy. He felt right at home. "Don't let the bed bugs bite," Deb said, kissing him again. She left before Jim could develop second thoughts and he settled down on the bed. He looked around suddenly; his suitcase was still downstairs. "Rats." Jim got up and left the room. "Dear!" Stephie called out from one of the other bedrooms. "Ralph! The window won't close any more!" "Right!" Ralph said, coming down from the attic. "Hi, Jim. Listen, dear, just tell the sink to turn on the hot water. I'll fix it in the morning." Jim smiled as he moved down to the living room. "HALT! You are under observation. Do not move!" Jim stopped. The entire first floor was dark. Suddenly, a dog growled to his right. "Uh-oh," Jim muttered. The dog growled again, moving a little closer. "DO NOT MOVE!" the voice said again. "Whoops!" Ralph said from behind Jim. "Computer: Close Garage Door!" The lights came on again. Jim looked around but saw no dog. "Where did it go?" "The garage door?" "The dog! I'm sure it was real!" "Oh, he's out in the barn!" Ralph said, slapping Jim on the shoulder. "We keep him out there now. I'll introduce you to him in the morning. He only barks when the burglar alarm goes off. Night's a bit more quiet like that, but he's kinda old." "Right." Jim walked over to get his suitcase. "You have to remember that the entire system was doubling up on some cables the last time around," Ralph explained as he pulled a black controller case from the back of the refrigerator. "Sometimes we have to go through one device to get to another. It's a bit irritating when you have to start the upstairs bath and all you want is a drink of water." "You didn't really connect the bath to the drinking water?" Jim couldn't help laughing at the idea. "Nah." Ralph smiled at the younger man. "But I did run the burglar alarm through the telephone. Thought we'd save some time that way. Except the sheriff didn't appreciate hearing Ambrose growl over the line." "What kind of dog is Ambrose?" "Great Dane." Ralph finished reconnecting the cables and he replaced the box on the refrigerator. "He's about eleven years old. Doesn't get out much any more. Try the blender now, dear!" "Computer: Set Blender High," Stephie said. The blender burst into life, churning away at some bananas and pears in high speed. Deb cheered and clapped proudly. "Yea, Daddy!" "How's your vanity mirror now, Bumpkin?" "Work's great, too, but I wish you wouldn't call me that!" "Computer: Stop Blender," Stephie said. The blender stopped. "Well, it will be nice to have things settle down again. Do you have the stove working yet?" "Hmm." Ralph stepped away from the refrigerator. He looked around the kitchen and finally stared at the clock. "Computer: Set Stove Timer Thirty Seconds." The seconds on the clock's digital display immediately stepped back thirty counts. "Nope. I'll do that next, dear." "Computer: Turn On Stove," Jim said, looking at the stove. Ralph and Stephie both turned around in alarm. "The lawn mower!" they said in unison. "You've got the lawn mower wired through the stove?" Jim asked. "How -- ?" "No, no!" Ralph moved past Jim. "Computer: Turn Off Stove. No, Jim, the lawn mower is in the garage, but I was testing a fire sprinkler system last weekend and ran that through the garage cable." "Oops. Sorry." "Quite all right," Ralph said, patting Jim on the back. "Here, let me show you how I set the garage to wash the cars." "Don't forget the stove!" "Fix it next!" "Mom, let's go see Uncle Steve," Deb suggested. "I've got a feeling the place is about to go haywire." "I think you're right, dear. They won't miss us 'till dinner time comes around, and I'll pick up some Chinese food just in case your father reconnects the entertainment system." "Computer: Turn On Front Porch Light. Hey, Ralph, it worked!" "Great, son!" Ralph came around the side of the house, mounting the porch steps a little doggedly. "Whew. Been a long morning. Let's say we break for lunch." "Sure!" "And then I'll see about getting that glue off your windshield. I know I put the solvent somewhere in the house." "No problem." "Computer: Turn On Living Room Television," Ralph said, stopping by the wide-screen viewing center. The television came on. "Computer: Link Satellite Dish Two to Living Room Television." The image on the screen changed to a football game. "Hey, it's working pretty good, now." "Yeah, I just wish I could simplify things," Ralph said, scratching the back of his head. "You know: running all these cables and wiring all these controllers is easy. But I need to program an entire series of commands so we don't have to go all over the house telling the lights to come on, the windows to open, the fans to start, and so on." "That's easy!" Jim said quickly. "You think so? I'm not much of a programmer; I tried a couple of times and it all gets so convoluted." "No problem, really! We use some software tools at my company that could do the trick for you. We've got this neat metaphor system --" "What's a metaphor?" "Uh, well, hmm. It's sort of a data file that represents an entire computer system. Well, actually, it's not that simple, but you sort of draw this map and then number the steps you want to take place, and then you just tell the software to follow the map." "That's EXACTLY what I need!" Ralph snapped his fingers. "Hmmm. I guess that software is expensive." "I don't think so," Jim said. "And I can dial into the office and download a demo compiler for you without any problem; the programs only run for a month, but that should be long enough to get you some pricing." "Great! I'll tell you what, Jim. Let's see what kind of program -- " "-- metaphor --" "-- metaphor we can work up, and if it does the job, we'll take it to your boss and see if he wants to sell it." "Are you sure?" "Yeah. I'm thinking of retiring anyway, and I thought I might be able to sell these household systems for a few years." "Gee. If you've got a modem, we could dial in right after lunch. I'll download the compiler to your server and we could have some metaphors up and running before Deb and Stephie get back, assuming they're gone all day." "That quick?" "Yeah, it's pretty neat stuff." "Swell. Let's go get a bite to eat." "Okay." Ralph led Jim toward the kitchen. "Computer: Open Refrigerator Door." The freezer door swung open. "Close enough for lunch; you like frozen pizza, Jim?" "So how does this thing work?" Ralph said, looking at the screen. The metaphor generator was a collection of windows and icons that didn't mean much to the engineer. Jim used the mouse to click on the icon that initiated a new sequence. "It's real simple. First, we tell it we want to create a metaphor. I'll call it `Turn On All House Lights'. Then, we'll include all the commands we want it to execute." He clicked on another icon that looked like a bookcase. "This means we have to create those commands; we're doing some `research', because the compiler doesn't know how to turn on the lights yet." Jim spent a few minutes going over the house wiring diagram with Ralph; when they were finished, the computer had a complete list of all the electronic controllers and how they were `addressed' through the house network. Next, Jim defined the commands for turning on and turning off lights, and he made them generic so they would work with any light source on the network. Finally, Jim created a series of commands to turn on all the lights in the house, adding each one to the list contained in the metaphor. "And that's all there is to it," he said. He looked up at the clock. "See -- it only took a little over an hour. And, because we've defined all the light nodes and the commands for turning them on and off, the next metaphor for lights won't take nearly as long." "Pretty sharp," Ralph said. "And I'll bet it could cook dinner, too, couldn't it?" "Well -- it can't move the food around, but if we load everything in advance, we should be able to create a metaphor to cook a simple meal." "Let's do that!" Ralph said. "Stephie will love it! I'll go get her recipe book." "Uh -- " Jim started to say something, but Ralph was gone. "But how do you tell it to stir the soup?" he asked. An idea came to Jim almost as quickly as he voiced the question. "You don't, but the house can tell US when to stir the soup!" He set to work defining a new group of commands. When Ralph came back, he found Jim smiling proudly. "This is a real whiz-bang of a program, Jim! I can't wait to show Stephie I know how to cook a hamburger!" "No problem!" Jim said. He took the recipe book and was a little surprised to see an entry for hamburger. Of course, this was a well-seasoned hamburger with a few garnishments. Just typing in the recipe made him hungry. Next they created a metaphor for roast beef -- and then for fried chicken -- mashed potatoes -- spaghetti -- swedish meatballs -- and several others. "I'll bet you can do all sorts of things with these metaphors," Ralph said, looking at the recipe book thoughtfully. "Hey! Let's make one that greets you when you come in the door. I've seen that in science fiction movies." "You like science fiction?" Jim said. "I love it! Heinlein, Asimov, Clarke, Van Vogt -- all the old masters! I grew up reading those books." "Wow." Stephie drove up to the garage and was mildly pleased to see the door swing up without being signalled to. As she pulled into her customary space, she and Deb noticed Jim's car sitting where Ralph's usually resided. "What happened to the paint on Jim's hood?" Deb said, pointing to a section of the car hood just beneath the windshield. "I can't say," Stephie said. "But look how clean the rest of the car is. They must have fixed the sprinklers." "Will it rain when we get out?" Deb asked, looking around the garage apprehensively. The riding lawn mower sat in one corner, clean and shiny. "Oh, dear," Stephie said. But she opened her door carefully and, when no downpour was forthcoming, got out of the car. "Well, let's go see if our two geniuses are hungry." "Jim is, though he's probably forgotten that by now," Deb said as she picked up the Chinese food. "He really seems very sweet," Stephie said. "Oh, he is, Mom. He's the nicest boyfriend I've ever had -- when he remembers we're dating." "Is he that forgetful?" "Sometimes he just gets a little carried away." "How so?" "Well, he gets so involved with the computers that I have to sort of hit him over the head to remind him I'm right next to him. Not exactly, but you know what I mean." Stephie laughed gently. "Yes, I do," she said. "Your father is exactly like that, isn't he?" They left the garage and walked up to the house. Although the sun was setting, the windows were all dark. "I hope we won't be eating by candle light," Deb said as they mounted the porch steps. "Although it would be kind of romantic." Stephie opened the door and gasped. "GREETINGS MRS. SALTERS. GREETINGS MS. SALTERS," a deep, basso voice blared out from the entertainment system. "Hey, Jim! Turn the volume down! Hi, dear!" "Ralph -- whatever on Earth --" "YOUR SISTER CALLED AT FOUR-THIRTY pm mrs salters --" "Too low, Jim! Hi, Bumpkin!" Ralph kissed his wife and daughter on the cheek. "Daddy!" "--heard you had some company for the weekend. Is Deb's little boyfriend really staying? I'd love to come over --" "Ralph, I'm not sure I want to hear telephone messages as soon as I come in the --" "AAAAaraaaarrrrrroooooohhh!" "Ambrose!" Deb cried. She set the food down on the floor and ran toward the back of the house. "How'd he get into that?" Ralph asked, scratching his head. "--so call me by seven if that's all right --" "Oh, dear," Stephie said. The lights were all on in the downstairs section and she was certain she could hear the attic fan come on. A sudden, swift draft assured her that was so. "Oh, dear. Ralph, will this happen every time I open the front door, now?" As the answering machine stopped spewing her sister's message, Stephie heard the television come on; her favorite Saturday show was being replayed from a video tape. "Oh, my." "Deb, you didn't tell me the entire family would come out to meet me!" Jim was furiously looking through his suitcase for something to wear. He had brought only casual clothing. "I didn't know they would all want to see you so quickly," Deb replied. She was looking around the room carefully. Somewhere a radio was piping in over hidden speakers. "I don't have anything to wear!" "Well, look in the closet!" Deb suggested. "Mom and Daddy sometimes have guests who leave things." "Okay, we'll look in the closet," Jim said. The closet door opened. He stopped and looked at Deb. "Did you tell it to open the door for me?" "No." "Oops." "Jim, what did you do today?" "Uh, it's a surprise." "But you didn't have to speak to the computer. I thought we had to do that so it wouldn't get confused?" "I sort of figured out a way to simplify things. But I didn't know it would work on the closets." "Jim: my ENTIRE family will be here in a few minutes. Tell me this house won't go on a rampage and kill them all!" "Oh, honey!" Jim walked over to the closet. "Hey, there's some neat stuff in here." "Let me see." Deb walked over to join him. The closet was a large walk-in model so they both went inside. "Don't let it close the door or anything," Deb said. The door closed. "Oops." "Jim!" "Calm down, Deb. Computer: Open Closet Door." They vaguely heard Stephie scream somewhere in another room. "Ralph, I'm in the shower!" "Computer: Open Closet Door!" Deb turned and spoke directly to the door. The door opened. "How did it open my mother's shower door, Jim?" "I don't think it did, honey. I just wasn't facing the door." Deb looked doubtful. Jim shrugged. "Computer: Open Master Bathroom Shower Door." They heard nothing. "Okay," Deb said, conceding the point reluctantly. "But please don't let anything go wrong." "Sure. Just as soon as I get dressed." He fumbled through the clothes a while and Deb was gone when he emerged from the closet. When Jim came downstairs, Deb was sitting with a middle-aged man and woman. The woman had light brown hair but bore a strong resemblance to Deb and Stephie. "Jim, this is my aunt Margaret and Uncle Wat." "Howdy, Jim!" Wat stood up to shake Jim's hand vigorously. He was about Jim's height, slightly heavier in build, and had only a trace of grey hair. "Pleased to meet you, Jim," Margaret said. She was a little bit taller than Deb. "Just call me Maggie." "Uncle Wat, Aunt Maggie," Jim said. "Hear you work with computers!" Wat said. "You been down to see Ralph's shop?" "Yes I have." "What a contraption! Did he ever get the confounded mess to work, or is it still settin' off the burglar alarm ever' time he feeds the dog?" "Watley, stop that!" Maggie said, but she couldn't hide the smile on her face. Uncle Wat laughed. "Ralph and I work down at the same place, Jim. I'm an electrician, myself. Union-trained. Didn't get no Master's Degree. But I helped Ralph run the wirin' for all the electric gizmos the first time he tried to set this house up." "How many times has he wired it?" "Oh, three or four," Wat said. "Only started about a year ago, right after Deb moved to the city." He drew a pack of gum out of a pocket and stuck a piece in his mouth. "Want some? Tryin' to quit smokin' and Stephie don't like tobacco in her house." "THERE WILL BE NO SMOKING ON THESE PREMISES!" "What?" Wat stared at the ceiling. Aunt Maggie succeeded in suppressing a surprised look, but she glanced at Deb with a slightly disapproving expression. "Sorry, Aunt Maggie," Deb said softly. "Uh, that shouldn't have happened," Jim said. "Would you excuse me a moment?" "Been helpin' Ralphie, eh?" Wat said, smiling impishly. "Lemme come with you. I wanna see that new-fangled server he picked up." "Let me get you something to drink, Aunt Maggie," Deb said. She and Maggie walked back toward the kitchen. "I tell you child, I'm ready to wash my hands of the entire matter -- aaah! Who turned on that faucet?" "Sounds like we better get down there quick," Wat said. "I don't understand how you use this metaphor-thing," Ralph said, taking a deep breath. He stood up so Jim could sit down in front of the monitor. Wat stared around at the shop. "You made some changes since I been here last," he said. "Let me show you the new switch boxes," Ralph said. "Oboy." Jim was looking at Ralph's new metaphors. There were now nearly two dozen more in the system since Jim had gone upstairs, and Ralph had been quite innovative. "Computer: List All Active Metaphors." It would be fastest to just ask the computer; he had added that one early on just in case something like this happened. "Oh, I think I accidentally erased that one, Jim," Ralph said. "You know, it takes a while to get the hang of it." "Right." Jim smiled at Deb's father. "No way to list the metaphors running," he added to himself. "Okay. Let's see." "Jim!" Deb came rushing down the stairs. "Jim! Daddy! I think you should come up here." "What is it, Bumpkin?" "Aunt Maggie can't turn off the can opener." "Just tell her to close the pantry door," Ralph said. "I was sort of playing around with your Mom's soup recipes." "Soup recipes?" Deb said. She rushed back upstairs. "SOMEONE IS AT THE FRONT DOOR!" "Jim! Does that have to be so loud?" Deb yelled down the stairs. "Just close the door, Aunt Maggie!" "Hmm," Ralph said as he came back to the server. "I thought I turned it down once." "Maybe you just reset the alarm clock," Wat said. Ralph looked at him seriously for a moment and then chuckled. "Here," Jim said. "This one should turn it down." He clicked on a metaphor icon and dragged it over to the workbench, effectively "opening" it. Then he looked at all the commands. "Wow." "Oh, yeah," Ralph said. "I was trying to see if I could get the --" The room suddenly went dark. "Looks like someone found the bathroom okay," Wat said. "Nah, that's still connected to the barn lights," Ralph said. "The house lights should come back on when the front door is opened and closed a second time." "Oh." "Uh, this metaphor looks a little confused," Jim said. "What do you mean?" Ralph asked. The lights came back on. "You've specified a multi-tasking assignment for the burglar alarm; we could end up with a strobe effect, if I understand this correctly." "Better turn that one off," Wat said. "I don't think the sheriff will appreciate havin' a Great Dane tie up the county phone lines all night." "I was changing that one a while ago," Ralph said. "We should be okay as long as no one tries to flush -- " "HALT! DO NOT MOVE!" "Didn't get the volume right, Jim," Wat said. "I'd better go see who's stuck in the guest bath," Ralph said. He couldn't hide the anxiety on his face. "Just exactly how bad can this get?" Wat asked Jim when they were alone. "Well," Jim said slowly. "We can always shut down the server, but then we'll be without lights." "You don't want that," Wat said. "Maggie'd never let you hear the end of it. She's a good woman an' all, but she don't like havin' a house turned upside down by a bunch of computers. Won't let me put in the automatic door openers and stuff." "Uh, I could switch over to the old server," Jim said. "As long as people don't go upstairs, we should be okay." "Better try that." "Okay." Jim quickly checked the cabling between the two servers. "It's sort of ready. We'll be in the dark for a few seconds until I switch the cables. Unless I can reverse the backup wiring and make this server fail." "Will we be in the dark? I don't think you're gonna find them cables easy to change without any light." "You have a point." Jim quickly moved behind the worktable and pulled some cables out of the two servers. "I'll just reverse the backup sequence and when we crash the main server the old one will kick in." He did just that and there was never a flicker in the lights. "Now we'll bring up the new server and set it to kick in if the old one fails." "Don't you need to fix the server after a crash?" "Sure, but we can leave a diagnostic running," Jim said. "As long as we can keep everyone downstairs, we'll be okay." "I hope," Wat said. "Ralph's changed everything since I was last down here." There were quite a few people sitting in the living room when Jim and Wat got back upstairs. Stephie took Jim around and introduced him, but he forgot the names as quickly as he heard them. Aunt Maggie was sipping on a fruit cocktail as Jim finally sat down between her and Deb on the couch. "I sort of like the pantry and the can opener," Maggie said. "It's a sensible connection if you've a mind to wire your house up like some mad scientist." "Maggie!" Stephie said. "It's not all that bad. And believe me, it's very, very helpful when you've an armload of packages or groceries to not have to open all those doors." "Hey!" someone said from the hallway. "I can't get in here." "Where are you?" Jim said. "Tryin' to get into the guest bath!" "Jim!" Deb said. "What did you do?" "I didn't do anything! Sort of." Ralph came thumping down the stairs. He had changed his clothes, but he was clearly in distress because one shirt tail was still hanging from his slacks. "Don't anyone go outside! The sprinklers are running." "I left my windows rolled down!" "Jim! You've got to do something!" Deb took Jim by the arm and led him over to the cellar stairs. "Don't you DARE let this house hurt my family!" "Calm down, honey, it's not like in the movies!" "Is it cold in here?" Stephie asked. "It sounds like the air conditioner is running." "It's going to freeze us to death!" "Deb, I'll take care of it." "I'm coming with you." "Honey, it's not that bad." "RALPH!" Aunt Maggie was screaming. "RALPH! The microwave is counting down!" "Okay. It may get a little worse." "Just fix it!" "I'll have to switch the servers back." They rushed downstairs and Jim pulled the power plug on the old server. The door to the cellar slammed shut and the lights went out. "Jim." "Don't worry, Deb. The new server should come back on any minute now." "It's dark down here." "No, just come around to the monitor, honey." Deb came to stand behind Jim. She smelled faintly of strawberries and he found himself wishing he could just ignore the computers for a few minutes. Deb leaned over to look at the screen, brushing gently against him. Except for the fact she was ready to strangle him, it seemed a very romantic moment to him. "What is it doing?" "Running a diagnostic. We can stop all the metaphors once that finishes." "How long will that take?" "Well, it has to check the hard drives. These models can run from their RAM as long as they don't have to go to disk. Maybe half an hour?" "My family is at the mercy of this thing for half an hour?" "Sort of." Deb sighed. "Daddy does it again." "You're not mad at me?" "No, I guess not." She put her arms around him and kissed him on the head. "I just wanted you to make a really good impression on everyone. Now we're trapped in Daddy's shop and who knows what is happening upstairs?" "Well, I guess I could cancel the diagnostic. The server may not have been using the hard disk when I crashed it." "Is that risky?" "Not very." "Okay. Let's see what happens." The diagnostic had so far found nothing wrong when Jim interrupted it. The metaphor manager came back up and a list of about thirty metaphors flashed on the screen. Jim took Deb by the hand and walked upstairs. The lights came on just as he lost all sense of position. "Computer: Open Shop Door." The door opened onto pandemonium. "Wow, that's really soundproofed!" The living room was bathed in strobing lights, and a vacuum cleaner was turning on and off in a coat closet. Most of Deb's relatives were milling about in the hallway and the kitchen, while the entertainment system played movies and music in loud competition against one another. Jim was pretty sure he could hear Ambrose howling somewhere in the background. "Whooie!" someone said next to Jim. "Ralph and Stephie sure know how to throw a party!" "Do you know where my parents are?" Deb asked the relative. "I think your ma dragged your pa upstairs!" "Come on, Jim!" "HALT! DO NOT MOVE!" "Ignore it, honey, the phones are turned off anyway." Deb took Jim firmly by the hand and led him upstairs. A couple of relatives were wandering from room to room, ordering the closets and windows to open and close; they had to run back and forth to see which command opened which door or window. The master bedroom door was closed. "Computer: Open Master Bedroom," Deb said. The door opened. Deb led Jim inside and the door closed behind them. An alarm claxon was ringing outside on the balcony. Deb and Jim ran over to find Stephie looking anxiously up into the night. "Mom, where's Daddy?" "Up here, Bumpkin!" They looked up to see Ralph standing on the roof. He was draped in fiberoptic cables and furiously working with a screwdriver to open a black box. The alarm claxon kept blowing and Jim heard Ambrose come out into the back yard to give vent to his displeasure. The Great Dane managed to drown out the claxon. "I've almost got it!" Ralph called down. He dropped his screwdriver and, with a shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders, he ripped the cables out of the box. The alarm claxon stopped, though Ambrose continued baying at the sky. "Okay, dear, I'll come down through the attic!" Ralph said. "I want to check those switch boxes." "Do you need any help?" Jim asked. "No, no!" Ralph said. "But if you could check the barn, I'd appreciate it." "The barn," Jim said, looking down at Ambrose. The Great Dane was now barking furiously. "I'll go with you," Deb said. "You'd better," Stephie agreed. "I don't think the cats are in the mood for company." Ambrose calmed down when Jim and Deb came out to him; he reared up and licked Jim's face several times before Deb could call him off. Jim wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve before going on. "Just what did your Mom mean about the cats?" "Don't worry. Ambrose probably ran them all off." "How many do your parents have?" "Fifteen, when the neighbors' cats don't come by." Deb opened the barn door and led Jim inside. The barn was well-lit but obviously long disused for any normal barn-like function. There was a stack of crates in the center of the floor and a small room off to one side that must have held tack at one time. Jim looked in there and saw a computer and monitor set up. "Your dad sure likes computers." "This one runs the sprinklers in the woods." "Why does your dad have sprinklers in the woods?" "Well, they used to be the fields. But now he has a septic treatment plant out there that sprays the trees; he says it makes them grow faster." "Right. I guess everything is okay here." "Good; we can go back inside," Deb said. When they came back to the yard, Jim and Deb saw the house lights were back on; the sprinklers in the front yard had stopped as well, and a couple of cars were pulling off into the night. But just as they reached the back door, a thunderous explosion shattered the night air; Jim grabbed Deb and flung her to the ground, doing his best to cover her. The house was filled with screams and the sounds of machine gun fire. Another explosion thundered through the night air and sirens began to wail. "Jim! Get off me." "Sorry." They went inside and found a half dozen people sitting in the living room, watching a war movie. The sound was deafening, and then suddenly it fell off to just the barest whisper. "That thing only knows two volume settings," Maggie complained. "I'll fix it in the morning," Ralph promised. He sounded tired. "We have church in the morning," Stephie said. "First thing." "What were you two doing?" Wat asked Jim and Deb. "Just enjoying the night air," Jim said. "Is everybody okay?" Deb asked. "Fine, Bumpkin. By the way, you'll have to sleep in the other guest room, tonight; your vanity lights blew out and there's glass all over your room." "Daddy!" "I'll fix it in the morning, Bumpkin." Jim pulled Deb away from her family and led her outside. Ambrose sat on the back patio gazing intently at the barn. Jim leaned back against the porch rail, taking Deb into his arms. "I am so, so sorry I dragged you out here, Jim. This weekend has been a total disaster." Jim chuckled, nuzzling her. "No it hasn't. You were right, honey. I DO like your father." "Do you really mean that, Jim?" "Yeah. Let's come back out here next weekend. Maybe I can help put things back together." "You don't know my father, Jim. That could take a lifetime." "I know." Deb smiled at him and Jim kissed her gently, letting his passion chase away all thoughts of computers. Somewhere in a tool shed by the barn, the computers set off Ralph's fireworks, and Ambrose covered his ears with his paws, whimpering slightly. |
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