Note: Tomadashi Week Prompt 3 - Opposites
Writer's block and busy life equals extremely late.
oooo
If you could only read my mind
You would know that I've been waiting, so long
Someone almost just like you
But with attitude I'm waiting, so come on
oooo
Robert Callaghan knew a good idea when he saw one. That was one of the reasons that he was given full reign as the head of the Advanced Applied Sciences and Technology program. Even when it was outside his normal field of expertise, his ability to find a good student that would ultimately become a hard worker and innovator was renowned to the point that other program heads often deferred to when his recommendations were submitted to the panel. He took the compliments in stride, and rarely if ever let it get to his head. His dedication was to improving the future, not padding his already impressive reputation.
It was one of the reasons he was able to walk the SFIT Showcase without a lot of interference. The hall was busy that year, but most people left him alone. Despite his position, most people didn't bother to curry favor or impress him anymore because there was simply only one way to do that: Present him with hard work and intelligence. There was definitely enough of that, though. Some of the projects rivalled last year's, and most of the presentations and booths were top notch.
Initially, his detractors denounced the SFIT Showcase as a gaudy circus. On its face, it sort of was – a giant warehouse half-filled with youngsters hocking their brilliant ideas in exchange for a free ride into one of the most prestigious schools in the country. The other half contained current and former students hocking their latest brainchildren to industrialists and investors like Alexander Krei, Rumiko Fujikawa and Arno Stark. While Callaghan abhorred the bottom feeders, they were a necessary evil. They pulled away those with more flexible morals and intentions, leaving those students and bright thinkers that cared only about the betterment of mankind.
Against all odds, though, were the stragglers. People that had managed to sneak in, submit half-baked or weird projects that would never have otherwise seen the light of day. These odd dark horses were rarely visited by Callaghan, usually relegated to the dark corners of the exhibit hall. And yet, that's where he found himself that auspicious evening, at a folding card table tucked in one of the back corners of the hall.
Sitting behind the table on milk crates was a pair of kids, roughly in their early twenties. He was tall, lanky with a shock of dyed blonde hair, dressed in a white and blue motorcycle jumpsuit. A white and yellow helmet sat on a crate nearby. He leaned forward on his knees, giving the world a disinterested, bored stare. The other was a cheerful looking girl with striking blue eyes, short black hair, lavender hoodie, and black jean shorts that rocked back and forth as she happily played on a handheld gaming device. Large headphones covered her ears.
There was something ostentatious despite the minimal nature of their display, which was a simple cardboard sign that pointed to a large metal headband sitting on a table that read 'BRAIN SCANNER by BRIAN STROM' in hastily scribbled sharpie. The alleged scanner also had a set of standard smart glasses attached. Notwithstanding the wires and the odd thickness, it looked for all intents and purposes like two kids had tied glasses and a strip of aluminum. In a hall filled with lights, holograms, multimedia, exhibits and full-scale manuals for beta-tested products, Callaghan was almost at a loss for words for what he was seeing in front of him.
"So, Mr. Strom, is it? What precisely is this supposed to be?"
A finger pointed at the sign. "Brain scanner," he said, amused, "the next big thing in human communications. I figured it would have been pretty obvious, but if you need an explanation…"
Callaghan nearly left right there but was ultimately stopped by the cheerful, rather tall girl that had managed to superimpose herself between him and the direction he was headed. He looked down, and realized that her additional height and speed had a lot to do with the rollerblades on her feet. "Hiya! Martika," she chirped, grabbing his hand and shaking it, "Sorry Brian's being such a pain in the butt, but he's not always the best at explaining things. In fact, he tends to overcomplicate things and has a completely condescending attitude, so he lost a bet and now I do all the talking."
Brain rolled his eyes as if to confirm the statement, and huffed.
Fingerless skater gloves snatched the device off of the table as Martika pushed the headphones off of her head so that they settled on her neck. The tinny sound of the latest pop abomination trickled out as she placed the 'brain scanner' on her head. "Brian's a genius – a total technological savant that's managed to merge human biology, biochemistry, psychology, oculesics, haptics, proxemics, and general kinesics, coupled with tone analysis, translation and a whole buncha other stuffs into an honest to goodness mind reading device!"
She smiled a big beaming grin at Callaghan, who looked about as impressed as one might expect a learned man of letters to respond to the outrageous claim that someone sitting on a milk crate had created a mind reading device. As if to accentuate this position, he folded his arms across his chest and looked irritated. As accepting of eccentricity as he was, this situation was a bit much. Still, stranger things had happened.
"Okay, yeah, I get it. You think I'm beyond eccentric and that it's a bit much, but hear me out here. This scanner will revolutionize how we interact on a profound scale. Once the barriers to interpersonal communication are removed, the sky's the limit!"
"What she said," drawled Brian, sitting back and looking supremely satisfied with his choice of assistants. "Trust me – everyone from the average joe on the street to high powered execs are gonna want one of these."
It was easy to dismiss the claims as total rubbish. Still, there was a sort of infectious enthusiasm from the grinning young lady in front of him. "I see, well. Do you mind if I try it for a bit, then?"
Martika glanced at her partner, who nodded. "Sure. Let me set it for a narrow band. It'll focus in on the two nearest targets in a 20 degree scan arc. I find a minimum of two helps you get a feel for what this thing is all about – observing social interaction between two people, completely stripped of pretext." She beamed. "Fascinating, isn't it! A world without limits! It makes my heart go pitter-pat!"
The young woman pressed a few buttons absently on the side of the smart glasses as she handed the sketchy looking contraption to the older gentleman. "There you go. Let me know if you have any problems figuring out how it works."
Brian rolled his eyes, emptying a bag of pop rocks into his mouth. Callaghan could hear the snapping sound of the candy even over the noise of the hall. Arrogant, condescending, unenthusiastic… Callaghan had no idea why he was even entertaining this, but stranger things had come out of the Showcase. After all, wasn't the whole point to give that long shot a chance to do something they wouldn't otherwise be able to do?
He slipped the device over his head, adjusting the smart glasses frames for comfort as he looked at the two. "And how, pray tell, do you resolve the moral and ethical implications of this device?"
"That's easy," Brian said, leaning back to give Professor Callaghan a lazy smirk. "I don't. There's no morality in science, only the user."
"An interesting position," Callaghan replied evenly. Technically true, but it was a subject he went around and around with on a daily basis. Martika's bright blue eyes were excited and expectant. Brian's were less so, an overconfident smirk on his features. "You mind if I just sort of walk the hall with these? Or do they require controlled conditions?"
"No! Please, walk Professor Callaghan," Brian said, waving his arm to the milling masses. "Just be advised that the scanner takes a minute or two to calibrate. That means you have to hold still and let the targeting matrix do its thing."
A bemused smile crossed the older man's face. "Of course it does."
And with that, he took a walk.
oo00oo
True to Brian's words, the device appeared to only track potential targets while moving, requiring an extended stillness to acquire them fully. The interface was utterly atrocious, clearly constructed to specifications of someone that had either trained to use the device or was intimately familiar with its operations. Data flew across one side of the heads-up display, while targeting reticules flashed everywhere. It was a Technicolor nightmare of data that flew in front of him.
He could pick out some information as he walked and became more familiar with what was put in front of him. Colors appeared to be associated with emotional states based on his observation of potential target's faces. Number seemed assigned to probabilities, either suggesting that there was a margin of error in the readout, or that there were potential targets that were more favorable than others.
As with any good scientist, however, Callaghan needed a control; someone that he knew well enough to determine the accuracy of the readouts. That meant the potential best targets would be fellow faculty and students.
That's not the first test subject he got, however.
Hovering into his view was Alexander Krei, who was standing by a display relating to crystalline energy production, which Callaghan identified as a perennial favorite for the crackpot crowd. This year it seemed a little more promising, but with Doctor Brown at the helm, it was unlikely he'd be garnering any funding from Krei. In Alexander's wake was his attractive short haired assistant. Her name escaped Callaghan, as it had each time they had met. Honestly, she seemed reserved, intelligent, polite and methodical, which made Callaghan wonder why the woman worked with the reckless entrepreneur. Callaghan refused to call him a scientist.
The contraption on his face immediately set to work, focusing as Callaghan slowed. Targeting boxes set on the industrialist and his assistant.
"This should be interesting," Callaghan muttered under his breath as he approached.
"Robert! So good to see you again. How are you doing? What's with the contraption?" Krei held out a hand. The professor heard the words, saw the practiced smile on Krei's face, and was provided with a short subtitle. [Hello, you old goat. How are you going to darken my day today? Are you wearing yet another genius thing from your students that you're going to rub in my face?]
The corner of the professor's lips twitched as he shook Krei's hand. Even if this invention was a half-baked phony, it was definitely an amusing one. "Just fine, Alexander. It's a showcase project I'm helping test. Finding everything to your liking this year?"
"Oh, of course," Krei responded, his easy smile almost infuriating. "Definitely a lot of prospects this year. You certainly have a problem a lot of people wish they did. What does your little toy there do?" [You miserable bastard. Did you get to all of them before I got here? Is that why nobody is talking to me except the whack jobs? Go ahead and rub it in. What amazing thing does that thing do? Cure cancer?]
Callaghan returned the smile. "Nothing that's of any importance," responded the professor. "And how about you? Finding any success out there for potential Kreitech recruits?" The question was directed at the assistant, who looked at the professor with mild confusion. The professor never directed questions to her in all the time she had known him.
"Ah, well. Mr. Krei definitely has exacting standards, so regardless of quality we have specific needs, sir." [We need to get rid of this indiscriminate, posturing blowhard and get someone that can actually innovate instead of scalping your leftovers, sir.]
Robert Callaghan was not a man known for his overt sense of humor. A dry wit, he rarely laughed preferring instead to give knowing smiles if anything. However, he was forced to mute a chuckle at the 'Brain Scanner' readouts. "I see. Well, you certainly have no shortage of people looking for your patronage," he said with a smile. "I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for. I'd love to stay and chat, but I have some students to meet."
"Of course. Don't let me keep you." [You self-righteous, sanctimonious dinosaur.]
"Have a pleasant day, sir," Krei's assistant added. [I know I won't.]
Callaghan kept walking, a smile on his face. Still, there was a doubt in the back of his mind about how fundamentally fair it was to know what your competition was thinking.
oo00oo
It wasn't unusual to see Wasabi and Fred together, insofar as Wasabi was the only one that really seemed to engage Fred in direct conversation just based off the sheer annoyance the other could cause. It was an interesting dynamic to say the least. Callaghan would normally have tossed a person like Fred out on his ear for being a non-student, but the lad had become somewhat of a mascot in his own right rather than just the school's. The fact was that many of the kids he taught were type A, socially odd characters who were wound just a bit too tightly. Having a goofball on the premises to lighten the mood… well, there was something to be said about class clowns.
Wasabi on the other hand was very much wound too tight. He had a lot of potential, but Callaghan would be damned if he didn't feel like hooking the kid up to an IV drip of beer just to take the edge off. It wasn't a crime to be meticulous, but at a certain point it was an impediment to progress. The professor wondered how many fantastic ideas were left unpursued, instead existing only as wadded up balls of paper at the bottom of a garbage can because of minor issues that Wasabi could have worked out in time.
It would therefore be somewhat interesting to see what these two had to think about. They were hanging out near the stage where a presentation was being held. Both of them were captivated by a tall, if not somewhat thin young lady was demonstrating the practical application of a ultra-light quick-seal gel compound that was waterproof, heat resistant, but dissolved when exposed to very weak acids like vinegar. The explosion of globs of stuff that quickly solidified on contact with air covered the stage as she espoused the benefits of her experiment.
"That girl's project is pretty amazing, Professor," Wasabi said as Callaghan stepped up behind them. [The idea of precision mess both terrifies and intrigues me.]
Callaghan nodded. "It most certainly is, gentleman. It remains to be seen how well it holds up to the rest of the competitors, though."
What they didn't know was that he generally reviewed all of the projects and approved most SFIT candidates sight unseen after having graduate students replicate the most intriguing prospects' experiments whenever possible. It was rare for him to provide an invitation based on the presentation alone. This one had been approved ages ago – he was primarily there to hand her the invite in person, which was one of his greatest joys as an educator.
"She seems like a shoo in compared to the last couple of guys. The amphibious life raft and the caffeine infuser were interesting, but pretty impractical," Wasabi said, turning fully to his teacher," Um, what's with the headgear, sir?" [Terrible projects. Too niche, with little universal application. Also, she seems a lot nicer. Also, what's with the headgear, sir?]
Callaghan absorbed the information. He rather agreed. Wasabi for all his faults had a very analytical mind covered with a heavy layer of tact. An interesting trait for a physicist to have. "Just testing something out for my own personal edification," was the response regarding the headgear. "And how about you, Mr. Lee? Any thoughts?"
"Yeah! You think she could turn that stuff into some kind of glue gun, like the Trapster, or Mucilage Man?" Fred's face spread into a wide, excited grin.
Callaghan blinked, awaiting the subtitle. Nothing came. "I have no idea what any of those are," came the honest response.
"You know. Guys that use their sticky powers for superpowered shenanigans? I mean, super-glue! Honest-to-goodness super-glue! That's gotta be… something!" [SYNTAX ERROR][…I like glue…(?)]
"…I see."
Fred nodded, self-assured as he placed his hands on his hips. "We can only hope that we've found someone that'll use her amazing science powers for good, y'know?" [How helpful is it to say that science is neutral in itself, and what makes it good or evil are political decisions? Yet not all scientific knowledge is morally neutral. Some, I think, is unequivocally morally good. Some things, however, are so evil in themselves that it's hard to imagine them serving any good end, such as bioweapons. This isn't bad science. It's wicked, or evil science. There isn't even any respectable military justification, since such a weapon must, by its nature, be mainly useful against a civilian population.]
As an educated man of letters, a combat veteran, and as a wit in general, Callaghan usually was not at a loss for words. This was one of those times. "I'm sure you're correct, Mr. Lee," came the diplomatic, confused response. Clearly the device had its limits.
Callaghan glanced at the young lady who was finishing up her presentation. He smiled, locating the girl's parents who were standing proudly on the sidelines, clapping. "Gentlemen," he said with a nod, "please excuse me."
"Of course, professor. Hope you find what you're looking for!" [She's totally going to win.]
"Okay, so, dude. Does Professor Callaghan give off a whole Magneto vibe to you, or is it just me?" [Powerful he has become, the dark side I sense in him.]
His brow furrowed with confusion, but Callaghan kept walking. It was time to have a serious conversation with Mr. Strom.
oo00oo
"Professor," the voice called, pulling Callaghan from his thoughts as he headed back towards Brian's table at the back of the showcase. That was quite enough mental voyeurism for one day. After having peered into the mind of both familiar and unfamiliar individuals, Callaghan had made the determination that it was probably for the best that people didn't know each other's inner thoughts. The real question was really what to do about Brian and his intent for the invention.
The professor turned to see Tadashi approaching. Thank goodness for small favors. The young man was probably the sanest of the bunch. Any more conflicting or bizarre internal thoughts and Callaghan was going to have a headache. "Yes, Mr. Hamada. Can I help you?"
"Sir, have you seen Gogo anywhere?" The machine on his head locked on, identifying Tadashi as a target and entering that lull between preliminary scan and processing. He had forgotten to turn the blasted thing off. "That's an interesting thing you're wearing."
"Er, yes," Callaghan responded for what seemed to be the tenth time in an hour, "I'm evaluating it as part of the Showcase." It was a half-truth. Tadashi deserved that much. "And isn't that her over there?" Callaghan motioned with his head as he reached to take the device off. Gogo was standing near Brian's corner, engaged in conversation with the blonde boy. Judging from hand motions alone, they were discussing cycling. Gogo was leaning against the wall, a lopsided smirk on her face as Brian seemed to be passionately explaining something.
Callaghan's eyes turned to Tadashi as his fingers touched the now warm rim of the scanner. The boy wasn't saying anything, but the readout came in just as he was about to lift the headgear off. […there she goes again with some other guy. Lucky bastard.]
Callaghan raised an eyebrow as his hands ground to a halt. Tadashi was a rock. The sophomore was one of the most well-adjusted individuals he had ever had the pleasure of instructing. Bright, innovative, and stubborn in all the right ways, Tadashi had the air of an up and coming leader in the engineering community. The fact that the young man was emotionally whole and stable was something Callaghan took for granted. It was a little disorienting to see words that smacked completely of jealousy pop up in the eyepiece.
At least, that was, if the machine did what it purported to do.
"Is there an issue, Mr. Hamada?" His hands dropped down to his side. Curiosity won out over ethical considerations. While romance in the SFIT lab wasn't unknown, it was a little surprising to him that Tadashi would turn his attentions to the taciturn, somewhat angry design engineer, even if she was quite attractive.
"No. I just saw something that I thought might help her with that magnetic coupling issue she's been working on is all," Tadashi explained, the wistful look on his face disappearing almost instantly. [Sure, Tadashi. That's the only 'coupling' issue you wanted to work on. You're pathetic.]
"She has been working on that problem for quite a while," Callaghan mused, patting the boy on the shoulder, "Always looking out for others, Mr. Hamada. That's quite the admirable trait. I'm sure she'll want to hear about it when she's done talking."
Callaghan glanced casually over to the corner again. Brian and Gogo were still busy talking, phones out. Although a little disconnected with telecommunications and student behavior, he easily recognized the almost ritualistic trading of phone numbers. The man winced inwardly as he caught Tadashi looking away and down.
[I just couldn't resist, could I? I set boundaries. I was careful. I convinced myself that the one thing she didn't need was yet another guy knocking on her door looking for a date; that the best thing was to be her friend because that's what she needed. Now look at me - regretting it every minute of the day. Good job, me. I don't even know why I do this to myself. It's pretty clear I'm not her type anyway.]
The scanner display was superfluous as Tadashi only half succeeded in muting the visible dismay on his face and the slump in his shoulders. The boy had it bad. He had seen it before, the longing looks his soldiers had given the photographs of their significant others on the plane immediately after deployment. Callaghan wasn't too old to have forgotten that feeling. "Then again, perhaps it's something worth sharing now? If it's important enough, I'm sure she won't mind the interruption."
"No, no, it's fine," Tadashi replied, managing his normal façade. "Looks like she's scheduling her Friday. Don't want to interrupt that." [I wish I could. What would I even say? 'Excuse me, I've fallen for her, so step off?' Gogo would kill me if I didn't die of embarrassment first.]
Part of Callaghan wanted to shove the kid over there but sympathy won out. Almost everyone had been there before – it was hard to see one of his favorite students mooning about over a girl, especially one as hard and cold as Gogo. Still, emotions were a delicate thing – there was no rushing or interfering with affairs of the heart. None that Callaghan had ever seen work out cleanly, anyway. "Yes, I could see how getting between a tiger and its meal would generally a bad idea," came the dry statement. "Anyhow, did you catch the last presentation?"
The boy's face brightened a little. "The chemistry demo? Yeah, that was pretty amazing. Did you make her an offer?" [She deserves an offer for the hard work she put into her presentation.]
"Indeed I did, Mr. Hamada. Your graduating class has a keen sense of observation."
"What about mine? We the slow kids or something?" The pop of gum announced Gogo's arrival. The scanner immediately locked on. The feed started to process.
"Hardly. I just haven't had a chance to fully evaluate your class yet," the professor responded. She gave him a quizzical look, pointing at her own head to indicate the professor's. "Ah yes. This. Just a project. I'm just about done with it."
"Hm. Okay," Gogo responded skeptically. "Hey Tadashi. Wasabi said you were looking for me." The gum popped. [Let me guess – you're looking out for me like you always do. You got to know I've never been 'friends' with a guy before, and I hate being friends with you the most of all.]
"Oh, right. There's a magnetic bottle stabilization display on the far end of the hall that I thought you'd be interested in," Tadashi said, a smile crossing his face. "Did you see it? I think it might help you with the cohesion issue, since the magnetic coupling has been slipping on your last few mock ups." [I just want to help. I just want to spend some time with you, even if it never goes anywhere.]
She nodded, peering at the boy from the corner of her eyes as she brushed a strand of hair from her face. He jaw worked faster as she chewed her gum. "Yeah. Talked to that guy. He's using a bulkier conduction method that'll slow down the bike. Might look at it again later though. Thanks anyway." [Always trying to help fix things. Am I so broken you only see me as a project? Is that why you never make a move? Screw you, Hamada. Screw you for being right.]
"Okay, well, that was it really," Tadashi cleared his throat as he averted his gaze back to the corner where Gogo had come from. The other biker was busy having a conversation with Martika who had just skated in, Alexander Krei in tow. "So what was up with that guy? He looks sketchy." [I don't even know what I'm thinking… ugh, she's doing the hair thing. She's so cute.]
Callaghan stifled a grimace. This was getting painful. The older man wanted to take off the device, but morbid curiosity stayed his hand. Maybe he'd just make himself scarce.
"Huh? Oh, Brian? He does bike mods in his spare time. He rides a tricked out THX 1138 Darksider – no way it beats my mods. Probably gonna race him and make the loser, meaning him, buy me dinner," a predatory grin crossed her face at the thought as she glanced at Tadashi. "Why? Worried about me?" [Of course he's worried about me… as a friend. I'm only going out with these guys because you're not even vaguely interested in me, you know.]
"You're a big girl. You can take care of yourself. I wouldn't be a friend if I didn't say something, though." [Yeah. Keep saying 'friend'. Maybe if you say it enough times you'll believe that's what you want from her.]
Her neutral face betrayed nothing as she popped her gum. "Whatever, Hamada. I don't need you to do me any favors." [Now he's gonna look at me with those stupid eyes of his, and give me that stupid smile, and my stomach's gonna flip over and I'm gonna hate myself for being a giant bitch at him. I hate this so much.]
She turned away immediately as his trademark crooked grin crossed his face. [And there it is. God that smile. You're killing me, Hamada. How is it I can ride at 120 miles an hour and still find it so hard to say 'I like you'?]
[Just tell her how you feel. Tell her that you'd do anything just to take her out one night. Tell her how beautiful her eyes are. Do something. Anything but stand there and waffle like an idiot or let her go off with that guy with the dumb hair.] "Right then. Sorry I brought it up. Don't let me stop you."
[Ugh, I'm so stupid. All I do is treat him like dirt and I stand around wondering why he doesn't want me? He's not some lame "bad boy". He's sweet and nice and that smile of his makes me die inside a little every day. Stop bellyaching and just tell him.] "Mn," she grunted. "Seeya around then, Hamada."
[I'm such an idiot.] The readout came from both sides. The professor rubbed his temples. "Right, well, this thing is starting to make my head hurt. I'll have to take my leave of you both."
The device came off, and Professor Callaghan found himself walking yet again.
oo00oo
"Robert. So good to see you again," Krei said as Callaghan reappeared at Brian's table, the brain scanner in hand. "You neglected to tell me that the device you were testing was the invention of this charming couple." His assistant adjusted her glasses and looked away, clutching her tablet computer to her chest. She did not want to be there, and Callaghan didn't need a scanner to see that.
"We're not a couple," Brian said flatly. The broad smile on Martika's face flickered for a split second.
Callaghan eyed Krei as he placed the headgear back onto the plastic card table. "Yes, and you're welcome to it. I for one found this tech to be inherently dangerous and borderline unethical."
"And yet you wore it through our entire conversation. How hypocritical of you," Krei responded, placing his hand on the device as he gave Callaghan a hard stare. "May I?"
Brian shrugged. "Sure. Do whatever." Martika nudged him in the ribs, eliciting a grunt. "Uh, I mean, let me know if you need any assistance."
The industrialist nodded as Martika skated over, whirling around the man to help him adjust and calibrate the device. "Okay!" She chirped, "let me explain a little how it works and how to interpret the data."
Callaghan's stern look turned to Brian as he folded his arms across his chest. "Mr. Strom. You realize the implications of this device are far reaching. There's an inherent danger to providing this sort of ability to just anyone."
"There are failsafes," Brian replied almost indignantly. "I wouldn't let an invention like this just get released unchecked. Besides, there are certain operation specifications."
"What gives?" Krei questioned as everyone turned to look at him. "I'm not getting any of the readings you promised."
"For example," Brian continued, "The device actually utilizes the mental processing power of the user itself. Each user of the thing is subjected to a diagnostic scan – it won't work for anyone with an IQ of under 121 because their feeble minds are incapable of processing and collating the data."
A slow smile split Callaghan's features. "So you basically have to test at genius in order to use it."
"Yup."
"What!?" Krei's face was flushed with anger as he removed the device from his head. Martika snatched it away before he could throw it out. "Are you saying I test under genius!?"
"Well, there are other factors in play. Evidence of drug or alcohol abuse, for example, will force the device to fault-quit," Brian said, a smarmy smirk on his face. "Also, low neurotransmitter levels halt the device's function, too. Like I said – failsafes. Can't have angry, mean, or depressed individuals walking around with the ability to read minds. So no, I'm not saying you're not a genius. I'm saying that there's also an equal part probability that you're a drunk, junkie or a depressed, angry jerk."
"Mr. Strom, I rarely say this, but you are an arrogant bastard of epic proportions," Callaghan said, barely containing a laugh. "But perhaps the most ethical one I've ever met."
"Nah. Just practical," Brian responded. "I'm an inventor. I want to build stuff to sell, not bring down civilization."
"Touche'." Callaghan watched Krei stomp off, humiliated and angry. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to show up to the Showcase next year with a less… controversial project?"
"We'll see what we can do," Martika said with a grin.
oo00oo
Tadashi stepped down the showcase stairs, hands in his pockets. Today was unsuccessful in every meaning of the word. Gogo had disappeared soon after their encounter. The throaty roar of her motorcycle was unmistakable, however, and it was closely followed up an unfamiliar engine which he assumed to be Brian's. The stabbing feeling in his chest wasn't going away. He needed to get out and get a breath of fresh air.
At the bottom of the stairs he found a girl in a hoodie and jean shorts, legs crossed at the ankles as she listened to the music coming out of headphones that weren't over her ears.
"Expel 10? Feeling a little dark?"
Martika grinned, looking up at Tadashi. "Maybe," she said, taking a sharp breath. "Maybe I'm just feeling depressed. Ever have one of those days where you wanted to say something to someone, but ended up just saying the opposite thing?"
"All the time." Tadashi shook his head. This day had been an abject failure in communications.
"Want some advice?"
"Sure," Tadashi said, sitting down on the steps as well. "The way things are going these days, unsolicited advice from a stranger couldn't possibly hurt."
She laughed. It was a pretty laugh with an undertone of resentment. "Never fall in love with a biker."
Tadashi paused, looking at the girl who was busy staring up into the dark, cloudy skies of San Fransokyo with a bittersweet smile on her face. He let out a heavy sigh.
"Good advice."