#and like i did data science courses in my masters and still can’t count

[saepiae]

im like actually numbers stupid, i was doing logic puzzles yesterday and the amount of times i messed up not cause my logic was wrong, but because i counted to 3 incorrectly was embarrassing

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 3.5

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Three - If not for the courage of the fearless crew – Part 5 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4

Author: Gumnut

4 - 11 Jan 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 3231

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D

Took me a while with work getting in the way and a stubborn muse that just wouldn’t behave, but here is the next bit. I hope you enjoy it.

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

 “So, you spoke to a whale today?”

Gordon elbowed the surfer in the ribs. “Sam!”

“Hey, it’s the elephant on the island, I just want to acknowledge it.”

A sigh and Virgil held up his hand. “It’s okay, what did you want to know?”

“How did you do it? Many have tried before and none succeeded.”

Quiet. “I don’t know.”

There was a silence after that, Sam staring at him.

“Then how?”

“I’m sorry, Sam, I honestly don’t know. It just happened.”

“Do you think you could do it again?”

Virgil stared at him. “I-“

“Sam! Leave it.” Gordon’s voice was cutting.

The surfer frowned and held up his hands defensively. “Sorry.”

Virgil reached out a hand and placed it on Gordon’s shoulder. His fish brother was still glaring at the surfer. “It’s fine. But I’m sorry, Sam, I don’t have the answers right now.”

Sam held his gaze for the next few moments. Quiet. “You felt it, didn’t you? You weren’t in the water, but you felt it. The connection.”

Sam’s eyes weren’t the same colour as Gordon’s, closer to John’s or Scott’s being a pale green-blue, but they sparked with as much vivacity and energy as his fish brother on his inspired days.

Virgil frowned. “What do you mean?”

“That dolphin, the one who saved me? There was a moment where I thought that this was it, I was going to drown, there was nothing but the blue of the sea left and I was almost welcoming the end, I was that exhausted. But then she was there, she was lifting me, nudging me towards the sun. I felt her skin under my fingers. She spoke to me in high pitched barks. And her eyes. Those eyes pierced me to my soul.” The surfer swallowed and looked away a moment. Liam reached over and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, rubbing gently. “He or she...she was there and she was communicating in a way I could not understand, but communicating nonetheless and for a moment, I connected. I knew what she wanted me to do and I made that extra effort.” Another pause and Sam looked down at his hands. “She carried my exhausted ass into shore as far as she could go. I managed to get my feet under me and she disappeared into the waves. I never saw her again.” Sam straightened and caught Virgil’s eyes. “But for that moment, I understood. She communicated on my level and gave me a gift I will be trying to repay for the rest of my life.” Those eyes held him. “It was the same for you wasn’t it. They got inside you, reached in and tied knots in your soul.”

There was a stunned silence after that. Virgil was still held by the passion in the man’s eyes, but what he said rang so true, it bounced off the back of his skull and down his throat into his heart.

“I save people.” The words fell out of his mouth, dry and parched. “It’s what I do.” He swallowed as Sam continued to stare at him with that expectant gaze. His mind was a turbulent mess, thoughts churning with emotion and images and sound.

Notes cascaded through the back of his mind, pain-filled cries that could only be answered from inside.

His fingers twitched with a sudden need for his keyboard as if to answer the man through his fingers.

A smaller hand wrapped around those fingers and he startled, turning his head to find Gordon’s familiar russet eyes frowning at him in concern. His brother’s hand felt ever so small in his, but its warmth buzzed with energy. “Virgil?”

Clearing his throat, Virgil straightened in his seat. “Yeah, I felt it. A...a connection.”

“You understand? You get it?” Sam’s eyes were wide and once again he was almost bouncing. Liam still had his arm around his husband and appeared to be literally holding him in his seat.

“I get it.”

His brother’s fingers tightened around his.

-o-o-o-

Gordon stared at his artistic brother and saw the struggle behind the man’s eyes. Something was freaking him out. Had been ever since the rescue. It was somewhat alarming to see his usually unflappable and calm brother so suddenly at a loss as to what to do with himself.

“Virgil, you don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

Gordon knew for a fact that there were several aspects of the rescue he had no wish to share with anyone. The emotion in those gorgeous eyes, the pain, the pleading, the touch of soft skin beneath his fingertips. He kept those moments close to his heart, deep inside, cherished and safe.

Virgil...was his artistic brother. He saw things differently...this was the only way Gordon could explain it. He couldn’t understand it, but then understanding wasn’t needed, only acceptance. Virgil saw things in a way that enabled him to transform his interpretations into art and music. Today, he had somehow transformed emotion into sound, and it had cost...something.

Virgil frowned, looking down at a random spot in the middle of the table before straightening again and facing Sam head on. “What do you know about humpback whale communication?”

Sam’s face split into a grin. “A lot. I know a lot. I have access to all the studies done with the Kermadec whales and all the literature from elsewhere.”

Gordon’s mind quite easily supplied a few sources Sam didn’t have access to, but John or Eos could get their grotty little paws into. He might have to have a chat with Johnny over the next couple of days.

“I would be very interested in learning more.” Virgil’s fingers were twitching again. Gordon frowned down at them. It wasn’t random, more like a beat.

Sam’s grin grew wide enough to take in half the island. “That’s great. I would love to help you with that.”

Gordon’s eyes bounced back and forth between his brother and his friend. He’d known Sam for years. They had met during WASP training, but Sam had washed out when both the erratic wannabe surfer and his superiors agreed that WASP was not a good career choice. Gordon had lost contact for a short period of time and then encountered him again as an undergraduate working alongside WASP in undersea agriculture. Gordon had picked up his degree with WASP, but then was lured into marine biology even further by the blooming cetacean biologist. Gordon’s specialities were much broader, and tended towards marine ecosystems as a whole. Sam, of course, focussed on cetaceans and the larger creatures of the deep. By the time Gordon relocated to Tracy Island, Sam was following the great ocean behemoths all over the planet.

It was just convenient that those behemoths passed through the Kermadecs on a regular basis, because once Sam met Liam, he chose to specialise in those particular whales and relocated to Raoul. He still disappeared every now and again, chasing a migration here or there, but his base was Raoul and Gordon loved having not only Mel nearby, but Sam for a neighbour as well.

This was the first time any of his brothers had met the man. Last time the Raoul resident volcano had thrown a fit, Sam and Liam had been off site, a fact that had been a relief to Gordon, but consequently, Virgil hadn’t met him...and Gordon had been too busy ribbing Virgil about Mel.

A glance in the direction of where he had last seen Scott found the chairs empty and neither his big brother or Mel anywhere to be seen.

Hmmm...

But then he realised that both John and Alan were missing as well, along with Elspeth.

The impromptu party was empty except for himself, Virgil, Sam and Liam. Where the hell had everyone gone?

-o-o-o-

Alan was enjoying a rare moment with his space brother.

It had started with a polite conversation with Elspeth about their individual interests. Elspeth was somewhat a rarity in that she was a fully ground-based astronomer. Apparently, her body couldn’t tolerate either zero-g or strong g-forces, so she couldn’t go into space.

Of course, she still had access to orbital and interplanetary telescopes, so she could get the specific data she was looking for, but to be confined to the planet...? Alan found the concept horrifying.

To not be able to experience the rush of launch, the relief of zero-g and to see that blue marble...it wasn’t for him and to be honest, he dreaded the day he could no longer launch his ‘bird into the sky.

John was polite, but Alan could see his big brother had a similar reaction. Neither of them liked to think that one day, space might be denied them. It didn’t help that neither of them had been up in the last fortnight. Alan knew John was missing Five and Eos and while Alan himself was based on Tracy Island, his love of space was no less a passion.

He missed it.

So as the night wore on and Elspeth eventually excused herself, Scott disappeared with Mel, and since the deep conversation Virgil and Gordon were involved in reeked of exclusivity, Alan suggested to his brother that they do a little stargazing.

He was quite happy when John agreed.

This boat trip had given them more time together in one rush than they’d had in months, possibly years. Sure a good part of that had involved a violent competition of skill as he fought his brother to become master of the universe, but it had been good nonetheless.

They didn’t go far, mindful of the restrictions placed on visitors to the island, but behind one of the buildings, between it and the sea, they found a dark spot filled with stars.

The grass was long and it cushioned his body as he lay back. Orion and the Southern Cross hung in the sky. His mind automatically calculated exactly where each of the major satellites sat in their orbits and where John’s beloved Five hovered far above them.

“How’s Eos?”

John sighed. “I have her on a project.” His brother was hidden in the shadows, but his voice was clear and confident in the dark. “She’s listening to whale song.”

Alan frowned. “Why?”

“I assume you saw Virgil’s reaction to today’s rescue?”

“Well, yeah, he’s been weird ever since.”

Another sigh from his big brother. “I just thought Eos might be able to shed some light on what happened.”

“Why Eos? What would she know about whales?”

“Alan, don’t underestimate her.”

“I wasn’t. I just don’t see how she could help.”

“She’s a sentient artificial intelligence. The humpback whale is another intelligence. Both are different from our own. This is an opportunity to see if she might interpret things differently and be able to translate what we, so far, have been unable to.”

“Oh, okay.” He still wasn’t entirely clear on how Eos could see anything different, but if John thought she might, there had to be a chance. John was the resident genius around here, after all. “You think it will help Virgil?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” His brother’s shadow shrugged and lay down in the grass. “It is so quiet here.”

“Uh huh.”

And they sat for a while and just stared up into the cosmos and counting shooting stars.

“What did you want for Christmas, Alan?”

His brother’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “Wha-?”

“It’s Christmas day after next.”

“Well, yeah.”

“I was just wondering if you had any last minute additions to your Christmas wish list.”

“John, I haven’t had a Christmas wish list since I discovered you guys were Santa Claus and wouldn’t give me a rocket ship for Christmas.”

His brother snorted. “You had plenty of rocket ships for Christmas.”

“A real one.”

“You fly a real one, Alan. You got your wish eventually.”

Okay, so that was true, but honestly discovering Scott and Virgil stashing presents under the Christmas tree at 2am had been a traumatic experience for a nine year old.

“Yeah, well, what more could I ask for? I’ve got everything possible.”

His brother fell silent and Alan regretted it immediately, the not-possible list included things that his older brothers wanted more than anything to give him. To give themselves.

“I mean, I’ve got you guys. We’re billionaires. We do great stuff. Really, we’ve got pretty much everything.” How could he say this? “Like, don’t get me wrong, I love the stuff you guys give me, it’s just, there are more important things, you know?”

“I know.” John’s voice was quiet.

They fell silent again.

“So you don’t want that portrait of you Virgil has finally finished?”

“He finished it?!”

John snorted. “Maybe.”

“Is it good?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Well, there was last time.”

“You asked for that.”

“I did not!”

“Even I could see from space you were being a right prod.”

“I was a little enthusiastic, that’s all.”

“You were being an idiot.”

“He painted a Salvador Dali of my head!”

“Do you even know who Salvador Dali is?”

“No, but Scott was very descriptive!”

Another snort. “Does Scott know who Salvador Dali is?”

Alan pulled out his phone and lit up the dark as he pulled up a net search. The images associated with the name were weird, but strangely interesting. “I see the resemblance.”

“You should check out Van Gogh, then.”

“What? Why? Isn’t he the guy with the missing ear?”

How did he know John was rolling his eyes when he couldn’t see them?

“Just look him up.” There was that annoying tolerant tone his older brothers often used on him.

“Fine.” So he did. “Really?” His brother had painted his last portrait attempt...before Max destroyed it - the fallout from that had been massive - in a very similar style to the ear guy. “Why?”

“You would have to ask Virgil that question.”

Alan stared at several of Van Gogh’s self-portraits and their swirly paint marks. It was nothing like the style Virgil had used to paint the whales. Had his brother been mocking him again?

Ah, who knows.

But John had indicated that Virgil might have finished his latest painting...

Another shooting star tore across the sky.

“So what do you what for Christmas?” Fair’s fair that he ask his brother the same question in return.

John sighed. “To be honest, I think I’ve already got it.”

“What?”

“Time.”

“Huh?”

“Grandma was right. We needed time.”

“You wanted to be grounded for Christmas?”

“No. But this has been good.”

“Being stuck on a boat together?”

Quiet. “Yeah. I know it hasn’t been your thing-“

“Hey, I love you guys. It’s you who can’t seem to stay with us any length of time.”

Oh, um, he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Alan?”

“Well, you are always going back up to Five early. We hardly ever see you anymore. I know the gravity thing sucks, but I miss you.”

“You can always visit me.”

“I do, but the rest of the guys can’t always do that.”

“Because we are always busy. Grandma saw that and that’s why she grounded us.”

“You didn’t go willingly.”

“No.”

“Yet now you agree with her.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty.”

The silence fell again along with two more meteors. Alan briefly wondered if the object Elspeth had been tracking through the solar system was increasing the Earth’s meteoroid collection at the moment. It would be an interesting topic of discussion in the morning if it was. “Eos on meteor watch?”

“As always and yes, there has been a small increase, but she reports nothing of concern.”

It was always convenient to have an eye in the sky for such random questions.

Conversation fell into a lull at that point, both brothers happy to just stare up into the sky. Alan was at the point of almost nodding off, when they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on grass.

“Hey, guys, watcha doin’?”

Gordon.

“What does it look like?” Was it wrong to feel interrupted and a little possessive of his time with John?

“Ooh, excuse me. Virgil and I will just go our merry way elsewhere then.”

“Hey!” Yes, John, ever considerate of his brothers then proceeded to invite them to their patch of grass. Apparently, Sam and Liam had called it a night and their two brothers had consequently come looking for their missing brothers.

Gordon parked his butt right next to Alan as Virgil lowered himself with a sigh on the other side of John. His spacebro muttered some concern at the convalescent which was replied with the mandatory ‘I’m fine!’ God, the guy needed a t-shirt with those words printed on it. One that glowed in the dark for all occasions.

“So, you guys talking balls of burning gas?”

“Beware, Gordon knows how to manage gas.” It was dry and came from the Virgil shaped shadow now stretched out on the grass.

“God, yeah, tell me about it. I was trapped with him on Three for a month once, remember? This is why you don’t see me in Four unless I’m drowning.” He loved Gordon, but that month had been...um.

“Are you saying I stink?”

“Yeah! Do you have any idea what all that canned cheese does to your digestive system?”

-o-o-o-

John had to smile. The silence of the stars was shattered with the addition of extra brothers. The distant and giant balls of gas still shone down on him, but his soundscape was no longer lacking.

“Where’s Scott?” Virgil’s voice was quiet on his right.

“Disappeared with Ms Fisher about an hour ago. I think we may be looking at number thirty-three.”

“Thirty-five.”

“Fine, count the goose, but I don’t know where you are getting the other missing number from.”

“You don’t need to know.”

“Virgil?”

A snort. “Don’t worry about it. This is Scott we’re talking about. He has his own stress relief methods.”

“Which reminds me, you owe me fifty bucks.”

“Nah, you cheated.”

“Cheated?”

“You stole his phone.”

“On orders from Grandma.”

“Yeah, well, that accelerated the issue to your advantage. I’m calling foul.”

“Sore loser.”

“Cheater.”

“Such a harsh word.”

“Wear it.”

“Double or nothing on tomorrow morning’s contented smile?”

“Are you kidding? No contest. More a bet on how often he visits Raoul or how soon Ms Fisher gets invited to Tracy Island.”

He frowned. “Why would Scott invite her home? He’s never invited a date home before.”

“The fact we don’t find that unusual is disturbing in itself.” Virgil’s words were little more than a grumble. “Never before has an ‘interest’ been so close to home and so well known.”

“Okay, one hundred dollars says he doesn’t invite her over in the next month.”

“Deal.” Virgil’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Another fifty says Gordo freaks out.”

John snorted. “Sure. Your loss.”

Another shooting star shot across the sky as the argument about gas and cheese beside them shot into beans and brie territory and the possibility that Gordon may be lactose intolerant.

This was followed by the concept that Alan may be Gordon intolerant.

John smiled and, as he heard a laugh from his right, he concluded that yes, despite the day’s challenges and Virgil’s illness, this trip had been a great present and he was a bit sad that tomorrow would see an end to it.

-o-o-o-

End Day Three

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

War of Attrition: Chapter 13

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Reader Summary: Best friends with Steve Rogers, renowned Howling Commando, and married to one James Buchanan Barnes, your life wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as it could possibly be in the middle of World War II. Then you fell from a train in the Alps, and everything changed. You spent nearly 70 years as a tool of Hydra alongside your beloved, though your past with him was more often than not forgotten. You and Bucky set your plan in motion. It’s time to track down IS-003 and put an end to this chapter of your life. However, per usual, things don’t go as planned. Warnings: Swearing (always), mentions of torture and death Word Count: ~3,929 A/N: Sorry, Diablo 3 has stolen my soul. I swear I’m not neglecting my blog on purpose. 

Masterlist // Book One // Book Two

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

It worked, more or less. Bucky’s lip quirked up at the corner, though his smile was more of a grimace. “We’re not gonna stay there though, are we?” he asked knowingly.

You shook your head slowly. You hadn’t wanted to talk about this just yet, but he knew you too well for your own good. “Only for a few days. I’m… we’re not done yet,” you said, nodding your head towards the file that Bucky had carefully stowed on the dash.

Bucky’s gaze turned hard. Determined. There was absolutely zero hesitation when he looked expectantly at you. God, you did not deserve this man. “What’s the plan, Doll?”

The plan, as it turned out, was to retrieve the last of the tech you’d left in Indiana, but only after you’d given the Batmobile flight capabilities. Coulson’s little corvette, Lola, had reminded you almost violently of Howard, though you’d put a lid on those thoughts before you had a breakdown in the middle of your little auto shop.

After that, it was to wipe Hydra off the face of the Earth.

The nano mask you gave Bucky hid his features flawlessly (too well as far as you were concerned. You missed his face the moment he put it on). Austin was elated to find out you had a boyfriend (explaining a readily absent boyfriend was much easier than explaining a readily absent husband). Austin was surprised you were leaving for good after a week, but he didn’t dwell too long on it, which you appreciated. Bucky got twitchy when people started asking too many questions.

Bucky was taking full advantage of the nano skin you’d made for him. He only wore short sleeved shirts and tanks the entire week, not that you could blame him.

When Austin went home for the day and you were alone in the safety of your shop you removed his nano skin and kissed every inch of the scarred skin near the edge of the metal limb. 

It was these quiet, peaceful moments that you cherished.

“We could just hide,” you said quietly one day while you were under the Batmobile and half-covered in grease.

Bucky, who was sitting in the chair next to the car, shifted almost silently. “Whaddya mean?” he asked after a moment, though you were sure he knew what you were talking about.

“Steve. And Natalia. And their friend Sam. They’re all looking for us,” you said quietly.

“And so’s the entire world government,” Bucky said quietly.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you fiddled with a capacitor. “Yeah, and the world government is run by a bunch of inept politicians who’ll never find us. We both know Natalia and Steve would find us way before them.”

Bucky grunted and you could almost see the grim half-smile on his face when he spoke. “They’re more stubborn than the rest of ‘em combined.”

“Can’t ever imagine where they got that from,” you muttered dryly.

Bucky huffed dismissively. “Natalia’s at least half your fault and Steve was born stubborn. I ain’t got nothin’ to do with that.”

You sighed and rolled out from under the Batmobile, satisfied with your upgrades. You accepted Bucky’s hand without thinking, a “thank you” slipping from your lips without even consciously thinking about it. How easy it was to slip back into living with this man.

“Fine, I take credit for half of Natalia’s stubbornness... so long as I get full credit for her ingenuity,” you said with a hint of playfulness as you hopped into the Batmobile.

“Denied,” Bucky said through the open window.

You frowned but nodded after a second, considering. “Yeah, I s’pose you were the one to teach her how to make a flamethrower seventy-six different ways, huh?” You said, pushing the button for hover-flight capabilities.

“Seventy-nine, thank you very much,” Bucky said, smile working its way onto his face as the car shuddered then shot two feet up into the air and stayed there, humming gently. “Alfred, you finish decrypting the data we salvaged from Reinhardt’s lab yet?” he asked the air.

“Decryption protocols at 97% completion, Master Barnes. I recommend you and the Mistress finish packing immediately if you wish to leave the moment it is concluded.

“Got it, Alfred. Thank you,” Bucky said easily. It had amused you how easily Bucky had taken to the AI. It was adorable how much Bucky loved all the futuristic tech you’d shown him. He’d always liked [questionable quality] sci-fi pulp novels. While Steve had brought books like the Machinery of War, Heroes of the Western Front, and other military-themed books, Bucky had brought all sorts of science and sci-fi books. When you heard about their visit to the Stark Expo back in ‘41 you’d laughed (back when laughter was much easier to come by, even on the European front). You’d been there that day, helping Stark out (he’d bribed you with shiny schematics and a fat wad of greenbacks that would buy you the raw materials you’d been eyeing enviously for months). You and Bucky had been mere feet away from each other and hadn’t even known it.

“How’s integration with the flight systems, Alfred?” you asked, smiling at Bucky’s retreating back as he went into the apertment. The first few days you hadn’t left each other’s sides, but he’d lately taken to leaving you for brief periods, almost as if he was seeing if he could. There was always a brief flash of relief on his face when he returned and you were there, waiting. You’d curse yourself forever for leaving that doubt in his mind, but you hadn’t figured time travel out (yet), so there was no changing it. You’d have to prove his trust well-placed each and every day from now on.

“Perfectly, Mistress Barnes. Although the decryption has taken some of my computing power, I’m still uploading efficiently into the programming. Transition should be complete by the time decryption is finished.”

You smiled and turned the flight function off, watching out the window as the tires righted themselves and the car dropped back to the ground gracefully.

“You’re wonderful, Alfred. Did I ever tell you that?” you asked the AI with a proud smile.

“At least twice a day, Mistress Barnes,” Alfred said. He sounded fondly amused.

“I’m going to go help Bucky finish packing. Let us know when decryption and integration are done, alright?” you said as you slipped out of the car and gave the hood a loving pat.

“Of course, Mistress Barnes. You will be notified upon completion of both programs.”

You nodded in satisfaction and left the garage to go back into the repair shop through the back door. You immediately went up the stairs to the apartment part of the building, not too surprised to hear the gentle movement of items and clothing coming from the direction of your room.

You turned the corner and watched Bucky work silently, admiring his broad shoulders and lithe, graceful movements.

“See something you like?” he asked after a moment, not pausing in his endeavor of folding up all the clothes you’d accrued in your time in Indiana.

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘p’ playfully.

That earned a short laugh from Bucky, breathy and exasperated, but it was music to your ears.

“You got alotta clothes,” Bucky said, shaking a flouncy white top in his hand to prove his point.

You shrugged. “Got used to living in one spot for a while. Things tend to gather when you aren’t constantly on the move,” you said, glancing at the single backpack he brought with him, placed on top of one of your duffels.

“Is that what you meant earlier? Hiding in plain sight? Living as other people? Not contacting Natalia or Steve ever?” he asked quietly, hands stilling.

You sagged against the door frame and a deep frown creased your brow and pulled your lips down into a grimace. “They’re doing good now, Buck. Even Natalia. She got out. Saved the fucking world. She has friends now, or at least as close as she’ll ever let herself get to having ‘em. Steve... Steve doesn’t need us muckin’ up his life. He’d fight the whole damn earth if he had to, just to save us. We might need him, but the world needs him more, Buck, even if they don’t know it yet. I won’t make him choose between helpin’ us and defendin’ the world.”

Bucky’s shoulders sagged. He turned his head to smile sadly at you from over his shoulder. “I hate it when you’re right, you know that?” he asked quietly. “I was hopin’ you’d try to convince me to go see ‘em. So I had an excuse to put the lot of us in danger... but being stubbornly reckless was always Steve’s thing, wasn’t it?”

You walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. He leaned back into you and you placed a kiss firmly between his shoulder blades. “Not so sure, Buck. We had alotta stupid to go around.”

He smiled ruefully and turned in your arms so he could gather you up in his own big, muscular limbs. “S’pose you’re right. Again. Peggy really was the only one with her head screwed on right, huh?”

You smiled and refused to let yourself cry as you thought about Peggy and the guys. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“I hate to interrupt, but the decryption and integration programs are complete, Mistress and Master Barnes,” Alfred said quietly from the communication device in your ear.

You nodded and placed a kiss to Bucky’s cheek. He caught your lips in a brief kiss before he released you and finished folding the last few shirts into the bag.

“Where we headed, Alfred?” you asked as you picked up the full bags and began walking to the garage. Your mobile lab was already packed into the space in the hood. The bags would be shoved in the back seats for lack of anywhere else to put them. The Batmobile wasn’t exactly built for travel, but you’d make do.

“Sokovia, Mistress Barnes,” Alfred informed you as you walked into the garage. “It is a country in-”

You waved his explanation away. “I know about it. I read about it more than once in Reinhardt’s physical files. You’re sure that’s where he took IS-003?” you asked as you shoved the heavy bags into the back seat. One was full of Bucky’s weapons. Why that man needed fifty guns when you could build one that could do everything else the others did but better was beyond you.

“It is the most likely location, though not the only possibility. According to the information I’ve gathered from Reinhardt-Whitehall’s data banks, there is an active Hydra base near its capital, Novi Grad. It is under the command of one of the last heads of Hydra, Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker.”

“Still active, you say?” you asked as you slipped onto the hood, waiting for Bucky to bring down the last of the bags.

“That is correct. After the death of Reinhardt-Whitehall, activity increased greatly. It is unclear exactly what prompted the sudden increase in activity. I would recommend moving cautiously until their goals have been discerned.”

“Noted. Thanks, Alfy. Make sure the boat’s ready to go, alright? I want to get there as soon as possible.”

“Or course, Mistress Barnes,” Alfred said diligently.

Bucky slipped in a second later, somehow still graceful even while carrying two large, heavy, bulky bags. If you weren’t enjoying the show so much you might have been perturbed at how elegantly he managed to move at all times.

“That all of it?” you asked as he hefted the bags into the back.

At his nod you pulled him into your arms and stood on your toes to plant a loving, long kiss to his lips. “Let’s get goin’ then, yeah? We have some truly evil bastards to put in the ground.”

He smiled and pecked you once more on the lips. “Now you’re talkin’ my language, Sugar,” he said, voice so low and syrup-sweet that your knees felt all wobbly... and you didn’t even have human knees anymore.

You smiled and kissed him once more, but didn’t let yourself linger. “If you don’t get in the car this instant we’ll be here for another four hours.”

“Four hours?” he asked playfully, waggling his eyebrows at you. “Someone has faith in my stamina. I’m almost a hundred years old, y’know. Give a guy a break,” he said winking playfully at you.

You stared flatly at him. “Your record is eight hours and we only stopped because I was so tired I was passing out from exhaustion.”

Bucky’s grin turned lecherous. “I was a younger man then. I can’t be ex-”

You brought your hand up and slapped it over his mouth. “That was two days ago, Buck.”

His eyes actually twinkled with amusement in the dim light of the shop. It was a look you saw so rarely on his face you couldn’t help but enjoy it. You took your hand from his mouth and brought your lips to his in a slow kiss that left your mind blissfully blank of everything except how wonderful it felt to have Bucky up against you.

“Get in the car, Mister Barnes,” you said after you moved away, a small smile of your own dancing on your lips.

His response was to slip into the driver’s side before you got the chance.

You mock-glared at him before you went to the passenger side and got in. “If you crash the Batmobile you won’t see under my clothes for a month,” you threatened as he turned the car on.

Bucky turned to look at you as the garage door rolled up, smirk dancing on his lips. “We both know that’s not true, Doll,” he said with such conviction that you glared at him in earnest.

“No, it’s not, but I’ll definitely be cross with you for a long time,” you admitted.

“I will ensure Master Barnes does not crash the Batmobile, Mistress Barnes,” Alfred assured you.

“Argh, two against one. Your faith in me is inspiring,” Bucky said dryly as he pulled out of the garage and onto the street.

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s just hurry and get to the coast, yeah? We have a long trip ahead of us.”

Bucky turned to look at you with a stare that had you panicking for a split second. “Whatever you say, Doll,” he said evenly, giving you only the briefest second to ponder your poor decision before he slammed the gas pedal down and sent the Batmobile rocketing forward.

Novi Grad, Sokovia. Europe - 2015

Sokovia was beautiful, if a little poor and very unstable. You and Bucky slipped seamlessly into the population. The people hated SHIELD and the Avengers, especially Steve and Tony Stark. The SHIELD here, though, was Hydra. They slipped in during the rebellions a short time ago.

The Hydra base wasn’t exactly hidden, even if it was a little distance from the city. You could see it up on the hill from nearly every point in town. The problem was that it was heavily fortified. The tech they were using was advanced. Far more advanced than any other Hydra base you’d seen up until now. Even your drones couldn’t pierce the shield they had protecting the main building. There were enough turrets inside and along the perimeter to level the city. You had no idea how to attack it without getting blasted to bits before you got anywhere near the perimeter. The rest of their weapons were advanced enough that you wouldn’t chance the Batmobile’s shielding against their big guns. 

“You’re doing the thing again,” Bucky said quietly from the doorway.

You slowly tore your gaze from the schematics of the base, blinking a few times before you processed what he’d said. “What?” you asked eloquently.

Bucky huffed out a laugh and walked over to your spot on the floor, carefully stepping over schematics (though he walked straight through the hologram of the base) and sat down next to you. He pulled you into his lap and you went willingly, squirming a bit until you were comfortable. You tucked your head under his chin and stared at the schematics, mind already going back under. “You’re doing the thing where you try to stare your problems into submission. Have to say, with the exception of Morita, that’s never really worked so well for you,” he said playfully, wrapping his big arms around your waist as he stared over your head at the blueprints and plans.

You sighed and leaned back against him. “According to the civilians I talked to today, ‘SHIELD’ took volunteers from the population to run tests on. They’re being collected by this man, Doctor Henri List. He offers them power in exchange for their cooperation. Most of the people he takes are victims of the riots in one way or another. Wanna know the kicker?” you asked Bucky grimly.

Bucky squeezed you gently. “I have a feeling you’ll tell me anyway, not that I can’t guess.”

You sighed. “Hydra started the riots. They caused the unrest. They changed their public faces a few times, set each faction against the other.”

“So they’ve set the people at odds with their government.”

“And other large global powers, such as the U.S. and the U.N. Not to mention each other.”

Bucky let out a long breath. “So we don’t know who or what exactly could be inside waiting for us,” he surmised.

You nodded and flicked through the images on the hologram. “It’s hard to get readings on the inside of the base while the energy barrier’s up, but the outside defenses are fairly straight forward, if hard to work around. The more I look at it... the more I think we won’t be able to get inside with brute force.”

Bucky tensed slightly, just like you knew he would. “You’re not going in there. Not undercover. If they find you-”

“I know, Buck,” you said, cutting across that train of thought. “I know.” And you did. You knew what would happen if they found out who you were. “But the longer we stay here, the longer that horror factory stays up and running... Primary mission is still to retrieve IS-003 or any information we can find on it, but we can’t just leave them to their own devices. The tech they’re churning out... I haven’t seen anything this advanced since Zola and Schmidt...”

Bucky shifted nervously beneath you. “Do you think it’s the Tesseract? I thought Thor Odinson took it back with him after the Battle of Manhattan,” Bucky said, frowning as he shifted through his mind for the right memories.

You shrugged helplessly. “I can’t be sure. If it’s not the Tesseract itself then it’s something with similar properties. I’ve only been able to analyze a few small samples, but none of them match any models from earth up until now. It’s a combination of Chitauri and something else.” You sighed and relaxed back into his arms, absolving yourself of that particular problem for just a moment. “How did surveillance go?”

You felt him shrug his shoulders ever so slightly. “Nothin’ new. I’ve been keepin’ track of shipments in and out like you asked, but it’s hard to get close without being noticed. I’m good, but they have some seriously sophisticated scanning equipment.”

“That sounds about right...” you said quietly, staring despondently down at the files. You chewed on your lip as you deliberated. “I could... I could call in SHIELD. The real SHIELD,” you said finally, almost regretting the words as you said them.

Bucky tensed beneath you, arms nearly crushing you to his chest. “We ain’t doin’ that,” he said quietly, face buried in your hair. “I don’t trust ‘em.”

You smiled sadly and ghosted your fingers gently over his right hand. “I know, Buck. I don’t trust most of ‘em, either. Gabe’s grandkid is one of ‘em though, y’know. They can’t all be bad,” you said quietly.

“All it takes is one. One word whispered in the right ear by one person who isn’t loyal to Coulson or the new SHIELD and we’re right back to where we were a year ago. Brainwashed, in a cryo pod or out killing innocent people. We’re not trustin’ ‘em, (Y/N). ‘Sides, Coulson said himself he’d bring you in himself if he got the chance.”

“He didn’t try to take me in in Puerto Rico,” you said softly.

“Cause his entire team was beat to hell and you’d just saved Gabe’s grandkid.”

You groaned and ran a hand through your hair. “I just don’t know what to do, Bucky,” you admitted at last.

Bucky brushed your hair out of the way and placed a few tender kisses to your neck. “It’s okay, Doll. You don’t have to come up with all the answers. I’m here. We’re together now. And there’s not a single problem that can’t be solved with some good old fashioned Barnes ingenuity.”

You turned to look at him, faint smile playing on your lips. “Where did this optimism come from?”

Bucky shrugged. “I think it’s less optimism and more an awareness of the lengths you’d go through to get revenge. Hell hath no fury like a woman spurned and all that. And we both know the many, many methods I have for taking down a Hydra base and all the inhabitants. I spend a lot of time fantasizing about it.”

You smirked at him. “Should I be insulted you spend more time thinking about killing people than you do about your lovely wife?”

Bucky raised a single eyebrow. “Who said that? Sweetheart, I didn’t leave the house often because I spent most of my time thinking about ya. It’s hard to get anything done with a stiffy, y’know?”

You stared at him for a moment before breaking into genuine laughter. “Oh my god, Bucky.”

Bucky frowned and got up from his seat in front of the computer and made his way over to you. The tiny apartment you’d rented out while you were in Sokovia meant the two of you were never more then a short walk away and you could hear each other from any part of the house.

“Hey, Doll?” Bucky asked from the doorway, looking at the tablet in confusion.

“What’s up, Sweetheart?” you asked, tearing your gaze from yet another simulation.

“I’m getting some chatter...” he said, frowning down at the pad.

“Whaddya mean?” you asked, still distracted by the numbers running across your screens.

“(Y/N),” Bucky said quietly. Something in his voice made you truly look at him and you froze at the look on his face. “They’re here,” he said softly.

You swallowed thickly. “Who?” you asked, though you were pretty sure you already knew.

Bucky turned the tablet around so you could see the blurry images on the screen. You could see the audio feed that Bucky had muted while he talked to you. He pressed a button on the screen and suddenly voices were filling the cramped room.

“Shit!” said a voice you recognized from countless interviews and reports. Anthony Edward Stark.

“Language!” said a voice you’d know anywhere. Steve Rogers. You nearly laughed at that. It seemed that Steve’s knee-jerk response of rebuking your and Bucky’s foul language had survived the ice.

Bucky paused the audio log and brought up a different one. “At long last is lasting a little long, boys.” Natalia.

“They’re here, (Y/N). Attacking the base.”

Next Chapter

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[ask-de-writer]

GONE TO SEA : World of Sea : Science Fiction : Part 2

GONE TO SEA

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

WORK IN PROGRESS (Word count unknown at this time)

copyright 2018

Writing started 2005

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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“We brought equipment to mine on land or in space.  We can fabricate almost any device except for a tiny problem.  There’s no land to mine and the rest of the system is metal poor.  This world does have quite a lot of high quality ores.  Unfortunately they are under about fifty to over nine hundred meters of water.  We can’t get at them. Captain Alain inhaled heavily and added, “We can’t even get useful silica sand on this planet.  It’s in the same situation as the metal ores.  The common coral sand is useless for glass making.

“What we can do is process the local coral and coral sands into a form of concrete.  It is possible to get useful amounts of aluminum, magnesium and small amounts of titanium from the seawater.  We can go to the three moons for silicates to make glasses.  They even have small amounts of available iron and some other useful metals.  The silicates make structural glass a real possibility.  Fiberglass is also practical.  Many of the local seaweeds will process to yield various plastic resins for both the fiberglass and to mold directly into useful objects.

“In this environment, only the titanium and structural glass are durable. Corrosion will destroy the other metals in short order.  Concrete made from coral is subject to long term erosion by the water, not to mention the many animals and plants that will attack it.  Even the fiberglass will have a limited life due to long term water absorption.  Of course you can recycle the fiberglass materials.”

Now it was Mister Torres who spoke.  “You know about the nutritional deficiency issues of this world, um ... Sea?  Good name, by the way.”

Captain Alain accepted the compliment with a nod and replied, “Yes.  You will be short a pair of critical amino acids, a small raft of vitamins, and there’s a carbohydrate problem of some sort.”

It was Mister Torres who spread his hands now.  “You are right.  We brought the solutions to all of that along in the form of crop seeds and embryonic animals.  We did not expect to have no place to raise them.  Hydroponics could answer the plant problem, perhaps.  The animals are a different matter altogether.  They have to have a certain amount of space for proper development.”  He paused and looked thoughtfully at a painting of Mt Fuji, back on Earth, “Could we bypass the growth of the animals and do a carniculture system?  I ask because that is more an engineering problem.”

Captain Alain considered in his turn.  Mister Torres let him think.  A thousand lives hung in the balance.  At last, Captain Alain said, “It could be done.  It has been done before.  There is a nutrient limitation.  You have to be able to supply the culture tissues with the necessary amino acids.  The whole animal would manufacture its own from the crops fed to it.  The culture can’t do that.  I think that with the available resources, you are stuck with raising the animals whole.  I can ask.  We didn’t think of that solution.” He dictated a note for his ship's system engineers to look into it.

Suddenly Mister Torres exclaimed, “Those storms all follow the same pattern! That means that if we build a platform, we can design it to be strongest in a direction that will resist the storms best!  What sort of tidal variation are we dealing with?”

Captain Alain thought a moment and consulted his data.  His brows knit as he worked through the problem.  “When the sun and the moons line up unfavorably, the sea level can drop until the shallows become shoal-water.  At the other extreme, the water depth can go to twenty meters.  A storm depression coupled with a low tide can actually bare the upper parts of the coral.  That kills the coral and limits upward growth.”

Mister Torres shook his head.  “Between storms, coral should grow on the skeletons of the dead coral and cause island building.  Why doesn’t it?”

Captain Alain realized from the form of the question that Mister Torres was giving him credit for intelligence and was pleased.  He answered, “There’s a common fish with a hard beak.  It seems to think that the dead coral is a delicacy and mows the reef down as it grazes.  It chews up the stone to get the dead organisms.  That’s what makes the coral sand.”

Mister Torres nodded.  “Like the parrot fish back home.  Makes sense.  The same fish attacks our concrete too?”

Captain Alain just nodded.  Then he had a thought.  Excitedly he said, “We could put titanium mesh in the outer layers of the concrete.  That would keep the fish out of anything structural.  Once the platform was built, you could process more concrete on your own.  You could re-plaster the areas that the fish attack.”  

He subsided, “You’d have all your eggs in one basket, though.  The thing would have to be huge.  We can only marshal the resources to build one.”

“It’s not really that important,” said Mister Torres softly.  “There’s no possible way for us to survive until a ship can return with what we do need.  Still, we have to have the platform for morale reasons. My people need hope.  It’s all that we can really do for them.”

Captain Alain suggested, “We can request a recovery expedition as soon as we get back.  It is ESA policy to have a colony ship ready for just such an emergency.”

Mister Torres shook his head negatively.  “I fear that the war that was shaping up will be long over when you get back.  I pray that you will be able to survive your return.  I do not think that there is any possibility of our survival.”

Captain Alain looked compassionately at Mister Torres.  He shook his head. “You’re right.  The war will change everything back home.  We received messages from Earth before we got The drive up to threshold energy.  The shooting did start.  We were ordered to return but disobeyed.  I can only hope that some form of the ESA has survived.

“As for your platform, even with the Crossover Drive to push us faster than light, we can’t get back to you in time.  No platform that we can build will survive long enough.  It is going to get hit by at least five and probably more of those Coriolis Storms.  One of them will sweep it away.  Without its facilities, your people will die of malnutrition in fairly short order.”

Mister Torres looked back at Captain Alain and said bleakly, “I know that. What we are going to do is simple.  We will lie to your crew and my colonists alike.  We will fake evidence to show that the necessary nutrients can be found in the ecology.  We just can’t localize them well enough from space.  The search will keep hope in them to the last.”

Captain Alain closed his eyes in pain.  This was indeed difficult.  Why couldn’t Mister Torres be angry, rail at fate or just cry?  This calm acceptance, this cold blooded planning to deceive a thousand doomed people was beyond him.  He shook himself and said, “Very well, we will follow your lead.  Two of my crew will have to be in the conspiracy.  They are needed to create the false data.”

That simply, the decision was made.  With massive labor, a platform was built with all of the best systems, electronic controls and computerized communications.  It held laboratories, shops, apartments, docks for boats, recreational and farming spaces.  All critical exposed areas, like the upper levels of the farms, could be closed over with locking domes in bad weather.  On the platform, a space one kilometer by one and a half kilometers, several stories thick, a thousand people were left on a planet that could not support them.  Only one of their number actually knew what had been done.

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

[julish-17]

Text me, baby Supercorp-AU

part 1

part 2

part 3

Wine or champagne?

KD 3:14 pm: lecture today such long

LL 3:30 pm: You are right, Kara

LL 3:31 pm: time stretches so long

KD 3:33 pm: shit, Lena, take me away

LL 3:34 pm: how?

KD 3:34 pm: whatever you like

LL 3:35 pm: Oh no, Danvers. You will sit out all the lectures today.

KD 3:36 pm: Please?

KD 3:36 pm: What do you want me to do for salvation?

LL 3:37 pm: you will get another photo as a bonus, if you stop whining and will sit out all the lectures, and after may get more bonuses, if you’ll answer all the questions.

LL 3:38 pm: do you like it?

KD 3:41 pm: I definitely know I WON’T be able to serve the lectures if get pics

KD 3:42 pm: but I want photo and bonuses

KD 3:42 pm: and i want you took me away:(

LL 4:15 pm: are you sure that you want it?

LL 4:17 pm: you choose, Danvers

KD 4:16 pm: Yes, Luthor, I'm sure

LL 4:19 pm: address, Kara. And think of the reason for which I could steal you.

KD 4:19 pm: YAAAAS! LENA, YOU ARE THE BEST!

KD 4:19 pm: 42-Street, 13F. You will see a large white building, this is my University.

KD 4:19 pm: I have society right now. This is the third floor, the second audience to the right of the stairs

KD 4:19 pm: I'm waiting for you!

LL 4:20 pm: Audience Room. I do not want to make a mistake.

Lena smiled. God, what she is doing?

KD 4:20 pm: 17th

Kara sat on pins and needles. She couldn't wait to Lena takes her away.

LL 4:21 pm: what are you doing with me, Kara

LL 4:22 pm: I'll be there soon

Lena quickly withdrew from the library - she have no more lectures today, and project data she will send guys tomorrow. Brunette got the car keys. Have rich parents is a clear plus. Girl scored an address in navigator and pushed on the gas.

KD 4:31 pm: you're not here?

LL 4:32 pm: I need time, Kara, I'm almost at the other end of town. But I'll be there soon

KD 4:32 pm: you can’t text while driving, Lena!

KD 4:32 pm: It's just so long for me :(

LL 4:39 pm: I'm here.

LL 4:40 pm: Don't give yourself away when I'll come in the audience.

LL 4:40 pm: and be natural.

Lena sent the last SMS, put the phone in her pocket, closed buttons on her lab coat. It might work.

Kara waited patiently until Lena entered, barely restraining herself from simply getting off her feet and running to the exit from the audience.

Approaching the right audience, Luthor once again rehearsed the words she had invented in advance. Taking a deep breath, the girl opens the door. Tens of eyes look at her, it's worth her to go. "Sorry," Lena says to the professor. "I need Kara Danvers." "May I ask who you are?" the man calmly asks. He clearly doesn't care, but as a teacher he must ask this. "I'm from Luthor Corp." Lena tells the truth. " Kara Danvers is an important participant in one of our new projects." "Wow, Danvers, became guinea pig?" voices from somewhere have been heard. The audience comes to life. "Silence," says the man. "Oh, you are mistaken," Lena enters, "Miss Danvers is not a" guinea pig "as you put it. Her ability to act in emergency situations is very important for us. She is a valuable employee. If you don't mind, we'll go. Science doesn't wait. " The girl winks at Kara and nods at the door. Kara immediately start packing, throwing everything into the bag, after which, throwing the bag on her shoulder, the girl descends to the exit from the audience, making an incredible effort not to run. "Sorry, professor. Goodbye, " said Kara, coming up to Lena, and grabbing the brunette by the hand, she rushed to the exit. Coming out of the audience and moving a little distance from her, Kara stopped and wrapped Lena in her arms. "I can't believe you did this," the blonde smiled, hugging the girl by the neck.

"Well,Your powers of persuasion are uncanny.," Lena smiles, still holding Karu in her arms. "What now?"

" I don't know. I must somehow repay you .. How can I do this? "Kara slightly pulled away from the girl to look her in the eyes.

"Grab your stuff, and let's get drunk, Danvers," Lena answers with a little thought. "I already said that I love to solder minors? " Luthor arches an eyebrow in a proprietary manner.

Kara shook her head with a laugh, her white curls developed in the air. "Yes, Luthor. And more than once" the blonde said, releasing Lena from her arms and lifting her bag from the floor.

"Let’s go?"

Lena smiled back. Blonde, still in her glasses, looked awesome. "Sure," Kara's voice snatched the brunette out of her thoughts. "But the fact that you're truant with me doesn't mean that you don't expect a test. As soon as we arrive, prepare to respond my questions"

"Of course," Kara said, rolling her eyes. She overtook the girl and went to the exit.

"Catch up, loser. " The girl turned around and showed Lena a tongue.

"Kara! It's not fair!" cried Luthor and ran after her. "I'm terribly runner!"

"I don't know anything, miss perfection," Kara fled, bursting into laughter.

"God, you're fast," Luthor at the car tries to catch his breath. Kara was not even out of breath.

"How do you do this?"

" I have superpowers !" Kara shouted with a laugh. "Sit down," Lena opened the car door for Kara. "Now I'm taking you to the world of alcohol, Danvers." The girl smiled. "Although I'll bet, you've been there without me."

"Maybe ..." Kara fastened the seat belt, "but, I bet it'll be more interesting with you, Luthor." She leaned back in a car seat, looking at the graceful brunette that was driving.

"We arrived," Luthor said after a while. "Sit here while I buy us a drink." - The brunette got out of the car. "Wine or champagne?" the girl asked.

"Wine," Kara replied, starting to stare in her phone.

" Excellent" Lena smiles, taking out her passport from the glove box. "Want to go with me?"

"Yes, why not," Kara shrugged. The girl got out of the car and quickly ran to her door to open the door for Lena. "I beg you, miss," the blonde said, and held out her hand to the girl.

"Oh, thank you," Lena sincerely marvels and gets out of the car. " Let's go to?"

"Let's go to." Entering the store Kara went to the f sweets section and took a variety of jelly and chocolate.

"Barone Ricasoli Chianti," Lena says, coming to Kara from behind her. The blonde turns so quickly that the girl barely has time to take her hand and save the bottle. "Wow, accurate. What do you say? " Luthor demonstrates the bottle. "Oh, Kara, why you took so many sweets?"

"Don't you want sweets ..?" Kara asked, with a child's shocked voice, eyes wide at Lena. "And i don't know anything about alcohol, so everything is up to you."

" I'm not against sweet, but is not it too much? " The girl nods at the packaging in marmalade and marshmallow. I must admit, Lena has a secret sweet tooth, but she couldn't believe that Kara could eat all this. " I don't think that all this will fit in you. " smiles Luthor. "Two Trolli packages, a pack of Nerds," the girl begins to enumerate, "4 Cadbury Wispa and 3 tiles Milka. Are you sure you can master it?

"Well ... I was counting on you to help me ... would not you?" smiled Kara.

"Maybe ..." the brunette smiles mysteriously. "Perhaps I'll really still a couple of trolls." Lena go into the depths of the store, intending to take more wine. Once Kara gave her the choice of wine, Luthor was not going to disappoint her

" And the wine .. Not too much? Or do you really want to get me drunk?" - Kara said, portraying the shock and covering the open mouth handle. "What are you going to do with me, Luthor?"

"Well, one bottle will not be enough for us," the girl shrugs. "And I already said that I'm going to get you drunk."

"Okay," Kara went to the cashier to pay for the sweets.

"Should we order food? - Lena asks, when they leave the store, " You, of course, stocked up with sweets, but but it isn't enough."

"Yes good idea. Pizza, I think, will be good. No! " jumped Kara joyfully " better a potstickers!

"Well, I suppose we could take pizza and a potstickers. Apparently, you have a brutal appetite."

"You right, Luthor," Kara winked. Approaching the car Kara threw a bag of sweets in the back seat and held the door for Lena, so she sat down.

"Thank you," Lena said, confused. "I couldn't do it by myself." - Having put a paper bag with alcohol next to a package full of sweets, the girl started a car. "Well, ready?"

"I'm ready to go! " Kara shouted enthusiastically, raising her hands up.

[archivesofcreation]

SUMMONING THE DEMON - WORSHIPING ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE

The “Way of the Future” is the way of the past

“And I will declare my judgments against them, for all their evil in forsaking me. They have made offerings to other gods and worshiped the works of their own hands.” (Jer. 1:16) Thus spoke the Lord to Jeremiah concerning the cities of Judah who had rebelled against Him and had committed idolatries. It is human nature to worship idols, and in times past that often included literal idols. In the West, due mainly to Christian influence, the practice of worshipping physical idols has been largely abandoned for many centuries. But today, the Christian foundations of the West are crumbling away as more and more people forsake God (just as the Jews did in Jeremiah’s day). With this shift away from Christianity, we find another shift—back to the practice of worshiping the works of our own hands. This time, one of the forms this may take is the worship of artificial intelligence. Levandowski and others believe that if they worship the demon, the demon will be kind to them. Multi-millionaire Silicon Valley engineer Anthony Levandowski has made headlines in recent years by announcing a new official religion: the Way of the Future.1 It is Levandowski’s contention that the human race is currently building artificial-intelligence that is so powerful it will become like a god compared to humanity, and will eventually assume control over this planet. This is an event he calls The Transition.2 As he puts it, “It’s not a god in the sense that it makes lightning or causes hurricanes. But if there is something a billion times smarter than the smartest human, what else are you going to call it?”2

Levandowski envisions a world where we become subservient to our new AI master(s), but, he hopes, we will be treated nicely because the AI will fondly remember us as its/their benevolent (but frail) elders. If you think this sounds like the plot of more than one science-fiction movie, you would not be wrong! But Levandowski appears to be dead serious, having registered this new church with the IRS to receive tax-exempt status. Interestingly, the trappings of this new religion all appear to be ripped off from the Bible. For example, note the obviously Christian-sounding nature of this quote from Levandowski: “The church is how we spread the word, the gospel. If you believe, start a conversation with someone else and help them understand the same things.” 2 Scanning through the extremely rudimentary ‘church’ website that still exists at the moment, the Way of the Future cult has co-opted all the familiar superficial talking-points one might expect to hear from one of the New Atheists (i.e. Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, etc.): “We believe in science (the universe came into existence 13.7 billion years ago and if you can’t re-create/test something it doesn’t exist). There is no such thing as ’supernatural‘ powers.” This is nothing other than the philosophy of positivism and materialism, which embarrassingly fails its own test. Can you perform an experiment to determine if positivism is true? Note also the prominent mention of deep time here. “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.”

This talking-point is so often abused by atheists that I wrote an article specifically addressing it. What counts as ‘extraordinary’ depends upon what worldview you already have, making this circular and subjective. “We believe it may be important for machines to see who is friendly to their cause and who is not. We plan on doing so by keeping track of who has done what (and for how long) to help the peaceful and respectful transition.” This is almost too ridiculous to comment on, but the author(s) appear to be serious here. They think the machines apparently will have some sort of ethic or honour system whereby they will reward those humans (i.e. these cult members) who have helped them ascend to power the most. This is literally the same mindset shared by the henchmen of all the stereotypical villains in fantasy and sci-fi—“once I help take over the world, he’ll put me in charge of something good!” “We believe that intelligence is not rooted in biology. While biology has evolved one type of intelligence, there is nothing inherently specific about biology that causes intelligence. Eventually, we will be able to recreate it without using biology and its limitations. From there we will be able to scale it to beyond what we can do using (our) biological limits (such as computing frequency, slowness and accuracy of data copy and communication, etc).” What does it take to truly summon a demon? There are some out there that are actively working towards that goal. Of course, this is just their statement of faith, but what evidence could they possibly have for these claims? Other than God and angels (whom they deny), what example do we have of ‘intelligence not rooted in biology’? Ironically, I believe they are partially correct. Intelligence is not necessarily rooted in biology because it is spiritual! It is the fact that intelligent beings are spiritual beings that enables us to make free decisions in the first place. Consciousness is not an emergent property of matter—it is a function of the spirit. For this reason, I don’t believe it is realistic to assume that any form of machine or artificial intelligence will ever become truly self-aware. However, as Elon Musk said, with AI “we are summoning the demon. In all those stories where there’s the guy with the pentagram and the holy water, it’s like yeah he’s sure he can control the demon. Didn’t work out.”3 Just how literally and seriously did Musk intend these statements to be taken? Regardless, it would seem that Levandowski and others believe that if they worship the demon the demon will be kind to them. The real problem is not the development of AI technology itself (which could theoretically be put to good and moral uses), but the unbiblical ideas that consciousness is merely a function of matter, and that it would ever be appropriate to worship a machine. The Bible says that whenever humans worship idols of their own making, they are really worshiping demons: “ … what pagans sacrifice they offer to demons and not to God. I do not want you to be participants with demons.” 1 Corinthians 10:20 What does it take to truly summon a demon? There are some out there that are actively working towards that goal. We know from the Bible that demons are very real, and they really can inhabit bodies—even the bodies of animals (c.f. Matthew 8:28-34). But whether or not demons could literally inhabit a machine, the worship of anything other than God is truly demonic. This particular cult (Way of the Future) may not go anywhere—after all, their leader Levandowski has now been charged with theft of trade secrets in a court battle between Google and Uber, and his future status is uncertain.4 Clearly, though, the cultural stage has been set via the false doctrine of evolutionism and an uncritical absorption of the messaging in many sci-fi movies. Expect more AI-worship cults to follow. ORIGINAL ARTICLE by Creation.com Read the full article