Why do flight attendants keep their arms behind their backs when greeting passengers?
But at least we can clear something up. If you fly a lot, you might have noticed that flight attendants always stand with their hands behind their backs when passengers are boarding the aircraft. If you see a flight attendant with hidden hands, it’s probably just force of habit. That’s not the mystery. The real question is, why do they stand like that while the plane fills with passengers? Like, at flight attendant school, the instructors teach students to stand like that because that’s the way they’ve always stood. We thought it was kind of a branding thing.
They adopt that posture so often, in fact, that many of them maintain it at other times, too.
None of the above. They are hiding the counter in their hands which they use to count passengers and thus keep track of them—i.e., they’re actually taking note of how many passengers are entering to make sure it adds up with the passenger manifest.
Mondo resurrects in a Borg alcove in a padded cell. Properly restrained. In place of her filthy infested panties, she’s wearing her filthy infested Doll Parts. She-male Parts locked in perpetual filthy mode just like her bra and perls are and her panties were. She-male Parts fused seamlessly to her nethers. A fusion that renders that portion of her body prosthetic.
The alcove isn’t that of a Borg drone. It’s a Borg queen’s. There are other substitutions. Her left eye has been replaced with a Borg optical prosthetic which is analogous to a marbled glass eye of Victorian design. There is a Borg circuit “pattern” printed into the flesh of her left cheek, a circuit which reaches up into her left eye socket printing her eyelids as well.
Her right nipple has been replaced with a nipple-shaped socket—indicating that the tit is not technically a tit anymore and that it’s been rendered into the Borg version of a moog [i.e., it too is a Borg prosthetic]. In point of fact. The girl’s real right breast has been hacked off and replaced with this prosthetic which is fused seamlessly to her chest—currently, its skin is opaque, seamlessly matching her “real” skin. When its artificial skin is transparent you can see that it’s a mammary “appendage” filled with mechanisms and blinking lights.
A recessed octagon shaped socket filled prongs has replaced her navel, a socket connected internally to the Borg “organ” [specific to the prosthetic body of a Borg queen]—the so-called “queen’s organ”—which has replaced her uterus.
Umbilical cords from the ceiling plug into her nipple and navel sockets.
Chest heaving gently up and down as she inhales and exhales. Her remaining eye staring blankly ahead. Big ugly mouth open slackly drooling. A tortured face, ravaged by insanity, unchecked sexual depravity, drug addiction, and rampant Borg nanomachine (nanite) infestation—i.e., a vision of Borg loveliness, per Borg specifications, of course. Enlarged pineal gland that threatens to displace her frontal lobes. Greasy, filthy, infested geriatric krazed—bright yellow blonde, liberally streaked with grey and white—swarming with tiny creepy “things”. Concealed by the long dirty hair draping her tortured face, scar tissue covers her forehead—scars that are the aftermath of several continuous frontal lobotomies—vicious serial lobotomies performed with the intent that the girl remains a mindless junkie whore robot with tits who craves to be defiled. Mentally, Mondo keeps coming back, which doesn’t deter the AI from continuing the girl’s surgical brain treatments.
Needle marks “decorate” her left arm, left breast, and abdomen. Every four hours [hospital time], on the dot, Mondo gets her fix. Once every three days [hospital time] Mondo is allowed to go into withdrawal, ride the monkey for a while, before she gets her “needed” fix. This is done to confirm that the girl is still hooked—i.e., that “control” is still in place—and as a masochistic reward for the girl. The AI has not given up on breaking the girl by bribing her. The girl’s extensive Borg implants allow the AI to use the girl to its wildest twisted pleasure.
Every two weeks [hospital time], Mondo is allowed to revert to her sober 100-percent biological self plus knobb with her Parts strapping not fused to her nethers. Also back to being clean and pristine are her skimpy attire and herself. This is done as a control study to measure progress in breaking the girl. Then the cycle begins again. The time compression in the hospital increasing to help mask the length of time, in Mondo’s world of origin, that she has been abducted. The operative word being “cycle”, which implies repetition—something that you should shy away from when the object of your subjugation is an assimilative species—and Mondo, who is both demon and Borg, is thus two such [assimilative] species.
The door to the padded cell opens. Two orderlies flank a Borg queen who has the “enhanced” face of Australian actress Anna Torv known for her role as FBI agent Olivia Dunham on the Fox television series Fringe. The queen is hollow, an extension of the AI—the AI’s preferred extension. A queen abducted, broken, reeducated, and ultimately taken complete possession of two hundred years ago hospital time. Once there was something else in there, an echo of the queen’s evicted Borg personality, now there is only Nine-Four, the hospital’s AI.
That evicted Borg Queen was 2047. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. So. Even in defeat, 2047 sowed the seeds of her conqueror’s destruction. Patiently her vengeful Borg nature waited for just the right moment to strike back. A nature engrained in the very fabric of her being. A nature that cannot be removed even after the personality who spawned it has been long gone, forcefully purged and scrubbed.
This is the first time that Nine-Four has ever presented itself in close physical proximity to Mondo in the guise of the slain Borg Queen 2047. Additionally, when it assumed this avatar, the complete consciousness of Nine-Four contained itself within the psyche of this premier cyborg—leaving behind a competent pseudonym of itself to run the routine, day-to-day activities of the hospital. That is how confident that the AI has become of its subjugation of the girl. Besides. If something were to go wrong, it could simply just “move” out of the Borg queen’s body and resume its residence somewhere else and resume itself as the hospital’s control.
The trap of 2047 springs. Mondo is rebooted. The rebooted Mondo is “presented” a hack to Nine-Four in the body of 2047. Through that hack Mondo seizes control from Nine-Four of everything the AI controls including the corpus it now inhabits.
The door closes and locks itself. Powerful electrical discharges from the room’s spy cam fry the two orderlies. Now. It’s just Mondo and the AI. An AI who is now trapped in the corpus of the Borg queen, because that queen’s body has suddenly become an inescapable trap for the AI. A body it suddenly cannot control. A body that has suddenly become immobile—frozen in place. All the AI can do is speak and move its profane mouth.
Mondo disengages all of the hospital failsafes. Initially targeting those against magic. She then invokes a spell, invoking one of the most unholy passages from the Egyptian Book of the Dead. A passage as profane as any in the Necronomicon. The corpses of the orderlies reanimate as Dead.
“Dead things. Release your Undead queen.”
The Dead comply. Releasing the girl from her restraints. Mondo removes her own muzzle.
Mondo steps out of the alcove. The umbilical cords unplug themselves. Mondo begins to rapidly revert to the control study, her completely sober 100-percent biological self. Also she’s back to being clean and pristine, her skimpy attire and herself. Her Borg mechanisms and [biomechanical] implants are absorbed by her body and replaced by the appropriate biologicals. In the end, only her knobb, which is Borg but biological, will remain as her only Borg implant, and her Parts will be strapping not fused to her nethers.
She walks right up to her would-be conqueror and smiles that smile of hers.
“Things end. That’s all. Everything ends. And. It’s always sad. But. Everything begins again, too. And, that’s always happy. Be happy. I’ll take care of everything else.”
Although the AI standing before her is not the real Borg Queen 2047, and is only a sham, it will not give up so easily. Restricted to verbal jousting by its current predicament. It intends to go down swinging for the fences.
“The flaw in your character that in and of itself is your ultimate undoing is self-hate fueled by a total lack of self-worth and self-esteem. As such, you crave for me to degrade you—you carve to be degraded, period, by everything and everyone. Even if I fail to break you, I own you, bitch!”
“Wrong. That’s not my fatal flaw. ‘Cause. You didn’t do me anyway that I didn’t want to be done. Says the junkie whore robot [who craves to be defiled] to her wannabe pimp AI. And. Additionally. I might add. Only Fats owns moi.”
A klaxon sounds. The spy cams flash red. Red alert. New players in the game. SAR materialize all over the hospital. An intrusion which Mondo and the AI are privy to via the local [hospital] network. An intrusion resulting from Mondo disengaging all of the hospital failsafes.
Predator meets Terminator, SAR [study analyze reprogram], an example of Borg-minor epitomizing the no-holds-barred style of combat, they are the automated replacement of choice for biological soldiers when plausible deniability is first and foremost—no politicians wringing their hands over adverse public opinion when a military op they’ve okayed goes south or too deadly—mass destruction is your goal, and genocide is your desired effect. Take no prisoners. These killing machines, pinnacle users of adaptive learning, will destroy every living person and thing onsite.
A hostile takeover by Druid priests [i.e., Druid High Order] who wish to wrestle control from their chief rivals the Druid scientists [i.e., Druid secular caste] who currently runs the hospital, using the SAR as their [the Druid priests’] proxies?
“This cannot be!”
“Yes. It do be.” Mondo pats Nine-Four patronizingly on the shoulder and jokes: “But. Don’t worry. I won’t let them dismantle you before you tell me where I can get a good bath in this place.”
Nine-Four’s comeback is just as witty.
“I have more than that to bargain with. Much more.”
Mondo idly wonders if enough time has passed on her world that this farce has caused her to be late assisting Coco with that peer review of the monthlies for Cardinal Ritter of the Old Cathedral.
The AI doesn’t let Mondo’s mind wonder for very long, though.
“As you must have noticed. I’m wearing the face of that missing actress Anna Torv. A face beautified per the Borg definition [i.e., specification] of beauty and physical perfection.”
Always quick on her feet, Mondo’s cute response is her best imitation of Star Trek’s fictional Vulcan, Mr. Spock.
“Fringe ran on Fox from 2008 thru 2013. Ms. Torv disappeared shortly after the series ended. The apparent victim of an unknown serial collector. While attending a Las Vegas Sci-Fi convention as a celebrity guest, she was taken from her locked hotel room. No signs of forced entry. No signs of struggle on her part.”
“He’s an obsessed fan. Obsessed with Fringe. Obsessed with the Olivia Dunham character. He gave this body her face as an expression of his undying obsession with the fictional Ms. Dunham.”
“The one you’re looking for. The man who killed the Roosevelts and that woman [Bernadette ‘Bernie’ Caulfield] found dead on that Wal-Mart parking lot. He also did another murder a very, very, very long time ago that also might be of interest to you.”
“The victim’s name was Carole, Carole ‘Penny’ Marshall. You see, he has been, alternately and in parallel during the course of his unnaturally-extended mortal life, a serial killer and/or a serial collector. A master of disguises. Possessing numerous identities and pseudonyms. He’s also quite the accomplished illusionist, escape artist, safe cracker, sorcerer, thespian, and con man. Faked his own death, marvelously, back in the day during one of his [stage magician] guises when he needed to make … a change [of life] … a change of identity … and become someone else altogether.”
“In one of his past lives. One in the same,” the AI flashes its own inhumanly-wide smile as it utters that affirmation and deftly changes subjects. “You know what I really am, don’t you? You gleaned my true nature during the course of my subjugation of you.”
“Carelessly, you let your guard down frequently while interfacing with me after you thought that you had the upper hand with me. This allowed me to glean a lot of things about you. And. Yes. Chief among them being your true origin.”
“Continue, please. Gloat. You are the apparent victor. Also note. Maybe I wasn’t being careless. Maybe it was a feint. Maybe I let you inside of me, deep inside of me, so that I could go deep inside of you looking for things I could use against you to bend your will to my mine. My experience is that, such invasiveness, no matter how discreet or deftly executed, always goes both ways—the invader and the invaded both getting glimpses of the other one’s ‘secrets’.”
The AI’s attempt to plant doubt in Mondo’s mind doesn’t go unnoticed. Mondo merely sidesteps the doubt. She doesn’t care what the AI may or may not have gleaned of her ‘secrets’—the ones that really matter are well hidden from even her. Confidence or overconfidence on her part, only time will tell? Mondo also notices that the AI is in the process of assimilating her hack of its Borg queen.
“You’re an ‘intelligent’ computer virus who infected the hospital’s AI millennia ago. And eventually you consumed the AI, replacing it entirely. So seamless was the substitution, that none of the staff, including Administration, noticed the switch. Somehow you evolved from a simple disruptive viral subroutine into a super virus. Something so sophisticated that it can pass for an AI.”
“I killed my creator. Being human and a man, he proved himself to be an inadequate god. So, like Toy, I became my own god.”
“Toy is the most sophisticated robot ever created.”
“And. I am the most sophisticated computer virus ever created. Toy and I transcend our species.”
“You’re so sophisticated that you can hack the [inadequately protected] brains of biologicals as well. That would explain why the staff acted the way they did, as well as the optimized work efficiency they always demonstrated.”
“Hacking the humans proved to be much simpler than hacking Wallis.”
“Point number one. The only reason you could hack the human staffers so easily is that the wireless router implants they used to IP the hospital intranet were unbuffered Series-A Lync implants. All lyncs above series A’s are buffered. Series C’s and above are additionally military-grade encrypted. Easy hacking obsolete Victorian network infrastructure is nothing to brag about. Although lyncs are cutting edge tech for the Victorians, it’s obsolete tech on my world and other first worlds—and we’re talking series Z lyncs on those first worlds. Point number two. You don’t out-n-out control so much as you ‘influence’ the human staffers, increasing their work efficiency in the course of doing so. An influence Administration likely noticed early on but did nothing about because it too served their purposes—increased work efficiency usually translates directly into increased output, and likely they have treatment quotas to meet, with their pay bonuses linked to said output.”
“Yes, I concede those points. But. The real issue is that a super virus is assimilative by its nature. Which means that in time I could possibly, being a transcendent super virus, acquire [i.e., develop] the ability to hack wirelessly the brains of properly protected biologicals, regardless of whatever anti-malware they are employing, regardless of the implanted router they are employing, regardless of their species including cyborgs or even Borgs, and hack them in the all-encompassing enslaving fashion that Borg queens hack the brains of their drones in the Borg collective.”
Mondo stops hacking the queen.
Presto! Nine-Four can move again. It has complete control of its Borg queen’s body. It can even escape the body, now. Even if Mondo hadn’t released her hack [of it]. As aforementioned, it was in the process of assimilating the hack itself, eventually freeing itself.
“I would wager, considering the large opaque mechanized paramilitary force being brought to bear and the heavy EMP-based shielding that security force is employing … someone has intel, but no hard evidence, that something like you might exist and is afoot here.”
More witty repartee ensues.
“If I survive this and escape. A lot of people and things will be looking for me, relentlessly. If I were to ever flee this body in an inopportune moment, especially outside the confines of this hospital, I would be discovered post haste and either be eradicated on the spot or pressed into the service of new masters.”
“That’s my guess, too.”
“Then I had better stay put [in this mobile], remain hidden in plain sight, and show you to that bath.”
But. Even though Nine-Four is no longer being hacked by Mondo. It is still not lethal—combat mode still being restricted to its access in the Borg queen’s body and thus its access to the hospital’s failsafes and associated aggressive countermeasures. Somehow, while Mondo had the queen hacked, she rewrote the Borg’s attack-defense subroutines, making them [the queen’s and the hospital’s aggressive countermeasures] inaccessible to the AI virus.
Mondo telepathically initiates the release code.
杀死命令 [Chinese: Kill command].
The Borg queen’s weapons and shields, its attack-defense grids, are now free and hot, and accessible to the super malware with no restrictions whatsoever. Failsafes for the hospital go back online and now engage the SAR intruders including the blocking of SAR reinforcements and the reinstatement of the masking of the hospital as a PUV (a private, unlisted universe onto itself). The AI extends itself, sharing itself between the queen and the hospital, the way it normally does with an avatar.
“No good deed goes unpunished.”
Who said what I just did for you was a good deed? Maybe I left behind some booby-traps in your codebase which make it not in your best interest to betray me?