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Who is Kanad?
A. Kanad is Tendal 13 and Arvid 6's supervisor at the Ultroom.
B. Kanad is Reggie Laughton.
C. Kanad is the head of the whole galactic system.
D. Kanad is the leader of the Mycenae.
| Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Space Science Fiction May 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. THE ULTROOM ERROR by JERRY SOHL Smith admitted he had made an error involving a few murders—and a few thousand years. He was entitled to a sense of humor, though, even in the Ultroom! HB73782. Ultroom error. Tendal 13. Arvid 6. Kanad transfer out of 1609 complete, intact, but too near limit of 1,000 days. Next Kanad transfer ready. 1951. Reginald, son of Mr. and Mrs. Martin Laughton, 3495 Orland Drive, Marionville, Illinois, U. S. A. Arrive his 378th day. TB73782. Nancy Laughton sat on the blanket she had spread on the lawn in her front yard, knitting a pair of booties for the PTA bazaar. Occasionally she glanced at her son in the play pen, who was getting his daily dose of sunshine. He was gurgling happily, examining a ball, a cheese grater and a linen baby book, all with perfunctory interest. When she looked up again she noticed a man walking by—except he turned up the walk and crossed the lawn to her. He was a little taller than her husband, had piercing blue eyes and a rather amused set to his lips. "Hello, Nancy," he said. "Hello, Joe," she answered. It was her brother who lived in Kankakee. "I'm going to take the baby for a while," he said. "All right, Joe." He reached into the pen, picked up the baby. As he did so the baby's knees hit the side of the play pen and young Laughton let out a scream—half from hurt and half from sudden lack of confidence in his new handler. But this did not deter Joe. He started off with the child. Around the corner and after the man came a snarling mongrel dog, eyes bright, teeth glinting in the sunlight. The man did not turn as the dog threw himself at him, burying his teeth in his leg. Surprised, the man dropped the screaming child on the lawn and turned to the dog. Joe seemed off balance and he backed up confusedly in the face of the snapping jaws. Then he suddenly turned and walked away, the dog at his heels. "I tell you, the man said he was my brother and he made me think he was," Nancy told her husband for the tenth time. "I don't even have a brother." Martin Laughton sighed. "I can't understand why you believed him. It's just—just plain nuts, Nancy!" "Don't you think I know it?" Nancy said tearfully. "I feel like I'm going crazy. I can't say I dreamt it because there was Reggie with his bleeding knees, squalling for all he was worth on the grass—Oh, I don't even want to think about it." "We haven't lost Reggie, Nancy, remember that. Now why don't you try to get some rest?" "You—you don't believe me at all, do you, Martin?" When her husband did not answer, her head sank to her arms on the table and she sobbed. "Nancy, for heaven's sake, of course I believe you. I'm trying to think it out, that's all. We should have called the police." Nancy shook her head in her arms. "They'd—never—believe me either," she moaned. "I'd better go and make sure Reggie's all right." Martin got up out of his chair and went to the stairs. "I'm going with you," Nancy said, hurriedly rising and coming over to him. "We'll go up and look at him together." They found Reggie peacefully asleep in his crib in his room upstairs. They checked the windows and tucked in the blankets. They paused in the room for a moment and then Martin stole his arm around his wife and led her to the door. "As I've said, sergeant, this fellow hypnotized my wife. He made her think he was her brother. She doesn't even have a brother. Then he tried to get away with the baby." Martin leaned down and patted the dog. "It was Tiger here who scared him off." The police sergeant looked at the father, at Nancy and then at the dog. He scribbled notes in his book. "Are you a rich man, Mr. Laughton?" he asked. "Not at all. The bank still owns most of the house. I have a few hundred dollars, that's all." "What do you do?" "Office work, mostly. I'm a junior executive in an insurance company." "Any enemies?" "No ... Oh, I suppose I have a few people I don't get along with, like anybody else. Nobody who'd do anything like this, though." The sergeant flipped his notebook closed. "You'd better keep your dog inside and around the kid as much as possible. Keep your doors and windows locked. I'll see that the prowl car keeps an eye on the house. Call us if anything seems unusual or out of the way." Nancy had taken a sedative and was asleep by the time Martin finished cleaning the .30-.30 rifle he used for deer hunting. He put it by the stairs, ready for use, fully loaded, leaning it against the wall next to the telephone stand. The front door bell rang. He answered it. It was Dr. Stuart and another man. "I came as soon as I could, Martin," the young doctor said, stepping inside with the other man. "This is my new assistant, Dr. Tompkins." Martin and Tompkins shook hands. "The baby—?" Dr. Stuart asked. "Upstairs," Martin said. "You'd better get him, Dr. Tompkins, if we're to take him to the hospital. I'll stay here with Mr. Laughton. How've you been, Martin?" "Fine." "How's everything at the office?" "Fine." "And your wife?" "She's fine, too." "Glad to hear it, Martin. Mighty glad. Say, by the way, there's that bill you owe me. I think it's $32, isn't that right?" "Yes, I'd almost forgotten about it." "Why don't you be a good fellow and write a check for it? It's been over a year, you know." "That's right. I'll get right at it." Martin went over to his desk, opened it and started looking for his checkbook. Dr. Stuart stood by him, making idle comment until Dr. Tompkins came down the stairs with the sleeping baby cuddled against his shoulder. "Never mind the check, now, Martin. I see we're ready to go." He went over to his assistant and took the baby. Together they walked out the front door. "Good-bye," Martin said, going to the door. Then he was nearly bowled over by the discharge of the .30-.30. Dr. Stuart crumpled to the ground, the baby falling to the lawn. Dr. Tompkins whirled and there was a second shot. Dr. Tompkins pitched forward on his face. The figure of a woman ran from the house, retrieved the now squalling infant and ran back into the house. Once inside, Nancy slammed the door, gave the baby to the stunned Martin and headed for the telephone. "One of them was the same man!" she cried. Martin gasped, sinking into a chair with the baby. "I believed them," he said slowly and uncomprehendingly. "They made me believe them!" "Those bodies," the sergeant said. "Would you mind pointing them out to me, please?" "Aren't they—aren't they on the walk?" Mrs. Laughton asked. "There is nothing on the walk, Mrs. Laughton." "But there must be! I tell you I shot these men who posed as doctors. One of them was the same man who tried to take the baby this afternoon. They hypnotized my husband—" "Yes, I know, Mrs. Laughton. We've been through that." The sergeant went to the door and opened it. "Say, Homer, take another look around the walk and the bushes. There's supposed to be two of them. Shot with a .30-.30." He turned and picked up the gun and examined it again. "Ever shoot a gun before, Mrs. Laughton?" "Many times. Martin and I used to go hunting together before we had Reggie." The sergeant nodded. "You were taking an awful chance, shooting at a guy carrying your baby, don't you think?" "I shot him in the legs. The other—the other turned and I shot him in the chest. I could even see his eyes when he turned around. If I hadn't pulled the trigger then ... I don't want to remember it." The patrolman pushed the door open. "There's no bodies out here but there's some blood. Quite a lot of blood. A little to one side of the walk." The policemen went out. "Thank God you woke up, Nancy," Martin said. "I'd have let them have the baby." He reached over and smoothed the sleeping Reggie's hair. Nancy, who was rocking the boy, narrowed her eyes. "I wonder why they want our baby? He's just like any other baby. We don't have any money. We couldn't pay a ransom." "Reggie's pretty cute, though," Martin said. "You will have to admit that." Nancy smiled. Then she suddenly stopped rocking. "Martin!" He sat up quickly. "Where's Tiger?" Together they rose and walked around the room. They found him in a corner, eyes open, tongue protruding. He was dead. If we keep Reggie in the house much longer he'll turn out to be a hermit," Martin said at breakfast a month later. "He needs fresh air and sunshine." "I'm not going to sit on the lawn alone with him, Martin. I just can't, that's all. I'd be able to think of nothing but that day." "Still thinking about it? I think we'd have heard from them again if they were coming back. They probably got somebody else's baby by this time." Martin finished his coffee and rose to kiss her good-bye. "But for safety's sake I guess you'd better keep that gun handy." The morning turned into a brilliant, sunshiny day. Puffs of clouds moved slowly across the summer sky and a warm breeze rustled the trees. It would be a crime to keep Reggie inside on a day like this, Nancy thought. So she called Mrs. MacDougal, the next door neighbor. Mrs. MacDougal was familiar with what had happened to the Laughtons and she agreed to keep an eye on Nancy and Reggie and to call the police at the first sign of trouble. With a fearful but determined heart Nancy moved the play pen and set it up in the front yard. She spread a blanket for herself and put Reggie in the pen. Her heart pounded all the while and she watched the street for any strangers, ready to flee inside if need be. Reggie just gurgled with delight at the change in environment. This peaceful scene was disturbed by a speeding car in which two men were riding. The car roared up the street, swerved toward the parkway, tires screaming, bounced over the curb and sidewalk, straight toward the child and mother. Reggie, attracted by the sudden noise, looked up to see the approaching vehicle. His mother stood up, set her palms against her cheeks and shrieked. The car came on, crunched over the play pen, killing the child. The mother was hit and instantly killed, force of the blow snapping her spine and tossing her against the house. The car plunged on into a tree, hitting it a terrible blow, crumbling the car's forward end so it looked like an accordion. The men were thrown from the machine. "We'll never be able to prosecute in this case," the states attorney said. "At least not on a drunken driving basis." "I can't get over it," the chief of police said. "I've got at least six men who will swear the man was drunk. He staggered, reeled and gave the usual drunk talk. He reeked of whiskey." The prosecutor handed the report over the desk. "Here's the analysis. Not a trace of alcohol. He couldn't have even had a smell of near beer. Here's another report. This is his physical exam made not long afterwards. The man was in perfect health. Only variations are he had a scar on his leg where something, probably a dog, bit him once. And then a scar on his chest. It looked like an old gunshot wound, they said. Must have happened years ago." "That's odd. The man who accosted Mrs. Laughton in the afternoon was bitten by their dog. Later that night she said she shot the same man in the chest. Since the scars are healed it obviously couldn't be the same man. But there's a real coincidence for you. And speaking of the dogbite, the Laughton dog died that night. His menu evidently didn't agree with him. Never did figure what killed him, actually." "Any record of treatment on the man she shot?" "The men . You'll remember, there were two. No, we never found a trace of either. No doctor ever made a report of a gunshot wound that night. No hospital had a case either—at least not within several hundred miles—that night or several nights afterwards. Ever been shot with .30-.30?" The state attorney shook his head. "I wouldn't be here if I had." "I'll say you wouldn't. The pair must have crawled away to die God knows where." "Getting back to the man who ran over the child and killed Mrs. Laughton. Why did he pretend to be drunk?" It was the chief's turn to shake his head. "Your guess is as good as mine. There are a lot of angles to this case none of us understand. It looks deliberate, but where's the motive?" "What does the man have to say?" "I was afraid you'd get to him," the chief said, his neck reddening. "It's all been rather embarrassing to the department." He coughed self-consciously. "He's proved a strange one, all right. He says his name is John Smith and he's got cards to prove it, too—for example, a social security card. It looks authentic, yet there's no such number on file in Washington, so we've discovered. We've had him in jail for a week and we've all taken turns questioning him. He laughs and admits his guilt—in fact, he seems amused by most everything. Sometimes all alone in his cell he'll start laughing for no apparent reason. It gives you the creeps." The states attorney leaned back in his chair. "Maybe it's a case for an alienist." "One jump ahead of you. Dr. Stone thinks he's normal, but won't put down any I.Q. Actually, he can't figure him out himself. Smith seems to take delight in answering questions—sort of anticipates them and has the answer ready before you're half through asking." "Well, if Dr. Stone says he's normal, that's enough for me." The prosecutor was silent for a moment. Then, "How about the husband?" "Laughton? We're afraid to let him see him. All broken up. No telling what kind of a rumpus he'd start—especially if Smith started his funny business." "Guess you're right. Well, Mr. Smith won't think it's so funny when we hang criminal negligence or manslaughter on him. By the way, you've checked possible family connections?" "Nobody ever saw John Smith before. Even at the address on his driver's license. And there's no duplicate of that in Springfield, in case you're interested." The man who had laughingly told police his name was John Smith lay on his cot in the county jail, his eyes closed, his arms folded across his chest. This gave him the appearance of being alert despite reclining. Even as he lay, his mouth held a hint of a smile. Arvid 6—for John Smith was Arvid 6—had lain in that position for more than four hours, when suddenly he snapped his eyes open and appeared to be listening. For a moment a look of concern crossed his face and he swung his legs to the floor and sat there expectantly. Arvid 6 knew Tendal 13 had materialized and was somewhere in the building. Eventually there were some sounds from beyond the steel cell and doorway. There was a clang when the outer doorway was opened and Arvid 6 rose from his cot. "Your lawyer's here to see you," the jailer said, indicating the man with the brief case. "Ring the buzzer when you're through." The jailer let the man in, locked the cell door and walked away. The man threw the brief case on the jail cot and stood glaring. "Your damned foolishness has gone far enough. I'm sick and tired of it," he declared. "If you carry on any more we'll never get back to the Ultroom!" "I'm sorry, Tendal," the man on the cot said. "I didn't think—" "You're absolutely right. You didn't think. Crashing that car into that tree and killing that woman—that was the last straw. You don't even deserve to get back to our era. You ought to be made to rot here." "I'm really sorry about that," Arvid 6 said. You know the instructions. Just because you work in the Ultroom don't get to thinking human life doesn't have any value. We wouldn't be here if it hadn't. But to unnecessarily kill—" The older man shook his head. "You could have killed yourself as well and we'd never get the job done. As it is, you almost totally obliterated me." Tendal 13 paced the length of the cell and back again, gesturing as he talked. "It was only with the greatest effort I pulled myself back together again. I doubt that you could have done it. And then all the while you've been sitting here, probably enjoying yourself with your special brand of humor I have grown to despise." "You didn't have to come along at all, you know," Arvid 6 said. "How well I know! How sorry I am that I ever did! It was only because I was sorry for you, because someone older and more experienced than you was needed. I volunteered. Imagine that! I volunteered! Tendal 13 reaches the height of stupidity and volunteers to help Arvid 6 go back 6,000 years to bring Kanad back, to correct a mistake Arvid 6 made!" He snorted. "I still can't believe I was ever that stupid. I only prove it when I pinch myself and here I am. "Oh, you've been a joy to be with! First it was that hunt in ancient Mycenae when you let the lion escape the hunters' quaint spears and we were partly eaten by the lion in the bargain, although you dazzled the hunters, deflecting their spears. And then your zest for drink when we were with Octavian in Alexandria that led to everybody's amusement but ours when we were ambushed by Anthony's men. And worst of all, that English barmaid you became engrossed with at our last stop in 1609, when her husband mistook me for you and you let him take me apart piece by piece—" "All right, all right," Arvid 6 said. "I'll admit I've made some mistakes. You're just not adventurous, that's all." "Shut up! For once you're going to listen to me. Our instructions specifically stated we were to have as little as possible to do with these people. But at every turn you've got us more and more enmeshed with them. If that's adventure, you can have it." Tendal 13 sat down wearily and sank his head in his hands. "It was you who conceived the idea of taking Reggie right out of his play pen. 'Watch me take that child right out from under its mother's nose' were your exact words. And before I could stop you, you did. Only you forgot an important factor in the equation—the dog, Tiger. And you nursed a dogbite most of the afternoon before it healed. And then you took your spite out on the poor thing by suggesting suffocation to it that night. "And speaking of that night, you remember we agreed I was to do the talking. But no, you pulled a switch and captured Martin Laughton's attention. 'I came as soon as I could, Martin,' you said. And suddenly I played a very minor role. 'This is my new assistant, Dr. Tompkins,' you said. And then what happened? I get shot in the legs and you get a hole in your back. We were both nearly obliterated that time and we didn't even come close to getting the child. "Still you wanted to run the whole show. 'I'm younger than you,' you said. 'I'll take the wheel.' And the next thing I know I'm floating in space halfway to nowhere with two broken legs, a spinal injury, concussion and some of the finest bruises you ever saw." These twentieth century machines aren't what they ought to be," Arvid 6 said. "You never run out of excuses, do you, Arvid? Remember what you said in the Ultroom when you pushed the lever clear over and transferred Kanad back 6,000 years? 'My hand slipped.' As simple as that. 'My hand slipped.' It was so simple everyone believed you. You were given no real punishment. In a way it was a reward—at least to you—getting to go back and rescue the life germ of Kanad out of each era he'd be born in." Tendal 13 turned and looked steadily and directly at Arvid 6. "Do you know what I think? I think you deliberately pushed the lever over as far as it would go just to see what would happen . That's how simple I think it was." Arvid 6 flushed, turned away and looked at the floor. "What crazy things have you been doing since I've been gone?" Tendal 13 asked. Arvid 6 sighed. "After what you just said I guess it wouldn't amuse you, although it has me. They got to me right after the accident before I had a chance to collect my wits, dematerialize or anything—you said we shouldn't dematerialize in front of anybody." "That's right." "Well, I didn't know what to do. I could see they thought I was drunk, so I was. But they had a blood sample before I could manufacture any alcohol in my blood, although I implanted a memory in them that I reeked of it." He laughed. "I fancy they're thoroughly confused." "And you're thoroughly amused, no doubt. Have they questioned you?" "At great length. They had a psychiatrist in to see me. He was a queer fellow with the most stupid set of questions and tests I ever saw." "And you amused yourself with him." "I suppose you'd think so." "Who do you tell them you are?" "John Smith. A rather prevalent name here, I understand. I manufactured a pasteboard called a social security card and a driver's license—" "Never mind. It's easy to see you've been your own inimitable self. Believe me, if I ever get back to the Ultroom I hope I never see you again. And I hope I'll never leave there again though I'm rejuvenated through a million years." "Was Kanad's life germ transferred all right this time?" Tendal 13 shook his head. "I haven't heard. The transfers are getting more difficult all the time. In 1609, you'll remember, it was a case of pneumonia for the two-year-old. A simple procedure. It wouldn't work here. Medicine's too far along." He produced a notebook. "The last jump was 342 years, a little more than average. The next ought to be around 2250. Things will be more difficult than ever there, probably." "Do you think Kanad will be angry about all this?" "How would you like to have to go through all those birth processes, to have your life germ knocked from one era to the next?" "Frankly, I didn't think he'd go back so far." "If it had been anybody but Kanad nobody'd ever have thought of going back after it. The life germ of the head of the whole galactic system who came to the Ultroom to be transplanted to a younger body—and then sending him back beyond his original birth date—" Tendal 13 got up and commenced his pacing again. "Oh, I suppose Kanad's partly to blame, wanting rejuvenating at only 300 years. Some have waited a thousand or more or until their bones are like paper." "I just wonder how angry Kanad will be," Arvid muttered. HB92167. Ultroom Error. Tendal 13. Arvid 6. Kanad transfer out of 1951 complete. Next Kanad transfer ready. 2267. Phullam 19, son of Orla 39 and Rhoda R, 22H Level M, Hemisphere B, Quadrant 3, Sector I. Arrive his 329th Day. TB92167 Arvid 6 rose from the cot and the two men faced each other. "Before we leave, Arvid," Tendal 13 started to say. "I know, I know. You want me to let you handle everything." "Exactly. Is that too much to ask after all you've done?" "I guess I have made mistakes. From now on you be the boss. I'll do whatever you say." "I hope I can count on that." Tendal 13 rang the jail buzzer. The jailer unlocked the cell door. "You remember the chief said it's all right to take him with me, Matthews," Tendal 13 told the jailer. "Yes, I remember," the jailer said mechanically, letting them both out of the cell. They walked together down the jail corridor. When they came to another barred door the jailer fumbled with the keys and clumsily tried several with no luck. Arvid 6, an amused set to his mouth and devilment in his eyes, watched the jailer's expression as he walked through the bars of the door. He laughed as he saw the jailer's eyes bulge. "Arvid!" Tendal 13 walked briskly through the door, snatched Arvid 6 by the shoulders and shook him. The jailer watched stupified as the two men vanished in the middle of a violent argument. | C. Kanad is the head of the whole galactic system. |
Why is the Geig Corps important?
A. Val and Ron worked for them before signing up with UranCo
B. It is UranCo's method of acquiring manpower for the resource search
C. It is how Ledman got involved in the uranium project in the first place
D. They funded the dome that Ledman lives in
| THE HUNTED HEROES By ROBERT SILVERBERG The planet itself was tough enough—barren, desolate, forbidding; enough to stop the most adventurous and dedicated. But they had to run head-on against a mad genius who had a motto: Death to all Terrans! "Let's keep moving," I told Val. "The surest way to die out here on Mars is to give up." I reached over and turned up the pressure on her oxymask to make things a little easier for her. Through the glassite of the mask, I could see her face contorted in an agony of fatigue. And she probably thought the failure of the sandcat was all my fault, too. Val's usually about the best wife a guy could ask for, but when she wants to be she can be a real flying bother. It was beyond her to see that some grease monkey back at the Dome was at fault—whoever it was who had failed to fasten down the engine hood. Nothing but what had stopped us could stop a sandcat: sand in the delicate mechanism of the atomic engine. But no; she blamed it all on me somehow: So we were out walking on the spongy sand of the Martian desert. We'd been walking a good eight hours. "Can't we turn back now, Ron?" Val pleaded. "Maybe there isn't any uranium in this sector at all. I think we're crazy to keep on searching out here!" I started to tell her that the UranCo chief had assured me we'd hit something out this way, but changed my mind. When Val's tired and overwrought there's no sense in arguing with her. I stared ahead at the bleak, desolate wastes of the Martian landscape. Behind us somewhere was the comfort of the Dome, ahead nothing but the mazes and gullies of this dead world. He was a cripple in a wheelchair—helpless as a rattlesnake. "Try to keep going, Val." My gloved hand reached out and clumsily enfolded hers. "Come on, kid. Remember—we're doing this for Earth. We're heroes." She glared at me. "Heroes, hell!" she muttered. "That's the way it looked back home, but, out there it doesn't seem so glorious. And UranCo's pay is stinking." "We didn't come out here for the pay, Val." "I know, I know, but just the same—" It must have been hell for her. We had wandered fruitlessly over the red sands all day, both of us listening for the clicks of the counter. And the geigers had been obstinately hushed all day, except for their constant undercurrent of meaningless noises. Even though the Martian gravity was only a fraction of Earth's, I was starting to tire, and I knew it must have been really rough on Val with her lovely but unrugged legs. "Heroes," she said bitterly. "We're not heroes—we're suckers! Why did I ever let you volunteer for the Geig Corps and drag me along?" Which wasn't anywhere close to the truth. Now I knew she was at the breaking point, because Val didn't lie unless she was so exhausted she didn't know what she was doing. She had been just as much inflamed by the idea of coming to Mars to help in the search for uranium as I was. We knew the pay was poor, but we had felt it a sort of obligation, something we could do as individuals to keep the industries of radioactives-starved Earth going. And we'd always had a roving foot, both of us. No, we had decided together to come to Mars—the way we decided together on everything. Now she was turning against me. I tried to jolly her. "Buck up, kid," I said. I didn't dare turn up her oxy pressure any higher, but it was obvious she couldn't keep going. She was almost sleep-walking now. We pressed on over the barren terrain. The geiger kept up a fairly steady click-pattern, but never broke into that sudden explosive tumult that meant we had found pay-dirt. I started to feel tired myself, terribly tired. I longed to lie down on the soft, spongy Martian sand and bury myself. I looked at Val. She was dragging along with her eyes half-shut. I felt almost guilty for having dragged her out to Mars, until I recalled that I hadn't. In fact, she had come up with the idea before I did. I wished there was some way of turning the weary, bedraggled girl at my side back into the Val who had so enthusiastically suggested we join the Geigs. Twelve steps later, I decided this was about as far as we could go. I stopped, slipped out of the geiger harness, and lowered myself ponderously to the ground. "What'samatter, Ron?" Val asked sleepily. "Something wrong?" "No, baby," I said, putting out a hand and taking hers. "I think we ought to rest a little before we go any further. It's been a long, hard day." It didn't take much to persuade her. She slid down beside me, curled up, and in a moment she was fast asleep, sprawled out on the sands. Poor kid , I thought. Maybe we shouldn't have come to Mars after all. But, I reminded myself, someone had to do the job. A second thought appeared, but I squelched it: Why the hell me? I looked down at Valerie's sleeping form, and thought of our warm, comfortable little home on Earth. It wasn't much, but people in love don't need very fancy surroundings. I watched her, sleeping peacefully, a wayward lock of her soft blonde hair trailing down over one eyebrow, and it seemed hard to believe that we'd exchanged Earth and all it held for us for the raw, untamed struggle that was Mars. But I knew I'd do it again, if I had the chance. It's because we wanted to keep what we had. Heroes? Hell, no. We just liked our comforts, and wanted to keep them. Which took a little work. Time to get moving. But then Val stirred and rolled over in her sleep, and I didn't have the heart to wake her. I sat there, holding her, staring out over the desert, watching the wind whip the sand up into weird shapes. The Geig Corps preferred married couples, working in teams. That's what had finally decided it for us—we were a good team. We had no ties on Earth that couldn't be broken without much difficulty. So we volunteered. And here we are. Heroes. The wind blasted a mass of sand into my face, and I felt it tinkle against the oxymask. I glanced at the suit-chronometer. Getting late. I decided once again to wake Val. But she was tired. And I was tired too, tired from our wearying journey across the empty desert. I started to shake Val. But I never finished. It would be so nice just to lean back and nuzzle up to her, down in the sand. So nice. I yawned, and stretched back. I awoke with a sudden startled shiver, and realized angrily I had let myself doze off. "Come on, Val," I said savagely, and started to rise to my feet. I couldn't. I looked down. I was neatly bound in thin, tough, plastic tangle-cord, swathed from chin to boot-bottoms, my arms imprisoned, my feet caught. And tangle-cord is about as easy to get out of as a spider's web is for a trapped fly. It wasn't Martians that had done it. There weren't any Martians, hadn't been for a million years. It was some Earthman who had bound us. I rolled my eyes toward Val, and saw that she was similarly trussed in the sticky stuff. The tangle-cord was still fresh, giving off a faint, repugnant odor like that of drying fish. It had been spun on us only a short time ago, I realized. "Ron—" "Don't try to move, baby. This stuff can break your neck if you twist it wrong." She continued for a moment to struggle futilely, and I had to snap, "Lie still, Val!" "A very wise statement," said a brittle, harsh voice from above me. I looked up and saw a helmeted figure above us. He wasn't wearing the customary skin-tight pliable oxysuits we had. He wore an outmoded, bulky spacesuit and a fishbowl helmet, all but the face area opaque. The oxygen cannisters weren't attached to his back as expected, though. They were strapped to the back of the wheelchair in which he sat. Through the fishbowl I could see hard little eyes, a yellowed, parchment-like face, a grim-set jaw. I didn't recognize him, and this struck me odd. I thought I knew everyone on sparsely-settled Mars. Somehow I'd missed him. What shocked me most was that he had no legs. The spacesuit ended neatly at the thighs. He was holding in his left hand the tanglegun with which he had entrapped us, and a very efficient-looking blaster was in his right. "I didn't want to disturb your sleep," he said coldly. "So I've been waiting here for you to wake up." I could just see it. He might have been sitting there for hours, complacently waiting to see how we'd wake up. That was when I realized he must be totally insane. I could feel my stomach-muscles tighten, my throat constrict painfully. Then anger ripped through me, washing away the terror. "What's going on?" I demanded, staring at the half of a man who confronted us from the wheelchair. "Who are you?" "You'll find out soon enough," he said. "Suppose now you come with me." He reached for the tanglegun, flipped the little switch on its side to MELT, and shot a stream of watery fluid over our legs, keeping the blaster trained on us all the while. Our legs were free. "You may get up now," he said. "Slowly, without trying to make trouble." Val and I helped each other to our feet as best we could, considering our arms were still tightly bound against the sides of our oxysuits. "Walk," the stranger said, waving the tanglegun to indicate the direction. "I'll be right behind you." He holstered the tanglegun. I glimpsed the bulk of an outboard atomic rigging behind him, strapped to the back of the wheelchair. He fingered a knob on the arm of the chair and the two exhaust ducts behind the wheel-housings flamed for a moment, and the chair began to roll. Obediently, we started walking. You don't argue with a blaster, even if the man pointing it is in a wheelchair. "What's going on, Ron?" Val asked in a low voice as we walked. Behind us the wheelchair hissed steadily. "I don't quite know, Val. I've never seen this guy before, and I thought I knew everyone at the Dome." "Quiet up there!" our captor called, and we stopped talking. We trudged along together, with him following behind; I could hear the crunch-crunch of the wheelchair as its wheels chewed into the sand. I wondered where we were going, and why. I wondered why we had ever left Earth. The answer to that came to me quick enough: we had to. Earth needed radioactives, and the only way to get them was to get out and look. The great atomic wars of the late 20th Century had used up much of the supply, but the amount used to blow up half the great cities of the world hardly compared with the amount we needed to put them back together again. In three centuries the shattered world had been completely rebuilt. The wreckage of New York and Shanghai and London and all the other ruined cities had been hidden by a shining new world of gleaming towers and flying roadways. We had profited by our grandparents' mistakes. They had used their atomics to make bombs. We used ours for fuel. It was an atomic world. Everything: power drills, printing presses, typewriters, can openers, ocean liners, powered by the inexhaustible energy of the dividing atom. But though the energy is inexhaustible, the supply of nuclei isn't. After three centuries of heavy consumption, the supply failed. The mighty machine that was Earth's industry had started to slow down. And that started the chain of events that led Val and me to end up as a madman's prisoners, on Mars. With every source of uranium mined dry on Earth, we had tried other possibilities. All sorts of schemes came forth. Project Sea-Dredge was trying to get uranium from the oceans. In forty or fifty years, they'd get some results, we hoped. But there wasn't forty or fifty years' worth of raw stuff to tide us over until then. In a decade or so, our power would be just about gone. I could picture the sort of dog-eat-dog world we'd revert back to. Millions of starving, freezing humans tooth-and-clawing in it in the useless shell of a great atomic civilization. So, Mars. There's not much uranium on Mars, and it's not easy to find or any cinch to mine. But what little is there, helps. It's a stopgap effort, just to keep things moving until Project Sea-Dredge starts functioning. Enter the Geig Corps: volunteers out on the face of Mars, combing for its uranium deposits. And here we are, I thought. After we walked on a while, a Dome became visible up ahead. It slid up over the crest of a hill, set back between two hummocks on the desert. Just out of the way enough to escape observation. For a puzzled moment I thought it was our Dome, the settlement where all of UranCo's Geig Corps were located, but another look told me that this was actually quite near us and fairly small. A one-man Dome, of all things! "Welcome to my home," he said. "The name is Gregory Ledman." He herded us off to one side of the airlock, uttered a few words keyed to his voice, and motioned us inside when the door slid up. When we were inside he reached up, clumsily holding the blaster, and unscrewed the ancient spacesuit fishbowl. His face was a bitter, dried-up mask. He was a man who hated. The place was spartanly furnished. No chairs, no tape-player, no decoration of any sort. Hard bulkhead walls, rivet-studded, glared back at us. He had an automatic chef, a bed, and a writing-desk, and no other furniture. Suddenly he drew the tanglegun and sprayed our legs again. We toppled heavily to the floor. I looked up angrily. "I imagine you want to know the whole story," he said. "The others did, too." Valerie looked at me anxiously. Her pretty face was a dead white behind her oxymask. "What others?" "I never bothered to find out their names," Ledman said casually. "They were other Geigs I caught unawares, like you, out on the desert. That's the only sport I have left—Geig-hunting. Look out there." He gestured through the translucent skin of the Dome, and I felt sick. There was a little heap of bones lying there, looking oddly bright against the redness of the sands. They were the dried, parched skeletons of Earthmen. Bits of cloth and plastic, once oxymasks and suits, still clung to them. Suddenly I remembered. There had been a pattern there all the time. We didn't much talk about it; we chalked it off as occupational hazards. There had been a pattern of disappearances on the desert. I could think of six, eight names now. None of them had been particularly close friends. You don't get time to make close friends out here. But we'd vowed it wouldn't happen to us. It had. "You've been hunting Geigs?" I asked. " Why? What've they ever done to you?" He smiled, as calmly as if I'd just praised his house-keeping. "Because I hate you," he said blandly. "I intend to wipe every last one of you out, one by one." I stared at him. I'd never seen a man like this before; I thought all his kind had died at the time of the atomic wars. I heard Val sob, "He's a madman!" "No," Ledman said evenly. "I'm quite sane, believe me. But I'm determined to drive the Geigs—and UranCo—off Mars. Eventually I'll scare you all away." "Just pick us off in the desert?" "Exactly," replied Ledman. "And I have no fears of an armed attack. This place is well fortified. I've devoted years to building it. And I'm back against those hills. They couldn't pry me out." He let his pale hand run up into his gnarled hair. "I've devoted years to this. Ever since—ever since I landed here on Mars." "What are you going to do with us?" Val finally asked, after a long silence. He didn't smile this time. "Kill you," he told her. "Not your husband. I want him as an envoy, to go back and tell the others to clear off." He rocked back and forth in his wheelchair, toying with the gleaming, deadly blaster in his hand. We stared in horror. It was a nightmare—sitting there, placidly rocking back and forth, a nightmare. I found myself fervently wishing I was back out there on the infinitely safer desert. "Do I shock you?" he asked. "I shouldn't—not when you see my motives." "We don't see them," I snapped. "Well, let me show you. You're on Mars hunting uranium, right? To mine and ship the radioactives back to Earth to keep the atomic engines going. Right?" I nodded over at our geiger counters. "We volunteered to come to Mars," Val said irrelevantly. "Ah—two young heroes," Ledman said acidly. "How sad. I could almost feel sorry for you. Almost." "Just what is it you're after?" I said, stalling, stalling. "Atomics cost me my legs," he said. "You remember the Sadlerville Blast?" he asked. "Of course." And I did, too. I'd never forget it. No one would. How could I forget that great accident—killing hundreds, injuring thousands more, sterilizing forty miles of Mississippi land—when the Sadlerville pile went up? "I was there on business at the time," Ledman said. "I represented Ledman Atomics. I was there to sign a new contract for my company. You know who I am, now?" I nodded. "I was fairly well shielded when it happened. I never got the contract, but I got a good dose of radiation instead. Not enough to kill me," he said. "Just enough to necessitate the removal of—" he indicated the empty space at his thighs. "So I got off lightly." He gestured at the wheelchair blanket. I still didn't understand. "But why kill us Geigs? We had nothing to do with it." "You're just in this by accident," he said. "You see, after the explosion and the amputation, my fellow-members on the board of Ledman Atomics decided that a semi-basket case like myself was a poor risk as Head of the Board, and they took my company away. All quite legal, I assure you. They left me almost a pauper!" Then he snapped the punchline at me. "They renamed Ledman Atomics. Who did you say you worked for?" I began, "Uran—" "Don't bother. A more inventive title than Ledman Atomics, but not quite as much heart, wouldn't you say?" He grinned. "I saved for years; then I came to Mars, lost myself, built this Dome, and swore to get even. There's not a great deal of uranium on this planet, but enough to keep me in a style to which, unfortunately, I'm no longer accustomed." He consulted his wrist watch. "Time for my injection." He pulled out the tanglegun and sprayed us again, just to make doubly certain. "That's another little souvenir of Sadlerville. I'm short on red blood corpuscles." He rolled over to a wall table and fumbled in a container among a pile of hypodermics. "There are other injections, too. Adrenalin, insulin. Others. The Blast turned me into a walking pin-cushion. But I'll pay it all back," he said. He plunged the needle into his arm. My eyes widened. It was too nightmarish to be real. I wasn't seriously worried about his threat to wipe out the entire Geig Corps, since it was unlikely that one man in a wheelchair could pick us all off. No, it wasn't the threat that disturbed me, so much as the whole concept, so strange to me, that the human mind could be as warped and twisted as Ledman's. I saw the horror on Val's face, and I knew she felt the same way I did. "Do you really think you can succeed?" I taunted him. "Really think you can kill every Earthman on Mars? Of all the insane, cockeyed—" Val's quick, worried head-shake cut me off. But Ledman had felt my words, all right. "Yes! I'll get even with every one of you for taking away my legs! If we hadn't meddled with the atom in the first place, I'd be as tall and powerful as you, today—instead of a useless cripple in a wheelchair." "You're sick, Gregory Ledman," Val said quietly. "You've conceived an impossible scheme of revenge and now you're taking it out on innocent people who've done nothing, nothing at all to you. That's not sane!" His eyes blazed. "Who are you to talk of sanity?" Uneasily I caught Val's glance from a corner of my eye. Sweat was rolling down her smooth forehead faster than the auto-wiper could swab it away. "Why don't you do something? What are you waiting for, Ron?" "Easy, baby," I said. I knew what our ace in the hole was. But I had to get Ledman within reach of me first. "Enough," he said. "I'm going to turn you loose outside, right after—" " Get sick! " I hissed to Val, low. She began immediately to cough violently, emitting harsh, choking sobs. "Can't breathe!" She began to yell, writhing in her bonds. That did it. Ledman hadn't much humanity left in him, but there was a little. He lowered the blaster a bit and wheeled one-hand over to see what was wrong with Val. She continued to retch and moan most horribly. It almost convinced me. I saw Val's pale, frightened face turn to me. He approached and peered down at her. He opened his mouth to say something, and at that moment I snapped my leg up hard, tearing the tangle-cord with a snicking rasp, and kicked his wheelchair over. The blaster went off, burning a hole through the Dome roof. The automatic sealers glued-in instantly. Ledman went sprawling helplessly out into the middle of the floor, the wheelchair upended next to him, its wheels slowly revolving in the air. The blaster flew from his hands at the impact of landing and spun out near me. In one quick motion I rolled over and covered it with my body. Ledman clawed his way to me with tremendous effort and tried wildly to pry the blaster out from under me, but without success. I twisted a bit, reached out with my free leg, and booted him across the floor. He fetched up against the wall of the Dome and lay there. Val rolled over to me. "Now if I could get free of this stuff," I said, "I could get him covered before he comes to. But how?" "Teamwork," Val said. She swivelled around on the floor until her head was near my boot. "Push my oxymask off with your foot, if you can." I searched for the clamp and tried to flip it. No luck, with my heavy, clumsy boot. I tried again, and this time it snapped open. I got the tip of my boot in and pried upward. The oxymask came off, slowly, scraping a jagged red scratch up the side of Val's neck as it came. "There," she breathed. "That's that." I looked uneasily at Ledman. He was groaning and beginning to stir. Val rolled on the floor and her face lay near my right arm. I saw what she had in mind. She began to nibble the vile-tasting tangle-cord, running her teeth up and down it until it started to give. She continued unfailingly. Finally one strand snapped. Then another. At last I had enough use of my hand to reach out and grasp the blaster. Then I pulled myself across the floor to Ledman, removed the tanglegun, and melted the remaining tangle-cord off. My muscles were stiff and bunched, and rising made me wince. I turned and freed Val. Then I turned and faced Ledman. "I suppose you'll kill me now," he said. "No. That's the difference between sane people and insane," I told him. "I'm not going to kill you at all. I'm going to see to it that you're sent back to Earth." " No! " he shouted. "No! Anything but back there. I don't want to face them again—not after what they did to me—" "Not so loud," I broke in. "They'll help you on Earth. They'll take all the hatred and sickness out of you, and turn you into a useful member of society again." "I hate Earthmen," he spat out. "I hate all of them." "I know," I said sarcastically. "You're just all full of hate. You hated us so much that you couldn't bear to hang around on Earth for as much as a year after the Sadlerville Blast. You had to take right off for Mars without a moment's delay, didn't you? You hated Earth so much you had to leave." "Why are you telling all this to me?" "Because if you'd stayed long enough, you'd have used some of your pension money to buy yourself a pair of prosthetic legs, and then you wouldn't need this wheelchair." Ledman scowled, and then his face went belligerent again. "They told me I was paralyzed below the waist. That I'd never walk again, even with prosthetic legs, because I had no muscles to fit them to." "You left Earth too quickly," Val said. "It was the only way," he protested. "I had to get off—" "She's right," I told him. "The atom can take away, but it can give as well. Soon after you left they developed atomic-powered prosthetics—amazing things, virtually robot legs. All the survivors of the Sadlerville Blast were given the necessary replacement limbs free of charge. All except you. You were so sick you had to get away from the world you despised and come here." "You're lying," he said. "It's not true!" "Oh, but it is," Val smiled. I saw him wilt visibly, and for a moment I almost felt sorry for him, a pathetic legless figure propped up against the wall of the Dome at blaster-point. But then I remembered he'd killed twelve Geigs—or more—and would have added Val to the number had he had the chance. "You're a very sick man, Ledman," I said. "All this time you could have been happy, useful on Earth, instead of being holed up here nursing your hatred. You might have been useful, on Earth. But you decided to channel everything out as revenge." "I still don't believe it—those legs. I might have walked again. No—no, it's all a lie. They told me I'd never walk," he said, weakly but stubbornly still. I could see his whole structure of hate starting to topple, and I decided to give it the final push. "Haven't you wondered how I managed to break the tangle-cord when I kicked you over?" "Yes—human legs aren't strong enough to break tangle-cord that way." "Of course not," I said. I gave Val the blaster and slipped out of my oxysuit. "Look," I said. I pointed to my smooth, gleaming metal legs. The almost soundless purr of their motors was the only noise in the room. "I was in the Sadlerville Blast, too," I said. "But I didn't go crazy with hate when I lost my legs." Ledman was sobbing. "Okay, Ledman," I said. Val got him into his suit, and brought him the fishbowl helmet. "Get your helmet on and let's go. Between the psychs and the prosthetics men, you'll be a new man inside of a year." "But I'm a murderer!" "That's right. And you'll be sentenced to psych adjustment. When they're finished, Gregory Ledman the killer will be as dead as if they'd electrocuted you, but there'll be a new—and sane—Gregory Ledman." I turned to Val. "Got the geigers, honey?" For the first time since Ledman had caught us, I remembered how tired Val had been out on the desert. I realized now that I had been driving her mercilessly—me, with my chromium legs and atomic-powered muscles. No wonder she was ready to fold! And I'd been too dense to see how unfair I had been. She lifted the geiger harnesses, and I put Ledman back in his wheelchair. Val slipped her oxymask back on and fastened it shut. "Let's get back to the Dome in a hurry," I said. "We'll turn Ledman over to the authorities. Then we can catch the next ship for Earth." "Go back? Go back? If you think I'm backing down now and quitting you can find yourself another wife! After we dump this guy I'm sacking in for twenty hours, and then we're going back out there to finish that search-pattern. Earth needs uranium, honey, and I know you'd never be happy quitting in the middle like that." She smiled. "I can't wait to get out there and start listening for those tell-tale clicks." I gave a joyful whoop and swung her around. When I put her down, she squeezed my hand, hard. "Let's get moving, fellow hero," she said. I pressed the stud for the airlock, smiling. THE END Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories September 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note. | B. It is UranCo's method of acquiring manpower for the resource search |
How was Johnson convinced to buy the case astroid fever medication?
A. Proven statistics showing that it was the best antidote
B. Joe's acting skills
C. He felt feverish and thought he may have contracted the illness
D. A price too good that could not be turned down
| GRIFTERS' ASTEROID By H. L. GOLD Harvey and Joe were the slickest con-men ever to gyp a space-lane sucker. Or so they thought! Angus Johnson knew differently. He charged them five buckos for a glass of water—and got it! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories May 1943. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Characteristically, Harvey Ellsworth tried to maintain his dignity, though his parched tongue was almost hanging out. But Joe Mallon, with no dignity to maintain, lurched across the rubbish-strewn patch of land that had been termed a spaceport. When Harvey staggered pontifically into the battered metalloy saloon—the only one on Planetoid 42—his tall, gangling partner was already stumbling out, mouthing something incoherent. They met in the doorway, violently. "We're delirious!" Joe cried. "It's a mirage!" "What is?" asked Harvey through a mouthful of cotton. Joe reeled aside, and Harvey saw what had upset his partner. He stared, speechless for once. In their hectic voyages from planet to planet, the pair of panacea purveyors had encountered the usual strange life-forms. But never had they seen anything like the amazing creature in that colonial saloon. Paying no attention to them, it was carrying a case of liquor in two hands, six siphons in two others, and a broom and dustpan in the remaining pair. The bartender, a big man resembling the plumpish Harvey in build, was leaning negligently on the counter, ordering this impossible being to fill the partly-emptied bottles, squeeze fruit juice and sweep the floor, all of which the native did simultaneously. "Nonsense," Harvey croaked uncertainly. "We have seen enough queer things to know there are always more." He led the way inside. Through thirst-cracked lips he rasped: "Water—quick!" Without a word, the bartender reached under the counter, brought out two glasses of water. The interplanetary con-men drank noisily, asked for more, until they had drunk eight glasses. Meanwhile, the bartender had taken out eight jiggers and filled them with whiskey. Harvey and Joe were breathing hard from having gulped the water so fast, but they were beginning to revive. They noticed the bartender's impersonal eyes studying them shrewdly. "Strangers, eh?" he asked at last. "Solar salesmen, my colonial friend," Harvey answered in his usual lush manner. "We purvey that renowned Martian remedy, La-anago Yergis , the formula for which was recently discovered by ourselves in the ancient ruined city of La-anago. Medical science is unanimous in proclaiming this magic medicine the sole panacea in the entire history of therapeutics." "Yeah?" said the bartender disinterestedly, polishing the chaser glasses without washing them. "Where you heading?" "Out of Mars for Ganymede. Our condenser broke down, and we've gone without water for five ghastly days." "Got a mechanic around this dumping ground you call a port?" Joe asked. "We did. He came near starving and moved on to Titan. Ships don't land here unless they're in trouble." "Then where's the water lead-in? We'll fill up and push off." "Mayor takes care of that," replied the saloon owner. "If you gents're finished at the bar, your drinks'll be forty buckos." Harvey grinned puzzledly. "We didn't take any whiskey." "Might as well. Water's five buckos a glass. Liquor's free with every chaser." Harvey's eyes bulged. Joe gulped. "That—that's robbery!" the lanky man managed to get out in a thin quaver. The barkeeper shrugged. "When there ain't many customers, you gotta make more on each one. Besides—" "Besides nothing!" Joe roared, finding his voice again. "You dirty crook—robbing poor spacemen! You—" "You dirty crook!" Joe roared. "Robbing honest spacemen!" Harvey nudged him warningly. "Easy, my boy, easy." He turned to the bartender apologetically. "Don't mind my friend. His adrenal glands are sometimes overactive. You were going to say—?" The round face of the barkeeper had assumed an aggrieved expression. "Folks are always thinkin' the other feller's out to do 'em," he said, shaking his head. "Lemme explain about the water here. It's bitter as some kinds of sin before it's purified. Have to bring it in with buckets and make it sweet. That takes time and labor. Waddya think—I was chargin' feller critters for water just out of devilment? I charge because I gotta." "Friend," said Harvey, taking out a wallet and counting off eight five-bucko bills, "here is your money. What's fair is fair, and you have put a different complexion on what seemed at first to be an unconscionable interjection of a middleman between Nature and man's thirst." The saloon man removed his dirty apron and came around the bar. "If that's an apology, I accept it. Now the mayor'll discuss filling your tanks. That's me. I'm also justice of the peace, official recorder, fire chief...." "And chief of police, no doubt," said Harvey jocosely. "Nope. That's my son, Jed. Angus Johnson's my name. Folks here just call me Chief. I run this town, and run it right. How much water will you need?" Joe estimated quickly. "About seventy-five liters, if we go on half rations," he answered. He waited apprehensively. "Let's say ten buckos a liter," the mayor said. "On account of the quantity, I'm able to quote a bargain price. Shucks, boys, it hurts me more to charge for water than it does for you to pay. I just got to, that's all." The mayor gestured to the native, who shuffled out to the tanks with them. The planetoid man worked the pump while the mayor intently watched the crude level-gauge, crying "Stop!" when it registered the proper amount. Then Johnson rubbed his thumb on his index finger and wetted his lips expectantly. Harvey bravely counted off the bills. He asked: "But what are we to do about replenishing our battery fluid? Ten buckos a liter would be preposterous. We simply can't afford it." Johnson's response almost floored them. "Who said anything about charging you for battery water? You can have all you want for nothing. It's just the purified stuff that comes so high." After giving them directions that would take them to the free-water pool, the ponderous factotum of Planetoid 42 shook hands and headed back to the saloon. His six-armed assistant followed him inside. "Now do you see, my hot-tempered colleague?" said Harvey as he and Joe picked up buckets that hung on the tank. "Johnson, as I saw instantly, is the victim of a difficult environment, and must charge accordingly." "Just the same," Joe griped, "paying for water isn't something you can get used to in ten minutes." In the fragile forest, they soon came across a stream that sprang from the igneous soil and splashed into the small pond whose contents, according to the mayor, was theirs for the asking. They filled their buckets and hauled them to the ship, then returned for more. It was on the sixth trip that Joe caught a glimpse of Jupiter-shine on a bright surface off to the left. The figure, 750, with the bucko sign in front of it, was still doing acrobatics inside his skull and keeping a faint suspicion alive in him. So he called Harvey and they went to investigate. Among the skimpy ground-crawling vines, they saw a long slender mound that was unmistakably a buried pipe. "What's this doing here?" Harvey asked, puzzled. "I thought Johnson had to transport water in pails." "Wonder where it leads to," Joe said uneasily. "It leads to the saloon," said Harvey, his eyes rapidly tracing the pipe back toward the spaceport. "What I am concerned with is where it leads from ." Five minutes later, panting heavily from the unaccustomed exertion of scrambling through the tangle of planetorial undergrowth, they burst into the open—before a clear, sparkling pool. Mutely, Harvey pointed out a pipe-end jutting under the water. "I am growing suspicious," he said in a rigidly controlled voice. But Joe was already on his knees, scooping up a handful of water and tasting it. "Sweet!" he snarled. They rushed back to the first pool, where Joe again tasted a sample. His mouth went wry. "Bitter! He uses only one pool, the sweet one! The only thing that needs purifying around here is that blasted mayor's conscience." "The asteroidal Poobah has tricked us with a slick come-on," said Harvey slowly. His eyes grew cold. "Joseph, the good-natured artist in me has become a hard and merciless avenger. I shall not rest until we have had the best of this colonial con-man! Watch your cues from this point hence." Fists clenched, the two returned to the saloon. But at the door they stopped and their fists unclenched. "Thought you gents were leaving," the mayor called out, seeing them frozen in the doorway. "Glad you didn't. Now you can meet my son, Jed. Him and me are the whole Earthman population of Johnson City." "You don't need any more," said Harvey, dismayed. Johnson's eight-foot son, topped by a massive roof of sun-bleached hair and held up by a foundation that seemed immovable, had obviously been born and raised in low gravity. For any decent-sized world would have kept him down near the general dimensions of a man. He held out an acre of palm. Harvey studied it worriedly, put his own hand somewhere on it, swallowed as it closed, then breathed again when his fingers were released in five units instead of a single compressed one. "Pleased to meet you," piped a voice that had never known a dense atmosphere. The pursuit of vengeance, Harvey realized, had taken a quick and unpleasant turn. Something shrewd was called for.... "Joseph!" he exclaimed, looking at his partner in alarm. "Don't you feel well?" Even before the others could turn to him, Joe's practiced eyes were gently crossing. He sagged against the door frame, all his features drooping like a bloodhound's. "Bring him in here!" Johnson cried. "I mean, get him away! He's coming down with asteroid fever!" "Of course," replied Harvey calmly. "Any fool knows the first symptoms of the disease that once scourged the universe." "What do you mean, once ?" demanded Johnson. "I come down with it every year, and I ain't hankering to have it in an off-season. Get him out of here!" "In good time. He can't be moved immediately." "Then he'll be here for months!" Harvey helped Joe to the counter and lifted him up on it. The mayor and his gigantic offspring were cowering across the room, trying to breathe in tiny, uncontaminating gasps. "You'll find everything you want in the back room," Johnson said frantically, "sulfopyridine, mustard plasters, rubs, inhalers, suction cups—" "Relics of the past," Harvey stated. "One medication is all modern man requires to combat the dread menace, asteroid fever." "What's that?" asked the mayor without conviction. Instead of replying, Harvey hurried outside to the ungainly second-hand rocket ship in the center of the shabby spaceport. He returned within a few minutes, carrying a bottle. Joe was still stretched out on the bar, panting, his eyes slowly crossing and uncrossing. Harvey lifted the patient's head tenderly, put the bottle to his lips and tilted it until he was forced to drink. When Joe tried to pull away, Harvey was inexorable. He made his partner drink until most of the liquid was gone. Then he stepped back and waited for the inevitable result. Joe's performance was better than ever. He lay supine for several moments, his face twisted into an expression that seemed doomed to perpetual wryness. Slowly, however, he sat up and his features straightened out. "Are—are you all right?" asked the mayor anxiously. "Much better," said Joe in a weak voice. "Maybe you need another dose," Harvey suggested. Joe recoiled. "I'm fine now!" he cried, and sprang off the bar to prove it. Astonished, Johnson and his son drew closer. They searched Joe's face, and then the mayor timidly felt his pulse. "Well, I'll be hanged!" Johnson ejaculated. " La-anago Yergis never fails, my friend," Harvey explained. "By actual test, it conquers asteroid fever in from four to twenty-three minutes, depending on the severity of the attack. Luckily, we caught this one before it grew formidable." The mayor's eyes became clouded mirrors of an inward conflict. "If you don't charge too much," he said warily, "I might think of buying some." "We do not sell this unbelievable remedy," Harvey replied with dignity. "It sells itself." "'Course, I'd expect a considerable reduction if I bought a whole case," said Johnson. "That would be the smallest investment you could make, compared with the vast loss of time and strength the fever involves." "How much?" asked the mayor unhappily. "For you, since you have taken us in so hospitably, a mere five hundred buckos." Johnson did not actually stagger back, but he gave the impression of doing so. "F-four hundred," he offered. "Not a red cent less than four seventy-five," Harvey said flatly. "Make it four fifty," quavered Johnson. "I dislike haggling," said Harvey. The final price, however, was four hundred and sixty-nine buckos and fifty redsents. Magnanimously, Harvey added: "And we will include, gratis , an elegant bottle-opener, a superb product of Mercurian handicraftsmanship." Johnson stabbed out a warning finger. "No tricks now. I want a taste of that stuff. You're not switching some worthless junk on me." Harvey took a glass from the bar and poured him a generous sample. The mayor sniffed it, grimaced, then threw it down his gullet. The ensuing minute saw a grim battle between a man and his stomach, a battle which the man gradually won. "There ain't no words for that taste," he gulped when it was safe to talk again. "Medicine," Harvey propounded, "should taste like medicine." To Joe he said: "Come, my esteemed colleague. We must perform the sacred task to which we have dedicated ourselves." With Joe stumbling along behind, he left the saloon, crossed the clearing and entered the ship. As soon as they were inside, Joe dropped his murderous silence and cried: "What kind of a dirty trick was that, giving me poison instead of that snake oil?" "That was not poison," Harvey contradicted quietly. "It was La-anago Yergis extract, plus." "Plus what—arsenic?" "Now, Joseph! Consider my quandary when I came back here to manufacture our specific for all known ailments, with the intention of selling yonder asteroidal tin-horn a bill of medical goods—an entire case, mind you. Was I to mix the extract with the water for which we had been swindled to the tune of ten buckos a liter? Where would our profit have been, then? No; I had to use the bitter free water, of course." "But why use it on me?" Joe demanded furiously. Harvey looked reprovingly at his gangling partner. "Did Johnson ask to taste it, or did he not? One must look ahead, Joseph. I had to produce the same medicine that we will now manufacture. Thus, you were a guinea pig for a splendid cause." "Okay, okay," Joe said. "But you shoulda charged him more." "Joseph, I promise you that we shall get back every redsent of which that swindler cheated us, besides whatever other funds or valuables he possesses. We could not be content with less." "Well, we're starting all right," admitted Joe. "How about that thing with six arms? He looks like a valuable. Can't we grab him off?" Harvey stopped filling bottles and looked up pensively. "I have every hope of luring away the profitable monstrosity. Apparently you have also surmised the fortune we could make with him. At first I purpose to exhibit him on our interplanetary tours with our streamlined panacea; he would be a spectacular attraction for bucolic suckers. Later, a brief period of demonstrating his abilities on the audio-visiphone. Then our triumph—we shall sell him at a stupendous figure to the zoo!" Joe was still dazed by that monetary vista when he and Harvey carried the case of medicine to the saloon. The mayor had already cleared a place of honor in the cluttered back room, where he told them to put it down carefully. Then he took the elaborate bottle-opener Harvey gave him, reverently uncorked a bottle and sampled it. It must have been at least as good as the first; he gagged. "That's the stuff, all right," he said, swallowing hard. He counted out the money into Harvey's hand, at a moderate rate that precariously balanced between his pleasure at getting the fever remedy and his pain at paying for it. Then he glanced out to see the position of Jupiter, and asked: "You gents eaten yet? The restaurant's open now." Harvey and Joe looked at each other. They hadn't been thinking about food at all, but suddenly they realized that they were hungry. "It's only water we were short of," Harvey said apprehensively. "We've got rations back at the ship." " H-mph! " the mayor grunted. "Powdered concentrates. Compressed pap. Suit yourselves. We treat our stomachs better here. And you're welcome to our hospitality." "Your hospitality," said Harvey, "depends on the prices you charge." "Well, if that's what's worrying you, you can stop worrying," answered the mayor promptly. "What's more, the kind of dinner I serve here you can't get anywhere else for any price." Swiftly, Harvey conned the possibilities of being bilked again. He saw none. "Let's take a look at the menu, anyhow, Joe," he said guardedly. Johnson immediately fell into the role of "mine host." "Come right in, gents," he invited. "Right into the dining room." He seated them at a table, which a rope tied between posts made more or less private, though nobody else was in the saloon and there was little chance of company. Genius, the six-armed native, appeared from the dingy kitchen with two menus in one hand, two glasses of water in another, plus napkins, silverware, a pitcher, plates, saucers, cups, and their cocktails, which were on the house. Then he stood by for orders. Harvey and Joe studied the menu critically. The prices were phenomenally low. When they glanced up at Johnson in perplexity, he grinned, bowed and asked: "Everything satisfactory, gents?" "Quite," said Harvey. "We shall order." For an hour they were served amazing dishes, both fresh and canned, the culinary wealth of this planetoid and all the system. And the service was as extraordinary as the meal itself. With four hands, Genius played deftly upon a pair of mellow Venusian viotars , using his other two hands for waiting on the table. "We absolutely must purchase this incredible specimen," Harvey whispered excitedly when Johnson and the native were both in the kitchen, attending to the next course. "He would make any society hostess's season a riotous success, which should be worth a great sum to women like Mrs. van Schuyler-Morgan, merely for his hire." "Think of a fast one fast," Joe agreed. "You're right." "But I dislike having to revise my opinion of a man so often," complained Harvey. "I wish Johnson would stay either swindler or honest merchant. This dinner is worth as least twenty buckos, yet I estimate our check at a mere bucko twenty redsents." The mayor's appearance prevented them from continuing the discussion. "It's been a great honor, gents," he said. "Ain't often I have visitors, and I like the best, like you two gents." As if on cue, Genius came out and put the check down between Joe and Harvey. Harvey picked it up negligently, but his casual air vanished in a yelp of horror. "What the devil is this?" he shouted.—"How do you arrive at this fantastic, idiotic figure— three hundred and twenty-eight buckos !" Johnson didn't answer. Neither did Genius; he simply put on the table, not a fingerbowl, but a magnifying glass. With one of his thirty fingers he pointed politely to the bottom of the menu. Harvey focused on the microscopic print, and his face went pasty with rage. The minute note read: "Services and entertainment, 327 buckos 80 redsents." "You can go to hell!" Joe growled. "We won't pay it!" Johnson sighed ponderously. "I was afraid you'd act like that," he said with regret. He pulled a tin badge out of his rear pocket, pinned it on his vest, and twisted his holstered gun into view. "Afraid I'll have to ask the sheriff to take over." Johnson, the "sheriff," collected the money, and Johnson, the "restaurateur," pocketed it. Meanwhile, Harvey tipped Joe the sign to remain calm. "My friend," he said to the mayor, and his tones took on a schoolmasterish severity, "your long absence from Earth has perhaps made you forget those elements of human wisdom that have entered the folk-lore of your native planet. Such as, for example: 'It is folly to kill a goose that lays golden eggs,' and 'Penny wise is pound foolish.'" "I don't get the connection," objected Johnson. "Well, by obliging us to pay such a high price for your dinner, you put out of your reach the chance of profiting from a really substantial deal. My partner and I were prepared to make you a sizable offer for the peculiar creature you call Genius. But by reducing our funds the way you have—" "Who said I wanted to sell him?" the mayor interrupted. He rubbed his fingers together and asked disinterestedly: "What were you going to offer, anyhow?" "It doesn't matter any longer," Harvey said with elaborate carelessness. "Perhaps you wouldn't have accepted it, anyway." "That's right," Johnson came back emphatically. "But what would your offer have been which I would have turned down?" "Which one? The one we were going to make, or the one we can make now?" "Either one. It don't make no difference. Genius is too valuable to sell." "Oh, come now, Mr. Johnson. Don't tell me no amount of money would tempt you!" "Nope. But how much did you say?" "Ah, then you will consider releasing Genius!" "Well, I'll tell you something," said the mayor confidentially. "When you've got one thing, you've got one thing. But when you've got money, it's the same as having a lot of things. Because, if you've got money, you can buy this and that and this and that and—" "This and that," concluded Joe. "We'll give you five hundred buckos." "Now, gents!" Johnson remonstrated. "Why, six hundred would hardly—" "You haven't left us much money," Harvey put in. The mayor frowned. "All right, we'll split the difference. Make it five-fifty." Harvey was quick to pay out, for this was a genuine windfall. Then he stood up and admired the astonishing possession he had so inexpensively acquired. "I really hate to deprive you of this unique creature," he said to Johnson. "I should imagine you will be rather lonely, with only your filial mammoth to keep you company." "I sure will," Johnson confessed glumly. "I got pretty attached to Genius, and I'm going to miss him something awful." Harvey forcibly removed his eyes from the native, who was clearing off the table almost all at once. "My friend," he said, "we take your only solace, it is true, but in his place we can offer something no less amazing and instructive." The mayor's hand went protectively to his pocket. "What is it?" he asked with the suspicion of a man who has seen human nature at its worst and expects nothing better. "Joseph, get our most prized belonging from the communications room of the ship," Harvey instructed. To Johnson he explained: "You must see the wondrous instrument before its value can be appreciated. My partner will soon have it here for your astonishment." Joe's face grew as glum as Johnson's had been. "Aw, Harv," he protested, "do we have to sell it? And right when I thought we were getting the key!" "We must not be selfish, my boy," Harvey said nobly. "We have had our chance; now we must relinquish Fate to the hands of a man who might have more success than we. Go, Joseph. Bring it here." Unwillingly, Joe turned and shuffled out. On a larger and heavier world than Planetoid 42, Johnson's curiosity would probably have had weight and mass. He was bursting with questions, but he was obviously afraid they would cost him money. For his part, Harvey allowed that curiosity to grow like a Venusian amoeba until Joe came in, lugging a radio. "Is that what you were talking about?" the mayor snorted. "What makes you think I want a radio? I came here to get away from singers and political speech-makers." "Do not jump to hasty conclusions," Harvey cautioned. "Another word, and I shall refuse you the greatest opportunity any man has ever had, with the sole exceptions of Joseph, myself and the unfortunate inventor of this absolutely awe-inspiring device." "I ain't in the market for a radio," Johnson said stubbornly. Harvey nodded in relief. "We have attempted to repay our host, Joseph. He has spurned our generosity. We have now the chance to continue our study, which I am positive will soon reward us with the key to an enormous fortune." "Well, that's no plating off our bow," Joe grunted. "I'm glad he did turn it down. I hated to give it up after working on it for three whole years." He picked up the radio and began walking toward the door. "Now, hold on!" the mayor cried. "I ain't saying I'll buy, but what is it I'm turning down?" Joe returned and set the instrument down on the bar. His face sorrowful, Harvey fondly stroked the scarred plasticoid cabinet. "To make a long story, Mr. Johnson," he said, "Joseph and I were among the chosen few who knew the famous Doctor Dean intimately. Just before his tragic death, you will recall, Dean allegedly went insane." He banged his fist on the bar. "I have said it before, and I repeat again, that was a malicious lie, spread by the doctor's enemies to discredit his greatest invention—this fourth dimensional radio!" "This what?" Johnson blurted out. "In simple terms," clarified Harvey, "the ingenious doctor discovered that the yawning chasm between the dimensions could be bridged by energy of all quanta. There has never been any question that the inhabitants of the super-dimension would be far more civilized than ourselves. Consequently, the man who could tap their knowledge would find himself in possession of a powerful, undreamt-of science!" The mayor looked respectfully at the silent box on the bar. "And this thing gets broadcasts from the fourth dimension?" "It does, Mr. Johnson! Only charlatans like those who envied Doctor Dean's magnificent accomplishments could deny that fact." The mayor put his hands in his pockets, unswiveled one hip and stared thoughtfully at the battered cabinet. "Well, let's say it picks up fourth dimensional broadcasts," he conceded. "But how could you understand what they're saying? Folks up there wouldn't talk our language." Again Harvey smashed his fist down. "Do you dare to repeat the scurvy lie that broke Dean's spirit and drove him to suicide?" Johnson recoiled. "No—no, of course not . I mean, being up here, I naturally couldn't get all the details." "Naturally," Harvey agreed, mollified. "I'm sorry I lost my temper. But it is a matter of record that the doctor proved the broadcasts emanating from the super-dimension were in English! Why should that be so difficult to believe? Is it impossible that at one time there was communication between the dimensions, that the super-beings admired our language and adopted it in all its beauty, adding to it their own hyper-scientific trimmings?" "Why, I don't know," Johnson said in confusion. "For three years, Joseph and I lost sleep and hair, trying to detect the simple key that would translate the somewhat metamorphosed broadcasts into our primitive English. It eluded us. Even the doctor failed. But that was understandable; a sensitive soul like his could stand only so much. And the combination of ridicule and failure to solve the mystery caused him to take his own life." Johnson winced. "Is that what you want to unload on me?" "For a very good reason, sir. Patience is the virtue that will be rewarded with the key to these fourth dimensional broadcasts. A man who could devote his life to improving this lonely worldlet is obviously a person with unusual patience." "Yeah," the mayor said grudgingly, "I ain't exactly flighty." "Therefore, you are the man who could unravel the problem!" Johnson asked skeptically: "How about a sample first?" | B. Joe's acting skills |
What the system designs introduced? | ### Introduction
Amazon Alexa Prize BIBREF0 provides a platform to collect real human-machine conversation data and evaluate performance on speech-based social conversational systems. Our system, Gunrock BIBREF1 addresses several limitations of prior chatbots BIBREF2, BIBREF3, BIBREF4 including inconsistency and difficulty in complex sentence understanding (e.g., long utterances) and provides several contributions: First, Gunrock's multi-step language understanding modules enable the system to provide more useful information to the dialog manager, including a novel dialog act scheme. Additionally, the natural language understanding (NLU) module can handle more complex sentences, including those with coreference. Second, Gunrock interleaves actions to elicit users' opinions and provide responses to create an in-depth, engaging conversation; while a related strategy to interleave task- and non-task functions in chatbots has been proposed BIBREF5, no chatbots to our knowledge have employed a fact/opinion interleaving strategy. Finally, we use an extensive persona database to provide coherent profile information, a critical challenge in building social chatbots BIBREF3. Compared to previous systems BIBREF4, Gunrock generates more balanced conversations between human and machine by encouraging and understanding more human inputs (see Table TABREF2 for an example). ### System Architecture
Figure FIGREF3 provides an overview of Gunrock's architecture. We extend the Amazon Conversational Bot Toolkit (CoBot) BIBREF6 which is a flexible event-driven framework. CoBot provides ASR results and natural language processing pipelines through the Alexa Skills Kit (ASK) BIBREF7. Gunrock corrects ASR according to the context (asr) and creates a natural language understanding (NLU) (nlu) module where multiple components analyze the user utterances. A dialog manager (DM) (dm) uses features from NLU to select topic dialog modules and defines an individual dialog flow. Each dialog module leverages several knowledge bases (knowledge). Then a natural language generation (NLG) (nlg) module generates a corresponding response. Finally, we markup the synthesized responses and return to the users through text to speech (TTS) (tts). While we provide an overview of the system in the following sections, for detailed system implementation details, please see the technical report BIBREF1. ### System Architecture ::: Automatic Speech Recognition
Gunrock receives ASR results with the raw text and timestep information for each word in the sequence (without case information and punctuation). Keywords, especially named entities such as movie names, are prone to generate ASR errors without contextual information, but are essential for NLU and NLG. Therefore, Gunrock uses domain knowledge to correct these errors by comparing noun phrases to a knowledge base (e.g. a list of the most popular movies names) based on their phonetic information. We extract the primary and secondary code using The Double Metaphone Search Algorithm BIBREF8 for noun phrases (extracted by noun trunks) and the selected knowledge base, and suggest a potential fix by code matching. An example can be seen in User_3 and Gunrock_3 in Table TABREF2. ### System Architecture ::: Natural Language Understanding
Gunrock is designed to engage users in deeper conversation; accordingly, a user utterance can consist of multiple units with complete semantic meanings. We first split the corrected raw ASR text into sentences by inserting break tokens. An example is shown in User_3 in Table TABREF2. Meanwhile, we mask named entities before segmentation so that a named entity will not be segmented into multiple parts and an utterance with a complete meaning is maintained (e.g.,“i like the movie a star is born"). We also leverage timestep information to filter out false positive corrections. After segmentation, our coreference implementation leverages entity knowledge (such as person versus event) and replaces nouns with their actual reference by entity ranking. We implement coreference resolution on entities both within segments in a single turn as well as across multiple turns. For instance, “him" in the last segment in User_5 is replaced with “bradley cooper" in Table TABREF2. Next, we use a constituency parser to generate noun phrases from each modified segment. Within the sequence pipeline to generate complete segments, Gunrock detects (1) topic, (2) named entities, and (3) sentiment using ASK in parallel. The NLU module uses knowledge graphs including Google Knowledge Graph to call for a detailed description of each noun phrase for understanding. In order to extract the intent for each segment, we designed MIDAS, a human-machine dialog act scheme with 23 tags and implemented a multi-label dialog act classification model using contextual information BIBREF9. Next, the NLU components analyzed on each segment in a user utterance are sent to the DM and NLG module for state tracking and generation, respectively. ### System Architecture ::: Dialog Manager
We implemented a hierarchical dialog manager, consisting of a high level and low level DMs. The former leverages NLU outputs for each segment and selects the most important segment for the system as the central element using heuristics. For example, “i just finished reading harry potter," triggers Sub-DM: Books. Utilizing the central element and features extracted from NLU, input utterances are mapped onto 11 possible topic dialog modules (e.g., movies, books, animals, etc.), including a backup module, retrieval. Low level dialog management is handled by the separate topic dialog modules, which use modular finite state transducers to execute various dialog segments processed by the NLU. Using topic-specific modules enables deeper conversations that maintain the context. We design dialog flows in each of the finite state machines, as well. Dialog flow is determined by rule-based transitions between a specified fixed set of dialog states. To ensure that our states and transitions are effective, we leverage large scale user data to find high probability responses and high priority responses to handle in different contexts. Meanwhile, dialog flow is customized to each user by tracking user attributes as dialog context. In addition, each dialog flow is adaptive to user responses to show acknowledgement and understanding (e.g., talking about pet ownership in the animal module). Based on the user responses, many dialog flow variations exist to provide a fresh experience each time. This reduces the feeling of dialogs being scripted and repetitive. Our dialog flows additionally interleave facts, opinions, experiences, and questions to make the conversation flexible and interesting. In the meantime, we consider feedback signals such as “continue" and “stop" from the current topic dialog module, indicating whether it is able to respond to the following request in the dialog flow, in order to select the best response module. Additionally, in all modules we allow mixed-initiative interactions; users can trigger a new dialog module when they want to switch topics while in any state. For example, users can start a new conversation about movies from any other topic module. ### System Architecture ::: Knowledge Databases
All topic dialog modules query knowledge bases to provide information to the user. To respond to general factual questions, Gunrock queries the EVI factual database , as well as other up-to-date scraped information appropriate for the submodule, such as news and current showing movies in a specific location from databases including IMDB. One contribution of Gunrock is the extensive Gunrock Persona Backstory database, consisting of over 1,000 responses to possible questions for Gunrock as well as reasoning for her responses for roughly 250 questions (see Table 2). We designed the system responses to elicit a consistent personality within and across modules, modeled as a female individual who is positive, outgoing, and is interested in science and technology. ### System Architecture ::: Natural Language Generation
In order to avoid repetitive and non-specific responses commonly seen in dialog systems BIBREF10, Gunrock uses a template manager to select from a handcrafted response templates based on the dialog state. One dialog state can map to multiple response templates with similar semantic or functional content but differing surface forms. Among these response templates for the same dialog state, one is randomly selected without repetition to provide variety unless all have been exhausted. When a response template is selected, any slots are substituted with actual contents, including queried information for news and specific data for weather. For example, to ground a movie name due to ASR errors or multiple versions, one template is “Are you talking about {movie_title} released in {release_year} starring {actor_name} as {actor_role}?". Module-specific templates were generated for each topic (e.g., animals), but some of the templates are generalizable across different modules (e.g., “What’s your favorite [movie $|$ book $|$ place to visit]?") In many cases, response templates corresponding to different dialog acts are dynamically composed to give the final response. For example, an appropriate acknowledgement for the user’s response can be combined with a predetermined follow-up question. ### System Architecture ::: Text To Speech
After NLG, we adjust the TTS of the system to improve the expressiveness of the voice to convey that the system is an engaged and active participant in the conversation. We use a rule-based system to systematically add interjections, specifically Alexa Speechcons, and fillers to approximate human-like cognitive-emotional expression BIBREF11. For more on the framework and analysis of the TTS modifications, see BIBREF12. ### Analysis
From January 5, 2019 to March 5, 2019, we collected conversational data for Gunrock. During this time, no other code updates occurred. We analyzed conversations for Gunrock with at least 3 user turns to avoid conversations triggered by accident. Overall, this resulted in a total of 34,432 user conversations. Together, these users gave Gunrock an average rating of 3.65 (median: 4.0), which was elicited at the end of the conversation (“On a scale from 1 to 5 stars, how do you feel about talking to this socialbot again?"). Users engaged with Gunrock for an average of 20.92 overall turns (median 13.0), with an average of 6.98 words per utterance, and had an average conversation time of 7.33 minutes (median: 2.87 min.). We conducted three principal analyses: users' response depth (wordcount), backstory queries (backstorypersona), and interleaving of personal and factual responses (pets). ### Analysis ::: Response Depth: Mean Word Count
Two unique features of Gunrock are its ability to dissect longer, complex sentences, and its methods to encourage users to be active conversationalists, elaborating on their responses. In prior work, even if users are able to drive the conversation, often bots use simple yes/no questions to control the conversational flow to improve understanding; as a result, users are more passive interlocutors in the conversation. We aimed to improve user engagement by designing the conversation to have more open-ended opinion/personal questions, and show that the system can understand the users' complex utterances (See nlu for details on NLU). Accordingly, we ask if users' speech behavior will reflect Gunrock's technical capability and conversational strategy, producing longer sentences. We assessed the degree of conversational depth by measuring users' mean word count. Prior work has found that an increase in word count has been linked to improved user engagement (e.g., in a social dialog system BIBREF13). For each user conversation, we extracted the overall rating, the number of turns of the interaction, and the user's per-utterance word count (averaged across all utterances). We modeled the relationship between word count and the two metrics of user engagement (overall rating, mean number of turns) in separate linear regressions. Results showed that users who, on average, produced utterances with more words gave significantly higher ratings ($\beta $=0.01, SE=0.002, t=4.79, p$<$0.001)(see Figure 2) and engaged with Gunrock for significantly greater number of turns ($\beta $=1.85, SE=0.05, t=35.58, p$<$0.001) (see Figure 2). These results can be interpreted as evidence for Gunrock's ability to handle complex sentences, where users are not constrained to simple responses to be understood and feel engaged in the conversation – and evidence that individuals are more satisfied with the conversation when they take a more active role, rather than the system dominating the dialog. On the other hand, another interpretation is that users who are more talkative may enjoy talking to the bot in general, and thus give higher ratings in tandem with higher average word counts. ### Analysis ::: Gunrock's Backstory and Persona
We assessed the user's interest in Gunrock by tagging instances where the user triggered Gunrock's backstory (e.g., “What's your favorite color?"). For users with at least one backstory question, we modeled overall (log) Rating with a linear regression by the (log) `Number of Backstory Questions Asked' (log transformed due to the variables' nonlinear relationship). We hypothesized that users who show greater curiosity about Gunrock will display higher overall ratings for the conversation based on her responses. Overall, the number of times users queried Gunrock's backstory was strongly related to the rating they gave at the end of the interaction (log:$\beta $=0.10, SE=0.002, t=58.4, p$<$0.001)(see Figure 3). This suggests that maintaining a consistent personality — and having enough responses to questions the users are interested in — may improve user satisfaction. ### Analysis ::: Interleaving Personal and Factual Information: Animal Module
Gunrock includes a specific topic module on animals, which includes a factual component where the system provides animal facts, as well as a more personalized component about pets. Our system is designed to engage users about animals in a more casual conversational style BIBREF14, eliciting follow-up questions if the user indicates they have a pet; if we are able to extract the pet's name, we refer to it in the conversation (e.g., “Oliver is a great name for a cat!", “How long have you had Oliver?"). In cases where the user does not indicate that they have a pet, the system solely provides animal facts. Therefore, the animal module can serve as a test of our interleaving strategy: we hypothesized that combining facts and personal questions — in this case about the user's pet — would lead to greater user satisfaction overall. We extracted conversations where Gunrock asked the user if they had ever had a pet and categorized responses as “Yes", “No", or “NA" (if users did not respond with an affirmative or negative response). We modeled user rating with a linear regression model, with predictor of “Has Pet' (2 levels: Yes, No). We found that users who talked to Gunrock about their pet showed significantly higher overall ratings of the conversation ($\beta $=0.15, SE=0.06, t=2.53, p$=$0.016) (see Figure 4). One interpretation is that interleaving factual information with more in-depth questions about their pet result in improved user experience. Yet, another interpretation is that pet owners may be more friendly and amenable to a socialbot; for example, prior research has linked differences in personality to pet ownership BIBREF15. ### Conclusion
Gunrock is a social chatbot that focuses on having long and engaging speech-based conversations with thousands of real users. Accordingly, our architecture employs specific modules to handle longer and complex utterances and encourages users to be more active in a conversation. Analysis shows that users' speech behavior reflects these capabilities. Longer sentences and more questions about Gunrocks's backstory positively correlate with user experience. Additionally, we find evidence for interleaved dialog flow, where combining factual information with personal opinions and stories improve user satisfaction. Overall, this work has practical applications, in applying these design principles to other social chatbots, as well as theoretical implications, in terms of the nature of human-computer interaction (cf. 'Computers are Social Actors' BIBREF16). Our results suggest that users are engaging with Gunrock in similar ways to other humans: in chitchat about general topics (e.g., animals, movies, etc.), taking interest in Gunrock's backstory and persona, and even producing more information about themselves in return. ### Acknowledgments
We would like to acknowledge the help from Amazon in terms of financial and technical support. Figure 1: Gunrock system architecture Figure 2: Mean user rating by mean number of words. Error bars show standard error. Figure 3: Mean user rating based on number of queries to Gunrock’s backstory. Error bars show standard error. Figure 4: Mean user rating based ’Has Pet’. Error bars show standard error. | Amazon Conversational Bot Toolkit, natural language understanding (NLU) (nlu) module, dialog manager, knowledge bases, natural language generation (NLG) (nlg) module, text to speech (TTS) (tts) |
Why did the recruiter offer Lawrence $50 Galactic a week?
A. That was what was promised to all travelers to Earth for display.
B. He was able to offer him less, knowing he would still accept and be grateful.
C. He could be paid less because he was smaller and less of an attraction.
D. He would be paid less because he would also be reimbursed for expenses and have free travel.
| Birds of a Feather By ROBERT SILVERBERG Illustrated by WOOD [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Magazine November 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Getting specimens for the interstellar zoo was no problem—they battled for the honor—but now I had to fight like a wildcat to keep a display from making a monkey of me! It was our first day of recruiting on the planet, and the alien life-forms had lined up for hundreds of feet back from my rented office. As I came down the block from the hotel, I could hear and see and smell them with ease. My three staff men, Auchinleck, Stebbins and Ludlow, walked shieldwise in front of me. I peered between them to size the crop up. The aliens came in every shape and form, in all colors and textures—and all of them eager for a Corrigan contract. The Galaxy is full of bizarre beings, but there's barely a species anywhere that can resist the old exhibitionist urge. "Send them in one at a time," I told Stebbins. I ducked into the office, took my place back of the desk and waited for the procession to begin. The name of the planet was MacTavish IV (if you went by the official Terran listing) or Ghryne (if you called it by what its people were accustomed to calling it). I thought of it privately as MacTavish IV and referred to it publicly as Ghryne. I believe in keeping the locals happy wherever I go. Through the front window of the office, I could see our big gay tridim sign plastered to a facing wall: WANTED—EXTRATERRESTRIALS! We had saturated MacTavish IV with our promotional poop for a month preceding arrival. Stuff like this: Want to visit Earth—see the Galaxy's most glittering and exclusive world? Want to draw good pay, work short hours, experience the thrills of show business on romantic Terra? If you are a non-terrestrial, there may be a place for you in the Corrigan Institute of Morphological Science. No freaks wanted—normal beings only. J. F. Corrigan will hold interviews in person on Ghryne from Thirdday to Fifthday of Tenmonth. His last visit to the Caledonia Cluster until 2937, so don't miss your chance! Hurry! A life of wonder and riches can be yours! Broadsides like that, distributed wholesale in half a thousand languages, always bring them running. And the Corrigan Institute really packs in the crowds back on Earth. Why not? It's the best of its kind, the only really decent place where Earthmen can get a gander at the other species of the universe. The office buzzer sounded. Auchinleck said unctuously, "The first applicant is ready to see you, sir." "Send him, her or it in." The door opened and a timid-looking life-form advanced toward me on nervous little legs. He was a globular creature about the size of a big basketball, yellowish-green, with two spindly double-kneed legs and five double-elbowed arms, the latter spaced regularly around his body. There was a lidless eye at the top of his head and five lidded ones, one above each arm. Plus a big, gaping, toothless mouth. His voice was a surprisingly resounding basso. "You are Mr. Corrigan?" "That's right." I reached for a data blank. "Before we begin, I'll need certain information about—" "I am a being of Regulus II," came the grave, booming reply, even before I had picked up the blank. "I need no special care and I am not a fugitive from the law of any world." "Your name?" "Lawrence R. Fitzgerald." I throttled my exclamation of surprise, concealing it behind a quick cough. "Let me have that again, please?" "Certainly. My name is Lawrence R. Fitzgerald. The 'R' stands for Raymond." "Of course, that's not the name you were born with." The being closed his eyes and toddled around in a 360-degree rotation, remaining in place. On his world, that gesture is the equivalent of an apologetic smile. "My Regulan name no longer matters. I am now and shall evermore be Lawrence R. Fitzgerald. I am a Terraphile, you see." The little Regulan was as good as hired. Only the formalities remained. "You understand our terms, Mr. Fitzgerald?" "I'll be placed on exhibition at your Institute on Earth. You'll pay for my services, transportation and expenses. I'll be required to remain on exhibit no more than one-third of each Terran sidereal day." "And the pay will be—ah—$50 Galactic a week, plus expenses and transportation." The spherical creature clapped his hands in joy, three hands clapping on one side, two on the other. "Wonderful! I will see Earth at last! I accept the terms!" I buzzed for Ludlow and gave him the fast signal that meant we were signing this alien up at half the usual pay, and Ludlow took him into the other office to sign him up. I grinned, pleased with myself. We needed a green Regulan in our show; the last one had quit four years ago. But just because we needed him didn't mean we had to be extravagant in hiring him. A Terraphile alien who goes to the extent of rechristening himself with a Terran monicker would work for nothing, or even pay us, just so long as we let him get to Earth. My conscience won't let me really exploit a being, but I don't believe in throwing money away, either. The next applicant was a beefy ursinoid from Aldebaran IX. Our outfit has all the ursinoids it needs or is likely to need in the next few decades, and so I got rid of him in a couple of minutes. He was followed by a roly-poly blue-skinned humanoid from Donovan's Planet, four feet high and five hundred pounds heavy. We already had a couple of his species in the show, but they made good crowd-pleasers, being so plump and cheerful. I passed him along to Auchinleck to sign at anything short of top rate. Next came a bedraggled Sirian spider who was more interested in a handout than a job. If there's any species we have a real over-supply of, it's those silver-colored spiders, but this seedy specimen gave it a try anyway. He got the gate in half a minute, and he didn't even get the handout he was angling for. I don't approve of begging. The flora of applicants was steady. Ghryne is in the heart of the Caledonia Cluster, where the interstellar crossroads meet. We had figured to pick up plenty of new exhibits here and we were right. It was the isolationism of the late 29th century that turned me into the successful proprietor of Corrigan's Institute, after some years as an impoverished carnival man in the Betelgeuse system. Back in 2903, the World Congress declared Terra off-bounds for non-terrestrial beings, as an offshoot of the Terra for Terrans movement. Before then, anyone could visit Earth. After the gate clanged down, a non-terrestrial could only get onto Sol III as a specimen in a scientific collection—in short, as an exhibit in a zoo. That's what the Corrigan Institute of Morphological Science really is, of course. A zoo. But we don't go out and hunt for our specimens; we advertise and they come flocking to us. Every alien wants to see Earth once in his lifetime, and there's only one way he can do it. We don't keep too big an inventory. At last count, we had 690 specimens before this trip, representing 298 different intelligent life-forms. My goal is at least one member of at least 500 different races. When I reach that, I'll sit back and let the competition catch up—if it can. After an hour of steady work that morning, we had signed eleven new specimens. At the same time, we had turned away a dozen ursinoids, fifty of the reptilian natives of Ghryne, seven Sirian spiders, and no less than nineteen chlorine-breathing Procyonites wearing gas masks. It was also my sad duty to nix a Vegan who was negotiating through a Ghrynian agent. A Vegan would be a top-flight attraction, being some 400 feet long and appropriately fearsome to the eye, but I didn't see how we could take one on. They're gentle and likable beings, but their upkeep runs into literally tons of fresh meat a day, and not just any old kind of meat either. So we had to do without the Vegan. "One more specimen before lunch," I told Stebbins, "to make it an even dozen." He looked at me queerly and nodded. A being entered. I took a long close look at the life-form when it came in, and after that I took another one. I wondered what kind of stunt was being pulled. So far as I could tell, the being was quite plainly nothing but an Earthman. He sat down facing me without being asked and crossed his legs. He was tall and extremely thin, with pale blue eyes and dirty-blond hair, and though he was clean and reasonably well dressed, he had a shabby look about him. He said, in level Terran accents, "I'm looking for a job with your outfit, Corrigan." "There's been a mistake. We're interested in non-terrestrials only." "I'm a non-terrestrial. My name is Ildwar Gorb, of the planet Wazzenazz XIII." I don't mind conning the public from time to time, but I draw the line at getting bilked myself. "Look, friend, I'm busy, and I'm not known for my sense of humor. Or my generosity." "I'm not panhandling. I'm looking for a job." "Then try elsewhere. Suppose you stop wasting my time, bud. You're as Earthborn as I am." "I've never been within a dozen parsecs of Earth," he said smoothly. "I happen to be a representative of the only Earthlike race that exists anywhere in the Galaxy but on Earth itself. Wazzenazz XIII is a small and little-known planet in the Crab Nebula. Through an evolutionary fluke, my race is identical with yours. Now, don't you want me in your circus?" "No. And it's not a circus. It's—" "A scientific institute. I stand corrected." There was something glib and appealing about this preposterous phony. I guess I recognized a kindred spirit or I would have tossed him out on his ear without another word. Instead I played along. "If you're from such a distant place, how come you speak English so well?" "I'm not speaking. I'm a telepath—not the kind that reads minds, just the kind that projects. I communicate in symbols that you translate back to colloquial speech." "Very clever, Mr. Gorb." I grinned at him and shook my head. "You spin a good yarn—but for my money, you're really Sam Jones or Phil Smith from Earth, stranded here and out of cash. You want a free trip back to Earth. No deal. The demand for beings from Wazzenazz XIII is pretty low these days. Zero, in fact. Good-by, Mr. Gorb." He pointed a finger squarely at me and said, "You're making a big mistake. I'm just what your outfit needs. A representative of a hitherto utterly unknown race identical to humanity in every respect! Look here, examine my teeth. Absolutely like human teeth! And—" I pulled away from his yawning mouth. "Good-by, Mr. Gorb," I repeated. "All I ask is a contract, Corrigan. It isn't much. I'll be a big attraction. I'll—" " Good-by, Mr. Gorb! " He glowered at me reproachfully for a moment, stood up and sauntered to the door. "I thought you were a man of acumen, Corrigan. Well, think it over. Maybe you'll regret your hastiness. I'll be back to give you another chance." He slammed the door and I let my grim expression relax into a smile. This was the best con switch yet—an Earthman posing as an alien to get a job! But I wasn't buying it, even if I could appreciate his cleverness intellectually. There's no such place as Wazzenazz XIII and there's only one human race in the Galaxy—on Earth. I was going to need some real good reason before I gave a down-and-out grifter a free ticket home. I didn't know it then, but before the day was out, I would have that reason. And, with it, plenty of trouble on my hands. The first harbinger of woe turned up after lunch in the person of a Kallerian. The Kallerian was the sixth applicant that afternoon. I had turned away three more ursinoids, hired a vegetable from Miazan, and said no to a scaly pseudo-armadillo from one of the Delta Worlds. Hardly had the 'dillo scuttled dejectedly out of my office when the Kallerian came striding in, not even waiting for Stebbins to admit him officially. He was big even for his kind—in the neighborhood of nine feet high, and getting on toward a ton. He planted himself firmly on his three stocky feet, extended his massive arms in a Kallerian greeting-gesture, and growled, "I am Vallo Heraal, Freeman of Kaller IV. You will sign me immediately to a contract." "Sit down, Freeman Heraal. I like to make my own decisions, thanks." "You will grant me a contract!" "Will you please sit down?" He said sulkily, "I will remain standing." "As you prefer." My desk has a few concealed features which are sometimes useful in dealing with belligerent or disappointed life-forms. My fingers roamed to the meshgun trigger, just in case of trouble. The Kallerian stood motionless before me. They're hairy creatures, and this one had a coarse, thick mat of blue fur completely covering his body. Two fierce eyes glimmered out through the otherwise dense blanket of fur. He was wearing the kilt, girdle and ceremonial blaster of his warlike race. I said, "You'll have to understand, Freeman Heraal, that it's not our policy to maintain more than a few members of each species at our Institute. And we're not currently in need of any Kallerian males, because—" "You will hire me or trouble I will make!" I opened our inventory chart. I showed him that we were already carrying four Kallerians, and that was more than plenty. The beady little eyes flashed like beacons in the fur. "Yes, you have four representatives—of the Clan Verdrokh! None of the Clan Gursdrinn! For three years, I have waited for a chance to avenge this insult to the noble Clan Gursdrinn!" At the key-word avenge , I readied myself to ensnarl the Kallerian in a spume of tanglemesh the instant he went for his blaster, but he didn't move. He bellowed, "I have vowed a vow, Earthman. Take me to Earth, enroll a Gursdrinn, or the consequences will be terrible!" I'm a man of principles, like all straightforward double-dealers, and one of the most important of those principles is that I never let myself be bullied by anyone. "I deeply regret having unintentionally insulted your clan, Freeman Heraal. Will you accept my apologies?" He glared at me in silence. I went on, "Please be assured that I'll undo the insult at the earliest possible opportunity. It's not feasible for us to hire another Kallerian now, but I'll give preference to the Clan Gursdrinn as soon as a vacancy—" "No. You will hire me now." "It can't be done, Freeman Heraal. We have a budget, and we stick to it." "You will rue! I will take drastic measures!" "Threats will get you nowhere, Freeman Heraal. I give you my word I'll get in touch with you as soon as our organization has room for another Kallerian. And now, please, there are many applicants waiting—" You'd think it would be sort of humiliating to become a specimen in a zoo, but most of these races take it as an honor. And there's always the chance that, by picking a given member of a race, we're insulting all the others. I nudged the trouble-button on the side of my desk and Auchinleck and Ludlow appeared simultaneously from the two doors at right and left. They surrounded the towering Kallerian and sweet-talkingly led him away. He wasn't minded to quarrel physically, or he could have knocked them both into the next city with a backhand swipe of his shaggy paw, but he kept up a growling flow of invective and threats until he was out in the hall. I mopped sweat from my forehead and began to buzz Stebbins for the next applicant. But before my finger touched the button, the door popped open and a small being came scooting in, followed by an angry Stebbins. "Come here, you!" "Stebbins?" I said gently. "I'm sorry, Mr. Corrigan. I lost sight of this one for a moment, and he came running in—" "Please, please," squeaked the little alien pitifully. "I must see you, honored sir!" "It isn't his turn in line," Stebbins protested. "There are at least fifty ahead of him." "All right," I said tiredly. "As long as he's in here already, I might as well see him. Be more careful next time, Stebbins." Stebbins nodded dolefully and backed out. The alien was a pathetic sight: a Stortulian, a squirrely-looking creature about three feet high. His fur, which should have been a lustrous black, was a dull gray, and his eyes were wet and sad. His tail drooped. His voice was little more than a faint whimper, even at full volume. "Begging your most honored pardon most humbly, important sir. I am a being of Stortul XII, having sold my last few possessions to travel to Ghryne for the miserable purpose of obtaining an interview with yourself." I said, "I'd better tell you right at the outset that we're already carrying our full complement of Stortulians. We have both a male and a female now and—" "This is known to me. The female—is her name perchance Tiress?" I glanced down at the inventory chart until I found the Stortulian entry. "Yes, that's her name." The little being immediately emitted a soul-shaking gasp. "It is she! It is she!" "I'm afraid we don't have room for any more—" "You are not in full understanding of my plight. The female Tiress, she is—was—my own Fire-sent spouse, my comfort and my warmth, my life and my love." "Funny," I said. "When we signed her three years ago, she said she was single. It's right here on the chart." "She lied! She left my burrow because she longed to see the splendors of Earth. And I am alone, bound by our sacred customs never to remarry, languishing in sadness and pining for her return. You must take me to Earth!" "But—" "I must see her—her and this disgrace-bringing lover of hers. I must reason with her. Earthman, can't you see I must appeal to her inner flame? I must bring her back! " My face was expressionless. "You don't really intend to join our organization at all—you just want free passage to Earth?" "Yes, yes!" wailed the Stortulian. "Find some other member of my race, if you must! Let me have my wife again, Earthman! Is your heart a dead lump of stone?" It isn't, but another of my principles is to refuse to be swayed by sentiment. I felt sorry for this being's domestic troubles, but I wasn't going to break up a good act just to make an alien squirrel happy—not to mention footing the transportation. I said, "I don't see how we can manage it. The laws are very strict on the subject of bringing alien life to Earth. It has to be for scientific purposes only. And if I know in advance that your purpose in coming isn't scientific, I can't in all conscience lie for you, can I?" "Well—" "Of course not." I took advantage of his pathetic upset to steam right along. "Now if you had come in here and simply asked me to sign you up, I might conceivably have done it. But no—you had to go unburden your heart to me." "I thought the truth would move you." "It did. But in effect you're now asking me to conspire in a fraudulent criminal act. Friend, I can't do it. My reputation means too much to me," I said piously. "Then you will refuse me?" "My heart melts to nothingness for you. But I can't take you to Earth." "Perhaps you will send my wife to me here?" There's a clause in every contract that allows me to jettison an unwanted specimen. All I have to do is declare it no longer of scientific interest, and the World Government will deport the undesirable alien back to its home world. But I wouldn't pull a low trick like that on our female Stortulian. I said, "I'll ask her about coming home. But I won't ship her back against her will. And maybe she's happier where she is." The Stortulian seemed to shrivel. His eyelids closed half-way to mask his tears. He turned and shambled slowly to the door, walking like a living dishrag. In a bleak voice, he said, "There is no hope then. All is lost. I will never see my soulmate again. Good day, Earthman." He spoke in a drab monotone that almost, but not quite, had me weeping. I watched him shuffle out. I do have some conscience, and I had the uneasy feeling I had just been talking to a being who was about to commit suicide on my account. About fifty more applicants were processed without a hitch. Then life started to get complicated again. Nine of the fifty were okay. The rest were unacceptable for one reason or another, and they took the bad news quietly enough. The haul for the day so far was close to two dozen new life-forms under contract. I had just about begun to forget about the incidents of the Kallerian's outraged pride and the Stortulian's flighty wife when the door opened and the Earthman who called himself Ildwar Gorb of Wazzenazz XIII stepped in. "How did you get in here?" I demanded. "Your man happened to be looking the wrong way," he said cheerily. "Change your mind about me yet?" "Get out before I have you thrown out." Gorb shrugged. "I figured you hadn't changed your mind, so I've changed my pitch a bit. If you won't believe I'm from Wazzenazz XIII, suppose I tell you that I am Earthborn, and that I'm looking for a job on your staff." "I don't care what your story is! Get out or—" "—you'll have me thrown out. Okay, okay. Just give me half a second. Corrigan, you're no fool, and neither am I—but that fellow of yours outside is . He doesn't know how to handle alien beings. How many times today has a life-form come in here unexpectedly?" I scowled at him. "Too damn many." "You see? He's incompetent. Suppose you fire him, take me on instead. I've been living in the outworlds half my life; I know all there is to know about alien life-forms. You can use me, Corrigan." I took a deep breath and glanced all around the paneled ceiling of the office before I spoke. "Listen, Gorb, or whatever your name is, I've had a hard day. There's been a Kallerian in here who just about threatened murder, and there's been a Stortulian in here who's about to commit suicide because of me. I have a conscience and it's troubling me. But get this: I just want to finish off my recruiting, pack up and go home to Earth. I don't want you hanging around here bothering me. I'm not looking to hire new staff members, and if you switch back to claiming you're an unknown life-form from Wazzenazz XIII, the answer is that I'm not looking for any of those either. Now will you scram or—" The office door crashed open at that point and Heraal, the Kallerian, came thundering in. He was dressed from head to toe in glittering metalfoil, and instead of his ceremonial blaster, he was wielding a sword the length of a human being. Stebbins and Auchinleck came dragging helplessly along in his wake, hanging desperately to his belt. "Sorry, Chief," Stebbins gasped. "I tried to keep him out, but—" Heraal, who had planted himself in front of my desk, drowned him out with a roar. "Earthman, you have mortally insulted the Clan Gursdrinn!" Sitting with my hands poised near the meshgun trigger, I was ready to let him have it at the first sight of actual violence. Heraal boomed, "You are responsible for what is to happen now. I have notified the authorities and you prosecuted will be for causing the death of a life-form! Suffer, Earthborn ape! Suffer!" "Watch it, Chief," Stebbins yelled. "He's going to—" An instant before my numb fingers could tighten on the meshgun trigger, Heraal swung that huge sword through the air and plunged it savagely through his body. He toppled forward onto the carpet with the sword projecting a couple of feet out of his back. A few driblets of bluish-purple blood spread from beneath him. Before I could react to the big life-form's hara-kiri, the office door flew open again and three sleek reptilian beings entered, garbed in the green sashes of the local police force. Their golden eyes goggled down at the figure on the floor, then came to rest on me. "You are J. F. Corrigan?" the leader asked. "Y-yes." "We have received word of a complaint against you. Said complaint being—" "—that your unethical actions have directly contributed to the untimely death of an intelligent life-form," filled in the second of the Ghrynian policemen. "The evidence lies before us," intoned the leader, "in the cadaver of the unfortunate Kallerian who filed the complaint with us several minutes ago." "And therefore," said the third lizard, "it is our duty to arrest you for this crime and declare you subject to a fine of no less than $100,000 Galactic or two years in prison." "Hold on!" I stormed. "You mean that any being from anywhere in the Universe can come in here and gut himself on my carpet, and I'm responsible?" "This is the law. Do you deny that your stubborn refusal to yield to this late life-form's request lies at the root of his sad demise?" "Well, no, but—" "Failure to deny is admission of guilt. You are guilty, Earthman." Closing my eyes wearily, I tried to wish the whole babbling lot of them away. If I had to, I could pony up the hundred-grand fine, but it was going to put an awful dent in this year's take. And I shuddered when I remembered that any minute that scrawny little Stortulian was likely to come bursting in here to kill himself too. Was it a fine of $100,000 per suicide? At that rate, I could be out of business by nightfall. I was spared further such morbid thoughts by yet another unannounced arrival. The small figure of the Stortulian trudged through the open doorway and stationed itself limply near the threshold. The three Ghrynian policemen and my three assistants forgot the dead Kallerian for a moment and turned to eye the newcomer. I had visions of unending troubles with the law here on Ghryne. I resolved never to come here on a recruiting trip again—or, if I did come, to figure out some more effective way of screening myself against crackpots. In heart-rending tones, the Stortulian declared, "Life is no longer worth living. My last hope is gone. There is only one thing left for me to do." I was quivering at the thought of another hundred thousand smackers going down the drain. "Stop him, somebody! He's going to kill himself! He's—" Then somebody sprinted toward me, hit me amidships, and knocked me flying out from behind my desk before I had a chance to fire the meshgun. My head walloped the floor, and for five or six seconds, I guess I wasn't fully aware of what was going on. Gradually the scene took shape around me. There was a monstrous hole in the wall behind my desk; a smoking blaster lay on the floor, and I saw the three Ghrynian policemen sitting on the raving Stortulian. The man who called himself Ildwar Gorb was getting to his feet and dusting himself off. He helped me up. "Sorry to have had to tackle you, Corrigan. But that Stortulian wasn't here to commit suicide, you see. He was out to get you." I weaved dizzily toward my desk and dropped into my chair. A flying fragment of wall had deflated my pneumatic cushion. The smell of ashed plaster was everywhere. The police were effectively cocooning the struggling little alien in an unbreakable tanglemesh. "Evidently you don't know as much as you think you do about Stortulian psychology, Corrigan," Gorb said lightly. "Suicide is completely abhorrent to them. When they're troubled, they kill the person who caused their trouble. In this case, you." I began to chuckle—more of a tension-relieving snicker than a full-bodied laugh. "Funny," I said. "What is?" asked the self-styled Wazzenazzian. "These aliens. Big blustery Heraal came in with murder in his eye and killed himself , and the pint-sized Stortulian who looked so meek and pathetic damn near blew my head off." I shuddered. "Thanks for the tackle job." "Don't mention it," Gorb said. I glared at the Ghrynian police. "Well? What are you waiting for? Take that murderous little beast out of here! Or isn't murder against the local laws?" "The Stortulian will be duly punished," replied the leader of the Ghrynian cops calmly. "But there is the matter of the dead Kallerian and the fine of—" "—one hundred thousand dollars. I know." I groaned and turned to Stebbins. "Get the Terran Consulate on the phone, Stebbins. Have them send down a legal adviser. Find out if there's any way we can get out of this mess with our skins intact." "Right, Chief." Stebbins moved toward the visiphone. Gorb stepped forward and put a hand on his chest. "Hold it," the Wazzenazzian said crisply. "The Consulate can't help you. I can." "You?" I said. "I can get you out of this cheap." " How cheap?" Gorb grinned rakishly. "Five thousand in cash plus a contract as a specimen with your outfit. In advance, of course. That's a heck of a lot better than forking over a hundred grand, isn't it?" I eyed Gorb uncertainly. The Terran Consulate people probably wouldn't be much help; they tried to keep out of local squabbles unless they were really serious, and I knew from past experiences that no officials ever worried much about the state of my pocketbook. On the other hand, giving this slyster a contract might be a risky proposition. "Tell you what," I said finally. "You've got yourself a deal—but on a contingency basis. Get me out of this and you'll have five grand and the contract. Otherwise, nothing." Gorb shrugged. "What have I to lose?" | B. He was able to offer him less, knowing he would still accept and be grateful. |
How does the method measure the impact of the event on market prices? | ### Introduction
The financial performance of a corporation is correlated with its social responsibility such as whether their products are environmentally friendly, manufacturing safety procedures protect against accidents, or they use child labors in its third world country factories. Consumers care about these factors when making purchasing decisions in the supermarkets and investors integrate environmental, social and governance factors, known as ESG, in their investment decision-making. It has been shown that corporations financial results have a positive correlation with their sustainability business model and the ESG investment methodology can help reduce portfolio risk and generate competitive returns. However, one barrier for ESG evaluation is the lack of relatively complete and centralized information source. Currently, ESG analysts leverage financial reports to collect the the necessary data for proper evaluation such as greenhouse gas emissions or discrimination lawsuits, but this data is inconsistent and latent. In this study, we consider social media a crowdsourcing data feed to be a new data source for this task. Social media applications such as Twitter offer users a platform to share and disseminate almost any content about various events such as sports, music, and controversial events as well. The content produced through these platforms not only facilitates the spread of information but can also provides meaningful signals about the influence of the events. A large number of responses to an issue on Twitter could inform the public about the significance of an event, widen the scope of the event, and bring more public attention inside and outside the social media circle. We define a controversial event for a business entity as a credible and newsworthy incident that has the potential to impact an entity in its financial performance and operation, for example, an incident caused by an employee or a representative of the entity that has the potential to hurt the trust of the public to its brand. Such an incident can demonstrate a potential gap in its risk management framework and policy execution, and eventually hurt the interest and trust of its stakeholders'. Controversial events trigger a large cascade of discussion on social media platforms. The broad connectivity between people propagates their opinions into trending topics that could effect the company financially and operationally. In certain cases, the responsible entity can be forced to take actions, e.g., to recall its product, which can impose a large financial burden on the entity. For instance, in the Takata air bag scandal, the event was discussed widely on Twitter after the New York Times published a comprehensive article on its defective air bag products in 2014. Takata was forced to recall nearly 50 million air bag and filed bankruptcy in June 2017. To this end, we propose a controversial event detection system utilizing Twitter data. We focus on controversial events which are credible and newsworthy. Twitter data were collected on a given company and various attributes of each tweet were extracted. We verify the credibility of the event by validating the URLs appearing in tweets come from credible news sources. We utilize tweets attributes to detect events specific to the given company and the sentiment of the event to measure the controversy. Relationship between a burst of an entity controversial event and the entity market performance data was qualitatively assessed in our case study, where we found its potential impact on the equity value. ### Related Work
There have been a few studies on assessing sustainability of entities. The UN Commission on Sustainable Development (CSD) published a list of about 140 indicators on various dimensions of sustainability BIBREF0 . In BIBREF1 , Singh et al. reviewed various methodologies, indicators, and indices on sustainability assessment, which includes environmental and social domains. All the data, on which the assessments were conducted, mentioned in their works are processed datasets, and some of them are collected from company annual reports and publications, newspaper clips, and management interviews. They stated that the large number of indicators or indices raises the need of data collection. Our work uses the social media data as a new alternative data source to complement the traditional data collection. Event detection on social media has been a popular research topic for years. Reuters Tracer BIBREF2 is reported as an application built for the journalists to detect news leads in Twitter before the news becomes known to the public. Petrovic et al. BIBREF3 presented a locality-sensitive hashing based first story detection algorithm with a new variance reduction strategy to improve the performance. In BIBREF4 , the signal of a tweet word is built with wavelet analysis and a event is detected by clustering words with similar signal patterns of burst. BIBREF5 describes a detection and analysis system named TEDAS which concentrates on Crime and Disaster related Events (CDE). TEDAS classifies if a tweet is a CDE tweet, predicts its geo-location if missing, and ranks and returns important tweets when user queries in the system. TEDAS treats a tweet as an event if the tweet qualifies, while our definition of an event is different, where an event is a group of tweets discussing a same theme. ### Controversy Detection in Social Media
In this section, we describe the main components of our controversy detection system. ### Data collection
The system uses Twitter's filtered streaming API to collect relevant tweets data. The data collection pipeline accepts a comma-separated list of phrases as filtering parameters, that the API uses to determine which tweets will be retained from the stream. Once the system receives data from the API, it then separates postings by companies and runs the downstream process on the separated data streams individually. ### Feature engineering
The data collection pipeline collects tweet postings for a given entity. For each incoming posting, the system also stores the following attributes: posting_id, creation_time, text, language, source, URLs, and hashtags. The system parses the text attribute of each tweet. Part-of-speech (POS) tagging and named entity recognition (NER) algorithm are applied to each tweet and terms that are tagged as proper nouns, verbs, and entities are stored. If two proper nouns are next to each other, the system merges them as one proper noun phrase. Entities such as person names, organizations, locations from tweets are the key elements in describing an event and distinguishing it from other events, and are often used by news professionals to describe the complete story of an event. The verbs from POS tagging mainly represent what and why information, while NER helps to identify where, when, and who information. They capture the major aspects of an event, named who, what, where, when, and why (5W). Besides that, the sentiment of each tweet is assessed too. The system crawls the URLs in a posting and verifies whether the link comes from one or more credible news sources. More specifically, the system may consider the following to be examples of credible news sources: 1) a news outlet that has, and consistently applies, journalistic standards in its reporting or 2) an authoritative government agency not acting in a political capacity. Determining whether a source is a credible news source depends on the context of the event. Based on all the extracted features, the system can build a tweet vector, which includes the following features: tweet id, creation time, source, hashtags, entity/proper nouns, verbs, sentiment, and news links. ### Event detection
When a new tweet is received in the data pipeline, it either forms a new cluster or it will be added to an existing cluster. A new tweet will be added to an existing cluster if it is sufficiently similar to one of the existing clusters based on its distance to the cluster average vector. If more than one cluster is applicable, the cluster that has the highest similarity to the new tweet is picked. If a new tweet is not added to any existing clusters, it would form a new cluster. A candidate event is a cluster that has at least five tweets. Algorithm SECREF6 summarizes our event detection method and the following controversy identification method. ### Controversy identification
An event can be controversial if the public expresses dissenting opinions, usually associated with negative sentiments to it. The system filters out irrelevant events and noise from the established controversial events using the following metrics: The burstiness of an event: To detect the burstiness of an event, the system detects the volume of tweets per time period, e.g., per day, for the entity in question. An event is flagged when the velocity of the volume increase exceeds a threshold. Newsworthiness detection: The system counts the total number of unique verified news links in each cluster and log that count as a newsworthiness metric. Sentiment: For each cluster, its overall sentiment score is quantified by the mean of the sentiment scores among all tweets. Candidate events are ranked based on these metrics, and high ranked events are considered controversial events. Outline of the controversy detection algorithm [1] INLINEFORM0 is a stream of tweets about company INLINEFORM1 Controversy INLINEFORM0 INLINEFORM0 (event detection) INLINEFORM1 TweetFeature INLINEFORM2 INLINEFORM0 INLINEFORM1 INLINEFORM2 current event clusters INLINEFORM3 ClusterFeature INLINEFORM4 INLINEFORM5 Distance INLINEFORM6 compute distance INLINEFORM7 INLINEFORM0 find the closet cluster INLINEFORM1 INLINEFORM2 INLINEFORM3 is merge threshold merge INLINEFORM4 in INLINEFORM5 INLINEFORM6 INLINEFORM7 is singleton cluster INLINEFORM0 INLINEFORM1 is min cluster size as event INLINEFORM0 (controversy identification) INLINEFORM1 Bustiness INLINEFORM2 INLINEFORM3 Newsworthiness INLINEFORM4 INLINEFORM5 INLINEFORM6 SentimentClassify INLINEFORM7 INLINEFORM0 AVG INLINEFORM1 compute event level sentiment INLINEFORM2 combined controversy score INLINEFORM0 INLINEFORM1 is controversial events set ### Case Study - Starbucks Controversy
In this section, we provide a case study of our model on a Starbucks controversial event captured in the system. We validated the event with the Wikipedia page of Starbucks and the major new agencies reports. After the event was detected, its impact was further assessed by linking to the market equity data. On April 12th, 2018, an incident occurred in a Starbucks in Philadelphia, PA. Two African-American men were arrested by the police officials inside that Starbucks. It was reported that the two were denied to access the restroom by the store staff because they did not make any purchase. While waiting at the table, they were told by the staff to leave as they were not making any purchase. They did not comply and thus the store manager called the police and reported that they are trespassing. The two were arrested by the officials but released afterwards without any pressed charges. The scene of the arresting was posted on Twitter and quickly garnered public attention. The video had been viewed more than three millions times in a couple of days and the major local and national news agencies like CNN, NPR, and NYTIMES followed the development of the story. The public outrage originating from the social media universe swiftly triggered a series of chain reaction in the physical world. Protesters gathered together inside and outside the Starbucks store to demand the manager be fired. Several days later, the CEO of the Starbucks issued a public apology for the incident on an ABC's program and stated that he would like to meet the men to show them compassion. To remedy the bad outcome of the event, Starbucks closed its 8,000 stores in the U.S. on May 29th for racial-bias training for its 175K employees. A financial settlement was also established between the two men and Starbucks corporation. This event garnered a serious public relations crisis for Starbucks. Figure FIGREF10 shows the event clusters for six days sampled between April 10th and April 20th. Given the difficulty in showing all of the tweets that were clustered, we use the volume of key POS tagged words (5Ws) detected in the cluster of tweets to approximate the event content. The keywords on the top of each bar reveal aspects of the event cluster. This controversial Starbucks event was captured in our system on April 13th, one day after the event occurred. Prior to the event, the discussion themes about Starbucks (clusters) on Twitter were more random and included topics such as Starbucks gift card, barista, coffee as shown on 04/11/2018. The size of the clusters and the total volume of the tweets per day is comparably small. The first event cluster the system detected associates with the keyword `black', where twitter users mentioned `[...] arrested for being Black'. After the event, the volume of the tweets per day surged multiple times more than before and kept climbing for about a week as the event was developing. The system clearly uncovers the events by being able to pinpoint the clustering keywords `black men', `philly', `CEO', `close', etc. The sentiment scores of the discussion in the clusters for each day are shown on the top part of Figure FIGREF10 . The sentiment score is in a range of -2 to +2, -2 standing for very negative, 0 for neutral, and +2 for very positive. As the figure shows, twitter users' attitude turned from neutral to negative post the Starbucks event occurrence. The quick turn of sentiment polarity serves as an measurement of the event being controversy. Through the validation of the domain of the URLs quoted in the clustered tweets, the authentication of the event is verified. All of the elements of this event indicate that a controversy, specifically, a social related controversy, has occurred. We also did a qualitative study on the Starbucks (SBUX) stock movement during this event. Figure FIGREF12 is the daily percentage change of SBUX and NASDAQ index between April 11th and April 20th. SBUX did not follow the upward trend of the whole market before April 17th, and then its change on April 20th, INLINEFORM0 , is quite significant from historical norms. We collected the historical 52 week stock prices prior to this event and calculated the daily stock price change. The distribution of the daily price change of the previous 52 weeks is Figure FIGREF13 with a mean INLINEFORM1 and standard deviation INLINEFORM2 . The INLINEFORM3 down almost equals to two standard deviations below the mean. Our observation is that plausibly, there was a negative aftereffect from the event of the notable decline in Starbucks stock price due to the major public relations crisis. ### Conclusions
We present the use of Twitter as a new data source to detect controversial events for business entities. Each tweet is represented by a vector comprising name entities and verbs mentioned in the raw tweet text. Events can be identified by grouping similar tweets in the vector space, the size and burstiness of the event, and the sentiment polarities. This system is a data-driven controversy monitoring tool that sifts through large volumes of Twitter data. It provides investors with data on key insights on social consciousness, which allows investors to make more informed investment decisions. The direction of our future work is to: 1) develop a quantitative measure on the event impact on the equity market; 2) identify the relevance of the events to entities' operations; 3) extract post-event mitigation actions from the entities. Figure 1: Event clusters and the sentiment polarity score along the timeline. Figure 3: Histogram of Starbucks stock price daily changes Figure 2: Starbucks stock price and NASDAQ index between April 11th 2018 and April 20th 2018. | We collected the historical 52 week stock prices prior to this event and calculated the daily stock price change. The distribution of the daily price change of the previous 52 weeks is Figure FIGREF13 with a mean INLINEFORM1 and standard deviation INLINEFORM2 . |
Regarding Mr. Chapman, what was the finding in the CT Head on 04/21/2017?
Choose the correct answer from the following options:
A. Ischemic stroke
B. Brain tumor
C. Malresorptive hydrocephalus
D. Cerebral abscess
E. Normal study
| ### Patient Report 0
**Dear colleague, **
We are reporting on our shared patient, Mr. John Chapman, born on
11/16/1994, who received emergency treatment at our clinic on
04/03/2017.
**Diagnoses**:
- Severe open traumatic brain injury with fractures of the cranial
vault, mastoid, and skull base
- Dissection of the distal internal carotid artery on both sides
- Subarachnoid hemorrhage involving both hemispheres and extending
into the basal cisterns
- Aspiration pneumonia
**Other Diagnoses: **
- Status post rib fracture 2005
- Status post appendectomy 2006
- Status post distal radius fracture 2008
- Status post elbow fracture 20010
**Procedure**: External ventricular drain (EVD) placement.
**Medical History:** Admission through the emergency department as a
polytrauma alert. The patient was involved in a motocross accident,
where he jumped, fell, and landed face-first. He was intubated at the
scene, and either during or before intubation, aspiration occurred. No
issues with airway, breathing, or circulation (A, B, or C problems) were
noted. A CT scan performed in the emergency department revealed an open
traumatic brain injury with fractures of the cranial vault, mastoid, and
skull base, as well as dissection of both carotid arteries. Upon
admission, we encountered an intubated and sedated patient with a
Richmond Agitation-Sedation Scale (RASS) score of -4. He was
hemodynamically stable at all times.
**Current Recommendations:**
- Regular checks of vigilance, laboratory values and microbiological
findings.
- Careful balancing
### Patient Report 1
**Dear colleague, **
We report on Mr. John Chapman, born on 11/16/1994, who was admitted to
our Intensive Care Unit from 04/03/2017 to 05/01/2017.
**Diagnoses:**
- Open severe traumatic brain injury with fractures of the skull
vault, mastoid, and skull base
- Dissection of the distal ACI on both sides
- Subarachnoid hemorrhage involving both hemispheres and extending
into basal cisterns
- Infarct areas in the border zone between MCA-ACA on the right
frontal and left parietal sides
- Malresorptive hydrocephalus
<!-- -->
- Rhabdomyolysis
- Aspiration pneumonia
**Other Diagnoses: **
- Status post rib fracture in 2005
- Status post appendectomy in 2006
- Status post distal radius fracture in 2008
- Status post elbow fracture in 20010
**Surgical Procedures:**
- 04/03/2017: Placement of external ventricular drain
- 04/08/2017: Placement of an intracranial pressure monitoring
catheter
- 04/13/2017: Surgical tracheostomy
- 05/01/2017: Left ventriculoperitoneal shunt placement
**Medical History:** The patient was admitted through the emergency
department as a polytrauma alert. The patient had fallen while riding a
motocross bike, landing face-first after jumping. He was intubated at
the scene. Aspiration occurred either during or before intubation. No
problems with breathing or circulation were noted. The CT performed in
the emergency department showed an open traumatic brain injury with
fractures of the skull vault, mastoid, and skull base, as well as
dissection of the carotid arteries on both sides and bilateral
subarachnoid hemorrhage.
Upon admission, the patient was sedated and intubated, with a Richmond
Agitation-Sedation Scale (RASS) score of -4, and was hemodynamically
stable under controlled ventilation.
**Therapy and Progression:**
[Neurology]{.underline}: Following the patient\'s admission, an external
ventricular drain was placed. Reduction of sedation had to be
discontinued due to increased intracranial pressure. A right pupil size
greater than the left showed no intracranial correlate. With
persistently elevated intracranial pressure, intensive intracranial
pressure therapy was initiated using deeper sedation, administration of
hyperosmolar sodium, and cerebrospinal fluid drainage, which normalized
intracranial pressure. Intermittently, there were recurrent intracranial
pressure peaks, which could be treated conservatively. Transcranial
Doppler examinations showed normal flow velocities. Microbiological
samples from cerebrospinal fluid were obtained when the patient had
elevated temperatures, but no bacterial growth was observed. Due to the
inability to adequately monitor intracranial pressure via the external
ventricular drain, an intracranial pressure monitoring catheter was
placed to facilitate adequate intracranial pressure monitoring. In the
perfusion computed tomography, progressive edema with increasingly
obstructed external ventricular spaces and previously known infarcts in
the border zone area were observed. To ensure appropriate intracranial
pressure monitoring, a Tuohy drain was inserted due to cerebrospinal
fluid buildup on 04/21/2017. After the initiation of antibiotic therapy
for suspected ventriculitis, the intracranial pressure monitoring
catheter was removed on 04/20/2017. Subsequently, a liquorrhea
developed, leading to the placement of a Tuohy drain. After successful
antibiotic treatment of ventriculitis, a ventriculoperitoneal shunt was
placed on 05/01/2017 without complications, and the Tuohy drain was
removed. Radiological control confirmed the correct positioning. The
patient gradually became more alert. Both pupils were isochoric and
reacted to light. All extremities showed movement, although the patient
only intermittently responded to commands. On 05/01/2017, a VP shunt was
placed on the left side without complications. Currently, the patient is
sedated with continuous clonidine at 60µg/h.
**Hemodynamics**: To maintain cerebral perfusion pressure in the
presence of increased intracranial pressure, circulatory support with
vasopressors was necessary. Echocardiography revealed preserved cardiac
function without wall motion abnormalities or right heart strain,
despite the increasing need for noradrenaline support. As the patient
had bilateral carotid dissection, a therapy with Aspirin 100mg was
initiated. On 04/16/2017, clinical examination revealed right\>left leg
circumference difference and redness of the right leg. Utrasound
revealed a long-segment deep vein thrombosis in the right leg, extending
from the pelvis (proximal end of the thrombus not clearly delineated) to
the lower leg. Therefore, Heparin was increased to a therapeutic dose.
Heparin therapy was paused on postoperative day 1, and prophylactic
anticoagulation started, followed by therapeutic anticoagulation on
postoperative day 2. The patient was switched to subcutaneous Lovenox.
**Pulmonary**: Due to the history of aspiration in the prehospital
setting, a bronchoscopy was performed, revealing a moderately obstructed
bronchial system with several clots. As prolonged sedation was
necessary, a surgical tracheostomy was performed without complications
on 04/13/2017. Subsequently, we initiated weaning from mechanical
ventilation. The current weaning strategy includes 12 hours of
synchronized intermittent mandatory ventilation (SIMV) during the night,
with nighttime pressure support ventilation (DuoPAP: Ti high 1.3s,
respiratory rate 11/min, Phigh 11 mbar, PEEP 5 mbar, Psupport 5 mbar,
trigger 4l, ramp 50 ms, expiratory trigger sensitivity 25%).
**Abdomen**: FAST examinations did not reveal any signs of
intra-abdominal trauma. Enteral feeding was initiated via a gastric
tube, along with supportive parenteral nutrition. With forced bowel
movement measures, the patient had regular bowel movements. On
04/17/2017, a complication-free PEG (percutaneous endoscopic
gastrostomy) placement was performed due to the potential long-term need
for enteral nutrition. The PEG tube is currently being fed with tube
feed nutrition, with no bowel movement for the past four days.
Additionally, supportive parenteral nutrition is being provided.
**Kidney**: Initially, the patient had polyuria without confirming
diabetes insipidus, and subsequently, adequate diuresis developed.
Retention parameters were within the normal range. As crush parameters
increased, a therapy involving forced diuresis was initiated, resulting
in a significant reduction of crush parameters.
**Infection Course:** Upon admission, with elevated infection parameters
and intermittently febrile temperatures, empirical antibiotic therapy
was initiated for suspected pneumonia using Piperacillin/Tazobactam.
Staphylococcus capitis was identified in blood cultures, and
Staphylococcus aureus was found in bronchial lavage. Both microbes were
sensitive to the current antibiotic therapy, so treatment with
Piperacillin/Tazobactam continued. Additionally, Enterobacter cloacae
was identified in tracheobronchial secretions during the course, also
sensitive to the ongoing antibiotic therapy. On 05/17, the patient
experienced another fever episode with elevated infection parameters and
right lower lobe infiltrates in the chest X-ray. After obtaining
microbiological samples, antibiotic therapy was switched to Meropenem
for suspected pneumonia. Microbiological findings from cerebrospinal
fluid indicated gram-negative rods. Therefore, antibiotic therapy was
adjusted to Ciprofloxacin in accordance with susceptibility testing due
to suspected ventriculitis, and the Meropenem dose was increased. This
led to a reduction in infection parameters. Finally, microbiological
examination of cerebrospinal fluid, blood cultures, and urine revealed
no pathological findings. Infection parameters decreased. We recommend
continuing antibiotic therapy until 05/02/2017.
**Anti-Infective Course: **
- Piperacillin/Tazobactam 04/03/2017-04/16/2017: Staph. Capitis in
Blood Culture Staph. Aureus in Bronchial Lavage
- Meropenem 04/16/2017-present (increased dose since 04/18) CSF:
gram-negative rods in Blood Culture: Pseudomonas aeruginosa
Acinetobacter radioresistens
- Ciprofloxacin 04/18/2017-present CSF: gram-negative rods in Blood
Culture: Pseudomonas aeruginosa, Acinetobacter radioresistens
**Weaning Settings:** Weaning Stage 6: 12-hour synchronized intermittent
mandatory ventilation (SIMV) with DuoPAP during the night (Thigh 1.3s,
respiratory rate 11/min, Phigh 11 mbar, PEEP 5 mbar, Psupport 5 mbar,
trigger 4l, ramp 50 ms, expiratory trigger sensitivity 25%).
**Status at transfer:** Currently, Mr. Chapman is monosedated with
Clonidine. He spontaneously opens both eyes and spontaneously moves all
four extremities. Pupils are bilaterally moderately dilated, round and
sensitive to light. There is bulbar divergence. Circulation is stable
without catecholamine therapy. He is in the process of weaning,
currently spontaneous breathing with intermittent CPAP. Renal function
is sufficient, enteral nutrition via PEG with supportive parenteral
nutrition is successful.
**Current Medication:**
**Medication** **Dosage** **Frequency**
------------------------------------ ---------------- ---------------
Bisoprolol (Zebeta) 2.5 mg 1-0-0
Ciprofloxacin (Cipro) 400 mg 1-1-1
Meropenem (Merrem) 4 g Every 4 hours
Morphine Hydrochloride (MS Contin) 10 mg 1-1-1-1-1-1
Polyethylene Glycol 3350 (MiraLAX) 13.1 g 1-1-1
Acetaminophen (Tylenol) 1000 mg 1-1-1-1
Aspirin 100 mg 1-0-0
Enoxaparin (Lovenox) 30 mg (0.3 mL) 0-0-1
Enoxaparin (Lovenox) 70 mg (0.7 mL) 1-0-1
**Lab results:**
**Parameter** **Results** **Reference Range**
-------------------- ------------- ---------------------
Creatinine (Jaffé) 0.42 mg/dL 0.70-1.20 mg/dL
Urea 31 mg/dL 17-48 mg/dL
Total Bilirubin 0.35 mg/dL \< 1.20 mg/dL
Hemoglobin 7.6 g/dL 13.5-17.0 g/dL
Hematocrit 28% 39.5-50.5%
Red Blood Cells 3.5 M/uL 4.3-5.8 M/uL
White Blood Cells 10.35 K/uL 3.90-10.50 K/uL
Platelets 379 K/uL 150-370 K/uL
MCV 77.2 fL 80.0-99.0 fL
MCH 24.1 pg 27.0-33.5 pg
MCHC 32.5 g/dL 31.5-36.0 g/dL
MPV 11.3 fL 7.0-12.0 fL
RDW-CV 17.7% 11.5-15.0%
Quick 54% 78-123%
INR 1.36 0.90-1.25
aPTT 32.8 sec 25.0-38.0 sec
**Addition: Radiological Findings**
[Clinical Information and Justification:]{.underline} Suspected deep
vein thrombosis (DVT) on the right leg.
[Special Notes:]{.underline} Examination at the bedside in the intensive
care unit, no digital image archiving available.
[Findings]{.underline}: Confirmation of a long-segment deep venous
thrombosis in the right leg, starting in the pelvis (proximal end not
clearly delineated) and extending to the lower leg.
Visible Inferior Vena Cava without evidence of thrombosis.
The findings were communicated to the treating physician.
**Full-Body Trauma CT on 04/03/2017:**
[Clinical Information and Justification:]{.underline} Motocross
accident. Polytrauma alert. Consequences of trauma? Informed consent:
Emergency indication. Recommended monitoring of kidney and thyroid
laboratory parameters.
**Findings**: CCT: Dissection of the distal internal carotid artery on
both sides (left 2-fold).
Signs of generalized elevated intracranial pressure.
Open skull-brain trauma with intracranial air inclusions and skull base
fracture at the level of the roof of the ethmoidal/sphenoidal sinuses
and clivus (in a close relationship to the bilateral internal carotid
arteries) and the temporal
**CT Head on 04/16/2017:**
[Clinical Information and Justification:]{.underline} History of skull
fracture, removal of EVD (External Ventricular Drain). Inquiry about the
course.
[Findings]{.underline}: Regression of ventricular system width (distance
of SVVH currently 41 mm, previously 46 mm) with residual liquor caps,
indicative of regressed hydrocephalus. Interhemispheric fissure in the
midline. No herniation.
Complete regression of subdural hematoma on the left, tentorial region.
Known defect areas on the right frontal lobe where previous catheters
were inserted.
Progression of a newly hypodense demarcated cortical infarct on the
left, postcentral.
Known bilateral skull base fractures involving the petrous bone, with
secretion retention in the mastoid air cells bilaterally. Minimal
secretion also in the sphenoid sinuses.
Postoperative bone fragments dislocated intracranially after right
frontal trepanation.
**Chest X-ray on 04/24/2017.**
[Clinical Information and Justification:]{.underline} Mechanically
ventilated patient. Suspected pneumonia. Question about infiltrates.
[Findings]{.underline}: Several previous images for comparison, last one
from 08/20/2021.
Persistence of infiltrates in the right lower lobe. No evidence of new
infiltrates. Removal of the tracheal tube and central venous catheter
with a newly inserted tracheal cannula. No evidence of pleural effusion
or pneumothorax.
**CT Head on 04/25/2017:**
[Clinical Information and Justification:]{.underline} Severe traumatic
brain injury with brain edema, one External Ventricular Drain removed,
one parenchymal catheter removed; Follow-up.
[Findings]{.underline}: Previous images available, CT last performed on
04/09/17, and MRI on 04/16/17.
Massive cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) stasis supra- and infratentorially
with CSF pressure caps at the ventricular and cisternal levels with
completely depleted external CSF spaces, differential diagnosis:
malresorptive hydrocephalus. The EVD and parenchymal catheter have been
completely removed.
No evidence of fresh intracranial hemorrhage. Residual subdural hematoma
on the left, tentorial. Slight regression of the cerebellar tonsils.
Increasing hypodensity of the known defect zone on the right frontal
region, differential diagnosis: CSF diapedesis. Otherwise, the status is
the same as for the other defects.
Secretion in the sphenoid sinus and mastoid cells bilaterally, known
bilateral skull base fractures.
**Bedside Chest X-ray on 04/262017:**
[Clinical Information and Justification]{.underline}: Respiratory
insufficiency. Inquiry about cardiorespiratory status.
[Findings]{.underline}: Previous image from 08/17/2021.
Left Central Venous Catheter and gastric tube in unchanged position.
Persistent consolidation in the right para-hilar region, differential
diagnosis: contusion or partial atelectasis. No evidence of new
pulmonary infiltrates. No pleural effusion. No pneumothorax. No
pulmonary congestion.
**Brain MRI on 04/26/2017:**
[Clinical Information and Justification:]{.underline} Severe skull-brain
trauma with skull calvarium, mastoid, and skull base fractures.
Assessment of infarct areas/edema for rehabilitation planning.
[Findings:]{.underline} Several previous examinations available.
Persistent small sulcal hemorrhages in both hemispheres (left \> right)
and parenchymal hemorrhage on the left frontal with minimal perifocal
edema.
Narrow subdural hematoma on the left occipital extending tentorially (up
to 2 mm).
No current signs of hypoxic brain damage. No evidence of fresh ischemia.
Slightly regressed ventricular size. No herniation. Unchanged placement
of catheters on the right frontal side. Mastoid air cells blocked
bilaterally due to known bilateral skull base fractures, mucosal
swelling in the sphenoid and ethmoid sinuses. Polypous mucosal swelling
in the left maxillary sinus. Other involved paranasal sinuses and
mastoids are clear.
**Bedside Chest X-ray on 04/27/2017:**
[Clinical Information and Justification:]{.underline} Tracheal cannula
placement. Inquiry about the position.
[Findings]{.underline}: Images from 04/03/2017 for comparison.
Tracheal cannula with tip projecting onto the trachea. No pneumothorax.
Regressing infiltrate in the right lower lung field. No leaking pleural
effusions.
Left ubclavian central venous catheter with tip projecting onto the
superior vena cava. Gastric tube in situ.
**CT Head on 04/28/2017:**
[Clinical Information and Justification:]{.underline} Open head injury,
bilateral subarachnoid hemorrhage (SAH), EVD placement. Inquiry about
herniation.
[Findings]{.underline}: Comparison with the last prior examination from
the previous day.
Generalized signs of cerebral edema remain constant, slightly
progressing with a somewhat increasing blurred cortical border,
particularly high frontal.
Essentially constant transtentorial herniation of the midbrain and low
position of the cerebellar tonsils. Marked reduction of inner CSF spaces
and depleted external CSF spaces, unchanged position of the ventricular
drainage catheter with the tip in the left lateral ventricle.
Constant small parenchymal hemorrhage on the left frontal and constant
SDH at the tentorial edge on both sides. No evidence of new intracranial
space-occupying hemorrhage.
Slightly less distinct demarcation of the demarcated infarcts/defect
zones, e.g., on the right frontal region, differential diagnosis:
fogging.
**CT Head Angiography with Perfusion on 04/28/2017:**
[Clinical Information and Justification]{.underline}: Post-traumatic
head injury, rising intracranial pressure, bilateral internal carotid
artery dissection. Inquiry about intracranial bleeding, edema course,
herniation, brain perfusion.
[Emergency indication:]{.underline} Vital indication. Recommended
monitoring of kidney and thyroid laboratory parameters. Consultation
with the attending physician from and the neuroradiology service was
conducted.
[Technique]{.underline}: Native moderately of the neurocranium. CT
angiography of brain-supplying cervical intracranial vessels during
arterial contrast agent phase and perfusion imaging of the neurocranium
after intravenous injection of a total of 140 ml of Xenetix-350. DLP
Head 502.4 mGy*cm. DLP Body 597.4 mGy*cm.
[Findings]{.underline}: Previous images from 08/11/2021 and the last CTA
of the head/neck from 04/03/2017 for comparison.
[Brain]{.underline}: Constant bihemispheric and cerebellar brain edema
with a slit-like appearance of the internal and completely compressed
external ventricular spaces. Constant compression of the midbrain with
transtentorial herniation and a constant tonsillar descent.
Increasing demarcation of infarct areas in the border zone of MCA-ACA on
the right frontal, possibly also on the left frontal. Predominantly
preserved cortex-gray matter contrast, sometimes discontinuous on both
frontal sides, differential diagnosis: artifact-related, differential
diagnosis: disseminated infarct demarcations/contusions.
Unchanged placement of the ventricular drainage from the right frontal
with the catheter tip in the left lateral ventricle anterior horn.
Constant subdural hematoma tentorial and posterior falx. Increasingly
vague delineation of the small frontal parenchymal hemorrhage. No new
space-occupying intracranial bleeding.
No evidence of secondary dislocation of the skull base fracture with
constant fluid collections in the paranasal sinuses and mastoid air
cells. Hematoma possible, cerebrospinal fluid leakage possible.
[CT Angiography Head/Neck]{.underline}: Constant presentation of
bilateral internal carotid artery dissection.
No evidence of higher-grade vessel stenosis or occlusion of the
brain-supplying intracranial arteries.
Moderately dilated venous collateral circuits in the cranial soft
tissues on both sides, right \> left. Moderately dilated ophthalmic
veins on both sides, right \> left.
No evidence of sinus or cerebral venous thrombosis. Slight perfusion
deficits in the area of the described infarct areas and contusions.
No evidence of perfusion mismatches in the perfusion imaging.
Unchanged presentation of the other documented skeletal segments.
Additional Note: Discussion of findings with the responsible medical
colleagues on-site and by telephone, as well as with the neuroradiology
service by telephone, was conducted.
**CT Head on 04/30/2017:**
[Clinical Information and Justification]{.underline}: Open head injury
following a motorcycle accident.. Inquiry about rebleeding, edema, EVD
displacement.
[Findings and Assessment:]{.underline} CT last performed on 04/05/2017
for comparison.
Constant narrow subdural hematoma on both sides, tentorial and posterior
parasagittal. Constant small parenchymal hemorrhage on the left frontal.
No new intracranial bleeding.
Progressively demarcated infarcts on the right frontal and left
parietal.
Slightly progressive compression of the narrow ventricles as an
indication of progressive edema. Completely depleted external CSF spaces
with the ventricular drain catheter in the left lateral ventricle.
Increasing compression of the midbrain due to transtentorial herniation,
progressive tonsillar descent of 6 mm.
Fracture of the skull base and the petrous part of the temporal bone on
both sides without significant displacement. Hematoma in the mastoid and
sphenoid sinuses and the maxillary sinus.
**CT Head on 05/01/2017:**
[Clinical Information and Justification:]{.underline} Open skull-brain
trauma. Inquiry about CSF stasis, bleeding, edema.
[Findings]{.underline}: CT last performed on 04/05/17 for comparison.
Completely regressed subarachnoid hemorrhages on both sides. Minimal SDH
components on the tentorial edges bilaterally (left more than right,
with a 3 mm margin width). No new intracranial bleeding. Continuously
narrow inner ventricular system and narrow basal cisterns. The fourth
ventricle is unfolded. Narrow external CSF spaces and consistently
swollen gyration with global cerebral edema.
Better demarcated circumscribed hypodensity in the centrum semiovale on
the right (Series 3, Image 176) and left (Series 3, Image 203);
Differential diagnosis: fresh infarcts due to distal ACI dissections.
Consider repeat vascular imaging. No midline shift. No herniation.
Regressing intracranial air inclusions. Fracture of the skull base and
the petrous part of the temporal bone on both sides without significant
displacement. Hematoma in the maxillary, sphenoidal, and ethmoidal
sinuses.
**Consultation Reports:**
**1) Consultation with Ophthalmology on 04/03/2017**
[Patient Information:]{.underline}
- Motorbike accident, heavily contaminated eyes.
- Request for assessment.
**Diagnosis:** Motorbike accident
**Findings:** Patient intubated, unresponsive. In cranial CT, the
eyeball appears intact, no retrobulbar hematoma. Intraocular pressure:
Right/left within the normal range. Eyelid margins of both eyes crusty
with sand, inferiorly in the lower lid sac, and on the upper lid with
sand. Lower lid somewhat chemotic. Slight temporal hyperemia in the left
eyelid angle. Both eyes have erosions, small, multiple, superficial.
Lower conjunctival sac clean. Round pupils, anisocoria right larger than
left. Left iris hyperemia, no iris defects in the direct light. Lens
unremarkable. Reduced view of the optic nerve head due to miosis,
somewhat pale, rather sharp-edged, central neuroretinal rim present,
central vessels normal. Left eye, due to narrow pupil, limited view,
optic nerve head not visible, central vessels normal, no retinal
hemorrhages.
**Assessment:** Eyelid and conjunctival foreign bodies removed. Mild
erosions in the lower conjunctival sac. Right optic nerve head somewhat
pale, rather sharp-edged.
**Current Recommendations:**
- Antibiotic eye drops three times a day for both eyes.
- Ensure complete eyelid closure.
**2) Consultation with Craniomaxillofacial (CMF) Surgery on 04/05/2017**
**Patient Information:**
- Motorbike accident with severe open traumatic brain injury with
fractures of the cranial vault, mastoid, and skull base
<!-- -->
- Request for assessment.
- Patient with maxillary fracture.
**Findings:** According to the responsible attending physician,
\"minimal handling in case of decompensating intracranial pressure\" is
indicated. Therefore, currently, a cautious approach is suggested
regarding surgical intervention for the radiologically hardly displaced
maxillary fracture. Re-consultation is possible if there are changes in
the clinical outcome.
**Assessment:** Awaiting developments.
**3) Consultation with Neurology on 04/06/2017**
**Patient Information:**
- Brain edema following a severe open traumatic brain injury with
fractures of the cranial vault, mastoid, and skull base
<!-- -->
- Request for assessment.
- Traumatic subarachnoid hemorrhage, intracranial artery dissection,
and various other injuries.
**Findings:** Patient comatose, intubated, sedated. Isocoric pupils. No
light reaction in either eye. No reaction to pain stimuli for
vestibulo-ocular reflex and oculomotor responses. Babinski reflex
negative.
**Assessment:** Long-term ventilation due to a history of intracerebral
bleeding and skull base fracture. No response to pain stimuli or light
reactions in the eyes.
**Procedure/Therapy Suggestion:** Monitoring of patient condition.
**4) Consultation with ENT on 04/16/2017**
**Patient Information:** Tracheostomy tube change.
**Findings:** Tracheostomy tube change performed. Stoma unremarkable.
Trachea clear up to the bifurcation. Sutures in place.
**Assessment:** Re-consultation on 08/27/2021 for suture removal.
**5) Consultation with Neurology on 04/22/2017**
**Patient Information:** Adduction deficit., Request for assessment.
**Findings:** Long-term ventilation due to a history of intracerebral
bleeding and skull base fracture. Adduction deficit in the right eye and
horizontal nystagmus.
**Assessment:** Suspected mesencephalic lesion due to horizontal
nystagmus, but no diagnostic or therapeutic action required.
**6) Consultation with ENT on 04/23/2017**
**Patient Information:** Suture removal. Request for assessment.
**Findings:** Tracheostomy site unremarkable. Sutures trimmed, and skin
sutures removed.
**Assessment:** Procedure completed successfully.
Please note that some information is clinical and may not include
specific dates or recommendations for further treatment.
**Antibiogram:**
**Antibiotic** **Organism 1 (Pseudomonas aeruginosa)** **Organism 2 (Acinetobacter radioresistens)**
------------------------- ----------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------
Aztreonam I (4.0) \-
Cefepime I (2.0) \-
Cefotaxime \- \-
Amikacin S (\<=2.0) S (4.0)
Ampicillin \- \-
Piperacillin I (\<=4.0) \-
Piperacillin/Tazobactam I (8.0) \-
Imipenem I (2.0) S (\<=0.25)
Meropenem S (\<=0.25) S (\<=0.25)
Ceftriaxone \- \-
Ceftazidime I (4.0) \-
Gentamicin . (\<=1.0) S (\<=1.0)
Tobramycin S (\<=1.0) S (\<=1.0)
Cotrimoxazole \- S (\<=20.0)
Ciprofloxacin I (\<=0.25) I (0.5)
Moxifloxacin \- \-
Fosfomycin \- \-
Tigecyclin \- \-
\"S\" means Susceptible
\"I\" means Intermediate
\".\" indicates not specified
\"-\" means Resistant
### Patient Report 2
**Dear colleague, **
We are reporting on our mutual patient, Mr. John Chapman, born on
11/16/1994, who presented himself to our Outpatient Clinic from
08/08/2018.
**Diagnoses**:
- Right abducens Nerve Palsy and Facial Nerve Palsy
- Lagophthalmos with corneal opacities due to eyelid closure deficit
- Left Abducens Nerve Palsy with slight compensatory head leftward
rotation and preferred leftward gaze
- Bilateral disc swelling
- Suspected left cavernous internal carotid artery aneurysm following
traumatic ICA dissection
- History of shunt explantation due to dysfunction and right-sided
re-implantation (Codman, current pressure setting 12 cm H2O)
- History of left VP shunt placement (programmable
ventriculoperitoneal shunt, initial pressure setting 5/25 cm H2O,
adjusted to 3 cm H2O before discharge)
- Malresorptive hydrocephalus
- History of severe open head injury in a motocross accident with
multiple skull fractures and distal dissection
**Procedure**: We conducted the following preoperative assessment:
- Visual acuity: Distant vision: Right eye: 0.5, Left eye: 0.8p
- Eye position: Fusion/Normal with significant esotropia in the right
eye; no fusion reflex observed
- Ocular deviation: After CT, at distance, esodeviation simulating
alternating 100 prism diopters (overcorrection); at near,
esodeviation simulating alternating 90 prism diopters
- Head posture: Fusion/Normal with leftward head turn of 5-10 degrees
- Correspondence: Bagolini test shows suppression at both distance and
near fixation
- Motility: Right eye abduction limited to 25 degrees from the
midline, abduction in up and down gaze limited to 30 degrees from
midline; left eye abduction limited to 30 degrees
- Binocular functions: Bagolini test shows suppression in the right
eye at both distance and near fixation; Lang I negative
**Current Presentation:** Mr. Chapman presented himself today in our
neurovascular clinic, providing an MRI of the head.
**Medical History:** The patient is known to have a pseudoaneurysm of
the cavernous left internal carotid artery following traumatic carotid
dissection in 04/2017, along with ipsilateral abducens nerve palsy.
**Physical Examination:** Patient in good general condition. Oriented in
all aspects. No cyanosis. No edema. Warm and dry skin. Normal nasal and
pharyngeal findings. Pupils round, equal, and react promptly to light
bilaterally. Moist tongue. Pharynx and buccal mucosa unremarkable. No
jugular vein distension. No carotid bruits heard. Palpation of lymph
nodes unremarkable. Palpation of the thyroid gland unremarkable, freely
movable. Lungs: Normal chest shape, moderately mobile, vesicular breath
sounds. Heart: Regular heart action, normal rate; heart sounds clear, no
pathological sounds. Abdomen: Peristalsis and bowel sounds normal in all
quadrants; soft abdomen, no tenderness, no palpable masses, liver and
spleen not palpable due to limited access, non-tender kidneys. Normal
peripheral pulses; joints freely movable. Strength, motor function, and
sensation are unremarkable.
**Therapy and Progression:** The pseudoaneurysm has shown slight
enlargement in the recent follow-up imaging and remains partially
thrombosed. The findings were discussed on during a neurovascular board
meeting, where a recommendation for endovascular treatment was made,
which the patient has not yet pursued. Since Mr. Chapman has not been
able to decide on treatment thus far, it is advisable to further
evaluate this still asymptomatic condition through a diagnostic
angiography. This examination would also help in better planning any
potential intervention. Mr. Chapman agreed to this course of action, and
we will provide him with a timely appointment for the angiography.
**Lab results upon Discharge:**
**Parameter** **Results** **Reference Range**
-------------------- ------------- ---------------------
Creatinine (Jaffé) 0.44 mg/dL 0.70-1.20 mg/dL
Urea 31 mg/dL 17-48 mg/dL
Total Bilirubin 0.35 mg/dL \< 1.20 mg/dL
Hemoglobin 7.8 g/dL 13.5-17.0 g/dL
Hematocrit 28% 39.5-50.5%
Red Blood Cells 3.5 M/uL 4.3-5.8 M/uL
White Blood Cells 10.35 K/uL 3.90-10.50 K/uL
Platelets 379 K/uL 150-370 K/uL
MCV 77.2 fL 80.0-99.0 fL
MCH 24.1 pg 27.0-33.5 pg
MCHC 32.5 g/dL 31.5-36.0 g/dL
MPV 11.3 fL 7.0-12.0 fL
RDW-CV 17.7% 11.5-15.0%
Quick 54% 78-123%
INR 1.36 0.90-1.25
aPTT 32.8 sec 25.0-38.0 sec
### Patient Report 3
**Dear colleague, **
We are reporting on our patient, Mr. John Chapman, born on 11/16/1994,
who was under our inpatient care from 05/25/2019 to 05/26/2019.
**Diagnoses: **
- Pseudoaneurysm of the cavernous left internal carotid artery
following traumatic carotid dissection
- Abducens nerve palsy.
- History of severe open head trauma with fractures of the cranial
vault, mastoid, and skull base. Distal ICA dissection bilaterally.
Bilateral hemispheric subarachnoid hemorrhage extending into the
basal cisterns.mInfarct areas in the MCA-ACA border zones, right
frontal, and left parietal. Malresorptive hydrocephalus.
<!-- -->
- Rhabdomyolysis.
- History of aspiration pneumonia.
- Suspected Propofol infusion syndrome.
**Current Presentation:** For cerebral digital subtraction angiography
of the intracranial vessels. The patient presented with stable
cardiopulmonary conditions.
**Medical History**: The patient was admitted for the evaluation of a
pseudoaneurysm of the supra-aortic vessels. Further medical history can
be assumed to be known.
**Physical Examination:** Patient in good general condition. Oriented in
all aspects. No cyanosis. No edema. Warm and dry skin. Normal nasal and
pharyngeal findings. Pupils round, equal, and react promptly to light
bilaterally. Moist tongue. Pharynx and buccal mucosa unremarkable. No
jugular vein distension. No carotid bruits heard. Palpation of lymph
nodes unremarkable. Palpation of the thyroid gland unremarkable, freely
movable. Lungs: Normal chest shape, moderately mobile, vesicular breath
sounds. Heart: Regular heart action, normal rate; heart sounds clear, no
pathological sounds. Abdomen: Peristalsis and bowel sounds normal in all
quadrants; soft abdomen, no tenderness, no palpable masses, liver and
spleen not palpable due to limited access, non-tender kidneys. Normal
peripheral pulses; joints freely movable. Strength, motor function, and
sensation are unremarkable.
**Supra-aortic angiography on 05/25/2019:**
[Clinical context, question, justifying indication:]{.underline}
Pseudoaneurysm of the left ICA. Written consent was obtained for the
procedure. Anesthesia, Medications: Procedure performed under local
anesthesia. Medications: 500 IU Heparin in 500 mL NaCl for flushing.
[Methodology]{.underline}: Puncture of the right common femoral artery
under local anesthesia. 4F sheath, 4F vertebral catheter. Serial
angiographies after selective catheterization of the internal carotid
arteries. Uncomplicated manual intra-arterial contrast medium injection
with a total of 50 mL of Iomeron 300. Post-interventional closure of the
puncture site by manual compression. Subsequent application of a
circular pressure bandage.
[Technique]{.underline}: Biplanar imaging technique, area dose product
1330 cGy x cm², fluoroscopy time 3:43 minutes.
[Findings]{.underline}: The perfused portion of the partially thrombosed
cavernous aneurysm of the left internal carotid artery measures 4 x 2
mm. No evidence of other vascular pathologies in the anterior
circulation.
[Recommendation]{.underline}: In case of post-procedural bleeding,
immediate manual compression of the puncture site and notification of
the on-call neuroradiologist are advised.
- Pressure bandage to be kept until 2:30 PM. Bed rest until 6:30 PM.
- Follow-up in our Neurovascular Clinic
**Addition: Doppler ultrasound of the right groin on 05/26/2019:**
[Clinical context, question, justifying indication:]{.underline} Free
fluid? Hematoma?
[Findings]{.underline}: A CT scan from 04/05/2017 is available for
comparison. No evidence of a significant hematoma or an aneurysm in the
right groin puncture site. No evidence of an arteriovenous fistula.
Normal flow profiles of the femoral artery and vein. No evidence of
thrombosis.
**Treatment and Progression:** Pre-admission occurred on 05/24/2019 due
to a medically justified increase in risk for DSA of intracranial
vessels. After appropriate preparation, the angiography was performed on
05/25/2019. The puncture site was managed with a pressure bandage. In
the color Doppler sonographic control the following day, neither a
puncture aneurysm nor an arteriovenous fistula was detected. On
05/25/2019, we discharged the patient in good subjective condition for
your outpatient follow-up care.
**Current Recommendations:** Outpatient follow-up
**Lab results:**
**Parameter** **Reference Range** **Result**
----------------------- --------------------- -------------
Sodium 136-145 mEq/L 141 mEq/L
Potassium 3.5-4.5 mEq/L 4.9 mEq/L
Chloride 98-107 mEq/L 100 mEq/L
Osmolality 280-300 mOsm/kg 290 mOsm/kg
Glucose in Fluoride 60-110 mg/dL 76 mg/dL
Creatinine (Jaffé) 0.70-1.20 mg/dL 0.98 mg/dL
CRP \< 5.0 mg/L 4.5 mg/L
Triglycerides \< 150 mg/dL 119 mg/dL
Creatine Kinase \< 190 U/L 142 U/L
Free Triiodothyronine 2.00-4.40 ng/L 3.25 ng/L
Free Thyroxine 9.30-17.00 ng/L 14.12 ng/L
TSH Basal 0.27-4.20 mU/L 1.65 mU/L
Hemoglobin 13.5-17.0 g/dL 14.3 g/dL
Hematocrit 39.5-50.5% 43.4%
Erythrocytes 4.3-5.8 M/uL 5.6 M/uL
Leukocytes 3.90-10.50 K/uL 10.25 K/uL
Platelets 150-370 K/uL 198 K/uL
MCV 80.0-99.0 fL 83.2 fL
MCH 27.0-33.5 pg 28.1 pg
MCHC 31.5-36.0 g/dL 33.4 g/dL
MPV 7.0-12.0 fL 11.6 fL
RDW-CV 11.5-15.0% 13.5%
Quick \> 78% 90%
INR \< 1.25 1.07
aPTT 25.0-38.0 sec 36.1 sec | Malresorptive hydrocephalus |
"The Pequod, Nimitz, and Triton are all references to? \nA. crewmen aboard the Charles Partlow Sale\(...TRUNCATED) | "GOURMET By ALLEN KIM LANG [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Magazine April 1(...TRUNCATED) | B. seafaring men or ships from literature |
"Referring to the passage’s title, who was the “Monster Maker”?\nA. Click\nB. Human imaginatio(...TRUNCATED) | "The Monster Maker By RAY BRADBURY \"Get Gunther,\" the official orders read. It was to laugh! For C(...TRUNCATED) | B. Human imagination |
"What effect do the bombs have on the war?\n\nA. They end the war but turn the world into a zombie l(...TRUNCATED) | "HOMECOMING BY MIGUEL HIDALGO What lasts forever? Does love? Does death?... Nothing lasts forever...(...TRUNCATED) | C. They end the war, but turn it into a semi-apocalyptic landscape. |
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