Turtles all the way down
Posted: Sat Jul 28, 2018 12:53 am
The idea for this story came from a comment by Elon Musk about the universe. It's yet another of my original Atom stories based on the characters I created, including Isaac the computer daemon.
The American Museum of Natural History, is located across the street from Central Park, in Theodore Roosevelt Park. The street entrance on Central Park West is guarded by a statue of the 26th President of the United States on horseback, who was one of the original founders of the museum. This part of the building was completed in 1936.
During the renovation of the museum, construction of the 8th Avenue line of the Independent subway system was underway. While Central Park West was being torn up to make way for the four tracks of the new subway, a top secret government facility was being built deep under the museum. The excavation for the new underground railroad, and the building of the museum's new facade, made for a perfect cover for the construction of the secret “think tank” deep underground.
Over in Europe, war was brewing. Hitler had already begun to put his plans for conquest into operation. Albert Einstein left Germany and settled in the US, taking a position at Princeton, in the Institute for Advanced Study. The famous physicist would later urge FDR to take Germany's work in atomic research seriously, which would result in the “Manhattan Project”. Eventually, some of the mathematical calculations for that work would be performed by human computers working in the museum think tank.
After the war, the underground 'bunker' was briefly transformed into a store house for top secret data in the form of photographic negatives, type written reports, and models of weird apparatus. With the development of the electronic digital computer, the think tank's purpose was again transformed. The most powerful array of computers on the planet were installed deep under Central Park West. The facility now served as an electronic warehouse of data gathered from the top secret work being done in the American South West in Area 51, NACA and later NASA space research, and from the alphabet soup of numerous government intelligence agencies.
Throughout the late 20th century, and into the 21st, the computer equipment in the think tank was constantly being upgraded, and research laboratories were installed. Most of the “skunk work” done here was in Electronics, Robotics, and A.I. A separate laboratory section was concerned with the study of archaeological finds concerning ancient technology.
Simon Green officially served as the assistant curator of archeology at the Museum of Natural History. He had done considerable field work all over the world participating in numerous digs where various finds now under exhibit had been found. Simon sometimes fancied himself as an adventurer in the guise of the fictitious “Indiana Jones”, and could often be found wearing a similar broad rimmed hat protecting his head from the sun. He also had several leather bull whips, and was proficient in their use.
Green also held a commercial private pilot's license, and owned a Beachcraft Starship turboprop aircraft, which was hangared at a general aviation airport on Long Island. He also held license endorsements for jet-turbine aircraft, and had logbook time in various Learjet and Cessina Citation jet aircraft.
Most importantly, he was the current head of the underground think tank research complex located several hundred feet below his office in the museum itself. These days, Simon rarely made the long elevator trip downward to enter his secret domain. The think tank now primarily served its government clients on line via secure network connections. Simon rarely needed to make face to face contact with the heads of the government agencies that he worked with, he could use his secure laptop from his museum office (which was hardened against physical and electronic break in attempts). The one exception was a certain General Hayes.....
Robert Levinson didn't look like the typical computer geek, at least not anymore. Lasik eye surgery had removed his dependence on coke bottle thick glasses years ago. A 20 speed, alpine geared racing bicycle with an ultra light weight frame made with carbon nanotube technology, provided him with his local transportation through the streets of Manhattan, while he burned off hundreds of calories that had one time been excess body fat. Rock climbing and mock sword fighting at various gym centers also helped him keep his now lean body in shape.
Levinson ran the think tank computer center that occupied several floors of the underground facility. He'd personally built the mainframe monster computer from bits and pieces of technology that had originally come from IBM, Cray, and various semiconductor chip makers. The current machine had started out as an IBM Summit machine, identical to the one installed at Oak Ridge, but was now many times more powerful. Several Quantum processors had been added, along with a huge cryogenic memory store.
Bob had also written the machine's hypervisor operating system. He'd gone beyond the limitations of command line and GUI interfaces, and even the natural language interface that IBM's WATSON machine sported. While legacy graphics terminals were still interfaced to the machine through lower speed sub-nodes, Levinson primarily used a holographic terminal almost right out of Star Trek.
A cylindrical column of ionized gas filled a transparent chamber a bit more than two meters in diameter, from the floor to the ceiling. Several multicolored laser beams scanned vertically though the smoky gas, while two superconducting magnets twisted the optical fluid about. Levinson stood in front of the visual column and smiled. “Good morning Isaac,” he said.
The smoky gas inside of the column cleared, and was replaced by an elderly gentleman wearing a white lab coat. The individual had a full head of white hair, and wore wire frame glasses with square lenses. He spoke with a distinctive 17th century British accent. “Good morning Robert.”
Issac was a Daemon, a computer program running independently of other programs, supervising their operation. He, or it, served as both the monitor of the mega computer, and the primary human interface. Issac had copies of his code on other mainframes that were networked to the one in the think tank. He was a distributed entity, and could make important decisions without human intervention, via his A.I. sub processors.
“We will have a visitor today,” Issac added, “I detect that he will arrive within the hour. I also predict that his request for our help will prove rather interesting.”
“Really?”, Bob exclaimed, rhetorically. “In that case, I'd better spruce up around here.”
Robert walked around the computer lab and half heartedly began to pick up bits of scrap paper filled with doodles. He returned several tools to the toolbox, and placed various reference books back on their shelves. He then looked about the lab, satisfied that the obvious clutter was now held to a minimum.
Two boys sat in the corner of the computer laboratory, staring at a computer terminal. Reno Guzmán, the taller of the two, sported a full head of brown hair. He was dressed in clean dark slacks, a white button up shirt with the collar open, and a pair of white tennis shoes. The other boy was dressed in a pair of blue short pants, a red tee shirt, and a pair of red high top boots. His dark brown hair with two star like cowlicks was slicked with hair gel.
“So what are you doing again,” the youth in the red boots asked.
“I'm writing a simulation program,” Reno said. “I'm trying to model how the universe works.”
“That's going to be quite a big program!”
“Well Atom, it would be if I included all of the universe in it!”, Reno said, giving his friend a nuggie between his hair spikes. “I'm only going to simulate our solar system, and the stars within ten light years of so. If I'm real luck, maybe my simulation will hint at the interaction between dark matter and dark energy. Cosmologists have been trying to measure that for years.”
“But you probably don't have enough data for a good enough simulation,” Atom replied.
“I'm sure I don't,” Reno agreed. “But just getting the program working to some extent would be an achievement. If I can get more data to work with later, eventually I'll have an answer.”
The computer lab grew silent as the hum of the lift heading down attracted everyone's attention. Simon Green was the first to exit the elevator when the doors opened, followed by a slightly overweight man in a general's uniform. The military leader held an overstuffed briefcase in his right hand, which was connected via a chain to a manacle strapped around his wrist. The general's eyes made contact with Robert Levinson's and he spoke.
“The government has an urgent need of your help, Mr. Levinson,” the general demanded. He looked around the laboratory and noticed the two boys sitting in the corner of the lab. “The information I'm holding is for eyes only,” he said sternly, casting a steel gaze at Reno. “You'll have to leave.”
“Reno Guzmán is my assistant, General Hayes, Sir.” Robert said, walking towards the general. “And my contract allows me to chose my assistants.”
“Not this time,” Hayes blurted out. “The information in this case must not leak out at any cost. I have my orders. The boy doesn't have the required top secret clearance.”
“I happen to know that your rank gives you the option to override clearances when necessary,” Issac's voice said. “Besides, you know that Master Guzmán played an important part in the matter of a certain Poindexter Drake, and your X-35 prototype, not to mention the rescue of a Dr. Verostic.”
“That incident was peanuts compared to this!”, Hayes replied, pointing to the briefcase that he was shackled to.
“You know, I've always wondered about the sense of doing that,” Simon Green laughed, pointing to the brief case. “You certainly have the key or the combination to that lock, and were you to be captured an adversary could easily get that case off of your person.”
“I'd never surrender it willingly,” the general replied.
“Yet it could be removed from your person quite easily with a hack saw.”
“This chain is hardened chrome steel,” Hayes replied.
“But a hack saw would cut through your wrist quite easily!”, Simon countered.
Saying nothing else, the general reached into his vest pocket with his left hand and removed a small key. He unlocked the handcuff, and then dialed the combination to open the brief case. “You will keep what you're about to hear secret, or you'll be spending the rest of your life at Gtimo!,” Hayes ordered in Reno's direction.
The American Museum of Natural History, is located across the street from Central Park, in Theodore Roosevelt Park. The street entrance on Central Park West is guarded by a statue of the 26th President of the United States on horseback, who was one of the original founders of the museum. This part of the building was completed in 1936.
During the renovation of the museum, construction of the 8th Avenue line of the Independent subway system was underway. While Central Park West was being torn up to make way for the four tracks of the new subway, a top secret government facility was being built deep under the museum. The excavation for the new underground railroad, and the building of the museum's new facade, made for a perfect cover for the construction of the secret “think tank” deep underground.
Over in Europe, war was brewing. Hitler had already begun to put his plans for conquest into operation. Albert Einstein left Germany and settled in the US, taking a position at Princeton, in the Institute for Advanced Study. The famous physicist would later urge FDR to take Germany's work in atomic research seriously, which would result in the “Manhattan Project”. Eventually, some of the mathematical calculations for that work would be performed by human computers working in the museum think tank.
After the war, the underground 'bunker' was briefly transformed into a store house for top secret data in the form of photographic negatives, type written reports, and models of weird apparatus. With the development of the electronic digital computer, the think tank's purpose was again transformed. The most powerful array of computers on the planet were installed deep under Central Park West. The facility now served as an electronic warehouse of data gathered from the top secret work being done in the American South West in Area 51, NACA and later NASA space research, and from the alphabet soup of numerous government intelligence agencies.
Throughout the late 20th century, and into the 21st, the computer equipment in the think tank was constantly being upgraded, and research laboratories were installed. Most of the “skunk work” done here was in Electronics, Robotics, and A.I. A separate laboratory section was concerned with the study of archaeological finds concerning ancient technology.
Simon Green officially served as the assistant curator of archeology at the Museum of Natural History. He had done considerable field work all over the world participating in numerous digs where various finds now under exhibit had been found. Simon sometimes fancied himself as an adventurer in the guise of the fictitious “Indiana Jones”, and could often be found wearing a similar broad rimmed hat protecting his head from the sun. He also had several leather bull whips, and was proficient in their use.
Green also held a commercial private pilot's license, and owned a Beachcraft Starship turboprop aircraft, which was hangared at a general aviation airport on Long Island. He also held license endorsements for jet-turbine aircraft, and had logbook time in various Learjet and Cessina Citation jet aircraft.
Most importantly, he was the current head of the underground think tank research complex located several hundred feet below his office in the museum itself. These days, Simon rarely made the long elevator trip downward to enter his secret domain. The think tank now primarily served its government clients on line via secure network connections. Simon rarely needed to make face to face contact with the heads of the government agencies that he worked with, he could use his secure laptop from his museum office (which was hardened against physical and electronic break in attempts). The one exception was a certain General Hayes.....
Robert Levinson didn't look like the typical computer geek, at least not anymore. Lasik eye surgery had removed his dependence on coke bottle thick glasses years ago. A 20 speed, alpine geared racing bicycle with an ultra light weight frame made with carbon nanotube technology, provided him with his local transportation through the streets of Manhattan, while he burned off hundreds of calories that had one time been excess body fat. Rock climbing and mock sword fighting at various gym centers also helped him keep his now lean body in shape.
Levinson ran the think tank computer center that occupied several floors of the underground facility. He'd personally built the mainframe monster computer from bits and pieces of technology that had originally come from IBM, Cray, and various semiconductor chip makers. The current machine had started out as an IBM Summit machine, identical to the one installed at Oak Ridge, but was now many times more powerful. Several Quantum processors had been added, along with a huge cryogenic memory store.
Bob had also written the machine's hypervisor operating system. He'd gone beyond the limitations of command line and GUI interfaces, and even the natural language interface that IBM's WATSON machine sported. While legacy graphics terminals were still interfaced to the machine through lower speed sub-nodes, Levinson primarily used a holographic terminal almost right out of Star Trek.
A cylindrical column of ionized gas filled a transparent chamber a bit more than two meters in diameter, from the floor to the ceiling. Several multicolored laser beams scanned vertically though the smoky gas, while two superconducting magnets twisted the optical fluid about. Levinson stood in front of the visual column and smiled. “Good morning Isaac,” he said.
The smoky gas inside of the column cleared, and was replaced by an elderly gentleman wearing a white lab coat. The individual had a full head of white hair, and wore wire frame glasses with square lenses. He spoke with a distinctive 17th century British accent. “Good morning Robert.”
Issac was a Daemon, a computer program running independently of other programs, supervising their operation. He, or it, served as both the monitor of the mega computer, and the primary human interface. Issac had copies of his code on other mainframes that were networked to the one in the think tank. He was a distributed entity, and could make important decisions without human intervention, via his A.I. sub processors.
“We will have a visitor today,” Issac added, “I detect that he will arrive within the hour. I also predict that his request for our help will prove rather interesting.”
“Really?”, Bob exclaimed, rhetorically. “In that case, I'd better spruce up around here.”
Robert walked around the computer lab and half heartedly began to pick up bits of scrap paper filled with doodles. He returned several tools to the toolbox, and placed various reference books back on their shelves. He then looked about the lab, satisfied that the obvious clutter was now held to a minimum.
Two boys sat in the corner of the computer laboratory, staring at a computer terminal. Reno Guzmán, the taller of the two, sported a full head of brown hair. He was dressed in clean dark slacks, a white button up shirt with the collar open, and a pair of white tennis shoes. The other boy was dressed in a pair of blue short pants, a red tee shirt, and a pair of red high top boots. His dark brown hair with two star like cowlicks was slicked with hair gel.
“So what are you doing again,” the youth in the red boots asked.
“I'm writing a simulation program,” Reno said. “I'm trying to model how the universe works.”
“That's going to be quite a big program!”
“Well Atom, it would be if I included all of the universe in it!”, Reno said, giving his friend a nuggie between his hair spikes. “I'm only going to simulate our solar system, and the stars within ten light years of so. If I'm real luck, maybe my simulation will hint at the interaction between dark matter and dark energy. Cosmologists have been trying to measure that for years.”
“But you probably don't have enough data for a good enough simulation,” Atom replied.
“I'm sure I don't,” Reno agreed. “But just getting the program working to some extent would be an achievement. If I can get more data to work with later, eventually I'll have an answer.”
The computer lab grew silent as the hum of the lift heading down attracted everyone's attention. Simon Green was the first to exit the elevator when the doors opened, followed by a slightly overweight man in a general's uniform. The military leader held an overstuffed briefcase in his right hand, which was connected via a chain to a manacle strapped around his wrist. The general's eyes made contact with Robert Levinson's and he spoke.
“The government has an urgent need of your help, Mr. Levinson,” the general demanded. He looked around the laboratory and noticed the two boys sitting in the corner of the lab. “The information I'm holding is for eyes only,” he said sternly, casting a steel gaze at Reno. “You'll have to leave.”
“Reno Guzmán is my assistant, General Hayes, Sir.” Robert said, walking towards the general. “And my contract allows me to chose my assistants.”
“Not this time,” Hayes blurted out. “The information in this case must not leak out at any cost. I have my orders. The boy doesn't have the required top secret clearance.”
“I happen to know that your rank gives you the option to override clearances when necessary,” Issac's voice said. “Besides, you know that Master Guzmán played an important part in the matter of a certain Poindexter Drake, and your X-35 prototype, not to mention the rescue of a Dr. Verostic.”
“That incident was peanuts compared to this!”, Hayes replied, pointing to the briefcase that he was shackled to.
“You know, I've always wondered about the sense of doing that,” Simon Green laughed, pointing to the brief case. “You certainly have the key or the combination to that lock, and were you to be captured an adversary could easily get that case off of your person.”
“I'd never surrender it willingly,” the general replied.
“Yet it could be removed from your person quite easily with a hack saw.”
“This chain is hardened chrome steel,” Hayes replied.
“But a hack saw would cut through your wrist quite easily!”, Simon countered.
Saying nothing else, the general reached into his vest pocket with his left hand and removed a small key. He unlocked the handcuff, and then dialed the combination to open the brief case. “You will keep what you're about to hear secret, or you'll be spending the rest of your life at Gtimo!,” Hayes ordered in Reno's direction.