SlickRiptide

Any decent bookstore can order it if they don't carry it. It's a "graphic novel", or at least that's the section of the store you'd find it in. The book is really a collection of the individual issues of the comic, which would technically make it an anthology, I suppose.

A sovereign experience of Common Grounds. *envies Samuraiko*

Cute! Not to mention the Brothers Grimm ending, what with being hauled away by spiders in your sleep. Just the thing for putting a kid to bed without nightmares. Ha ha ha! I'm inclined to speculate that you're British.

So, for you people who have done this before - What did you find worked best for you? Trying to write a couple of pages every day or a chapter every few days? What did you do to keep yourself motivated?

“Okay, what’s going on? Why is that funny?”

Armitage coughed and looked serious again. “Do you know the circumstances of my brief visit to Skyway Psychiatric Hospital, Detective?”

“I have the report here.” Brogan picked up a sheaf of pages from the folder and glanced over them. “You were found wandering the streets with a suitcase of electronic devices. You were disoriented and apparently amnesiac. When you were coherent at all, you told at least three people that your name was Sam, that you were a time traveler, and that you had an invisible friend named Allan or Albert. After a night in the city jail, the authorities transferred you to Skyway for psychiatric evaluation. ”

Brogan looked at Armitage over the top of the pages he held. For his part, Armitage was listening attentively, with no sign that he was dissembling or uncomfortable with the topic.

“Three days later, you spontaneously regained your senses.” Brogan frowned as he read the paper. “Your, ah, ‘roommate’ said that you had been ‘hit by lightning’ right before you became yourself again. He seemed to think that the restoration of your faculties had something to do with you speaking to his step-son on the telephone and convincing the step-son to reconcile with his step-father.”

He snorted cynically. “It sounds like something you’d write a bad TV show about.”

Armitage shrugged. “I don’t remember much about that period. I was literally running for my life when I activated the transporter I had built. It was barely a prototype and there were, shall we say, ‘side effects’”

Brogan listened skeptically as Armitage told his tale. “When the second invasion came, they were everywhere and it was the most brutal thing I’d ever seen. The first invasion was a picnic by comparison. “

With a shudder, he turned horror-struck eyes to Brogan. “There was no quarter. There was no mercy. There was only death on every side. They were following some kind of scorched earth policy and they had the weapons to make it happen. I literally watched the city melt and burn before my eyes. It was as if they had no lesser goal than to eliminate all trace of mankind from the face of the Earth.”

“With only moments to act, I packed up every important piece of equipment I could carry, along with data on some experiments that I had at hand. I had already been toying with them as useful ways to establish a ‘grubstake’ if I ever got brave enough to try leaping to a new time. Circumstances forced me into making it into more than a daydream.”

“The building began to crumble into dust around me as I activated the machine and leapt into the portal. My last sight of my own time was the platoon of Rikti soldiers that had broken down the walls and were casually laying waste to the laboratory and everything it contained.”

“Let’s say I accept that for the time being," said Brogan. "What happened when you arrived in this time?”

“I don’t really know. The trip through the portal had deleterious effects upon my nervous system. You’re familiar with the idea of an electro-magnetic pulse, and the effect it has on electronic equipment?”

Brogan nodded and said nothing. He had retrieved his pen and notepad and was busily taking notes on Armitage’s statement.

“The human nervous system is a kind of bio-chemical electrical system,” said Armitage. “The portal had ‘Swiss-cheesed’ my brain in a manner similar to the scrambling that an E/M pulse would cause to a computer network. I was out of my mind for several days, as your report says.”

He paused with a furrowed brow. “Mainly, I remember a blue room and being asked innumerable questions by someone named Ziggy, most of which I was unable to answer.”

A strange look crossed his face. “I went back there some time later, after I had established myself. They were very forthcoming about my treatment, but they denied having anyone with that name on their staff, and a tour of the facility showed me that there was no ‘blue room’ to be interrogated in.”

With a resigned shrug, he said, “It was probably a delirium-induced fantasy. I might have heard a jail guard make a reference to Zigursky Penitentiary and simply incorporated it into the delirium.”

Brogan wrote a few more notes and placed the notepad into his inside coat pocket. “So, if I understand you correctly and more to the point I believe you’re being truthful, I should conclude that you couldn’t leap through the ‘time door’ to commit a murder because you’d be incapacitated when you arrived?”

“That’s it, exactly.” Armitage waved his hand to indicate the odd belt that Eddi had strapped around his ‘waist’. “We actually solved the problem of the portal some time ago. The true challenge has been designing a shield against the effects of the time traveling.”

“What you witnessed today was the very first test of the shield by a sentient being.”

“And this prototype shield? Why couldn’t you use it to commit the murder?”

Eddi answered. “The shield is not yet fully refined, Detective Brogan. Your nervous system has no ‘backup systems’, so to speak. It is ‘safe’ for me to use because my ‘nervous system’ is comprised of innumerable parallel neural networks that are able to compensate for each other when one or more of them fails.”

Pointing to one of the computer readouts on a nearby desk, he said, “As you can see, the trip was not without its dangers, even for me.” Brogan could not make heads or tails of the data on the computer screen, but he nodded sagely anyway just to keep Eddi talking. “The shield was effective, but only because my internal systems were able to compensate for the interference from the temporal realignment and reboot the damaged portions of my central nervous system.”

His head swiveled between Armitage and Brogan. “If a bio-chemical life form such as yourself or Doctor Armitage had attempted the trip, the most probable outcome would have been that you were rendered unconscious for an extended period of time, coupled with a slighter version of the disorientation suffered by Doctor Armitage after his trip through his original time portal.”

Brogan crossed his arms and shook his head. “That’s a great story except for the part where I happened to stumble in here just in time to witness your first test of this supposed ‘time shield’. That’s a pretty big coincidence.”

With a frown, Armitage began walking across the room towards what appeared to be a moderately-sized laptop computer. He beckoned Brogan to follow him and Eddi trailed along with them.

“One thing I know, Detective – There are no coincidences.”

Surprisingly, it was Eddi that spoke up in defense of Armitage. "That is not possible, Detective Brogan. Prior to your arrival at our laboratory, we had tested the device using remote monitors only. Today is the first time we have used the transporter to move a person. "

Brogan raised an eyebrow at Eddi's reference to himself as a "person", but he let it go. "You can't be sure of that. You're a machine. How can you be certain that Armitage hasn't tinkered with your memories?"

Eddi's eyes flashed rapidly and he made a strange "uh-uh-uh" noise that sent a chill down Brogan's spine. Armitage was smiling faintly, and Brogan realized with some relief that Eddi was chuckling in amusement!

"Forgive me, Detective Brogan. With all due respect to Doctor Armitage, his skills lie in other areas. If he was to attempt to erase my memories, he would be more likely to destroy my brain entirely."

Eddi sketched one of his half-bows towards Armitage. "No offense intended, Doctor Armitage"

"None taken, Eddi," said Armitage with a fully fledged smile now.

That smile vanished as he turned back to the matters at hand. Motioning towards the photos on the countertop, he asked, "How did you connect this pistol to me, Detective?"

Brogan smiled grimly. "Your fingerprints." He held up a sheet of paper that showed the prints in question.

As Armitage examined the forensic report, his face clouded over. "I don't understand. Why do the police even have my fingerprints recorded?"

"It's standard procedure when a John Doe is picked up and transfered to Skyway Psychiatric," replied Brogan. He looked over to Eddi. "Your 'associate' here hasn't always been playing with all of his marbles."

He'd prepared himself for the needling to provoke a strong reaction from Armitage. He was surprised and mystified when Armitage looked over at Eddi and broke into a big grin.

For the first time since they had met, Brogan saw Armitage visibly shaken. “Murdered?” asked Armitage, disbelievingly. “How can you know that?”

“I know it because I’m a policeman and criminal investigation is what we do. Don’t you watch CSI?”

Armitage shook his head as if a bit of sand had gotten into his mental gears and a good rattling might dislodge it.

“I’m sorry, Detective Brogan. This is a shock.” He glanced over at Eddi, whose face was incapable of showing any true expression at the news. If he was “feeling” anything, he was apparently waiting patiently to hear Brogan’s explanation of his statement.

Brogan took a few steps over towards where Armitage stood, sliding the folder along the counter with his fingers. He deliberately stood close enough to Armitage to make him uncomfortable, and picked up one of the photos.

It was a picture of an unusual looking handgun. The pistol resembled a Luger, but the barrel was somewhat longer and there were baffles on the side of the barrel that appeared designed to vent exhaust from the firing chamber.

“Have you seen one of these before?”

Armitage blanched, and gripped the side of the countertop with his left hand. His right worked spasmodically for a moment. Abruptly, he nodded.

“It’s a Wes and Smithson .48 caliber, nicknamed the Treborn Facilitator. I used to own one.”

Brogan arched an eyebrow. “You ‘used’ to own one? Where is it now?”

“It’s in a locked box at the bottom of the closet of my home.” Armitage looked up at Brogan, and the worry in his eye was palpable. “My real home, in Baumton of the year 2025.”

“Baumton?” Armitage snorted. “You realize that Baumton is a gigantic blast zone, don’t you?”

“Only for another five years,” retorted Armitage. Brogan’s accusatory tone had finally triggered some kind of self defense mechanism in him and he was regaining some of his composure.

Brogan nodded imperceptibly. Despite being shaken, Armitage was sticking to his story. “Whatever else he is, he’s consistent,” he thought sardonically.

"This unusual gun was recovered near Clarks' remains. The design is like nothing on the market today. Would you care to guess what manufacturing date is stamped on it?"

"2015," said Armitage dully.

"That's right," agreed Brogan. "There's also no such gun manufacturer as 'Wes and Smithson'."

"There won't be for another four years," replied Armitage. "The name was a sort of a joke. I remember an interview with the founders who claimed they would have chosen a more conventional name if they'd realized how successful they would become."

"There were two cartridges recovered from the scene." Brogan indicated another of the photos. "Clark was killed by a single shot to the head, fired at close range. Judging by the positions of the remains, he might have been pinned under a cave-in of what was then a parking garage."

Armitage nodded. "I did a fair amount of research into the ruins before arranging for the excavation. I was aware of its previous use."

Brogan frowned. "If he was pinned, it's a bit of mystery as to why two shots were fired." Watching Armitage speculatively, he said "What we do know, is that the shots were fired AFTER the cave-in. There were no other human remains, so it's something of a mystery how the murderer got into the 'cavern' and back out again."

After a pregnant pause, Brogan said, "At least it seemed mysterious until this afternoon." He waved at the command console. "Your machinery is based on Clark's designs. You have his robot. The Institute will have your patents and you'll be fabulously wealthy and influential if you can make it work reliably."

"You just spent the last twenty minutes handing me the means, motive and opportunity on a silver platter."

Getting back to the story, I have to admit that I'm having a difficult time buying this one. I'm not sure that Stefan Richter requires the humanizing touch. I'm willing to see where it goes, though.

It only requires that that she choose to use her mother's maiden name. These things happen all the time, especially if the relationship with the father is somehow damaged or if the father is unknown.

We don't know anything about Ms. Liberty's father. All we know is that Alexis Cole prefers to use her maiden name and her daughter likewise prefers to carry the "Statesman family name". The most likely explanation is that neither of them wants to be associated with the "Mr. Duncan", whoever he is. Alternatively, it's just Alexis who prefers to avoid "Mr. Duncan" and Jessica is simply "Cole" because that's how she was raised by her mother.

Though if you want to get prurient, Tyrant seems to have no qualms about making it with his granddaughter so make of that what you will...

“Are you familiar with chemical reactions, Detective?”

Brogan made an exasperated noise. “What does that have to do with time travel?”

“More than you might imagine!” replied Armitage. “As I mentioned, Reality as we perceive it is actually, at its most fundamental level, an infinitely complex interaction of sub-atomic particles. Instead of attempting to model the universe at a ‘macroscopic’ level, I have succeeded in modeling the relevant parts of the ‘microcosmic’ levels of the universe.”

“But you just called it ‘infinitely complex’. How are you able to model that?”

Armitage lovingly patted the machinery that Brogan had come to think of as “the control panel”. He waved to indicate the “lamps” that still illuminated the floor space where Eddi had disappeared, as well as some nearby computer consoles.

“Thanks to many breakthroughs we’ve made here, along with some technology that survived my original trip to this time period from 2025, it isn’t necessary to try and build a model of the exact state of the universe. All that’s necessary is to measure its equilibrium and then determine the extent it can be shifted and the directions in which it can be shifted.”

His brows furrowed, Brogan tried to remember his High School chemistry classes. “I’m not getting how any of this relates to chemistry,” he admitted.

“It’s very simple, Detective. Let’s imagine that I have two chemicals, A and B, and that are both clear liquids. When I mix them together, a reaction occurs and the vial of AB turns red. From a macroscopic viewpoint, the reaction has finished and has achieved a static result. I now have a red fluid.”

“The microscopic viewpoint is another picture entirely. At the molecular level, the fluid is in a constant state of flux. At any given moment, we have molecules of A, B, and AB that are combining with each other and then breaking apart. The situation appears static from the outside because the two reactions, the combining of A and B molecules into AB, and the decay of AB into separate A and B molecules are happening at the same rate. The supposedly static steady-state is really two opposing reactions that are at equilibrium.”

Brogan frowned dubiously. “Do I understand you to be saying that Reality is the side effect of a cosmic ‘chemical reaction’?”

“That is precisely what I’m saying. With Eddi's assistance, I have applied some of Professor Clark's unpublished designs to successfully build a suite of quantum computers that can measure the state of the ‘cosmic equilibrium’, determine how and where it is sensitive to change, and accurately describe the conditions at the point of arrival.”

Brogan's eyes narrowed. "Your work is based on Clark's? Why would you need to do that if you managed to get here from the future?"

Armitage had begun working with his monitoring devices again as the moment of Eddi's arrival approached. "My original designs were insufficiently accurate. This was not the time period I was aiming for. I've spent most of the last few years rebuilding my original designs and enhancing them using Clark's designs."

Armitage looked up at Brogan, and a faintly fanatical look was in his eyes. "In fact, it's my hope to reach that moment in time as soon as you give us clearance to conduct our experiments at the excavation."

"So, it would be fair to say that without Clark's designs, your own designs would be failures."

Armitage looked stung. After moment, though, he sighed and said "Honesty requires me to acknowledge the truth of your statement. I only wish that Professor Clark himself had been alive to accept his share of the credit."

"I bet!", muttered Brogan to himself.

One-minute remained before Eddi’s return. Armitage stepped up to the control console once more as Brogan thought about what he had said. "This 'quantum equilibrium' makes a kind of sense, but I still don't see how it explains why Eddi hasn't come back yet."

"Uncertainty, Detective!" Armitage was once more engaged in monkeying with his computers and machines. "You can think of my devices as having created a kind of 'soap bubble' around a particular piece of time and space and described it accurately enough to allow a traveller to step through the 'bubble' to that other time."

"My goal is to push the Uncertainty onto the outcome of the events inside of the 'bubble'. A side effect is that the 'bubble' becomes fixed in time and space. My time machine can move you through time, but not through space. Likewise, the passage of time for the machine has to be identical to the passage of time for the traveler. For all intents and purposes, the machine is synchronized with the traveler."

"You can think of it as a door that stays open until the traveler walks back through it." Armitage waved at the door where Brogan had entered the room. "When you walk through that door over there, you have no control of what or when is on the other side. The 'time door' is no different. It's not a conveyor that drops you whenever you wish. It's simply a portal that connects two points in time that happen to otherwise occupy the same space."

A faint glow had appeared in the spot where Eddi had vanished. A few seconds later, Eddi himself was standing under the 'floodlights'.

Armitage smiled in satisfaction. "Welcome back, Eddi! I trust that all is well?"

Eddi swiveled his head towards Armitage as he stepped over to the computer console that Brogan had seen him use earlier and began plugging in the various monitors again.

"The return trip caused reactions similar to those of the outbound trip, Doctor Armitage. The shield appears to have mitigated nearly all of the potential temporal realignment effects."

Eddi paused and, in what seemed to Brogan to be a weirdly human gesture, placed one claw on his "chin" and rubbed it back and forth.

"What is it Eddi?" asked Armitage.

"Perhaps it is nothing. When I activated the retrieval, I experienced a kind of buffeting, as if I was moving through an area of atmospheric turbulence."

"Hmmm. I see no record of it in the initial data summary but we'll have a lot of data to look over this afternoon."

Brogan walked over to Eddi and examined him. Up close, the robot seemed less threatening, or perhaps his "inner child" had finally accepted that Eddi was not a villain that had somehow jumped out of a television set in order to torment him.

"Where is the envelope that Doctor Armitage gave you?" he asked Eddi.

"I gave it to you, Detective Brogan." He swiveled his half-dome head and his eyes flashed as pointed at the briefcase lying open on the countertop. "I believe that it is right over there, in your briefcase."

Brogan grunted, and retrieved the envelope from the briefcase. He walked back to Eddi, who was currently being monitored. Armitage stopped whatever he was doing and he also walked over wearing a triumphant grin.

"You're sure this is the same envelope?" Brogan asked Eddi.

Eddi's eyes flashed as he examined it. "I am not equipped to do a quantum spectral analysis, but it appears to match the images stored in my recent memory."

Brogan glanced at Armitage and opened the envelope. He extracted the paper inside and unfolded it. Written in a large, flowing script were the words "childhood crush on Miss Bodell".

Armitage practically jumped up and down with excitement! "Yes!" he exclaimed. "We've done it Eddi! We sent you to the past AND we interacted with it in a meaningful manner!"

His exuberance dampened somewhat when he saw the hard expression on Brogan's face. "Well, Detective. I hope that YOU, at least, are convinced!"

Brogan looked at the paper and carefully folded it and placed it back in the envelope. He walked across the room and placed it into the briefcase. Turning back towards Armitage, he leaned on the counter with his arms crossed and his face inscrutable.

"I'm afraid that you HAVE convinced me, Doctor Armitage".

"You're afraid...?" A puzzled expression crossed Armitage's face, to be replaced by a look of concern.

"You didn't come here about releasing the excavation."

Brogan inclined his head slightly and remained otherwise stone-faced.

"That's correct. I came here about the matter of Professor Jonas Clark."

Brogan removed the folder from the briefcase and placed it on the counter. He flipped it open and slid it a few inches towards Armitage. Some typed sheets of paper and a handful of photographs were visible.

"While it's true that Jonas Clark died during the first few days of the invasion, it wasn't the Rikti invaders that killed him."

He paused for effect, and then looked Armitage straight in the eye.

"Jonas Clark was murdered."

Don't get me started on the issue of Ms. Liberty's name.

The long and short of it is that it started out as Jessica Duncan, was corrected to Megan Duncan, then showed up as Jessica Cole, then was corrected back to Megan Duncan by Sean Fish, the original lead story guy.

When _The Freedom Phalanx_ novel came out, she became Jessica again, and she was referred to as Jessica throughout the Top Cow run of the comic.

Officially, it seems her name is now Jessica Cole, though you can still find places where she's given other names if you look hard enough for them.

In my own mind, she's Megan Duncan, but I don't pretend that my opinion is in any way related to what appears to be the current canon.

That's a topic that has nothing to do with Stefan Richter, however.

As for Maiden Justice being Monica Richter, you just need to read _The Web of Arachnos_. Despite what some players might like to think, the novels are considered to be canon material. If you doubt that, I'm sure that Hero 1 would reply to a PM asking about it.

If you really want citations, Mr. Grey, I can try and find them for you again but you could probably do just as well by searching for posts with 'Liberty' in the subject by poster Slickriptide over the past year. I've been a loud complainer about this state of affairs. If you can find the thread I started about this topic in the City Life forum around six months ago, the citations you want are all in there.

As I said, this is really a topic that belongs elsewhere, not in Bluebattler's story thread.

“As I was saying, the Connor model represents Reality as a kind of multi-dimensional solid that encompasses all of time. Because it contains all possible actions, paradox is impossible. A time traveler who attempts to change Reality by altering past events will instead find himself participating in some fashion in the fulfillment of those events.”

“In Doctor Connor’s estimation, destiny is simply the fulfillment of your conscious track through the ‘temporal crystal’.”

“So, she dismisses Free Will?”

“THAT is a philosophical question. I deal with science. It’s much easier on the brain!” Armitage chuckled. “To talk about Free Will, you have to first agree on a definition of what it means. Most arguments about it derive from the participants starting from two differing notions of what exactly constitutes Free Will. Doctor Connor would say that if you were never coerced, that you exercised Free Will even if, from a multi-dimensional viewpoint, the events you participated in were actually eternal and unchangeable.”

“What do YOU say?”

Armitage considered the question. “I would say, for the purposes of this discussion, that it comes down to Uncertainty.”

Brogan shook his head. “You’ll have to explain that one.” He glanced towards the lighted area of the floor and then at the clock on the control console. Six minutes and ten seconds remained.

“Are you familiar with the Uncertainty Principle?” Armitage asked him.

“Sort of.” replied Brogan. “Doesn’t it have to do with how you can’t completely define the existing state of something because the act of observing has an effect upon it that changes its state?”

Armitage beamed with the proud air of a teacher whose pet student has made a particularly bright observation. “That’s close enough for our purposes.”

“In a sense, the differences between the two examples we’ve discussed and my methods boil down to where we place the Uncertainty.”

“The forking reality model tries to remove the Uncertainty entirely, with the effect that Reality itself becomes uncertain and you can’t know which reality you’re experiencing until you directly observe it.”

“You also can’t be sure that the reality that you experience is, in fact, the same reality that someone else experiences since you have to first establish which version of that person you’re referring to.”

“The cat is both alive AND dead!” said Brogan.

“Precisely! Doctor Connor’s model, by contrast, attempts to remove the Uncertainty from Time, with the result that it falls upon the time traveler himself. This has some interesting consequences. Her version of a time machine would only be able to open a path through the 'tunnel' of a single person’s life, and only to the times and places experienced by that person.”

“Since Reality is fixed, the act of moving through time and space has unpredictable results upon the traveler, causing him to conform to the requirements of Reality at his destination. This could be an apparently random series of events pushing the traveler towards a certain outcome regardless of his own actions. It might even cause a kind of “quantum compression” or “quantum scaling”, forcing the traveler to assume the physical or mental form that he originally possessed at that time in his own life!”

Brogan’s eye widened in disbelief. “You mean that I could step into this ‘time tunnel’ to try and stop the Kennedy assassination and when I arrived at the other end, I might be three years old?”

“Theoretically speaking, yes.” Armitage grinned. “Doctor Connor is still years from applying her theoretical framework to the design of a prototype device. So far, no one has been in a position to verify what will actually happen.”

Brogan glanced at the clock again and fixed Armitage with a penetrating look. “We’ve established what ‘your methods’ are NOT,” he said with a trace of impatience. “Now, why don’t you tell me what ‘your methods’ actually ARE.”

If they only genericed your name (without Smurf in the name, there's no call for genericing the outfit), just call her Blue Nurse or something and don't worry about it. Your three-year-old niece won't know the difference unless she's some kind of prodigy at reading.

You can try appealing the decision, but the whole concept of "smurf" is a copyrighted/trademarked concept so I wouldn't get my hopes up.

Or you could rename her "Ners Merf" and see how long it takes to get reported again. *heh*

Thanks. It's a kind of an extensive setup, but given that it's pretty obviously a time travel story, the setup is neccesary (in my mind) to insure that it's at least minimally consistent and believable.

Plus I really like the idea of working with Holsten Armitage. I always figured he deserved more than just a one-off 'Hi! I'm the Science Store!" mission.

Color me confused. If she's already drawn and colored the art, what is the list of requirements for? I'm confused as to whether she's selling proof sheets of the cards, single proofs, original art, or offering to take commissions with the list of rules being what she's willing to draw or not draw?

Armitage consulted a digital clock placed near the controls of the time-travel device and began making notations in a nearby composition notebook.

“Well, Detective Brogan,” he said, without looking up from his writing. “It seems we have fourteen-and-a-half minutes in which to answer any questions you have.”

Brogan looked at the briefcase, but his curiosity about Armitage’s statement got the better of him.

“Why fourteen minutes?”

“What do you mean?” This time Armitage lifted his head and looked at Brogan curiously.

“I assume we’re waiting for Eddi to return. Why wait fourteen minutes? Why doesn’t he just return now or even five minutes ago?”

“Ah! You’re asking why he can’t return at some arbitrary point in time.” Armitage looked thoughtful. “That would take some explaining. To a layman, it would be confusing.”

Brogan frowned, and then decided that Armitage was not being deliberately insulting. “Try me. Police training requires learning some science and I’ve been known to read a book once in a while.”

If Armitage noticed the implied rebuke, he gave no sign. Instead, he thought for a moment and finally said, “You’ve no doubt heard of ‘Schroedinger’s Cat’?”

“Sure,” replied Brogan. “You put a cat and a vial of poison gas together in a box along with a device that has a 50/50 chance of activating the poison. The cat could be alive or it could be dead, but you don’t know until you open the box. According to some cockamamey theories, the act of observing the cat influences its state, and therefore the cat is in some indeterminate state while the box is closed. Until you open it and force it to resolve its reality by looking at it, the cat is neither alive nor dead, or maybe it’s both alive AND dead.”

“Very well put!” said Armitage with a smile of approval. “I daresay that the matter of observing the outcome looks rather different from the cat’s point of view, though, which is one of the failures of that particular thought experiment.”

“In any case, it illustrates a different and much more important point about the Universe – ‘What you look for is what you get.’ That is, the methods by which you choose to observe the universe and the expectations inherent in your method of observation have a direct influence on what you learn about the Universe and how your observations affect it.”

“I’m not sure what you’re driving at.”

“What I’m saying, Detective, is that there’s more than one way to skin a cat!”

Armitage chuckled, as Brogan waited, stone-faced. Armitage sighed at the failure of his joke and continued, “At the sub-atomic level, Reality ceases to exist. What we think of as ‘Real’ is actually the result of an indescribably complex interaction between a multitude of these quarks, muons, and so forth. At a certain point, Reality simply dissolves into what scientists have nicknamed ‘The Quantum Foam’”

Brogan nodded. “Alright, I don’t really understand all of that, but I’ve at least read about it before in one of those ‘The Life and Times of Time’ books by Emmett Lloyd Brown.”

“Excellent! You really are much better versed in these matters than I would have expected!”

Brogan grunted non-committally and checked the clock. It showed some ten minutes or so until Eddi’s scheduled reappearance.

“What does any of this have to do with time travel?” he asked.

“Everything!” exclaimed Armitage. “There are innumerable technical complications, but they all boil down to two related facts.”

“Firstly, so-called ‘time travel’ has little to do with ‘time’ and everything to do with the nature of Reality. ‘Time Travel’ is just a method whereby an individual chooses a particular aspect of Reality to interact with, instead of being limited to only that aspect which is visible to his senses at any given moment.”

“Secondly, there are as many different ways to ‘time travel’ as there are ways of imagining the nature of Reality, and each of them are just as valid as any of the others. How you do it is simply a function of how you choose to observe the Universe.”

That caught Brogan up short. “That sounds completely senseless! The Universe has physical laws that it follows! You can’t just ignore them and impose your own set of imaginary laws onto it!”

“Trust me, Detective. At the sub-atomic level, a scientist armed with the proper technology and understanding can do precisely that!”

“What about the parallel universe theory? How do you know that your ‘time travel’ isn’t just traveling to a different universe?”

Armitage nodded sagely. “As I said, there are several possible ways to ‘time travel’ and all are equally valid. The ‘forking reality’ concept is one useful way of imagining time and interactions with it. As evidenced by the existence of Portal Corporation, it even has some practical applications.”

“As a way of manipulating ‘time’, however, it is useless. It fundamentally denies the possibility of altering Reality, preferring to view alterations as substitutions of one Reality for another. My goal is to affect a change in our Reality, not to observe a series of possible variations upon it.”

Brogan protested, “I’ve read enough about this stuff to know that any trip to the past is automatically going to cause a paradox.”

“Not necessarily,” replied Armitage. “For instance, one of my colleagues, Doctor Connor, has her own theories. She believes that ‘time’ is like a block of crystal, which she imagines to extend from the birth of the universe at one end to the death of universe at the other.”

“This ‘temporal crystal’ is inviolate. It reflects every action ever taken and every action that will ever be. Our consciousness occupies a kind of track through the ‘temporal crystal’, that traces our lives. She even believes that a single consciousness can travel down a series of tracks in the ‘temporal crystal’, giving a scientific basis for the phenomenon of ‘past lives’ or reincarnation.”

Brogan looked briefly as if he was a hound that had caught an interesting scent. He put his hand into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, then shrugged and unlocked the briefcase. Armitage raised an eyebrow expectantly, but Brogan ignored the sealed envelope and instead extracted a pen and notepad of his own.

“This colleague of yours,” he said. “What was her name again?”

“Connor,” replied Armitage. “Why would you…?”

“Her full name, please,” interrupted Brogan. He held the pen and pad expectantly.

Armitage was nonplussed. “Ah, well, as to that…,” he began. He looked flustered, and then surprised. “You know, we’ve known each other professionally for almost two years, and I’ve never thought to ask her for her full name. Susan? Sarah?”

“You say she’s a professor at Paragon City University?”

“Yes, in the physics department.”

“That will do for now, then.” Brogan scribbled, and then put away the pen and notepad.

“You were telling me about Professor Connor’s model for time travel.”

Armitage eyed the notepad in the open briefcase. “May I ask…?”

“No.” Brogan’s impassive face brooked no argument.

Armitage frowned in puzzlement, but finally he straightened his shoulders and went on with his explanation.

Kinda hard to know how/if we can help if we don't know what your questions are.

I'm glad some folks are enjoying Eddi's story. There may be a brief intermission as I wasn't quite as far along as I imagined. *heh* I know the roadmap for the rest of the story, but from here on out, I'm winging it.

“Well?” Brogan asked impatiently. He turned to face Armitage, then pointed at the empty spot on the floor. “Where did it go?”

Armitage looked annoyed. “Eddi is not an ‘it’, Detective. HE is an electronic life form. Despite his comical appearance, his internal hardware and software are every bit as sophisticated as the best supercomputers here at the Institute. He was designed and built by Professor Jonas Clark, who was something of a genius in these matters.”

“’Comical’, my [censored]!” thought Brogan. His inner bloodhound raised its nose and sniffed eagerly at the mention of Clark’s name. Aloud, he asked “Why build a super high tech artificial intelligence into a Goonbot?”

“How very interesting!” Armitage replied enthusiastically, ignoring the question. He pulled a pen and a notepad from an inside pocket of his coat. “Is that why you’re so hostile towards him? He resembles the antagonist from a child’s television program?” He scribbled on the pad, and then replaced both items into his coat. “Personally, I’ve always thought he looked like one of those robots from the old Rocket Man serials.”

Brogan remembered the last time he’d dealt with an “oppenheimer”, and counted to five instead of swearing. “You haven’t answered my question, Armitage. Why make him look like THAT?”

Armitage shrugged. “I don’t have the answer. Eddi was not an official University project. Based on the little I’ve gleaned from Eddi on the subject, I’ve concluded that Clark simply liked it that way. It amused him. Eddi was a hobby, Detective. Clark built him for the fun of it. If he had any actual plans for Eddi, they aren’t recorded anywhere and Eddi himself is ignorant on the subject.”

A new chime played, the deepest yet. A Goonbot entered from another room, identical in appearance to the one Brogan had seen spontaneously materialize, and then vaporize just as spontaneously. Armitage waved it over. “Eddi, this is our guest, Detective Brogan of the Paragon City Police Department.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Detective Brogan” Eddi said politely, managing a half-bow despite his lack of a waist.

“You’ve already made my acquaintance!” Brogan replied shortly.

“Have I?” Eddi asked. "The event is not recorded in my memory banks."

He swiveled his head towards Armitage, who tapped his wristwatch meaningfully. "Oh, I see!" Eddi exclaimed. "The experiment is a success then?"

"So far, yes." replied Armitage. With a ghost of a smile, he said "Why don't you take your place, Eddi, and we'll insure that it remains successful."

The robot walked to the spot where it had recently violated several laws of physics and waited. Armitage had stepped around behind a desk and was going through the drawers. The wheels turning in Brogan's head finally interlocked with the profile he was carrying in the folder in his briefcase and he looked from Eddi to the scientist wonderingly.

"So, it wasn't a teleport?" he asked. "You want me to believe that Eddi time-traveled to ten minutes ago?" By this time, Armitage had emerged from the clutter around the desk with a pen, paper, and an envelope identical to the one locked in the briefcase.

Armitage checked his watch and looked satisfied. He nodded to Brogan. "I understand it's difficult to believe. Trust me. I've been trying to convince others for years. Let's put it to the test, though. Tell me, Detective - What is something that you've never told anyone else, that I couldn't possibly have known about you before you arrived here?”

Brogan had never liked guessing games, especially when it involved one of his cases. For a second, he considered hauling Armitage down to the station and putting an end to the rigamarol. His instincts advised him otherwise. Years working the streets of Philadelphia as well as the surreal criminal underworld of Paragon City had taught him to trust his instincts.

With an effort, he summoned his professional detachment and considered Armitage’s question. "Alright," he growled. "I'll go along with your experiment." He gave Armitage his "bad cop" glare. "If I find out you're playing me, I'm going to be unhappy." Brogan took some satisfaction from the trepidation that crept into Armitage's enthusiasm.

Brogan looked thoughtful for a moment. "When I was nine-years-old," he began, "My teacher was Miss Bodell, and on the first day of school I was smitten. She was my first love and my first heartbreak. I worshipped her for most of the school year. The heartbreak came when I was walking home one evening after baseball practice. She lived near the school and I'd made a habit of walking past her house and imagining that I'd someday knock on the door and impress her with my mature conversation. She'd be unable to resist and she'd fall madly in love with me. I happened to look up, and there she was, holding the hand of a man I’d never seen before. She kissed him, and it felt like someone had punched me in the chest. When she got married that summer, I was sure I'd never love another girl."

Brogan snorted at the memory and looked over at Armitage. The scientist was writing on the paper and smiling. He looked up and said, "My childhood crush was Kat Railly, the girl in the third row in my math class. I spent the whole year afraid to talk to her, then her family moved that summer and I never got the chance."

Armitage sealed the paper into envelope and handed it to Eddi. "When you see Detective Brogan next, please ask him to put this into his briefcase where it can't be tampered with."

"Very well, Doctor Armitage," Eddie replied. He extended a claw and pressed a button on the belt he wore that caused various parts of it to light up and come alive. "I am ready to begin whenever you are."

Brogan's eyes went from his briefcase, to the envelope in the robot's hand, and back again. He suddenly experienced an almost overwhelming urge to snatch the envelope from the robot’s grasp. Before he could act on it, Armitage threw a switch, and a group of oval-shaped fixtures set in the ceiling ignited, lighting the area around Eddi like a floodlamp. A second later, he was gone.

[ QUOTE ]

General thought is there any way to know for sure what badge you are attaining prior to getting it?


[/ QUOTE ]

You know how you stand next to a police drone and you get one or more power icons in your "current effects" list, that go away when you leave the vicinity of the police drone?

According to the Dev Diary, you'll see something like that. You'll get a power icon in your "powers affecting you" list and the "tool tips" for that icon will explain about the day job associated with that place.

This is pretty interesting because what's really happening is that you're having a power applied to you, and then the game engine is recording that power when you logout, recording it again when you login, and taking action based on the differences in the timestamp.

The game engine could potentially react similarly to ANY power that happens to be in effect on your character when you login or logout.

It's interesting new technology. I'm not sure what else it could be used for, but I bet that some imaginative people could come up with some intriguing ways to utilize such a capability.

Just as a for instance, imagine that you not only log out in the Police station, but you have your Pax edition PPD Hard Suit power active. The game could detect that and give you a different outcome than someone who logged out without any special police related power active.

No, this is not suggestion that someone do that. The last thing we need is more complaining about rare special effects. It's just an illustration of how the technology could be used beyond the basic idea of day jobs.

"Wha...?" Brogan stammered. He flinched back as the Goonbot extended a claw toward him, and then realized it was offering him an envelope. He glanced at Armitage. The scientist was openly curious; Brogan had the distinct impression that this exchange would very shortly find its way into a scholarly journal, as a paper analyzing the behavior of human beings when faced with the spontaneous creation of malevolent electronic beings.

When Brogan made no motion to accept the envelope, Armitage shrugged and commenced activating various pieces of equipment. "Status report, Eddi?" he asked.

The Goonbot replied, "Status is nominal. Several non-essential systems are currently offline, but compensating circuits are already reinitializing and rebooting all but two of them. Overall operability is 94%. The shield appears to have functioned successfully within its design tolerances."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Armitage. Brogan waited for him to rub his hands and cackle maniacally. It was reassuring, if slightly disappointing, that he instead asked, "Are you going to take your envelope, Detective?" and returned to whatever he was doing.

The 10-year-old lurking at the back of Brogan's brain was warning him to run for his life and not look back! Brogan hadn't managed a successful career as a homicide detective in both Philadelphia and Paragon City by listening to his "inner child", however. When he failed to come up with any reasonable alternatives, he reached gingerly for the envelope, half-prepared for the robot to grab him at the last second.

For its part, the Goonbot released the envelope, bowed as cordially as its ungainly frame allowed, and turned towards a nearby computer. It picked up a bundle of cables, and proceeded to plug them into various receptacles placed around its armature. As it did so, its eyes flashed malevolently again. "I was instructed, Detective, that you should place the envelope into your briefcase and lock it such that you would be satisfied that no-one could tamper with it."

Brogan was dumbfounded. "What do you mean, you were 'instructed'? Who instructed you? What the hell is going on around here?" It was Armitage that answered. "I'm sorry Detective, we're on a bit of a time limit. I think I see where this is going, however. If you'll be kind enough to do as Eddi asked, he and I will finish our work and then we'll be free to discuss things at length."

Scowling, Brogan bit back his retort. He'd arrived without an appointment hoping to startle information out of Armitage. He hadn't calculated on Armitage pulling a role reversal! There was nothing to do at this point but go along with whatever was happening here and deal with the scientist once he had his full attention again.

He set his briefcase on a nearby table and placed the envelope inside, despite the urge to just open the damned thing. Slamming the lid irritably, he spun the padlock wheels a few times for good measure. Unless Armitage was a magician as well as a scientist (A distinction frequently blurred in Paragon City) there was no way he was getting inside the briefcase without Brogan's cooperation.

"I am ready to initiate retrieval, Doctor Armitage." The Goonbot had disconnected the interface cables and returned to the spot where it had first appeared. Another chime sounded, a deeper tone than the previous one.

Armitage glanced at the clock. "Just in time.", he said, looking satisfied. "At your discretion, Eddi."

The Goonbot reached a claw to a metal box attached to a belt at its waist that featured an assortment of dials and switches, as well as a single large button that the robot could easily press with its claw. As Brogan watched, it did just that. There was the briefest wavering shimmer in the air, as if he was looking through the heat haze over a desert road, and the Goonbot ceased to exist.

Yeah, but now you've seen what happens to the ones that get away with that!

I'll just point out to any dev that reads this thread that the benefits of a day job don't have to be combat related. Special emotes, costume parts, gladiators, and non-combat pets are potential rewards that would make it worthwhile to pursue a day job.


Location: Freedom Corps
Badge: Field Trainer
Combine with: A military badge
Accolade: Longbow Operative

Location: Hero Corps (near any hero corps operative or near the history plaque that marks the 'headquarters' of Hero Corps in Paragon City)
Badge: Hero for Hire
Combine with: A military badge
Accolade: Mercenary

Location: Dirty Duck, Bars in Pocket D and Tiki Room
Badge: Bartender
Combine with:
Accolade:

Location: Tiki Room Stage
Badge: Lounge Singer
Combine with: Thespian
Accolade: Entertainer

Location: Perez Park outdoor stage
Badge: Thespian
Combine with: Lounge Singer
Accolade: Entertainer (grants disco ball emote)

Alternatively--

Location: Tiki Room Stage or Perez Park Outdoor Stage
Badge: Entertainer
Combine with: Reporter
Accolade: Gossip Columnist (grants a 'microphone' emote)

Location: El Super Mexicano, City of Gyros, other restaurants
Badge: Short-Order Cook, Waiter
Combine with:
Accolade:

Location: Arena
Badge: Athlete
Combine with: Reporter
Accolade: Sports Commentator (grants an arena-cam non-combat pet. )

Location: Any FBSA office - G.I.F.T., .M.A.G.I., etc...
Badge: Bureaucrat (bonus Merit drops)
Combine with:
Accolade:

Self-proclaimed “scientists” are a dime a dozen in Paragon City. Most spend more time pitching their latest bizarre theories to people with deep pockets and shallow minds, or peddling their “inventions” to would-be Heroes, than they spend doing any serious research.

By contrast, Holsten Armitage had made a good impression on the right people. He was instrumental in organizing the rescue of Senator Vasily Dybalski from the Rikti when nobody, even the Hero who ultimately saved him, really believed he was in danger.

A grateful Dybalski had pulled strings and procured Armitage an appointment at the Titor Institute for Applied Metaphysics. He went to work immediately, producing three new patentable systems within a month, and assuring himself a permanent position at the Institute.

Saying that research scientists in Paragon City tend to be eccentric is like saying that Pete Rose had a tendency to gamble. Armitage was no exception. He claimed to anyone who would listen that he had narrowly escaped the annihilation of Mankind by the Rikti some twenty years hence. He was obsessed with preventing the supposed invasion.

The Titor Institute tolerated his eccentricities and even humored him. It made no difference to the board of directors whether his research was based on scientific theory from the future or a brilliant but delusional mind. As long as the Institute continued to receive patents for his work, it was all the same to them.

The clock read 14:15 when Brogan arrived at the Titor Institute. He was ushered into a lab and asked to wait while “Doctor” Armitage finished whatever he was currently doing.

As the office assistant announced his arrival, Brogan compared the researcher across the room to the “mad scientist” profile that he carried around in his head. Armitage looked to be in his early fifties, with unkempt white hair and a beard that would have done Santa Claus proud if not for its seeming to point in six directions at once.

A white lab coat rounded off his ensemble, and a bank of computer consoles with blinking lights and scrolling displays completed the effect. Brogan decided that Holsten Armitage would have no trouble winning the Oppenheimer of the Year Award at whatever convention caters to fringe scientists.

For his part, Armitage was positively effusive once his attention was freed from his work. He strode quickly and confidently across the room, hand extended; the picture of a man who believes that all is right with the world. "Detective Brogan, welcome! I'm relieved that you've finally come. I'd been expecting you yesterday!"

Brogan was taken aback. This was nothing like how he'd planned to open the conversation. "You were expecting me yesterday?"

Armitage grasped Brogan's hand warmly and pumped it enthusiastically. "Of course, of course!" The confusion on Brogan's face tipped him that he'd put the cart before the horse. "Ah, forgive me. By 'You' I simply meant someone in an official capacity, not you personally. I warned the excavators that they might find Professor Clark's remains and instructed them to inform the proper authorities immediately if that occurred. I had assumed that you came here to release the site so that we can get on with our experiment. The window of opportunity is limited!"

Brogan retrieved his hand from Armitage's grasp. "As to that..." he began. He was interrupted by a musical chime from across the lab, followed by Armitage quickly and firmly grasping his shoulder with one hand, his elbow with the other, and steering him several steps to the right.

"You'd best step over here." Armitage said. "We're not entirely certain about the radius of the electrical field."

Armitage stepped quickly over to a conveniently-placed workstation and began flipping switches. He looked past Brogan expectantly. Brogan turned and saw a brief shimmer in the air a few steps from where he had been standing. Without any warning, the empty space was suddenly full of brass and plastic, as a large copper-colored statue, shaped like an oil barrel with articulated arms and legs and a half-dome for a head, appeared out of thin air!

A thrill ran through Brogan, born completely of childhood fear and wonder. He swore under his breath and had his pistol half-drawn before he realized the absurdity of what he was doing.

Like many children of his generation who had had spent Saturday mornings in front of the television, he'd followed the adventures of Captain Blastoff and his adversaries, the Goonbots. Unlike most kids, he'd had nightmares about them the first time he saw them; at least, until Captain Blastoff had beaten them a few times. Eventually, he'd found them, if not amusing, at least not so frightening.

So he had thought, anyway. It seemed that childhood monsters could still jump out from under the beds to terrorize adults under the right circumstances!

"Hello, Detective Brogan", said the Goonbot with an evil grin, its eyes flashing malignly. "It's a pleasure to meet you again."

[u]June 20, 2007[u]

For Detective Jose Brogan, it was shaping up to be one of “those” days. His morning had been spent testifying in what should have been a straight-forward injury/unreasonable force suit between a criminal and the Hero who arrested him.

Unfortunately, the attorney for the plaintiff was the notorious Christopher Jenkins, a man who made even other attorneys shudder. The rookie Hero who made the collar, expecting a cut and dried hearing, had unwisely chosen to represent himself.

By the time Jenkins finished with him, it wasn’t a question whether the costumed crook would win damages. The only question was whether the Hero would be bankrupt afterwards. The question of guilt in regards to the criminal acts became almost a footnote in the whole bizarre proceeding.

When Brogan left the courtroom, the Hero was sitting with his face in his hands, broken and confused by a system that he had expected would embrace him and make a legend out of his exploits. It was a tough reality check on yet another would-be hero who expected that real life is like a comic book. Brogan felt for the guy.

“Still”, he thought a little wryly as he walked to his car; “If you’re going to ‘arrest’ people using a five-foot-long fiery sword, you’d better have your liability insurance paid up…”

The folder for Brogan’s latest case was waiting on his desk. He read through it, then walked into the Captain’s office and waved it at him. “Is this for real?”

Captain Brown smirked. “I know you like the weird ones”, he said.

“‘Like’ isn’t the word I would have chosen”, Brogan griped.

“Love ‘em or hate ‘em, nobody handles ‘em as well as you, Jose.”

Brogan sighed and opened the folder. “You know this Armitage guy is probably a nutcase, don’t you?”

“This town is full of nutcases”, Brown replied. “Look at those newbie Heroes you hang out with.”

Brogan looked up from the folder with a start. Brown picked up his coffee cup, then leaned back in his chair and surveyed Brogan coolly over the rim. Brogan said nothing.

Captain Brown finally broke the silence. “Word gets around, Jose. I don’t mind, personally. What you do on your own time is your business. Lots of cops help out Heroes, after all.”

He took a sip, set down the coffee and leaned forward. “If Internal Affairs gets the idea that you and your buddies are recruiting Heroes to be some kind of private army against these Lost yahoos, I can’t do much to shield you. They take a dim view of cops who take the law into their own hands.”

“I’ll be careful”, Brogan said.

“You do that”, said the Captain, as he picked up his cup again. “In the meantime, our job is to separate the dangerous nutcases from the less dangerous ones. I’ll expect a report on the Clark case tomorrow afternoon.”

The phone rang and Captain Brown answered it. After listening for a moment, he dismissed Brogan with a wave of his coffee, then turned away to tend to his own business.

Brogan looked at the folder again and shook his head. “This job was a lot simpler in Philly”, he said to nobody in particular, and headed out to interrogate a time traveler.