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Circular Logic
Jan. 27th, 2006 08:22 amBelson frowned.
"And *I* say, you're an idiot," he declared, folding his arms.
I rubbed my temples. I felt like I had been having this argument for hours. Belson is tedious under the best of conditions, and these were not the best of conditions. The air conditioning in the lab had been turned off hours ago since it was well past regular operating hours, and I was sweating freely.
"Look," I said wearily, "there's no point in getting all hostile. It's getting late and we're no closer to figuring out what went wrong. Let's just go over the situation once more and see if something turns up."
"We've been all through everything already!" yelled Belson, glaring around the test rig in exasperation. "The power supply is fine. The field generator's lights are all green. The control module is up and active. We should be warping spacetime within the containment field."
I nodded. "So perhaps it's a detector problem?"
"There is *nothing* wrong with my detector," insisted Belson defensively. "I slaved over that thing for six years at the university -- poured my life into it. I guarantee you, if there's the slightest ripple in the spacetime continuum, my detector will pick it up. I'd stake my life on it!"
"Well, maybe you have," I growled. "This is dangerous stuff we're working with here. If something were to go wrong with the field tuning...."
"I know, I know," dismissed Belson. "We could create a wormhole, or generate a Moebius temporal loop, or...."
"...destroy the universe?" I finished. "I think we'd know if that were happening, with or without the detector. We'd be, you know, being destroyed."
"That's the part I don't get," complained Belson, scratching his head. "I know there's something off with the containment field generator, but I'm not sure what. The diagnostics all check out, but it's not making that same buzzing noise it usually does. If the computer weren't saying everything is nominal, I wouldn't even know the field is on at all."
"You mean we could be warping spacetime outside the containment field?" I yelped. "That sounds very, very bad, Belson."
"Relax," Belson soothed. "My detector would tell us if anything like that were happening."
"You and your stupid detector," I grumbled. "You won't let me run any tests on it; you won't even tell me how to run it."
"That's because it's mine," Belson retorted hotly. "It's proprietary. I agreed to team up with you on this experiment, not hand you the blueprints to my life's work."
"Your childishness is endangering our funding!" I shouted. "We're supposed to show some results by tomorrow morning, Belson, and we have nothing! Five months and twelve million dollars, and we have absolutely nothing to show for it!" I kicked the black box that housed Belson's detector. "I still say, your detector isn't worth crap."
Belson frowned.
"And *I* say, you're an idiot," he declared, folding his arms.
"And *I* say, you're an idiot," he declared, folding his arms.
I rubbed my temples. I felt like I had been having this argument for hours. Belson is tedious under the best of conditions, and these were not the best of conditions. The air conditioning in the lab had been turned off hours ago since it was well past regular operating hours, and I was sweating freely.
"Look," I said wearily, "there's no point in getting all hostile. It's getting late and we're no closer to figuring out what went wrong. Let's just go over the situation once more and see if something turns up."
"We've been all through everything already!" yelled Belson, glaring around the test rig in exasperation. "The power supply is fine. The field generator's lights are all green. The control module is up and active. We should be warping spacetime within the containment field."
I nodded. "So perhaps it's a detector problem?"
"There is *nothing* wrong with my detector," insisted Belson defensively. "I slaved over that thing for six years at the university -- poured my life into it. I guarantee you, if there's the slightest ripple in the spacetime continuum, my detector will pick it up. I'd stake my life on it!"
"Well, maybe you have," I growled. "This is dangerous stuff we're working with here. If something were to go wrong with the field tuning...."
"I know, I know," dismissed Belson. "We could create a wormhole, or generate a Moebius temporal loop, or...."
"...destroy the universe?" I finished. "I think we'd know if that were happening, with or without the detector. We'd be, you know, being destroyed."
"That's the part I don't get," complained Belson, scratching his head. "I know there's something off with the containment field generator, but I'm not sure what. The diagnostics all check out, but it's not making that same buzzing noise it usually does. If the computer weren't saying everything is nominal, I wouldn't even know the field is on at all."
"You mean we could be warping spacetime outside the containment field?" I yelped. "That sounds very, very bad, Belson."
"Relax," Belson soothed. "My detector would tell us if anything like that were happening."
"You and your stupid detector," I grumbled. "You won't let me run any tests on it; you won't even tell me how to run it."
"That's because it's mine," Belson retorted hotly. "It's proprietary. I agreed to team up with you on this experiment, not hand you the blueprints to my life's work."
"Your childishness is endangering our funding!" I shouted. "We're supposed to show some results by tomorrow morning, Belson, and we have nothing! Five months and twelve million dollars, and we have absolutely nothing to show for it!" I kicked the black box that housed Belson's detector. "I still say, your detector isn't worth crap."
Belson frowned.
"And *I* say, you're an idiot," he declared, folding his arms.
