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Jul. 6th, 2006 04:11 pmRay's brain, for all that it was effectively cross-wired six ways from Sunday, occasionally found itself as overwhelmed as anyone else's brain. Actually, that wasn't entirely true; the brain was just fine with the amount of processing it had to do. It was the psyche concerned that occasionally got overwhelmed.
Like any other living system, though, the psyche had evolved defense mechanisms and safety valves. One of those defenses, probably the most commonly used one, was a steadfast unwillingness to think about excessively emotionally charged matters, but to spend the energy that would have gone into considering them on work instead. A great deal of energy could be used up that way, and a hell of a lot could get done.
Another, probably healthier, defense mechanism was a mild sort of time-delay. Really overwhelming stuff could be easily faced if the full understanding of its overwhelmingness was postponed- put off for a day or two, left for later, when the crisis was past. The delayed heebiejeebies made for some entertaining afternoons around the Firehouse (entertaining as long as you weren't Ray, anyway). And really, they were harmless. Everything would get dealt with in its time, when it was safe and sane to do so.
The most powerful of Ray's mental defenses was another matter entirely. It was nothing he himself had ever devised, nothing he evolved on his own; it was, as it were, inborn in the human race. No psychiatrist would ever acknowledge it, but at least one author had, and so the best term for it was Lovecraft's Mercy: a species-wide inability to really understand the full implications and interrelations of everything known.
There was, however, a problem. Any system- every system- has a limit to how much it can do. Urban legend has it that sewage systems of major cities have broken due to the tremendous number of toilets being flushed simultaneously at Super Bowl halftime.
This was like that.
"Correct the dimensional underpinnings. We're the balm."
It occurred to Ray, as he set the holcomputer's Beam model display to spinning slowly, that by successfully accurately rendering a nineteen-dimensional concept into a three-dimensional model, he had done what mathematicians the world over had previously failed to do. Not that it was really all that much of an accomplishment by their standards, he figured. They were working on theory, after all. They didn't have the proof of their equations available in the physical world. They'd have hit on the right numbers long ago if they were working from direct observation instead of inference and guess.
( In the beginning there was the cold and the night / Prophets and angels gave us the fire and the light )
Not that he was actually looking at one of the Beams, of course. Just the diagrams of the generator's schematics, Ages without number after the fact.
( Man was triumphant / Armed with the faith and the will / Even the darkest ages couldn't kill )
Just documents that no living human being had ever had to work from before. Yeah. He- yeah.
It wasn't like he hadn't done this sort of thing before, though, right? He'd- well, he'd built the PKE beacon, and Eddie himself had said that was the same sort of principle. Everyone knew about the doctrine of the collective unconscious; it wasn't all that peculiar to hit on the same sort of idea to solve the same sort of problem as someone who'd died long before, right? Happened all the time.
Granted, you didn't usually see that knowledge put to the service of saving-
(the world, the galaxy, the galactic cluster, the local universe, existence as we know it)
-but still! It happened. There was nothing weird about it.
( There will be miracles / After the last war is won / Science and poetry rule in the new world to come / Prophets and angels / Gave us the power to see / What an amazing future there will be )
He just had to make it work. And he could do that, right? He had River's help, and Egon's, and if he couldn't do it with their help, well, who could? They'd manage. Lord knew he and Spengs had done the impossible a dozen times before at the very least.
"That's going to raise one hundred kinds of hell. We can not lose the Time Lords. They're one of the linch pins."
The impossible. Yeah.
( I took the turn and turned to / begin a new beginning / still looking for the answer / I cannot find the finish )
He poked half-heartedly at one of the subsets of the generation station's fluctuation-tempering machinery, easing the pieces apart for a better look at the intermeshing faces (such as they were- that particular part of the Beam generator existed in a kind of half-space possible only through the extensive use of eleven inwardly-collapsed dimensions, and it didn't look quite right modeled in toothpicks and gum). Eddie was going to need this rendered in as much detail as possible. The maintenance had failed there so long ago that Devonian, jawless things would say 'ooh, that was a while back, wasn't it'. The right parts were absolutely vital.
"It was about respect. The Time Lords were serious people taking care of serious things. You didn't get in the way of that."
Good thing they were going to turn this bad boy and all its compadres off, because the maintenance going forward was entirely beyond the scope of his ability-
"K, tell me something. What does TARDIS stand for?"
Oh, God and Tesla together, what was he doing? He was one man! He was one lousy engineer, one perfectly ordinary double-doctorate parapsychologist with a talking car and a robot dog and a life full of slime and New Yorkers and he was doing what, now? And this- this-
Your world has a hole burned in it, forever, and you can point to when and where and why and how. And you're training up successors to deal with what might come through that hole, if you can't get it patched up during your lifetime- are you LISTENING to yourself? HOLE. IN THE WORLD. BIG GIANT HOLE IN THE FABRIC OF EXISTENCE. And you're trying to fix it.
He shivered and turned all his attention to the model floating in front of him, willing it to take all his attention.
( I walk the maze of moments / but everywhere I turn to / begins a new beginning / but never finds a finish )
It didn't.
( / I walk to the horizon / and there I find another )
He was working with a portion of the generator that had briefly excited him when he'd figured out what he was looking at, because its dimensions ran 1:4:9:16:25:36. Six dimensions. Simple as pie, compared to the rest. Heck, that was- that was less than he needed to build that bigger-on-the-inside box-
-Romana had said once that at the rate he was accumulating experiments and books he'd need his own TARDIS to hold it all-
( if the sky can crack there must be some way back )
-you couldn't just let a hole in the universe like the loss of the Time Lords go unplugged, God only knew what would jump into it, the Hounds of Tindalos might've been meant as some sort of safeguard once but he was looking at what happened when safeguards went rotten-
( in dreams begin responsibilities )
If he had a little time, a few resources, a safe place to build the model and then experiment and work upwards he could probably manage it, fiddling with jumping through four dimensions couldn't be that hard compared to the Beam devices- oh, sure, he'd have to figure out how to do it safely and how to get other people to do it safely and then he'd have to learn what needed doing and what needed not doing, and so would everyone else involved, but-
( Welcome to your life / There's no turning back )
Since I started in this job I've miniaturized nuclear accelerators and helped build some of the most power-efficient cells known to human science. I've proved the existence of the supernatural and life after death. I've spoken with entities that could melt men's faces off. I've been to other planets, and I've been to Earth's past. I've been kidnapped by my own government. I've been in hand-to-hand combat with otherworldly things that wanted to rip me apart. I've blown up aliens. (I've proposed to an alien.) I've given a man's spirit the way back to life, although he had to walk it himself. I've seen and been and done-
(You have to learn to pace yourself / You're just like everybody else / You've only had to run so far / So good / But you will come to a place / Where the only thing you feel / Are loaded guns in your face )
-and now I'm seriously proposing to begin the process of replacing the lost work of a civilization older than sentience on my planet, not once but twice-
( And in the evening / After the fire and the light / One thing is certain: Nothing can hold back the night )
A lone human being- one lone sentient mind of any species, really, but for our purposes we shall stick to a lone human being- is the smallest of dots perched precariously upon the back of the smallest of dots in an infinite sea of dottery when viewed in comparison to the entire universe. Ray Stantz knew this. The universe knew this. It had always been that way; the understanding was unspoken, and therefore unquestioned.
( at the still point of destruction / at the centre of the fury )
But now, just now... well, just now it felt as if all the other dots were looking at him.
( all the angels, all the devils )
As if something huge and rumbling and powerful were whooshing by meters and meters overhead and he were only just seeing it for the first time.
( all around us, can't you see )
And it was looking back at him and saying:
( this is our last dance / this is our last dance / this is ourselves )
Hello, little ant.
( I say the tragedy is how you're gonna spend / the rest of your nights with the light on )
. . . He was pretty sure gaining perspective on your place in the Universe wasn't supposed to work like that.
( I hold the line - the line of strength that pulls me through the fear / San Jacinto - I hold the line / San Jacinto - the poison bite and darkness take my sight - / I hold the line )
( We will walk - on the land
We will breathe - of the air
We will drink - from the stream
We will live - hold the line... )
Like any other living system, though, the psyche had evolved defense mechanisms and safety valves. One of those defenses, probably the most commonly used one, was a steadfast unwillingness to think about excessively emotionally charged matters, but to spend the energy that would have gone into considering them on work instead. A great deal of energy could be used up that way, and a hell of a lot could get done.
Another, probably healthier, defense mechanism was a mild sort of time-delay. Really overwhelming stuff could be easily faced if the full understanding of its overwhelmingness was postponed- put off for a day or two, left for later, when the crisis was past. The delayed heebiejeebies made for some entertaining afternoons around the Firehouse (entertaining as long as you weren't Ray, anyway). And really, they were harmless. Everything would get dealt with in its time, when it was safe and sane to do so.
The most powerful of Ray's mental defenses was another matter entirely. It was nothing he himself had ever devised, nothing he evolved on his own; it was, as it were, inborn in the human race. No psychiatrist would ever acknowledge it, but at least one author had, and so the best term for it was Lovecraft's Mercy: a species-wide inability to really understand the full implications and interrelations of everything known.
There was, however, a problem. Any system- every system- has a limit to how much it can do. Urban legend has it that sewage systems of major cities have broken due to the tremendous number of toilets being flushed simultaneously at Super Bowl halftime.
This was like that.
"Correct the dimensional underpinnings. We're the balm."
It occurred to Ray, as he set the holcomputer's Beam model display to spinning slowly, that by successfully accurately rendering a nineteen-dimensional concept into a three-dimensional model, he had done what mathematicians the world over had previously failed to do. Not that it was really all that much of an accomplishment by their standards, he figured. They were working on theory, after all. They didn't have the proof of their equations available in the physical world. They'd have hit on the right numbers long ago if they were working from direct observation instead of inference and guess.
( In the beginning there was the cold and the night / Prophets and angels gave us the fire and the light )
Not that he was actually looking at one of the Beams, of course. Just the diagrams of the generator's schematics, Ages without number after the fact.
( Man was triumphant / Armed with the faith and the will / Even the darkest ages couldn't kill )
Just documents that no living human being had ever had to work from before. Yeah. He- yeah.
It wasn't like he hadn't done this sort of thing before, though, right? He'd- well, he'd built the PKE beacon, and Eddie himself had said that was the same sort of principle. Everyone knew about the doctrine of the collective unconscious; it wasn't all that peculiar to hit on the same sort of idea to solve the same sort of problem as someone who'd died long before, right? Happened all the time.
Granted, you didn't usually see that knowledge put to the service of saving-
(the world, the galaxy, the galactic cluster, the local universe, existence as we know it)
-but still! It happened. There was nothing weird about it.
( There will be miracles / After the last war is won / Science and poetry rule in the new world to come / Prophets and angels / Gave us the power to see / What an amazing future there will be )
He just had to make it work. And he could do that, right? He had River's help, and Egon's, and if he couldn't do it with their help, well, who could? They'd manage. Lord knew he and Spengs had done the impossible a dozen times before at the very least.
"That's going to raise one hundred kinds of hell. We can not lose the Time Lords. They're one of the linch pins."
The impossible. Yeah.
( I took the turn and turned to / begin a new beginning / still looking for the answer / I cannot find the finish )
He poked half-heartedly at one of the subsets of the generation station's fluctuation-tempering machinery, easing the pieces apart for a better look at the intermeshing faces (such as they were- that particular part of the Beam generator existed in a kind of half-space possible only through the extensive use of eleven inwardly-collapsed dimensions, and it didn't look quite right modeled in toothpicks and gum). Eddie was going to need this rendered in as much detail as possible. The maintenance had failed there so long ago that Devonian, jawless things would say 'ooh, that was a while back, wasn't it'. The right parts were absolutely vital.
"It was about respect. The Time Lords were serious people taking care of serious things. You didn't get in the way of that."
Good thing they were going to turn this bad boy and all its compadres off, because the maintenance going forward was entirely beyond the scope of his ability-
"K, tell me something. What does TARDIS stand for?"
Oh, God and Tesla together, what was he doing? He was one man! He was one lousy engineer, one perfectly ordinary double-doctorate parapsychologist with a talking car and a robot dog and a life full of slime and New Yorkers and he was doing what, now? And this- this-
Your world has a hole burned in it, forever, and you can point to when and where and why and how. And you're training up successors to deal with what might come through that hole, if you can't get it patched up during your lifetime- are you LISTENING to yourself? HOLE. IN THE WORLD. BIG GIANT HOLE IN THE FABRIC OF EXISTENCE. And you're trying to fix it.
He shivered and turned all his attention to the model floating in front of him, willing it to take all his attention.
( I walk the maze of moments / but everywhere I turn to / begins a new beginning / but never finds a finish )
It didn't.
( / I walk to the horizon / and there I find another )
He was working with a portion of the generator that had briefly excited him when he'd figured out what he was looking at, because its dimensions ran 1:4:9:16:25:36. Six dimensions. Simple as pie, compared to the rest. Heck, that was- that was less than he needed to build that bigger-on-the-inside box-
-Romana had said once that at the rate he was accumulating experiments and books he'd need his own TARDIS to hold it all-
( if the sky can crack there must be some way back )
-you couldn't just let a hole in the universe like the loss of the Time Lords go unplugged, God only knew what would jump into it, the Hounds of Tindalos might've been meant as some sort of safeguard once but he was looking at what happened when safeguards went rotten-
( in dreams begin responsibilities )
If he had a little time, a few resources, a safe place to build the model and then experiment and work upwards he could probably manage it, fiddling with jumping through four dimensions couldn't be that hard compared to the Beam devices- oh, sure, he'd have to figure out how to do it safely and how to get other people to do it safely and then he'd have to learn what needed doing and what needed not doing, and so would everyone else involved, but-
( Welcome to your life / There's no turning back )
Since I started in this job I've miniaturized nuclear accelerators and helped build some of the most power-efficient cells known to human science. I've proved the existence of the supernatural and life after death. I've spoken with entities that could melt men's faces off. I've been to other planets, and I've been to Earth's past. I've been kidnapped by my own government. I've been in hand-to-hand combat with otherworldly things that wanted to rip me apart. I've blown up aliens. (I've proposed to an alien.) I've given a man's spirit the way back to life, although he had to walk it himself. I've seen and been and done-
(You have to learn to pace yourself / You're just like everybody else / You've only had to run so far / So good / But you will come to a place / Where the only thing you feel / Are loaded guns in your face )
-and now I'm seriously proposing to begin the process of replacing the lost work of a civilization older than sentience on my planet, not once but twice-
( And in the evening / After the fire and the light / One thing is certain: Nothing can hold back the night )
A lone human being- one lone sentient mind of any species, really, but for our purposes we shall stick to a lone human being- is the smallest of dots perched precariously upon the back of the smallest of dots in an infinite sea of dottery when viewed in comparison to the entire universe. Ray Stantz knew this. The universe knew this. It had always been that way; the understanding was unspoken, and therefore unquestioned.
( at the still point of destruction / at the centre of the fury )
But now, just now... well, just now it felt as if all the other dots were looking at him.
( all the angels, all the devils )
As if something huge and rumbling and powerful were whooshing by meters and meters overhead and he were only just seeing it for the first time.
( all around us, can't you see )
And it was looking back at him and saying:
( this is our last dance / this is our last dance / this is ourselves )
Hello, little ant.
( I say the tragedy is how you're gonna spend / the rest of your nights with the light on )
. . . He was pretty sure gaining perspective on your place in the Universe wasn't supposed to work like that.
( I hold the line - the line of strength that pulls me through the fear / San Jacinto - I hold the line / San Jacinto - the poison bite and darkness take my sight - / I hold the line )
( We will walk - on the land
We will breathe - of the air
We will drink - from the stream
We will live - hold the line... )
