ArchivedLogs:Can I Build A Tank?

Can I Build A Tank?
Dramatis Personae Kisha, Mariot	2013-04-12 Teachers are evil, save for when they might tolerate experimental siege engineering... For her part, Mariot attempts to talk Kisha out of viewing being kidnapped by an evil dictator as a viable career choice.
Location <XS> Kitchen
While science never sleeps it /does/ have to eat and drink. Which is why Kisha is in the kitchen, sipping a drink which looks remarkably like whiskey between bites of cold pizza. The teen is dressed in black pants and a a matching t-shirt both of which are a little on the scorched side. Feeling moderately pleased with herself for finding her way here without having to stop to ask directions even once, Mariot can't help but break into a smile as she steps into the kitchen - before blinking and cocking her head at sight of its singed occupant. Raising a hand in greeting, she ventures another smile. "Hello, there", she offers, her voice likely to mark out as educated and from the other side of the Pond. Kisha tilts her head and blinks. "Hi," she offers before finishing off a slice. "I don't believe we've met?" She drums her fingers against the counter. Each of her arms has nasty burn scars from the wrists up, criss-crossed with deeper scar lines. "Are you lost?" Mariot laughs softly, shaking her head - though it quickly cocks again as she takes in the signs of damage to her young companion. "No. Fortunately, I'm not lost. Though this is the first time I've found my way in here on my own. I'm afraid that I'm a new teacher here. Mariot Gall." "Oh. What sort of teacher..? If you don't mind my asking," Kisha wonders, putting her slice of pizza down and turning her full attention towards Mariot. "I'm Kisha, nice to meet you." "An embarrassingly new one", Mariot answers with a swift grin, taking a moment to orient herself before starting to sort out the necessary implements to make herself a coffee. "Various things. Chiefly history, but I'm likely to be doing some work in ethics, and probably some in languages. Quite possibly some physical education, too. Though I'm still trying to get my head around how things work here, I admit." A slight pause, then a swiftm mischievous grin. "For all I know, I'll wind up doing nothing but teach 'soccer' skills and deportment, because what else is a Brit good for?" Kisha blinks. "The history of what?" she wonders. "The world, the country, other countries? Countries which no longer exist?" She does her best to hide the cringe at the word ethics, because she is super polite. But then /sport/ is mentioned. CRINGE. "If we're doing stereotypes you'd turn out to be evil." Mariot laughs, raising her brows. "Well, naturally. I +do+ have a British accent. I've got to be evil if I'm not in a Harry Potter film - and even then, as an adult I'd clearly be at least somewhat suspect...." "For the history, European largely. I have had some... direct interest in Middle Eastern affairs, and my own studies focused quite a lot upon revolutionary and ideological struggles. I have a particular interest in how people form - or are given - identities, which seems rather... pertinent at present. Especially in this school." Kisha blinks some more, looking unconvinced. Which is a slight improvement on the cringe at sports look. "Harry Potter book surely? Everyone knows films made from books are always substandard. Out of interest would I get extra credit for history classes by building authentic siege weapons? I have a hankering for a ballista..." "No, films - the books were written by a woman resident in my home city, much of it in a coffee shop I knew before it became a Potter tourist trap", Mariot corrects with a smile - seemingly opting to delay the siege weaponry query for the moment. "To Rowling, there's nothing inherently evil about being British. She's a Brit herself, after all. In Hollywood, however, even British-origin stories do tend to present the Brits as evil, if they're not wholly written out in favour of Americans: the Potter series is very unusual in its complete lack of American inserts." "After all, even when Tom Cruise plays a Nazi, the 'bad' Nazis have English accents while he retains his American tones. The Dark Is Rising turned its young hero into an American in spite of the manifest success of British Harry Potter: the default presumption was still that a hero had to be American." The older woman shrugs, propping her rump against one of the counters. "As for ballistae... that sounds rather more Roman than medieval to me. I confess that I don't know quite what the marking schemes here are like - I've got quite a bit of reading to do. But practical projects certainly +could+ fit with some classes. I'll need to see if it's possible to split credits between classes, or the like. And find out whether there's anywhere in the grounds we could use as a catapult test-range." "I could line it up down the boys dorm?" Kisha offers every so innocently. "But the ballista was used in that period of history. Trust me it's all recorded inside my head. I could also do a mangonel, trebuchet or if you can find me enough bronze a pretty sweet cannon. I tried asking once already but no-one seemed willing to fund me... At least not when they saw the price of bronze." The teen takes another sip of her whiskey-like beverage. "I wouldn't say Tom Cruise is heroic. He's in a cult. An evil cult for that matter. Although I guess not evil evil. But you know what I mean... Right? Anyway.. The grounds are probably big enough to test fire most things, although a cannon could disturb the neighbors so it would need a lot of paperwork completing." Kisha suddenly slams her hand against he counter. "Holy cra... uh... nkshafts... Would you do world war two? I could MAKE A TANK!" "I +suspect+ that there might be a few concerns about manufacturing explosives in the school, let alone storing them if we were to manage a compound that actually +worked+ rather than simply fizzling or flaring", Mariot says dryly, though she's evidently amused rather than disapproving. "And I think that I might find my head in my hands if the gardening staff hear that I'm even entertaining the notion of tracked, armoured vehicles being let loose. But... practical mechanical engineering, I might be able to get away with. Certainly, we did a piece on Roman siege warfare at my own school. Hooking up with Physics to do a joint project on that kind of thing might be possible. Still - I can't make any promises. I am +very+ new here. The most I can say is that I'll investigate." Kisha makes with the puppy eyes. "But a /tank/," she whines. "Want. Need. So badly. I promise I wouldn't make the guns functional! And I'd drive it on special occassions... It'd save money really, because I could live inside it."" Mariot laughs, freely and happily - and evidently not +at+ the pleading young woman. "I suspect that we might run afoul of a few laws if we store our students in metal boxes", she points out. "And they do +not+ have a reputation for comfort. Even modern armoured vehicles are not exactly pleasant to be inside, I can assure you." Kisha pffs. "I know everything about the specifications of world war two tanks," she assures. "And I /still/ want to live in one. I mean I'd prefer a U-boat but honestly who has the time to build a submarine in a lake? I don't even think it's deep enough. It isn't like I would be sleeping inside anyway, I don't do that sort of thing. Sleep that is. It'd just be somewhere to keep my things and study." Mariot blinks in surprise. "No sleep? I can imagine that making schoolwork rather easy to cope with. Is that your, ahh, particular ability, if you don't mind my asking?" "You could say that," Kisha agrees. "Would it be rude to ask if you are... different? And if so in which way? I still have yet to master the ettiqute of powers." "Hah. Me neither", Mariot agrees firmly. "And in my case, it can be a little more awkward. I... do precious little +active+. I'm just difficult - very difficult - for others to target with their abilities. Not that that's as fabulous a protection as it sounds. Someone whose ability is that he's super-strong is super-strong in himself; if he punches me, his fist already has all that kinetic energy by the time it lands. Someone whose ability is that he +amplifies+ the impact of his perfectly mundane muscles upon a target, however, is likely to do nothing to me that a mundane person wouldn't: his ability simply won't activate against me." She shrugs, offering a wry smile. "It's been given the snappy title of 'targeting immunity'." Kisha takes a long swig of her drink. "Would you like some non-alcoholic whiskey? It's part of a social experiment I'm doing," she offers. "Is that some weird very specific telepathy? You fizzle peoples power control? Or are you affecting the changes themselves?" "I appear to be... well." Mariot purses her lips, then chuckles and nods. "Yes, please, to the whiskey. I'm game to give it a go. My ability... it's as if I don't +register+. I'm not a... white noise generator, +actively+ interfering in effects around me. I simply am not on the right 'wave length' to be detected. You know the old Superman power of being able to see through everything +except+ lead? That makes lead the most noticeable thing in his world - he can scan around with his x-ray vision, and anything he can still +see+ is lead. That's how many people seem to imagine what I do - but I'm more like the air is to him. There's just... nothing that a power on its own can lock onto. If I'm face to face with someone and they can use other senses, they can try to force their ability to lock onto me, but I can usually resist that." "But anything they generate away from me, that they direct by some other means than personally targeting me, I have no resistance to. Someone who conjures up, oh, a tidal wave and rolls it over the beach I happen to be standing on will still squash me. But if someone tries to, say, alter my memories or make me a case of spontaneous human combustion, they can't 'find' me at all with their power." Kisha pours a second glass. "It's not as nice as the real thing," she admits. "But the experiment was mostly about if a teacher would try give me detention for having it. Rather than the flavor itself. But aaaaaaaannnnnnyyyway. Surely in the punching you example they could improve the impact on your clothing and that would transfer into you? Or does the effect extend outwards?" "It runs to touch, pretty much", Mariot says. "Simply laying a hand on someone's shoulder can drop them out of 'contact' with an ability previously working on them. Which has occasionally caused a minor social problem around our kind. Shaking hands with me doesn't simply remove a direct converation with a telepath, for example - it stops the person being perceptible at all to the power. They just +disappear+ from its 'view'... then ping back into existence as soon as contact is broken." Kisha digs out her cellphone, then staring at Marion she waves it nearer and nearer. "Interesting," she muses. "Although you'll have to forgive me if I never risk touching you for fear I might get hit by months of missed sleep all at once." "But anyway... I can see that being an amazing ability for a teacher here," Kisha notes. "Practically every deadly power a student could have is rendered useless on you. Without any of the awkward side effects of various types of invulnerability. I mean being made of metal would give great protection, but really ruin the stairs." Mariot chuckles softly. "I've never suppressed anyone's +internal+ ability", she assures her young companion. "I suspect that I might be able to learn to do so... but it's not something I'd experiment with randomly. And the protection's not perfect. Someone who can, say, conjure up a ball of lightning in his hands and throw it... if he throws it like a ball, using hand-eye coordination, then I'm no more immune than anyone else. If he has it 'home in' so he never misses, however, it'll fizzle - I simply don't exist as a point of reference for the power, let alone a target. But it does mean that I can hope to provide some protection against mishaps. Or bullying." "Electric is probably a bad example," Kisha says with a shrug. "The energy will home in innately regardless of the power. They'd just need to throw or target it /near/ you. Then it would arc itself into say a watch or necklace and ZAP." She shrugs some more. "I don't like to push my luck with some things and dying from a sudden backlog of sleep seems like something to be cautious about." Mariot shrugs slightly. "If the power itself needs a targeting reference, then it'll fail - whatever it is - if it's based on me. If they release a bolt aimed at me, and it's capable of grounding, then it'll probably do so through them the instant they let go. If they can hurl it like a physical object, however, then I'll need to try to dodge - and pray - just like anyone else." "And we +have+ tested whether proximity to me harms people. I can't 'nuke' people just by being close to hand, or even in contact. If a water-breather touches my hand, he doesn't start drowning." Kisha sips her drink. "It's the one thing I don't like about mutant powers," she admits. "They're not reliable. They start suddenly, they can change or interact weirdly and that means you can't account for every variable. Which makes me cranky. I do sometimes wonder if my brain has changed in such a way that I have become mildly crazy, but then I remember everyone here is a little mad and my concerns diminish." "I really +have+ been tested to confirm I'm safe", Mariot says softly, offering a gentle smile. "And the Professor wouldn't want me here if I weren't, would he? But I can understand your caution. Still... I have the +impression+ that there's a bit more to what you d than a lack of sleep. Am I right?" Eyes narrowing suspiciously Kisha tilts her head. "A little? Have they given you a file on me?" she wonders. "Because you shouldn't believe anything you read in a file. Can't be trusted. I dabble with machines... I understand how they work. Nothing too special." Mariot laughs, shaking her head. "I haven't read +any+ student files, honestly. I've no idea what you might or might not have done, I promise." Kisha pauses. "I uhm... actually haven't done anything?" she offers, frowning. "I mean seriously haven't done anything. I just don't like the idea of people keeping a file on me now that I'm... in an at risk group." She winks. "I mean I'd be lying if I said the thought of getting kidnapped by a tinpot dictator to help work on a nuclear program didn't keep my awake at night. But anyway yeah I know how practically everything ever invented is made." Mariot chuckles softly. "And I could hide said dictator from telepaths, or the like. Still, you're... rather more versatile in your potential, from the sound of it. But so far as I know, the only files here are the kind of ones a school +should+ have. So that we can find out whether you bothered to pass an examinations at any point in your life, and whether you're an infectious carrier of typhoid. Little things like that." "Is that really a thing which happens?" Kisha asks, unconvinced. "The typhoid that is. I know that dictators happen. As for my studies... It wasn't until I came here that I met anyone even half as smart as me, school work was so easy I didn't even need to turn up most times." "Typhoid? Not likely. Things like measles, far more common. There're multiple major outbreaks in the UK at the moment, as a result of scare stories in the 90s over the measles vaccine", Mariot answers after taking another sip, her expression suggesting that she's still making up her mind about the faux-whiskey. "Someone I knew years back legitimately skipped some vaccines, as a result of concerns over serious allergic responses... but the vaccination system can only tolerate so many 'free riders' before it starts to break down and cause problems." Kisha scowls. "If you're going to have a system like that it shouldn't be optional," she states. "If there was genuine medical concern they wouldn't allow it for fear of lawsuits. So they've basically just decided they value their own ignorance more important than their kids safety." "A combination vaccine - for measles, mumps, and rubella - was supposed to dramatically increase the risk of autism", Mariot explains. "The study making those claims was resoundingly debunked within a couple of years, and even most of those involved with it disowned the research before long, but... the lingering impression was a damaging one. And that was in a country far more inclined to accept scientific advice than +this+ one. So... I'd imagine that medical records here are at +least+ as important as back on the other side of the Atlantic." Kisha pfffs. "Medical records here are less important than your insurance documents," she points out. "I have very little sympathy for people who follow a stupid fad without doing proper research... Thinking about it medical records will probably be extremely important now that everyone fears mutants. Joy. Here's hoping they never did any DNA tests while I was in the hospital." "Unlikely, I believe - those cost money, and money is king here even more than at home", Mariot answers. "If a corner can be cut without inviting a law suit, it will be, in most cases. The chances of any unofficial 'extras' taking place are really low. But keeping +everyone+ here out of conventional medical facilities seems like a good idea." "There may have been circumstances which would make them be thorough," Kisha admits with another scowl. "I may have built something which exploded during the science fair. Bit of a mishap and entirely not my fault." Mariot lifts a brow, then ventures a low chuckles. "Most people, I suspect, view mutant powers in terms of more... immediate effects. Not a penchant for things that might go boom. That's more likely to have had you registered with +different+ agencies, given the concerns about school violence." Kisha swirls her faux whiskey around. "That might explain why they put it down to another mutant," she admits. "But still expelled me for bringing a potentially dangerous device into the school. Still, such is life. Kind of worked out for the best really. This is a much better school than I would have been able to get into normally, my dad couldn't afford to pay for a decent education." "And you don't have to worry about child services being called in here if something a bit odd happens", Mariot agrees. "It +does+ seem to be a very effective - and welcome - safe haven, I'm glad to say." Kisha pffs. "If that had happened I'd have made a break for it," she counters. "No way I am going into the system. I figure I am pretty well equipped power wise for living by myself. I could start living in an abandoned building, tap power lines and that sort of thing. Easy. Actually thinking about it that wouldn't be that bad a life." "How are you at finding food, or avoiding notice, or coping when you get ill?", Mariot asks. "I'd recommend sticking with us for at least a while longer." "I buy it in a store?" Kisha points out. "I mean it's not hard to make some money. I could mine bitcoins or repair broken electronics. But I don't plan on leaving just yet, not unless the Government decides to come pay the school a visit." "I admire your faith in us", Mariot says dryly, albeit with a smile. "Certainly, I'd ask you not to head that way unless it's +absolutely+ necessary. And I'd hope that you're at least moderately happy here." "I don't have faith in anything. I have science," Kisha says with a smile. "I'm not unhappy? I dislike being limited in what I can actually build.. But I can at least see the reasons behind it. There would be mayhem if I actually built a truck mounted laser cannon in a big city." "Or a school adjacent to a small town", Mariot notes, though she still sounds amused rather than disapproving. "Though that sounds as if you're getting rather beyond what +has+ been built and into the realms of theoretical developments..." Kisha shakes her head. "Rheinmetall Defense have tested a fifty kilowatt high energy laser," she enthuses. "It's basically one of the coolest things ever. Not really portable, but if you had a really big tractor trailer you could probably move it about. I think the idea is for them to be truck mounted eventually, so they can shoot down mortar rounds or rockets." "Mmm. That does ring a bell", Mariot agrees. "Been tested on drones, as I recall. I admit that I was thinking rather more of something out of anime or sci fi. I'm afraid my nerdish side was showing." "Exactly! Which would be so very helpful given all the stories about mutant killing drones which are being tested in New York," Kisha explains seriously, draining the last of her drink in a gulp. "I do hope they warned you about all that sort of thing before signing up here?" Mariot laughs softly, though the muscles around her eyes tighten and her gaze drops. "I... my first encounter - my first +knowing+ encounter - with a mutant was a lethal one. For quite a few people. I survived thanks to my ability, but... I'm here to try to be of use. The present government in Britain dismantled some of the +last+ government's steps towards further development of the Big Brother state. Here... things have always been rather different. And a friend told me that there was a school where I might be of use. So... here I am, to try to be useful." Kisha takes another bite of her pizza. "It's not the mutants you should be worried about. It's people testing mutant killing robots," she points out. "Who don't as a rule tend to be mutants themselves. At least I think they don't. Can't really say for sure without meeting them, but the odds are pretty good." "The +biggest+ incident thus far seems to have been mutant in origin", Mariot points out. "I'm rather more concerned about malevolence than genetics. Focusing simply on one set of trouble-causers is dangerous - but I certainly do agree that I don't trust major elements in the government here, let alone the military corporations. The US's expenditure on armaments was astonishing even before this... 'situation' arose." With a frown Kisha gestures with her pizza slice. "You can't really complain about military spending," she counters. "It's indirectly responsible for all kinds of positive improvements. Like superglue. I once read that there are two main areas people will invest money. In porn and in the military. Anything else and funding is fickle. Malevolence wise people are all pretty terrible if you give them a chance, which is why I much prefer my machines." "You +do+ realise that you just insulted me, don't you?", Mariot asks with a lop-sided smile. "Either I'm not supposed to consider myself a person, or I'm among those who're 'pretty terrible'.... And I'd certainly say that there're a lot of things the US could spend money on that'd do more general good than being responsible, on its own, for two fifths of +global+ military spending. It spends around twenty times as much per person as the next-highest investor in military hardware...." The teacher shrugs, offering another swift smile. "I'm ex-military, myself. I'm very much a beliver in giving soldiers what they need to undertake the tasks they're assigned. But the first famous warnings about the 'military-industrial complex' in the US came from a former general while he was serving as President, if memory serves. I'd far rather see much of that technological investment put into +non-military+ programmes. Just imagine what NASA could do with, say, half the military budget." Kisha smiles. "I didn't discount myself from the pretty terrible group now did I?" she points out wryly. "Everyone has the capacity to be terrible and most people use it. Even if it's just by letting more terrible people get away with things. As for getting Nasa funding... You'd just have to convince the military that space was a potential warzone and there you go. Funding. Which actually someone should probably do, because it'd also mean investment in defenses which would potentially stop random rocks from just crashing into the planet and wiping everyone out. Which would be a really cruddy way to go." "Oh, it's formally accepted as a potential war zone, and there's an official asteroid defence programme in place, if memory serves. It's just woefully underfunded, because spotting space rocks has no immediate profit potential - whereas contracts for existing hard-tech manufacturers are worth a fortune." Mariot shrugs ruefully. "NASA keeps having its budgets cut, even for things which are formally agreed to be 'essential'." "Part of the problem is the obsession here with comparative advantage rather than absolute gain: so long as you're ahead of your rivals, you're winning. So if your rivals, say, go bankrupt with the collapse of the Soviet Union, you can slash all the programmes that were intended to compete with them - while retaining, and wherever the lobby groups persuade the politicians that it's possible, expanding all those that turn solid profits and require no risk. So you wind up with desert boots that melt in hot weather, helicopters that jam when exposed to either sand or snow, and infantry vehicles that can't even stop an AK 47 round - because the production of them's intended to make money, not to serve a military purpose." "+Your+ kind of interest in research is only of marginal relevance to most of the really big contracts: research is a comparatively risky expense, whereas mass-producing old designs on the cheap is a route to financial success." Kisha waves her hand. "The trick would be to drop a rock on something," she considers thoughtfully. "Flatten a landmark so there would be a huge amount of public outcry. Out of interest what military group were you in? If that isn't prying too much? And... how did you go from that to /history teacher/?" "My first degree was in history - well, history and politics", Mariot answers with a slight chuckle. "And my second in international conflict. In the military, I was in the Intelligence Corps. Assessing threats, trying to understand how to defuse or deflect them. Attempting to understand why problems arise, and how to change the situation +without+ flattening anything. And... I wound up being discharged on medical grounds. Things got messy, and weird, and I found myself part of a... new world." "Isn't the joke that military intelligence is an oxymoron?" Kisha asks curiously. "I have to admit I don't mind all the money which goes into military tech. Some of it is super cool and it's pretty much all floating around inside my head. Which is why I'm a little worried about people finding out... Dirty bombs, easy. Ballistic missiles, harder but I could probably manage with even a mediocre support team." She ooos. "I could always defect to somewhere if things here get really. That could work nicely." "'Military intelligence isn't', is another popular one", Mariot informs her young companion. "And we tended to have a rather dim view of groups like the CIA. The exploding cigars brigade weren't +exactly+ highly regarded among those of us out in the field being shot at.... But I'd +really+ advise against any plans to sign up as a designer. You'd be a pet at best, and more likely a prisoner. Preternaturally gifted 'assets' who can't be afforded to fall into anyone else's hands aren't likely to experience much in the way of freedom..." Kisha giggles. "I dunno," she says cheerfully. "The whole field of crazy spook toys has a lot of fun stuff in. Most of which I am not really allowed to build, but I can design it. Like did you know that in world war two they actually came up with a bomb filled with bats? Each strapped to a tiny little incendiary device. They planned on dropping them over Japan, where the bats would roost in hard to reach spots and then Whoosh. City on fire. Pretty terrible, but also very cunning." "The Soviet dog bombs are perhaps the most infamous", Mariot responds. "Successfully trained to expect food to be located under tanks. Unfortunately, the great majority of tanks available for training them were... Soviet, of course. The first battlefield use was not exactly a success." "Pigeon missiles are another good one," Kisha chimes in. "They peck to home in on targets thinking they'll get a reward. But anyway going back to your point about being an 'asset' it's still sounding a lot nicer than some of the scary rumours about what is happening to mutants in New York. A lifetime of controlled comfort and work verses vanishing in the night and never coming back...." "Exploding rats were a British idea, if memory serves. I can't quite remember the details.... But I'd fully expect those who're 'disappeared' by official groups to be assessed for their potential usefulness. Some are likely to find themselves given 'jobs for life' - with that not necessarily being of a long duration..." Kisha pouts. "I'm not too sure about that," she ventures. "But maybe you're right... I mean it's not impossible.. But I think I'll settle for not finding out through any means at my disposal." She sighs. "Anyway something of a depressing topic.. How're you finding America aside from all the bad stuff?" "Frightening", Mariot answers promptly, lips twisting into another swift, lop-sided smile. "I'm from a full formal ally of more than sixty years' standing - and even with the privileges attached to that I still have to queue for over an hour to have my fingerprints taken, so that I can thereafter be considered for entry. And once inside, it's... odd, often at the most unexpected of moments. I'm definitely feeling that Britain and America are two cultures divided by rather more than a common language. But there's a lot of beauty here, and the Academy.... The Big Brother state is something that I think needs to be opposed where it most counts - in the minds of people like yourself. If there's something I can do here to keep an alternative vision of the future alive, then I'm glad to help. I was told that I could help, and I'm keen to try to make that true. However odd life in the Colonies might be." "You're making me want to re-read Cory Doctorow novels now," Kisha asides. "Especially Little Brother. Speaking of which I should look into getting some seriously hot hot sauce for personal protection and deliciousness." She finishes off the last of her pizza. "I should probably get going, I have a bunch of homework to do this weekend and I prefer to get it out of the way earlier so I know exactly how much time I have for my work." "I confess that I've not read much Doctorow - just 'The City and The City', in full", Mariot admits as if confessing to a noteworthy failing. "Actually, that's a Mieville, isn't it? But I certainly shouldn't detain you from your homework. It was nice to meet you, Kisha." Kisha tilts her head. "People rarely say that and mean in," she remarks with dry amusement. "But you're not bad for a teacher. If you know what I mean.. Anyway, I shall cya around!"