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Maximally Effective [Worm/Schlock Mercenary, Tinker!Taylor]

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Maximally Effective
Maxim 17: The longer everything goes according to plan, the greater the...
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Teraport 1.1
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    • Mundovore

    Mundovore

    Location
    Washington State, USA
    Maximally Effective
    Maxim 17: The longer everything goes according to plan, the greater the impending disaster.​

    Begin Transmission: Teraport 1.1​
    ​
    "I'll see you tomorrow."

    I shut the door. My heart was pounding, throbbing in my chest. How could it be? My heart was pounding, throbbing in my chest, and I had come back from school in the exact same way I always had. The exact same things had happened as yesterday. The bullying was the same. The walk was the same. The bullying during the walk was the same. And every time, Emma said it to me as I closed the door.

    The first couple of times, she had brought Sophia with her, but she'd been doing it on her own ever since. An omnipresent watcher on my walk home, never relenting, never giving up. If I ran ahead, she ran with me. She was faster. If I slowed, she caught up with me, and it was just like I was in the hallways of my school. Quieter, like she was more afraid of being overheard, but also because the words leaked out into the bleak urban hellscape. She talked about how ugly I was, how disgusting, how sad.

    It was standard fare.

    I committed myself to running. I would be faster than her. I would leave her in the dirt. Tomorrow was a weekend.
    ​

    I ran out, down towards the Boardwalk. Emma was waiting for me around a corner, and started jogging with me. I ran back to the house, slammed the door. I heard her outside:

    "I'll see you tomorrow."
    ​

    I left, three hours after I got home from school, to try to jog then. Surely, Emma had responsibilities. She was a young model.

    I was mostly right. I jogged down to the Boardwalk, unmolested. I wandered between the stores, and reveled in the freedom. As I began my jog back, a car pulled up alongside of me. I stepped forward a bit, and looked into the windows, concerned. I recognized the car a second too late.

    "Thanks, dad!" Emma hopped out of the car, and waved her father ahead. He waved at me, smiling, before driving off.

    "Sorry I couldn't keep up with you earlier, Taylor. Unlike some people, I have places to be. I do try to make time for you, though."

    When I shut the door, I ran quickly, so I didn't hear what I knew she said.
    ​

    Sometimes, Emma didn't follow me home, and had to drive off with her father on some errand immediately after school. When she did that, Sophia usually leered after me instead. It was almost creepier when she did it: she never attempted to engage me, only followed at a constant distance behind me. She was unshakable, and if I ran, she followed without the slightest hint of tiring. Emma was the stalker. Sophia was just waiting for me to drop dead of exhaustion so that she could tear into my corpse.

    Still, she had one thing figured out.

    "Tomorrow, Taylor."
    ​

    When a pattern like this emerges, the most terrifying possible thing is when the pattern is broken. Safety is the house: in all other places, Emma is waiting, or following. Or, her flunky. When neither happened, it shook me. Then, I grew comfortable. I reached the bus, and I felt somewhere between giddy and sick. The nervousness hadn't left me, but the anticipation of a safe walk home was beyond comfort.

    When I sat in my seat, I crinkled a piece of paper that I hadn't noticed before I sat on it. I fished it out, and read:
    ​
    At 2:46, Taylor will sit in this seat. —Emma​
    ​
    It was two forty-six. My hands trembled as I crumpled the note, and stuffed it in my pocket. When I reached my stop, the stop I'd normally stop at, I skipped it. I went one stop further, and got off, throwing away the note as I did so. A paper fluttered in the wind, taped to the bus stop sign. It was lined paper, notebook paper, with garish and attention-getting purple marker drawn over it.
    ​
    3:01​
    Nice try, but I expected better. —Emma​
    ​
    Around every corner, a paper marked out the time, exactly, and mocked me. I ran the other direction, and found the paper. I went more slowly on some stretches, faster on others. Anything to trip her up. Anything. She couldn't know me that well. She was stalking me. I knew she was stalking me. How could she stalk me and still be ahead of me? Sophia? Did Sophia run ahead, do the dirty work? Sophia couldn't run faster than a bus, could she?

    Eventually, I had to run home. It's not like I had anywhere else. Anywhere else safe. Maybe there was a cape. A cape was stalking me. Posing as Emma? Maybe Emma was a cape.

    Emma was resting against the side of my house, next to the front door. She didn't bar me from entering.

    "I'll see you tomorrow."

    I ran to my room. I grasped my pillows, I pounded them, I screamed into them, I screamed, I clutched at my head, something hurt, something hurt! I screamed into my pillow, I screamed, and I passed out.

    And when I woke up, something had changed.


    End Transmission​
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Teraport 1.2
  • Threadmarks

    • Begin Transmission: Teraport 1.2​

    Atoms do not make up everything. Not only are they incapable of lying, but they are also the underdogs of the universe in terms of the important things, like 'mass.' Most observable matter in the universe is hydrogen, which can be more accurately restated as "most observable mass in the universe is protons." Since much of that mass, maybe most of it, is in stars of hot plasma, that hydrogen generally does not have the good grace of having electrons. Most observable mass in the universe is therefor not closely related to the dense, consistent atoms we know and love. Just protons, bound in gravity. By that standard, atoms do not make up everything: most of the universe is protons, half-baked atoms without the decency to put on clothes.

    Of course, all of the above depends on what you call 'observable.' Dark matter is observable, in a sense. There's more of it than there is conventionally observable matter, and dark matter isn't made of atoms. Not atoms made of baryons and leptons, in any case. So by that standard, atoms most definitely do not make up everything.

    But there is also empty space, in between all of that. Matter does not make up everything: it does not make up anything. There is more empty space, more vagueness and emptiness than there ever will be of anything else. And in a flash, in the moment I woke up to the smell of my father's cooking downstairs, a dinner in progress, I knew that without a doubt.

    And I knew to exploit it. Somewhere in my head, I derived new facts about the nature of the universe from esoteric knowledge I retained from overhearing a physics class. Words and equations I hardly recognized, muttered on the street, formed new derivations with little work. I observed several new empirical constants, and knew ways I could test their accuracy. I extrapolated the data. I could build a device that could compute with emptiness, use the emptiness as a base three bit of information, but also maintain any and all of its states in any number of combinations at once, superpositioned in each other. I could build a machine to stretch and bend the nothing, projecting gravity. I could build things that could build things. I could build anything. I could—

    "Taylor!"

    I started. My dad was hovering over me.

    "Doing some math homework, or just goofing around? That stuff looks pretty advanced."

    I closed my notebook. When did I take it out? What did I write in it?

    "Oh, it's nothing."

    "Alright, kiddo." A chuckle. "You sure you don't want to talk about it? It took ages to shake you."

    "No, don't worry about it."

    "Well, at least I know what you've been doing all those times you've shut yourself in your room."

    Hiding from Emma? "It's mostly gibberish..."

    I went downstairs, had my buttered noodles, made small talk. All the time, somewhere in me, there was a spark racing through me. It was in my head, but it was also in my eyes. I felt it everywhere, the presence of the nothing, but also the presence of how the something could be used to manipulate the nothing, and how the nothing could be used to manipulate the something. Sometimes, even, how the something could be used to manipulate the something, but usually that was actually how the something could manipulate the nothing which manipulated the something in turn. I saw different things in different ways.

    I could take apart the wall clock with just a look, and in some ways it was disgusting. The hands of the clock, the interface. So garish. It wasn't intuitive at all, to look at the time that way: it wouldn't work in the dark, and it was a waste of energy to move those hands. A light, a digital display, something that turned on when you looked at it. Semi-sentient, so it would be properly useful: it wouldn't turn on for a house invader, or turn on for you while your house was being invaded. The clock could easily be extended to a fully sentient mainframe, for controlling the routine processes of the house. Cooking, energy production, cleaning, and the like. The microwave was good, it could stay. The oven relied too much on the movement of air, but I preferred the taste of that to the microwave. The doors had to go: so weak, and flimsy.

    I barely noticed as I finished eating. I went right back upstairs. What kind of a door would be best? Steel was always a good bet, but I'd need the walls to be of something similar. I could make things tougher than steel: picoengineered substances, denser than uranium, compressible, programmable, radiation-resistant. Post-trans-uranic alloy. That would be expensive to make a door out of. It would be very, very expensive to make a door out of it. And the walls would still have to be tougher for that. Maybe I was going about things the wrong way?

    The alloy. I could use it to build an energy plant, compressing matter down into miniscule amounts of neutronium suspended in a null-gravity field. The same gravitic field could be used to annihilate the neutronium into energy, in a cost-efficient process that became more efficient the larger the plant was. That could potentially be a lot of power. Lots, and lots of power. The gravitics could be used in other ways, too. I could make a shield out of gravity. There. That was the door. I could cover the whole house, and nothing could get in.

    Nothing could always get in, though. More importantly, some things couldn't get in. Emma couldn't get in. I knew the door wouldn't stop her. Windows wouldn't, either—once she stuck a note to the outside of my window. But Emma was bound to gravity. Emma had to respect it. Maybe it was the one thing she did respect. I could control gravity. I could control Emma. I could be safe.

    Could I? I still had to go to school. Every day. Emma. Every day. I couldn't bring a gravity-shield with me. Could I? I ran the numbers in my head. I could, actually. It would be stupidly expensive, though. I would need to carry, to wear a massive annihilation plant to make it work. I could make some low-profile armor, perhaps, do something with inertia to keep me safe. Keep her from stabbing me in the dark.

    But how would armor stop her from doing what she already did? Constantly with me in the hallways, constantly behind me on the street, watching the door of my house while I was hiding? Could I stop her from saying 'I'll see you tomorrow?'

    I could stop her. A thousand ways to destroy Emma, to block out sound, to evacuate an area's air, to turn her into disparate particles of evaporated flesh, to seal her in a tank and tear her mindfromherbrainsoIcouldKNOW—

    No. I could avoid that. Emma followed me, everywhere. So I would be unfollowable.

    I could build a device that could take me anywhere. Anywhere in the galaxy, easy. If I built it a little better, I could get to Andromeda. I didn't need to do that, though. I just needed to get from one place on the planet to another.

    I turned to a new page of my notebook (when did I get it out?). The plans, rough blueprints, they were easy. Like I had already designed it, once before. Or many times, before. I could build a device that would create trillions of nanoscopic wormholes, and instantly feed me through it. Creating a large wormhole is expensive, a massive power demand. I could theoretically do it, but never practically. Small wormholes are easy, though, and get exponentially easier as they get smaller.

    Most of everything is empty space. This includes the human body. So I could shunt my atoms, individually, through trillions of tiny wormholes, and it would be cheap. Energy-cheap. I could do it without a major power source, even, and use an infinitesimal fraction of my mass to power the warp. I could be anywhere, anytime, and it was nothing.

    ...But I couldn't build the device. I needed tools. A device to pinpoint the location of particles to the highest degree, at a range, but without understanding their momentum. A computer, to calculate where the wormholes would have to lead in order to get me to where I wanted to go. I would need a welding laser. I'd need to build circuitry. Normal circuits wouldn't do: I'd need a block of quantum circuitry. No other way to calculate it all. I'd need a quantum-circuitry press, then? And carbon. Lots of carbon and silicon. A hammer. Might already have one of those in the house.There was... so much that I needed. Maybe it was impossible.

    I stopped, and I looked at what I had written. I read it, for the first time. I was astonished. When I wrote it, I knew what it was, in the back of my mind. It just never hit home. It wasn't just designs, it was theoretical work. Some derivative, some novel. I could clean it up, I could publish it. Would I be the new Einstein?

    But who would use it? Take it seriously? Or what if someone misused it? I imagined warships that spanned kilometers, total-conversion bombs that could devastate a planet's surface.

    I tore out the pages of the notebook I had scribbled on, and stuffed them into my desk. It was important that they looked like trash. I put my notebook back into my bag. It was late. I brushed my teeth (I could build little robots that would live in my bloodstream and I'd never have to brush my teeth again), showered (they'd clean me, too), and went to bed. (They might also take care of that, for me.)

    I couldn't sleep, but I pretended to try. Plans ran through my mind until two in the morning, when I got up and jotted more notes down. More, and more. Not just things I could build, but also ways I could get what I needed to build things. I could do this. I would beat Emma. A way to avoid her, forever, was finally within my grasp.

    ​
    End Transmission​
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • I'm giddily waiting for the next chapter. Also, I really like how you got us inside Taylor's head. Curiously, did Emma trigger as a precog somehow?
     
    It does look like Emma triggered with some kind of Thinker power, kinda. Also, I don't exactly know what the crossover is with, but it seems interesting.
    I'm eagerly looking forward to the next chapters :D
     
    Omnimessiah said:
    It does look like Emma triggered with some kind of Thinker power, kinda. Also, I don't exactly know what the crossover is with, but it seems interesting.
    I'm eagerly looking forward to the next chapters :D
    Click to expand...
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    Cross is with the webcomic Schlock Mercenary, one of the best Space Operas I've read. (Warning: The comic has been updated daily since June 12 of the year 2000, archive binging it is not for the faint of heart)
     
    For those wondering, the Teraport (named for the trillions [tera] of wormholes [portals] it uses and not because it "tears you apart at the atomic level") is an effective weapon against non-baryonic lifeforms.

    Which in the Worm-verse = Endbringers and Entities. (Think if Fletchette could imbue a swarm of BEEEES with her power and shoot that at you.)
     
    - holy crap she's got the entire Schlock Mercenary tech base in her head. There goes the galactic cluster neighborhood
    - And Emma has crazy precog -- and still uses it to make Taylor's life hell. That's just pure evil
     
    As far as Tinker powers go, this one is broken beyond belief. The more fundamental to the universe a specialty, the more it can be exploited. Programming like Andrew Richter is a subset of information tinkering. But here, we have something so broad that it encompasses more than just a fundamental force... I am worried that if Taylor gets off the ground, she will quickly find Contessa or The Simurgh putting her on a path.
     
    You had me at the "Schlock Mercenary" in the crossover description.

    I know it probably won't happen, but Petey and Dragon need to meet :p

    You've got my attention.
     
    o_O seems like a really OP tinker power. Is this powered by a shard? Because damn the entities are OP if even a 10th of this is able to happen
     
    Balatro Philologus said:
    Cross is with the webcomic Schlock Mercenary, one of the best Space Operas I've read. (Warning: The comic has been updated daily since June 12 of the year 2000, archive binging it is not for the faint of heart)
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Should be noted: I read well over fifty webcomics, and Schlock Mercenary is the only webcomic I know of that has gone without a single hiatus. Ever. And it's a daily webcomic. It hasn't even missed a day.

    Lordamnesia said:
    The best way to read it is to let it rest for a year, then over the course of a month or two, read it all again! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!
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    Respectfully disagree! Best way to read Schlock Mercenary is to start on Book 10 (Longshoreman of the Apocalypse) and then if you like it, go back and binge the whole thing. Then, keep up with it daily and binge archive bi-hourly until you memorize it like you'd memorize your Maxims.

    YuffieK said:
    For those wondering, the Teraport (named for the trillions [tera] of wormholes [portals] it uses and not because it "tears you apart at the atomic level") is an effective weapon against non-baryonic lifeforms.

    Which in the Worm-verse = Endbringers and Entities. (Think if Fletchette could imbue a swarm of BEEEES with her power and shoot that at you.)
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Actually, Entities/Endbringers might not be baryonic matter, but they definitely aren't dark matter. Pa'anuri are cheesed off by teraports because of the incident gravitational backwash. Entities are just really, really, really big. And Endbringers are galaxy-level masses that semi-overlap dimensions, folded in on themselves, same with Scion (who is slightly different from the Warrior Entity).

    It is true that the teraport could be a very frightening weapon without corresponding Schlockverse tech to counter it: teraports are easy to counter (teraport interdiction fields are just fields of very tiny gravity fluctuations for denying inbound teraports, and then uses localized gravy to deny outbound teraports, which is easy stuff for Schlockverse tech). However, not many people get to do things with gravy in Wormverse.

    Darik29 said:
    Am waiting Eagerly to see if Taylor ends up creating a carbo-sillicate Amorph by accidenr.
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    Taylor could create stagnant amorph goo for long-term/high-cap data storage, and she could also make an amorph goo reader, but to make a real carboscilicate amorph, she'd need millions of years and good evolutionary conditions.

    Ghostdevil said:
    o_O seems like a really OP tinker power. Is this powered by a shard? Because damn the entities are OP if even a 10th of this is able to happen
    Click to expand...
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    1. I disagree with the sentiment that this Tinker power is too overpowered. It is definitely overpowered by the standpoint of most Tinkers, but lots of other Worm powers are hax above and beyond what Taylor can deal with. Not to mention, one of Taylor's recurring problems is the same problem that humans in Schlockverse had: supply. Humans were able to get off the ground and into space because they were given a loaned annie plant. Building annie plants, building PTU alloy? Shit takes work. Taylor's going to spend a long time struggling to get on her feet, because she just can't pull annie plants from her ass no matter how she desperately, desperately wants it to be otherwise. She'll snowball hard into a Dragon+ tier Tinker when she finally gets a small fabber up that can produce annie plants, but that's a long ways in the future. Until then, Taylor has to work with some of the tech in she has that's less power-intensive, and have to cobble together power sources for those.

    2. All Tinker powers are basically the Entities trawling the the libraries of the tech-bases of previous civilizations they've toppled or observed. Testing things out. Extrapolate from there the various circumstances in which Entities would topple or observe the Schlockverse. Two options will readily present themselves.


    Lots of people assuming Emma has a Thinker power. Interesting.
     
    I still fondly remember my first Schlock binge, it lasted days and I carry on thanks to the help of cafeinated, carbonated drinks. At the end of it I was hoping to eat some old MRE's.
     
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