Nellie and the Nanites - Bk3 - Ch.13

Chapter 13

Digging In.

“What’s wrong?” Nellie asked.

“I am confused,” Lucy said, “Which is a rare condition in an AI, as you can imagine.” 

“What’s confusing you?” Nellie ran her hand through her girlfriend’s hair and looked at the components of the I.E.S. datapad spread open on their bed.

“It is difficult to put into words,” Lucy said thoughtfully. “I am an incredibly advanced AI, capable of controlling a huge number of things simultaneously. I can operate this body while, at the same time, flying the Bly’s Revenge, controlling manufacturing processes, and performing many more tasks.”

“Agreed.” Nellie nodded.

“So why is it that I feel the need to use these hands instead of simply having the machinery in a lab take this apart?” Lucy asked, frowning in the most adorable way. 

It took Nellie a second to realize that this was the first time in their entire relationship that Lucy had ever looked honestly and completely confused. 

“Sometimes it just feels better to do things with your own hands,” Nellie offered. 

“Why?” Lucy asked. “The sensory feedback is not superior in any way.”

“It’s not about superior,” Nellie hedged, “It’s just different.”

“Nellie,” Lucy said seriously. “These hands are not even really me. I am still in your head, a little ball.”

“Are you, though?” Nellie asked. “When was the last time you actually were not actively focused on your body for a long period of time.”

“I frequently…” Lucy paused. “Hmm, it has been a while now that you mention it.”

“I think you are starting to feel at home there,” Nellie shrugged. “Look, it doesn’t matter where your processing core is; it matters where YOU are.”

“It is the same thing,” Lucy said with raised eyebrows. “I am here,” she reached out and tapped Nellie’s forehead. “Not here,” she said, tapping her own.

“You are here,” Nellie tapped her forehead. “And here,” Nellie placed her hand above her heart even if she did not actually have one anymore. “But you are also here.” 

Nellie put her hand over where Lucy’s heart would be. “This is your body now, not just a cluster of sensors and movement options.”

Lucy thought for a few moments. “Then I think I have a problem.”

“What?” Nellie asked worriedly.

“This wiring is superior to that in my body.” Lucy grumped. “I feel like my body is not as good as it should be.”

“Aww,” Nellie laughed and kissed the grumpy AI. “Baby, you got your first insecurity!”

“I did not!” Lucy snapped before laughing.

Once Lucy stopped pouting and Nellie stopped teasing, it was necessary to undertake a little ‘reassurance,’ but after that, they finally got into the details of the analysis of their haul from the I.E.S. facility. 

The actual resources were allocated to Paren and Salem for the building of defenses for the station, but they still had a bunch of consumer tech to look over, including pads, datapads, and a couple of other items.

The first of the ‘other items’ category–yes, Lucy really organized them like that— was some kind of entertainment device. The actual network it connected to was not active in this area anymore, but the tech inside was still very interesting. It shared the micro-wire technology as the pads, with the wires reduced to something the width of a hair while still being strong and surprisingly flexible. What it had that the pads did not was a complex crystalline structure that was used to display something like a holographic image but included something similar to shields. It wouldn’t make things solid, per se, but it would give a little tactile feedback. 

It would make a fantastic upgrade to the holographic displays on the ship and station, given that it would allow someone to reach in, grab, move, and manipulate things with the feel of actually touching something as opposed to the feeling being synthesized by their own implants. It also made the screens more straightforward to use for those without an implant, which opened up lots of options for them to make use of. 

Salem was already planning to use one such screen as a menu or catalog in the shops she hoped to open at the station.  

While it would be nice to find a more advanced bit of tech that they could use in a defensive capacity or even offensive, having something more consumer-focused was not a bad thing. Lucy was sure there were loads of ways to use the tech, but they hadn’t thought of it yet. 

People were people, wherever they were from, and that apparently included alien species as the other item in that category turned out to be a space-age sex toy that interacted with the nerves in the body of most creatures, inducing feelings that ranged wildly but still added up to a really fancy vibrator. 

Nellie had never been happier to have been wearing gloves when she found something. 

It only took them a few seconds to realize that the object in question also triggered hormonal changes in the body and stimulated the release of brain chemicals, depending on the situation. Given the small size of the object, the controls were surprisingly complex. 

Still, a sex toy was not the kind of thing they were looking for, but Lucy insisted the interior technology could be of use. Nellie was slightly horrified at the thoughtful way Lucy spoke about the possible uses in interrogation technology and put a stop to that train of research immediately. They also both agreed that there was absolutely no chance of allowing Paren to know of its existence. Paren was great, but no one in their right mind would give that girl access to a living being's nervous system. 

Which just left the implant, which was… gone.

“Remy, where is the implant we recovered from the facility,” Nellie called over to the bridge the moment they noticed it was missing.

“I transferred it across to Paren’s new lab, along with the rest of the materials,” Remy answered in his usual prompt and straightforward matter. “I also copied her on all of the other finds, as ordered.”

“By who?” Nellie sighed with a sinking feeling.

“Uh, I’m guessing it was not you?” Remy said. “I assumed the orders were yours.”

“Why?” Nellie asked.

“Because they had your name on them when they arrived in my cotex!” Remy protested. 

“What else did ‘I’ order you to give Paren?” Nellie asked, rubbing the bridge of her nose. 

“Several items, most of them pretty normal, but I have sent the item list and the original orders to your implant,” Remy said, almost audibly grinding his synthetic teeth.

“I see that,” Nellie said dryly as an image of a laughing Paren popped up the moment she opened the ‘orders.’ “Where is Paren at the moment?” 

“She is in her lab,” Remy replied promptly. 

“Lucy?” Nellie queried.

“The security cameras show her exiting the main bay and entering the Bly’s Rest main deck. She is carrying several additional items.” Lucy grinned. “Shall I ask security to detain her?”

“No, you find the tap into the security system with Remy,” Nellie cracked her neck. “This one I’m doing myself.”

===<<<>>>===

Paren became aware that Nellie was ahead of schedule in checking in with Remy, thanks to the pounding of boot heels on deck plates. One of her favorite things about her change into a drone was the increased senses. 

When she was working, those senses gave her the accuracy and clarity needed to move far beyond anything she could have done with her boring old brackta body.

When she wasn’t working, it gave her enough warning of pursuit to give her a fighting chance of getting to the nearest lift tube before Nellie caught her. 

Paren dropped the crates she had been carrying and leaped over them. Her new legs, having been tuned to react far faster than flesh could usually respond, blurred, making adjusting to them a nightmare. But now that she had…

The rapid clicking of the rounded tips became a relentless drumbeat as she dashed at full speed, cornering with two legs on the wall to keep her balance as she closed on the lift tube. In one movement, she slipped under a grasping hand and into the tube. 

The silver liquid shot upward, carrying her away… for about three seconds, at which point it stopped and reversed course.

“Salem! No!” Paren protested. 

“It’s not me,” Salem’s voice sounded amused. “You’re literally standing on nanites… and they only respond to two people.”

“Traitors,” Paren glared at the silver disk as it deposited her in front of Nellie, who stood with her arms crossed and a look of deep and abiding smugness on her face.

“Hello, Paren,” Nellie said with a grin. “Going somewhere?”

“I have to get to my new lab, don’t I?” Paren tried, but it was useless. The very reason she had run was that it was becoming increasingly difficult to lie to Nellie. At first, Paren had assumed it was part of the Prime Drone programming; she even had Nu-B have a look, but it was so much worse than that. 

She was finding it more difficult to lie to Nellie because she felt guilty about doing it. 

What kind of bullshit was that? 

===<<<>>>===

“Told you,” Vicky said with a grin as the man finished nailing the hand-painted sign up over the archway. “How’s it feel?”

Crush looked up at the sign and sighed.

Marshall’s Quarter

“Technically, there are four Marshalls in this colony,” Crush noted.

“Yeah, but they just mean you,” Vicky said with a smile. “And you know it.”

Crush couldn’t argue with that. He really couldn’t. 

Somehow, it was all happening again. It happened in the army, and it happened on the Fig, then on the planet, and now on some moon parsecs from anything he had ever known.

An old smuggler had once told him the trick to being invisible was not being involved. Stick to yourself, and be a face in the crowd—don’t stand out. It was great advice, and Crush somehow always failed to remember it until he was already wearing officer stripes, training a squad of soldiers, and wondering how it all happened. 

When Prit-Mal had offered him a ‘place in her administration,’ Crush almost laughed. Responsibility was not what he wanted—quite the opposite, in fact. He had been looking forward to just being one of the colonists, with no responsibilities and only doing whatever he wanted to do.

It had taken him less than a month to become a Marshall, and now people were naming an entire quarter after him.

It all boiled down to one thing: He did the job no one else would. 

Crush would have happily left the crime and the rotten apples to someone else, but no one else stepped up, so he did it. Someone needed to watch out for the little guy, the families, the kids. So he did it because no one else was.

Someone else could do the job? Great, they could have it.

The problem was no one else was even trying.

All around the new quarter, the sound of tools could be heard. A couple of dozen people were working on taking apart one of the compartments, handing off the pieces to those waiting for parts.

A pair of teams were going from compartment to compartment, the first stripping everything out and the second cleaning and polishing the place ready to be turned into actual rooms and houses. 

Maddy was leading a series of discussions about planning, which made everything run smoother than expected. The woman may not have known not to avoid sniffing plants on alien moons, but she was a demon when it came to planning a colony. 

Who would have guessed? 

Still, her real skill lay with people. She had the friendliness to make anyone smile and the frank honesty to shut down stupid ideas and arguments with ease. 

Brix had come by a couple of hours ago, bringing what supplies and help he had been able to grind out of the council, which wasn’t much. 

The whole place had gone quiet while he apologized to them all for having to move, promised he would do anything he could to help, and then proved it by hanging around and helping to move materials and swing a hammer when needed. 

The council's help had mostly been people they weren’t interested in having do anything else, so they ended up being more hindrance than help, but it did smooth feathers a little that their neighbors were helping out in some way.

So it was a surprise to see Nancy, of all people, approaching with a grav cart piled high with what looked like materials.

“You wanted supplies?” Nancy smiled down at Crush. “To help build up the, what was it? Oh,” she looked up and sneered. “The Marshall’s Quarter.”

“We certainly do,” A man nearby said. “This place isn’t exactly fit for habitation.”

“Never say I didn’t help,” Nancy said and gestured to the cart behind her. “Although, I suppose we have some compartments I happen to own that could take a few families if need be.”

“We’ll be fine, Ma’am,” The man nodded. “Thanks for the supplies.”

“My pleasure,” She nodded to her helpers, who unceremoniously tipped the grav cart onto its side, sending rusty metal, twisted wood, and moldy cloth onto the grass-covered street. “Best of luck with the Marshall.”

“We’ll be fine,” the man said, eyes blazing but voice polite. “The Marshalls have us covered.” 

Nancy scoffed and walked away, her helpers looking slightly embarrassed as they left.

“She’s a hard woman,” the man said to Crush.

“She’s a massive bitch,” Vicky added. “We’re better off without her.”

“Can we actually use any of that?” Crush asked. 

“Wood and cloth are used to make grow beds; metal is metal, even if it is rusty,” the man said with an accessing eye. “We’ll find a use.”

“Let me help,” Crush said, pushing the sleeves of his ship suit up as he bent and grabbed a large sheet of metal. We can start with nice, big doors to keep the riff-raff out.”

That got a laugh, and the three of them started to sort out the ‘supplies.’