Posted: Mon Sep 07, 2015 10:13 pm
Poindexter Drake looked at the rectangular module that Rocco DeCavalcante had just handed him. Has Mr. Verostic tested this? he asked.
I watched him playing with it for over an hour, Rocco said, taking a huge drag on his Guinea Stinker and blowing the smoke in Drake's direction.
Must you? Drake coughed, swatting the air around him with his hands in an attempt to dissipate the cloud of cigar smog.
Hey, this is a ten dollar cigar! DeCavalcante exclaimed.
Maybe, but it smells like New Jersey! Drake replied. Keep it to yourself if you don't mind!
You want me to get rid of the geek now? the short, heavy set curmudgeon asked.
No, I still need to be able to make more of these things, and we still don't know if it's going to work yet. Drake replied. Why don't you go somewhere else with that burning turd you think is a cigar, and let me work here. I'll contact you when I need you. Meanwhile, I suggest you keep Mr. Verostic happy. I still have need of him.
Very well, Drake, Rocco muttered. I think I'll go get myself a steak dinner. I'll be back later with the receipt, this one is going to be on you.
Fine, fine, Drake said, looking the other way and waving at his partner as if asking him to leave.
Poindexter busied himself with the task of connecting the quantum processor module up to the electronics inside of the robot. His creation currently resembled the skeleton of a T-800 model 101 terminator, as it still lacked the external skin that would give it a human appearance. It would still be just as functional however. Drake had already tested all of the robot's systems using the primitive computer hardware that he had available and had verified that it was fully functional. The blueprints he'd stolen from the Cheyenne mountain research lab just before he'd been thrown out of there by General Hayes, plus the prototype hardware from the latest DARPA research lab had given his effort a real bootstrap. Now he hoped to pay them back, in spades.
Andy Verostic breathed a sigh of relief as Rocco slammed the door and left with the computer cube in his pudgy hand. It hadn't taken him very long to figure out that he wasn't being recruited by some secret government think tank, but rather by some mob run organization. That had been obvious as soon as he'd met Rocco, the plug ugly who had been assigned to babysit him. Whoever had set this thing up though, had plenty of money to throw around, he'd give them that. The facility he'd been locked up in for the past few months was top notch, wherever it was located.
Andy had been given comfortable sleeping quarters with everything he'd needed for his work, and to keep his sanity. It was a prison of sorts, that was for sure, but a very comfortable one. He'd been brought here blindfolded in the middle of the night after a long ride in the backseat of a windowless, soundproofed van, not able to see where he was going. The vehicle had made plenty of turns to conceal their true direction of travel.
Eventually Andy was able to figure out that he was hidden somewhere in NYC, probably in upper Manhattan or the Bronx. He'd been able to determine that much by pinging the internet from his computer and doing some route tracing on the network, not that that did him any good, however. Andy was convinced that he'd be silently disposed of eventually, and he knew that he'd need to figure out a way of getting some help. Unfortunately, his computer network connection was monitored. Any attempt on his part to contact the outside world had been blocked by the firewall that Drake had installed.
There was one hope, however. During his attempt to figure out his location, Andy had noticed an outsider attempting to hack his way into his computer. Probably just some rouge kid hacker thinking he'd found some government agency. Maybe, with any luck he might be able to send a message if he could only open up a weak spot in the firewall so that this hacker could break into from the outside.
I watched him playing with it for over an hour, Rocco said, taking a huge drag on his Guinea Stinker and blowing the smoke in Drake's direction.
Must you? Drake coughed, swatting the air around him with his hands in an attempt to dissipate the cloud of cigar smog.
Hey, this is a ten dollar cigar! DeCavalcante exclaimed.
Maybe, but it smells like New Jersey! Drake replied. Keep it to yourself if you don't mind!
You want me to get rid of the geek now? the short, heavy set curmudgeon asked.
No, I still need to be able to make more of these things, and we still don't know if it's going to work yet. Drake replied. Why don't you go somewhere else with that burning turd you think is a cigar, and let me work here. I'll contact you when I need you. Meanwhile, I suggest you keep Mr. Verostic happy. I still have need of him.
Very well, Drake, Rocco muttered. I think I'll go get myself a steak dinner. I'll be back later with the receipt, this one is going to be on you.
Fine, fine, Drake said, looking the other way and waving at his partner as if asking him to leave.
Poindexter busied himself with the task of connecting the quantum processor module up to the electronics inside of the robot. His creation currently resembled the skeleton of a T-800 model 101 terminator, as it still lacked the external skin that would give it a human appearance. It would still be just as functional however. Drake had already tested all of the robot's systems using the primitive computer hardware that he had available and had verified that it was fully functional. The blueprints he'd stolen from the Cheyenne mountain research lab just before he'd been thrown out of there by General Hayes, plus the prototype hardware from the latest DARPA research lab had given his effort a real bootstrap. Now he hoped to pay them back, in spades.
Andy Verostic breathed a sigh of relief as Rocco slammed the door and left with the computer cube in his pudgy hand. It hadn't taken him very long to figure out that he wasn't being recruited by some secret government think tank, but rather by some mob run organization. That had been obvious as soon as he'd met Rocco, the plug ugly who had been assigned to babysit him. Whoever had set this thing up though, had plenty of money to throw around, he'd give them that. The facility he'd been locked up in for the past few months was top notch, wherever it was located.
Andy had been given comfortable sleeping quarters with everything he'd needed for his work, and to keep his sanity. It was a prison of sorts, that was for sure, but a very comfortable one. He'd been brought here blindfolded in the middle of the night after a long ride in the backseat of a windowless, soundproofed van, not able to see where he was going. The vehicle had made plenty of turns to conceal their true direction of travel.
Eventually Andy was able to figure out that he was hidden somewhere in NYC, probably in upper Manhattan or the Bronx. He'd been able to determine that much by pinging the internet from his computer and doing some route tracing on the network, not that that did him any good, however. Andy was convinced that he'd be silently disposed of eventually, and he knew that he'd need to figure out a way of getting some help. Unfortunately, his computer network connection was monitored. Any attempt on his part to contact the outside world had been blocked by the firewall that Drake had installed.
There was one hope, however. During his attempt to figure out his location, Andy had noticed an outsider attempting to hack his way into his computer. Probably just some rouge kid hacker thinking he'd found some government agency. Maybe, with any luck he might be able to send a message if he could only open up a weak spot in the firewall so that this hacker could break into from the outside.