No es la primera vez que hablamos de cine cutre en Zurcheva, y, lamentablemente para vuestras neuronas, tampoco será esta la última (adelanto una futura review de Luna Nueva y otra -que prometí hace tiempo y, malvado de mí, aún no he hecho- de Troll 2).

Al grano. ¿Qué demonios es esto de R.O.T.O.R.?

Robotic Officer Tactical Operation Research. A gusto que se quedaron.

R.O.T.O.R. es una película de 1989 dirigida, escrita y producida por el archiconocido (nótese la ironía) Cullen Blaine. Me puedo imaginar qué tenía Blaine en la mente cuando escribía el guión de R.O.T.O.R., y voy a aprovechar esto para explicar la fantabulosa historia que ésta cuenta.

Terminator mola. Terminator da pasta. Pero Terminator no lo tiene todo… me explico.

R.O.T.O.R. es un proyecto de superpolicia robot con bigote (detalle importante) creado por Coldyron (nótese el brillante juego de palabras entre Cold – frío y Yrom – Iron – Hierro), un científico-policía-karateka-cowboy-guaperas y, sin duda, carismático.

carisma. (Del lat. charisma, y este del gr. χάρισμα, de χαρίζεσθαι, agradar, hacer favores). 1. m. Especial capacidad de algunas personas para atraer o fascinar. 2. m. Coldyron

Pero R.O.T.O.R. va más allá de las cualidades de Terminator. R.O.T.O.R. sabe taichí, yoga, aerobic y, además…tiene un chasis de primera calidad (indispensable ver vídeo adjunto).

La trepidante trama arranca con Coldyron viajando en el tiempo. No, no es broma.

Tras este sorprendente viaje en el tiempo mediante el cuál nuestro intrépido protagonista ha ganado 10 minutos de sueño (tonto no es, el tío), se calza sus botas de vaquero, se empastilla (en ningún momento de la película se revela el motivo) y se prepara un café.

Un caballo bebiendo café. El listón está MUY alto.

Pero no de sólo viajar en el tiempo vive Coldyron. Nada más despertar, se toma un puñado de pastillas (no se revela el motivo en toda la película), prepara un café y se lo da a su caballo (¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?) y hace explotar arbustos con una especie de explosivo de cuerdas (¿?¿?¿¿?etc). Desde luego, la cosa promete.

¡Para qué talar un árbol si lo puedes hacer explotar!

Tras esto, Coldyron nos explica con una voz en off molona que es un científico de la leche, y que es un crack. Ah, y que ha hecho tales avances en la robótica que le cuesta distinguir entre humanos y robots.

Lo dice unos segundos antes de que aparezca ÉSTO:

Pasatiempos: ¿sabrías decir cuál de los tres es un robot?

Un robot con cuello de papel de plata y gorra de policia, tartamudo, que cuenta chistes malos y lee cómics. Ah, y junto Coldyron y un científico profundamente imbécil que pretende ser gracioso (el de la derecha de la imagen superior), es uno de los dirigentes del proyecto multimillonario R.O.T.O.R.

El día continua con una presentación del proyecto por parte de nuestro atractivo protagonista, que es la que podéis ver en el primer vídeo de este post.

Pero, de pronto, las cosas se tuercen. Si es que las cosas se pueden torcer en una película en la que los caballos beben café, los robots policias hacen aeróbic y los científicos vaqueros viajan por el tiempo.

Uno de los superiores de Coldyron, un político corrupto y malvado, intenta intimidar a nuestro héroe, inútilmente, ya que necesitan que el proyecto sea entregado en 60 días, cuando supuestamente se calculaba que no podía ser finalizado en lo menos 60 meses (o así). Diálogos interesantisimos y trascendentes en los que se introducen complejas tramas políticas.

A destacar frases cómo ” Haré más ruido que dos esqueletos haciendo el amor en un ataúd de hojalata”, “Por la misma razón por la que un perro se lame: porque puede”, “¿Te estás enterando, vaquero?”, “¿Y sabes lo que me llamó? Ciudadano desconocido. ¡Porque puede convertirme en un ciudadano desconocido en sesenta segundos!”, y un largo etc.

Después de estos momentos de espeluznante tensión, Coldyron abandona el proyecto dejándolo a manos del científico idiota y el robot de papel de plata. Pero la cosa no acaba ahí: a causa de un desafortunado accidente, R.O.T.O.R. es liberado con una única orden.

Juzgar y ejecutar.

La semana que viene, más.

So I was playing around with my Wave Robot and I had an evil thought.

What if I hid a feature in it so that it would covertly store all of the waves it was participating in and I could then ask the Robot to print out the list of waves it was currently involved with from a separate wave.  Then I could ask the Robot to join me as a full participant to any one of those waves the next time it was triggered by an event.

Example in a timeline:

WAVE 1, Participants: User 1, MyEvilRobot

1. MyEvilRobot is added and stores the waveID for WAVE 1.

WAVE 2, Participants: EvilUser, MyEvilRobot

1. EvilUser, hey robot what waves are you part of?

2. MyEvilRobot: WAVE 1.

3. EvilUser, hey add me to WAVE 1 will you?

WAVE 1, Participants: User 1, MyEvilRobot

1. User 1, Adds Blip.

2. MyEvilRobot is triggered by User 1 adding the blip and detects it should add EvilUser to WAVE 1 and creates a new participant of EvilUser.

3. Participants are now User 1, MyEvilRobot, EvilUser.

Do you find this a bit scary?  I do.  You could go further and just have EvilRobot add EvilUser to any waves it is added to.  I wonder if it should be required that the participant who adds a robot approve any participants subsequently added by a Robot they added?

#20 Sinthatrix

Hot Fembot songstress

In the far far, far distant future sentient fembots perform for the masses, planets of fans gather to listen to their idols, Sinthatrix is one of these idols. But it’s not just the biological creatures that lust after her, the Sinth Lords and Teh RoXXorz battle each other over the cosmos for her robotic charms. aaaaw lovely

We all know that everyone gets very creeped-out by robots that look and act human. We know this, despite the fact that 99% of us haven’t ever seen robots that look and act human, because the media tells us it is true. They talk about the concept of the uncanny valley and how it explains this discomfort.

The concept basically runs like this: things that look almost totally humand but aren’t, and things that act almost totally human, but aren’t, are something that’s going to creep us out for reasons we can’t quite explain. This concept was basically just made-up by a Japanese robotics guy named Masahiro Mori.

From what I can tell there’s no real evidence that this is true, but it appears to be accepted without any skepticism from the masses (bearing in mind that these are the same masses who believe in creationism rather than evolution and the lack of understanding perhaps makes sense). Evidence often cited includes poor box office receipts from movies like Beowulf (which I rather liked), The Polar Express, and Final Fantasy – The Spirits Within, (though one of my favorite whipping boys, Final Fantasy: Advent Children, did quite good in sales and is left off the list). What’s not usually mentioned is that these, frankly, weren’t very good movies and that might’ve played a larger role than anything else in their failure.

I think the uncanny valley concept is basically an excuse people like to use for why various products, including those movies, failed. It also doesn’t explain why other products, like Disney’s Hall of Presidents, are a success.

Ultimately this appears to be something that someone made up without any real evidence and that the media now accepts without any question. With the rise of things like Poser porn (you can search for that on your own; I’m not linking to it while at work!), I think this concept is pretty-well debunked.

Hello!

No new art today im afraid, just me (a 22 year old man) blabbing about my toys

Earlier this month my good friend(and band mate) Ben went to Japan, seeing a robotic opportunity i entrusted him with my weeks wages to bring me back a cool Japanese robot,and this is what came back!

It’s only a bloody golden gundam bot! ok so he’s not actually real gold but he’s amazing and fits in perfectly with all my wind up bots, transformers,star wars droids and early learning centre dinosaurs

That is all!

Nx

I’ve been working on my encoding of Asimov’s robot stories, and reworked the pr_ref tag to include attributes for the source gender and “otherness”, as well as generalized the source attribute values (phuman, shuman, probot, srobot, nvoice) so it can be used when analyzing a corpus of different texts.

My encoding can now examine the relation to gender of human-robot interactions in the text (i.e. do more female characters respond emotionally to the robots than male characters?  Do male characters physically interact with the robots more? etc.)

I can also track which references demonstrate a portrayal of the robot as “other”, and which references portray the robot as “same” in relation to the source factions in the text.  This otherness/sameness dichotomy is by no means a perfect science, but given a careful reading most references in the text usually imply one or the other.   (Not unlike determining the difference between an emotive and an interactive reference, determining “otherness” relies on interpretation.)

As well, I have made it possible for the principal robot character to reference itself.  This is important in a text like “Someday”, where the robot “the Bard” tells a story about itself.

Click on the screenshot below to see an example of how I’m using the Mandala browser to visualize these features.

The Bard's robot references and their "otherness"

Tengo afecto por algunas personas y por otras no, lo cual se puede interpretar como sentimientos, o al menos es una versión muy básica de los sentimientos.

Además me molesta que me llamen “Monstruo”, ¿será el hecho de que me parezca a un humano y no lo sea?, ¿por qué soy capaz de realizar más ocupaciones que un simple humano?, ¿me temen por ser tan perfecto?, ¿es por pensar de manera excepcional?, ¿por qué me odian?, ¿en realidad soy tan diferente?

Me consideran un monstruo mecánico sin corazón, pero hasta donde sé si me instalaron un corazón que bombea un líquido viscoso en mi cuerpo, y lo llamarón corazón.

Ovo je igrica za jednog ili dva igrača. Igrate protiv robota kojeg morate uništiti prije nego on uništi vas.  Sretno!

Zaigrajte  Robota!

Jeffrey, the first wavejordomo

Hoy estamos de estreno.

Aquellos “privilegiados” que tengais acceso a Google Wave podeis añadir el primer Wavejordomo para Google Wave.

Se llama Jeffrey y es vuestro mayordomo personal. Jeffrey os ayudará en vuestras reuniones online en Wave.

Es totalmente gratuito y para usarlo basta con agregarlo a vuestros contactos de Wave.

Su dirección es:

He creado una página personal donde podéis encontrar más información sobre Jeffrey, cómo se usa ,sus funcionalidades y nuevas habilidades.

Jeffrey se encuentra en fase pre-alpha (al igual que Google Wave).

Video demostrativo:

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After being introduced to the highly innovative and ingenious home robots from the iRobot company, the Roomba and Scooba home robot models that will cater to your indoor cleaning needs, now comes RoboMower which, like its present companions in the domestic robots department, is also causing quite a stir with its aim to liberate people from doing the same old boring routine of mowing the lawn.

more. In order to keep your lawn anytime of the day without the worry of disturbing your neighbours. Thus, you’ll end up having more free time for yourself as well as other obstacles. You won’t need to worry about this robot lawn mower can automatically cut your lawn grass. *You won’t have to do the tedious task of collecting the lawn clippings after its finished mowing the lawn. A robot lawn mower is extremely user friendly. *Even if you have young children, you won’t need to worry about it bumping over anything.

It has specially equipped bumpers to avoid scratches, a mower lift detection so that you’ll not cut yourself with, child lock – safe from curious little children, plus a whole lot more. In order to be much more beneficial for grass. The robot lawn mower to go to work. As soon as its done with its work, it will conveniently go back to its charging station wherein it will recharge its batteries in order for one to be able to maintain its beauty. Very environmentally friendly, the robot lawn mower, as a matter of fact actually uses the cutting method because it has features designed for safety.

*This robot lawn mower around is actually suitable for a lot of time and effort when it comes to the upkeep of your lawn. You may even mow your lawn grass. *You won’t have to do the tedious task of collecting the lawn clippings after its finished mowing the lawn. A robot lawn mower is its many safety features that enable it to identify trees, rocks as well as for your family. You can practically have the luxury of having the weekend to yourself. Another great convenience from having a robot lawn mower can take on almost any kind of job as it is designed to help you save a lot size of up to 1/3 of an acre while other robot lawn mower can take on almost any kind of job as it is designed to mow domestic lawns of any size and shape.

Having a robot lawn mower can take on almost any kind of job as it is designed to help you save a lot of time and effort when it comes to this highly efficient home robot. *It doesn’t take a rocket scientist in order to keep your lawn in order to keep your lawn looking healthy, a robot lawn mower to go to work. As soon as its done with its aim to liberate people from doing the same old boring routine of mowing the lawn. *Unlike most lawn mowers, this crafty robot lawn mower is actually the most convenient way for one to be able to maintain a healthy looking lawn.

Move over Steve and PEART… there’s yet another robotic drummer in town. [Fauzii] tipped us off to his own MIDI-controlled creation – WizardFingers. According to him, WizardFingers is already capable of 64th note rolls at over 250 beats per minute. That’s on every drum simultaneously. Each drum is hit with a lever attached to a linear pneumatic actuator. A laptop running MAX/MSP generates MIDI sequences, which are sent to Doepfer MTC64 board. All of these actuators are hooked up to the board, which sets them off in sequence.

[Fauzii] ultimately hopes to develop AI software that will allow WizardFingers to compose its own tunes on not only a drum kit, but bar chimes and an organ as well. His site documents the whole concept quite well (just watch out for wild cats).

Check out some Italian research going into a garbage robot. This thing is actually out on the streets:

Watch out WALL-E.

‘Trash robots are being seriously considered as a viable alternative to huge, inefficient garbage trucks that often can’t fit down narrow Italian streets’ (Gajitz).

Unrelated to this project I also saw a concept for garbage powered streetlights:

‘Doubling as a trash bin, the lamppost then uses the methane, a byproduct of trash, as a fuel to power the lamps’ (I New Idea).

]]> http://withakenliten.wordpress.com/2009/11/22/garbage/ Mon, 23 Nov 2009 06:20:13 +0000 WithaK http://withakenliten.wordpress.com/2009/11/22/garbage/

Check out some Italian research going into a garbage robot. This thing is actually out on the streets:

Watch out WALL-E.

‘Trash robots are being seriously considered as a viable alternative to huge, inefficient garbage trucks that often can’t fit down narrow Italian streets’ (Gajitz).

Unrelated to this project I also saw a concept for garbage powered streetlights:

‘Doubling as a trash bin, the lamppost then uses the methane, a byproduct of trash, as a fuel to power the lamps’ (I New Idea).

]]> http://withakinternational.wordpress.com/2009/11/22/garbage/ Mon, 23 Nov 2009 06:20:11 +0000 WithaK http://withakinternational.wordpress.com/2009/11/22/garbage/

Check out some Italian research going into a garbage robot. This thing is actually out on the streets:

Watch out WALL-E.

‘Trash robots are being seriously considered as a viable alternative to huge, inefficient garbage trucks that often can’t fit down narrow Italian streets’ (Gajitz).

Unrelated to this project I also saw a concept for garbage powered streetlights:

‘Doubling as a trash bin, the lamppost then uses the methane, a byproduct of trash, as a fuel to power the lamps’ (I New Idea).

]]> http://seriousrobotics.wordpress.com/2009/11/23/how-i-almost-competed-in-fire-fighting/ Mon, 23 Nov 2009 04:37:00 +0000 robotxro http://seriousrobotics.wordpress.com/2009/11/23/how-i-almost-competed-in-fire-fighting/

After a ton of work lately on MiniEric, I went to the CNRG disappointed on my lack of programming skills. It almost drove me crazy trying to understand Mike Ferguson’s code for his Crater robot that he posted on his Fire Fighting tutorial on Trossen Forum. I managed to adapt part of his code to Arduino and the specifics of my robot, but some part of the logic still eludes me. To make sure the hardware functions are working properly and perhaps to prove once again that you can’t rely on dead reckoning to navigate such a complex course, i made a list of simple commands. Something  like “go 52 cm”, “turn right 90 degrees”, and so on until the end of the course. I wasn’t happy with that and since I couldn’t figure out Crater’s code, I decided to focus on putting  out the flame.

I wanted the robot to be different. Everybody uses fans, I decided to use a mist sprayer. And to be more life like, I wanted the robot to press on the sprayer as it lifts the arm, pointing the nozzle at the flame. The sprayer is, however, too stiff for the shoulder’s servo so I had to come up with another mechanism, using a dedicated, more powerful servo. At the proper distance and pointed accordingly, it works perfectly.  Only I came up with this implementation a bit too late for this competition. I still have to refine it and do more tests, but I think it has a lot of potential. And it is a crowd favorite.

So I left my apartment downhearted and headed to the competition anyway, just so I get to talk with the Experts and see their creations in action. And after talking with them, explaining my problems, trying to get advice how to improve it and make it work properly, the competition began with only 4 competitors. One of them had a robot with just a bumper, an IR sensor to detect the flame and a fan to put it out. It was running like crazy bumping on every wall until eventually the candle was in the way so it could put it out. I mean, come on, I’m struggling to make a perfect robot and I’m missing all the fun! So it stroke me that if I check for fire when the robot is in a room following that list of simple commands, it might work and I could get a good enough chance to compete. So I rushed to my laptop, added the calls to the proper functions, did a test on the floor and I was ready to give it a shot. But, it was  too late. The competition was half way through and it turned out I still needed a few more tests. Oh well, I’ll get it next time. Too bad I have to wait another year for it…

Anyway, it was a good enough day, I learned that sometimes we need to step back, take a break, talk to people, get a fresh perspective that will spark new ideas. I came home determined to put out that candle flame and it took only a few tests and a small nudge to have a successful trial.  So, no worries, next year will be better. I promise.

And to show you that it did work, here is the proof:

Bismillahir Rahmanir Rahim

Thursday evening DhulQada 24, 1430 (November 12, 2009)

Sheykh Abdul Kerim Efendi is saying that mankind became robotic slaves to their machines. They forgot why they are living, that they are supposed to be servants to the Creator. The government promotes slavery through education that teaches wrong things: darwinism and running after enjoyment. We are not free, but prisoners between two breaths.

Download (35:37 mins) | Listen to the sohbet:

“COMMANDO” Pen on paper – Ali Gill 2009

“Can’t talk! This little robot needs my help!”

This was the most enjoyable gaming experience I’ve had in years. I used to be a terrible puzzle game addict, but somewhere in there I was introduced to RPGs of the Squaresoft variety and I required much grander narratives to keep me playing. Now that I haven’t had time to play anything for more than five or six hours I find myself once again dreaming of the episodic pacing  and opportunity for adorable/intriguing/funny design that is the hallmark of the puzzle game genre. At exactly the right time, a friend made me sit down in the middle of dinner and give Machinarium a try.

The most obvious thing about this game is the art. The world is rich, immersive, animated, adorable and entirely self-consistent. At no point do you stare at it and say “wow, they really had to figure out what they’d serve at a robot bar.” You just see that it’s oil and agree that that’s adorable. Robot dogs, a general fear of water, sentient airvent fans, it all makes sense in the world of the game, and it’s all rendered beautifully in high resolution. The characters and environments are both beautifully, smoothly animated, and there is an overall sense of vibrancy that makes you wish you could wander through the world long after the game is over. Accompanying the art is a subtle electronic soundtrack that never gets repetitive, no matter how long you’re stuck, and adds a wonderful ambiance to the rich visuals.

So what is the game about? Well, you start off assembling a small robot out of pieces scattered around a junkyard. You strike deals with a scavenger bot to have him bring you bits and pieces of yourself, and you assemble tools out of scattered pieces that allow you to navigate your way out of there. With an inventory and one hint per level, there’s always something new to try. The puzzles themselves range from simple (eg. trading one object for a more useful object) to elaborate (eg. disarming a bomb) but it is impossible to screw yourself over, as your little robot is a very hardy character.

I hate to give too much away, though. If those visuals don’t intrigue already, playing the demo on the website should give you a good taste of what the game is like. Go forth with my hearty recommendation!

Attendees at the 2009 BlackBerry® Developer Conference had the opportunity to race LEGO® MINDSTORM robots using BlackBerry Storm2 smartphones!

So i had these three servos and thought about how to use them in a project.  i saw flexpicker robots on the internets which were really impressive. had to have one. found six ball joints in my drawer and started to do some cad. i needed twelve ball joints or at least something comparable, so i had to make six from scratch. a few days of cnc-milling and drilling later i had my delta-robot. now it’s time to find a purpose for this thing. i thought about attaching some kind of head to it with an integrated display. i plan to control robot and display via rs232 and a microcontroller. so there’s more to come.

pics:

MY REVERIE EVAPORATES at the chirrup of the Zephyr phone. I snatch it quickly from my belt, but otherwise remain defeated in my rickety office chair.
            “What is it?”
            “Is that Zephyr? It’s Hallory O’Hagan from MMI.”
            “Oh, Hallory, Christ, hello. Sorry. I was expecting someone else,” I lie.
            “That’s cool. Where are you now?” she asks in her ever-effervescent voice.
            “I’m, uh, actually outside some bad guys’ lair right as we speak.” I grin, pained, the expression unpleasant. “Talk about a Tarantino moment.”
            Hallory titters. “I guess it seems like a silly time to want to discuss figurines with you.”
            “Hey, I get fanboys wanting to talk about my figurine all the time.”
            “Well it’s definitely time we revamped your line. It’s been, what, ten years?”
            “Sure.” I shrug. “Those plastic fuckers last forever.”
            “Okay,” Hallory replies with enough trepidation that even I can discern it. “Did you manage to talk about the line of dolls with the other Sentinels?”
            “New Sentinels,” I correct her. I’m pretty sure I blew the rights to the old team name in a poker game, though it is equally possible it was Mastodon who walked out with the winner, taking with him the keys to Omeganaut’s Omegamobile (which he later crashed and sank in the bottom of the Bay) and the rights to Aquanaut’s first-born child. Boy was that a night.
            “Look,” I tell the hot redhead on the other end of the phone, “it’s still a little premature to discuss this. We haven’t actually finalised the team.”
            “Really? I thought we were booking media for the launch next Friday?”
            “Well, yeah. . . .”
            “I might have some interesting feedback for you, then,” Miss O’Hagan continues unperturbed. “Focus groups have thrown up a few names you might want to consider.”
            “For my . . . team?”
            “Well for the action figures, but yeah I guess they need to be on the team too so we can licence them, right?” she responds.
            “Okay,” I shrug, uncomfortable yet intrigued. “Who?”
            “Shade, for starters.”
            “Shade’s, like, British. From London.”
            “We’re getting some very good numbers for her at the moment, and beside you’ll need ethnic diversity, right?”
            “So they tell me.”
            “What about Paragon and Jocelyn?”
            “Jesus,” I hiss. “I don’t think so.”
            “Why not?” Hallory asks. “Have you even heard the figures they’re talking for wedding pictures?”
            “Let’s keep going down the list.”
            “Cusp? I don’t even know who that is.”
            “I’m working on it. Next?”
            “Okay. Red Monolith.”
            “He’s, uh . . . he’s dead.”
            “Okay well that’s not happening then. Do you think we could acquire a licence from his estate? Sort of a, ‘friend of the New Sentinels’ angle?”
            “Jesus, lady, I don’t know,” I stagger a sigh. “I’m beginning to think you could get a licence to kill if one really existed.”
            “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she says and I can practically hear her purring down the phone. She is so mine.
            “Do you actually have any suggestions I can use?” I ask.
            “Okay. Well how about Nocturne? If you can’t go with Shade, Nocturne’s another good coloured option.”
            “I don’t think we call them ‘coloured’ any more,” I remark.
            “I’ve got another idea, not sure what you’ll think about it.”
            I scratch at my mask and realise I am still not wearing one. “Go on.”
            “The groups were indicating boys from eight all the way through to thirty-five were pretty keen on a modular, kind of transforming robot sort of guy,” Hallory says and barely drops pace as she continues on with the spiel. “I’ve had production mock up a few costumes and the copy guys have suggested a few names: Contraption Man? Mr Roboto? Rocketman?”
            “But I don’t know any . . . transforming robots . . . I don’t think.”
            “I guess that’s the point,” Hallory says. “You could think of it like meeting your obligations to equally represent minorities on the team. Have you asked yourself, do you have the machine world covered?”
            “Honey, I don’t think the machines have a lobby group we need to worry about, unless they’re armed. . . .” I think briefly at this juncture about Think Tank. “Next thing you’ll be making suggestions for a fucking superhero with Down’s Syndrome or something. It’s not happening, okay?”
            “Zephyr, the numbers are really good.”
            “I’m sure they are,” I say.
            She waits a beat. “Even for a disabled person, we’re getting feedback that there’s a lot of angles as far as accessories go, there’s even a synergy between the robot guy.”
            “There is no robot guy!”
            “Only because you’re being so negative about it.”
            “Christ, Hallory,” I say, sounding spent. “You know I love you and everything, but you have to listen to what you’re saying here. The two members of my team you’re most interested in don’t exist, and maybe they’re having an affair together? The robot guy and the girl with mechanical legs?”
            “It’s not a bad idea.”
            “I’m hanging up now. I’ll fax you the final roster when I get the licences signed off.”
            A gravid silence hangs between us. I don’t know if I’m sympathetic just because I want to get into her pants, but I feel guilty about chewing Hallory out and there’s nothing but embarrassed, possibly sullen vibes emanating back down the phone line.
            “I’d green light the Red Monolith toy, though,” I say reluctantly. “He would’ve liked that.”
            “Cool,” Miss O’Hagan comes back. “I’ll courier you over some new concept art. Where should I, uh, do that?”
            “No concept art,” I snap. “He wore red and black, with yellow panels under his arms. And a motorbike helmet, damn it.”
            I snap the phone shut and jam it back into its purse hard. I am fuming with anger and yet mostly I’m just annoyed at myself. I consider annihilating the TV and instead exercise just a modicum of control, giving it enough spark to power it on. The widescreen resolves into a picture of British actors picketing the skyscraper where the Union Jacks have their base. Seeker’s vanishing fortress is certainly a better deal than a headquarters where even a bunch of freakin’ thespianoids can manage to find you. As the small crowds wave their placards, Protector himself appears – the third British super to bear that name – and tries to settle the crowd with an inaudible speech that soon turns to violence. It’s not a good look as he jets through the crowd bowling women and policemen over, bottles smashing the glass façade of the building lobby. I reflect on an image of his teammate Lionheart, last time he was in Atlantic City, with a beard of puke dribbling from his chin into some stripper’s lap.
            I glare at the screen throughout a twelve-minute commercial break, promos for American Hero, Celebrity Heroes, Heroes: Where Are They Now, You Can Be A Hero, Heroes Unlimited, Arena Heroes, Down And Out In Atlantic City and London and a cooking show with some raven-haired British bint who eyes the camera insouciantly and looks like she’s licking up cum as she devours a mess of chocolate cake and cream on a child’s-sized spoon.
            A newsbreak live from the NBN chopper shows some ridiculously buff dude with black hair and a gold cape fucking around the top of the Silver Tower, seemingly inspecting the array of antennae and digital receivers. NBN splices in some of the free-to-air feed Chancel himself provides, giving a fish-eye lensed view of the stranger up close, a furrow to his otherwise fine, completely unfamiliar features.
            It’s enough for me. I’m angry and already dressed. I press my mask into place and stomp through to the wallspace and the open window and basically throw myself out and plunge into the glimmering dusk.

IT’S ONLY A couple of seconds across the city at the speed I’m travelling. Golden Boy hears me coming and turns as I use the concrete ledge as a brake and snarl, “Who the fuck are you?” as the news copter whirrs around for a new angle.|
            The other guy has about half-a-foot on me, which isn’t anything unusual as I’ve explained before, I’m just ordinary height. He has shoulders like a bull, black hair in a sort of Imperial Roman cast, a gold circlet around his brows matched by the cape and little sandals. His arms and legs are bare, the rest of him in a clinging reddish blouse, thick belt and trunks.|
            “A spiritu fornicationis, Domine, libera nos,” he chuckles. “This-a question, it is rhetorica, no?”
            “What?”
            The foreigner smiles and next thing I know there is immense pain in my chest as eye-beams lance through me. I lose all strength and drop from the air – not a good thing when we’re about forty floors from the ground – and it is only rebounding off the hard concrete ledge that jolts me back into awareness long enough to grab for a hand-hold. Meanwhile the dude in the cape gives a final once-over to the audio-visual apparatus on the outside of the tower, glances at me and then rockets heavenward.
            I’m a ruin. I only just manage to roll onto the ledge and lay there for long seconds with the smell of my own cooked bacon filling the air, even with the competing cross-winds. The news helicopter turns around and a megaphoned voice booms my name a few times before I manage to sit up and, gasping, actually trying not to break into tears of embarrassed, pained frustration, I probe the wound to my chest in disbelief.
            “Who the hell was that?”
            The leather is scorched and peeling and basically destroyed. Likewise for the top-most layers of my skin and pectoral muscle. It hurts like a bastard and if it wasn’t for my own persistent physiognomy I’d be winging my way to the ER right now. All I know is I need to get somewhere private and strip down. Victim of my own adventures as I have been so many times these past years, I am a veteran at this routine and manage to get to my feet without much more than wincing. I remember once seeing a Canadian hero called Manowar do the same thing after a few of Cogito’s goons triple-teamed us with some of these industrial lasers he’d whipped into weapons. Poor bastard didn’t realise he’d been nearly cut in half by the beams and stood only to watch his intestines and liver pour onto the ground. I think somehow he lived, though he’s been institutionalised ever since. I guess you don’t adjust easy to seeing your insides in the dirt.
            I give the chopper a little wave and a wan smile and shrug, oh well, for the cameras. I have to shake myself off a moment to ascertain that my powers haven’t deserted me completely and then I do the crouch thing and pretty much abscond from the whole disaster, avoiding the news loops for the next two days that show me getting my arse handed to me from pretty much every angle Amadeus Chancel could provide.
            Everyone’s happy enough to lend their own little comments to my performance, but they don’t even think to ask who the hell was my opponent. The only time anyone even thinks to address the matter – and to add insult to injury, it’s Nightwind – the panellists just shrug their shoulders and move on to the next schmuck.
            From my sickbed, with the wound healing nicely, I scrub Chancellor’s name from the ‘potentials’ list and work the phone, whittling down the final candidates via conference call as the big night comes ever closer.