milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

The final layer of encryption on the Aperture data is proving to be remarkably stubborn. Alyx has, at least, confirmed that it is the final layer, which means the trickier code is understandable. Whatever they're, the higher-ups at Aperture wanted it to stay hidden.

Hopefully, it's something of vital importance to their portal research that could give the Resistance another edge over the Combine. But given that this is Aperture Science we're talking about, it could just as easily be Cave Johnson's secret devil's food cake recipe. Who knows?

Anyway, Alyx is in Milliways in the hope that a change of venue will help her work. She's got the laptop, a legal pad full of notes, and a heaping platter of onion rings.

(What? Just because she's working doesn't mean she can't soothe her pregnancy cravings at the same time.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

".... I don't know what those words are," says Ellen. "What's a gigabyte? Or the other one?"

"--!" Alyx takes a deep breath and drags her hands over her face again. "Okay. How much data storage does the Pip-Boy have?"

"That depends on the size of the holotape you insert," Ellen says. "Mostly it's just for basic personal information and stuff. I don't know."

"Okay, but you know how data storage is calculated, right? A one or a zero is a bit, eight bits is a byte..."

"I... think so," Ellen says cautiously. "I never learned to program anything. But the numbers sort of sound familiar."

"Okay." Alyx nods. "In general, computer data storage is calculated in powers of two, and you get a step up on nomenclature every 1,024 units. 1,024 bytes is a kilobyte, and 1,024 kilobytes is a megabyte. From there, you go to gigabyte, terabyte, and petabyte, which is enough room to hold the text of the entire Library of Congress about fifty times over."

Ellen considers this, and then looks at the little computer. You'll forgive her for the skeptical expression that crosses her face. She's having some trouble picturing that much tape.

Yes, Alyx said hard disk, but Ellen wouldn't know a hard disk from one of Three Dog's old records if it leapt out of a mole rat's corpse and bit her.

"Human data storage isn't quite up to that capacity yet," explains Alyx, mistaking Ellen's meaning entirely. "This, right here?" She points to the cylinder again. "It's Combine tech. The data's imprinted at the molecular level."

"Oh," says Ellen. "Aliens. All right."

Suddenly everything makes sense again. Because aliens did it.

"...that's not a catch-all explanation for everything, y'know."

"I know," says Ellen. "But I'm not an engineer. Once you turn sixteen in the Vault they stop teaching you everything and start teaching you just the stuff you need to do for your job. I really don't know how to program anything or how computers work, except at the level of keeping the circuits from frying. I do know that I've seen alien technology that can do things not even pre-war robots could ever do. So aliens make more sense."

"We have tech that the aliens don't, yet," points out Alyx. "They never figured out local teleportation. We have, and that gives us an edge."

Ellen nods. "Different aliens," she says. "Mine teleported me onto their ship."

"Yeah, but there's probably something humans have that they don't," says Alyx. "Like music or genetic engineering or, I dunno, chili cheese fries or something."

... and there's the blank look again.

"I know the first two," Ellen finally offers tentatively.

"...you've never had chili cheese fries?"

Alyx gapes for a moment, then flags down a passing waitrat.

"I've had fries, thanks to that soldier from the Second World war," Ellen says, "but I don't think I've ever heard of them being made out of cheese. Or chili."

"They're not made of cheese and chili, they have that as a topping," says Alyx. "They're really good, you'll see..."

Before long, the rat returns with a platter of said item.

Ellen is...

Well, she's seen cheese that color before. Sorta. In Mr. Mills' world. The chili, however, is not in her repertoire of Things I Have Seen And Know What They Are. She's just gonna stare at that part of the goo for a while, okay?

Alyx nods encouragingly at the plate. "C'mon, try it. Just once."

(It's very mild chili, FWIW. Alyx discovered a while back that she doesn't like 'hot' foods.)

"All right," says Ellen, and reaches for a fork. Or possibly a spoon. It looks kind of goopy, and she's not sure she trusts the fries not to fall apart on her.

Alyx is just going to grab a small handful of fries and use them as a scoop for the chili. OM NOM NOM.

It's really not that bad, once Ellen gets it into her mouth. It looks weird- kind of reminds her of when she was introduced to pizza- but it's not all that bad. Probably better than half the stuff people around here keep trying to get her to eat.

".... I don't seem to have a napkin," she says after a second or third try. "Have you got any you could spare?"

"Here--" Alyx pushes over a dispenser that was hiding behind the laptop and the mound of onion rings.

"Thank you," says Ellen. "And thank you for the fries. They're pretty good."

Considering Ellen's usual reaction to new food thanks to nineteen years of bland being normal, that's high praise.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only