Cyber Core, Chapter 66, Why Joachim Insists On Elevators

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#Log Entry: Project Day 0019 ##Addendum 66: ​

"A 'zip-line' amounts to a very strong rope extending across two or more points, which permit a rider with specialized equipment to traverse quickly and safely," I explain, to Jilalyn as well as Snatdrure and Scinjir. "Back where I come from, it was used for a variety of purposes, including entertainment for customers to enjoy scenic views of forests and the occasional means for workers to get from their homes to their worksites and back again. Over." ​

I can see Scinjir nod in comprehension from the camera on top of the resource-collection structure. ​

"And to answer your question, as well, Scinjir, I have instructions for building a device called an 'elevator'. It's a machine that safely brings people or equipment up or down within a hollow well or tower dedicated to the purpose. My plan is to construct two of them: one on the far side of the resource-collection unit from the foyer, and the other directly next to the foyer. The one connected to the foyer will connect with the doors on the side of the stairwell on one side, and the other side will open to the remaining floors of the genius building when I finish constructing them. Over." ​

"Wait, why two?" Scinjir asks. ​

Before I can fully assemble my answer, I can see Snatdrure sit up and cross her arms, shaking her head. "Coddling the aristocrats," she asserts. "The one on the far side of that other thing of his, that'll be for the working classes to ride, or for bringing useful goods up from his manufacturing areas rather than asking folk to carry them up the stairs in their arms. The one opening onto the foyer, that one'll have fancy decorations and maybe artwork on the walls, as sure as the sun rises on that side of the valley." ​

She points dawnward. "Uh, I guess I should say 'over'," she finishes. ​

"Strictly speaking, the 'passenger' elevator is less about 'coddling the aristocrats' than providing ease of access to all my floors for everyone," I answer. "It's another part of the safety laws that I can't really ignore, even if I wanted to. Remember, the world where I come from has no magic. We have other ways of helping people who have lost limbs to injury or disease, but not all of the options fully restore those limbs. And, to be honest, while people of every walk of life may lose one or both legs, not all of them can pay the price to get them completely replaced. For those who may wish to visit or reside in me, I want to make sure they can move about as freely as possible. Over." ​

The airwaves stay silent for a full 5.23 seconds. ​

"Your world sounds like a very interesting place, Joachim," Jilalyn remarks. "Perhaps, when all of our business is concluded, you could tell us more, over." ​

I add a chuckle. "I look forward to it, my friends. But for now, let me see what's happening with the rest of the guests..." ​

I direct the majority of my active attention to my other cameras, cycling through 'upper cliff, exterior', 'foyer, interior' and the occupied apartments. ​

The other Halflings remain sleeping soundly, with Sudryal likewise in peaceful meditation. The soundproofing seems to have kept the clatter of Fancy Hat and Big Hands' footsteps from disturbing any of them. Hopefully, the next performance of 'leading the Fuin-Bratehls down to the Labyrinth' will continue the streak. ​

In the 'main suite', Thakhibi and the two Kragg boys likewise snore in ragged chorus. Granted, all three have much better reasons to sleep through any 'disturbances', but since the noises outside never got as close to their apartment as it did for Sudryal and the Halflings, it's even less of a surprise to see them still at rest. ​

And in the 'honeymoon suite', Ulotamph and Mathieu are still awake and... ​

Adding a pair of bright red ovals just under the avatar's eyes, even as it stands on the wall of the main suite where literally no one can see it, I quickly re-route my attention from the cameras in that 'unit' to the foyer's exterior; no need to interrupt the two of them at this time. ​

The forest-wolf pack have milled around a bit, nosing into the abandoned goods left behind by the Fuin-Braetehls and helping themselves to anything edible remaining. The pups cavort on top of the abandoned ground-cloths, chewing or scratching or even trying to drag them a bit before giving up and turning their attention to play-fighting. It's frankly adorable, and I find myself wondering whether the forest-wolves can be domesticated. Certainly not immediately, absent what I'm sure are some specialized skills from at least one of the guests, as well as supplies, tools and facilities I'll still need time to fabricate. ​

I indulge myself by animating a single, approving nod of the avatar's head at the sight of the chains and cuffs intended for Ulotamph and possibly Mathieu laying abandoned in the clearing. The pair of forest-wolf scouts nearby treat them with suspicion, batting at them with their paws and backing away for a moment... ​

Another indulgence, but even better-warranted; I put a wide smile on the avatar's face while the larger member of the scout pair proceeds to 'mark' the largest coil of the chains; by means of studying the pattern of the 'marking', I can now perceive this wolf as a 'she'. Her partner does the same to a similar pile from the other length, and they both turn their backs to scratch dirt and traces of scrub-brush onto the chains with their hind legs before resuming their 'patrol' duties. ​

I can't help but categorize it as a step in the right direction, since the 'slave collars' and chains are now quite thoroughly out of the Fuin-Braetehls' hands. But as the main group of full-grown members sniff their way around the foyer's perimeter remind me, in between occasionally exchanging bared teeth or even dominance-asserting bite-maneuvers, we still need to encourage these creatures to move on. ​

Inside the foyer, one of the Fuin-Braetels... the practical-minded one who grabbed the long-handled tools... has started filling what water-skins they retain while the remaining five explore the 'wonders' of the restrooms. Each of the four 'sanitary pad dispensers' in the women's stalls get poked and prodded, at least two more pads get pressed into service as boot insoles... ​

... And more 'marks' get scribed on the walls, stall-doors, and mirrors. Fortunately, these result exclusively from knives or other sharp implements. Nothing other than mildly-dirtied water gets smeared or smudged on anything. ​

I'm somewhat gratified that all six of the Humans at least run water over their hands in the sinks, as well as three of them figuring out the purpose of the warm-air blower and vent to dry their hands. I haven't quite managed to produce a formula for a soap-substitute or hand-sanitizer using ingredients I can harvest or produce from within the nanites' collection-range, so their handprints remain less than sterile... ​

##Addendum 67: ​

"I don't think I actually wounded any of the forest-wolves," Snatdrure says, over the radio. I can see her peeking over the edge of the rooftop and examining the pack-members out on the grassy area between the concrete pad of the foyer's foundations and the treeline. "That one's limping, maybe from a shot to the hip or something, but I don't see any blood. And that one there, hanging back by the trees, keeps shaking his head and scratching his muzzle..." ​

Scinjir holds a hand up over his eyes. "I see him, yeah," he says. "Poor little guy, got smacked in the nose and then covered with something I bet itches a lot..." ​

"That 'poor little guy' would happily eat you, marrow and all, Scinjir," Jilalyn transmits. "Not sure if he'd be able to recognize you as the direct and personal source of his pain, but I really wouldn't suggest trying to make friends with him any time soon, over." ​

Snatdrure nods, then settles back down onto the roof. "Well, it sound a lot like we'll be stuck up here for a while, at least," she says, trying to make herself comfortable. She jerks a thumb in the direction of the wolf-pack. "We won't be clambering back down the ladder while that lot's out and looking for food. I also don't much care for the idea of dealing with six adolescent Humans under normal circumstances. When they're probably tired, hungry, cranky from lousy sleep and winding down from all the excitement of escaping the wolf-pack with the help of a mysterious, unseen helper..." ​

"... Well, that's sort of what I'm gambling on," Jilalyn breaks in. "I'm going to try keep up with that nasty-talk that got them in the foyer in the first place. Maybe sweeten the lure with hints that there's food down below. Maybe water and treasure, too, but certainly something to get them out of the foyer so you and Scinjir can at least get down off the roof, over." ​

Snatdrure makes a non-committal noise, and I can just make out a similarly noncommittal gesture she makes with the hand my camera can perceive. "It's not all that bad, up here," she says. "The roof's a bit harder than I'd like, but we've spent the night under worse conditions, haven't we, Scinjir?" ​

She pauses for thought. "Uh, hey, Joachim, am I supposed to say 'over' when I'm finished with what I was saying, but I'm talking with someone who's right here nearby?" ​

I chuckle at her through the link. "None of you are part of a formal military organization, or even a police unit, so I can't reasonably hold you to what they would call 'proper radio discipline' back where I come from," I point out. "Ending your transmissions with 'over' is just basic courtesy when you're having conversations with someone you can't see, and neither of you have any other way of realizing when the other person is finished speaking, or is trying to think of something else to add, over." ​

All three of them transmit gentle laughter in response to that. Which, despite the ragged edges due to exhaustion, still sounds wonderful. ​

"All right, well, let's see about simplifying matters at least a little bit," Jilalyn says. "I'm going to get back to the insults from the 'mysterious mocking woman' to the Fuin-Braetehls over your 'speakers', Joachim. Better to anger them again and send them chasing 'me' before they can truly get their wits back about them. Oh, and I can't think of any better signal to let you know that I want you to stop sharing my voice than that two-clicks thing with the radio, so let's use that. I don't want to have to give up this... 'radio link' to the rest of you completely. Uh, over." ​

"Confirmed," I respond. "...I'll toggle the broadcast function with the two-click 'yes' signal until we agree to change, Jilalyn, over." ​

"All right. The rest of the plan is to goad them into going down the stairs, across the open expanse to the other stairwell, and down to the third sub-level so you can wall them up into the Labyrinth with the other two. Over." ​

"... While somehow ignoring the other apartments on the ground-level," Snatdrure points out. "Joachim, you can lock the door in that... uh, 'maintenance stairwell', you called it? Anyway, here's hoping that you can keep them from trying to get up to that unit, since that's where their 'prizes' are hiding, anyway. Over." ​

"Oh, that's a good reminder," Jilalyn says. "Um, Joachim, those recordings of Ulotamph and Mathieu you say you have... when I'm not transmitting, do you think you could include a few choice ones to lead the Fuin-Braetehls along, over?" ​

It takes almost a full clock-cycle to work my way through the more advanced voice-modulation settings I have available, but I manage to respond with audible notes of embarrassment in my voice. "Oh, yes, Jilalyn, I can provide several extremely 'choice' clips of both of them, especially from the last twenty minutes or so, over." ​

The silence drags on for exactly 2 seconds before I can see Scinjir sit up straight and clap both hands over his mouth. Even Snatdrure manages a gasp, while Jilalyn doesn't bother to restrain her giggle. ​

"Oh, well, if they're going to provide you with exactly what the Fuin-Braetehls think they're after, Joachim, who are we to turn down their assistance?" she manages to say before collapsing into giggles for a fill 3.62 seconds. She manages to catch her breath just long enough to transmit, "... Over..." before the laughter resumes...

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