Chapter 270: (The Black Box) (2/2)
”But they didn't,” Sam said, opening a panel and looking at the data. ”OK, temperature of the server room is almost on target, almost at a vacuum,” he said. He looked at Herod. ”This thing's really sensitive to noise.”
”Why do you even need it? I can have the creation engine run off a hand dataslate with more processing power,” Herod said, frowning. It seemed like a waste of time and resources.
Sam sat down and sighed. ”Let me explain it to you how I explained it to Legion.”
”Go ahead,” Flowerpatch said, her nanite body clearly defined. She laced her fingers together and set her chin on them.
”All right, to hack the system I have to be able to talk to it,” Sam said.
”Which is why Delta is trying to figure out what hardware is needed,” Herod said.
”Won't help him or me,” Sam said.
Flowerpatch frowned. ”Why not?”
”How much do you know about computers?” Sam asked.
”I can use one,” Flowerpatch admitted. ”I mean, I am, basically, a hyper-advanced self-aware sentient computer program.”
Herod snorted. ”I know a lot about them.”
”Then you know that an operating system has several layers. The layer we need to be most concerned is the hardware abstraction layer,” Sam said. He checked the temperature and atmospheric sensors again. ”OK, the logical qubits are stable. That's good. Whew, this is primitive stuff.”
”Hardware abstraction layer?” Herod said.
”It's the bottom of the of operating system. Down where most users never see it. It takes the input from the user interaction layer and translates it to instructions to the hardware,” Sam said, glossing over most of the information. ”It's the backbone of an OS, and what we're going to need to figure out to access the SUDS network. It also allows different manufacturers or types of hardware to be used with the operation system. Without it, the user can't talk to the hardware, which means, I might have to build or hack a virtual one up to get SUDSy to talk to me.”
”Can't we just access the operating system?” Herod asked.
”Maybe. It might not help,” Sam said. He moved over and sat down in front of the desk. ”I wish it could have been original hardware but eight thousand or more years probably makes it impossible.”
He put his fingers on the keys and tapped them for a moment, his eyes closed. ”A QWERTY keyboard, obsolete for thousands of years. Actually designed to be slower to type from the research I did on the way here.”
”Why use it then?” Herod asked.
”Because I need to use what works with this, not hack up a patch to get modern stuff to communicate with it,” Sam sighed and rolled his neck, a biological habit that looked odd on an android. ”The OS is bad enough. It's not the clean ones we have now, they were a lot more involved, a lot more cludgy to use their term.”
”How so?” Flowerpatch asked.
”They used what was called a Seven Layer OSI Networking Model. It consisted of the hardware layers : Physical, Datalink, Network, Transport and the software layers : Session. Presentation. Application / user. It was designed to work with hardware and software that literally evolved on a day to day basis. Nowadays software patches happen once every few months, back then a typical regular user could expect at least one piece of software to have a minor or major update every day.”
He smiled, a wan thing, and petted his purrboi. ”It must have been an amazing time.”
Flowerpatch watched with interest as the therapy frame wearing Sam pressed a physical button on the top of the computer and it beeped and began to whir. The screen, a simple 2D curved micro-LED screen, flashed several times, then showed a logo for a long moment before showing a login.
”That's odd,” Sam said. He cocked his head and looked at it. ”If this was all new stuff the system should be blank.”
”Are you sure this is newly fabbed stuff?” Flowerpatch asked mildly.
”Of course it is. This old stuff uses magnetic media storage. Even the solid state drives should be dead within years of being unpowered,” Sam said. ”You'd get magnetic drift and corruption over time. With the solid state stuff, it used trapped electrons in a part of a transistor that's electrically insulated that got there through early quantum tunneling hardware, back then really cutting edge stuff that was actually put into civilian use before widespread military use.”
”Nobody has used magnetic media in...” Herod said, then trailed off.
”Yeah, eight thousand years,” Sam said, his voice missing any rebuke as he hit the password hint. ”This isn't even molycirc, it's actually old complimentary metal-oxide silicon solid state semiconductors.”
Next to my pen appeared on the screen as Flowerpatch hummed, thinking about the materials engineering requirements for such a thing.
”Naw, no way,” Sam said. He pulled open the desk drawer and sneezed at the dust. He looked inside. ”Really? No way.”
He typed and the computer beeped, showing a simple 2D workspace.
”We'll leave you to it,” Flowerpatch said, standing up.
Herod went to protest but Flowerpatch grabbed his hand in the virtual space and pulled him out of the room.
”Why's Victor having someone mess around with obsolete technology?” Herod asked.
Flowerpatch giggled. ”Because it wasn't obsolete when the SUDS network, the SolNet, and the SoulNet were created.”
Herod frowned then groaned when he realized it. ”He's doing the same thing with the computers that we're having to do with our specialities.”
”Exactly,” Flowerpatch said. She giggled again. ”Legion hired a hacker. It makes perfect sense. We don't have any authorized logins or passwords, he needs someone who can crack the system and get in.”
”Computers are twice as fast as they were back then,” Herod joked.
Flowerpatch giggled. ”And the average voter is just as drunk and stupid as ever.”
”I'll never understand the fleshies,” Flowerpatch giggled. ”Imagine cloning and mental engramming the clone to be an ancient ruler, putting his head on a giant robot combat chassis, and electing him to rule the Confederacy, all because it was funny.”
”Fleshies are weird,” Herod agreed. ”It's almost grating that eighty-percent of the advancements come from some clump of barely functioning biomatter instead of us digital sentiences.”
Flowerpatch shrugged and giggled again. ”I can tell you why, but you won't believe me.”
Herod stopped at his door. ”Tell me.”
Flowerpatch faced him then, weirdly enough, blew a spit bubble, stuck out her tongue so the bubble was on the tip, and stared at it cross-eyed for a moment. Herod could hear her nanites humming for a long moment before the bubble popped. He was about to ask what was going on when she spoke.
”We interact with the physical world when it suits us or we have need to,” she said. She blew another spit bubble and waited till it popped. ”They live in it.”
”What does...” Herod started to say.
Flowerpatch puffed into black, purple, and dark green dust that whisked away down the hallway.
”Chromium Jesus, she's weird,” he said, putting his hand on the panel and rezzing into his lab.
He stared at his board, which had molecular interactions of noble elements in a highly energized plasma field written on it. He thought about it for a long time, staring at those boards. Finally he pinged Delta and Torturer.
The two arrived simultaneously.
”What's up?” Delta asked, looking at the board. ”Wow, that's... some equations.”
”What do you need?” Torturer asked gruffly.
”I need you to fab me up a nanite body,” Herod said. ”Like Flowerpatch has.”
”Easy enough,” Delta shrugged. ”You could have just requested a creation engine to fab you up the nanites for that.”
”That's not all,” Herod said. He pointed at the equations on the board. ”This is going to sound crazy, but I need a custom reality interface.”
Delta smiled at that.
”With pain and other tactile sensation,” Herod finished.
Torturer smiled. ”Easy enough.”
”Not so fast,” Herod said. He pointed at the board again. ”I need to be able to be one of those particles, or the plasma stream, or the magnetic stress.”
Delta nodded. ”That's an interesting request. Why?”
”So I can understand these particles better. Know what it is to be them,” Herod said.
”It could be dangerous, it could be painful,” Delta warned.
Herod summoned up a stock picture of a Pre-Glassing scientist in his white coat, a pipe, glasses, and his lantern jaw.
”Would he have hesitated?”