Creators of the Game of Thrones, now in the middle of the fourth season, go through a lot of possibilities when charting the story. So it comes as no surprise that there are many outtakes that were deemed to be specialty items. Below is one of them.
Opening scene
Tywin Llanister and his children Tyrion, Cersei and Jaime hang out at Casterly Rock. They sit around the fire pit and make s'mores. There is tension building up and the reason becomes clear when Tywin announces to his children that their legendary fortune has gone missing. “We are living off the credit cards,” he says, “bankers have it all,” he adds menacingly. “There is no positive revenue stream, these goddamn wars are ruining us.”
A look through the window says it all: dilapidated infrastructure, houses made out of sticks, roads full of potholes, and miserable citizens. “Soon there will be nobody worth taxing here, it is time for a change,” he booms. He glares at his children and gets even more agitated “this is a failed kingdom” he says, "I am running out of ideas.” Tyrion looks up and says with bitterness “Father, why is it that it is only us that have to look for an answer to every damn question? Can we get more out of our citizens?”
“We can lop off their heads, but there is nothing in them,” answers irritated Tywin and walks out of the room.
In the brothel of Petyr Baelish (aka Littlefinger)
This is a place where saying "screw anything that moves" gets a completely new meaning. A distinguished gentelman moves through the establishment as naked men and women mill around, animal noises come from behind the doors and rich visuals give a sense that one is in a fantasy land of a total sexual fulfillment. One would love to linger there for a handful of gratuitous sex scenes before we move on with the story.
Eventually, we follow the gentelman outside where he, by a total coincidence, sits next to equally exhausted Tyrion. "Vannevar, senior advisor, " he introduces himself to Tyrion, the most recognizable nobility in the Seven Kingdoms.
For a while they sit in silence watching a little peasant girl across the street playing with Rubik's cube and trying to get a grip on the generators of a particular subgroup of the permutation group.
"My father thinks that Seven Kingdoms is populated by dummies and dimwits," says Tyrion to nobody in particular.
"Nonsense," answers Vannevar. "The whole world runs on ideas and they come from all sort of places,” and he points at the girl who in spite of her considerable mathematical powers has no shoes.
The Council
A large conference room in King's Landing. All Lannisters are present, Tyrion introduces Vannevar who gets up in front and begins his pitch.
"Battle of Blackwater was the greatest battle in history and there are two main factors behind our victory," he pauses briefly, "the bravery of Lord Tywin," he bows in the direction of Tywin who sits stone-faced and does not react to crude flattery, "and the Green Fire, a scientific discovery of profound military impact." Tyrion scowls as he sees his contribution being ignored again. Alas, the stakes are high and he encourages Vannevar with a smile.
"Unfortunately, today the Realm looks more like a fantasy land than a serious country," continues Vannevar stepping onto a treacherous path, "economy is stalled, education is non-existent and discovery rate falls behind the most pressing needs." "We need to shore up the Realm and we identified science and innovation as a source of considerable growth and wealth.” He takes a deep breath and plunges forward, "I propose that we create Science for the Realm foundation that will capture the best ideas of our citizens.”
He goes on for another five minutes spelling out some details: funding for the best proposals with up to two months of winter support, a season traditionally punctuated by a high attrition rate, and few other enablers for deep thinking. A network of sponsored research offices across the lands will give something to do for our otherwise unemployable citizens and it will facilitate the submissions.
"Winter support before they have done anything useful?" Cersei interrupts, "it does not make any sense!" Vannevar is ready for it, "Yes, it looks peculiar but the idea is one of encouragement. Many will not deliver and we can later strengthen the Night's Watch with them.”
"What kind of discovery are you talking about?" asks Tywin curiously. Sir Vannevar gets clearly excited by these encouraging responses and decides to lower his guard by removing his helmet and main battle weapons strapped to his body. Now his voice projects far better, "that is the beauty of it!" he exclaims, "we do not know what is not discovered yet!" and now that he is 80 pounds lighter, he jumps three feet up in the air from an uncontrollable joy of putting the Realm on the path of scientific discovery.
Science for the Realm foundation
Some months later the Science for the Realm gets off the ground and Cersei gets the reins. Her love for morning stand-up meetings, adherence to procedure and expectation for kowtowing are legendary. “We will issue some solicitations” begins Vannevar excitedly. “There will be no whoring in my foundation,” Cersei cuts in, unwilling to listen. “No whoring, my queen,” explains Vannevar, “solicitation is a technical term. It helps people to understand what they are really interested in.” “Excellent,” concludes Cersei, “in this case I do not want unsolicited proposals.” Vannevar face clouds as it dawns on him that advising trigger-happy Cersei is not going to be easy.
Transmutation and Hazard Seas
Cersei, Vannavar and the rest of the Llanisters are in a small dungeon planning the first round of solicitations. Cersei, whose real passion is chemistry, is adamant that “Transmutation is high-risk, high-payoff work.” After a brief pause she adds ominously “Risk is really someone else’s worry." Nobody dares to say anything contradictory particularly since turning junk into gold is indeed a pressing need. “Let’s hope something good comes in,” says Vannevar who would have preferred a more open-ended call. Transmutation is a scientific rubbish of the highest order, but it is the main recruitment tool for chemists.
Tywin throws in Hazard Seas, a honey-pot of empty slogans rooted in the fact that Seven Kingdoms are surrounded by water which is often treacherous. Vannevar sees a lot of winter support going towards scam-artists with dubious credentials, but “As you wish, my Lord” is all he dares to say. Tyrion as usual is brooding in the corner. He is a mathematician at heart and he finds the current environment rather hostile.
The first panel
takes place in a big room in King's Landing. Ten burly knights sit around the table at distances that ensure some personal safety. The Program Knight sits at the head of the table, and little clay tablets with names of applicants end up on "Fund" and "Do not fund" piles. He tries valiantly to control the room. "Remember conflict of interest rules; you do not review ideas from people that slayed your family members" he yells above the crowd "even in a fair fight" he adds as an afterthought. Other Program Knights visit the panel frequently to get a sense where things are going. The reviewers are fully armed and armored just in case an insurmountable difference of opinions occurs. Most have full-face helmets as well and an odd echo makes them hard to understand. "This is worse than combat" complains one of the knight-reviewers, "in the battle at least you kill your enemies." "Don't you worry, you are making a killing" cheers him up the Program Knight "we do not expect the success rate to top 15%."
Black Powder
The panel is going well until they arrive at the proposal that calls for a mixture of one part of sulfur, one part of charcoal and five parts of saltpeter and describes tubes of various diameter that use this concoction to send projectiles at great distances.
The Program Knight gets so excited that he starts frothing at the mouth, "Distance fighting? This is potentially transformative! We can win all wars with it!" Knight-reviewers cluster together like guppies in a shark tank. "We have considerable investment in the military workforce, many years of specialized training. This looks like a short lived novelty," they declare collectively.
At this point Cersei comes in to greet the panel. The Program Knight approaches excitedly, "My queen, we have a great idea on our hands," he declares. Cersei glances at him and mutters "No recent head trauma, I hope." She briefly scans the proposal's parchments. "That is the problem with rotating Program Knights," she says in a manner of explanation. "The chemistry here is quite elementary and this proposal is not responsive to the solicitation! This clearly isn't transmutation work." She makes up her mind quickly, "Send it back without review," is the final verdict as she leaves the room.
Reconsideration
In the courtyard of Casterly Rock a herald announces the results of the first funding competition. Some are overjoyed with winter support which includes a large sack of grains, others take the declination in silence, and a small group demands a reconsideration.
Citizen Harley Brown is particularly bitter. "My transmutation project on changing hog's testicles into diamonds and cow's manure into gold dust did not get a fair hearing." He shuffles around and raises hell. "I have heard that when it was discussed two knight-reviewers passed out of heat exhaustion and the Program Knight's comments is a template declination!" he roars.
Cersei looks around and rules "Reconsideration granted. Don your armor, the trial begins in a hour”.
Harley’s Brown eyes bulge out as he blabbers "armor? trial? what is going on?"
"You will confront your Program Knight with a weapon of your choice in a fight that will terminate with the first lost limb," explains the herald. "If you are in one piece at the end, you will receive your winter support" he adds helpfully.
Harley freezes in terror watching his Program Knight strapping a giant battle ax and checking the edge on a large sword emblazoned with words “PI Slayer.” “I just wanted an additional review,” he tries to explain but it is too late as reconsideration is about to begin.
Harley steps out into the field in an ill-fitting rental armor with a rusty sword in one hand and a shield resembling a garbage can cover in the other. The Program Knight easily saunters in sporting the latest weaponry available. The public watches it with amusement and is making bets which limb Harley is going to lose. “Who would have thought that science is so much fun,” one of the gawkers comments.
“I will get your left hand,” whispers the Program Knight “it is a matter of institutional pride at this point.” The tears well-up in Harley's eyes and the duel begins.
With the lightning speed the Program Knight rolls onto the ground tripping poor Harley, springs up again and raises his ax to cut off Harley's right leg. Seconds later he kneels next to him and pulls the tourniquet from a compartment in his armor to stop the bleeding. “Good effort,” he tells Harley to make him feel better. “You can stuff it up for a souvenir,” he says placing the detached leg on Harley’s chest.
In the sponsored research office
Cersei walks around a long windowless corridor with a group of distinguished visitors representing business investors.
"This is one of our sponsored research offices, " she says with some pride. "Our relationship with researchers is what is called tough love," she adds pointing at the blood-stained floor and a row of empty coffins along the wall.
They pass by a small room where a screaming individual is being fitted for the Iron Maiden. "What is going on?" one of the visitors inquires. "Overdue annual report," answers Cersei who has interest in every aspect of the operation. "Isn't Iron Maiden a one-way trip?" someone whispers with morbid curiosity. "We are not doing it for his benefit," explains Cersei, "it helps the rest of the lot to focus better.”
In spite of some unpleasantries, the reports from the field are promising. There is tremendous interest in scientific discovery in Seven Kingdoms and Llanisters' enemies are taking note too.
Stannis Baratheon bedroom, early evening
"You look tired my Lord, can I help you to relax?" croons Melisandre lounging on a large bed covered with animal furs (heads and tails included). "Yeah, I am restless, I guess I will go to the garden to shoot some chipmunks," replies Stannis absent-mindedly. "I have something better in mind," she says as she slithers closer letting her red cape fall behind. Not surprisingly she does not wear anything else. "Your codpiece is so large these days," she purrs excitedly. Stannis, clearly still thinking about obliterating chipmunks, has problems catching up with action.
Melisandre starts removing his chainmail and codpiece. Stannis is immediately interested but there is fear in his eyes. In a flash his pants are off and suddenly a large object falls from his crotch area. "I do not know what it is" is a pretty stupid response to an unspoken question. Melisandre picks it up with curiosity. "Grant proposal guide?!" she exclaims angrily. "So my magic is not good enough for you?" she hisses, "you think that this science rubbish is going to give you the power over the Realm?!" she yells. Stannis looks down totally humiliated. He puts on his pants, grabs his crossbow and soon a fusillade of shots and squeals of chipmunks are heard from outside.
Dragon flight
Daenerys gently whispers to her dragons when Jorah comes along. “What’s wrong with him?” he points at the dragon that is a bit discolored and wheezing. Daenerys hugs the dragon and speaks in baby-voice “You’ve been a bad, bad dragon, haven’t you? You ate a bad bubu this morning.” She mocks the dragon who belches loudly and tries to control some digestive problems. “He ate a peasant again” she explains to Jorah, “it is such a headache.” Meantime the other dragon tries to surreptitiously swallow something that looks very much like a human arm. “You really have to pay more attention to the PR, my queen,” Jorah utters resignedly. “I am Khaleesi, the Mother of Dragons, for fuck’s sake” replies Daenerys.
They walk along the cliff with dragons shlepping behind, too lazy to fly. “Do we have to jump on this science bandwagon?” she asks “or three dragons are enough of an edge?” Jorah, who is always skeptical of the military use of dragons, glances back. “A few proposals on dragon flight theory would not hurt. They barely get off the ground these days.” Thirty feet long stream of burning napalm shoots inches away from him and the dragon responsible for it gives him a stink eye. “I may be wrong," concedes Jorah.
First year anniversary
On the first anniversary of the Science for the Realm there is a big ceremony in King’s Landing. All principal investigators arrive together with their families, foreign dignitaries and nobility. Festivities last for days, and a few fatalities result from overindulgence.
After the first year research highlights are still pretty sparse. Many of transmutation projects are pretty outlandish, but so far there is no gold where there was none before. One a positive note,
one highlight of the Hazard Seas program turns viral and everybody is talking about it. It is a Barf Bag, a small burlap sack where sea-faring individuals can deposit their vomit without being a nuisance for the fellow passengers. Suddenly discovery and innovation is on everybody’s mind and the fate of the Science for the Realm foundation is sealed.
Opening scene
Tywin Llanister and his children Tyrion, Cersei and Jaime hang out at Casterly Rock. They sit around the fire pit and make s'mores. There is tension building up and the reason becomes clear when Tywin announces to his children that their legendary fortune has gone missing. “We are living off the credit cards,” he says, “bankers have it all,” he adds menacingly. “There is no positive revenue stream, these goddamn wars are ruining us.”
A look through the window says it all: dilapidated infrastructure, houses made out of sticks, roads full of potholes, and miserable citizens. “Soon there will be nobody worth taxing here, it is time for a change,” he booms. He glares at his children and gets even more agitated “this is a failed kingdom” he says, "I am running out of ideas.” Tyrion looks up and says with bitterness “Father, why is it that it is only us that have to look for an answer to every damn question? Can we get more out of our citizens?”
“We can lop off their heads, but there is nothing in them,” answers irritated Tywin and walks out of the room.
In the brothel of Petyr Baelish (aka Littlefinger)
This is a place where saying "screw anything that moves" gets a completely new meaning. A distinguished gentelman moves through the establishment as naked men and women mill around, animal noises come from behind the doors and rich visuals give a sense that one is in a fantasy land of a total sexual fulfillment. One would love to linger there for a handful of gratuitous sex scenes before we move on with the story.
Eventually, we follow the gentelman outside where he, by a total coincidence, sits next to equally exhausted Tyrion. "Vannevar, senior advisor, " he introduces himself to Tyrion, the most recognizable nobility in the Seven Kingdoms.
For a while they sit in silence watching a little peasant girl across the street playing with Rubik's cube and trying to get a grip on the generators of a particular subgroup of the permutation group.
"My father thinks that Seven Kingdoms is populated by dummies and dimwits," says Tyrion to nobody in particular.
"Nonsense," answers Vannevar. "The whole world runs on ideas and they come from all sort of places,” and he points at the girl who in spite of her considerable mathematical powers has no shoes.
The Council
A large conference room in King's Landing. All Lannisters are present, Tyrion introduces Vannevar who gets up in front and begins his pitch.
"Battle of Blackwater was the greatest battle in history and there are two main factors behind our victory," he pauses briefly, "the bravery of Lord Tywin," he bows in the direction of Tywin who sits stone-faced and does not react to crude flattery, "and the Green Fire, a scientific discovery of profound military impact." Tyrion scowls as he sees his contribution being ignored again. Alas, the stakes are high and he encourages Vannevar with a smile.
"Unfortunately, today the Realm looks more like a fantasy land than a serious country," continues Vannevar stepping onto a treacherous path, "economy is stalled, education is non-existent and discovery rate falls behind the most pressing needs." "We need to shore up the Realm and we identified science and innovation as a source of considerable growth and wealth.” He takes a deep breath and plunges forward, "I propose that we create Science for the Realm foundation that will capture the best ideas of our citizens.”
He goes on for another five minutes spelling out some details: funding for the best proposals with up to two months of winter support, a season traditionally punctuated by a high attrition rate, and few other enablers for deep thinking. A network of sponsored research offices across the lands will give something to do for our otherwise unemployable citizens and it will facilitate the submissions.
"Winter support before they have done anything useful?" Cersei interrupts, "it does not make any sense!" Vannevar is ready for it, "Yes, it looks peculiar but the idea is one of encouragement. Many will not deliver and we can later strengthen the Night's Watch with them.”
"What kind of discovery are you talking about?" asks Tywin curiously. Sir Vannevar gets clearly excited by these encouraging responses and decides to lower his guard by removing his helmet and main battle weapons strapped to his body. Now his voice projects far better, "that is the beauty of it!" he exclaims, "we do not know what is not discovered yet!" and now that he is 80 pounds lighter, he jumps three feet up in the air from an uncontrollable joy of putting the Realm on the path of scientific discovery.
Science for the Realm foundation
Some months later the Science for the Realm gets off the ground and Cersei gets the reins. Her love for morning stand-up meetings, adherence to procedure and expectation for kowtowing are legendary. “We will issue some solicitations” begins Vannevar excitedly. “There will be no whoring in my foundation,” Cersei cuts in, unwilling to listen. “No whoring, my queen,” explains Vannevar, “solicitation is a technical term. It helps people to understand what they are really interested in.” “Excellent,” concludes Cersei, “in this case I do not want unsolicited proposals.” Vannevar face clouds as it dawns on him that advising trigger-happy Cersei is not going to be easy.
Transmutation and Hazard Seas
Cersei, Vannavar and the rest of the Llanisters are in a small dungeon planning the first round of solicitations. Cersei, whose real passion is chemistry, is adamant that “Transmutation is high-risk, high-payoff work.” After a brief pause she adds ominously “Risk is really someone else’s worry." Nobody dares to say anything contradictory particularly since turning junk into gold is indeed a pressing need. “Let’s hope something good comes in,” says Vannevar who would have preferred a more open-ended call. Transmutation is a scientific rubbish of the highest order, but it is the main recruitment tool for chemists.
Tywin throws in Hazard Seas, a honey-pot of empty slogans rooted in the fact that Seven Kingdoms are surrounded by water which is often treacherous. Vannevar sees a lot of winter support going towards scam-artists with dubious credentials, but “As you wish, my Lord” is all he dares to say. Tyrion as usual is brooding in the corner. He is a mathematician at heart and he finds the current environment rather hostile.
The first panel
takes place in a big room in King's Landing. Ten burly knights sit around the table at distances that ensure some personal safety. The Program Knight sits at the head of the table, and little clay tablets with names of applicants end up on "Fund" and "Do not fund" piles. He tries valiantly to control the room. "Remember conflict of interest rules; you do not review ideas from people that slayed your family members" he yells above the crowd "even in a fair fight" he adds as an afterthought. Other Program Knights visit the panel frequently to get a sense where things are going. The reviewers are fully armed and armored just in case an insurmountable difference of opinions occurs. Most have full-face helmets as well and an odd echo makes them hard to understand. "This is worse than combat" complains one of the knight-reviewers, "in the battle at least you kill your enemies." "Don't you worry, you are making a killing" cheers him up the Program Knight "we do not expect the success rate to top 15%."
Black Powder
The panel is going well until they arrive at the proposal that calls for a mixture of one part of sulfur, one part of charcoal and five parts of saltpeter and describes tubes of various diameter that use this concoction to send projectiles at great distances.
The Program Knight gets so excited that he starts frothing at the mouth, "Distance fighting? This is potentially transformative! We can win all wars with it!" Knight-reviewers cluster together like guppies in a shark tank. "We have considerable investment in the military workforce, many years of specialized training. This looks like a short lived novelty," they declare collectively.
At this point Cersei comes in to greet the panel. The Program Knight approaches excitedly, "My queen, we have a great idea on our hands," he declares. Cersei glances at him and mutters "No recent head trauma, I hope." She briefly scans the proposal's parchments. "That is the problem with rotating Program Knights," she says in a manner of explanation. "The chemistry here is quite elementary and this proposal is not responsive to the solicitation! This clearly isn't transmutation work." She makes up her mind quickly, "Send it back without review," is the final verdict as she leaves the room.
Reconsideration
In the courtyard of Casterly Rock a herald announces the results of the first funding competition. Some are overjoyed with winter support which includes a large sack of grains, others take the declination in silence, and a small group demands a reconsideration.
Citizen Harley Brown is particularly bitter. "My transmutation project on changing hog's testicles into diamonds and cow's manure into gold dust did not get a fair hearing." He shuffles around and raises hell. "I have heard that when it was discussed two knight-reviewers passed out of heat exhaustion and the Program Knight's comments is a template declination!" he roars.
Cersei looks around and rules "Reconsideration granted. Don your armor, the trial begins in a hour”.
Harley’s Brown eyes bulge out as he blabbers "armor? trial? what is going on?"
"You will confront your Program Knight with a weapon of your choice in a fight that will terminate with the first lost limb," explains the herald. "If you are in one piece at the end, you will receive your winter support" he adds helpfully.
Harley freezes in terror watching his Program Knight strapping a giant battle ax and checking the edge on a large sword emblazoned with words “PI Slayer.” “I just wanted an additional review,” he tries to explain but it is too late as reconsideration is about to begin.
Harley steps out into the field in an ill-fitting rental armor with a rusty sword in one hand and a shield resembling a garbage can cover in the other. The Program Knight easily saunters in sporting the latest weaponry available. The public watches it with amusement and is making bets which limb Harley is going to lose. “Who would have thought that science is so much fun,” one of the gawkers comments.
“I will get your left hand,” whispers the Program Knight “it is a matter of institutional pride at this point.” The tears well-up in Harley's eyes and the duel begins.
With the lightning speed the Program Knight rolls onto the ground tripping poor Harley, springs up again and raises his ax to cut off Harley's right leg. Seconds later he kneels next to him and pulls the tourniquet from a compartment in his armor to stop the bleeding. “Good effort,” he tells Harley to make him feel better. “You can stuff it up for a souvenir,” he says placing the detached leg on Harley’s chest.
In the sponsored research office
Cersei walks around a long windowless corridor with a group of distinguished visitors representing business investors.
"This is one of our sponsored research offices, " she says with some pride. "Our relationship with researchers is what is called tough love," she adds pointing at the blood-stained floor and a row of empty coffins along the wall.
They pass by a small room where a screaming individual is being fitted for the Iron Maiden. "What is going on?" one of the visitors inquires. "Overdue annual report," answers Cersei who has interest in every aspect of the operation. "Isn't Iron Maiden a one-way trip?" someone whispers with morbid curiosity. "We are not doing it for his benefit," explains Cersei, "it helps the rest of the lot to focus better.”
In spite of some unpleasantries, the reports from the field are promising. There is tremendous interest in scientific discovery in Seven Kingdoms and Llanisters' enemies are taking note too.
Stannis Baratheon bedroom, early evening
"You look tired my Lord, can I help you to relax?" croons Melisandre lounging on a large bed covered with animal furs (heads and tails included). "Yeah, I am restless, I guess I will go to the garden to shoot some chipmunks," replies Stannis absent-mindedly. "I have something better in mind," she says as she slithers closer letting her red cape fall behind. Not surprisingly she does not wear anything else. "Your codpiece is so large these days," she purrs excitedly. Stannis, clearly still thinking about obliterating chipmunks, has problems catching up with action.
Melisandre starts removing his chainmail and codpiece. Stannis is immediately interested but there is fear in his eyes. In a flash his pants are off and suddenly a large object falls from his crotch area. "I do not know what it is" is a pretty stupid response to an unspoken question. Melisandre picks it up with curiosity. "Grant proposal guide?!" she exclaims angrily. "So my magic is not good enough for you?" she hisses, "you think that this science rubbish is going to give you the power over the Realm?!" she yells. Stannis looks down totally humiliated. He puts on his pants, grabs his crossbow and soon a fusillade of shots and squeals of chipmunks are heard from outside.
Dragon flight
Daenerys gently whispers to her dragons when Jorah comes along. “What’s wrong with him?” he points at the dragon that is a bit discolored and wheezing. Daenerys hugs the dragon and speaks in baby-voice “You’ve been a bad, bad dragon, haven’t you? You ate a bad bubu this morning.” She mocks the dragon who belches loudly and tries to control some digestive problems. “He ate a peasant again” she explains to Jorah, “it is such a headache.” Meantime the other dragon tries to surreptitiously swallow something that looks very much like a human arm. “You really have to pay more attention to the PR, my queen,” Jorah utters resignedly. “I am Khaleesi, the Mother of Dragons, for fuck’s sake” replies Daenerys.
They walk along the cliff with dragons shlepping behind, too lazy to fly. “Do we have to jump on this science bandwagon?” she asks “or three dragons are enough of an edge?” Jorah, who is always skeptical of the military use of dragons, glances back. “A few proposals on dragon flight theory would not hurt. They barely get off the ground these days.” Thirty feet long stream of burning napalm shoots inches away from him and the dragon responsible for it gives him a stink eye. “I may be wrong," concedes Jorah.
First year anniversary
On the first anniversary of the Science for the Realm there is a big ceremony in King’s Landing. All principal investigators arrive together with their families, foreign dignitaries and nobility. Festivities last for days, and a few fatalities result from overindulgence.
After the first year research highlights are still pretty sparse. Many of transmutation projects are pretty outlandish, but so far there is no gold where there was none before. One a positive note,
one highlight of the Hazard Seas program turns viral and everybody is talking about it. It is a Barf Bag, a small burlap sack where sea-faring individuals can deposit their vomit without being a nuisance for the fellow passengers. Suddenly discovery and innovation is on everybody’s mind and the fate of the Science for the Realm foundation is sealed.
