Symposium – 15/Jun/2012
The microphone was tapped for the third time. The man coughed. The audience continued to look round, vaguely, with few exceptions. Quite a few Symposium events started like this, but he'd been trying to get attention for nearly two minutes.
The nearest exception had a large badge "SCIENCE! Press", and wore a very elaborate-looking pair of goggles. Over his head floated a small flashing sign, "Recording", that was the same no matter what direction you looked from. He nudged his companion, who was cleaning his fingernails with what seemed to be a small light sabre.
"Huh?", said 'Old Republic News'. "Who's the stiff in the wheelchair?", asked 'SCIENCE!'. "Has the speaker got here yet?", came the reply. A nicely printed booklet marked "Program for the Second Annual Symposium for Wavium Science" was consulted. "It says 'Dr. Scure', 'Guest Speaker'. Any idea who that is?" "Not a BNF I've heard of."
On the stage frantic whispers came from an invisible source, "You're dying up there! You're so dead you haven't even been born yet! Wear the cos, Luke!" Unfortunately the excellent sound system relayed this clearly into the hall.
"I'm not wearing that stupid wig!", whispered the anonymous speaker out of the side of his mouth. "OK, just the cape and mask?" He sighed, "All right".
People looked up, with more interest at the stage. There was a heavily-built man in a wheelchair, clean-shaven with greying red hair. He was wearing trainers, jeans and denim shirt. Most notable was a lab coat, with bulging pockets, a short black cape and a black domino mask. "I'm Dr Scure, or rather I'm cos-playing him...", and people's attention started to drift away again.
"The voice! You've got to do the voice! Get into character!", came the frantic whisper. "Hmph. I'm Dr Scure! You will listen to my fascinating presentation!", boomed out. And, many people's attention was fixed on him.
Bobbing in the air next to him, in a horrible PPG-like way, was a one-metre tall figure. "Hi! I'm Scure Girl, his cute girl assistant!" This sudden arrival was in a pink ballet tutu, with pink and white leggings, pink shoes, and a short pink cape, floating in the air behind her. Her short dark hair was done up in bunchies on each side, and her brown eyes looking terrifyingly large behind a pink domino mask.
"What're you doing here?", the man hissed, "and where did you get that costume?" "I used my ninjitsu powers to henge it up!" Some of the audience started paying more attention. "You're supposed to be operating the slides." "I can do that using my telekinesis!" Even more audience became attentive.
"This is...", the man looked at the girl, "My spunky girl sidekick". "You're no gentleman adventurer!" hissed the reply. People in old-style clothes, with metal attachments screaming "Steam-punk!" were now watching.
"I'm not Mad, just occasionally a bit annoyed", and the man looked at the girl, who briefly stuck her tongue out at him. "Now..." He picked up a book, titled "Quantum Physicists Humour". "I told you to get rid of that!" hissed. "It was half price!" he hissed in reply.
A little laughter rolled round the crowd. The man threw the book over his shoulder, winced, and glared at the girl. "If my assistant here will select the first slide..."
...
"... and so pico and fermitech logic are inadequate. The need for FTL communication between the god-like intelligence sub-elements implies something of the order of attotech. For example computational rod-logic using wormholes. You will see the light-cone effects mean we must map the operating phase space onto a Hilbert Space of at least seven dimensions, and twelve are required to solve some problems."
He stopped, put down his notes, and looked at the audience. "I wont need to show you the math", and he waved his hands, getting some laughter and some puzzled looks.
"Now. Questions?" "No time for that! We're already late for "Grill The Professor". "Ditch the mask and cloak!" was hissed.
And he did. And they left.
"Who was that masked man?"
Came a dazed question from someone not paying full attention.
"Not sure", came a reply.
"But, I think he was supposed to be someone pretty obscure".
--
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" - Hawkwind
The microphone was tapped for the third time. The man coughed. The audience continued to look round, vaguely, with few exceptions. Quite a few Symposium events started like this, but he'd been trying to get attention for nearly two minutes.
The nearest exception had a large badge "SCIENCE! Press", and wore a very elaborate-looking pair of goggles. Over his head floated a small flashing sign, "Recording", that was the same no matter what direction you looked from. He nudged his companion, who was cleaning his fingernails with what seemed to be a small light sabre.
"Huh?", said 'Old Republic News'. "Who's the stiff in the wheelchair?", asked 'SCIENCE!'. "Has the speaker got here yet?", came the reply. A nicely printed booklet marked "Program for the Second Annual Symposium for Wavium Science" was consulted. "It says 'Dr. Scure', 'Guest Speaker'. Any idea who that is?" "Not a BNF I've heard of."
On the stage frantic whispers came from an invisible source, "You're dying up there! You're so dead you haven't even been born yet! Wear the cos, Luke!" Unfortunately the excellent sound system relayed this clearly into the hall.
"I'm not wearing that stupid wig!", whispered the anonymous speaker out of the side of his mouth. "OK, just the cape and mask?" He sighed, "All right".
People looked up, with more interest at the stage. There was a heavily-built man in a wheelchair, clean-shaven with greying red hair. He was wearing trainers, jeans and denim shirt. Most notable was a lab coat, with bulging pockets, a short black cape and a black domino mask. "I'm Dr Scure, or rather I'm cos-playing him...", and people's attention started to drift away again.
"The voice! You've got to do the voice! Get into character!", came the frantic whisper. "Hmph. I'm Dr Scure! You will listen to my fascinating presentation!", boomed out. And, many people's attention was fixed on him.
Bobbing in the air next to him, in a horrible PPG-like way, was a one-metre tall figure. "Hi! I'm Scure Girl, his cute girl assistant!" This sudden arrival was in a pink ballet tutu, with pink and white leggings, pink shoes, and a short pink cape, floating in the air behind her. Her short dark hair was done up in bunchies on each side, and her brown eyes looking terrifyingly large behind a pink domino mask.
"What're you doing here?", the man hissed, "and where did you get that costume?" "I used my ninjitsu powers to henge it up!" Some of the audience started paying more attention. "You're supposed to be operating the slides." "I can do that using my telekinesis!" Even more audience became attentive.
"This is...", the man looked at the girl, "My spunky girl sidekick". "You're no gentleman adventurer!" hissed the reply. People in old-style clothes, with metal attachments screaming "Steam-punk!" were now watching.
"I'm not Mad, just occasionally a bit annoyed", and the man looked at the girl, who briefly stuck her tongue out at him. "Now..." He picked up a book, titled "Quantum Physicists Humour". "I told you to get rid of that!" hissed. "It was half price!" he hissed in reply.
A little laughter rolled round the crowd. The man threw the book over his shoulder, winced, and glared at the girl. "If my assistant here will select the first slide..."
...
"... and so pico and fermitech logic are inadequate. The need for FTL communication between the god-like intelligence sub-elements implies something of the order of attotech. For example computational rod-logic using wormholes. You will see the light-cone effects mean we must map the operating phase space onto a Hilbert Space of at least seven dimensions, and twelve are required to solve some problems."
He stopped, put down his notes, and looked at the audience. "I wont need to show you the math", and he waved his hands, getting some laughter and some puzzled looks.
"Now. Questions?" "No time for that! We're already late for "Grill The Professor". "Ditch the mask and cloak!" was hissed.
And he did. And they left.
"Who was that masked man?"
Came a dazed question from someone not paying full attention.
"Not sure", came a reply.
"But, I think he was supposed to be someone pretty obscure".
--
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" - Hawkwind
