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See 4-D Space With 3-D Glasses
purpleant writes: "A hyperplane is a 3-dimensional space that slices through the 4-dimensional space, the same way a 2-dimensional plane can slice through our 3-dimensional space. The bounding hyperplanes can be extended infinitely so that they criss-cross through each other, chopping up hyperspace into many 4-dimensional 'chunks.' Again the inner chunks are finite, and they are distributed in shells around the core polytope. The
HyperStar applet displays those finite chunks, one shell at a time. The inner shells are complete -- each shell completely encases the previous shell. The outermost shells have holes in them."
Eat it up you fucking geeks!
Psycadelic baby!
From http://www.reactorcritical.com/#l1205
In Quake III Arena in 1280x1024 with 4x FSAA enabled, NV30 is going to be 2.5 times faster than the GeForce4 Ti4600.
In The Next Doom the board based on NV30 will be able to show 3.5 times or or even more of the performance the current Nvidia`s flagman has to offer us there.
NV30 will score three times more than the GeForce4 Ti4600 in 3D Mark 2001.
Effective HQ Pixel Fillrate (2x anisotropic filtering enabled) of the newcomer with will be about 2.7 times more than that of the fastest NV25.
As for pixel-shading speed, it will be 4 times of the NV25.
... too bad I don't really have a clue what it means. *sigh* I guess this is why I'm not majoring in Math ;-)
PART 3
... show time.
... that ..." Becca reached for a reasonable excuse. Or, more appropriately, an unreasonable one. "I'm pregnant! I was going to tell you at lunch today."
Becca sat slightly apart from the others, who were deep into their "council of war". She shook her head as she looked from Lexie to Mr. Elliot to Mr. Devon.
"I still don't understand why we don't go to the police."
The three stopped and looked at her blankly. Mr. Devon finally spoke. "We don't have any proof. If the police move too suddenly, all the thief has to do is destroy my designs, and there's no evidence. I have no other copies of them."
"And besides," Mr. Elliot interrupted, "we have customers who are very sensitive to any kind of scandal. The smallest hint that we're having problems, and they'd be running back to Gucci as fast as their spike heels will take them. This must be handled quietly."
Becca sighed, for what felt like the forty third time that day. "So, do you at least have an idea of who could be behind this?"
Mr. Devon leaned forward. "The only designer that I know is having a show on Friday is Christof Kimmel. I had heard through the grapevine that he was having creative difficulties, but never would have imagined that he would stoop to stealing my designs. Of course, it is almost an honor to be considered good enough to steal from, but still..."
Becca broke in. "Fine. So what can we do that the police can't?"
Lexie looked up brightly. "I have a plan!"
'Why am I not surprised?" Becca asked herself. "Let's hear it," she said aloud. "Just remember, I have final veto power. If it's too dangerous, you don't do it, no appeals. Your father trusts me."
Lexie stood up and gestured dramatically. "Well, if we just took the designs back, they'd know that we figured it out, and they might try again. My dad told me about a case they had once, where they gave the bad guys some pictures of some really icky designs, and fooled them into thinking they were real. We could do the same thing."
"I'm not sure I could draw any 'icky' designs," the designer interjected.
"Oh, I'll help. I know just what the kids hate the most."
"And I have a dress left over from our 'Most Tasteless Design' party," Mr. Elliot said. "I can put it into one of our boxes, and they'll never know it isn't my little Alexandra's dress."
"Great!" Lexie jumped up. "Mr. Devon, get your sketch pad out, and let's get drawing! We've only got forty-five minutes before Fred is supposed to be meeting this guy. We've got to hurry!"
Becca stood, putting a hand on Lexie's shoulder to hold her still. "Wait, I hate to be the wet blanket here, but how do you propose to make the switch? If he's in a public place, there'll be witnesses. If he's back to his studio, we'll have to do some breaking and entering. Either way, I won't put Lexie at risk."
"I would never do anything that might hurt Miss Alexandra," Mr. Elliot said. "Mr. Peck would have my private parts on a plate, and I've grown quite fond of them."
"I'm sure he's going someplace public. We'll just follow Fred, then you guys will create a distraction, and I'll sneak up and make the switch, since I'm the smallest," Lexie explained. "That's all there is to it!"
"*You* have been exposed to Hollywood too long. This isn't some kind of action/adventure television show! Lexie, we don't know anything about where he's going," Becca said, exasperated.
"Oh, once we see the place, we'll figure out what to do. We just have to think on our feet."
'That girl has been hanging around Hannibal too much,' Becca thought. "No. No way. I absolutely forbid..." Becca stopped as Lexie looked up at her, her brown eyes glistening and pleading. "I cannot let you..." Becca saw Lexie's lower lip trembling, and was hit full force with the girl's I'm-So-Cute-How-Can-You-Refuse-Me-Anything pout. She sighed, for the forty fourth time. Templeton was going to have his work cut out with this one.
"OK, we'll see where Fred takes us. But if it looks too dangerous, " she waggled a finger in front of the girl's face, "you are out of it. Period. I really mean it."
Lexie leapt up and kissed Becca's cheek. Then she grabbed Mr. Devon's hand and pulled him from the room. The last thing Becca heard from her was, "Do you have neon pink and chartreuse markers?"
Yup. Temp was going to owe her big time for this one. She envisioned him laying on some tropical South American beach, with gorgeous women making obscene proposals to him. She pushed the image from her mind and started planning out everything he was going to have to do to make it up to her.
*****
"So, my beautiful blond man, will you come to my bed or not?"
Templeton Peck slowly backed up until his back was against the bars of his cell, putting as much space between himself and Pedro, the goat molester, as possible.
"Hannibal, any help here would be appreciated!"
"Oh, he's harmless, Face. Just don't go 'baaa' and you'll be fine," his commander said from the next cell.
"That's not funny, Hannibal."
"Face it, lieutenant. Can I help it if most members of the human race find you irresistable? You can't blame the man."
Face whirled around to give a scathing reply, then remembered who was at his back and quickly turned around.
"Relax, Face. Murdock and B.A. will have us out of here in no time -- probably before it gets dark. We definitely won't have to spend more than one night here, two at the most.
"I'll get you for this Hannibal. If you don't come up with something to get us out *now*, next time Lexie wants to go to the mall, her Uncle Hannibal gets to take her. Just imagine -- eight hours of trying on clothes and shoes and sighing over the pictures of River Phoenix in the teen magazines."
"Face, you wouldn't."
"Just try me."
There was a moment's silence, then...
"Guards!"
*****
Lexie looked over the top of her Teen Beat magazine at the man they were trailing. Fred had, predictably, decided that he felt much better, and left the shop after about forty five minutes. He had taken off on foot, with Lexie, Becca, the designer and the tailor following behind, doing their best to be incognito. Fortunately, Fred was not the most observant of men. Every so often he would turn and look back, causing them all to turn around suddenly or press themselves up against a building or hide behind something, like a teen magazine.
With one last longing look at River, Lexie put her magazine back into her bookbag. Fred had finally entered a restaurant, and it looked like it was time to flesh out the plan. Becca, as the least recognizable of the bunch behind her sunglasses, designer dress and borrowed blond wig, was elected to go inside and scout where Fred had gone.
She stood inside, as though waiting for someone. The maitre d' glided toward her, but she froze him with a baleful stare, and he smoothly turned away. Her frustration with Lexie was really helping with her Bitch persona today. Conveniently, she discovered that from where she stood, she could overhear Fred talking to another man she didn't recognize. Fred made a move to sit at the man's table, but the other made a violent gesture to stop him.
"You are not invited to sit with me. It would not do for one such as myself to be seen lunching with a peon such as yourself." As he spoke he handed a thick envelope to Fred.
"Christof, when will I come to work for you?"
"You will address me as Herr Kimmel, and you will never work for me. Do you think I would trust a man who would betray his own employer for money? For love, maybe. For sex, definitely. But never for something as coarse as money.
"But...I thought..."
"No, you did not think, and that is the crime that I can never forgive. Goodbye, Fred. I suggest you take this money and buy a ticket back to Pukwana, South Dakota, for you shall never work in this town again."
Becca watched as the dejected man slunk from the restaurant. She dropped her purse and took a look under the long tablecloth covering the table that the faux-designer was sitting at. Sure enough, there were a box and a folder there, of the types that Elliot used. She swiftly left to report her findings to her fellow conspirators.
Lexie's plan was very simple. Since he would be most likely to be recognized by Kimmel, Elliot would stay outside, watching in case of trouble. Becca and Devon would go into the restaurant and argue, distracting Kimmel and the rest of the patrons of the establishment, and then Lexie would sneak up and make the switch. It would be a 'piece of cake'.
Becca got a cold chill at those last words, for some reason, but shook it off. If Lexie got caught making the switch, all she had to do was pretend that what she held was hers. Lexie was very good at righteous indignation.
Devon was muttering as he and Becca entered the restaurant. "I don't know if I can do this. If Forest hears that I've been seen with a woman like this, he won't speak to me for a week."
Becca ignored him. She saw Lexie enter the restaurant and hide in a corner. It was
She said in her loudest, non-shouting voice, "So, where were you? Off with your secretary again? Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to stand around here waiting for you?"
Devon replied, equally loud, "About as humiliating as it is to have to be around you when you've been drinking Jack Daniels all morning. The least you could do would be to get intoxicated on a higher class of alcohol."
"What! I haven't had a drop all day!"
"Then you must have been drinking Jack the pool-boy or Daniel the gardener this morning!"
"You're getting the two of us confused again!"
At this time, the maitre d' approached. "Madame, monsieur. Do you have a reservation?"
"Of course we do," Becca said, still loudly, "under the name of Robinson."
The man looked apologetic. "There is no reservation under that name."
Becca whirled to Devon, and took the volume up a level. "What! You aren't even competent enough to make a reservation? You are such an idiot!"
She was feeling pride in her performance, and took a quick, sideways glance at Kimmel. He was ignoring them completely.
Becca looked at Devon in desperation. Any moment now they would be tossed out of the restaurant.
"I suppose you were too busy trying to find some new fashion designer to screw! Have you finally found a German one to add to your collection?" She chanced another look. Their prey had finally taken the bait. He had looked up, and was now riveted by the handsome man on the receiving end of the abuse she was spewing out.
"If I am, it's only because bringing my genitalia anywhere within 10 feet of you is to risk having them frozen off!"
"How dare you!" Becca grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter and flung the contents in the general direction of Devon, and in the exact direction of Kimmel. The wine hit him dead center in the face, dripping down his chest. Devon immediately rushed over to the other man. "Oh, I am so sorry. You must forgive my wife, she's... On the other hand, there is no reason why you should forgive the bitch, but I am sorry, none the less." He picked up a napkin and brushed at Kimmel's clothing. "Such a lovely shirt. You have exquisite taste." Devon smiled warmly at the man. He grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Let's go back to the kitchens, and see if we can get you cleaned up."
"What do you think you are doing?" Becca shrieked.
"Cleaning up after your messes, as usual."
Devon led him several steps away, and Lexie, seeing her chance, dove under the tablecloth, and set to switching the box and folder with those from her bag.
She froze as she heard voices coming back to the table.
"No, my dear boy. I am fine, truly. If you would like to make it up to me, though, you can join me for lunch."
Lexie thought her heart would stop when she saw two sets of legs appear under the tablecloth. She shrunk back against the legs that she recognized as Devon's. She had to dodge to one side as Kimmel brought one foot up, and rubbed it up and down Devon's leg. She was pretty sure that she was seeing something that she shouldn't for a few more years.
Becca also thought that her heart would stop when she saw that Lexie was trapped under the table. She grabbed a chocolate mousse from a nearby table.
"So, you like cleaning up my messes? Well, you should love cleaning this one up!" With that, she shoved the dessert fully into Kimmel's face, twisting slightly to try to get it under his eyelids. He jumped up, temporarily blinded by chocolate. Devon pulled Lexie from under the table, and she scampered from the room and out the door.
"Why are you acting so irrationally?" Devon said, looking for a way out now.
"Oh, darling, it's just that
"Oh, my sweetest heart. I'm so sorry I yelled at you. Let's go home and celebrate!"
They ran out of the restaurant, leaving the thieving designer messy, frustrated, and completely clueless.
As the four of them ran back to Mr. Elliot's shop, Becca spared a thought for Templeton. She hoped his mission had been as successful as theirs had been.
*****
The four men comprising the A-Team stood wearily in the suite of rooms belonging to the Princess Almira, feeling somewhat outclassed by their surroundings. All of them looked grimy and unkempt. B.A. had a his arm in a sling. Murdock had a bandage around his head. Face had a gorgeous black eye developing.
Hannibal alone had managed to escape without injury, and he managed to make 'grimy' look fashionable.
They were listening in disbelief to the words she was saying.
"You tell me that you have come to rescue me? But I need no rescue! I will be marrying Ramon soon, and we will be very happy. My papa, he is just a little over-protective. He wants me to marry some prince or duke, and will not listen when I tell him I would rather marry for money." She sighed. "He is so old fashioned."
She considered Hannibal for a moment, then stalked up to him. "Oh, but you are such a handsome man. Perhaps, if you were to ask, I might go with *you*." She twined her arms around his and up to his shoulders. She gave him one of her patented smoldering looks.
"Sorry, ma'am. I'm already in a committed relationship."
"That is even better. Then you will not want one with me."
Hannibal gently untangled himself from her. "As much as I appreciate the offer, ma'am, I can't take you up on it."
With a languid shrug she moved away. "I hate to see such brave, handsome men, who only came here to rescue me, after all, go away empty handed. I have decided. Whatever my father is paying you, I will have Ramon pay double. That will convince my papa that I am marrying the right man." She opened a safe and started pulling out money. "And we shall let you use our private plane, to return to your home."
There was an eruption from one of the members of the Team. "I ain't gettin' on no plane! I'll be walkin' home before I be gettin' on another plane! Hannibal, I'm gonna rip your..." The commotion stopped suddenly, and the large man slumped to the floor. Face smiled his most charming smile, and held up the small knock-out dart he had retrieved from his kit. He walked over to the princess. "Now, let's see about this additional payment you're making..."
*****
EPILOGUE
Rebecca yawned loudly as she walked downstairs to the kitchen. After she had measured out the coffee and started the pot she reached into the cupboard to pull out a mug. She lifted one up and read the words "World's Greatest Dad" on it. She smiled gently for a second before the smile slipped away from her face. Blinking her eyes rapidly, her hand tensed around the mug and she quickly put it back and grabbed another. Moving over to the now half-full pot, she poured herself a cup. After looking at the kitchen clock and seeing that it was only 6:30am, Becca decided against starting breakfast and wandered into the cozy breakfast nook just off the kitchen. Sitting on the loveseat, she propped her feet up and looked at the books and magazines lying on the end table next to her. Becca idly picked up a book - one of Lexie's Nancy Drew mysteries, smiling when she saw the finance magazine underneath.
Becca put the book down and wrapped both hands around her mug, inhaled the aroma deeply before taking a sip, then leaned her head back with a sigh of contentment. She and Lexie had picked up the dress the day before and had found the perfect necklace and earrings to go with it. Mr. Elliot had been so grateful for their help that he had arranged for a friend of his to come and do Lexie's hair for the dance. This night would be wonderful, if a certain father made it home in time.
Rebecca finished up her coffee and went back upstairs to shower and get dressed. When she came back down an hour later she heard the small tv in the kitchen and the sound of pots and pans banging together. Walking through the living room she nearly tripped over a suitcase in the middle of the room. Quickly running into the kitchen, Becca came to a sudden stop when she saw Templeton standing in front of the stove.
"You're home!"
Face had barely turned around before he was engulfed in a hug. He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face for a lingering kiss.
"Dad, you made it!" Face smiled against Becca's lips before pulling away to greet his daughter.
"I told you I would didn't I?" he said chidingly as he hugged Lexie.
"Yeah." Lexie squirmed out of Face's arms and landed on the floor.
"Dad! What happened to your eye?"
"Oh...that...just a small misunderstanding with a man named Pedro."
Rebecca remembering the food on the stove, quickly turned her attention to it before it burned.
"...and then Princess Almira had Ramon pay us double what her father had paid so that she could stay with Ramon. Which reminds me, I need to arrange a wire transfer to return the money we accepted from King Robert, since we didn't bring his daughter back. If you ladies will excuse me." Face smiled at his two favorite girls in the world and headed towards his den.
"I'll bring your breakfast down as soon as it's done," Becca called after him
"Don't bother, I'll be back in just a few minutes." Templeton's voice called from the hallway. Rebecca looked over at Lexie and they both smiled knowingly. Lexie went to one of the cupboards and pulled out a tray to carry the food down to the den while Becca started dishing out their breakfasts.
They were distracted when they heard a familiar name coming from the television.
"And today in fashion news, last night's show by German designer Christof Kimmel was an unmitigated disaster. Dresses mixing puce and florescent pink stripes with ruffles and bows from top to bottom has this reporter asking, 'What was he thinking?' or perhaps 'What drugs was he on?' These dresses look like they were designed by a twelve year old. After this debacle, Christof is finished in Hollywood. Next..."
Becca leaned over to shut off the tv, while Lexie sulked. "No way those look like they were designed by a twelve year old. I was aiming for six. If I'd wanted to, I could have made up something really good!"
Becca started chuckling. Lexie couldn't hold the pout and giggled. "We really got him, didn't we!"
"Yup, we got him good. That was a pretty good idea that you had."
"Uh-huh, and you know what I always say: I love it..."
"Lexie, don't you dare," Becca said warningly.
"...when a plan comes together!" Lexie dodged out of arm's reach, picked up the tray and hurried for the safety of her father's den.
Becca sighed, wondering how she'd ever gotten mixed up with this crazy bunch. Then she smiled, thinking of all the things Face was going to do to make up for the past week, picked up her cup, and wandered to the basement to join the party.
*****
Templeton Peck walked back to the table with two glasses of punch. He paused for a moment when he saw Lexie talking with her friends. He watched his daughter laugh at something one of her friends had said and he felt a pang in his heart at the realization that his daughter was growing up. In a few months, she would be a teen-ager and a few years after that she would be bugging him to teach her how to drive and she'd be...going on dates. He didn't want to think about that. It was too soon. He wasn't quite ready to share her yet. At that moment, Lexie looked up and saw him and her whole face lit up with an expression that she reserved only for him. His heart swelled even as he knew that he had been given the gift that was his Lexie at a very high cost and that someday he would have to tell her the secret of her past, but not tonight. Tonight was his night with her and he wouldn't share it with ghosts of the past. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to his daughter, smiling and nodding at her friends. Face put down the drinks he had been holding, turned to his daughter, bowed slightly and held out his hand.
"May I have the honor of this dance?"
The end
ooooooooooh, TRIPPY!
What post? The one you're carrying inside your rusty innards!