213 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
213 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
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"The Adventures of Lone Wolf Scientific"
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"The Adventures of Lone Wolf Scientific" is
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an electronically syndicated series that
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follows the exploits of two madcap
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men of high-technology. Copyright
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1991 Michy Peshota. May not be
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distributed without accompanying
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WELCOME.LWS and EPISOD.LWS files.
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----------------------
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EPISODE #1
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The Computer Genius Goes to Work
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>>The worst thing that can happen to a globe-trotting
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computer genius is gainful employment. From a curb outside
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an artificial intelligence company, computer genius S-max
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contemplates the wreckage of his employment history. He
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desperately hopes the rescue mission is properly wired for
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his needs.<<
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By M. Peshota
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The computer genius took a seat on the curb outside the
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artificial intelligence company from which he had just been
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ejected. The reason for his firing this time was that he
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had refused to speak to anyone in the company. He felt that
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this was unfair. He didn't speak to imbeciles. That was
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just the way it was.
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He unfastened the big plastic walkie-talkie that was
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clipped to his belt and started fiddling with it. It was
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his form of whittling. Whenever he had things to think
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about, he took apart his walkie-talkie. If anyone had
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passed by and spotted the bear-sized computer dweeb with the
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ripped sneakers, Moammar Ghaddaffi pout and dark brooding
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eyes, perched on a curb, disembowling a walkie-talkie, they
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would have run for the police. The Chia Pet-like helmet
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that was his hair and that was the shape and color of
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violent explosions on TV from which there are seldom
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survivors would have prompted them to run faster.
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Job loss ordinarily had little effect upon S-max. This
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was because he had more important things to think about than
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how to earn a living. There was neural processing, for
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instance. There was gallium arsenide. There were thrilling
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new video games coming into the stores almost each and
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everyday. (Curiously, none of the computer genius's former
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employers seemed to appreciate one of the most astounding
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traits of his remarkable mind and that was that he
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did his best work after playing seventeen straight hours of
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video games. Equally amazing, most of them insisted that he
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show up for work everyday--as if a computer genius of his
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stunning intellect should have to work everyday!)
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Through the past year, ever since S-max's parents had
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booted him and his myriad of feckless inventions out of the
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house, the computer genius had found it increasingly
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difficult to hold a job. There was the Swedish
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telecommunications firm, for instance, from which he was
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fired for taking indecent liberties with other people's
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geostationary satellites. There was the Nevada chip-maker
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from which he was suspended without pay after parking his
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Chevy with the satellite dish on top in the reserved parking
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spaces of company executives.
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There was the Montana aerospace firm from which he was
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booted after the FBI brought in a computer expert to dump
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over his wastebasket and sort through its contents after he
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had discovered, quite by accident one day, that all it took
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was one directory sort and a liberally applied case of flux
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remover to bring every Defense Department computer network
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crashing to its knees. O, what a tragedy that had been!
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Then there was the Brazilian mini-computer maker. Just
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because the computer genius had disappeared for three months
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with a company inflatable dingy and, upon reappearance, had
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explained that he had been to a DIP switch convention in the
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South Seas, was no reason to leave him out in the jungle for
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six weeks with nothing but a can of pinto beans and a ribbon
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cable.
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Normally, the computer genius couldn't care less when
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he got the pink slip. He took his walkie-talkie and his
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shopping bag full of screwdrivers and shuffled out the door
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with a sniff of indignation. He never looked back. He
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never apologized. If anything, he pitied his former
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employer for its shortsightedness in firing a computer
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genius of his magnificent intellect. This time, however, his
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brusque escort to the artificial intelligence company
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parking lot left him feeling a mite bitter. Maybe it had
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something to do with the fact that it had been less than
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forty-eight hours since he had lost his job at a
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semiconductor manufacturer, he reflected.
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Again, the whole affair had been shockingly unjust.
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Just because the company's Cray-Y-MP-Z80 supercomputer had
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inexplicably vanished one night and its kitschy Naugahyde
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designer seat cushions had been discovered the next day
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stacked atop a file cabinet in the computer genius's office
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(except for one which was found epoxied to his computer
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"prayer stool") was no reason for security guards to hussle
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him to the door and take away his cafeteria pass. It had
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been an enormous blow to his frail ego, especially in light
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of the fact that it had been only three days since he had
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lost his job at a robotics firm for driving a forklift
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through the false floor in the computer room in the
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middle of the night.
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O, why couldn't these people appreciate true genius for
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what it was? Afterall, he was nothing but a man who
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fervently believed that one's creativity should never be
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needlessly hampered by the constraints of responsible
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engineering, moreless responsibility in general.
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S-max grunted indignantly, poking a gnarled transistor
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with a brutish, solder-caked thumb. It would all be
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different, he reflected, jerking a tangle of wires from the
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back of his walkie-talkie with a grunt, if his career as a
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travelling Rubik's Cube pro had turned out differently.
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At first it was heady, travelling from agricultural
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fest to custom car rally, demonstrating to gaping crowds the
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wrist twists and thumb flips that had earned him the
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honorific of "The Rubick's Cube Kid." Despite appearances,
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solving the magic cube was not a talent the computer genius
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had been born with. Indeed not. It was a skill in which he
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had invested hundreds, possibly thousands of hours
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perfecting while in the employ of one dreary high-tech firm
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or another, until finally, he knew that it was a talent he
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could no longer keep to himself and whatever officemates he
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may have at the time, but had a responsibility to share with
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the rest of the world.
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The pinnacle of S-max's Rubik's Cube pro career came
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when he solved the magic cube in a record six seconds while
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parachuting out of an airplane over a meeting of the
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Association of Accumulating Computing Machinery. In his
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"Dinky the Transistor" clown costume, the tatters of his
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parachute streaming behind him like zinnia petals ripped in
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the wind, he crashed through the trees, landed on top a
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picnic table, bounced off a styrofoam model of an old
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Univac, and landed on top a guy in a wizard's cape and hat,
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his "Dinky" costume badly ripped, but his spirits soaring as
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he was lifted into the air by a mob of mothy old computer
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engineers who cheered "Dinky! Dinky!"
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Little did he suspect that just two weeks later, during
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a cuthroat "cube-down" at a zucchini roast in Omaha, he'd be
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badly beaten by a fourteen year old with incredible manual
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dexterity, and would later find himself stranded in an Omaha
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bus station, penniless, despirited, a washed up intellectual
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Olympian with nothing to his name but a dumb plastic cube
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and a suitcase full of Mattel lifetime achievement plaques.
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But the computer genius was not a man to know hard
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times for long. When he saw opportunity, he seized it, and
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that's just what he did when he began selling the four
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million-watt power supplies for personal computers. Now,
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most personal computers have power supplies of only 100 to
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200 watts, most personal computer never need anymore watts
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than that, but the computer genius, inspired by his lifelong
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credo that one's creativity should never be needlessly
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hampered by the restraints of responsible engineering,
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moreless responsibility in general, and realizing how much
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personal computer owners, like fast car afficianadoes, are
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always craving faster speed, more zoom to the metal,
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proceeded to unload truckload after truckload of four
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million-watt computer power supplies upon unsuspecting
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personal computer owners.
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When purchasers wrote to the computer genius asking him
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what they could do with four million watts on their
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motherboards, he responded gleefully: "There are many things
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that you can do with four million watts! You can power
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small industrial plants. You can make inquiries into
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whether any rural communities in your area would like extra
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electricity. You can recharge golf cart batteries for
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yourself and friends. You can start your own radio station.
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Or, you can just add on lots and lots of expansion boards.
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Think of the fun!"
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As with many of S-max's other similar high-tech
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entreprenuerial ventures, it didn't take long for the
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appropriate consumer protection agencies to track down the
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name and face behind the anonymous post office box number.
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Before he knew it, angry-looking men who looked alarmingly
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like Ralph Nader were pounding on his door, demanding
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details of his product's Underwriters Laboratories tests.
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The computer genius barely escaped with his life. He fled
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to Cincinnati where he laid low for a while, selling
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integrated circuit test clips under a variety of aliases and
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living in a secret, concealed room above a Snookey's Parts
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Shack store.
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S-max clipped his now reassembled walkie-talkie back
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onto his belt and contemplated the decline of western
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technology as evidenced by the horrible fact that no one
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cared to keep him in their employ for very long. You can
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be sure this would not be the state of affairs in Japan,
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he grunted to himself. In Japan, computer companies would
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doubtless be falling all over themselves trying to hire and
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retain an employee with the unvarnished Yankee ingenuity of
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S-max. Why, they would probably even offer to keep him in
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miniature digital clocks for the rest of his natural days,
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that's how grateful they would be for his novel approaches
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to computer engineering.
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S-max got up from the curb and dusted himself off. It
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had occurred to him that the withered and decomposing form
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of a computer genius lying in the gutter would not look
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pretty and might even deter impressionable youth from
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entering the exciting world of high-technology should they
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happen to pass by. And he certainly didn't want that to
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happen.
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As the computer genius shuffled down the street, he
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fervently hoped that the rescue mission to which he was
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headed was properly wired for his needs.
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<Finis>
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>>>In the next episode, "The Second Renaissance of Space
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Exploration Technology and What Happened to It," S-max has a
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soulmate in the making. Tune in then.<<<
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