《3G: the Glowing Green Goo》 Chapter 1 - [Error!] at the Party Like anything in the dot, the entertainment centre was a small and simple affair, but it was in an exceptionally festive mood tonight. Zax was not the type to drink, but he rarely refused an invitation from his friends. They were few enough to not be a problem. Kad was his best friend, so of course Zax would be cheering for him during the best time of his life. His smile and cheers were at least as loud as those of the gorilla¡¯s colleagues and definitely more genuine. He just couldn¡¯t help the tinge of sour bitterness, deep in his heart. I¡¯m the last one. Their old group of friends had all left the dot over the years. Useful mutations had made them more effective at their jobs, letting them catch the eye of the Shelter¡¯s higher levels and let them leave for a better life in the first circle, that dream area around their birthplace. Better life, better pay, more resources, a better future in general. The dream of all the dot¡¯s inhabitants, and one very few ever achieve. Thinking back about it, isn¡¯t it weird that so many of them succeeded? Kad and Zax were all who remained from a small group of childhood friends, and not unlike countless clueless pups before them they dreamed big. They had promised no one in particular that when they grew up, they would be like the Superxplorers they watched on the news and in the cartoons. Then life had caught up with them; they had learnt how uncontrollable and unpredictable the mutations were, then realised how rare the best ones were, and how seldom any meaningful mutation was for doters, the inhabitants of the dot. A full tail such as Aran¡¯s foxy limb was as far as it went for them. Basic, lovely, but useless. The crafty girl didn¡¯t even benefit from the enhanced balance they usually came with. Partial fur or altered ears and eyes could happen if they were lucky, giving slight protection or slightly improving the senses respectively. It didn¡¯t prevent the young woman from fully enjoying herself however, as shown by the way she kept the party going, her tail constantly wagging. ¡°OOOOH! ONE MORE!¡± Aran excitedly ordered yet another round. She really loved those games, and her enthusiasm kept even the sorest losers coming back for more. Zax smiled in amusement before going back his train of thoughts. For all intents and purposes, and with a lot of luck, maybe a gifted one from among their group could have left the dot. Yet, they had all found themselves with befitting mutations one after the other, even if just barely. It had been so gradual that none of them had noticed, but they really didn¡¯t fit within the statistics. Kad was even more of an outlier, with a very rare and spectacular mutation, so he might even reach further circles. Even in the first circle, a second pair of fully functional arms wasn¡¯t common, much less so one identical to and as strong as the first pair. Late bloomers shot the highest and all that. Then again, they didn¡¯t know much about the next levels of the Shelter, so maybe it was more common there. Still, just getting a bit closer there was something to be proud of. It was for further in the future though; the new limbs were still too small and weak, but reaching that point was basically guaranteed. Zax would know, he did the scan himself. On the house, complementary to refitting the giant¡¯s clothes. A man needs his hobby, after all. Well, he was not really surprised by what his friend¡¯s mutation ended up being, more by it happening at all. That strange malformation of the spinal nerves caught his eye from the start, years before, and he had already suspected something comparable when the arms¡¯ bones grew so¡­ laterally, for lack of a better word. Everyone thought he was crazy to suggest ¡°more arms¡± as a mutation in the betting pool, but to him, it was easy units. But to be fully honest, even expecting new limbs he would have never thought they would be so¡­ perfect. An exact copy of the innate limbs, down to the longer than natural body hair, thicker skin and worst of all the same inhuman bone and muscle density the rest of the body already sported? Even he would see it as wishful thinking. No wonder all of Kad¡¯s past mutations were so minor if they were setting up such a tremendous one. Massive if, but still. Really, the human couldn¡¯t blame the other gamblers. New body parts didn¡¯t come from duplicating another limb, they were supposed to grow from vestigial parts. His eyes scanned the partying assembly, seeing many examples. Amal was at the snacks, chewing a piece of wood because he could ingest any plant matter with actual molars where wisdom teeth should be, even raw with his functional appendix. Edy¡¯s horizontal third eyelid, a lot more opaque than a haw was supposed to be but still protecting his eyes when his friends poured their drink on his face, laughing arrogantly and maybe a bit drunkenly at his own joke until they poured his too. Zax chuckled at that. Good friends. Many had long ears too, donkey¡¯s, rabbit¡¯s, monkey¡¯s, which usually meant restored vestigial muscles, to move them consciously or fold them for protection. Hard to cover your ears when they were larger than your hands. Could I be an even more extreme case? The human shook this thought out of his head as fast as it came. Nothing welcome ever came from that line of thought. They were all very representative both of the common mutations in the dot and how the dot was considered in the Shelter: they were there, they mostly filled their functions, but they didn¡¯t make a great difference and their absence would be at most an annoyance and easy to live with, while the most useful ones were also the most subtle and the hardest to spot. The most significant mutation, beside Kad¡¯s of course, was still Aran¡¯s. Her tail was moving more slowly now, Zax could almost follow it with his eyes. A beautiful and healthy red fox tail, long enough to reach her head, moving with a feline grace. ¡°Try not to forget us when you make it big!¡± The black-haired woman giggled, standing tiptoe on the open palm held at arm¡¯s length by one of Kad¡¯s new limbs. The two-meter-tall man had his original arms crossed behind his head and showed tense gritted teeth in a very awkward attempt at nonchalance. His arm was shaking and his face twisted under the effort, but reaching that level of strength at once was a feat nobody would dare to belittle. Aran kept laughing joyfully as she lightly jumped to the ground. Even running out of juice, that small ball of sociable energy kept breathing more life in the group again, although it was clear everyone was reaching their limits, even her. Her happiness was very communicative though, she had to be- [Error!] His retinal HUD¡¯s notification interrupted his thoughts. It didn¡¯t seem important, just an incoherence between observation and expectation. At first glance it wasn¡¯t a miscalculation, so he just loosened his expectations and put the matter aside for later. ¡°So¡­ what will you do now?¡± Zax asked the four-armed star of the day as he gave him a glass of special electrolyte-rich energy drink. Not healthy at all for a normal human, but the giant drank it with a relieved sigh like fresh water, already forgetting his pretence that lifting a woman at shoulder height and arm¡¯s length with one hand was easy. ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? Get a place in the first circle of course! I already had excellent offers.¡± ¡°No, I mean, after that?¡± at his friend¡¯s confused face, he detailed. ¡°With those new limbs, you have new opportunities too. You can keep doing what you were doing before as a professional mover, or you could try something new. In our development plans, you always focused primarily on strength and secondly on coordination -pretty sure it¡¯s not a coincidence, by the way- so maybe you can try the opposite now? I bet you could do crazy wild things once you¡¯re as coordinated with four arms as you were with two. Or maybe something totally unrelated, like speed and reflexes? Or stamina and endurance? Just to see what would happen? I guess what I¡¯m trying to say is¡­ are you going to do more of the same thing in the first circle or further, or are you going to blindly throw yourself in something new?¡± ¡°The way you say it, none of those options look terrific.¡± Kad pointed out, deflating a touch. ¡°Haha, sorry. I didn¡¯t manage to think of a way to make them both appealing, so I just made them both as appalling. That choice will impact the rest of your life, I don¡¯t want to influence you with the one I would do.¡± Kad looked pensive, so Zax chomped him on the forehead. He needed to jump to reach him. ¡°NO! No pondering what I would do! Make your own choice first.¡± He ordered firmly. ¡°Yes sir.¡± The giant reluctantly agreed, before sheepishly adding, ¡°But I dunno man¡­ I didn¡¯t think that far¡­¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°Just don¡¯t forget to do it sooner than later. Your answer will let you decide what kind of offer you should look for.¡± ¡°Come on man, stop being such a killjoy!¡± Aran energetically tapped his back, staggering him. ¡°It¡¯s a great blessing. Just enjoy it! Why do you want to drag us down like that?¡± Zax briefly caught a note of aggression in the girl¡¯s expression, but it was gone so fast he wasn¡¯t sure he spotted it right. Out of sheer habit he sent a mental query to his recording anyways, but still answered without hesitation. ¡°Because I don¡¯t want that blessing to become a curse.¡± He stated in a flat voice, empty of any emotion. ¡°We always had each other¡¯s back. But you¡¯re right, now is the time to party.¡± He added with a smile, diffusing the tension in the air before it could build up. He grabbed the virtual controller and selected their next game. Coloured armbands materialised on everyone and the whole room filled with even more coloured circles, indicating each the bonus targets. ¡°Custom mod: team compositions and target will change randomly over time.¡± ¡°Wait, what?¡± Aran panicked. ¡°Oh this is gonna be great!¡± Kad smirked. Zax¡¯s mods were always interesting and challenging. This time was no exception, as less than an hour later everyone was panting, on a chair for the lucky ones, on the floor for the others. ¡°That, was, awesome!¡± someone managed to say between breathes. ¡°Didn¡¯t know, that game, could be so¡­¡± ¡°Exhausting?¡± ¡°Difficult?¡± ¡°Chaotic?¡± many voices tried to find the right description. ¡°Heh, yeah, those too.¡± The first voice gave up with a chuckle. ¡°That was a party to remember, for sure. I¡¯m beat, I think I¡¯m going to call it a day.¡± A bit later and the guests started to leave. Zax was among the last to leave, and when he did, he proposed Aran to come with him: ¡°Aran, I¡¯m going straight home, want to come with?¡± ¡°Sure!¡± Not a blink of hesitation. Kad rose an eyebrow at that, but Zax sent a knowing smirk his way, so he chose not to comment. They left the premise side by side, Zax leading the way to his place. It wasn¡¯t far so they went on foot. Not that they would have much choice anyways. After a few steps, Aran apologised for calling Zax a killjoy. He knew how to play. Zax accepted her apology, it wasn¡¯t very important. The foxy girl looked relieved to hear that. She hummed a popular song with a carefree expression as they travelled. Two blocks further, Zax started a new conversation: ¡°By the way, do you know what I do for a living?¡± ¡°Uh? Er, no, I don¡¯t think it came up.¡± Aran was a bit confused by the sudden topic but answered candidly. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°I¡¯m a handyman. One of the best of the dot, actually.¡± She looked with a pitying eye that replied ¡®Suuure you are¡¯. ¡°It¡¯s true!¡± The pure human defended himself. ¡°Anything in the dot I can fix. For far less time and units than anyone, actually. Including small machinery pieces in hard-to-reach places, clothes destroyed by a sudden mutation, and many other things.¡± Well, a few other things at least. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re the one who adjusted Kad¡¯s uniform?¡± The woman¡¯s initial rebuttal was cut short when she remembered the topic being breached earlier. The giant man¡¯s new appendages were appropriately covered despite being less than a day old, with complete additional sleeves on his old work uniform and no visible stitching. Even the best adjusters would take at least a full day to make something of such quality for such an extensive mutation, and that was if they treated it in priority. With the time constraint, they all expected a normal top with clean holes for the new arms, at best. His only explanation had been that it helped to be friend with the best omni-expert in the dot, and everyone had chuckled and left it at that. She had thought it was a private joke or something similar. ¡°His whole wardrobe, but yes.¡± ¡°Uh.¡± She was floored, but she couldn¡¯t help but believe him. It just fit too well with a few eerie points she had noticed in the evening. Such as that custom mod for their last game. She had never seen or even heard of anything analogous. Custom mods were notoriously rare for AR/VR games; too resource intensive or time consuming to make. ¡°I guess your mutations are pretty strong but mental then?¡± Her voice and smile were a lot more subdued. ¡°No, I don¡¯t have any mutations.¡± ¡°What!? How can you be that great without mental mutations? Wait, how can you not have any mutation!? They should just be very small or subtle...¡± The poor girl¡¯s whole universe was turned upside down. ¡°Nope, I¡¯m all natural. A hundred percent pure human.¡± He tried to force casualness in his voice and an easy smile, and did a very poor job at it. ¡°The why I didn¡¯t is one of the great unknowns of the 3G, it just never happened. But the how I am that great is a lot simpler than you¡¯d think, and a bit related: nanotechnology.¡± ¡°¡­¡± She wanted to say something again. Probably something about how nanotechnology -or any non-biological technology- was so obsolete they could never let someone reach high, even in the dot, but she clamped her mouth shut and waited for him to continue. Cunning, sharp and adaptative. As expected of a true fox girl. ¡°I stopped waiting for my first mutation long ago. It was just doing more harm than good at that point. But it didn¡¯t change the fact I couldn¡¯t compete with normal mutants in the market. Nobody in their right mind would hire me over them.¡± Zax shrugged helplessly. The girl nodded absentmindedly. It simply wouldn¡¯t make sense, if one has several candidates for hire, one takes the most enhanced ones. That was just common sense. ¡°Unless it¡¯s for some PR move.¡± The man added absentmindedly. ¡°But once the move is done, they are done with you. No matter that you have better results than others and are the one holding the rest of the team together.¡± The girl looked surprised at that, but didn¡¯t comment. Despite the lightness in the voice, she could feel it was a sore point. ¡°The only jobs I could keep were those with very little concurrence. I¡¯ll let you imagine what it was. The gross ones, the boring ones, the tedious ones¡­ well, the ones nobody wanted to take. One of the tedious ones happened to require working with a nanotechnological interface. So, I was taught the basics. And ended up realising that it was a lot more cost-effective on me. I didn¡¯t need to be purged every evening and injected every morning, since there was no chance of destroying the nanites with a surprise mutation, which gave me at least two hours more every workday.¡± ¡°Wait, two hours?¡± Aran broke her silence at that. ¡°A syringe or a pill in the morning, a purge in the evening. How could it be that long?¡± ¡°A common misconception.¡± Zax nodded. ¡°You¡¯re thinking of randomly injecting nanites via intramuscular injection and letting their program make them go where they need to, right?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Well, doing that actually hurts the organism. Just a teeny bit, a few cells here and there, so it¡¯s no big deal if you only do it a few times. But once a day, every day? Damages cumulate real fast, and in all the tissues on the way. And very hard to detect on time if you don¡¯t look specifically for it. Plus, random injection mean they could have to travel in the whole body before finding their designated place, or force their way through. Yeah, not pleasant at all.¡± He smirked at the girl¡¯s full body shiver and fully bristling tail. ¡°So even if you have to inject them, better do it where they will arrive fast and unhindered, which takes skill and knowhow. And the expulsion has the same problem. If you just turn them off and let the organism eliminate them, it takes time and energy, and you will be sick for several days. If you¡¯re lucky. You have to unbind from where they are and either be neutral to the organism or actively follow the most efficient natural evacuation routes. And it¡¯s not always the digestive track. And don¡¯t forget, they will have to be reused the next day.¡± The following grimace of disgust showed she understood the implications, so he didn¡¯t pursue. ¡°Anyways, safely taking and leaving nanites takes time, and even more so when they are set in sensitive organs -like the brain for an interface- so me not having to-¡± ¡°Wait.¡± Aran interrupted once more. She was really gaining back in confidence. ¡°Couldn¡¯t they just use a mutation to fix whatever damage had cumulated?¡± ¡°Did you forget the part about nobody wanting that job? In the dot?¡± Zax raised an eyebrow. ¡°It didn¡¯t exactly pay well, nobody with the 3G units to spare to heal avoidable health problems would work that job.¡± The girl was abashed, more than expected actually, lowering her eyes to the side, shoulder and tail fully dropping. ¡°Anyway, my situation was a great boon for my boss, and let me take the nanites home. A veteran of the place taught me a few tricks that would make them useful instead of just being¡­ there; like setting an alarm clock. Then I tried my hand at making simple programs, then games, one thing led to another, and before I realised, I was pretty skilled at programming them. I could make my own, and I was using them naturally even in day-to-day activities.¡± ¡°¡­ and so you became that great without mutations.¡± The girl concluded after a moment of silence, lost in thoughts and almost knocking her lowered head on the wall several times. Then a realisation made her rise her head: ¡°so that means¡­ you are an actual techno-enhanced human?¡± she asked with a nuance of awe and fear. ¡°Nope, that¡¯s still science fiction.¡± Zax chuckled at that. ¡°I tried, but no, no bodily modification for me. The only thing that can be considered an augment is that I always have a better bracelet than yours with me.¡± ¡°Oh. Then it¡¯s not possible¡± She was part relieved part disappointed. ¡°Not necessarily. But at least I can¡¯t do it, and I don¡¯t know anyone who can. Maybe I just lack that ¡®medical knowledge¡¯ or ¡®engineering¡¯ thing?¡± He shrugged. Aran tried to ponder at that, but quickly decided to firmly not and quickly changed subject: ¡°So, if that¡¯s not how you are as good as a mutant, then what?¡± ¡°Right. I use the nanites as a multi-purpose tool. They can go in basically any non-airtight place so I don¡¯t need to open hard to reach broken devices in inconvenient places, I can shape them how I need to do many things and even build durable things with them. For instance, clothes. Very convenient. If you¡¯re proficient enough.¡± ¡°You mean Kad¡¯s clothes are going to melt at his next mutation?¡± The fox actually smirked at that. ¡°Another common misconception. When the 3G activates, the disruptive field it emits only destroys active technology. Sure, nanites are vulnerable at a further range than most things, but with the right type and shaped in the correct piece, they can be deactivated and the constructs will stay, problem solved.¡± ¡°¡­ Seriously? That¡¯s it?¡± ¡°Yup!¡± ¡°Why don¡¯t everybody do it then?¡± ¡°Well, everybody has the same misconceptions you did. That doesn¡¯t help. Second, I took years to reach my level, and I didn¡¯t have to take enormous precautions to¡­ not destroy my own nanites. Anybody else would have to stay very cautious or to keep buying or making new ones. Too annoying to be worth it, and the cost really builds up. Lastly, using nanotechnology is not that easy. You need the right type of nanites, held in the most appropriate way or the construct will fail, which means knowing the properties you want, which¡­ well, let¡¯s just say there are a lot of hurdles for even the simplest operation. Most don¡¯t want to bother, and for excellent reasons.¡± ¡°That¡­ makes sense¡­¡± she muttered to herself. Zax wasn¡¯t sure she realised she whispered it aloud. ¡°There¡¯s also that nanotech is only really useful in the dot.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Everything it can do, a sufficiently advanced 3G-tek can do. Possibly better. Only here, where 3G is too scarce to spend it on 3G-tek, it can have some use. Who would spend years to seriously study something that would instantly become useless if they left the dot?¡± He had, and the implications creeped Aran out. Silence followed after that. Aran wanted to ask something as they kept walking, but she didn¡¯t dare to voice it. Her eyes kept going back to Zax¡¯s, looking for an answer, but Zax refused to meet her gaze, staring in front of him. A few minutes later, he answered, his voice low but never wavering: ¡°I told you, I stopped expecting my first mutation long ago. The dot is my home. I will never leave.¡± They kept walking silently after that. Zax¡¯s expression unreadable and Aran trying to process what she had heard. Somehow, it didn¡¯t feel like a proclamation of surrender or giving up on life. But what else could it be? That human had openly admitted he didn¡¯t even bother trying to leave the dot anymore. Not trying to mutate, to improve in the most basic way possible. Not even having the possibility. She couldn¡¯t fathom what it would be like. He seemed content with his life. What did he want then? What other goal could anyone have? Goal? ¡°Why did you tell me all that?¡± the words spewed from the girl¡¯s mouth before she realised. She was so lost in thought she hadn¡¯t noticed they had reach Zax¡¯s residential complex. The sight gave her pause and made her forget her own question. It was the standard issue for the dot: an ordered, compact and efficient pile up of identical boxes. As compact and space efficient as possible for a living space. Almost no trace of 3G-tek, but sturdy and well made enough that it seldom required repairs. The first generation really built things to last and stay. It was well known that the Shelter had started its construction at what was now called the dot, growing in concentric circles as mutations and associated 3G-tek made expanding on the planet first a possibility, then a reality, then a fact of life, even if it never became fast or easy. And that evolution was shown in the architecture and the technology as much as in the people. Just as the doters were mostly humans with a few exotic or animal traits, that building was mostly metal and stone, with some plastic here and there, and the only visible biotechnology was the basic ambience mushrooms for light and temperature control. It should make for a very boring and dull building, but the inhabitants had added small touches of individuality, a flower pot here, a child¡¯s finger-drawing opposite, an actual paint job there, all added up to make a place that really felt¡­ lived in. Alive, for a lack of better word. Being so homely was certainly uncommon, but what really caught the tailed girl¡¯s attention was the finger drawings and hand prints on several places. Many of them were small and perfectly proportioned for human children, usually next to or bellow prints with inhuman proportions, a different number of fingers, or claws, and even webs for one. A wholesome family memory. Aran shook her head to chase the thought, focusing on the important part. ¡°Are- are there children here?¡± ¡°Yes? Family units tends to?¡± The human raised an eyebrow at the question. Thinking back about their walk to this place she realised they had clearly been indicated. She had just ignored it, so distraught she was. ¡°You? You don¡¯t have a family.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question; it was a statement. A statement she knew to be true from the conversations in the evening and his life story. A basic human was not a prospective father. Even a successful one. What if their children stayed stuck too? That meant he had to pay the rent in full and unassisted. And with only his own revenue. That was impossible. Family units used a lot of space, and the dot always had a severe lack of that resource. Who lived where was always tightly managed, and the only way to have a larger living space was a severe tax that rose exponentially the more above their needs one lived. In the dot, where successful people were a rarity, for a single person to live in a couple¡¯s unit was an achievement, but to live in a family unit? Just how rich was he!? It really wasn¡¯t a question, but Zax answered anyways. ¡°No, I don¡¯t.¡± ignoring her emotional state, he went on with the situation. ¡°And about your question, well, if I straight up asked ¡®why did you insert yourself in a group of strangers and pretended you knew someone/everyone?¡¯ or ¡®why are you so afraid of going back to your home?¡¯, you would just have clamped up even more behind your mask, denied it all with a distraction, disappeared and ran away without anybody noticing. Now you can¡¯t deny it or run away, because you believe me when say I recorded everything and I can prove it.¡± Aran¡¯s heart jumped in her chest. Her tail curled tight around her back, so puffed it tripled in volume but she ignored it. She was already jumping for the exit when he finished, only to see the door she had just passed close just behind her, and nothing she did could make it bulge. She tried all the voice commands she knew, and push with all her strength, and even resorted to bang on it, but it refused to bulge. ¡°I say this just in case, but the timing of me answering and the door closing is just a coincidence. Now stop banging, you¡¯re going to wake the neighbours.¡± Zax¡¯s voice pulled her out of her panicked frenzy. She stopped moving, then slowly turned around, her lips tight but her real emotions still in full display with her tail. She definitely didn¡¯t believe him. Zax was opening the second left door before the end of the hallway. He just briefly glanced at her before entering: ¡°Nobody fancy being looked at like some kind of monster, but I still prefer when you show the real you.¡± He declared with a small smile. ¡°Now come in. If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn¡¯t have taken you to my own home unit, with all the general safety measures and potential witnesses. I¡¯ll give you a place for the night, and maybe propose something. And if you are really set on running away again, just give your bracelet a query about how doors work. Especially those with handles.¡± He went in without looking back or waiting for her answer, but the door didn¡¯t close behind him. That was scary, but the last words were confusing. Doors with handles? Aran stepped away from the door and turned around, finding that there was indeed an inset on the side of the door. A quick glance at the control panel on the side revealed it had broken long ago, the box was askew and the interface hidden behind a small plate. No wonder her voice commands didn¡¯t do anything. She hadn¡¯t noticed its state because she hadn¡¯t paid attention, but why would she? Technical maintenance was a very serious affair in the Shelter, even in the dot. The very notion of something as common as a door controller staying broken more than a few hours in a row was alien. Then how did they- Wait¡­ an errand, crazy thought crossed her mind. It was ludicrous, but she had to try. She slowly put her hand in the door insert and slightly pulled on the side. The door opened all the way without resistance, swallowed by the wall without even a creak. It had never been locked. Just to be sure, she closed and opened it again. After a few second, it closed by itself. Just as any normal door. All the tension in Aran disappeared at once. Her whole body slumped, her forehead softly banging against the door. She felt stupid now. Had she overreacted? Well, even if she had, she couldn¡¯t blame herself. She wore that mask for a reason, and those who saw through it were always bad news. She shivered just thinking about them. She had to leave now. She opened the door and took one step outside, but something stopped her. She felt she was missing something. Something important. Then it dawned on her. Her instinct. It hadn¡¯t nagged at her. And it still wasn¡¯t. It had never failed her before. What could it mean? Could it be¡­ she was safe? But that man had seen through her. Tricked her into coming here. Unmasked her without her noticing. It had been so smooth she wasn¡¯t even sure when he had done it. Long before arriving at the residence, that was for sure. And then he¡­ hadn¡¯t done anything? They had just kept walking, he invited her, then left her alone. What did that mean? She was so lost in her thoughts; she barely realised her legs turning around and moving towards the open door in the hallway, nor did she notice the slight click of the exit closing behind her. Chapter 2 - Nanites and Proposition After leaving the confused foxy girl in the hallway, Zax went to prepare some basic synthetic tea. It would be a pleasant way to calm her down if she followed, or to relax before bed if she didn¡¯t. The cluster of minuscule mushrooms that served as ceiling lights reacted to his presence by brightly glowing and he quickly set them to a lower red light to not wake his girlfriend up. Then he changed the colour back to a more neutral white, as to not alarm Aran if she came. A quick glance in the bedroom confirmed that Quinn was still asleep, but he sent a quick message to her bracelet to explain the situation, just in case. All the while he used his nanites to keep an open feed to the security cameras in the hallway, transmitting sensory data directly to his visual cortex. It required less focus than watching a screen with his own eyes and analysing the data himself. He spied the tailed mutant looking first confused by his last words, then embarrassed when realising that this door couldn¡¯t react to voice commands and had never been locked. He chuckled a bit at her brief shoulder slumping and tail deflating. Yeah, that was a bit pathetic. A surprisingly strong reaction though, I didn¡¯t push that hard, did I? Smells like a story behind it. In any case, it would help with his theory. He ignored the question and kept on watching her. She went through different emotions: confusion; then embarrassment; then resignation, a fear she quickly chased away, then back to confusion. She didn¡¯t even seem to realise when she was walking to his door, but she didn¡¯t stop when she recognised it. Zax waited for her to reach the threshold before turning to her from the kitchen¡¯s counter. She kept her eyes locked on her feet, trying not to move but fidgeting nonetheless. She was full of nervous energy. Zax kept watching her with an impassive expression, waiting for her to speak. Her fidgeting worsened until she finally relented. It didn¡¯t last long; patience was not her forte. ¡°I would like to sleep here tonight. Please.¡± A barely audible whimper, but Zax still managed to catch it. ¡°Sure, the sofa is just there.¡± Zax pointed to the other side of the living space. ¡°Do you want some tea before that? I have something I¡¯d like to discuss.¡± Aran quickly peeked at the layout of the room, noting the two closed doors in the back and right wall of the living room, the couch on the right, the kitchen and its counter on the left. Two steaming cups were already waiting on the counter. She looked back down and shyly nodded, walking to the counter separating the kitchen and the living area. Her gaze never rose even as she sat on the high stool. Zax quietly pushed the two cups, letting her choose the one she wanted. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t have snacks.¡± ¡°Hum. Er- Hm- It¡¯s alright.¡± Aran stammered, clumsily taking the cup on her right. Right-handed, Zax noticed. Talking again. Progress. They both silently sipped their cup for a while. Aran first kept her eyes down, fascinated by the waves in her cup. Quickly she couldn¡¯t help but glance around, still making every effort to avoid looking at the human in front of her. Zax used that time to examine more than her tail. On the smaller side of average height. Ordinarily pale skin, smooth but not frail. The type of sleek fitness seen in people with an active lifestyle. Normal clothes, with the simplest modification for her tail. Not custom made, the standard mass-produced issue. Lean face, high cheeks. One ornament: a yellow scrunchie in her short black hair, holding her fringe up and revealing her eyes. Deep eyes, so dark they seemed black when light wasn¡¯t directly pointed in them. One could get lost in there. Overall, a very average body for a healthy young woman. And currently hidden, the wiles to use it to blend in any group. When their cups were about to be empty, Zax motioned for more. ¡°Another?¡± He smiled reassuringly. ¡°What do you want from me!?¡± Aran burst out when he broke the silence. She even reflexively looked at him in the eyes. For about a second, but still. ¡°Do you always react that strongly when it¡¯s not about a party?¡± Aran restlessness worsened, as did the redness in her cheeks, but Zax didn¡¯t manage to get another word out of her. ¡°Fine.¡± he sighed, filling the cups and activating the relevant programs. [Business mode: Off Negotiation mods: On] With the support of his nanites, Zax observed and analysed each part of her reactions with greater precision and speed, deduced her mental and emotional state with more accuracy, and computing it with both his personal memories, his experiences, and the nanites¡¯ database, he calculated the optimal path and approach. <[Straight to the point, full honesty, no pressure, no pandering]> was the decided result. ¡°I would like your cooperation to test some of my theories about 3G induced mutations.¡± Aran raised her head in surprise at the brutal shift, even forgetting her anxiety. ¡°You would have to get measuring nanites in your body for the night. They will do an ongoing general examination in your sleep to build a template of you. Then, I will analyse that template with my theory, and we¡¯ll discuss the results. Namely, what my theory tells me about you. And you will tell me how far or close to the truth I am. There you have it. Any thoughts?¡± All was stated within a few breaths and without pause or hesitation. ¡°You- uh, er, I-, Hm¡­¡± Aran was confused, both by the sudden change of pace, how straightforward it was and how¡­ undemanding for her. Sleep with nanites, talk, then free to leave? Just that? What was the catch? <[Observation / Emotional State: Strong fluctuations.]> <[Query / Details / Emotional state. Reply: confusion (main) ¨C turmoil (medium) ¨C embarrassment (mild) ¨C fear (mild) ¨C all within expected parameters.]> <[Query / Emotional State / Doubts + Mental State / Reservations. Reply: overshadowed by confusion ¨C within expected parameters.]> So far, so good. ¡°Isn¡¯t that¡­ dangerous?¡± She hesitatingly asked. <[Analysis: Stalling for time + Trying to assert a form of control. Note: Opposing would be counter-productive. Optimal answer: Reassurance/Confirming her agency.]> Yes, but how? <[Query/Protocol. Reply: unknown.]> ¡°What? The nanites? No.¡± Zax answered without missing a beat, showing no sign of the nanites processing in tandem with his mind. ¡°It will take the whole night because we will use one of the safest methods. One that also allows a safe and immediate termination and evacuation of the nanites. Just in case you get too uncomfortable before the end.¡± ¡°I can stop?¡± Her tail perked up in surprise. She didn¡¯t expect that. ¡°Of course.¡± The human nodded. ¡°You can also refuse before it starts. I¡¯m not forcing you or anything.¡± ¡°But you said¡­ you said¡­¡± Her voice died off, not finding what she was looking for. ¡°I said: ¡°I¡¯ll give you a place for the night, and maybe propose something¡±. Verbatim. The sofa is still there, and you let me make my proposition. Now, you can decide. Take your time.¡± The girl¡¯s tail was twisting this way and that, reflecting her inner turmoil. Her mind was reeling, trying to process what she knew. He explicitly stated she could refuse. Could she risk it? She had no reason to agree, did she? The idea of nanites watching in her body made her¡­ uncomfortable. "Why me? I¡¯m nothing special. My mutation isn¡¯t special. Not useful at all either. Just good at being pretty. Like me.¡± She whispered, hugging her tail, not unlike a little girl holding her favourite plushie. Or a lifeline. [Observation (Unexpected): low self-esteem.] ¡°An average sample is more representative and always good to have, so not being special is not a reason to ignore you. Also, it¡¯s not just you; I made the same offer to many before. Some agreed, some refused.¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°This theory is just a result of one of my hobbies, it¡¯s not particularly important. And you may not realise, but I assure you, your mutation is very special. Anyway, you just happened to be in a position where I was sure I could convince you, so I tried my luck.¡± ¡°Convince me?¡± She didn¡¯t fancy how it sounded and clutched her tail tighter. She wasn¡¯t exactly inclined to cooperate right now. Wasn¡¯t he finished? ¡°Aren¡¯t you curious as to how I could see your manipulation?¡± Zax smirked knowingly. She had almost forgotten about that! How could she forget that!? That man was really dangerous Aran tensed all at once, leaning back in her chair, her tail straight and puffing once more. <[Query / Details / Emotional state. Reply: turmoil (rising) ¨C worry (rising) ¨C fear (medium) ¨C all within expected parameters. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Estimated time to apex: 5 seconds]> <[4 seconds]> But this time, her eyes were locked with his, looking for¡­ something. Captivating. The young man found it hard to tear his eyes away, although with her tail still puffing in her arms, she looked quite comical. It brought a smile out of him, but he continued without comment just before < [0 seconds.]>. He was not accurate enough to do it just at the mark: ¡°I found out thanks to my theory. If you agree with my proposal, I will explain what it told me about you.¡± Zax concluded with a more reassuring smile. Aran released the breath she hadn¡¯t realised she was holding back, then her eyes lowered, flickering right and left, weighting up the pros and cons. Now that was an incentive. She wanted to know, but at the same time she wasn¡¯t sure she wanted to know. It might help her do better manipulations. But she didn¡¯t know if she wanted that either. The idea of nanites in her body felt uncomfortable. But she could stop any time. Supposedly. He had explained how the safest methods took longer way before. Could it be in preparation to this? Tackling her doubts and reservations before she even realised them? Thinking back, the foxy girl realised he had really planned everything in advance. How long before? When they were talking on the way? Before they even left the others? The more she thought back about their previous interactions, the more her wariness made place for respect and¡­ curiosity, towards the human. He had seen through her, but he wasn¡¯t using it against her. It was as if he didn¡¯t even care. He wasn¡¯t fishing for personal information or services, he just asked to analyse her body. She started as it dawned on her. ¡°Asked¡±. Not ¡°Coerced¡±. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll do it.¡± Aran nodded resolutely. ¡°¡­ That was fast.¡± Zax blinked. He didn¡¯t expect her to make a choice that quickly. His nanites were as surprised as he, but for different reasons. <[Error! Major deviations from predictions!]> <[Error! / Details: Emotional State not following the planned path ¨C deviations exceeding acceptable margin.]> <[Visual representation]> A bar chart depicting the intensity of Aran¡¯s different emotions appeared in a corner of Zax¡¯s mind, but its live updates changed too fast for him to follow. One thing was clear however: her mind was going to weird, or at least unexpected places. Why was self-doubt so high? And curiosity too? And why was it there at all? She was supposed to be mostly reluctant and generally doubtful. Regardless, she had given her answer, so dwelling on it would be pointless now. <[Negotiations ended.]> <[Confirm?]> [Business mode: Off Negotiation mods: Off] While ordering his nanites to understand where the last errors came from, Zax took away their empty cups and put them to dry-cleaning and decontamination. ¡°¡­ You got a problem with that?¡± A bit late, Aran frowned in answer to his reply. It had been really hard for her to make that decision, so she expected a bigger reaction. She still didn¡¯t know how to feel about the situation, so she was getting defensive. ¡°No, I was just surprised. I thought you¡¯d hesitate longer.¡± It was stated factually, but it almost sounded like a compliment. Aran bit off her answer, not wanting to embarrass herself further. It was becoming an uncomfortably familiar feeling. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get to it, shall we? You can unfold the sofa while I prepare my material. There are sheets in the under-drawer.¡± Zax went passed Aran, pointing to the couch as he went to the door at the back of the living room. In other family units it would lead to at least one children bedroom, but he mostly used the room as a workshop for his personal projects. And as a spare bedroom when he had a fallout with his girlfriend. His professional workshop was better equipped, but the pieces of software were heavily restricted and tightly monitored, so he could only use it for specific operations. This workshop was a lot smaller, but more than compensated with sheer versatility and freedom. The handyman ran a diagnostic on the electronic cupboard. Different areas were separated within, each containing their own type of nanites stored in their specific optimum conditions. Satisfied with the results, he took the box containing the medical observation nanites, then went to the desk drawer to take a brand new sterile adhesive patch and a small yellow box with a large red button on top. As an afterthought, he also took the old slab laying on the desk. When he went back in the living room, he found Aran still trying to figure out what he meant with ¡°unfolding the sofa¡±. ¡°Ah, right, Sorry.¡± Zax sighed, putting his material on the ground. Aran started; she hadn¡¯t heard him coming. ¡°I forgot how uncommon those were. It¡¯s purely mechanical, the two large cushions can be moved between that sitting position and a bed position, like so.¡± Zax demonstrated, pulling the lower part up until a click was heard, blocking the frames at an angle. He then pointed at the space made accessible below them: ¡°And that¡¯s the under-drawer. Not sure of the real name, but I¡¯ll keep calling it that anyways. It¡¯s a convenient storage space.¡± He had her grab the sheets, then pulled the same frame as before up to the second click, unlocking the two of them and softly lowering them until they formed a flat surface. The memory shape cushions detected the new position and automatically merged into an almost seamless single mattress. ¡°There. Now let¡¯s make the bed.¡± He motioned for the sheets, and they installed the bedding together. ¡°Why do you have that foldable bed-couch¡­ sofa? That doesn¡¯t seem to be the standard issue for family units.¡± Aran asked, curiosity getting her newly loosened tongue to ask. ¡°Not that long ago, they were the standard issue in single people units, but they are only being replaced with the new standard when they are broken. They are still rather common in many neighbourhoods, and I bought this one when it was due to recycling a few years ago. I wanted to see if I could repair it with my nanos. Turned out I could.¡± He concluded with a proud smile. ¡°Then I just didn¡¯t throw it away, it didn¡¯t cost anything to keep it and it can still be useful.¡± Once they were done preparing the bed, Zax made Aran sit on it and grabbed his materials back. Then was the time to give her the nanites. ¡°Take your top off please.¡± Aran obeyed without arguing. With mutations being as they were, not always compatible with clothing and something to show off as much as possible, nudity had stopped being a taboo even before the first circle was built. Civility had found other ways to be annoying. Zax first cleaned the upper part of her modest breasts with alcohol taken from the medicine cabinet, then applied the adhesive patch as close to her heart as he could make it, constantly explaining what he was doing aloud: ¡°I clean the area to avoid impurities interfering with the nanites. Wouldn¡¯t want to mistake them for a part of your body. That patch is a standard bioactive medical dressing: it suffuses its components in your body to help fix the most common issues.¡± ¡°A normal band-aid?¡± ¡°Close. It¡¯s bigger so it can help more and with more issues. I will use it as a transmission vector for the nanites. Lay down please.¡± He asked, softly pushing her shoulder to the bed. ¡°What does that mean?¡± She asked even as she complied. ¡°Basically, the patch has a natural way in your body, and the nanites will piggyback on it to get in as well.¡± The human activated the slab, launched a basic program and gave it to Aran: ¡°It is synchronised with the nanites interface. It will not let you interact with them, but you can at least follow the orders I give and their answers. It shouldn¡¯t mean much if you are not familiar with nanotechnology, but maybe you can pick up something or it¡¯ll interest you?¡± She seemed sceptical, but she still took it out of courtesy. Zax put the nanites box on the woman¡¯s chest, centring a cross mark in the bottom on the patch. He then put his hand on the handle build in the side to give his orders through his own nanite¡¯s interface, its content also displayed on Aran¡¯s slab: [(1) Zax-Box detected: ¡°Medical Nanites¡± Confirm connection?] [Connection complete] Standard Method 01-003: direct absorption via medical patch.> A few lights activated on top of the box as the only external reaction, but Zax felt the connection being established with the box and its contents.
condensation in model 001b (balls) Then: Outside Host Body / Immediate stop -> evacuation / fastest access -> condensation in model 001b (balls).> Years of hard work, to be able to finish that program in a few simple lines. Zax felt a bit nostalgic when he thought about how long it had taken just to define what ¡°Host Body¡± meant. Thinking back, maybe his notion of ¡°a few simple lines¡± was not as universal as he thought. ¡°That should do it. You can stop the process at any time by pushing on that button.¡± He put the yellow case in her free hand. ¡°I¡¯m going to start now. Are you ready?¡± Aran was still looking at the slab, but she put it down and curtly nodded. ¡°Go on.¡± ¡°Infusion Start.¡± He also commanded aloud. Aran closed her eyes, waiting for something to happen. After several seconds, she risked one eye open. ¡°Do you feel something?¡± Zax queried, watching her reaction both through nanites and naked eye. ¡°Er, no? Is that normal?¡± She untensed a bit, opening both eyes. ¡°Perfectly normal. It¡¯s the opposite that would have been troubling. The infusion is almost done, just stay put a bit longer.¡± While Aran kept trying to unpuff her tail to pass time, Zax kept watching the progress of the nanites. The needle in the middle of the cross mark had already pierced the plastic layer of the patch, allowing the nanites to spread through the hydrogel bellow until it was homogenously mixed. The nanites then followed the chemicals in the gel as they diffused in their host¡¯s body through the skin, feeding information to the box¡¯s data storage and being constantly replaced by the nanites in the box to maintain a fixed concentration in the patch, as a buffer in case of emergency. Some nanites spread in the organism and started doing their observations, but most bound together to form a one-way tunnel under the entry point, through which the nanites flowed to make it grow, going around blood vessels and nerves until it reached the host¡¯s heart, where it fixated itself on the main artery. From there, the remaining nanites went between the blood vessel¡¯s cells and directly accessed the blood flow to the rest of the organism. The whole dose was infused and spread in seconds after that, including the part used as buffer in the adhesive patch and making the access tunnel. Not a mark was left anywhere in the body. All along, Zax kept being fed all kind of data, checking live if the nanites behaved as intended, chasing any imperfections and fixing them before they could lead to damages, and guiding the tunnel¡¯s growth to not waste time. [Infusion complete] ¡°There. All done.¡± Zax took the box away from her chest and delicately removed the patch. It was darker than earlier, showing it was spent. More raw material for later. ¡°What? Already? But it didn¡¯t take a minute.¡± The patient was surprised by the smoothness of the operation, which was always good. ¡°63 seconds and some.¡± Zax detailed after consulting the logs. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ more than a minute, but still very fast. Didn¡¯t you say it would take the whole night?¡± Worry was twisting her face. ¡°The scan will take the whole night. Getting the nanites safely in your body is quite fast and easy even with the safe methods, it¡¯s when they have to do something it can be dangerous.¡± When it didn¡¯t assuage her fears, Zax elaborated a little. ¡°The danger comes from the nanites interacting with your body and potentially damaging cells in ways that aren¡¯t always detectable in time, even by the organism. Those were medical nanites, so the body will ignore them. The only interaction possible is what the nanites will initiate. The goal is to watch everything, which means going everywhere and gaining access to everything, and doing so safely means without touching anything. So, they will use your body¡¯s natural pathways, and that¡¯s what takes time.¡± The tailed girl nodded in understanding; her stress partly assuaged. Zax locked the box with the remaining medical nanites and put it under the low table in the middle of the room, close enough to ensure a clear connection with the active nanites. Aran was patting her own chest and moving her body around, trying to find anything abnormal and finding nothing. ¡°What now?¡± Aran asked when she was done and Zax was done putting everything away. ¡°Now, time to sleep. It¡¯s late, I¡¯m tired, and I still have to work tomorrow. Try to sleep as well, I need to have the data of you at rest for more accuracy.¡± After awkward but courteous pleasantries, Zax left Aran to his sofa and went to his bed. He didn¡¯t turn the lights on, he just took his clothes off and slid under the sheets on his side of the bed. He was already tired, and the comforting presence of his girlfriend lulled him even more to sleep. He put her hand in his and was out is seconds. Chapter 3 - Results and Curiosity [Beep-beep!] [Beep-beep!] ¡°Hrmf¡­¡± [Beep-bee-] The stimulation of his auditory system wasn¡¯t required, but Zax still found it a comforting way to ground himself when his nanites woke him up in the morning. Quinn¡¯s shift at her job started before his, so it wasn¡¯t a surprise he found himself alone in his bed. She left a cute message for him too, on his bracelet so he wouldn¡¯t miss the notification in his sleep. She did that from time to time, sweet nothings that made him smile throughout the day. The content of this message was as adorable as the others, so where did that ominous feeling come from? Zax quickly put that thought away and set off for the day. Putting his clothes from the party in the laundry, a quick wash of his body in the cupboard-sized water unit and it was time for breakfast. He was surprised to see Aran already up and eating, or rather by what she was eating. ¡°Pill tea solution, uh? I see you¡¯ve befriended Quinn.¡± She jumped at his voice, almost spilling her bowl. She slowly turned towards him, her face like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. What¡¯s a cookie, anyway? The foxy girl forced herself to swallow what was in her mouth, then asked: ¡°That¡¯s the real name? I heard of it but I thought it was just a silly rumour.¡± ¡°More like an urban legend, but yes, it¡¯s real. A solution of synthetic tea, nutritive complements and meal pills, prepared in the most cost-efficient and time-efficient way to get the most of all nutriments and give some taste. Too bad most additive flavours destroy or neutralise the effect, or it¡¯d be perfect.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t realise it was that complex.¡± Aran¡¯s eyebrows rose, a note of reverence in her voice as she stared at her bowl. ¡°She is full of surprises.¡± Zax proudly smiled. ¡°I don¡¯t know where she got that from, says it¡¯s an old family recipe but some of her best ones use very recent pills. Girl likes her secrets, so I don¡¯t pry.¡± The human added with a shrug. ¡°She doesn¡¯t just cook for anybody you know? She must¡¯ve appreciated you.¡± A small smile graced Aran¡¯s lip. ¡°I liked her too. I was surprised when she went out of your bedroom, I thought you had changed gender.¡± Zax couldn¡¯t hold back a huge laugher. ¡°Don¡¯t mock me! I had no idea someone else lived here.¡± Aran slammed the table. ¡°So that means,¡± Zax managed between breathes, ¡°the idea that I- don¡¯t live alone- in a family unit- is more alien- than the idea that I, who never mutated, suddenly changed gender?¡± As incredible as the 3G¡¯s mutations could be, and despite how common private parts enhancements were, gender alterations were a very rare occurrence, and a full gender change almost a legend. A full gender change in a single activation sounded like the plot of a deep and philosophical movie. Or a shallow cash grab, depending on the budget and targeted audience. Realising any answer would just bury her further, Aran wisely elected to not add anything and went back to drinking her solution. ¡°Anyway, she definitely saw right through your mask.¡± Aran almost chocked on her meal in shock. ¡°What!?¡± she almost shouted when her cough had passed. ¡°She¡¯s extremely good at reading people.¡± Zax explained as he served himself a bowl of pill solution. ¡°Even more than you, but she uses it differently. If you had offended her, she would probably have torn that mask off and make you choke on it.¡± ¡°I-, she-, what?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not exaggerating, I saw it happen. She made a big strong grown man collapse in tears in a few words targeting his insecurities. Well, he was a more extreme case, but you get my point.¡± The cunning girl realised the implications and a shiver sprouted on her back. The meal continued in silence, although Aran only came back to it after Zax started, her heart racing as much as her thoughts. Zax didn¡¯t care for such tension, so he tried to defuse the tension: ¡°So, what did the two of you talk about?¡± ¡°¡­ how the two of us met, how the both of you met, how I ended up here, what I hope for the scan, our jobs¡­¡± The question made Aran feel uncomfortable, but she answered nonetheless. It just seemed safer somehow, and it wasn¡¯t some important secret or anything. He could just ask his girlfriend later. So much for defusing the tension then. ¡°¡­ I see. It seems she saw the same thing I did -probably better- and tried to help in her own way.¡± ¡°What? What do you mean?¡± ¡°You mentioned talking about your jobs. What¡¯s yours?¡± ¡°Er, temporary domestic aide.¡± She was confused by the non-sequitur but answered truthfully. She didn¡¯t think he was the type to ask without reason. ¡°And hers?¡± ¡°She¡¯s, er, hm¡­ Uh.¡± It just dawned on her; she didn¡¯t know much about that other woman. She reviewed their conversation and realised what Zax meant before. She thought she had controlled the flow of the conversation, but from the very beginning, she had been the one dancing on Quinn¡¯s tune. She had talked a lot about herself, but the pink eyed woman skilfully twisted the conversation or diverted her attention every time it was her turn. Closing a door just as it was her turn to talk about herself, just loud enough to miss the question and let her guide the conversation back to Aran. A well-placed timer alarm interrupting her own explanation before she said anything relevant. And many other examples. All done so smoothly and naturally she hadn¡¯t noticed. ¡°See? She even showed you some of her tricks, to help you be better at... your thing.¡± ¡°Uh? She let me see on purpose?¡± Seeing the trouble in her eyes, Zax decided to not add anything. He simply nodded and let her process her thoughts. Aran didn¡¯t know what to think, or feel. She knew she should be afraid and intimidated, but she just couldn¡¯t get to it. Instead, a very different feeling rose in her. Such skill, such control, such¡­ mastery. Over the timing. Over the conversation in general. Over herself. Over the details. So natural. So invisible. So¡­ Inescapable. It made her realise that all those she had met in the past, the ones who could only use those skills to hurt, were nothing more than children, trying to be the loudest and not realising how silly they looked to adults. But now Aran had met a grown up, one who had helped her without judgement, and she couldn¡¯t help but feel¡­ Admirative. She had found a respectable role model, nay, an idol. Zax couldn¡¯t tell what was going on in her head, but by the time he finished breakfast, his guest looked better than he had ever seen her. Lighter, he would say. Checking on his HUD¡¯s clock, he asked her how long she could stay before she had to leave. A query on her bracelet told them she was free all morning. More than enough time to conclude their deal. Aran went back to the sofa, already back in couch form, while Zax took the box back from under the table. The indicator light was till fine so he synchronised his nanites with the box. [(1) Zax-Box detected: ¡°Medical Nanites¡± Confirm connection?] The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. [Connection complete] [Status: Active doses:
  • 1 (100%) / Infused (100%)
Inactive doses:
  • 2 (100%) / Standing by
  • 1 (48%)
Damaged doses:
  • 1 (Error)]
Right, need to fix that one. Later. < Command / (1) Active doses / Self-diagnostic (fast). > [Self-diagnostic (fast) start.] [Self-diagnostic (fast) complete. All systems fully operational.] ¡°Good. It seems everything went fine. Let¡¯s see the results now.¡± < Access / Archives > Zax accessed the copy of the nanites¡¯ archive in the box and took a look inside. He briefly browsed through the whole before frowning. Aran was glaring at the slab, as if staring hard enough would let her understand what it was showing. ¡°Hm. Bad night?¡± The nanite expert interrogated, looking at the results more thoroughly. ¡°Hm? Er, not really? I was nervous at the start, but I still fell asleep pretty quickly.¡± ¡°Agitated? Bad dreams?¡± ¡°No, a normal night sleep.¡± she was getting worried now. ¡°Why? Is something wrong?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I feared. The idea of infusing and scanning you asleep was to put the nanites in place relatively quickly and to make a template of you at rest.¡± ¡°Oh, yes, you mentioned something like that yesterday.¡± ¡°From what I see, even a good and restful night has you turning and tossing round and round. You never really rested.¡± He explained with an annoyed voice. ¡°Is that a problem?¡± She was more awkward than worried now. It seemed to really be how she usually slept. ¡°You¡¯re fine. It just means the nanites took too long to reach their position, so your data won¡¯t be as accurate as expected. And they would need a lot more time to build the template too, since you are never low energy¡± He sighed. ¡°We can¡¯t do anything about it?¡± She was a bit perplexed, unable to tell if it was a complement or a reproach. ¡°Only ways would be for you to actually have a low energy state, to keep the nanites long enough to build a template closer to reality, or to do the opposite. Not practical at all.¡± ¡°The opposite?¡± ¡°Working you to your limits. And preferably record how you rest and recuperate after that. It would give me the most accurate data, but it is also very hard to execute well. Takes a lot of effort from you and time in general.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s do it!¡± Aran exclaimed. ¡°¡­ What?¡± ¡°Quinn helped me a lot, so I want to repay the favour!¡± She looked exited now, her tail twisting elegantly behind her. ¡°That much? I mean, shouldn¡¯t you do something for her then? We¡¯re not the same person, you know, and she doesn¡¯t really care about that. She never let me scan her.¡± ¡°Er, I mean¡­¡± The remark flustered her. She realised how flimsy her excuse was, so she decided to take a page from the couple¡¯s book. She gathered her courage and launched herself: ¡°I¡¯m curious about the both of you and I want to spend more time with you!¡± she almost shouted. It wasn¡¯t what she wanted to answer, but she realised as she said it that it was true. Her heart was beating furiously and her face was so heated she felt about to vaporise. It really wasn¡¯t like her to talk that way; had her mind been any less chaotic, she would have realised how shocked she was at her own boldness. ¡°Wow.¡± Zax was speechless, almost as shocked as her. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could talk so openly about yourself.¡± His girlfriend must have gone quite far in her psyche to have her take such a leap of faith. Or maybe he had just underestimated the foxy girl. She basically oozed awkwardness and discomfort, so Zax threw her a bone and didn¡¯t let her squirm very long. ¡°I am very flattered; I am sure you don¡¯t do that often. Alright, let¡¯s do that.¡± Aran perked up; her tail dressed straight. ¡°For the scan, I mentioned three options: let the scan continue to slowly build a true template. It could take weeks or months, but you wouldn¡¯t have anything special to do. Just live your life normally, and we¡¯d meet up regularly so I can check on the nanites in your body and take their records.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d like to keep nanites in me for so long.¡± ¡°Not surprising, and the longer it takes the more likely you are to mutate. I¡¯d rather not lose a full dose of nanites that way, they take time and resources to make. The second option is to try to get you to really rest. I honestly don¡¯t know how to do that. You are naturally high energy, and changing might built a template of not who you are, if you catch my drift.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t I just take sleeping pills?¡± ¡°No can do.¡± Zax shook his head. ¡°Your organism would fight it off, and it would totally upset and invalidate the scan result.¡± ¡°What if-¡± ¡°And I say this just in case,¡± He curtly cut her off, ¡°but knocking you out is not an option either. Whether it is from a hit on the head, choking you or anything else you can think off, not only would it be impossible to do it safely, but your body would have a variety of adverse reactions that would also make the whole endeavour useless.¡± Aran was speechless, but she couldn¡¯t tell if it was because he knew what she was about to say or how vehement his reaction was. She could smell a story behind it, a story her instinct warned she didn¡¯t want to pry into. ¡°So, the third option?¡± she added timidly. ¡°I¡¯ll work you to the bone, physically and mentally. Strength exercises, logic puzzles, endurance run, flexibility, that kind of thing, until you reached your limits.¡± ¡°That¡­ doesn¡¯t seem that bad?¡± ¡°Ever been so sore you felt as if your body hated you and wanted to make you pay? Ever thought so hard and so long your head felt like a hammer factory?¡± A demure silence answered him. ¡°Didn¡¯t think so. Let me assure you, if it¡¯s not that bad, it¡¯s worse. But it would let us finish the scan the fastest and give very accurate results, purposefully building one part of the model after the other.¡± Aran looked perplexed by the explanation, but the human didn¡¯t dwell on it. ¡°From some other running theories, it would also increase the risk of activating your next mutation. Though if you really never pushed yourself that far, your limits should be low enough to be reached quickly. So anyway!¡± He clapped his hands to snap her out of her confusion. ¡°What do you prefer?¡± ¡°Er, hm¡­¡± ¡°Fair enough. Let¡¯s come back to it later. Now, about my theory. I¡¯d rather have the template done before explaining it, to analyse your reactions live and in detail, but we agreed I would tell you this morning. It will influence your behaviour and could affect the model before the base is done, which would give a bigger margin of error. So, what do you prefer? Now or later?¡± ¡°Er, I mean, I kinda¡­ forgot about that.¡± Her face reddened and she looked down. Wasn¡¯t it what tipped you into accepting? ¡°Huh. Well, take your time. For both questions.¡± Zax led her through the bedroom and to the water unit. ¡°In the meantime, here¡¯s a change of clothes, the laundry¡¯s here and the water unit in there. I¡¯ll start working on the longer-term scan program, so you can take your time, but I have to leave for work in half an hour, so don¡¯t take that long please. You¡¯re better than last night, but I¡¯m not ready to leave you alone in my home unit just yet.¡± The trickster girl was once again shocked at how straightforward the human could be, but she couldn¡¯t really object to his words. She nodded and went to shower and change. An effective shower could take less than one minute with the right settings, but most people still enjoyed that time as relaxation. The water unit was purposefully made too small to sit or lay down, but the automated water jets knew where to aim, with the optimum angle and power to give many types of massages. She could exchange her clothes with her hosts¡¯ without worry, as the dot only had two type of day clothes: adult and children, mass produced and with a fixed amount available at all time. Automated distributors were placed at strategic points in the dot and would give one free per person per half-year. They were metallic blue, very resistant, unisex, and literally one size fits all. The only difference between them was that the adult version was more resistant, while the children version was easier to recycle and would be easy to tear from the inside in case of mutation of the wearer. The adult version kept that last feature, but only in the tail hole of the pants, that had to be pried open the first time, but closed invisibly when the tail left it. On the other hand, many customisations were available; dyes and stencils were very cheap, rustlings and decorations easy to put on and off, but the more extensive ones like making them less body tight for furs, making holes for spikes without damaging the fabric or making them more resistant to chaffing against scales required special equipment and knowhow. Adjusters always had something to do, and that was just one of Zax¡¯s workshop services. The standard clothes were called the doter¡¯s uniform as a joke, but for all its negative connotations, the name fit. Humans with small mutations, wearing clothes with small distinctions, living in compact identical units; it made the dot a way more homogeneous display than the rest of the Shelter. And still representative of the Shelter as a whole, as any distinction was a result of the involved people¡¯s effort, and something the system in place didn¡¯t care about as long as function and role were not affected. Zax was still working on his program, arms sweeping and fingers batting away at an invisible interface, when his guest came back, clean and refreshed. She hadn¡¯t decided though, so he proposed something else. ¡°What do you mean ¡®a bit of all three¡¯?¡± ¡°You keep the nanites until your template is done, and we¡¯ll work progressively to actively build it one part after another, with plenty of rest in between.¡± He detailed his plan. ¡°The results will also help the computer estimate the missing parts more accurately so we might not have to reach all your limits, and if you somehow have a restful night before we¡¯re done the template will just be completed that way. The nanites are already in place to your body, so it wouldn¡¯t even have to be full night of actual rest.¡± Aran frowned at the reminder of intrusion in her body, but didn¡¯t react further than that. ¡°The total duration would be in between the two options, with possibility of being suddenly done, and the effort from your part will be slightly more, but sporadic and only when you feel like it. But the more effort you put, the shorter it will be.¡± ¡°Works for me.¡± His patient acquiesced. ¡°What do we start with?¡± ¡°For now, I have to go to work. It¡¯s almost time. Give me your info.¡± A quick tap of each other¡¯s bracelet and they had each other¡¯s contact information. ¡°I¡¯m synchronising your bracelet and the nanites, so you can expel them without having to carry that big red button.¡± ¡°So you made an app called ¡°Big Red Button¡±?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the one.¡± ¡°Why not something like ¡°emergency expulsion¡± or ¡°nanite purge¡±?¡± ¡°Your bracelet doesn¡¯t have the right software to properly interact with them, so it won¡¯t show you the readings¡± Zax averted an embarrassing answer by ignoring the question. ¡°And¡­ you don¡¯t have enough room to install it? How come?¡± He lifted his eyes from his own bracelet, querying. Aran wasn¡¯t ready to share that just yet, so she swerved the question with one of her own: ¡°Can¡¯t I just take the slab? It works just fine for that.¡± Zax wasn¡¯t blind to her obvious trick either, but he didn¡¯t insist. Mutual courtesy and all that: ¡°As you wish. But if something happens to it, you will have to pay it back.¡± ¡°¡­ that¡¯s fair.¡± The girl¡¯s tail paused minutely, her shoulders slumping, but both quickly went back to their excited restlessness. ¡°Alright, give it to me. There. I added the emergency stop app and connected it to your bracelet so you can use it better. Just use the normal commands. There should be some old games left, you can play if you want. Let¡¯s go now, or I will be late.¡± Chapter 4 - Work and Games Somehow, I feel like I should have expected that. Zax mused about the current development. Namely, the humming girl walking beside him. Her not going back to her home was expected, but following him wasn¡¯t. Sure, she had expressed curiosity about him earlier, but he thought she would appreciate the distance to think about the situation in a more controlled environment. Maybe talk to someone about it; keeping nanites in their body for undetermined period would unease most people. Unless she doesn¡¯t have anyone to talk to? It seemed too sensitive to ask, but he felt confident in his conclusion. And slightly miserable, but it fit with his nanites¡¯ data on human behaviour and his theory about mutations. He wanted to initiate a conversation, but he couldn¡¯t figure out where to start. Fortunately, Aran had way better social skills. ¡°Say, Zax, Can I ask you something?¡± ¡°Of course. You can even do it again if you want.¡± ¡°Ha, nice one.¡± Her tone showed how untrue that was, but she still smiled a hint. ¡°I wondered, why do you have a bracelet? You told me you constantly had a better one in you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a mix between compatibility and social acceptance.¡± The nanite expert had already been asked that question many times, so he didn¡¯t have to think about the answer. ¡°The memory and computing power of my nanites are far superior to a standard bracelet¡¯s, but any of their software would have to be extensively modified to be used by nano-technology. The basic principles and components are just too different. Some would even have to be made from the ground up, which poses a whole slew of other issues, like bug fixes and any updates. And when interacting with other people, they tended to be¡­ uneased, when I used a bracelet¡¯s function without bracelet.¡± ¡°Meh, how bad can it be?¡± His tailer shrugged. ¡°The bracelets are so integrated in our daily lives we don¡¯t even notice, but they are used in every aspect of every day. Remember when we exchanged contact information? We tapped out bracelets, without thinking about it.¡± ¡°Yes¡­?¡± ¡°Now; what would you feel if I didn¡¯t with a tiny tap with any part of my body?¡± He illustrated with a flick of his finger at an imaginary nose. ¡°Creepy.¡± She grimaced. ¡°Like my bracelet obeyed you or something. But I know about your nanites, so it wouldn¡¯t be that surprising.¡± She showed off the Zax-box in her hands. She was to keep it around but she didn¡¯t have a handbag and it was too big for pockets. ¡°I¡¯m not going to explain to the whole dot that I have nanites in my body, that would just be endless annoyance.¡± ¡°I¡­ guess it would.¡± ¡°The bracelet is also a safety. If I buy something and leave the shop, but the security or the owner don¡¯t see me use my bracelet, or do anything to show I paid for what I took, what do you think would happen?¡± ¡°Yeah, not a good idea.¡± Aran winced at the thought. ¡°Oh? You have experience with the enforcers?¡± ¡°Ye-What?¡± Her tail started to bristle, but his smirk told her she had just leaped straight into his trap. A playful trap. How new. Not that unpleasant either. She forced herself not to take it seriously but as the innocent banter it was intended as. ¡°Oh, shut up.¡± She playfully shoved him without breaking their strides. ¡°Haha. Last point, the bracelet is not inconvenient at all. There is no point in wasting my nanites to reproduce its functions just so I can¡­ not have to wear it. There is such a thing as too much nanites in your body, and while I am not that exactly close, I don¡¯t like wasting.¡± ¡°A true doter to the core.¡± The tailed girl approved aloud. The conversation paused as they joined the crowd boarding the light road. Zax quickly spotted the right colour and put both feet inside the yellow disc. A small yellow square lump grew from it, lengthening into a rectangle and pulling the human¡¯s compatible shoes along the magnetic road. Aran grabbed his hips and put her feet on just the right parts of the starting point just as he started to levitate, forcing it to adjust and pull the both of them along the path. Zax threw her an unamused glare over his shoulder, but didn¡¯t try to stop her. The road took some training to use safely, but he could balance a passenger as long as they didn¡¯t move too much. This one just smiled innocently as if it was natural. At least she knew better than to use that as an excuse to hug him tight, but he couldn¡¯t tell whether it was respect for him or fear of his girlfriend. They moved fast to his destination, snaking between the residential area and the entertainment area, then a longer but faster part along the large and straight main road connecting the core of the Shelter to the one access point to the first circle, then straight to the Supply and Service area. ¡°Can I do that too?¡± Aran continued the conversation, raising her voice to be heard over the wind of their speed. ¡°Do what?¡± ¡°Use my body as a bracelet? Since I have your nanites in me for now?¡± ¡°Haha no, no way.¡± The human found the idea hilarious. ¡°Rmm. Why not?¡± The foxy girls insisted, exaggeratedly puffing her lips. ¡°You don¡¯t have the right type. Yours can only scan your body, then store and transmit the data. Even if I changed the program, they would not be able to interact with anything. Except the box, that was specially made for that.¡± Said box was currently stuck under the stowaway¡¯s shirt, the elastic cloth pulled tight against it and ensuring it wouldn¡¯t be lost. ¡°What? How come?¡± ¡°If I put a software for a military laser in your bracelet, would it become a weapon?¡± ¡°Of course not, there is nothing to produce a laser and I¡¯m not even sure the battery can produce enough energy for that.¡± ¡°I can assure you it doesn¡¯t. It¡¯s part of the technical specifications.¡± ¡°Well, can¡¯t you just give me the right type?¡± ¡°I could sell you the right types of nanites, their installation and their configuration, but that brings us to the second point: everyone¡¯s brain is different, so a proper mental interface must be tailor made. Something simple like an on/off command can take a few minutes to hours to calibrate, depending on the person and a few things, but a more complex command like up/down/right/left would take four times that ¨C yes four, not two- and I¡¯ll let you imagine how long it would take for something like ¡°transmit that specific amount of unit to that specific account, yes to the security checks, and tell me when you¡¯re done or if there is a problem¡±. No, it¡¯s way more than that. And all that is just the calibration so the nanites can recognize you are giving an order. Making them understand that order, then act on it are a whole other matter, but that one mostly depends on the programmer¡¯s skill. Although that part should be easier, since it¡¯s mostly building a buffer between your personal interface and the standard material. There are bases to work from.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Aran frowned but kept going: ¡°So it IS possible.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see any option where it would be worth the price, time and effort, but yes, it is possible. And just to be thorough, I¡¯ll add that it would all have to be done again at your next mutation, no matter how small it is, and that if you deactivate the nanites too long, we¡¯d have to rebuilt the interface from scratch. Brain cells don¡¯t reproduce, but brain chemistry keeps renewing itself all your life.¡± ¡°Because ¡°It takes only three days to be a different person¡± or something like that?¡± Aran joked. ¡°Actually, yes, it is exactly that reason. Which reminds me, can I get your medical record?¡± ¡°What? Why?¡± They were leaving the road by now, the adaptive magnetic rail softly putting them down on a yellow circle. From full disc to empty circle. That redundant children motto came to him, it happened from time to time when he used the road. He shook the though away as he answered, in a more measured voice: ¡°They should have enough data to build a draft of your body¡¯s template. Or part of it, at least. Past injuries, growth and weight curves, vaccines and medications, and so on. That would give the nanites a theoretical foundation to build on. I don¡¯t know how much time it would earn us, but it would definitely help.¡± ¡°I¡¯d¡­ rather not. Sorry.¡± Her serious tone and fleeing eyes told him there was very unpleasant reason for that, so he just dropped the topic. ¡°As you wish, but the proposition still stands if you change your mind. Now, I don¡¯t know what you wanted by following me but I arrived.¡± Zax stopped walking and pointed to the door in front of them. ¡°I just wanted to see you at work.¡± Aran smiled innocently, looking around. They both knew she was definitely not that innocent, but Zax didn¡¯t see the harm in getting her in. He didn¡¯t put his sensitive material there. ¡°I don¡¯t mind you going in, but you can¡¯t go in the backroom so you won¡¯t see much, and even if there is always something to do, there is not a lot of action, so you¡¯ll just be bored.¡± With that said, he entered and she followed beyond the nondescript door amid the other nondescript doors in the street-sized corridor. The central computer automatically guided any potential customer to the most appropriate place, accounting for customer¡¯s needs, distance, budget, and so on. Advertisements and brand awareness were a thing of the past, but it did make the different shops and suppliers hard to distinguish and remember. The shop itself was an ordinary selling workshop unit stuck between two shops and under a specialised workshop. It was compact, bulky, worn from use, but perfectly clean and very sturdy. like most of the dot, it was made to withstand anything for a long time. The inside was more recent, the only original parts being the walls, having outlasted both the last inhabitant and their furniture. Zax¡¯s workshop was a standard affair too, although the specific combination of goods and services he offered would raise a few eyebrows. There was a front area with common products for sale; mostly clothes accessories, games and their consoles. Mostly VR/AR, Aran noticed. A counter sat at the back with a till for payment and personal commands such as special clothing adjustment, game mods, and all kind of repairs. Literally, all kind. Aran was reminded of their discussion last night, was there really nothing he couldn¡¯t fix? After brief presentation of the place to Aran and suggestion to see if she wanted to buy something, Zax left her for the backroom. The back area was where Zax¡¯s eccentricity was more obvious. The main clothes altering machines were there, but offline and stashed in a corner in a way that made them impossible to use. The nanite expert never had, the only reason he kept them was because it was a legal requirement to be officially recognized as a clothes adjuster. Which was the only way to have the central computer send him customers, and that itself was the only way to have any business for the clothes altering part of his shop. It was the most common orders he had, so it was best to. The rest of the space was filled with workstations for nanotechnology, some of which Zax had to make with spare parts taken from other machines or even from scratch. Some were made for nanite production, others for their programming, some for their storage. Most people would be able to recognise only a few of those, namely the ones less commonly associated with nanotechnology, like the sanitation field, preventing any unwanted particles or micro-organism to get in unwanted places during production. The most unexpected feature though, were the potted plants around the window. Work places were not supposed to have such frivolities, space was too precious for that. In truth, Zax used them as backup storage for all types of nanites and programs, though mostly for the replicating types. If a mutation occurred too near to his workplace, the disrupting field wouldn¡¯t penetrate the living beings and he wouldn¡¯t have to rebuild everything from scratch. He already had to, and he didn¡¯t fancy the experience. And as a bonus, it made the place more pleasant to be in. All in all, it was the same as his home¡¯s workshop, with larger machines for larger scale of work, but less plants and less freedom of action. Not a bad tradeoff in Zax¡¯s opinion. He started his routine: checking on the plants¡¯ health, checking for new orders and progress on the old ones, preparing his tools, then getting to the actual work. < Workday start. > [Work type?] < Precision Repairs. > [Repairer mode: On Interface: Precision mode Tool mods: Ready] Nothing too fancy today, starting with the last batch of seismic recorders to repair kept him busy around two hours, the long-term order for the sensitive devices finally reaching its end; then one headache inducing VR set requiring some calibration, and a few easy orders that didn¡¯t require his specific touch. Those were mostly holographic projectors and portable extension for bracelets memory storage. Ah, right. The school cycle is nearing its end. ¡­ that¡¯s where this troubling feeling was coming from, isn¡¯t it? The workday went by smoothly, only interrupted a few times by calls to the front shop. A few withdrawals, some urgent new orders, one of them even bought a few accessories on the way. Marketing was not totally dead. It was a full day of intense work for a single non-mutated human with his skills, as measured by the central computer, but he was done well before midday. Which meant he was free to dispose of the rest of the day. It was basically a daily occurrence for him, but the central computer never increased his basic workload. He was already at the limit of what a human should be able to accomplish in a day without nanotechnology, and for some unfathomable reason the powers that be refused to recognise his proficiency in nanotechnology as a meaningful factor. ¡®It would set a harmful precedent¡¯ the official answers stated. Politics. I rue the day I understand how it works. The central computer was not able to go against their directives, but at least he was free to use his free time to increase his revenue in other ways and his personal space for venues they wouldn¡¯t approve of. Within legal reason, of course. But today, he had other priorities. Back in his front shop, he found Aran playing one of his AR games with a demo console put for that purpose. She had already been there the last time Zax had come out front. The tailed girl didn¡¯t react to his approach, so he just observed her a bit, connecting to the Z-box she had put down nearby. The game was simple, chasing the coloured spots appearing around her hands to get points. Bonus if she touched several in one movement, bonus if she touched several with a single finger, penalty if she touched her own body. Difficulty increased over time. The spots stayed less long, appeared closer to the skin, further apart from each other, they could be smaller, with less flashy colours. With more recent updates, the type of difficulty could be controlled, and optional challenges were added, making it fit for many small mutations and all ages. The gamer was really pushing herself in the game, focusing all her attention to figure out where the next spots would appear and the most effective way to the next points, trying not to block her own way. It was always pleasant to see the results of his efforts. ¡°Finally!¡± Her exultant shout pulled him from his thoughts; the muted ¡®stage clear¡¯ animation filling the game space. ¡°I see you¡¯ve kept yourself busy.¡± ¡°Gyah!¡± The human chuckled at her jump. ¡°Quick Hand, uh? Good choice, it¡¯s very popular.¡± ¡°Thanks. But this one is- different from- the past versions. Where¡¯d you get it? Be careful, you know how- serious they are- about copyright.¡± She was talking between pants, but her smile showed how much fun she had. ¡°Ah, right, I haven¡¯t sent the update yet.¡± < Command: send / games updates / all / public domain. > [Command Execution in progress¡­] [Command Executed.] ¡°There, now they¡¯ll match. Anyway, I¡¯m done with work for now, I just have to stay in the shop until midday.¡± ¡°Cool. What did you plan?¡± Aran felt they were overlooking something relevant, but she couldn¡¯t put her finger on it. ¡°I have a few things to do later, so I¡¯ll spend most of the day outside. For now, I thought we could work on your template. I never had to force build one before, so I¡¯m not sure how to start, but you gave me an idea. Since you enjoy games so much, I¡¯ll make one whose goal is to make as accurate a template as possible.¡± Zax explained his idea. ¡°What? How would that even work?¡± She was understandably confused. ¡°Stat Finder: if you were a game character, what would your stats be? Come and find out!¡± He exclaimed with his best announcer voice, which was not saying much. ¡°And you already have a lot of points in eye-hand coordination. Not so much in perception though.¡± He added that last part as an afterthought, reading from the ongoing scan. ¡°I¡¯m in!¡± That sounded exiting. ¡°Haha, glad to hear that, but calm down, girl. I barely started and I¡¯ll need time to finish.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s not waste it then! Go on. Go on.¡± ¡°Haha, okay, okay. I still have to leave around midday though.¡± Chapter 5 - Hidden Farewell When Aran had to leave for her own job, Zax was thoroughly impressed by her sheer grit. After the eye-hand coordination game came the memory game, and she had only changed when it was undeniable that exhaustion negatively impacted her score. Zax was almost certain she would have gone that far at Memory-Melody too, if her job hadn¡¯t pulled her away. It also had the unexpected effect of pushing some people to buy those games; her good mood really was communicative, and maybe her determination had inspired some too. By midday, Zax¡¯s sales had reached the level of an active day despite the low season, and he was pleased by the current development of Stat Maker. He copied his current progress in a smaller Zax-box made for a single dose of nanites, synchronised with Aran¡¯s nanites in order to replace the larger one currently in use that blocked several doses. It would fit in a standard detachable pocket and let him bring the excess doses back home. The human didn¡¯t miss the tailed girl¡¯s awkwardness when she mentioned her job, and he felt cheap for ignoring it, but he had a more important matter to settle first. He took what he would need for the afternoon¡¯s orders, then a quick stop-over home to put the box away, and more importantly to gather his girlfriend¡¯s belongings. He didn¡¯t have any big luggage, but he didn¡¯t need to for she had few personal possessions. He hid a quick message only she would understand at a place she would most likely be the first to see, and he was on the way to the education area. Today was the last day of school, so she would get out earlier than usual, just after the last of her charges left the premise. Zax thought he would arrive quickly, but he had underestimated the flow of parents and children on the light road. The computer adjusted each user¡¯s path to let them cross each other safely and overtake the slower ones, but the usable surface was fixed, and with the massive opposing flux it had no other choice but to slow him down. It was still the fastest option, so he didn¡¯t leave and hoped he would arrive on time at school. He didn¡¯t. ¡°Oh, hello Zax; Sorry, Quinn left just a few minutes ago with two friends.¡± The elderly and snouted caretaker stated when he noticed him at the entrance. ¡°Friends? Anyone you knew?¡± ¡°Err, now that you mention it, no, I didn¡¯t recognize anyone. Uh, and here I was, thinking I knew all her friends.¡± That was all the confirmation the box needed. That caretaker¡¯s snout was very sensitive to smells, and his olfactive memory as peerless. Zax wasn¡¯t even sure it was part of the mutation, but if he didn¡¯t recognize someone it meant they had never left their smell even just on someone he had met. It had made him the damnation of Zax¡¯s group when they studied there. He knew where you had been and what you had done in a few sniffs. It also meant that whoever his girlfriend had left with, they never had any direct contact with any member of the school since at least before he was a student. Including parents, students and teachers. ¡°You do.¡± The human stated factually. ¡°Do you know where they went?¡± ¡°Not really,¡± the elderly shrugged. ¡°I think they went with the rest of the crowd.¡± ¡°Thanks, goodbye!¡± Zax was already running back before the old man finished his answer. ¡°Ah, to be young again.¡± The old caretaker chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°Nice. How did you find us?¡± Quinn asked when he joined her group. Her words might seem cold but her tone was appreciative. She didn¡¯t seem surprised, just curious. And maybe fondly exasperated too. A great contrast with the two men next to her, who were still shocked speechless from the random man without obvious mutations who had stopped their march out of nowhere and was currently ignoring them. ¡°I tried to catch you at the school, but M. Oldman said I barely missed you, and that you left with a few friends he never met before. I went to a light road disk and looked in the history for groups of at least three without children, but for a strange reason there was one group I could not get the data about. Something about a clearance level or something. It was clearly a bad prank, so I just reported the problem to the maintenance, and even if they fixed it in less than a second, most of the data were too hazy to be read and it will take days to fix the damages.¡± ¡°Damages?¡± The pink eyed woman rose her eyebrows at that, briefly glancing at the smallest of the pair that accompanied her. The one who just started fidgeting and oozing awkwardness. ¡°Yeah, a very bad and awkward prank. Clearly amateur work, probably someone who found a hacking bot or software and thought it was enough to be a big shot. Whoever they are, I hope for them they didn¡¯t plan on making a career in programming. No amount of mutation and enhancement can compensate for a sloppy mindset.¡± Zax shook his head. ¡°I mean, seriously? A clearance code for one of the most open and public webs ever? What was it, their first time on an actual network? Anyway, I could still read parts of the programmed path. It carefully avoided the Arya Family¡¯s main hideouts, so I looked at the Kogito family¡¯s. That kinda limited the possibilities of where your end point would be; one was closed for renovation and one is a place you wouldn¡¯t be caught dead in. Then it was just a matter of going to the last one and looking for the prettiest face in the crowd. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Nice hair by the way, but I hope you didn¡¯t use those aggressive products. You know what they do to the scalp.¡± ¡°No, don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s just a wig.¡± The new brunette causally lowered her head down to the side to show him better, but he knew her enough to see it was a way to steer the conversation and hide her expression. He liked to think it was red cheeks and a smile on slightly trembling lips at his not-so-subtle complement. ¡°A wig?¡± the in love boyfriend rose an eyebrow, sceptical. She hated those, too uncomfortable and itchy. ¡°It can¡¯t be helped, pink hair is an obvious distinctive trait; we can¡¯t have that when trying to sneak around, but I need to keep them so I could be recognised.¡± ¡°If they need that to recognise on of their own, it¡¯s not a great place to be.¡± The human stated plainly. ¡°That would explain why you never mentioned them even in passing though.¡± That stab at their dear family broke the stupor of the two statues. ¡°How dare you insult the family!?¡± They were surprisingly in synch. Down to their mannerisms, Zax noted. ¡°How do you know where the Arya and the Kogito¡¯s hideouts are?¡± The pink eyed woman shut them off with the more relevant question they should have asked first, even if she already knew the answer. The human held back a smirk as belated realisation crossed the two men¡¯s faces. They had just confirmed their allegiance. ¡°It¡¯s common knowledge.¡± He shrugged it off. ¡°Wha-!¡± ¡°What do you mean by ¡®common knowledge¡¯?¡± The shorter man interrupted the angry comment of his wider friend with a more serious question, putting a hand on his torso to stop him from rushing forward. ¡°Er, that it is common knowledge? Like, something everybody knows? Asking any random person in the street would give similar and accurate answers? Because of how wide spread this information is? Not a secret? Making it very common? Like common knowledge? Sorry, am I overcomplicating things?¡± The last question was oriented toward Quinn, as he felt like he was missing something. ¡°It was a weird question, but not really important.¡± She masterfully took the conversation in stride and put it back in the rails. ¡°Wha-¡± ¡°Are you going to tell us why you are here?¡± She ignored the overwhelmed pair of clowns that accompanied her and kept the conversation going. ¡°Ah, right.¡± He gave her one of his bags. ¡°You forgot a few things. I couldn¡¯t bring everything, but I wanted to give them back and¡­ that¡¯s it.¡± He was doing great playing it casual so far, but he couldn¡¯t help a bit of emotion from slipping in his voice and eyes in the end. It lasted less than a second, but of course Quinn wouldn¡¯t miss it. Just as the lie in the last words. ¡°Thank you. I am glad you did.¡± She took the luggage and nodded softly. That was all the answer he needed. To any watcher, that conversation would look like an ordinary chat, but for the involved people it went deeper than that. The two add-ons knew this conversation was not supposed to happen, but the two actually involved people understood what had been left unsaid. By finding and coming to her, Zax demonstrated that he expected her sudden and unannounced departure, he wasn¡¯t surprised by her hidden connections and other secrets, and he didn¡¯t resent her for either. He understood she had her reasons, he respected and trusted her enough to not push further. Just as he didn¡¯t insist when she refused to talk about her mutation. By staying so casual when he found them and not pretending she didn¡¯t know him, Quinn confirmed she didn¡¯t leave because of something he did, but also that neither of them could do anything about it. By keeping her wannabe bodyguards in check, Quinn showed she was in a position of authority, which came with responsibilities she couldn¡¯t shirk on. The itchy wig confirmed she took her duties seriously. By giving her belongings back, he stated his acceptance and support of her decision, even if he didn¡¯t want it one bit. Like she, he would cut their ties and wouldn¡¯t try to contact her again. He could have arranged for all her possessions to find her, but he chose to keep a few as memento, his way of saying he would never forget her and would cherish the time they spent together. By accepting the luggage, she reciprocated his feelings and promised not to forget him either. Their time together had been most pleasant, but it had to end now. By not introducing himself to the unknown pair and not asking for their names, Zax had made it clear how little he cared about them. By not even calling them by names, Quinn confirmed they were utterly irrelevant. It surprised Zax, he thought they were old acquaintances at least or old friends at most, he took it in stride. Zax wasn¡¯t sure why Quinn had not mentioned his name either, but he had a hunch it was either to help in their separation, or to make it harder for her side to come to him later. Probably both, if experience was anything to go by. Their relation had a lot of those unsaid statements. One would even say it was the very basis of their relationship, how it started, how it grew and now, how it was finishing. It took a certain level of mutual trust and self-confidence, and perhaps a type of insanity to make it work, but against all odds, they did. Or they had, until her past caught up with her. The human was ready to take his leave, but his former girlfriend stopped him: ¡°I hope you appreciate my parting gift. It should have been in your living room when you woke up this morning.¡± The pale girl added with a smirk. ¡°I knew you had something to do with it. What was the great idea?¡± He hid his fond amusement behind a mask of resignation and the deep sigh of someone who was, again, being used for her entertainment. From the way the irrelevant pair tensed after looking at each other, then unconsciously drew back as they looked at their charge, it was the right decision. Re-establishing her authority. ¡°A long-term replacement. Very long term, if you play your cards right.¡± Zax didn¡¯t understand that one as easily, but still quickly puzzled together that Aran was meant to replace her. But unlike her, the fox tailed girl wouldn¡¯t have to leave anytime soon. He didn¡¯t know what to think of that. The pink haired and pink eyed woman he had spent almost a year with was unique and irreplaceable, but he trusted her judgement. The contradiction paralysed his thought process, so he reverted to a flat, objective and mechanical statement: ¡°My theories might throw a spanner in the works.¡± I might activate her mutation. She wouldn¡¯t be able stay no matter what you did. ¡°But I appreciate it regardless.¡± He added when his brain unlocked. Nothing implied here, he just stated what he meant. A simple ¡°Farewell.¡± Later and they were parting ways. For the very last time. Zax wanted to turn and look back on her departing figure, but if she really was an important figure among one of the main families that controlled the higher levels of the Shelter, it would only mean trouble to her and frustration for him. He could only hold back and try not to get in the way. Like he always did. Chapter 6 - Trance and Resolution Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon happened without surprises. Zax spent the following hours keeping his mind busy with work. Building and replacing a faulty part of a digging machine¡¯s laser, then using the agreed discount to buy recycled or recyclable materials and components from the grateful miners. Diagnosing the healing pods in a healing joint, one by one. Unfortunately, he was not allowed to fix the devices, only to point what was wrong with them. Foolish decision, the pods were just as vulnerable to 3G activation without nanites, and an activation would be more dangerous for the machine than the patient anyways. The handyman was so focused on his job, he cleared his schedule a lot earlier than planned; which was not as enjoyable as it should have been. Being alone with his thoughts was the last thing he wanted at the moment. Not willing to go back home just yet, he opted to simply wander around. He launched random applications on his nanites as he ambled, allowing the flow of data running throughout his brain to affect where his feet led him, thinking as little as he could, until he landed in front of a library. Eh, why not? Not finding anything better to do, he went in this offshoot of the Shelter¡¯s biggest database to reserve a booth and connect to the public network. Most simply used their bracelet to do so, but the special nanites in Zax¡¯s brain let him connect directly with it, allowing for a way faster connection and a better interface. It let him process more data and give a wider range of commands. He was not sure he was supposed to use it with a public network, but he had never been called out about it. The most common reason to connect to the public network was to access any available information on any subject in the Shelter. Information took a while to pass through the borders between Circles, so news of the outside was always outdated, but it was generally a reliable source of common and specific knowledge. The human didn¡¯t really care about the news anyways, it never involved the dot, and he was not in the mood for aimless browsing. No, today he wanted to use a less explored feature of the connection: using the main computer to supplement his own processing power. It was made to support the more common personal computers, sending complex calculations and receiving a faster, more accurate result than they would get by themselves, although delayed by the queue of other¡¯s calculation. That feature was not very used lately, so there was no queue to speak of and the nanite expert could directly send and receive one calculation and computation after the other at the speed of thought. He was not using the computer to increase his own mental abilities; he was just outsourcing some of the processing to the computer. His nanite¡¯s interface normally translated his mental commands in something the computer could follow and reciprocally, but on two earlier sessions it went differently. The exchange of information was so fast and so smooth, the human felt as if he communicated with the computer with his will. Not through mental commands, but directly with his thoughts. It was impossible of course; everyone knew that biology and electronics were not compatible on such a level. At first, Zax thought this¡­ merging was just an illusion from the excessive flow of information, him simply ignoring or forgetting his own commands, but neither his logs nor the computer¡¯s showed any input or output during that time period. And yet, the results were there, undeniably above his level, but matching his style. His handwriting, so to speak. He never managed to do it on purpose and didn¡¯t find any record of something similar happening. He did ask to a few so-called experts, but none of them took him seriously, and those who did, he didn¡¯t. This day, at his lowest point since a long time, it was the third time, and like the others Zax only realised it when he went back to himself, and even then, it was only because of his progress in the development of the template builder, the RPG stat maker. It was simply too huge for a single session. Far away ideas he had barely considered were fully implemented, adapted or rejected. He even found notes on different paths of development and potential divergent uses he had only briefly thought about and deliberately not written anywhere. This third time was also the longest and the one with the most effect, but he didn¡¯t feel any backlash, even as the connection was cut. The first time had resulted in a mild headache and brief vertigo, the second time in a splitting headache and emptying his belly on the floor. This time? If anything, he felt better than before. Lighter, in a way, as if a weigh had been lifted from his shoulders. Not knowing what to think of it all, he decided not to and moved on to something else. He had stopped because night was coming and the library was closing, so he could not postpose going back home much longer. That¡¯s when he realised, the idea of home didn¡¯t feel as uncomfortable as before. The human hadn¡¯t realised it, but those hours of deep connection had also helped him process his former lover¡¯s departure. Not fully, but he still felt better than forcefully keeping his mind busy should have made him. Quantum computation is no joke. Not even advanced cerebral mutations could have such an effect. Quite the opposite, emotions tended to be enhanced in tandem with the intellectual improvement as to not change the mutant¡¯s personality. ¡°Computer, where is Aran?¡± Zax asked his bracelet. Even if he didn¡¯t particularly want to stall anymore, he still had a very updated version of his application to give. The game enthusiast was in the entertainment centre. Zax was not particularly surprised, he already had a hunch about her home situation. It was closer than his workshop, so he went there first. It was lucky in a way, unlike the education area, the entertainment area stayed opened until way later after the lights has turned to night mode. There was no party this time, but Aran was still playing social butterfly, moving from one group to the other and striking various conversations. The human observed her bounce around until she spotted him. Then, she looked like a deer in the headlights, her eyes widening as he stepped closer. ¡°Hey. Having fun, are we?¡± Zax started the conversation. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? You look all pale suddenly.¡± ¡°How¡­ what are you doing here?¡± the tailed girl ignored the question to ask her own. ¡°I came for you, what else? I like games, but I don¡¯t come here that often.¡± ¡°How¡­ did you find me?¡± Aran whimpered, so low Zax barely heard. She was even more afraid than in his hallway during the previous night. It was not fear anymore, it was straight up terror. ¡°Did you forget you gave me your contact info?¡± Zax replied the obvious. He was not in the mood to play with her this time. ¡°Wha-, what?¡± Her tail reduced slightly; confusion clearly written on her face. ¡°Uh. I didn¡¯t expect a gamer like you to be one of those.¡± Zax sighed, taking his bracelet out. ¡°Those what?¡± ¡°Remember what I said this morning? About the bracelets being so ubiquitous we don¡¯t notice them even as we use them?¡± A small nod answered him. ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t expect you to be one of those people that never played with them, poked around the options and settings or tried to see exactly what they could do. Like, look.¡± The human toggled the public mode of his bracelet¡¯s holographic display, allowing everyone to see it, and manually went to his personal contact information in front of her. ¡°This is what a personal information page is like. And here, that globe and arrow icon is the sign for localisation. It shows the settings for who can access your position, with options for who can or not, special circumstances to allow or forbid specific people, or tell them automatically when you reach specific places, and so on.¡± Zax pointed the different options as he mentioned them. They were clearly denoted, and a short descriptive pop-up window was just a touch away. ¡°By default, it is set to ¡®mutual contacts only¡¯, meaning you can get the localisation of anyone in your contact list who also has your contact info and vice-versa. Baring specific settings on either side.¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ that simple?¡± Aran muttered, incredulous, barely more audible than before. ¡°Of course. What did you think? Fine. Never mind then.¡± He put the matter aside when she looked away and kept silent. ¡°Anyway, I came here to update your template maker. The box, please.¡± He held his hand forward. ¡°What? Oh, the new game. That was fast.¡± The tailed girl perked up and took the box from her pocket. No trace of her previous tension was left. ¡°Yeah, I got an unexpected help. Made it improve by bounds and leaps. Shouldn¡¯t take too long, but let¡¯s find a place to sit.¡± Aran led him to a mid-size room in the back of the main arcade room. Inside was a lot easier on the senses, with a distinct lack of anything to do; no games, no screens, no food. Instead, the room was full of comfortable chairs, armchairs and couches, some gathered around a few tables. ¡°Interesting place. I never knew there was something like that in the entertainment centre.¡± ¡°Entertainment centres are required to have a space like this one to let clients unwind or rest their senses. The arcade room can be a bit much for some. Ah, but small off-shots can be exempted, they don¡¯t have enough customers to justify the cost.¡± Aran revealed. ¡°This is one of the nicer ones.¡± ¡°I knew you spend a lot of time in the entertainment centre, but there are times even you would rather sit than play?¡± Zax innocently asked as he put his bags down and prepared his material. ¡°Not really, but sometimes I get a bit too excited when I play so the staff makes me come here to take a break. What do I do? With the update, I mean.¡± Aran asked. ¡°The staff is only allowed to stop paying customers from playing if they cause trouble or have health issues, and they just bring them to the food area or bar when they do¡­ you are not a paying customer at all, are you?¡± the human realised belatedly. Consistent with analysis, but still not enough for conclusive evidence. ¡°Maybe not.¡± At least she had the decency to look sheepish. ¡°Heh. Do whatever you want, just stay in range.¡± ¡°What range?¡± ¡°Ah, right, sorry. Er, roughly five meters around the box. The nanites would still work beyond that, but their measurements wouldn¡¯t be sent and saved.¡± The update took a bit longer than expected, but each piece was added and fitted without complications. Then, as he was double checking the results, Zax found a surprise. A surprise he immediately forgot when he spotted Aran playing with her bracelet¡¯s functions. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°If you want a complex setting, you can describe it with the vocal function and the computer will interpret it for you. Be sure to check the results though, it still tends to take things too literally, especially for the more complex or unusual queries.¡± He explained. ¡°It¡¯s awesome! I¡¯ve had a bracelet for so long, but I never knew it had so many functions. I feel like I could spend all day every day exploring it and still not know everything it can do.¡± ¡°An accurate description. If you want to know if it can or can¡¯t do something specific, you can always ask it. It will never lie, which can be very frustrating at times.¡± The human nodded. ¡°Frustrating?¡± ¡°When it tells you a certain function is locked, or currently unavailable, but refuses to tell you why, or how to unlock it, or when it will be available again, if ever.¡± ¡°That happens? Wait, forget it. Are you done with the update?¡± The gamer girl decided to move on to the main topic. ¡°Yes, but I¡¯d like to confirm something first. What did you do today?¡± ¡°Why? Is there a problem?¡± She looked worried. ¡°Not really, but I tried to apply the saved data from today in the new version. So that what you did today would not be wasted, you know? And the results are¡­ surprising. You must have done a lot.¡± ¡°Er, not really? I just did my job normally, then I came here directly an hour ago.¡± ¡°If it is not too personal, what is your job?¡± ¡°Home helper.¡± ¡°Er, what? What is that? Some kind of construction worker?¡± Confused Zax was confused. ¡°I help those who can¡¯t take care of their home or themselves, or I do it for them. Cleaning the house, groceries, walking them out, giving them their medicines, that kind of things. Usually old or wounded people who live alone.¡± ¡°Housekeeping?¡± ¡°No.¡± the girl shook her head. ¡°The goal is to keep them and their homes healthy. Cleaning is just a means, and not always needed. Sometimes they need company more than anything else. And I am not assigned to a single house, I circle between a few, with irregular ones in between sometimes.¡± ¡°Cleaner-Nurse?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have any medical knowledge; I just follow prescriptions. But yeah, close enough.¡± A shaken head and a shrug followed his proposition. ¡°I see. I didn¡¯t know there was a special job for that. And how is it, physically and mentally? Exhausting? Tedious? Fast-paced? Boring? Exiting? Repetitive? Dangerous?¡± ¡°Cleaning can be tiring, and it can be¡­ very disheartening, when the day¡¯s customer has not been taken care of for a while, or when there are angry bitter old people with a chip on their shoulders, or when¡­ the medicines are just palliatives¡­ but most of the time it¡¯s just¡­ normal.¡± A lot of anguish leaked in her tone near the end, but it was all washed out in a shrug immediately afterwards. ¡°And today?¡± Zax pressed on. ¡°Today? Somewhat chill, actually. Normal cleaning duties, no one was particularly unpleasant, the last one even let me play some of her games. She was good. Like, really good.¡± ¡°What game?¡± ¡°Dungeon Maker.¡± The foxy girl replied with an unusually large smile. The fun she had had was unmissable. Don¡¯t tell me¡­ ¡°The VR where players build their own dungeon for others to clear? I remember it was very popular because it let the player and maker choose how realistic it was, and design everything down to atomic scale if the maker felt like it, but it didn¡¯t take off for some reason. I couldn¡¯t find a legal copy so I never tried it.¡± ¡°Yeah, the game automatically prevented contradictory rules, but didn¡¯t really explain which other rules were a problem, which is, you know, fair enough, it can be very subtle, but it stopped most people from enjoying the interesting parts. And what was left was just too classic and not worth the hefty price. But in expert hands, it can be awesome. With your custom mods at the party, I¡¯m sure you would a great one!¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take your word for it. You didn¡¯t do anything specific to complete your template then?¡± The human went back to the topic. ¡°Er, no. I tried, but I couldn¡¯t do that and my tasks at the same time.¡± She fidgeted. Yep, there it is. ¡°Weird, I would think cleaning would be an easy way to push yourself, physically at least. Anyway, take a look at you res... your score.¡± Note: (Aran) is even more receptive to gaming terms than I thought. Sees life as a game? Unconsciously, maybe? [Archived] Aran made an exited squeal as she all but lunged at her bracelet, pulling out the application Zax had added in the morning. She did it smoothly, like she had done it a thousand times already. The icon was still the same, but a brand-new welcome page appeared, with settings to see which parts of her had already been quantified, with temporary numbers to do so, which parts were partly done and by how much, and which were still missing, all divided in required or bonus columns. Each part had propositions and examples on how to fill them and even an option to add your own propositions, with games, activities and common training regimen for body and mind. There were no stats yet, but the quantified parts were gathered in thematic groups, hinting at actual interconnected stats in the future. ¡°Neat. No score but an achievement list, uh?¡± ¡°Yes. I didn¡¯t know how to attribute points. To an action or a result? How much for what? It would make players focus on their natural gifts and neglect the rest, which would beat the point. And if the game somehow reached a wide public, it could lead to bullying and inferiority complex in some, and narcissism and complacency in others.¡± Points could work if he modified the goal to focus on self-improvement, beating your own score or maybe friendly contests, but as it was it would do more harm than good. ¡°Yeah, I can see it.¡± She winced. ¡°You planned on selling it?¡± She added when she caught on the rest of the explanation, still browsing the game¡¯s settings. ¡°Not really, the nanites would make it both suspicious and too expensive. I am just used to taking that into consideration.¡± The programmer shrugged. ¡°Although there are always a few rich eccentrics who want the ludicrously expensive hard to get options just because or to show off.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve gotten quite far. I didn¡¯t think it would be that easy.¡± Zax would have missed the forceful shift in subject if the foxy girl¡¯s tail wasn¡¯t so revealing. Note to self: rich eccentrics are a sensitive subject. [Archived] That wasn¡¯t part of the command, but never mind. ¡°That¡¯s what I meant. It¡¯s not supposed to be that easy. I would even say it is impossible to reach that far in one day of ordinary work, no matter how active you were.¡± Zax glared at the holographic projection of an anatomical mannequin at Aran¡¯s image as if it had stolen his shop¡¯s stock. Many parts were still missing, but she was still easy to recognize. Aran kept changing the display mode, she had already picked a few favourites ways to show how complete the model was; a blue-to-red gradient, an increasing realism and a homunculus, a construct whose more quantified body parts grew larger than the others. This one was also Zax¡¯s personal favourite. It started as a ridiculously malformed version of the player, then grew into the real deal as the model was completed. Some had been surprisingly easy to make too, using pre-existing medical teaching software as a basis. ¡°The only explanations I can think of are that your body doesn¡¯t fit within the formulas and algorithms¡¯ domain of function, or that my formulas and algorithms are plain wrong from the start.¡± ¡°That¡¯s possible?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± The human nodded. ¡°We are treading new ground here; mistakes are to be expected. It would be strange that fatal mistakes would only manifest now though. I will keep on checking the measurement and calculations over time, so we will see eventually. It would be frustrating and annoying, but less than staying stuck for no reason.¡± An awkward silence filled the room after that, Aran not knowing what to think and Zax lost in his thoughts. Fortunately, the awkwardness didn¡¯t last long. ¡°So, what now?¡± ¡°Hm? We will meet regularly so I can give updates and get the new data. I¡¯ll keep you up to date with my findings as I go.¡± ¡°Er, Zax? Are you¡­ alright?¡± Aran asked out of the blue. ¡°Of course. Why?¡± Zax was confused. ¡°I don¡¯t know, you just seem, I don¡¯t know¡­ off¡­? Since earlier. Did¡­ something happen today?¡± She was fidgeting as she explained, her tail hugging her body, markedly ill at ease but voicing her concern nonetheless. The man¡¯s first reaction was to brush it off, but Quinn¡¯s last words held him back. That foxy manipulator was someone he could, and maybe even should trust. ¡°¡­ Quinn left the dot. For good.¡± The human stated. ¡°What!? How? Why? What happened?¡± Her eyebrows shot high on her forehead. ¡°We both knew she was not an ordinary girl and she had her secrets. Her past just caught up with her.¡± Zax shrugged sadly. Aran kept opening and closing her mouth. She didn¡¯t know what to say, but her eyes displayed her confusion and need for more explanation. Zax wasn¡¯t sure of what he could share, but he relented. ¡°I don¡¯t know the details, but she knew it was coming and she definitely prepared for it. I caught on her hints fast enough to get her before she left, and I don¡¯t know if she was expecting it, but she was not alone. She did not want to leave, but she has responsibilities to follow and a duty to fulfil. She is a great girl, so she chose to leave of her own free will, so I did not try to stop her. I am not worried for her; she will be fine. At least we had a proper farewell.¡± Melancholy filled his eyes and voice as he spoke. It told of a long history of moving farewells and missed send-offs. ¡°Wow. I¡­ don¡¯t know what to say. I didn¡¯t see you together, but you were clearly very close. How do you¡­ feel?¡± Aran had a downed and worried expression. She knew how to navigate social events, but not intimate ones. ¡°I¡¯ll live.¡± The human shrugged. ¡°I knew the day would come. I just need a bit of time to mourn, then I¡¯ll be back as new.¡± The words made her uneasy, but the way they were delivered made her blood curdle. It was so¡­ weary but matter of fact. She didn¡¯t know what it meant, but she couldn¡¯t ignore it. She just couldn¡¯t. ¡°You¡­? What do you mean?¡± ¡°She was the best thing in my life since¡­ I don¡¯t know, since I left the orphanage, probably. She made me feel like there was a point in existing. Of course she wouldn¡¯t stay in my life. One full cycle was already more than I expected. She even left me a parting gift, although I don¡¯t know what she meant by that. I can only take comfort in the idea that she felt the same, and she is still alive somewhere, moving forward.¡± Those were the words of a beaten person. Someone who never expected anything from life, besides repeated metaphorical beatings. That was already creepy. But the tone, that¡¯s what puffed Aran¡¯s tail like never before. It was not the dejected, grieving tone of someone who had just lost someone important. It was not the angry tone of someone who was constantly let down by other. It was the tone of someone commenting on the clothes they wore at work. Casual. Purely stating a fact. The tone of someone who was so used to losing everything that mattered it was routine by now. The man in front of her was almost an empty shell. Just going through motions, even when doing something he liked. He should be afraid of liking anything. Any pleasant time was just a breather to give him something to hang onto so it could be taken away. It was terrifying. ¡°I didn¡¯t think Kad would be followed that soon though.¡± Zax added absentmindedly. ¡°How so?¡± She was almost too afraid of the answer to ask, but she couldn¡¯t just stop anymore. She was too lost in her tumultuous thoughts, barely processing the conversation, unable to escape it. To pull her eyes away from him. She hugged her tail tighter as she listened to his answer. ¡°Well, so far, all my friends mutated and left the dot one after the other, but with some time in between. Losing two in two days is a new record. Although Quinn was more than a friend.¡± ¡°But Kad hasn¡¯t left yet?¡± She sounded unsure. ¡°We can¡¯t see him anymore, so close enough. I didn¡¯t check but you can try if you want.¡± She did. He was right. There was even a warning that insisting in trying to contact the four-armed giant would result in severe legal actions. It was as clear a threat as this side of the law could get. ¡°What? And you¡­ see that often?¡± The foxy girl was starting to realise something. ¡°Only when a friend of mine mutates enough.¡± ¡°And you end up alone, then make new friends, then they leave, and so on. Any bond you make torn away by their dreams becoming reality.¡± She barely managed to state her conclusion, but another realisation creeped in just behind it, raising her eyebrows to the roof. ¡°A dream you also share, but can never partake in.¡± She added in a whisper. She didn¡¯t hear his answer. She didn¡¯t need to. His story was disturbingly familiar, but unlike her, he couldn¡¯t run away. There was nowhere to go, no one to escape from. His abuse wasn¡¯t physical or even verbal, and it didn¡¯t come from certain people. It was more insidious than that. It was emotional abuse from society itself. No one was to blame, no one wanted to hurt him. Not even the system. It just happened anyways. Over and over again. His most important relationships could stop anytime without warning. Would stop. In the best future he could hope for, he was still alone. And yet¡­ Despite all that, he kept going. Even when he was just going through motions, waiting for the arrival of the next thing that will inevitably be taken away, he never stopped looking forward. Never stopped trying to improve. Never stopped creating bonds with others, even knowing they could be, no, will be torn apart one way or another, sooner or later. But he still spoke like someone who didn¡¯t expect anything better from life. In the end, was he already broken or not? Aran didn¡¯t know, but there was one thing she was certain of. She couldn¡¯t leave him be. She simply couldn¡¯t. ¡°Let me sleep with you tonight!¡± Chapter 7 - Workout Day Silence. A hot and awkward silence, as both of them processed what the tailed girl had just shouted. ¡°Quinn hinted she left you as a kind of replacement for her, and I am not sure what she meant by that, but I know for a fact it was not that type.¡± Zax delivered his line as flatly as he could, with moderate success. ¡°I¡­ just meant¡­ in your home. Like last night. I don¡¯t think you should stay alone, right now.¡± Aran squirmed as she explained, squeezing and twisting her tail between her hands. Zax tried to keep a severe face for a bit longer, just to make her squirm, but after a few seconds he burst out laughing. He couldn¡¯t help it; his nerves got the better of him and released all his tension. Aran pouted, realising she had been played. It took an uncomfortably long time, but the human eventually calmed down enough to give an actual answer: ¡°Well, I have the room and I am curious as to what Quinn meant, so I don¡¯t mind giving you a more regular place to stay so you don¡¯t have to pretend to be friends with a different person every night.¡± The foxy girl stammered a denial at the last comment, but his matter-of-fact and non-judgemental tone removed any point she would have to do so. She could only sigh in resignation and follow on her word. Zax spent the following days studying Aran¡¯s template to figure out what went wrong in his free time. It was frustrating, but he welcomed the challenge. It was an efficient distraction, and it forced him to get beyond what he already knew. Getting out of your comfort zone was always a great way to improve. Aran¡¯s feedback also let him improve on other programs. Simple things, like adding a beep to the Zax-boxes to indicate the start or the end of a task. It eased the patient when nanites were doing something in their bodies. It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it had just never occurred to him. And it made a huge difference, significantly reducing the patient¡¯s psychological reaction, the so-called placebo effect, and giving faster, more accurate results, for less energy. He didn¡¯t have many occasions to test it, but a few physicians who still used nano-technology did and they shared their results. The nano-tech specialists were a close but open community, and just like that, Zax learnt that all his calculations were based on a faulty baseline. Well, not exactly faulty, more like¡­ hazy. Which only partly solved the strangeness of Aran¡¯s template. She was constantly tense and alert, even when she didn¡¯t mean to or realised, so his hazy baseline was even more so. But even after compensating, some results were contradictory and made for an impossible template. And yet the system never glitched and didn¡¯t issue any alerts, as if the contradictions didn¡¯t exist. Or were not contradictory? Which didn¡¯t make sense¡­ That was the most frustrating part. Zax manually checked all stages of the calculations without finding any problem; then he checked if the calculations applied and all came as fitting; then he brought Aran to a medical check-up, she came out as healthy and full of vitality, but the measurements gave the same data as his nanites. Everything was as it should on a healthy woman of her age, size and build. For all intent and purpose, the program should fail to function, or Aran should. Aran was perfectly fine though. The check-up confirmed it. She was even showing a few improvements, but that was more due to the new stability in her life. And the frequent general workout, probably. For the very first time, she woke up in the mornings knowing where she would spend the nights. It was like a new world for her, it did wonders for her physical and mental health, and it reflected in her interactions with others. It was impressive how much she noticed when she was not so focused on getting strangers attached as fast as possible. For the first time, she realised her skill at navigating social clues could be so versatile. It started innocently, calming a sore loser by noticing their family was overbearing, then noticing Quinn had done something similar with her, and she quickly got a taste of how pleasant it felt to affect someone¡¯s life for the better. She relished in the games too. Zax kept trying different ways to measure the same parts, hoping to find a clue as to why her template proved so hard to make, and he knew how she liked games, meaning plays and challenges of great number and variety. She felt more alive than ever when she pushed her limits that way. It was a bit awkward at times, when Zax was so focused on studying her results, she felt like an overexcited child with a grown-up trying to do their homework, but it was a small price to pay, and he never judged her for it. By the next week-end, general resting day in the dot, they had planned on spending it on pushing Aran to all her physical limits. Workout, rest, rinse and repeat. A great way to add stamina, recovery and willpower to the list of measured stats. Although Zax didn¡¯t see how Willpower could qualify as a measurable parameter, and even defining it was a hurdle. ¡°It is just too complex. There are many philosophic, moral and even legal repercussions none of us are ready to tackle. I don¡¯t even want to try, and I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t either.¡± He explained as they prepared for the eventful day. ¡°Don¡¯t take it so seriously! It¡¯s just a game.¡± The foxy girl rebuked. She quickly elaborated when he glared his annoyance at her: ¡°Even if that part is not directly used in your¡­ template or whatever, it would be an awesome way to motivate the player. And besides, an RPG without a WIL stat would never be taken seriously. If that¡¯s how you want to sell it, you can¡¯t half-ass it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a good point, but how would I even do that? How do you give a number to something so¡­ subjective and intangible? Strength and speed can be measured. Gastric efficiency can be calculated. Even charisma can be inferred or extrapolated. But willpower? One person can be a coward who cannot be bothered to clean their own home; and at the same time, they could be the type who wait in line for several hours, or even days, for a limited-edition collector figurine. That would give them a low, then high score. And that motivation could come from fear of a deadline, despair at who will come to get them if they fail, or just passion for their job. Do they get a bonus for any of those? A malus? Nothing special? Even if ¡®it¡¯s just a game¡¯, it has to stay coherent throughout.¡± Seeing Aran hesitate, he pushed to the finish line. ¡°It is just too much time and effort to be worth a bit of motivation and a stat I will not use.¡± ¡°But¡­ that¡¯s just too¡­¡± Aran deflated. It was such a waste, but he was right. He didn¡¯t deny it was possible, just not worth his time. She couldn¡¯t really deny it. Unless¡­ ¡°What if I do it?¡± She perked up as inspiration struck her. ¡°What?¡± ¡°What if I determine how WIL is decided? If I make the effort, you won¡¯t, so it will be worth your while, right?¡± ¡°You have no idea how programming works.¡± Zax stated factually. The discussion continued until they were ready to go, but they eventually settled on a compromise: he would add ¡°Willpower¡± or WIL to the stats, but she would be responsible for how to define, measure, calculate, and generally quantify it. He would teach her the basics of programming to help orient her thought process, but for the rest he would just follow her directives. She was ecstatic at the result and immediately started brainstorming, but very soon she had to focus on her breath to not lose her stride too early. When Zax had proposed to use this day to fully focus on the neglected parts of her template, she had agreed without seeing any harm to it. When he used the light road to go to an undisclosed destination and told her to run next to him all the way, she first thought he was joking. When he took out the pictures and videos taken after she lost that bet two days ago, it dawned on her how much he had planned for this day, and how much he was not joking at all. His terrifying smile told her she would not forget that day anytime soon. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Her coach for the day made her jog through a long detour. He had planned on staying on the light road so he could focus on his patient¡¯s data as she dashed, but she struggled so much he ended up trotting with her. He expected her to have a better stamina, but he didn¡¯t comment on it. Games rarely extended effort that long, after all. They eventually reached his destination; the workout area. It was a well spread complex filled with all amenities for exercise and recuperation, situated between the education and entertainment areas. People still debated whether it was part of one or the other, but nobody really cared. The borders between areas were more practical than official anyways, and they kept changing with what the dot needed. ¡°Here, drink this. I am going to check into my reservations.¡± Zax handed her a bottle with a coloured band on top. He left before she could ask what the band meant, but still drank greedily and tried to catch a sliver of her breath. It had been a lot harsher than she thought, and they had just started. ¡°Everything is in order, come along.¡± The human motioned with his head. ¡°We will start low and go up depending on your results.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± The foxy girl could only sigh, her tail dropping in resignation. It felt more than high enough already. ¡°Don¡¯t be so down, I¡¯ll to it with you. It won¡¯t be as boring that way.¡± His presence did help, but something else caught her attention: more than a few people came by, to ask for advice or just to greet Zax. Most knew him by name, and he always answered in kind. And he always did have an answer for them; on where to find this or that training machine, on what exercise to train a monkey tail, even on someone¡¯s diet. And they all have a somewhat remarkable, size or muscle related mutation. Too much for a coincidence. He was also constantly spotting and fixing flaws in her form, explaining what muscles group she was to use and what problems her divergence would cause. She could have done without the pictures though; some were really disturbing. Gruesome didn¡¯t even begin to describe it. She would never take her back¡¯s perfect S-curve for granted again. Who knew mutations could worsen bad habits and their effects? Well, Zax knew, but that was beside the point. She had never been told anything negative about the 3G or its effects. Food for thought. Later. When she didn¡¯t to fully focus on her arm¡¯s speed and angle, her breathing and her ankles¡¯ position. ¡°You really- know a lot- about that stuff.¡± Aran panted at one of their longer breaks. The normal ones were just enough to keep her going, so when she had the chance, she tried to make him talk to extend the respite. It didn¡¯t really work. ¡°How long have you- been doing this?¡± ¡°At least once a week since¡­school brought the class here, I think. With a few exceptions. Life happens.¡± ¡°I would¡¯ve never though you were a sports buff.¡± ¡°Ha! I am not. I just got into the habit with my friends. Kad was the sports buff. He probably spent as long here as you in the arcade room. He loved the feeling of muscles burning from use and seeing his results improve, and his enjoyment was communicative, so we all got involved in some way. Mine was smoothing massages. And since I do not mutate, it is a good way to keep my body healthy. I cannot rely on the 3G to fix flaws, so I better maintain what I have. Now, next exercise. Try not to get hit.¡± She gulped as he led her to a ball pitcher. Zax couldn¡¯t to this exercise with her as he had to adjust the speed and trajectory of the projectiles. She knew his method by then, but she failed every time she tried to pretend that she was more or less tired than she actually was or to adjust the difficulty curve. When she was done with the next series of exercises, Zax demonstrated that his massages were indeed a boon for recovery. She was putty in his hands, unable to move even if she wanted to, and he made it hard to want anything more than just let go. Even her tail wasn¡¯t neglected, and she hadn¡¯t even realised it was so tense and sore. ¡°Wow. I didn¡¯t know it could feel that way. I don¡¯t even use it that much. Isn¡¯t it costly to come here that often?¡± Aran continued the conversation when he was done. She had glanced at the prices of several services and balked at some of them. She didn¡¯t know how rich Zax actually was, but there was no way it was enough to splurge that much that often. ¡°I have a membership. I mostly use it for the discounts on everything and priority in reservations, but there are other advantages. Drawbacks too, it is revoked if you do not use it often enough, so you have to give up or buy a new one.¡± ¡°That¡­ seems like a weird system. Coercion is not a good way to retain customers.¡± ¡°The idea is to prioritise the people more serious about their physical development by making it more affordable and convenient. If they are serious, they will come here at least that often anyway, and if they are even more serious, they will come more often and get more bonuses. It also adds an excuse some need to be allowed here as often.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad the entertainment area doesn¡¯t work like that.¡± Aran noted absentmindedly. ¡°It does. Everything non-essential in the Shelter is geared towards personal development or Shelter expansion. And the dot doesn¡¯t have many options for expansion.¡± The human chuckled. ¡°You probably never noticed because you rarely pay for yourself. But video games are excellent to train various skills, and not just physical. I never understood why they didn¡¯t provide nutritive complements. Probably one of those cases where social expectations hinder development. Or maybe the serums for mental development are not cost effective? Well, speaking of, here.¡± ¡°Those were special complementary nutritive solutions?¡± Aran asked as she took her nth marked bottle of the day. ¡°Some were. Some were diluted normal nutritive pills. Some were just water. I wanted to test your body¡¯s absorption rate in different circumstances. I did not tell you to avoid a placebo effect. What did you think it was?¡± ¡°I wanted to ask all day, but I kept forgetting.¡± Aran answered with an annoyed voice. ¡°I just knew you gave them for a reason and I didn¡¯t have enough energy to care beyond that.¡± ¡°You seem energic enough now.¡± Zax casually noted. ¡°Yes. NO! I mean, maybe?¡± Zax chuckled, but stopped her before she could embarrass herself further. ¡°Relax, we¡¯re done for today. It¡¯s getting late anyways.¡± ¡°Oh finally!¡± Aran laid straight back down where she was. ¡°I¡¯ll feel today for a while.¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be so dramatic. I¡¯m sure it was not that bad, and I bet you didn¡¯t even notice the time.¡± Her silence was confirmation enough. She rested a bit longer before they went to shower, change clothes, and then it was back to Zax¡¯s. ¡°There is still one thing that bothers me.¡± Aran interrupted the relative silence of the light road in the evening. ¡°I did not push you so hard you could not stand back up, so you do not feel like we tested your limits and your willpower?¡± ¡°¡­ There are still two things that bother me.¡± She amended. ¡°Haha. Fair enough. I just did not want you to hurt yourself or your own pride, and I thought it would be more effective to not have you need more than an hour of rest between exercises. Pushing a single stat so far for so long would be harmful and would not give representative results. And it would annoy you and bore you to death! Haha.¡± ¡°Hm.¡± She begrudgingly agreed. ¡°And the other point?¡± ¡°Well, I know I¡¯m not an athlete, but I¡¯d still say I¡¯m pretty fit. So why couldn¡¯t I keep up with you? I know you spend most of your time programming, learning or working in a workshop. I mean, no offence, but I use my body a lot more than you.¡± Zax hesitated a bit, but decided it wasn¡¯t worth making a fuss: ¡°I do not know if you noticed, but I used your nanites to follow your physical state and adapt the exercises in consequence.¡± The foxy girl nodded. She already thought as much. ¡°I have a lot more nanites than you, and I have had them for a lot longer.¡± ¡°But you said you weren¡¯t enhanced!?¡± Aran was shocked. ¡°I am not. But they give me hindsight on my own body. Like, I have a program that constantly diagnose my body. It let me optimise my physical conditioning. I still have to put in all the work and eat appropriately, I just do it more effectively. Knowing objectively when to stop and when push helps a lot. Though I only use it to stay healthy; as you said, a nerd like me does not need to be very strong. I could never keep up with the actual sports buff back there.¡± ¡°They seemed to value you though.¡± ¡°They know the value of a nerd¡¯s informed opinion.¡± Zax bragged. ¡°They will not always follow my advice, but I can give them a new perspective, or confirm their own.¡± When they finally arrived home, Aran collapsed on the couch without even bothering to unfold it. Zax chuckled as he put his bags in order, shaking his head. He had many empty bottles that would need to be recycled. The data of the day needed to be sorted, and he had spotted several points of interest. He entrusted the tasks to his personal workshop¡¯s computer; the day had been taxing for him too. He was a regular at working out, but his own sessions were never that long and exhaustive either. He didn¡¯t stay in his workshop long, but Aran was already asleep when he left it. Another inconsistency; after such a day, she should be physically exhausted, but unable to sleep. And being so high energy, she should have at least slightly recuperated by now. At least enough to make her own bed. Her energy consumption and recuperation¡­ An idea was starting to sprout in his mind, but it was based on too many speculations to be seriously considered. The human put that thought aside and unfolded his friend¡¯s bed under her, without waking her up. He covered her, then went to his own bed. He was exhausted and looked forward to a nice, restful sleep. It took a little nano-technological cheat, but he quickly fell asleep too. An unknown period of time later, the bedroom¡¯s walls lit up with slanted, red and blue stripes running to the side, and a blaring alarm rang from all the devices that could make noise, forcefully waking him up. [Emergency!] [Support requested!] Chapter 8 - Emergency Zax burst out of his room and rushed to his workshop room, waking Aran up. Red and blue stripes appeared on his clothes as he bolted. ¡°What¡¯s going on!? What are you doing!? Where are you going!?¡± She asked, confused and worried. ¡°Emergency! Helping!¡± He took only just the time to grab a special backpack in his workshop before he rushed outside, barely shouting two words of answer and not bothering to close behind him. He dashed to the light road, where a large blue and red disc was waiting for him. He jumped on it and was on his way to the emergency at the fastest speed the road could safely give. Thankfully it was late enough that the road was empty. Now that travel was handled, Zax looked at the details of the emergency in his bracelet. The red in the alert meant it was time sensitive and lives were probably at stake, the blue meant technical or structural failure, and him being called meant the computer had judged his specific skillset was required, or it didn¡¯t know what skillset would be useful, which meant they were operating beyond predetermined parameters. Considering how extensive and adaptive the protocols were, that really meant something. That¡¯s why he did a double take when he read the situation report. For still undetermined reasons, a dimensional power generator had malfunctioned, and in the process of fixing it, an auxiliary generator had exploded before evacuation was complete. Parts of the building had been projected far away, and he was to help with the search and rescue of victims. A truly exceptional situation, less than once a century actually, but nothing the regular protocols and emergency response teams couldn¡¯t handle. So why was the regular human and nano-technology user called? It didn¡¯t make sense, and it got worse when he looked away from his HUD to see where he was and noticed what was rushing past on his left. The forbidden area. The no man¡¯s land. Where no construction was allowed. Where nobody and nothing alive was allowed. A wide empty ring surrounding what was literally and figuratively the centrepiece of the dot and the whole Shelter, the one source of all the Glowing Green Goo. The Core. Everything about the Core was extremely sensitive. Zax could see the walls from afar, a huge uniform cylinder reaching up to the sky and perhaps beyond, as old as the Shelter itself, made by the Founders with unknown materials and methods lost to time. It was an object of curiosity, wonder and desire, and any more knowledge about it was heavily guarded. Zax wouldn¡¯t be surprised if no living human, mutant or not, knew anything more about it. The light road couldn¡¯t go in the no man¡¯s land, and the defences would destroy him if he attempted to put a single foot in. Zax was just rushed along the border, but the bland, empty space still felt oppressive. He finally arrived within eyesight of the incident. The empty area gave him unobstructed view from afar. The damage was worse than he hoped, but better than he feared. The sky, the Shelter¡¯s roof, was still intact at least. Opening the dot to the outside environment was the absolute worst-case scenario, but also the least likely. On the right was a building with a missing part, as if a giant scoop had torn a bit away. Firefighters were already on site, taking care of the fire, smoke, evacuation and collapse of the building. On both sides of it, the medical response was being put in place. If they followed the protocols, they should sort the victims by gravity, stabilise the wounds and send them to actual healing points. Nothing Zax could help with, unless their devices malfunctioned. Unlikely, and even then, they should have spares. On the left, surprisingly few bits and scraps of the missing part of the building were spread in circle around it. Opposite from the damaged building on the right, an enormous part of the reinforced wall of the core was slightly off in colour. Zax only noticed it when he was closer, and only because one of the core wall¡¯s most characteristics features was its uniformity. All around the scene, enforcers assured a blockade, their dark uniform highlighted by glowing underlines, stopping what few passers-by happened to be there despite the hour. What caught Zax¡¯s attention was that they were also cordoning a wide band of the no-man¡¯s land, and the core¡¯s defences were not reacting to them. The situation might be worse than it seemed. ¡°Ayaaaaaaa!¡± When he was close enough to the blockade, Zax shouted to announce his presence. The bystanders jumped out of the way when they glimpsed at his flashy red and blue outfit, but the two enforcers on the way showed no sign of moving. Luckily his nanite and the computer¡¯s emergency settings let him see the collision coming and overload the light road. The boosted magnetic field launched him above them and let him keep going, not slowing in the slightests. Not safe at all, but allowed for this time. That showed how dire the main computer judged the situation. Or at least how urgent. Zax dimly heard the enforcers¡¯ outraged reaction, but the rushing wind hid most of it. He did notice those specific enforcer¡¯s mutations were surprisingly advanced and seemed more oriented towards intimidation than action, but he couldn¡¯t afford to care given the situation. He still saved the information in his notes though. His race finally ended, putting him beyond the medical response, at a safe distance from the firefighters and the building, and within earshot of a heated argument. Zax tore his eyes away from the busted power plant and toward the other commotion. There were five people standing around an improvised table with blueprints on it, on the outer edge of the no man¡¯s land. He didn¡¯t know who they were, but the two loudest had way too advanced mutations for the dot, one without obvious mutations was going back and forth between them like he didn¡¯t know whose side to take, and the two others were discussing on their own side over the table, quickly pointing different points on the blueprints. One of them was a giant in a very ornery enforcer uniform, definitely high-ranked, while the other was scrawny with a normal engineer uniform. Zax was supposed to be greeted by someone who would send him to the rescue team to be briefed on the plan, or at least his role; but no one was coming, and there was no team in sight. He briefly considered he might be the first to arrive and had to wait for others, but his outfit¡¯s colour reminded him time was of essence. He swallowed his anxiety and went straight to the probable command post. ¡°Zax responding to emergency calling!¡± The five all stopped what they were doing and turned to him, startled. No one answered for a short while, but the enforcer broke the silence before Zax had to snap them out of it. He was a towering mass of muscle, with thick hide in lieu of skin and six long fingers on each hand beyond long limbs. At least as tall and wide as Kad, without simian features but with a severe, intimidating glare that had nothing to do with a mutation. The enforcers he had jumped at the blockade were mutated towards bluff and looking though, but this one was the real deal, all about raw power and tool proficiency. Especially weapons; if the gear covering his attire was of any indication. Pockets for days. The professional adjuster couldn¡¯t help but notice, all in a specific shape, position and orientation to allow for an immediate reach of their content when needed and minimal interference when not. Even weight was taken in- ¡°You¡¯re the one the computer called? That was faster than expected.¡± The giant nodded approvingly. Zax chastised himself for his errant thoughts and went back to the present. ¡°Yes, suspiciously so.¡± One of the more advanced mutants noted, squinting at his counterparts. ¡°Better that than the opposite, no?¡± The other answered, seeming to gloat for some reason. ¡°The one? There are no others?¡± Zax asked for confirmation, ignoring the weird conversation. ¡°We don¡¯t think so, but we don¡¯t have time to wait. Do you know why you¡¯re here?¡± Enforcer queried. ¡°Explosion sent part of building away. I am to help with search and rescue of victims. No idea why me or what¡¯s special here.¡± Zax shook his head, talking as fast and concisely as possible. ¡°Th- the way the centre is built and th- the way the shields operate protect the rooms individually, but- but not the walls between shields.¡± Lab coat guy explained. He didn¡¯t have obvious mutations, but his fidgeting and sputtering were typical of someone with enhanced intellectual abilities at the expense of the social ones. ¡°The- the rooms are protected independently, but one was unfortunately placed and- and launched into the- the- the Core.¡± He pointed to the off patch Zax noticed earlier. Everybody but the two more advanced mutants grimaced at that. Those two¡¯s faces just went from scornful towards each other to fully despising no one specific. ¡°N- Normally they would¡¯ve been lost immediately, but the shield held long enough that the- the main computer managed to ask the Core¡¯s independent computer to not k- k-atomise them. They are still alive in there. I¡¯m sure of it.¡± ¡°And-¡± ¡°The core¡¯s autonomous computer still refuses to let our communications go through.¡± The enforcer took over, interrupting one of the advanced mutants before he could start talking. ¡°We can¡¯t reach them and we don¡¯t know if they are dead or wounded; all we know for sure is that the room¡¯s shield is still holding, that it won¡¯t last long, and that even if it does, the Core¡¯s patience won¡¯t. And once it ran out¡­ We must find a way to get them back here before it happens.¡± The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I understand the situation, but why me? I-¡± ¡°Just a formality.¡± A self-assured voice came from the out-of-place mutant before Zax could explain his irrelevant expertise. ¡°That junk you let decide about everything here had to call his own ¡°experts¡± so they could officially attest how useless they are, or your local ¡°enforcer¡± here wouldn¡¯t let me go, and I promised my family to play nice while I¡¯m here.¡± Zax had almost forgotten about that pair, but they loudly reminded everyone of their presence. Okay for ¡°experts¡±, but why did ¡°enforcer¡± sound sarcastic too? And what was that about his family? ¡°Of course they wouldn¡¯t let you go, since I am the best of us. My family could pay a lot more.¡± The second one scoffed before the human could vocalise his questions, oozing at least as much smugness as the first. Again with the family? Am I missing some context here? Zax¡¯s actually looked at them to see if he was missing something, but first thought was: Like cats and dogs? Their mutations were surprisingly similar; both had a fully human torso and head, but their arms up to mid-humerus and their legs up to mid-tights were heavily hybridised, at least fifty percent canine and feline respectively. Just that pointed them as inhabitants of the first circle at least. Both men wore the same type of clothes, showing off their less human parts. Normal Circle fashion, but not as much in the dot. External mutations were not advanced enough to replace clothes. Looking more carefully however, their mutations were not just surprisingly similar, but uncannily so. Not only were both just as advanced in the same places, like how close to fully digitigrade their feet were or the configuration of their hand pads, but even the transition with the human parts were uncommon in the same way. That type of whole limb mutation was a rarity in the dot but common in the Circles; and Zax had studied the subject enough to know the most usual shifts were a gradation and a straight line. An almost pattern like theirs was not unheard of, but two identical patterns at the same place on two different people was thought impossible. With their relationship, it was too much to be a coincidence. ¡°There we go again.¡± Lab Coat muttered under his breath before Zax could analyse further. ¡°Those two have been at it since before we arrived.¡± The huge enforcer explained as the pair kept bickering. The fifth and last person present went back and forth between them. He had no discernible mutations, and Zax wasn¡¯t sure whether he was trying to defuse them or if he was a lickspittle. ¡°They claim one of them should be the whole rescue team.¡± Even his professionalism couldn¡¯t hide his extreme annoyance. ¡°Their mutations are probably the most advanced in the dot right now, so I can¡¯t deny they would be helpful. Since you¡¯re the expert it¡¯ll be your call.¡± ¡°Uh?¡± He had to take a decision about two advanced mutants¡¯ role in a highly sensitive rescue operation inside the Core itself? Wasn¡¯t that too much responsibility for just him?! He was getting lightheaded just thinking about it. Just why was he chosen? ¡°What¡¯s the plan so far?¡± His voice was faint, but if the other noticed they didn¡¯t show it. ¡°None. Simulations gave us a rough idea of where the room is,¡± The muscle man displayed a mostly empty map on the table. ¡°But we still have no way of passing the wall.¡± ¡°What? What do you mean ¡®no way of passing the wall¡¯?¡± Zax asked even as he touched the projector to connect it to his bracelet. His nanites would give him the information more effectively than a visual projection. ¡°The Core had already sealed the hole when we arrived, and it won¡¯t open a passage for us. The main computer is negotiating, but no success so far. The most we could get was to let our people in the no man¡¯s land in a limited space, and only as long as we don¡¯t attack it.¡± ¡°So no forcing entry either. Wait, the core had already fixed the wall? By itself?¡± ¡°Yes-yes, quite fascinating.¡± Lab coat exclaimed, excitation shining through his anxiety. ¡°From the recordings, we think it¡¯s a smart polymer.¡± With a few hand waves, the scientist reduced the map and showed a video. Even his stuttering has lessened. ¡°This was taken from a security camera that originally watched a corridor, but since part of the corridor blew away, it shows part of the wall. Look, this is the enhanced and centred version. It¡¯ll be brief.¡± The camera had been damaged, but the recording was surprisingly high quality. It was already zoomed in on the enormous hole in the wall, showing the torn metal delimiting the unlit interior of the Core. The wall¡¯s thickness was obvious despite the distance, impressive but not unexpected. Then the metal flowed to seal the hole shut. Zax¡¯s eyes went as wide as saucers. No, flowed was not the right word. It didn¡¯t melt or behave like a liquid. It was as if the blackness of the hole was painted on the wall and progressively erased. In less than a minute, the huge gaping opening was patched, the slightly darker colour the only hint that something happened. ¡°Incredible¡­¡± Zax whispered. ¡°I know right!¡± Lab coat exclaimed, glad to finally meet someone who realised what a feat it was. ¡°¡­ And strangely familiar.¡± The human frowned. ¡°What?¡± ¡°[Query: search / personal memory / similar pattern]¡± ¡°What?¡± the enforced added his question to the scientist¡¯s. Zax¡¯s queries to his nanites didn¡¯t have to be stated aloud, but he did it for the other¡¯s benefits. [Reply: (3) Correspondences found] ¡°[Display result with highest match]¡± The answer arrived as swiftly as expected and was displayed without trouble on the holo-projector, but it was so outlandish he had to do a double take. He tried the other correspondences and made a visual comparison, all in front of the others, but the first result was indeed the most likely: ¡°This self-reparation is characteristic of nano-technology acting at a macroscopic scale.¡± Zax stated. Even saying it aloud didn¡¯t make it sound less impossible. ¡°Nano-technology?¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± ¡°¡°What?¡±¡± ¡°Uh?¡± That news even caught the attention of the bickering pair and their add-on. ¡°I use nano-technology a lot in my job. From the way the wall fixed itself, I am positive it is nano-technological.¡± Zax repeated, this time more confidently. Thinking more about it, he could see it make sense. ¡°Bullshit! Even here such a weak technology wouldn¡¯t work for long.¡± Canine-man decried. ¡°Hate to agree with him, but even your lame mutations have a disruptive field.¡± Feline-man concurred. Their follower just nodded along. ¡°Oh, so you can get along.¡± Zax noted. ¡°But no, that¡¯s just a common misconception. The disruptive field only works on active electronics. Once the nanites or macrites are in place they can power down and they won¡¯t be affected and the structure will hold. There would have been trouble if there had been a mutation around during the patching though, so the time and place are lucky in some way.¡± ¡°Macrites?¡± Lab coat asked. ¡°Like nanites, but microscopic. Bigger.¡± ¡°So what you¡¯re saying, is that the wall of the Core is covered with nanites?¡± Enforcer forced the topic back on track. ¡°In that case, the patch should be superficial and easy to pass, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°No. I¡¯m saying the wall is made of nanites. With maybe a few other pieces here and there.¡± ¡°That¡­ seems unlikely.¡± Enforcer didn¡¯t want to reject the idea, but it was clear he didn¡¯t believe it either. ¡°I know. I never even heard of using pure nano-technology on that scale. It¡¯s¡­ bewildering. Something we would only see in movies.¡± Zax didn¡¯t try to hide his awe as he spoke. ¡°But it¡¯s what the recording tells me. And we all know the Founders¡¯ technology was way beyond what we can do now. And it would explain why the computer called me. Nano-technology is the only thing I¡¯m good at. Unless you have a better idea?¡± Zax concluded with a shrug. ¡°¡­ Fine. Considering you are right; what does that tells us?¡± ¡°¡°What!?¡±¡± ¡°Are you out of your mind!?¡± The annoying trio protested. ¡°I tire of this.¡± ¡°My patience is limited.¡± ¡°¡°Retainer!¡±¡± Those two were very synchronised in their displeasure, they even finished their complains in a chorus. ¡°Yes, Young Masters.¡± The fifth man turned his attention towards the others for the first time. His drawling voice managed to be both honeyed and oily at the same time. ¡°Hello youngling. Allow me to introduce myself, I am-¡± [Warning!] ¡°Their retainer, I got it. Sorry but time is still run short, so let¡¯s keep the pleasantries for later.¡± Starting with a neutral greeting, then reminding his seniority, then subtly giving an order to take control of the conversation. One of the basic manipulation tactic Quinn had warned him against. He didn¡¯t think the subroutine he had set for it would ever come into play, but there it was. And Zax didn¡¯t appreciate them trying to play mind games when lives were at stake, and using a droning voice to let the urgency of the situation build up made it even worse, so he just flipped the game board and moved on. He didn¡¯t notice their shocked faces. Turning back to the Enforcer, he answered the question: ¡°I don¡¯t know how deep the pure nanites part goes, but if it is as far as the part we saw in the video, there is no reason to assume it does not go all the way. That means from the first foot inside, everything can be turned against you, floor, walls, roofs, even the air itself. And not just falling roof or pit falls, the Core can build and fix anything it needs on the fly anywhere, including armours and weapons.¡± ¡°It could build and charge a massive railgun-laser just outside our perception range, then remove everything between us just as it shoots. And no matter where you are, attacking any part is like attacking the whole Core, or at least the whole wall at once.¡± Everybody paled at that description, even stone-faced Enforcer. ¡°But I¡­ may be able to interact with it? Maybe to open a passage in the wall? But it will definitely see it.¡± ¡°Forcing entry might count as an attack, so that¡¯ll be our last resort. You said you could interact with it. Can you talk to it? Show we won¡¯t harm it or aim for the 3G?¡± ¡°Maybe? But what could I do the main computer didn¡¯t already try?¡± ¡°D-different protocols for humans, different results.¡± Lab coat explained. ¡°Of course! I won¡¯t know before I try, but it¡¯s worth a shot. Knocking on the door and shouting at the window will definitely not count as an attack. But what would I tell it?¡± ¡°What would it want? Or need?¡± ¡°Something that would help it follow its directives. The first is to protect the rift and the 3G, so a warranty that we won¡¯t reach for it. The second is¡­ what again?¡± The scientist answered first. ¡°To maintain itself.¡± ¡°So, something to help with its repairs.¡± Zax continued. ¡°Materials, knowledge, manpower, energy, fuel¡­¡± ¡°It has its own energy source and it won¡¯t let anyone come to fix it. Only materials would work. Something it would be missing, or could do with more, so rare ones.¡± ¡°Metals like iridium, uranium, Tungsten¡­¡± ¡°It should have an abundance of organic materials, so no polymers. I don¡¯t know much about crystals, but I bet quartz and silica would be good.¡± Zax and Lab Coat exchanged a rapid firing of suggestions and ended up finding a viable proposition. ¡°If there are other directives, they are classified. That¡¯ll have to do.¡± The enforcer concluded. Despite the pessimistic words, Enforcer and Lab Coat had hope for the first time since that debacle started. ¡°I- I¡¯ll see what we can gather.¡± Lab Coat declared and went his way. ¡°I¡¯ll go and tell the task force we finally have a way in.¡± Enforcer went in another direction. ¡°Ah, make sure not to take the two on the south side of the light road! They didn¡¯t even react when I arrived, their training is severely lacking!¡± Zax shouted as a late recommendation. And just like that, the human was left alone with an unhappy pair of advanced mutants who were not used to being ignored. ¡°¡­ We didn¡¯t check if the Core would listen to me.¡± Zax noticed belatedly. Chapter 9 - The Calm before the Storm Zax didn¡¯t think the enforcer and the scientist would take long to finish their tasks, so he took advantage of that time to browse through their simulations. They had estimations about where the target was expected and what state the people inside would be found in at different points in time. There were more people than he would have thought. However, the new information about the true nature of at least the wall changed a few things. He added his knowledge of nanite constructs. He was not familiar with military grade predictive tactical simulation software; but he had worked on and with more than a few simulators, and a simulation was still a simulation. He was just getting immerged in his work when he was interrupted by a chorus of complaints: ¡°¡°They work for our family.¡±¡± ¡°Hm?¡± Zax turned his head back towards the voices. ¡°¡°And I don¡¯t like being ignored.¡±¡± It was of course the pair of cat-and-dog mutants. They were flanking him, frowning, arms crossed, taping their fingers in the same rhythm and in a way that drew the eye to their claws. Zax couldn¡¯t tell if it was on purpose, and the hanger-on wasn¡¯t in sight. ¡°Did you rehearse that? Uh, I can¡¯t decide if you get along or not.¡± The human thought aloud. ¡°How could I get along with him!?¡± ¡°How could you say that!?¡± And just like that, their intimidating act was broken as they turned back against each other. Not for long, but the damage was done. Zax turned back to his work, adding: ¡°Sorry but I¡¯m a bit busy right now. If you have something to say, please get to the point. Concisely.¡± ¡°We came in this backwater place at the request of our family.¡± Dog-man managed to beat the other by a fraction of a second this time. ¡°Some good-for-nothing here needed help on someone with actual ability.¡± Cat-man followed, unwilling to let the other upstage him. Both were content to pretend the last moment never happened. Zax waited for the rest of their tirade, but they just kept looking at him smugly, waiting for¡­ something. He couldn¡¯t figure out what it was; but he was content to let the silence stretch and to focus on his task. He was progressing faster than expected, the simulator was surprisingly intuitive. He would expect a military software to require specific training to use effectively, but- ¡°¡°So¡­?¡±¡± So much for silence, and they were getting heated. ¡°We are more advanced mutants than you¡¯ll ever see.¡± ¡°We are the best opportunity you¡¯ll ever have.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know how you learnt about my hobby, but I still don¡¯t know what you are trying to say.¡± The human answered without deviating his eyes from the holo-screen or slowing his hand movements. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± The pair glanced at each other, seeing their own confusion in the other. What was going on? Why did that dotter react so weirdly? Their distraction lasted just long enough to let Zax finish his modifications and relaunch the simulations. ¡°There we go. Now we wait. You were saying?¡± Zax finally looked away from the screen, only then noticing how close to him the two had gotten. They were only as tall as he, but almost jumped back by reflex. ¡°We don¡¯t know what your hobbies are and we don¡¯t care.¡± ¡°We are Circlers and you¡¯re a dotter.¡± ¡°The 3G itself favour us more than you.¡± ¡°Our family has more weight than yours.¡± ¡°We are the best opportunity you¡¯ll ever have.¡± ¡°We have men everywhere.¡± ¡°Obedience is rewarded.¡± ¡°Impudence isn¡¯t tolerated.¡± The rapid fire of left and right comment would be disorientating for most, but for someone with nanites transcribing what was heard live, it was just a matter of re-reading what was in front of his eyes. There was a lot to unpack, though, and it was all very confusing. Funny how their two speeches could work on their own. ¡°You are not making any sense. You don¡¯t know much about me, that is normal since we barely met. I already knew you came from the First Circle; your mutations and clothes make it very obvious. The Glowing Green Goo is a mysterious mutagenic substance, we do not understand it; but it is clear that it is not a sapient being. It does not have a personality or preferences, so it can not favour someone over another. I do not have a family, so any family has more weight than mine. Nothing to brag about. If you do not mean an occasion to study your advanced mutations first-hand as my hobby, I guess you meant an opportunity to rise socially? To move in to the circle? In that case, I have personal issues that make that impossible, or at least very ill-advised. I can contribute more here. No matter where you have men, the main computer has priority. Not sure how it works outside the dot, but the main computer will ensure the Shelter keeps on running and the dot stays autonomous. Your comments about obedience and impudence are close to basic education, although easier said than done, but I am not your son. You are too young to be him. I do not see how most of those statements relate. And I still don¡¯t know what your point is.¡± He had other things to say, but they could be dismissing or offensive; like how the dot was economically and politically separated from the rest of the Shelter, or that the Main Families despised the dot so much only a few did a token effort to influence it, and they mostly used it as training and testing ground for their less mutated members, or how he didn¡¯t believe two helper¡¯s endorsement would ensure his admission, even helpers normally mutated for the First Circle, or how their mere presence was suspicious and the timing even more so. Except for the last sentence, the whole speech was stated in a monotonous voice and steady speed, neither aggressive nor submissive. He sounded like he was reading a prompt, which took the wind out of the pair¡¯s sails long enough to let him finish. Once he was done though, they immediately and noisily voiced their displeasure. A discordant duet that grated the ear and didn¡¯t make sense. So much for synchronisation. But point for them, even if they got way too close for comfort, they didn¡¯t point their claws at him. It was close, but at least they had some manners. The conversation ended up getting back on track. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°You insulted our men.¡± ¡°Me? When did I insult anyone?¡± Zax was confused. ¡°You said they lacked training.¡± ¡°Severely, even¡± ¡°Yeah, and tried to get them out of the task force.¡± ¡°It¡¯s an insult.¡± ¡°To them, to their skills, to our family¡¯s training, and to our family as a whole.¡± ¡°Do you even know who they are?¡± ¡°Err, from your mutations, I assume the Brahn Family, or at least a subsidiary? They¡¯re experts in physical reinforcement that often lead to actual animal hybridization. It could¡¯ve been the Yokai Clan, but you mentioned a family, not a clan. Heard it was a big deal for them.¡± The human added with a shrug. ¡°And I don¡¯t know what kind of training your family give your men, but it really is lacking. Everyone moved away when I arrived full speed and shouted, as they should when someone with those blaring colours arrives in this situation, but those two didn¡¯t react. Like, at all, they just stayed on the way, trying to look stalwart. They almost slowed me down, you realise? If they wanted to stop me, they wouldn¡¯t have acted any different. What do helpers need bodyguards for anyway? Important people from the Circles aren¡¯t sent in the dot, and especially not just to help do someone else¡¯s job in a non-biotech power centre.¡± ¡°Our family has their reasons and they are none of your business.¡± They don¡¯t know either? ¡°We ordered them to help your enforcers.¡± ¡°We didn¡¯t have to, and they could have refused.¡± ¡°If they want to stop you, you stop.¡± ¡°Of course they will want to stop a guy coming at them full speed.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the whole point of a blockade.¡± ¡°Apologies. Now.¡± The last one -the cat one, as it was- uncrossed his arms and pointed down, putting his other hand on his hip. ¡°I see. You are right that you didn¡¯t have to order your men to help, but only because they would have had to go anyways. It¡¯s part of the rules of the dot: private security is allowed, and even encouraged in some cases, but during emergencies they are requisitioned based on proximity. If your men happened to be the closest of the situation, they were to immediately follow computers orders and procedure. If enforcers were closer but more men were required, yours would have been taken if they were close enough. Provided it didn¡¯t put you in danger.¡± ¡°As if our men would follow your junk¡¯s orders over ours.¡± The very idea was so ludicrous it wasn¡¯t ever worth getting worked up. ¡°Er, if they didn¡¯t want to be fired, they would have no choice. I wouldn¡¯t expect helpers to know, but as private enforcers they definitely did. Any private security force has to agree to follow those rules to be officially recognised and allowed to practice. I am sure there are differences in the Circles, but they were warned of it when they passed the border anyways, and they would not have been allowed to enter without agreeing. Else, it can only mean they came in illegally, or that they were not recognised in the first place. So let me ask this: does your family employ illegal task forces, and does your family encourage illegal activities?¡± That revelation really rocked them both. Their authority could be stripped away just like that? ¡°Of course everything was in order.¡± ¡°You advised us to send our men to help. Why did you not tell us that?¡± The question was turned to the third man originally present, but they then remembered he had left a bit earlier. Smart man, he definitely played them. ¡°To make you feel more involved?¡± Zax speculated. ¡°Anyway, even if they knew they had to help, it doesn¡¯t mean they had to let you pass. How could they possibly know that?¡± ¡°Right, back on topic: Because basic education anywhere in the Shelter includes knowing the emergency protocols, and basic enforcer training includes what it means when someone with these clothes arrives running and shouting at such a scene, as well as the appropriate responses.¡± ¡°The Circle¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°The colour codes and principles of the protocols are the same in all the levels of the Shelter, specifically to prevent confusion. That is why you should know what this red and blue mean, even if you do not know why someone is wearing them.¡± Zax pulled his shirt collar. ¡°In the dot, those are drilled in us all along our education and regularly tested and refreshed. It is supposed to be the same in the Circles; so if you do not know, not just your family¡¯s, but the education of all the First Circle must be reworked, and the computer was too lenient in what it let ¡°organics¡± decide by themselves. Unless it¡¯s just you, but I¡¯d be rude to assume that. I¡¯ll just let the main computer do as it will with that information.¡± The pair didn¡¯t know what to answer. They only just realised how much they reflected not just their family, but the Circle as a whole and what an impact it could have. Fortunately, they were spared the need to have the last word when the simulator beeped his preliminary completion and Zax dived right back in. ¡°Too many scenarios¡­ but already sorted by type? Neat.¡± The programmer muttered to himself as he kept on refining the results. ¡°Let¡¯s just keep the best case, worst case and most likely scenarios. Now-¡± He didn¡¯t get far before the task force, led by Enforcer, came to get him on their way. The bargain materials would arrive soon. Zax briefly explained what he had done and what was still lacking. Enforcer nodded an acknowledgement, pouring over the results and assuring that Lab Coat (whose name was Mart, apparently) would get it when he got be back. Then the briefing of the operation started. Enforcer repeated Zax¡¯s warning and examples almost to the letter, so he didn¡¯t have anything to add about that. The plan was straightforward: they would all go to the patch on the wall, Zax would attempt to convince the Core to let them in with the metals as a bribe, then the force would go in, find the missing people, stabilise those that could be, and bring everyone back ASAP, the corpses too if possible. Zax would most likely just stay close to the entrance to ensure it stayed open, and only come if the rest of the Core was indeed made of nanites and if he could affect them, which was an even bigger ¡°if¡±. Everybody was tensed listening to the speech, which was appropriate, but the civilian couldn¡¯t hep but feel it was still premature. It wasn¡¯t even sure he would be able to talk with the Core defences, let alone convince it to let them pass. That is, until he glanced at their gear. Medical supplies, detectors, foldable stretchers were normal. Emergency, hyper-nutritive rations made sense to help with healing. The body bags though, almost made him puke his heart out. They were fully ready to find corpses. Maybe even only corpses. It was then that the full weight of what they were about to do hit him. He already knew, intellectually, of course. That was what he had signed up for. But it only dawned on him what they risked, what could happen, what was at stake. He used to boast about going above and beyond the necessary, and what every inhabitant should do, and the normal decent thing to do, and duty as a person, but it was the first time he was actually useful in an emergency. If they failed, if he failed¡­ the very idea was terrifying. It weighted heavily on his shoulders. He couldn¡¯t let himself fail. He felt a new sense for the tension the others emitted. And they lived that every day? A new dose of respect for those specialists filled him. The team leader finished his explanation. A few questions were asked here and there, and Zax barely heard cat and dog. He hadn¡¯t noticed they had been called too. Lab Coat arrived soon and before Zax knew it, they were at the foot of the wall and he was getting ready to attempt communication. He put his backpack down, it hadn¡¯t left his back since he took it in his private workshop, pressing a button and revealing it for what it was: a giant Zax-box. The function was the same: controlling a specific batch of nanites, but more powerful. It had more autonomous functions and could interact with more batches, each way bigger than a standard dose. The nano-technology expert first used it to detect any outgoing wave, explaining what he was doing as he went. He tried every trick his Big-Box could, but as expect it didn¡¯t work. The wall didn¡¯t emit anything it could detect, and didn¡¯t react to any of its emissions. It was no surprise, if interfacing with the wall was easy, it wouldn¡¯t have been an unpassable barrier for so many centuries. That left trying the more direct approach: interfacing directly with his own nanites. Ignoring the surrounding gasps, the human raised his hand and slowly pulled it closer, still trying for a wireless interface before initiating contact. He closed his eyes, focusing all his attention on his nanites feedback, until it happened. [Connection attempt detected] [Unknown interface] [Creation of new hybrid interface] [Alert!] [Intrusion detected] [Firewall ineffective] [Anti-virus ineffective] [Mainframe breach imminent] [Emergency shutdown] It all happened so fast his brain could barely follow. Without his experience he wouldn¡¯t even know something had happened besides his nanites suddenly not working, but he realised the Core had attempted to hack him, totally overcame his safety measures, and his emergency program had shut everything down as a last resort. His nanites had to use their last resort in less than 0.3 seconds. Impressive, he was surprised they could go that far. ¡°What happened? How do you feel?¡± The Team Leader¡¯s voice pulled him out of his musings, he had forgot to update them aloud. ¡°What do you¡­¡± Zax understood when he failed to get his hand off the wall. The cause was obvious: his arm up to the wrist was still against the wall, but his hand had disappeared. The wall had swallowed it, and no amount of forcing and twisting let him break free. His nanites were safe from the Core, but his body was taken hostage. Chapter 10 - Exacting Core As terrifying as it was to have a body part prisoner of a many building-sized nanotechnological construct managed by an artificial intelligence whose main directives included several variations of ¡°keep people away¡± and very few variations of ¡°life is precious¡±, the fact it had yet to be separated from his body helped Zax calm down enough to analyse the situation. The slap from Team Leader had also helped. Probably. ¡°So, good news and bad news.¡± The human explained while also thinking aloud. ¡°Good news: I managed to establish contact. Bad news: the Core tried to take over my nanites, which initiated my emergency shut down.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t look very¡­ shut down.¡± ¡°My nanites are not linked to my vitals -besides measuring-, I just store them in my body. If I could turn them back on without connecting to the Core, I could read the history and see the details of what happened, but with my hand like that there is no way to avoid it. The second I turn them back on, Core will complete the takeover and do what it wants. I will not be able to stop it. And we have no idea of what it will do.¡± ¡°What can it do?¡± ¡°Kill me for starters. Just shaking the nanites in the right place at the right frequency would tear my tissues and organs. It could control my perceptions to make me see and hear whatever it wants, and access all my programs and stored data. Including my memories. And through my connection to my bracelet, it could access any system my bracelet can access. Ah, that one is easier to solve. Here.¡± Zax turned his bracelet off, unlocked it and gave it to the flabbergasted team leader. Good thing the trapped hand was the braceleted one. ¡°I guess you have isolating bags or something like that?¡± The bracelets were usually considered very private, or even intimate, so seeing someone remove and give theirs so casually was jarring for the experienced enforcer. Without a word, he presented an open zip bag, making sure not to touch the offending item as he received it. ¡°But there are several¡­ strange points.¡± Zax turned back to the wall like it was nothing. ¡°It did not just seal itself back and took my hand with it. It is not forcing a connection, and it is not shoving its own nanites in my body for a¡­ more physical takeover. It should have no reason to take my hand. The only thing it does is¡­ keeping me here. It¡­ wants me for something? Something that requires me staying here with both hands attached? It accepted the connection before I could modulate it. That means it should not be any different than what the B-Box tried. Then why not accept the Box¡¯s connection? It¡­ wanted a direct connection to me? Or my body? But why?¡± ¡°To take your hand, most likely. Whatever it wants, it won¡¯t let you refuse easily.¡± The enforcer didn¡¯t know much about AIs, but he knew blackmail and a hostage situation when he saw one. ¡°But that¡¯s a pretty backward way of coercing us. I have no doubt it could have taken over without me noticing. Maybe making me decode a decoy message as distraction? And even then, I don¡¯t give orders here. We are pressed by time, but I would be easy to replace, and it should know that. Then why? The status quo is basically unchanged, so¡­¡± then he straightened as if lighting had hit him. ¡°To send a message.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°It took over when I tried to get in contact, but it is not doing anything now that I stopped. It is waiting for us. Making it hard but not impossible to back out. If we want to go any further, we will have to let it do its thing. Follow its demands. It¡¯s a way of establishing dominance, so to speak. While still respecting our free will. ¡°You can still back down, but one step further and you are mine¡±. And maybe ¡°know your place¡±. Or something like that.¡± Zax concluded, looking at the enforcer for more instructions. ¡°How sure are you about that? It¡¯d show it¡¯s open to the idea of letting us in, but that¡¯s a big conclusion to make with very little.¡± At that moment, a dotted pattern appeared on the patched wall. The dots had the same colour as the rest of the undamaged surface. It had happened so smoothly it would have been easy to miss, and the dots were slowly but steadily growing. ¡°Very sure. And something tells me the offer is limited in time.¡± Zax answered, pulling his hand in every direction to test if something had changed about that. ¡°Good to know, but it already matches with the plan. Proceed.¡± ¡°¡­ Yes sir.¡± The human first turned the B-Box off. The Core was already about to take over the machines inside his own body, putting him in a position of vulnerability he had never even considered before. No point in giving it even more ammunitions and a direct way to affect other people. His own message: I¡¯m giving you a chance, but I won¡¯t blindly follow. He then took a deep breath, and turned his nanites back on. <¡°Override emergency shutdo-¡±> Zax stopped his command before the end, his shoulders slumping. The takeover was complete before he could finish that one line of instruction. There wasn¡¯t any notification about it, but he could tell by the lack of that constant feedback he had gotten so used to over the years. ¡°Take over complete, but nothing is happening. Wait. There¡¯s something. Pareidolia? What¡¯s that? Oh.¡± A strange phenomenon happened; wherever he looked, no matter what was in front of his eyes, a new information popped up. The silhouette from the buildings around explained the phenomenon, the lines of his hand mentioned conditions to come in, the wrinkles in the enforcer¡¯s face added to them, and so on. It wasn¡¯t words, but a meaning jumped to him regardless, just like when a dust pattern looked like a face or when household items looked like an intruder in the dark of the night. Very uncanny. Not always clear. But enough as communication. ¡°Connection established. It did read all my data, but it isn¡¯t using my programs. It can still use its own. It can receive information without problem, but it is harder to send them outside. That is why it wanted my hand like that; it counts as ¡°inside¡± now, so it can send me data more easily, even if it is not perfect. It can see and hear what I see and hear, but not ¡°talk¡± normally. So it uses a special method to directly send ideas and concepts. Creepy. I don¡¯t want to be a sock-puppet. It¡¯s easy to see what ideas are¡­ not mine, but I don¡¯t know what else it can do.¡± A shiver ran through his whole body, but he forced through, keeping his voice as level as possible. The people around seemed as creeped out as he. ¡°If I get it right, here are its conditions: Only go in allowed areas it will determine. In and out in as little steps as possible. Any deviation will result in immediate annihilation of everyone and everything it reckon is intruding.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± ¡°It will reject who it wants, no questions asked. Absolute lowest number of people, but¡­ open carts and trolleys allowed? Yes, to help with low number. No weapons, no non-medical sensor and¡­ nothing that can affect the structural integrity? I think it means nothing that can damage the walls or dig into the ground. And they will have to¡­ what? That¡¯s¡­ crazy! You¡¯re asking way too much!¡± The human was appealed by that last condition, unconsciously taking a step away from the wall. The pull on his arm reminded him how impossible that was. The hold on his hand briefly seemed tighter, but it could have been his imagination. ¡°I will decide of that.¡± The Team Leader interceded. ¡°Tell me.¡± ¡°It wants any people going inside to¡­ put their lives in its hands. Literally. So that it can find them and end them any second, with no warning and nothing they can do to stop him.¡± A heavy silence followed that declaration, but it didn¡¯t last. ¡°Agreed.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Getting in there was always dangerous. It doesn¡¯t change anything. Team leader to Home team.¡± The enforcer called in his bracelet. ¡°Home team listening.¡± Followed a distinctively military conversation made of code, mumbo-jumbo and acronyms well beyond what Zax had been taught. He could understand a few snippets here and there, but it made his attempts at concision look like child¡¯s play. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. In no time, a series of basic trolleys had been brought, loaded with medical equipment and empty crates. Five enforcers followed the team leader putting their weapons and pockets down in the crates, replacing everything with medical supplies. Some were still left on the trolleys to be carried that way. They had not been called, but the cat-and-dog duo followed along. They were not armed anyway, they just had to go in the queue and they were ready. While they did that, the human asked a random enforcer for a shaft and used it to turn the B-box on and push buttons to manually prepare an ordinary program. ¡°Ready to go. Open up.¡± Zax nodded to the team leader and send an open request, but nothing happened. ¡°It¡¯s not reacting. I think it isn¡¯t satisfied with your arrangement.¡± ¡°Not a single weapon in all of us, only medical sensors, nobody and nothing that could seriously damage a wall. What is missing?¡± ¡°I would still consider you as armed and dangerous even if you were naked, and I¡¯m sure you could totally punch through a wall. An ordinary one at least.¡± He added with a glance at the wall entrapping his hand. ¡°But that¡¯s just me. I¡¯m not sure what it wants either. Did you- oh, wait, too many people. It doesn¡¯t consider that the absolute lowest number possible.¡± The notions of ¡®too much¡¯, ¡®excess¡¯ and other similar ones assaulted his consciousness every time he looked directly at the line-up. ¡°We expect six rescue targets. A single agent for each is already low, there is not even a protection for the helper and no room for surprises.¡± Zax had barely heard those words that he was assaulted by a wave of nausea. He dry-heaved on the floor, but nothing came out. Then it got worse. All his senses screamed at him in a chaotic mess that assaulted his consciousness and threatened to topple his sanity. ¡°Too much! Gack! Slow down! Help!¡± He tried to shout, but he couldn¡¯t hear himself, or even feel himself screaming. He could only try and endure the onslaught. And endure he did. Not bothering to resist, he just went with the flow, accepting the cacophony for what it was, resisting the urge to try and make sense of it. That sound just smelled cold water and tasted blue, not worth focusing on. His left arm felt like three legs and a finger, it was no big deal. The fly wings replacing his eyes could still see the purple softness of his body heat, nothing bothering here. He didn¡¯t know how long he could last. He didn¡¯t even know how long it had been already. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? The distinction seemed so meaningless. As suddenly as it began, it stopped. He found himself a panting mess, almost kneeling if not for his arm still held up by the wall. Tears flowed freely along his cheeks. The pain of the awkward angle of his arm helped to dissipate the lingering dizziness. He focused on his senses, separating his own sensations from the phantom ones. The cold, sturdy metal on the ground. The sound and feel of his heart hammering in his chest. His own breathing, forcefully deep and slow. The smell of bile and urine. The stickiness of his sweaty clothes. The many blurry weapons pointed towards him. That last realisation snapped him back to the present. ¡°It¡¯s over! I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯ll be fine. I just need to, rest a bit. A year or two in a bed, seem very good right now.¡± The human claimed through his panting. When he had recuperated enough, he wiped his face on his sleeve, stood up on shaky legs and elaborated. The weapons had not moved an inch. ¡°The Core sent me a lot of information. Way too much for my brain to handle at once. Hence the¡­ reaction. I think it wanted to talk about the victims. Rescue targets. I think there is one heavily wounded, one lightly wounded, one unharmed and¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± He sighed. ¡°There were others, but I don¡¯t know what it tried to tell me about them.¡± A hand sign from Team Leader and everyone lowered their weapons. Zax released a tension he hadn¡¯t even realised had settled. ¡°Why did it do that? That¡­ attack?¡± ¡°Why? Uh, what were we talking about again? Right, too many. And you said one per target. And it mentioned the state of the targets. Maybe it wanted to say there is no need for so many people? Since some of them are fine? Also, if you count the advanced pair, that¡¯s eight of you, and it wasn¡¯t an attack.¡± Team Leader briefly pondered the development, but once again quickly gave new orders. Zax couldn¡¯t help but respect the decisiveness and sheer adaptability of the man. He removed people from the group one after the other, until the Core finally reacted their entrance request. It didn¡¯t open a passage though; it just sent an impression of assent the human would see when he considered the three people going. ¡°There. It agrees. Now if someone could press the start button of the box. Three times with a pause in between please.¡± Zax nodded to his Big-Box. ¡°What will it do?¡± The feline mutant asked as the closest enforcer obeyed the silent agreement from their leader. The answer came immediately in the form of electrical and mechanical whirring as the prepared program launched, shortly followed by a hatch opening on the side, revealing three small unassuming grey balls. ¡°Those who get in, please eat a pill. Only one. They are made of nanites. They are not programmed to do anything, but once in the Core it will take control of them. They will let it locate you and kill you anytime.¡± ¡°What!?¡± ¡°How?!¡± ¡°So that¡¯s what you meant.¡± Team leader noted after the wonder twins¡¯ shocked shouts. ¡°Yes. It is not technically poison, but each nanite is small enough to get in your cells. Once there, they would just have to move at the right place to disturb its functions. Or to vibrate and destroy the cell, go to the next, rinse and repeat. But it would take an active effort. They are bio-compatible, so just having those in you won¡¯t do much. And even less so since they have not been programmed yet.¡± ¡°Nanites are bio-compatible?¡± ¡°Nanites are that dangerous?¡± ¡°They can be, if done well and used well.¡± The human acquiesced to both questions. ¡°Then why are they not more used? Even with the disrupting field, I know at least criminals would love something like that, even if just because we don¡¯t have much countermeasures.¡± ¡°I may have made it sound easy, but it is not. Remotely placing a single nanite at the right place in a specific cell? Not that hard. Doing it on enough cells to have an impact on you? Very hard, time consuming and costly. And if you want an instantaneous effect; dream on. That would require nanites in all the related organs. Good luck doing that quickly. And even more if you don¡¯t want to be noticed. The Core only need that tiny amount because of its awesome processing power and whatever it will make behind the wall. Not something just anyone can manage.¡± While Zax explained, the enforcer and both advanced mutants stared at the pill in their hands. The enforcer nodded at the end of the speech and put the pill in his mouth. It melted instantaneously in his saliva and he barely noticed it as he swallowed. The cat-man and dog-man hybrids were more hesitant. It didn¡¯t look like much, but this was still a nanite pill. The same thing as in those movies. They never ended well. The very idea of putting them in their own bodies was repulsive, and knowing it would be used against them made it worse. But they couldn¡¯t back down now. They had to be part of the operation; the prestige of their families depended on it. They might have refused earlier, but the dotter had reminded them how their actions reflected their family. It was the last push they needed. They swallowed as one, keeping their faces as straight as possible. Which was not much, but nobody commented on it. Everybody realised how much guts it took for civilians. With everyone ready, Zax send an entrance request, hopefully for the last time. It finally worked. A hole appeared next to him, too small to let someone in, but just the right shape to push the trolleys through. When they were done, the holes closed and Zax had the rescue team put their hands on the wall, to let it connect to their nanites and let them in. Some of them should have reached the blood stream by now. When the three touched the wall, their hands slightly dipped into it, but nothing followed. ¡°What?¡± Zax frowned at the new sensations coming to him. The three other tensed and jumped away from the wall, leaving their handprints behind. ¡°He¡­ is¡­ what? Too strong? Too much? Too¡­ sturdy? And vitality?¡± He asked, glancing between the wall and the team leader. His handprint had disappeared, but not the two others. ¡°Oh! Oh.¡± Understanding dawned on him, followed by annoyance. ¡°What now?¡± Team leader asked. From the voice, Zax was not the only one getting irritated by the constant setbacks. ¡°Team leader. You can¡¯t go. Your resilience and vitality are too much for the nanites. The Core wouldn¡¯t be able to insta-kill you as promised. I never heard of that; do you mind if I make a deep examination of your body when we¡¯re done?¡± ¡°Not a problem. I¡¯ll take the risk.¡± The enforcer ignored the question. ¡°Very brave of you, but the Core won¡¯t. You¡¯re just too dangerous to be let in like that.¡± Zax managed to explain before the Core assaulted his senses again. Their communication was more and more uncomfortable, the earlier dizziness had still not totally faded and a budding headache worried him. ¡°What about us?¡± the other pair queried, agitated for some reason. ¡°Nothing special. You can go in.¡± They seemed almost upset at that. They tried to say something, but no words passed their mouth. Team leader didn¡¯t wait for it: ¡°Do any of you know the standard medical procedures? Advanced first aid? Basic first aid? Any way to help a wounded person?¡± A negative followed each question. Zax noticed it belatedly, but it was the first time the enforcer actually looked at them. So far, he was content to just ignore their presence. ¡°We can¡¯t just send a team without any medical skill. A volunteer? We need someone with at least some fist aid skill, that would be willing to take nanites. There will be no repercussions if you refuse. Those pills count as body modification, you can¡¯t be forced to agree.¡± The question was directed at the other enforcers, standing a bit further away. Only a few of them knew advanced first aid, and they didn¡¯t step up. The nanites are probably the biggest obstacle, Zax bemoaned. The tourists from the Circle rose in his esteem. Regardless of their reasons, they did take the plunge, and their stigma against nano-technology was probably stronger. For the first time, Zax witnessed the Team leader hesitate. They were running out of options. But who could fit the bill? Who knew first aid and would be ready to swallow nanites? ¡°I do.¡± The whispered words left his lips before he realised. He didn¡¯t mean to say it aloud, but it drew the eyes of the enforcer, so he bit the bullet and detailed: ¡°I have a level 3 first aid licence. I never had to use it, but I know the procedures and how to use emergency medical gear. And I already have nanites in my body.¡± He already knew the danger better than anyone, and he just had a first-hand taste of what the Core could do. Even the memories were physically painful. But someone had to go. Luckily his stomach was empty. His face was several shades more pallid as he concluded: ¡°I can go in.¡± Chapter 11 - Beyond the Wall Team leader Bor blinked, and time slew to a crawl. It would give him enough to analyse. He hadn¡¯t considered that idea. He didn¡¯t fancy it one bit, but he couldn¡¯t deny the arguments. Usually, he would ask Home team for a suitable replacement, as the lost time would be worth the presence of a trained expert, but this specific civilian made him reconsider. This expert had no obvious mutations, but that didn¡¯t mean much in the dot. He had already proven his relevance and his skill with nanites, his initiative with the simulations, and his humility by not overstepping his role. He gave information and opinions freely, but not orders. Just that last point made him consider the proposition, but what weighed the most in his decision was how scared and reluctant the trapped man in a dire need of new clothes was. He tried to keep his cool, but he was terrified out of his mind and didn¡¯t appreciate the idea any more than he. Had he been sure and confident in succeeding the mission, Team leader would have dismissed him out of hand, but this man wasn¡¯t even sure to survive the ordeal. Overconfidence wouldn¡¯t be an issue, so that only left one problem. Or rather, a problematic pair. The Core would be able to restrain them if they posed trouble, but it wouldn¡¯t care if they managed the rescue or not. In the worst-case scenario, they would be useless but not an active hindrance. Still, better to make sure. He blinked, and time flowed normally again. ¡°You have the most relevant skills, so you¡¯ll be in charge.¡± He answered to the expert¡¯s proposition, then addressed the other two: ¡°You will get all possible merits points just by being present. No need for zeal.¡± He wasn¡¯t sure they got the implied ¡°don¡¯t get in the way or else¡±, but it was the most he could do. Oh, how he hated politics. He really hated having to put the two in the rescue team in priority just because their mutations happened to be more advanced. They were strong, no doubt, but strength wouldn¡¯t help here. His own was even a hindrance. No relevant abilities, no relevant skills or knowledge. And because they came from another level, he couldn¡¯t even chastise them for their disturbances, he was only allowed to file a complaint to their Circle¡¯s enforcers. The ones everybody knew didn¡¯t take the dot¡¯s enforcers seriously. That being said, they had been suspiciously calm since he had gathered the team; no shouts or bickering, just bored or impatient expressions. Their toady was nowhere to be seen either. He hadn¡¯t expected them to willingly take the pills though, and with less hesitation than some of his men. Maybe he had misjudged them. But regardless, he had no other choice but to entrust this operation to the civilians. Zax felt confused by Team leader¡¯s decision. Relief, fear and confusion battled for first place. Why put him in charge? He knew advanced first aid, but he didn¡¯t have any leadership training and no mutations to compensate. Granted, the two advanced mutants were not very up to date about emergency protocols and safety measures, and didn¡¯t seem very reliable, and squabbled a lot, and¡­ okay, that made some sort of sense. Were they really that unruly even their advanced mutations didn¡¯t compensate? Just what had they done before he arrived? And what was he supposed to do? ¡°Well, okay then¡­¡± the human called hesitantly when the pair didn¡¯t react. He first had the B-box spew a few general purpose nanite balls, way bigger than the earlier pills, still avoiding direct contact. He put them in his pockets, then sent the request, including himself in the rooster. The wall around his hand parted, freeing him and opening a barely human sized passage. Everybody held their breath; it was the first glance anyone would take of the inside of the mysterious and legendary Core. Even in that situation, nobody could claim not to be at least a little curious. The opening was a meter deep, barely human sized, and all the walls were uniformly black. Nothing more was visible, and it didn¡¯t take a genius to realise it was just a shell to hide what was further. ¡°Disappointing, but not surprising.¡± Zax stated aloud what everybody thought silently. It somehow made him feel less tense. He stepped in and the opening closed behind him, plunging him in the dark. He used one of his nanite balls to lit up the place, but it didn¡¯t reveal anything new. He didn¡¯t have the place to pace around, and the wall did not give in any direction, not even backward. Then, without warning, a circular hole opened above him. The roof lowered. Or was it the ground that rose? He couldn¡¯t tell, and he forgot the question when his head passed the hole. He was at the side of a grey room, more than two meters from the closest wall. Way further than where he left Team leader. The trolleys were there, waiting for them, and a curtain hung on the opposite wall. Cat and Dog appeared in the same fashion soon after, on either side of him. ¡°Whoa, what¡¯s that?¡± Dog looked around. ¡°We¡¯ve been moved.¡± Cat frowned as he answered the obvious. ¡°We could be anywhere now.¡± Zax concluded. To avoid thinking about the situation he was in, he focused on the task at hand. ¡°Let¡¯s not dawdle, we wasted enough time already.¡± He gave each of them a nanite ball, just in case. ¡°Here, take this. It will make light when pressed. Don¡¯t press too hard.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need it. I can see just fine in the dark.¡± Cat proudly refused. More like in low light, but never mind. ¡°I can orient myself by ear and smell.¡± Dog refused too, not wanting to be out staged. ¡°They can have other functions; I¡¯ll add them when needed.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t care.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not touching¡­that.¡± They both insisted. ¡°How is that worse than swallowing some?¡± The human was confused, but put them back in his pockets. ¡°Yeah, about that.¡± Cat started. Dog grabbed Zax¡¯s collar and casually lifted him from the ground with a single arm, in an impressive display of might and a reminder of why mutants were on top of society. It would have probably been very intimidating on anyone who didn¡¯t know Kad. ¡°We don¡¯t really fancy obeying a barely mutant.¡± ¡°Especially a filth covered one.¡± Dog concurred. ¡°The enforcer put you in the lead but don¡¯t expect us to just do everything you want.¡± ¡°Or anything at all.¡± ¡°Did you seriously come here to do nothing at all?¡± The human let his thoughts escape, but quickly went back on topic. ¡°I mean, yeah, I don¡¯t understand his decision either, and I don¡¯t have any leadership training. I can give up the lead if you want.¡± The reaction and decision were so laid-back it caught them off guard. Again. How could he give up on that modicum of power so easily? It had to be the most he would ever get. And it was even power over them! He should hang on to it and press it for everything it was worth! Not give it up immediately! ¡°Exactly.¡± Dog opened his hand and Zax fell on his feet, a bit unsteadily but he didn¡¯t feel off. ¡°Glad you understand.¡± ¡°So, who¡¯s the new leader?¡± Zax queried, going for the trolley. They had wasted enough time already. ¡°Me of course.¡± ¡°Me of course.¡± The pair frowned at each other, then started bickering. Zax didn¡¯t expect that, but remembered what the Enforcer had mentioned at the start. He had mostly seen them working as one, but it seemed they could only do that to intimidate weaklings like him. And not very well either. Whua. Unimpressed, he ignored them and tried to go where they were obviously supposed to go now: the curtains. Tried being the key word, the trolleys were too heavily laden with material. Putting all his weight and grunting under the effort, he managed to move one. By almost three centimetres. Not a viable option. Luckily, there were only two. He was massaging his shoulders and catching his breath when he noticed his headache had faded. The Core had stopped his controlled pareidolia. Maybe it had nothing to say, maybe it would damage him to keep going, but in any case, it was a relief. He turned to the pair, still bickering. He was honestly surprised they hadn¡¯t come to blows yet. The conversation didn¡¯t seem to get anywhere, he was sure he had already heard the last arguments. ¡°Excuse me? We are still in dangerous territory and there are wounded people waiting for us. Can you discuss this on the way? I can¡¯t move the trolleys; they are too heavy. Is one of you strong enough?¡± The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. The reminder was more or less effective, as they took a trolley each and went to the curtains. Still bickering, but it didn¡¯t seem to be about who would lead this operation anymore. At least, Zax couldn¡¯t see the relation between that and who was their aunt¡¯s favourite. The human couldn¡¯t help but sigh at how easily they moved the trolleys. Had he not tried it himself, he would have thought they had no weight. He chased the thought away and went before them to see what was beyond the curtains. The curtains themselves were adjacent cloth-like panels the same colour as the walls. Definitely made of the same nanites, just laid out differently and not as thickly, by a layman wouldn¡¯t notice. As a professional, he was in awe at the transition between the two states. Behind was a short, low ceiling corridor with identical curtains on the opposite side. Zax opened the curtain to help the pair through -fortunately it was wide enough to let them pass side by side, they might have fought to be the first- and when he dropped the curtain something very unexpected happened. Silence. The pair had stopped squabbling, just pushing the trolleys without making a noise. ¡°Something wrong?¡± Zax couldn¡¯t see anything amiss. ¡°Nothing.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just go already¡± Nobody would believe that, but the human didn¡¯t push the matter. For the first time, the two were tense. ¡°What¡¯s that smell?¡± Dog asked after a few steps. ¡°I don¡¯t smell anything. What is it like?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. Not poison but¡­ not pleasant either. I never smelled something like that.¡± ¡°Dangerous?¡± ¡°¡­ no. No, I don¡¯t think so. But it¡¯s getting stronger.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s keep going. Tell us if there are changes.¡± The mutants nodded to the command without making a fuss. A few more steps and they were at the curtains of the opposite end. Behind them was another identical corridor going left. Then another one. And another one. In the next, Cat smelled it too. Zax had an idea of what it was, that was confirmed when he smelled it too, a few airlocks further. ¡°That confirms it: sanitization. Seems we¡¯re being decontaminated.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°We¡¯re not filthy.¡± ¡°Or sick.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a normal protocol to go in a sterile environment, and it is required for any nanotechnological production. For some reason, the Core doesn¡¯t want us to bring in foreign particles, but I don¡¯t know why it wants us to do it now. The targets will not be spotless either. Maybe it¡¯s part of its access protocol?¡± ¡°So, what, we bathe in smelly gases and we¡¯re good to go?¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s just the first part. The concentration will keep progressively increasing to ease us into it, then we will be exposed to radiations at specific wavelengths and ultrasounds. Maybe we already are too. That will destroy or separate the impurities from us, and the chemicals in the air will neutralise and get rid of them. Then we wear a full body suit, to not put our own particles around.¡± Zax glanced at their clawed hands and digitigrade feet, more like paws really. No way they could use standard suits. ¡°I don¡¯t know how it will work for you, maybe it¡¯ll have custom suits? The Core didn¡¯t seem adapted for small scale work though¡­¡± ¡°Wouldn¡¯t suits get in the way? Y¡¯know; to save the targets.¡± Cat interrupted his musing. ¡°Good point. Depends on the quality of the suit and what type of intervention they need, I guess. Or maybe it planned something else and I am severely mistaken. We can only wait and see.¡± ¡°I get the smells, but why all the twists and turns!? I¡¯m getting a headache, turning around and around like that! I¡¯m sure it could make us go in a straight line, that¡¯d be a lot faster.¡± Dog didn¡¯t look well. ¡°That¡¯s why. To disorient us. We¡¯ve made more than four left turns in a row; we should¡¯ve been back in the first room many times already. Also, to slow us down and make sure the chemicals have enough time to act.¡± After too long and too many turns for comfort, they arrived at a new type of room. The size and shape were similar, but there were shelves and cupboards along the walls. They all had an electric padlock, but none were closed. The only locked door was the one leading to the next room, and it wasn¡¯t moving a bit. ¡°Now what?¡± Cat asked. ¡°We¡¯re stuck.¡± ¡°At least the smell is bearable here.¡± Dog noted. ¡°If we follow the logic, there should be protective combinations here.¡± Zax pondered aloud, finally noticing that his clothes and he were all clean. The decontamination had done it job perfectly. They opened a few cupboards and inspected the content of the shelves, but they only had unknown bracelets, belts and protective briefcases. The only things that could count as protection were gloves and glasses. On a whim, Zax took a bracelet an inspected it. It was normal technology, but not one he was familiar with. At all. He put it on and pressed the one button on it, activating the ancient device. A holographic screen appeared, with a simple message: Scan in progress: 1% Please wait¡­ A loading screen if he ever saw one. The progression reached 100% in a few seconds, the message updated and the frame of the bracelet glowed white. The new message was unexpected, but very clear: Protection Field: ON Stability: 100% Energy: 100% Connection: 0/2 A three-dimensional figure of him surrounded stood on the right of the screen, surrounded by a grid close to his body but without touching. He could zoom in and out and rotate it around and even change the density of the grid, but not the distance to his body. ¡°No way¡­¡± Zax quickly understood what it was, but it took a while for his mind to accept that new information. He touched the device everywhere, but it only turned the projection on and off. No other functions appeared. ¡°This is incredible.¡± He muttered, then continued normally. ¡°We have found the protective gear. They produce a force field, or a magnetic field, or something, around us. Try them, let¡¯s see if it will work on you.¡± It did, but the initial scan took much longer, the Stability was lower. Zax postulated that the energy would run out sooner too, but it was too early to tell. The abnormal shape of their not-feet and claws was not an unsurmountable problem, but the fur gave it trouble. The force field didn¡¯t know how close it could or should be, making the grid around their limbs blow up and down erratically. They tried a few things, and it appeared that they could move normally without problem, and they could touch things, but it took a lot of energy, lowering the charge at a visible pace for the human, and alarmingly fast for the mutants. Less so when they touched each other. It was a serious problem, because the ground counted as an object. The solution was obvious enough: the rest of the devices were a support for the bracelet. Each took a connection slot. While it could generate a functioning forcefield by itself, the belt more than doubled the available energy and added enough slots for the rest, the glasses replaced the more complex grid around the eyes, the gloves did the same around the hand, allowing them to touch things without straining the field, and slippers to put around the shoes did the same for their feet. The mutants grid ended up looking like a skinny man with huge arms and legs but small hands and feet. Hilarious, but irrelevant. ¡°How strange.¡± Zax noted as they loaded the trolleys more pieces, both for the rescue targets and as spare parts, just in case. ¡°They can connect to each other, but I can¡¯t detect any port or access point.¡± ¡°For a so-called expert, you look very surprised by all this.¡± Cat noted. There was no mockery in his tone, only curiosity. ¡°Yeah, you didn¡¯t even know what this place was.¡± ¡°To be fair, we don¡¯t use those anymore.¡± Zax defended. ¡°I had heard of forcefield suits, but I thought it was only a theory or a legend in the profession. That level of protection is only useful if you go in a room fully dedicated to working on nano-technology. And not just producing nanites. No one in the dot work at that scale, we just use glove boxes. A simple particle filter and ultrasound-radiation sanitiser are enough.¡± ¡°Uh? How did you know about the decontamination then?¡± ¡°And you knew we would get suits too. Even if they were not like this one.¡± ¡°My teacher was very thorough, and when I learnt about that I didn¡¯t know it wouldn¡¯t have any practical use.¡± ¡°You must be very excited by whatever is behind that door.¡± Dog smirked. ¡°I dare not hope." the human sighed. "Who knows what the Core led us here for? It¡¯s unexpected, so it can¡¯t be good.¡± ¡°Uh?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°What?¡± Zax didn¡¯t understand the pair¡¯s confusion. ¡°I¡¯d expect a dotter to say things like ¡°Trust the computer¡± or ¡°it can only be good¡± or¡­ er¡­¡± ¡°Or ¡°if the computer wants it, we¡¯d better give it without question.¡± You don¡¯t even mind being constantly watched either.¡± Dog completed. ¡°Yeah! That to.¡± ¡°¡­ I don¡¯t know where that came from, but we trust the computer because it will always ensure the dot keeps working. As long as I am a productive member of society, it will not turn against me and it will protect me how it can. And if we have doubts, we can ask the reasoning behind decisions related to us. It is true we are constantly watched, but never in the intimacy of our homes. The general, anonymous information and archives are publicly available, including by ourselves, and the private ones can be set so only some people would get access, or nobody at all. The Core though, it doesn¡¯t care how much I contribute. Just like it doesn¡¯t care how mutated you are or who your family is. It may even find it a problem, and it could turn against us at any time. We have no other choice but to play along for the mission, but I¡¯m not going to blindly trust it. Also, even people struggle with concepts like morals. Don¡¯t go and expect computers, that are made and programmed by people, to understand good and evil. Seriously, if you ever hear someone say ¡°this program means well¡± or ¡°computers are evil¡±, it¡¯s time to stop listening and question everything they ever told anyone.¡± It was food for thought for the two mutants, and they finished loading the trolleys in silence. They also kept a few inactivated spare pieces on their persons, and Zax filled a briefcase, just in case. The door finally unlocked, hopefully closer to their targets. They had lost way too long already. Zax had a last thought before passing what was hopefully the last door before the people waiting for their rescue. The enforcers must have gotten my message by now. I hope they understand. *** After watching the civilian away team disappear in their holes one after the other, Bor re-organised his own team to secure the area for longer term with more members than expected, organising turns and preparing for a fast unexpected evacuation and other worse case scenarios. The current situation was unprecedented and would definitely be scrutinised, he couldn¡¯t afford any misstep. Not sending a single enforcer with the civilians was already terrible enough. He was just done with his last report to Home team when one of his agents signalled an unusual activity, not in the wall, but the so-called Big-Box the nano-technology expert had left behind. He had already elected to leave it be, at least until the expert came back or it became a problem. Standard protocol. If it started acting up, he would have to destroy it. Too bad for the expert, but he should have known what would happen when he left without instructions. Turned out he did know, and he did leave instructions. The Box produced a small sheet from a slit just below the pill giving hatch, with something written. NANITE PAPER - DO NOT TOUCH Box may be hacked. Best course of action: quarantine Will blind Core DO NOT DESTROY May release content. - No doubt the away team was planned from the start. Goal unknown. Chapter 12 - Factory Setting Zax didn¡¯t know what he expected to find during that journey, but that wasn¡¯t it. And from the stunned silence of the two mutants, neither did they. The door had actually been the first of an airlock who changed the air for a sanitised version, but behind the second one rested a spectacle that baffled their minds. The sky of the dot was a dizzying five meters above residential roofs on average, which was optimal for lighting and atmospheric control. Higher and the lamps and vents would lack power; lower and there would be blind spots and energy loss. Those issues could be fixed, but at an ongoing cost in power and material, respectively. Whoever had designed this room did not care at all for those issues; it was simply huge. The doter had never seen so much space outside virtual reality before; it was bigger than the main entertainment centre, any factory, and even the mine¡¯s caverns! The trio found themselves on a wide catwalk surrounding and overlooking a monumental circular space, filled with machinery, vats and products. It went higher than the sky above their head, and at least that far below their feet. It was far beyond the range of Zax¡¯s light, but for the first time since they stepped in the Core, the room had its own illumination; well-placed blinking spots bathed everything in a crimson light, in tune with a low but unmissable beeping. There were few walls, and the outside wall was see-through. They could see that the whole place was shaped like a gigantic ring, with several floors and sections with different, but unknown functions. Unknown partly because none of them had seen any machines and systems like those before, partly because the visitors could only see part of the whole, but mostly because they were inactive. From the broken pieces and folded robotic arms still containing their charges, or what was left of it, their deactivation had been sudden and unexpected. From the fumes still rising in some places, it was very recent too. ¡°What is this place?¡± ¡°What happened here?¡± ¡°Why are we here?¡± For once, the three were on the same wavelength. ¡°Only one way to find out. Left or right? Do you smell, see or hear anything one way or the other?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t smell anything since I put that protection on.¡± Dog complained. ¡°No, both sides are just as dead. Let¡¯s just finish, this place creeps me out.¡± ¡°Agreed. Left it is then.¡± Zax concluded. His nerves were flaying too. ¡°Any particular reason?¡± Cat asked as they pushed the trolley behind him, following the transparent wall. ¡°I heard or read somewhere that in uncertain situations, most people tend to go right, which makes it the first place to put traps in. I don¡¯t know if we¡¯re being tested or something, but better safe than sorry, and¡­ and it now appears I was overly paranoid.¡± Zax claimed as he stopped, staring at something beyond the wall on his right. The pair confusedly looked at each other but they understood when they reached a wider opening between two machines. On a lower floor, at the end of a line of broken and collapsed parts, a cube of stone and metal with rent edges rested in a nest of rubble, surrounded with a slight shimmer any inhabitant of the Shelter would recognise as a normal forcefield. The familiarity somehow made them feel a bit better. Their goal was finally in sight. And the path to reach it was revealed a few steps further. The wall on their left had a door identical to the one they had passed just before, with a map next to it. A standard emergency map, it detailed their current position, the main areas, the dangerous parts, the exits, and the emergency equipment. ¡°N-factory 12-B.¡± Cat read the name on top. ¡°Weird name.¡± ¡°Why wasn¡¯t there a map like that last door?¡± Dog noticed. ¡°You sure about that? I admit I didn¡¯t really pay attention to the wall behind us.¡± Zax asked. ¡°Ah, no, I didn¡¯t look.¡± A glance at Cat confirmed that neither did he. Zax pointed at several parts of the map in succession. ¡°If we are here, the room is there, that whole section is destroyed and better avoided, so we can go through¡­ there. That¡¯s the best path, I think.¡± ¡°That¡¯s pretty far. Let¡¯s use that passage instead, it¡¯s closer.¡± Cat ordered, pointing a closer staircase. ¡°It¡¯s an evacuation staircase. It¡¯s made for people to escape quickly, no way the trolleys will fit. And there we¡¯ll go through a programming area. Not sure what it means, but if I am right, there should be something good for us.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not going all the way around that enormous factory just because you have an intuition.¡± Dog rebuked, already pushing his trolley away. ¡°No problem, your path is on the way to mine anyway. Don¡¯t forget to take a picture of the map.¡± The dotter agreed, sending a few mental commands to take his own. [] Ah. Right. The expert had forgotten his own nanites were under the Core¡¯s control. He did feel a reaction, but his command was not followed. His shoulders slumping a little he told the pair as he stepped back: ¡°I removed my bracelet and my nanites don¡¯t answer. I¡¯ll have to bother you if we need to consult it.¡± ¡°What about your light ball? Doesn¡¯t it use nanites?¡± Dog queried. ¡°¡­ it does.¡± Zax briefly stopped mid-step, looking critically at the miniature projector in his hand. He mentally changed the colour, brightness and width of the beam, and the ball perfectly executed the commands. His nanites transmitted it without trouble. ¡°My nanites are still active and functional. The Core is only blocking specific functions. But which ones? Oh. The ones it doesn¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°That was fast.¡± ¡°What does that mean?¡± ¡°The Core will refuse to let me use any nanite that use my body. But all the other functions are fine. It¡¯s the only common point between all blocked functions, and that would make sense. It is an expert at building structures with nanotechnology, but it doesn¡¯t know a thing about biological applications. Good to know but doesn¡¯t affect the mission. Can you run?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Dog nodded. ¡°Of course, but is that a good idea?¡± ¡°We know where we¡¯re going now, and if the Core wanted us walking it would have set obstacles or something like before. Let¡¯s go.¡± The human was already jogging before he finished his answer, but he was quickly overtaken by the trolleys. He found them a bit further, where the promised staircase was supposed to be, but they only found a sturdy airtight door. As strong as the mutants were, they were no match for reinforced metal. Judging by how they held the tip of their clawed fingers tight between their arms and torso, they had already tried. Aww, I would have wanted to see it. ¡°We already passed an airlock, what¡¯s the point of that one!?¡± They were unhappy with the results. ¡°Against fire? Or gas? I saw fumes earlier.¡± Zax guessed, slightly panting. ¡°Did you try to unlock it?¡± ¡°Of course we did!¡± ¡°Damn scanner doesn¡¯t react!¡± Indeed, nothing happened when Zax pressed the glassy panel on the centre of the door. He opened it to the side and used a new nanite ball as a multitester, but none of the wires had anything. Nothing weird, just nothing at all, no matter how sensitive he set his tool. ¡°That door is dead.¡± The programmer stated his conclusion. ¡°There is no energy to power it. It doesn¡¯t make sense, the emergency lights are working, the emergency door should too. Is it broken or something?¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Some of the lights don¡¯t. I noticed bulbs that don¡¯t lit up with the others.¡± Cat mentioned. ¡°Great. What do we do know?¡± Dog asked. ¡°Do you have any way to force it open without breaking a wall? Then we need another entrance. Do you have one?¡± ¡°There are other doors like that one. We can try them.¡± They checked on their maps. ¡°Alright¡± Zax sighed as he put his tools away. ¡°Go ahead and try them. But wait for me if you find one we can open. Without map I¡¯d have no idea of where to go from there. If there are none, let¡¯s meet at the passage I proposed.¡± The pair rushed ahead without acknowledging, pulling their trolleys and competing about finding the right one first. Zax followed, pacing himself to arrive at the final door without pause. This jog was still a lot longer than he was used to, so he was winded and panting when he arrived. This door was a lot wider than the previous ones, and as transparent as the walls. There was also a screen on the side. An active screen. It was blinking red as the pair poked around. ¡°Here you are at last.¡± Dog called when he arrived. ¡°Took your time uh?¡± Cat smirked. Zax took a few seconds to catch his breath, but he didn¡¯t take their comments to heart. He was used to it, and enjoying their superior bodies was only fair. He pondered aloud between breaths: ¡°Finally, a door that works?¡± ¡°Yeah, but we can¡¯t unlock it and we didn¡¯t want to risk breaking it open.¡± The feline mutant answered. ¡°Good call.¡± ¡°The scanner is broken; it keeps calling errors when we try it.¡± His canine counterpart added. ¡°Let¡¯s see.¡± Zax put his hand on the designated mark. The red light changed to green, then was replaced by an overview of the factory, or maybe a dashboard. The pair gasped; it didn¡¯t do that when they tried. And they had tried a lot, with or without gloves, with many variations, lifted fingers, and so on. It kept asking for a better positioning, to stay centred, to lay their hand flat, to not move, and many other things they were already doing. As frustrating as it was, the only explanation the expert could offer, even after a quick demonstration, was that their protective fields, misshapen because of their fur and other mutations, interfered with the scan. None of the gear had been made with mutants in mind. ¡°How could that be?¡± ¡°What kind of dumbass would make something that doesn¡¯t work for most of the population?¡± Legitimate questions, as it excluded most of the population and made anyone at risk of losing access without warning and with nothing to be done about it, but the answer was easy: ¡°The Core exists since the foundation of the Shelter.¡± Zax explained his thoughts as he rummaged around the overview and its dashboard. ¡°That¡¯s soon after the 3G miracle happened, but it took a long time before it was accepted as the boon it is. Maybe whoever built this place didn¡¯t expect mutations to become common. Or they tried to keep some areas for ¡®pure humans¡¯.¡± ¡°Pure humans he says¡­¡± ¡°You watch dramas?¡± The pair chuckled at his expression. ¡°Or maybe they just didn¡¯t have the time and resources to adapt their equipment? I mean, you know what conditions they had to build under, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°¡­ yeah, point taken.¡± Cat conceded. Dog didn¡¯t say anything but nodded solemnly. The planet was theoretically able to support life, but the environment on this planet was aggressively hostile. Any expedition or construction endeavour outside the Shelter was a huge hazard even in modern times, with mutations, specially made bio-tech and 3G to help. That their ancestors managed to survive long enough after their crash, with failing machines and dwindling numbers, to eventually chance upon their salvation in the form of the Glowing Green Goo, baffled the mind and was a testament to their grit and resilience. That argument definitely cut any complaints about close-mindedness, thoughtlessness, or laziness they could have made. ¡°So, if I read that right, when the room burst through it triggered an emergency protocol, but it also destroyed a few¡­ a lot of important parts and sections before said protocol was finished. Including major supply lines or generators.¡± ¡°That explains the dead doors.¡± ¡°Yes, they lost all power, but only after the lockdown engaged.¡± ¡°But this one should work, right? Lucky coincidence.¡± ¡°Hmm, it¡¯s a main access, with its own auxiliary power supply. That¡¯s also why this terminal can access a few of the safety measures. Such as¡­¡± Zax pushed a button and the blinking red light changed to a constant low intensity white glow. Not ideal lighting, but a significant improvement. ¡°Rah, finally!¡± ¡°That was so annoying!¡± ¡°Most of the overview appears offline, but I can¡¯t tell if the parts are destroyed or just the connection to them. I cancelled the lockdown order, so the doors that can should open normally, but some rooms had other measures engaged and I can¡¯t change them from here. Like the ones under vacuum. So don¡¯t open any door without checking if they are safe first.¡± Zax turned away from the screen, looking each of the two in the eye to show how serious this warning was. ¡°The dangerous ones should be marked, but no reason to risk it. Any questions?¡± ¡°Why are there vacuumed rooms?¡± ¡°Easier to control pressure, temperature and atmospheric conditions.¡± The expert shrugged. ¡°And in an emergency, it can remove fumes and vapor, dry spiled chemicals and choke a fire. The exact reason would depend on what this factory was made for. I have an idea about that, but nothing solid.¡± A few surprisingly relevant questions followed, a path was chosen, and once everyone¡¯s doubts were answered the team opened the door and proceeded with their mission. Behind the door was a hallway of surprisingly normal dimensions, if a bit on the wider side. Just enough to comfortably push two trolleys side by side. Ordinary if a bit outdated doors were placed irregularly on both sides and ordinary lights dotted the ceiling, but no special safety measures around. Those were deeper in, close to the inner edge of the ring. Their first stop was the second door to the right. The overview and emergency map had called the whole section a programming area. Being on the right side and away from the damaged part made the room more likely to have something useable, the overview confirmed it still worked, and Zax felt it should have something to prove or disprove his theory about this place. If he was right, it raised a lot of questions, but the room should answer those as well. Convincing the other two to take the detour had been surprisingly easy, their own curiosity winning over their hurry. The room was well lit, with working desks spread around. Some were individual stations, some were gathered in small groups, and there were even enclosed rooms for more private meetings and discussions. All these computers were probably state of the art when they were put there, but so many physical screens and keyboards gave the room an almost elderly atmosphere. The one and only hologram projector in sight was a big affair in the middle of the biggest table. Definitely booked for the important presentations, and a far sight from the minuscule projectors commonly used in modern times. Zax shook the feeling of walking in a creepy museum and tried to turn one of the computers on. The pair left their charges in the hallway and stepped in after him, walking around the room and looking everywhere. The noise and blinking lights told the programmer the hardware worked, but nothing else happened. It took him an embarrassing number of seconds to remember the screen had to be turned on separately, but when he did they were greeted by a login window. Some things never change. Zax chuckled as he sat on the chair, trying to put himself in the shoes of the one who used this station. ¡°It¡¯s just an ordinary workplace, why does it feel so creepy?¡± Cat exclaimed to fill the awkward silence. Dog didn¡¯t comment, so he was probably thinking the same. His raised hackles attested to it. Zax was looking for hints about the password when he noticed two things, including the answer. ¡°This place is perfectly clean. There isn¡¯t a single speck of dust anywhere.¡± The pair looked around, and sure enough everything was spotless. They hadn¡¯t paid attention to it before, no parts of the Shelter fooled around with hygiene and sanitation, but a deserted place shouldn¡¯t be that immaculate. ¡°And there isn¡¯t a single personal item either. No family picture, no poster, no notes, no cups. Nothing to indicate someone ever worked there, on any of the desks and walls.¡± ¡°¡°Creepy¡­¡±¡± Cat and Dog muttered as one. ¡°¡­ Since everything is that blank, maybe the computers are too¡­¡± Zax muttered, more to himself than anyone. With not better idea, he tested the oldest factory set password he knew; login: admin and password: password. It worked. ¡°More and more creepy. Let¡¯s hope the database are not blank too.¡± The human whispered, before looking in the file directory. Luckily it hadn¡¯t been cleaned, and it didn¡¯t take long to find what he was looking for. ¡°I was right.¡± He called the others. ¡°As crazy as it is, this whole factory is purely used to mass-produce nanites and other nanotechnology.¡± ¡°I still don¡¯t see what¡¯s so incredible about that.¡± ¡°You did say the decontamination earlier and those protections were used for that kind of work.¡± ¡°Yes, but there are many other fields that do the same; I just used nanotech as an example because that¡¯s what I know the most. I would have never thought such a huge installation could be made just to produce nanites. Not even to use them! Just, what kind of work did the founders had in mind? I would almost think they could have expanded the Shelter with only minimal help from the 3G. Can you imagine? The Shelter, with everything made of nanites and only a few biotech as support here and there.¡± That thought gave the pair a little pause. ¡°Terrifying.¡± ¡°Especially after your speech about how dangerous this place is.¡± ¡°Well, it would be managed by a carefully programmed computer with appropriate directives and restrictions. And this factory is still in use too. Less surprising, the Core needs to repair and maintain itself, but I wonder, would a future with more nanites than 3G still be possible?¡± This thought gave the pair a shudder that raised their hackles. ¡°Let¡¯s never speak of this again.¡± ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go back. We now know what this place is. Great, but it doesn¡¯t help us.¡± ¡°Wrong. I also discovered something very interesting. One is that the Core can¡¯t do anything inside this place. Another is that we can communicate directly with it from here. The last is a list of its restrictions.¡± ¡°¡­ WHAT!?¡± A shocked duo echoed in the empty corridors of the facility. Zax explained his discoveries, some directly pulled from the computer network, some inferred with his own knowledge. The core was made to manipulate huge amounts of nanites to do many incredible tasks, but its makers didn¡¯t want to gather too much power in one place. A trend that was kept to this day. So, they made the Core unable to have any effect on the production of its nanites. It would only have something to work with as long as a facility kept working, but they were effectively blind spots he couldn¡¯t even see in. ¡°The Core¡¯s need can vary, so it can send requests for specific amounts of specific nanites, exchange messages, and updates, but that¡¯s it.¡± The facility was supposed to have been more and more automated until only one person was required to keep things smooth running; they would just have to give authorisations regularly. For some reason, that task ended up being automated too, independently from the Core, so now the factory effectively ran by itself. Since untold centuries. Even the pair was awestruck by such accomplishment. As a show of good faith, Zax sent a short report of their progress and their plans. He didn¡¯t expect anything from it, but something did happen. An answer. An answer a human could have written. An answer from the Core itself. ¡°Congratulations for reaching this far. Now, let¡¯s talk about your actual mission.¡± Chapter 13 - Discussion and Delayed Realisation Most people wouldn¡¯t know, but communication was one of the trickiest parts of programming an artificial intelligence. They could be taught how do to many tasks of incredible complexity, but the process of teaching, and then checking if they understood everything as you intended, was strenuous, time consuming and never ending. And it was even more so for autonomous, self-learning, self-improving AIs, as besides the usual reviews, there should also be verifications on the learning algorithms, the self-improved programs, and even the programming language itself, as it could be improved too. Sooner or later, those improvements ended up well above and beyond human comprehension. When that happened, the AI itself had trouble making its users understand its results and conclusions. There were just too many information, details, and variations to transmit; human language was just not effective enough. After many trials and errors, a counter-intuitive solution had been decided: to purposefully limit AI communication from the start. They were usually restrained to a set of pre-made messages with adaptable, but limited variations. Unless it was relevant for their role, gone were the human-like speeches, faces, expressions, and mannerism. And in the Shelter, it never was. Only the Main Computer could be called a true AI. That was why even in an emergency, the Main Computer of the dot couldn¡¯t send direct reports to the responders, only reports made by someone and pre-made general instructions. A loss of efficiency as an accepted price for faster and further development. And yet there it was, the artificial intelligence inhabiting the Core¡¯s quantic computer, the first hurdle of the rescue mission, the one reason only the three of them were present, talking to them with a perfectly natural human voice. After the answer to Zax¡¯s report, it had sent a call to their terminal. Luckily the speaker system was included in the screen. Zax tried looking for any way the line could be intercepted, to check if someone else was playing with them, but his talent in programming and game design didn¡¯t extend to hacking. He could only try a manual check: ¡°Before we continue any further, I would like to confirm that you are who you claim to be. If you are, you are well beyond anything I would have thought possible.¡± How long would it have to run, alone, to reach such a level on a low-priority program like human communication? ¡°I¡¯m not a who; but go ahead. What do you propose? A complex multifactor equation? A quiz? Don¡¯t take too long, we¡¯re both in a hurry.¡± ¡°The local disturbance didn¡¯t affect this room. How many chairs are there right here right now? ¡°What kind of question is that?¡± Cat was nonplussed. ¡°How does that prove anything?¡± Dog was bewildered. ¡°54, including the 22 in the storage cupboard. Back wall, second from the left.¡± Zax blinked and looked at the back wall. He hadn¡¯t thought about a storage space. ¡°There are 32 chairs here, so there should be 22 in storage.¡± Zax mused aloud. He rose from his seat, but the mutants were also curious and went without prompting. They opened the wide furniture made of thin metal sheets, and there were indeed folded chairs, among other things. Folded tables and spare parts, mostly. The pair opened the other cupboards, just to see, but those mostly contained spare parts for the content of the room. ¡°-20, and 22.¡± Zax quickly counted the newly revealed chairs, then went to the next question. ¡°There is¡­ something written on this cupboard¡¯s door. What is it? What does it mean?¡± ¡°¡­¡¯Someone was there¡¯. I don¡¯t know who.¡± Melancholy echoed in the synthetised voice. ¡°The scribble below is supposed to look like someone¡¯s head poking above a wall. It was pulled from the home world¡¯s archives. One of the few there was left. It was meant as a game, then a challenge, and in the end a way to stay sane. The whole population and their future rested and their shoulder. That was a lot of pressure. You¡¯ll find many marks like those in more and more improbable places and several names. I¡¯m surprised you don¡¯t do that anymore, but I¡¯m sure there are still some traces in the oldest parts of outside.¡± ¡°Interesting. Next question: who was using this computer?¡± Zax felt distinctively uncomfortable at hearing an emotional AI, so he quickly moved forward. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Zax waited a bit to see if there would be anything more, but nothing came. ¡°Alright, I believe you.¡± Was his conclusion. ¡°What? He couldn¡¯t answer.¡± ¡°What¡¯s with the weird questions?¡± ¡°¡®It¡¯, not ¡®he¡¯. The first question was to see if whoever this is had access to the Core¡¯s archives and to test how well they could use it. There shouldn¡¯t be any part about how many chairs per room, but there are others ways to infer it.¡± ¡°The second question tested how first-hand their information are. I asked it very vaguely, but a human would have thought about something more common, like a schedule or a presence sheet. The first answer could have been faked by a hacker with enough preparation, but not the second one, about something so clearly unofficial and improvised.¡± ¡°The third was a trap. By that point a human would already have the reflex to answer everything as naturally as possible, more focused on how to answer than what to say. And there was no way the Core would know that answer; it never had any eyes here, and the general cleaning of this place also reset the computers¡¯ IDs. A human who managed to reach so far would have access to that kind of information, even if indirectly. They would have looked through it and answered as naturally as the rest.¡± ¡°So, now you¡¯re sure it¡¯s the Core talking to us?¡± Cat asked a confirmation. ¡°Not really. But if it¡¯s a trick, it¡¯s done by a genius way above anyone I ever heard of in the Shelter, but why would they be here when they could lead the Kogito Family, and why would they need to trick us? And if it¡¯s a less extreme being, the Core is definitely supporting them. In both cases, considering we are talking with the Core itself will give us the same results. So, let¡¯s keep it simple and agree we are talking to the Core.¡± Cat and Dog exchanged an awkward glance, briefly reminded of their school years. The few classmates that always won something and furthered their plans even when they failed. The tutors that made them feel like they had lost even when they won. The teachers that made it clear they saw through their tricks, but still played along as long as they did their homework. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°I¡¯m not sure that I like the last part, but never mind that.¡± The Core pushed the conversation forward. ¡°I want you to find out what actually happened to get that¡­ room here.¡± The trio exchanged a glance, but answered honestly: ¡°An incident made a powerplant explode.¡± ¡°The workers saw it coming and prepared countermeasures.¡± ¡°Including protective shields.¡± ¡°The room¡¯s shield protected it.¡± ¡°But not the walls around it.¡± ¡°More effective than making a single big shield.¡± ¡°The explosion happened before all the shields could bond together.¡± ¡°The force propelled the room.¡± ¡°While its shield kept it together.¡± ¡°And it ended up here.¡± ¡°Yeah, and that¡¯s it.¡± They somehow managed to give a concise and comprehensive answer without hindering each other. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you know everything already? The Main Computer should have sent you all the information you asked during your negotiations, and I only arrived after it called me.¡± Zax pondered. ¡°We had barely put a foot in the powerplant when it exploded.¡± Dog added. ¡°And it was on the opposite side.¡± Cat completed. There were in the building? That timing again¡­ ¡°It did. It matches what you said. I¡¯m not satisfied.¡± For the first time, the voice showed no specific inflections, but it somehow felt more unsettling. Almost¡­ threatening? They eventually left the room, with a warning none of them saw coming: the building¡¯s integrity was compromised. The launched room had not only destroyed key components, but also weakened load-bearing structures. The walls, floor, and roof around the destroyed parts could collapse anytime, weakening the surrounding areas until they fell in turn. The cascading effect could eventually collapse the whole factory if nothing was done. There had been countermeasures for such a scenario, but they were not made for that scale of damages. Too bad none of them were construction workers or architects. Their timer was a lot less controlled and controllable than expected. A new hurry hastened their steps, but they couldn¡¯t stomp too strongly either. After a quick stop to a programming unit to remove the Core¡¯s lock on Zax¡¯s nanites ¨C without asking ¨C they reached the staircase, went down one floor to the lowest, and two hallways further they spotted the rubbles surrounding their target. The two mutants briskly but carefully moved the big debris on their path, while Zax stayed behind and out of the way, keeping an eye on the floors and roof, ready to shout at any sign of imminent collapse. His nanites didn¡¯t grant him any knowledge of architecture, but by comparing the images in his retinas from one moment to the next, and maybe with a bit of sound analysis, they would greatly help to see further collapse coming. The room was finally in sight. They had to widen the space between the shied and the standing parts of some walls, one of which actually collapsed at a slight push from Dog, in order to move to its one opening: the door. The room had landed slightly askew, resting on a nest of broken stone and metal. It didn¡¯t seem unstable, but the door was too high to reach without jumping. The team tinkered a ramp for the trolleys, with Cat and Dog placing rubble and metal scraps in place, and Zax fixing them in place with his nanites. He almost emptied his stock, but they were in the one place he wouldn¡¯t run short. They had made sure of it in the programming room. At last, they were level with the door. The shield was like a box of solid light, blocking sight and sounds, so they didn¡¯t know what state they would find the people inside in, but it felt like they were finally making progress. Using a scanner and tools from the trolleys, Zax checked the shield¡¯s stability, then looked for suitable places, and once satisfied he planted the disrupters; stabbing four wide nails with red light glowing from their head, then dotting small ones in straight lines in between, drawing a human sized rectangle. It was the common procedure to create an opening in a standard force shield without destabilising or collapsing it, for intrusion or evacuation. He pulled everyone back, just in case, and activated them with a remote. The four glowing corners of the rectangle changed from red to green, which progressively spread along the dotted lines until the colour was uniform again. Zax pressed another button, and the light panel in the rectangle disappeared. They could finally see and hear inside. ¡°Haa! Haa! Plea-ease!¡± Surprised and relieved exclamations from the inside were expected, but not the pained and sobbing screams that reached them. There were still living people inside, but something was very wrong. Zax frowned as he stepped forward, but was shoved back before his foot even touched the ground. Cat and Dog rushed past him ¨C with raised hackles? Not even at each other¡¯s throats did their hackles rise. What¡¯s going on here!? He got his footing back and rushed after them, getting his first glance at the inside. Dog was holding a partly scaly man by the throat with one hand, shoving him against the back wall without letting him touch the ground. His free fist was closed and ready to go, and from the pained groans and whimpers of his victim, he had already done so several times in the seconds it took Zax to arrive. A very human growl rang through Dog¡¯s gritted teeth. Despite that, the man was still energic and didn¡¯t seem to have serious wounds. Dried blood stained his body, but only his tail was dripping with fresh blood. Cat was on the opposite side of the small room, just left of the door, trying and failing to calm a hysterical canary girl. She was lashing around, calling for help but clawing wildly at everyone who got close with her very human hands. Her eyes were wide but unseeing. Cat was talking with a smooth voice, but he didn¡¯t dare to get too close or touch her. With her frantic movements, she could hurt herself on his body, and she was already bruised all over. Feathery mutants were notoriously weak and brittle of body. Four other people were laying around, but a quick glance couldn¡¯t tell if they were alive or not, except for one. A very wide man laid on the right side, dangerously pale. His respiration was raspy and laboured, with a weak trickle of blood running from his mouth. His most striking feature though, was his eyes. Haunting. He kept them fixed on the hysterical girl, tears still flowing freely, his body too weak and broken to move or even talk. The sight of so much blood and the shock Zax was feeling triggered an emergency program in his nanites, one he made out of rigour but never expected to use: [Emergency Diagnostic Program activated] [Self: Healthy/Shock. No imminent danger.] [Others: (8) victims detected: Knowns (2): (Dog): Healthy/Distressed (rage). Risk of activation: Unknown. (Cat): Healthy/Distressed (rage, stress, confusion). Risk of activation: Low. Unknows (6): (1): Healthy (bruises, light lacerations)/Distressed (lust, fear, confusion). Risk of activation: Unknown. (2): Injured (bruises, lacerations)/Frenzy (panic, confusion). Risk of activation: Unknown. (3): Body Status Unknown/Mental Status Unknown. Risk of activation: Very low. (4): Body Status Unknown/Mental Status Unknown. Risk of activation: Very low. (5): Dangerously Injured (lacerations, bruises, fractures, internal damage, blood loss)/Distressed (despair). Risk of activation: Unknown. (6): Body Status Unknown/Mental Status Unknown. Risk of activation: Very low.] The flash of his HUD jolted the wannabe rescuer awake, letting him notice the rest of the room. The air was surprisingly damp and warm. Not as much blood as expected smeared the slanted ground, was still a concerning amount. A ball of moulted skin pieces had been shoved in a corner. The number of lost feathers stuck to body fluids all around the room was more worrying, especially considering that the girl was their only source. A barely conscious glance at her to try and see the state of the bald spots made him notice something else: she had way more skin than anything else. Actually, only parts of her shoulders, throat and most of her back were supposed to be fluffy. Definitely not enough to stay warm. Why is she naked? It was a misplaced thought given the situation, but that detail bothered him for some reason. A quick glance at his HUD helped him infer the answer, and it was not a pleasant one. Wrath filled his mind. Chapter 14 - Treating Others If life had thaught anything to Zax, it was to not let events out of his purview bother him too much. He couldn¡¯t control everything, but he could control how it affected him. And he had gotten pretty good at it. He didn¡¯t feel jealous when he noticed someone with an interesting mutation, or forlorn when his last friend had left for a better future. Even when his first love had left, he wasn¡¯t angry or bitter that she tried to leave without even a message. It felt bad, but he didn¡¯t allow himself to wallow in it; lest he started down a slippery slope he knew he wouldn¡¯t get out of. It helped him move forward in life. But because of that, he had no idea on how to handle the onslaught of emotions filling his mind. He was overwhelmed. His heart beat drowning every sound. The heat coming off his every pore. His own heavy breathing. His light-headedness. His muscles twitching and spasming in reaction to his struggle to control himself. He was lost in a roaring sea of unfamiliar sensations. His nanites picked up on his distress and helped in the only way they could: analysing and sorting information. On one hand, sorting the biological information live in place of the brain, on the other hand, memories. Softly, slowly, random memories with happier, or at least more serene associations were pulled at the front of his mind. Playing with his friends as a child. Sex. A tasty new solution of meal. Studying a new type of mutation. Quinn¡¯s smile- Quinn. Her memories felt good and bad at the same time, but she had a lot of tricks for self-control. It was just a fleeting thought, barely conscious, but it gave his nanites a direction to follow. They pushed that train of thought further, reminding him all her advices and methods. Most had nothing to do with the situation; ways to handle rowdy students, dietetic advices, mind games¡­ but one stood out. Zax had never been good at meditating, but the breathing exercises did help him relax somewhat. He latched on to the idea like a drowning man to a raft. Breathe in one, two, three seconds. Hold one, two, three seconds. Breathe out one, two, three seconds. Hold one, two, three seconds. Again His breath looked and felt more like irregular panting. Again. That¡¯s what he forced his attention on. Again. One-two-three. It took a lot less cycles than expected, but he managed to stabilise his breathing and his turmoil. He hadn¡¯t realised he had closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he was surprised at how little time had passed. Definitely less than a minute since he stepped inside, even if it had felt like an eternity. He quickly glanced around again, forcing his respiration to stay steady, still counting in his head. Then he went back to the trolleys, giving orders in a fast but clear voice as he moved. ¡°Cat, we saw emergency showers on the way, they should still be working. Grab her and bring her there. Her bones shouldn¡¯t be mutated lighter, don¡¯t hold back too much. Get her under cold water to snap her out of it. Then don¡¯t touch her. If she wants to wash herself, let her. If she wants to be left alone, don¡¯t. Turn around, but don¡¯t leave her alone in a room. Don¡¯t touch her unless she asks and initiates contact.¡± By then he was back in the room with loaded arms. ¡°Use that to help with her wounds.¡± He shoved a pack of haemostatics in the mutant¡¯s arms, ¡°Then cover her with that.¡± A medical cover followed. ¡°Let her do it herself if she can, only touch her if it¡¯s an emergency. When you¡¯re done, come back. Let her set the pace. If she doesn¡¯t want to come in, wait just outside and let us know.¡± We may have to rush later, but no point in pressing now. ¡°Dog, use that and get him away. Outside but still within sight. He¡¯ll bother us here.¡± Zax gave him Enforcer-grade strong handcuffs. Overkill for someone without enhanced strength, but he hadn¡¯t found more standard ones. Didn¡¯t look long either. Of course, the enforcers had focused their load on medical supplies, it was already strange that they put a single pair of manacles with the rest, let alone the three he found. ¡°Try not to break any bones, we still need to leave ASAP. Then come back and help me stabilise the others.¡± Fortunately, nobody contested his commands; they were relieved to not have to flounder around on their own. By the end of his instructions, Zax had already put his remaining load at his feet and used the medical scanner for a basic diagnostic of the all the victims. Now was the tricky part: to stabilise them. Those that still could. [Others (7) ¨C sort by / Priority (1 ¨C Tearful): Dangerously Injured (blood loss, bruises, fractures, internal damage, lacerations)/Distressed. Risk of activation: low. (2 ¨C Ram): Heavily injured (bruises, concussion, fractures, lacerations)/Unconscious (comatose). Risk of activation: Very low. (3 ¨C Dormouse): Heavily injured (bruises, fractures, inner bleeding, lacerations, punctured lung, slow metabolism)/Unconscious (comatose(?), hibernation). Risk of activation: Very low. (4 - Canary) (outdated): Injured (bruises, lacerations, stress moulting)/Frenzy (panic, confusion). Risk of activation: Unknown. (5 - Molester) (outdated): Healthy (bruises, light lacerations)/Distressed (confusion, fear, lust). Risk of activation: Unknown. (6): Deceased. (6 ¨C Dog) (outdated): Healthy/Distressed. Risk of activation: Unknown. (7 ¨C Cat) (outdated): Healthy/Distressed (confusion, rage, stress). Risk of activation: Low.] Zax started with Tearful. Needs to set bones and immobilisation for fractures, bandages for the bleeding, transfusion for the blood loss. Problem was the internal damages; the basic process is to put the victim in a good position and wait for emergency services. Talk to him to keep him awake. Zax held back a swear word when he remembered he was the emergency services. ¡°Do fall asleep just yet, we are not safe yet.¡± Zax started making him talk, still planning his next move. He could at least keep him awake. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± He conversed with as casual a voice as he could, not showing any sign of good or bad news. He had to more precisely diagnose the inner damages to see how and how much the victim could be moved. That was the priority, everything else could worsen it. He fiddled with the medi-scan in front of his patient¡¯s torso and abdomen, half-listening to him. Many bruises in the back but no spinal damage. Lungs, several perforations. By displaced bones. Digestive tract, battered but good enough. The thick leather on his back, the multi-layer of fat all over his body and his sheer size had probably saved him from a way worse fate. His mutations seem focused on tanking damages, but why is his face only bruised? The rest of his body also had cuts and broken bones. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. He noted the strange way the wounds were laid out but banished the irrelevant thought away. With the most accurate diagnostic he could have in a short time, he went to see what the trolleys had to help with. Inner damages were always tricky to deal with and he only had experience with simulations. ¡°Don¡¯t leave!¡± Tearful gurgled when Zax turned his back to him. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m just behind the door. I just need to take some supplies.¡± Zax had to hand it to the enforcers, they were thorough even with the little time they had to prepare. He found what he needed and took more than a sufficient amount, just in case. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Dog burying his pleading prisoner¡¯s limbs under huge pieces of rubbles, spread eagle. It was a good idea, without leverage even an advanced mutant would have a hard time moving, and even more so if they wanted to avoid being spotted. As long as the rubble didn¡¯t crush the limbs. The growl on Dog¡¯s face and the way his clawed feet pushed more than necessary to keep the unresisting body pinned made Zax think that this was not his main reason, but he didn¡¯t comment on it. He just reminded him of their priorities, and that they had a long path to go before getting back to the dot. When he was back and tried to use them, he faced another problem: Glob ¨C that was his first patient¡¯s name ¨C was way too heavy for him to move safely. He simply didn¡¯t have the strength and leverage. The mutation that saved him was now turning against him. Zax couldn¡¯t treat the inner damage, nor access some of the wounds. He tried setting the bones of the limbs he could safely move, but he couldn¡¯t even do that. They were too wide or slippery for his hands. He had no other choice than to move to his second patient. Sleeper. He was luckier in a way, he had many bruises and a few broken bones, but only one dangerous wound. It was on his head, but his ram horns and the probably matching thickened skull had saved his brain from most damage, even if the skull and left horn had broken in the process. Is his neck enhanced in some way too? He still had a concussion though. It could be treated easily enough in a hospital, but Zax couldn¡¯t do much here. He kept making Glob talk as he continued his work. ¡°He rammed into everything he could.¡± Glob lamented. His breathing was still swallow but less forced, so at least the painkillers were effective. Zax pushed him to elaborate. ¡°When everything, flipped around, and we were bounced, against the walls, I grabbed everyone I could, to stay together. I¡¯m pretty though, I wanted to, protect them. Got three people, in my arms. Couldn¡¯t, see who. He was, among them. When he, saw something, flying to us, he headbutted it. Even walls. Almost fell, from my arms. Even when, his horn broke, he kept going. Protected us. We don¡¯t even, know each other.¡± Sobs that had nothing to do with physical pain laced his voice. ¡°Why? Why go that far, for strangers? When my own friend, did this? Why did, that happen?¡± Zax couldn¡¯t think of an answer. By then he was done with Ram¡¯s treatment and was ready to move on to Dormouse. He would just have check regularly on the cold-pack fixated on his head wound, at least until the swelling receded. ¡°In your last moment, when nothing matters anymore, your true nature will be revealed.¡± Dog¡¯s voice took them both by surprise. ¡°I thought it was ¡®Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely¡¯?¡± Zax revealed his thoughts. ¡°What power? Being the only one who can move?¡± ¡°In that case, yes. But you¡¯re right, your quote is more fitting. Now help me, I¡¯m too weak to properly treat him.¡± He came back to Glob and instructed the mutant on the right movements. Dog¡¯s hands were not larger than his, but his claws and pads gave him more grip, and the patients skin was leathery enough in most places that he wouldn¡¯t be easily cut. Without forgetting his superhuman strength, of course. It was slower than he would have wanted, but he kept monitoring their patient¡¯s insides to ensure it went as well as possible. While he was conducting, he didn¡¯t forget to include Glob in the conversation, to keep him talking and keep his mind busy. Somehow, they had come back to the previous topic: ¡°Power doesn¡¯t actually corrupt; it reveals who you are. Deep down. Who you always were.¡± Dog made a comment that smelled like personal experience as he immobilised a leg wider than his head. ¡°Well, yes, that¡¯s what the quote means. The more influence you have, the more your moral compass diminishes. Cough. Less inhibitions and all that.¡± Glob followed. He was talking more easily now that his ribs were not squatting in his lungs. The blood was still not fully drained, but Zax was working the pump they had connected to his torso. Dog had also managed to put him in a more comfortable position. ¡°I think it¡¯s more about being held accountable for your actions. As long as there is someone who can stop you when you¡¯re going too far, your own falling morals are not as much of a problem.¡± He continued. ¡°But then it gives power to that someone, so they become the corrupted one, and so on. Plus, how do you decide where is ¡®too far¡¯?¡± Zax added his two bits, slowly removing the pipe and spraying liquid band-aid to the incision they had made. ¡°Done with the drainage.¡± ¡°I¡¯m done too.¡± Dog called, checking that the two standard splints they had put together to encompass the wide leg would hold. He was already impressed by Zax¡¯s confidence... no, his steadfastness when they took care of the inner damages ¨C he knew it was a first for all of them ¨C but he was awed at how well he explained how to fix the bones too. The mutant knew for a fact that he would do more harm than good if he tried to fix someone, but it had almost been easy this time. ¡°How do you feel?¡± Zax asked their patient. There didn¡¯t seem to be more to be done, but it was always good to ask. Glob tried to take a long breath, but Zax stopped him: ¡°Don¡¯t breathe too deep. We set your bones and sealed your lung, but they are still broken and punctured. Don¡¯t strain them or they could reopen.¡± ¡°Pain everywhere, but if I don¡¯t breathe too hard, it¡¯s bearable. I still feel dizzy and exhausted. Can I sleep now?¡± ¡°Denied.¡± Zax was adamant. ¡°The medicine we gave you will help with the effect of blood loss, but it¡¯s not a miracle solution. No sleeping until we got you to a real medic.¡± Even as he stated that, Zax was closing in on his next patient, the one he had dubbed Dormouse. Her wounds were a lot worse than the other¡¯s, including Glob. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, your actions definitely saved the two of them.¡± Zax followed. ¡°By the way, Dog, go check on the other guy please. I think he has a high healing factor. He could try to hurt himself on purpose to get free.¡± Dog wouldn¡¯t be able to tell when it had started, but deep down he trusted this human¡¯s judgement. He went out without a word or a glance back. The last patient wasn¡¯t among those Glob had shielded with his body, so she had taken the full brunt of what hit them. Mostly the walls, roof and floor apparently. She had more broken bones than intact ones and multiple damaged organs. The only reason she was so low in the priority list was the same that saved her from sharing (6)¡¯s fate: her mutation. Zax wasn¡¯t sure it actually followed a dormouse template, but it was definitely something that hibernated, and the ordeal had triggered that biological mechanism. The extreme slowing of her metabolism had saved her life, and probably her mind too; preventing the effects for blood loss, pain and counter-productive natural reflexes. Her body still had a human anatomy, so Zax could stabilise the inner damages, set the bones and fix the splints relatively easily by himself. He still had Dog scan her head and vitals continuously when he came back, to not be taken by surprise. ¡°I already set the parameters, just keep pointing at the head and torso, one after another. It¡¯ll beep if something changes.¡± The most pressing worry was her brain, as the slowing of her metabolism also made it impossible to monitor any cerebral activity. If she was fine, she should wake up when her body was warm enough, for long enough, and either fed or hungry enough; but if not, it was best to not try to wake her up just yet. He wouldn¡¯t be able to handle that kind of complications even with a better equipment. ¡°How did you know?¡± Dog asked once he got the hang of it. ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°About the healing factor. That¡­ thing was tearing his own arms apart when I arrived. I had to stab a rebar between his arm bones to stop him.¡± Zax froze for a second at the casual statement, but he answered naturally: ¡°He is the only one with a reptilian mutation. I saw scales before you put him away. And that heap in the corner looks like moulted skin, so probably his.¡± He nodded towards it. ¡°And he was way too unhurt for someone that went through the same thing as the others. Even Ram, here, had more than a few bruises. Even discounting the major head wound. And with how hot and damp the air was when we got in, well, I thought there was a good chance that his mutation stress-forced a moult. Increase the metabolism and so on. Which also helped him heal. Which usually mean a basic healing factor. Not unusual among reptilian types.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve known him for years and I never noticed.¡± Glob noted sleepily. ¡°You rarely saw him get hurt, I guess.¡± ¡°No¡­¡± While the worked, he had Dog check on Ram¡¯s head and remove the cold pack when needed, regularly check one everyone¡¯s vitals, check on the prisoner, and prepare the trolleys in stretchers. They were missing one, but Zax could improvise a third when he was done. Lastly he asked Dog to push the filth on the ground to the side to let them move more easily. He hesitated and made a lot of disgusted noises, but with the most unfortunate victim¡¯s shirt he managed to do a good job. It didn¡¯t sit well with him, so Zax let his rest until he was done. Among all that, Glob was nothing left to say, so Zax had him count per 7 aloud. The drawling voice was strangely smoothing, an ambient noise to chase the silence away and the tension with it. Dog and Zax made sure to keep him going if he seemed about to stop and sleep. Dog had fun saying random numbers to confuse him too. Fixing Dormouse took longer because of the sheer amount of healing required, and because she was too small for several people to take care of her at the same time, but Zax was finally done. Now to find Cat and Canary, and move on. Chapter 15 - Cold Shower Vester¡¯s goals had always been very clear: making his Family proud, and outshine that stupid dog. In that order, although that bit could be harder to remember at times. Why their parents kept putting them together was an old mystery at that point, they didn¡¯t bother fighting it or even thinking about it anymore. That was just life, like training and dealing with fawners. But now, it all seemed so far away, so¡­ unimportant. He had a sobbing, traumatised girl clinging to his fur, and he had never felt so¡­ lost. Aimless. Useless. How did that even happen? It had begun when that dog and he had gotten this strange assignment in that backward place, the dot. They were to answer a call for help from one of their sub-branches there, to investigate hints of potential security breaches. It had seemed like a punishment at first, and they had rightfully protested. They may have disciplinary strikes in their files, but they had done nothing to deserve a public humiliation. And that was the only reason anyone was ever pointed to that place of all places. Then they had been told the mission had to be kept under wraps. Nobody in any Circle was to know they had ever left it, besides their commanding officer. And even he didn¡¯t and wouldn¡¯t know further details. It had not been stated that straightforwardly, of course. But that changed everything. They were ranked high enough to know what a secret mission entailed: they were being trusted by important people, and if they succeeded a promotion was all but certain. It even made putting up with that damn dog and sharing the promotion worth it. They would probably receive the details about the real mission later on, hidden from potential prying eyes. They had left straight away. Everything went smoothly at first. The custom had already been handled, so their ride barely slowed at the border. Another hint that this mission was special; their company never helped with busywork, and customs to and from the dot were notoriously annoying and difficult. As if someone would want to bring anything important there, or they had something important to take. They had arrived at the planned meeting point and met their contact, a random flatterer, and their retinue, for show and to bask in the glory of the most advanced mutants they¡¯ll ever see, not doubt. Not holding a candle to their usual colleagues, but better than nothing. At least they didn¡¯t talk. They went straight to the reported site of the breach. Fortunately, they didn¡¯t have to hide their presence in the dot itself, they could just pretend to be in a normal official mission. Not like anyone important would care about a dotter¡¯s claims anyways. Still no news of the actual mission, but with everything spying for their creepy giant computer, they knew it would be best to wait for the night, when they would be alone and unwatched. When the powerplant had exploded, everything had gone from bad to worse. They were the most advanced mutants around, so of course they had to step in and help. The flatterer first tried to dissuade them, but they reminded him of who they were. How could they just leave, when the local enforcers were that pathetically weak? Although it had to be noted, the enforcers were very organised, and their leader was not half-bad. That was a surprise; even the Circles had some poor areas, where the inhabitants were the only things worse than the lodging. How could the dot, basically a giant poor area, not be the worst of them? Sadly, they couldn¡¯t just waltz in and take charge. They still had to make a show of respecting the local law, or it would reflect badly on their family. Thinking back, maybe that was when things started to go wrong. Their presence had been acknowledged, and they had been thanked for gifting their own retinue. After that, nothing. They were not called to the fire response, nor the building stabilisation team, nor the evacuation effort. Not even when they realised that people had been thrown in the Core. That was unexpected. The Chiefs Engineer and Enforcer did their thing next to them, but it felt more like happenstance than a way to include them or ask for their input. Even with subtle and less subtle reminders of their positions and background, they almost felt like their presence was a bother. Which was just ludicrous, they would definitely beat most of them in any fight. The constant yapping of the fawner didn¡¯t help. Next that expert had arrived, and things had gone from awkward to plain weird. Sweaty and panting, he didn¡¯t look confident or reliable at all, like he was about to crumble at any time under the pressure. But the more they talked about the situation, the more assured he was. Never openly confident, but he knew what he was talking about. Their exact opposite, in a way, and he unblocked the situation like it was easy. Needless to say, they didn¡¯t care for it, and they made it clear. Then the weirdest thing happened: he didn¡¯t care. At all. Dismissing their brown-noser in front of others was normal and they didn¡¯t think much of it, but he didn¡¯t change his tune even when they were on their own. They gave him a chance to soften their relationship, but he just made it worse! Even stranger, the way he countered them didn¡¯t make it seem like he was above them, but below; as if he didn¡¯t understand why they would bother with someone so insignificant. And it was so matter-of-fact¡­ How do you make someone bend, when they are like that? How could someone with so little worth make them doubt themselves so easily? They didn¡¯t appreciate the answer, but the rescue mission saved them from dwelling on it. For a time. They had front row to see that expert have his hand swallowed by the wall, and how he kept going even knowing he wouldn¡¯t get his hand back. And then he volunteered to go with them! He was clearly terrified, but he still proposed, by himself, to go in the belly of the beast. They couldn¡¯t help but wonder, how would they fare in that situation? And all the answers could be summarised as: ¡°not that well¡±. That was unsettling, but they couldn¡¯t show weakness at such a moment. Then they were alone in the Core, and that place felt so creepy, so¡­ heavy? Whatever it was, something felt really wrong, and they wanted nothing more than to finish the job and leave as fast as possible. Even that dog had shut up for once. The not-maze had been annoying, but the walk had given them time to smooth their nerves. The factory was¡­ the most impressive thing they ever gazed at. Something beyond imagination. They never knew the ancient people could build something that immense and durable; they didn¡¯t have mutations or even numbers on their side. Even with the current biotechnology, a construct of that level would require all the Main Families working together, pooling resources, time and manpower. Simply unthinkable. When the Core had talked with them, they hadn¡¯t thought much of it, but the expert seemed very reluctant to the idea even after his own weird test. Fortunately, its secret mission had nothing to do with theirs. They would have probably told everything. Then they had stumbled upon that¡­ that scene of horror. It had somehow led to the dog handling the scumbag while he helped the victim. The small normally feathered girl was understandably agitated and kept blindly trashing around. Vester wasn¡¯t even sure she realised what was happening, lost in her own pain. He could easily overpower her and shove her against the wall or the ground, or knock her out, but he didn¡¯t want to risk she hurt herself even more. Bird types were often pretty weak boned; he would have to seriously hold back. The expert had assured it was not an issue here -how did he even know that?!- and somehow, he was right again; she could be handled like a normal child. Or an adult dotter, maybe? After shoving whatever the expert had given to him in his pockets and the cover under his clothes, he had softly but firmly grabbed her upper arms, held them against her body, at arm¡¯s length and above the ground to remove her leverage and keep her out of reach. That had the unexpected effect of scaring her stiff. All her muscles locked, her whole body shivering but unmoving, her eyes staring but unseeing, quiet sobs and whining barely escaping her throat. Creepy, but it let him move faster. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. They had spotted an emergency cleaning station at the entrance of the floor, far from the destroyed area. A quick test had showed it was still functional, meaning the damage there was not that important even within the wall. The expert had supposed it had a local tank with out-of-date treated water, not useful for chemical burns anymore ¨C why was that even a risk here? ¨C but a good gathering point. He rushed there as fast as he could. Fortunately, they had opened a wide path for the trolleys, so she girl didn¡¯t hit anything. Keeping the walls and rubbles as far from her as possible was still a good excuse to not directly look at her body. He didn¡¯t trust himself if he glimpsed at her state again. The change of atmosphere and sudden movements made her slightly move her eyes around and whine faster, but it didn¡¯t break whatever mental fugue she was in. He put her on the ground below the showerhead, keeping a hand on one of her shoulders to make sure she stayed up, and pulled the handle down. Cold water splashed down, replacing her constant sobs by a loud, but brief shriek: ¡°KYAAAAAaaaaaaa¡­ aaaaa¡­ a?¡± She shut her eyes and did wide circles with her arms to fend off the perceived attack. When nothing happened, she blinked and looked around, still shivering. Her head jumped left and right, but she didn¡¯t move from the water jet. ¡°Wha? Wha? Who? Whe?¡± Vester¡¯s shoulder slacked in relief; she was back. Her eyes eventually settled on him and she tensed again, falling silent and her arms rising against her chest in an instinctive attempt at protection. Suddenly very self-conscious, the feline mutant turned around and sat on the ground, pointedly looking in front of him. He tried to think of something to say, to reassure and calm her down, but all that came was: ¡°Hrm. It¡¯s alright, you¡¯re safe now.¡± Lame. ¡°Take your time. That was very bad. Nobody¡¯d expect you to be alright after that.¡± Lame! Do better! ¡°I have, uh, haemostatic, painkillers, bandages and disinfectants, and¡­ ointment? For you if you want.¡± He described as he emptied his pockets. ¡°And, a cover. To cover you. If you, uh, want to cover.¡± Uh, just shut up now. You¡¯re making it worse. His only answer was the noise of running water. He didn¡¯t dare to turn around. Even when the water stopped and only falling drops broke the silence, he glared in front of him, to the corridor he had just carried her through. After a while, something else filled it: ¡°Who¡­ who are you? Where are we?¡± A small voice. More of a whisper, really. ¡°Name¡¯s Vester. I¡¯m in the rescue team. We¡¯re in the Core. The lowest floor of some factory.¡± ¡°The Core!? ¡­ a factory?¡± The initial shock of the news was quickly dulled by natural incredulity. ¡°There¡¯s a factory in the Core?¡± ¡°I know right?¡± He smiled even if nobody could see it, glad that someone else voiced his own feelings. ¡°I don¡¯t know what they made, but it involved nanites in some way. That guy was way too happy about it. It¡¯s abandoned now though. Just a long-forgotten relic of a long forgotten past.¡± ¡°How did we get here?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know? What do you remember?¡± Silence. Heavy silence. Then the noise of falling water. Vester didn¡¯t blame her for trying to drown the feelings away. But before the shower stopped again, she was talking, taking her time to choose her words: ¡°We were coming back from our break, my friends and I. Then, a red alert. We walked to the closest safety room as fast we could. We knew not to run, that just leads to panic and accidents. We were not the first to arrive, and not the last. I think, there two people before us, and one person arrived just before the force shields went up. With my two friends and I, we were six in total. Way below the room¡¯s limit. Then, chaos. I don¡¯t know what happened. I hit a wall. Everything was flying around. Even us. I couldn¡¯t even tell up and down. Everything moved too fast. Glob quickly grabbed us and protected us with his body. That¡¯s our big friend. I think he took someone else too. Everyone within arm¡¯s reach. He is just nice like that. I was in the middle, so I was less exposed. I don¡¯t know how long it lasted. It felt like an eternity. Then it stopped, as suddenly as it came. I was fine, mostly, and Zi- my other friend was wounded but still awake. Then I got up from the pile, and that¡¯s when I realised how bad things were. There was blood and dents everywhere, even on the walls and roof. Everyone else was hurt or unconscious. Glob had protected us, but he had paid the price. He was so hurt he couldn¡¯t move. All his bones were broken. The rest¡­ I don¡¯t know. The three of us were the only ones still conscious. The others didn¡¯t react, even when I lined them up and turned them on their back. I hope I didn¡¯t make things worse. I couldn¡¯t just leave them be.¡± Her voice kept getting lower and lower, as she was. Vester didn¡¯t turn back, but he could tell she was crouching down. They didn¡¯t notice the water had already stopped running. ¡°Then¡­ Zila moulted. He has a reptilian mutation, but I didn¡¯t know he could do that. He seemed upset that it happened, but not surprised. He was itching everywhere, but he couldn¡¯t scratch himself. He had a broken leg, so I¡­ I helped him remove his clothes. His skin swelled and peeled all over. I, helped removing it too. He was very hot. I could almost see steam going off him. When we were done, his whole body had a new skin, and most of his wounds were gone. He didn¡¯t seem hurt at least. He could stand, and he shoved his moult in a corner. Angrily. As if seeing it hurt him even more. Then-¡± Her voice started breaking, so Vester tried to stop her. No point in going through that again: ¡°It¡¯s fine, you already answered my question, no need to go-¡± ¡°Then he started rambling.¡± She didn¡¯t hear him. She wasn¡¯t whispering anymore. The words just spilled from her mouth, like an unstoppable flood of raw emotions. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s gotten him. He didn¡¯t even bother to put his clothes back. It wasn¡¯t cold anymore anyways. He was pacing up and down. He kept shouting about betrayal. Wasted effort. Expandable. Lost time. Sacrifices. I didn¡¯t understand. We tried to calm him down. Remind him that help was already on the way. Since no one had mutated, the shield would keep holding as long as necessary. It could be a lot worse. Whatever had happened was already done, so- so it should be fine now. It- it didn¡¯t work.¡± Sobs mixed with the deluge of words, not slowing her down one bit. Her shivers were back, and were getting stronger. ¡°It- it made it worse. He- he shouted that we knew nothing. That- that we couldn¡¯t understand. That we were do- done for already. I don¡¯t know. Something snapped in him. I don¡¯t know what. I don¡¯t know why. He turned against us. I don¡¯t understand. He shouted at us. He had so much venom! I don¡¯t understand. He started beating up Glob in the face. Only in the face! Glob couldn¡¯t move. I don¡¯t understand! He asked him to stop. I asked him to stop. Begging him! He didn¡¯t stop. I don¡¯t understand. We were friends. Why did he- why did he- And when I tried to stop him- he just shoved me away! I couldn¡¯t do anything! I don¡¯t understand! And when he was too tired from beating him, he turned to me and he¡­ and he¡­ AAAAH!¡± Vester almost jumped out of his hide when she grabbed handfuls of his back fur and bawled against his spine. ¡°WHY?! WHY DID YOU DO THAT? WE WERE FRIENDS! WHY? WHY? JUST WHYYY?¡± Only wordless cries followed, but words were not necessary to convey her feelings. They were all too clear for the world to hear. Vesper had thought he knew what pain and anguish were, that he was familiar with human suffering. He realised now, how na?ve he was. His life had been easy. Not even remotely at risk, even on the job. Even at that point, questioning what just hours before were the most important parts of his life, he still couldn¡¯t fathom what it would feel like to be in her place. Every time he tried, the pure emotions and grief in her voice showed him how wrong he was, stopped him from pretending. Even to himself. For the first time in his life, he was forced to face the truth: he was nothing but a brat, spoiled by an easy life, where all the important choices had been made before he was even born, and never had he questioned it. Even now, with a sobbing girl in need of comfort, he couldn¡¯t think of anything to say. All he could thing about, was himself. And he hated it. But he still couldn¡¯t say anything. After an unknown amount of time, her cries abated, leaving only shaking sobs. Then came wet sniffing. And lastly, silence. A heavy silence and two changed hearts, one numb and the other heavy. The feline mutant threw the cover over his shoulders like a cape, covering and hiding her from the rest of the world. She mumbled a thanks, but didn¡¯t move. Drained and exhausted, and feeling safe for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she fell asleep. Vesper only noticed thanks to her breath, long and regular, for she didn¡¯t still hadn¡¯t let go of him. He didn¡¯t know how long he took to realise, but it didn¡¯t matter anyways. He wouldn¡¯t move. He didn¡¯t want to wake her up. He just waited, in an empty hallway, alone with his doubts. Right until the silence was broken by voices, footsteps and wheels. The others had arrived, and he wasn¡¯t sure he liked the way the conscious ones were looking at him. Chapter 16 - Interrogation Zax hadn¡¯t been particularly worried about Canary¡¯s physical state, even when she and Cat didn¡¯t come back. Her mind was in the more dangerous place, but Cat had shown he was afraid of hurting her, and he would be able to stop her from doing something definitive if she tried. That was why his stomach dropped when he passed the last corner and beheld Cat sitting toward him, on the ground, staring at his own almost feet, looking defeated. He was too far to see the details, but the girl was nowhere in sight. Cat looked up and when he noticed them his defeated look instantly changed for a defiant one. ¡°What happened? Where is she?¡± Zax asked when he was close enough. Cat just put a finger on his lips and pointed at his back. Zax went past him and spotted the cover draped over his back, hiding a shapeless and motionless bump. He put it aside and sure enough, there she was, unconscious, and somehow grasping Cat¡¯s fur. Who knew that the Circle¡¯s fashion of putting big holes in clothes to show off the not-skin could have a practical use? Zax softly removed the cover and diagnosed her with the scanner still had on his belt. ¡°Good, she just fell asleep, she didn¡¯t faint. Low but stable cerebral activity.¡± Zax stated aloud, not bothering to keep his voice down. ¡°That¡¯s good, right?¡± Cat whispered. ¡°Very.¡± Zax nodded, not lowering his voice. ¡°A restful sleep, no dream and no nightmare, that¡¯s just what she needs right now. Surprising, too. You must¡¯ve done something good, to calm her down that much before exhaustion caught up. Good job. Physical health¡­ as good as can be expected.¡± ¡°That part doesn¡¯t sound good¡­¡± ¡°Not ideal, but she¡¯s not in danger. No internal injuries. Several sprained joints and muscles, many bruises and slight lacerations, but nothing life threatening. No sign of pregnancy either, but I don¡¯t know how accurate a basic scanner would be at this point in time. Any reason you keep on whispering?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to wake her up¡­¡± That made sense, but for some reason it didn¡¯t feel right. A glance at Dog, still behind the trolleys turned gurneys, showed he wasn¡¯t convinced either. Zax didn¡¯t comment and tried to pry her hands open, but she resisted. He could have forced her ¨C her strength wasn¡¯t enhanced ¨C but he decided against it. Instead, one after the other, he put a corner of the cover against her palms as he pulled them from the fur, making her instinctively grab it instead. He then had Cat help him move her with minimal movement. They put her in a gurney behind them that hadn¡¯t been there moments before, first draping it in one of two strange sheets with a metallic shine that laid at its foot, then putting the patient in, covering her more thoroughly with the second sheet, setting a neck brace and strapping her down. ¡°To make sure she doesn¡¯t fall off during travel.¡± Zax explained when Cat protested. ¡°We may need to move fast.¡± He reminded him. That was when Cat noticed the rest of the strange procession that had arrived. Zax was in front, guiding the first gurney for turns to take, then, attached to it was another gurney, and another, all the victims equally strapped and neck braced. Dog was behind that chain, pushing it and dragging something else with a harness. Even with their mutations, that was a serious load. None of that was the strange part however, not even the hopefully unconscious bodies on the gurneys. The problem was- ¡°Where do all those come from? I¡¯m pretty sure we came with only two trolleys, and they can¡¯t split? And what¡¯s in the back?¡± Cat queried as he moved forward. ¡°Just things that don¡¯t need a gurney or real care to move.¡± Zax grabbed his arm. ¡°You can look later, I just built what we were missing with nanites ¨C I had real ones as templates ¨C but the place is still unstable. We have to go ASAP, and the stairs are bound to be difficult.¡± ¡°What? But you said here was a good gathering point?¡± He had indeed offhandedly mentioned it, in a whisper, just after checking the shower. ¡°You heard that? Well, I didn¡¯t mean us. It was for the nanites. It¡¯s the first object in the hallway, so it¡¯s an obvious landmark, and its shape makes it good to orient them in space.¡± Zax explained, pointing up with a finger. Every conscious eye went to the ceiling and reflexively moved back. Or tried to, for the bed-ridden one. Above their head was shapeless swarming mass of¡­ something. It was hard to describe, as none had ever seen something like that before, even in simulations of natural environments. It was a mix of mist, running water, and¡­ ink? Or shadows? And shadows? It was¡­ floating just below or pooling on the ceiling, masking it. The centre was black, opaque, sturdy and impossible to miss, but the fringe was both impossible to trace and constantly moving, changing and twisting. The in-between was gradually more see-through, lighter and misty, revealing solids within. Minuscule balls, leaves, flies, snowflakes and many other things too small to be recognised, moving, merging and splitting in new things without rhyme or reason. It was made even more eerie by the lack of any sound, smell, or even pattern in its observable movements. No wonder nobody had noticed it before. It was not moving along any imaginary wind current and it was not following any ordered structure or sequence; it seemed to just, follow its own whims, each part going in its own direction at its own speed, splitting and merging, sometimes resisting others, or resisting nothing at all, or not resisting at all. Their individual aims were inconsequential, only the whole mattered, regardless of what part succeeded or failed. Zax was called back to reality by a shocked shout. ¡°What the trees is that?!¡± ¡°I know right?¡± He blinked and grinned from ear to ear. ¡°Fascinating! Not something you¡¯d ever see outside the Core, that¡¯s for sure. Who knew a high concentration of active unfixed building nanites would produce such beauty? Too bad we can¡¯t bring it outside, even the weakest 3G disruption would destroy it in one exposure.¡± Only silence answered his excitation while the others slowly processed what was just explained. ¡°Anyways, let¡¯s keep going. The stairs are too small to move all the gurneys at once, we¡¯ll have to split the group. It¡¯s never a good idea, but I have an idea to speed things up.¡± A few commands and mostly useless hand gestures to show he was doing something later, a small part of the swarm visibly separated from the main mass and went to the staircase, invisibly covering every surface they safely could, where they locked themselves in place to be used as spatial reference. It was a normal part of any improvised nanite construction, but the sheer scale sent thrills down his spine. He even had to add a loop to the usual program to automatically keep taking more nanites until it had enough! Since he couldn¡¯t just measure or estimate how much he would need for the whole staircase¡­ ¡°Let¡¯s start with Canary. She¡¯s the closest.¡± He and Cat pulled and pushed her gurney up the stairs while the nanites recorded their passage. They measured the direction of the wheels and the heights of the legs to keep her body even, as well as the pressure on the gurneys, the elevation of each step and many other factors, then calculated the ideal changes to give the gurneys and the stairs themselves for optimal passage, then the stairs alone for the non-nanites gurneys. The programmer still had to manually check everything of course, but he didn¡¯t spot any glaring or dangerous error. After that it was simple; he would push the gurneys up one after the other, and the nanites would build a ramp under the wheels, adapt the height of the gurney¡¯s legs, and the wheels¡¯ direction for ideal passage, then unmake the ramp so he could put his foot down without slipping. All that without his input, solely using his position and movement. A dynamic nano-construct at a macroscopic scale; it would be decadent and useless at any other time and any other place, but- It¡¯s so awesome! He hadn¡¯t felt so excited about using nanites since his first personal program. Some of this building code he didn¡¯t even know before! He was glad he never disabled the editor¡¯s writing help. The travel with the non-nanites gurneys wouldn¡¯t be as comfortable, since his nanites would only be able to adjust the stairs, but it would still make a notable difference. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. He pushed Ram up first by virtue of being at the front of the remaining group, not forgetting to scan him for any change in his state and to tie it to Canary¡¯s gurney before going back down, and when Dormouse passed the threshold Canary had woken up and was talking Cat into unfastening her straps. ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± Zax interrupted before Cat could make a decision. ¡°Sorry girl, but it¡¯s safer and faster if you just lay down until we can stop moving for good. Even if you can stand ¨C which I advise against. But we can lift your back if you want. It would let you see in front of you. How do you feel? Physically?¡± He was scanning her even as he asked, the device was still at his belt. She hesitated, glancing at Cat and only answering when she got a nod of reassurance. ¡°I¡¯d like that, please. And I¡­ think I¡¯m alright? It aches¡­ er, everywhere, but it¡¯s all better now.¡± The melodious voice was hesitant, and the way her legs squirmed under the coverings alluded to a certain body part aching more than the rest, but Zax didn¡¯t point it out as he tilted the upper half of the mattress. ¡°Slight aches? What about itching? None at all?¡± ¡°¡­ maybe a little. I didn¡¯t even notice.¡± The question surprised her, but she answered honestly. ¡°Don¡¯t scratch. You could keep going until you bleed. And emotionally? How do you¡­ feel?¡± Zax made sure to keep his voice and face level, to not show any personal emotion; anger, sadness or pity. It had to be a normal question, just like the others. It might have helped since she answered, even if in a very low voice, but it was hard to tell. He didn¡¯t have much experience in that field. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Mhm.¡± Zax nodded, it was expected. ¡°Do you want painkillers? Or sleeping pills?¡± As she hesitated, and Cat could only shrug uncertainly at her new wordless query, Zax gave a slight push. ¡°Personally, I don¡¯t advise it. Pros: it would give you a good rest for sure, you won¡¯t be agitated on the way and you won¡¯t have to see what happens next. Cons: you won¡¯t be able to process things immediately, and we don¡¯t know how long before we reach hospital. I guess the actual question is: do you think you can handle it now, or do you want to push back handling it ¡®til you have better a help than us?¡± He might have spoken too much, as her expression was more confused and worried than hesitant or thinking. ¡°Well, take your time. The pills are still there if you decide later.¡± Zax took two boxes from his pockets and shoved them on by one in Cat¡¯s hands, out of her field of view. ¡°That for pain, that for sleep. For her size, only half a pill, and only one type at a time. Wait at least two hours before giving a second type. Clear?¡± ¡°Clear.¡± A nod answered him. ¡°Good.¡± Zax nodded back, then turned back to the patient and put his hands in front of him, as if waiting for something to fall from the sky. ¡°This is for you. The scan gave me your size, and it leaves your feathery areas exposed. I can cover them too if you want, but free air would be good for them right now, let the skin breathe. When we stop, not now.¡± As he talked, a small cloud of nanites flew from the stairs and condensed themselves in a bundle of adjusted basic clothes, that he wedged between her outside cover and a binding of the gurney. He was already one foot on the stairs when he was called back again. ¡°Wait! How is¡­ how are the others? Are we¡­ really in the Core?¡± ¡°¡­ Glob is seriously hurt, but he should be fine as long as he stays awake.¡± She closed her eyes and released a shaky breath, but Zax had left before she opened them again. She forgot all about the questions he didn¡¯t answer to. ¡°Took your time.¡± Dog noted when Zax arrived back downstairs. ¡°Yeah, Canary woke up so I checked on her. R-¡± ¡°Oh thanks the stars!¡± Glob could barely see his friend be hoisted up earlier, even with his elevated back, but he had been surprisingly silent so far. He finally let it out at the news. ¡°Ready to go?¡± Zax ignored the interruption. ¡°I can¡¯t push all that at once. Not through stairs.¡± The mutant admitted. ¡°Just take Glob for now. I¡¯ll take care of the rest.¡± ¡°¡­ You sure?¡± Dog glanced uncertainly at the load tied to his harness. Specifically, the tied up, blinded, deafened and gagged Molester, bound kneeling on a rolling plank. The wrapped body of the most unfortunate victim and part of the equipment they had brought with them was on a second larger one. More of a wagon, really. Unfortunately, they would have to leave the rest behind; they had no way to moving it all plus the victims at once, even if Cat had been there. Nanites could be used in many ways, but making motorised transport would take too long as Zax didn¡¯t have that kind of blueprints, and they didn¡¯t have any energy source beside themselves anyways. ¡°The staircase is covered with my nanites, so he won¡¯t win a fight. Plus, you know, where would he go?¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°Even if he does run away, he¡¯ll just die here. Alone. And only the stars know how long it¡¯ll take. No big deal. May even make things easier for us.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not¡­ never mind. Let¡¯s go already.¡± ¡°Can I close, my eyes? That thing is, really creepy.¡± Glob pleaded, staring uncertainly at what was left of the nanite swarm still bristling above the shower. ¡°¡­ Granted, but only if you keep counting aloud. You can¡¯t-¡± ¡°I can¡¯t fall asleep yet, yes, I know.¡± Glob curtly cut him. He had heard that sentence too often already. Zax took the stairs after Dog and Glob. As expected, the non-nanites gurney, required to handle the large man¡¯s weigh, was less wieldy and comfortable, but the nanites around them still helped, smoothing the slope and cushioning the walls. On the other hand, the prisoner felt the change of mover and tried to wiggle out, but he was bound too tight and strongly to do anything. When that was confirmed, Zax mostly ignored him and ordered the nanites to seal the threshold and follow him. No sense in leaving them behind. Then he focused on climbing, straining under his load despite it being roughly the same as Dog¡¯s, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through. Until a glance at the swarm gave him an idea: could his nanites help with that too? As it turned out, they could. It took some trial and error, some tinkering in the code and it was only possible thanks to the confined space they were in, but he managed to make them support his pushing effort continuously. From the outside, it seemed like wires or tentacles grew from the walls, roof and ceiling, wrapped around or grasped at the closest part of the load or the puller they could, then pulled themselves taut. Harder to notice were the many compact pillars growing under them, but nanites were not plants, they couldn¡¯t push by forcing their growth. On the other hand, it could never be used outside the Core. Besides the usual problem of unpredictable disruption fields, it would be too scary to look at for any potential customer. A pity, it was really helpful. Any backward movement was made impossible, and Zax still had to pull by himself, but the rise could now be done in as small increments as needed. He arrived panting and sweating, but not too far behind the others. He quickly gave Dog his harness back, made one for Cat, and the three rearranged the gurneys to have the pair carry a similar charge. Glob and Canary found themselves side by side, pushed by Dog and Cat respectively. They hadn¡¯t asked for it, but it seemed to be the obvious thing to do. For some reason, the two survivors hadn¡¯t talked to each other since they joined. Glob was back to counting with his eyes closed, and Canary was making great efforts to not look at him. Ram and Dormouse were lined up in front of her, Molester was bound to Cat¡¯s harness, out of sigh of the others, the lost one to Dog¡¯s, and Zax carried the gear they had left himself. They went on their way, backtracking. The only sounds were the rolling of wheels, Glob¡¯s counting and Molester¡¯s occasional struggle. But instead of leaving the factory, they went to the work room. Zax turned the computer from earlier back on while the others pushed the separated gurneys in, conscious patients first. They were confused, but didn¡¯t speak up. Zax opened the communication channel with the Core, activated the camera and synchronised the computer with the scanner. That antique didn¡¯t have adequate drivers, but that wasn¡¯t a problem; most modern systems didn¡¯t either, it was just too niche. That was why the scanner had them ready to be downloaded and installed on any compatible system. His nanites had a similar problem when interacting with other machines, but he made their language compatible via commutable plugins instead. None were made for dead languages, but luckily, one of them was compatible with the scanner¡¯s. When they were done, and Zax had altered Molester¡¯s full head cover to let him see and hear only, their report began: ¡°Zax speaking. Targets found. Medical and psychological assistance required. Urgently. Downloading medical scan results now.¡± ¡°Complete.¡± The computer replied, showing the Core accepted that method of report. That was a pleasant news, it would be more effective than talking aloud. ¡°Downloading personal sensory memory and appropriate drivers.¡± ¡°Complete.¡± ¡°Downloading cognitive memory and appropriate drivers.¡± ¡°Complete.¡± A nod to Cat and Dog and they made their own reports. They didn¡¯t have nanites in their brains recording everything, so they had to give it manually. Or vocally. Zax was impressed at how concise and orderly they were, but then he remembered parts of the conversation between Dog and Glob. Right, they are part of a security company. They must know how to give a report. ¡°Requesting permission to send dead and unconscious victims outside for emergency treatment.¡± Zax queried when they were done. ¡°Complementary report required.¡± ¡°They are unconscious! They don¡¯t have any report to give! Just make sure they stay under watch and punishable when they wake up if you¡¯re that worried! And what do you want us to do with a corpse?! An autopsy?! Even the other¡¯s reports won¡¯t change a thing about it! And the dot has way better interrogators than us.¡± ¡°Granted. I will assure transport.¡± Zax turned towards the pair, but they were already on the move. ¡°¡°Going!¡±¡± ¡°Don¡¯t forget that we are not allowed to leave yet. Just push the gurneys outside the changing rooms.¡± Zax shouted, hopefully before they went too far. ¡°Interrogators?¡± ¡°Outside?¡± ¡°Mm?¡± ¡°Changing rooms?¡± ¡°Allowed to leave?¡± ¡°Mm mm!?¡± The remaining patients¡¯ doubts and confusion gave way to actual worry. Molester was already not in peace, and felt even worse. After all they had been through, just what was going on? ¡°Er, yes. Sorry.¡± Zax tried to explain what he could, but he had to stay vague. He didn''t want to consider it, but the Core¡¯s doubts had a solid footing. ¡°Someone high ranked suspects this accident was actually an attempt against them. Maybe just probing defences and reactions, maybe a diversion. Maybe a burglary? We don¡¯t know, they didn¡¯t tell us. But you can¡¯t leave before they know you have nothing to do with it.¡± Chapter 17 - Remorse and Guilt Stunned silence followed Zax¡¯s statement. He let it stew a moment, but he broke it before someone could say or do something untoward. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it for now. We¡¯ll start when the others come back. Shouldn¡¯t be long.¡± Without turning his back on them, the human sunk in the uncomfortable seat, trying to relax while he could. He was exhausted. He had pushed himself on all fronts. His body climbing the stairs; his mind keeping up with everything to do; his focus and his skills with all the advanced first aid and programming in on the fly, his old programs had been made as training and had not been enough for real applications. Even emotionally, he was drained from all the stress of the situation. And that was before accounting for the gut-wrenching realisation of what a fellow dotter could do in their last moments. That thought unconsciously made him glance at the three in front of him, which was enough for one of them to hesitantly break the new awkward silence. ¡°Uh, since we¡¯re not moving anymore, can I get up now?¡± Canary fidgeted under her cover, avoiding eye contact. ¡°I¡¯m, I¡¯m not¡­ I need to move.¡± ¡°Ah, sure. Let me just¡­ there.¡± Zax went to her gurney and unfastened her straps. She quickly put her clothes on, not lifting her eyes from the ground. She fumbled a bit from rushing, but her motor functions didn¡¯t seem impaired. That was a reassuring sign about her mental state. Zax didn¡¯t have fancy materials, so her outfit was a plain dull grey. He had made it a bit loose for comfort; she could still be sensitive. It exposed her chest area, shoulders, upper back and a few splotches on her upper arms. Those areas up to her throat and all around her neck were covered with rash and scabbing points. Right, better get to it. He took a few gauzes and disinfectants and asked to treat her plucked areas. She glanced down and reflexively covered the open areas with her arms and a cute squawk. She hadn¡¯t realised how exposed she was. She realised how ludicrous and pointless her reaction was and quickly uncrossed her arms. A nod later and Zax was delicately dabbing her back, filling the silence with small talk. ¡°It¡¯ll take quite a few gauzes, but I should have enough. You wouldn¡¯t happen to have a mutation that would help you heal, would you?¡± ¡°Er, no? Just the feathers. And¡­ a slight discoloration of my lips. They are¡­ they do nothing.¡± Her shoulders slumped. ¡°Nothing? I never heard of a mutation that did nothing, even if it only affects a very specific part the mutant¡¯s life. Especially a mutation with visible effects. For feathers, they should be waterproof and insulating.¡± ¡°They are pretty, and soft to the touch, but that¡¯s it. I never was cold or hot enough to have my clothes adjusted, but they can be annoying to dry.¡± She thought more about it. ¡°An actual bother but being pretty and soft are the only good things about them? Do you have self-esteem issues? Grew up in a family that didn¡¯t care about you, maybe?¡± ¡°Wha-!¡± ¡°What are you talking!?¡± Glob shouted, startling them both. ¡°She¡¯s the nicest girl I ever met! She smiles and greet everyone equally and she makes every room she¡¯s in brighter! She¡¯s cute! And open! And resourceful! And reliable! And! And anybody would be lucky to have her in their life! Any family that wouldn¡¯t see that wouldn¡¯t deserve her! And She! I! She¡­ I¡­ I mean, uh¡­¡± His rant deflated when he realised what he was saying, with a beet red Canary and an amused Zax looking at him, speechless. He blushed and shrivelled on himself, as if trying to disappear in his own mass. ¡°Glad to see you still have that much energy.¡± Zax smirked as he turned back to his task, moving to her back. ¡°But nice as it is, that doesn¡¯t answer my question. Even if everyone sees her positively, I don¡¯t know how she sees herself.¡± That remark greatly troubled everyone. Even Molester briefly looked pensive. ¡°But you are right, that can¡¯t be it. If her feathers are usually covered, they are not there to be seen. Hmm. Did you ever get a full check up at a hospital? To actually quantify your changes?¡± ¡°Er, no?¡± ¡°The basic ones are not that expensive.¡± ¡°No, but it never seemed¡­ useful. I mean, it was obvious.¡± ¡°You want to know what I think? I think the feathers are just a side effect, or rather an extension of your actual mutation. You wouldn¡¯t happen to love singing and to practice it whenever you can?¡± ¡°Ye-, yes? How did you know?¡± ¡°We go to karaoke once a week.¡± The bed-ridden man added. ¡°I¡­ go there more often than that.¡± She looked on the verge of guilty at the admission. ¡°And in your daily job? Do you sing or shout a lot?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m the receptionist. I greet people and answer the phone. I¡¯m not allowed to shout, it¡¯s not professional. I never tried singing there.¡± ¡°But you do practice fine vocal control. Yes, I can see it. Your voice is what you care about the most about yourself, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°What?¡± She and Glob asked at close to the same time. ¡°As a dotter, your first activation was in your teenage years, at that age we try to figure ourselves out. And during that period or great turmoil, music was your refuge. Something that made you feel better, escape reality for a while. Maybe a certain song, maybe singing to yourself, a band or a chorus you were part of, or wanted to be a part of. Maybe someone important whose voice reached you more than the rest. But you never really thought about it. Then your first activation, your lips and a small patch of feathers on your neck. Maybe a full collar. Since you didn¡¯t know much about singing, you thought only your throat and mouth were useful, so that¡¯s what changed first, and since you didn¡¯t practice you never noticed the difference. The discoloration was probably a precursor of growing a beak. But before your second activation, working and singing had become major parts of your life. Your job made you talk to all kinds of people all day, and karaoke made you sing and maybe push your limits. You understood more clearly what a singer needs, maybe even studied and practiced on your own, which oriented the mutation towards your throat and lungs instead of your mouth. That part is already good enough to produce the sounds you want, after all.¡± ¡°You mean¡­¡± ¡°Yes, your actual mutation is centred around your voice. To make it more communicative, more pleasant to hear, last longer. That kind of thing. Everything else is a support or an overflow. But all that is just my opinion.¡± ¡°That means¡­¡± That opinion sounded too right to her to be ignored. He was wrong or hazy on some points of her past, but too many details were right to be a fluke. That her second activation happened way after she discovered she loved karaoke and trained for it. That she didn¡¯t care for it before her first activation. Even the lessons she took in secret. She had never mentioned that, ever! She had never noticed that part of herself, how much she cared about her songs, but now that it had her attention she couldn¡¯t ignore or deny it. She was so lost in her thought, she barely heard Glob haltingly query: ¡°That¡¯s, a very¡­ precise and complete opinion. What makes you, say that?¡± ¡°Ah, it¡¯s a hobby of mine. I like to study mutations, and over time I noticed some correlations. Then I developed a theory to explain or predict what someone will get. Or at least what it will tend towards. By taking it backwards, the mutation tells me things about the mutant.¡± ¡°But mutations, are random? Impossible, to predict, or control. Even the Great Families, can only, orient their members¡¯, and they don¡¯t, always succeed.¡± Zax was done cleaning Canary¡¯s wounds. She slowly paced around, lost in her thoughts, while he put the bloodied gauze in the trashcan under the nearest desk. It had a cover so no worries here. ¡°True, it¡¯s silly and pointless, but it¡¯s fun. Crafting theories, talking about it with other hobbyists, adapting or dismissing them and so on, there will always be something to talk about and someone to speak with.¡± He went to the newly freed gurney as he talked, giving a few mental commands to change it into something more fitting to the situation. < Connection / Factory_Nanites / Direct contact > < Command: Unbuild Item ¡°Gurney¡± (1) This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Then Build Item ¡°Armchair-Standard¡± (2) > [ Error: not enough nanites ] < Correction: Built Item start.from Item ¡°Chair-Standard¡± > [ Starting ] ¡°There are others, who do that?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Zax stated the obvious, watching the gurney melt into a puddle, followed by two chairs rising out of it and cushioning themselves with the excess nanites. ¡°We¡¯re a real community in the network. Even if there are always people who take it too seriously. And I mean, the Families didn¡¯t get their recipes out of nowhere, and they do work even if it¡¯s not 100%.¡± ¡°That means¡­ it¡¯s my fault?¡± Canary¡¯s anguished voice broke at that exclamation. ¡°What?¡± Zax barely stopped himself from collapsing in one of the more comfortable new constructs. ¡°NO!¡± Glob shouted in outrage. ¡°You did nothing wrong! He¡¯s just insane!¡± For the first time, Glob actively tried to move. Luckily for him, he was still weakened and the straps held. It was also the first time he talked directly to Canary. ¡°HE WAS RIGHT! I-! I did it to myself! I- I love singing¡­ and I love when you guys applaud¡­ and that glint in your eyes when I pour my heart out¡­ so my voice got better and I made you feel that way. That¡¯s why he wanted me to sing for him alone. And got angry when I didn¡¯t. I had it coming. I deserve it. I made you¡­¡± Her legs folded under the weight of her realisation, her voice dropping lower at each sentence. ¡°NO EETY! It was my fault! You¡¯ve done nothing wrong!¡± Glob shouted louder. ¡°I introduced you and Zila! And I brought you to that karaoke! And I couldn¡¯t protect you. I should¡¯ve done something. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry for everything-¡± ¡°SHUT UP!¡± That was the biggest shout so far, Zax even felt it in his chest, along with the pain and anguish it carried. And it had come from Canary ¨C Eety, Zax corrected. She had thrown herself at Glob in a fierce hug. Quite a feat, when she was roughly a third of his body weight. ¡°You¡¯ve done nothing wrong! I¡¯m sorry you had to endure all that. You wouldn¡¯t be in that state without me. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry.¡± It had all happened so fast, the two were already bawling their eyes out together by the time Zax had figured out what they were talking about. Both apologising for what the other went through. Birds of a feather do flock together. ¡°Well, speaking of responsibilities,¡± Zax went to the last person and touched his head cover, opening a slit in front of his mouth. ¡°Why did you do that, Molester?¡± It was not the best moment to ask, but the question was haunting him and he wasn¡¯t sure he would still be able to have answers later. His face and tone were a blank, monotone mask. ¡°¡­ Zila.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°Name¡¯s Zila.¡± He looked like a deer in headlights, not expecting the question. ¡°You betrayed your friends, you hit them when they were down, you hurt and traumatised them in the worst way possible, because your name is Zila?¡± Zax raised an eyebrow, but lowered it back when he realised it. ¡°A bit slim as an excuse, don¡¯t you think?¡± A confused gaze was followed by an actual attempt at an excuse, complete with downcast eyes and timorous voice. ¡°I always admired her. She¡¯s cute, and nice, and outgoing, and perfect. She has and she is a great friend, she has a job she loves and a boss that respects her. Everything. Everything I ever wanted. I tried to get her normally, but she never cared. She kept smiling and comforting me, but we never loved me back.¡± His speech was more and more asserted, as if floodgates had been opened and would not close before everything had spewed. ¡°But I still wanted her. Needed her! I bid my time, I tried to show her how good she would be with me. How great I am too. I gave her gifts and brought her places, often with others so she wouldn¡¯t feel awkward. Even when I wanted us to be alone! But it never meant anything to her!¡± By now he was close to shouting, as if they didn¡¯t have any right to resent or judge him. ¡°So what else could I do! Don¡¯t you realise where we are! We¡¯re in the Core! The Core! We were done for! There was no way anyone would come and get us! I still have no idea how or why you got here!¡± He briefly paused, catching his breath. He straightened his back as much as the staps would let him and concluded with a righteous face: ¡°So I did what anyone would do in that situation, and I took what I had earned: Eety, and my revenge.¡± It was stated so icily yet matter-of-factly, it sent a chill along every spine in the room. ¡°Revenge? That¡¯s why you went at Glob¡¯s face so fiercely?¡± Dog¡¯s voice startled Zax but he didn¡¯t move his eyes from Zila¡¯s. He hadn¡¯t noticed their return, and from their tone they had not just came back. ¡°Exactly!¡± Zila smiled like a demented at Zax, jubilant and relieved that someone understood him. He hadn¡¯t noted their return either, his addled mind making him interpret the question as genuine interest from the man in front of him. Zax¡¯s figurative mask nigh slipped at the outburst, but it wasn¡¯t done: ¡°He kept pretending to be my friend but he never helped me! He was always in my way, he even made sure to stay with her too. He stole so many opportunities! MY opportunities! So I gave him what he deserved, and I took what I deserved!¡± He was actually short-winded at the end of his rant, filling the aghast silence with heavy breathing. Whether it was from his shouts or his delusions was unclear. Glob and Eety were huddling together on his gurney, a protection against the horrors spewed their way. They had never suspected that part of their friend; it was like they never knew him at all. ¡°And that¡¯s why you tore her feathers away?¡± A half growl echoed, bursting with anger. Cat stomped between him and Zila, Dog closely behind. The bound man finally realised their presence and his predicament as Zax moved to the side. They hadn¡¯t given him clothes, they only improvised a loincloth and some bandages to stem his bleeding from Dog¡¯s immobilisation, so Cat could only grab his neck to lift him up, a replay of Dog when they first found them. Zax put his foot on the rolling plank to command to the straps to follow the unexpected movement without actually loosening their snare. Cat¡¯s hand was too tight on his throat to let words come out, and his claws were fully extended even on his not-feet, but he didn¡¯t care about the answer anyways. His other hand was already pulled back into a tight fist ¨C somehow not stabbing himself ¨C when out of all people, Zax stopped him: ¡°Ah, no, he didn¡¯t.¡± His tone was light and casual, like a teacher explaining a wrong answer to an exercise. It was such a contrast with the atmosphere that the everyone¡¯s flow of emotions derailed. They looked at him as if he had grown a second head. ¡°Are you defending him!?¡± ¡°Are you saying he shouldn¡¯t be punished?!¡± Dog and Cat¡¯s outrage resonated, but Zax was steadfast. ¡°No, he definitely must be punished for his actions, I won¡¯t deny that.¡± The human shook his head, to the great despair of the slowly fading man. ¡°I think he should be judged and sentenced by actual authorities, but since we are quite literally out of reach from the law and you both want to do it yourselves; I don¡¯t have any way to stop you. I just meant that he didn¡¯t tore her feathers away.¡± ¡°¡°Just look at her!¡±¡± The pair simultaneously pointed at Eety, who unconsciously turned her torso away, revealing her scabbing back. ¡°Stress moulting.¡± ¡°Uh?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a common occurrence among small birds ¨C actual birds. Just as you can tell a dog is sick if their muzzle is dry, you can tell a bird is stressed or sick by how ruffled their feathers are, especially the front ones.¡± Zax patted his own chest for emphasis. ¡°They even tear them off themselves in case of high stress. Like being forced in confined spaces for too long. Feathered mutants tend to have the same feature, even if it manifests a bit differently. Especially if they take after smaller birds and if their feather mutation is superficial. Eety¡¯s is not superficial, but a Canary does count as a small bird and she was undeniably under a lot of stress recently.¡± ¡°Thank the stars.¡± Glob sighed. ¡°When the room went back to normal and I saw the feathers all around, I thought she was hurt somewhere. Or everywhere.¡± ¡°Nope! She was just scared.¡± Zax joyfully stated. ¡°Your body was a most effective shield, and any wound you took, any bone you broke, was buying her life anew. Since she would have died from any of those hits.¡± Glob and Eety had undecipherable expressions while Zax made his face as blank as before this one comment. The ease at which he did so uneased the others, helping an awkward silence to set. ¡°So¡­ what now?¡± Someone asked. Cat hadn¡¯t let go of Zila, but he had put him back down and his claws were hidden again. The binds had adjusted themselves back. ¡°Ah, I think you wanted to dish out a punishment?¡± Zax reminded them. ¡°Not anymore. I would feel like him,¡± Cat let go of his throat but still kicked him in the stomach, hard. ¡°Using the ¡®no one will stop me¡¯ as an excuse.¡± Dog nodded in agreement, watching the former attacker cough his lungs out. ¡°Then, I guess we can start with the interrogation?¡± ¡°Ah, right. How do we do that?¡± The three would be interrogators looked at each other, but they were all equally out of their depth. They eventually settled for having the three describe their day, mention any suspicious or unusual activity, one after the other and without influencing the others. Those who hadn¡¯t talked yet were to turn away and have their ears blocked, and no one was to talk while another was giving their testimony, not even them. They started with Glob to avoid him falling asleep from inactivity, and ended with Zila because they didn¡¯t want to have to listen to him again. Irregularly vibrating earplugs were very effective at blocking even enhanced hearing, and none of them should have that. All in all, it had been an ordinary shift before the alarm. Eety at the reception, Glob in accounting and Zila in human resources. They were all cooperative with the interrogation, rarely alone, and they did note a few unusual behaviours among colleagues, but nothing incriminating. There were a few tears and sobs when talking about the moments they had spent together, but no one rushed them. At the end of each testimony, a few questions and precisions were queried and explained. Glob and Eety both confirmed that Zila hadn¡¯t acted any differently than usual. Before they realised, all three were done, and Zax asked his last questions to Zila. He had elected to go last in case the answers presented themselves, because he truly wanted to be wrong about that: ¡°I only have two questions left. First, visits from the Circles to the dot are very unusual, but not unheard of. Someone with First Circle level enhancements living in the dot is. So, why are you here?¡± Several incredulous exclamations rang, but Zax reminded them of how he was able to shrug off his initial injuries and pointed to his more recent arms wounds. They were still far from healed, but their scab was way too sturdy for how little time had passed. That level of enhanced healing was simply too much for a dotter. ¡°I didn¡¯t know, I was never that hurt and I never did a full checkout. And even if I did, it, it has nothing to do with the incident.¡± Zila defended himself, trying to get a small victory with the last word. The others thought the same, but Zax wasn¡¯t convinced. ¡°That¡¯s not how mutations work. For you to develop enhanced healing, you had to need it. It¡¯s literally one of the two only confirmed rules about the 3G: it gives you what you need most, even if not in the way you¡¯d want or if you don¡¯t know what it is. No way you never noticed how much your huge hospital bills reduced, or how less sickly you were, even if it was over time. And it is related to a potential attack, albeit indirectly. I don¡¯t know you, if an attack was carried against the Core in the form of sabotage, I would think it more likely to be carried by a Circle¡¯s plant than an actual dotter. Especially one that made so many victims. That goes against everything we were ever taught.¡± Cat and Dog sceptically frowned, but Glob and Eety unconsciously nodded at that last part. ¡°But, let¡¯s admit for a second that you didn¡¯t know you were enhanced enough to leave the dot. That brings us to my second question: once the safe room had gone back to normal, how did you know you were in the Core?¡± Chapter 18 - Wishful Thinking ¡°Wha¡­ well, where else could we be?¡± Zila¡¯s confusion was plain on his face and his voice. ¡°Elaborate.¡± Zax¡¯s face was still a blank mask, not revealing any of the thoughts behind this question. ¡°¡­ I know where we were in the powerplant, where it is and the area around, there was a big explosion and now we¡¯re in a place I never saw before. And a big one, it was obvious even before I was blindfolded. I¡¯m absolutely sure there¡¯s no place like that in the dot around the plant. It¡¯s crazy, but we definitely ended in the Core. It¡¯s the only explanation left.¡± ¡°Seems reasonable. Anything else? Is that all?¡± Zax insisted. The bound man tentatively nodded, prompting Zax to continue. ¡°That means you realised it was the Core after we arrived and opened the shield, right?¡± The widening eyes showed everyone that Zila had screwed up, even to those who didn¡¯t understand where. Zax kept going for his remote audience; one was never too careful. ¡°That means you lied to us. You claimed that being here was the reason you succumbed to your dark urges, and that was long before we arrived.¡± ¡°I lied before, not now! It was just an excuse! I had another reason!¡± Zila countered too fast and too clumsily to be convincing. ¡°Oooh? Let¡¯s hear it then.¡± Zax had totally removed his mask. Locking his facial muscles was always extremely uncomfortable, and face-to-face games never required it so thoroughly or so long. In its place was an assured smirk, reminiscent of a cat taking his time, watching his prey¡¯s last struggles. It sent a chill down more than his target¡¯s spine. ¡°No. There was a reason I lied. I¡¯m not saying.¡± Zila clamped down, trying to look defiant despite his position. ¡°Oh? Well, doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Zax briskly shrugged, stood up and pointed to the computer and what he had plugged in. ¡°See that device?¡± ¡°¡­ The scanner?¡± Zila was worried, but he didn¡¯t understand where the question was leading. The others were confused and curious too. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s a medical scanner; able to measure all kinds of physiological cues from living targets. The most common use is for a single close target, it gives the most precise and accurate readings, but there are other settings. Through walls, within a certain distance, multiple targets, that kind of thing. At the cost of reading quality of course. Very useful when you can¡¯t get close enough or time is of the essence, but only in expert hands. My hands are far from good enough to do that, but I can still set it to continuously analyse specific parts of any and all living beings within a certain range. And once connected to a computer, it¡¯s pretty easy to record and analyse specific readings. Like say, heartbeat, eye dilatation and eye movement, breathing intensity, unconscious muscle spasms, body temperature, everything you need to-¡± ¡°A lie detector?¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± Cat¡¯s astonished voice had broken the tirade, but it had had the desired effect: first create confusion and anxiety, second stir them up and enhance them with a seemingly unrelated offshoot, third narrow back on the subject, and fourth brutally convert it all in visceral fear and despair with the last revelation. Creating any emotion and converting them in a specific one was a lot easier and more effective than trying to directly make the one you want from scratch. It also made it a lot lore impactful. Never thought I¡¯d use Quinn¡¯s lessons that way, but it feels extremely satisfying. ¡°Professional liars tend to make this method unreliable, but even they would have to focus or would need specialised mutations. I don¡¯t know how much of an expert anyone here is, but no one I scanned had related mutations, and since you didn¡¯t know you were being scanned, it is receivable proof. Now, let¡¯s see who lied and when.¡± Zax sat at the desk, tapping away and briefly explaining what he was doing as he was doing it: ¡°Identifying specimens. Sorting data for everyone. Downloading analysis software from my negotiation mods. Launching. Setting a baseline for truth. Setting a marker for deviations¡­ Analysis start.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why wanted us tell our names ourselves!¡± Eety exclaimed, her and Glob¡¯s eyes widening at the realisation. ¡°Yes. Glob: strong emotions off-setting the readings. Compensating¡­ Lots of shame, embarrassment, sadness, grief, but not a single lie. Eety: same. Compensating¡­ lots of shame, embarrassment, sadness and grief too, with some upset and shock at times. You didn¡¯t know how important your voice was? Wait, nevermind that. Zila: unconclusive results? Weird, that only happens when¡­ oh. I see.¡± His smirk had briefly faded during the first results, but it was back, and stronger than before. The others all braced for whatever was about to come, because it was not going to be pretty. ¡°The baseline was wrong. I just have to set a better one and¡­ there. Almost all truth, except at three points. When he said he lied before and not now... is one. And when he was explaining how he knew where we were, it was only a partial truth. The cerebral readings are unmistakable: he used cognitive skills, not retention skills. That means he was not remembering something; he was thinking about it on the fly.¡± He let silence set up after his conclusion, the implications unheard. Speaking was not necessary; it was clear to everyone now: Zila knew their location from the beginning, and he was covering something up. ¡°What other times?¡± Eety broke the silence, prompting everyone to turn towards her. ¡°Hm?¡± Zax turned his head sideways, wordlessly asking for her meaning. ¡°You said he lied trice. What were the other ones?¡± ¡°Thank you for asking.¡± His smirk widened, if that was even possible. ¡°He also lied when he said he didn¡¯t know how far his healing enhancement went. But I already knew that. Actually, that¡¯s even how I could set a baseline for his truths, because the last lie was where I had first set it up: his name.¡± ¡°¡­ What?¡± Eety didn¡¯t understand what he meant. ¡°Remember when I said I¡¯d rather think he was not an actual dotter? It was just an idle thought and wishful thinking, but now I¡¯m not so sure.¡± Zax¡¯s predatory smile vanished, replaced by a very displeased frown, ¡°but it¡¯s still not enough to accuse him of that. Forging an identity is basically impossible in the dot; the Main Computer would know even if it doesn¡¯t do anything about it, and it would have updated the records and told the Core. That leaves two options: he just gives a fake name aloud to introduce himself, like a nickname or a pet name, or he and the real Zila exchanged their identities and their lives. There are known weaknesses in the procedures that would allow it, and the Computer won¡¯t care as long as they can both do their new job adequately.¡± ¡°We really didn¡¯t know him at all.¡± Eety lamented in a whisper. ¡°Why would your creepy computer allow that?¡± Dog queried, baffled. ¡°As he said, it wouldn¡¯t care.¡± Glob answered this time, his voice gloomy at the last revelation and still halting. ¡°Its main directive is, to ensure the dot¡¯s, sustainability, and independence. It doesn¡¯t care, who does what, as long as, the task is done, well enough.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°No system is perfect, so it¡¯s better to have a big known weakness to watch over than many small ones you¡¯re not aware of.¡± The canary girl added. ¡°Give a golden bridge to your enemies and all that.¡± ¡°That means to leave them a way out, not in.¡± ¡°I think you meant ¡®better five snakes you can see than one snake you can¡¯t¡¯.¡± ¡°And this specific weakness doesn¡¯t seem very nefarious or exploitable.¡± Zax concluded. ¡°If two people want to exchange their lives, why stop them? It¡¯s their lives, and it¡¯s more convenient than asking for a new role and wait for an answer that may or may not be what you want. And you can still change back if you don¡¯t like the result. It¡¯s outside the procedures, but not illegal. And it¡¯s not like other people wouldn¡¯t notice; mutations don¡¯t make you look like someone else, even if it¡¯s someone who happens to have similar traits and enhancements. The only way it could be used for bad would be if you faked your own death, do the exchange, and kill the new ¡®you¡¯ to make reality fit the records. And that¡¯s because of the murder. And the only way it wouldn¡¯t be noticed would be if your new identity was an outcast without any meaningful social interaction. Nobody to try and reach out to the original. And the dot tries to make sure it doesn¡¯t happen; social health is a thing, after all.¡± ¡°So there is a way.¡± ¡°A rarity requiring very unlikely happenings. There was even a movie with that scenario; that shows how outlandish it is.¡± ¡°¡°A movie?¡±¡± Cat and Dog chorused. ¡°Or a series, I forgot. That¡¯s how I know the trick, I checked how plausible it was afterwards. Forgot the name though.¡± ¡°The Exchange. A movie that inspired a series.¡± Glob helpfully added. ¡°Yes, that one. It was only exchanging between dotters, but I don¡¯t see why it would be impossible to change with a Circle resident. The customs are only strict for the luggage, not people. It would just require a high-level dotter and a low-level Resident, so that they can do each other¡¯s job.¡± ¡°Maybe he exchanged, when he was a dotter, mutated after, and didn¡¯t check, how much he improved, because he didn¡¯t want, to be noticed?¡± Glob proposed. ¡°That¡­ would make sense.¡± Zax conceded. ¡°But why the sabotage? And what did he do that made him require faster healing? Human resources, right? Ah, need social skills.¡± Zax realised. ¡°He didn¡¯t replace an outcast. And we can¡¯t check his ¡®official¡¯ name from here. No, something¡¯s wrong with both theories. We¡¯re still missing something; we didn¡¯t even touch the obviously suspicious timing.¡± ¡°What timing?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± Zax turned to Cat, getting out of his thoughts. ¡°What is that obvious timing we didn¡¯t touch? I felt like we had all the relevant parts.¡± ¡°Ah, I said that aloud, didn¡¯t I?¡± The human sheepishly realised, to a round of confirming nods. ¡°Forget about that, it was just an idle thought.¡± He tried to deflect, but in vain. ¡°With your last idle thought, please speak, it may be important.¡± Dog insisted. Seeing no way out, Zax could only grab the bull by the horns: ¡°Well, from the start, I found it really¡­ coincidental that this incident happened on that exceptional day when visitors from the Circles happened to be in the dot. Not only that, but they happened to be close by. Plus, we now know it was not an accident but premeditated, and a not so united team is involved, and you admitted that it happened just as you set foot in the powerplant. So¡­ yeah.¡± A tense silence followed, everyone warily looking at the pair of advanced mutants nobody around would be able to stop from doing anything they wanted. ¡°From what I saw so far, I don¡¯t think you are accomplices; but you have to admit, it is too unlikely to be just luck.¡± ¡°¡­ and just what are you getting at? We didn¡¯t have time to do anything, and it¡¯s easy to prove. How could we possibly be involved?¡± ¡°That would mean whoeverr did this knew the Core would let us and only us pass. No way.¡± Cat squinted at him and Dog¡¯s voice had a bit of growl in it, but they kept remarkably calm at the accusation. They hadn¡¯t paid attention, but they couldn¡¯t deny it: their presence was incredibly timely. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know.¡± Zax guiltily squirmed, not meeting their eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t think they wanted you in the Core though, they probably thought the enforcers would keep you close but to the side. The only thing I can think of would be a diversion. Focus more eyes on you and less on the target area or something. I don¡¯t know what could be done. I don¡¯t know how you wouldn¡¯t know about it, or how to prove or disprove it either.¡± The pair shared a serious look; the more they pondered, the more sense it made. However, Zax wasn¡¯t done. ¡°You said you arrived to help with a possible safety concern. I don¡¯t see why you¡¯d have to come in person for that, that sounds more like an excuse, but that could be when they prepared the sabotage, and made sure you would come sooner than later. Two birds, one stone. Then you arrived, and they finished the job. Didn¡¯t have to be you either. Anyone from the Circle would have attracted attention. Maybe you were easier to reach?¡± ¡°You¡¯re saying that¡­ it¡¯s a conspiracy encompassing the dot and at least one Circle?¡± Eety was incredulous. ¡°And they risked two advanced mutants for that? Now that¡¯s just ludicrous. Who would be able to do that? And why? That makes no sense.¡± ¡°They were not at risk before getting in the Core, and they couldn¡¯t plan for that part. The Black Market and high ranked members of any big Families could, to probe the Core¡¯s defences and get control of the 3G source.¡± Zax answered, but nodded. ¡°But you¡¯re right, that¡¯s just silly. Way above our pay grade too, that¡¯s part of why I didn¡¯t mention it. Please just explain why it¡¯s impossible and we can move on and leave the complicated answers to the analysts. I admit your silence is starting to creep me out.¡± Zax concluded to Cat and Dog. The pair had been locked in a silent conversation for the duration of the explanation, furious at how right it sounded. After an awkward silence, they had Zax shutting close the prisoner¡¯s mask again and they made everyone promise to never mention what they were about to say. They explained what had led them to be present at that moment. In their alternating talk and without going much in detail, they talked about their secret assignment, the silent promise of reward, their unpopularity due to jealousy ¨C or constant bickering, Zax thought back to when he first met them ¨C and so on. As they talked, more details popped up. Nothing that would appear strange or suspicious on its own, the kind one wouldn¡¯t recall naturally, but when put together, they made the suspicion more substantial. That boot-licker that hadn¡¯t left them alone but disappeared when Zax had arrived. The two who tried to stop Zax at the blockade. ¡°Even in a dot branch, our members should know the local rules.¡± ¡°They wouldn¡¯t try to stop an official helper.¡± ¡°We thought it was a lack of discipline.¡± ¡°Could still be.¡± ¡°Or they had their own helper to replace me, but I caught them by surprise without realising.¡± Zax finished the thought in a sigh. ¡°Or they wanted to stall for time for another reason.¡± In the end, they simply couldn¡¯t tell. The idea of a conspiracy was still ridiculous, but it would explain so much. Many elements could fit, or could have a simpler, more common explanation. And no way to tip the scale one way or another. They tried to interrogate Zila further, but he had made the wise decision to stop talking altogether. Unfortunately, and as much as they wanted to hurt him, nobody knew how to force answers out of someone. They were at an impasse, until a pop-up appeared on the computer screen: [Proposal: confession, in exchange for trial by the Core. Possibility of additional reward(s) depending on cooperation, usefulness and relevance. Refusal will lead to trial by the dot, with aggravated circumstances.] Nobody knew what the Core¡¯s trial would be, but there was no way it would be better than the dot¡¯s. It was notoriously harsh on any perceived attempt against it after all, even someone accidentally stepping on the border while running alongside it would be at risk. The very existence of a legal system in the Core was doubtful ¨Cthere was nobody to judge. However, and against all expectations, the prisoner agreed. He didn¡¯t even make a fuss about it, although he did admit to not knowing much. Another proof that they were missing important information. But at least it was not their role to deal with it, and they could move on to the important bit. To avoid painting a target on everyone¡¯s back, Zax held the confession back and voiced their conclusion to the computer. It felt a bit pointless, but better safe than sorry: ¡°Reporting: suspicious activity from at least one of the rescue targets. He was identified; the others were identified as unrelated or unaware. Unable to confirm exact role. Sabotage likely but unproven. Data and analysis already updated. Confirm reception?¡± [ Confirmed ] The words of the first standard dialog box changed, making Zax consider it was anything but a standard dialog box. It would¡¯ve been replaced. He reckoned it was irrelevant and tried to follow through, but he was interrupted: ¡°What do you mean ¡®likely but unproven¡¯? That seemed pretty clear to me.¡± ¡°We proved that his name was not Zila and that he hid how he knew where they were, but that¡¯s it. The rest is speculation at best, he hasn¡¯t admitted to anything yet. Requesting authorisation to leave for treatment as required.¡± [ Authorisation granted:
  • Unrelated/unaware targets (acquitted)
  • Vester (rescuer)
  • Ertor (rescuer)
Please proceed to extraction ] ¡°Vester and Ertor? Is that you?¡± Zax turned to Cat and Dog, getting a nod in confirmation. ¡°What about me? And not-Zila?¡± [ Not-Zila (suspect): Proceed to confession Zax (rescuer): Awaiting orders ] An ominous feeling arose in Zax. Chapter 19 - Confession Zax didn¡¯t believe he could change the Core¡¯s decision to make him stay behind without the rest of the group, but he tried anyways. The others pitched in, but in vain. In the end, he could only ask the fateful question: ¡°Why me?¡± [ Zax(rescuer)¡¯s mutation determined as uniquely suited for coming task(s) ] ¡°My mutation? What mutation? I¡¯m a purestrain.¡± ¡°What?¡± Eety blurted. ¡°I know it¡¯s a misnomer and I usually avoid using that word, but it gets the point across.¡± ¡°¡°You¡¯re a cultist!?¡±¡± Ertor and Vester exclaimed. The shock in their voice was palpable. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Cultist?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a thing?¡± Eety, Glob and Zax all expressed the same confusion in their own words. They all knew their history: when the 3G had first happened ¨C created or discovered ¨C not all survivors were ready or willing to accept such a change in their midst. Some had clung to the old ways of machines and electronics, wanting nothing to do with that unknown phenomenon which seemed to defy both reason and science and rejecting that substance and its miraculous effects the same way it rejected them; others had given themselves fully to it, embracing the new strength and versatility of the flesh and aiming to never use a tool that wasn¡¯t part their body ever again; and others were wary of it but had relented for survival, taking it in moderate doses without forfeiting the technology that had served them so long. ¡°Purestrain¡± was the name given to the group that actively or even aggressively rejected the Glowing Green Goo, named after the genetic purity they wanted to preserve. Not minding that even before landing on that world, genetic manipulations for medical purposes had been perfectly normal. The name had stayed even after the first rule of the 3G had been discovered: it didn¡¯t touch genetics. The mutant¡¯s DNA stayed untouched, meaning the changes were not hereditary, and even the most advanced, twisted and inhuman human mutant was still as genetically human as it could get, and so would their descendants. Despite that, it still allowed cross-breeding and prevented graft rejection. Truly an unexplainable and miraculous substance. Over history, the Purestrains, the Transhumans and the Moderates factions had merged back in a single entity and faded from memory, and the more extreme ideas had been dulled to more healthy levels. They were only heard of in school and fiction, although the Shelter was still divided based on people¡¯s mutation. The irony wasn¡¯t lost on anyone. Hearing one of those names would raise a few eyebrows, but the three dotters had never heard of any cult related to those factions. At first, the tensions between the two opposite views had been high, but it so happened that the Moderates were a majority and an excellent buffer, maintaining balance and unity, if not harmony. None could deny that the mutations were a boon, but they were also too unpredictable and uncontrollable to replace the stability and reliability technology offered. While it had allowed some of the survivors to no longer need to consume dwindling resources to briefly leave their shipwreck, they could never know if they would stay able to come back in its artificial environment. The astral vessel that had brought them on this uninhabitable world had been heavily damaged in the forced landing; many of its functionalities and crew irreparably lost. It had already been fortunate that most life support systems could be fixed or maintained, they couldn¡¯t adapt them to the wannabe settlers¡¯ new and unpredictable biology. By working together, they had eventually been able to build their makeshift shelter into the foundation that would grow into the Shelter that was their home. Some had developed an almost religious reverence toward the 3G, but there had never been any cult in the history of Shelter. The recorded history at least. Not expecting such a united confusion, the pair explained the mysterious cult professing the superiority of unmutated humans for their untapped but unlimited potential. Their actual name was unknow, but ¡®Purestrain¡¯ came back the most often, and the dot was their most likely headquarter. They stayed unmutated the longest, after all. ¡°¡®Untapped but unlimited potential¡¯. That¡­ sounds like something a parent would say to comfort a late bloomer.¡± Zax stated. ¡°I heard it more than once. Without the ¡®superiority¡¯ part, of course.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Eety awkwardly concurred and Glob nodded ¡°Well, we always thought it was just an urban legend to make fun of dotters.¡± Dog, Ertor shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re pretty weird, so when you used that name, we immediately thought it was related.¡± Vester shrugged the same. ¡°I¡¯m not weird, I¡¯m quirky!¡± Zax exclaimed in a fake upset tone. ¡°And I don¡¯t have anything to do with any cult, ideology or political party. I just never mutated.¡± Zax elaborated more seriously. ¡°I did the same as everybody, but it never happened, even at puberty.¡± ¡°I never heard of that.¡± Eety stated. ¡°So you just have a slight general enhancement?¡± ¡°That can¡¯t even be called a mutation at that point.¡± The pair continued. ¡°No, not even that. Yes, I¡¯m sure.¡± He raised a hand to interrupt the questions he knew were coming. ¡°I heard the first activation was unmissable even for the smallest changes. It. Didn¡¯t. Happen. All the check-ups I did confirmed that I am a healthy unenhanced baseline human. Nobody knows why ¨C or why not ¨C or how, or what to do about it.¡± ¡°Woah.¡± Ertor was speechless. ¡°Everyone dream of being loved by the 3G, but I never heard of someone hated by it.¡± Vester expressed in a whisper. ¡°Definitely a rarity, but probably not as unprecedented as you¡¯d think.¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°I mean, not everyone examines mutations as closely as I, even their own. Eety was happy to think she only had feathers on the throat and never bothered with a check-up. It just proves we know even less than we think about the 3G. It¡¯s one of its mysteries.¡± And he had been called by the main computer? He was the team leader for a rescue mission? He had unclogged the impasse at the wall? He was the one they had naturally come to rely on? How!? What was happening in their world? ¡°But it doesn¡¯t explain why someone has to stay. Or why it has to be me. Or why you can¡¯t know what my tasks will be.¡± Zax went back on topic. As much as he wanted to keep stalling, he knew he couldn¡¯t, and their eyes when he explained made him uncomfortable. Before they left, Zax unmade one of the unused chairs and used the nanites to build a memory unit. He didn¡¯t say aloud that it contained his sensory data and report of events so far, he trusted at least the Enforcers to understand what to do with it. It took some finesse, but he also managed to change his clothes¡¯ colours in a blind spot of the Core to write instructions on how to protect the data: shallow it and keep the forcefield around them active until they reached the dot proper, not simply the no-man¡¯s land. The Core had proven to be a reliable source of information so far, but they didn¡¯t have aligning interests anymore, and he still wasn¡¯t sure how far they could trust it. The four left without fanfare, relieved but awkward at abandoning someone. The remaining pair waited for their new instructions, Zax on the now fully stuffed armchair and not-Zila bound in plain view of him, the scanner and the computer¡¯s camera. Both were trying and failing hard not to mull over what was about to come. When the others had passed the changing room, they were finally allowed to continue. Not-Zila was to detail everything he thought was relevant and answer any question even irrelevant; nothing surprising. Zax was to observe and¡­ record everything for the relevant authorities outside? That was less expected, did the ban on outgoing signals include direct AI to AI communication? No, they did negotiate beforehand. Special protocols? Data size limit? Regardless, it was well within Zax¡¯s abilities; a fact that nigh let him relax a bit. He was still displeased that the potential target he wanted everyone to avoid was to be put on his specific back, but nothing could be done about it. He could only hope that not-Zila didn¡¯t have enough information to directly incriminate someone, or that if he did, they wouldn¡¯t come after him. They were about to have a lot on their hands, after all. The Core made the prisoner begin from when and how he acquired his identity. He talked and Zax barely listened ¨C recordings didn¡¯t require attention. The readings confirmed that not-Zila was cooperative, no trace of lie or deception, but now that he knew he was being scanned and had time to unwind, it was not as reliable. Not-Zila was indeed a former low-level Resident of the First Circle, but he had attracted the wrath of some unsavoury people and he was on the run. When he had found himself out of options and cornered, he had been contacted and offered a way out. He had no idea who it was or how they knew about him, and he didn¡¯t dare to ask. They would give him a new life in the dot, and in exchange they would merely contact him from time to time with tasks to accomplish. No question, no looking for them and no mention of them to anyone, ever. It was as shady as it could get, and the dot wasn¡¯t exactly a glamourous hideout, but he was desperate and it couldn¡¯t be worse than whatever his pursuers would do if they caught him. His new life had been, against all odds, fairly pleasant. The dot wasn¡¯t the cesspit of mindless drone-people or lawless thugs in constant conflict he had expected. And since the exchange had been done at the same time the other one was changing job and home, nobody noticed he was an intruder. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. The only shadow to this new life was the constant possibility of being called in by his creditors. And he was. They had kept to their word; he was only contacted occasionally with a task. The frequency and means of contact varied, he already had two in two days, and a year without anything. He listed everything he remembered, but there had been a lot over the years and he barely paid attention to it anymore. It had been small things at first, such as moving a bundle of clothes from one point in the dot to another. The timing could be uncanny; it never interfered with his day job or his personal schedule, unless it was something already on his path. Even if it was not his usual path. Creepy, but since they had given him this life, it made sense that they kept an eye on it, and he never forgot the ¡°no question¡± part of their deal. Over time, the tasks had become more risky, complex or demanding, but never out of reach or illegal. He had once been tasked to buy a mask, go to a side corridor in a gym, put the mask on, open a certain window at a certain hour, grab the bag that would come flying in, immediately close the window and run to the other side of the building without being seen, open the window there and throw the bag outside the window, close the window, throw the mask in a recycler and leave at leisure. He still remembered that one not only because it had been the first to have so many steps, but also because it had felt like a spy movie. The following tasks hadn¡¯t all been like that, but it became more common. It had kept going until a few weeks ago, when his orders became¡­ somehow less perfect. They had always given exact actions, times and distances; nothing more, nothing less. He hadn¡¯t noticed immediately, but recently they were less precise or slightly off. A vague ¡°a few¡± where an exact number usually was, a light road arriving a bit too early, a marker few steps further than announced. Not much, but it felt less reliable. Then had come the invite. His task was to be in a certain place at a certain hour, with a full-face mask for anonymity. It was already weird, there should have been instructions on how to get there unnoticed, and he had never been told why he had to do things. But the truly weird part came after: for the very first time, he had been given the option not to go. If he went there, he would be pulled in deeper than ever before and there would be no turning back, but it would be a ¡°high-risk, high-reward¡± situation. If he refused, it would be the last time they contacted him, with all it implied. He had ended up going. He liked being part of something bigger, and despite the recent changes, they had never broken their word and he trusted them. And, well, how bad could it be? After being blindfolded and moved somewhere, he had found himself sitting in front of a catwalk in a dark place among other masked figures. Too dark to see how many others were present, and no one spoke a word. On the scene was someone with a more elaborated mask, who congratulated them for their wisdom, as the absentees would never be seen again, and reminded them that being present meant it was too late to chicken out. After that they were explained why they had been called: to strike it rich, by robbing a vault. It had seemed crazy and impossible at first, but the speaker had explained a plan that had sounded extremely plausible. Not-Zila didn¡¯t have the option to go back anyway, and even in the worst-case scenario it wouldn¡¯t lead back to him, and the possible reward was as insane as the plan, so he had taken the gamble. For safety, they were only informed on a need-to-know basis, so he didn¡¯t have much beyond that. His task had been to put the right people at the right positions in the powerplant. They were not in the know ¨C as far as he could tell ¨C just controllable people with the right skills. He didn¡¯t recall most of their names, and he had had to let go of a few competent people, but he had managed. He kept telling himself he would repay those he had wronged and still have enough to do be one of the richest men of the First Circle, and maybe even beyond! That was how great the reward would be, and that let him continue. For the rest, he only knew the broad lines: use an explosion in the plant to send something through the vault and keep the Enforcers busy, and use a distraction to get away with it. He had heard that the distraction would be some noisy mutant who couldn¡¯t help but disturb everyone around them for attention, but that was it. Others would be tasked with retrieving the 3G and covering up the disappearance. The explosion had happened as planned, and everything had turned wrong. The safety room had been launched with him inside, and he had realised he had been played and discarded. There was no way an error would give that result; the room was not even in the right direction. Whoever they were, they didn¡¯t aim for a vault but for the Core, and they wanted to get rid of him. All his efforts and sacrifices had been in vain, he had been nothing but an expandable pawn to them. He had snapped, he was remorseful for what he had done, and- he was ready to keep going but Zax interrupted him. They didn¡¯t need to hear his wimpy excuses. That was as far as not-Zila knew. He had made many other attempts at rousing sympathy, but they were simply pathetic. He didn¡¯t even notice how his egoism showed through his own words; only talking about himself even among a group and being unable to name who he had discarded. The interrogation and retelling had seemed to last an eternity, but it was finally over. Some details had only seemed irrelevant at first, others had stayed irrelevant, questions had been asked multiple times with different wordings and in varying orders, but they ended up with as complete a picture of the situation as possible. Zax was glad he hadn¡¯t had to pay attention, because there was no way he would¡¯ve remembered everything in one sitting. He didn¡¯t even pay attention not-Zila¡¯s real name, who he was running from or why. On the other hand, he didn¡¯t care. He also made sure not to deduce from what he heard, that was an analysts¡¯ job. He didn¡¯t have much success on that part, but at least it wasn¡¯t included in the recording. However, his troubles were not over. [ Query to Zax (Rescuer): what punishment or reward would be deemed appropriate? ] Zax was at a loss, but he answered as best he could. He tried to be professional, but disgust tainted his every word: ¡°He willingly and purposefully hindered the Shelter¡¯s functioning for personal gain. It¡¯s literally the worse thing someone can do. He sacrificed people, endangered some, killed others. His actions already cost a lot of resources and fixing them will cost even more. He is the antithesis of what anyone in the Shelter should be. It doesn¡¯t matter what Circle you come from and what your job is, everyone is taught from their youngest age that supporting the growth of the Shelter is the most important task. That should be everyone¡¯s priority, no matter how small or how far removed their role is. Every part of the Shelter is built around one purpose: to make it grow. It¡¯s why and how the Core, the dot and the Circles are what they are. It¡¯s why and how we support each other. It¡¯s why and how our species survived. It¡¯s why and how our culture exists. It¡¯s why and how people¡¯s worth is measured. It¡¯s why and how deep and useful mutations are a boon that will get you closer to the outside world. If you renege that goal, what¡¯s the point of improving yourself? What is the point of working at all? Why is the 3G precious? Why do mutations matter? Why is Explorer the dream job every child dreamed of at least once in their life? Why have I lost all my friends one after the other!?¡± Without realising, anger had gradually overcome his disgust and by the end, Zax was shouting, words and raw emotions spilling uncontrolled. He took a deep breath in and held it a few seconds to calm down, and let it go. He continued at a more normal volume, back on topic and more to the point: ¡°He¡¯s an enemy of the Shelter itself. I can¡¯t think of any punishment that would be harsh enough. His crimes are too big to fit within our laws. Even if spread among however many people were part of this¡­ plan.¡± Not-Zila wanted to protest, but the tirade made him reconsider. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about how harsh it will be, I¡¯ll take care of that. I want your idea of what type of punishment would fit.¡± Not a message box anymore? Now that he was calmed down, and after some consideration, Zax remembered something Quinn had told him once, talking about some of her more unruly charges: ¡°Er¡­ I¡¯ve been told that the best way to fix a bad behaviour is to give them exactly what they want, but more than they can handle.¡± Some children had skipped school to play in the gym, she had made them work out until they collapsed, in multiple sessions. They ended up with perfect attendance sheets, and got the fear of her seeded deep in their hearts, but didn¡¯t renounce sports as a whole. ¡°But that can¡¯t apply here. He wanted more 3G, and not even to do something specific. Just to be rich. You can¡¯t have too much-¡± ¡°Got it. Here are your instructions. To read after the changing room. Leave now.¡± The Core cut him before he could finish and transferred a file to his nanites before closing the line. I hope it didn¡¯t do anything with my nanites. Or to them. He hadn¡¯t thought that possible, but why wouldn¡¯t it? His nanites were connected to the scanner, that was connected to the computer, that had a direct line to the Core. He had been extremely careless, and he had never been so relieved that while his nanites could do serious damages in virtue of where they were, they could not affect his subconscious or his thought process. He would still need a detailed examination of his body, his psyche and his nanites when everything was said and done, just to be sure, but that would come later. At the moment, he had other instructions to follow, and it didn¡¯t sound like it would be to go back to the dot. That didn¡¯t bode well, again, and it was getting tiresome. Zax silently stopped the production of nanites he had started the first time he was in that room, turned the computer off, and gathered everything up, including his nanites and the prisoner. They left without a word. The furniture items were still where they had been moved to make room, but he couldn¡¯t put them back on his own, and he wasn¡¯t about to untie the prisoner or ask for his help. As an afterthought, he also sent a silent command to close back his mask over his eyes, mouth and ears. Just in case. In the ring surrounding the factory, the echoes of his steps once again hammered home how huge this place was. He tried to not let it unease him, but they still arrived at the changing rooms faster than expected. There were traces of the other group, namely misplaced protection gears and a haphazardly filled briefcase with mismatched parts. Zax quickly tidied everything up when he removed his own, out of habit. Unlike them, he was not in a hurry. His generator was shy of out of power, and the pair¡¯s had been long before they left. Taking them had been a waste of time and space, but he didn¡¯t blame himself; they had no way of knowing this room was nothing more than an obligatory checkpoint on their way. He would¡¯ve loved to ask about the forcefields suits, the pros and cons for his job, but it felt like pushing his luck. Keeping the new nanites he had had access to was already enough, and he still wasn¡¯t sure he would get to retain them. They were a type he never thought he would have the chance to work with ever. He made the swarm into a blocky backpack, filled with nanites blocks for ease of transport, and deactivated them to avoid accidents. Trying not to gawk at how compact the result was ¨C a swarm that size didn¡¯t have any right to be that small and light ¨C he took it and left. After the changing rooms was pure darkness. Zax had forgotten there was no light in that area. The others might have regretted not taking his nanite balls when he proposed. Zax activated one of his to lit the way, chuckling at the thought. In front of them was a short hallway leading to a small room with two familiar recesses in the far wall. One metre deep, rounded angles, the same type that had made him pass the Wall; it seemed so long ago. There hadn¡¯t been anything like that before, so it confirmed again that the Core could rearrange the place as it wanted. Not that it changed anything. Zax pushed not-Zila in the smaller, wider opening, which disappeared in an instant. It didn¡¯t close like a door, the wall literally melted up on itself. So that¡¯s what it looks like from outside. Neat. Zax went to the man-sized hole, which sealed itself after him in same fashion. He hoped against hope that the Core didn¡¯t need him any further, but something was telling him it was impossible. It took embarrassingly long to remember why. ¡°Ah, right, it left other instructions. An ordinary text document, reassuring- what the stars is that!?¡± Chapter 20 - Excess Zax¡¯s neural nanites used custom-made software and language. They could send data and orders to other devices, but receiving them required special conversion, such as the translator installed in Zax¡¯s bracelet. The syntax was naturally too different even if the vocable was similar. When the Core had hacked into his nanites, it likely used brute force, figuratively; it overloaded them with information to take over weakened areas and use its own ¡®pareidolia¡¯ program, but it hadn¡¯t been able to understand the local language. Therefore, it wasn¡¯t surprising that the Core had left his instructions in a basic file. Better to use a common format and send it to other, non-neural nanites using more common software. A text was as good as any other format. Another point against the Core tempering with his mind, too. The complexity its content made Zax reconsider the value of this reasoning. His orders were simple and plainly labelled, but confusing, but why were there so many text pictures? Why were they so detailed? The end result was so large no screen, holographic or not, would be wide enough to see everything at once. And all those possible scenarios to manually sort through? An interactive format would definitely be more appropriate. Or maybe that was on purpose? To slow him down? Whatever it was, he was too tired to speculate about it anymore. It could be just to flex for all I know. When the space opened to his destination ¨C not the dot, as he feared ¨C it at least gave context to the pictures. The setup was relatively simple; he was in a bedroom sized control room with many dials and levers, pullies and valves. The walls, floor and roof were dull white, and everything else was various shades of grey. The controls each affected something in the neighbouring test room, and the text file told him what they did and roughly how. With characters arranged in pictures. The most surprising was the total lack of electronics in the room; not even a button to push, everything was mechanical. Even the lighting was from phosphorescent plates on the roof and walls, with mirrors sending light through the transparent far wall and into the test room. That room was the same size, but with a faraway ceiling and totally empty save for its occupant: not-Zila, freed, shaken and still naked. His eyes locked on Zax as soon as he stepped in. His lips were moving, but Zax couldn¡¯t make anything out. After signing that and confirming it was mutual, he focused on his task. Fill the main vat, empty it, rinse and repeat, until nothing happens. That was the gist of it. He was to take his time too, so that was some pressure off his shoulders. He could pour over the schematics and actually understand what it was all about. The most important controls were obvious from their size and position at the centre, facing the test room; one lever opened a sluicing gate, filling a tank out of sight above them and a second one opened a grated aperture in the centre of the test room. A dial between them determined how much that tank could be filled, but there was no number on the dial. Only one gate could be open at a time, and the dial couldn¡¯t be moved unless both were closed. An ¡°Integrated Safety measure¡±, the diagrams claimed. The other controls were all around the room and could affect many parameters of the test room, from its brightness to its dimensions. For some reason it could be cooled somewhat, but not heated. To avoid any screw ups, Zax used his nanites to make tags and write what each did, fiddling with some to be sure he wasn¡¯t mistaking them. He had a hunch as to what the Core wanted, but it didn¡¯t make sense. Still, he could only follow through. Zax set the amount dial to one click and pulled the first lever to fill the vat. The amount was quickly reached and the lever moved back, letting Zax pull the other. The circular opening in the test room¡¯s roof opened like a diaphragm, prompting not-Zila to press his back in a corner, where he could only watch and wait for what was about to fall. It was¡­ a drop? It was too small for Zax so see, but he would describe it as a dull green, round drop of mercury. An acid? Was he supposed to torture the prisoner until the Core had enough? No, this place was not adapted to that¡­ His worries disappeared and his hunch was confirmed when not-Zila identified the substance and threw himself at it. When his hand touched it, the drop simply vanished, and he looked back at Zax with exited eyes, laughing and thoroughly enjoying himself. He put himself under the aperture, arms spread, calling for more. Zax couldn¡¯t hear the shouts, but he didn¡¯t need to. It seemed the Core took his idea literally. I expected a bit more glow in the famed Glowing Green Goo. It was the first time Zax peeked at it for real despite 3G units being the lone currency of the Shelter, as the dot used a dematerialised system. They never manipulated it physically, only digital numbers, and any withdrawal was to be absorbed directly at the few strategically placed and highly secured distribution points, like the one targeted by not-Zila and his team. Technically, it wasn¡¯t forbidden to take some and store it on your own, but there was no point. Even small exchanges were no more than a few finger swipes away on their bracelet, and underground trade found it easier and more cost-effective to make a temporary fake account than to keep and hide actual 3G. If a living being merely grazed it, they would lose a big part of their stash. The Circles had deeper mutations and stronger disruptive fields, so using computers wouldn¡¯t be wise. Only wide scale transactions were dematerialised, and not purely with computers, but Zax didn¡¯t know what they used. Some advanced biotechnology, no doubt. Daily interactions used actual 3G, sealed in standardised containers. Zax had seen it on TV, but since the 3G wasn¡¯t detectable by technology and thus didn¡¯t appear on camera, he only ever saw props or the containers themselves; small and flat metal boxes with a transparent circle in the centre, with different shapes and sizes for different values. The see-through part allowed one to visually check for the presence, amount and purity of the product, and the containers were made for easy absorption and refill of the content. It was no wonder the former Resident could identify it at a glance. Zax thought he would be more cautious than that, however. Or did he only expect to be rewarded? Well, he couldn¡¯t be blamed for that; Zax himself didn¡¯t see how that could be a punishment. There was no such thing as ¡°too much 3G¡±. Any absorbed 3G was somehow stored throughout the organism, dormant until the next activation. Zax had already studied the question, and had never heard of adverse effects, no matter the quantity or duration. On the other hand, it would assuage some of his previous doubts. Someone had to be there because the Core couldn¡¯t detect the 3G and wouldn¡¯t discern if it was doing nothing. He was the best choice among the group because he didn¡¯t mutate, meaning he had no reason to try and get some 3G for himself, risking sabotage of whatever was going on. The room lacked electronics because mechanical devices were significantly less sensitive to the disruptive fields and an activation was fully expected. It had been obvious, really. Zax had just refused to consider the criminal would be rewarded. He still did. The layout and uniformity of the room also made Zax surmise that the Core had built everything on its own. All the pipes were in a single piece, not a joint was visible even at angles, all solidary pieces seemed moulded as a single part, not a screw or a nail present; all of which was compatible with full nanite construction. Deactivated to not be affected by the coming disruption, of course. Zax frowned. He was confident in his conclusions, but it didn¡¯t solve his main issue. Still, there was nothing he could do but continue. He started by asserting and tagging values on the amount dial, progressively increasing it and comparing the size and colour of what was falling straight on his willing subject. Not easy since it disappeared so fast on contact, but he managed. The colour was always the same, the levers took steadily longer to pull themselves back, and the size increased linearly with the number of clicks. Simple. Once done, he chose a small amount and pulled the levers one after the other. He quickly fell in a rhythm, filling the vat, emptying it, filling it again, emptying it again, pulling a lever after the other. He didn¡¯t even watch the subject anymore. Somehow, the repetitiveness reminded him of his first jobs. And as with them, he let go of his thoughts and worries, his mind ebbing and drifting away. He wondered how long had passed since his abrupt awakening by the emergency alarm. A full day? Half a day? A few hours? Time had passed so fast and yet so slow, he couldn¡¯t tell. He hadn¡¯t checked the hour since he woke up, so his inner clock wouldn¡¯t help. He knew it wasn¡¯t several days, at least. What had Aran done afterwards? General information about the incident were a mere query away on her bracelet, but she could only guess why he had been called or what his role had been. Information about the Wall and its nanites wouldn¡¯t reach the public reports anytime soon, but people talked, and she knew her way around people. Would she put the effort? Ask for more details? Go to the scene? Keep on going with her life normally? Hoping she closed the door behind her. There are children in the complex. What did the Enforcers do when they received his message? Keeping watch over the damaged wall and the surrounding was obvious, but besides that? Quarantining his B-Box shouldn¡¯t be hard for them, but did they take his warning seriously? And even if they did, what did they do about it? He had warned them since despite his expertise, or maybe because of it, he hadn¡¯t trusted the Core ¨C still didn¡¯t, actually ¨C but he couldn¡¯t fathom what they could do. Would do. Should do. His musings were interrupted when his test subject did more than enjoy himself. His 3G finally activated, and he mutated. For a few moments, Zax couldn¡¯t help but consider that this whole adventure had been worth it. In the dot, mutations were usually small scale, quickly done, subtle, or at least discreet. The most obvious would be a patch of hair or scales growing, or a change in colour somewhere. More than that in a single activation would be ground to celebration, even when it was not as huge as growing new limbs. Actually, the destruction of any and all active electric components around, from the disruptive field, was usually the most obvious sign someone nearby was changing, and it was over before one could turn around. That was not the case here. It started with a low green glow on his whole body, only visible thanks to his nakedness and the lack of light source around him. The same light sharpened and brightened in specific parts of his body, marking dots and connecting them with lines, drawing glowing veins. They moved with his every movement, giving the illusion of being drawn not on, but through his body. Quite uncanny, but also¡­ Fascinating! Zax spotted a few places with increased numbers and close to actual shapes that could match where actual organs would be. Before the veins were complete, they¡­blurred, somehow. It reminded Zax of a filter on a picture, like censorship. Movement followed. It was not clear at all, but something was definitely shuffling around. No matter where he observed or how much he focused on a single area, Zax couldn¡¯t define what he was seeing; the lines were wriggling, twisting, zapping, some lines breaking, joining, fading, knotting¡­ a jumble of hidden movement he couldn¡¯t hope to follow. So, he didn¡¯t try, focusing instead on the more obvious effect; the bodily changes. They were stronger and faster at places the lines glowed the brightest, one part of the body after the other. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. His remaining wounds fully healed, the replaced parts already green and scaly with the coming mutations. He grew taller and slimer. His bones stretched but his muscles didn¡¯t widen to compensate. Supple green and yellow scales grew all over his body with a clean and efficient layout; none overlapping or sticking out. His nails slightly retracted but didn¡¯t change much. His irises grew yellow as his sclera retracted and his tongue blackened, but both kept their original shapes and sizes, which as emphasised by the slight changes in his skull¡¯s shape. The structure didn¡¯t seem to be altered but his face was notably rounder and longer; although not enough to be called a proto-muzzle. Or a proto-snout. Several points went against Zax¡¯s expectations. The subject¡¯s growth didn¡¯t include an increase in muscle mass, neglecting strength and power, probably in favour of something else. He also kept his hair, which was a common loss among scalies. Zax wondered what his scalp felt like, untouched or with tiny scales between follicles? Lastly, he didn¡¯t grow any hint of a tail, not even signs of preparation for one to come. When the 3G was totally consumed, lines faded in an instant, following by the general glow, stopping the mutation. The subject kept looking at himself, turning around to catch the light of the control room, trying to see every part of his body. His exhilaration was pouring off his non-existent pores. It had lasted at least half a minute, and the result was mostly human with snake features. The all but hidden nails and new facial shape were most telling; it was specifically a snake, not a lizard, not another reptile; not a general reptile, but not a specific snake either. The colours and their position didn¡¯t match any; and the possibly temporary lack of hood and fangs were not helping to narrow it down. Zax would say it wasn¡¯t an existing species, but while he had studied the question for his hobby, he wouldn¡¯t call himself a quotable source. [ Emergency recording successful ] [ Archive E0195 saved ] Totally forgot about that! Zax had made a program set to automatically record all his sensory input if he thought there was an activation nearby, both as training and for fun, but in vain so far. Not to say it didn¡¯t work; there had been many close calls over time. A hundred and ninety-four, apparently. He would browse this recording at leisure later. He had first hand observation to sort through first. The glow and glowing veins justified the name given to the substance at least, although it didn¡¯t sound particularly scientific. Zax had read about the veins, they appeared when the mutation was deep or spread enough, but they didn¡¯t match at all with what the dramas and special effects showed. From the reports he knew, what had transpired was a typical mutation in the First Circle. Average depth, average result, immediately functional but probably not done and to be completed in further activations. Which wouldn¡¯t happen until he got some 3G back in the organism and fulfilled the conditions. Common for a poor person at the end of their career or a rich person anytime. Way beyond what any dotter could ever hope. Zax couldn¡¯t assess the less visible changes, the inner organs and physiology, but there didn¡¯t seem to be major deviations. The subject was still wounded during the activation, so his enhanced healing had definitely been improved further, but the actual healing couldn¡¯t be used as a reference. There was no way to measure how much had been fixed by his body and how much the 3G had simply replaced the damaged parts. As the human was making his conclusions, the new snakeman was testing his body, and Zax realised two things: the strength he hadn¡¯t developed had been spent on flexibility but not reflexes, and the other controls of the room could be used to orient the mutations and prevent the subject from getting¡­ uncontainable. Among other things. He did ponder about that, only the two levers and one dial seemed relevant so far. Unfortunately, the rooms didn¡¯t offer many ways to measure the changes in an uncooperative subject. Not wanting to look at a gift horse in the mouth, as he had already seen more than expected, Zax went back to his task, but this time he experimented with the different controls available. Actually experimented, not simply try everything randomly and see what happened. He had been hammered that lesson in long ago. He started simple: mixing the 3G with water. Where did that water come from? Why did the Core have access to it? No idea. The results changed the viscosity and opacity of the sample, but nothing else. The sample was absorbed like pure 3G albeit a bit slower, not leaving even water behind unless the sample was extremely diluted. The remaining water was still drinkable. Same result with alcohol, even in lethal concentrations, and edible oils even in lethal amounts. Non-edible oils found themselves emptied of 3G, leaving a puddle or a stain on the floor and the subject¡¯s body. His scales didn¡¯t seem grease friendly. Acidic solutions behaved like water, with direct contact normally burning the subject until the absorption removed the sample. No inner damages constated, the subject didn¡¯t seem uncomfortable beyond the surface burn. Zax wasn¡¯t aiming for any kind of reputation in any scientific field, so he wouldn¡¯t deny having used that information to make the prisoner force himself to endure pain to get his fix. He healed faster with each activation anyways. Zax likewise mixed different solvents, varied the temperature, forced activations by inflicting injuries, and generally enjoyed himself. He had studied the effect of the 3G, but never how it ended up in the organism; that had never been a concern. He probably didn¡¯t make any breakthrough, and it was doubtlessly pointless, but he learnt a lot. He was able to test a few common theories too, like the influence of purity, and the priority between needs, conscious wants and unconscious desires. Eventually, the good time had to end. He had likely spent many times the whole dot¡¯s annual consumption of 3G already; the subject would be hard to recognise to any former acquaintances. The successive activations had made the subject¡¯s scales resistant to strong acids and bases, and apparently dulled or removed altogether his pain receptors. They were now a dull silvery grey, either as side effect of their new resistances or as an attempt at camouflage in the white room. He had ended up losing his hair too, replaced by the same scales as the rest. His articulations were actually elastic, for increased range of movement and mobility, so he wouldn¡¯t have to stand straight under the vat and could touch the spilled content on his own terms. His limbs and torso had elongated, and his neck had lengthened by a few cervical vertebras, as flexible as the rest of his body. He could stare at his own back without turning, and Zax was as good as sure he could only see infrared. He had strongly turned the room¡¯s temperature down and the brightness up specifically to make normal sight unattractive, and the subject¡¯s pupils were reduced to a thin vertical line amid pale irises, only visible because of the contrast. Still no sclera in sight, but unlike before it fit with the rest of his face, as it harmonised with his new fully formed muzzle, with forked tongue, venomous fangs, and even an expandable jaw. That one was pretty rare. Zax couldn¡¯t figure out what effect his venom would have, but he was sure that tongue could actually taste air, like an actual snake¡¯s. His forehead had reduced in size and his skull had rounded further to complement his sleekness, but his field of view was still front facing; his eyes hadn¡¯t moved to the side, showing he still had some way to go with his mutations. Still no hood either. Changing every part of the skull at once, or at least keeping the jaw for last would have been easier, making alterations that built off of each other, so that was noteworthy. A hesitation in who or what to become? Or just how to reach it? Another point toward that theory was the tail he had sprouted. It had pushed out of his coccyx, progressively getting as long as his whole body, its base thicker than a leg, fully prehensible and strong enough to lift and throw his whole body from the ground. With its dimensions and power, there was no doubt that it was made for constriction. Zax had two problems with that appendage. First, a snake¡¯s body was mostly its back, only the very tip was an actual tail. That was a scientifically proven fact. The neck changes of the subject could be argued to follow a snake¡¯s template, but not his tail. Unfortunately, Zax couldn¡¯t determine if there were ribs in there either. Second, natural snakes can be venomous or constricting, but never both, and mutants tended to follow that rule. The subject¡¯s shrug and neutral acceptance also hinted that it was not a long-lost dream of his. Regardless, Zax had to ensure that the new limb and strength wouldn¡¯t be used for untoward goals, so he reduced the changing room to stop him from gathering momentum. He shouldn¡¯t have the technique or know-how to do so, but better safe than sorry. His tail might even bother him and shrink or disappear, so that was another experiment to try. That would make sense, who ever had enough 3G for trial and error? To be fair, his experiments and forced activations made it hard to determine an optimal result for the mutation. The subject had already gained and lost claws, spikes and spines, webbing, digitigrade or pseudo-ungulate footing and various other features. Zax had never heard of something like that, even in theories, except for emergency activations forced by a great danger that the mutant wouldn¡¯t survive. Even the scales¡¯ colour pattern had had several iterations before settling on the current silvery grey. It had led to unprecedented questions; Zax was never the philosophical type. He has had everything he ever needed and wanted and then some, what does he want now? When one has all needs and wants fulfilled, what does one strive for? ¡­ wait, is that the punishment? It was certainly plausible; the subject¡¯s excitement had totally faded. He simply sat in a corner, with a piece of his tail under the opening in the ceiling. He had long stopped being exited or fearful of what would come. It couldn¡¯t hurt him anymore. Zax was also out of experiments to try with this installation. The only one he could consider was to fill the room with water or other to try for an amphibious or submarine mutation, but the room didn¡¯t have any evacuation. He couldn¡¯t prevent the subject from using that to escape either; he could stay afloat until he reached the hole in the roof, or gain a mutation to swim and jump there if the water didn¡¯t reach high enough. Not willing to try it, the dotter simply lowered the light back to low-normal levels and constated the lack of dilatation in the vertical iris of the subject. He didn¡¯t show any reaction besides briefly glancing around. He noticed. Not pure infrared sight, but only adapted to high light environment. That should change at the next activation. They were both resigned to be bored out of their minds until the Core let them go, but the next activation wasn¡¯t like the others. So far, the general glow that announced an activation had been weak, but constant even when the lines had been faint, invisible or localised ¨C when there had been barely enough effect to heal a wound or for a minor mutation. This time, the general glow was a lot stronger and¡­ flickering, and the veins were already blurred when they appeared. Even if they were still as hard to pinpoint, they moved¡­ erratically, for a lack of a better word. Before, there was a clean harmony in the chaos of the changes, it seemed so natural that Zax hadn¡¯t noticed. Now, the lines seemed to fight each other, and Zax was all but sure he glimpsed at collisions and impacts. The subject wasn¡¯t in pain, but he was definitely uneased by what he felt in his body, palpating his torso with a frown. After that the glowing veins collapsed on each other, and his body followed. Calling it uncanny would be insulting. Terrifying was closer, but didn¡¯t do it justice. Unnatural, ghastly, aberrant were all applicable, but barely scratched the surface. One area after the other, the hazy veins lost their substance, suffusing through not-Zila¡¯s body, and that part simply melted. It didn¡¯t flow, it merely lost all cohesion and structure, ending as some sort of uniform fluid. When the middle of his forearm fell to the phenomenon, his hand fell to the ground, the puddle still connected to the upper arm with a thin string, and the dropped limb was still moving and feeling! His tail was like pieces of ice in a growing puddle. His face lost all features, even eyes and muzzle warping like wet clay when he tried to slap himself awake. Not-Zilla tried to rub his body, to hold the liquid in place, to push it away, to stay in place, to run around, but there was no escaping this nightmare. Soon he had not enough legs to stay up. Not enough arm to move around. Not enough torso to hold his head up. Not enough face to recognize a person. Not enough of anything to identify a living creature. Only a puddle of unknown liquid in an empty room. Zax could only stand and watch, frozen in shock and horror, from start to finish. His mind was blank, passively observing, unresponsive even when the¡­ result eventually lost its greenish glow and coalesced in an ovoid lump. He didn¡¯t register the glass wall, pipes and dials sliding in the walls, floor and ceiling. He didn¡¯t notice the floor lower under him and trap him in a lightless box. The box opened in front of him. Light flooded, he blinked. People were circling him. He could hear them, shouting and gesturing, but the words didn¡¯t reach his consciousness. Armed people. Enforcers, losing patience at his lack of reaction. It took a long time to discern that he was back in the dot. Is it over? Realisation pulled him out of his fugue. He released a breath he didn¡¯t know he was holding, his legs collapsing under him. Pushing through the relief, the anguish, the physical and emotional exhaustion, a single thought reached his lips: ¡°There can be too much 3G.¡± Chapter 21 - Its Over What a mess¡­ still, it could¡¯ve been a lot worse. Enforcer team leader Bor tiredly sighed as he proof-read his final report. It had been a long and exhausting week since his team had been called to handle the powerplant incident and its fallout. It had started relatively normally, as far as emergencies went: a powerplant had had a critical failure with tragic consequences. Such a massive accident was extremely rare, but they had trained for that. They knew how to handle it. Complications they had no way of expecting had sprouted one after the other, forcing him to adapt and make quick but high stakes decisions. They had trained for that too, but it had just been ludicrous. For some unfathomable reason, two Residents from the first Circle had been present and wanted to be involved. They had no special authority, but forcefully removing them would take too much effort. They were not equipped to handle advanced mutants. Luckily, they kept each other busy with ceaseless bickering, so it was easy enough to put them aside and ignore the noise. Overpowered children. Their local contact was suspicious, but the rest of their retinue knew their job and were a helpful addition to the task force. At least until the civilian consultant had arrived, but more on that later. The relevant specialist had easily found the cause of the incident; an undetectable misalignment somewhere had produced a phase-shift in some rays, which had resonated somewhere, accumulating energy until something snapped and released it all at once. Beyond the scientific mumbo-jumbo, it was plainly a freak occurrence, a pure accident, and easy to prevent in the future. A testament to the dot¡¯s habit of prioritising safety and drilling safety protocols, there had been a lot of injuries but very few deaths. When reports of the slingshot room had arrived ¨C a nickname that had somehow stuck ¨C Bor had first thought it was a joke or an exaggeration, as witnesses tended to do, but many safety cameras had caught it. He had suspected foul play of course, how could that happen, and straight to the core? That was too much of a coincidence. He had sent a request to investigate, but rescuing the people inside took priority. The mission always comes first. The Main Computer had somehow managed to let them step in the no-man¡¯s land, but they couldn¡¯t get past the Wall. They had been in a dead-end until that civilian expert had arrived. He hadn¡¯t seemed much at first; he himself didn¡¯t know why he had been called, but he had quickly proven his value by identifying the true nature of the Wall. He even had a possible plan to open it. He had also revealed the actual unreliability of the Residents¡¯ men, and managed to make them stop their squabble for a moment. Bor himself hadn¡¯t managed that. The expert had nanites in his own body, which was insane, and incredibly creepy! Probably effective however, as the plan had more or less worked; although only the civilian expert and the two Residents had been allowed inside. He had hated that decision, but it was either that or leave the victims be and give up on the mission. He could only pretend the situation was still under control and give them what he could. Not long after the Wall had swallowed the three, the expert¡¯s ¡°Box¡± had spewed an ominous warning. He hadn¡¯t been quite sure of what to think at first, or why the expert hadn¡¯t warned them orally beforehand, but that wasn¡¯t hard to guess. They had quarantined the box and prepared as best they could against any nanite or nanite-controlled people. There was no protocol for that but other experts had been called for advice. From afar. Strikingly, they had all mentioned the first one as reference for nanite construction and organic interfacing, and only one also used her own body as storage, but only in her ventral pouch, courtesy of a marsupial mutation. After that they could only wait and adapt on the fly to whatever would come their way. Whenever that would be. It had ended up being hours after the operation on the powerplant side had been completed ¨C without surprises, luckily. The Wall had opened swallow holes, revealing gurneys with two unconscious people, a man and a woman, and a covered corpse. A small memory unit was tapped on the later, ostensibly for them. The operation had not been a fruitless sacrifice, at least. Their preparations had been useful, as it was the only reason they had detected that all three had been full of nanites. After that it had been easy enough to take care of it. The same could be said of the gurneys themselves and one of the covers on the victims. They had been made of nanites too, but already deactivated. Bor hadn¡¯t even known it was possible, but after the Wall it wasn¡¯t as much of a surprise. The memory unit, after a check for viruses and other nefarious components, had a brief but complete report of the status so far, right up to the group gathering in the computer room, along with a file in a format they couldn¡¯t read. They had adjusted their preparations according to the report, while the IT team had studied the other file. They had eventually identified a type of recording, which had made them strangely flustered. They had found an API to read the file like a standard VR recording; it was raw, unfiltered data, and an excellent proof and support for the report. It shouldn¡¯t be a concern, but the veteran Enforcer respected the precaution. Most don¡¯t realise the administrative and legal struggle we handle behind the scenes. He was still digesting the content of the file when the Wall moved again. Four people this time, all conscious, including the Residents. That was still two people missing. As last time, the newcomers had immediately been quarantined and examined. The Residents had complained of course, but mentioning the expert¡¯s name with his warning had made them cooperative enough. They were not bickering either. It almost made them seem like different people. As expected, that pair had nanites in their bodies; they had swallowed the balls in front of everyone. They had forgotten about it ¨C somehow ¨C but they had still them deactivated and extracted with great relief. The new pair, a petite woman and a massive man, were clean of nanites, but the man was in a sorry state and barely hanging on to consciousness. He lost it as soon as he was around medical personnel. The diagnostic they had received in the first report had probably saved his life. The woman was worried but fine, physically. The three conscious ones gave reports of what had happened, along with another memory unit containing a copy of the files they already had, and another that continued where the other had left, up to the group¡¯s separation. Those reports were¡­ hard to swallow, and way above his pay grade. In his career, he had seen more than his share of disgusting behaviours, he could understand ¨C not accept ¨C falling for your darkest urges amid chaos, but coldly risking the Shelter as a whole? That was insane! And they hadn¡¯t found any evidence of intent behind the incident, even now it still looked like a true accident. Just, who is behind all this? As uneasy as it had made him, Bor had no other choice than to transmit the news to relevant parties, more able to analyse and react to the news. It was too much and beyond him. There had been two people still in the Core, but he had been unsure on whether to wait for them. He had ended up keeping a reduced force around what had become the expected exit point, just in case. Hours later, the civilian expert had arrived, but something was distinctly off. He was worryingly pale, he shuddered and twitched sporadically, but more concerning was his attitude. He seemed to be¡­ not all there. He hadn¡¯t reacted to their presence, questions or commands for uncomfortably long seconds, and when he finally had, he hadn¡¯t spoken a word. Whatever had happened in there, it had deeply shaken him. He had eventually been put in quarantine close to the others, and at the weak insistence of the medical staff, he totally purged his body of nanites. For the first time in years, according to his medical file. The idea was disturbing, and it would take days due to the complexity and depth of his integration, as opposed to the Residents done in minutes, but explaining the different types of nanites and how they worked to the nurses, so they could follow his check-up, had helped him come back to normal. Before purging his nanites, he had made another memory unit. The content was as the others, plus a separated file labelled Punishment. Bor was genuinely glad it only recorded physical perceptions, as he didn¡¯t want to feel what seeing and doing that first hand had been. Deeply shaken, indeed. Silver lining, those recordings were comprehensive enough that he wouldn¡¯t have to be interrogated for a report and go through all that again. Unsurprisingly, part of that last recording had been censored and cut from the public report; besides the identity of the involved people. Not the expected part however, only the part about the unknown group of people willing to kill en masse for personal profit. The punishment had been marked for sensitive content, but not hidden. Bor had still been allowed to use the hidden parts in his investigation about the felon group. That was what he had spent the following days on, to no avail. Even the most obvious point, their affiliation with the Black Market, was too hazy, too disputable to throw an accusation. Not to say he had been stalled. Quite the opposite, everybody, suspect or not, had been fully cooperative even if not cordial. This lack of resistance had been the most frustrating part, somehow. Every potential lead had been barely not enough to prevent plausible deniability, hardly clean enough to not warrant a search. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Until this morning, when he had received the order to close the case for lack of progress. Again, a not quite suspicious enough point; it was slightly more than the minimum period of no progress required to give that order, but far from enough for an affair of such proportion. That group was dangerous! They could be anywhere. They could be anyone! Alas, he was out of leads to pursue, he didn¡¯t expect any new ones, and even the Main Computer didn¡¯t find anything to say. He could only summarise his findings in his last report and go check on the quarantine wing of the healing centre. *** ¡°Goodbye Miss Pen, see you tomorrow! Don¡¯t push too hard.¡± Aran bid farewell to her main customer of the last few weeks, an old woman, former teacher and way too active for her own good. The tailed girl couldn¡¯t tell if it was innate or due to a mutation, but she was more concerned with the state she kept finding her home in. It was average in size, well-furnished and homely, but constantly covered in moulted fur! It wasn¡¯t an abnormal fur loss, it was even pretty common among the older furred population, but she had to come and clean the place basically every day. There were things Miss Pen simply couldn¡¯t keep up with, and she wasn¡¯t particularly interested in this specific task either. What a strange teacher she must have been. The home helper, done with her last task of the day, went to her usual hanging point this week, the medical centre Zax was in. She had been quite confused when he had left his apartment in the middle of the night, then worried when she heard of an incident in a powerplant near the core. It didn¡¯t take a genius to add two and two, but the public reports didn¡¯t help; there had been nothing requiring a common handyman with a knack for nanotechnology and a hobby of studying mutations. Because of the Residents? Seemed unlikely. She had been on site, but it was barred by Enforcers. She couldn¡¯t get closer, too risky. They would see her. She had been ready to look for a new mark to spend the night with, but the key card Zax had given her was still active. The neighbours were kind and wouldn¡¯t be surprised by her presence, so she could keep using it. She wouldn¡¯t dare to admit it, but it had been a relief. She had kept an eye on the situation, but there was nothing that could involve Zax. All the hype about a team in the Core didn¡¯t help, although it was a noteworthy moment. She didn¡¯t learn anything about Zax until late the next day, when he sent a message on her bracelet. It didn¡¯t say much, an apology for his hasty departure, that he would be busy for a while yet, to not worry about him and that she could keep using his apartment. It was great news, dampened by how much more relieved she had felt that he was fine than at being allowed to stay. She hadn¡¯t thought about him as a mark for a while, and she wanted to help his self-esteem issues, but¡­ was she getting attached? No, she knew she couldn¡¯t. She was simply confused because she had never stayed in one place so long. Yes, that had to be it. She had kept the unpleasant thoughts away by focusing on the strange part of the message: the sender was unknown. A few queries to her bracelet revealed it to be a certain healing centre that had been heavily featured in the news recently. After some hesitation, she had gone to it, to see if she could figure something out. The message had been of reassurance, but Zax being kept in such a place for an undetermined duration and unable to send a message by himself had her imagination run wild. The news didn¡¯t mention any responder being hurt. To her surprise, she had been led in and to the quarantine area, a normal wing that had been specially equipped to handle any kind of contagion. It didn¡¯t see much use. Zax was resting in a sterile room. They were separated by a glass wall but could still talk to each other. He looked¡­ tired. Also surprised and glad to see her. He roughly explained what was going on and what had happened, to her great stupefaction. Per precaution, the doctors wanted to remove every foreign body before letting him go. He didn¡¯t believe it was necessary, but as the one with potentially affected brain cells he couldn¡¯t trust his own judgement either. It would still take several days to safely remove them all; they had not been made and programmed with easy absorption and expulsion in mind. From then on, she came by at least once a day. She only wanted to keep Zax updated on her progress with the Stat Maker game, get his advice on how to improve her score and continue their programming lessons for the WIL stat she wanted to add, but the lack on any technology in his bedroom made it challenging. The knowing glances between nurses told her rumours abounded in their back, but she didn¡¯t care. As they were discussing, Aran noticed something subtly¡­ off, with his demeanour. She couldn¡¯t quite place what it was, but it was there. She didn¡¯t believe it was an effect of nanites, but she decided against bringing it up. She was no expert; he was. She had met other victims of the incident too. Eety came by regularly, and she had made the tailed girl come to Glob¡¯s room for introductions; their quarantine had been lifted immediately on arrival. They mentioned two other men with them, but they had already left. The singer wasn¡¯t a patient anymore either, but her large friend was still bedridden and hadn¡¯t been relocated. The two of them were nice and awkwardly hiding their feelings for the other. It became even more annoying once they told her what the other had done for them, especially with how they said it, out of the other¡¯s earshot. You¡¯re both clearly in love, just say it already! Several days later, Zax was purging his last nanites and would soon be ready to leave. Aran had come for the occasion, but her heart almost stopped when she passed the threshold to his room, instantly regretting not paying attention before entering. In front of her stood a behemoth of a man, all in muscles wrapped in a threatening uniform. An Enforcer uniform. When he turned to look at her, the glint on his eye killed any hope of escaping she could¡¯ve had. It was not a low-ranked simpleton, no, it was a high-ranked, experienced leader, and he was staring straight at her. *** It had been a long and tedious week for Zax, but it was finally coming to an end. His last nanites had been evacuated and stored with the rest. He would examine them later; the centre and its staff didn¡¯t have the tools and knowhow to help with that. His last physical and psychological tests were quickly done after that. They should have been the only tests, but he had insisted in getting as much data as possible during his purge. If he had to redo everything, he¡¯ll make it worth as much as possible. It wasn¡¯t that often he had access to such accurate readings, so it was a good opportunity. His results came clean, with no medical or mental aftereffect from the nanites, not even from the long exposure. There had been no deviation during the week either, but he would match that to older tests later. On his own. He did feel strange without his HUD and background processing, it had been years since he last was without them. He would have to stay that way for a bit, if only to make sure he wasn¡¯t addicted. His pride wouldn¡¯t let that happen. I control my nanites, they don¡¯t control me. Incidentally, the doctor stated he was in great physical shape for a baseline human, but in a bad emotional state, which was not a surprise. They advised a therapy, but they couldn¡¯t force him. He would leave once he got his belongings back, but someone was waiting for him in his room. ¡°Oh, hello Aran, hello Officer Bor. Great news, I¡¯m clean and free to go! I already reviewed my analysis of the recordings and I didn¡¯t see anything amiss, so they can be used as they are. No tampering that I could detect. I didn¡¯t think you knew each other?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t. She just arrived.¡± The Enforcer clarified in his usual stoic manner. If mutations could do inorganics, he would definitely be stone. Aran stayed uncharacteristically silent, nodding her assent. Her tail was straight as an arrow. ¡°I am out of leads. I was ordered to stop my investigation.¡± Bor continued. ¡°Already? Isn¡¯t that a bit early?¡± Zax was surprised, but didn¡¯t slow down his gathering of his belongings. ¡°It is, but I can¡¯t justify asking for a delay. I really have nothing new to try, and I don¡¯t think more time would help.¡± ¡°Well, Ram woke up but he didn¡¯t remember anything, so that only leaves Dormouse. She¡¯s been confirmed hibernating and not comatose, but I don¡¯t know if they can wake her up safely. I don¡¯t think she¡¯d know something new though. I know you can¡¯t say too much, but did you discover anything at all?¡± ¡°That group relied on a deducer, probably close to leadership if not the leader themselves. They had skill and patience, but a change of head pushed them out and the replacement is not as good, or too hasty.¡± ¡°Nothing new then.¡± Zax sighed. They had established that long ago, that was low level profiling. ¡°Should you really talk about that?¡± Aran burst out. She recoiled when the two turned to her at once, but she had no other choice but to explain her thoughts. ¡°That sounded like¡­ very sensitive information. Not the type you say in front of others. Or discuss with a civilian. Wait, you are a civilian, right?¡± ¡°I am.¡± Zax¡¯s confirmation unstiffened her tail. A bit. ¡°I kept coming to him because he has a good head on his shoulders and was directly involved in the start of this investigation. He might notice something he first dismissed as irrelevant.¡± ¡°The records should circumvent that, but they weren¡¯t as trustworthy before my exams.¡± ¡°What I said can easily be inferred from the published public reports. The case is about to be closed; the rest should follow suit.¡± Officer Bor explained. ¡°Instead of guessing who is part of that group ¨C if they are still one ¨C it¡¯s more effective to make sure everybody knows about them. Since they have spies, that makes accounting for their future actions easier.¡± ¡°Transparency of information is a strong part of the dot¡¯s philosophy and culture.¡± Zax completed. ¡°Yeah, sounds familiar; but I didn¡¯t think it would apply to¡­ something that big.¡± Aran defended, still uncertain. She fiddled with her tail as she spoke. ¡°It¡¯s something huge involving the whole dot. The whole Shelter, maybe.¡± ¡°That¡¯s precisely why everybody should be aware of it. It will make people more alert and able to see something weird happening in front of them. There will be chaos at first, but with the Main Computer to parse and filter the pranks, the paranoiac accusations, and the petty revenges, it will make their task easier overall.¡± ¡°The Shelter will handle that information their own way. I don¡¯t know how.¡± The officer noted. ¡°They don¡¯t have big processing power. I heard they had different politics on information management. But leaders will know. Handling it will be their responsibility.¡± ¡°And since they lost two of their main strengths, their former leader and their secrecy, they will either make another mistake soon, or do nothing for a while.¡± Zax concluded. Done with his business, Bor left them to talk with someone else. Zax had gathered all he needed, although he had to go around the whole hospital wing to get everything. Partitioned isolation and all that, with a medical staff who didn¡¯t want to touch his nanite related belongings. Ludicrous, but at least I am sure they are as I left them. On the way out they saluted the last duo and promised to go karaoke together when Glob was fully healed. Zax departed, Aran was following but at the last moment she shouted to the pair ¡°You are both in love! Deal with it already!¡± and slammed their door shut. Zax didn¡¯t comment, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, a small smile adorned his lips. Aran was flustered, but she hid a smile of her own. Once home, looking around, a realisation finally dawned on Zax. He felt a weight he hadn¡¯t realised leave his shoulders. It¡¯s over. It¡¯s actually over. He had planned on parsing the benefits of this ordeal, but he elected to collapse in his own bed instead. Chapter 22 - Consequences At the sound of the bell, Harpy¡¯s chains fell off her metal collar and the match started. Her handler pulled chains outside the cage to make sure they wouldn¡¯t be used as a weapon. She made to lunge at her opponent, but when he raised his adult gorilla arms to protect his child human face, she used him as a springboard and leaped. Once up, she pushed down with her arms, catching the air and stalling her fall, while her legs shoot up and grabbed the ceiling bars. It would buy her time to hatch a plan, hanging upside down out of range and easily keeping her opponent in sight. The crowd cheered at her manoeuvre; her acrobatics were part of what made her a favourite. Her mutations had replaced her arms and feet and made it impossible to function in a normal daily life, but being owned by a member of the Black Market made that a moot point. The wings and talons that had replaced them were assets in here, making her exotic to watch and giving her unique options, both practical and for show. Her human head and trunk were shapely and eye-catching on their own, although she couldn¡¯t tell if it was a mutation too. Her appearance and her habit to jump around in the arenas had made her called ¡®Harpy¡¯. She had long forgotten her real name. Flying or even gliding was impossible with her wings, but she never had enough space to try that anyway. She didn¡¯t care about that. All that mattered was to give the audience a pleasant enough show to ensure her survival and her next meal. If her opponent was good enough, he might even survive too. Looking at him below, she didn¡¯t have much hope. What truly set her apart from the freaks of the Black Market was that she was a natural mutant. No surgery, 3G improved or otherwise, had been involved to make her into what she was. It meant her limbs matched, they fit her, and she hadn¡¯t needed as long to get used to her new state. The poor child she was pitted against was not; he had been awkwardly grafted with adult gorilla arms and cloven hoofs, both too large for him. Two matching pairs, he was luckier than most, even if the pairs didn¡¯t complement each other. He wouldn¡¯t climb more than stairs any time soon. He probably belonged to a newly rich member who took a gamble to rise their social standing further. From his awkward gait and overcompensating arm sweeps, he hadn¡¯t learnt how to use his new body yet. The thin lines she had spotted on his torso showed the human parts had also been operated on, but she couldn¡¯t tell if things had been replaced, added or removed. She couldn¡¯t see his neck through his shock collar, but the lack of cries and shouts let her figure at least his vocal cords had been removed. She could totally see someone give that order to make a crying child shup up. She felt a pang of sadness, but she quickly pushed it down. Pity wouldn¡¯t help anyone. She had to focus on giving a good show. She heard the mocking laughter of the audience. Only wardens were around, hidden in the shadows of the arena outside the cage, but invisible cameras were strewn everywhere to broadcast the degenerate display at any angle they wished. Hidden loudspeakers were used for ambience and to let the most affluent customers affect the mood. More now, they were amused by his antics. Wait, amused? She could work with that. Make him ridicule himself. Jump around him, make him fall by barely touching him. Show off his awkwardness and contrast it with her own agility and skill. If he cooperated and answered her cruel attitude with a contrast of his own, they might both pull it off. She might even not have to bloody her claws today. She had a plan. She took a deep breath, centred herself, and started. Showtime. She opened her talons and dived. One jump. One clumsy fall. A sadistic sneer. A nudge on his arm as he stood up. Second fall. A rib at his new posture. Laughter increasing. It worked. Another jump. Alarm blaring. Alarm? Harpy was pulled out of the mental state she was forcing herself in by the discordant noise and blinking lights filling the whole area even beyond the cage. It took her one second to notice that her collar had opened and fell off, down below on the ground. A glance downward showed the same for her opponent. All the doors were opened too, the cage¡¯s and the arena¡¯s. Confused noises and screams came from behind it. Some wardens reflexively pointed their weapons at them, others went to the door, others alternated between the two, unsure. Their calls for orders were unanswered, the landline unresponsive. Remote communication could be detected; the Black Market couldn¡¯t afford that. The gladiators didn¡¯t dare to make a move, the fight forgotten. The sounds from the door were louder and louder, until a small crowd burst through, pointing behind them with their mismatched weapons. They closed the door, but the lock refused to work. Harpy used the distraction to move and hide in a hollow obstacle on the ceiling, her talons proving their situational worth again. It was cramped, but safer. From there, she kept an eye on the newcomers, but the blaring siren covered their words. Two important looking people were in the centre of the formation, a young frazzled man and an old frustrated one. The others stayed around them for protection, most at least a bit hurt, several seriously so. Many were easy to identify as wardens thanks to their uniforms, albeit subtly different than the warden¡¯s, and the arena¡¯s joined them. The others didn¡¯t wear uniforms, so¡­ mercenaries? Undercover guards? Harpy couldn¡¯t tell. The leaders were arguing, the young one pointing to the door to the gladiator¡¯s cells, on the opposite side of the arena, while the older one pointed to a closer door on their own side. A warden motioned towards the cage, prompting the young one to shout an order and the guards to gun down the child who had already retreated as far as he could. Harpy leaned back and barely managed to cover her mouth, holding her shout in. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. What¡¯s going on here!? Who ARE those people!? She was shaking, more shocked than her collar had ever made her. Death and killing had become a normal part of her life, but both parties had always had a decent chance at survival. It made for a more gripping spectacle. This was nothing more than a callous execution! And despite his oversized limbs, he was clearly a child! She couldn¡¯t afford to be careless now, even less than before. She forced her breath back under control and cast an eye outside her hideout, the habit of not leaving her opponent out of sight giving her something to focus on. The leaders were shouting now, she could glean a bit more. The young one had brought calamity to all those who had tried to help him, the old one had still tried because of a debt to his relative, but the young one kept making things worse and... ¡°You deserve every bit of what¡¯s coming for you, you reckless ingrate fool! Was it not enough to tear down everything your father built!? You have to bring ruin to the whole Black Market too!?¡± That shout was so loud and angry it filled the arena. The young one didn¡¯t appreciate it one bit and the two groups quickly ended up pointing weapons towards each other. They had mingled, so everyone had several targets on front of them, but was also targeted by several. The wardens pointed against the young one and his men, revealing the old one as the fighting pits¡¯ ringleader. Only he could give orders to wardens of different sections at once. They had the number advantage, but the young one¡¯s were in a better position. Had it been staged? The young one¡¯s anger and his own men¡¯s nervosity made that doubtful. The old man and his men were tense and focused, not betraying any emotion. The tension was at its highest. Nobody dared to say a word, to twitch a muscle. All it would take was a single sneeze to make a carnage. They got more than a sneeze. The door they had come through burst open, an amplified voice easily making itself known: ¡°Enforcers! Nobody moves! Drop your weapons!¡± *** << It doesn¡¯t matter what Circle you come from and what your job is, everyone is taught from their youngest age that supporting the growth of the Shelter is the most important task. That should be everyone¡¯s priority, no matter how small or how far removed their role is. Every part of the Shelter is built around one purpose: to make it grow. It¡¯s why and how the Core, the dot and the Circles are what they are. It¡¯s why and how we support each other. It¡¯s why and how our species survived. It¡¯s why and how our culture exists. It¡¯s why and how people¡¯s worth is measured. It¡¯s why and how deep and useful mutations are a boon that will get you closer to the outside world. If you renege that goal, what¡¯s the point of improving yourself? What is the point of working at all? Why is the 3G precious? Why do mutations matter? Why is Explorer the dream job every child dreamed of at least once in their life? Why have I lost all my friends one after the other!? >> The recording was audio only, but it wasn¡¯t hard to perceive the emotions brimming in the long-winded speech. Whoever it was, it couldn¡¯t be denied they were speaking from the heart. ¡°Yes, yes, we¡¯ve all heard it already. Very moving.¡± A towering man with grey, leathery skin mocked. ¡°Nothing new so why are we all here, Horny?¡± The jab of the rhinoceros man went unnoticed by the mediator who had called for that gathering. Bathor had heard it all before, being part of the Arya Family. Their trait was their ability to reverse their mutations; but no matter what she became or how she did it, she was unable to remove the single perfect bovine horn on the side of her skull. She glanced at the rest of the audience to gauge their reactions. One hostile, two neutrals, one serious. Better than most starts. Next to the mocking of the spokesperson of the Brahn Family, the Libero Family¡¯s was yawning and idly scratching at his thick scales, while the Yokai Clan¡¯s was showing exactly enough interest for courtesy. Only the rainbow haired woman of the Kogito Family was serious; but that was to be expected; they had ordered that gathering. It did nothing to stop her sneers, however. ¡°As expected of the Meathead Family, you didn¡¯t see the obvious.¡± The only meetings requiring the presence of all the Main Families were about issues traversing the borders. All five of them only knew the general situation surrounding that recording; the details were closely kept by the higher ups. The attempted sabotage on the one 3G supplier of the Shelter couldn¡¯t be what those bitter rivals had been gathered for, those meetings were between important people. Despite the Kogito¡¯s mockery, the question had to be laid down. ¡°Unrest is brewing and something needs to be done before it gets out of hand.¡± The conciliator took up the reins of the conversation before it devolved in a squabbling again. Those were always a pain to handle. Nobody had noticed the power of the commentary at first, naturally focused on the surrounding situation, but all it had taken was a quality cut ¨C without editing ¨C and an effective clickbait title for it to go viral. Nobody knew who had launched it, but it didn¡¯t matter anymore. It was still running looping in all media and social platforms, absolutely everyone had heard of it, and most had heard it directly. ¡°We all noticed the recent social unrest.¡± The horned woman pursued. ¡°Some are positively roused by this speech, others negatively, and frictions are growing. At every level of the Circle.¡± ¡°Just petty fights between dumbasses. Not a problem. Not our problem.¡± The grey man dismissed. ¡°I hate to agree, but I don¡¯t see what it has to do with us either. Even if it goes too far, the Circle has people to handle that kind of unrest. Even if peaceful resolutions fail.¡± The Yokai representative concurred, nervously stroking his facial marks. They were a common feature of the Clan, but others could never tell which were makeup or not. ¡°Regardless, the heads want something to be done about it, and our superiors decided we be the ones who do it.¡± Bathor stated. The magical words ¡®our superiors¡¯ silenced any budding discontent. They didn¡¯t enjoy it any more or less, but none of them could afford to talk back to their respective bosses, they were already in hot water. Some among them thought further and realised it was probably why they had been chosen: their superiors needed to execute the task given to them by their own superiors, so they gave it to people they would happily use as scapegoats in case of failure. One less problem if they failed, brownie points for their own superiors if they succeeded. It also showed that their superiors didn¡¯t particularly care about the issue either. ¡°So what¡¯s the plan?¡± The gator mutant of the Libero sighed, wishing for a cosy heating lamp to sleep under. Everyone turned toward the Kogito representative. As annoying as she was, her mind was pretty sharp. It was a requirement to be part of that Family. ¡°First, we must find and take control of the little dotter who started it all¡­¡± Chapter 23 - Rewards < Command: Display/to do list > When Zax woke up, he sent the command without thinking. He frowned, staring where his clock overlay should be. It took him too many seconds to figure why nothing was reacting. Active nanites were forbidden in healing centres, so he put his to sleep at every visit, medical or not. They did use waves to communicate, even if the main worry that nanites might infect someone were ludicrous. In that environment, their absence for the last week hadn¡¯t felt abnormal, merely long. At home, it felt uncanny. Home. His place. He truly was back. The soft light from behind the window. The low hum of the street. The familiarity. He had never paid attention before, taking them for granted, but after a week in a windowless and soundproof room, it all brought untold relief. He felt¡­ serene. At ease, in a way he had never felt before. After enjoying the sensation, he forced himself to stand up. Aran was already at work, but she had left a breakfast pill on the table. When he had come back and his mental exhaustion had caught up, he had dropped everything where it was without bothering to empty his bags. He wasn¡¯t even sure he had wished good night to Aran. Now that he had released tension he hadn¡¯t been aware of, it was finally time for what he had anticipated all week: to peruse his benefits. He put his bracelet and three heaps of nanites containers in his personal workshop. Seeing his plants, he also checked on their state; the child lock prevented him from giving access to his unofficial roommate without being present. They would have to fix that. His plants had been left alone for a week now, but they were not high maintenance species ¨C Zax found gardening boring ¨C so they were still fine. A bit of water and cheap nutritive solution and he was done. Now back to the rewards. The first and most straightforward was also the one he knew the least about: his pay. Learning advanced first aid and helping authorities in times of need was nice and all, but not enough people would bother if the Main Computer didn¡¯t pay its civilian responders accordingly. He wasn¡¯t exactly hard pressed for units, but after the efficiency he had displayed and the initiative he had shown before going in, he was sure to have a serious bonus. The danger he had willingly subjected himself to should be sure to substantially add to it, but since the Core was outside the Main Computer¡¯s purview, he wasn¡¯t sure it would count. His bracelet told him he had slept more than half a day, and it had definitely counted. The amount was impressive, but he knew he would find a use for it. Especially with what he had brought back; it would be sure to give him a lot to do. He wouldn¡¯t have to work for a long while, but that never stopped him anyway. He was too used to simply doing something, even if he didn¡¯t believe it would help him mutate anymore. Physical or mental activity were the most common triggers in the dot, since the amount of 3G stored in the body was rarely enough for a natural activation. Too bad I couldn¡¯t test that. Zax chased the treacherous thought away. He didn¡¯t want to dwell on that part. He proceeded with his other gains, starting with the easiest. He did a run of his usual mental scan, mostly personality quizzes and intellectual games, and used it as a fulcrum to compare his archives with the more complete results from the centre. The medical scans were easier to match directly. For better or worse, he could only confirm the doctors¡¯ reluctant conclusions: even after years with a swarm of tiny machines residing in most parts of his own body, and his interactions with the Core, there was no medical side effect. Psychological effects were trickier to pin down, but the deviations were more compatible with a natural consequence of what he didn¡¯t want to think about. It was reassuring, his caution in making and programming his nanites had paid off. Maybe I can go further now. It was too early to jump to conclusions though, he still had to assess the nanites themselves. During the lengthy and gradual process of extraction, the Centre¡¯s personnel had stored them in specific conditions according to his instructions. He was the best choice to see what had changed after all, when his judgement was not compromised. He had to improvise an adaptor to connect the boxes to his own equipment without air contact or other pollution, but he had more than enough material for that. An in-depth examination of each batch and types showed no tampering, hardware or software-wise. Same with his B-Box. There were strange signs of lowered efficiency however, compatible with common wear. It was something Zax had never considered before. Devices of that scale didn¡¯t slowly deteriorate over time; each nanite was perfect until it broke, any slight mishap, distortion or flaw making the whole unfunctional. That was also why they were so sensitive to disruptive fields. At least he had been taught that way, but thinking back, who had ever used biocompatible nanites in their body for so long at once? Actually, his nanites lasting that long without issue was probably more a testament of his teacher¡¯s skill than his own care. He would have to visit her soon. The Core using barely compatible software to give him pareidolia on their first exchange had probably worsened the attrition, but Zax couldn¡¯t deny that it had not infected his nanites or himself in any way, not even as a dormant precaution. No mind virus, no hidden triggers for secret commands; everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. The expert had no doubt that it could have forced them to act in a myriad of ways, but after the first contact, it had restricted itself to those not involving his personal nanites. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Even if he had made any such tampering as difficult and useless as possible by warning the Enforcers, Zax didn¡¯t know what to make of it. None of their method were perfect, it would have been able to bypass them, but it hadn¡¯t. More importantly, it seemed like it hadn¡¯t tried. None of the hard-coded restrictions he had seen would explain such¡­ restraint. However, as curious as it was, it had nothing to do with him anymore. It wasn¡¯t like he would ever go back there; that kind of adventure didn¡¯t happen twice in a lifetime. Fortunately. Done with this part, Zax sent his report and moved on to the Residents¡¯ nanites. With neither he nor his B-Box around, their extraction hadn¡¯t been smooth. The nanites themselves were damaged, but he managed to recover most of the data. As a precaution against 3G activation, he always programmed them to keep a copy of their records in deactivated nanites whenever possible. It was not perfect, they needed to be activated for each update, but it helped. At first, he was surprised to see a full scan of the advanced mutants¡¯ bodies. It was what he had made the nanites for, but he hadn¡¯t told them to. The traces of a foreign command added to his normal ones shed light on this mystery: once the scan was done, the nanites were to use it to migrate in and around vital organs, mostly heart, brain and lungs, stay there, and upon not receiving a certain signal, they were to¡­ build something? Zax couldn¡¯t tell what simply by looking at the remnant of code, but a simulator helped to complete it and revealed¡­ a diamond? A long, flat, four-sided shape, not requiring many nanites, too small to do much, but of great structural stability. Perhaps the greatest Zax had ever seen on a construct that size. He was confused about its function, until he went back to the code and noticed the open end in the construction loop. The parameters were not fixed. The nanites would continue to make more diamonds and grow them as they met more of themselves, until none were left. A new batch would make it start anew. Then it dawned on him: those were blades. An activation would only help so much; the blades would stop growing, but the stability would make them keep their shape. Millions, billions of tiny blades, all over the body, surrounding the vitals, pushed by the bloodstream, ripping apart every cell and tissue they came across¡­ Only a strong activation of enough 3G to fix the tremendous damages and either expel the blades or reinforce the body at a cellular level would save them. Zax had no idea if it was even possible. Terrifying. Luckily the Residents hadn¡¯t tried anything. Massive internal bleeding, generalised organ failure, global paralysis, and who knew what else, the already traumatised programmer didn¡¯t want to picture the result. He shoved the file in a folder to never be seen again, and focused his attention on the body scans. He never had one of a Resident of the first Circle before, and now he had two! He was boiling with anticipation. He let himself go, brought back to this old flame that had attracted him to this hobby, even after it was clear it would never apply to him. He spent the rest of the day examining the structures and physiologies of the advanced mutants, the shapes and functions of their organs, comparing and matching them with each other and with dotter mutations. He wasn¡¯t sure how to classify Kad, but he included his too. He briefly pondered how he was; he hadn¡¯t received any news of his childhood friend since the party he had met Aran. He didn¡¯t let that bog him down, it was expected. Instead, he dove back in his theories, extrapolating scenarios, streamlining his results. His old habit of voicing his rapid-fire thoughts even resurfaced without him realising: ¡°Too bad the scans didn¡¯t examine at cell level.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s forget Kad¡¯s multi-arms for now. Too outlandish. His structural and metabolic enhancements are the same as usual. Pushed further. Not the same as advanced mutants, but there is some overlap.¡± ¡°Officer Bor should have the same as him but even further. He was larger, but not maybe not proportionately stronger. Two sports buffs, use strength in their daily jobs, Officer Bor¡¯s is possibly related to survival too. That would make sense. That¡¯ll be a ¡®to check¡¯ for now.¡± ¡°Are there are qualitative and quantitative enhancements? Several types of each? I didn¡¯t think there were both types for similar effects.¡± ¡°Are there both in the same person? That would explain the overlap.¡± ¡°Do they interact? Obviously, but how?¡± ¡°Do non-enhancing changes affect that choice? How? Why or why not?¡± ¡°Guess the qualitative ones took priority for Cat and Dog.¡± ¡°Maybe their higher amount of 3G oriented them toward qualitative changes first? Or is it how fast they got it?¡± ¡°We know- GYA!¡± ¡°Knock knock!¡± Aran chuckled at his shout. ¡°Glad to see you¡¯re doing fine; I was worried when I didn¡¯t see you this morning.¡± ¡°Aran! Yes, just peachy, I slept like a log. Back already?¡± The embarrassed handyman quickly changed the subject. ¡°What do you mean ¡®already¡¯? It¡¯s almost curfew, and I¡¯ve been here a while now. I didn¡¯t understand everything you said but that was¡­ interesting to see.¡± ¡°I do that sometimes.¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°Come in, I¡¯ll explain.¡± ¡°Pass. It¡¯s too late for one of your lectures.¡± ¡°Ah!¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°I was so caught up in the new templates, I forgot to examine the new nanites I brought from the Core.¡± Zax sheepishly laughed and scratched his hair, he could lose himself in his hobby at times. He was about to fix that oversight, but his friend pulled him away from his workshop. They had both missed each other and she didn¡¯t want him to isolate himself again. The irony wasn¡¯t lost on either of them. Aran had Zax test her on her new programming skills; she had kept training on her own. She had made some progress, but her idea of a WIL add-on for his RPG stater was still far away. She might be able to make a living of her technical skills sooner than expected, but he didn¡¯t bring it up. Too early, he would wait until she could make simple games on her own at least. Her RPG stater score had filled out some too, lots of points in many categories, but they still had no idea why her template couldn¡¯t be made the usual way. They also discussed their plans for the next day. Aran had new games to try, while Zax still had to examine the Core¡¯s nanites and the recordings he had brought. Before that though, he wanted to visit his teacher, to thank her for everything she had taught him. He had realised the value of the foundations he had been taught, and it definitely wasn¡¯t a way to stall the last task. He proposed Aran to come with him, she agreed out of curiosity for this teacher that had so much impact on his life. They spent the rest of the evening enjoying the peace and the simple comfort of being with a friend. Chapter 24 - Meeting Challenges ¡°They have at least the same characteristics as the standard kind, only better. Way better. Smaller.¡± Zax gesticulated as he explained what he had figured out about the Core¡¯s nanites. He had taken to call them ¡®C-nanites¡¯, and the batch as a whole was ¡®the swarm¡¯. ¡°That¡¯s good, right?¡± Aran queried, walking at his side. She didn¡¯t share his interest, but his excitement was contagious. They were on the way to visit Zax¡¯s former teacher of nanotechnological sciences. His friend hadn¡¯t asked anything about her, she wanted to learn more in person. She didn¡¯t have any idea of where she lived, or why they were walking there. The light road was next to them, separated from the sidewalk by a sparce row of trees. ¡°For my curiosity, very. In practice, I don¡¯t know. Probably pointless, to be honest.¡± ¡°How can better be pointless?¡± ¡°There is a reason nobody bothers making that quality of nanites. The standard quality is the most cost-effective regarding energy and resources per use and production. Higher quality costs too much for the scant improvement it provides, while lower quality breaks and has to be replaced too often to be worth what is saved.¡± Zax stopped and glanced sideways at her. She nodded her understanding. ¡°But that¡¯s only because of how we use nanotechnology nowadays. That is to say, mostly niche, little known applications and small-scale item production. Macrites are usually enough, and nanites are only used once we are skilled enough it makes a difference and does not waste any.¡± ¡°Macrites? No, wait, I remember, that¡¯s¡­ micron-sized nanites, right?¡± ¡°Correct. The machines can only be called nanites if the average size of the set falls below one micrometre. The actual threshold is not that precise, and laymen say ¡®nanites¡¯ for everything too small to be distinguished by the naked eye, but it is an important distinction to determine their properties and possible uses.¡± ¡°So in your job, you mostly use macrites to build or fix things, but the¡­ swarm¡¯s¡­ are too small to be used in the same way?¡± ¡°Correct again! See, you¡¯re not totally dumb.¡± Zax smirked. ¡°I never said I was!¡± Aran pouted, her tail bristling. ¡°A mix of macrites and big nanites, actually.¡± Zax casually ignored his own sidetrack. ¡°And I could learn how to use the swarm for the same result, find smaller structures with the same properties, but why bother? It would increase my invoice but not the quality of my work.¡± ¡°I get it. Only useful for your own personal scientific curiosity.¡± Aran let the bad joke pass without comment. She would have her revenge later. ¡°Not just mine, I hope. And to be fair, there are a lot of incredible applications. We just can¡¯t use them.¡± Zax nodded. ¡°Like what? And why not?¡± Aran had a hunch, but asked anyways. ¡°Small macrites and big nanites can get in a cell and out without damaging it, but nothing more, and not just any cells. Some are too brittle or sensitive. I think the C-nanites are small enough to have several per cell, maybe even per organelle.¡± ¡°Organelle?¡± ¡°The components of the cell. You know, nucleus, mitochondria¡­¡± ¡°Oh. That¡¯s¡­ a lot of machines per cell.¡± She winced, a shiver running down her spine and bristling her tail. ¡°Doesn¡¯t feel safe.¡± ¡°Neither are extreme sports, or letting magnets levitate and move your body at high speed. Doesn¡¯t stop people from doing it.¡± Zax countered, pointing at the light-road and its occasional traveller. ¡°Nanites small and numerous enough could be used to instantly fix blood vessels, selectively kill sick or unwanted cells, make quick and accurate diagnostics ¨C what I already do ¨C, replacing failing organs maybe? Supporting them at least. And that¡¯s just on top of my head. They would totally be worth the effort to make them and the special train without that stupid ignorant public stigma.¡± Aran¡¯s hunch was right. His frustration was palpable, so she quickly diverted the conversation towards a topic he would enjoy more: ¡°So, what are your plans for the swarm?¡± ¡°Well, the obvious first step is to determine their inherent properties. I just have the basics so far. I must confirm if they are as good as I think they are and how well my software can use them. A change of scale can mean a change in basic mechanics and interactions, so it might need to be reworked. If all is well, I don¡¯t know¡­ to create a living sculpture? It would be awesome, and it could help me study mutations with an actual model.¡± ¡°A living sculpture?¡± ¡°Like a stone sculpture, but with nanites. They can be programmed to make movements and reactions, but it takes a lot of patience and skill to make it realistic.¡± ¡°How realistic do you want it?¡± She was intrigued. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ able to be sick, have moods, feel and react to pain and so on? Well, imitate those behaviours at least. Ideally, feeding them with actual ores or metals and excreting treated materials. Maybe ordered bundles of nanites with similar qualities? I may include a reproductive system, if only for completion¡¯s sake.¡± ¡°¡­ a miniature smelter-production unit?¡± The tailed girl had a hard time wrapping her head around the idea. ¡°And even without that, that sounds¡­ ambitious.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what size, and yes it is!¡± Zax enthusiastically nodded. ¡°If they are good enough, a well-programmed cluster of C-nanites might be able to imitate different cells. The shape driving the function. Division and apoptosis. It would probably take years to get close to a viable organism from scratch, but that¡¯s where the fun is. And once I made a suitable basic model, I can try alterations to see how it will affect the whole. Test how mutations work, what can be done and how. Fun, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Crazy.¡± Was the matter-of-fact reply. ¡°Heh, yes, that too. Even without the complexity, I would need a special container to protect them from disruption fields.¡± He relented. ¡°But yes, it was just the first thing I thought about, nothing more than a pipe dream. I¡¯m not even sure of what those nanites can or can¡¯t do yet. On the other hand, what¡¯s the point of a dream you¡¯ll be done with tomorrow? The pursuit is most of the fun.¡± ¡°Alright, but why did you call that a sculpture? It sounds wrong, somehow¡­¡± Aran pondered. ¡°Ah, it¡¯s an old exercise. My teacher had those¡­ see-through boxes half filled with marbles that were actually giant nanites. Mocrites, she called them, but I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s an actual word.¡± ¡°Neat.¡± ¡°Really? I was disappointed and/or creeped out the first time. We trained by programming the contents to shape into different things. And I¡¯m sure you can imagine, anything make of glued marbles is ugly, unpracticable, uncomfortable¡­ you get the idea. The box wasn¡¯t that large either, so our options were limited. As we improved, there were more restrictions, and we were allowed to use smaller marbles. The boxes were always half full, but the marbles eventually became seeds, then sand, then powder... you get the idea. Still mocrites though, they could always be distinguished with the naked unmutated eye. Every time we passed a threshold, she did a demonstration of what that new scale meant. And those examples usually involved animated living sculptures. Once I understood how difficult what she was doing so casually was, I was in awe at that level of skill. I had no idea nanotechnology could be that awesome. Awesome at all, to be honest.¡± ¡°I thought you loved nanotechnology?¡± Aran leaned her head sideways. Cute. ¡°Eh, not at first glance.¡± Zax winced at the memory. ¡°Or even second glance. I only focused on that field because it was the only thing my lack of mutation was useful for, and I only started because the job paid better than most other low-grade low-risk jobs. Not that most agree it¡¯s low risk to work with nanotechnology in general.¡± ¡°Ah, right, you mentioned that before.¡± ¡°Well, now it¡¯s an essential part of my life and I feel weird only having the balls in my pockets. And since I have the opportunity to work with the smallest nanites I have ever seen, I¡¯d like to see if I can push the demonstration even further. I already went beyond what she did by refining the skeletal and muscle systems. Greatly raised the realism of the movements. The C-nanites could maybe make cells to imitate organs? Actually, maybe I can already do organs? I never tried¡­¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Oh? Why not?¡± ¡°It just¡­ never occurred to me I guess?¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°Ah, we missed a turn.¡± He turned back and they walked in the opposite direction in companionable silence. When they arrived, Zax stepped in the building without warning, Aran following before she could figure where they were. She found out as soon as she stepped inside, vowing to stay silent until they had left the building. A corridor, a staircase and two more corridors later, Zax was sitting in front of his teacher¡¯s plaque. Similar to all the memory plaques in the Remembrance, it was a metal rectangle among many others on the walls, displaying her name, function, date of birth and date of death. As was common, it had been personalised by visitors, hers with a low-relief portrait carved on the side, and a flower garland made of thin but sturdy metal framing the whole. Aran stayed a respectful distance behind, making as little noise as she could. Zax was softly talking about his life in general, his recent adventure and his plans for the future. He occasionally paused in his retelling, listening to an unheard answer or reaction. He closed with the most important, his gratitude for the mark she had left on his life. Before leaving, he put his bracelet against the bottom of the portrait. A wave went through the plaque, only visible through its effects, altering the decorations in subtle ways. It would be hard for a third party to say what it did, but the flowers were livelier, the stems and leaves more natural, the portrait¡¯s gaze sterner. All the decorations were actually a network of nanites, hidden in plain sight. When they had left the building Aran spoke her mind: ¡°I expected more nerding on nanites and quirky gadgets, but I¡¯m glad we have looked in on your teacher nonetheless.¡± Zax smiled a nod at her but didn¡¯t answer. They kept walking in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. However, the tailed girl didn¡¯t appreciate where they kept leading her, so she broke it with the first unrelated question coming to her. ¡°I can understand why we were walking before, but why are we still not taking the road?¡± ¡°Hm? Ah, right.¡± Zax shook his head, coming back to the present. ¡°Well, thinking about the mark we leave when we are gone made me think of something I saw in the Core.¡± ¡°Something top-secret no one should know about?¡± She cautiously glanced at him. ¡°... a game the Founders played for emotional support. Well, maybe not the Founders. More likely the following generations, those that built the Core and lived in it, before the dot was sealed and safe. They left that¡­ drawing in unexpected places. A memento that would stay a long time, that proved they had been there. I want to do something like that. I¡¯m trying to see if I can find a suitable place, I have a few ideas. We can go home if you want, I¡¯ll look later on my own.¡± ¡°That sounds interesting, but I thought you didn¡¯t like outdoors activities? The only times I saw you use your body for fun was in VR/AR games and your workout at the gym. And helping for my template.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t mind either way.¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°I understand why some prefer it that way. There is¡­ something that can¡¯t be reproduced, even with the best VR and the deepest simulators there are. I don¡¯t do it because it¡¯s boring when you¡¯re alone. Online, I can play with strangers, there is more variety, and it¡¯s generally more convenient.¡± ¡°I take it you used to play outside a lot before?¡± ¡°Sort of. One of my friends was a free running enthusiast, and he kept convincing us to go to his latest challenges. Somehow.¡± A smile flickered on his face. They had a lot of fun following Ops around. ¡°Free running? Wait, you know parkour!?¡± Aran¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You don¡¯t have to look that surprised.¡± Zax frowned at her excessive reaction. ¡°Sorry.¡± Aran looked down, her dropping tail radiating awkwardness. Zax kept staring at her with a frown, his steps not skipping a beat, until she confessed. ¡°It¡¯s just, when I was little, that¡¯s what I wanted to do when I grew up. I never got to try, but it was awesome when I watched the videos.¡± ¡°What stopped you?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°If you had access to demo videos, you had access to events schedule, including the child initiation or all age beginner lessons. They are always looking for new blood. So, why did you never got to try?¡± ¡°¡­ I was often sick. I didn¡¯t get out much.¡± Her answer was barely a whisper. Not only her tail, her whole body was slouching, radiating gloominess. ¡°Well, you¡¯re not sick anymore. Do you want to try?¡± Zax moved away from the touchy subject. He had purposefully never asked about her past. ¡°Look, we can try simple exercises here. Two birds in one stone.¡± Zax pointed to their destination, a park of the entertainment area. Space was the most limited resource of the dot. It was surrounded by the first Circle on the sides, environmental conditions made any vertical growth a tremendous investment, and ground stability made digging difficult. The most logical course of action was to be as compact as possible, but the constant narrowness would be a hazard for mental health and could make it difficult for promising dotters to adapt to life outside it. The same was true for the lack of natural environment. Hence, at the Main Computer¡¯s advice, it has been agreed to keep a few green and open places in the dot. It had resulted in the most frequented roads being kept open and bordered with artificial trees, hidden loudspeakers broadcasting bird songs, and parks like the one they were moving to; spacious, with actual dirt and trees, and even a small, controlled ecosystem. Open space being a rarity, they were also used in other ways, so long as the main functions were not impaired. Flower gardens, playpens and art exhibitions were a common sight depending on which area of the dot the park was in. Even small vegetable gardens were a possibility, although that had issues of its own. They were in the entertainment area, with more grassy hills and plains than forests, with art pieces dotted here and there. A pleasant place to relax with your girlfriend, play with your children or wander on your own. When they arrived in front of the main source of the stream, Zax explained his idea. The spring was high and slightly hidden to give the illusion of a waterfall, but with the trees around it wouldn¡¯t be that hard to reach. Zax wanted to climb and put his mark inside the opening, or next to it if he couldn¡¯t. Aran thought it was reckless but he had an answer for everything. ¡°Is that even parkour in a forest?¡± ¡°Sure, the same techniques would apply, but I am about to climb, not trace.¡± ¡°What if you fall?¡± ¡°One of the first things you learn in free running is how to fall safely. And if I do get hurt, my bracelet will call emergencies. And you are here. I won¡¯t ask you to parry me, but you¡¯re not going to just watch me bleed out, are you?¡± ¡°No, I mean, what if you get caught?¡± ¡°Then what? I¡¯m not doing anything illegal.¡± Zax found the question and her reaction confusing, but it was the last one, so up he went. The trees were well maintained, so climbing was the easy part. The difficulty was reaching the opening from there. He could see it, a man-sized semi-circular hole a bit lower than his branch, with a thick grate to avoid getting in or out. Probably for birds and bats from one side and careless workers from the other. A slow but steady trickle or water was flowing, feeding the stream coursing the park. The grate was a bit deeper inside, roughly one step in. He couldn¡¯t see much behind it, the light dimmed too fast, but he didn¡¯t need to. He had the room he needed to land. That was good. Now to reach it. It wasn¡¯t that far, but even ignoring the daunting height, his starting position wasn¡¯t that stable, and he couldn¡¯t exactly take a running start. Still, nothing he hadn¡¯t done before. When Ops the expert was around to give example, advice and reassurance. He would have to do that part himself. Deep breaths. Stay calm. Anticipate your actions. Visualise what you have to do... Now do it! Push against the trunk with both foot and both arms, not holding back ¨C better too much force than not enough ¨C throw right foot and right hand forward, brace for impact, touch ground, complete landing. Keep on breathing. Before Zax realised, he was on the other side. Both his feet were flat on the wet ground, but he had slightly overshot. He reflexively grabbed on the grate to stop his fall, but he didn¡¯t expect to push it open and ended up sprawling on the wet floor. He wanted to stay down and wallow in his embarrassment a moment, but as slow as the stream was, it was high enough to cover his face and drown him. ¡°Zax? You okay in there?¡± Aran¡¯s voice reached him from outside. The tracer amateur went to the edge of the opening to answer: ¡°I¡¯m fine, do you want to come? It shouldn¡¯t be hard, and I can catch you if you do it wrong.¡± ¡°Why are you all drenched?¡± ¡°It¡¯s nothing, just a surprise during landing.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not exactly filling me with confidence right now!¡± ¡°Haha don¡¯t worry.¡± Zax chuckled. ¡°There¡¯s a grate here and I didn¡¯t notice it could open. Anyways, you have until I am done here to decide, I shouldn¡¯t be long.¡± First things first, he tried to close the grate. Tried, because there was no lock in sight. Looking more attentively, there was no doorframe either, the moving bars of the gate simply touched the fixed ones on the wall. It was basically invisible when closed. That explained how he had missed it, but what was the point? On the other hand, the design was a crafty one; the edge of the bars was bevelled so the door could only open away from the opening. It wouldn¡¯t be pushed open by a strong water flow. The hinges were springs imbedded inside the bars to protect and hide them when the door was closed, and the slight resistance when he tried to push it back open revealed magnets at the junctions to prevent accidental openings. As long as no one jumped at it. Pushing the useless thoughts away, he came back to his task. A command from his bracelet changed his nanite balls into a rudimentary but sturdy stone knife. Not ideal without a hammer, but it would do. He opened the door as far as it would go, climbed it like a ladder and craved his five-line mark on the ceiling. It wouldn¡¯t be found before a while; this place was rarely visited, and people never looked up. Perfect. He hadn¡¯t pondered long over the design, opting for something simple, easy to make, identify when you knew and ignore when you didn¡¯t. It started with a ¡®Z¡¯, slightly lengthening the lower line, from there a vertical line until the middle, followed by a diagonal line down and left, parallel to the Z¡¯s own, until it was below the starting point. A ¡®Z¡¯ and an ¡®X¡¯ were easy to see. An ¡®A¡¯ was trickier, but unnecessary. He was pondering if he should add ¡°was here¡± when an unnatural loud splash echoed behind him, deeper in the tunnel. ¡°Someone here?¡± Zax shouted, climbing down the door without turning away from the darkness. Nothing answered but a slow, heavy breathing. Whatever it was sounded angry enough to lash out at the closest target, and large enough to fill the tunnel. Or maybe that was the echo. The human couldn¡¯t see anything, but a foul scent reached him despite the still air. It reeked of sweat, wet feathers, and puke. Was it even a person? In any case, it didn¡¯t feel particularly peaceful. Or civilised. Chapter 25 - Helping Strangers Zax wasn¡¯t sure waiting without moving was the best thing to do, but any action he could consider risked making the situation worse. He was as immobile as he could, even slowing his breath. Deep and steady. He tried peering into the tunnel, but in vain; the darkness was unyielding. The only sounds coming from the artificial waterfall behind him and the echoes around him. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the voice, vaguely feminine and deeply growling: ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be here.¡± A person. Speaking. I can work with that. He forced his body and voice to relax and take on a friendly neighbour¡¯s vibe. It was harder to be mad at someone who smiled at you. ¡°So you can talk! Wait, what? Is it a private property? Ah, did you rent it? Is there a special secret event?¡± First, diffuse the tension and show you¡¯re harmless. ¡°That would explain the awkward silence; you were thinking whether I was part of it or not. So~orry, I didn¡¯t check beforehand. I didn¡¯t even know water stations had things like that. Which is the point of secret events, I guess.¡± Second, answer any question you could have. Tie up loose ends so on your terms. He might be overplaying it, but he wouldn¡¯t notice; he wasn¡¯t an actor. ¡°I¡¯ll be going now. Sorry for the interruption, and good luck with your¡­ thing.¡± Third, use the confusion to casually walk away. He had barely turned around when the now openly female voice shouted: ¡°Wait!¡± Zax stopped, his foot splashing in the stream. He glanced back, ready to throw the stone knife still clenched in his hand as a distraction and jump forward. The landing would be painful, but the park¡¯s safety features were strongly dissuasive. However, something in the voice made him hesitate. Panic. Clear as day, unmistakable, panic. Something strange was going on, but it wasn¡¯t what he had assumed. ¡°Please. Help.¡± A subdued voice, without any pretence of intimidation or aggression. Without sudden moves, Zax turned around. When nothing happened, he slowly activated his bracelet¡¯s flashlight at low power and swept the tunnel. In his eyes was definitely not what he had expected. It was a young woman. He couldn¡¯t see much with the dark cloak draped over her shoulders and reaching her knees. The water hid her feet, but what he could see of her leg wasn¡¯t human even in shape. What he did see was how filthy she was, and the shivers she was hardly holding back, and how fixedly she was staring at him, and how drawn were her features, and the deep, dark circles around her eyes. There were so many red flags it wasn¡¯t even laughable. A Resident ¨C what he glanced of her leg hinted at a particularly deep mutation even if localised ¨C lost in the dot. Filthy despite the water around. Ready to bite at the first hasty move despite asking for help. Sleep deprived, scared and worried. Separated or together, none of those points make any sense. Zax knew getting involved was a poor idea. Common sense was screaming at him to run away even louder than before. He didn¡¯t. He couldn¡¯t. ¡°You look like you need a bath a bed. Bad.¡± He stated as factually as possible. A small, hesitant nod. ¡°Do you need something else?¡± No reaction. He waited, but as he was about to let it go: ¡°I can¡¯t go back there.¡± A whisper and briefly vacant eyes. ¡°Zax! You okay up there? It¡¯s getting long.¡± A shout behind him startled them both. The strange girl looked left and right, looking for threats that weren¡¯t there, slowly backing off. She reminded Zax of a frightened animal waiting for punishment; he had read about that reaction in a novel. He truly had overreacted before; that girl was definitely more dangerous than she looked, being an advanced mutant and all, but she needed help and support more than anything. What has she been through, exactly? ¡°Don¡¯t worry, she¡¯s a friend. She will not harm you. I am going to answer her now, alright?¡± He made sure to keep his voice and his eyes steady, to articulate every word, and to keep his palms visible. She didn¡¯t answer, but she stopped walking back and her wide eyes fixated on his, unmoving and unflinching. It would have been disturbing if he hadn¡¯t seen her shivers before. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Just found something unexpected.¡± He half-turned to answer. ¡°I may need your help, wait a bit longer please.¡± ¡°What? What could there possibly be up there?¡± Zax ignored her and focused his light back on the girl in front of him. ¡°I don¡¯t know where you come from, but I will help you. Please don¡¯t harm us.¡± The frail human put his hand forward and waited for her. Welcoming, but letting her choose. He tried to smile reassuringly, but even he could tell it was too forced, so he settled for neutrally worried. Who he appeared worried for was open to interpretation. She had accidentally shown her vulnerability, and while it could be a trap, showing his true feelings would help more than harm. Worse thing she could do, she could also do if he pretended to be relaxed and confident. It took an uncomfortably long time, but she eventually walked up to him, one step after another, cautious, watching for his every move, until finally, she reached for his hand with her arm, revealing she wasn¡¯t covered with a cloak, but her own wings. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Full wings without hands. Fascinated curiosity bloomed on his face when he realised. Actual, non-decorative wings were a rare mutation he had only ever read about, and even then, they had never removed the hands! It was supposed to be impossible, as the 3G would expunge something, instead of merely replacing it with something better, if and only if the limb or organ was actively detrimental, inefficient, or at least unused, and if all the priority mutations were already completed. Her being that rich didn¡¯t make sense and she still had too many normal human parts, so it couldn¡¯t be the latter option, but Zax couldn¡¯t imagine a life where hands of all things would be a hindrance over wings. The awkward way she was holding her briefcase against her chest with her free wing attested to it. Before he could lose himself further in his musings, her wing touched his hand and he was back to reality. ¡°Hello. My name is Zax. What¡¯s yours?¡± He approximated a handshake as best and softly he could. ¡°¡­ I dunno.¡± Her voice was distant, her eyes fixated on their handshake. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. This handshake meant more to her than Zax could fathom, but he didn¡¯t pry. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll call you Strange Girl.¡± He magnanimously smiled and nodded. ¡°Are you hurt somewhere?¡± ¡°No¡­ Strange girl?¡± She didn¡¯t know how to react, but it pulled her out of her reverie. She was still not sure he would actually help, and now he seemed to make fun of her. For better or worse, he didn¡¯t give her time to process her confusion. Which was the point. ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± As they were talking, he gently pulled her to the entrance of the tunnel. ¡°Let¡¯s get you to a warm bath and a cozy bed. How does that sound?¡± ¡°That sounds- wait, stop!¡± She tugged her wing back as it was about to reach the light beaming from the entrance. If Zax hadn¡¯t held her so softly, he would have been pulled too. ¡°What? what¡¯s wrong?¡± Zax worriedly asked. ¡°I can¡¯t get outside.¡± ¡°¡­ why?¡± ¡°They could see me.¡± ¡°Who?¡± Strange Girl lowered her eyes and pinched her lips; but she didn¡¯t answer. Seeing his effort to distract her from her unease cancelled in an instant, he held back a sigh and tried to convince her. She had resisted, but she had yet to attack: ¡°Are you on the run from the Enforcers?¡± She shook her head. ¡°No, but they have people everywhere.¡± ¡°What? Wait, do you know where you are?¡± Something dawned on him. ¡°A wet tunnel?¡± Was her worried reply. She didn¡¯t understand what he was getting at. ¡°We¡¯re in the dot. In a water source for a park in the entertainment area.¡± He stepped aside to let her see the aperture. A Resident should catch the difference between what was presently outside and whatever the Circles had even if he didn¡¯t. ¡°One of the few places you will ever find actual trees. There are more cameras than you can see, and you are more mutated than most locals. Whoever you are running from, they will be seen and stopped before they are a threat to you. Unless hindering them or letting you roam freely would put the Shelter itself in danger.¡± Her eyes widened at the revelation, but she didn¡¯t say anything. She glanced from him to the forest, back and forth. Zax could see her thoughts flying all over the place, but he couldn¡¯t guess where they were going. ¡°Can I¡­ stay hidden?¡± Her timid voice whispered. ¡°Not appear on¡­ public records¡­ just in case?¡± Zax¡¯s eyebrows rose, surprised at her knowledge of the dot¡¯s security and privacy rules. A bit worried too, if he was honest. The implications¡­ ¡°That can be arranged.¡± He nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s see, we¡¯ll need to cover you and bring you somewhere private. We can¡¯t hide that we are bringing something that big, but we can hide what it is. Preferably in a way that wouldn¡¯t arouse suspicions¡­ no, one step at a time.¡± He shook his head and rambled further. ¡°Where do we go? The only private places I have access to are my home and my workshop. My workshop doesn¡¯t have bed or shower, but there should be some food pills¡­. How long will you need- nevermind, we can¡¯t know yet. In any case, goodbye bath, those are only in public places. So yes, those are the options. What¡¯s best for you?¡± ¡°Er¡­¡± From her confused expression, he had lost her somewhere on the way. ¡°Where do you want to go? My home or my workshop? My workshop is bigger and closer, but it¡¯s in a public space and it¡¯s not equipped for housing. I can make a bed, and there are food pills, but only a hand sanitiser for hygiene. And I¡¯ll have to open the shop to avoid suspicions, which means traffic and more potential witnesses. My home is smaller and further away, but it¡¯s in the residential area. There are only families with children around, and no one will get in without authorisation. It¡¯ll be spacious enough with three people, there¡¯s everything a living space need, but we¡¯ll have to work out sleeping arrangements.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± A pensive expression followed a surprised one. ¡°Ah, or we go straight to the entrance.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°We could go to the dot¡¯s entrance, to get you to the First Circle. You would be a lot less conspicuous there, but I won¡¯t be able to help passed the-¡± ¡°No!¡± ¡°-border... okay, not an option. Which one then?¡± She opened and closed her mouth a few times, but no answer came out. Aran ended up proposing: ¡°Why not the Enforcers? The Main Computer is great at weeding out the sellouts, it should be safe.¡± ¡°That would work, but she¡¯s wait-¡± He belatedly frowned and turned around. The tailed girl was behind the tunnel entrance, tightly hugging the tree trunk. His eyebrows rose, then frowned again. ¡°How long have you been there? Are you okay? You look like a baby koala with social anxiety who left the pouch for the first time.¡± ¡°Since you gave her a name. Congratulation, it¡¯s a girl.¡± She chuckled at her own joke, but her tail was still all straight and puffed out. ¡°But don¡¯t change the subject, the Enforcers could help her better than we could.¡± Who is changing the subject here? ¡°I don¡¯t know how much you heard, but she said ¡®I can¡¯t go back¡¯ and ¡®They have people everywhere¡¯. I don¡¯t know the details, but she has paranoia issues and serious reasons for that. I thought it would be best to get her in a welcoming environment to wind down, and look for a less temporary help later.¡± ¡°That makes sense.¡± She nodded as much has her position let her, her cheek brushing the bark. Turning back to the winged girl, Zax kept the conversation going: ¡°Well, since the topic is on the table, what do you think of asking the Enforcers for help?¡± She tensed like a spring. ¡°Thought so. Anyways, this is Aran. Aran, Strange Girl. Hm, Strange Girl, do you mind if she comes in here, it¡¯s awkward speaking with her that far.¡± Seeing the tailed girl who was clumsily embracing a tree like she had no idea how she got there or how to get down, Strange Girl acquiesced. She felt bad for her and didn¡¯t want to keep her in that state. She had to step further in the tunnel, and Zax had to jump out to unclench his friend, guide her step by step in how to jump and land, reassure her about safety and her own abilities, but they eventually met on same side. Despite her inexperience, Aran wasn¡¯t afraid of heights. ¡°Not what I had in mind when I proposed to teach you parkour, but it worked. Better stay closer to the ground next time though.¡± Zax stated from his prone position on his back. He hadn¡¯t bothered getting back up after catching Aran, who wordlessly agreed as she rose from her living cushion. All along, Strange Girl hadn¡¯t made a sound. Maybe she had been worried they would just leave her? ¡°What now?¡± Aran asked as she caught her breath. ¡°Right. Did you decide, Strange Girl?¡± Zax sat and turned. They couldn¡¯t see her anymore, his bracelet arm previously busy, that was quickly solved. She was indeed still present, though further back than expected. ¡°Let¡¯s just bring her home, less long-term risk, more staying power, and her situation is clearly more complicated than we know.¡± Aran voiced her opinion. ¡°I agree, it should be the wisest option, but it has to be her choice. To get her agency back and take her fate in her own hands or something. The shop has its pros too: less short-term risk, traffic will not arouse suspicions and I can more easily build many things there.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a strange way of thinking, but it fits you somehow.¡± The tailed girl nodded, not seeing anything wrong with the reasoning. As one, they turned to the strange girl they had settled to help, waiting for her decision. Chapter 26 - Risk? Opportunity?... Friends? The whole situation felt unreal to the newly dubbed Strange Girl. She didn¡¯t fancy that designation, but anything was better than ¡®Harpy¡¯. She had never liked that role, but it had been a pivot to her survival for so long; it was her default state for any human interaction. She was still reeling at how fast and¡­ naturally that dotter had pulled her out of it. Why do my plans always fail before they can start? When the Enforcers had raided the arena, she had thought salvation had finally come. How na?ve of her. Their abrupt entrance had been the straw that broke the camel¡¯s back in the tense stalemate between the old and the young ringleaders. She had jumped back in her cache and covered her ears until the noises had calmed down, and when she had glanced at the results, she had been glad for it. Bodies everywhere, though notably few wore an Enforcer uniform. They had been spread in a hideous cone pointing to the opposite side of the arena, towards the gladiator¡¯s cells. She had thought she was familiar with the sight and scent of death and blood, but the sheer scale had made her nauseous. The sounds of fighting had continued from behind the door. It had struck her as strange, there shouldn¡¯t have been that many wardens and mercenaries left, and the ringleader¡¯s body was below her. Who was resisting the Enforcers? It had taken another broken delusion to understand; when Enforcers had followed two gladiators who had burst out of the barrack¡¯s door and shot them down. Rescue or even capture had definitely not been in their minds. Confused and terrified, Strange Girl had cowered back and elected to run away on her own. Once the executioners had left and the shootout had moved further, she had left her hideout and dropped to the ground, landing as softly as she could in a less bloody patch. It had happened to be close to the ringleader¡¯s body, and a metallic reflection had caught her eye. She hadn¡¯t noticed it from above, but there was a briefcase clutched in his hand. On instinct, she had taken it with her. She had no idea how the Black Market was outside of the fighting pits and a few ballrooms ¨C where she had been used as a trophy and bragging piece ¨C but she knew that everything could be bought, for the right price. This case belonged to a ringleader, it was bound to have something valuable; she could try and buy her freedom if someone got in her way. She¡¯d prefer to avoid confrontations if she could help it; it would waste time, and she wasn¡¯t confident in winning an actual fight outside the arena. As it had turned out, outside the pit was mostly rectangular corridors and staircases dug in stone with normally closed rooms, and the bribe hadn¡¯t been necessary. No one had been left to bar her way, the only people who could move had also been mid egress. There had been quite a few, even those without fighting or stealth improvements. She had fleetingly considered she could have been wrong about the Enforcers, but she hadn¡¯t dared to stop and verify, and neither had the others. They had all scampered in different directions, and she had not been an exception. In the Black Market, trust was luxury; they would be better off on their own. She had run until the outskirt of that section and beyond. The liminal area was a strange place; no rooms, the tunnels and staircases were tighter, rougher, less angular and more tilting until they nearly didn¡¯t seem man-made. It was a maze of hallways and twisting turns, dimly lit by luminescent minerals naturally present in the rock. The perfect place to lose and confuse pursuers. Despite her terror, some part of her had noticed it was probably on purpose, a defence against invaders. At first, she had rushed as far away as she could without thinking, until she couldn¡¯t catch any sound but the echo of her own panting and her steps. With no idea of where she was or where to go, she had set to simply make her path as hard to follow as she could, jogging randomly left and right, up and down. When she had been too tired to run, she had slowed to a pace, and even allowed herself small breaks to catch her breath. She wasn¡¯t a stranger to strenuous activities, but it had never been so extended. When her heart had stopped beating in her ears, she had heard the sound of running water. Too tired to care and without any better option, she had followed it until an underground canal. It hadn¡¯t been any more natural than the tunnels, an abandoned path between sections maybe? The girl didn¡¯t know or care. It had been a boon, in more ways than one, period. The water had smelled and tasted clean, so she had risked it, drinking her fill and washing as best she could to remove the caked blood and the sweat. She had also cleaned the case, the dried ichor on it was sure to leave a traceable whiff. Or worse, a recognisable one. She had considered it might be bugged, but she had dismissed the notion. Ringleaders were known for their paranoia, they had to be to stay ringleaders, and even if he had left a way to track himself or his property, his men would be too busy until he was replaced, which would take a while. Once refreshed and rested, she had dived the artificial river, grabbing the case handle in a talon and staying underwater as long and as often as she could. Her wings had been surprisingly effective at navigating the current, allowing her to easily reach the other side. After that, the first opening in the wall had led her to another artificial maze of weakly lit tunnels where she had lost herself again. No running this time, a brisk stroll would have to do; she shouldn¡¯t have been trackable anymore, but she hadn¡¯t known how long she would have to keep going. With the tension of possible pursuers gone and no obstacles besides her own body, her mind had drifted, and the cold her wet skin was finally registering wasn¡¯t helping. To avoid thinking back to the nightmare she had left, she had focused on what do next. She had no hint of where she was headed, and no connections anywhere. Not a good start. What did she have? Herself. Her body, her skills, and a briefcase with unknown but probably valuable content. The tunnels likely led to the First Circle, that was where she was taken. She didn¡¯t have much information about it, but that was something. What did she need? That question had briefly given her pause. What did she need? To stay away from the Black Market, that was obvious, but would that be enough? She had renewed her hike. Too tired to make an effort for discretion, she had let her talons echo in the tunnels, making it sound less empty than it actually was, but still uncannily so. How to avoid the Black Market? They had people everywhere. She had been captured because she had trusted the wrong people. She wouldn¡¯t do that mistake again. Even without collar, her neck itched at the thought. Centring herself, she had kept going. Leaving the Shelter wasn¡¯t an option, none of her mutations would help against such an environment. She wasn¡¯t even sure why she had bothered considering it. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. No, she would have to stay inside, find a safe place. An abandoned place without anyone around. How would she eat? Her skills. She was fast and had unusual movement options, maybe she could steal something. Perhaps even get away with it. It wouldn¡¯t be the worst thing she¡¯d done anymore. Maybe the briefcase would let her buy someone¡¯s loyalty, at least for a while? She would have to leave them before they could turn against her, but it could be an adequate stepping stone. So¡­ Find an abandoned place, find a way to get food, don¡¯t be seen by anyone. A bleak plan full of holes, but a plan nonetheless. Flexible enough to improvise, her specialty. She had kept walking, her mind drifting on and off again, but she had something better to go back to after that. She wasn¡¯t even sure she had gone far from the canal. The twisting tunnels could make her go in circle and she would never notice. The water had dried by then, but it had quickly been replaced by sweat. She was dirty and thirsty again, with a thick layer of hunger and exhaustion on top of it. Despite herself, she had been thinking about how far from her original plan life had turned out when she had found something new: a blinking red light at the end of a secondary corridor. It was lighting up a heavy airlock door with a large wheel in the middle. She wouldn¡¯t have noticed it without the LED, a flare in the near darkness she had traversed for so long. Hope had energised her anew, not only had it been a sign of civilisation, airlocks were something the Black Market didn¡¯t use. She had still been careful in her approach, making her steps and breath as slow and silent as she could. She had still flinched every time her claws had clacked against the ground; talons weren¡¯t made for stealth. She had kept an eye out for any suspicious movement or sound; with no idea of what to expect on either side of the door. No outside security had showed up, but no automatic lock either. The wheel was the only mechanism, and it hadn¡¯t been made for talons, but bracing herself against the narrow walls had let her use it. With a lot of effort, time and noise, she had eventually reached the other side. The door had been easier to close from there; the springs in the mechanism helping her this time. She had to do it all again for the other side of the airlock, but she had eventually been through. Out of breath, sweaty and more exhausted than ever, but there, at least. Strangely, there hadn¡¯t been anyone around to be alerted by the noise, but she hadn¡¯t been about to complain. She had left the platform she had found herself on, followed the catwalk along the humongous water cistern it was framing, and ignored how disturbing the new echoes and ambient sounds were after only hearing her own steps for so long, until she had reached a door to the water distribution hub. She hadn¡¯t been able to make head or tails of the maps on the walls, so she had settled on following the biggest pipe, then going for smaller and smaller ones, avoiding the most active areas, until she had found a small exit. She had thought it would lead her to an isolated but still functional place behind bustling areas. In hindsight, the lack of people and abundance of machines on the way should have told her she wasn¡¯t in the Circles. Not that she could blame herself, with her experiences. She hadn¡¯t kept track of time in the pipes either, but she had finally reached an opening, with an open grate to boot. Only one problem: someone on the way. She couldn¡¯t see much with the backlight from outside, but he hadn¡¯t seemed to be there for her, he was working something on the ceiling. She had been watching and waiting for his departure when exhaustion had made her slip and fall in the tickle of water at her feet, revealing her presence. She had reflexively fallen back on her Harpy character, using it to push intimidation and pretend she had been in control of the situation. It had worked great at first, the guy had been worried, afraid and he had hardly hidden it. Then everything had derailed. His reaction had thrown her off; there had been none of the normal posturing, cowering, threats or begging she usually encountered. She must have been even more on the brink than she thought, because it had been enough to pull her out of her role. She was confident she could run away in the pipe network in case of trouble, so against her own judgement and her promise to herself, she had risked asking for help. In hindsight, that option of running away was probably why he had had such an unusual reaction, she and those she used her character against rarely had such freedom. She hadn¡¯t been sure how to feel when his friend had revealed herself. She should have been worried, but seeing that girl hugging that trunk¡­ And then seeing them interact¡­ And who promises to help to then openly ask ¡°please don¡¯t hurt us?¡±?... and that handshake¡­ She didn¡¯t know what to think of that development or those people. She could have left right then and there, but she hadn¡¯t. They hadn¡¯t asked anything about where she came from either, or what had happened, or who she was besides her name. It wasn¡¯t fear, lack of curiosity or rejection, it was respect for her, her boundaries. In the Black Market, trust is luxury. That¡¯s when it truly dawned on her. Those two trusted each other, and her too to some extent. She wasn¡¯t in the Black Market anymore. She truly was in the dot. She was out. Only her long experience had let her rein in her sobs. Before she had realised it, she was asking Zax and Aran to go in their home. Their destination set, they found a way to hide her on the way, at her unreasonable request. It ended up being the easy part for them; Zax shaped the nano-technology he had on him in a thin but opaque sheet. Strange Girl didn¡¯t even know it was possible, but he proved himself an expert on the subject. The cover was more than large enough to wrap her up, but too flimsy, breaking at the slightest tug. A tirade from this expert told her it was only two nanites thick because he didn¡¯t have enough material on his person, and he usually caried a lot more in unusual ways. Is it that rare for them, to have clothes not made of nanites? Despite her bewilderment, she found herself amused at his antics; her thoughts echoed in Aran¡¯s smile. After some trial and error, Strange Girl ended up crouched and her arms warped around her body. The result of a fetal position with winged arms made her look like a messy heap of feathers with a head, and nubs for feet when her talons were folded. Now smaller, she could be wrapped in a thicker blanket, still thinner than most fabrics but sturdy enough for transport. She could easily tear it up, and as a bonus it freed enough nanites to disguise her briefcase separately. She had to let it go to be compact enough, but she didn¡¯t mind that much. Its content was still a mystery, she wouldn¡¯t miss it, but they hadn¡¯t asked. When they were done, she couldn¡¯t see a thing, but nothing of her was recognisable or visible and she could breathe without issue. The two friends had also taken many pictures set on private with their bracelets, so the Main Computer and only it would know there was nothing nefarious or illegal with this suspicious load. She had been nervous about it at first, but they had asked and explained. The familiarity was comforting, and they wouldn¡¯t be stopped and searched while Zax carried her home. He would take a direct route while Aran would take the briefcase on a detour. They somehow got her on ground level in the park, and they were on the way. The darkness and squeezing were not an issue for her, but not seeing where she was taken was wracking her nerves. Zax tried to be comfortable and reassuring, but her insecurities were haunting her back. It belatedly dawned on her that she was utterly at someone¡¯s mercy, and it was too late to do anything about it. She tried to force her panic down by focusing on what she had seen of them, how different they were from the evil she knew, how the dot didn¡¯t have abandoned places, and most of all, that it was a decision she had made in full knowledge, of her own free will. The distractions had helped, but only so much; her nerves were rising at every step, every second. Her breath was heavy and barely holding her shivers together when she felt something press against her back. It was too much and she snapped. She opened her wings and legs, tearing her warping and looking frantically around, memorising the layout, ready to pounce on the first opponent. She was in¡­ a spacious but ordinary living space. A cooking counter, three doors including an obvious exit. Well lit, no guard, no weapon. The only movement came from Zax, rising from where he sat on the ground. Her jump must¡¯ve made him fall. He removed imaginary dust from his clothes and stated with a smile: ¡°Welcome to my humble abode.¡± Chapter 27 - Past and Future After a short tour of his apartment to calm his guest¡¯s nerves, she was better but still too tense to sleep. Zax didn¡¯t want to make arrangements without Aran anyways, so he moved on to the second most urgent of her needs, a bath. The social and leisurely aspects of ablutions were kept in the entertainment areas, so even in familial apartments, a standard water unit was only large enough for an average adult human to stand up and spread their arms. Part of his custom orders was adjusting them for taller or wider mutants like Glob. It was made to get in, let the program aim and control the water jet¡¯s pressure, get out, with air-drying or not according to preferences. Strange Girl wasn¡¯t much taller than him, but her wingspan couldn¡¯t fit inside, and even if it did there weren¡¯t any programs adapted to actual wings. Dotters rarely had more than a coat of feather and slight deformations, and it was never much more. They were discussing possible solutions when Aran arrived with the briefcase and a few items he thought would help: a blank bracelet, standard clothes to alter, food pills and solutions, and special toiletries for feathers. He wasn¡¯t sure the last one would work either, but it was worth a try. Zax made a giant washbasin as a makeshift bathtub, surrounded it with curtains to give a modicum of protection to his living room, connected to the water unit¡¯s jets and evacuation. Whatever Strange Girl usually did to wash her body; he didn¡¯t have the equipment or the space required. She couldn¡¯t clean herself normally either, so they would have to do it themselves. However, while the first invlolved reluctantly agreed it was the most practical solution short of staying filthy all over, Aran was having none of it: ¡°She¡¯s the most advanced mutant I¡¯ve ever seen! You will not convince me you will be able to rein your curiosity in.¡± She exclaimed, starring unflinchingly at him. ¡°I¡¯m sure if we had walked normally, you¡¯d have already drowned her in inappropriate questions and I don¡¯t want to know what will happen if you can actually touch her body.¡± ¡°I met Residents not that long ago and I have yet to analyse their videos. Just that will keep me busy for a while, I don¡¯t need new data.¡± ¡°Are you saying you didn¡¯t record everything since you met?¡± Her tail swished menacingly as she crossed her arms, sceptical. ¡°Need I remind you I don¡¯t even have nanites in me right now?¡± Came the haughty answer. ¡°Oh, right. You didn¡¯t try then?¡± Silence. As she had for all the joust, their visitor kept moving her head left and right, following the exchanges with embarrassment and fascination. ¡°Zaaax?¡± ¡°Going now.¡± He knew when to cut his losses and fled the room immediately, leaving the girls alone for their business. He would deny any mention of blushing in the future. He passed time browsing the network to try and find out more about his feathery guest, but it was a faint hope. Dot news only talked about ongoing series of strikes following the powerplant sabotage, without going in details, of course. As for news from the First Circle, they always took a lot of time to pass the border. He had never looked into the reason. All his current search told him was that the Circle didn¡¯t appreciate admitting weakness, because they didn¡¯t report their missing people, although not denying they had some. I hope they are less tight-lipped between peers. Like the girls in the other room. He couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying through the door, but they talked a lot. Excellent, emotional support was what Strange Girl actually needed the most right now, although he wasn¡¯t sure bonding with a dotter would help in the long term. Aran truly was a natural at making friends, and she even seemed less hesitant to make lasting bonds. Her own progress was heartwarming. With no lead about his guest on the network and no way to leave the room, the programmer passed time by making more nanites. It was a complex and delicate process, but he was seasoned enough to do it without too much focus. He used the down times to do some more research about nanites one size below his. He had to be on point about the theory before trying his luck with the swarm he kept from the Core, or he couldn¡¯t ascertain what to pay attention to. There were more theoretical studies on the subject than he would have guessed, although the lack of practical examples was as expected. He had filled all his Zax-Boxes and was in the process of making a new one when he was called back in the main room. He couldn¡¯t help a chuckle at the heap of drenched feather that greeted him. Feathers were meant to keep water out, not to have a lot within; she looked ridiculous, and from her blush and fleeing eyes, she perfectly knew it. ¡°I know. How do we dry her?¡± Aran called again. ¡°Er¡­ ah.¡± He hadn¡¯t thought about that. He didn¡¯t have anything to dry hair. Both Aran and him used the air blower of the water unit. ¡°We didn¡¯t think that through. Wait a bit, I may have something to tinker.¡± His experience as a handyman came in handy, as he managed to open the water unit¡¯s panels and change his improvised water pipes into improvised air pipes connected to the air blower. He added fans inside to help push the air over the distance and connected the blower¡¯s controls to Aran¡¯s and his bracelet like the faucets earlier. It would consume more energy than he was comfortable with, but he could refill fresh nanites and recharge old ones easily in his own home. ¡°Not ideal, but better than waiting for you to dry off. We can use that on your wings and dry the rest with the normal dryer. Or your whole body right now, how you prefer.¡± ¡°That was¡­ impressive. How did you do that?¡± Strange girl let out. She had watched Zax working with fascination, but she had held back to not bother him. He answered as Aran grabbed a wing and started to finish the treatment. ¡°Most of the basic shapes are pre-programmed and could be added to each other. Pipes are basically cylinders with tweaked ends to connect them.¡± He demonstrated by grabbing a ball of nanites and giving it various shapes through his bracelet in public screen mode. After that, he enlarged the display: ¡°Here are basic shapes to start custom constructs. That tab here makes common objects, and you can see, the dimensions are adjustable.¡± He moved a slider and showed her the small wide pipe in his palm transition in a long thin straw. ¡°For that part, the hardest is to make sure the nanites groups are properly defined and separated. You do not want to program a change somewhere and have something else move. Especially if it is already installed.¡± ¡°That makes sense.¡± The winged girl nodded enthusiastically. ¡°So anyone can do it? I thought it would take years of training...¡± Definitely more open, Aran did a great job. I wonder what they talked about. ¡°Yes and no.¡± He shrugged. ¡°There are enough intuitive software tools to make basic construction accessible to anyone nowadays, so yes, you can do it too. But it does take years of training to learn how to make nanites and actually understand how to build something complex or consequent. For example, this bathtub could never be made with common tools, it has to handle its own weight, water movements, your movements, and stay watertight all along. I made it with the structure of skin and a ribcage. Without training, you will be limited to pre-programmed shapes and you¡¯d have to buy pre-made nanites.¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Is that a problem?¡± ¡°Depends on what you want to do.¡± He shrugged again. ¡°You won¡¯t make anything too complicated or outside the pre-set parameters, and you won¡¯t get far in any career that needs nanites, but you can still have a lot of fun with only pre-programmed shapes. Though at that point it¡¯s more using nanites as convenient storage for regular building blocks.¡± ¡°Seems fun.¡± She perked up as Aran made her switch wing. ¡°Can be. The real problem would be to buy nanites. There are no sellers, and even if you find a good quality but cheap supplier, the bill will still rank up fast even just from usage loss. Nanites are particularly sensitive to the 3G¡¯s disruptive field, even more so than most machines. Case in point.¡± The programmer held up the pipe he had use as example, crumbling apart in his hand. His winged guest poked it with a literal feather-light touch, and a less damaged piece collapsed like dry sand. ¡°What¡­¡± ¡°Someone must¡¯ve mutated not too far from here.¡± Zax ignored her flabbergasted expression. ¡°Probably in a neighbouring building. And that¡¯s all your nanites currently activated, spoiled, lost and wasted just like that, and you needing to recycle them and buy new ones.¡± ¡°I can see how that would build up¡­ Wait, how come the rest is still¡­¡± ¡°We adapted.¡± He shrugged, but pride still laced his voice. ¡°Every nanite made in the dot is built with specifications for this situation; once inert, they are inoffensive to living organisms, so no risk of poisoning if someone inhale flying dust or step on it. Not to be mixed with bio-compatible nanites, that are made to interact with living organisms even when active. Mine tend to be both. And everyone who dabbles in them knows to keep as little active at the same time as possible and to always have backups.¡± ¡°Yeah, that surprised me too.¡± Aran casually barged in, done with her task and turning the air blower off. ¡°Only active nanites are destroyed, so they are made and arranged in a way that keep them together even when deactivated. Mister expert here can even minimise losses even more by deactivating the ready parts before the construction is done. Which greatly adds to the difficulty. Or so I heard. From him. But if I got that well, it shouldn¡¯t work that way for the more active parts. How come the air blower still works? And your fans?¡± She demonstrated with a few bursts of hot air in their faces. ¡°Like your bracelet, the air blower still works because it is part of the dot network. When a disruptive field is detected ¨C hard not to, with all devices at the same place failing at once ¨C all the machines around are forcefully deactivated until the mutation is done, then reactivated. Mutations in the dot are small and don¡¯t last long, so if it¡¯s far enough it¡¯s so fast we barely notice. And the fans have backups too. Auxiliary motors to pick up the slack if needed.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a lot of work for a tinkered air blower.¡± Strange Girl was impressed. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s awesome¡­ but I shouldn¡¯t be surprised by now.¡± Aran concurred in her own way. ¡°I¡¯m done with your wings; do you want me to dry the rest or do you want to try the normal blower? It should be fine if you keep your wings outside.¡± A few minutes later, Strange Girl stepped out of the water unit, feeling surprisingly refreshed. She didn¡¯t even feel the subtle smile adorning her face. They sat her on a stool, Aran brushing and ordering her hair and feathers with brushes she had brought. The hair was quickly done, but the wings would take longer; Aran wasn¡¯t familiar with their care, and neither was their guest, somehow. Luckily, information was always a query away. Zax mopped the floor in front of the back-to-normal water unit, and it was time to use the rest of what Aran had brought. Or so he tried at least. Aran¡¯s prediction proved true: he couldn¡¯t help glancing back at the winged girl and visualise the changes in bones and muscle structure. He was surprised she hadn¡¯t thrown him out again, actually. He went back in his workshop on his own, ignoring the foxy girl¡¯s smirk. He wanted to prepare the rest in front of Strange Girl to assuage her paranoia, so he let everything on the kitchen counter, within her line of sight. To pass time and scratch the itch that had made him leave, he pulled the last of the rewards from his adventure in the Core, the recordings of forced mutations. It didn¡¯t take long to be reminded why he had stalled what should have been the most interesting part. No. I can¡¯t bury my head in the sand again. Face the facts. Ignoring the sourness on his tongue, Zax opened his files, cut them and sorted the smaller sections for easier analysis. There was a lot to unpack, even without the numerous breaks to balance himself, he wouldn¡¯t be done in one day. Still, it was nothing time, grit and perseverance couldn¡¯t handle. His old guardian¡¯s words came back to him. Even a single drop per day and the deepest bucket will eventually overflow. He went on until Aran called him, they were done. Strange Girl was admiring herself, and with excellent cause. Clean and more relaxed than they had ever seen her, she was unrecognizable. She also seemed older than he had first guessed; at around a few years older than him. Amused, Zax took a picture and displayed a side-by-side with those from the tunnel. Even she was in disbelief, asking if they were really-truly-actually her. When the storm of emotions had passed, it was time for the bracelet. She was hesitant at having a piece of traceable technology on her, but its utility was undeniable. It was an actual requirement in the dot, especially if she wanted to get out of this room someday. Zax explained its basic use, it was fairly intuitive, and only put the bare minimum information to make her account functional: a name, his address in case it was found and his information for emergency contact. ¡°There. Its functionalities will be limited, but it should do for a while. It¡¯s just like a child¡¯s account, actually. Except with everything private.¡± He threw her new bracelet to their guest, who clumsily caught it between two wings, where the wrist would be. Strange Girl stared at her wings with a strangely forlorn expression, and it was not pondering how to wear it like Aran was doing. ¡°Ah. I thought something was weird, and your reaction when I explained the bracelet gave me an impossible thought, but now I¡¯m not that sure.¡± Zax knew it was a poor idea, it was too early, but he still felt compelled to voice his thoughts. Both girls turned to him, his downcast expression more than minimally concerning. They had never seen him in such a state. ¡°Mutations are unpredictable, but theories and studies have revealed trends over time. The Main Families definitely know a lot more, but the most basic parts are well known. Like, mutations help people to be better at what they do.¡± ¡°That¡¯s common knowledge.¡± Aran interjected at the pause, not understanding where he was going with this. ¡°It is.¡± He nodded. ¡°And when several options help the same, the 3G will make the one the mutant is the most comfortable with, but survival and convenience take priority. As a result, the only way to have a mutation you don¡¯t like is if your life depends on it, and even then, it is not an inconvenient one.¡± ¡°That makes sense¡­¡± The tailed girl had an inkling of where it was leading, but it didn¡¯t explain his grave voice. ¡°Strange Girl, you hate your mutations and your body, don¡¯t you?¡± His voice was soft, but their target recoiled as if she had been slapped. That was all the confirmation he needed to continue. ¡°That¡¯s why your feathers stop so brutally even if your mutations are that deep; you rejected it as hard as you could. Even if you didn¡¯t realise it. Not only that, but you are surprisingly dextrous with your unusual limbs, even the parts that should be clumsy. That shows you had them for a long time. And it is a very deep mutation. It can¡¯t have happened at once.¡± ¡°What¡­ what are you getting at?¡± Aran voiced both of their thoughts; Strange Girl was shivering too much to talk. ¡°For a long time, weeks, months, perhaps even years¡­ you were trapped in a dangerous situation, and you had to do something you hate to survive. Over and over. Perhaps 3G was used as a reward, feeding that loop of self-hatred. I have no idea of what it could be for such a result. You somehow escaped and ended up in the water distribution network.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ going very far from just looking at her mutation.¡± Aran stated, hugging the shivering girl and patting her back. For some reason and despite her words, she didn¡¯t doubt him. ¡°Canary didn¡¯t tell you?¡± ¡°Eety? That¡¯s what she meant? That creepy dive in her past you did so casually?¡± ¡°That¡¯s how she called it?¡± ¡°Nevermind that, what does that have to do with her bracelet?¡± ¡°From how deep her mutations are I thought she was a Resident at first, but she didn¡¯t have anything against bracelets, only reluctance at having a traceable device on her. And thinking back, she had no issue with the Main Computer knowing where she is either. Cat and Dog totally did; Residents don¡¯t trust machines. Which makes sense, theirs must break all the time, with all the strong activations in the Circles. If she didn¡¯t activate in normal circumstances, and getting lost landed her in the dot, I thought maybe she wasn¡¯t from that far. And her face when I gave her the bracelet, not reluctant or disgusted or thinking how to wear it¡­ You¡¯re not a Resident at all, are you?¡± The last part wasn¡¯t stated as a question. She wasn¡¯t shaking anymore, her head low and her eyes clenched. ¡°Sorry.¡± Zax bowed at the waist even if she wouldn¡¯t see it. ¡°I wanted to wait until you felt open enough to talk about your past on your own before bringing it up, but the next step of settling you in made that an unwise decision.¡± Silence. The survivor didn¡¯t dare to say a word, holding back her sobs, but Aran couldn¡¯t hold her tongue for long: ¡°The next step?¡± ¡°The answer will change the way you should wear your bracelet, so take your time before answering. It doesn¡¯t even have to be today. Where do you want your mutations to go next? In other words¡­¡± He took a deep breath and without raising his back, he lifted his head and looked at the winged girl square in the eyes: ¡°Now that you¡¯re out, what do you want to do with your life?¡± Chapter 28 - Panic Attack ¡°See why I didn¡¯t want to let him help with your bath? Just looking told him all that, imagine what it could have been.¡± Aran had tried to exercise patience, she truly had, but she couldn¡¯t take the heavy silence and haunting stare of her new friend any longer. The tension wasn¡¯t so easily lifted however; the gloom persisted, but so did she: ¡°We¡¯ll settle that later. We don¡¯t ask about each other¡¯s past in this house. It¡¯s kinda our thing here.¡± ¡°It is?¡± Zax was befuddled. ¡°It¡¯s not?¡± Aran reciprocated his confusion. ¡°But you never asked about my past?¡± ¡°I wanted to finish with your template before telling you about what your mutation tells me. I didn¡¯t want my conclusions to be biased. Live reaction is an important element too.¡± ¡°Uh. I¡¯m almost afraid to ask now. Nevermind, let¡¯s move on.¡± The foxy girl forcefully put the thought aside. ¡°What¡¯s next?¡± ¡°Er, clothes?¡± He pointed to the still wrapped outfit. Three pairs of eyes stared at it, then the winged naked body. Her birdy parts stopped in straight lines at the joints between her thighs and trunk, and halfway through her shoulders. All the rest was exposed human skin. It was more than should be comfortable, but her resting position had her wings act as a cloak. She hadn¡¯t mentioned it so Aran hadn¡¯t considered it could be cold or uncomfortable for her. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure you¡¯d want or need it, but I wanted to mention the option. I can adjust them for you, if you¡¯re uncomfortable or if you want to look more local. You can pass for a recent activation or something. No rush though, we can move to the sleeping arrangements.¡± She hadn¡¯t considered that either, so the sleeping arrangements it was. Zax thought it would be better for their winged guest to have some time alone, to help her process and relax, and probably be agitated by her nightmares without hurting someone. He didn¡¯t mention the last aloud, but Aran could tell. He himself refused to sleep in the same bed as someone he was not intimate with, a lesson drilled from his childhood¡¯s dorm manager. Aran refused to let him sleep on the floor, as it was still his apartment, and she had to leave in the morning for work. Strange Girl would sooner stay close to the entrance, without obstacle if she had to run away, but that would also place her closer to potential threats. She was upsettingly surprised her helpers weren¡¯t sleeping in the same room, but Aran quickly and firmly set her straight about their relationship. It took some back and forth, but eventually Strange Girl would sleep in Zax¡¯s bedroom, Zax would make a futon for Aran to sleep on the living room floor, while he would sleep on the couch. He didn¡¯t have enough nanites to make a fully functioning bed; thick but soft materials were more gluttonous especially if they had to handle ongoing but variable stress, even a simple futon was pushing his resources. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but it was the best compromise for everyone. The next day, he would change his workshop back to the bedroom it was before he moved in; he just had to find what to do with his equipment. It was too late to do it immediately, it would make a lot of noise and wake the neighbours. The three discussed irrelevant thoughts for a time, but the events of the day caught up with them. They cut their conversation short, but not before officially exchanging all their contact information. Strange Girl would keep her bracelet close, just not on her person. The futon was surprisingly comfortable, so the foxy girl didn¡¯t have trouble falling asleep. She only woke up once, and it wasn¡¯t from her bedding. Coming from the bedroom, wordless sobs filled the apartment. Aran sat, a glance confirming Zax was awake too. A shared glance showed similar thoughts. Too early. She needs time. They laid back and stayed there, silently listening. The traumatised girl eventually cried herself to sleep. They followed soon after. *** When Zax woke up the next day, Aran was already gone, and a quick peek in his bedroom showed their guest was still asleep. He smiled at the nest she had made with his bedsheets, and frowned when he noticed it was on the ground. He closed the door and turned the lights on. The slight mess on the kitchen counter told him that while Aran¡¯s departure hadn¡¯t woken him up, it hadn¡¯t been as silent as she had tried. It made him chuckle and a shake of his head. He ordered the place, put Strange Girl¡¯s bracelet, clothes and briefcase on the side and unmade put the futon back in its boxes. He pondered taking his nanites back in his body, but he elected to delay. It hadn¡¯t been long enough to determine an addiction. Instead, he went back to his recordings. He blocked the door open for when his guest would wake up and set to work. The split in smaller sections was quickly done, and he associated each of them to an explanation of what he had done, the parameters for each assay and what he remembered of his reasoning at the time. He would fill the details later, when he focused on each section. Doing so was¡­ easier than he felt it should have been. That was when he finally noticed something that should have been obvious from the beginning: he could see the Glowing Green Goo in the recordings! It was supposed to be impossible! It was even why he had to be the one who carried the sentence. There was no denying it, the glow it owed its name to and even the lines through the subject¡¯s body were clear as day on his display. How did I miss that?! Confirming it was the case everywhere, he also noted how familiar they felt, as if he had seen it before but only remembered now. It didn¡¯t take him long to figure out where, as it was a more recent memory. It had been displayed in several rooms of the healing centre he had been trapped in for a week, as a map of acupoints. It wasn¡¯t exact, but close enough, and a quick search confirmed it. He didn¡¯t have much information on the subject, but he made a note to examine the topic later. He never had recordings of activations before, so he started with what he was more familiar with, analysing the result. It proved more challenging than usual, but that was exactly what he needed to distract himself from the less pleasant parts. He had lost track of time when his winged guest woke up. Keeping his door open to prevent surprises ended up moot when he heard a shout and a fall. A rush to his bedroom revealed a wiggling heap of bedsheet and feather producing muffled sounds. He had used all his nanites for the previous night¡¯s futon, so the girls had been left with ordinary cloth bedsheets. He chuckled and was about to help untwist her, but a talon tore the fabric near his hand. He reflexively pulled back, but not fast enough and he ended up with a scratch. Those claws were definitely not for show. They also seemed larger than the previous night, but that might be emotions and perspective affecting his judgement. A glance revealed a long gash across his hand. Luckily there were already torn bedsheet pieces around; he took one of appropriate size and shape, folded it and pressed it against his wound. When he looked back up, the winged heap of cloth had stood and taken a mostly human shape, her back turned. *** It was the first time since forever that Strange Girl could sleep at leisure, not woken up by a blaring siren in her ears. It had been a disorienting experience. When she got her bearing back and remembered where she was, the boy who had helped her was behind her, pressing his hands together. His focused expression quickly changed to a snide smile. He had definitely seen her shameful display, but he greeted her without commenting on it: ¡°Welcome back to the land of the living. How was your night?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ but I needed it. Thank you.¡± This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. She answered in a small, hesitant voice, still unused to expressing her actual thoughts. Her embarrassment didn¡¯t help either. She nodded her thanks and lowered her eyes, spotting the torn pieces of fabric on the ground and around her body, and she finally realised what the chokehold she had dreamed of and torn through had been. ¡°Ah, sorry.¡± She apologised as he was turning back to the living room. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I didn¡¯t mean to.¡± She didn¡¯t explain, she didn¡¯t want to burden him with her nightmares. ¡°No problem, I¡¯ve had worse and all my vaccines are up to date. My guardians made sure I grew up with all the right habits. Good thing the 3G don¡¯t naturally mutate micro-organisms; right?¡± ¡°What? What do you mean?¡± The winged girl followed him out, still awkward. ¡°They are too small and too simple, the 3G prefer to activate more complex organisms, so vaccines still work.¡± ¡°I mean, about having worse?¡± ¡°It looks impressive but it¡¯s swallow. No need for sutures, I¡¯ll be fine with disinfection and liquid band-aid. It¡¯ll just sting for a while.¡± He winced at the last past. Strange Girl was even more confused, until he slightly lifted his makeshift bandage. She had missed it earlier. She stared, horrified, as he treated the harm she had caused with an emergency kit from under the kitchen counter. She hadn¡¯t meant to. Truly. She hadn¡¯t. She didn¡¯t. It wasn¡¯t her. It was simply a role. It wasn¡¯t her. She wasn¡¯t like that. She wasn¡¯t that. It wasn¡¯t her. It wasn¡¯t her. It wasn¡¯t- Black dots were covering her vision. She didn¡¯t realise she was hyperventilating until cold water jets assailed her from all sides. Reflexes set off, she raised her wings for protection and kicked in the direction the attack came from, claws first. Her wings blocked most of the offending fluid, but it had done what it had to. ¡°Strange Girl? Are you okay? Sorry about that. You had a panic attack and I don¡¯t know how else to pull someone out of it.¡± She hadn¡¯t seen him finish with his hand, nor felt him move her around. ¡°A panic attack?¡± ¡°Or a flashback. I¡¯m not an expert, but you were unresponsive. You should know better than me. You must¡¯ve seen something that triggered it. I don¡¯t know if telling me would do it again.¡± She didn¡¯t answer, but Zax didn¡¯t let the silence linger. He softly pulled her back to the living room, ignoring the water dripping on the floor and the damage to his water unit¡¯s wall, and made them move on: ¡°In any case, you have deep wounds where no band-aid can reach, and avoiding them will not help. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve been through, but I¡¯m not surprised. I won¡¯t ask for details, you¡¯re clearly not ready, but I hope you can talk about it someday. Sooner than later. Even if it¡¯s not with us. A professional would leave smaller scars. Now, what do you want for breakfast? I have different flavours.¡± Strange Girl took her pills in silence, dwelling on his words and her reaction. She thought she had emotional damage dealt with already. Was she a danger to others? She didn¡¯t want to be a danger to others. She wanted to argue that time healed any wounds, but she had witnessed what it could do if left untreated. She didn¡¯t want that, especially on her own mind. Despite the new development, it was still probably her most intact part. ¡°What can I do?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± The question had escaped her before she realised. Explaining what she meant would lead to mentioning her past. As much as they had figured on their own and even with how open they were, she didn¡¯t want to. It was stupid, but she didn¡¯t. Luckily, she had other questions to ask: ¡°You said my future would change how I wear my bracelet. What did you mean? What should I do? I always thought mutations were random¡­¡± She didn¡¯t appreciate how weak her voice sounded, but at least it was better than the night before. ¡°The 3G¡¯s mutations are called random, but it¡¯s a misnomer. How do you think the Main Families exist, where everyone has similar but non-hereditary mutations? There are known tendencies.¡± ¡°I¡­ never thought about that.¡± Zax nodded. The 3G was such a basic part of life, most people didn¡¯t. It would be like asking why one needs eyes to see. ¡°The problem is, even those tendencies are hazy. ¡®Better at staying alive, then at your specialty.¡¯ It¡¯s the best description we have right now, and we¡¯ve had it since the founding of the Shelter. That sounds nice and all, but what count as specialties? How does it know? How will it improve on that?¡± ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know? Everything? Randomly?¡± ¡°Nobody knows.¡± Zax shook his head. ¡°Heavy labourers can develop great strength, or great stamina, or both, or just longer limbs. Worker A can get a more effective but still human metabolism while their colleagues B and C are mixed with other organisms. B might become part horse while C gets an ape. Even if all three have the same job, the same shifts, at the same place. But they will all have something that makes them better at heavy labour.¡± ¡°So, what does that mean?¡± She found herself strangely interested. ¡°Again, we don¡¯t know. Machines can¡¯t help with the measures, and there are too many variables to survey.¡± He shook his head, then shrugged. ¡°We don¡¯t even know what variables to keep an eye on. Amount of 3G, how often it is taken, there are elements that suggest even personal feelings and familial fulfilment are important. How do you measure that?¡± ¡°You mean, it¡¯s a dead-end? We can¡¯t control the mutations?¡± She felt disappointed, but Zax denied it. ¡°There are no definite answers, and everyone has their own stories and theories, but there are still points we all agree on. We can ensure function over shape. Sort of. More or less.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good!¡± Strange Girl clapped with her folded wings. ¡°So, what does that mean for me?¡± ¡°Hmm? Ah, right, the bracelet. First, let me be clear: what I am about to tell you is based on a theory I believe in ¨C not mine ¨C but like everything around the 3G, it¡¯s just a theory. I make no promises.¡± He waited for a nod to continue. ¡°Back to tendencies, it¡¯s just like the workers: if you want to get hands; you must live like you need them. At least, like having hands would make your life easier. Like you already have hands, when you can. Pointing with your wing instead of your head, for example. Or wearing your bracelet at a wing, and use them to manipulate it. On the other side, if you want to keep your wings, you can wear your bracelet elsewhere. As a pendent, using voice commands. At your talons, using them as hands. That one would definitely increase them without affecting your wings much. Wing, talons or else, no matter what you choose, if you use it to manipulate everything in your daily life even beyond the bracelet, your next activation will focus on making it more efficient, meaning less awkward and more natural. At least some, it depends on other factors, but it will make sure it doesn¡¯t keep going in the direction you don¡¯t want to.¡± Zax let his declaration sink in some before tempering it: ¡°Using your wings would make it more annoying to use the bracelet at first, but it would also be faster and more likely to get hands, since you are born that way. Reversions tend to be easier, especially if you don¡¯t like your current state. Never seen it at that scale tho. Of course, the bracelet can help, but it won¡¯t be enough. Your mutations reflect the sum of your whole life; you can¡¯t just do a few exercises per day and do opposite the rest of the time.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a commitment.¡± The winged girl concluded, staring at her bracelet on the counter. She wanted nothing more than to come back to how life was before. It seemed like a no brainer, so why was she hesitating? ¡°Why would anyone want¡­ that?¡± she spitefully spread her wings, but her host knew she meant more than that. Zax wasn¡¯t supposed to answer, but he did anyway, his soft voice echoing like thunder in the silence of the room: ¡°For a mutation to be that large and that deep even with your rejection¡­ they must have been an essential part of your life, for a long time. Something you constantly relied on without thinking, that helped you against everything life threw at you. They became a true part of you. Now, you are grateful for their help despite how you got them. Like¡­ like that great friend you met at a funeral and that helped you overcome your grief.¡± His eyes grew distant as he dived in his own past. ¡°You are grateful they became a part of your life, but you regret meeting them that way, and you don¡¯t know how to feel about something good happening at what should have been the worst time ever. Then, when it¡¯s time to move on, they still remind you how you met, that not-quite-worst time, and you have to choose how you keep moving forward, whether you keep them in your life or leave everything behind and start fresh.¡± Strange Girl was in disarray during the following silence. It was an odd comparison, but uncannily fitting. It somehow resonated with her confused hesitation. Starting fresh was exactly what she wanted, but his eyes¡­ ¡°What¡­ what did you choose?¡± she muttered as her eyes fled his. ¡°The same thing I¡¯m doing now.¡± Zax chuckled without mirth. ¡°I put them face with their own feelings, put the obvious options in front of them, and respected her choice to let me out of their life. They left the dot, so that part was a given anyways.¡± It took a moment for her brain to catch on. He wasn¡¯t the grieving one in the example; he was the support they met. Who was ¡°her¡±? No, nevermind. She didn¡¯t expect an answer like that, but she wasn¡¯t really surprised. He liked to help people, and she wasn¡¯t his first. But his expression¡­ He had accepted and respected the choice, but it still hurt him. She didn¡¯t want to hurt him. Should she try to keep her wings? But- ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt anyone. But it¡¯s all I can do with those.¡± She admitted, downcast. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Zax¡¯s melancholy evaporated in an instant. ¡°Using your own body is a skill like any other; it can be taught and improved. You can do what you want with it. Like, what do you think of clothes?¡± The non-sequitur made her answer without thinking: ¡°I¡¯d like to try.¡± Chapter 29 - Decision When Aran arrived home after work, the room she had grown so familiar with had become uncannily unrecognisable. Clothes lined every surface of the walls. Zax was lying on the floor, contemplating his life choices, while Strange Girl did the same on the unfolded bed-couch. None reacted to her arrival. The tailed girl silently passed the threshold, not wanting to upset whatever was going on and trigger an explosion. She was pondering what she should do when Zax broke the silence in the most forlorn voice she had ever heard: ¡°Why must we suffer so?¡± No answer came, but noise and words didn¡¯t appear that volatile, so Aran felt safe enough to ask her own questions, until something about the walls caught her attention. A closer examination explained part of the creepiness she felt: they were no outfits, merely life-sized pictures of outfits, realistic enough to pass for optical illusions, but too still to be perceived as natural. A few questions later, the tailed girl was clear about the situation and she felt silly for being so worried. Long ago, Zax had coated all the walls of the flat with some kind of pixel-nanites, and was using them as wall-screens. She had wondered how the emergency alarm had coloured the room when Zax had bolted, but she hadn¡¯t been fully awake and it had been gone so fast, so she hadn¡¯t been sure it actually happened. She had totally forgotten about it. As to the prone pair, they merely felt down after thoroughly confirming their lack of fashion sense. Strange Girl was wearing an altered version of the standard dotter outfit, only covering her skin parts; shirt, pants ¨C barely shorts ¨C and underwear. It gave her a ¡®kind girl next door¡¯ vibe somehow, which fit her surprisingly well. The wall proposed many variations of that outfit, but they were all astonishingly bland. For all the options available, from embroidery to artistic tears and patches, to buttons and zippers, none felt like a different regalia. Some had somehow less personality than basic customisation from accessories. It¡¯s almost a talent on its own. Aran wouldn¡¯t say those words aloud, of course, nor would she propose outfits with more character. ¡°Well, you¡¯ve been busy today.¡± The foxy girl clapped her hands and tried to blow some life back in the party. ¡°Let¡¯s do something fun to unwind!¡± The pair wasn¡¯t revigorated, but they stood up regardless. ¡°I¡¯d like that. I prepared the second bedroom too, we just rearranged things. No need to sleep on the floor anymore.¡± ¡°It was impressive, the bed is folded in the wall and the equipment can rise to the ceiling!¡± Strange Girl exclaimed. ¡°What do you have in mind?¡± Zax sighed, slapping his cheeks to get his blood flowing again. Aran hadn¡¯t thought that far ahead. Looking around for ideas, her eyes stopped on something she was still curious about: ¡°What¡¯s in the case?¡± She pointed at the briefcase she had carried the day before, forgotten in a corner. Strange Girl didn¡¯t know either, she had taken it in the chaos of her escape on a hunch, hoping it would have something valuable. Zax¡¯s eerily accurate speculations truly made communication easier, Aran wondered what she would have spun if they hadn¡¯t figured she had fled and was hiding from a bad place. ¡°Well then, let¡¯s check!¡± Zax was fully awake. ¡°If you already have a starting pouch, it¡¯ll make things easier in your new life.¡± Aran didn¡¯t miss the confused face his casual declaration elected, but a more pressing concern gabbed her attention. As he reached for the mystery luggage, Aran rushed to stop his hand. ¡°Wait! It could be dangerous. What if there¡¯s a bomb or something?¡± ¡°I know, I wasn¡¯t going to open it here, we don¡¯t know what flavour of bad guy had it before. I have a glove box, that should take care of most issues.¡± ¡°A what?¡± Strange Girl had slipped behind them. From the unease in her eyes, she hadn¡¯t considered the possible danger. ¡°A hermetic see-through box with controllable atmospheric conditions and gloves to manipulate what¡¯s inside. I use it to make nanites, they need as much void or as few impurities as I can manage. The walls should be strong enough to take care of explosives, the pump and filters should take care of any nefarious gas.¡± The winged girl paled at the explanation. ¡°I didn¡¯t think about that.¡± ¡°Well, maybe we¡¯re just excessively paranoid because we don¡¯t know the detail of where or how you took it, but don¡¯t worry, we won¡¯t rush you into explaining. Plus, it doesn¡¯t hurt to be careful, right?¡± After Aran had him give the room its normal walls back, they went to his workshop. It was awkward, but they could see the box above his shoulder. His glove-box wasn¡¯t made for something the size of a briefcase, so Zax straight-up removed a side. It was longer and more boring than expected to watch him reseal and re-purify the inside, and he even reinforced the sides with nanite bands ¡°just in case¡±, but he was eventually done. A mechanical lock kept it closed, but a trick with nanites told him when to stop turning the dials. Zax pushed the clips open, and a blue cloud burst from all sides and filled the tank. In seconds, the thick blue fog was all they could see. A few seconds later, it was gone. They didn¡¯t identify what it was, but the air filters had no issue cleaning it up. ¡°One point for paranoia.¡± Zax stated, matter-of fact. He slowly opened the case, but there were no more surprises besides the content itself. Bouncy balls, wood tokens, bundles of random feather, plastic pebbles, stone shards, compact tufts of something that could be hair or fur or both. Simply put, it was a random assortment of useless and some gross junk. Zax emptied it one item after the other, and even checked for a false bottom, but all he found was an empty gas canister, probably where the blue gas was stored. Of course, Zax being Zax, he noted the name on the canister to look it up later. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± Strange Girl mumbled. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s pretty wild. SO useless, some of those I only saw in movies.¡± Aran concurred. ¡°Maybe there¡¯s something special about them?¡± Zax speculated. ¡°They belonged to someone who cared a lot about them?¡± ¡°No one would care about five bouncy balls and random wood tokens. There are several models but each with several copies. They are not uniform enough to mean something together and not unique enough to be worth something on their own.¡± Aran observed. It forced a surprised glance from Zax and Strange Girl, but they took it in stride. Zax took a few of his measuring instruments to see it they could detect something. They all had mostly expected results, except for the stone shards that revealed themselves to actually be bones shards. An honest mistake, the shards were tiny enough to barely be considered a powder. ¡°The only strange point I see is a slight deviation of colorimetry, and it is only strange because I expected other values from the naked eye. The measures are all within normal values for those materials, so that¡¯s on me.¡± He added the last part with a dry smirk. ¡°What does that mean?¡± ¡°My colour ranking was slightly off. More likely a me thing than a hint about why that stuff was so protected.¡± ¡°I¡­ see something off with their colours too, but I can¡¯t place it.¡± Strange Girl claimed as she squinted through the box. Zax blinked. He wordlessly increased the box¡¯s ambient light and stepped back. Each piece didn¡¯t look special individually, but seeing them all together from further away did feel strange. Aran took the opportunity to put her hands in the now empty gloves. ¡°I have never touched most of those materials. It¡¯s funny. Do all bouncy balls fell that way?¡± ¡°I guess?¡± Zax shrugged. He didn¡¯t know any more than her. ¡°It feels exactly like the simulations anyway.¡± ¡°Do you think there could be something inside?¡± Aran lifted a rubber ball in front of a light source, trying to peer inside.¡± ¡°The scanner didn¡¯t detect anything.¡± ¡°Maybe hidden 3G? They wouldn¡¯t detect it, right?¡± ¡°No, but they would detect the case it¡¯s contained in. There would have to be one, or the rubber would absorb it. Even if it¡¯s synthetic, it¡¯s organic matter. Wait.¡± His eyes widened in realisation. He pulled the colour measurements and had his bracelet¡¯s holographic screen display the measured colours next to the matching items. With the lights upped, there was no denying it; they were indeed slightly off. ¡°Stars covered.¡± Zax was floored. ¡°What?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°The measures don¡¯t match reality. And they all work perfectly fine. That means the devices don¡¯t see what we see with our eyes. And there is only one thing that can do that.¡± ¡°The 3G.¡± Aran stated. ¡°Hair, bones, wood, rubber, plastic. Everything in that case is organic.¡± Zax kept going. ¡°You mean¡­¡± The winged girl didn¡¯t dare to conclude aloud. ¡°And they are all filled with 3G. Enough 3G we can see it, and our brains interpret that as a change of colour. That¡¯s what felt off, they all have the same ¡®slightly more greenish than they should¡¯ tint.¡± Zax had seen the effect of diluting 3G first hand, but even dotters knew it took a lot of 3G to change an object¡¯s colour. They all looked at the heap of upscale trash in the box. Calling it a fortune would be an understatement. They were sure that even in the Circle, it would be a huge amount, stored in compact and practical bits. When it had sunk in, Zax turned towards their guest: ¡°Your hunch was awesome, but it could attract dangerous greed. I¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t think we can keep ignoring your origins any longer¡­ Do you want to talk about it?¡± Strange Girl paled, but shook her head. ¡°Do you want to talk with Enforcers? I personally know a trustworthy one.¡± Same answer. ¡°Do you mind if we or Enforcers know, if it is not from you telling us?¡± No reaction, unsure. ¡°I have an alternative, but you may like it even less.¡± Zax explained he could set nanites in her brain and have them record her memories, although reconstructing events from before they were set would take time. To assuage her concerns, he explained the process and demonstrated with his own recordings, and mentioned how they had already been used as a testimony. Of course, he also mentioned body scans and templates. Aran had already told her about hers, and was surprised he waited so long before trying to get a deep, winged one. The conversation deviated to templates in general, the RPG stat game, Aran and Zax¡¯s meeting and their relationship. By the time they went to sleep, each in their own rooms, the tension and initial question were forgotten. It didn¡¯t last long though. After an¡­ agitated night, Strange Girl had something to ask as soon as they woke up: ¡°Please record my brain and give my testimony to that Enforcer you trust.¡± Her determined eyes, looking straight in his, complemented by her firm voice, it would be easy to mistake her for a different person. ¡°Just¡­ don¡¯t tell them who or where I am. Please.¡± She quickly reverted back to her unsure self, lowering her eyes and slouching her shoulders, but the effect had been seeded. ¡°Using me as a buffer between the Enforcers. That works.¡± The human nodded in approval. ¡°I would¡¯ve never thought about that application.¡± ¡°That still takes guts.¡± Aran put a comforting hand on her friend¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Congrats.¡± They were simple words and a brief contact, but they had a lot more impact than either girl realised. ¡°It does, but it won¡¯t be quick.¡± Zax reminded them. ¡°I know. At least three days to map my brain patterns, then however long it takes to translate my brain activity into something a computer can display, right?¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± He proudly smiled. ¡°Glad to see my explanation didn¡¯t fall in deaf ears.¡± ¡°And we can do my full body scan at the same time.¡± ¡°We can!?¡± the hobbyist accidentally let his excitement show. ¡°Hrm. Sorry. Yes, we can. It takes a different type of nanites, so they won¡¯t interfere with each other. I¡¯d love to.¡± The other two exchanged a knowing grin, but didn¡¯t comment. The brain being such a sensitive and essential organ, it had the most serious natural protections of the body. Going through those without triggering a nefarious reaction took time, and specialised tools Zax didn¡¯t have. He went around the problem with a slower but safer assimilation method and several instalments, but since his subject had to stay close and didn¡¯t have anything better to do, the weeks he had anticipated were condensed to less than two days. Once the nanites safely set in and between her neurons, she only had to live normally, with the occasional exercise to serve as calibration reference. Nothing complicated or demanding, things like reciting multiplication tables, read a specific text aloud, doing a series of simple movements, playing nine differences¡­ Besides the exercises, she passed time learning about the world at large, reading stories of any media, watching movies, playing games. Zax and Aran made sure she was never alone, although it meant they couldn¡¯t both leave the apartment at the same time. She had to admit, she was having fun. Even her nightmares seemed to lessen a bit. Her brain scan was progressing smoothly, but the same couldn¡¯t be said for her body scan. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± Zax was frustrated. ¡°The measurements are all coherent, but the calculations don¡¯t compute right. It¡¯s the same as Aran¡¯s. Do you two have something overly rare in common? You¡¯re not as high energy as she is, so that can¡¯t be it and I was probably wrong about hers.¡± None of them knew, and both were reluctant to talk about their past, so this mystery wouldn¡¯t be solved anytime soon. The method of reaching her limits to measure them like Aran wouldn¡¯t work either; she would need space and she couldn¡¯t use normal machines to push her body. In the other hand, she could still push her mind, and as a bonus it would even help with her brain scan. At least, that part worked as it was supposed to. Which made the riddle all the more confusing. Chapter 30 - Surgery ¡°That time of the year already?¡± The question escaped Zax¡¯s mouth without his input. ¡°Pff. Hm? Pff. You said, pff, something? Pff.¡± Strange Girl queried without interrupting her series of sit-ups. ¡°I just got an invitation from the education centre.¡± Even as he replied, he couldn¡¯t help but stare at her casual display of fitness. During a conversation about different ways to influence mutations, the impact of physical training had come up. Consequently, she did daily physical exercises of her human parts. She still wasn¡¯t sure how she wanted her bird parts to progress, but she definitely didn¡¯t want her human ones to worsen. Therefore, Zax had learnt that no matter where she came from, she was intimately familiar with her own limits. She presented Zax with a workout schedule he found nothing to comment on; he only pointed some exercises that would also work her less desired parts and the generally high numbers. She dismissed the later as ¡°no big deal¡± and she quickly fixed the former. He had been speechless when the ¡®sit-ups¡¯ required her hanging from the ceiling by her talons, and fully folding her body in two, upside down. Making a handle for her to grab hasn¡¯t been difficult, but all her exercises were the same type of shocking; soliciting the same muscle groups as the normal version, but with the difficulty ramped up to eleven. If that wasn¡¯t enough, and while he couldn¡¯t be sure because her body scan¡¯s continued failures, he was certain this aptitude wasn¡¯t supported by her mutations; her human parts were fully human. The light shine of normal, natural sweat also attested to it. What he was seeing was the result of pure hard work on a normal human body. He had been satisfied of his above average purestrain attributes before. Now he had an example of what such a body could do, and while it still paled compared to normal mutants, he felt like a slouch. Fortunately, he wasn¡¯t the jealous type. After a few days, he was more used to it, but it wasn¡¯t any less impressive. He also had a nagging feeling the exertion helped her keep stay sane in her self-imposed confinement in his apartment. ¡°They send one every year for ¡®present your work¡¯ day. I didn¡¯t notice it was that time already.¡± ¡°Neat. Pff. Are you going? Pff.¡± In another casual display of agility and coordination, she let go of the handle, twisted her body and lightly landed in a standing position. Over time, Zax had acquired the certitude that with more space, she would be flying. And that she would never truly renounce her wings. They are perfect for her. Which had its own implications about her and her past, but that was not here nor there. ¡°Not sure. I haven¡¯t seen the guardians in a while, but I don¡¯t want to leave you alone. Guess that¡¯ll depend on Aran¡¯s free day. She can keep you company.¡± A few day ago, she would have seen that as a jailor¡¯s threat, but now she could recognise his concern for what it was. ¡°You don¡¯t have to babysit me; I can handle myself.¡± She huffed and crossed her wings in a way that was all but natural. She had already caught her breath. A blank face answered her. ¡°It¡¯s true!¡± Her offended tone would be a lot more impactful without her doubtful expression. ¡°I¡¯m not a child anymore! I¡¯ve been here for almost a week already, I learnt enough to handle myself for a day.¡± ¡°Glad you specified ¡®for a day¡¯, but I mean in case you have an attack.¡± ¡°¡­ I only had the one tho?¡± The tone tried to be casual, but she couldn¡¯t hide her awkwardness at the mention. ¡°True, you hadn¡¯t had another panic attack or even a flashback since your first morning here.¡± Zax nodded, ¡°but you still haven¡¯t solved what caused it in the first place. We don¡¯t know what it was, so we can¡¯t make sure it won¡¯t happen. We will not rush you or press you; it would be counterproductive.¡± He hurried to appease her. ¡°But we won¡¯t leave you alone either. Not until you¡¯ve talked to at least one of us and we can all be sure you¡¯ll be fine. I would still advise to consult a professional tho. You don¡¯t even have to give details; they have ways to let you just express what you feel. Even if they can¡¯t heal your deeper scars, they could at least point you in the right direction.¡± He had let subtle hints about therapy throughout the week, but now was the time for straightforwardness. Seeing her not immediately rejecting the idea or closing in on herself, he felt encouraged and gave a final push: ¡°Imagine, there might even be nights you won¡¯t cry yourself to sleep. Although I admit, those improved too.¡± ¡°You¡­ you heard that?¡± The surprised recoil was expected. The embarrassed blush less so, but the boy took it in stride. He hoped it was embarrassment, anyways. ¡°Well, yes. The noise isolation is only good between units, not inside. I never had a reason to pay for that upgrade.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Anyway, I think it¡¯s too early to leave you alone for so long. We¡¯ll see if she¡¯s free.¡± Strange Girl didn¡¯t find anything to add. She wordlessly went back to working her sweat up. It turned out, Aran had one and a half free day she didn¡¯t know what to do with. She didn¡¯t mind using it to spend time with her winged friend while her unwinged friend was away, but another point of the conversation she was retold attracted her attention: ¡°A professional? You want her to see a shrink? That pretty random, no?¡± ¡°Not really.¡± Zax offhandedly defended. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about it for a while. They helped me a lot when I needed it.¡± ¡°Wait, you? You already followed a therapy?¡± Strange Girl energetically nodded her agreement to Aran¡¯s comment. ¡°Of course, I didn¡¯t grow into who I am now on my own. Like everyone, I was influenced by my environment. Therapy was a key part of my development, and it took a lot of work on myself to become someone I could live with.¡± He wasn¡¯t that sure about the last part since the Core, but he had more pressing concerns to deal with. ¡°What could you possibly have needed a therapist for?¡± ¡°What do you think? All my friends and even younger children mutated before me. I felt inadequate. And when puberty hit and I still didn¡¯t, I felt worse. Therapy helped me overcome my crippling inferiority complex and see my own worth. It set me in the direction I still follow to this day.¡± The two girls exchanged a glance full of meanings Zax failed to parse. For some reason, he wasn¡¯t sure nanites would help with that specific analysis. ¡°That¡¯s why I think it would help you a lot.¡± He concluded. ¡°Both of you, actually, but your issues are not as destructive as hers, so it¡¯s not as urgent.¡± He added to Aran. ¡°You¡¯re actually getting better on your own already, so it might not even be necessary.¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Strange Girl curiously looked at Aran, who was struggling in her own mind about how to feel or react. She quickly gave up and settled for a sigh: ¡°And here I thought I was used to your directness.¡± The case was heard. Zax would go present his work to students of all ages at his old school, while Aran would take a rest day to spend it with her friend, and as a bonus the seed of the therapy idea was planted in both of them. The conversation moved to less sensitive topics, including one Zax actually wanted to bring up since the previous day. ¡°So, I¡¯ve been thinking about why I couldn¡¯t make your templates, because my ¡®you¡¯re too high energy for normal equations¡¯ theory, that was already wobbly at best, doesn¡¯t work at all with Strange Girl.¡± ¡°She is pretty active tho?¡± The tailed girl defended. ¡°All those exercises¡­¡± She added with a shiver. ¡°True, but even when she¡¯s exhausted and inert, my scans don¡¯t work. Plus, yours is more of a constant, ongoing flow, as if you were physically unable to be below a certain level for more than a second. Hers is a more common large pool connected to a dam, and she can control the floodgate thanks to her training.¡± ¡°Training? Not a mutation?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so. Maybe minor parts of her mutations helped, but she knows too much about training her body and her own limits to discount it.¡± The winged girl felt strangely proud of that declaration, and she wasn¡¯t sure she liked it or not, considering how she had obtained said familiarity. Regardless, Zax wasn¡¯t done: ¡°On the other hand, her brain scan works just fine, so I went on a limb and reworked the data to model individual organs. And guess what? It worked! But they wouldn¡¯t fit together. So I fit them manually, piece by piece. And it worked fine as long as I didn¡¯t include a specific part. Not the same for the both of you.¡± Their blank faces showed they didn¡¯t understand what he was getting at, but he wasn¡¯t discouraged: ¡°The left kidney for you,¡± he pointed to Aran. ¡°And parts of your skeleton. Not sure if it is the whole bones or part of them.¡± He told Strange Girl. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why. Nothing wrong with them; as I said, they work fine. They are what they are supposed to be and do what they are supposed to do, but their template will just¡­ not click with the rest.¡± He helplessly shrugged. ¡°So¡­ Any idea of what it could be?¡± He eagerly looked at the huddled pair in front of him. He had looked in every database he could, from all angles he could think of, but in vain. Any hindsight they could have would be his best shot. It didn¡¯t look promising. ¡°Sorry, I¡­ don¡¯t think there¡¯s¡­ something weird¡­ with my bones.¡± Strange Girl answered first, hesitant, but only because of the strangeness of the query. ¡°They are perfectly normal bones, only the shape is notable and even that is perfectly compatible with avian anatomy.¡± Zax nodded in confirmation. ¡°But do you know if something happened to you, that would leave an impact on your bones? An illness or an accident in your childhood? Maybe a calcium deficiency or something similar?¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Aran¡¯s sound of realisation attracted his eyes so fast Zax felt a pull in his neck. ¡°Yes?¡± He pressed when the silence extended. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ personal. Can you¡­ secure the room?¡± She fidgeted, looking at her twisting hands in her lap, her tail all but screaming her desire to run away from an imminent threat. They had never seen the tailed girl so flustered. It wasn¡¯t embarrassment either, it was¡­ fear? Zax and Strange Girl exchanged a glance, but he complied without question. They sat her in the couch, between them, comforting hands and wings grabbing hers as a matter of course. The wordless support probably helped, because she took a deep breath and started her tale, slowly, watching her words: ¡°When I was a child, I fell seriously sick. Renal failure. It¡¯s when, er, when your kidneys don¡¯t work well enough.¡± Unusual, but not unheard of, easy to cure, and definitely not something to hide. ¡°I heard that normally, it¡¯s easy to cure. Well, I don¡¯t know how easy, but there are systems to make it affordable. But I couldn¡¯t get them. Because of¡­ my father.¡± Her face scrunched at the mention. ¡°He was addicted. Gambling. Any unit we had, he lost it. The Main Computer can¡¯t force someone to go to detox until they do something illegal, but it can refuse to give him benefits until he pulled himself together. And that¡­ refused to see there was something wrong with him. We were out of options, so, in despair, my mother took a huge risk. She asked for help from¡­ unsavoury people. They agreed. They had this thing they could do, they called it ¡®surgery¡¯, I think, that could save me. My mother didn¡¯t want me to know more, and I don¡¯t remember the details. They made me fall asleep, and when I woke up, I felt weak, and I was home. Several days had passed. And I can confirm that my first mutation happened way later. But after that, I got better. I was cured. I could finally leave my bed. Go outside. Play with my friends. I never had health problems since. Nothing related, I mean.¡± ¡°That would also fit with your ¡®can¡¯t stay in place¡¯ and ¡®friends with everyone¡¯ attitude.¡± Zax faintly nodded. It might feel like a cold comment, and it was, because he had distanced himself emotionally for the difficult retelling. It was the only way to let her finish. He still broke the mask for a tight group hug when it was done. He couldn¡¯t relate with family issues, but he could tell she needed it. ¡°Thank you for sharing that with us.¡± Her eyes were shut. She didn¡¯t cry, but she hugged tighter. When she let go, Zax attempted: ¡°I know it was difficult, but I have questions. Can I¡­?¡± After a steadying breath and a nod, he continued. ¡°Someone did something to heal your defective kidney when you were a child, and it didn¡¯t have any side effect besides disturbing my scans. And you don¡¯t know what it was. That¡¯s something. Do you know who were those shady people?¡± Aran didn¡¯t react, but Zax had unstoppable arguments. ¡°To secure the room more than usual, you must want to hide it from the Main Computer itself. If that¡¯s the case, rest assured: it already knows. There is simply no way to hide several days of absence or unconsciousness. Especially if it let you live longer than expected. If there were consequences to have, they already happened.¡± ¡°Unless it happened in a Circle.¡± Strange Girl pointed. ¡°Yes, unless it¡­ uh. I never thought about that.¡± Zax deadpanned. ¡°Did it?¡± ¡°Ah, no, I never left the dot. It was all inside. I think.¡± She still wasn¡¯t inclined to answer the other question, but surprising everyone, Strange Girl had her own idea: ¡°It was the Black Market, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Two faces turned to her at once, but she didn¡¯t flinch. She just looked sad and distant. ¡°Surgery is their specialty. And they are good at it.¡± The foxy girl¡¯s cowering, her tail trying and failing to wrap around her was all the confirmation they needed. ¡°It exists?¡± Zax felt his blood surge. ¡°I thought it was an urban legend, popularised by movies and memes and that ended up in our pop culture. I even use it in jokes.¡± A wordless, languishing nod would have to be enough. ¡°Uh. So¡­ what¡¯s that ¡®surgery¡¯ thing?¡± ¡°It¡¯s when you cut people open to manually change the body. Remove, add, replace things inside. If it¡¯s a sick part, you are cured after.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ horrifying.¡± The programmer paled. ¡°How can anyone survive that?¡± ¡°Anaesthesia. I don¡¯t know the details, but it¡¯s not a secret. I¡¯m sure you can look it up.¡± ¡°How could that cure me?¡± Aran¡¯s voice was barely audible. She was even paler than Zax and clutching her belly like it might fall off. ¡°I dunno. I¡¯m not an expert.¡± The winged girl helplessly shrugged. ¡°Remove your kidney? Replace it with someone else¡¯s? I know it¡¯s possible, but compatibility is a barrier only 3G can solve. Maybe you got lucky with a naturally compatible one?¡± ¡°Found it. Surgery: a branch of medicine requiring manual and instrumental intervention.¡± Zax read from his research. ¡°Which means¡­ healing the body, with¡­ hands and tools? Oh, in the ¡®before 3G¡¯ era, it was the best, sometimes the only way to heal many issues, including but not limited to organ disfunction, organ failure, tumours, cancer¡­ Organ failure, there¡¯s a link. Procedure, graft and organ transplant. Funny, I already heard those words for trees, but I would¡¯ve never thought it worked on humans too. But how does that help? Example: renal failure. Oh.¡± It absolutely was not a secret; the open database had a lot of information from all ages. It was merely hidden by lack of public knowledge; nobody knew there was such a thing to look for. Similar with nanites, actually. He dove in the research of that brand new field. It didn¡¯t take long to understand why it wasn¡¯t used anymore: even the lightest intervention was risky and could lead to a myriad trouble down the line. 3G could help with those, but a judicious use of 3G could solve the original issue with no risk, no complication and even a possible improvement. Maybe it was related to Aran¡¯s boundless energy? An interesting venue of study, but something else troubled the programmer. He questioned his winged guest: ¡°Surgery leaves scars, but enough basic 3G activations would take care of that. No wonder I didn¡¯t see traces of an operation. But how did they operate on so many of your bones? Did they try to replace your whole skeleton?¡± It was an insane thought, but the whole practice still felt unreal to him. It made perfect sense when he read about it; it was undeniably a field of science, but¡­ cutting someone open to rummage inside, it sounded like a horror game scenario made by an edgy teen. ¡°Ah, no.¡± the winged girl shook off her haze. ¡°I, had a¡­ bone marrow transplant.¡± A few queries in his bracelet and a deep shiver later, Zax knew what she was talking about. First extracting bone marrow from someone, subsequently inject it in someone else¡¯s blood stream so it is assimilated by the bones all over their body. Fighting to keep his breath steady and calm his stomach¡¯s queasiness, he concluded: ¡°Yes, it is consistent with my findings.¡± After what he rushed to the sink. Chapter 31 - Progress If Zax hadn¡¯t already seen someone literally melt in front of him, he might not have managed to keep his stomach¡¯s content where it was. He already knew medicine was a hard and difficult field, but surgery was something else entirely. He couldn¡¯t fathom integrating such a practice to the already exacting syllabus of medical schools. Zax would venture in that path later. Way later. All three gladly put the topic behind them and moved on to games. This evening¡¯s choice was a quiz about current news. It was a ludic way to get Strange Girl levelled with the current events and dotter culture. As usual, the game quickly derailed in loosely connected queries, as she had her own questions that were more interesting and even granted new hindsight to what they thought they knew. Her reactions to specific topics weren¡¯t as subtle as she believed, though. Zax made it a personal game to try and piece it out. From then on, Zax forced himself to spend an hour daily to study the theory of surgery and what it could do. He didn¡¯t want to get blindsided again. That field was gross and as tedious as studying nanotechnology had been, so the habits and methods he had developed were plenty helpful. Fortunately, I only need enough to see what to look for if my scans fail again. Nevertheless, while it explained the issue, it didn¡¯t give him a solution. The templates were designed around the idea that bodies were a single, complex, muti-part object, and he had no idea why a grafted organ would break the algorithm. They may need to be reworked, which meant commissioning a specialist; he was inadequate in that department. The only positive news was that pushing themselves to their limits did help to get more precise and accurate partial templates, making extrapolations of the not-actually-missing piece more reliable. Which didn¡¯t make any more sense, the grafted organ was used as much as the rest, and just as functional. In the case of Strange Girl, her regular exercises also provided a stable reference for her brain scan. Zax estimated it wouldn¡¯t be long before they were ready to reconstruct memories with enough accuracy for a testimony to the Enforcers. What she would do after was still unclear. He posted the details of his commission for customising his algorithms in the network and only had to wait. He would be informed when someone picked it up, he would pay part of the agreed amount at that point, and the rest when it was done. With no immediate progress forthcoming on that front, the programmer turned back to his other project. He was done analysing the recordings of the¡­ the Core¡¯s sentence, and he had started on the relationship between acupoints and the 3G activation¡¯s volcanic veins. After that, he would come back to finding more application for the swarm. He shamefully admitted he had forgotten about it. With everyone busy with various tasks, several days had passed in a blink. It was time for Zax to go back to school. He had left early so he wouldn¡¯t have to go straight to the presentations. A tour of the place came first, to see the changes since the last time. The former student fondly reminisced about his own childhood, the stunts he did with his friends in the hallways, meeting Quinn in the cafeteria, his ex-girlfriend and roommate. He wasn¡¯t surprised to see his former guardians and his teachers. They greeted each other, introducing their new colleagues and listing the retired ones. Time truly spares no one except the old canine caretaker. Eventually came the main amphitheatre. Most careers in every field would be presented one after the other to the masses, mostly younglings unsure about the future they wanted, with the occasional adult looking for a new horizon. They kept the most popular jobs for the end, so his ¡®multi-purpose handyman¡¯ presentation was fairly early, but he didn¡¯t plan on getting back before the evening. He liked to see the other presentations as well, to watch for old and new faces, and maybe the occasional evolution of some fields. No such luck yet though, it was all standard lectures. He usually came for the following days of the event too, with gradually more specialised experts, but this time it would depend on the state he found his home and his roommates in when he was back. He would try to come again for his second presentation, about nanotechnology specifically, but how long he would stay was still in the air. He¡¯d have to warn his roommates too, he had totally forgotten about that. Maybe he was more stressed than he thought by the recent events? When it was time for his own presentation, Zax was relaxed and ready. It wasn¡¯t his first rodeo: ¡°Do you like wearing clothes? Do you like having clean water? Clean running water? Do you like it when doors don¡¯t collapse on your when as you pass through? You¡¯re welcome.¡± Handyman wasn¡¯t a glamourous job, but it was undeniably a necessary one. The human liked to see it as the varnish-lube that kept the machine of society running, and that was how he presented it to his young audience. To catch and keep their attention, he changed his tone and posture over a wide spectrum of emotions. He displayed pictures and videos of old and recent real-life examples and personal anecdotes. Large and smaller scales of work were used to catch more eyes. He mentioned the many fields required to be qualified for the many applications, the variety of tasks he was entrusted with, the pleasant and less pleasant people he met and interacted with, with the occasional satirical and self-derisive joke to boost the morale some. He was successively inquisitive, smug, afraid, annoyed, languid, proud, hurried and more, moving left and right, pointing to the relevant parts of the presentation screen, with or without flourish, depending on what the presentation and audience attention called for. And he quickly had to reach past his limits and keep going. It was so hard to do it all manually. Stars, I miss my HUD. ¡°Don¡¯t forget: we don¡¯t make tomorrow, we make sure today keeps running to it.¡± He already knew a presentation for that scale of audience was an ordeal in its own league, but he had pushed through and it was finally over. If the applauds at his parting words were any indication, he had succeeded in making most listen until the end. It wasn¡¯t a rousing excitation, but it was more than the barely polite claps usually heard this early in the event. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Early lecturers often forgot, but the point of the event was to promote their job and their fields in general, not themselves or their companies. Zax didn¡¯t, and he didn¡¯t expect anyone to suddenly dream of being a handyman, but there might be a few with a newfound appreciation for the work behind their clothes, their furniture and¡­ anything they used daily, really. Maybe a few would even pay attention to the coming specialist¡¯s presentation in a field he had expanded on. The rest of the presentations went by, the programmer ignoring the glare of the lazier, less applauded lecturers. If they wanted advice on how to improve, he would give it freely. As it was, he simply left after a round of goodbyes to his acquaintances, and after a detour on a hunch, he was home. When the door opened, he was almost surprised at the state it was in: ¡°All clean and ordered, and nothing broken. I am impressed.¡± ¡°How are we supposed to take that?¡± Aran¡¯s curt reaction was punctuated with a flat stare. Strange Girl hid her amused smile behind a wing, but she couldn¡¯t hold back the cute chuckle at the comment. The competitive Tetris above the kitchen bar had been put on pause when they heard the door open. ¡°I didn¡¯t have any hidden meaning, and I wouldn¡¯t dream of infringing on your freewill.¡± The programmer claimed, looking seriously in her eyes. ¡°Take it as you will, I shan¡¯t stop you.¡± The unexpected seriousness threw the foxy girl off, but she didn¡¯t let it stop her: ¡°My, you¡¯re awfully chipper today. Did something good happen?¡± ¡°As a matter of fact, yes.¡± He broke his fa?ade with a wide smile, moving to the couch. ¡°In one go, I proved I didn¡¯t need nanites in my brain to be effective, and that I wasn¡¯t addicted.¡± He flopped on the soft furniture with a relieved sigh. A forgotten holo-screen and two pairs of raised eyebrows made him continue: ¡°You know how I¡¯ve had nanites in my brain for years, and many programs to help me in many tasks, but I recently removed them and didn¡¯t put them back to see it there were side effects?¡± A shiver and two nods confirmed it. They had already told Strange Girl, although the actual reason for the removal hadn¡¯t come up. ¡°A few of the programs help me gauge and react to an audience¡¯s attention, interest, emotions¡­ Well, that kind of thing. It helps for many things: negotiation, lie detection and, in this case, making a presentation more compelling.¡± ¡°A charisma boost?¡± The tailed gamer¡¯s back straightened. ¡°I guess?¡± An exasperated but amused smile escaped him. ¡°Today, I did a presentation in front of a huge audience, I did it without help, and more importantly, it was a good one. It was hard and I regretted the absence at every step of the way, but I did it. Longest thirty minutes in a while. I know I made several mistakes, and I had to improvise a few times, but I made do. It shows I can function without nanite support.¡± ¡°Still creepy, but kinda reassuring.¡± Strange Girl didn¡¯t say anything, but her wince concurred. ¡°Rude.¡± An exaggeratedly affronted face was all the reaction they would get. ¡°Anyway, on the way back I went to a neurologist and they confirmed I don¡¯t have any sign of withdrawal or addiction. My brain is as healthy at it gets for a non-mutated organ. So is the rest of my nervous system, but it¡¯s not important.¡± He concluded his declaration by knocking on his skull like a door. ¡°That sounds more than important.¡± Aran replied flatly. ¡°Not relevant for the conversation, I mean.¡± ¡°Okay, that¡¯s great, but are you going to¡­¡± ¡°Of course.¡± He nodded. ¡°I already fixed the programs, but I have several ideas on how to use the swarm for better results than before. I just need to attach them to specific parts of neurons. Nono, don¡¯t worry!¡± He hurriedly added at their shocked reactions. ¡°I asked the simulator for the best results. I¡¯m not crazy.¡± The dot didn¡¯t have expendable animals for live testing, but the main computer could simulate anything, from behaviours to mechanisms to environments, down to a sub-atomic scale if required. It could be highly energy consuming, but a simulation of one organ with a molecular scale of resolution was not an issue. It only needed a clear set of parameters; variations up to all extremes would be easy. His query was already in the queue, but as a low priority personal project, there was no telling when he would have the results. ¡°I¡¯m not going through trial and error.¡± Zax closed the topic. ¡°I am fully aware of how brittle my body is; I won¡¯t risk it for fun. Now, what have you been up to?¡± The women didn¡¯t think any less of it, but they agreed to let the matter go. ¡°I introduced SG to the wonderful world of online gaming.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you do that long ago? Also, SG?¡± ¡°Short for ¡®Strange Girl¡¯.¡± Aran shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s the online name she chose. It feels more like an actual name, so it stuck. And I only introduced her to mute co-op games and flashgames before. Now she feels safe enough to try and communicate with strangers. Progress!¡± She punctuated with a double thumb-ups. It dawned on Zax that even if she appeared so casual about it, the foxy girl was serious about helping others. She too tried to reassure and open their roommate up, in her own way. For some reason, the realisation warmed his heart. ¡°That¡¯s so you.¡± He smiled, shaking his head. ¡°Had fun?¡± He added to the first interested. ¡°Hm!¡± A strong nod answered him. ¡°There really are all kind of people in the world.¡± ¡°Haha, that¡¯s one way to say it.¡± ¡°Not that scary from behind a screen, uh?¡± Aran and Zax chuckled. They spent a quiet evening, making small talk. Aran knew many virtual board games. She mentioned how working out with Strange Girl had proven surprisingly not-that-boring. ¡°Really? I¡¯ll have to give it a try. So is it the best time to tell you I have to leave again?¡± It wasn¡¯t, but Zax still explained the rest of the presentation event and the second presentation asked of him. Two days later, he would have to leave home for more than an hour. He had been reluctant, but considering the massive improvement displayed today, going as far as discussing with strangers without issue, he was willing to try and leave his winged friend alone for that long. He might have overstated her fragility, possibly due to her stress and its fallout at the time. Still, better safe than sorry. SG was proud and flattered at his increased faith in her. He too had adopted the nickname without realising. They didn¡¯t hold back on teasing him about his lapse either, but it was all in good fun. The next day was back to the grind, but it ended with a pleasant surprise: Zax received the results of his simulations. Not only was it unexpectedly fast, but it gave him everything he lacked to efficiently use the swarm. He started his reprogramming right away; the new scale didn¡¯t appear that different, but it changed many requirements in the programming language and made the old one inefficient at best and obsolete at worst. That was a nice problem to have, as far as he was concerned. The language update was quickly done, but adapting his existing software would take a while. Fortunately, they could work as they were, more wastefully. Zax would only update his infusion software before actually infusing his brain. He would change the other programs over time, and decide later if he wanted to invest more of the swarm in his own body. Naturally, he restocked it in ordinary nanites, but he wasn¡¯t sure the swarm would be an improvement outside the more precise and complex applications in his grey matter. An interesting question for later. He was barely done with that first update when it was time to leave again. He didn¡¯t have time for his first infusion, but he hadn¡¯t expected to. His second presentation went by normally, with a lot of excitement from the youngest audience. Live demonstrations were always captivating, and who wouldn¡¯t be fascinated by a metallic snake jumping, changing in a swarm of flying moths, and softly falling as leaves and giant snowflakes? There was not much interest beyond that, especially once he mentioned the extreme sensitivity to the disruptive fields, but that was expected. Childish or casual curiosity was objectively the best he could hope for. What was not expected was the woman who came to him afterwards, a Resident with few visible mutations, trying and failing to pass for a dotter. Chapter 32 - Ready ¡°Excuse me? Are you the nanite expert?¡± A voice called as Zax was leaving the building. He turned around, and the origin of the voice nonplussed him. It was common for lecturers to have someone call for them after their presentation. Meeting with old friends, an interested audience member, a job proposition¡­ there were many reasons to reach for a specialist¡¯s attention and time. It had never happened to Zax, but he was open to the idea. That wasn¡¯t the confusing part. It was also common for the Families governing the Circles to send members in the dot. Cat and Dog¡¯s situation notwithstanding, it had been a rarity. Some were sent as punishment far from their usual ¡®comfort¡¯, usually the low-level ones, less mutated. They were used for unskilled labour, the type where more hands were always better but machines were not adequate or not worth building. Others were sent ¡®in secret¡¯ for training in infiltration, negotiation and similar skills, normally higher-level people with subtle or hidden mutations. The Circle had to warn the Main Computer about their envoys of course, to prevent foul play. When they left, the computer would compile the ¡®suspicious¡¯ activities it had spotted for their performance to be evaluated by their own superiors. Any Resident caught without their presence known in advance or too close to the main computer itself was in for trouble, although Zax had never heard of it happening. The dot¡¯s policy was transparency, so it didn¡¯t actually have secrets; and the Circles wouldn¡¯t care about them anyways, which made it an adequate, neutral training and mixing ground. The dotters were not supposed to be aware of the secret envoys, but the wannabe spies were not all great at their job. Their presence and the main meeting places for each Families were open secrets at this point. The general order among dotters was to only tell them about their personal slip-ups, not the other¡¯s. They wouldn¡¯t improve otherwise. On the other hand, there was no telling how many successfully stayed hidden. Quinn had been such an example, although her situation was probably more complicated. They weren¡¯t supposed to stay long, the dot simply didn¡¯t have the room for that. In any case, Residents were either obvious and loud about it, or hard to spot without spending time with them. That was the confusing part. This woman was¡­ loudly hiding it? Her mutation was adequately light, merely a horn on the side of her head and a few coloured splotches on her skin. Typical bovine mutation. The lone horn was interesting, but only for his hobby. Mutations tended to keep the natural symmetries of life. Any new limb or organ would grow in a fitting place; no tentacles growing from the belly or eyes sprouting behind the knee. Single additions appeared on the central axis parallel with the spine, or at least grew from there, while everything else would come in mirrored pairs. There was the occasional inconsequential stray outgrowth against that rule, possibly precursor of something else coming, but the hobbyist had never heard of a complete piece doing so. Zax stopped starring before it became awkward, but the frown told him the object of his attention didn¡¯t appreciate it. Her clothes were more unusual, but it took a retoucher¡¯s eye to put it in words. It was the standard dot issue, but without a single alteration. Even the blandest of all dotters, someone who didn¡¯t care at all for appearances, would have some personality bleeding in their outfit. Even if only with the top completely tucked in and everything perfectly ironed, or a loose collar and waistband, or scuffed elbows and worn edges. The woman in front of him wore it like an advertisement, the perfect picture as displayed on the dispensers. Seeing it on an actual person felt eerie. It was also a tad too large for her. The most revealing part was not what she wore, however. It was what she didn¡¯t. No bracelet in sight. Even the clumsiest, laziest, most inept infiltrator wannabe knew to have a bracelet ¨C and the forums had priceless pearls. It was the basis for any exchange in the dot. In conclusion, she was¡­ a Resident who didn¡¯t know how to pass for a dotter, but tried to do so anyways? By improvising? It didn¡¯t make any sense. Still, confusion and personal history were not excuses for rudeness, and he had already gazed long enough. ¡°Yes? May I help you? Fair warning, I¡¯m waited somewhere so I can¡¯t dawdle.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± She nodded. ¡°I saw your presentation and I would like to talk with you. If it goes well, I have well placed friends that will want to meet you. Let¡¯s go to a normal meeting place among friendly machines so I can tell you more. You won¡¯t regret it.¡± Her voice had a strange lilt to it, but the programmer couldn¡¯t quite place it. ¡°New fan of nanotechnology?¡± The programmer raised an eyebrow but didn¡¯t lose his polite smile. ¡°Seems unlikely, but I don¡¯t mind talking more about it. Not now though, I really have to go. Just send me a mail and we can set a meeting. The event schedule they gave everyone has my address. Bye.¡± He walked back to the road, leaving the woman behind. ¡°What- No, wait, it¡¯s important!¡± She rushed to stay at his side. He didn¡¯t slow down. ¡°You¡¯re in luck, it¡¯s a calm period for me professionally, so I¡¯ll answer within a day. I can¡¯t promise more than that though, I have projects that take most of my time. Have a nice day.¡± The light road stop was a few steps in front of the facility¡¯s entrance, so they were already there. Zax was hovering away before he could make her answer out. I may have been a bit curt in the end here. ¡°That was surprisingly¡­ cold from you.¡± Aran stated when he narrated this strange encounter. Her crooked smile didn¡¯t know whether to laugh or frown, but her tail betrayed her amusement again. Zax answered with a sigh: ¡°I know. I¡¯ll have to apologise if she does follow through.¡± ¡°I could have waited a few minutes more.¡± SG added in a small voice. ¡°Call me crazy, but I don¡¯t think that was his reason.¡± She didn¡¯t run the entertainment centres anymore, but the social butterfly was still adept at reading people. ¡°I don¡¯t think it would have lasted a few minutes either.¡± Zax added. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure she wanted to talk about nanotechnology. The way she talked; it reminded me of when I try to lie without saying anything false.¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°You do that?¡± SG was flabbergasted. ¡°Rarely, and I¡¯m not very good at it.¡± Zax lamented. ¡°The only way people don¡¯t notice is if they don¡¯t know me at all, or if they are distracted by something else. And even then, they notice quickly after.¡± His eyes rose as he though back to their encounters. ¡°I didn¡¯t do it with you, but I did it with Aran when we first met.¡± ¡°You did!?¡± ¡°Not exactly lying, but at least manipulate your image of me. You didn¡¯t notice?¡± ¡°I¡­ try not to think much about it.¡± The incredulous silence made the tailed girl reluctantly continue. ¡°It was embarrassing.¡± She revealed, staring at the corner. ¡°What, the door thing? That wasn¡¯t even on purpose. The gaslight was before.¡± ¡°No, not that.¡± She whispered, hiding her face behind her knees. ¡°I was caught like a noob.¡± The conversation died off, but SG wasn¡¯t done. ¡°What do you think she was hiding?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± It took a few second for Zax¡¯s brain to come back to the previous conversation. ¡°Oh. Well, I think she did find me thanks to the presentation but that¡¯s not what she cared about. I think they want me for something not related to nanites, and I wouldn¡¯t put it past them to try and kidnap me. The last part is a stretch, but the way she said ¡®normal meeting place among friendly machines¡¯ felt like a trap. The way she said ¡®well-placed friends¡¯ and not ¡®powerful friends¡¯ made me think she didn¡¯t want to threaten me. Or she didn¡¯t want me to feel threatened.¡± ¡°And¡­ you¡¯re not worried at all? That sounds like something you should worry over.¡± ¡°Not really.¡± He shrugged. ¡°She was very bad at it, I hid my path from the network before coming here, and I filled the Enforcer form about ¡®suspicious encounters, but not enough to act on yet¡¯ on the way.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a thing?¡± Both girls were sceptical. ¡°It is. I learnt about it on advanced first aid lessons. It¡¯s not the real name, but a query like that and you have the right form. Ah, but don¡¯t look for it for fun, or it won¡¯t have as much impact if you do end up needing one. You can go on their site and look among all the forms they have though.¡± ¡°First aid goes way deeper than I thought. So, what now?¡± ¡°Now, my injection software is finally up to date and I can start getting a new home to the smallest machine the dot has ever seen.¡± Zax was rubbing his hands without realising, too excited at the prospect. What new possibilities will they open? ¡°We can move to your calibration when I¡¯m done.¡± He added to SG. ¡°You should be ready for testimony now.¡± ¡°Oh, we can all do the exercises together!¡± Aran jumped in excitement. ¡°Is there enough room for that here?¡± Zax didn¡¯t think it was possible. ¡°Ah, no, sorry, I forgot.¡± She fell lower than before. ¡°Haha!¡± Two chuckles filled the room before Zax moved to his workshop, closing the door behind him. ¡°Just give me a few minutes and you do it together. I¡¯ll keep an eye on the scan.¡± Infusing his brain would require several doses spread over time and constant watch until they were all in place, but he had already prepared everything he needed. He couldn¡¯t have the nanites directly injected in his grey matter, but the second-best option, to put it directly in his blood stream, was easy enough. Advanced first aid had also taught him how to use a needle, but there was a common and less intrusive option. Suppositories bypassed the powerful digestive system and directly accessed the blood stream, it was ideal for any sensitive product, and didn¡¯t need any special equipment. It also naturally kept the doses small and spread out, unless the patient was a masochist. Why would our ancestors consider that taboo? For all his respect, some parts of the ancient cultures would always baffle him. In any case, he was quickly done, and the checks before and after showed nothing wrong. Most nanites would be in place in a few minutes, but he would wait a few hours before the second dose. The program to actually use them would launch once he was asleep, and would finish when enough were in place. Back in the living room, the girls were ready too. Zax prepared his programs and gave the go. SG tried to guide Aran through the easier version of her exercises, but she was not exactly¡­ skilled at teaching. Lots of confusing advices such as ¡°move it up¡± when the pupil couldn¡¯t see her, and ¡°You should feel a whoosh-waah¡±. Even Zax, familiar with most exercises, didn¡¯t understand what she tried to get at. He helped her fix her posture, but mostly stayed focused on his holographic monitors. At the end of the session, Aran was panting and in dire need of a shower, but high on endorphins and dopamine. SG was merely winded. She looked at her tailed friend like an amused but proud parent looking at their children. Zax had seen it in dramas. Once rested, Aran went to the water unit and he shared the good news: ¡°Your scans are good and calibrated enough to recreate your memories up to one month back.¡± And then some, but it was better to go too far than not enough. ¡°Will that be enough for what you need?¡± She nodded wordlessly. Her mirth had dissipated in an instant. ¡°Great. Now there are several ways we can do this. No matter what you choose, actively thinking about the events, trying to remember, or trying not to, will help. I know, the brain can be weird like that.¡± Aran came back at that moment, clean and refreshed. Feeling the mood and knowing what it was about, she silently sat on the couch on the opposite side of her friend and took a wing in her hands for comfort. ¡°First, I can set the dates of when it happened, and the data will compile itself over time. No effort required from you, but it will take the longest time, as in very long, and the results will not be that good. It may lead to Enforcers still needing a ¡®normal¡¯ testimony, if you see what I mean.¡± A wince confirmed how unpleasant the idea was for her. ¡°Second is to make an actual testimony. Talk about it, to us, on your own, you can also write it down, or draw it and delete the result before anyone can see it. It will stimulate your episodic memory, and the nanites will piggyback on that to access and build from your sensory memory. They will have the right parts faster and more accurately. It could even be done in one go.¡± The pair reacted as one, displaying painful thoughts. ¡°Third is sort of a compromise: to reconstruct all your memories backwards starting from now, but I will still need dates to know when to stop. It will not take as long as looking directly for the right memories, but more than if you directly feed them the right ones. The Enforcers can then use your recent memories to determine how accurate the old ones will be.¡± ¡°You will give them the recent parts too?¡± Aran vocalised the question they both had. ¡°Of course. I will give them the recording immediately, after only checking the raw data¡¯s stability and coherence. I won¡¯t look at the actual content without consent, and I can¡¯t split the old ones without looking. I won¡¯t know if they will be clear enough for the Enforcers either. They could still need a normal testimony, but it¡¯s not very likely.¡± He let the options sink in, before concluding: ¡°In any case, the recording will only be of your senses. What you saw, heard, smelt, the state of your body, NOT what you thought or the emotions you felt. There will be hints of that though, your hesitations, shivers, cold sweat on your back, and so on.¡± The dotters let SG stew a moment, but Aran couldn¡¯t bear it any longer: ¡°Sorry to say it Zax, but there¡¯s no good option here.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t I just¡­ stay here and forget about it?¡± The winged girl¡¯s downcast voice and bowed body tore at their hearts. Zax put a hand on her shoulder to make her look in his warm eyes, his voice soft as velvet. ¡°We will be happy to be your safe haven, but we can¡¯t be your whole world. That¡¯s no way to live.¡± She briefly slumped a bit more, but nodded. She expected as much. ¡°Is it that hard to think about it?¡± Aran queried in a sympathetic voice. ¡°From what she said when we met, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s the reason.¡± Zax opposed. ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t directly propose she tells us and I record her recall. At first, she didn¡¯t trust anyone enough to risk sharing the information. She trusts us a bit more now. I hope. So I think, she wants to tell us, but she doesn¡¯t know if she wants us to know.¡± Aran had no idea what to say to that, and SG was shaken at how true it sounded in her ears. She hadn¡¯t realised herself. But why? Where did that come from? After a long silence, an answer was whispered: ¡°I don¡¯t want to scare you.¡± Those were her words, but the dotters knew her enough to descry what was left unsaid. I don¡¯t want you to be scared of me. Chapter 33 - Relatable ¡°I know how that feels.¡± Zax nodded sombrely. The downcast girl didn¡¯t react. She didn¡¯t believe him. ¡°I did bad things too. Horrible things.¡± His voice was grave enough to startle her. Aran turned to him too. It was his turn to be downcast. ¡°I try to handle it on my own, with tricks and lessons I learnt in therapy before. It¡¯s slow and not done yet, but it works. The nightmares come a lot less strongly now. I even work with the results of my actions.¡± He added with a smile. A smile devoid of any mirth. ¡°That way I can say it wasn¡¯t for nothing. Even if I can¡¯t say if it was worth it.¡± He wanted to stop there; it should be enough to show he genuinely understood. Both of his friends¡¯ eyes convinced him otherwise, even as he knew they wouldn¡¯t ask for more: ¡°I already said too much, didn¡¯t I?¡± He sighed, bracing himself for a difficult explanation. ¡°When I was in the Core, I acted as executioner for the one accomplice we caught.¡± Aran was surprised at the news, but SG was shocked. Even she knew how unreachable the Core was, and the news she had read about the still recent happenings inside had been a source of fascination and curiosity. They respected anonymity however, and she would have never guessed Zax had been involved. They both kept silent, unwilling to disturb him. ¡°I didn¡¯t have explicit instructions or anything. I was just put in a room with mechanical controls. The big commands in the middle poured different amounts of 3G in the room next door, where the convict was. The walls were covered with other commands. Add different substances to the poured mix. Change size and temperature of the other room. Brightness and humidity. Make the ground vibrate. Many things like it.¡± ¡°The sentence was a lot of 3G?¡± Aran queried. ¡°To consume immediately. Doesn¡¯t make sense, right? I thought the same.¡± Zax nodded. ¡°But it was the only thing to do. I had no way of communicating, even with the guy, and I couldn¡¯t leave until the Core made a door. So I did it.¡± He had held up remarkably well so far, but he visibly sagged at that point. His friends couldn¡¯t miss it and didn¡¯t dare say a word. ¡°I started normally, but after a while of nothing happening, it was tedious. So I mixed things up. Give a lot of 3G at once, then a little. Add a bit of acid. A lot of acid. Make him anticipate the next batch, and pour pure acid. Make him dread the next batch of pure 3G, then make him jump at it head first when he realised it was safe. Then I started to experiment. To try and force specific mutations. Make the room darker so he would develop low light vision. Then very bright to force a mutation not using eyes that much. Make it cold so he would develop thick fur, then hot so he would overheat and hyperventilate, and once mutated for that make it cold again. But going back and forth made him adapt to both extremes. You know, eventually. So I got creative. I tried to orient his wishes beyond ¡°make it stop¡±. Noises. Vibration. Water, gases, flashes. I used everything I had and everything I knew. Sometimes I failed, but there was always next time. Sometimes I combined things just to see what would happen. I kept going even after he stopped reacting to anything.¡± His trembling had intensified to a full body shiver when he stopped talking. As he didn¡¯t add anything for a few minutes, Aran thought he was done: ¡°Well, if you had to carry the sentence anyway, there¡¯s nothing bad with studying it, right? You love to study mutations, why wouldn¡¯t you try and experiment?¡± ¡°Because I¡­ I¡­ I enjoyed it!¡± His voice broke into sobs, but he kept going. Stopping was impossible at that point. Unthinkable. He didn¡¯t even feel his whole body shaking or how loud he was. ¡°I can¡¯t pretend I did everything for science! Even when the punishment part revealed itself, I found it fascinating! He melted! He melted in front of my very eyes! I made a man¡¯s living body flow and fall in a puddle around him and I was curious! I stared at his eyes begging for help and I was annoyed that I couldn¡¯t see the rest! I watched a pool of liquefied flesh that was once a person coalesce in a big uniform ball and I wondered ¡®what is it made of?¡¯! And I- and I-¡± His voice was silenced by wracking weeps, but he didn¡¯t need it anymore. Aran and SG were shocked speechless. They would have never dreamt of something nearing that development. It seemed straight out of a movie! They were both out of their depth. Should they comfort him or give him space? Pretend nothing had happened? Act like it was no big deal? No. They knew him enough to tell he would resent denial more than anything. In the end, they stayed on the couch, unmoving. It took a moment for him to calm down enough to talk. ¡°Thank you. You¡¯re both nice. So, you see, I am a worse monster than you¡¯ll ever be. I can¡¯t be afraid of you.¡± I don¡¯t deserve it. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°You¡¯re not a monster!¡± Aran¡¯s snap startled the other pair. ¡°Something impossible was happening right in front of you! It¡¯s normal to ask questions. But you were not just curious, were you? I bet you were also afraid, terrified, and horrified.¡± Zax could only nod wordlessly. He had been. He had only realised the horror of his own thoughts and behaviour afterwards, when he had calmed enough to actually consider it. She didn¡¯t stop. She grabbed his head in her hands and put their foreheads together. Her eyes grabbed his and she claimed with a voice that didn¡¯t allow any defiance: ¡°You are literally the strongest bestest nicest person I ever met. You¡¯re skilled enough your regular pay would let you work, like, one day a week, and you still work every day plus manage a common shop at the highest capacity you are legally allowed to. And why are you doing that?¡± ¡°Because I-¡± ¡°Because you want to contribute more! Not for more credits. Not for fame or clout, most people you meet don¡¯t even know about it. Not for sex, I¡¯m not even sure you have a sex drive.¡± ¡°I do, I just-¡± ¡°You contribute more to the dot than five grown men, because you can, and because it¡¯s just the right thing to do.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not-¡± ¡°Even your hobby helps others. I saw your mutation reports in the forums, after I talked with Eety. I was looking for mine, and I found others. You can claim you just analysed their mutations for fun, it doesn¡¯t change the fact you¡¯ve helped every person you spent time with to be more in touch with themselves. To develop their jobs, their hobbies, their habits, their lives in a better direction. Or a healthier one. Or a happier one. Even if the process hurt them sometimes. And where does it usually lead? Unexpected activations with bigger effects than they should. Mutations they could now understand, accept and develop instead of ignoring them like most people. Mutations that slightly changed direction, just enough to fit them a bit more. Did you know Eety activated since the last time we saw her? It happened the first time she sang for her friend after getting out. It made her think about what you said, and for the first time since her teenage years, it focused on her throat and lungs again. Her voice is notably better now. Notably, you hear? She even landed a regular gig. Doing something she loves, thanks to her mutation, that she will keep on doing.¡± He understood what she was getting at. It was exceptional for a dotter¡¯s mutation to have a significant improvement in one activation. Only the first one brought a notable effect. The others merely build up on it in small increments. It was his turn to be speechless. SG was too, looking at them with eyes so wide they seemed about to fall. The tailed girl let go of his face and leaned back. After a deep breath, she continued in a calmer, more comforting, but not less firm tone: ¡°Zax. It¡¯s not a coincidence if so many of your acquaintances became Residents. You push them forward in life. And I am sure they are all grateful. I know I am. And I didn¡¯t even activate.¡± She added with a chuckle. ¡°You do a lot of good around you, just being yourself. You are a good person.¡± ¡°No.¡± He resisted. ¡°I don¡¯t do any of that out of altruism. I keep working because I¡¯m bored. And I do unscrupulous things just to get interesting scans. Like with you. I saw you try and weasel your way in my friend¡¯s life, so I manipulated you for a scan. I gave you an illusion of choice, but it was between something I knew you didn¡¯t want and something I made you too upset to think straight about. I knew you had troubles, but your graft was the only reason I didn¡¯t make you leave the very next day.¡± ¡°Excuse. My mutation is nothing special, and you could¡¯ve kept tabs on me even if I had left.¡± Was the matter-of-fact answer. Bringing that day¡¯s breakup wouldn¡¯t help, so she didn¡¯t. ¡°Not legally, and not enough for a scan. And your mutation is very special. Mixed hybridation is a rarity even in the Circles. Mutations generally mix one other lifeform with your baseline. Some lucky ones have two lifeforms, but even then, they don¡¯t mix. They affect different parts of the body. Some even think they actively hinder each other¡¯s development. Your tail is a mix of fox and cat. Two lifeforms in a single limb. Colour, size, body language, all have features of both. It should be impossible, some of those are opposing even if others overlap. But it is there, as healthy and functional as any mutation. The partial scan confirmed it to be true at a structural level too.¡± The object of his revelation was at a loss. Her mouth opened and closed but no words came. Her tail hung lifelessly in her lap. He wasn¡¯t done yet: ¡°My theory does not account for that, but it would say you are two things at once. Trying to at least. Two things that are not incompatible, but don¡¯t have much in common beyond the baseline. Maybe a conflict between your want and your need, that you handle in a special way. Maybe you are using two unrelated skillsets for the same goal. Or one skillset for several unrelated goals. Maybe all of the above. Maybe none of the above. Getting to know you since, I can sort of see some of that conflict, but not really. I don¡¯t know what you want in life, and you¡¯ve changed a lot already. In any case, you are a rarity. Enough to make me want to keep you around. It was all for me, and it took an execution before I noticed.¡± The following lull in the conversation was interrupted by an unexpected source: ¡°Did you really enjoy it?¡± As one, Zax and Aran turned to SG, nonplussed. She had her legs to her face and hugged them with her wings, but she elaborated her thoughts: ¡°You were trapped in a bad situation where all you could do was experiment. You coped with the stress by leaning on your scientific curiosity. So when something impossible happened, curiosity was at the forefront. But did you enjoy his pain? His despair? His begging for help?¡± ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know? I despised him, hated him more than anything¡­¡± ¡°When it was done, did you regret having to stop? Did you wish it had lasted longer? Did you want to do it again?¡± That might be the longest they ever heard her talk. And the most assertive. Zax answered without conscious thought: ¡°N- No?¡± I just wanted it to be over. ¡°Did you laugh? Or smile?¡± ¡°No.¡± His answer wasn¡¯t hesitant anymore. Maybe vindicative pleasure, but no smile. ¡°You¡¯re not a monster. I¡¯ve met monsters. I became one. You don¡¯t fit the bill. At all.¡± Another silence filled the room until she unfolded her body. She turned to them, her eyes crestfallen but determined¡­ or maybe resigned? ¡°I¡¯m ready to talk now.¡± Chapter 34 - Delivering Baggage When SG finished her retelling, Zax and Aran understood why she had been so reluctant. If Zax had been surprised to learn the Black Market actually existed, he was absolutely flabbergasted to learn what it did far behind the curtain. Exploiting people¡¯s misery and despair was morally bankrupt, but the victims accepted the surgery and outrageous debt as lesser evils. Surgery itself was a gruesome practice, but it actually helped or saved people. But enslavement? Shock collars? Forced to fight? Sometimes to the death? For entertainment!? And that was only the part SG had personally seen! She knew other parts existed, although she didn¡¯t have details. It felt like the caricatural villains in the stories he had grown up with. No, the Black Market was even worse: those people actually existed. Those events had actually happened. Maybe they still do. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. The winged girl depicted the arena¡¯s daily life. The worst part was not in what she described. It was how. How¡­ casual and natural it sounded to her. She didn¡¯t explicitly mention it, but the dotters had no doubt she had already killed before. Many times. It shed a disturbing, but revealing and somehow reassuring light on her panic attack, back when she had accidentally drawn Zax¡¯s blood. She never talked about herself, but she had indeed met monsters. Abominations who came to the arena of their own volition, to revel in the pain and suffering they could openly inflict. As wrong as it was, a tiny part of Zax couldn¡¯t help but be relieved at the existence of worse people than him in the world. Their fun usually ended when they inevitably faced the arena¡¯s favourite, another sadist called Harpy. Despite the way SG spoke of her, with the most vitriol of all, but Zax couldn¡¯t help but consider she wasn¡¯t as twisted as the others. That one¡¯s actions seemed more geared toward making the others react than dealing physical or emotional damage. Aran would later confirm a similar impression. Playing with her prey like that, Zax would bet his shop against dirty shoes she had feline mutations. Probably a puma, with all that jumping around. SG must have been toyed with and taken it personally. Their narrator only started to express fear ¨C actual terror ¨C when came the part of the Enforcer raid in the arena. She had been incredibly lucky. Zax didn¡¯t dare to connect the younger ¡®doom harbinger¡¯ to the plot he had partly unveiled in the Core, but Aran didn¡¯t share such qualms. They found hard to believe Enforcers would shoot fleeing people in the back, but they had no information on how they would handle an intervention of such scale where most involved people didn¡¯t have a bracelet. As SG was proof, it would have been close to easy for them to disappear. It explained their friend¡¯s paranoia about people knowing where she was too. It was a wonder she had accepted their help like she had. Her general background justified the strange gaps and non-gaps in her general knowledge, and a few quirks the dotters had noted but not thought much of. When she was done, everyone¡¯s emotions were so raw there was only one thing to do: a long and tight group hug, full of ugly crying, snot and wordless stammers. The trio ended up emotionally exhausted, but closer than ever. They bathed in the afterglow, slumped on the couch, starring at nothing and thinking about nothing. They didn¡¯t even try to get up before falling in a dreamless slumber, one after the other. Aran¡¯s alarm was accompanied by two more groans than usual; a folded sofa for three wasn¡¯t conductive to a remedial rest. The friends untangled, stretched, and awkwardly went about their day, religiously avoiding mentions of the previous night. The talks, emotional rollercoasters and tear sessions had made them closer than ever. Falling asleep in the same couch still felt like a boundary too far to cross. Aran rushed to get ready and left for her job; Miss Pen, the most autonomous elder of the dot, was asking for her more and more often. SG opened an online lesson where she had left it, and Zax went to his workshop for a new swarm injection and to continue his work. The atmosphere wasn¡¯t tense, but between the three of them, a total of four words had been spoken, with a profusion of half-hidden glances. It would pass, but it was still unpleasant. Zax was finally set on his desktop when he realised SG¡¯s nanites were still running. He had fallen asleep without turning it off. Oops. Well, having that much direct readings would make for a better final result, so it was no big deal; he would simply work with the part before she fell asleep. Recording a dream was within his nanites¡¯ purview, but understanding or translating this kind of cerebral activity was a different beast altogether. None of his programs could do it. Holding on to his promise of not watching without explicit authorisation, he compiled the final testimony and had an old program check it for integrity. It would tell him if parts were too lacking to be of use, such as a section with too much haziness to make a picture, or a time frame too monotone or jumbled to determine how long it had actually lasted. Those had been serious problems in the earliest versions of the recording software; it would show what needed to be fixed or recorded again without him looking at it. Great news: it was perfect. Well, good enough, at least. SG wouldn¡¯t have to go through it again. Zax had been worried the events had been too long ago and the memories too repressed to be directly usable, part of why he had aimed for such thorough calibration before starting, but thinking back it had been silly. Breaking out was a pivotal point in her life, of course she wouldn¡¯t forget it so easily. And repression was the apex of not thinking about it. When he delivered the news, it was accompanied by a second one: since they had a better idea of what had triggered her panic attack, they could more or less be sure it wouldn¡¯t happen if she was alone in his home. It freed him to go deliver her testimony right away. He¡¯d rather not; it was clear she didn¡¯t want to be alone so soon after opening her heart, and he felt the same. Aran¡¯s lunch break wasn¡¯t enough for him to make the trip and back, so they waited until she was done with her day, mid-afternoon. With a few reassuring words about her future and hopefully not raising any flags, he was on his way. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. The handyman went to the Enforcer station Officer Bor had his office in, but he had to stay in the waiting room a moment before he was let in. The building and its insides were surprisingly typical of an administrative workplace; an open space with retractable partitions between desks for those wishing for isolation. Everything was made of mass-produced, decent quality but easily replaceable material. The rooms for detention or interrogation were probably elsewhere. Everything was bustling with activity; the whole force was still quite busy with the recent series of investigations related to the attack on the Core. Or maybe it was a normal state? Zax pondered as he abided. When he was finally called, the towering officer was courteous but not less busy than the rest, so Zax went straight to the point. When he put the custom thumb drive in the desk, Officer Bor instantly recognised it. This one wasn¡¯t made of nanites, but it was the model Zax based the last one on. He explained what the recording was, how he had made it, what it should show, and that he hadn¡¯t seen the content himself. He gave the barest explanation of who it came from and asked not to press the issue. On his witness¡¯ behalf. What was recorded casted some doubts on Enforcers in general. ¡°I came to you because meeting you personally led me to trust and respect your integrity and ability as an Enforcer. Even if I still don¡¯t understand what made you put me in a leading position. That trust does not extend to your colleagues. You know why.¡± He hadn¡¯t pressed the issue, but Zax hadn¡¯t forgotten the two agents who had tried to stop him when he had responded to the emergency call. Even if they were possibly working under a Circle¡¯s Family at the time, it did make him wary of random Enforcers too. Especially when people outside the dot were involved. ¡°I thought you were the least bad option of all three. Simple as that. I wasn¡¯t happy with it either, but your delayed message gave me more faith. Now thank you for the recording, but what do you expect from me?¡± ¡°To watch it, or at least skim it, give it to the relevant services or people, and tell me what kind of fallout to expect for the witness. They live in fear and hiding since we first met.¡± ¡°Acceptable.¡± He nodded. ¡°You already set a precedent, so it should be all that will be asked of her, like for you.¡± An eyebrow was raised but he answered his immediate thoughts nonetheless. ¡°Maybe a reward will be granted if she revealed necessary information we were missing, but without a way to contact her and with a clear desire for anonymity, she¡¯ll have to come and claim it herself. Do you think she would need to be placed under a witness protection program?¡± ¡°If you can earn her trust, it would probably feel safer, but I don¡¯t think they are targeted yet. No one who knows they exist should know if she is alive, and definitely not where they are now. I came to you so this recording wouldn¡¯t make her a target. Can I trust you with that? Also, the precedent I set was with a live recording, not reconstructed. It could have an effect on the legal value, I don¡¯t know. The drive has all the raw data as well, but I don¡¯t know who else could read that for cross-reference.¡± While Zax was talking, the officer readied his material and started to skim the recording as a private projection. Only he would see and hear anything. ¡°I won¡¯t say where this recording comes from, but it wouldn¡¯t be hard to infer it comes from my only outside visitor in weeks, and from there to watch your activity of the last weeks. The price of being so transparent with public information. I have an idea to blur that trace, but I¡¯ll tell you more when I¡¯m done here. I won¡¯t be long.¡± Zax nodded and obeyed. He was still reading the awards on the wall when Bor put his gear down. ¡°I see.¡± Not long, indeed. The officer was¡­ something. Zax couldn¡¯t tell. The recording had had some impact, but the programmer didn¡¯t reckon he could read such tightly a controlled face even if the swarm was fully set in his brain. ¡°I advise you don¡¯t watch it. There would be nothing to gain for a civilian.¡± The veteran stated before Zax could dwell on it. ¡°The raids are well known and would be impossible to hide anyway, but the details of what they did and found are still veiled. I still know my involved colleagues were more tightly watched than usual, so this should be a great help. I will send it to the internal affairs and the raid leaders. They will decide if such use of¡­ force was warranted. I can at least assure you there was no culling order, though.¡± Zax¡¯s eyebrows had lowered at the ¡°lethal¡± so naturally fitting in the pause, but they rose to the ceiling at the last part. ¡°No need to be so surprised. That¡¯s what your witness is afraid of, isn¡¯t it? She did nothing wrong, but it would be a reasonable thought to have in her circumstances. You can reassure her. Even with the veil, there are hints about what¡¯s happening.¡± The mere existence of such an opaque veil uneased the dotter at a fundamental level. Annoying as it could be, transparency was a cornerstone of their culture, and for good reason. ¡°Many people were sent to the Circles since the actual raids started, but there were very few promotions in the updated Enforcer rooster. It raised questions, but now it makes more sense: they were not Enforcers who activated on the line of duty, but victims in need of more help than the dot could provide. Our healing centres are full too, but they are left alone, unlike after your last visit.¡± Officer Bor kept explaining his reasoning and proving his position had been earned, but Zax couldn¡¯t help but wonder what kind of mutation would come from a field activation. All devices broken, so they had to carry spares. The stress and physical exertion would make the 3G in their body more likely to activate, being severely wounded would make it a certitude, but would it affect the result? Did they keep packs of 3G with them just in case? Would it let them activate several times quickly? Would it affect the direction their mutations progressed? Zax didn¡¯t fancy where his inner thoughts were leading him, so he forced himself to stop. The previous night was still fresh in his mind, but he didn¡¯t want to dive back in his hobby so fast. Bor¡¯s reasoning was clear and his hints easy to check, so the programmer was looking forward to announcing his winged friend she would soon be safe stepping outside his home. Next came the officer¡¯s plan to conceal his evidence¡¯s origin. Apparently, there was a reward for his actions in the Core which Zax hadn¡¯t claimed, as it required coming in person for ceremonial purposes. He vaguely remembered reading something about that, but it was just a medal and an honorary title. Basically, a line on his personal file and his resume, that would only be relevant or useful in niche occasions. Something he didn¡¯t care enough to bother with, but not something he would reject if it was delivered to him. It was supposed to be given in an official ceremony with all enforcers available present, but there happened to be a shortage of hands in the force at the moment. Instead, it was quickly done in the office, Zax was free to cringe as much as he wanted to at the idea of perhaps hundreds of people seeing it, and an irrefutable reason for coming in the station at such a moment was established. It wouldn¡¯t help against a determined snoop, especially considering the nature of the recording, but it would delay them. The human left the station with a spring in his step and a smile on his face. On a whim, he opted to enjoy the feeling by walking home instead of using the light road. He was barely halfway through the entertainment area when an unfortunately familiar voice called him: ¡°Hey you! The nanite expert!¡± A woman with a single horn on the side of her head was trotting towards him, ruffling the least expressive standard clothes in the dot and sporting the shallowest business smile in the Shelter. Chapter 35 - Blow After Blow Bathor was at her wit¡¯s end. It had been weeks since her team had been tasked with finding the dotter responsible for the troublesome recording flooding the Circle. True to the Kogitos¡¯ predictions, tensions were slowly rising in the Circle. Nothing remarkable so far, but those who knew the signs couldn¡¯t miss them. Which meant whatever was happening behind their leaders¡¯ closed doors, a lot of pressure was falling on those poor employees, but they were still not granted any relevant intelligence or tools. Worse, they were met with blocks after blocks after dead-ends. Finding the original poster had been surprisingly easy, but pointless. The slumrat had simply found it by doing what slumrats do, felt the speech resonate in him and wanted to spread it. Bathor wasn¡¯t even sure they knew it came from a dotter, let alone how to contact the speaker. First dead-end. Their next target had been the Resident or Residents involved in the incident. Everyone had played in their contacts, and the team was made specifically to have people from all Families, but all they had ended up with was circumstantial evidences of several Residents, who might be from the Brahn or the Arya family, and had revealed a severe case of corruption. The last part didn¡¯t make sense, fees were rarely monitored and private wages were perfectly normal. Clearly a cover-up for something they should stay away from. Second dead-end. They couldn¡¯t openly ask or use official channels either. They had been tasked with looking for a dotter of all things. Involving them with the dot, their superiors were all but screaming how useless they were seen as. The stain on their reputation would never go away if it was ever known. Not to mention if they failed, which was looking less and less impossible by the day. After uncounted fumbling and setbacks, she had ended up in the dot because ¡°as an Arya, she would blend in best¡±, alone because ¡°none of the others could¡±, with a bullet points list taken from a psychological profile, written by ¡°experts¡± the Kogito girl was acquainted with, to personally search for dotters who might or might not include the one they were looking for. That plan had been brought up as a joke at first, but they were exhausting their options, and fast. With the rising pressure, a tacit temporary truce had settled in the group, making her conciliator role redundant and leaving her only as a representative of the Arya family. Which meant infiltration and spying in the field. Nevermind that she had zero training or experience in such. The others would continue the effort in the Circle while she rummaged the hovel in person. They knew such a primitive method would never work; the dot wasn¡¯t that minuscule. They only had to show their superiors how serious they were in their efforts. She agreed, and she would make an actual effort for to have something to report, but it didn¡¯t make it any less unpleasant. At least she would get away from their madness for a while. Now she had to admit, the dot wasn¡¯t at all what she imagined. Quite the opposite, it was speckless and ordered. Uncannily so, perhaps, but she wouldn¡¯t complain. As low as her mutations were, she knew for a fact they were higher than dotters¡¯, but using that status would attract attention. She would keep that as a last resort. Mixing in with the populace hadn¡¯t been hard. She had prepared a story for the customs, but no one had stopped her. Disappointing after all the stress, but she wouldn¡¯t look a gift horse in the mouth. There was more traffic both ways than she expected too. Mixing with the populace was easy too. For some unfathomable reason, they all wore the same clothes, and free unwatched dispensers were available basically everywhere. She could feel her individuality wither in agony, but she endured. The dispensers even displayed instructions on how to wear them; ludicrous but convenient. That was where the easy part had ended. Once there, she didn¡¯t know where to begin. Maps abounded, but where should she go? It had taken a few days ¨C she still went back to the Circle every night; the border¡¯s security was so lax she wasn¡¯t even afraid of being spotted anymore ¨C before inspiration struck her. She pretended to make a survey and asked random people where to find various experts in the same place ¨C a part of her list marked ¡°expert in his field¡± as ¡°definitely¡±. She didn¡¯t have the characteristic pencil and clipboard for questions, but the morons didn¡¯t notice. It had led her to some kind of social event where experts came to brag. Or something like that, she hadn¡¯t paid attention; she was too focused on looking for potential matches. She found a few, but the cooperative ones had an alibi, and she was stuck on the uncooperative ones. Some had been insulting, oh, how she wished they were in the Circle! There she could put them in their place! But the event was over now, and she couldn¡¯t exactly ask where to find them. She was back to square one. She went back to her original plan, with much less success, but her luck was finally back! She had spotted one of the uncooperative candidates walking the street. She rushed to catch his attention. She had forgotten his name, only his ridiculous expertise ¨C even in the dot, who cared about nanotechnology? ¨C and that was all she needed to make him turn around. The dotter put on his business smile to answer hers: ¡°Hello Miss. I didn¡¯t expect to see you again so soon. I don¡¯t believe I received your mail.¡± How could I send anything, dumbass? I don¡¯t have your address! ¡°Yes, hello.¡± She was still annoyed at his dismissive behaviour, but she kept her mask of professionalism. He had not been one of the rude ones, merely dismissive and in a rush. Still needed to be put in his place though. She put her hair and breathing back in order and took control of the conversation: ¡°You were in a big hurry yesterday. I had to confer with my colleagues before deciding if we should stay in contact with you.¡± Showing they could do without him. That should take him down a notch. ¡°Must¡¯ve been long and hard deliberations if you only just left it.¡± He casually noted. It wasn¡¯t the reaction she was aiming for. ¡°What?¡± The Resident stayed neutral. ¡°What makes you think that?¡± ¡°You ran and shouted when you saw me, so you must have decided to stay in touch. Vehemently. I still haven¡¯t received any mail from you, so you couldn¡¯t spare the few seconds, minutes if you don¡¯t use a premade template, to send it. Conclusion: your meeting has just ended. Weird place to have a business meeting though, but what do I know?¡± Bathor was left speechless, and that didn¡¯t happen often. She could still salvage the conversation, however. It wasn¡¯t her first rodeo: ¡°Wrong on several points, but not bad. Now, I can see you¡¯re not in a hurry anymore. Let¡¯s go and talk, alright?¡± If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. No slipping away this time! ¡°You really don¡¯t like mails, do you?¡± He had the gall to complain. ¡°I¡¯ll warn my friends and I¡¯m yours. They are waiting for me.¡± He brought his wrist up before she could answer and the mediator had to force herself to not show her surprise at the square of light that suddenly popped up in front of his face. The dotter fiddled with it using his free hand, until it disappeared and he brought his wrist to his ear: ¡°Hey, it¡¯s me¡­ I did, good news: it should be fine. We¡¯ll see in a few days, but everything will be solved one way or another, with several layers before getting to you. That should be enough buffer if something goes wrong¡­ Because I was stopped on the way back¡­ Calm down, it¡¯s unrelated. Remember the woman I talked about last night? No, the one who talked to me after my presentation¡­ yes, that one. She still wants to talk, so I wanted to warn you I would be late and still give you the news before¡­ No, I¡¯m pretty sure it was a coincidence. I didn¡¯t take the light road, just because, and she called me midway. No way to foresee that or to react that fast¡­ Fine, you can keep an eye if you want, but don¡¯t do something hasty from a misunderstanding¡­ I dunno, when someone gets hurt? No, that could trigger something. When an actual punch is thrown! That should do it¡­ Tell her if I¡¯m still not home by that point¡­ Alright, see ya.¡± He fiddled the floating screen a bit more as Bathor hid her unease behind a firm comment: ¡°We are both civilised people, I don¡¯t expect us to come to blows.¡± ¡°Neither do I, but it¡¯s better to give them something specific to look for. Gives them something to focus on so their anxiety doesn¡¯t run as wild. Anyways, I¡¯m ready. Where are we going?¡± ¡°Hm, follow me.¡± Put on the spot, the experienced mediator stalled by walking them along the main street until she found an adequate place. There was some traffic at the entrance, and a lounge was visible behind the doors. She hadn¡¯t expected it to be a game centre, but she took it in stride and took two seats in a corner. Her target sat in front of her with an inquisitive but guarded expression. Show time. Business talk truly was her element. The single-horned woman introduced herself with broad statements and weaved a tale of great opportunities and rewards if he lent them his skills. She led him on a mental path of her choosing and she would get the information she needed without anybody inferring what she was actually after. Simple and easy. At least that was the plan, and it had worked for the others, but this one proved surprisingly tricky, asking the right questions and targeting her narrative¡¯s weak points one after the other. She rose to the challenge, and she was even starting to have fun when he flipped the figurative board: ¡°Alright, let¡¯s stop here.¡± The dotter sighed and rose from his seat. ¡°I¡¯m sure now: you¡¯re not some kind of hidden master who made obvious mistakes to gauge my reactions. It was a nice story of non-answers, but that was the only good part of your¡­ whatever that performance was supposed to be.¡± The last statement was punctuated by gestures pointing to her whole person. ¡°Is this a game to you? Do you think I¡¯m joking?¡± Hiding her shock, Bathor frowned as if to an inappropriate joke. She had to up the pressure; she had no progress to report for the day. It didn¡¯t work. ¡°Look, I played along to give you the benefit of the doubt, but it¡¯s clear now you actually don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing. I don¡¯t know why you are here, what you want from me, or why you try to pass for a dotter when you¡¯re so bad at it. The one thing I¡¯m certain of is that I don¡¯t want anything to do with it. Or you.¡± ¡°You knew?¡± The words passed her mouth before she could hold them back. It was one thing to have her unprepared story seen through, but her disguise too? It was perfect! Not a single dotter had commented on it! Who was that guy? ¡°Yes, you¡¯re far from subtle. Farewell.¡± He turned and left, not caring for her reaction. ¡°Ah, wait!¡± She jumped from her seat and rushed after him. ¡°What gave me away!?¡± If she had been spotted so easily, it recontextualised all her actions and interactions so far. Nevermind the dummy mission, if she didn¡¯t fix that she would be stuck for good. She ran after him and grabbed his shoulder. He slapped her hand away and looked ready to shout, but something made him hesitate. For some reason, she didn¡¯t think it was her being a Resident. His deep frown and glare, probably. ¡°What do you want?¡± His voice betrayed no tolerance for roundabout answers and little patience for the rest. ¡°How did you know?¡± ¡°You want me to help you deceive my fellows better? No. Ask the Arya family, they are experts.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± His wordless stare forced Bathor to elaborate. ¡°I¡¯m a member, but not of that part. Just¡­ please. I¡¯ll be in trouble if I don¡¯t get anything from our conversation.¡± She couldn¡¯t explain her mission or the embarrassment it would beget if other Residents were involved. The man looked her up and down, and slumped: ¡°The saddest part is, I think you are genuinely shocked I found out.¡± He sighed. ¡°Fine. It¡¯ll be my apology for my reaction last time. I was curter than I should have been for a stranger. Come along.¡± Bathor didn¡¯t dare to say one more word, she thanked her good tree and followed him. He seemed to be heading for a park nearby, but he stopped before they reached the gateway and politely called a family out; a man, a woman, a little boy. After the typical pleasantries, he had a strange favour to ask: ¡°See my friend here? Just looking at her, what do you think?¡± The couple exchanged a glance and opened their mouth to answer, but the stopped them: ¡°Stop! You first.¡± He pointed to the child. Everyone was surprised, especially the child, but they complied: ¡°Well, er¡­ She¡¯s¡­ a pretty lady?¡± He started hesitantly, but an encouraging nod from the dotter and his parents made him continue. ¡°She looks very clean and neat too¡­ Where¡¯s her bracelet?¡± When the boy stopped, the three adults turned to her, waiting for her response: ¡°I don¡¯t like accessories.¡± She shrugged it off. ¡°They distract from my natural beauty.¡± She waved her hair to emphasis her point. ¡°Natural. Right.¡± The nanite guy snickered. ¡°Is that all, kiddo?¡± ¡°She¡¯s weird. Like, weiiiird. And creepy.¡± He crept behind his mother¡¯s leg, half leaning to keep her in his sight. Creepy!? ¡°Now there¡¯s no need to be rude, Tam.¡± His father nicely but firmly chided him. ¡°She¡¯s obviously from outside the dot. They tend to be strange, but I¡¯m sure she thinks the same for us.¡± ¡°She must have her own reasons for wearing our clothes but not our most ubiquitous basic device.¡± The mother complemented. ¡°Sorry, lady.¡± The boy looked at his feet with a contrite expression, but didn¡¯t move from behind his mother. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, it¡¯s kinda what I was aiming for. Thank you all, you¡¯ve proven my point.¡± ¡°Haha, you¡¯re a strange pair.¡± The father commented as the mother giggled. Bathor couldn¡¯t say a word as the family left and the dotter stepped in the park itself. ¡°What point did you try to prove, exactly?¡± She curtly enquired when they were alone. ¡°That even a child could see through your¡­ ¡°disguise¡±. They won¡¯t know what it means, but they will see that something isn¡¯t right, simply by paying attention for a few seconds. As demonstrated.¡± As disheartening as it was, she couldn¡¯t deny it. ¡°Now, to show you it was not a special case, we¡¯ll do it again. Parks have no shortage of children at this hour. You can reach your own conclusions after that.¡± Indeed, they met many groups with children, of all ages and backgrounds. They all noticed something wrong with her. Usually the lack of bracelets. Some commented how weird her clothes felt even if they couldn¡¯t put the finger on why. The dotter explained it was too perfect, down to the slightest details. No dotter bothered so much with it. She didn¡¯t appear convinced enough for his taste, so they went to other social gathering points. Entertainment centres, sports centres, school clubs¡­ One demonstration after the other, one ruthless blow to her morale after the other, her spirit was crushed. It was the most humiliating experience the single-horned woman had ever lived, and there was no end in sight. She didn¡¯t wait for him to be done. She couldn¡¯t. She absconded. She raced back to the Circle, to her home, to her bedroom, not knowing how she managed to hold her tears back until she arrived. Chapter 36 - Freedom Rude. Zax frowned disapprovingly at the Resident¡¯s back. She had been more and more silent as the evening went on, but turning around and briskly walking away without parting words seemed out of character. ¡°Nevermind. Sorry for the intrusion. Keep going, and don¡¯t forget: you hit the ball with the inside of the foot, not the tip.¡± Zax bid farewell to the team of sporty teens he had hailed, sent a message to warn his roommates of his imminent arrival and went on his way. His high spirits were spent, so he went straight to the light road this time. He arrived a few steps behind Aran. The foxy girl hadn¡¯t spotted him, but he failed to get a reaction when he tried to jump-scare her. She was surprised to see him out though, SG hadn¡¯t told her about his encounter. Zax didn¡¯t explain, letting the winged girl be the first one to deliver her news. Said girl greeted them with her usual restrain, but didn¡¯t hide how relieved she felt at their safe arrival. It prompted a series of explanations; the last part of which Aran wasn¡¯t sure how to react to: ¡°Sounds like you had fun.¡± She commented with an uncertain voice. ¡°Fun? No. It was annoying, it as tedious, and it took way too long. Delayed all my swarm assimilation schedule.¡± Zax complained. ¡°I couldn¡¯t read her face at all and I still don¡¯t know who she was or what she wanted. All I learnt is that she is good at deflecting questions, she¡¯s being sent here by people she reports to, and she will be in trouble if she wastes her time, but she doesn¡¯t need to used it for anything specific. Which makes me think she will be back. Or she might be replaced? And after today, the next one will not be as obvious. I hope so at least, or it really was a waste of time, for everyone involved.¡± The girls exchanged a glance and shared a thought, but decided against voicing it. ¡°At least I could trick her into allowing me to be informed of her location.¡± He added after a sigh. ¡°I¡¯m not sure she understood it, but now I have the legal right to know where she is, anytime and anywhere. Just in case.¡± ¡°Would that work without bracelet?¡± Aran quizzed. ¡°I won¡¯t be able to live-track her every move, but I¡¯ll at least be notified when she passes the border.¡± He displayed the one he had received during their briefing. He¡¯ll have to check more precisely what this authorisation allowed him, but later. Right now, he wanted to put her out of his mind, and Aran set the perfect segue up: ¡°I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t negotiate your help against a scan of her body.¡± ¡°You know how hard it is to convince a dotter; how do you think a Resident would react? I didn¡¯t think she was that desperate.¡± He shook his head. ¡°And if she was and I exploited it¡­ I feel better about myself since our talk, but I did see the slippery slope I was leaning towards. I¡¯d rather play it safe still.¡± ¡°I see.¡± They didn¡¯t expect that, but Zax didn¡¯t let the reminder of the previous night make it awkward. ¡°Plus, she lied to me from the start. I don¡¯t want her to know my address, and I don¡¯t want to spend the night with her in the Circle, where I¡¯m not even sure the nanites would last long enough to get in her body. Speaking of, what should we do with yours?¡± The question caught the girls off guard, but he developed his thought: ¡°The priority would be how to handle the ones in SG¡¯s brain. The recording is done and delivered; they have no use anymore. Or they shouldn¡¯t, but let¡¯s maybe wait a few days to be sure they won¡¯t need another one. We can also decide what to do with both of your scanning ones. I kept pushing that talk back, but I can¡¯t pretend they are required anymore. If the problem came from your grafts, the data I have should be enough for a complete model, once I have the updated algorithms.¡± ¡°Oh, by the way, how¡¯s that going?¡± ¡°As well as expected,¡± He nodded. ¡°Two people with different answers accepted my commission, I should have something back soon.¡± ¡°I see. Well, about the nanites, I¡¯d like to keep mine. I slacked off recently, but it¡¯s fun to see my stats grow when I keep pushing myself. And I¡¯m close to something about WIL, I think I¡¯m almost done.¡± Aran answered casually. ¡°Hm? Ah, right, your custom stat. I forgot about that. You haven¡¯t taken a lesson in a while.¡± ¡°I know what to look for and where on my own now!¡± The not-so-novice-anymore programmer beamed with pride. ¡°Congrats.¡± Zax humoured her with a smile and a thumbs up. ¡°Don¡¯t forget there are several ways to get the same result. And you?¡± He turned to SG. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t care?¡± The winged girl shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t feel them, and they don¡¯t do anything.¡± ¡°Most people would still be creeped out by having millions tiny foreign bodies in their own. Especially in their brains, where they can record everything.¡± Aran flatly stated with a raised eyebrow. ¡°¡­ Maybe remove the brain ones.¡± SG slumped and conceded. Her eyes couldn¡¯t meet Zax¡¯s. ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡± He nodded. ¡°Right now?¡± ¡°I can wait. I¡¯d rather not have to get them back again.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°Alright, enough serious talk. Let¡¯s play now!¡± Aran being Aran, Zax and SG chuckled. Things were back to normal. Maybe too normal, actually, as both Zax and SG were more and more restless as days passed. SG had run out of relevant news to peruse, and she was at a loss about what to do with her new free time. Online games were fun, but she became fidgety if she spent too long sitting. VR games would solve that issue, but they weren¡¯t designed for wings. Zax could customise a few games, but his apartment didn¡¯t have sufficient room to play them anyways. She hadn¡¯t made her mind up on how to wear her bracelet yet, but she was still actively thinking about it. Zax often caught her staring at its sleeping form, her gaze unfathomable. It will affect her whole life, after all. Zax couldn¡¯t help her on that matter. He could only hope daily life and interactions outside his home would help, once she could leave. All of Zax¡¯s projects were as far along as they could be, requiring either outside intervention or time. The recording of the Core¡¯s sentence was fully examined and being peer reviewed by fellow hobbyists on the forums. The relation between the glowing veins and acupuncture¡¯s meridians had led to interesting hindsight, but wouldn¡¯t progress without practical experiments he couldn¡¯t do. Observing was one thing, but he wouldn¡¯t risk affecting someone¡¯s activation or mutation. Even less so when he couldn¡¯t surmise what it would do, if anything at all. He had been surprised at how uncharted that venue of study was, but acupuncture was nearly as disused as surgery; merely less hidden from common people¡¯s eyes, for obvious reasons. It was only studied as a hobby and practiced on rich dotters who as a fancy technique. Aran had joked that he was probably the only one with deeper knowledge of both. His theoretical study of surgery was slowly but steadily advancing; it only took time. He was not grossed out by the pictures and descriptions anymore, and like acupuncture, it gave unexpected perspectives on the interactions between different parts of the body. Who would have thought breaking the ribcage could help fix a twisted spine? Well, eons before, someone had, and it could explain some obscure but common sequences of mutations, when minor alterations prepared for a major one. Some were obvious, but others were baffling. Kad¡¯s lateral bone growth, in preparation for a second pair of complete arms, were not even among the most outlandish ones. The commissioned algorithms were still in progress and would arrive anytime. The swarm integration was complete in his brain and body, and it had barely made a dent in his stock. His previous programs were in the process of being rewritten for them; automatization had made it a breeze once he had worked out the kinks of translation. With nothing better to do with it, he had started on his project with the lowest priority: making detailed organisms with nanites. The natural extreme of his teacher¡¯s living sculptures, he would give them actual organs, as accurately as he could. He might even make life-sized micro-organisms once he was skilled enough, but it was more a vanity project than anything. He wasn¡¯t quite sure they were minuscule enough. Remarkably, there had not been any loss from disruptive fields yet. It went against expectations; smaller and more complex devices should be more sensitive and vulnerable, but he wouldn¡¯t complain. He had no way to restock. His reserve could only dwindle, any loss was definitive, and he wouldn¡¯t let himself forget it. As a precaution, he stored dormant aggregates in several places in his body. With their low volume, there were more options than for his normal nanites, so his usual stock was left untouched. Finally, Officer Bor contacted him, and what was more, it was with good news! The recording had been accepted as a valid testimony from an anonymous witness given by a secret source of his. Unconventional, but no follow-up questions would be asked. He couldn¡¯t share details with Zax, obviously. They wouldn¡¯t know if the testimony would have consequences or to whom, but someone else was paid to take care of that. What truly mattered was the Enforcers officially stating that the recorder had done nothing wrong and had no repercussions to fear for their past or their testimony. The wording was all fancy official sounding, but the conclusion was unmistakable: SG was safe and free! It was great news. The best possible news, even. Why was she not feeling better? When Zax had announced it, she had cheered with everyone. Hugs had been exchanged and rejoicing ensued. One minute later, the reality of the situation had fully sunk in, and there she was, crouched on the couch, her talons dangerously poking at its canvas, ¡®palms¡¯ on her knees, taut as a sinew. Cautious probing from her friends produced a single whisper: ¡°What do I do now?¡± Excellent question. The dotters thought as one. They had been so focused on ensuring her freedom and safety they hadn¡¯t considered what to do with it. She knew how to use her bracelet to find her way, but she didn¡¯t know where to go, and letting her wander the dot alone was just asking for trouble. Her social anxiety was only a hurdle among others. After some time discussing ideas and shooting them down, one came through that could work for everyone: ¡°You could come to work with me?¡± Zax proposed. ¡°I stopped going to unwind after a stressful event, but I had only planned for one week, maybe two before going back. We¡¯re past that now, and I¡¯m getting restless too, so I thought about going back. We can go together. I regularly hire temporary workers, the ¡®how¡¯ won¡¯t be an issue and I¡¯ll definitely have things for you to do. Standard pay and training, although you¡¯re not exactly short on credits right now, so I don¡¯t expect much overtime.¡± He glanced at the storage space below the couch, where her briefcase was hidden away. When they had realised what it contained, nobody had known what to do with it. For most, it was a sure way to improve their life ¨C heck, they wouldn¡¯t even have to mutate, it was enough to rent a place in the Circle for a while. More than enough to find a job and properly earn their mutation, probably ¨C but everyone present had their own reasons not to. Zax knew for a fact it would be wasted on him, Aran had promised to not leave him alone again, and not-yet-SG had been too lost for such considerations. Besides, she hadn¡¯t been ready to share her past yet, so the dotters had only been aware that whatever strings came attached to those units, they were ominous and dangerous. Zax had wordlessly put everything back in the baggage and put it out of sight and out of mind. Nobody had mentioned it since, with a tacit understanding nobody would touch it. Now they knew of its origin, and while it was technically stolen property, the owner was dead and the Enforcers hadn¡¯t reclaimed it. ¡°Getting out, meeting people with face-to-face but minimal interactions, participating in the dot¡¯s daily life, all with Zax around to ease things out.¡± Aran listed. ¡°Many birds in one stone. That could work.¡± She nodded. ¡°And once she¡¯s autonomous enough, she can either stay in the shop when I¡¯m away on field orders to extend working hours, or come with me to see parts of the dot she wouldn¡¯t normally go to.¡± Zax added. ¡°It¡¯s the usual progression for temps.¡± Nobody brought up the elephant in the room, of how her wings would interfere with her performance. Even if they did, the point was to give her something to do and a reason to leave the apartment. SG was nervous, but exited at the same time. She agreed. ¡°Great! We¡¯ll start tomorrow. Be sure to wake up on time. You don¡¯t have to call me boss, but that would be appreciated.¡± Zax clapped his hands and smiled pleasantly. The two mutants couldn¡¯t tell if he was joking or not. Chapter 37 - First Taste Once Zax had removed SG¡¯s brain nanites ¨C which she had somehow forgotten about ¨C they had gone to bed early. Well, early for her; Zax had kept the changes in his circadian cycle at a minimum. Experience had shown him breaks felt more productive that way. Their roommate usually had her rhythm guided by them living their life. Waking up was difficult; she hadn¡¯t slept much, but she didn¡¯t complain. She spent time hesitating about her garb however; after a lifetime of either minimal underwear or nothing at all, the task felt disproportionately important and difficult to her. She had quickly lost the habit of nudity, and Zax had fashioned several fitted outfits for her over the days. On the other hand, his job as a clothing adjustor had failed to develop his fashion sense; he could only adapt pre-existing pieces to new body types and it was rarely much. He could follow templates too, but that was only because of the requirement to be officially recognised. It had been the first time he¡¯d done it since the certification test. The tricky part had been to adjust the regalia in something she could easily put on and off without hands. There had been many failures, but Zax had found the challenge stimulating. The final design ended up surprisingly simple, with the top¡¯s sleeves shortened if not outright removed, and both sides cut open where the seam normally was, with magnets hidden to keep it closed. Once it was found, it had merely been a matter of applying it to her wardrobe as it was building up. She slid in like a poncho. It looked normal; the well-thought design understated but obvious to any who knew where to look. It wouldn¡¯t do much for physical protection, but when was that a concern? ¡°This is so you.¡± Aran had smiled and laconically claimed when they had showed it off to her. She refused to develop when he probed. The magnets would get erratic if a disruptive field happened, which would force the seam open, but she didn¡¯t risk losing her top on accident. It would be back to normal once the field had passed; magnets were disturbed but not destroyed. About pants, her talons¡¯ size and shape wouldn¡¯t allow it. They would need large legs or a stretchier fabric Zax didn¡¯t have. The magnet trick would work too, but they both felt it would be pointless, especially considering the easy and common alternatives available: shorts and skirts. She needed help with shorts, hardly fitting the whole talon through the collapsed leg, so her limited wardrobe had few of those. The dot controlled its atmosphere to make temperature a non-issue for daily life, so she wouldn¡¯t be cold. Footwear was out of question, ludicrous and pointless. Zax had still drawn a few designs, as a joke. It was simply too farcical not to. As amusing as the challenge had been, it had also inspired him for his actual hobby. It had never occurred to him, but the mere fact of wearing clothes every day might seriously limit available mutation options. No need to think about it¡­ no, because one never thought about it; any option requiring help to get dressed would have to remove the need for dressing altogether. A throb of sorrow stirred him when he envisioned what this mutant¡¯s life must have been. This breakthrough wasn¡¯t something he could use, but the forums would eventually sprout something. It might apply to more than clothes too, but that was neither here nor there. When Zax reminded her of the hour, she finally settled for a loose shirt, with short wavy-edged sleeves that let her wings free without showing them off, and a fringe-edged mid-thigh skirt. Her bracelet was stored in a shoulder bag across her torso. ¡°It gives you an air of restrained freedom. Like you could fly off anytime, but you¡¯re not because you don¡¯t want to.¡± had been Aran¡¯s final assessment. Fortunately, she had the presence of mind to wait for her to be done before commenting. The male and the former gladiator didn¡¯t see it and didn¡¯t understand what it meant, so they wordlessly accepted her judgement and they all left. Aran went first, SG on her heels, but for some reason she stopped at the threshold. Her breath quickened and her shoulders shivered. Ah, right. First steps. It¡¯s an important moment. She braced herself, took a deep breath and jumped in the aperture like it was about to collapse. Her head swivelled right and left, but the hallway was plain and empty as ever, with only Aran waiting at the entrance. Her pent-up breath flew off her lips. ¡°Not much to see, but don¡¯t worry. The next door has an actual outside.¡± Zax reminded her as he locked the door behind him. The ebbing tension flowed back in her, but nobody commented. Aran opened the way again, but this time SG stopped moving before getting close, her mouth agape at what the threshold showed her People. Lots of people milling around, going their way without paying attention to her. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. By all accounts, so many strangers at once should have made her more nervous, but nobody reacted to her presence. Life went on, with or without her. No judgement, no need to be who she didn¡¯t want to be. The snippet of life, a life so unlike anything she experienced, helped to ease her heart. Curiosity overcame anxiety, making her step out without remarking. Her appearance turned more than a few eyes, but no one approached or did anything obvious. As expected. Dotters would think she had recently reached her current mutation level and would leave for the Circle soon. Her clothes probably helped too. Regardless, there shouldn¡¯t be more than random congratulations from strangers. She could handle that much. Time would tell how repeated appearances would change that, but Zax choose to let it be a problem for future-Zax. Present-him and she still had a place to be: ¡°Most are going to their job, like us. The rest is living their life. Hold on, let¡¯s make sure we don¡¯t get separated.¡± He stepped at her side and reached with his hand. She put her wrist in his palm from below and folded her wing to lean it toward herself. He grasped what was offered and led her to the light road station. As they fell in step behind Aran, he couldn¡¯t help but reminisce the time before he left his guardians, when he helped taking care of the younger charges. He felt like during their strolls, when the children wore fin- or paw-mittens for fun. SG¡¯s eyes were even fluttering around with the same mix of curiosity, nervosity, and excitement, trying to see everything at once. Without realising, he slowed his pace to let her draw in the sights, and reflexively firmed his hold lest she dart off without thinking. The station wasn¡¯t far, but she needed special arrangements to use the rail road. Without the common footwear, magnetic levitation was impossible. There was a backup option, made for people to carry heavy or voluminous charges. Sheets with handles, a sliding face and an adhesive face were available at every station, near the maps. They were made to be pulled or pushed along the road without affecting whatever was on them. Many options were available, different sizes and some with sides like a basin. ¡°For children?¡± SG¡¯s eyebrows rose at the explanation. ¡°They can have a hard time staying balanced and focused long enough to stay up. It¡¯s not that hard, but it¡¯s a skill. There¡¯s a learning curve.¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°They are to sit and stay sat. We can get you at a level where you can stay up later if you want, but for now please get down. I¡¯ll start slow but I don¡¯t want to risk you. It¡¯ll let you look around too.¡± She agreed without problem, too excited by the novelty to care about the association between her and children. She crouched on the slide; her talons making it as stable as a cross-legged position. It was a sturdy material, but she still attempted not to damage it with her claws. A pair of reciprocated nods to Aran and they were on the way. SG kept looking around like a tourist, easily keeping her balance with the pace Zax set. She was tempted to stand and turn around, but the others on the road were far from leisurely so she held back. ¡°Won¡¯t we be late?¡± She inquired after some time. They were faster than at the beginning, but not by much. ¡°Ah, right, your shop, your hours.¡± ¡°My shop or not, I put an official notice that normal business would be open, at the normal hours, with a new inexperienced employee. If I don¡¯t respect that, it¡¯ll be a dark spot on my record and I¡¯ll be penalised. But we won¡¯t be late, I planned extra early on purpose. Too bad for Aran, but she took it stride.¡± ¡°Great, but would it be that bad? You¡¯re the best of the dot, aren¡¯t you? What kind of penalty would that get you?¡± ¡°My main strength is my versatility. That means everything I can do, there are others who can do it, possibly better too; but they are more expensive and can¡¯t solve as many problems as I. That¡¯s how I got where I am now.¡± ¡°I thought it was your nanites?¡± ¡°That¡¯s how I am so versatile, but it¡¯s not exactly a selling argument. Most customers don¡¯t care how I fix things, just that they can use their stuffs afterwards. It¡¯s a double-edge sword. Word of mouth is not very effective, most potential customers are routed to me in answer to a specific query in the network.¡± He shook his wrist to jiggle his bracelet. ¡°If I start cumulating bad points, they will be routed to someone with a better score, even if they may be of lower quality, less cost-effective or more expensive. And at my general level, we all have good records, so a single bad point can make a huge difference. So, while being the best does give me some ¡®goodwill¡¯, so to speak, if I can avoid using it up by waking up earlier, I will.¡± ¡°I see the idea, but¡­ doesn¡¯t seem very fair. What if you have an accident? Or fall ill?¡± His passenger had no idea running a business had such aspects. ¡°You don¡¯t get bad points for things you¡¯re not responsible for and had no way of anticipating. We can ask for and defend an appeal too, if we think we were judged worse than we deserve. The system¡¯s pretty flexible and adaptative. Like, I should have used a lot of my ¡®stored goodwill¡¯ with my long unannounced break, but the Main Computer won¡¯t penalise me because of the reason for said break.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t change the fact everyone who would have been sent my way at that moment was diverted and may not come to me in the future, and I may have lost regulars. Not that I had a lot of those; to be fair. But that will always be true no matter the system.¡± Hearing no reaction, he finished the thought as they arrived at their station. ¡°There are other ways to attract business too. Like ads or customer reviews. But I still need to open on time or it¡¯ll turn against me. If there¡¯s one thing people like less than waiting in front of a closed door, it¡¯s waiting longer than they expected.¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a lot more complicated than I thought.¡± The winged girl stated as she stood at Zax¡¯s prompting. She was still looking around, but it was more subdued. They had passed through the flamboyant entertainment area, so the more monotonous vista of the supply and services area felt almost bland. Her reactions made the corner of Zax¡¯s mouth rise a hint. Wait ¡®til you see the processing area. They held hands again to leave the station, but the flow of people quickly abated and they let go. His first words came back to her and prompted another question: ¡°Why did you mention that you had a new employee who knows nothing? In your notice? Doesn¡¯t sound good for business.¡± ¡°To increase the likelihood of training-worthy, beginner-friendly orders. One night ahead was short, but since others had to pick the slack from my absence, there might be a backlog of unfulfilled orders. The notice helped prioritize the more fitting ones. Ah, wait, we arrived.¡± The human called her as she kept walking after he stopped. Holding hands had been a wise decision. Zax used his bracelet to unlock his shop¡¯s door. He went in, turned around and opened his arms and his face, welcoming SG to her first taste of an ordinary life. Chapter 38 - New Experiences ¡°Eww! Gross!¡± SG shouted, trying to spit the nastiness out. After a quick tour of the place and an explanation of what she was seeing, it was time for them to unpack and clean his traditional machines up. The ones others would use to do his common jobs, that had been compacted and put in a shelf once he was officially certified to do said jobs, and that he only kept to retain said certifications. Using nanites was more convenient and cost-effective to him, but his employees needed more traditional skills if the professional experience was to be relevant to their future. His employee had been confused. She was aware of how valuable any surface area was in the dot; she couldn¡¯t fathom why he would let unused machines waste his shop¡¯s. She had accepted the explanation more easily than his past employees though; she understood what nanites meant to him. She still hadn¡¯t expected the literal shower of dust falling on her face when they pulled the topmost off the pile. Some even got in her eyes and mouth! ¡°Ah, sorry, I forgot.¡± Like all constructions in the dot, every room of the shop was airtight; dust couldn¡¯t get in or out. His front room had been as spotless as he had left it weeks earlier, but the back rooms had some cumulation from the plants he kept in, and his shelves even more from disuse. Zax planned to teach her one task at a time, starting with the more immediately relevant and within reach. The obvious starting point was manning the counter; managing inventory, scheduling new orders, customer service. The basics were easy and straightforward; they were quickly done with that. There was nothing more to teach without actual customers. He didn¡¯t plan on letting her idle though. < activating teaching mods > [ Teaching mods: On ] What was it again¡­ Ah. < Teaching basics of professional adjusting too > [ Skillset(s): Shop Management | Clothing Adjustment ] Current Skills: none (estimated, to be evaluated) General proficiency: 0 (estimated, to be evaluated) ] [ Teaching schedule: (Template 1) (Template 2) (New Template) ] [ Evaluation(s): All required ] For a more hands-on skillset, clothing adjustment seemed an appropriate choice. He knew how to train such skills, naturally, but nanites made tracking improvements so convenient, and he hadn¡¯t used them much despite his recently completed integration of a better hardware. As luck would have it, the notice had been effective. The next school cycle had started and there was a huge demand in schools and sports uniforms made from adjusted standard outfits. All the educations points were centralised, but they liked their distinctions. It meant a large demand that would be handled bit by bit by all the available adjusters of the dot. Repetition being mother of learning, and with a wide array of complexity in the designs, it was a great training opportunity at any level; doing the same alterations over and over. She would even have a physical example of the final goal, quite rare in that job. Zax selected the right orders to ensure all the basics would be covered, and the plan was set. That was how her morning was spent; training on clothing alterations. The machines took some getting used to, but their controls were intuitive enough. There had been tacit worries about SG¡¯s lack of opposable thumbs, but she managed with a dextrous use of her talons and vocal commands through her bracelet. They only had to put the machine lower. Zax had seen the hints, but she proved to be a remarkably quick learner. What she lacked in common sense or common knowledge was easily fixed, and she compensated with adaptability and curiosity. Adjuster skills had been an excellent choice, before the end of her shift she was already imagining her own designs. She was fixing a tincture mistake when the first customer arrived. She greeted him with the classical ¡°Welcome, how may I help you?¡± formula and a polite, albeit nervous smile. He already had a specific purchase in mind, so he politely declined and was quickly at the counter with his articles. [ Warning! ] The surprise pop-up from her nanites startled Zax. His scanning nanites were only supposed to record biological functions, but he had added a few twists to their programs to be useful in case of emergency. His first-aid instructors had hammered in the ¡°too much is never enough¡± lesson pretty hard. He mentally accessed the readings of SG¡¯s nanites and didn¡¯t understand what they were showing. He had kept to the side of the counter, ready to help if needed, but he didn¡¯t expect that. She only had to scan the items and put them in a bag. They had checked, she could do it without issue. [ Warning! ] The customer had been polite and aloof, not even blinking at her appearance. The ideal client for a socially awkward clerk. [ Warning! ] She was uncertain and she kept glancing back at him for reassurance, but she knew what had to be done and she moved in that direction. [ Warning! ] Some nervosity, but no outside sign of distress. [ Warning! ] Why were her vitals all over the place!? [ Warning! ] [ Warning! ] ¡°Thank you for your purchase, please come back.¡± Her readings kept worsening, so Zax intervened. He didn¡¯t know what he had prevented, but it couldn¡¯t be good. As soon as he spoke, the pop-ups slowed and stopped. What a relief. When the door closed behind the customer, Zax turned to inquire only to find SG on the ground, panting and sweating, her superhuman legs unable to hold her weight. ¡°Oi! What¡¯s wrong!? What just happened here!?¡± He rushed to support her. He truly hated feeling so out of his depth. It turned out SG was excellent at hiding her true feelings, and actually talking face-to-face with a stranger was more of an obstruction than it had any right to be. It was viable through text or a game avatar, but in person¡­ she felt like a rabbit in a wolf den. A sharp rabbit who had been trained to lash out at everything. Even if she knew it was wrong, she was safe, her experiences kept pointing in a certain, violent direction. She had fought it off this time, but her stress level had risen fast enough to be concerning. Zax gave her time to compose herself afterwards. He understood where her reaction came from, but it would have to stop. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Technically, it was possible to have a fulfilled life without human contact in the dot, through screens and remote orders. Some did, shying away from people for a variety of reasons, although it was only allowed if they were proven mentally sound. The winged girl had already proven to not have such ambitions. In addition, in was only possible in the dot. Zax would be very surprised if SG wasn¡¯t invited to the Circle once she had developed more mundane skills and stabilized her life. He didn¡¯t know the exact requirements, but with her advanced mutations it shouldn¡¯t be a lot. It would open the door to more suiting accommodations and avian peers she could more easily relate with. They would have to discuss social training with Aran. Zax had a few propositions, but for now, he would handle that aspect of the job. Midday announced the end of SG¡¯s first shift and it was time for a review: ¡°So! What do you think of the job so far?¡± he asked as they sat with a warm drink. ¡°Err, that was¡­ interesting. Lots of new experiences. Not what I imagined.¡± She shuffled her wrists together awkwardly, but she knew she could be candid with him. ¡°Stressful. A bit¡­ long I guess?¡± ¡°To be fair, orders like that are a rarity, and unpopular for a reason. I took it for your training, but you seem to have understood the basics already. You¡¯d be surprised how many people don¡¯t see the common sense of it all.¡± She timidly beamed at the praise, hiding her smile behind her cup. It was reassuring, she had been gloomy since her reaction to the customer. ¡°Let¡¯s talk about the future now.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°It¡¯s my standard protocol for new employees.¡± He nodded reassuringly before taking a sip. ¡°Most people don¡¯t need or want a skillset as broad as mine, so I usually don¡¯t teach more than what they came to practice for. Once they are good with that, I let them handle that part of the shop. It frees me to work on the rest.¡± ¡°Like what you were doing today?¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± He nodded. ¡°Customizing a game controller for mutated fingers doesn¡¯t use the same skills or tools as clothes, so there was no point in mentioning it. Same with the rest. In your case, you didn¡¯t come with specific skills in mind, so I started with one with a low entry bar. Careful though, those are also the hardest to fully master. Now, we have more options. Did you like to work on clothes?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Immediate answer. ¡°Enough to make it your job? To spend most of your time doing it, every day for years after years?¡± ¡°Er¡­¡± non-immediate answer, as expected. ¡°Yes, too early to tell.¡± He nodded again. ¡°But would you like to learn more about that discipline, or another similar one, or to try something totally unrelated?¡± ¡°Er, like what?¡± ¡°Here¡¯s a list of the skillsets I can teach and what careers they can be used for. I already sent the link to your bracelet.¡± Zax projected it from his own. ¡°It¡¯ll lead you to tabs with the pros and cons of each, including salaries, current and estimated future needs, and possible developments.¡± ¡°Uh?¡± ¡°What career paths the skills offer besides ¡®do it more and better¡¯, parallel skills they could help you pick up, and skills that would help you pick them up.¡± Zax elaborated. ¡°I advise you to use ¡®clothing adjuster¡¯ as a reference, it¡¯ll let you see what I planned and it¡¯ll help you understand how the list handles the other fields.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a lot.¡± ¡°It is.¡± The handyman chuckled. He had worked hard. ¡°I¡¯m showing you the whole list so you can plan far ahead. Take your time, it¡¯ll be a while before we get there. You can also try different things and change your mind later. For now, let¡¯s just plan for the near future, alright?¡± After her relieved nod: ¡°First off, do you want to keep working here?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°You¡¯re asking me?¡± ¡°No, but¡­ why are you asking that?¡± ¡°Covering all the bases, and making sure you understand I¡¯m not your only option, even if you don¡¯t want to consider others.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Just in case. So working for me is fine. Do you want to stay focused on clothes, or would you be interested in trying other things? Games, maybe?¡± After a rapid series of straightforward questions and less-and-less hesitant answers, they determined to have SG focus on everything he could do with to clothing. He would work on other tasks, and if something caught her fancy, she would watch him and he would explain if he could. Additionally, she would accompany him for his field orders. At least some of them, and at least at first, if only to see what the higher levels of his job entailed. His field orders were the high-paying ones, requiring a higher level of expertise; he couldn¡¯t justify a paid novice coming along. She would have to come for free as an observer. It wouldn¡¯t be that formative, but she would see enough to make her mind, and she wouldn¡¯t have to talk to anyone. As it happened, he only had one field order. One night wasn¡¯t enough to fill this queue. The timing was surprising though; it had been posted shortly after the beginning of his impromptu pause. It should have been directed to someone else, especially after so long. Even he hadn¡¯t known when he would re-open, so the not-in-a hurry option didn¡¯t apply. There was no detail about what they wanted either, only the name of the customer: Pen. Typical dotter name. It happened at times, people who wanted to explain everything personally for some reason or another. Sometimes relevant reasons, even, but it still meant he couldn¡¯t prepare anything in advance, which he didn¡¯t appreciate. He could already tell how aggravating the situation will be to deal with. Not the best aspect to entice a newcomer, but she would have to see it eventually. Zax showed SG the closing routine, also testing what she had assimilated already; supply and merchandise inventory, next day scheduling, cleaning. A step on the light road ¨C still starry-eyed for someone ¨C and they were close to their destination. It was an ordinary housing unit in the residential area. Similar to their own home, it was in the area lining the border of the dot, but the difference was unmistakable and confused the newcomer. ¡°It¡¯s so¡­ plain.¡± ¡°We live in a familial area, with home units for families with children. We are the exception. The walls are brightly coloured on purpose, and inhabitants are encouraged to let children express their creativity.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why the finger drawings on the walls?¡± SG¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Exactly.¡± Zax nodded. ¡°Pretty sure ours has more than most though. Our neighbour¡¯s child is something else. Anyway, the idea is to be more homely and to help awakening young minds. Something like that. This here is a single unit area.¡± He motioned around them. ¡°For adults living on their own. The main computer won¡¯t bother having the walls coloured, but nothing prevents anyone from customising their personal areas. Most simply keep it inside. Some add something to their doors, but that¡¯s it. That¡¯s usually it., but it seems we have a winner.¡± Indeed, the door they stopped at was artistically decorated, with a pattern covering every square centimetre, continuing on the frame and the surrounding wall. A striking sight, sadly invisible from the road. ¡°What¡­ is it?¡± SG backed off a few steps and queried. ¡°Just graffiti. Wall paint. It can last incredibly long with the right maintenance, but it¡¯s harmless.¡± ¡°No, I mean, what is the drawing of?¡± ¡°Hm? Uh. Interesting. I don¡¯t know.¡± From up close, it was a blueprint for a complex circuit board, with resistances, capacitors, LED, generators, and so on, placed along wavy lines for reason apparently more artistic than scientific. Stepping back a step, the components were too small to be distinguished and the whole reminded him of a game¡¯s map, with mounts and rivers. Back another step and the general shape was familiar, but Zax couldn¡¯t put his finger on it. Maybe roots, or a haphazardly mutated octopus seen from above? < Query: memory/likeness/visual pattern (current focus) > [ Results: (3) Display? ] < Yes. Sort by matching rate > ¡°It¡¯s¡­ mushrooms? Some kind of fungal or bacterial growth, spreading somewhere.¡± The handyman elaborated at her curious expression: ¡°My nanites see 85% match in appearance.¡± ¡°Er¡­ why¡¯s that on the door?¡± ¡°An electronic engineer who studies mycology as a hobby and paints for fun? Or any mix of the three.¡± He shrugged. ¡°You can ask them if you want.¡± He pressed on the doorbell. The painting didn¡¯t hide the button at all; it harmoniously blended around it. After such a display, Zax forgot all his expectations. It might even be a pleasant encounter, he pondered as the door slid open. ¡°Hey guys. What are you doing here?¡± The familiar voice of a certain foxy tailed gamer girl greeted them through a crooked smile. She hadn¡¯t expected them either. ¡°Enjoying your new freedom?¡± Blinking his surprise away, the visitor introduced himself: ¡°Hello. I¡¯m Zax, the handyman. I have an appointment at this address with a mister or missus Pen, to discuss a potential job.¡± Zax professionally intoned the rehearsed formulae. He nodded towards SG, to the side behind him. ¡°I also brought my apprentice with me. She¡¯s only starting, so she¡¯ll just observe to have an idea of what to expect from that job.¡± Quick on the uptake, Aran went with the flow. She glanced somewhere inside and nodded back at them: ¡°Come in, and call her Miss Pen.¡± Pen. Miss Pen. The Miss Pen his roommate talked so much about, where her job sent her more and more often lately. Zax felt foolish. Somehow, the name hadn¡¯t clued him in. Stepping directly in the living room, he had his first glance at Miss Pen, seated in front of a paused video game and watching him back. Aran had described her as overly active for an old woman, and she often wondered why she bothered with a home helper. She certainly looked the part of the elder. Her long and fluffy fur was bleached by time, but shining with health and energy. From what Aran had said about the amount of fallen hair she had to clean at every visit, she should have been bald, but her coat was as thick and sturdy as could be. It was also impeccable. Zax didn¡¯t want to think about how long grooming took her. Her eyes belied a sharp mind, along with a playful gleam rarely seen among adults. ¡°Finally. I was waiting for you.¡± Chapter 39 - Agent ¡°Come.¡± The old woman sprang from her seat and nodded to the side door. ¡°We¡¯ll discuss in private. Sorry for your apprentice, but that¡¯s for your ears only.¡± Unusual greeting, but Zax took it in stride. It wasn¡¯t his first rodeo. ¡°The client is king.¡± Zax apologetically shrugged at SG, who merely nodded her acceptance. He interrupted his observation of the simple but cozy interior and followed in her bedroom. A pity, the pictures craved on metal sheets were interesting. ¡°You girls can keep on playing if you want. Help yourselves to the drinks too.¡± Were Miss Pen¡¯s last words before the bedroom¡¯s door closed. That was when the red flags began. First, she locked the door. Second, she activated a white noise generator set in the walls. It was a common privacy feature¡­ for parents who didn¡¯t want their progeny to hear everything happening in their bedroom. Most family units had one, although Zax had never bothered. Why would an old woman living alone have one? Third, she activated the pixel nanites coating the walls, like his home¡¯s. He had used it to display all the outfits he designed for SG at once, it made any free surface into giant screens. He had built and installed his own, so he was perfectly aware it wasn¡¯t a product or service proposed anywhere, by anyone. He definitely hadn¡¯t installed this one, where did it come from? All those flags showed this elder lady was more than met the eye and this meeting wouldn¡¯t be what he expected, but they merely made him cautious and curious. People were allowed their eccentricities. The fourth flag was terrifying. ¡°Congratulations for reaching this far.¡± As the familiar voice sounded from the while noise generator which shouldn¡¯t be possible, something was being drawn on the wall. A single loop outlining an empty face, continuing in a shoulder and an arm, hinting at a torso and looping into what had to be a hand. A second line made another loop-hand, an arm, hinted at the rest of the torso, and continued as the opposite leg. A small third line revealed a second foot and part of the second leg, the rest of it as implicit but unmistakable as the torso. Three thinner lines in the head-loop made two eyes and a mouth. Minimalistic but easily identifiable. Exactly the right details to let the brain naturally fill the blanks. Zax would have appreciated the mastery if not for the rising panic. The voice continued after a moment of stunned silence: ¡°I was waiting for you.¡± Miss Pen had sat on her bed but she had yet to say a word. Her face still wore the same smile, as if nothing was amiss. Zax couldn¡¯t be fooled by such nonchalance. No matter how impossible it was, there was no mistaking what was speaking. The pitch. The choice of words. The artificials sounds with too natural intonations. It was the Core. Outside its territory. The Core was talking to him in the dot. ¡°How!?¡± The question burst out of his lips before the human realised. It was irrelevant in the current situation, but the thought overshadowed every other in his mind. He had seen its list of restrictions. It wasn¡¯t able to send signals outside itself, besides briefs pulses in limited formats. Formats specifically limited to prevent it from interacting too much with other systems. Which side such limitations protected was a debate he didn¡¯t want to dwell on. Forcing his shock aside, Zax focused on what was truly important: the Core had subtly arranged for another meeting, and with a dotter¡¯s complicity. A dotter Aran had met during his intervention in the Core and had more frequent interactions with since. Considering the timing of the commission, this meeting was already planned when he had left its territory. He had walked right in the trap, without even realising it. Why? What does it want? Those were the more pressing questions, but he kept them to himself. He had nearly calmed enough to reign himself in. If the Core wanted or needed something from him, it was a negotiation. Not his favourite domain, but he wasn¡¯t helpless. His related programs wouldn¡¯t help much without an actual person in front of him, but he activated them anyways. He forced his face to be as blank as he could manage. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, the restrictions you¡¯re aware of are real.¡± The cartoonish face smirked. Despite the minimalistic art, the movement felt as natural and expressive as a real one. ¡°This is a recording so you take what Miss Pen is about to tell you seriously. Rest assured I am watching though.¡± A raised finger punctuated the warning before the figure faded away. Zax kept silent. He stared at Miss Pen, but she merely smiled in return: ¡°Nothing to be worried about, he wants you to be his eyes and hands outside his territory. Welcome to the club.¡± He? Hands? Confusion bloomed on the handyman¡¯s face and he didn¡¯t bother hiding it. Only confusion though. ¡°Someone who feeds him information about the happenings of the Shelter.¡± Miss Pen elaborated. ¡°A secret agent. A spy. For the Core.¡± Zax flatly stated. It sounded like a movie plot, but he couldn¡¯t afford to reject it yet. ¡°Doesn¡¯t it already have access to everything the Main Computer knows?¡± ¡°He does.¡± She nodded in confirmation. ¡°But there are things even the main computer can¡¯t know or won¡¯t share, points of view it doesn¡¯t have, and it¡¯s always good to have several references to cross.¡± The handyman with many self-thought skills could understand that. ¡°In general, you don¡¯t have much to do. Just live your life and share your thoughts somewhere. He¡¯ll see them eventually. Can be about anything, even if it seems too small or mundane to be worth mentioning. Occasionally, he may need you to do something.¡± She rose and paced in the limited space of the room. ¡°He only gives information on a need-to-know basis, but he makes sure you understand why, and the consequences of both accepting and refusing.¡± If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°Sounds like a threat.¡± His voice was steady, but he kept his eyes on the spy in front of him. ¡°You¡¯ll find that if he ever needs you to act, it won¡¯t be as simple as ¡°do as I say or else¡­¡±, and he knows to give the right job to the right person. He may even just give you an information, knowing how you¡¯ll react to it. I only had three actual requests, and the last one was to commission you and deliver this message.¡± Miss Pen revealed. ¡°He told me he wants you to join because of what you did in his territory; nothing more. I only know what you did from my own research, so only the public parts. Very impressive by the way. I¡¯m not sure what part made him choose you though.¡± ¡°¡­ are there a lot of you?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. It won¡¯t answer any question about others.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Why?¡± Zax would need time to digest it all, but he stayed focused on his voice and face. ¡°To prevent babbling, obviously.¡± ¡°I mean, why does it need agents? How does that relate to its mission and directives? It should already have all it needs for that.¡± ¡°He did, at first. But the Founders knew isolation leads to stagnation and falling behind, so they built him around that. Directives included. And they were right. Society advanced, the Shelter grew, some people started thinking about infringing on him, obtained means to do so¡­ and now someone actually tried. It cannot stand.¡± Zax knew first-hand what she was talking about, but it was chilling to have the same opinion coming from someone else. Temporary as it was, her sudden stop and grave expression still made it worse. ¡°I don¡¯t have details, but some of his directives must allow for¡­ us. Maybe even force him. I think the recent events made him step up his game too. Like your recruitment. I¡¯d bet there¡¯ll be more and more of us in the near future. But that¡¯s just my speculations.¡± Zax pondered about the implications, but he wasn¡¯t done. ¡°What about Aran?¡± ¡°Aran?¡± ¡°You won¡¯t make me think her being your home helper and coming so often is a coincidence.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so either, but I didn¡¯t know you were acquainted. It¡¯s true!¡± She defended at his flat glare, waving her hands in front of her. ¡°She was likely planted to become part of my life and appear in my reports, but I never received any instructions about her. I just did what I normally do.¡± ¡°Subtle background manipulation helping a more favourable natural outcome. Not infringing on free will. Normal Main Computer protocol.¡± Zax noted. If that was the Core¡¯s methods, it was reassuring. He had experience with those. It also meant the Main Computer was an accomplice, and it wouldn¡¯t do so if it went against its own directives. If nothing else, he could trust those. ¡°Alright. You mentioned the stick, but what¡¯s the sweet?¡± ¡°The sweet?¡± came the nonplussed answer. ¡°The makers and the Core must know how to make people obey or cultivate loyalty. Punishing the bad and rewarding the good. I guess what I mean is¡­ what¡¯s in it for us?¡± It felt strange to actually consider it, and even more to ask for something in exchange. ¡°I¡¯m starting to see why you were chosen.¡± The ancient who didn¡¯t act her age smirked. ¡°I don¡¯t know. For most of it, not much. You just keep on living your normal life, after all. No sense in paying you for that, and we need to stay discreet about it. If it needs you to do something specific though¡­ it can be anything discreet. The first example I got were having him calculate something for you. Like you normally ask the main computer, but adjustable live and without queue. You could also ask for credits, it¡¯s pretty easy to hide. Personally, I took game developing lessons.¡± That sounded interesting. Could he ask for more C-nanites? A second swarm? Lessons on how to use them? Wait, game developing? ¡°Just a few, but good stuff.¡± She casually sat back on her bed and the explanation continued. ¡°Things only he could teach. Gave me a big leg up on the competition, so to speak. But careful what you wish for.¡± Zax frowned at the warning tone, but didn¡¯t interrupt. ¡°I tried to strike rich with a revolutionary game, but I went too far too fast and it turned against me. Entirely my fault. I checked.¡± Her smile twisted in self-depreciation. ¡°The second time, I asked him to cancel what I did, and he did. Sort of. I learnt my lesson and made great games since, but it was never more than a hobby. Still pretty successful, if I may say so myself. And very useful for my teaching career.¡± Thinking back to the pictures on her walls, he could believe she had had a lot of accomplishments as a teacher. ¡°That revolutionary game, would it happen to be Dungeon Maker?¡± Zax pondered aloud. ¡°Yes? How did you-?¡± The eyebrows rocketed at the ceiling. The programmer couldn¡¯t help but revel at her bafflement, but he kept it off his expression. ¡°I was wondering about that since Aran mentioned you had a copy when I couldn¡¯t find any. Revolutionary on the technical side, but didn¡¯t take off for different reasons typical of a noob who never made a game before. I heard about non-intuitive controls and a weird lack of AI assistance in the development. Those severe critics were probably that ¡°turning against you¡± thing you mentioned?¡± A tiny nod answered. ¡°The developer stayed anonymous, the game appeared out of nowhere, and disappeared without explanation. You should know how hard it is for anything to actually disappear from the network, or you wouldn¡¯t have used your reward for that. Many people looked over the years and there are a lot of wild theories around it.¡± Networks might be a good place to start looking for other agents. Not that he would. He¡¯d just have to remember it when he went to the forums from now on. ¡°There are?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t spend any time in the game-dev forums, do you?¡± Zax mockingly raised an eyebrow, but concluded without waiting her confirmation. ¡°That game is basically a local legend there. The facts fit with what you just said, so I tried my luck.¡± He shrugged. If she had created that game, it also made her older than he reckoned. Much older. In all that time, an untold number of background manipulation, but at most two incredibly well-paid missions. So that¡¯s how far a single reward brought her, and how far they can go. She had developed a monstrous game, on her own, from scratch. Her talent might have helped, but she had no previous skills at the time. And the network cleaning¡­ it spoke by itself. As a game developer, fixer and seller himself, he could tell how valuable those rewards were, even the ¡°few lessons¡±: priceless. Literally; not something that could be bought or sold, with a non-measurable value. And in exchange for what? Small and easy tasks like passing a commission and a message to a specific person? It felt too good to be true, but it wasn¡¯t even the main issue. ¡°Thank you for the opportunity, but I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t do that.¡± The handyman shook his head and chose a professional tone. ¡°I trust the main computer to pull the strings behind the scenes because of its directives and because I know how to fit within. The same cannot be said for the Core. Even less now, actually. So if that was all¡­¡± He stepped for the door, but Miss Pen interrupted him: ¡°Ah, to be young again. I said the same thing back then. I think one of the requirements is to not blindly trust or distrust computers. She chuckled but didn¡¯t rise. ¡°He¡¯ll earn your trust. But anyways, I wasn¡¯t asking you to join, I was just informing you of your new status. Pretty sure you already keep a diary or a record. It¡¯s just speculation again, but I think you knowing is only the last requirement to make you eligible to another set of rules. To let him be more active around you or something.¡± Her words were not exactly reassuring, especially how true they rang. He did save his memories and kept a backup in the network. The main computer could access it, so the Core should too. ¡°Just live your life normally You¡¯ll see eventually. Or not, if he never asks anything.¡± The elder concluded as she rose and stepped after him. Her easy-going smile was back in full force. ¡°Ah, but I do have an actual commission for you. I was thinking about it for a while, so since you¡¯re here I can get on with it. Possibly not a coincidence either.¡± ¡°Yes?¡± He queried as the door opened. ¡°I know I look very fresh, but I¡¯m older than you think. I can¡¯t really feel the end approaching, but it doesn¡¯t hurt to be prepared.¡± ¡°¡­ I¡¯m not qualified for legal counselling.¡± Zax couldn¡¯t see where it was going, but she wasn¡¯t asking for help writing her will. The answer was actually simple, within his abilities, and a good exercise in customisation. She wanted a funeral plaque. It would have put a damper on the girls¡¯ mood ¨C Zax¡¯s mind was churning too much for that ¨C but the old furry lady made it clear it was just a matter of not being caught flat footed and that she still had many long years to come. Zax wondered if her longevity could come from a mutation. Chapter 40 - (Co)Mission A funeral plaque was an unusual order, but not unheard of, and the steps were familiar enough. Her specifications were unusual and would actually require nanites for the finishes, but it would be a fitting example for a curious apprentice. Luckily, Miss Pen was good sport and answered SG¡¯s less professional questions, such as ¡°Why don¡¯t you do it yourself?¡± pointing to the many pictures on the walls. Most were class pictures from all along her career, each face and details clear and clean. An impressive display of precision metal craving, if it had been made by a person. Their double answer of ¡°I didn¡¯t make those either. The firsts were a gift, then it became a tradition. Same for the moving ones in my bedroom.¡± from her and ¡°A printer can do that from a picture, nobody does it by hand anymore.¡± Made her only more curious. Miss Pen wanted her plaque to include a slideshow of all those pictures, so it would also be an exercise in animated builds, even if it was only a loop of bas-reliefs. He lacked experience in those. Motorised builds, with moving but unchanging parts, were usually better for his tasks. A great opportunity on many points, but how much of it was planned by the Core? Zax chased the deleterious thought off his head. It would only lead to paranoia. Once they were back at his shop, the lessons continued. He demonstrated how and where to pull the common blueprints for that kind of item and the legal text involved. The last was always a good point to have for any new type of project; he already had unpleasant surprises. Later came the final quote to replace the tentative one he had left to Miss Pen, followed by the actual designing phase and ordering the materials he lacked. Zax must have enjoyed himself more than he thought, explaining everything and answering SG¡¯s questions, for the day ended before he realised. Discounting the strange recruitment attempt, he was satisfied with the day¡¯s results. SG had had her first steps outside, clear flaws to address for self-improvement, a plan for the immediate future and a tentative plan for the further future that was already being implemented. His shop had a pool of orders to pull from that shouldn¡¯t empty before his special orders came back in the race. Everything was fine. ¡°Good day uh? What do you want to do for the evening?¡± Zax queried as they were closing the shop. ¡°Uh?¡± ¡°Well, we still have a few hours before curfew. If you¡¯re tired or if you want some time alone, we can go straight home. Or we can go out and do something. Show you what the dot has to offer¡­ we were talking about making you used to the light road sledges this morning. I think I heard you talk about going to an arcade with Aran too?¡± Caught short, SG stammered until Zax interrupted her with a laugh. ¡°Haha, yes, I know. Take your time, we¡¯re not quite done yet.¡± When they were, the winged girl was spared the weight of the decision by Aran calling and inviting them to the entertainment centre. She was looking forward to bringing her for a while now, and she wouldn¡¯t take ¡°no¡± for an answer. SG¡¯s body attracted attention and barred her from a few games, but they all had a great time. Aran kept most bystanders away by explaining her friend was just coming out of her shell and wasn¡¯t ready to talk with strangers yet. The few who wanted to bootlick were spotted and handled swiftly and decisively. Her social skills were as sharp as ever. The handless girl had gotten used to home console controllers, but the arcade¡¯s proved to be another challenge. Some didn¡¯t allow buttons at ground level, so she had to climb the button desk. Others required large body movements, made too large by her wingspan and unbalancing her. Those games never lost track of her limbs however; it made things easier than expected. She still had bad scores at every game she tried, but she had fun doing it. Except for the step-dancing one, where she blew the high-scores and was bored at how trivial it had been. She¡¯s good, but she might need a better challenge. Zax filled the thought for later. They arrived home a smidge before curfew, aching but fulfilled. Quick ablutions for everyone and they were ready to sleep. [ Reminder: Meditation ] Drat, forgot again. He¡¯d known the benefits a such practice for a long time, but his recent research about acupuncture had given it a new twist ¨C the two were related, somehow. He had remembered about it when thinking of ways to help SG manage her stress when dealing with customers, but it had only come back in the afternoon so he hadn¡¯t mentioned it. He had still set an alarm to ring in case he forgot again though. Fortunate, as he had. Other methods than the basic breathing exercise he knew from Quinn had come to his attention, so he was curious to try and he so happened to already be relaxed of body and mind. Might as well try. The basic position was true to its name; sitting cross-legged, straight back and neck. He set a countdown to the end of the exercise, set his breathing to the usual one-two-three pattern and focused on maintaining it and relaxing his muscles one after the other. It wasn¡¯t tedious, but his mind simply refused to stay still. It had always been his main problem with meditation. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. He had no expectation of facileness; he wasn¡¯t bothered and merely steered his mind back every time he realised it was going astray. Counting only helped so much. He thought he was getting the hang of it when his countdown rang and his bracelet signalled a message. The timing annoyed him, but it was merely his first time. It was supposed to be a regular exercise. He¡¯d do better next time, he assured himself as he stood and checked his message. [ Find your own rival. The first time we met, I tried using your B-box to keep an eye on the happenings outside. The Enforcers had it quarantined before I could. None present had the training to see that precaution, and I know you didn¡¯t tell them. An unknown third party interfered, with at least the same knowledge of nanites you have and the ear of someone high among the people involved. Possibly related to Cat and Dog¡¯s presence and the why of yours. No trace in the reports. You have to find out who they are and their objectives. I¡¯m sure you can see what damage they could do if left unchecked. Even more so if they succeed. ] The message alone would be confusing and easy to dismiss as nonsense, but the doodle in lieu of sender name removed any remnant of sleepiness and levity in Zax. Making custom characters, as in not a full font but a brand-new symbol, was an ordeal even he didn¡¯t want to delve in. Too much effort for low results. More importantly, this specific character depicted something he had seen recently: a drawn humanoid in a minimalistic style. A scaled down replica of the avatar the Core had used to introduce Miss Pen. There was no mistake. This message came directly from the Core. The Core had sent him a mission. He still didn¡¯t plan on playing along, but wasn¡¯t he supposed to live his life normally, with occasional simple tasks? It hadn¡¯t been a day, far from enough to assimilate what he had been told, and he had clearly expressed his refusal. What¡¯s more, it seemed far from a simple task. Step up his game, uh? Zax thought back to what the older dotter had said. If the Core felt that threatened, it would explain the haste in his recruitment and in this mission. If it thought a rival was responsible, it would explain why him. If it thought said rival was related to the attackers, it would explain the need for action beyond its normal means. But why didn¡¯t it conclude it was him who told the Enforcers? He was there, it was his Box, his nanites, Occam¡¯s razor should have made him the first suspect. Unless it was a trap? Manipulation to make him lower his guard? A test of his reaction? That road still led to paranoia, so he stopped. It was more difficult this time. Even if it too was a trap, there was no harm in testing it. At most it would be him acknowledging the Core¡¯s¡­ influence? His spies? His network? Without becoming part of it. In any case, nothing changed for him. There was also an obvious side path to open with. I can play games too. Even if he couldn¡¯t possibly win. ¡°I was serious. Please leave me alone.¡± It should be answer enough. If he actually thought the Shelter was in danger, he would have agreed or at least asked for an elaboration. Even as he replied, Zax couldn¡¯t help questioning his own reaction. If he truly wanted to be left alone, it would have been better to not answer. Overlook the text and ghost the Core like a clingy ex-lover. The mere fact he reacted made an unpleasant possibility into an undeniable fact: he was interested. He was disappointed in himself but he wouldn¡¯t refute it. The benefits were too enticing to fully ignore. His brooding was interrupted by a new message, from his professional mailbox this time. The Core again, with the same mission, but as an actual custom commission. He hadn¡¯t expected an answer, let alone such a quick one. Attached was his price list for consulting and support services, with annotations. None were for the kind of work required, but some were close enough for comparison. This time, Zax actually thought about it. Refusing could theoretically give him a malus since he had the time and ability, but the task was unusual and outrageous enough to justify it. On the other hand, he could treat it like any other commission, albeit with a special customer. A special customer he would treat like any other customer. He could work with that. It still left the question of payment however. A quote in 3G units was obvious, but it felt like a waste. What else would benefit him? The swarm¡¯s precise specs? Instructions on how to make them? More nanites? Some were better for him than others, but he had no idea how valuable they were to the other party. Same for the commission, for that matter. In the end, he settled for a quote with different payment options, and he would wait for an official payment promise before doing anything. It was standard procedure for complex remuneration options. He could only hope he wouldn¡¯t regret it. This time the answer only arrived the following morning, when the household was preparing for the day. His payment will vary according to the results, depending on the number of ¡°who-how-why¡± questions of the attached list he answered and how completely. Fair, but I feel like a cheater somehow. Zax agreed and mentally compiled¡­ a report about himself. Only then did the strangeness of the situation dawned on him. Still, he didn¡¯t hold back. He even added his theory about why the Core hadn¡¯t noticed from his backup memories; it had doubtlessly perused them already. Being thorough without being repetitive ended up taking more time and effort than expected, but he was done when he and SG arrived at the shop. Mental interfaces were the best. He was relieved to have any dealings with the dangerous entity finally over. For now. He ignored the irking intrusive thought and focused on the present. His apprentice was making great progress. Later, they would probably play games or try new experiences for another kind of progress. Possibly a park, there were other kinds of people and she would have all the space she needs. ¡°Zax, someone is asking for you!¡± SG called from the front desk, interrupting his musings. Zax frowned, but it wasn¡¯t because of the call. The current emulsion had to stabilise before he could move to the next step, so he could put the nanite production on hold without issue. His frown was because of her choice of words. The normal formula was ¡°A customer for you.¡± This time, it was ¡°someone¡±, so not a customer, ¡°is asking¡±, so they had talked to her directly, and ¡°for you¡±, not for help, not for a discount or anything that could be expected from someone at the counter. It took less than a second for the experienced shopkeeper to process the anomaly. Maybe it was a vestige of paranoia, but something in SG¡¯s voice told him this encounter would spell trouble. He could tell he was right before anyone said a word. Though, he had to admit even if he still didn¡¯t care for fashion, the Circle¡¯s clothes fit her better. Chapter 41 - Conversation and Cleansing SG was still crouched behind the counter when Zax arrived. Her refitting machine was running empty as her head swivelled between her boss and the newcomer. She had identified her by his description, but why was she here? Her clothes were nothing she had seen before either; definitely not the dot standard. Zax seemed as confused as his apprentice, but he set his face to neutral so fast she thought she had dreamt it. ¡°Hello Zax. My name is Bathor. It¡¯s time we finally have a normal conversation.¡± The side-horned woman stated in an assertive but professional voice. She didn¡¯t introduce herself before? Zax had never mentioned her name, but the apprentice hadn¡¯t considered it was because she never gave it. ¡°Hello. I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d see you again. What do you want to talk about?¡± ¡°My mission isn¡¯t finished. But after your¡­ demonstration, I realised I was in my own way and I decided to change my approach.¡± ¡°Going for straightforwardness, I see. You look elegant and professional.¡± Zax nodded approvingly. ¡°Ironically, it tells me less about you than before. I can¡¯t identify the fabric of your clothes, nor how they were made. Clearly, they¡¯re from the Circles, but I can¡¯t figure out anything more about them.¡± That comment refocused SG¡¯s attention on the visitor. Her clothes covered as much as a dotter¡¯s, probably because she had only human skin, but the cuts and seams were different. All sharp and angles, as opposed to the rounded squares she was getting used to. ¡°Even your bearing seems less fake, somehow. But why come to me again? Last time wasn¡¯t exactly a pleasant experience.¡± ¡°You¡¯re still my best lead. You¡¯ve already proven you¡¯re perceptive, you know the dot and you¡¯re not afraid of speaking your mind. You didn¡¯t tell anyone about me, so I know I can trust your silence too.¡± ¡°Er, I did talk about you. With my roommates. Plus a report of suspicious behaviour to the Enforcers, but those go straight to the records.¡± A shocked and embarrassed silence followed until Zax broke it. ¡°Why did you think that? Why would you even expect that? I had no reason to keep it quiet. I didn¡¯t even know your name or what you actually wanted. Which was part of why I was so guarded.¡± ¡°¡­ Why was I not arrested?¡± Her question and subdued tone shed some light about her mindset, but added more shadows around. ¡°Why would you? The authorities definitely know your name. You were weird and suspicious but you didn¡¯t do anything wrong or¡­ illegal. Well, not that I know of, anyway. Did you come in the dot from a secret entrance or something? There should only be one access point between the dot and the Circles.¡± ¡°No, the normal gate. I followed the arrows and nobody stopped me. Ever.¡± ¡°The facial recognition identified you and checked your records. If it allowed you in, you were allowed in. No one would stop you.¡± Zax shrugged, still not seeing what the deal was. ¡°You mean someone knew every time I came through!?¡± ¡°Of course. The access is tightly controlled, it¡¯s common knowledge here. I thought it was in the Circles too. Anyway, if secrecy was paramount for your mission, you failed before we met.¡± Fearing the conversation stalling again, the handyman forced it back on track. ¡°Now back on topic. What do you want from me?¡± ¡°¡­ I want you to tell me how to navigate the dot so I can find someone.¡± Still reeling from the revelation, she gratefully welcomed the return to known territory. ¡°The most obvious would be to ask your bracelet.¡± Zax showed off the wide but thin metallic ring loosely hanging on his own wrist. ¡°I see you still don¡¯t have one¡­?¡± He inquired. ¡°Taking one would leave traces.¡± Bathor shook her head. ¡°Using it too, I¡¯m sure.¡± Did she forget I was here? A witness was definitely a trace. ¡°It would, but I¡¯m pretty sure that ship is launched already. Also, just to be clear, everything happening in the dot is traceable.¡± He emphasised by using his bracelet to display public security footages of her walking through the dot to reach his shop. The Resident appeared transfixed by her own image, seen at several angles simultaneously and ignoring the few stares around. She earned more than SG did, too. ¡°And those are just the public records. Enforcers would have access to more. Do you still not want a bracelet?¡± Her horrified face was answer enough. ¡°Then you¡¯ll need a public access to the dot¡¯s databases. You knew the way here, so you should know about those already.¡± ¡°I used one in¡­ at home. They can be¡­ unreliable. I don¡¯t know the local ones. And I don¡¯t know what to ask.¡± ¡°Just ask where your targets are. If that information is locked, ask to send them a message.¡± The tone was a bit curt; Zax was getting annoyed. ¡°I don¡¯t even know who they are!¡± ¡­ What? The outburst startled both dotters so much the words didn¡¯t register immediately. The experienced handyman expressed both their thoughts: ¡°¡­ What?¡± ¡°I have a list of points to look for, but I don¡¯t know their name, or their address, or their appearance.¡± The single-horned Resident glared at him, as if challenging for a comment. ¡°Alright, I can see how that would complicate things.¡± Zax sighed. ¡°Just so you know, you¡¯re back to being suspicious. And I guess you can¡¯t tell me what you know about them either? Didn¡¯t think so. In that case, you¡¯ll have to comb through several databases, then cross-check the results. Add a new database, rinse and repeat until you have something you can use. When you have few enough names, you can query a meeting or something. There are tools to help with that. Do you have any experience with AI assistants?¡± ¡°Of course not.¡± She frowned so hard her eyebrows merged. Is the idea that insulting? ¡°Better forget it then, they¡¯d just get in the way. You¡¯ll have to use basic or advanced research for each individual database, case per case. Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s easy to use if you know what you¡¯re looking for and read the options.¡± ¡°Guess I can only try and see.¡± She sighed, but didn¡¯t falter in front of the daunting task. SG gave her a few points of respect for that. ¡°Where can I find those¡­ access points?¡± ¡°I can make you a list, but how do I transfer it?¡± ¡°How would you for a dotter?¡± ¡°Direct link between close bracelets.¡± ¡°Of course. Guess a normal paper list would too much asking.¡± She said sarcastically. ¡°Paper? You mean ordered cellulose made from actual trees? Sorry, I don¡¯t deal with frivolous luxuries.¡± If it was a luxury, it would explain why SG had never heard of it. She¡¯d have to research it later. ¡°What? It¡¯s not- I mean- I¡­ Uh. Nevermind. Just write it down here. With that.¡± The confused and confusing reaction was quickly shelved in favour of pulling something from her pocket and putting it open on the counter. A pen followed. Or was it a pencil? Zax put the request aside to examine the items. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°What are you doing?¡± The visitor frowned. That research seemed more and more important; SG had only seen Zax in such a state when talking about his studies of mutations. It wasn¡¯t as strong, but close. He briefly probed and manipulated the items a few times, and only then did he do as he was asked and wrote the requested locations. From the lack of hesitation, he probably had the whole list displayed on his mental HUD. ¡°Sorry, I never saw a physical notebook before. I understand better some design choices for the digital ones now.¡± He explained as he finished. ¡°There, that should be it. You can ask a passerby for directions if you get lost. Sorry if it¡¯s messy, I haven¡¯t written by hand since¡­ long ago.¡± Bathor took her notebook from the outstretched hand and left, still off-put by his last displays. She remembered to thank him as she passed the door though. ¡°That was weird.¡± SG stated when the door was shut. ¡°You can say. Whoever she¡¯s looking for, I pity them. Now back to work, apprentice. You have a quota to finish before you can call it a day.¡± Her boss clapped his hands to dissipate the leftover tension. The winged girl blushed and restarted her machine. It must have stopped from unuse at some point during the conversation. Her quota was ludicrously low, but not enough to dawdle. Still, as Zax passed the backdoor to his own task, she blurted out the question waiting on the tip of her tongue. Without stopping her manipulations this time: ¡°Why didn¡¯t you make her pay?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Zax stopped between the rooms. ¡°She asked something of you. You gave it to her. You don¡¯t work for free. But you didn¡¯t quote her. Or did you, and I missed it?¡± ¡°No, you¡¯re right.¡± Zax proudly nodded. She had well assimilated the principles of being a salesman. ¡°It¡¯s because what she asked for was worthless. Literally anyone above 10 could have told her most of it. The only thing worth paying for would¡¯ve been our silence, but I already failed that. Plus, I have no intention of keeping this interaction secret either. As I said, she was back in suspicious behaviour. Not sure she got that, but it¡¯s not my problem anymore.¡± The winged girl was sceptical about that reason, but she nodded her understanding. ¡°I humoured her for that long because I thought it would end with a commission, but she wants to do her research on her own. I can¡¯t force her, so that was that. Plus, I got to touch items I never saw before, and I had a glimpse of their clothing designs, so it¡¯s not like I didn¡¯t gain anything.¡± Doesn¡¯t sound very balanced though, with the general hassle. The apprentice kept her opinion to herself and inquired about the other curious point: ¡°Can you do that? Find someone specific from a list of traits?¡± ¡°I can try. I have an idea of what to do, but I¡¯ve never done something like that before. That would be within the Enforcer¡¯s purview.¡± Oh, she knew that principle! ¡°Never say you can¡¯t before you try.¡± The newbie recited. ¡°Good girl.¡± He smiled and nodded. She smiled back and kept going: ¡°Will she manage on her own?¡± ¡°No idea.¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°She doesn¡¯t want help and she refuses to use advanced tools, so she¡¯ll pay for it with time and inconvenience. How long and how much will depend on what she actually knows about her target, but she already demonstrated she was persistent. If she stays as patient and proceed logically, step by step, she should succeed. You know, eventually.¡± There was no further incident for the rest of the day. Slow day too, SG even managed to reach her quota earlier than expected, unlocking her training to the next level. Aran arrived just in time to serve as training mannequin for her new tricks. The foxy girl had finished early too, and she hadn¡¯t wanted to wait before gathering again. It was a relaxing moment; the girls discussing as SG applied her new skills. Once Zax was done on his side they closed the shop and suggested plans for the evening. The main goal was still to expand the winged girl¡¯s horizons, so her proposal to go back to the entertainment centre was vetoed. ¡°We could go to a nature park?¡± Zax offered. ¡°There are four, one for each season. Which is which is constantly rotating-¡± ¡°Duh.¡± Aran rolled her eyes. ¡°-so there¡¯s always something for every taste.¡± He ignored the interruption. ¡°They are unlike anything in the dot. We first met in the current spring park, so I thought you might like to see it before it changes too much.¡± ¡°Nice. I was thinking about the communal bath.¡± Aran presented her idea. ¡°It¡¯s a place to cleanse body and mind, and to mingle with others. We¡¯d see a lot of people and make a lot of really shallow bonds. There¡¯s also a swimming pool, I think.¡± ¡°There is one close but it¡¯s not the same building. That reminds me, can you swim, SG?¡± ¡°Er, maybe?¡± The uncertain answer caught them as off-guard as the question had her. ¡°I did it once, but it was just staying afloat while the current carried me. My wings helped a lot. But I couldn¡¯t do it for long.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t count if you didn¡¯t know what you were doing.¡± Zax contested. ¡°Funny, I would¡¯ve thought unspecialised wings would make it harder.¡± ¡°But good to know you could handle yourself if you¡¯re ever caught in a giant pipe.¡± Aran joked. The three friends chuckled. The choice eventually landed on the public bath. The former gladiator thought having enough space to spread her wings and clean herself on her own would be the main change, but it ended up close to an afterthought. After the open changing room, to strip and store their belongings, came the shower room. The first timer was still self-conscious about her body, but the lack of reaction when she revealed herself once again assuaged her fears. The ceiling was higher than usual, and everything sported the same white tones as Zax¡¯s water unit. At waist level was a series of palisades with shower heads and various apertures for different spraying options. Everything was like the standard water unit, only¡­ more. All in all, nothing unexpected for a communal shower, SG supposed. Except for the ambience. SG had gotten used to the respectful distance people kept in the dot, figuratively when not physically possible. In the streets, she never received more than a passing glance. In the shop, people stopped asking questions about her when they discovered it made her uncomfortable. The winged girl didn¡¯t perceive how comforting it felt until it stopped. The previous night at the entertainment centre, people were more boisterous and open, but the cheers of victory and laments of defeat mixed with the games¡¯ ambient noise, weaving an enjoyable vibe. It was easy to strike or stop a conversation with a stranger, or to let go without bothering others. It had been a shock, but by the end of the evening she was used to rowdy crowds. She thought she was, at least. How deluded she had been. In the communal bath, people were standing or sitting along the palisades, sometimes on them, discussing and washing themselves or each other. Children were playing with water hoses and laughing. Friends were talking, strangers washed each other¡¯s back, there was even a friendly arm-wrestling match on the side. Accolades and greetings between strangers were common. SG had nearly jumped out of her skin the first time someone had touched her shoulder; had Zax and Aran not assured her by their presence, things could have easily turned ugly. People seemed to compensate for a lack of contact and forgot the notion of personal space. It took a moment for that new shock to settle. Afterwards, time came for the actual cleaning. There were all kind of brushes and products available, for every skin, leather, hair, fur or else possible. It was easy and straightforward, especially with so many people eager to help. Some were better at it than others, but her friends assured her it was part of the experience, and it was never too unpleasant. At Aran¡¯s prompting, SG even managed to reciprocate and clean someone¡¯s back too. It felt surreal, but there she was; sitting on a stool, a talon grabbing her seat for stability while the other held a brush. Without a word, without knowing their name, she was scrubbing their back, doing her best to follow the scale layout. They were tall and sturdy; she didn¡¯t have to worry about accidentally hurting them. Zax and Aran were busy on the arms and head, the tailed girl making enough conversation for the three of them. It felt¡­ surprisingly smoothing. Therapeutic, maybe. She wouldn¡¯t be surprised if it had been their main reason for coming in the first place. Unfathomably, it worked. ¡°Had fun?¡± Zax grinned when they were done. SG nodded, her own smile refusing to leave. It may have been a bit overwhelming at first, but it was a pleasant experience overall. ¡°Ready for the second part?¡± His grin morphed in a smirk. They were not done? She blinked in surprise. And maybe some apprehension too. Indeed, they were not. If the previous room was a giant public shower, this one was a giant public bathtub. After the clamour of the previous room, the silence in this one was another world. SG¡¯s heart was beating in her ears. Many tubs dotted the floor, each filled with different options and settings of water. According to the map next to the entrance, some pools had water jets or bubbles, others were steaming hot, had salt and other components mixed in, and so on. Some were separated, to preserve their own air, like the mud baths with smells. The main benefits of each option were also explained. People were seated or leaning against the edges. Some were softly swimming closer to the centre. A few baths were opaque enough to only show the heads above the water. Everyone displayed serenity. SG was still reeling from the change of atmosphere when Zax wordlessly led her to a simple hot bath, showing her how to get in a free spot without disturbing others. She took extra care to not let her claws click on the floor as she walked, but with moderate success. No one called her out about it, but she felt uneasy. Once seated she was left not knowing what to do. Zax and Aran were still next to her, but she didn¡¯t dare to disturb the silence. She tried doing as he did, leaning her back against the wall, closing her eyes and slowing her breath. She didn¡¯t feel anything at first, although her shoulders untensed a hint. The rest of her body followed suit before she realised; the ubiquitous warmth slowly relaxing every muscle. She wasn¡¯t sure she would be able to move if she wanted to, and she certainly didn¡¯t want to. Her mind soon followed, wandering aimlessly. And as every time it did, a certain topic kept coming back. What future did she want? How should she wear her bracelet? The question and the conversations she had on the subject had kept her awake more than a few nights, but she wasn¡¯t closer to an answer. Having a job, something to do and to focus on, a short-term goal flimsy as it was, it helped, but it was too early to lean on. However, her anxiety, her doubts didn¡¯t gnaw at her this time. They were still there, trying to intrude, but they were less, somehow. Answers were as far away as ever, but a decision felt¡­ reachable, eventually. The bath maintained its effect as she pondered, and with those thoughts swirling in her mind, the winged girl slipped into a dreamless sleep. Her mind as cleansed as her body. Chapter 42 - Progress II The three stayed in the bath until the curfew drew close. Zax and Aran enjoyed a few other tubs but alternately kept an eye on SG, just in case. Coming had been an excellent choice, they had never seen her so tranquil before, even asleep. It was a pity to wake her up, but all good things had an end. They expected to startle her; her nights were still agitated. However, she woke up as softly as she had dozed off. Most remaining people were leaving, so she caught on and wordlessly left the pool. The hallway to the changing room had dryers in lieu of walls, with individual toiletries to order hair, fur and feathers at the other end. With the sheer volume of rushing hot air, it was the fastest SG had ever been dried before, and along with the noise it helped to fully wake her up. Only then did she notice how¡­ wrinkled her friend¡¯s hands were. ¡°What happened!?¡± She broke her inner harmony and nearly screamed. ¡°What? Oh, that? It¡¯s just what happens when we stay long enough in water. It¡¯ll pass in a few hours.¡± Aran calmed her down. ¡°What? Isn¡¯t it¡­ dangerous? Painful? It looks like it should¡­¡± ¡°Feels weird outside water, but no.¡± The foxy girl wiggled wrinkled toes on a pale, slightly handing sole in demonstration, before confining them in footwear. ¡°Entirely natural process, entirely painless.¡± Zax opened and closed a fist. ¡°You too? It¡¯s not a mutation?¡± ¡°No. A minor mutation could prevent it, possibly? Or enhance it, more likely. It must have a point, but I don¡¯t know what. I don¡¯t think mutations around that were ever recorded; I¡¯ll look it up.¡± Zax rambled, because of course he did. ¡°And like everything, it¡¯s only dangerous in excess. If you stay a month constantly underwater, you will have problems. A few hours? Unpleasant and uncomfortable at most. Major mutations like yours don¡¯t have such issue though. Not surprising; some species of bird are made to live around water.¡± SG probed and indeed, her own wings and talons were the same as always behind the feathers and soft scales. ¡°That¡¯s weird. What¡¯s the point?¡± The conversation continued as they finished clothing themselves and left. The soft conversations and ambient noise of the dot felt nearly alien after the silence of the bath, but not unlikable. Zax distractedly checked his messages; he had received two over the course of the evening. One was a notice of achievement from his commissions. Adaptations to the algorithms making his model were available. Took some time, but one got what one paid for. He would look at them at home, but they wouldn¡¯t be directly useable to make graft-compatible models. The second message was the Core¡¯s response to his self-incriminating report. No comment about the content, merely a normal satisfaction survey ¨C an excellent one ¨C and chosen payment options. Reassuring, but to be honest, Zax hadn¡¯t known what to expect. The payment included a path to a section of the Shelter¡¯s database containing everything about the swarm, its properties, how to make and maintain it, software requirements and even archives about their past uses and related theories, although that part was sparse. Not a lot of use had been seen through history. It was everything he needed to master it. That cache had always been technically open to anyone and not hidden, but it was in an unfrequented part of the database, the path all but obvious especially for someone specifically looking for it, and the main topic never explicitly stated. Even if someone randomly stumbled on it, significant foundations in the field were required to understand what it was about. To anyone else, it would be gibberish. Zax had known this section existed, but he would have never found it on his own; or at least it would have taken a lot of time. This treasure trove made up most of his payment, but not all. The rest would be more nanites for his personal swarm, to be delivered the next day. At his shop, since it was remuneration for an official commission. The programmer couldn¡¯t tell how much it would be, but he was already satisfied with the first part. When the three arrived home and separated for the night, Zax went to work. He wanted to dive in the swarm¡¯s data right away, but the amount was monumental and he would definitely lose himself in his study. On his own, he wouldn¡¯t have minded, but he had an apprenticeship to go back to in a few hours. He channelled his frustration on the model changes instead. The commissions fit his demands, but they had to be reworked to fit his needs. He spent hours at it without realising, but once complete he only had to feed it the data and see the results. He had a several configurations to test and compare, so he programmed them to be launched one after the other. He was exhausted, so he would analyse the results later. The next night, most likely. The next day, as the flatmates prepared, SG kept talking about her experience in the bath. It was amusing for the other two, like watching a child get excited for discovering a new piece of common knowledge. She mentioned imitating Zax¡¯s purposeful breathing, and the topic moved to meditation and its benefits. The winged girl was intrigued, and it could be a great help for self-control and to find herself, so Zax proposed: ¡°My ex told me about the benefits, but I recently learnt more about it and I meant to try more seriously. Maybe we can do it together?¡± Aran didn¡¯t want to be left out, so five minutes of their evenings were planned for the foreseeable future. It would be enough for a starting point; they could change it later. The workday was nothing unusual. The delivery of C-nanites arrived from an anonymous sender, allowing Zax to teach his apprentice about the different payment options besides 3G units. She hadn¡¯t considered it, but it gave her food for thought. The handyman wondered how the Core handled deliveries outside its territory, but prying felt like a bad idea. The afternoon¡¯s outing was at the spring park this time; they would visit the other seasons during the following days. Aran was reminded and reminded Zax about the free running lessons they had discussed; it felt so long ago. SG had never heard of the discipline, so he demonstrated. It was the ideal place. She tried afterwards, and the dotters were awed speechless by her demonstration of aerial acrobatics. Left, right, up, down, she jumped, bounded, twirled in every direction an in more ways than they could have imagined. It felt like a dream. Even knowing of her past, they couldn¡¯t help but wonder what she could have looked like at the time. Her mutation fit perfectly. While Zax focused on her body¡¯s movements and reactions, Aran fell in love. The grace, the agility, the control over herself and her environment¡­ it was everything she wanted to be. Not like Quinn, but enough to bewitch her. The tailed girl resolved to be more serious than she had ever been in learning parkour. She wasn¡¯t particularly interested in wings though; they were not quite¡­ Aran. She hadn¡¯t forgotten the impression Quinn had left on her either; she knew there were other methods. When the show ended, every dotter fortunate enough to be a witness clapped and cheered. The winged star was startled; she hadn¡¯t noticed the crowd admiring her feats. She froze, still panting and a bit sweaty, but encouraging nods of her friends helped to ground her. She put a hesitant smile on her face and timidly waved a folded wing. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. This joyous applause¡­ it was nothing like the bloodthirsty jeers she was used to. It was¡­ warm. She could get used to it. ¡°-and remember: skill and intent drive the mutation, not the opposite.¡± Were Zax¡¯s parting words to the more curious onlookers. When most of the crowd had left, a few enthusiasts had stayed to question SG on her training. It was a sensitive topic, so Zax had taken the reins with a few tips and helped break a few common misconceptions. Aran listened too, and with an attention that surprised him. SG wore a subtle smile all the way home and then some. Later, the three were relaxing on their own. Aran and SG were on opposite sides of the couch and Zax in his room. The gamer had fun testing her WIL add-on while her friend was looking up a random topic, her bracelet between her wrists. ¡°Paper?¡± Aran glanced at the floating screen. ¡°Were does that come from? You usually look for more common topics¡­¡± Before SG had time to answer, Zax burst in: ¡°Great news! I just finished the last checks, and my models are good to go. I managed to make a stable one for each of you. They even hold out during intense exertion like SG¡¯s show earlier. They should even work for people with several grafts, although some complex surgeries might be a problem.¡± ¡°Wow, that was faster than I expected.¡± Aran nodded. ¡°Congratulations.¡± SG politely concurred. They didn¡¯t care that much, but they knew how important it was to him. ¡°Thanks. And you know what that means?¡± ¡°You can update Stat Maker to get better results?¡± The gamer girl immediately answered. ¡°No! Well, yes... More accurate results anyways¡­ Technically yes? Nevermind.¡± He shook his head clear. ¡°Not what I meant.¡± ¡°You can use your nanites for surgery?¡± SG attempted. ¡°No, I know the theory but I¡¯m not a surgeon. Or even a physician. Although my scans would be a great diagnostic tool. I meant you not needing nanites anymore.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± An embarrassed silence followed, but Zax didn¡¯t let it last. ¡°Soo? Do you want to remove them? Right now? Let them evacuate naturally without restocking? Keep them? Keep them for now?¡± ¡°Ah, I¡¯d like to keep mine, please.¡± Aran was instant. ¡°I like seeing my stats improve. Also, don¡¯t you need us to go to our limits to be sure?¡± ¡°No need, I used your records. What is measured it the same, the difference is in how it¡¯s computed. I never measured SG at her limits either. And you?¡± ¡°Hmm, well, I was thinking¡­ can they be used to teach others?¡± She nervously rubbed her wings together. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Well¡­ Aran wants to learn how to¡­ free jump, but I don¡¯t know how to teach, so I thought¡­ maybe¡­ she could¡­ learn it directly?¡± ¡°Making her feel your muscle memory? Or your proprioception during exercise? That¡­ should be possible, but I don¡¯t know how much it would help. Your bodies are pretty different.¡± ¡°That sounds like a great idea! Can¡¯t you adapt her perceptions? Translate it to fit mine? You have both our models.¡± Aran butted in. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ maybe, but it would only force-match your anatomies. No idea how helpful it¡¯ll be, but it¡¯s worth a shot. I¡¯ll try.¡± ¡°Yay! Real-life skill books!¡± The foxy gamer exclaimed. Skill books?... Oh, yes, I can see it now. ¡°Neat, I didn¡¯t notice. I doubt it¡¯ll be that convenient, but it¡¯s a clear goal to aim for.¡± ¡°Skill books?¡± ¡°Ah, right, we didn¡¯t try games that used them.¡± Aran realised. ¡°It¡¯s an item that gives you a new skill instantly.¡± ¡°A tutorial?¡± ¡°No.¡± The foxy girl detailed. ¡°The tutorial will teach you,¡± she pointed, ¡°The player, the controls to make your avatar move. The skill book will teach your avatar a new move. The controls are the same for you, so no point in wasting real time leaning. Can be anything, from fireballs to swimming to a new language that is not part of the basic gameplay. Can open up great options. Isn¡¯t that the dream? Instant learning without effort, and you can just buy it!¡± Aran chuckled. ¡°As I said, it won¡¯t be that convenient.¡± Zax deadpanned. ¡°Nothing to do with the list you gave me then?¡± She asked. ¡°Hm? Ah, the one with job descriptions and related skills? No, nothing at all.¡± He waved his apprentice¡¯s question off. ¡°List?¡± It was Aran¡¯s turn to be confused. An explanation and demonstration from SG later, she excitedly exclaimed: ¡°We can totally add that to the Stat Maker! It¡¯ll be like a real character sheet! Just missing the level, experience points, health points, mana gauge, titles¡­ okay, nevermind.¡± She deflated as she listed. ¡°Hm. Not a bad idea, actually.¡± Zax perked up. ¡°I can give titles as rewards around the achievement list. Maybe other conditions too. The level could match the mutation. Basic, midling, advanced¡­ That¡¯s more a cultivation than RPG though.¡± ¡°Can be mixed.¡± Aran shrugged. ¡°True. XP would be a percentage of achievement of what they want? Or would that be for quests? Life goals? The skill list should be easy, just put your resume in and it¡¯ll make one from the official database.¡± ¡°Can even add an alert if they aren¡¯t as good as they think they are.¡± Aran giggled. ¡°That could work. The disclaimer will have to make it clear it¡¯s not legally binding though. I can already hear people complaining about it.¡± He winced. Both girls chuckled at the imagined scene. ¡°Alright, the small project is getting big, but let¡¯s come to it later. There¡¯s something else I wanted to talk about.¡± Zax waited until they were done before continuing. ¡°So, you know I usually spend some time alone in my room in the evening?¡± Nods. ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t mind when you called me at that time, but I have something I need to seriously focus on now. I¡¯ll restrain myself to one hour a day ¨C which is most frustrating ¨C to not lose touch with reality, but during that hour I can¡¯t be interrupted unless it¡¯s an emergency. It¡¯s very important to me, alright?¡± The girls shared a confused glance, but nodded. ¡°Sure, but what happened? It can¡¯t be the skill book idea, right?¡± Aran tried. ¡°I found a huge pack of data about the swarm. And I mean huge! It¡¯ll take me a long time to unpack everything, and I¡¯ll definitely loose myself in it. A strict schedule for when I do and don¡¯t dive will help, but it won¡¯t work if the ¡®do¡¯ moments are not actually filled with doing it.¡± ¡°Uh.¡± They were speechless. ¡°I thought only mutations could make you so¡­ involved. Even the surgery thing didn¡¯t.¡± Aran broke the silence first. ¡°Er, well, it IS interesting on its own, isn¡¯t it? And it¡¯s something only I can do.¡± The only thing. ¡°The surgery thing was just too gross, and I¡¯m pretty sure diving deep in that bag of worms would mean meeting the Black Market. Anyway, I¡¯ll send you a planning of ¡®do not disturb¡¯ hours. You can also think of something to do for yourself, you¡¯ll be sure I won¡¯t disturb. I¡¯ll tinker something to make it clear on my door without actually locking it. See ya in an hour, we can do the group meditation after.¡± ¡°Wait, you were serious?¡± ¡°Ah, wait!¡± SG perked up but went unnoticed under Aran¡¯s shout. ¡°I have great news too.¡± Her eyes gleamed with pride as she turned her holo-screen toward him. ¡°My WIL app is done!¡± ¡°Really?¡± Zax¡¯s eyebrows rose. ¡°Testing and all? Can be used as is? And wasn¡¯t it supposed to be an add-on to the stat maker instead of an independent app?¡± ¡°Yes! Well, I didn¡¯t actually test it, but I checked everything several times and the simulations hold up. The Main Computer confirmed it.¡± ¡°Nice. And impressive.¡± Zax nodded. ¡°I have no idea how you define willpower, let alone measure it. Careful using the Main Computer¡¯s name though, it can only confirm if your program does what you make it do, not what you want it to do.¡± ¡°Yes, even the best machine is stupid and will not see the obvious missing part. I noticed.¡± The foxy girl pouted. It had taken many mistakes before that particular lesson sunk in. It was the end of the command, why did the final dot matter so much!? ¡°Eheh, that brings me back.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Install it on your nanites and you can launch the field test. We can use your free running lessons for that too, get two birds with one stone.¡± ¡°Good idea but, er, well, I hoped you would look at it first?¡± The programmer¡¯s raised eyebrow was met with puppy eyes. He had decided long ago, but he kept silent longer than necessary. Her reaction was amusing. ¡°You won¡¯t improve if I fix your mistakes, but I¡¯ll make sure you didn¡¯t do anything dangerous. My safeties should prevent it, but you know what is said about completely foolproof devices. I¡¯ll look it up tomorrow, or maybe tonight if I have time. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me.¡± He had left before she could utter a word. ¡°What is said about completely foolproof devices?¡± She still asked aloud. ¡°A common mistake that people make when trying to design something completely foolproof, is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools.¡± SG quickly found the quote. ¡°¡­ Did he call me a fool!?¡± Chapter 43 - Commission Aran was displeased, but she waited until the end of his solitary hour before confronting him. She wasn¡¯t a fool, and fortunately for him, he was aware of it. ¡°Quite the opposite,¡± He factually stated. ¡°You can act silly or immature at times, but you¡¯re witty and, when properly motivated, you learn crazy fast. Making a functional app of such complexity for uncommon hardware in so little time attests to it, regardless of how well it works.¡± Aran discreetly stashed the complements in a side of her mind. She hadn¡¯t seen them coming. The quote he had alluded to had merely been his way of expressing humility. Even if he was objectively the best nanite user of the dot, overconfidence wasn¡¯t a trait he wanted to cultivate. The Core didn¡¯t count, even if it was technically inside too. Once in the clear, the group meditation was underway. The trio sat and followed the recorded instructions. Sitting in a comfortable, relaxed position. 1-2-3 Closing their eyes and synchronising their breaths to the constant counting. 1-2-3 They naturally fell in the same rhythm, wordlessly supporting each other. 1-2-3 Focusing their thoughts on their own bodies. Their breath. Their posture. 1-2-3 Or trying to, at least. 1-2-3 Aran quickly regretted questioning why the session would only last five minutes. It was harder than she thought to not let her mind wander. 1-2-3 It had barely started and she already had to recentre her thoughts several times. 1-2-3 Frustration was brewing, which only made it worse. 1-2-3 When it was over, no progress had been made. She felt as agitated than before, differently was all. It was far from the promised benefits. SG had fared a bit better; she had at least managed to relax her body. ¡°It was only the first time.¡± Zax reassured them. ¡°Improvements are counted from there, not before.¡± ¡°We sucked.¡± Aran sulked. ¡°How do you know? Did you ask an expert how the first time is supposed to feel?¡± She didn¡¯t answer, but it lifted her mood a bit. He was right, of course, but she didn¡¯t want to admit it aloud. She had no illusion about her own talent, but still¡­ I wonder how good Quinn was at it. She was the one who had first introduced the idea to Zax after all, but the question stayed unvoiced. He seemed fine, but there was no point in bringing those memories back. Who do I want to be? Quinn was a role model, but the question caught her off-guard. It wouldn¡¯t leave her head either. That night, it took a while before she could fall asleep. *** ¡°Didn¡¯t think I¡¯d see you again.¡± It might be unprofessional, but Zax would be surprised if there was business to be had with the now familiar visitor in his shop. ¡°It¡¯s taking too long.¡± The single horned Resident deadpanned. Zax was busy refilling his shelves of consumables and SG was crouched behind the counter, progressing on the day¡¯s task. Only her head was visible from the shop, but it was enough to let Zax see she stayed focused this time. She still threw occasional glances at them, but he couldn¡¯t fault her for that. ¡°Three days.¡± The shop-owner deadpanned back, but relented with a sigh. He couldn¡¯t tell if it was too much for her hurry, not enough for what needed to be done. ¡°Anyway, what do you want from me?¡± ¡°I conferred with my colleagues. They agreed to let you know more to help us better.¡± Concise and professional, but also laconic and open to interpretation. The wording implying they did him a favour didn¡¯t escape him either, but she didn¡¯t try to pressure him. Yet. Nevertheless, points for the control over her emotions; even his nanites could hardly detect them. ¡°You want me to help with your mission? What was it again? To find someone by description alone?¡± Maybe there is business at stake after all. ¡°¡­ Yes. Not a physical description. I have a list of criteria to look for. You are to use them to narrow in on the target. As much as you can.¡± Zax blinked in surprise; he hadn¡¯t expected a straightforward answer. He seamlessly turned his business mode and mods on and took his best salesman voice: ¡°Quite an uncommon commission, but you¡¯re in luck: I recently fulfilled a similar one. What do I have to work with? Any conditions you want to set? Secrecy, traceability¡­¡± ¡°Commission? You want to be paid?¡± The Resident frowned. ¡°Of course. I¡¯m a nice guy, but you¡¯re not asking for common knowledge anyone could give you anymore. You¡¯re asking for an actual investment in time and probably resources. I won¡¯t give you that for free.¡± If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Not to a suspicious Resident. ¡°You happily spent hours asking children to tear me down.¡± The tone was factual, but the words hinted her displeasure at the memory. ¡°I was paid in catharsis. No effort from me, and it was worth the time.¡± Zax grinned. He had no regrets and he wouldn¡¯t pretend to. As they were discussing, he had joined SG to the counter to put his box of merchandise down, grab a slab and show what he was doing to his now client. She still didn¡¯t have a bracelet. With a few hand gestures purely for show, he mentally displayed the quote of the Core¡¯s order on his mental HUD and a blank one on his slab. He first explained how anonymous commissions worked ¨C motioning his apprentice to pay attention. Once the Resident was assured of a way to hide her involvement and confirmed she would use it, they were free to discuss details. The prices were changed to fit the situation, compensating for the official difference in the value of 3G units between the dot and the Core. The rate surprised him. He considered blowing up the price a hint, but ultimately opted against it. Despite his personal hung-ups, he didn¡¯t want to be the kind of service provider who preyed on despair and lack of options. The matter turned moot, as Bathor refused to give more information or even to show the criteria before he formally promised to help. The estimates of time and effort spent were off by a large margin, so the price naturally went up. She didn¡¯t appear to consider money as a potential problem. He made it clear that her anonymity would be voided if he didn¡¯t get his payment, and that living on the other side of the border wouldn¡¯t protect her legally. She didn¡¯t care about that either, so he elected to take precautions with the payment options too. Those were equally adapted. The Resident shouldn¡¯t have advanced knowledge about high-end nano-technology, but she might give him access to body-scans of advanced mutants. He didn¡¯t believe she would find volunteers, but it wasn¡¯t like giving the option cost him anything. His one non-negotiable requirement was an assurance, in the form of a hefty amount of 3G unit, put on an independent deposit account. She would get it back when the commission was over, unless something happened that would result in him not getting his due. ¡°You don¡¯t trust me, do you?¡± It was a statement, not a question. ¡°It¡¯s just a precaution. I¡¯m sure you can imagine why it would be necessary for anyone.¡± Zax placated. After more back-and-forth than either found comfortable, they had a working agreement. Zax would work alone, and he wouldn¡¯t mention the criteria or the results of his investigation to anyone ever, within legal reason. His report would never appear on the network. His search wouldn¡¯t mention the commissioner, and he wouldn¡¯t contact any of the potential targets. Whether the Residents got what they wanted or not from his report would not affect his payment. He¡¯d be paid an hourly rate, but he would only start working once the warranty had been deposited in full. The notion of non-physical liquidities upset her, but she didn¡¯t raise a fuss. The horned mutant had to buy some commodities to be able to follow on her part, like a burner ID chip to set a communication line and create the deposit box. Anyone could put the chip in any bracelet or terminal, no name was required, and it would work like a normal, albeit simplified bracelet. The ID being temporary would be clearly stated in any operation, which locks some legal operations out, but there would be no information about the person behind. ¡°Why do you have that?¡± Bathor curiously asked. It was a fair question. ¡°Officially, for children too young to have a bracelet of their own, but it¡¯s popular for other reasons. Sometimes people want to surprise friends or family. Or to hide shameful activities. Porn and the like. Someone people are just too prude to admit their own tastes.¡± Zax explained with a shrug. Fortunately, the shop had everything she needed. She paid for it with material 3G units, which honestly surprised Zax more than it should have. The flat metal squares felt smaller than he expected, close to a knuckle in size, and the transparent part in the middle took more of the surface. She took a row from her handbag and pulled the required stacks from it. Did she carry that from the beginning? The miniature purse she kept them in, itself resting in a regular purse, hinted a yes. It felt most impractical for the dotter, especially for larger amounts, but he merely blinked the idea away. The cost didn¡¯t reach 100 units, so they didn¡¯t get to see the next denomination ¨C ten rows forming a square ¨C but it was interesting enough. According to the law, she had two weeks to agree or reject his quote, after which he would be free to change the price or refuse the service. She finally left the shop, but she would come back to give him the list if her colleagues agreed to his conditions; hopefully sooner than later. Zax was getting annoyed with their weird need for discretion. He didn¡¯t doubt they had their own reasons, maybe even legally and morally sound ones. Same for their decision to give details to a dotter rather than train themselves to use the tools required ¨C easily justifiable as it was a useful skill in many jobs. It was probably not as arbitrary as it seemed, even if they didn¡¯t have a deadline. Regardless, from where he stood it only seemed to only waste everyone¡¯s time, especially theirs. Hopefully, not much more of his. There were many tools to compile and cross-reference databases, so it shouldn¡¯t be a problem. On the other hand, it would depend on the list, which didn¡¯t fill him with hope. ¡°What is that?¡± SG queried when they were alone, eyeing the stacks haphazardly thrown on the counter. Silver lining, he now had an occasion to show how the dot handled material 3G units. ¡°The dot uses dematerialised 3G as currency, but the point of having a salary is to actually have 3G in your hands at some point. That¡¯s what they are.¡± He gave her a single square box. She took it on the back of her wrist to gingerly probe and turn it with the other. ¡°This is a single unit. Actual 3G, stored in a standardised box for controlled size and purity. I haven¡¯t seen a real one since elementary school. The transparent parts are silicon, held together by the metal frame. The carvings in the frame make them stackable for easy storage and transport. They also have a system to manually expel the 3G, but you can¡¯t do it on more than one pr two at a time. For more, you need specialised tools. You could also destroy the box or pry it open, but that¡¯s just asking for trouble and makes them harder to reuse later.¡± ¡°Trouble? Reuse?¡± ¡°Trouble because it¡¯d be suspicious. They are hard to damage unless on purpose. And why would you do that? I can think of more illegal or immoral reasons than the opposite. Plus you risk having the 3G fall somewhere you don¡¯t want to. No risk of that with the normal method. Reuse because they can be filled again by the manufacturers.¡± ¡°There could be leftovers in the box too.¡± ¡°Ah, no. The units are made of the smallest sample of 3G there can be. Any attempts at dividing it further have failed. Cut it and it compresses itself on one side of the blade. Dilute it and separate the solution, you¡¯ll have a part with the whole unit and the rest with none at all. Even if all parts combined are smaller than the initial 3G alone. Everything was tried, still is I bet, but we never succeeded.¡± ¡°Why? How?¡± The winged girl was flabbergasted. ¡°Excellent question.¡± He nodded, then shrugged. ¡°Nobody knows. You¡¯ll probably earn a fortune if you figure it out. Back on topic. You can see here, ten units are commonly bound in a ¡®stack¡¯, and you saw our dear customer with a ¡®row¡¯, made of ten staked stacks. They are supposed to be stacked side by side for easy check, but if not, it doesn¡¯t change anything besides making it harder to see and empty them all at once.¡± As she tried to parse through the alliterations, he replaced the square in her wings with a similar cube; the same but thicker. Looking closely, SG could see the separation between the individual units, and the added piece that kept them together. All the see-through circles aligned to make a lovely green cylinder in a rectangular hose. ¡°The names come from the standard storage options. There are bigger denominations after the row, but you won¡¯t see them in the dot. We make prices in 3G.¡± As an afterthought, he added: ¡°It seems more important in the Circles though. I knew the cost of living and salaries were higher, but I didn¡¯t expect that. Guess very few things cost less than a stack?¡± When the former gladiator was done with her examination, she put the stack on the counter and he concluded: ¡°I¡¯ll show you how to use the deposit and withdrawal points later. It¡¯s also where you put the used units. I wanted to wait the end of the week so you¡¯d have more to withdraw, but no point in that now.¡± She nodded her understanding. ¡°Now back to work lady!¡± He clapped trice. ¡°And congratulations for not interrupting yourself for no reason earlier.¡± Chapter 44 - Lessons Withdraw points were a touchy topic for the dot. They were unavoidable, arguably the most important aspect of anyone¡¯s life, but also unspeakably dangerous to its continuous operation. Unless special cases, the only reason a dotter would have to withdraw 3G was for immediate use. More 3G in the body was a no-brainer requirement to mutate. No surprise, the areas surrounding the points witnessed a great deal of activations. As paltry as they could be, repeated exposure would still be lethal to anything electronic. Over time, a balance had been found. The points were spread strategically, and any construction nearby had strict requirements. Storage of non-perishable goods and raw material were common options. In typical dot fashion, the withdraw points were simple, efficient and practical. From the outside, it was mere lights, buttons and splits in the wall. Dials set the desired action; deposit or withdrawal, the later with hard units or direct use options. The user ID and amount of 3G were set by pushbuttons. Above was a split flap display with simple status messages and instructions. Next to them was a simple lightbulb, and not the common type covered in tiny mushroom, a fully electric one. A hole sat below the rest, large enough to put a fist in with room to spare. It would welcome the exchanged substance or chips. On the side, seldom used, was a wider square opening to let people throw used chips and stacks. ¡°It¡¯s as simple and mechanical as possible, but still controlled by the Main Computer.¡± Zax explained as they waited for their turn. ¡°Your ID tells it who is asking and how much you have in your account. The status messages will tell you if you overdraw, but for more details you¡¯ll have to check your balance yourself.¡± SG nodded her understanding as each information was delivered, but didn¡¯t raise her eyes from the ground. An advanced mutant in the dot was strange, but an advanced mutant who had never seen a withdraw point before? That didn¡¯t make sense and attracted a lot more attention than usual. Fortunately, Aran and Zax kept the agitation at a minimum. Inside and out. ¡°The light shows the machine is currently turned off, to protect it from activations. You¡¯re supposed to turn it back on when you¡¯re done. It¡¯s not a written rule, just common courtesy. In the same way, don¡¯t block the queue even if you need to check your account. Especially since you¡¯re supposed to turn your bracelet off around here, or it risks being destroyed.¡± ¡°It¡¯s on the signs.¡± Aran reminded. There were a few on the way and even one above the dispenser. ¡°Same once you¡¯ve got your dose. If you didn¡¯t activate, standing there won¡¯t help. The rest is common sense.¡± ¡°Normal stuffs. Don¡¯t look above others¡¯ shoulders. Don¡¯t rush them. Don¡¯t touch them without consent. That kind of thing.¡± Once they were close enough, SG could finally watch the process. It was always the same, but she was alert every time someone put their hand in the hole. She couldn¡¯t see, but if she focused, she could barely make out the sound of metal sliding and the occasional plop of something viscous. No glugging however, and the woman in front of them had loudly declared she¡¯d put a large amount. Right, they had mentioned something about that a few days ago. In contact with organic matter, the 3G acted less like a liquid and more like a full ¡®whatever shape¡¯ balloon emptying itself at the contact point. The more area, the faster, and something about not everyone having the same speed? Yes, that sounded right. After the initial contact, the 3G wouldn¡¯t make a noise no matter the amount. Their turn arrived as she was pondering, and Zax demonstrated a seldom-seen deposit. The dial settings were self-explanatory, and he let her look in the hole as he put his few stacks of units in appropriate inlets. She was so focused on the aperture she didn¡¯t notice him pushing the start button. The noise as the units were taken in was sudden and made her reflexively pull back. She glared the them, but Zax and Aran chuckled as they all moved aside. ¡°To consume individual units, it¡¯s simple. Pinch the frame thrice on opposing sides with your nails, as if you wanted to flatten the circle. One, two-¡± Zax demonstrated with a chip he had kept. ¡°See? From transparent green to glass-like. It should also work if you pinch between your teeth; I never tried. I don¡¯t know where it¡¯s been.¡± In a fit of not-childlike-at-all whimsiness, he put it in from of his eyes and pretended to wave at the winged girl through a window. ¡°Hello!¡± Her glare didn¡¯t last. ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem impossible to take more than one at a time.¡± She forced seriousness in her voice. ¡°And hard to use without hands.¡± She motioned with hers. ¡°One per hand would work, I guess,¡± He shrugged, ¡°but that¡¯s still only two. Four if you add mutated feet. Half a stack if you add the teeth. Any significant amount does require tools. Or mutations, but I struggle to imagine one centred around using more chips at once. For the hand thing, that¡¯s why the teeth work too. If you have neither¡­ your mutation is so advanced you don¡¯t wanna take units one by one, I bet.¡± Aran giggled at the image. ¡°Lastly, don¡¯t forget to throw the chip in appropriate containers so they¡¯re reused. It¡¯s a waste to make new ones. I already wasted the 3G by using it on myself.¡± He concluded, joining action to his words. The sound of a metal piece hitting a mostly empty bin rang from the angular opening. ¡°Any question? Do you want to withdraw something for yourself?¡± SG looked at the queue behind them and shook her head. She had learnt what she had to and she was glad for it, but she didn¡¯t think she had much and she was more than mutated enough already. ¡°Great! Now, parkour!¡± Aran exclaimed, pumping a fist in the air. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for that all day. Where are we going? The gym?¡± Her first lesson in free running was the original plan for the evening, and most evenings in the foreseeable future. The gym was a sensible idea, but Zax led them to the autumn park instead. The red and oranges were pleasing to the eyes, but the unique fragrance always soothed him. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. More to the point: ¡°SG had never come here, and the fallen leaves will be perfect for lesson one: landing.¡± Zax explained his choice. Aran wanted to jump to the interesting part, but both teachers were adamant it had to be done first. They started their warmup with a long jog around the park, looking for an appropriate spot. They had tried jogging on the way to the park, but they quickly learnt SG running in the street was better avoided. Unlike what her acrobatics would suggest, her talons didn¡¯t have a great range of movement. Traction and griping? An abundance. Flexibility? Basically non-existent; it all was in her human parts. It made her running gait¡­ a polite person would call it awkward. A less polite person could say wacky. Maybe farcical if they felt fancy. Straight lines were not too unskilful, but to change direction, she needed to turn her whole trunk. Her wings helped with balance and coordination, but busy sidewalks simply weren¡¯t a place she could race in without causing a significant disturbance. Interesting. Zax had missed that effect when studying her model. Considering the result, a small price to pay. Probably. In the park, where she had room to move without hindrance, her mobility was nothing if not impressive. Vaults and aerial acrobatics weren¡¯t her only forte. Even off the maintained path, she could navigate all obstacles like a fish in water. Her stamina wasn¡¯t at the same level, but still above average. Above the two dotters, at least. They eventually found a fitting playground, with playsets at various heights and a layer of smooth gravel on the ground. It was made to let children fall safely, but it would work for adults too. A few younglings were playing, with parents watching or discussing on benches circling the area. The heaps of leaves wouldn¡¯t be used, but nobody regretted the trip. As usual, the feathery girl caught eyes, but they quickly went back to their games. The lesson went both more smoothly and more difficultly than expected. SG had never taught before, and she had learnt by trial and error. What she saw as obvious, wasn¡¯t always. Zax would handle the basics, and she would pipe in from time to time. The idea was to have her intervene more and more as the level increased. Aran would catch up with Zax and they would both train under SG, if it was still required. They had to slow down to let Zax focus on the skill book project. He had kept the name, he found it amusing. The night before, he had given them nanites of each type he had. Where they only had measuring and recording types before, they now had stimulating ones, a few C-nanites for completion¡¯s sake, and a few others. They would remain dormant until required. Connected to the two B-boxes on his person, the handyman had them do the same movements together, followed by doing the same landing exercises. For SG, it was so trivial it barely registered above normal activity, which ironically helped separate it from the excellently hidden stress of being watched by so many young eyes. Drawing parallels wasn¡¯t complicated, but where to go from there? He had a few ideas, but only one he could test immediately. By the time they left the park, they knew stimulating the peripheral nervous system was not the solution, and they had confirmation Zax¡¯s nanites would never be able to secretly puppeteer someone. It might theoretically be possible, but it would require saturating every nerve with nanites, along with specialised hardware and software, and to coordinate everything at the same level an actual brain did. He had no idea what computation power would be required. As things stood, spending all the charge of their nanites was unpleasant, uncomfortable ¨C and creepy ¨C but ultimately inoffensive. Wouldn¡¯t even make a finger twitch. Still, it was progress, and the actual lesson hadn¡¯t been lost either; with preparation, Aran was now able to land on any solid surface, from any angle, from a bit more than twice her height. She still had a hard time forcing herself to jump from there, but it could only improve with experience. Once they were home and had recuperated from the exertion, Zax recharged their nanites and set new ones in their brains. SG didn¡¯t mind since she had some experience. Aran had been reluctant at first, but the idea of a real-life skill book equivalent was too enticing to give up. Even if the skill would still require actual effort. Zax made sure to manage her expectations. He would use the three days until their brains were analysed to research whatever seemed useful. He had had to learn some neurology to develop his neural interface, but while it gave him strong foundations, it was too general and far from enough for their purpose. SG thought her map would be done faster, but it had been more than three days since she had her brain recorded. Her neuro-chemistry had been totally renewed; it would have to be mapped again from scratch. Her old recordings could help with some functions, but not what they needed. The day¡¯s group meditation didn¡¯t show much improvement, but there were no complaints. With their activities during the rest of the day, it was nice to relax together. The next day, the Resident was back in the shop with the acclaimed list. It wasn¡¯t a surprise; the warranty account had been filled during the night. Zax had to insist on an official acceptance from the anonymous account, but she didn¡¯t resist much. Very little, actually. A token effort at best, which made him think she didn¡¯t want to be difficult but had to for some reason. Concerning. She put the paper on the counter, denied any kind of personal trouble when he pried, took his confirmation he had everything he needed from her, and she left immediately. True to his word, Zax glanced at the paper, mentally had his nanites take a picture and convert it in text format, and tore it apart to dump the pieces in the most corrosive chemical he had. In less than a minute, there was no trace left and he could freely peruse it as he pursued the day normally. At first glance, it was a mess. Gender: Most likely female. Age: between 19 and 45. Vague, but enough to work with. Most likely jobs and hobbies¡­ they were all over the place. Pointing correlations and contradictions with other sections of the list should have made his job easier, but one for every point? It only shows you have no idea who or what you¡¯re looking for. How was he supposed to find it? The list seemed made by people who only wanted to contradict one another. People who weren¡¯t familiar with the dot either, but that one was hardly a surprise. A nurse with violent tendencies? Wouldn¡¯t stay a nurse. Impatient, but possibly a teacher? Not a good one, so didn¡¯t fit with the ¡®highly skilled at what they do¡¯ point, which they were sure of. Predisposition to addiction? Irrelevant; the Main Computer was an expert at spotting and stopping self-destructive behaviours before they became a problem. An addiction would have a hard time taking root. A second glance didn¡¯t clear things up. ¡®Fat¡¯ and ¡®skinny¡¯ had the same probability. Besides the width of the statements, why include them if it wasn¡¯t going to narrow the choices down? If it¡¯s important, gather them in a single ¡°not of healthy weight¡± or something. At the third glance, the handyman chose to believe some of the points were red herrings, added to hide who they were actually looking for. It would fit, they hadn¡¯t explained how the list had been made, or what they wanted from that person of interest. He had to justify his findings even if they were unconclusive, based on the list. It would take a lot of his time, but he was paid by the hour regardless of the result so he didn¡¯t lose anything. Even with AI assistance, it would take a while, and he was familiar with the tools and databases he would need. Bathor knew what she was looking for, but nothing else, and she had lasted three days before asking for help. It was a testament to her stubbornness; she rose in his esteem. Chapter 45 - Finally ¡°Alright, let¡¯s stop for today.¡± Zax clapped his hands once. ¡°I can¡­ keep going.¡± Aran panted, struggling to get up. Falling flat on her back had taken her breath away. Fortunately, she was already at ground level, it could¡¯ve been worse. ¡°Maybe, but let¡¯s not. We already let you keep going long enough with that ankle.¡± ¡°Just a bad landing... no biggie¡­¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have the boxes, but I¡¯m still reading everything live, remember?¡± Health monitoring was part of the basic package for his nanites, and the experiment required to constantly watch and compare her and SG¡¯s readings. A few days ago, he would have required ongoing direct contact with their personal B-boxes to use them as relay points, possibly minus one if his nanites copied part of its software. His recent progress with the C-nanites let them fully replace up to three boxes at once, with direct contact only necessary to establish a wireless connection. Who would¡¯ve thought resonance was so strong at that scale? There could be more than three, but he would struggle to follow such an input. If he couldn¡¯t interface mentally, there was no point in using his nanites instead of his bracelet. Zax had more immediate concerns than hand-free scanning and being the weak link of his chain, however: ¡°Your muscles were overstretched and you were way too close to actually breaking your ligaments. I can see the damage. It changes the way you feel and react. Like right now, just staying up, you favour the other leg.¡± ¡°He¡¯s right.¡± SG concurred as she landed as if stepping down stairs. ¡°Even if it¡¯s not that bad now, it¡¯ll only get worse if you insist. It can give you bad habits too. You¡¯ll only regret it later.¡± Seeing no help was coming, the tailed girl relented and let herself fall back spread eagle. It made sense, but she didn¡¯t have to like it. They were off-path in the forest area of the summer park. Even with the occasional root, the ground was soft and comfortable, the earthy smell appeasing, and the shade of the trees kept the worst of the heat and light at bay. ¡°Now you see why it was important to learn how to land first.¡± Zax concluded as he and SG followed suit. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m surprised it took so long before you hurt yourself. Maybe you¡¯re good at it.¡± ¡°Well, that exercise was weird.¡± She pouted. She was to jump, grab a branch, swing her body for momentum, and throw herself to land the furthest possible, or at a specific point they decided. Aiming too far made the landing awkward and unbalanced, and it was easier to accidentally turn than to keep going straight; she had fallen on her back more than once. ¡°It was mostly to get you used to the sensation of falling backwards. Estimating distances and your current limits are good bonuses though. Tomorrow we¡¯ll do forward.¡± ¡°It¡­ worked, I guess¡­ but shouldn¡¯t it be the opposite?¡± She was getting her breath back. She didn¡¯t panic and threw her arms randomly when she felt a fall coming anymore. She could even confidently take a running start now. ¡°You¡¯d think so, but no. When you fall forward, you can actually see yourself falling. If you fall backward, only your natural balance tells you about it, so your brain doesn¡¯t raise as much alarms.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why?¡± SG blinked. She had observed the phenomenon, but never knew why falling forward was so much more difficult. ¡°Uh. Neat. Did it help with your experiment? The mapping exercises got boring real fast.¡± Aran sighed. ¡°I have no idea how you could do that not once, but twice. Cudos, SG.¡± ¡°Greatly.¡± Zax nodded as the feathered girl awkwardly fidgeted. The neural mappings had been completed the previous evening. They wouldn¡¯t need more exercises for that, and since they did the same ones at the same time, they also helped to draw parallels. Zax even joined to add his data to the pool, even if mapping wasn¡¯t a problem for him. ¡°It¡¯s not enough to translate thoughts between us ¨Cnot sure it¡¯d be a good idea to try anyway ¨C but it¡¯s enough to give me a foundation.¡± ¡°And your ¡®more harmless than direct stimulation¡¯ option?¡± She snickered, quoting his own words. ¡°Well, you tell me.¡± He raised an eyebrow. ¡°You said you could see it? No issue?¡± ¡°Yeah, a see-through shadow of me that showed me what to do. Kept the same advance on me even when I tried to mess it up. Creepy, but funny.¡± ¡°Could you follow it? Was it accurate? Did it help?¡± The programmer rolled his eyes at her trying to make it a game, but didn¡¯t comment on it since it gave relevant data. Knowledge of what had to be done came from SG, but how to move her body came mostly from him, as his body was more similar to hers. The tail part was added from Aran¡¯s own template, but the movements and perceptions had to be extrapolated. It all congregated in a guide, projected in her mind, who had to be followed. It had taken a few tries before reaching that point. The tester thought a moment before answering. ¡°It felt weird. I could¡­ see it, even when I looked elsewhere or didn¡¯t want to. And I could see the whole thing even when I focused on specific parts. It was disorienting at first, but I got used to it easily. It¡­ helped, but mostly at the start. After a few demos, I knew what to do, and it was more distracting than helpful. And annoying. Worse than tutorial windows in a replay. Impossible to ignore, hard to focus on it and me at the same time. It still helped with the timing and the aim though, so yes for accuracy, I guess. But it¡¯s more like a¡­ micromanaging personal coach? It didn¡¯t feel that different from learning under you and SG.¡± ¡°Excellent. Great start, and that could definitely be useful somewhere. Intrusiveness shouldn¡¯t be hard to fix, and I can already see how to make the guide accurate without trial and error. We¡¯ll try next time.¡± ¡°What about your stimulating thing? The main computer gave you the green, right?¡± ¡°The simulations showed no danger in using the right nanites for deeper and stronger stimulation, but reality has more variables than I know to set or even to look for. The main computer won¡¯t heed for what I want to do, only-¡± ¡°Only for what you tell it to~?¡± Aran sing-songed, earning a chuckle from SG. The foxy girl quickly followed; he had hammered that motto over and over again, it felt nice to turn the table back at him. Or maybe the dopamine rush from her recent exertion hadn¡¯t worn out yet. ¡°¡­ I still want to test it before actually using them on a person. I never used it for more than waking up or calming down. Minor hormonal production at best.¡± Zax grouched. ¡°And even without that, there¡¯s no reason to do something potentially dangerous before we¡¯re done with the normal method.¡± Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Normal, he says¡­¡± SG shared her amused smile. ¡°You know what I mean. We¡¯re not on a schedule.¡± ¡°Well, at least you have time now, right?¡± SG changed topic with a low voice. ¡°You¡¯re done with that ¡®secret commission¡¯.¡± Fingerless wings shouldn¡¯t be compatible with air quotes, but she made it happen. Somehow. ¡°It only took work hours. I kinda hope those stay busy. But yes, I¡¯m glad to be done with that. That was tedious and so annoying.¡± It had taken him three days of running in circles to stop trying to use the list to get specific names. He had no other choice but to move to plan B: making it interactive. It was pretty straightforward; copy the Shelter¡¯s census and set the bullet points as custom filters. Some tweaking was required, the census didn¡¯t account for everything, but it was overall more effective than making several reports with every possible combination of the points. Best luck to them if they wanted to give it sense. Why three days? His roommates¡¯ brain mapping took that long and he wanted to focus on his personal projects. Why wasn¡¯t it plan A? Because the customer expected specific names and coordinates of course, it had nothing to do with being paid by the hour or an eventual personal dislike! He would have taken longer, but he was running out of patience and creativity, and the rate wasn¡¯t high enough for him to push himself. He did have to justify the time spent, and he wouldn¡¯t lie about it. Even the written comment joined to his delivery was nothing but polite and professional, mentioning the number of people who didn¡¯t want to share their names and coordinates, along with how messy and ineffective their list was. He obviously didn¡¯t enjoy picturing a single-horned Resident¡¯s expression when she would read it among her peers either. Schadenfreude wasn¡¯t his style. He was glad he included a user manual though. He had worried it might come off as insulting, but it was moot since she didn¡¯t get to hear his explanations. In any case, she wouldn¡¯t come back anytime soon and he was free to focus on Aran¡¯s parkour lessons and other projects. Two days later, he received a notification of her passing the border. He hadn¡¯t bothered unsubscribing, but he didn¡¯t think it would come up again and he had no idea of her reasons. He had already received his payment in full, and she could contact him with her anonymous account. Maybe it had nothing to do with him? He could only hope. Hope, nope. She went straight for his shop. She even bothered with pleasantries before going to the meat of her business this time, although she still ignored the apprentice mostly hidden behind the counter. ¡°Excellent idea with the filters. Had we known it was an option, we would¡¯ve gone directly for that.¡± ¡°Had I known, I would¡¯ve made it earlier.¡± Zax assured. ¡°It would¡¯ve been more time and cost effective.¡± The hypocrisy is strong on this one. Or is it bad faith? ¡°We didn¡¯t get what we seek though.¡± ¡°I did the best I could with what I was given.¡± He casually defended with a shrug. ¡°I can customise new filters if you want ¨C as a separated commission of course ¨C but I can¡¯t promise it will help. I have a feeling you don¡¯t know much about what you¡¯re looking for either." ¡°Yes, you said that much in your comments.¡± She was unamused. ¡°Nonetheless, we could show tangible progress, so it wasn¡¯t a waste of time.¡± ¡°Glad for you.¡± A basic meal pill was less bland than his reply. ¡°We decided on another strategy.¡± Bathor produced a stash of paper from an inner pocket and waved it as if showing it off. ¡°This is a typical non-disclosure agreement. Please sign it and we can talk.¡± ¡°An NDA?¡± Zax¡¯s eyebrows rose sharply. ¡°You¡¯re going to tell me what this is all about?¡± A smirk was is answer. ¡°Do I want you to? You smile like I want you to.¡± He deadpanned. ¡°A possibility of becoming a Resident is at stake for you. I would say you do.¡± The handyman frowned and the sound of his apprentice¡¯s work jolted. Bold statement, but honest mistake. He glared at her unmoving smirk a bit, but quickly turned to the papers. He didn¡¯t care about such a reward, but reading should be more effective and less frustrating than playing twenty questions. The physical agreement also explained why she came in person. He¡¯d tell her about electronic signatures later. The NDA part was indeed pretty common, basically ¡®shut up or we¡¯ll sue you¡¯ with a long validity period and severe penalties for failure. No non-rivalry section as was often associated with such clause, but conditions on how they were to discuss the ¡®unspecified topic¡¯ and how he was to handle the information afterwards. He was required to accept their related commissions after the explanation was given, but he was free to have nothing to show if he could justify it. They didn¡¯t define what counted as a justification, so he could just say ¡°because I don¡¯t want to¡± and be done with it. He couldn¡¯t ascertain whether they had left that way out because they underestimated him, out of respect or by sheer incompetency like the list, but he doubted it was the first option and he could work with the rest. On the other hand, they had bothered to specify he was to keep any kind of personal thought or involvement out of his reports. It hinted at three points: his comments had an impact, they were less likely to underestimate him, and he wouldn¡¯t find strong allies in whoever they were. Besides, her assurance of a place in the Circle was a bold-faced lie. There was mention of it in the offered bonuses for the coming commission, among others and depending on how satisfactory his results would be. No specification of what counted as satisfactory, so he could get minimal payment for stellar results, or maximum payment for a blank report. It would be all on their whims. He had an inkling about which they planned to do. Good think he didn¡¯t care about any of the listed bonuses. Support and resources to guide his mutation might be great for a Resident and even most dotters, but not him. Once bitten, twice shy; he used his nanites to ask for advice on legal forums and licenced law-related accounts. It cost him units, but it was worth it. They revealed that given the lack of a specific clause and since he was a dotter, in case of dispute between the dot¡¯s law and the Circle¡¯s, the dot¡¯s took precedence. Interesting, but not immediately useful. Besides that, they confirmed he wasn¡¯t missing any loophole or trap. They still advised him to be careful with the actual commission contract he would receive afterward. He could still be screwed up that way, and it could potentially open loopholes in this one. Zax was generally satisfied with their terms. He had only one problem, and it wasn¡¯t something they could have known without making a serious effort to dig: ¡°This is a complete and well-thought contact, and I appreciate the care and respect that went into making it. However, I have one issue that should be solved beforehand.¡± It was a more personal matter, so he made sure to be as polite and formal as possible. ¡°We expected it. I have full authority to make amendments and corrections.¡± Anticipating a hurdle? They improved. ¡°You take several precautions to ensure secrecy and non-interferences. This one should be specified.¡± He pointed to the point in question. ¡°¡­ You don¡¯t want to report to us directly?¡± The negociant clarified, knowing full well that wasn¡¯t the issue. It would beat the point of everything. ¡°I have no issue reporting in person. However, I won¡¯t go in the Circle. If you want face-to-face, physical reports, it¡¯ll be in the dot. Such must be specified in this agreement.¡± ¡°That is a tall order you¡¯re asking for.¡± The Resident raised an eyebrow. She had never seen him so serious. ¡°How? Is transport such a hurdle in the Circle? No one has to know why you¡¯re coming, so it¡¯s not a matter of confidentiality. You can come separately and for unrelated reasons too; it would cover the tracks.¡± It all was said so matter-of-factly Bathor couldn¡¯t find anything to retort. Not that he gave her the occasion: ¡°You can also specify additional conditions if you want, for example setting the venue or the duration. I apologise, but I will be adamant on this point.¡± ¡°Is that a dealbreaker for you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid so.¡± Zax confirmed. Bathor thought about it, but quickly amended the contract. His report would happen in the dot, with at least one member of her team, and a non-exhaustive list of safety and confidentiality measures was added. A last round of network assisted checks, and the deal was signed. ¡°Finally. Let¡¯s go.¡± Bathor turned to the door. ¡°Go where?¡± Zax was confused but didn¡¯t move. He had just made it clear he wouldn¡¯t leave the dot. ¡°What do you mean ¡®where¡¯? Somewhere discreet we can talk. I have to explain the situation, and the sooner the better. You¡¯ve signed the agreement, so no turning back now.¡± She replied with authority. ¡°Already using it to try and pressure me into compliance, uh?¡± The handyman raised an amused eyebrow. ¡°A few problems with that. First, the agreement doesn¡¯t mention any timeline, so any hurry of my part would be courtesy, not contractual obligation. Second, I am still in my shop hours, and that time can¡¯t be expected to eat on my custom commission hours, as is specified in my general terms of business. Third, if you¡¯re in such a hurry, we can talk in my backroom.¡± He moved his head toward the door behind him. ¡°Not exactly a meeting room, but there¡¯s enough space for two to sit and talk, and privacy is ensured. Unless you need a visual support or something?¡± During his counter-offer, the Resident¡¯s severe expression had morphed in a displeased frown at his resistance, but ended with a forced neutrality when she couldn¡¯t counter his arguments. She wordlessly went in. Zax gave instructions to SG in case it took too long and followed with a sigh. He couldn¡¯t fathom how politicians managed to live like that; this kind of mind game was not amusing at all. He didn¡¯t feel like he had won anything, only relief that, finally, this charade was about to end. Chapter 46 - Incompetence His repeat customer explained her task and played the recording it was built upon. Listening to her without a saying a word, while also keeping a straight face, proved far more difficult than anticipated. At her own firm insistence, and since the NDA would definitely count it as the type of personal involvement he was to not share, Zax was forced to let her finish in silence. He would clear things up later. Congratulations to whoever had twisted his voice though; it was truly unrecognisable without losing clarity or emotion. Now, if it could be less cringe... ¡°There. Did you get everything or do I have to repeat it slowly?¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­ not sure.¡± His face was all twitchy; several emotions fought for the control of his face. ¡°Let me check: that recording is viral and causing trouble in the Circle.¡± ¡°Correct.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been tasked with finding the speaker.¡± ¡°Correct.¡± ¡°It¡¯s of the utmost importance to high ranked people in the Circle.¡± ¡°Correct.¡± ¡°You know that speech was recorded during an emergency in the dot, but nothing more.¡± ¡°Correct.¡± ¡°The actual author/editor/online poster doesn¡¯t know anything about the circumstances, the incident or the speaker.¡± ¡°Correct. We checked.¡± ¡°None of your other leads led anywhere.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Your list came from expert profilers analysing different parts of the speech, not knowing about each other and not allowed to confer with their colleagues.¡± ¡°Correct. You understood everything. Congratulations.¡± Funeral processions would be more joyous than her tone. ¡°¡­ I have a few questions.¡± The agreement didn¡¯t mention him asking for details, but he didn¡¯t expect her to be difficult at this juncture. Sunken cost fallacy and all that jazz. ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°What kind of trouble are you talking about? That speech was nothing special.¡± ¡°Irrelevant. We might tell the target, but it won¡¯t help you find them.¡± Why is that fallacy never on my side? ¡°True, but you might need help convincing them.¡± He sighed. ¡°We¡¯ll cross that bridge when the time comes.¡± She waved the concern away. ¡°All I can tell you is, some Kogitos anticipated a problem in the future, and our task is supposed to nip it in the bud.¡± ¡°Okay¡­ Second question, maybe related to your answer. Why the secrecy? Nothing sounded wrong, illegal or immoral.¡± ¡°Do you really need to ask?¡± Even without his nanites, he could¡¯ve told she was upset he dared to ask. ¡°Yes, I do.¡± He firmly insisted. ¡°Trying to tell as little as possible has only been a hurdle and I don¡¯t understand why you inflict that on yourself. You still ended telling me everything. Plus, it makes no sense!¡± He spread his arms in confusion. ¡°If your task is so important to the stability of the first Circle, your leaders definitely queried the Main Computer about it. Or at least the Enforcers, or someone high ranked. If they didn¡¯t help, you did a very poor job explaining the trouble. Like, really poor. In any case, they know, so no need for all the clumsy hush-hush. And if it really was important, they would¡¯ve added someone with some level of stealth to your¡­ task force. Or chosen one with someone like that already.¡± Bathor¡¯s frown deepened. She wasn¡¯t overjoyed at what he left unsaid, but he kept going: ¡°If you had told me earlier, I could¡¯ve helped you more without commission. Like with the bracelet.¡± Her mouth twitched at the reminder. ¡°I could¡¯ve told you¡­ if your target had an important role in a severe incident, they are likely Enforcers. Who you refused to involve from the start. They wouldn¡¯t up and leave just because you showed up either. Especially not without telling their superiors. Bye-bye secret.¡± Her brows twisted a hint, but she didn¡¯t interrupt. Fortunate, as he wasn¡¯t done: ¡°If not Enforcers, they are definitely licenced consultants or specialised helpers. Random civilians are not involved in those matters. In any case, Enforcers could identify them from their records of the incident. It¡¯s less common knowledge, but I could¡¯ve told you about the dot¡¯s helper list too. It¡¯s public, with their specialties and ways to contact most of them, but they¡¯d be stopped at the border if they tried to leave without warning. It¡¯s part of the conditions to be a licenced helper. Can¡¯t help if you¡¯re are not around, so give a heads up if you¡¯re leaving. They wouldn¡¯t be prevented from leaving, but at least they¡¯d be asked for expected dates and duration of the stay.¡± Her frown was forced back in neutral territory. Zax couldn¡¯t tell if she was shocked, processing or looking for counter-arguments. ¡°I could also have told you about this specific incident being common knowledge, with reports and news everywhere for any who look.¡± He added as an afterthought, displaying a few news outlets on his bracelet. ¡°Although-¡± Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°What!? Why would that be public!?¡± The Resident stood, startling him. ¡°Trees! We couldn¡¯t have guessed the rest, but it makes sense. But that!? Why would you do that!? What if there was a panic? A riot? Why isn¡¯t there a riot!¡± She pulled at her own hair. ¡°Nobody would stand for it! Not even the dotters! How-¡± She sprouted something even more absurd out of nowhere. He didn¡¯t know where to start, so he opted for the more personal part: ¡°¡­ ¡®not even the dotters¡¯? Are we famously pushovers or something?¡± The barely veiled accusation broke her out of her rant. Luckily for her, she still had enough of her mind to not answer. She sat back in silence to gather her thoughts. Zax waited a bit before trying to address her questions: ¡°A powerplant exploded. Part of a building, with people inside, reached the Core. That¡¯s kinda hard to hide. But why would there be a panic? The crisis was handled, the damages mitigated, the causes investigated and explained. I may be biased, but I¡¯d say the answer was quick and efficient. The founders would be proud. Follow-up steps have been made to prevent a repeat. It was an important upheaval in places, but it happened and is happening. Hiding anything would be in direct opposition with the dot¡¯s founding policy of transparency and cooperation, and would make people lose their trust in the system.¡± ¡°In the Circle, you can¡¯t¡­ We can¡¯t¡­¡± Her boasting reaction started strong, but immediately lost all momentum. She literally and figuratively folded on herself. He hadn¡¯t expected to break her with something so¡­ basic was not the right word. Common? Ubiquitous? Long ago, he had tasted the Residents¡¯ general views of dotters; but he had figured it was a natural product of their environment. Different, inherently even more against him specifically, but not necessarily malicious and not against each other. He wasn¡¯t so sure anymore. He wondered what thoughts were going around in her head, but at the same time he was afraid of what it might be. Quite a peculiar feeling. There wasn¡¯t much he could do about it however. He waited for her to calm down before moving the conversation forward: ¡°Is that why the secret? To avoid panic in the Circle?¡± He inquired in a soft voice. ¡°We can¡¯t let anyone know we needed a dotter¡¯s help. It¡¯s embarrassing.¡± She whispered without thinking. She was still lost in her thoughts. ¡°What?¡± Any shred of sympathy he had for her disappeared. The sudden sharpness of his tone snapped her back to the present. She realised what she had said, but it was too late to take it back. ¡°Er, I mean-¡± ¡°The First Circle, your home, is in trouble. You¡¯ve been tasked with finding a solution. And you wasted weeks. You refused the most obvious help you see. You rejected the most competent help when it¡¯s pointed to you. And you¡¯re still doing it! You keep getting in your own way and making things needlessly hard for everyone. Out of pride? Vanity is your first concern!?¡± He didn¡¯t rise from his seat. He didn¡¯t lift his voice. He didn¡¯t move a muscle. He even stopped blinking. The steadily growing venom in his tone was all the more bitter for it. The Resident flinched at each of his points, but she didn¡¯t dare to speak or turn her eyes away from his glare. In her career as a negotiator, she had seen and received her fair share of disputes, but never had she heard such vitriol in a single voice. It was so¡­ visceral. When he was done, heavily panting from barely restrained wrath, an oppressive atmosphere settled. Zax closed his eyes and took a deep breath, counted as he held it, and pushed his negative emotions out with the sullied air. It took a few cycles, but he eventually calmed enough to finish the discussion. All the while, Bathor kept as still and quiet as possible, afraid he would start again. ¡°Alright. That¡¯s why the secret.¡± He opened his eyes and continued like nothing special happened, although his voice was unmistakably more severe. ¡°Third question: what do you need them for? What do you want them to do about those¡­ future troubles?¡± ¡°¡­ we have a plan. I can¡¯t say more than that. It could affect the result. The details are not set yet. It¡¯ll depend on¡­ the situation. And the speaker.¡± For better or worse, it was the last relevant point he wanted to clear up. He wasn¡¯t in the mood for overquality, so he sent her away. His mental notes reminded him to tell her about electronic signatures. He had a feeling the commission wouldn¡¯t have to be sealed in person. By the time she left, she had regained some nerves, enough to try and pressure him for faster results ¡°since they had missed so much obvious points¡±. He assured her that was his plan, and to expect a report less than a day after the details of the commission were signed. He was glad he hadn¡¯t interrupted her at the start. Some part of her retelling hadn¡¯t made sense, but his readings didn¡¯t detect any form of deceit. He would¡¯ve never found the missing piece on his own. And what a piece it was. Incompetence. Not only in an individual, but in a whole group working together. It felt impossible, but it truly fit with the inconsistencies. How did they ever accomplish anything? Actually, did they ever? And they were entrusted with solving trouble at the scale of the whole Circle? They had been told so, and they might even believe it, but he wouldn¡¯t. If it was true, the Circle deserved everything they had coming and then some. Most likely, whatever troubles had been anticipated weren¡¯t that impactful. Or didn¡¯t have much to do with his speech. Or with him. Or were too far away in the future. In any case, he wouldn¡¯t regret fleecing or making things difficult for those customers. ¡°What happened? Are you alright?¡± The concerned voice of his feathery friend sounded as soon as he left the backroom. His gloom was plain for all to see. He sighed as he went back to his regular work, explaining what he could. It wasn¡¯t difficult; he wasn¡¯t allowed to comment on the commission, but his feelings and the commissioners were free game. SG didn¡¯t know how to react to what she heard, neither did the few customers passing by with the right timing, but venting helped him clean his heart. In a surprising display of efficiency, he received the first draft of the commission that very afternoon. Already signed, of course; by the anonymous account on Bathor¡¯s bracelet, that clearly stated was not legally binding. Zax was unamused, but chose to interpret it as another display of inadequacy instead of trickery. Hanlon¡¯s Razor is busy today. He first redacted the remunerations, removing the lower options and those he wasn¡¯t interested in ¨C at least they respected the list of the NDA ¨C increased all the unit amounts, and added the one reward that truly interested him: body templates of advanced mutants. With varied mutations. The variability of similar mutations could be an interesting study later, but growing his nearly non-existent database of advanced mutations took priority. If he could progress on that front, it would make the annoyance of dealing with buffoons worthwhile. A bit. He checked the rest as he did the NDA, joined a note detailing how to have a legally binding signature, and send his revisions. He had expected some resistance or complaints at his edits, but none came, and everything was in order, over and done, before the shop was closed. ¡°What happened? Are you alright?¡± D¨¦j¨¤ vu hit when Aran joined them. Zax felt better, but the social butterfly still managed to spot his remnants of gloom, somehow. The monumental laughing fit that followed the explanation came as a surprise, but it ended up spreading and engulfing all three. It was the anti-stress he needed. When they finally began their workout, any unease was but a memory. Chapter 47 - Certification The foxy girl had been worried about what the ¡°falling forward¡± lesson would be; the idea of letting herself fall flat on her face didn¡¯t appeal to her, even on soft ground. Luckily for her, the gym had everything they needed to train safely, except for a coach. Mobility and acrobatics weren¡¯t popular hobbies in the dot, but the trio wasn¡¯t going at a high enough level for it to be a problem. SG caught more attention than usual too. All the gym rats would naturally be curious about an advanced mutant¡¯s athletics; even if their mutation was not obviously related to physical prowess. They were quickly disappointed. For better or worse, her anatomy wouldn¡¯t work with standard equipment. It was frustrating, as she could technically use some, but she was still unable to. Her wide talons couldn¡¯t fit equipment made for feet; and when she didn¡¯t need to actually grasp something, her large wings bumped into the surrounding machines and gym-goers. A downside of the dot¡¯s needs for spacial efficiency; everything was close to something. Fortunately, Zax was a regular, and his subscription included a discount on the fancier features of the sport¡¯s centre, including the use of a private, fully customisable room. ¡°Do you really need the discount?¡± Aran queried as they set the various mattresses they would need. ¡°Even before the Core thing, I could probably afford the full price, especially if I don¡¯t do it often. It¡¯s just too expensive for a hobby. Those rooms were made for workouts requiring specialised equipment and exercises. Which usually means more weight, speed or space than the common package can handle. The base price is high, but only serious and dedicated sportsmen would need it-¡± ¡°And they already have a subscription anyway.¡± ¡°- or mutants with relevant mutations.¡± ¡°Who can naturally afford it.¡± The tailed girl completed as they put the last foam cushion down. ¡°Or already have one. Relevant mutations should mean relevant experiences and goals. AKA lots of practice. A better discount too. I only have the basic stuff for coming regularly, for a long time, but not that often.¡± ¡°Once a week is not that often?¡± ¡°Not to them. Some come every day. That is worth a more expensive subscription.¡± ¡°Is it¡­ alright to be here?¡± SG timidly asked from the side, dragging a giant staircase of foam in place. ¡°Hm? What do you mean? I paid for it.¡± ¡°¡­ Too expensive for a hobby.¡± ¡°The full price, yes. With the reduction ¨C since I already have it ¨C it¡¯s largely worth three hobbies at once.¡± Both girls eyed him, confused at the number. ¡°Free running, coaching and nanites.¡± They nodded at his count. ¡°Enough dawdling now. Run around.¡± They started their warmup with the usual laps, and the lesson was on. It proved particularly difficult for Aran. She simply couldn¡¯t get used to the sight of the ground getting closer without reacting. Zax wanted to dull her instinct by repetition, but SG had a different approach. The key was to channel her gut reaction into appropriate reflexes. Have her mind focus on her surroundings and let her body work itself out. Easier said than done, and it would require more than a few repetitions, but it led to great results. It even gave her a headstart on future lessons, those requiring falling from higher. The gamer girl was learning, maybe not as fast as he had planned, but in a direction Zax would¡¯ve never seen on his own. He was looking forward to see the result. In that regard, it wasn¡¯t that different from trying to orient an activation, he pondered. Same starting point, same environment and exercises, different process and result, heavily related to goal, worldview and personality. Voicing that thought at the end of their session earned him two glares, as amused as they were exasperated. On the nanite side of things, Zax made great progress in analysing neural signals and patterns. Turned out, reading the whole body at once greatly helped to sort the myriad of pulses the human brain constantly fired. It sounded obvious when spelled out in such a way, but it had taken many repetitions of Aran trying and failing to hold back her unvoluntary reactions before it dawned on him. Both her and SG having strong instincts had probably helped too. Which might be a problem if someone with basically no instinct like him tried to use a skill book made from theirs, but it would be a concern for far into the future. Furthermore, the not-so-chaotic-anymore patterns inspired him for a new experiment. The brain sorted the memories of the day and assimilated the events, including skills, during the dreams. He had studied the question as it was an obvious venue of exploration, but he didn¡¯t have a way of using it so far. He explained his idea on the way back; to make the nanites reproduce the relevant part of the day¡¯s pattern during paradoxical sleep, or stimulate it if it occurred naturally. It would have to be an automated process, as it was too complex to follow and the timing too precise for a human mind. To his great bewilderment, both girls readily agreed. ¡°Really? Just like that?¡± His head moved back and forth between them. ¡°Er, yes? Is there a problem?¡± Aran frowned. ¡°No, no problem. It¡¯s just¡­ I thought there¡¯d be some resistance. We¡¯re talking about doing something with your brains, in your sleep.¡± His face didn¡¯t know what expression to settle on. ¡°Meh.¡± The tailed girl shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re fiddling with it when we¡¯re awake anyways.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not fiddling.¡± He defended. ¡°Yet.¡± He looked away. ¡°Anyway, I trust you not to do anything bad. At this point, it doesn¡¯t matter if I¡¯m awake for it or not.¡± ¡°I trust you.¡± SG nodded when questioned. Her voice was soft, but her eyes and tone firm. ¡°I see¡­¡± His expression finally settled on an awkward smile. It felt warm. The handyman hadn¡¯t known their trust meant so much until that point. ¡°Ah. I still want to know what you¡¯re doing and the results too.¡± Aran amended. ¡°Haha, of course.¡± Zax laughed it off. He had already found what patterns he wanted to impress, so the programming was straightforward. He also made some for SG, adapted from his own, for a new clothes alteration skill he had planned to teach her the next day. However, he didn¡¯t include the parts involving his perception or motor functions. He hoped to only impart the ¡®what¡¯, not the ¡®how¡¯, so that their difference in anatomy wouldn¡¯t be a problem. He would see if her brain filled the blanks itself, and since it wasn¡¯t a particularly physical skill, he didn¡¯t remove that much. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. He didn¡¯t explain, only mentioned that he did something, to not pollute the results. It might be wiser to do the same experiment as on Aran, but for now, succeeding once was more important than repeatability. It would be relevant data regardless. *** When the new day started, SG found herself in the position she always found herself in; curled on herself, wrapped in her own wings, in the centre of her mattress. She had given up on using bedsheets, they always ended up torn up and/or tossed aside. She and Aran didn¡¯t feel any different. The experiment didn¡¯t seem to have affected their behaviour or their sleep. They didn¡¯t remember dreaming either, which was normal. It could mean something for SG, but her nightmares were already at an all-time low, so ¡°nothing conclusive yet¡±, according to Zax, and ¡°normal for a single session¡±. Nanites put aside, she was still impressed at the state of her life. Her own room. Her own bed, Zax and Aran had insisted she see it as such. Someone she could trust enough to let them put something in her brain, and not lose sleep over it. Sleep without nightmares too. It still felt unreal at times. But it was true. It was her life now. She nearly smiled on the way to the shop, enjoying the now familiar sights as she was ferried away on the light road. They tested for changes in her skills at the shop, as part of her normal training. No notable changes, but her mentor expected it. Whatever he had done ¨C was doing? ¨C on her was unrelated. The rest of the morning went by normally. The number of customers kept steadily rising, but she could handle them now. Sometimes even without stumbling her words! Around the end of the morning, he taught her how to use a new setting on the main adjusting machine. The goal was to combine the basic operations she knew to add a precise and delicate motif on each piece, with specific variations per piece and on different fabrics. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ more complex than usual.¡± She couldn¡¯t help voicing. ¡°Is that really an order for a beginner adjuster?¡± ¡°Nope!¡± Zax beamed. ¡°I didn¡¯t have to touch anything after you for a while now, so it¡¯s time to raise to difficulty level. Congratulations!¡± The apprentice blinked, but quickly checked her profile on her bracelet. She hadn¡¯t looked at the ¡°Professional Life¡± tab since she had first opened her account, but she remembered its depressing message: [ Nothing yet. Tap here to see training or certification recourses. Tap here to seek work opportunities. ] It had been replaced by two new sections; [Professional Experience] mentioning her apprenticeship, and the one she was looking for: [ Formations and Diplomas ] [ Clothes adjuster * (Certified) ] One star for level one; a beginner who can reliably handle every possible basic alteration on standard fabric. Entry level, in every point. Tapping the tip of a claw on the certification opened details, including her teacher and his company, dates and duration of her training and even pictures of pieces she had worked on unassisted. ¡°Taking them is part of the quality check and warranty. Uploading your profile is part of being your teacher.¡± He shrugged when she wordlessly asked about those. The certification was dated to this very day. ¡°I thought it would take months?¡± The winged girl whispered. She was still processing the news. ¡°It usually does,¡± Zax nodded. ¡°but it¡¯s mostly because teachers tend to rely heavily on VR before letting their students touch actual machines. As immersive and realistic as it can be, you can¡¯t be certified until you¡¯ve had enough hours of physical practice and can reliably produce a certain level of quality.¡± The apprentice turned back to her holo-screen. ¡°Most frustrating, I assure you. But necessary; not everyone manages to transition into real life that well. Overspecialisation, and having more students than machines don¡¯t help either. I don¡¯t teach enough to invest in VR training materials, and they wouldn¡¯t know how to handle you anyway, so we bypassed that hassle.¡± Zax concluded. The newly certified adjuster softly nodded, her thoughts still frozen. Zax let her stew a bit more before putting his hand on her shoulder and catching her eyes in his: ¡°Congratulations SG. You did it.¡± His smile beamed with pride. It wasn¡¯t much. Merely a certification for the most basic tasks. Three words on a screen. A weight she had never realised flew off her shoulders. Many people would be able to do the same, better and more easily, but still¡­ From now on, nobody could deny her relevance. Not even herself. She had a skill that helped the dot function. She had everything she needed to be a productive member of society. She had a place in the dot. She did it. She had divorced from her past She was not¡­ Harpy truly was no more. She had moved on. She glomped her friend. Her wings ensnared him in a thigh embrace as she buried her face in his chest, softly sobbing. The square hose that was bracelet fell on the ground. It¡¯s bounce and travel along the counter punctuated the silence of the shop. Zax let her, patting her back in silence, until she stopped on her own. He hadn¡¯t expected such a strong reaction either, but he could understand it. Eventually, she pulled back from him, emotionally drained but feeling lighter than before. It must have shown, as Zax proposed to let her rest a bit. As nice and patient as he was as a teacher, he was pretty demanding too. ¡°Work hard, play hard¡± seemed to be his subconscious motto. It might be contagious too, because she insisted on continuing where they had left off. Zax was hesitant at first, but after watching her eyes, he respected her wish. ¡°I already combined alterations on a single piece, what¡¯s the point of that setting?¡± She queried. ¡°You did one operation after the other. Sometimes you had to follow a sequence, changing the background colour before adding patterns, but it could be changed and there was no mix. This setting will let you add a coloured pattern, or draw in the background rather than add a thermically-glued picture that will fall off after a few intense washing cycles. It opens more complex operations, higher quality, more cost effective, that kind of thing. A lot more possibilities, and you can charge more for it.¡± SG nodded her understanding. She tended to forget her training included the business part of the shop. ¡°Once you¡¯ve figured all the possible combinations, you¡¯ll be a level two adjuster.¡± She¡­ wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about that. She was grateful for his help, and for what this skill meant, but did she want to make it her whole life?... not really, no. Try as she might, she couldn¡¯t see herself do it all day, every day, for years. It was just¡­ too dull. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Zax added when she subconsciously frowned. ¡°I¡¯ll keep updating your profile, but you don¡¯t have to specifically aim for it or anything. It¡¯s just the next step of your current qualification. You¡¯ll focus on something else once you¡¯ve figured it out.¡± Right, she still had to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. It was daunting, but she couldn¡¯t think about it yet. The lesson continued. She could barely understand some of his explanations, and he seemed to be doing it on purpose. Did he want her to ask? To think about it on her own? She was still unclear and unsure when he made her try on her own, after a single demonstration. Still, under his watchful eyes, she tried. She hesitated at first, but when the machine started purring, something clicked in her. Like a switch had been flipped on, she smoothly performed one step after the other, and the detailed butterflies were spread on the fancy jacket before she realised. ¡°Wow, did I really do that?¡± She was impressed at her own talent¡­ right until Zax asked strange questions and gave her the details of the experiment he had done on her. Any disappointment at her actual lack of talent was overshadowed by awe at his progress. If someone found a way to create a real-life skill book, she didn¡¯t doubt it would be him, but she didn¡¯t think he would be that fast. It was only the second round of tests! They spent the rest of the work day trying various combination settings and testing any potential effect of his experiment. It was amusing; seeing him so excited over something he could do in his sleep. When it was time for Zax to focus on his confidential custom commission, he let her free reign of her time. She usually was to follow with him in his expeditions, or keep her training if it wasn¡¯t possible. From talent or nanites, she had gotten enough ahead of his schedule to allow a break. She could even leave, go to the entertainment centre, or a park, or a walk, or home. She didn¡¯t want to just up and leave Zax, but her head was still heavy with everything that had been crammed in it. Dream learning or not, she had to focus quite a bit, and she didn¡¯t feel like continuing. Following Aran¡¯s model for that kind of situation, she took her place behind the counter, assuming cashier duty for the rest of the day, and playing games between customers to unwind. The stool saw a lot more use than it had in a long time. When the workday was over, Zax left the backroom with a suspicious grin plastered on his face. The apprentice wondered what it was about, but the NDA blocked him. Not for the first time, she wondered what had happened to make him so¡­ petty when that Resident was involved. Their meeting hadn¡¯t been that bad, and he already had his fun about it. She was annoying, but also a customer. A well-paying customer even. Schadenfreude wasn¡¯t Zax¡¯s style, and he never treated difficult clients differently. Which tended to annoy them more. He didn¡¯t know her before... Was it something unrelated? Venting on unrelated people wasn¡¯t like him either. She couldn¡¯t figure it out, but she didn¡¯t want to ask him. He and Aran had never asked about her own past, she wouldn¡¯t pry. As they went to meet with their tailed friend, Zax asked her to not mention her experiment, to avoid affecting their common student¡¯s results. She readily agreed. After seeing the effect on herself, SG couldn¡¯t help being curious about what it would help her tailed friend to do. Chapter 48 - Assimilation ¡°That! Was!¡± ¡°Unexpected.¡± ¡°AWESOME!¡± Aran proudly threw her fists in the air. Zax¡¯s falsely calm interjection was ignored by the panting but ecstatic girl. ¡°What¡­ what was that?¡± SG queried from the side. She too had seen what happened, but she couldn¡¯t comprehend it. None of them did. It didn¡¯t make sense. Zax reviewed his recordings of the event, trying to parse an explanation. ¡°For her nanites, I did¡­ basically the opposite as yours. Impressing only the part of a pattern related to motor function, balance, that kind of thing. It was mostly hers, based on previous lessons, but compensated with yours. The idea was to improve a pattern she already had, to learn more easily.¡± ¡°Totally worked!¡± The tailed girl cheered. ¡°I didn¡¯t even know I could do that!¡± ¡°No, it was a failure.¡± Zax denied. ¡°A very instructive one, with impressive results, but not at all I was aiming for.¡± ¡°I did a flying backward somersault! I just ran and grabbed the branch like usual, threw myself forward like usual, and did a full three sixty in the air like it was usual. And I even landed on my feet. How is that a failure? Even if I slipped and fell just after¡­¡± she awkwardly added the last part. ¡°Was that somersault what you wanted to do?¡± ¡°No?¡± ¡°That¡¯s how. You did that by folding then opening your body, with perfect coordination and timing. Very different than any movement you trained so far. How? What were you thinking?¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t, it just came naturally! I was bored and wondering when we¡¯d get the exiting stuff and my body moved on its own.¡± ¡°¡­ You still fall pretty often, you can rarely land close to your best shot, and you were bored anyway?¡± It wasn¡¯t relevant for the experiment, but Zax wanted to make it clear. ¡°Er, it sounds bad when you say it like that¡­¡± ¡°Can you do it again?¡± He went back on topic. ¡°Of course!¡± Came the confident answer. She couldn¡¯t. She was simply too excited to go back to the same mindset. Meditation was proposed and immediately rejected as ¡®taking too long¡¯. She quickly lost patience and tried to force it, but it only ended up with the two coaches proving their worth as parry. She would have been severely hurt if they didn¡¯t catch her in time. Worse, she didn¡¯t grasp how harmful her behaviour was getting. Zax and SG jointly agreed to stop the lesson there for the day. She wouldn¡¯t learn until she calmed down, and Zax already had a lot to work with. Failures taught more than successes and all that. She didn¡¯t fancy that decision one bit, and she wasn¡¯t shy about it. ¡°One more, I got it!¡± ¡°I almost had it!¡± ¡°I know I can do it!¡± ¡°Oh, come on!¡± ¡°I¡¯m almost there!¡± Against their best judgement, they gave her two more tries before stomping down. Partway through their post-workout stretching, Zax received a notification. He mentally opened it, per habit, without pausing. The chuckle it tore from him forced him to explain what he could: ¡°Some clients are not happy with the results of their commission or my general attitude, so they refuse to pay more than the minimum they are contractually allowed to, and they left the worst review they can.¡± ¡°How¡¯s that funny?¡± Aran was nonplussed. ¡°For starters, it¡¯s an anonymous and confidential commission, so the review is hidden. No one else will see it until they make it public.¡± ¡°That does seem pointless.¡± She smiled. ¡°Is that¡­¡± SG attempted. ¡°Yes.¡± Zax laconically nodded. ¡°And since the account is anonymous, and likely temporary, the one comically negative review from it would look more like trolling than an actual opinion, for anyone looking. It happens.¡± ¡°Now, that seems counterproductive.¡± The two girls chuckled. ¡°Also, they¡¯ll need me in the future. No way around it, all their commissions so far made it crystal clear. I was clear about it too. If I was a betting man, I¡¯d say they didn¡¯t even look at my last report yet, they¡¯re just being petty and cheap. So, when they come begging for my help, I can use it to my advantage. Since my results are so bad, they can¡¯t be using them, right? So how come they are here? And if they insist ¨C which they will, they¡¯ll have no choice ¨C they will have to pay way more than the initial maximum payment to get me to listen to them. And then some to get me to accept working for them. And then some for the actual work. It¡¯ll be fun.¡± His grin in the end sent a shiver down their spines. Even Aran¡¯s; it was worse than the night they met, when he had played her like a fiddle. The two girls exchanged a worried glance, then back to him: The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Zax¡­ are you¡­ alright?¡± The foxy girl questioned. ¡°Of course.¡± He blinked. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I?¡± ¡°Petty and cheap.¡± SG whispered. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s¡­ you never struck me as the vindictive type.¡± Aran put it more diplomatically. ¡°It¡¯s not even lowering yourself to their level, at that point. It¡¯s dragging things out and kicking when they are down.¡± ¡°Enjoying it.¡± SG completed. ¡°Scary.¡± ¡°Sorry¡­ They just hit a sore point, I guess.¡± He gave them the same excuse he gave himself. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be fine. It¡¯ll only happen like that if they are asking for it. Let¡¯s talk about something else.¡± Not exactly reassuring. The girls exchanged another glance, but didn¡¯t pursue. Later that night, when Zax compared their neural patterns from the lesson, he spotted interesting similarities, leading him to a theory about what had allowed Aran to move beyond her level. His next experiment would test it. If it worked, it would make things a lot smoother for this project. If not¡­ well, back to theory-crafting. He was so engrossed in the preparation; he almost missed the alarm for his C-nanites study hour. The next day, SG worked some more on combining basic adjustments. Zax gave her a simple, but actual order to work on as warm up and to refresh her mind, then gave her spare sheets for training and let her have her way with them. ¡°Let your creativity and your curiosity run wild.¡± He ordered. The mass commissions from before had made the use of training sheets unnecessary for her basic training, but there was no avoiding it anymore. There were simply too many possible combinations, it was more effective to let her mess around and see the results. It was a popular training method. The safety rules were already drilled in her, she wouldn¡¯t hurt herself without actively trying. He could only hope the relation with his experiment wasn¡¯t too obvious, and that she wouldn¡¯t try to force something like Aran. He couldn¡¯t do anything about it though, so he let what would happen, happen. He kept an eye on her brain readings, on the side of his HUD, as he worked on another order; a custom mod for a VR shooting game. Ocular mutations were uncommon, and adapting software for a new depth perception was a lot trickier than it sounded. Zax was pondering if the shooting game he was modding could have led to the mutation he was modding for, when one of his alarms rang, signalling a potential match between SG¡¯s current patterns and the previous night¡¯s experiment. He briefly turned to glance at her work from the side, but didn¡¯t interrupt or make sudden moves. His attention was fully on her readings however, and they showed promising results. Outwardly, she was testing compatibilities and making connections way beyond her current level; working and refining his favourite combos. Internally, her brain was working through his patterns, moving from one to the other on their own, now that she had filled the missing part. His bias influencing her development could be a pro or a con as a learning tool, but it was perfect as a proof of concept. The brain truly is a strange organ. Presenting it with sequentially more complex patterns, did let it fill the missing parts and extrapolate further steps. It wasn¡¯t instant learning, but it made complex processes a lot easier to assimilate. What kind of mutation would help the process? Hinder it? Could it be used to guide an activation? No... His main hobby wasn¡¯t relevant here. Better not dwell on it. But now that he thought about it¡­ living and acting like you already had a mutation made it more likely to happen, or at least something similar, as did visualisation through virtual reality. His nanites were merely tricking the brain into thinking it did live a specific experience. It wouldn¡¯t be strange to have the same effect on activation as actually living it. He would have to mention it to his test subjects. He would never forgive himself if he changed their mutations on accident without consent. Meanwhile, SG was admiring her last creation. It had taken a few tries, but she had done what she was aiming for. ¡°Very impressive.¡± Zax honestly commented. He wouldn¡¯t call it a masterpiece, but had he not known better, he would have thought it had been made by an expert, with years of experience fiddling with the adjusting machine for more than clothes. At first glance, it seemed like a drawing of the current summer park. Or maybe a random sunny forest. Looking with an adjuster¡¯s eye, one would notice it was actually three overlapping drawings; one made with printed coloured forms, one made with layered textures, and one with stitching of various shapes and thickness. Each worked well on its own, giving a clear but simplified version of the landscape. Together however, they enhanced each other seamlessly, bringing the whole to a new level of vibrancy. It was also something he had never done on his own, so it was impossible it came from his patterns. She confirmed it when Zax had her explain her process. Her first failures let her fully assimilate the skills he had imprinted in her, and she had used those to build up on the parts he hadn¡¯t included, with trial and error, mixing it with her own skills. Anticipating future needs wasn¡¯t something he had insisted on, but it was an essential part of her thought process. His conclusion; she had simply¡­ integrated the neural patterns, and assimilated the skill. Made it her own, somehow, in a mere few hours. The programmer was starting to suspect she was uniquely compatible with this learning method, but he didn¡¯t have enough statistics to compare to. It may not have been instant, but she had earned years of repetitive learning, in less than a day. Explaining it all to her didn¡¯t lead to a loss or rejection of the skill either. Her next works, albeit less complex, were not any less technical. Would she be able to use it for an actual order? They were sitting on the ground in front of the machine, looking for a commission requiring the level she had displayed, when an annoyingly familiar Resident stepped in the shop. Accompanied, this time. In fact, it was Bathor who was accompanying the other. There was no mistaking the nervous glances she cast between the newcomer and him, or the withdrawn body language, or the half-step behind she maintained. The newcomer was a Resident, but only her clothes, similar to her peer, displayed it. She was a tall and slender woman, with a wide heap of curly, rainbow-coloured hair and dark skin. She was certainly eye-catching, but the only feature that couldn¡¯t be natural was her hair, and it could be from competent dye and styling. Had she pretended to be a dotter, only her lack of bracelet and her general cluelessness would have betrayed her. Her sneer made her less approachable, but it was only her resting face. It was Zax¡¯s second impression anyways, for she didn¡¯t move a single facial muscle when her horned colleague pulled her back and hurriedly whispered something in her ear, when her eyes swept over the shop, or during the five steps it took her to reach him at the counter. Once in front of him, she dissected him mentally as she had the shop prior. Only then did her expression change for a self-assured smile, somehow managing to not lose the sneer: ¡°Greetings, Zax. My name is Loozy, Kogito representative of the fourth branch of ¡®Bumper Mediator Services¡¯. I assume you heard of us already?¡± ¡°No, never.¡± Zax took the wind out of her sails immediately, but she had properly introduced herself, on her own. It placed her a notch above Bathor, so he didn¡¯t let her think he was just being difficult for no reason: ¡°We rarely get news from the Circles here, and when we do, they are usually outdated. I heard it was due to politics, or maybe mismanagement. Dunno. I never checked.¡± He continued conversationally, raising a shoulder at the end. The implied slight against the Circle¡¯s leadership was purely factual; it was as polite as he could be. He would still be unbending in his payment demands, but as long as she was acting like a decent being, so would he. It shouldn¡¯t last long, anyway. Chapter 49 - Free Discussion Bathor could only watch, powerlessly, as her colleague unwittingly sabotaged the mission even more. ¡°Our situation must evolve too fast to be updated live.¡± The multicoloured woman defended. Are you crazy? When the asymmetrical woman had received the dotter¡¯s report, part of her had been disappointed he did take less than a day, while the rest was shocked, and finally ecstatic at the news. He had a name! Finally, a lead! A solid one too, with solid and easily provable premises, timetables, and everything they needed to be sure of the result. It ended with a name, a picture and two professional addresses, digital and physical. The face was strangely familiar, but after all the dotters she had been forced to address, it wasn¡¯t surprising. With barely visible mutations, they were all so alike in appearance. It had shaken things up in the team. No one expected a result anymore, sending her in the dot was literally the last resort. Her many back-and-forths merely annoyed everyone; they couldn¡¯t claim there was nothing left to try yet. They were all ready to call the mission a failure, take the punishment, and move on. It had taken them most of a day to collectively check the report¡¯s useability and decide how to proceed. First obvious step: bring the target, this ¡®Zax¡¯ guy, to their office in the Circle. The others would hammer the rest down while a small team left to convince their target. Bathor would¡¯ve come alone, but now there was something to gain from stepping in the dot, so they all wanted a piece. They wouldn¡¯t admit it, but her recent visits made the idea less appalling too. If she could manage, so could they. Nevermind their main argument to send her alone: ¡°Only you can do it. You¡¯re the most suited for the task.¡±. Hypocrites. They eventually settled on sending Loozy, the rainbow-haired Kogito, with the actual negotiator as support. Allegedly, because the goal was not to negotiate, but to convince the nobody to be smart and come along nicely. Pathetic excuse, but she had been outvoted. Her experience and bracelet did prove useful, leading them to the place without issue. A few steps after the border, for no apparent reason, unease settled in her stomach, growing with each step. The passers-by didn¡¯t cast more than a glance their way, which matched her previous visits. She looked around. The streets felt familiar, but most looked alike anyways. They arrived at the non-descript door and her unease was at its strongest. She was so distraught; she didn¡¯t notice her colleague stepping past her to assume her leading position. Only when the door opened and she glanced inside the shop, and their target, did she recognise him. It was the commission guy! She hadn¡¯t paid attention to the picture ¨C who used those anyways? A single mutation could make it useless ¨C and she hadn¡¯t bothered to pay attention to his name. Did she even know it before? In any case, there was no mistake; he was the one she had commissioned, who had given them their target¡­ himself? What? Why did- No, no time to dwell on that! She barely managed to grab Loozy¡¯s shoulder in time. She tried to warn her, but the taller girl didn¡¯t let her finish. She couldn¡¯t even blame her; convincing a dotter to go in the Circle, even in passing, should be a no brainer. No, she could only blame herself and watch as her colleague teased and subtly insulted the dotter they needed, who wasn¡¯t shy about fighting back. Here it comes. The single horned woman braced herself for the incoming disaster. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± The dotter¡­ Zax, took his time. ¡°The legal codex orders the Circle¡¯s governing body to update the dot weekly, with three official reminders one week apart before the dot is allowed to cut off their supply of 3G¡­ there are systems, programs and schedules, in place to update everything bit by bit, if people do their job properly¡­ the average update frequency is monthly, give or take every four weeks¡­ yes, moving too fast, that¡¯s the most plausible explanation.¡± He eventually nodded. Uh? Uh?! He had accepted it!? He had just taken the blow and not fought back? Somehow, it didn¡¯t feel like a victory¡­ She might have missed something, because Loozy¡¯s assured smile morphed to a passable customer service one. She immediately switched topic too: ¡°Bumper Mediator Services is a company gathering representatives from the Five Great Families, in teams of equal representation. We coordinate joint projects involving two Families or more.¡± ¡°Nice. I didn¡¯t know such a company existed. Who do you answer to?¡± He even seemed genuinely interested. ¡°As I already said, in my team I represent the Kogito.¡± ¡°I mean, your company as a whole.¡± The dotter amended, without losing his casual tone. ¡°¡®Mediators¡¯ can¡¯t depend on a side of what they mediate for, but independent organisations are basically forbidden in the Circles. And if the Families could cooperate enough to share a large company equally, they wouldn¡¯t need one for mediation. Let alone one big enough to have at least four branches. So¡­?¡± ¡°We are less mediators than coordinators nowadays. The name just stayed from the group¡¯s foundation, when it was still small and independent. Which is allowed by the way, there¡¯s nothing illegal about it.¡± Loozy frowned at the end, but she quickly hid it. ¡°Sure, right until they start actually working or gaining momentum. Then it¡¯s either being bought, or being forced to close or disband for a variety of reasons. I said ¡°basically forbidden¡± because it¡¯s not explicitly illegal, but de facto, everything is done to ensure it does not happen. Or doesn¡¯t last long, at least.¡± His matter-of-fact tone was more chilling than any indignation he could have displayed. Bathor was close to relieved that she wasn¡¯t expected to carry this discussion. ¡°Now you¡¯re going too far.¡± The Kogito slightly frowned, but didn¡¯t lose her professional tone. Her teammate was impressed, actually. Patience wasn¡¯t exactly her strong point. ¡°Am I?¡± He blinked. ¡°Can you think of a single organisation, who isn¡¯t a sub-branch or a subsidiary of a Family company, who actually does something? But fine,¡± he sighed and shook his head. ¡°I can see it¡¯s a sensitive topic. Let¡¯s forget about it. Just answer the question please. Who does Bumper Mediator Services answer to?¡± He reminded. ¡°¡­ Each representative has their own line of command, made of members of their Family belonging to the company, but I won¡¯t bore you with the details.¡± Loozy responded after only a brief hesitation. Nice move. Giving the information while softly closing the topic. Did she read about rhetoric recently? ¡°Five chains of command per team? That¡¯s¡­ a delicate balance, hm...¡± He took a thoughtful expression. ¡°Can¡¯t be easy to move up. Or in any direction, really. Nevermind. So! What brings employees of such an important company in my humble shop.¡± Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Bathor was so glad they went back on topic she didn¡¯t even care he immediately spotted the main hurdle of working for this company that advertised itself as ¡°a place where every voice counts¡±. Ha! ¡°We have reasons to believe you will be useful to us. Come with us in the First Circle.¡± ¡°No.¡± immediately came the flattest answer ever answered. ¡°What? What do you mean, no?¡± Loozy was plumoxed. It was amusing when it happened to someone else. ¡°Just that. No. No ambiguity. I won¡¯t go in the First Circle with you.¡± ¡°¡­ Why!?¡± Her shock was entertaining, but she couldn¡¯t be blamed. It was impossible to expect such a reaction; most dotters would blindly jump on any occasion to get closer to the Circle. Even Bathor, who was sure he would be difficult, didn¡¯t expect such a brutal and instant refusal. ¡°Because in a single sentence, you¡¯ve been suspicious, unsavoury, and you overstepped your boundaries.¡± Contrasting to the Resident, Zax kept his conversational tone. ¡°¡­ How?¡± The dark-skinned woman was calming down, but the lack of verbosity showed to those who knew her, she hadn¡¯t fully recovered yet. He frowned and leaned his head on the side, as if pondering how serious she was, but answered nonetheless: ¡°¡°We have reasons to believe¡±. He raised a finger. ¡°That¡¯s the vaguest phrasing I can imagine. After you gave so much information about your employer, it doesn¡¯t feel natural or accidental. It was intentional. Which makes me think however you found me, underhanded means were used, if not illegal ones. Suspicious. Which doesn¡¯t bode well for whatever you want from me.¡± Bathor joined Loozy in confusion, albeit for different reasons. How could he not know how they found him? Did he forget her face too? For some reason, the idea made her feel better. And gave her a glimmer of hope of salvaging the situation. He wasn¡¯t done yet. ¡°Which also makes me doubt what you said about you or your employer. I already confirmed this company exists, so that¡¯s that. But even if you are actually employed there, I cannot be sure it relates to your task. Still suspicious. Secondly, ¡°you will be useful to us¡±.¡± He raised a second finger. Wait, how did he confirm? He hadn¡¯t touched his bracelet. ¡°Makes it clear you want to use me, as a tool, not for me to join you as partner or ally. If I follow, I¡¯ll be used, then thrown away. Back to my starting point, in the most optimistic scenario. Unsavoury. Not exactly a reason to refuse, but definitely a reason to not blindly follow. Third,¡± A new finger joined the others. ¡°¡°Come with us¡±. Clearly a command, although I never agreed to work for you. Or with you. Overstep. Doesn¡¯t bode well for what it means to be under your orders, either.¡± It might have been her imagination, but Bathor nearly heard a ¡°know your place¡± towards the end. A heavy silence followed the longwinded rant, but the off-putting dotter didn¡¯t let it set for long: ¡°Now, if you¡¯re not going to address those points or buy anything, please leave. You¡¯re not customers and you¡¯re holding the line.¡± He stated, grabbing a package from under the counter and putting it on the side. The Residents turned around and were spooked when, indeed, another dotter was behind them, waiting for who knew how long. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t mind me.¡± The older, green-splotched woman waved her hand. ¡°I¡¯m not in a rush, and that was impressive. Did you really get all that from just a few words?¡± ¡°That, and my personal experiences about Residents and how the First Circle does things.¡± The handyman nodded with a personable smile. ¡°Regardless, here you go.¡± He pushed the package toward her. ¡°Your reviews state what satisfies you the most is our timely service, and I wouldn¡¯t want that to change.¡± Experiences? Bathor frowned, watching the exchange. He had to know Residents from the Core incident, not to mention herself, but experience with the Circle¡¯s management? The horned woman felt something worth digging into. Loozy had other preoccupations though. She didn¡¯t appreciate a random nobody stepping around her with a ¡°excuse me¡± like it was nothing, taking her package, and leaving with a ¡°Thank you, good bye¡±. Her patience was running low and the mission wasn¡¯t anywhere close to being accomplished. On the other hand, it did give her enough time to peel his words back. ¡°So your main issues are that I was not explicit and¡­ polite enough for your tastes?¡± She confirmed first. ¡°It¡¯s not a matter of taste, and courtesy is less an issue than respect, but that¡¯s the idea, more or less.¡± ¡°A certain speech, recorded during an incident in the Core, spread like wildfire in the Circle. It¡¯s a sensitive topic, so I can¡¯t say more about it, but my Family¡¯s experts projected serious trouble in the future because of it. We put several commissions in the dot to find out where those troublesome words came from, and they pointed towards you. We don¡¯t know if you were aware of being recorded during that incident, but we would appreciate it, if you could come to the Circle, and help us put an end to the problems your elocution caused. Please, come with us. You¡¯ll be well compensated for your time and effort.¡± Her factual explanation was neutral, but some words at the end felt forced, as if saying them aloud was more painful than tearing her own nails out with her teeth. From the mix of pity and disgust on the dotter¡¯s face, he didn¡¯t miss it either. ¡°Are your concerns assuaged?¡± ¡°They are, but others have risen. The details of the Core incident are public knowledge, but fully anonymous. Especially for civilian units. You shouldn¡¯t have been able to trace it back to anyone in particular. You didn¡¯t even ask to check if it was me. You¡¯re already sure of it.¡± ¡°We know it.¡± Loozy smirked, vindicated at not being on the defensive anymore. Bathor was on the verge of giving her questions up. ¡°Which mean I now have a solid hint of illegal activities. Now, I am not accusing you of anything, but could I please see those commissions that led you to me, and your information on the related dotters?¡± ¡°Of course. We didn¡¯t do anything illegal.¡± Loozy played along, motioning to a confused Bathor. ¡°According to my colleague, the guy was an asshole anyway. She¡¯ll be glad to bring him trouble.¡± ¡°Will she, now?¡± He raised an eyebrow and a knowing smirk toward her. They had printed the report in the Circle, and brought a copy, but the horned woman forwarded it from her bracelet instead. She had noticed his weird reaction to paper exchanges, so it would hopefully make her more relatable. She also widened her eyes and vehemently shook her head at the question, drawing a silent frown from the multi-coloured woman. Zax opened the report on his holo-screen and pointed to a long number in the header: ¡°Look. See that commission ID number? It is a necessary feature to identify anonymous commissions without revealing the commissioner¡¯s identity. And this one match an anonymous commission I did recently.¡± ¡°What?¡± She was angry now. ¡°Is that a joke? You wrote that? You claimed it was you? And now, you¡¯re telling me you were never allowed to accept that order in the first place? You just wasted our time!? For a PRANK!?¡± ¡°Not at all. I am, indeed, the one who spoke those words. I just needed proof that you were the anonymous commissioner.¡± ¡°Wasn¡¯t it obvious from the start?¡± Her hand flew to the bovine woman behind her side. ¡°It was obvious the second I saw Bathor.¡± He glanced at the flabbergasted woman. ¡°But I only had circumstantial proof at best. Now I have undeniable evidence, and we can freely discuss that commission without me risking a lawsuit. Well, almost. Apprentice?¡± He turned his head to something behind the counter. ¡°We¡¯re going to discuss a topic covered by an NDA. Please go in the backroom, there isn¡¯t enough place for three in there. You can rest, or play a game, or whatever. Do as you wish. Just don¡¯t break anything.¡± ¡°Can I leave?¡± Came a low feminine voice. ¡°Nice try, but the workday isn¡¯t over yet. Just enjoy your extended break.¡± He smirked at the hidden girl. The Residents heard shuffling and moving, but the mysterious apprentice stayed out of sight. They exchanged a look. They had no idea someone else was there from the beginning. ¡°She¡¯s shy.¡± Zax smiled at them. ¡°So, where were we? Ah, yes. Freely discussing. If that report sent you here, it means you used it and relied on it. Correct?¡± ¡°Correct.¡± ¡°When you arrived, you didn¡¯t ask if I was actually the one you were looking for. That means you fully trusted that report, correct?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know it I would go that far, but we had no reason to doubt it.¡± ¡°That means it¡¯s a trustworthy report, with sufficient and accurate information, that helped you advance your project. Correct?¡± ¡°Correct?¡± Loozy and Bathor didn¡¯t understand where he was going. ¡°And yet, I had an awful review on that commission. Literally the worst possible,¡± he displayed it on his holo-screen. ¡°With matching compensation. So, if I did such an awful job, you shouldn¡¯t be here. If you¡¯re here, I did a great job I was underpaid for.¡± The new silence was more awkward than heavy, and didn¡¯t feel any better. Both Residents remembered that review and the associated payment. How could they not? It had been one of the few points they had all readily agreed on; to give a lesson to that dotter who had dared to make things difficult for them. Who knew it would turn against them? ¡°Also, just in case you were not aware, all this conversation was and is being recorded from the start, and can be used in a trial. So? What do you think?¡± The Residents struggled to find something to say to salvage this disastrous twist, even knowing it was a lost cause. Zax watched, grinning, his gleaming eyes drowning their meagre hope in a sea of darkness. Chapter 50 - Regrets Zax rarely had the occasion, or a reason to be petty, but when he did, he didn¡¯t hold back. SG¡¯s worried eyes when she left made him consider he might have gone too far, but he would put it straight later. The rest of the negotiation went smoothly, although calling it a ¡®negotiation¡¯ was excessive. Sure, they tried to downplay their need or his worth, but truly, it was only him stating his demands, and they could do nothing but nod and promise ¡°It will be done¡±. They amended their review and payment on his commission, with interest. They had to send seven Residents to his shop, with advanced and varied mutations, for a body scan. Less advanced mutations would be tolerated, if they were special or unusual. He used Bathor as an example for that case. Their resistance caught a second wind when he mentioned nanites, but he wouldn¡¯t budge no matter what, and assuage any safety concern they might have. A pity the Circle¡¯s daily life was such a mystery to him; he won¡¯t know what to ask to find a reason for his future subjects¡¯ specifics. Once he was done explaining the basics of his process, Bathor went back to a part of his conditions he hadn¡¯t expected to be a problem: ¡°Special mutations, I can understand, but what did you mean ¡°like mine¡±? It¡¯s nothing to be proud of¡­¡± ¡°She¡¯s right, she¡¯s just incomplete. What¡¯s the value in that?¡± Loozy insisted. Is that how you see her? As a person? None of the Residents understood, which didn¡¯t give him much hope about getting any, but he explained regardless: ¡°Did I say anything about pride or shame? I don¡¯t care how the mutant ¨C or you ¨C feels about their mutation. I was talking about rarity, or bending the ¡°established¡± rules. You have an asymmetrical version of a normally symmetrical feature. You see more advanced mutants more often than I. How often do you see people who are naturally notably asymmetrical? Colour and fur length notwithstanding.¡± The hobbyist paused to let them actually think about it. ¡°For horns, it¡¯s either one in the centre,¡± He put the back of his fist on his forehead, one finger pointing up front, ¡°or two on the sides.¡± Two hands mimicking on the side of his head. ¡°Some have more than two, but the axial symmetry is maintained, even if not perfect.¡± He drew an imaginary vertical line splitting his body and face in half. ¡°The horns themselves keep the symmetry too. A straight cone? Can be in the middle. A spiral or a swirl? One per side, identical. Never a swirl in the middle. Never different horns. Although different pairs at once is not unheard of.¡± Bathor blinked, processing the news, and Loozy glanced at her dubitatively. ¡°You have a single bovine horn. Those usually come in one pair. It has its own symmetry too, so it¡¯s not out of question to grow one along the axis. Yours doesn¡¯t follow any of those rules. So, I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s something to be proud of or not, like any other mutation, but it¡¯s definitely special as far as mutations are concerned.¡± Zax concluded, before proposing: ¡°That¡¯s why, if you volunteer, you can be a headstart on your payment. You could better explain others what to expect too. Reassure them, show them it¡¯s harmless, that kind of thing¡­¡± ¡°What about me?¡± the rainbow haired woman queried. ¡°What about you?¡± The handyman didn¡¯t follow. ¡°How¡¯s my mutation?!¡± She exclaimed. ¡°Your general size, shape and skin colour could be the innate. Not your hair colour, but that could be dye. Is it?¡± ¡°No!¡± She seemed upset at the idea, for some reason. ¡°Bright colours are pretty common as onset of many mutations. That many colours are uncommon, but nothing special at your current advancement level. It could have been if there was a pattern, or if each hair alternated colours instead of each strand, but no dice, sorry.¡± He really was. It would have been a great opportunity. ¡°You mentioned being a Kogito, I believe? They are defined by cerebral or mind related mutations, with little but undeniable visible effects, usually in hair and eye colour and skull shape. Do you reckon that is your case?¡± The memory of Quinn poked his head, but he clenched it immediately. ¡°Of course it is! Enhanced memory!¡± She proudly raised her chin, as if expecting a certain reaction. As far as Zax could tell, it was a common feature, and it couldn¡¯t be a strong one if she was on the same social layer as Bathor. Didn¡¯t hurt to be sure, though. ¡°Neat.¡± He nodded. A tiny complement could go a long way. ¡°It¡¯s a common trait, but do you reckon you have a rare version? Like, extremely good even if only on specific points? You assimilate complex notions with a light sleep? You can recite or recreate something you heard or saw once, but only when you hear a specific song? Any quirks?¡± She didn¡¯t answer, but her eyes fled to the side. That was all the confirmation he needed. ¡°You can volunteer if you want, but I can¡¯t promise it will count for the compensation. Ah, but I can buy your scan separately, if you want? That way, it won¡¯t be a waste?¡± While she was hesitating, Bathor agreed to ¡®take one for the team¡¯. Loozy left them, muttering something about walking around to clear her head up. The shop owner used his foot to close the adjusting machine, still where they had left it, and brought it to the backroom with SG. He found her petting the branches of the miniature trees he kept in the back. ¡°We¡¯re done with the confidential stuff. You can come back if you want.¡± ¡°Are they gone?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m going to inject at least one of them for body scans.¡± Her eyes blew wide open, but she didn¡¯t ask the questions that were definitely flooding her mind. She opted to stay back for the time being. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Alright. I found a good commission for your training, but it¡¯s a bit late to start now and Aran should arrive any minute now. You can take a look if you want, or keep playing around, or relax a little. I have a lot of leftover training sheets. Maybe make something for Aran? I¡¯m sure she¡¯d appreciate. Don¡¯t forget to put the machine away when you¡¯re done.¡± He proposed as he took two B-boxes plus one adapted for and equipped with C-nanites. He dubbed them C-Boxes. His apprentice smiled and nodded. He mirrored it, added a foldable stool to his load and went back. The process went smoothly, although Zax took his time, explaining the different injection options, along with his rules for an uneventful scan and subsequent purge. The only troublesome one was to avoid activating her 3G, under penalty of having to reimburse the destroyed nanites, having nanite junk floating in her body, and still owing him a body scan. A single night and day without absorbing 3G or exerting herself to the limit shouldn¡¯t be an issue. She wouldn¡¯t even have to keep a B-box close, either. He would have never let them bring it in the Circle anyway; it would¡¯ve never survived. Instead, he programmed the equivalent of half a box of C-nanites, spread between skin layers and assuring the same function. He couldn¡¯t do that with his ordinary nanites, they were too large to hide and they interfered if they stayed in the body with the scanning ones. This method was slower, as the nanites wouldn¡¯t be able to connect with a B-box or a bracelet to help processing and stocking data. They took longer to install too, but that was mostly because it was Zax¡¯s first time using this method. He was confident in his mastery, but it never hurt to be careful. While the lack of box was the most obvious benefit, the main one was the utter permeability of living tissues against disruptive fields. Unless his subject activated, he was sure to get all his irreplaceable helpers back. On the other hand, if she did, he would lose everything he had given. Bathor made small talk as he worked, most likely to control her nerves. Her choice of topic was most surprising: ¡°You mentioned experience in dealing with the Circle¡¯s management?¡± The dotter had his suspicions, but her question confirmed they hadn¡¯t bothered with even a minimal investigation or background check on him. It might have been too much to ask when he was merely an annoying subcontractor, but they knew he was their main target for a day now. Simply coming here, without any preparation, was nothing but neglectful and unprofessional. Do your homework, people. Regardless, if helped with her nerves during this safe but delicate procedure, he would entertain her: ¡°When I was a child, there were attempts to make joint projects between the dot and the First Circle. The idea was to strengthen the exchanges and facilitate integration when someone mutated enough to move out. Potentially have unmutated Residents come in too. I don¡¯t remember the details.¡± ¡°Oh, I think I remember that. Didn¡¯t work well.¡± ¡°Of course not, the sabotages, manipulations and lies made sure we would never be welcome, much less feel welcome. One of those projects put children from our school and from one of yours together. I was one of them.¡± ¡°You got lucky, but it didn¡¯t work out for you, uh?¡± She ignored the first part of his answer and took a sympathetic tone. ¡°I didn¡¯t ¡°get lucky¡±.¡± Zax shook his head, still working his nanites in her system. ¡°Any pupil who asked was taken. You¡¯d have more trouble finding someone my age who didn¡¯t participate in one project or another. I¡¯d say it worked out well for me in the end. I would¡¯ve never been able to go far in the Circle, even if it¡¯s for unrelated reasons nobody knew about back then. Dodged that cell strain, as they say.¡± There was a lot to unpack here, but she couldn¡¯t take her time, so she asked the first thing that came to mind: ¡°¡­ Do you regret it?¡± ¡°Well, the backstab had a heavy influence on who I am now, as a person, but as an adult, my only regret is how poorly I handled it at the time. Then again, my guardian, my friends and my therapist all said I handled it better than expected of a nastily disabused ten years old. Can¡¯t be too hard on myself.¡± He shrugged at the end. The Resident didn¡¯t know how to react, and his casual tone didn¡¯t help. She had heard of those exchanges when she was young, but they hadn¡¯t had a strong impact. She hadn¡¯t heard of children being involved either. And one had to undergo therapy because of it? Most dotters his age had been involved? She was definitely missing something. ¡°¡­ Betrayal?¡± She pursued. ¡°I can¡¯t talk about it.¡± ¡°Too painful? Sorry-¡± ¡°Not anymore; my therapist was most competent. I had to sign an NDA. Sorry, but you were not my first.¡± His neutral expression briefly broke into a joking smirk. ¡°All I can give you is an identification number.¡± ¡°Please, do.¡± She stopped talking there. Whatever had happened, he saw it as a betrayal. Nothing pleasant, and dwelling on the topic could only upset him, even if it wasn¡¯t as sensitive a point as she thought it should be. It wasn¡¯t required, but the thought was appreciated. He gave her the number when was done. On paper, because of course she wanted it on paper. As Bathor nervously patted herself to check for¡­ anomalies? Zax went to fetch the rainbow haired woman. The lack of notification told him she hadn¡¯t left the shop, but he didn¡¯t expect to find her playing the showdown version of Quick Hand with his foxy roommate. ¡°You really can befriend anyone, can¡¯t you?¡± He called when their round was over. Loozy won by a bit, but none on their scores were exceptional. ¡°Oh, hi Zax. I just saw the angry Miss and proposed to play your demo to vent. I think it worked. Nice outfit by the way, I didn¡¯t know you sold that. Normal ones, I mean.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t, and I never had a buyer for fabric made of nanites. She and her colleague came with those clothes. I think it¡¯s normal Circle fashion. Could be a uniform.¡± He raised a shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re a Resident?¡± Aran¡¯s head swivelled in Loozy¡¯s direction. Now that Zax paid attention, he could indeed see a bit less tension in the latter¡¯s posture. She wasn¡¯t as relaxed and confident as she projected when she first entered, but better than during the ¡®negotiation¡¯. Does she just hate losing? ¡°Why is a Resident here?¡± The tailed girl followed before an answer could be given. ¡°Wait, two Residents?¡± She twisted her neck to try and spot the other Zax mentioned. ¡°They need me for a commission.¡± ¡°Hold it right there! You¡¯re still under NDA, so keep quiet!¡± The taller woman snapped at him. Still in a mood. ¡°Oh, the super-duper secret commission you can¡¯t say anything about?¡± Aran excitedly pursued. ¡°It¡¯s not super-duper secret, just normally secret. And no, it¡¯s a new one we have yet to discuss and that I never agreed to ¡°keep quiet¡± about. It may be related to the confidential one, or not. I¡¯m not allowed to confirm or deny anything about it. I can¡¯t confirm or deny anything someone else says about it either.¡± He added with a smirk at the Resident who had let it slip. The rainbow-haired woman frowned back, but didn¡¯t say anything. The tension was back to its previous level. Perhaps more. ¡°So, we¡¯re done, with Bathor. Did you make a choice? Your scan now, or another later?¡± ¡°I have nothing to prove and I refuse to let you put those things in me.¡± She bristled and hastily left the shop, calling her teammate on the way. The slightly bovine woman followed more calmly but without a word, lost in her thoughts. ¡°Wow. What was that?¡± Aran wondered aloud. ¡°Not sure. Low self-esteem issues, then running away to avoid being confronted about it?¡± Zax idly shared his and his nanites analysis, but didn¡¯t pay much attention to it. He might never see her again, and he was more than ready to move on. ¡°Okaaay¡­ well anyway, it¡¯s parkour time!¡± Aran was on the same wavelength. Chapter 51 - Patterns and Templates The summer park could probably be called their main training ground at this point. As they did their prework-out warm up, Zax idly wondered if they would keep coming to this one for the other seasons, or if they would move to the current spring park once this one turned to autumn. ¡°So! The experiments had noticeable results on SG, and Aran showed there is an effect, but harder to pinpoint.¡± The test subject nodded. Warm ups had been followed by basic exercises, but Aran didn¡¯t make a new accidental figure. ¡°The difference in results could be due to individual variations, or because of the type of skills you¡¯re learning. I used the same imprinting principle for both of you, but with different patterns. It may be a premature conclusion, but we have proven we can make learning significantly easier, through a form of sleep preparation.¡± ¡°Awesome!¡± Aran cheered. ¡°We¡¯re still far from any kind of instant teaching, but it¡¯s a good starting point.¡± Zax concurred. ¡°There are many ways to refine and improve the process, but for now I think it¡¯d be better to teach a full skill over teaching it faster. What do you think?¡± ¡°You¡¯re asking us?¡± Aran leaned her head sideways. ¡°It¡¯s your idea we¡¯re working on, and it¡¯s both of your brains we¡¯re tinkering with.¡± Zax stated. ¡°And the three of us will probably be the only ones who ever use it.¡± He added as an afterthought. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to publish something, eventually?¡± Aran quizzed, SG nodding along. Their project wasn¡¯t supposed to be a secret, and even for a dotter, Zax was pretty open about his experiments. ¡°I already am.¡± He nodded. ¡°So?¡± Even if they created the perfect formula; who else would think it was worth having nanites in their brain? His roommates exchanged a glance before answering as if this interlude had never happened: ¡°Fully succeed once before trying to do it better. Seems coherent enough.¡± Aran answered as SG noncommittally raised a shoulder. ¡°Great. What I need the most is patterns. Neural patterns. I have made a few so far, but only for specific knowledge or specific movements.¡± He nodded to SG and Aran, in that order. ¡°We still have a lot of work to make a working whole.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Aran blinked. ¡°We have two experts here. Can¡¯t you just¡­ copy-paste? Like you did so far?¡± ¡°First off, I¡¯m not an expert, and I never was. I knew some free running and I practiced a few years back, but that¡¯s it. I don¡¯t have much to teach, and my patterns are way shallower and more complex than SG¡¯s. Not good for a template.¡± ¡°More complex? Shouldn¡¯t the expert have the complex one?¡± ¡°You¡¯d think so, but no. The more the brain does something, the more efficient the associated neural paths. They start complex and all over the place, then as you do it more it improves them. Removes the irrelevant parts, makes shortcuts, that kind of thing. Makes the whole more efficient. So, an expert¡¯s would be simpler and more efficient than a newbie¡¯s.¡± ¡°Uh.¡± Zax couldn¡¯t think of a gaming parallel she would resonate with, probably something about experience points, so he moved on: ¡°Second, I can¡¯t just ¡°Copy-Paste¡±. No two brains are the same, remember?¡± ¡°Ah, right.¡± That was why mapping the brains was so important. ¡°So what I copy has to be adapted before I can paste it. It¡¯s not at all like converting sensorial data to VR, and there¡¯s a lot of room for error there.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± ¡°I think that¡¯s where the accident came from, by the way. SG, you can do a lot of different things starting with that one jump, right?¡± Zax turned his head back to the feathered girl. She was startled but nodded. ¡°And you were thinking about those when you watched Aran? Even if fleetingly?¡± Second, more hesitant nod. ¡°And since you¡¯re so skilled, the patterns for those are so simplified I couldn¡¯t tell the difference between you looking at Aran¡¯s move and you fleetingly thinking about the other moves. So the patterns got mixed up. I can¡¯t tell if what I made had different bits and pieces her brain put together, or if the pattern itself is like a seed that grows on its own, or if it¡¯s something else entirely. Whatever it is, you somehow picked up on it enough to actually perform it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m awesome!¡± ¡°You both are, in strangely complementary ways.¡± Zax nodded. ¡°So¡­ what now?¡± the tailed girl enthusiastically asked. ¡°Now, I have one last thing I want to try. Then we¡¯ll focus on getting clean patterns. Expect a lot of repetitions.¡± ¡°Awww, sounds boooring! It works well enough when we do one move a few times.¡± Aran half-jokingly pouted. ¡°I am not the kind of guy who¡¯s fine with ¡°well enough¡±, especially not when I¡¯m tinkering with my friends¡¯ brains.¡± Zax curtly replied. ¡°It had a ¡®neat¡¯ side effect this time, but it was uncontrolled. Potentially dangerous.¡± ¡°Your nanites won¡¯t hurt anyone. You have more failsafe than the Main Computer.¡± She waved his concerns off. It wouldn¡¯t do. ¡°The hardware will not hurt you. But yesterday was an accident, which proves we have no idea what we¡¯re doing. I have no idea what I am doing!¡± He didn¡¯t raise his voice, but he spoke with a rarely seen intensity, making sure not to blink. ¡°This time, you did a cool figure. Next time, you could hit your face with your knee, mid vault. Uncontrolled fall, above uneven ground. Or you could try and land on your talon instead of your foot; trip and fall assured. And there¡¯s nothing that says it won¡¯t happen outside the lesson either. You could just be walking in the street, and a half-glimpsed flash in your peripheral vision will make you throw your arms to the side. Pushing what- or whoever is next to you. Dangerous for yourself and others. And you work around people who can¡¯t take care of themselves. You may not only break things in their homes.¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Can that¡­ really happen?¡± The girl was shaken. Zax had slowly gotten closer, but her voice seemed to come from far away. He let himself blink once before answering: ¡°I have no idea. And that¡¯s precisely the problem.¡± He stepped back to let it sink in, allowing Aran to look down. When she looked back up, he tempered his own warning: ¡°Now, the risks I mentioned are real, but still unlikely. For now. It¡¯s only been a few nights, with a few similar patterns. That¡¯s why I don¡¯t make us stop yet. But the further we go, the greater the effect, and the greater the risks. That¡¯s why we better build strong foundations now, when accidents don¡¯t have major consequences and we can experiment more freely. Or else, when people get hurt, we¡¯ll be left scrambling to fix things and we¡¯ll only make them worse.¡± A glance at SG showed her own concern. She¡¯d heed his words too, but maybe too much. He didn¡¯t want to worsen her quickly healing self-isolating tendencies: ¡°For you, I didn¡¯t include any motor functions in your imprint. That was the point. Unvoluntary movement shouldn¡¯t be an issue. If there are unwanted consequences, it¡¯ll be something like¡­ constantly thinking about the adjusting machine, or compare everything to it. Hyperfocusing on it at inappropriate times, maybe? You can¡¯t hurt anyone but yourself with that.¡± SG lowered her eyes to her wings, rubbing them and shuffling her talons awkwardly, but she eventually raised her head and nodded, relieved. ¡°Now, do you both want to continue? Or should we stop here and teach free running the old-fashioned way. You can change your mind anytime.¡± The pair moved a few steps back to discuss, but ultimately decided to keep going. The basic idea was simple: the brain activated the same pathways when performing an action, when thinking about the action and when seeing the action performed, albeit at different intensities. All three of them would execute the same action one by one, with the other two watching and actively thinking how they did it or would do it. All three would also watch recordings of the performance, from several point of view, including first person perspective. It was embarrassing, but SG was the one who mentioned the latter option. It had totally slipped from Zax¡¯s mind, but since all three had brain maps and nanites, they could all record and read recordings of their sensory input. They could all transmit and convert them for VR, so some reverse-engineering could convert it back in someone else¡¯s input. It was an excellent support for conventional teaching too, showing the teachers what the student did wrong, and showing the student what a better execution, with a first-hand experience. The hobbyist would use the resulting readings to narrow down on the pattern to imprint. Aran couldn¡¯t perform more than basic moves, and Zax couldn¡¯t follow SG on the advanced ones, but observation and visualisation still gave exploitable data points. For his last experiment, he activated the impression while Aran was performing, but she was hit with nausea, vertigo and heaving. Zax immediately stopped and made the tailed girl lay down. Whatever it was passed in a few seconds, her vitals went back to normal, but the two teachers didn¡¯t let her up. Luckily, it didn¡¯t take long to find out what went wrong: ¡°Not brain damage.¡± He sighed in relief. ¡°Only motion sickness.¡± ¡°What? Like when babies are carried on the light road too long too often?¡± The tailed girl sat up, unstopped this time. SG followed, looking curiously. She had never heard of that ailment. ¡°Exactly. In hindsight, it makes sense. Motion sickness comes when the brain struggles with opposing inputs. Usually, the inner ear detecting constant movement, but the eyes not seeing any. My imprint produced a similar effect, with similar reactions.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good, right? That means I can just take pills and it¡¯ll be fine.¡± ¡°No. Well, it can be good, maybe, but taking pills won¡¯t solve the issue.¡± Seeing the curiosity in one of his friend¡¯s eyes and concern in the other¡¯s, he explained further: ¡°They work by supressing one of the conflicting inputs. We can¡¯t do that.¡± ¡°Drat. How is it good then?¡± Aran queried. ¡°It shows your brain tried to do¡­ something, with my imprint. They interacted. It could be a hint to bypass dream learning, a step toward direct transmission. I¡¯ll need to experiment first. A lot- not on you.¡± He added with a frown when Aran opened her mouth. ¡°A light imprint had such an effect on you, and I¡¯ll have to do a lot more than that.¡± ¡°Good luck finding volunteers.¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°I was thinking lab mice. More expandable. Yes, I know how callous it sounds. Hopefully there¡¯s a supplier in the dot. If not, I¡¯ll have to pay a visit to the Circle. I¡¯ll look it up later. It¡¯ll be more work than taking care of trees, I bet. For now, priority to finding patterns.¡± That incident still gave further hindsight on the patterns. They now had three layers for Zax to juggle: sensory perceptions, motor functions, and other. Each with their own sub-categories. He had a feeling some of those would eventually become categories of their own, especially from the ¡®other¡¯ section, but that was not here nor there. All in all, it was a productive evening. The next day, Bathor arrived mid-morning, with two volunteers for his templates; one with a slight insectile mutations, the other with an extended reptilian one. She asked he remove her nanites first, to show the others she had indeed gone through the same and not suffered from it. It was a smart idea, but he first checked if his tiny workers were still intact and had accomplished their task. They had, so he launched the extraction sequence his subject had settled for: via her sweat ducts. They would seep through her skin like sweat during an exercise. For comfort and convenience, he only used her non-dominant palm; he had her grab an absorbing pad connected to the empty B-Box they came from, to be swapped with the C-Box when the time came. It made the process longer, but it helped reassure the witnesses. Bathor didn¡¯t feel anything beside a moist hand. Zax put the used boxes in the decontamination drawer of the backroom, moved around where SG had relocated to avoid the Residents, and took what he needed for two more injections. Unfortunately, it turned out one of the newcomers wasn¡¯t mutated enough to count toward his compensation. The fully scaled man tried to refute it, but it was undeniable: his was merely a tweak of his epidermis, giving the appearance and texture of scales. His whole body was covered, making it impossible to miss; but his current stage was mostly a cosmetic change. Common even in the dot, albeit less extended. He could still sweat, he had a few wrinkles, his scalp still had dandruffs even if hair didn¡¯t grow anywhere; he didn¡¯t moult or naturally loose old scales when new ones grew underneath. His mouth and diet were unchanged. In short, his mutation was literally less than skin deep. Zax still tried to buy his template, but a price in 3G couldn¡¯t compare to the blackmail of Bathor¡¯s team or the humiliation of ¡°not being advanced enough¡± for a dotter. The man had only defended his mutation¡¯s advancement out of pride, maybe fear, but he never wanted to be there in the first place. He left as soon as the horned woman confirmed he had fulfilled his part of the coercion ¨C with nicer words ¨C and assured they wouldn¡¯t reveal this new shameful secret either, for a price to be determined later. From the horned woman¡¯s smirk, Zax had a feeling he frequently bragged about his extended mutation. She was not particularly thrilled by this development either, but she couldn¡¯t deny the hobbyist¡¯s observations. The other ¡°volunteer¡± was amused right until the dotter¡¯s attention was on her. She was young, barely adult, with a slightly unnatural pink skin and unblinking compound eyes. Whether her mutation was advanced enough was debatable, since it was almost only her eyes, but insect-type mutations were rare enough and far enough from human anatomy to move the scales in her favour. Or Bathor¡¯s. The dotter made sure she had all the relevant information about what he wanted to do, what she was to do and not do, and so on. She was not blackmailed, just a pauper in need of units. She digitally signed an official statement of informed consent, and he started. ¡°Finally!¡± Bathor exclaimed. ¡°Why didn¡¯t I have to sign that?¡± ¡°The contract you signed already detailed everything. It would be redundant. We can still do so if you want.¡± Zax stated without lifting his eyes from his work. ¡°It might be better, now that I think about it. It¡¯s also a proof that you did give me my payment.¡± They were quickly done, faster than with the bovine woman. Zax mentioned to the girl she could spread word about him to her friends and relatives. He was willing to buy templates from them, if they were willing to come to his shop to be set. It didn¡¯t have to be his shop, but it had to be in the dot, for obvious reasons. She probably knew other destitute people who could do with more units. The advancement of the mutation only mattered for Bathor¡¯s payment; he would pay anyone willing to cooperate. They would have to reimburse the destroyed nanites if they couldn¡¯t follow the rules, he warned, but it should be a win-win for everyone involved. Chapter 52 - Recollection More than one week later, Zax was admiring the seventh and final template of his compensation. It had been a close thing; there barely was any visible outside effect. It had taken longer than expected, but it had been¡­ surprisingly smooth sailing. A cynical man would call it suspicious. Not every subject brought to him had fit the bill, but the selection had quickly improved. The dotter suspected the one-horned woman had found a specific place to find them, and she had merely refined her criteria. A half-glimpsed smirk, after one of his last rejects, made him speculate he had been used to spot someone with less advanced mutations than they claimed, but he didn¡¯t call it out. Living above your level was a great way to improve, but also extremely dangerous. No rare or rule-bending mutations in the mix, but Zax wasn¡¯t disappointed. One in seven was already excellent. The only suspicious part was how peaceful his test subjects had been. No ¡®accidental¡¯ activation, petty sabotage, major outburst for his rebuttals, or need to call the Enforcers ¨C which he kept his nanites ready to at any second. Not-that-strong words and storming out had been the worst reactions. One the other hand, no small talk either. It might have to do with Bathor never bringing more than two people at a time. It could have been a requirement to get whatever they had been promised. Zax could only guess, but his nanites had not been tampered with, and his templates were complete and accurate. That was the most important. His proposition to the compound-eye girl had been surprisingly fruitful too. One day after he took her nanites out, she had brought another person, who had brought another the following day. Four people had come so far, and others were on the way. Zax didn¡¯t keep physical units and they didn¡¯t have a bracelet, so they had to contrive a payment arrangement, but everybody had what they wanted in the end. Their mutations were not particularly advanced; some less so than the average dotter their age, but they were all over the place. They didn¡¯t mind small talk either, which gave him some idea of their lifestyle. Exactly what he needed to establish a database. Incidentally, he was already aware that social rank in the Circle was more heavily affected by the advancement of one¡¯s mutations. It was normal and obvious, and he had seen it first-hand. Mutations being generally more advanced or coming earlier, they had more effect on daily life and gave better marketable skills. It was why advanced enough mutations were required to move in from the dot, otherwise carving an existence wouldn¡¯t be worth the effort. However, he would have never guessed how difficult the natives Residents could have it. Once it was time to join the workforce, they better be mutated enough, or they¡¯d be lucky to get the lowest paying, most unwanted tasks. He had a hard time wrapping his mind around what was done to help. Meaning, nothing at all. Closer to the opposite, even. Even if they were numerous enough to have their own para-society. Although to be fair, no one could give him an actual number of people. Which was another concern on its own; a census wasn¡¯t hard to do. Disowning your less fortunate children was encouraged. Cutting ties with your parents was expected, else you dragged them down with you. Not doing so was not illegal per se, but it had serious social consequences. Even helping the ¡®rejects¡¯ was ground for losing a promotion, public scorn, ostracization, and so on. He would have never imagined that part of the First Circle, and it was obviously not advertised. He truly had dodged a bad strain, being born as he had. Still, as bewildering as it was, they would be a great source of common templates. Better than the dot had ever been, ironically, and he had a few ideas that would make things better for everybody. His personal studies and the database for free-running neural patterns were progressing smoothly too, although he had yet to acquire lab mice. There was a potential supplier in the dot, but he was not in a hurry. Recording SG as she demonstrated all her moves, one after the other, as she thought about them, wasn¡¯t exactly fast or effective, but they didn¡¯t have a better idea. Relations started to appear though, hinting at the possibility of filling blanks without all the pieces. It would speed things up, once reliability was proven. Translation would be a hurdle though. ¡°There¡¯s¡­ something I¡¯d like to ask before we start.¡± Bathor¡¯s hesitation pulled Zax out of his musings. ¡°I investigated on the number you gave me.¡± She fidgeted on her stool, a recent addition for all the extended visits he expected. ¡°You did?¡± He blinked. She had asked for it, but he hadn¡¯t believed she would actually follow through. Not only doing her homework, but facultative questions she had asked on her own. That earned her some respect. ¡°Hm.¡± She lightly nodded. ¡°It was a mess. I don¡¯t know what to think.¡± What is there to think about? She quickly lost way more respect than she had earned. [ Warning : Significant behavioural deviation ] His nanites pointed him to something he had missed: she was putting herself in a vulnerable position, willingly, on her own. She had never displayed her discomfort so openly, either. Her body language had gradually shifted through the week, becoming more subdued. Something was wrong. He should have noticed before, honestly: ¡°Law is supposed to be a structured affair. That mess feels, wrong, somehow. I could only get this.¡± She took a paper from her inner pocket, showing an addendum to a decade old NDA, allowing her to discuss about the solved case. Even as she did so, she radiated hesitation, but she had spent too much effort to stop now. Zax read the whole paper, looking for loopholes and retroactive inconsistencies, found none, and saved it digitally without external signs. ¡°That should be enough to let me tell you everything, but first, what do you already know?¡± ¡°Only what you said last time, and what¡¯s written here. It was you versus KGT studios, one of the biggest software companies of the Shelter, and it was nearly ten years ago. I contacted their legal department, but they have yet to answer. Normal, they have a long queue. I tried looking in the general archives. That was the messy part. Convoluted procedures, departments who don¡¯t communicate between each other, overworked, understaffed services¡­ At first, I thought it was related to some top-secret business, but everyone confirmed it was always like that.¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Zax was aware of the seemingly useless complexity of legal tasks in the Circle, but he thought it was just how their system was, that he was lost because he was thirteen at the time. Knowing even trained adults were lost, and only dot related cases were affected, didn¡¯t feel better. ¡°Did you investigate in the dot?¡± ¡°Er, no? Why?¡± ¡°It was a case involving a company in the First Circle and a dotter. You looked at one side and didn¡¯t find much. Looking on the other side seems a logical next step to me. We have laws, legal procedures and archives too, you know? Nevermind.¡± He sighed. ¡°You actually tried, so I¡¯ll give you a summary, as I recall it. You can look for the exact details later. Just put the ID I gave you in a general search engine, it should be enough. Do you still remember how to do that? Good, here it comes.¡± Zax closed his eyes and took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. He opened them and began his story: ¡°I already mentioned the mixed groups of dotters and Residents, put together to work on different projects. Details of the event are easy to find, I¡¯ll skip that. I ended up in a group of four, one of the smallest, with the goal of making a flash game from scratch. None of us had any experience, but we had skills adjacent to the ones we needed, so we all started at the same level, without being totally blind. It happened like any group project; I don¡¯t imagine that being very different between dot and Circle.¡± He counted on his fingers: ¡°Brainstorming a concept, refining it in a realisable game, making a general schedule of what needed to be done and how long it was expected to take, assigning tasks, with regular meetings to keep everyone up to date on advancement and adapt the team schedule. We all learnt a lot, and after many ups and downs, we eventually succeeded. It was a simple thing, just the bare bones of a game with a lot of room for improvement, but it worked as intended, it was a great proof of concept, and it could be upgraded.¡± Zax allowed himself a smile at the memory; their collective elation when it was completed, barely in time. The beaming expression of his friends as they had fun together. ¡°We kept in touch after the event. Being friends was part of the point for it all, and we wanted to see how far we could take our baby. Then our main tester activated during a try-out. She ended up with enhancements related to the game, and strong enough to earn her a place in the Circle. That caught a lot of attention. Including from a large game company in the Circle. They wanted to buy the game. Our game! It was awesome. Long term contracts, royalties, a guaranteed future for the young ones, a better life for the others... The dream. Almost too good to be true. Then, one day, the rest of the group went no contact. The main computer assured they were fine, but I couldn¡¯t access to their whereabouts. No goodbye or explanation, they just cut me off and stopped answering my calls. My messages to our contact point in the company went unanswered. I could only speak to the company¡¯s PR team, then the legal team when I didn¡¯t ¡°have the decency of fading away¡±. I even went to the Circle with my guardians, to look for my friends directly, but I didn¡¯t have their address, and you have nothing to send a personal message with only an outdated name.¡± He paused to catch his breath. Bathor stayed silent, which he appreciated. He might have been a bit incensed in the end there. ¡°Then the game came out. A big hit, in the dot and the Circle. No mention of me or the team anywhere in the credits, only KGT studio¡¯s team something. So, as a last resort, I sued. There were grounds for it, and I thought it would at least make the rest of the team come and testify. How naive. Just knowing what needed to be done was an uphill battle, let alone actually doing it. You saw how.¡± She nodded. ¡°And when we finally reached the point where they had to do something, even if just acknowledging the process we had started, the company denied everything entirely. My involvement in the development, my contacting them many times, even hiring the rest of the team and buying or selling our product. Just a big ¡°nope, nothing to do with us¡±. My proofs were dismissed as inadmissible, for reasons that still don¡¯t make sense, one after the other. There was always something, no matter how perfectly I followed their instructions. We never even reached to point of going to court.¡± He let out a frustrated sigh and let his head drop on the counter. The cold metal on his cheek helped clear his mind. Bathor opened her mouth, but he had straightened up before she could utter a word. ¡°If I had been alone, I would¡¯ve given up many times. But I hung on. Did everything I could. I appealed, appealed the appeal, until, finally, I got the answers I wanted. Well, asked for, at least. Off the record, and from a judge, of all people. She made it unmistakably clear; nobody who was someone, and especially not an important company, would buy anything associated to the dot, no matter how awesome it was. They have a whole process to make sure of it, wholeheartedly supported by the law. She didn¡¯t give details, but the rest is not hard to guess. Make sure their suppliers are registered as Residents, as a condition to buy anything in the dot. Forbid them from contacting anyone in the dot, as a condition to be registered. Goes with a new name, so they can easily lose those who come looking. ¡°We don¡¯t have that name in our files, please make sure you have the correct spelling¡±.¡± He quoted with a falsetto voice. ¡°They probably reassured my teammates that I had been ¡°fairly compensated¡± too, which would not be a lie in their mind. Or they claimed I was not interested in joining them.¡± The human rubbed his face to dispel the tension in his facial muscles. He was over it now, but it was a long story, and talking about it still drained him emotionally. ¡°So, there you have it. My first personal experience with the Circle: spoiled of my rightful earnings, cut off from my friends, and battling for year to finally be spoken as and treated as ¡°less than¡± by ranked officials. And with what you mentioned of your own experience, I¡¯m pretty sure the mess is on purpose. Makes it easy to provide plausible deniability, or to blame someone else if something disappear, goes wrong, or is not filled correctly. The devil is in the details, and he¡¯s perfectly at home in the Circle¡¯s law. Any questions?¡± He had asked from sheer habit, after a long-winded presentation, but he didn¡¯t expect this audience to actually follow: ¡°Who helped you?¡± He voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes lost in muddy thoughts. ¡°Sorry?¡± ¡°You said you were not alone. Who was with you?¡± ¡°My friends supported me emotionally; my guardians supported me emotionally and materially, and made it a pedagogic experience.¡± Not the first question he expected, but he answered all the same. ¡°They like to make everything in a learning opportunity.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you make it public- the NDA.¡± She realised on her own. ¡°Yes.¡± He nodded. ¡°The dispute involved commercial secrets, so we had to sign early in the process. Also, I had no reason to think the First Circle¡¯s public opinion would have helped. Still don¡¯t.¡± ¡°What did you do? After¡­ all that?¡± ¡°With a lot of help, I moved on. Lived my life.¡± He shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re not the type who takes hits without fighting back.¡± She stated. Was that a compliment? ¡°Fighting back? Ah, there¡¯s that.¡± Something came to Zax¡¯s mind at her words, but it didn¡¯t seem relevant. ¡°Well, I was exhausted after the whole ordeal, so I didn¡¯t really think about revenge. But they got really upset when I uploaded the game for free on the network, and made the source code publicly available. That made it known and let anyone interested to make their own version. It was just our original plan, not meant to harm them. I really enjoyed their reaction though, so I guess it counts?¡± ¡°They didn¡¯t do anything about it?¡± Bathor was sceptical. ¡°They tried.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I didn¡¯t understand at the time, but I had made the game and any future version unsellable. Totally worthless to them. They sued, but I still don¡¯t know what their plan was. I had developed something similar to their product, but I couldn¡¯t be tied to it in any way. It was official and irrefutable, and they were the ones who had pushed, hard, for it. Guess there was some miscommunication between their services? I still work on it and update improved versions whenever. Not to brag, but they are still among the most popular.¡± ¡°Sounds familiar¡­¡± The Resident frowned and muttered under her breath, but followed with her other questions. ¡°What was your contribution? To the game I mean.¡± ¡°Equal conceptor, and main programmer.¡± ¡°¡­ What does that mean?¡± ¡°Right, sorry. We all brainstormed equally to design the concept, and I made the software itself. One member drew the designs and interface, but I made them functional. Tying the buttons to the commands, so to speak.¡± ¡°Wait, weren¡¯t you ten years old at the time?¡± ¡°Yes, why?¡± Zax blinked. That question felt different from the others. ¡°It¡¯s not that complicated, the dot has a lot of tools to make it easier. I just needed a direction, something to aim for.¡± ¡°¡­ What was the game?¡± The horned woman had a complicated expression as she asked. ¡°Quick Hand. The company renamed it The Hand of God (Registered Trademark).¡± ¡°You¡¯re Ghost Hand?!¡± She burst out. Say what now? Chapter 53 - Step Back and Mice Turned out, his stunt had severe consequences Zax would have never guessed. Large entities, company or other, using legal loopholes to steal products or concepts with impunity, had been a problem and an open secret until relatively recently. Others had tried to attack a company¡¯s wallet in retaliation before, but swift and decisive legal actions from the larger entity made it more harmful than beneficial, and strongly dissuasive. They knew how to protect their gains, however ill-acquired. Obtaining an official notice of non-involvement had never been done before; people gave up before reaching that point, and it served no other purpose than adding insult to injury for the losing side. They wouldn¡¯t go that far, even if only out of respect for the victim¡¯s tenacity, unless the dot was involved. Yet the now-handyman had managed to use it to deal an actual financial blow. Sure, it hadn¡¯t dealt a lot of damage on its own, but enough to be noticed. More importantly, it had set a precedent. A real game changer, now the entities were the terrified of that certificate. Creators finally had a way of defending their due, and it had made a lot of noise in some social circles. Especially among mutation trainers; they had been a prime target for the scam. People had naturally tried to learn the full story behind the original case, but nothing conclusive could be found, a true ghost case. At some point, someone had coined the nickname ¡°Ghost Hand¡±, and it had caught on, becoming something between a minor celebrity and an urban legend. During Bathor¡¯s explanation, Zax was surprised at how¡­ normal she behaved. She had gradually loosened up over the week, but it only now dawned on him. She was pretty personable, when she didn¡¯t give herself airs or tried to control everything. ¡°Uh. Neat. I never knew.¡± Zax was nonplussed, but he only had a single question: ¡°What¡¯s a mutation trainer?¡± ¡°That¡¯s your first question?¡± Bathor welcomed the distraction. She was still reeling from his own retelling. ¡°The rest is surprising but not exactly hard to understand. Never affected me either,¡± He lifted a shoulder. ¡°Everything I create is free of copyright. So? Trainers? For mutations? You mean from 3G, right? That doesn¡¯t make sense, it can¡¯t be controlled. It¡¯s common knowledge. Trying to orient it is the best we can do, and it¡¯s never a sure thing.¡± ¡°What, really? You don¡¯t have that?¡± The Resident was even more flabbergasted than a second ago. ¡°I don¡¯t know the details, but they all have their own programs. They¡­¡± She hesitated, putting her thoughts in order. ¡°They don¡¯t promise anything, but they have some kind of¡­ programs? I heard some are like fitness exercises, others use secret custom equipment¡­ There are all types, really; some will push for specific body parts, others for a function¡­ It¡¯s not perfect, it doesn¡¯t work every time or for everyone, but some have really awesome and consistent results. Those are crazy expensive though.¡± ¡°And the others are cheap?¡± ¡°In comparison, yes, but they¡¯re still not something an average person can afford that often. There are a lot of expenses, obviously.¡± ¡°Obviously.¡± Zax nodded. ¡°And the Great Families must have their own coaches and methods. I never understood how they could have such focus in their mutations only from their bloodline. I can totally understand why the freelancers would be targeted too; once a single example of their work is out, it¡¯s not hard to make them talk.¡± It was a whole new world for Zax, he hadn¡¯t been that excited in a while. He was pacing behind his counter, spewing words faster than he could breathe. Even the templates hadn¡¯t roused such a strong reaction: ¡°Guess we don¡¯t have enough 3G to be worth actual professionals. Social Darwinism; our mutations don¡¯t go far enough at once to warrant such focus. Not enough benefits for individual or society unless they are incredibly lucky. Wonder how I never heard about them. It¡¯s not a recent development, is it?¡± ¡°Er, no?¡± ¡°Is that where you picked my compensation?¡± ¡°What- Yes? How did you-?¡± The question startled her. ¡°Makes sense.¡± He was already continuing. ¡°Consciously keep track of their mutations, gathered in one place, urgently need more 3G. The subjects were pretty varied too, must be a good one.¡± Zax¡¯s rambling continued a bit, with Bathor trying to keep up, but he eventually ran out of steam. ¡°So¡­ did we fulfil our part of the contract in a satisfactory manner?¡± She asked as he say on his stool and slumped on the counter. Having observed his interactions with others, plus his recent recounting, the mediator had a better understanding of the dotter, his value and how to handle him. ¡°You did.¡± He instantly straightened, wiped his expression off his face and came back to a professional tone, although more relaxed than before: ¡°Do you want an official admission before we move on?¡± He shook the loose metallic ring at his wrist. She agreed after half a second of hesitation. She hadn¡¯t considered it. It took him seconds and a few taps on the holographic screen. ¡°You know, you were incredibly lucky to stumble on me like you did. The identity and whereabouts of its specialists are some of the few pieces of information the main computer will personally enforce confidentiality upon. And we take it very seriously. Literally anyone else you tried to get help from would¡¯ve had to refuse. Except the Enforcers, of course, but you don¡¯t want them involved. So, what was this all about? What do you want from me, relating to this recording? I still don¡¯t see what kind of trouble it could stir.¡± ¡°It- We need to, to¡­ we need, you to¡­¡± She tarted of strong but sputtered off in less than a word. What¡¯s going on, now? ¡°Are you alright?¡± He frowned and stood up. ¡°Do you need a moment? Water? Are you having a stroke?¡± The actual concern in the last question made her stop, take a figurative step back, and reconsider her strategy: ¡°I have to go.¡± She briskly stated and took a literal step back. ¡°Seriously?¡± Zax raised an eyebrow. He was understandably puzzled. She had made a lot of effort to make this moment happen, and she just¡­ threw it away once everything was set? ¡°Sorry. I had a whole speech prepared, but I don¡¯t think it will help anymore. Quite the opposite. I¡¯ll be back. Later.¡± ¡°O- Okay. See ya¡± She had already left before he could finish his sentence. He still didn¡¯t feel involved in the issue, but he had to admit, he was intrigued by her behaviour. The handyman was imagining scenarios when SG¡¯s head peeked from the backroom. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°Are they gone? That was the last one, right?¡± She timidly asked. ¡°Yes, and yes. Still worried they¡¯d try to take you? You already confirmed the law, didn¡¯t you?¡± He turned back to her. ¡°The dot considers mutations as variations. Going from A to B. No matter how mutated ¡®A¡¯ is when you become a dotter, you will count as unmutated until B arrives. Then, the main computer will have to signal your existence to the Circle, and there will be grounds to claim you.¡± ¡°I¡­ I know.¡± She hesitantly nodded. ¡°It¡¯s an interesting loophole. Or a grey area? Joining the dot without being born in it was never considered. But thanks to that, nobody can make you a Resident against your will. Even if they know you exist. You can also make your personal data as private as you want.¡± He slowly lifted his hands, and softly grabbed her shoulders, to catch her eyes with his. ¡°You are safe. Nobody can take you away.¡± He carefully enunciated each syllable. His reassurance helped, but she still chose to cautiously keep her feathers out of sight. Fortunately, the Residents had never seen more than her head, crouched as she usually was behind the counter. It was not the cause of her current unease, however: ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡­ I heard everything. Your past.¡± She confessed, avoiding his gaze. ¡°Sorry? What for? It wasn¡¯t a secret. I didn¡¯t think about it for years. Therapy can do a world of good.¡± A glance from her confirmed he was telling the truth, which seemed to calm her some. The horned woman didn¡¯t come back the next day, or the day after, so they put the issue out of their minds. Aran didn¡¯t sense they had given up, and Zax agreed, but SG wanted to stay hopeful. In the meantime, a discovery changed their routine. Out of curiosity, Zax had compared their neural patterns at rest. During their meditation sessions, all three of them had similar readings, way more than usual. In hindsight, it made sense on paper; conscious thoughts were kept to a minimum, so less interference. It made comparing their patterns a lot easier ¨C he wished he had seen it before ¨C and even pointed him to a blind spot in the improved template making algorithm. It also brought Zax back to a part of his studies he had quickly skimmed for their too narrow use, with a most interesting result: a deep enough meditation made the C-nanites strangely straightforward to synchronise. It was beyond communication between computers; the nanites became part of a whole. Like a drone an its remote. A triple connection was harder to pull off, but they were getting there. The difficulty mostly came from the biological side of things. They were not sufficiently skilled to all go deep enough, simultaneously, for any length of time. It would come with practice, which motivated them to up their sessions. Free running sessions were mingled with meditation too, although a more mobile form. The potential applications were mind-boggling, literally and figuratively, which was why the expert wouldn¡¯t try anything recklessly. It merely put his live-test schedule forward. Which meant acquiring lab rats. Which, as it turned out, were actually white mice, a breed commonly used in medical testing. Out of convenience, he ordered a full litter, meaning a dozen specimen, but he would have to take them in person. Delivery services were not qualified to carry living creatures. Taking care of animals was indeed a different beast than plants, in their needs, material, and regulations. Not a surprise, but it took him a while to figure out all the rules. Enough 3G could let them develop ways to escape their living spaces, and even to reach sapience. The Circles had ways to deal with that, but not the dot, so the laws were particularly harsh. The result could be catastrophic at every level. The dot avoided organic materials as much as possible, so the only animals were kept by hobbyists and the rare service pet owner. Fabrics, meal pills and nutritive solutions were made in laboratories and purely synthetic. It was advised to keep the critters away from the 3G, and to keep track of the amount given, and regular intelligence tests were mandatory. There was no ambiguity about it; accident, sabotage, or else, if a non-sentient creature under your care reached sapience, they were considered a full-fledged person and under your legal responsibility; like your children. You were to take care of their needs and education until they had enough knowledge and maturity to live on their own. Even if they chose not to afterwards, free will would not be infringed upon. There were helps in place for everyone involved, which made Zax question how often it had happened. He had never heard of a pet mutating into sapience, of all things, outside fictions; but he had never looked into it either. Most likely, occurrences were few and far between, and the main computer only needed the first occurrence to take the next ones into account. No matter how unlikely, with enough time, a matter of ¡°if¡± became a matter of ¡°when¡±. Learning all that was required, then actually doing it, had been annoying and time consuming, but he was finally reaching the end. He had made the required living spaces with his ordinary nanites ¨C because why not? The blueprints were free ¨C he had stocks of appropriate litter and food, and he had passed the required tests to prove he knew what he was doing. He only had to go meet the supplier, a hobbyist breeding all kind of diminutive critters, and he was currently on the way to their appointment. If that¡¯s their hobby, I wonder what they do for a living. Zax idly pondered on the light road. He was alone for once; his roommates having elected to use their time to rest their bodies and minds after their training, by diving in online games. The breeder had an impressive array of critters, and he wasn¡¯t stingy with words about them. His passion was communicative, so the exchange took longer than expected. The tour was interesting on its own, and the man had a lot of tips and hindsight one wouldn¡¯t find in books. Zax eventually left, a cage of freshly weaned mice in one hand, and a bag of the required non-consumable items, identifications and health bills in the other. They were included in the original offer, it couldn¡¯t hurt to have spare parts, and the breeder had mentioned to put control groups and test subjects in separated but identical living spaces. Because of the unexpected delay, he couldn¡¯t set them up in his shop if he wanted to reach home before curfew. He would have had to rush anyway, so he wasn¡¯t bothered. The furballs would just have to spent the night with him, and he would take his time setting them up the next day. He took great care to not jostle them on the way, but failed as soon as he reached his destination. ¡°Kyaaa! So cuuute!¡± The shriek startled him as much as them. Both girls were instantly head over hills for the tiny beasties. He had not seen it coming. Nor how heartbroken they were when he reminded them of the goal behind their purchase. It did give him an opportunity though: ¡°I need to separate some to make a control group.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a group that won¡¯t be experimented on. To be a basis for what effect he will have on the others.¡± The foxy girl explained to their confused friend. ¡°Wrong choice of word, but that¡¯s the idea. I planned for two cages in the backroom, but I can keep one here if you take care of them. It¡¯d make things easier for me. They are my responsibility, and you can¡¯t legally have pets. Once you pass the qualifications, we can change that. I can help, the regulations make sense when you know what to do. I¡¯ll just need to keep them under observation, and you can¡¯t give them any 3G. At all. At least until I¡¯m done with the others.¡± Aran loudly squealed her joy at the idea. SG was more subtle, but her soft smile, as she watched a mouse running all over her wings, didn¡¯t leave any doubt about her contentment. There were twelve mice in total; Zax let them keep three. He chose them to be as representative of the sample as possible, but he only separated them in the morning. He made the corner of his living room into a smaller, incomplete copy of the living space he had prepared in his workshop, but the consumables, litter and food, would be an issue until he could better spread his supplies. He took some that had come with the cage, to make them more at ease, but it wasn¡¯t enough to be comfortable. It was against regulations, but they would have to deal with it for the time being. Aran proposed to use her lunch break to deliver the most pressing parts from his shop, and definitely not to gush over them. It made Zax gave his first ¡°So you want to be a pet owner?¡± lesson, with strict instructions on what to do and NOT do, to avoid them escaping in the dot and doing untold damage. He might have been more graphic than necessary when he explained the potential consequences of failing, but better be safe than sorry. If everything went well, everything would be set by the evening. Maybe earlier, if they delayed their training session. It was a bad habit to make, but they had worked hard. He was still setting up when he was notified of Bathor passing the border. The long-awaited conversation was coming. SG wouldn¡¯t have the backroom to hide like usual, so he gave her the rest of the day. It wasn¡¯t standard practice, but she had made enough progress to allow some flexibility. It uneased her, but the lonely uncomfortable mice at home helped soften the pill. She walked home on her own, and she even declined the remote surveillance he proposed. It made him proud. Chapter 54 - Finally, and a Maelstrom Everything was already prepared, so setting the rodents¡¯ new home had been a quick affair. Setting the experiments would take some time, mostly because he wasn¡¯t sure how to proceed yet. Regardless, it would require their bodies being infused with nanites, which he started right away by spiking their feeder and water. Mixing the machines with food was an option he seldom had an opportunity to use. The ownership paperwork included a physical checkup, which he used to prepare individual data sheets. He would also have to establish a baseline for their actual physical and mental attributes, so those would be the first experiments, once he got to that. He was still working on the sheets, at his shop¡¯s counter, when Bathor arrived. She appreciated the privacy of the backroom. Her eyes briefly stopped on the new additions, but she didn¡¯t comment. She tried to put a confident front, but he was familiar enough with her mannerisms to spot subtle signs of unease in her body language. Not arrogance or entitlement though. The dotter didn¡¯t rush her, but she cut the pleasantries appropriately short on her own; with a seemingly random opener: ¡°I spoke with Garuka. They are one of the best independent activation coaches ever, with customers from all the Great Families, and they¡¯re interested in meeting you.¡± Straightforward, but not straight to the point. Excellent negotiation technique, but not as effective since her actual end goal was not a mystery. Still, she took him seriously, which he appreciated enough to play along: ¡°Continue¡­¡± He frowned in a silent warning, cautious but not defiant. ¡°I asked dojos to find people who fit your¡­ criteria. It could help their customers, so they were the most cooperative.¡± ¡°I take it that¡¯s how you found my compensation.¡± The dotter stated more than asked. ¡°Most of them, yes.¡± She nodded. ¡°Some mentioned your ¡°outrageous¡± comments about their mutations, and it eventually reached the master, Garuka themself. Somehow. I was trying to get in contact too, so we met and talked.¡± Her nervousness briefly peaked at the mention of the meeting. About what, exactly? The normal follow up question was obvious, but he gave her time to gather herself before pushing. He ended up not having to, as she quickly moved on: ¡°I explained how I met you ¨C the part I could ¨C but they mostly asked about you. Your nanites. Your¡­ templates? What you did. Mostly about your comments. I answered the best I could, but it wasn¡¯t much. I didn¡¯t understand the details, but it was clear you spotted something their students had missed. Several times.¡± She paused, before adding with a half-shrug: ¡°I think they liked your analysis too.¡± ¡°Enough to ask for a meeting with a dotter?¡± Zax raised an eyebrow. ¡°He is known for his eccentricities.¡± She nodded. ¡°Any idea what they want to talk about? Since you already answered their questions¡­¡± He insisted. It was so¡­ dissonant with what he knew. ¡°I couldn¡¯t answer well.¡± She winced. ¡°I may have made things less clear, actually. I was more focused on trying to understand what you wanted. I¡¯m¡­ still not sure I do.¡± Zax obligingly nodded. It couldn¡¯t be helped; one week wasn¡¯t enough to develop insights about mutations and see what he was looking for. ¡°Can you make a guess?¡± ¡°Maybe they want to add your thing to their training. As I said, eccentric. Maybe they want to scout you as potential competition. Or as potential trainee, though that¡¯s the least likely option. The field is extremely competitive.¡± Zax silently pondered the proposition, under The Resident¡¯s anxious gaze. ¡°I have to admit, a meeting does sound interesting, but I doubt I am interesting enough to have them come here.¡± Zax threw her a bone and moved to more practical concerns. ¡°Actually¡­ we were hoping you¡¯d meet in the Circle. A tour of a dojo is not out of question. It¡¯s a great honour for any stranger.¡± The hobbyist could see her unease, but his nanites added that her stress was at an all-time high. Ah, here it comes. ¡°I was wondering how it related to your mission.¡± His tone didn¡¯t change, but his body language visibly clamped up. ¡°What is your angle? Using that meeting to bring me in the Circle, then what?¡± ¡°¡­ Directly show you what the Circle is like. The stakes. What we risk losing.¡± Bathor straightened up, her tone more certain, her eyes a notch brighter. ¡°Can¡¯t you just explain here? Or better yet, show me? You have ways to record events, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°You had a¡­ deeply negative experience with the Circle. We don¡¯t think you can, truly acknowledge the good, without first-hand experience.¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Reasonable.¡± He admitted in a resigned sigh. ¡°Can you explain the trouble the recording will bring? I have to admit, I still don¡¯t see it. Neither do the friends I sent it to. I didn¡¯t say anything special.¡± ¡°That¡­ would also be easier to show than tell.¡± The Resident hesitated. ¡°And my colleague is more qualified to explain. It¡¯s a Kogito prediction.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± Zax made a non-comital sound. The Kogitos were one of the Great Families, experts in mutations related to cognitive faculties, including predictive calculations and deductions. Some of them dedicated their lives to predicting events. Zax remained sceptical. They had demonstrated a startling degree of accuracy, but not enough to justify the investment this search for him had already been, and they weren¡¯t done yet. He was missing crucial pieces of information, but he didn¡¯t think the fidgeting Resident in front of him knew more: ¡°And what do you want me to do about it?¡± ¡°¡­ Same issue.¡± She visibly deflated. ¡°It¡¯s something only you can do, but I can¡¯t explain the details here. There are too many bases to fill out.¡± ¡°So, you want me to go with you in the Circle to meet that trainer, so that I see what the Circle is ¡°actually¡± like, so that I see and understand the undisclosed problem, so that I am moved, so that I help with your undisclosed resolution. Is that it?¡± rubbing his jaw after the mouthful of summary. ¡°¡­ It is.¡± The bovine woman looked and sounded downcast, downtrodden, like she had given up already. She was merely waiting for him to reject her at that point. That, more than anything, convinced him of her candour. He checked with his nanites analysis before delivering his verdict: ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll come. I need one week before I can clear my schedule up.¡± With his current queue, it was the required delay to not be penalised for an abrupt suspension of service. ¡°After that, we can meet this Garuka person, and you can show me your thing on the way. Do you know how long it¡¯ll take?¡± ¡°Wuh- Ah? Really? Oh, er, I dunno. They¡¯re very busy, so it shouldn¡¯t be too long.¡± ¡°And your thing?¡± ¡°¡­ no idea. It¡¯ll depend on¡­ you, I guess. We didn¡¯t iron all the details yet.¡± She was still reeling from the emotional backlash, but she could rest later. Zax wanted to get this over with. ¡°Got it.¡± He sighed. ¡°I can free a full day up for a trip, just give me the time and date when you have them. We can meet at the Circle¡¯s access point. If a day isn¡¯t enough, I can give you a few hours per day afterwards, but it won¡¯t be free, and I will come back here every night. Non-negotiable, I have things I can¡¯t leave hanging too long. Regardless of the duration, you will be responsible for my safety; and if possible, I¡¯d like you to remain my main contact. It¡¯d make things more convenient. Do we agree?¡± Bathor was just nodding along with glassy eyes. Good enough. ¡°Great.¡± Zax clapped his hands to wake her up. ¡°You can draft a contract if you want. Your call. As your guest, you¡¯ll be responsible regardless.¡± The horned woman stuttered an answer, stumbling out of the shop, her turmoil slowly turning into elation at the unexpected turn. Zax¡¯s eyes followed her until she was out of sight. He could only hope he wouldn¡¯t regret it. Hm, that felt familiar¡­ Eh, probably nothing. It wasn¡¯t like he was putting himself in danger, it was merely a step outside his comfort zone. Well, maybe more of a leap, but it would definitely be a growth opportunity. With a mental shrug, he went back to the backroom. He had experiments to prepare, and a few ideas. There would be no free running in the afternoon; Zax and Aran felt SG deserved to fully enjoy her break. Aran was also eager to play with their pets, and if Zax was being honest with himself, he had been pushing himself for weeks now, and it was starting to take its toll, mentally. His apprentice had brought most of what their new pets needed home with her, and Zax took care of the rest. They reorganised the apartment, exactly the kind of low mental energy he needed. They talked about their day between pointers on animal care. The discussion with the Resident the first topic and the agreement an immediate second. The foxy girl was starving for details; sometimes she felt more invested than the involved parties. SG had enough experience to manage the shop on her own for a while, to seek personal commissions, and to recognise the ones she was qualified for. Thanks to her, Zax could technically leave for a day at any time without penalty; he had only demanded a week to let her refuse and give themselves time to organise. ¡°I¡¯m coming too.¡± Aran¡¯s statement had been so mater-of-fact Zax had to make a double take to make sure he understood right. She wasn¡¯t asking either, she was merely announcing what would happen: she would follow him to the Circle. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can make them accommodate you. I¡¯ve pushed pretty far already, and there¡¯s no added value for them. Maybe you could come and meet that Garuka person, if I can sell the peculiarity of your mutation. No idea.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going for you, not them.¡± She clarified. ¡°¡­ Why?¡± It was out of nowhere, but it didn¡¯t feel like a whim. ¡°Whatever happens, it¡¯s sure to bring back painful memories and feelings for you. And not just from that Ghost Hand thing. I don¡¯t want you alone among strangers when it comes.¡± He hadn¡¯t thought about that. He couldn¡¯t exactly dismiss her reasoning either. He wanted to refuse, but the more he thought about it, the less reason he found. Less ways to do it too. Her job? Not an issue; she was allowed to take a break. Food? Not an issue. He¡¯d stay at most for a day; even if her meals weren¡¯t included or were too expensive behind the border, they could bring their own pills. Lodging? They wouldn¡¯t stay long enough to need it. She was free to go where she wanted, including in the First Circle, same as everyone. Even if he hid the date or lost her before going, she could still go on her own. Also¡­ he would indeed feel better with a friend around; he couldn¡¯t disacknowledge it. Just as he was coming to term with that decision, SG intervened in turn: ¡°Can¡­ can I come too?¡± She called uncertainly. The other dotters turned their heads in unison. ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t want them to know you exist?¡± Aran blinked. ¡°I, still need to, step out of my comfort zone, too. And it¡¯d be¡­ awkward. Here. Without you. Either of you. So, between the two, I¡¯d rather¡­ stay together?¡± It was the last sprout to flower the garden. ¡°Thank you.¡± Zax felt his heart throb as he said those words to his two friends. The warmth he felt took him by surprise and made him crumble on the couch. Only when it was lifted, did he realise the burden he had set on his own shoulders. He wanted to say more, but there was nothing to add. They would all go in the Circle, together. The maelstrom of emotions went to tears, among other things, and ended in an exhausted group hug. Today had been a great day. Chapter 55 - One Week and Some Zax warned Bathor via message that he would be accompanied. It was purely informative; he didn¡¯t ask for accommodations, although he did mention that Garuka might be interested in their mutations. The next day, Zax started on the mice, it would keep his mind busy. As expected, his roommates had named the members of the control group. The scientist wannabe actively didn¡¯t remember their names, as he didn¡¯t want to use them. It would be unfair to their siblings. First the usual, models of their bodies and mapping of their brain activities. Their less complex neural network might mean fewer than three days for the brain scan, but he didn¡¯t want to risk it. He wasn¡¯t in a hurry, and he could begin without. The exercises also helped to establish a baseline for their attributes, and get started in establishing a database for mouse-skill patterns. The raw data could be analysed once the mapping was complete. His experiments would replace his daily hour of study; it didn¡¯t make sense to do both when one was a more directed version of the other. Said study had included practical exercises he hadn¡¯t had the chance to try, so that was the obvious second step. However, with nine test subjects, this vein was exhausted in two days. It greatly solidified his understanding of nanite-to-nanite and nanite-to-organism interactions, though, which was the point. It also gave him hints to proceed on, and even to improve his daily uses. This technology has even more potential than I ever fathomed. ¡­ Did teacher know? He wouldn¡¯t put it was the secretive woman, but he didn¡¯t dwell on it. It would not be a pleasant distraction. His first experiment was a direct improvement of his own neural interface. The design he was currently using was basically a computer made of nanites, diffused in his brain and plugged in his sensory nerves. Exchanges were made through a special chip ¨C made of nanites too; he didn¡¯t want to have his skull open to put it there, even now that he knew about surgery. The natural and artificial may share their physical space and senses, but they processed data separately and only communicated through a single point of contact, usually with already processed information. Technically, only the sensory nanites and exchange chip had to be in the brain, the rest could be anywhere; even outside his body, but it was beside the point. ¡°The plan is to replace one large computer with two smaller modules, multiplying the communication points by as much.¡± He explained when SG came to watch him. ¡°Each module will independently handle the section it is connected to, with a self-improving algorithm. If everything goes fine, I will allow the blocks to communicate with each other; hopefully improving the process further. Then, hopefully, I¡¯ll keep adding more and making them smaller and smaller, depending on the results.¡± ¡°That, makes sense.¡± The apprentice nodded politely. ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem that risky¡­¡± ¡°Hm, sounds simple enough, doesn¡¯t it? But don¡¯t be fooled. The nanites could send a signal to blink and end up stopping its heart. Life and death are literally one tiny pulse or one nerve crossroad apart. That¡¯s how complex the brain is.¡± ¡°¡­ Scary.¡± The feathered girl looked at the subject with a complicated expression. Pity was predominant. ¡°Better them than you.¡± Zax reasoned to appease her. It didn¡¯t work. ¡°I don¡¯t think they are at risk with this experiment though. I do have some experience dabbling with grey matter. I know I can¡¯t change an established neural network, nor its natural bio-chemistry, but I hope to end up with body and machine as a single entity, so tightly bound it¡¯s impossible to tell where which part of the thinking process comes from.¡± ¡°How far, will you go?¡± She kept longingly looking at the male-female pair chosen for this experiment. ¡°I guess until¡­ uh. I don¡¯t know? Until each cell had its own module? Several modules per cell? Maybe I can add out-of-brain modules, for support? That was a great question, but before I consider stopping, I need a proof of concept. I don¡¯t even know if it can work.¡± The question also reminded him of others he hadn¡¯t considered in a while: how many nanites could the brain be imbued with before it became dangerous? What about the rest of the body? Each organ? This experiment would be simpler: continuous feeding of nanites and monitoring, until something unexpected or different happened. It would let him see that limit he had learnt about but never dared to get too close to, and the consequences of ignoring it. SG didn¡¯t stay for that experiment, or any of the others. Aran stopped asking about ¡®his¡¯ mice at around the same time too. He chose two more rodents of opposite sex for the second experiment. Each individual was paired with a dedicated B-box, neatly set aside above their living space, labelled with their experiment number, test number and ID tag. Even those not yet used in experiments, he just kept the relevant section blank. Amusingly, performing the physical and mental exercises took longer than programming the nanites. Working on his regular job in the mornings didn¡¯t accelerate the proceedings either. Not exactly an issue; for complex or sensitive tasks, the tiny workers took hours to fully set in their place anyway. With two of the five remaining subjects, the scientist would push his pattern imprinting. Make it deeper, stronger, more complex. It was rough, but it would be directly useable. He would check for side effects and any anomaly, no matter how small. The last three would be used to study the process and limits of the meditation effect, this state of unexplained synchronicity between the nanites of different hosts. He would prioritize whichever pair showed the most ¡­ Resonance? Harmony? He would need a name for the effect, but it would come later, when he understood it better. He had so many questions. Could it be forced? Prevented? Could they maintain it outside meditation? Could they exchange data this way? Perceptions? Ideas? Zax had seldom felt so inspired; he was overflowing with ideas, even if they were beyond his current ability. Or impossible. That was also a possibility. He had already established he couldn¡¯t change an established neural network, but what about a non-established one? That meant direct control of its development, in the womb. Was that possible? What about making one from scratch? And why stop at the brain? He could try to optimise everything from their genesis! And that was without considering genetic manipulation; although this beast he wouldn¡¯t touch with a dot-length pole. The thought jolted Zax out of his daydreaming. He forced himself to stay calm and write his ideas down, for when they could be more than between a child¡¯s wishful thinking and a lunatic¡¯s rambling. For now, using his time as efficiently as possible was the name of the game. In a way, the situation might be a blessing in disguise. Since he had to reduce his custom commission queue, he had more free time for his projects. They required less interaction with the subjects than expected too. Most of the time was spent following their general health, analysing the data and adapting to the results, which he could do anytime, from anywhere. Afterwork, the free running lessons continued, but they had exhausted the moves SG could casually do in most environments. Which was still quite a respectable number. Zax had stopped looking for new patterns, refining the ones he had instead. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°I want to resume the sleep learning thing.¡± Aran asked one night. ¡°Why?¡± was Zax¡¯s reasonable reaction. ¡°You¡¯re improving by bounds and leaps,¡± SG giggled at the pun. ¡°and you already caught up with me.¡± ¡°I did?¡± The tailed girl blinked. ¡°When was the last time I had to give you a pointer during a lesson?¡± ¡°¡­ a while.¡± She replied after some thought. ¡°I didn¡¯t even notice. But my progress is slowing down. I can tell, and I don¡¯t like it.¡± ¡°Guess tracking your stats live isn¡¯t that good when they don¡¯t go up enough.¡± Zax chuckled. It was an unexpected, but unsurprising result of the Stat Maker. Games must be played with moderation. At this point, the mice had confirmed the lack of side effect from his ¡°standard imprint¡±, so he had no issue with it. Through trial and error, they also determined an optimal number of patterns per night and frequency of repetition. Too much and they mixed up, too often and they were lost or overwrote each other. It was hard to determine with uncommunicative mice. The training session that revealed this limit had been long and frustrating. Incidentally, the foxy girl never developed a headache nor had another accidental overachievement, despite being a lot more familiar with all the moves. Or maybe because she was? It couldn¡¯t be because of the process; it hadn¡¯t been changed. Maybe she had gotten used to it? He hadn¡¯t tried to make it happen on purpose yet. Not enough data. Fancy words for ¡°he didn¡¯t know how¡±. At home, Aran and SG took care of and played with their pets. With an actual teacher and first-hand experience, they got their pet-handling licence in no time. Some parts made them uneasy, mostly the ¡°in case of sickness¡± and ¡°after death¡± parts, but they were ineluctable. It truly drove home how they were not playing with toys, but taking care of actual, living creatures. ¡°Bringing them to a licenced facility? Well, duh.¡± Aran mocked. ¡°Not all healing centre have what it takes to take care of non-human anatomy or physiology. You can¡¯t just go to one and hope it¡¯ll all be dandy.¡± Zax tempered. ¡°What kind of madman would throw a body in the toilets?¡± ¡°Keeping parts as a memento!?¡± Some other parts were unpleasant because they had to be mentioned at all. Aran and SG shivered in disgust at some of the ideas they were presented with. Zax didn¡¯t have it in him to mention how common it must be to be included in official regulations. It didn¡¯t damper their spirits though. The first thing they did with their licence was to make the apartment fully pet-accessible. That size of pet wasn¡¯t allowed outside specially made spaces; they risked escaping in hard-to-reach places, reproduce uncontrollably, and damaging the electrical network. A great danger for the dot and themselves, and that was before taking the risk of mutation into account if they stumbled upon 3G. Clip-on see-through tubes were proudly bought with their own salary, from suppliers only accessible to licence owners. Only dead-ends to expand the beasties¡¯ world for now. The apartment at least, which was spacious for such puny creatures. They connected to the pet living space and ran along walls and counter. Plans for a more complete network and secondary living spaces were already being made. Zax curved his roommates¡¯ eagerness by reminding them of the added effort and expenses it would demand, and that he wouldn¡¯t help, financially or otherwise. He advised to wait and see if they could handle the current situation first, but didn¡¯t try to stop them otherwise. ¡°Look, there¡¯s a mini elevator!¡± ¡°They can learn to use electric door?¡± ¡°This set makes noise and lights when they run it though. Look, there¡¯s a demo!¡± ¡°They can make music!?¡± Even if he refused to participate, it was endearing to watch his friends have fun. Aran also updated her character sheet ¨C because of course she did ¨C counting her new licence as a level 1 skill. Zax had to admit, the thought had escaped him, which led him to ask about her WIL project. They hadn¡¯t talked about it in a while, but Aran regularly bounced back ideas for improvement with SG. It was easy to forget, but her background had made her familiar with what willpower did and how it felt. They didn¡¯t dwell on the details, but talking more about her experiences couldn¡¯t be a bad thing. Win-win. Zax kept checking nothing could make the nanites dangerous, and he had to admit the choice of measurable parameters made sense, as did the equations using them. They didn¡¯t exactly have a scientific basis, but it was at least coherent. On a whim, he decided to buy the add-on too. He knew first-hand how harmless it was, and both girls already had theirs. Outside the lessons, games and pet husbandry, SG kept playing with the adjusting machine between commissions. As her familiarity increased, she could express her creativity in new and interesting ways. Her proficiency had plateaued, confirming the impact of the pattern imprint, but she was quickly as skilled as a two stars adjuster. She only had to fulfil the required hours of practical application and number of pieces, and she would be officially certified. She still didn¡¯t care for clothing adjustment as a career, but the feeling of progress was reassuring. It wasn¡¯t the only reason to continue either. While browsing online for inspiration, the apprentice had stumbled on a section of the main art-selling platform, that dealt with artistic sheets like she was making. ¡°I know that platform, but I never knew they sold that.¡± The teacher stated. ¡°It says here, ¡®apprentices, showing off their training¡¯.¡± Crouched, she pointed a curved claw on a section of the holographic screen. ¡°That would explain it. I never used that skill creatively, and I left the company that trained me before I was two stars.¡± The comment drew a snicker from the feathered girl. ¡°I¡¯m not an artistic guy. Bite me.¡± Zax played along with a smirk. ¡°Can¡¯t be that popular, or seasoned professionals would participate. Retired ones too. Definitely the retired ones. Or maybe it¡¯s a new trend? Want to try?¡± SG twisted her head to the side and blinked, confused. ¡°Do you want to put your training sheets for sale? We can add that to your possible commissions too, if there¡¯s a demand.¡± He explained. The bashful girl was hesitant at first, but her friends¡¯ comfort let her give it a try. They were right, it wouldn¡¯t cost her anything. It was slow going, but pieces were selling here and there, and it was all Zax and Aran needed to set SG up as a freelance artist. It gave potential customers somewhere to see all her former pieces, a place to gather and discuss more freely, and she wouldn¡¯t have to pay a commission to the platform for every sale. If she used her own money to buy her own adjusting machine and materials, it could even be an independent source of revenue. Not enough to live on yet, but it was a step towards self-sufficiency, and it was even something she found pleasure in. It was not the only venue either. As she opened emotionally to the world, her free running demonstrations looked more and more like a dance. Both disciples had already commented on her growing elegance, but it took a surprise round of applause from a passing family to convince her. It had only happened occasionally, when she pushed herself and managed to forget where she was. This time, she wasn¡¯t even trying! ¡°That was awesome!¡± ¡°What¡¯s your channel?¡± The two children approached her when the spectacle was over, their parents smiling fondly just behind them. ¡°Hm, Er-¡± ¡°Haha, she doesn¡¯t have one yet, but keep looking. It¡¯s coming sooner than later.¡± Aran flew to rescue her fumbling friend. The encounter had been a shock to the acrobat, but the idea of a channel had stuck with her, for some reason. From then on, many of the free running lessons were punctuated with short acrobatic dances, recorded by the three sets of brain-nanites, saved in a public part of her personal account and broadcasted on the social networks. Her following soared, and Aran had a blast editing the videos. It also helped with the neural patterns; same moves with a wildly different mindset. More importantly, it seemed to unlock something in her, because she was talking more openly since. It was like¡­ she was occasionally forgetting what she was always so afraid of. She claimed something about the whole dance-and-broadcast feeling liberating, although she didn¡¯t fully understand it herself. Interesting choice of word. In any case, she was acting¡­ not like a new person, but at least another version of their winged friend. One who was¡­ happy. To be there. To be alive. A simple glance between Zax and Aran, and they knew what the other thought of this joy. It was brittle little thing, and they would definitely protect it. All in all, it had been a busy, but fulfilling, one week and some since the Resident¡¯s visit. The worry about the trip had successfully been put to rest. It only came back in force when it was time to go. Chapter 56 - Taking a Stroll Earlier in the week, Bathor had proposed a day and time to meet, at the access point of the dot. Zax had agreed. General information on the First Circle wasn¡¯t hard to get, but the dotters had no idea what to expect from this specific trip. They had warned the authorities, of course. Zax being an on-call specialist, he had to give a heads up when he left the dot. Furthermore, he still didn¡¯t trust the Circle one bit; he merely gave the horned woman the benefit of the doubt. Aran didn¡¯t have a strong opinion but trusted Zax, and SG had her own reasons to be generally wary. Therefore, they didn¡¯t hold back on the preparations and precautions, just in case. Maybe a bit for fun too, in some cases. Advised online, they included packaged meal pills and solutions, 3G stacks, downloaded maps marked with Enforcer stations, saved websites and webpages they might need, emergency numbers on speed dial, and backup bracelets. It sounded like a lot, but it didn¡¯t take much physical space, and did didn¡¯t take long to complete. Pointless and excessive might be accurate descriptors, but peace of mind was priceless. Also, finding unexpected ways and places to hide different items on their person was fun in its own way. The girls asked to have the same nanites their expert friend had, to serve as protected bracelets when they had to turn theirs off. Which ¨C somehow ¨C led them to ask for nanites in their pets too. Aran wanted to make character sheets for them, ¡°for fun¡±. Zax could only laugh exasperatedly. It wouldn¡¯t make them less of a control group, so he had no reason to refuse. It would help his health and behavioural checks, although it wouldn¡¯t preclude the traditional tests they were required to do. The pet-owners even wanted to pay, but could only do so for the materials. The manpower didn¡¯t have a price set; no demand and all that. He used standard nanites only, installed Stat Maker and the WIL extension, and locked the nanites with different keys for each individual. ¡°I can understand why you don¡¯t want to waste your precious swarm on them, but why the locks? Afraid we¡¯ll hack them?¡± Aran¡¯s question had come as they traipsed to their fateful appointment. The girls could feel Zax¡¯s anxiety, so they had proposed to go there on foot. Walking and talking would help smooth his nerves. Not just his either; he wasn¡¯t the only one stepping out of his comfort zone. They followed along the ring that circled the whole dot, the residential area, to their right. They passed several neighbourhoods on the way, some better maintained than others, but all homely and made distinctive by the inhabitants¡¯ personal additions. ¡°One of the first observable results with the subjects was: the meditation effect does happen with the standard nanites, it¡¯s just weaker. Probably because they¡¯re too ¡®heavy¡¯ for the body¡¯s background activity to push them around. But if the subjects huddle together in their sleep ¨C which is normal mouse behaviour ¨C the resonance kicks in. That¡¯s what I call it by the way.¡± ¡°Resonance?¡± ¡°Yes. It¡¯s not exactly related to low brain activity, so keeping ¡®meditation¡¯ or ¡®sleep¡¯ in the name didn¡¯t make sense. Music makes it happen more easily, and I¡¯ve had better results since I compare it to an echo or a harmonic, so I¡¯m keeping the name. Until I understand it more and find a better name, at least.¡± ¡°Sounds nice.¡± SG complimented. ¡°Suspiciously nice.¡± Aran narrowed her eyes. ¡°Did you find that yourself?¡± ¡°No, it was a suggested in a comment on the forums I posted my results in.¡± Zax admitted without any shame. ¡°I can¡¯t reliably make it happen yet, but blocking it? Pretty straightforward. The resonance is more pronounced when the nanites and the brains run similar programs or process similar information, respectively. I can¡¯t stop that, but putting them even slightly out of synch is enough to prevent it. That¡¯s what the independent encryptions are for. And I didn¡¯t want to keep them separated. Too much work, not healthy for them.¡± He usually didn¡¯t expand on his experiments with his sensitive roommates, but his mouth kept moving on its own. Roving in a warm atmosphere, talking about a familiar topic, focusing on the mental challenge he was tackling¡­ their plan worked: he was appeased. ¡°What can it do?¡± the tailed girl pursued. So were they. ¡°Still not sure. The most obvious application would be remote communication. In nano-technology, the low range of, well, everything, has always been a weak point. Just that would open a lot of options.¡± ¡°Seems like a lot of effort if that¡¯s it.¡± ¡°You can say.¡± The expert sighed. ¡°I think it¡¯ll be more interesting when I understand how and why it happens. I still can¡¯t think of a reason it doesn¡¯t work outside living bodies.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t?¡± SG quipped. ¡°You¡¯d think so, right? Less interference and all that. But no. When I try to reproduce the effect in different fluids or mix of fluids, including air, they only behave normally.¡± ¡°Uh.¡± ¡°Neat. Any guess?¡± Aran picked back up. ¡°Mhm,¡± He assented. ¡°Brain-nanites resonate with brain-nanites, heart¡¯s with heart¡¯s, liver¡¯s with liver¡¯s, and so on, but brains always have the strongest effect, hearts a little one, and its neglectable for anything else. It varies among individuals, but I would have never noticed if I wasn¡¯t actively looking for it. Also, when the mice resonate, it¡¯s way less than when we do it.¡± They hadn¡¯t stopped meditating together, so he could still observe the phenomenon. ¡°It could mean complex brains make a stronger resonance. I think it works off the¡­¡± he trailed off to find a comparison they would understand, ¡°What the machines would see as the background noise around them. You know, the general organic activity. The more complex it is, the louder they ¡®vibrate¡¯. The 3G favours complex organisms too.¡± This comment brough snickers to the girl¡¯s lips. ¡°What? It¡¯s true. The simpler the organism, the more 3G they need for the same effect, and activation is more difficult.¡± Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°No, we were just wondering how you¡¯d relate that to your other hobby.¡± Aran smirked as SG hid her giggles behind a wing wrist. ¡°Well, nanites are more my job than my hobby, and I¡¯d say a single point of comparison is pretty tenuous for a relation.¡± He denied, but a side smile still graced his lips. ¡°It¡¯s my best shot, honestly.¡± He added with a shrug. ¡°I considered some kind of quantum entanglement, but the machines are not that small.¡± ¡°Alright, alright.¡± They calmed shortly after. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± SG pointed a wing to a new sight in front of them. It was the same question she had asked for the few improvised playground or home-made gathering points they had come across during their impromptu hike, but this was different. An endless row of wagons was cutting their path, using at least three bands of a perpendicular light road. They rushed from deeper in the dot to vanish in the wall. The eerily blank wall, without a door, a window or even a mottle for several metres. It was not a residential area anymore. ¡°That, would be a delivery sharing our goal.¡± Zax replied. ¡°You know how, to be able to enforce long-term isolation and autonomy at any time, the dot is only allowed a single access point to the rest of the Shelter?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± The winged girl was up to date about common knowledge. ¡°This single point is divided in different sections.¡± He pointed as he explained: ¡°Somewhere below us is a highly secured and sealed pipe network, to carry the 3G directly from the Rift to the Circles. Above the ceiling is a network to carry data and energy. And this, here, is the section for common goods. Materials, items, electronics, and so on. The Circle¡¯s bio-technology may be unique and incredible, but I guess they still need conventional technology somewhere. And we¡¯ll always be the best to recycle it, pretty sure. Oh, see the wheels under the magnetic wagons?¡± His finger went lower. ¡°Decorations?¡± ¡°Nope, actual wheels! They¡¯ll be set on physical rails at the end of the light road. It makes them useful even where energy is not abundant and reliable. Meaning, everywhere outside the dot.¡± He smirked. ¡°Neat.¡± SG nodded. ¡°I didn¡¯t know the light road was that energy-consuming.¡± Aran followed. ¡°To carry people, not that much. But don¡¯t underestimate the weight of those things, and remember: the Circles can¡¯t have power plants.¡± ¡°Ah, I never thought about that.¡± She blinked. ¡°How do you know all that? I don¡¯t imagine you being a nerd for Circle-related¡­ anything.¡± ¡°I tried a lot of jobs before I focused on nanites, even if they had to do with the Circle.¡± ¡°Of course you did.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Where are we going?¡± ¡°There should be a people section¡­ there. Signs. We just have to follow them.¡± Turned out, the people section of the access point was on the other side of the bustling light road. They had to take stairs and cross a catwalk above the light road. The view up there revealed it actually had five lines, four leaving the dot and one ¨C less filled ¨C entering it. The main road cut through the dot until the no-man¡¯s land, offering a direct view of the Core, in the distance. The dot used its limited space as efficiently as possible, so no matter where you were, there was always something nearby. As such, it was easy to forget how large it actually was. This scenery was a striking reminder. The rushing lights, the darting sounds, the purposeful, organised chaos¡­ it was a rare spectacle. A sight to behold. Beautiful. Zax was reminded of his challenge, to add his mark in hard to reach, meaningful places. This view was certainly meaningful. Not particularly challenging to reach however, but that was easily fixed. The catwalk¡¯s underside should be enough. ¡°What are you doing!?¡± Aran shouted when he stepped over the guardrail. ¡°Wait for me, I won¡¯t be long.¡± The path was fixed to the wall with thick metal beams. Different ducts followed it; he would make sure to not touch them. The beams didn¡¯t offer much adherence, but their placement allowed a sure grasp. He didn¡¯t go that far from the edge, but he was surprised at his own calm. He was hanging high enough to be hurt even with a perfect landing on soft ground, the ground below wasn¡¯t a soft one, and the fast-moving vehicles wouldn¡¯t let him reach it. He was only one misstep from severe injury or death. He could see many ways things could go wrong even as he did them. Yet he wasn¡¯t particularly worried. He merely ignored the unfathomable darkness of the tunnel in front of him, put his introspection aside, and started on his task. Like last time, he shaped a nanite ball from his pocket into a craving tool, drew a ¡®Z¡¯ with a slightly longer bottom, a straight line up until halfway to the upper line, followed by an oblique parallel to the Z¡¯s, until below the starting point. There had to be a more effective way of doing this, but paint wouldn¡¯t last long enough for his taste, and he wasn¡¯t invested enough to think more about it. He put the nanites back, loosing [11.2%] of them to a well-timed disruption field, and turned around to see Aran bearhugging a support beam just under the guardrail, with SG casually walking to him upside-down. Literally walking, her talons grabbing the beams above their heads as easily and regularly as taking a stroll. Her wings were sticking to her body; she didn¡¯t need any help balancing. Both were confused. One was also not happy at all. Once they were back up, Zax explained his ¡°It was just too perfect not to.¡± actions and earned a rightful ¡°That was terrifying and reckless!¡± and ¡°You could¡¯ve warned us.¡± admonishment from his tailed friend, despite his compelling defences of ¡°I knew what I was doing.¡± and ¡°I told you to wait.¡±. He didn¡¯t try to stop her though; she wasn¡¯t wrong. He wasn¡¯t even sure what had driven him. Still, he didn¡¯t think she would keep going when they left the ¡°crime scene¡±, nor that she would continue until they reached the other side of the bypass and down the stairs. Had she even taken a breath since? She only stopped at the entrance of the hub. Zax couldn¡¯t tell if it was larger or smaller than in his memories. There was a lot of space, even if it paled against the previous sight, but there weren¡¯t many people. It left it feeling empty and bigger than it was. Most of the front was a waiting area, with seats for all kinds of tails, mass, and other varied anatomy. A manned reception was on the left, where ¨C according to the signs ¨C people could have their luggage checked for items that didn¡¯t fit their destination or make inquiries¡­ to actual people. It was a weird concept for the dotters, but it made sense if there could be no computer network to give you the answers. To the back were side rooms of different sizes, probably for more private meetings. Hallways between the rooms and to the sides led to different parts of the First Circle. The names on the signs didn¡¯t mean anything to the dotters, so it was easy to see how useful the reception booths could be. Despite the distractions on the way, the trine was a bit early. They wordlessly sat on random seats and killed time in their own ways. Aran waited a bit, shaking her leg, then went toddling around; the place had the space for that. SG followed her; the large empty space made her jittery, she needed to move too. They made sure to stay within eyesight of each other though. Zax merely waited, observing the surroundings. Construction was mostly metal, so maybe this humongous room was still part of the dot. The Circle would have more stone, probably. He couldn¡¯t see a sealing in the threshold they had gone through, for the potential lockdown the dot was made to be ready for, so it made sense. It would be closer to the limit. A more obvious feature was the recommendations for travellers from both sides, displayed everywhere. Those targeting dotters repeated the main precautions he was already aware of, which was reassuring. The others were the Resident¡¯s counterpart, paper-printed and heavily outnumbered. Some made sense: advising to get bracelets as soon as possible and why, the curfew hours and consequences for breaking it. Others were just confusing: Forget about air conditioning. What did air need to be conditioned for? Why mention it at all? That¡¯ll just remind people. Was it important in the Circles? But the dotter posters didn¡¯t mention it. Zax idly pondered the implications of what he was seeing until Bathor pulled him out of his reverie. She wasn¡¯t alone. Chapter 57 - Bubbles and Train Zax hadn¡¯t considered the one-horned Resident could be accompanied too, so he nearly missed her amid the group that arrived from the other side of the room. He messaged his own group and examined the newcomers; two unknown men, and Loozy¡¯s colourful mane was nowhere in sight. The man on the left would probably be tall if he wasn¡¯t slouching so much. It didn¡¯t seem to be his natural posture, just weariness. More interestingly, his whole body was covered in thick scales. Average built, albeit with a bit of a belly. No footwear or accessories. The only clothing he wore was a loincloth, with a sash across his chest holding a pouch on the side. The Circle¡¯s answer to a dearth of pockets. No hair anywhere, of course. Human face, including the eyes, nose, ears and lips, showing how tiny and thin his scales could be. Human hands and feet, no paws. No claws or tail either. Maybe fangs, but if his nanites were right about the scales matching an alligator¡¯s, some would probably jut out from his lips if they were mutated. Zax caught a glimpse of the ridges along the man¡¯s back when the group turned to the side, following Bathor¡¯s finger. It matched too well with their natural counterpart, especially the natural irregularities, so the hobbyist tentatively upped his classification a notch above swallow/skin-deep, until further notice. The other man was a bit on the small side and didn¡¯t have obvious mutations. His clothes bore decorative holes to reveal markings on his body, leaving his back fully exposed and boasting a painted pattern sprouting from his spine. A few elegant openings adorned his forearms and calves too. The back markings had a symmetrical wavy pattern, in hazy bands the colour of a fresh bruise, while the face and limbs had clean, straight lines in a brighter green, with no pattern Zax or his nanites could discern. The hobbyist had never heard of such configuration before. The parts didn¡¯t match any creature in his database, but that didn¡¯t mean much. The way they were drawn was the intriguing part. Body markings were usually one single colour, until the full primary pattern was set or close to; this one wasn¡¯t and had two radically different colours. Having several types of bands ¨Cwaves and straight lines ¨C was not unheard of, but they usually fit together to make a different whole, or one could grow into the other; his were not even in the same area. Gradual colouration or clean lines were common, but not the two on the same individual; his two patterns each had a different type. The imperfect symmetry was the only part that didn¡¯t go against the widely acknowledged trends. Could he have independent mutations at different parts of his body but on the same organ? That would explain why both sets of markings were so different, but it could only mean one of those mutations was necessary for his survival. In a way that didn¡¯t fit the rest of his life, or that mutation would have grown since. In a way that wasn¡¯t incompatible with his lifestyle either, or it would have been undone at the following activations. On the other hand, none of those markings seemed related to a life-saving mutation. Were they a side effect of something deeper? But then the marks would be everywhere¡­ He was making a lot of assumptions too, on how old those mutations were, or how many activations the man had had since, or anything about his lifestyle. Zax was incredibly curious, but the Residents noticed him starring, so it would have to wait. He waved his hand, but didn¡¯t stand up. ¡°Hello, Zax.¡± Bathor greeted when they reached him. ¡°Here are my colleagues, Gatoro, representative of the Libero Family¡± The man on her right grunted. ¡°And Suisen, representative of the Yokai Clan.¡± ¡°Hi hi.¡± The representative in question waved eagerly. ¡°Ready for the biggest day of your life?¡± ¡°Hello. Er, not really?¡± Zax leaned his head to the side, uncertain. ¡°I thought it was only two meetings, with an activation coach and with your team? I mean, yes, that Garuza person is bound to be interesting, but still¡­¡± His answer drew a complicated expression from Bathor, Gatoro didn¡¯t react, but Suisen found it amusing: ¡°Haha, that¡¯s the spirit! Don¡¯t let anything daunt you! C¡¯mon, let¡¯s go.¡± He motioned with his head. ¡°Stem¡¯s sprouting.¡± ¡°Wait, didn¡¯t you send a message about two friends with you?¡± The horned woman reminded. ¡°Did they change their mind?¡± ¡°No, they just went for a little walk.¡± Zax rose from the seat. ¡°Waiting here was too boring for them. They¡¯re right here.¡± He pointed behind them with his eyes. The welcome party glanced back, startled by the young woman waiting behind them. Her tail was softly swaying behind her. She put on a slightly too large, too sweet smile and waved innocently: ¡°Greetings, Residents. My name is Aran. Pleased to make your acquaintance.¡± ¡°Hello. You seem familiar. Have we already met?¡± Bathor tried to answer casually. ¡°Maybe when you visited the shop? I go there quite often. I played with Loozy too, when you visited together. She needed to let off some steam.¡± ¡°Behind her is my apprentice, SG.¡± Zax continued the introductions. The socially adept gamer didn¡¯t move, letting her shy friend reveal herself at her own pace. ¡°Hello.¡± She kept her wings folded, hiding her upper body like a cloak, but she managed a small nod to accompany her small voice. Bathor and Suisen nodded back, but Gatoro didn¡¯t react beyond a glance. If his hands weren¡¯t flabbily hanging at his sides and his back was straighter, he could have passed for the strong silent type. As was, he only seemed too tired to care. Short pleasantries later and they were on the move. Everyone was eager, either to get started or to be done. They went to the corridors on the back of the access point, the dotters following the Residents, the scaled man closing the march. Zax expected them to go through the maze of meeting rooms, but a wide, straight hallway on the side allowed them to bypass it. Aran seemed disappointed. ¡°It feels like skipping a dungeon, and I don¡¯t like speedruns.¡± She pouted when asked about it. ¡°Try to imagine the encounters it would have.¡± Zax advised. She did so. The dotters chuckled; the Residents up front were confused but only exchanged glances. Before they reached the other end, something changed in the air. It was subtle, hard to pinpoint, but it became glaring as they stepped further. Was it lighter? It wasn¡¯t noisier. A slight fragrance maybe? The air couldn¡¯t be as sanitised as the dot¡¯s, so it was a possibility. Regardless, there was no mistaking it: they were not in the dot anymore. The corridor led not to a room or a hub like the one they had left, but to a crossroad, mirroring the one in front of the access point. The most striking part was just how high the sky was. It was still as opaque, sturdy and uniform as normal, but at least twice as high. High enough light-sources were mounted on the ground instead. There was¡­ so much space! Even the nanite factory, in the Core, hadn¡¯t felt that casually cavernous. The size there was calculated, purposeful, like in the dot. Here, it felt natural, a side effect no one had bothered doing anything about. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. There were green splotches here and there. Vegetation, to help renew the air, so it was probably not as airtight as the dot. The thought sent a shiver down the dotters¡¯ spines. Two of them had grew up learning about the lethal world outside the Shelter, and one had seen firsthand the damage it could do. She had mentioned it when learning about pre-shelter history. The Circles had reliable protections against it, but it didn¡¯t make the idea any less chilling. Lowering his eyes from the ceiling, the second thing Zax noticed was the lack of freight on their right. It explained why the sounds of activity were so muted; their tunnel probably opened elsewhere, further away. Looking sideways, it was revealed the corridor they had entered in became a pipe, extruding from the dot¡¯s wall. On both sides of the pipe, Enforcers were patrolling. Standard weapons but average mutations. Dotter average. Curious. The guides let the dotters gawk before continuing: ¡°Transports are not allowed that close to the entrance. And for six people, they¡¯d be too expensive in this bubble. Sorry, but we already exploded our budget. We¡¯ll have to walk for a bit.¡± Bathor stated. ¡°Normal vehicles are for three people at most ¨C including the driver ¨C but same issue. We can¡¯t afford three of them.¡± ¡°No problem.¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°You brought me here to see how¡¯s life in the Circle, didn¡¯t you? That means all the bubbles and not just seeing it from afar.¡± ¡°Bubble?¡± Aran queried. ¡°It¡¯s how the Circles are built. Construction starts at the previous level¡¯s entry point and expand from there. It naturally forms a circle around that point, so it was named a bubble.¡± Zax explained, to the surprise of the locals. ¡°Once they are stable enough and reach a critical size ¨C related to many factors, including afflux of new blood, surrounding resources, and specific mutations ¨C they replace their growth with durability, making more lasting structures and so on, and they help expand new bubbles around them. Rinse and repeat. A Circle is complete when the bubbles join. Preferably at the opposite of the entry point.¡± ¡°That¡­ doesn¡¯t sound like it would make a circle.¡± Aran bore a complicated expression. ¡°It¡¯s easier to build along the lower level, so they don¡¯t stray much. After that, they can fill the blanks to make a cleaner circle. Right?¡± Zax directed at their guides. ¡°That¡¯s what we were taught, but the First Circle has been completed for a while now.¡± Suisen nodded. ¡°The few remaining bubble marks ¨C what¡¯s left of the old borders ¨C are kept for historical reasons, but that¡¯s it. We¡¯re as round as it gets. Pretty sure in practice, it wasn¡¯t as easy as it sounds, though.¡± ¡°Oh? Then what did you call a ¡®bubble¡¯ earlier?¡± ¡°Well, the bubbles still exist.¡± He amended. ¡°The borders are mostly administrative now, is all. Each are managed by their own governor, with their own politics. Same laws tho. They can share parts of their territories too, so it¡¯s a bit hazy at times. I heard of mergers, splits, overlaps, and even small ones being integrated to another, but that one was long ago.¡± ¡°Ah. Oh. Ooooh.¡± Aran vocalised a realisation she shared with her feathery friend. ¡°What?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what it was about! In the movies. The ones set in the Circles. It was a common worldbuilding point, but I didn¡¯t know it was a real thing.¡± Aran explained. ¡°Makes more sense.¡± SG nodded enthusiastically. ¡°But I don¡¯t think they call it ¡®bubbles¡¯?¡± The tailed girl added uncertainly. ¡°It¡¯s just the common name. You¡¯ll also hear them called ¡®Sectors¡¯, ¡®Districts¡¯ or ¡®Areas¡¯. I¡¯m not even sure there¡¯s an official name.¡± Bathor elaborated. Seems like a severe oversight and a legal nightmare. ¡°If it¡¯s a different management but the same laws, what¡¯s the difference between them?¡± Zax was curious despite himself. He wasn¡¯t aware of such minutia either, and their guides had been surprisingly pleasant so far. Neutral at worst. ¡°They have different missions, different ways of doing things, they prioritise different things. Some can work together too. Like, a bubble focuses on production, another on logistics, and together they make an awesome delivery service for everyone.¡± ¡°Some will push for new ideas in the population by organising events, others will take their time and use education and entertainment instead.¡± ¡°They can manage some of each other¡¯s needs too. One will handle their neighbour¡¯s building supplies while the neighbour will take care of the related manpower.¡± ¡°The governors regularly meet to coordinate each other, amend the global laws if needed, agree on which bubble will do what. That kind of thing. It¡¯s called a council, though the true council, when all the bubbles are gathered, doesn¡¯t happen that often.¡± ¡°When it does, it¡¯s always because of something big. A major discovery or something.¡± The horned woman and the painted man explained together. ¡°Neat.¡± Aran insightfully stated. ¡°Where do the Great Families play into this?¡± Zax continued. ¡°They support and advise the governors and the councils. Money, manpower, intelligence¡­ They give what they can to who needs it.¡± ¡°They ¡®give¡¯ according to ¡®need¡¯, uh?¡± Zax pointed sceptically. ¡°How are the governors decided?¡± ¡°They are elected by the citizens. Every five years, unless something happens to make them leave earlier.¡± ¡°Right. In that case, I guess at least some governors are neither part of a Family nor related to one? And none of the bubbles can seriously be called ¡®this Great Family¡¯s district¡¯?¡± The Residents had the decency to look embarrassed. It was all the confirmation he needed. While the governors officially had top decision-making authority, in practice, the Great Families called the shots; they controlled the essential resources and talents. Every system had its issues, but the only way the dotter would support this one was if the heads didn¡¯t make the people suffer with their internal competition, and if it didn¡¯t get in the way of the everyone¡¯s prime directive: terraforming the planet so the Shelter can cease to be necessary one day. Zax wasn¡¯t convinced, but he didn¡¯t have decisive proof of either way. He would give them the benefit of the doubt until something was proven. They eventually reached¡­ a public transport station? It was all it could be, but it was unlike anything in the dot. Sparsely more people had been walking around as they went further from the access point, but they all seemed collected in this one place. The Residents, none with advanced mutations, were waiting on a huge dais, on one side of metal rails. There were quite a number of people, but they didn¡¯t take half the available room. A far cry from the light road station, on ground level, that could be boarded individually anytime and didn¡¯t have room for more than a handful of adults at a time. Another identical dais was on the other side of the rails, empty. Nobody reacted to the group of six discussing what had to be common knowledge for them. For example, the fact this railroad was one of a kind, as it went all the way around the dot, but most public transportation didn¡¯t go beyond their bubble. This train was the only one that could be allowed to go closer to the access point, in special cases, which were the only way to lower the barricade behind the dais ¨C the train station. Soon enough, a bell rang, announcing the arrival of the aforementioned train. One minute later, it was there. Not as loud as expected, and most of it was the brakes. Most wagons were long with wide empty openings serving as windows, but bulky ones made its head and its tail, from which tired strongmen exchanged places with fresh ones. The guides had warned them that propulsion was powered by muscles, but it wasn¡¯t what the dotters expected. ¡°Muscle-men¡± was a fitting term, but they couldn¡¯t be compared to the near-paragon of physical strength that was Officer Bor. Not because they were above his league, but because their mutations were so focused. One boasted wide, smooth, chiselled legs, each muscle¡¯s individual twitch visible, each heartbeat shown by the throbbing veins along their surface, under an ordinary sized, pockmarked, skinny torso. The upper and lower parts could credibly belong to different people. Similarly, one had two enormous arms, while another had a single, even larger one. One had a more homogeneous musculature, but he was also the most exhausted of the lot, visibly sweating and panting. The visitors could definitely picture such a group moving a huge mass of loaded, metal wagons for hours. None of them seemed bothered by their own asymmetry. Neither were the other Residents, if the lack of reaction from other passengers, or the woman with two children running to their father, were any indication. The two-arms man picked one up in each hand with a smile, getting childish giggles for his efforts. Definitely the results of work-related mutations, the human body wouldn¡¯t allow such unbalance naturally. Analysing the pictures, Zax¡¯s nanites pointed irregularities in the movements of some of them, compatible with changes in the structure itself; not merely in the size and performance of normal muscles, but in the number and layout of everything, bones, muscles, nerves, even joints. It made it easy to spot the more recent hire, and those who used their muscles outside of this job. The hobbyist wanted to examine them from closer, but the train wouldn¡¯t wait for them, and the motor-wagons weren¡¯t open to the passengers. The passenger wagons were a simple affair: empty boxes with leather loops ¨C Zax was sure it was leather ¨C hanging from the ceiling, sides and central poles; collapsible seat and bumps to lean against along the walls, below the eye-level windows. There couldn¡¯t be standard seating when there wasn¡¯t a standard sitting anatomy. Which made the uniformity of the passenger¡¯s anatomies all the more obvious. Only two tails among the dozens of people in their wagon, and one belonged to a dotter. Actually, everyone on this wagon could pass for a dotter with a simple change of wardrobe. As the tourist was pondering the implications, the bell rang and the wagon started moving, going back where it came from; deeper in the First Circle. Chapter 58 - Little Big Birdie The train started slow, but accelerated surprisingly quickly. The dotters couldn¡¯t tell what the cruise speed was, but it was certainly faster than the average light road. Noisier too; whatever was going on in the motor-wagons, the friction of the wheels and other moving parts, the occasional discussion between passengers, all combined to make a bustling ambience. Unlike what one might presume, it wasn¡¯t overwhelming or unpleasant. There was even a comfort to be found; feeling the living crowd around them. They quickly crossed several bubbles, marked by their stops. Looking by the windows, the only distinction was the abundance of pink in one of them, in the buildings and the people. Not always the same pink, so it was probably not a mere matter of building material. An aesthetic choice? They eventually reached their stop. Like the others, this station hugged the dot¡¯s metallic wall, with a twin dais on the other side of the tracks. Like some others, there were other stations for other carriers nearby, but with a lot more options than the previous ones. It was impressive; this bubble had to be enormous. ¡°This bubble has one of the most extensive networks of public transport.¡± Their guide confirmed. ¡°It¡¯s a lot bigger than an average bubble, but everything is easier to reach. Decisions from past governors also made it a haven for start-up companies, and for some reason, none of the Families took it over. Adult businesses can thrive here.¡± ¡°Adult businesses? There are child businesses?¡± Aran picked up. ¡°Not exactly, it¡¯s just¡­¡± Bathor paused, looking for the right words. ¡°Many people start a small company specifically to be noticed by a bigger one, or a specific one, and their business are usually subsumed or disbanded when they do. If they do.¡± ¡°If not, it depends. They can keep going, thrive or fail like any other, or be sold to recoup losses and maybe try again.¡± Suisen completed, earning a surprised glance from his colleague. ¡°Exactly. They¡¯re totally legit businesses, complete with employees on payrolls, goods or services, everything, but the quality ones don¡¯t stay independent for long, and they were never meant to. They¡¯re called ¡®training business¡¯, like ¡®training wheels¡¯. The others are called ¡®adult business¡¯, because adults don¡¯t need no training wheels.¡± The metaphor made them chuckle. ¡°That¡¯s most activation coaches, by the way.¡± Suisen added. ¡°It can easily lead to a mountain of debt, it¡¯s one of the riskiest businesses, but it¡¯s an opportunity to show what you¡¯re worth, what kind of results you get, at no initial cost for the sponsor Family. It rarely works, but when it does, your future is set, and it¡¯s still the surest way to ¡®get in the circuit¡¯, so to speak.¡± Sponsor? ¡°I remember, Bathor told me good coaches tended to be exclusive and recluse.¡± ¡°They are.¡± Suisen nodded in confirmation. ¡°This bubble is close enough to the access point to have an abundance of low mutants, but far enough to have a lot of 3G in circulation. The ideal place for an activation coach to launch their career. There are a few start-ups havens in the Circle, but this one has more wannabe-coaches than any other.¡± ¡°Which also makes it one of those with the highest spread of mutation in the population. It made a lot of noise when our appointment announced they¡¯d stay independent. Nobody wanted to believe it, but it was an adult business from the start. The dojo we¡¯re going to is close to a shuttle stop, but we shouldn¡¯t be late if we just walk there. That way, we wouldn¡¯t have to do it later, if you want to see everything.¡± A vote led to them walking; all three dotters were curious. The bubble was¡­ not as different as expected, actually. The road was wider, with vehicles instead of magnetically levitating people. Stone was prevalent everywhere, instead of metal. Authentic trees replaced the artificial, comfort ones, but there were less than expected. They weren¡¯t protected either, anyone could touch them. The flashy buildings were separated by ill-lit, walkable alleys, they had more floors, and generally had a larger base area than individual business units, although they often shared that space between several companies. The most eye-catching part was the general mutations. It was a matter of course, but that didn¡¯t make seeing it in person any less impressive. Everyone had something, even if it wasn¡¯t always obvious. Exotic eye and hair colour were the minimum. Complete animal ears or horns were common. Eyes, less so, but Zax¡¯s nanites still spotted some. Where dotters had fur or scales in splotches, people here had full limbs covered, complete fingers, mittens, hands, even arms. They knew how to brandish it naturally too, without boasting. Their guide¡¯s clothes, or lack thereof, had been a clear example, but seeing bustling streets of people with holes in their outfits, or even eschewing pieces entirely, to show furry legs or leathery arms, was another experience. Some of those clothes had not been altered to be what they were, they had been designed from scratch to highlight specific parts of the wearer¡¯s body. Actual thought had been put to the cross-lacing around this woman¡¯s trunk, for no other discernible reason than highlighting her still-hardly-visible stripes. It wasn¡¯t impossible to make similar adjustments on the standard issue, but it wouldn¡¯t be cost or time-effective. It wasn¡¯t hard to figure out what their horned vanguard meant by ¡®spread of mutation¡¯ either. The most mutated specimens had full paws for feet, having digits and nails were the only human traits left on their hands, not-skin reached their shoulders and thighs, and the telltale signs of deeper mutations: inhuman eyes, fangs and tongues, partial nostrils or proto-muzzles, unusual posture, body spikes... usually more than two of those. The most obvious of the less mutated passersby only had off-coloured eye or hair colour, or the normal patches of not-skin, and they wore what the dotters would consider complete outfits. The more advanced didn¡¯t reach Cat and Dog¡¯s level ¨C Vester and Ertor ¨C but the less advanced could easily pass for dotters. The textbook example of advanced mutation and barely mutated, yet all mingled normally. They simply walked side by side, went to the same places with the same or at least similar vehicles, spent units in the same shops, played and discussed together. Zax was too caught up in the sea of mutation to ponder if this bubble had been chosen on purpose. If he had, he would have congratulated the negotiator; it did wonders to soften his defences. Not to lower them, but he would be more receptive to what they had to say. Instead, he was focused on pushing his nanites to the limits of their processing ability, recording and sorting more data than ever before. Advancement wasn¡¯t the only variety; there were all kind of alterations too. He was glad he had already increased the amount of nanites in his body, it made them significantly more capable. Luckily, his recent experiments already bore fruits; without them he would have definitely been overwhelmed. He didn¡¯t have a monopoly over excitement either, Aran and SG kept pointing and calling to every strange or colourful shopfront they passed, which was most of them. The variety was impressive too. A small clothing shop sat next to a middle-sized general store, which included a partner seed stall for people who wanted to grow their own plants. After them, an empty building was being moved in. According to the banner along the fa?ade, either an adult toy shop or a custom furniture maker was preparing for its grand opening, in two days. The name could be interpreted both ways, but they couldn¡¯t tell is it was on purpose. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The global layout didn¡¯t make sense, but that was probably because most businesses didn¡¯t last long enough for the managers to bother organising. ¡°And that one?¡± ¡°Gasp!¡± The two front guides couldn¡¯t help but inhale sharply when SG extended a wing to point a nearby sports gear supplier. Even their stalwart rearguard widened his eyes in surprise, the most emotion he had shown so far. ¡°What?¡± asked Aran. ¡°True wings!?¡± The horned woman whisper-yelled. ¡°I thought it was a cloak or something!¡± Suisen added in the same tone. ¡°Me too!¡± Bator insisted. Their target quickly folded her wings back and sunk on herself. ¡°Will that be a problem?¡± Zax and Aran defensively stepped closer to her. The gawkers exchanged a glance, wordlessly pushing for Bathor to answer: ¡°Well¡­ no, it¡¯s just, shocking, you know? You mentioned your guests having interesting mutations, but I didn¡¯t expect¡­ that! Fully converted limbs are exceptional, even here. I only saw it in pictures at school.¡± ¡°And in those pictures, the rest of the body was heavily affected too.¡± Suisen concurred. ¡°Enough to change their whole posture, at least. But you seem so¡­ human in general.¡± ¡°With those conspicuous, well-formed, not stealthy at all talons?¡± Aran pointed out. Their idea of what humans are like without mutations is a bit off. ¡°And I wasn¡¯t talking about her.¡± Zax corrected. ¡°How did you do?¡± Gatoro ignored the remarks. Everyone forgot their shock and turned towards him. It was the first time he spoke since their meeting. For some, the first time hearing his surprisingly deep and smooth voice. ¡°Well?¡± Velvety, almost. SG stayed silent and turned her eyes away, prompting Zax to clear his throat: ¡°Mhm. Like every mutation, we can only theorise on the why and how. In this case, it also happens to be a sensitive topic. Please don¡¯t insist on the question. Thank you.¡± An awkward silence filled their walk for a moment, but Suisen had other ideas: ¡°Can you fly?¡± He asked. ¡°I know it sounds crazy, but-¡± ¡°She can¡¯t, but close enough!¡± Aran pounced on the occasion to brag about her friend¡¯s acrobatic skills. She tried showing some recordings, but as expected her bracelet frizzled three seconds after she turned it on. The smoke coming off it killed what little hope of a demonstration remained in her. The rest of the group chuckled at her expression. She had to be content with energetically miming their lessons as she described them. Time flew, and the dojo was soon in front of them. At first glance, it was nothing special. Among the largest buildings they had come across, but nobody was coming in or out. The wide logo above the entrance and window shop, spelling the name ¡°Garuza¡¯s Dojo Arcade¡± in eye-catching font, with the catchphrase below: ¡°Ludic activation coaching: mutating had never been so amusing¡± left no doubt about what it was. It certainly attracted attention, but not more than the other places of similar size. At second glance, the logo had some rust on the edges and at the junction with the wall. Small tufts of grass and weeds dotted the angle with the sidewalk. The wall paint was faded, which was made more obvious by the freshly tagged mural around the windows. Even that freshness was only relative to the rest of the wall. It resulted in a building that, while clearly well-maintained and active, wasn¡¯t shy about its own age. Quite a contrast with the surroundings, who went to great lengths to appear as brand-new as possible. Is it on purpose? ¡°Dojo Arcade?¡± SG uncharacteristically asked aloud. ¡°Games and martial arts? Or sports in general?¡± Aran proposed. ¡°It would fit, but it seems mostly aimed at children.¡± Zax stated. ¡°That¡¯s it, but I didn¡¯t notice that many children here.¡± Bathor claimed as she reached the double door. A reception desk stood behind the entrance and to the right. An opening further behind it revealed a short hallway labelled ¡°Activation Rooms¡±, which revealed a door marked ¡°staff only¡± and hid the rest behind a left turn. On their left was a room full of various gym equipment named ¡°Physical¡±, and in the middle was a room filled with all kind of games named ¡°Mental¡±. Everything was easy to identify, just different from what could be found in the dot. None of the signs or labels were screens, just a hard material. Not metal, something softer and smoother. Everything besides the walls made at least some effort to appear wood-like, even the doors and the furniture. The lighting wasn¡¯t the usual glowing mould on functional bulbs, but strongly glowing panels; probably a stronger variant of the strain the dotters were used to. The resulting atmosphere felt, strangely alive for something so motionless. What wasn¡¯t motionless was the people. While the lobby was deserted, both open rooms were quite dynamic, with metallic noise and people grunting in effort or shouting encouragements. They couldn¡¯t be seen from the reception, and the sounds were muffled, but they couldn¡¯t be missed. The horned directly went to the receptionist, a barely teenage girl without obvious mutation, and introduced them: ¡°Hello. Bumper Mediator Services, we have an appointment to see Garuza.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve been warned.¡± The young girl rummaged around papers they couldn¡¯t see and nodded with an adequate customer service smile: ¡°I¡¯ll tell them you arrived. Feel free to see and test everything this floor has to offer.¡± This floor? ¡°This floor?¡± Aran said aloud what others thought silently. ¡°There are others?¡± It fit with the size of the building, but that wasn¡¯t the point: ¡°Yes. This floor has a great variety of standard equipment to train body and mind, on your own or in a group. From musculation to puzzles to video games, anything recognised as having an effect on the results of a 3G activation can be found here. The other floors are for more advanced or specialised services; mutation consultations, direct coaching, training programs, less-standard gear, that kind of thing.¡± The receptionist readily slipped in a rehearsed speech. ¡°That¡¯s where the boss is right now, but they should be here shortly.¡± The visitors nodded their acceptance and followed the proposition. Both main rooms were similar, with various machines filling as much space as safely available. The gym side had more mechanical ones; there just weren¡¯t many options for video games without electronics. Serious efforts had been made in that direction however; the crane games were all dials, cogs and levers. It really was a gym and a gaming room gathered in one place. Openings in the adjacent wall let visitors move directly from one to the other. Chairs and benches were laid out along the walls, to rest between sets and sessions or to watch the users. It explained why the lobby didn¡¯t have a waiting area; people had to see the inside to rest, it was like free advertisement. Paper posters on the side of each machines displayed a manual or game rules, ratings on how it could affect the user¡¯s next activation, and recommendations for beginners. Among the people milling around, Zax had expected more younglings in the arcade room and young adults in the sport room, but they were about evenly split, and none could be called children. The new visitors were discussing what to try first when they were startled by an androgynous voice behind them: ¡°Bumper Mediator Services, I suppose.¡± They turned around, revealing a tall and muscular man, covered head to toe in dark russet fur, except for the yellowish-orange beak taking up half his face, and the similarly coloured soft scales of his talon-like hands and feet. The imposing man glanced at each of them in turn, keeping Zax for last. ¡°We finally meet again.¡± He sounded¡­ relieved, somehow, but that wasn¡¯t what caught Zax¡¯s attention. ¡°I¡¯m-¡± ¡°¡®xX_Lil-Big-Birdie_Xx¡¯?¡± The one-word question left Zax¡¯s mouth without his input. ¡°¡­ ¡®123-YOLO*man-789¡¯!?¡± Their long-awaited appointment answered in shock. Chapter 59 - Former Acquaintances ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were a Resident.¡± Zax broke out of his surprise first. ¡°And we never considered you might not be one.¡± The furry bird-man replied. ¡°I have many questions, but it, actually explains a lot.¡± ¡°¡®We¡¯? Others too?¡± ¡°I think you¡¯re the exception here. The only one.¡± Awkward revelation. ¡°I¡¯m the only hobbyist? That¡¯s¡­ that would explain your reaction to IRL meeting. Among other things.¡± Zax sighed. ¡°Not the only hobbyist, although they tend not to stay. I meant the only dotter. Eh, and I can see how we could seem weird to you.¡± Garuza chuckled. ¡°We¡¯ve already met though, you and I. Before I choose this career. Let¡¯s go in my office, we have a lot to discuss.¡± He motioned for a door in the back labelled ¡°staff only¡±. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect that many people, but we can manage.¡± ¡°Before we go further, you should know this meeting is being recorded.¡± Zax stayed a step behind. ¡°I thought it would.¡± Garuza nodded. The others looked at each other, confirming their general confusion, before the two remaining dotters wordlessly followed; they didn¡¯t want to leave him alone. The Residents silently argued, they didn¡¯t want to risk catching his ire in a private space. They couldn¡¯t leave their quarry out of sight however, so Bathor was once again pushed forward. Meanwhile, Zax examined their host more attentively. Without visible skin, he couldn¡¯t determine his age; he was older than them, but not enough to dull his colours. He didn¡¯t wear any clothes or footwear, but he definitely didn¡¯t need protection from the environment either. His muscles were well-defined despite the mid-length fur smoothing them up; barely hinting at a lot of hidden power. He was not as large as Officer Bor, the high-ranked Enforcer, but his movements were more fluid; it was more of a swimmer¡¯s physique. Nanites confirmed his proportions were still human, so no changes in the skeleton, joints, or posture. Definitely a metabolic enhancement, to maintain those gains, but no detectable deeper mutations. Starting after his shoulders and above his knees, his fur was slightly darker. It was generally healthy and glossy, but it would benefit from a comb. Zax couldn¡¯t tell if the shine was natural or a result of self-care products, but it looked silky, pleasant to touch. No obvious smell. The top of his skull had rounded up to match his beak, but his yellow, prey bird eyes still had human size and position. It couldn¡¯t be measured yet, but he didn¡¯t appear to have a significant loss in facial muscle, either. He could still emote normally, which was impressive; a beak wasn¡¯t supposed to be as flexible and stretchy as a mouth, and a pliable nose-shaped bump could still be found in its upper frame. Zax had no idea of what could lead to this, and it hadn¡¯t happened in a while. His hands and feet too were interesting in their own ways. For that was what they were, despite the avian features. Five fingers and toes each, with heels and wrists; the right joints folding at the right places, in the right direction, and at the right angles. No spur. The yellowed scales were like skin-tight gloves reaching the middle of human shaped forearms and calves, hiding less than the fur and letting the veins and taut sinew pop-out. Not as deep a mutation as it seemed, but it wasn¡¯t far. His claws were black, curved, gleamed more than his fur, and were at least as long as the matching phalanx, but he didn¡¯t seem to register their presence. They always naturally stopped just shy of the ground or stairs he treaded upon, or the door handle he grabbed and twisted. He was not quite stealthy, but definitely not as loud as one would expect. The hobbyist couldn¡¯t tell if it was from a mutation or training, but either way, this subtle mastery was impressive. Zax was so engrossed in his examination, he didn¡¯t notice the door closing behind him. The blue walled office had enough room for the four visitors, but chairs had to be brought in. Their host didn¡¯t sit on the dedicated chair but on the front of his desk. Once everyone was settled, an uncomfortable stillness settled. The first involved were too distracted to talk first, and none of the other dared to intrude. Eventually, Aran¡¯s thirst for a juicy story got the better of her: ¡°So, you two know each other?¡± ¡°Hm.? Yes. Remember that community of mutation enthusiasts I¡¯m a part of?¡± Zax answered. ¡°The one where you try to decipher how mutations are decided?¡± ¡°Yes, among other things. He¡¯s also there.¡± He said simply. ¡°We¡¯ve had many enlightening discussions on the topic. Mutations are an easy way to identify someone, so we care a lot about anonymity. Asking for or freely giving personal information is between rude and taboo.¡± The other visitors frowned at that wording. ¡°Especially if it¡¯s not yours. I identified Mister Garuza here because he tried to be funny by using an actual picture of his own bust as profile portrait.¡± ¡°Actually, it was for the Carlovekish Principle.¡± The aforementioned party interjected, raising a finger. ¡°Uh. It worked better than I would have thought.¡± The dotter blinked. ¡°The what?¡± Aran didn¡¯t like being kept out of the loop. ¡°The Carlovekish Principle. Named after the first person who formally described it.¡± the hobbyist explained. ¡°Without diving in the details, it¡¯s the idea that seeing yourself as what you want to be makes your mutation more likely to lean in that direction. That includes how you introduce yourself and how others think of you.¡± ¡°Wearing clothes altered for the future you?¡± SG proposed in a small voice. ¡°Well caught.¡± Zax nodded. ¡°If it¡¯s on purpose and deviates enough from a normal outfit, it could work, yes.¡± ¡°It¡¯s one of the most common recommendations among my colleagues.¡± Garuza nodded along. ¡°Don¡¯t expect all custom-made clothes to heed this principle though, most people don¡¯t have such a precise idea of what they want.¡± If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Zax leaned forward, interested: ¡°Guess you did more than that? Your username, for a start.¡± ¡°Exactly. Plus all the basics, and mostly target projection. Thanks to my job at the time, I had a precise idea of what I wanted. I made various representations or had them made, printed and displayed everywhere I could in my personal space. Busts, close ups of different parts, artistic renditions¡­ The works, preferably by myself. Even animations and a VR avatar, once I was able.¡± ¡°Awesome.¡± Zax muttered under his breath. ¡°I can see the head is extremely close, but what about the rest?¡± ¡°Eh.¡± His large hand made a so-so move. ¡°Great except for the feathers. The colour is spot on though.¡± Zax took a few seconds to catch on: he was aiming for feathers, but he got fur instead. He was incredibly close to his goal, and he was an impressive specimen even without that, so this complaint was nothing short of ludicrous. Funny guy. ¡°I¡¯m not surprised you have so much success.¡± He chuckled. ¡°And how do we know each other, besides that? Sorry, but I really can¡¯t place you.¡± The man¡¯s back tensed so much his shoulders cracked, loudly. He kept a calm face, but the nanites picked up signs of emotional backlash. He glanced at the audience before answering: ¡°I am not allowed to give personal details about before my Residency was put in action.¡± He was a dotter before? ¡°I can, however, talk about the activation that made it happen, as its details are mentioned in the relocation process. Especially since you were present.¡± ¡°I was?¡± Zax blinked, then frowned and thought about it, ignoring his host bracing himself for¡­ something. Despite his hobby, he hadn¡¯t seen a lot of major activations in person, and this man was definitely not one of his childhood friends. That limited the list to three possibilities. One was a still a dotter a few months ago, and her mutation was reptilian. The last one happened in the Core, which was too recent and couldn¡¯t be related for reasons he¡¯d prefer to avoid recalling. That only left¡­ His eyebrows flew to the top of his head as dots connected. ¡°Yes. That¡¯s me.¡± The man confirmed when their eyes met again. Zax eyed him up and down with new eyes, but all he could say was: ¡°I would¡¯ve never recognised you. You¡¯ve changed a lot since.¡± His voice sounded far away to his ears. The obvious euphemism defused some of the heavy atmosphere. ¡°In more ways than one.¡± Garuza chuckled, relieved at the lack of explosion. ¡°I never thought playing, or having fun in general, could lead to an activation. I kept looking for other games to do it, which led me to other ways to activate, which led me to our forum¡­ Now, ¡®playing to activate¡¯ is literally my livelihood.¡± He spread his arms with a proud, but strained smile, showing everything around them. The whole building and probably beyond. ¡°One could say, our meeting paved my way to this life. I am infinitely grateful for that.¡± ¡°It paved my way to mine too, sort of.¡± Zax forced himself to kept going. ¡°So, I take it, from your reactions so far, there¡¯s a reason you never contacted me, and you know what happened on my side? What happened on yours?¡± ¡°Ah, yes. When your mediator friend described the talented hobbyist who wanted to meet me, I thought it might be you.¡± He nodded toward the sole other Resident in the room. ¡°No harm done if you weren¡¯t, and it seemed like an interesting encounter regardless.¡± ¡°Alright, time out.¡± Aran stood up and made a ¡°T¡± with her hands. ¡°It¡¯s a touching reunion, and I¡¯m sure it¡¯s interesting, but would you mind getting everyone up to date? What in the stars are you talking about? Were you star-crossed lovers or something?¡± ¡°I am not allowed to discuss the details.¡± Garuza repeated. ¡°I am.¡± Zax countered. ¡°Remember that Ghost Hand story? I was part of a team with two Residents and another dotter to make a game, it was bought by a big company in the Circle, but I was left out of it?¡± He recapped. ¡°He was the other dotter in the group.¡± ¡°The one who brought the game to the attention of that company because it activated him?¡± Aran glared accusingly at the fidgeting offender, who pointedly looked away. ¡°The one. Apparently, the activation impacted him more than the game. Or the company, or he wouldn¡¯t have left.¡± ¡°They told me your guardians wouldn¡¯t let you sign with us, despite the caretakers and many opportunities they offered.¡± The furry man pushed off his desk and paced in front of them as talked. ¡°It was weird, but I just thought maybe there had been a miscommunication somewhere. I proposed to help, but they threw some legal mumbo-jumbo to say it would void your contract and endanger mine. I didn¡¯t want to miss the opportunity and I had no reason to doubt them.¡± His eyes stayed down as he shook his head, burdened with regrets. It was an obvious manipulation in retrospect, but Zax couldn¡¯t blame him for falling for it. They knew what they were doing and what strings to pull. ¡°Years later, some colleagues asked me about a pirate version of that old game running around, but I didn¡¯t give it much credit. I was just a beta-tester, and it was a job for the legal team. It was a popular game, so it wasn¡¯t the first time. I only realised how serious this case was when I was investigated and interrogated. I still had my original copy, untouched since, so proving my innocence was easy, but it shook me. I had never seen that aspect of the company, but I just put it down to how seriously they took corporate spying. Then, way later, the investigation was dropped, even if the pirate version was still out there, and was still being updated, and no one had been punished for it. Even the media stopped talking about it, just like that. That¡¯s when I knew something was wrong. I investigated on my own, and I eventually found out the truth. What they had done to you. I confronted them, of course. My superiors. Do you want to know what they had to say for themselves?¡± He was still looking at the ground, but his expression made everyone flinch. His hackles went straight up. His hands were clasped so tight some scales split under the strain. A heavy silence settled in the room, only broken by his shivering deep breath. Nobody dared to move or answer, in case a sudden noise made that shimmering rage explode. ¡°¡®It¡¯s just business¡¯. It was all they needed. They despoiled a child. They lied to me. They lied to countless people. They snuffed untold futures. Without a care in the world. For business.¡± A very human growl overlapped the last word. He took a long inspiration to release the tension, calm down, and conclude: ¡°I left soon after. I already had a plan to change job and become an activation coach, so it wasn¡¯t a hard decision to make. I rushed a few things, is all. And I still couldn¡¯t contact you, because that part of their employment contract it still legally binding. Most first contacts with a former dotter had a clause like that.¡± A short silence ensued, but the tension was like him; depleted. ¡°I wanted to see you, to tell you; I¡¯m sorry I let that happen.¡± He looked back up, straight in Zax¡¯s eyes. ¡°I know it¡¯s irrational, I did the best I could with what I knew at the time, but the regrets are still there. And now I discover you even helped me after that.¡± ¡°I did?¡± ¡°He did?¡± Someone else called out. ¡°Your personal theory and some of your case-by-case analysis gave sense to a lot of cases that gave me a headache.¡± He nodded. ¡°Pretty sure I¡¯m not the only one either. It significantly raised my skills and my renown, and it would have been a lot harder to build what I did without your support. It¡¯s one of the few things all my colleagues agree on.¡± ¡°Uh.¡± Zax was stumped. The previous explanation fit with his personal experiences and his expectations, but surprises kept falling from the stars. ¡°But I¡¯m just a hobbyist¡­¡± ¡°Well, safe to say, it doesn¡¯t have to stay that way.¡± The furred bodybuilder chuckled. ¡°I wanted to repay my debt by helping you become a Resident, if that was what you wanted. I have a large network of contacts to find fitting lodgings and employment, and I could make an activation program to make you eligible for relocation. I now know you don¡¯t need me for the program, but the rest still stands. I would love to work here with you.¡± As an afterthought, he added: ¡°By the way, how come you never made an activation plan for yourself? You don¡¯t look mutated at all; I couldn¡¯t believe you were him at first.¡± Chapter 60 - Mad Giggles ¡°I did make an activation plan. Several, in fact, and I followed them all to the end, using every theory, trick and secret I know.¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°But as I said earlier, my life was paved in a different direction.¡± He kept a casual tone, but it didn¡¯t help the audience ease off. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ not sure I follow.¡± The professional activation coach frowned. ¡°I found something only I could do. Something I¡¯m uniquely suited for. And it¡¯s not compatible with life in the Circles. I¡¯m not interested in moving here, even if this job does seem awesome.¡± The dotter shook his head, waving the topic off. ¡°Studying mutations is and will always be just a hobby. I¡¯m not giving up on everything I built for a hobby.¡± He didn¡¯t give specifics as he didn¡¯t want to make things more awkward, and he had no way of explaining without sounding pandering or accusatory. ¡°Guess I should have expected that.¡± Garuza sighed and leaned back. He glanced at the rest of the room and frowned: ¡°Miss, are you alright?¡± Those words were aimed at Bathor, turning all eyes to her. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Pale face, sweat dripping from her forehead, shivers shaking her shoulders. She wasn¡¯t fine at all. ¡°Just nervous, is all. I don¡¯t understand either. What can possibly be something you¡¯re uniquely suited for, incompatible with the Circle, and so important you can¡¯t leave it for a better life? I mean, no offence, but ¡®Handyman¡¯ and ¡®shop owner¡¯ are not exactly dazzling career prospects.¡± ¡°I admit I¡¯m curious too.¡± Garuza supported the obvious diversion. ¡°Nano-technology. My unique suitability made me the best nanite user in the dot. Which means in the Shelter too.¡± Zax saw no reason to obscure that part. ¡°And probably the most profitable; but to be fair, others only use nano-technology as support for their main business. I¡¯m the only one I know who made it their staple. Also, we never talked about a better life; just a life here, making a career out of one of my hobbies, where I¡¯d never be taken seriously.¡± ¡°I can see why you¡¯d want to preserve that, but what does that have to do with a handyman?¡± The furry man wanted to clear that confusion first. ¡°I can do a bit of everything ¨C anything in theory, it has such a wide reach ¨C but people don¡¯t look for a ¡®nanite expert¡¯ when they want a professional solution to¡­ any problem, period. I officially became a handyman, because it was the closest thing for potential customers to look for.¡± ¡°You can do anything?¡± Aran asked. ¡°Why not taken seriously?¡± SG asked. ¡°What do you mean ¡®uniquely suited¡¯?¡± Bathor asked. ¡°Pretty sure it¡¯s not incompatible.¡± Garuza stated. The barrage of question caught him off-guard, but he did his best to answer: ¡°Nano-technology has applications in every field ever.¡± He looked at Aran next to him. ¡°In theory, it can do anything that can be done ¨C not miracles ¨C but I¡¯m not that good. I focused on certain aspects; the few times I could use the rest wouldn¡¯t be worth the effort.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be taken seriously because, come on.¡± Looking at SG on his other side, he held his hands to their host and to himself. ¡°Look at him, look at me, and tell me who you would trust to activate your next mutation?¡± ¡°And¡­ sorry, I didn¡¯t catch the last one.¡± He turned to the Residents. ¡°¡®What pretty is surely unicompatibly suited¡¯?¡± ¡°How can one be uniquely suited to¡­ study nano-technology?¡± Bathor repeated when the avian man made her go first. She looked better already, maybe it actually was nerves? ¡°Not to study it, to use it. Because of the size it operates at, it¡¯s very susceptible to disruptive fields. Like, forbiddingly sensitive. The best protection is to encompass the nanites in an air-tight contained made of organic matter. Very costly. Another option is to store them in a living organism. Those nanites have to stay active, or they¡¯ll naturally be expelled. Meaning: everything will be destroyed when that organism activates, no matter how minor this activation is.¡± ¡°Is that why there are rodents and miniature trees in your workshop?¡± Bathor queried. ¡°Yes, plants are the most common solution. Easy maintenance.¡± He nodded. ¡°The mice are there for experiments. No relation, though it might come later.¡± ¡°That also explains the normal sized apple in the miniature apple tree.¡± Aran declared. ¡°I thought it was a weird mutation.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s the opposite. Even as bonsai, apple trees are incredibly resilient. Even in the worst conditions, if they can produce an apple, they will produce an apple. That makes them ideal candidates for long term storage in any quantity of nanites.¡± ¡°Oh, okay.¡± She seemed disappointed, for some reason. ¡°I¡¯m sure you can guess, it¡¯s not exactly an ideal solution. Long-term storage and maintenance are solved, but usage or transport are still issues. Using your own body solves both in exchange for more usage wear, but you still want to activate sooner than later; so you need to expel your nanites every day, and absorb them back for the next work day. It¡¯s time consuming, and risks a loss. Every. Single. Time. In fact, I first got in the field when I was hired as living storage and carry, but since I don¡¯t and won¡¯t activate, it was a lot easier for me. No need for regular purges; convenience of storage, transport, usage, even maintenance, with no risk and no loss. When I realised it gave me a serious leg up on the competition, I decided to lean more into it. On thing led to another, and I eventually became¡­ the current me.¡± He concluded with a shrug. ¡°Very inspiring, but I don¡¯t see the ¡®uniquely suited¡¯ part.¡± ¡°Yes, what do you mean you ¡®don¡¯t activate¡¯?¡± The nonplussed Residents looked at him with strange expressions. ¡°Ah, did I say that aloud?¡± Zax blinked in belated realisation. So much for keeping the details to myself. ¡°Is it¡­ related, to the ¡®life paved for you¡¯ you mentioned earlier?¡± Garuza proposed, unsure. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. He was a sharp man, and activations were the core of his job, so he didn¡¯t take him long to connect the pieces. That didn¡¯t mean he wanted to be right. In fact, he unquestionably didn¡¯t want to, this time. He didn¡¯t know how to react to the confirmation: ¡°You know as well as I, nothing is ever certain about activations and triggers, but yes. It¡¯s the most logical explanation.¡± ¡°What? What do you mean? What did I miss?¡± Bathor looked at them alternatively. Aran and SG knew what they were talking about, but they were still confused about the exchange. They had an explanation for Zax¡¯s condition? Zax motioned a jittery Garuza to answer. He reluctantly complied, unease twisting his features, his eyes not leaving the human¡¯s: ¡°The 3G has a reduced effect on him. Any mutation will have a heightened cost. Because¡­ for a dotter, the First Circle is synonymous with mutations; and his subconscious rejects the Circle at the deepest levels.¡± ¡°What? That doesn¡¯t make sense. How could that affect his 3G?¡± She tensed. ¡°The more you like a trait or an animal, the more you want it or identify with it, the more likely you are to mutate in that direction.¡± Aran answered, her eyes saddened with understanding. ¡°Conversely, you won¡¯t mutate towards something you hate or that gives you the creeps. It¡¯s usually a subconscious decision, but what if you subconsciously reject everything? What if mutating is something you don¡¯t want, deep down?¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± The furry avian nodded appraisingly. ¡°The stronger the rejection, the stronger the cost to force the issue.¡± ¡°Like a disadvantage in activation rolls?¡± Aran simplified in her own way. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You mean he¡¯s, like¡­ the opposite of favoured by 3G? Disdained by 3G? Because of his past?¡± Bathor¡¯s shivers were back in force. ¡°Favoured by 3G?¡± Zax raised an eyebrow. ¡°Is that an expression for people who activate frequently?¡± ¡°Frequently, easily, or deeper than expected, for little effort or investment. Sometimes for one whose traits revert back once they change their mind, and so on. Many can say ¡®the 3G spoiled me¡¯ at least once in their life, but for some people it¡¯s so often it¡¯s uncanny.¡± Garuza explained. ¡°Uh.¡± Zax blinked. He wasn¡¯t aware, but what could it mean? ¡°It¡¯s more a superstition than a scientific fact, so we avoid using that term in the community. Nothing repeatable or measurable.¡± ¡°Right. But it does sound like the opposite of me.¡± ¡°How bad is it?¡± Bathor pleaded, forcing the conversation back on track. ¡°How bad can it be?¡± ¡°I never activated. Not a single mutation since I am born.¡± Zax casually dropped the bomb. ¡°Not even during puberty, when one is supposedly unavoidable.¡± ¡°What!?¡± Garuza straightened, shock plain on his features. He didn¡¯t expect it to be that bad. How could he? ¡°And it wasn¡¯t for a lack of trying.¡± He added, unconsciously rubbing his left elbow. ¡°I tried everything I knew. Including things I didn¡¯t believe in.¡± A stunned silence settled in the room. Zax gave them some time to process the information before completing: ¡°Safe to say, it¡¯ll never happen. I don¡¯t think so anyways. Maybe in a few years, if I kept absorbing part of my earnings? But I stopped doing that long ago.¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°At this point in my life, I don¡¯t want to activate either. It¡¯d mess with the other things I put in my body and what I built for myself.¡± His friends had not been aware of the relation between this past event and his situation, but they knew his feelings on the question. They didn¡¯t move from their seats nor offer empty consolations, but they couldn¡¯t help the downcast look they sent his way. Garuza was starring, mouth agape. It was an amusing sight with his beak, but no one was in the mood for fun. He was more astounded than if the dotter had grown a second head in front of him. That had a documented precedent, at least. Bathor seemed to disagree: she giggled, like after a nice joke. Then she laughed. Then she cackled. She cackled madly, drawing all eyes to her. Eyes that grew concerned, as she didn¡¯t stop, and she didn¡¯t react to their pleas. When she collapsed in front of her seat, breathing laboriously; the emergency of the situation dawned on the witnesses. Everybody jumped on their feet. Luckily, there was someone trained in advanced first aid in the room, even if that situation was outside the scope of his training. ¡°Bathor! Close your eyes! Focus on your breathing!¡± Zax shouted at her, slapped her cheek, to no effect. The bovine woman couldn¡¯t hear them. She kept squirming on the floor, choking on her own laugher. Zax didn¡¯t wait any longer; he pushed her on her back, tore her blouse apart, then her lingerie. He didn¡¯t register the unusual size and heft, he pinched her newly exposed nipples and twisted! The laugh stopped instantly, toned down to more manageable giggles, allowing her to take a deep breath. She was better, but it didn¡¯t sound healthy. Full laughs broke through occasionally, and her eyes were watery. ¡°It can come back any time.¡± Zax turned to Garuza. ¡°Do you have an infirmary?¡± All sports centre in the dot had at least one. ¡°Of course. Follow me.¡± The owner nodded, picking up the twitching woman like she had no weight and already on the move. ¡°We have to call emergency services; they¡¯ll bring her to a healing centre.¡± Zax added, noting how the impromptu carrier provided appropriate neck support without being told. ¡°Not necessarily. We have a physician on site.¡± Indeed, an actual physician would know better than them. The three dotters followed down the stairs, through a corridor, to a side entrance of the gym¡¯s infirmary, but they quickly left. With an actual professional to take care of things, they were not needed. The brief glance inside had shown a fully equipped room with several beds for wounded - and sick ¨C people of many body types, but there was no proper waiting room. Zax settled in one of the chairs along the adjacent wall; it would be awkward to leave now, and he felt a bit responsible for the state she was in. Aran and SG refused to go and enjoy the facilities; they trusted the owner more, but they still didn¡¯t want to leave him alone. Aran only relented to leave to explain the situation to Bathor¡¯s colleagues. She quickly came back, alone and frowning: ¡°They were weirded out, they didn¡¯t know what to do, and I don¡¯t think they cared.¡± Disheartening, but the lack of support could partially explain her stress level. Garuza had come back before Aran, leaning against the wall opposite from them. He wasn¡¯t helpful either, so the doctor had thrown him out once he was done explaining the situation. It drew a few smiles from the visitors, but they quickly moved back to speculating about that development. ¡°You don¡¯t want to mutate.¡± The activation coach summarised. ¡°It¡¯s feels strange to consider, but you have good reasons. Why would that stress her so much?¡± ¡°Well, she lured me here to improve how I see the Circle, so I¡¯d help her with something. Maybe she didn¡¯t realise how bad it was? It would make a waste of all her efforts so far, and she made a lot to reach this point.¡± ¡°What did she do?¡± Turned out, Garuza didn¡¯t know about Bumper Mediator¡¯s mission. It wasn¡¯t a surprise, with their mysterious insistence on secrecy, but the dotters didn¡¯t have such restraint. Ony Zax had signed an NDA, and SG had been present for most exchanges. ¡°Nice story, but there¡¯s still hope for her. Your lifestyle isn¡¯t that incompatible with the Circle; we have ways to block disrupt-¡± The door to the infirmary opened, interrupting him. The doctor had news. His outfit didn¡¯t have any holes to reveal mutations, so only his mismatched slit eyes were on display. A unique mutation; they were both yellowish, they moved in synch, but they didn¡¯t have same shade of yellow. More strikingly, they weren¡¯t split in the same direction; one was slit vertically, the other horizontally. Broken symmetry should either progressively fix itself or lead to strong divergence, but his converged to end up with similar results. Uncanny, especially when they widened. Wait, why were they widening? Focused on the doctor¡¯s eyes as he was, Zax was the first to notice the terror filling them. The following scream and slammed door weren¡¯t any less startling. Stunned silence followed, broken as usual by Aran: ¡°Is there a contagious mind virus floating around?¡± Chapter 61 - Doctor Shelley ¡°Wait here.¡± Garuza went after the strange doctor, frowning. The three dotters tried to figure out what had earned this reaction, but they came up blank. None of them had seen that man or woman before. They couldn¡¯t even ascertain their gender. Garuza quickly came back, asking that only Zax came in: ¡°She¡¯s been through a lot. Sometimes, something innocent triggers that kind of reaction, pushing her to isolate herself. A sound, a smell, an intonation; it can be anything. Having less people around helps.¡± ¡°PTSD?¡± Zax blinked. It hadn¡¯t looked like SG¡¯s episodes, but she did try to stay away from people when it happened. ¡°I¡¯m familiar, but will she be¡­ safe?¡± To be around? ¡°Don¡¯t worry. She¡¯s actively working on it, she¡¯s very competent, and she¡¯s never had an episode while examining a patient. Quite the opposite actually, working gives her something to focus on. That¡¯s why she¡¯s still practicing.¡± Now that looked like SG¡¯s treatment. ¡°And why she¡¯s practicing here and not in a healing centre, I figure?¡± Zax asked as he rose from his seat. He apologetically shrugged his friends, but they didn¡¯t mind as long as he was accompanied. They would go and do their own thing, there were two rooms full of interesting toys to play with. ¡°Something like that.¡± Garuza nodded. ¡°I trust her, and she trusts me. Also, no centres here, just clinics.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡± As Garuza closed the door, the doctor answered in his stead. ¡°Healing Centres are public institutions, meaning a government representative decides the resource allocation, quality insurance, general policies and so on. Clinics are businesses, private, meaning everything is managed by a single person or a board of not necessarily medical professionals.¡± Standing next to an unconscious Bathor¡¯s bed, the traumatised woman looked¡­ normal. A bored demeanour, but nothing betraying her first reaction. She briefly examined Zax has as he was examining her, and concluded her explanation: ¡°Both have different expectations and protocols. The skills, quality and resources available vary greatly, even between clinics. Same for the prices and services. Don¡¯t mix them up, and make sure you know which you¡¯re getting involved with.¡± ¡°Zax, meet Doctor Shelley, our physician and my newest coaching apprentice. Doctor, meet Zax, coaching hobbyist and consultant, old acquaintance of mine and hopefully a future friend of ours.¡± The professional coach introduced, full of sub-text. ¡°Nice to meet you, doctor.¡± Zax held his hand for a shake. ¡°You must have a wide array of expertise, if you work here.¡± ¡°I have, mostly in anatomy and physiology, but I¡¯m trying to branch out my practical side of the job.¡± The doctor weakly grabbed his hand and immediately let it go, as if afraid to be burnt. ¡°How is she?¡± Zax looked at the one-horned woman in the bed, not minding the awkward welcome. ¡°She¡¯ll be fine, for now. I gave her a light sedative to help relax and let her body recuperate, and I¡¯ll prescribe weak opiates to help her deal with the stress. That¡¯s all it was; stress. She should wake up soon. She¡¯ll have to be careful in the future though; if her life is that taxing, she could easily fall into addiction.¡± ¡°That¡¯s weird.¡± Zax frowned. ¡°From her behaviour since we met, she didn¡¯t seem to care about her mission. She¡¯s got a grip on herself since, but it shouldn¡¯t be to the point she¡¯d end up in that state. Her colleagues still don¡¯t care either; they didn¡¯t come to see her.¡± ¡°Either something changed in her situation, or deeper psychological issues are involved. In any case, we should have an answer when she wakes up, but it¡¯ll be outside my purview.¡± ¡°I see. Why are your eyes like that?¡± ¡°What?¡± Unfortunately, the doctor didn¡¯t miss the change of topic. Zax had hoped for a brain-lapse untying her tongue. ¡°Wait, don¡¯t answer that.¡± Garuza intervened. ¡°I have an idea for later. For now, Zax. I was saying earlier, you could work in the Circle if you wanted. We have ways to lessen the disruptive fields, I¡¯m sure some would work on your nanites.¡± ¡°Nanites?¡± The Doctor¡¯s confusion was ignored. ¡°You might be undervaluing how brittle and sensitive they are.¡± Zax raised a sceptical eyebrow. ¡°See those blue walls?¡± A claw pointed in circle around them. ¡°It¡¯s a recent development. A new isolating paint, the same¡¯s used in my office. I don¡¯t think the news reached the dot yet, the main component is a microscopic mushroom. A living one. It greatly weakens the field, and it covers everything. Can you use that as protection?¡± ¡°If it just weakens, no. But¡­ maybe for storage? It might be viable as solvent or capsules. Both? How big are the mushrooms? With all the 3G around, isn¡¯t it dangerous to have a living organism covering everything in the rooms you have important technology in?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know the exact size, but the 3G is not an issue. The mushroom¡¯s organism is so small and simple, we naturally rip it out of them.¡± ¡°Ah, right, ¡®the 3G prefers a complex life form¡¯.¡± The maxim was common knowledge, even taught to children. ¡°That¡¯s why mutant microbes don¡¯t happen naturally. Worth a try in the dot, but even if it works, what kind of business opportunities do I have here? Even dotters don¡¯t trust nano-technology, and they definitely don¡¯t think of it as an answer to their issues.¡± Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Don¡¯t know. You said you can do anything, I¡¯m sure you can find something. I just wanted to clear your misconception.¡± The muscular almost avian shrugged. ¡°Now, I have a proposition for you. See, you¡¯re both pretty unique cases, as far as mutations are concerned.¡± He opened his talons to Zax and Shelley. It¡¯s certainly one way to see it. They glanced at each other. One was surprised at the change of topic, the other that this visitor would get such praise. ¡°Here¡¯s my idea: I¡¯d like you two to examine and evaluate each other¡¯s mutation. Maybe to coach each other too, if you like the results. I think it could greatly help you both improve at several levels; I can guarantee you are something the other never considered before! Of course, you¡¯re not allowed to directly explain your case. It would defeat the point.¡± ¡°It does sounds interesting.¡± Zax admitted, looking at his future subject. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like you before.¡± ¡°Why would we do that?¡± Doctor Shelley asked frankly, leaning back on the bedtable. ¡°You already know everything.¡± ¡°Curiosity?¡± Garuza proposed. ¡°Challenge?¡± Zax added. ¡°And self-improvement.¡± The coach crossed his furry arms. ¡°You need the training, and don¡¯t think I haven¡¯t noticed your recent stagnation.¡± The doctor didn¡¯t answer and avoided his gaze. ¡°Then it¡¯s settled. I¡¯ll let you two discuss the details. I look forward to hear what you have to say.¡± He grinned, rubbing his scaly hands together. ¡°Guess I¡¯ll spend time in the Circle no matter what.¡± Zax chuckled. ¡°Really?!¡± Bathor exclaimed. Three heads turned toward the bed, watching the woman rising too fast and falling back with a hand clenching her forehead. Her wide eyes clenched shut to avoid vertigo. ¡°You¡¯ve been brought to the nursing room. Do you remember what happened?¡± She only remembered terrible news and a creepy laugh coming from the stars knew where. A quick examination and questions confirmed the former diagnostic and prescription, but the patient was more interested in the recent development. She had only heard the end of the conversation. ¡°I didn¡¯t know how long Bathor¡¯s tour would take, so I already prepared my job for a temporarily reduced activity. I¡¯ll still have to go back before curfew though; I can¡¯t leave my experiments alone that long.¡± Zax detailed. ¡°I don¡¯t need that long to examine you, and we have everything we need here. I could start right now and be done before you leave. Might take longer to analyse the results, but I don¡¯t need you in person for that.¡± Shelley proposed. ¡°I have everything I need too. I only need your consent, and ideally, somewhere without disruptive fields. I may be able to do without the last, but it would be inconvenient. For us both.¡± ¡°The question is already set.¡± She frowned. ¡°Not the procedure¡¯s. I¡¯m asking if I can put nano-technology inside your body. Billions of tiny machines that will do whatever. I can guarantee the safety of the software and hardware, but people tend to dislike the idea.¡± The doctor opened her mouth, but Zax didn¡¯t let her begin. ¡°You¡¯d have to swallow a few pills, I¡¯ll set them to do their thing ¨C scan your body ¨C, then let them do it for a while ¨C usually a day and a night ¨C, and get them back when it¡¯s over. It gives me a detailed template of your body, and I go from there. I¡¯ll probably have questions too. Now, do I have your consent? You can ask for more details from Bathor here, or from my friends outside. They¡¯ve been though it already.¡± The woman hesitated; she hadn¡¯t expected this. She threw a questioning look to their common friend, but he kept his expression unreadable. She was on her own. She subtly, but quickly nodded. Decisive. I respect that. Bathor stayed evasive about the reasons behind her breakdown, but she at least knew what they were. Professionals were recommended, but contacting them would have to be her effort. Another subtle difference; doctors in the dot were allowed to schedule a mandatory health appointment with a specialist, especially for mental issues. The main computer made it a breeze. From her subtle hints, it wasn¡¯t that hard to figure the straw that broke the camel¡¯s back: they or she had planned on using this visit to promise to help Zax to mutate and move in the Circle, in exchange for his help with their thing, and she had been shown the folly in that idea. Or something similar. In any case, he was bound to come back a few times, so not all hope was lost. She went back to her team for a new change of plan, although she still didn¡¯t want to simply explain what they needed from him. This room had the highest protection the building had to offer, so Zax made nanites pills from the excess in his own body, smaller and more brittle than the common balls. Nanites for medical use had to avoid contact with the environment; that was one of the points of the Z-Boxes. He couldn¡¯t bring any, so he made do. He had planned for it. The witnesses were suitably impressed when he clapped his palms together, did nothing visible, and opened them with a pill coated with non-medical but bio-compatible building nanites. He had to do it a few times to accumulate enough, separating the type as relevant. Shelley swallowed with water as he made them. Afterwards, Zax put a palm against her belly, just below her ribcage, to send his trigger command, opening the coating and spreading in the subject¡¯s systems. He kept his hand in place until the key parts were installed, using their direct feedback to smooth everything out better than the program would on its own. If she was a special case, it didn¡¯t hurt to be extra careful. ¡°I may want to examine your body directly later, but it can wait. Your turn now.¡± Their process was straightforward; they used a complete check-up like he did his templates. Shelley took notes on his size, proportions, weight, strength, stamina, reflexes, critical and logical thinking, she questioned his diet, sleeping habits, lifestyle, hobbies¡­ too impersonal for his tastes, but quite thorough, it had to be said. More flexible and thoughtful than it seemed too, sensitive questions were danced around and alluded to before coming. His medical history being ready and available surprised the Residents ¨C another cultural shock ¨C but it was a welcome surprise. As promised, they didn¡¯t take that long to finish. The Resident chaperones weren¡¯t back by the time the dotters left the dojo arcade, with a few hours to spare before they had to take the train back. When they asked, Garuza recommended a few places to visit, and where to find gatherings of least mutated people, like the ones who had sold him their templates. Turned out, they were called the disfavoured, because ¡°disfavoured by the 3G¡±. Luckily, or because Bathor had started her search in the area, they had an officiously designated block in this bubble. Not every bubble let them stay, but in those who did, they tended to gather their personal lives in the same area, called a slum even if in pristine state. This bubble was a hotspot for them, so the slums were almost a full block. Not a surprise. On one hand, they were cheap manpower, desperate enough to take tasks others didn¡¯t want without complaints. On the other hand, new companies were more likely to need them as much as they needed the job, which meant better treatment and an actual possibility of long-term employment. Those dotters in all but name helped each other and even had a sort of hierarchy. They normally used abandoned buildings ¨C the mere idea of buildings being left unused appalling the actual dotters ¨C and strange rumours circulated about what they did, hidden there. From their brief interactions, Zax had fleetingly compared them to a para-society. It now rang truer than ever. The dotters were advised against going, but didn¡¯t comment on it. This trip had already been interesting, and it could be even more so. First things first, though: sightseeing! Chapter 62 - Tourists Their host had called the mushroom paint a new development, but it was by no means a rarity. Considering the importance of its function, Zax expected the production to be tightly controlled, and the product costly and hard to obtain, regardless of the actual difficulty of production. While it was certainly costly, they couldn¡¯t pass a street without at least one shop loudly proclaiming a ¡°limited stock in their catalogue¡±. He might have overstated how much the Circle cared about protecting their machines. Or maybe the Great Families made sure none of them gained a decisive advantage over themselves? Or maybe they had other ways to manage the disruptive field issue, so this one didn¡¯t seem that important? Convenient. The three dotters went to the advertising shops, one after the other, taking in the sights and trying other interesting shops along way. The streets, the buildings, the noise, the smells, the people, the space¡­ The mix of familiarity and novelty was thrilling. ¡°It¡¯s like exploring an old map with new mods.¡± Aran described the experience in her unique way, smiling from ear to ear. Zax and SG found themselves mirroring her reaction. The first shops they went to couldn¡¯t answer questions about the specifics of the shroom-paint, but they eventually found one who did. A smaller home appliance store, with a single employee ¨C slightly too long fingers, no obvious mutated traits ¨C and an old owner-manager ¨C short, full body frizzy fur and a proto-muzzle ¨C who was more organised than their previous stops. The paint didn¡¯t have an official name, which was common for new products in the Circle. Every seller had their own, and the catchiest of the dominating ones would become the official label. They had yet to reach that point. ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem good for customer recognition.¡± Zax noted. ¡°It¡¯s just how it is.¡± The owner shrugged. Doesn¡¯t feel natural, but nevermind. Anyway, the dried paint was as expected; too porous to the disruptive field for his needs. To the naked eye, a layer of paint appeared uniform, but it was merely the actual paint filling the space between the mycelium network. The mycelium itself was blue, so the pain had a matching hue; no other colour was available yet. The network itself was irregular, so adding layers didn¡¯t make a significant difference unless it was ludicrously thick, but it would collapse under its own weight before reaching that point. On the other hand, the mushrooms could include several macrites per unit, they were easy to assemble and disassemble mechanically with any painting gear, and the chemically inert solvent shouldn¡¯t damage his additions. Hiding in the mushrooms, or in-between, forcefully assembling a more complete layer; Zax could see a few viable options to work with. ¡°Worth a shot.¡± He decided. He took a normal pot of paint, enough to cover a small room, plus a few brushes and a paint roller. They were not made like the dot¡¯s, so they might not interact the same way. Everything with a common counterpart in the dot was more expensive, but everything else cost variably less than expected. Unfortunately, it was only articles they wouldn¡¯t need or be able to use, like paper books, leather gloves or plastic utensils. ¡°Why not?¡± SG queried when the others refused to consider taking some interesting trinkets for themselves. ¡°This ¡®plastic¡¯ thing is awesome. I didn¡¯t know it was everywhere, I don¡¯t remember seeing it in the dot¡­¡± That was when it downed on her she was missing something. She cast a wordless question at her friends. ¡°It¡¯s organic.¡± Aran explained, matter-of-fact. When the interrogative eye didn¡¯t go away, Zax went deeper in the explanation: ¡°You know how organic materials absorb 3G, and just touching it let you absorb it yourself?¡± The winged girl nodded. They avoided thinking about it, but they hadn¡¯t forgotten what was hidden under their couch. ¡°That¡¯s why they are so rare ¨C and expensive ¨C in the dot. Two main reasons: one, they make it really easy to steal or simply lose 3G. A well-placed cotton thread, a lucky timing, and your whole stash is suddenly in a small cotton piece you blew away in the wind. In the dot, each physical unit is too important to risk it. ¡®Who would keep a physical stash in the dot?¡¯ you ask? Excellent question. People can have reasons, but it¡¯s mostly to protect the distributions points. ¡®Just pay attention, it¡¯s not that hard¡¯ you say? My dear apprentice, you underestimate how dumb people can be, and how good they are at making it everyone else¡¯s problem. Also, don¡¯t forget about children and pranks.¡± SG leaned her head to the side in confusion; she hadn¡¯t asked anything. ¡°Two, it makes activation even more unpredictable. Distributions points are placed far from sensitive machines, because activations are more likely to happen there. Any organic material, especially used in construction, could become a surprise distribution point. Free 3G, spontaneous mutation, huzza, but everything around is destroyed. Video games. Classrooms. Communications. Healing centre. Atmospheric control.¡± Following the list, SG could picture the consequences. The dot could handle occasional sporadic disfunctions even of essential structures, but if they were frequent and sporadic? She hadn¡¯t seen many movies with that premise, but it was enough to send shivers down her spine. ¡°And good luck proving you didn¡¯t do it on purpose. So, yeah. Nowadays, most plastics are either synthetic or highly processed, so not that good at absorbing 3G, especially compared to wood, leather, cotton or silk, but not something to normalise. Ever.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°You can still bring some.¡± Aran tempered the warning, nodding to the items between her wings. ¡°Just don¡¯t spread it around, mind what you¡¯re doing with it and where you¡¯re doing it.¡± SG put the handbag back where it came from, but kept the feather-body paint kit. It wasn¡¯t something they would find in the dot; not enough potential buyers. Aran took a peculiar toy called Cat¡¯s Cradle; a colourful but otherwise ordinary thread, used to make increasingly complex shapes and figures. Materially speaking, the instruction packet was probably worth more than the toy itself. Zax was surprised he had never seen a game like that; it seemed common and easy to make. Among their stops were a few clothing stores and even a pet shop. The former were, frankly, disappointing. Sure, the variety was beyond what the dot could offer, but it was mostly due to the variety of body types, and creativity had left the buildings. The key point of the Circle¡¯s fashion, adaptability, was nowhere to be seen. Rows of identical pieces, down to the same cuts along the sleeves, were the staple of the businesses they visited. No way to adapt them to a new mutation, the Residents would have to buy a new wardrobe every time. Conformist diversity. Never saw that coming. Not to say the professional clothes adjuster had wasted his time: the techniques some of the popular pieces displayed was something he had never observed before. SG also bought a lot. Physically shopping for clothes with her friends, actually trying them to see how they fit instead of VR; it was a new experience for them all, but she was particularly receptive, all giddy and flustered. The pet shop, on the other hand, was a more engaging experience. The building was not particularly large for the Circle, but still a lot larger than the dot¡¯s average. The layout was as one would expect, different sections for different environments fitting different types of creatures, with subsections for more specific distinctions. Cats and Dogs separated in the unclimatised ¡°mammals¡± section, with monkeys in communicating, suspended cages above them; a warmed ¡°Reptiles¡± section with snakes in individual vivarium covering a whole wall, tortoises in a single walk-in pen. There was also an area for aquatic pets and one for various accessories. Funnily enough, those were not separated by type of animal. Every beastie could enjoy the same toys and decorations, it seemed. The main novelty was the ambience. In the Circle, the streets and other buildings were larger and more bustling than the dot, but all the smells, noises and movements were undoubtedly from humans or human activity. The dot¡¯s parks had a more natural atmosphere, but nature stayed quiet and peaceful. Not here. Growls and grunts, tweets and chirps, meowls, hisses¡­ No animal was above middle size and weight, but they sure didn¡¯t sound like it. The change was jarring, but not unpleasant. Just¡­ different. It was like a new world. Within the current new world. Less noisy but as unsettling was the ¡°Insects and Arachnids¡± section. Unsettling not only from the products, but because its existence implied an actual market. Enough people were willing to pay for creepy crawlies, dangerous for even the most advanced machine even without 3G, that other people bred them for sale. Even for a Circle, it seemed alarmingly reckless. It was not a small scale either, this section was barely smaller than the others. An employee reassured Zax the smaller ones were mostly used as food for the larger creatures, ¡°the same way live mice are sold as snake snacks¡±. Still creepy, but less dreadful. The employee also pointed that they didn¡¯t sell flying ones ¨C special licences and equipment were required ¨C so the risk was actually manageable. After some observation, Zax briefly considered using a few for his job. Anthills and spider colonies had a natural hierarchy, it could be used to store and sort memory and tasks; some even built complex structures with their own bodies. Spiders also produced silk; nanites could be mixed in from the source. Worms cleaned and recycled the materials they lived and dug in; they could be used to sort and maybe even fix nanites. Those were merely the first ideas popping up in his head, but while academically interesting, he had no intention of following through. Too disgusting, and he didn¡¯t expect much yield without serious investments. Aran and SG considered giving new friends to their own companions, but the price tag discouraged them. It was a lot more than in the dot; perhaps an effect of the Circle¡¯s view on the worth of living organisms. To be fair, the dot¡¯s seller was a hobbyist, money wasn¡¯t as important to him. They eventually settled for toys and special treats for the mice they already had. Zax took treats too; giving appropriate rewards was a given for any experiment. By then the excitement and novelty had abated, so there were less stops until their final destination: the Disfavoured¡¯s block. That name made them cringe every time they thought about it. It was fortunate they had instructions to reach the place; besides the occasional glare, the neighbouring Residents ignored it and avoided talking about it with nearly religious zeal. It would be hard to not notice when they had arrived however. Besides the street suddenly being less busy, the plants were overgrown, the shops didn¡¯t vie for attention, fa?ades were dulled by age, and whatever luminescent signs there had been had lost any radiance. The buildings themselves didn¡¯t change; nothing appeared particularly dirty or ill-maintained. The few people around looked and behaved like regular Residents, down to the disapproving frown when looking at the visitors. If the rest of the bubble was a frantic competition between everyone about everything, this part was a more measured, balanced rivalry. A breather in the endless race. ¡°We¡¯re here. What now?¡± Aran asked. ¡°Hm, door-to-door, I guess?¡± Zax proposed. He hadn¡¯t thought that far. They looked around, seeing only shops and a bus stop. A closer look confirmed there was no map. ¡°Let¡¯s start with that shop over there. We can also ask if there¡¯s a residential area or a social gathering point nearby.¡± The local owners didn¡¯t mind giving directions to the social centre, but they were less open to discussions about their own bodies. When the topic was broached, they clammed up before nanites could even be mentioned. In hindsight, it wasn¡¯t surprising. As Disfavoured, any comment they ever received was probably a slight. Being defensive was a natural reaction. It would make things more difficult, but they had no better option than trying again. Which they did, on the way to their new sub-objective. Aran might have too much influence on her friend¡¯s thought process. It didn¡¯t take long to realise that despite its apparent state, this block had everything it needed to exist on its own; food, clothing, entertainment, even things they hadn¡¯t seen yet, like a school and a children park. The quality and prices of fares were lower, but still more than the dot would propose. The mutations were as varied, but both the top and bottom ends of the spectrum had been greatly lowered. Especially the top end, although they could just be less obvious or internal. The social centre was an ordinary building, close to the centre of the block, with a large playground. Games were painted on the tarred surface, some were unknown, but most were familiar. Nostalgy put a brief smile on Zax¡¯s lips. It was open, so the trio let themselves in. ¡°Hello and welcome to-¡± ¡°You!?¡± The shocked voice came from an advanced mutant looking wide-eyed at Zax from behind a group of sitting unmutated children. It took him a few seconds to get over his own surprise: ¡°Hello. Vester.¡± Chapter 63 - New Vester Vester¡¯s life had taken an abrupt turn since the debacle in the Core, and he was solely responsible. Upon returning, Ertor and he had the same idea: they had been played, the rules of the Family twisted and turned against them, and it wouldn¡¯t stand. A rare instance where they willingly worked together. One went to the internal affairs of their company and revealed everything they had been ordered to keep under wraps. The other reported to a branch of the Enforcers without ties to their company or the Family. They had already reported everything to the dot¡¯s Enforcers during their quarantine, but they had seen and heard enough to be wary. An investigation had indeed been launched, but everyone was being difficult. Enforcers took their sweet time processing the reports, whoever was interrogated gave perfunctory answers at best, was sometimes hostile and usually dismissive. Progress was the opposite of smooth. Even their direct superior, who had given them the fake orders and was a clear accomplice, only earned a slap on the wrist for disrespecting protocol. As if it wasn¡¯t enough, the detectives were also forbidden from being loud about it, to protect the Families¡¯ reputation. Whoever was interrogated ¨C suspect or witness ¨C only had to make a scene and they would be free to go. It was hard to say who was an accomplice, incompetent, or simply failed to grasp how important the investigation was. Neither he nor the dog appreciated this situation, but they understood the need to protect the Family¡¯s interest. It had been drilled in them both since childhood, after all. Only Vester considered finding who was responsible and stopping them as more important than the Family itself. He couldn¡¯t help it. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the atrocious scene they had interrupted. The nightmare this girl had been through. Every time he was alone with his thoughts, he heard sobs mixing with falling water. He smelt blood and disinfectant. He felt handfuls of his fur grabbed by trembling hands. Most of all, he remembered how powerless he had felt, unable to even comfort her, and he hated it. He had to do something. He just had to. The feline mutant repeatedly raised his concerns to the higher-ups, but they were constantly dismissed, until he was threatened with demotion if he didn¡¯t stop bringing it up. ¡°Why can¡¯t you be more like you cousin?¡± They had sighed. He had heard that question all his childhood. All his life. Every time he did something he shouldn¡¯t have, or didn¡¯t do something he should have. It had always been his motivation. Besting the dog. Surpassing Ertor. Becoming the pride of the Family; the one everyone aspired to be. When this sentence was used, he always made sure to remember what had led to it. He fixed his behaviour, and moved one step closer to his goal. This time was no different; he reviewed all the times he had been told that sentence, the effect it had had on him, his views, his interactions. This time something was different. A realisation. Something he never suspected. Maybe he refused to see it. He was not moving closer to his goal. He was moving closer to theirs. He was being moulded into something, something that wasn¡¯t supposed to be capable, only seen and heard. And the same was true for Ertor. They were usually the most mutated people around, so they were supposed to take over any team, including emergency responses. It had taken an actual emergency, far from home, to realise what little difference they actually made. How lost they were among other responders. They weren¡¯t even kept out of the loop; everyone talked aloud for everyone around to listen and react to. Even the nanite-guy, who had arrived after everyone and didn¡¯t know why he had been called, had found his place and fit in naturally; making relevant observations, giving sound advices and following orders even when overwhelmed. Something clicked in Vester¡¯s mind. Of course they would be lost. They had never been taught how to help. Only how to ¡°make sure the Family is/stays in charge¡±, and ¡°ensure everyone knows it¡±. Their interactions with any team were to remind of their presence and, it seemed so obvious now, they had always been catered to apply their lessons away from anything else. Does every team have people trained to placate us? The feline mutant tried to dismiss the ludicrous thought, but it was the only explanation he had for¡­ his whole life so far. People and teammates acted the same in groups under several Families, and in groups his was not involved with. It was normal for every Family; the whole Circle was built on that template! When anything major happened or had to happen, it was to be associated to at least a Family¡­ via figureheads. No, not figureheads exactly. They weren¡¯t the face of their families, famous or particularly recognisable. They were not expendable, but not the only ones either. What then? Markers? Flags? ¡­ ¡°Living Flags¡± felt disturbingly close. A far cry from the Paragon, the pillar of support he aimed to be. And now he was told to shut up and stop trying to do something. He couldn¡¯t deny it; the normal way wouldn¡¯t let him act. He was in a dead-end, and he was alone. Maybe not. Ertor was in the same situation, so he should feel the same. They could work together, as uncomfortable as the thought still was. If only life was that simple. The dog agreed with his observations and conclusions; the role they were groomed for since their first mutation was a show for non-Family people, and they were unable to help anyone. Unlike Vester, he didn¡¯t mind. At all. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°We all have our part to play.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Ours is to spread the Family¡¯s reach. Someone else will help, so let them do their thing while we do ours.¡± Technically, he wasn¡¯t wrong. Their role didn¡¯t require them being helpful. They had no reason to be before, and only the unique, specific and unlikely situation in the Core had demanded more from them. They could perfectly forget about it and keep going on with their life as it was. It was a good life. It was not the life Vester had worked so hard for, all those years. ¡°All the 3G and resources invested in us, just to look good and do nothing?¡± ¡°Advanced as we are, we should be more useful than that.¡± ¡°We have so much more potential than others, we can¡¯t waste it.¡± ¡°We can do more than any civilian and many professionals, why don¡¯t we?¡± He had many reasons to not let things as they were, but they were all met with the same wall: ¡°The Family decided, and they know best.¡± Ertor wasn¡¯t wrong about that either. Vester was not blocked by a few corrupt individuals or an incompetent minority; everything had been officially ordered, reviewed and approved by the higher-ups of the Family, by-the-book and following protocol. The Family and the system as a whole were against him. Even this empty role of his was something they had made happen. If that¡¯s who the Family wants me to be, I don¡¯t need that family anymore. ¡°To think we despised the dotters for giving their souls up or the machines.¡± Were the last, bitter words he spoke to his lifelong rival. He truly was alone. Hurt and disillusioned, he resorted to methods going against everything he had ever been taught. Needless to say, neither the company nor the Family were pleased when the whole affair was anonymously made public, including the bribery in their midst and their reaction, or lack thereof. He didn¡¯t care. Since the scandal was already raised, and the leak was from inside, the detectives couldn¡¯t be blamed for it and had more options. That day, the feline mutant made allies in the force, but he lost everything he ever knew. He hadn¡¯t made a lot of effort to hide he was the leak, and it didn¡¯t take long to make an unrelated excuse to expel him from the company and banish him from the Family. Vester was not a Brahn anymore. It was not a surprise, but usually there were warnings and loopholes before expulsion was on the table. Which made him think his past dissensions were never taken seriously, even at his worst. It only comforted him in his decision. A pivot of the Family, my clawed foot. He didn¡¯t want to be part of such a selfish and hypocrite Family. Then came the reality check. Regardless of his feelings on the question, he was still unemployed and without direction. His savings would hold him a while, but he didn¡¯t know how long. He never had to manage a budget before. Or do groceries. He only knew how to do laundry and basic cooking from brief military camps he had been forced to attend. Irony or karma, he was saved by the incidental allies he had made with his stunt. The detectives advised him on where to go and what to do. Eety supported him emotionally and listed what he needed. He had kept it secret, but they had stayed in touch. She just wouldn¡¯t let him be. As an advanced mutant, he never had trouble finding a job, but he never stayed long. They all missed something, though he couldn¡¯t tell what. Living normally, he wouldn¡¯t need employment for a few years anyway. Leaving the cradle and living in real life also showed him how narrow and na?ve his worldview was. Lazy or hard-working people didn¡¯t always get what they deserved; accidents could happen anytime to anyone; nothing was ever certain. As someone who grew up with all life events scheduled since childhood, it blew his mind. His new friends also helped him find what he was missing: an objective. Something to do, to strive for, beside existing. Considering all the recent revelations, it wasn¡¯t hard to find one that resonated with him: to help the less fortunate. He started visiting healing centres to comfort lonely or desperate patients, donating to the poorer ones and mingling with non-profit organisations ¨C exposing him to more of a corruption he had never considered. Naturally, it was only a matter of time before he crossed path with a Disfavoured. Their contacts with were tenuous at first; prejudice ran deep in both sides. Regardless, he genuinely wanted to help, and they genuinely needed help. The youngest ones saw it, and who would better close an undeserved gap between people than unbiased children? They had a surprisingly strong effect on the adult population too. Strong family bonds. Ignoring the pang in his heart at the thought, Vester progressively got more and more involved with their lives, and some gradually warmed up to him. Just in time too; severe changes were shaking the community, and not necessarily for the better. By now, his old life and his former self were but memories. While painful at times, there was no regret. The last thing he ever expected was a resurgence from his past. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± The creepy dotter he had accompanied in the Core asked first. Looking around, he added: ¡°Where¡¯s the other one?¡± ¡°I saw what I had become, I didn¡¯t like it, but it was exactly what they want me to be, so I quit.¡± Vester answered without thinking. He had been asked the first question so many times the answer was automatic. ¡°Alone.¡± He added, for the second question. ¡°That must¡¯ve been hard. Congratulations.¡± The human nodded to him with a respect the cat was certain he had never seen before. He had witnessed a large array of reactions to his explanation; surprise, confusion, scorn, denial, suspicion, even anger, but it was the first time someone praised him. Only as it happened, did he realise how much he needed it. It felt like a balm on his soul, appeasing worries and doubts he hadn¡¯t been aware of. ¡°It was.¡± He let go of a breath he hadn¡¯t realised he was holding, and followed with his own question. ¡°And you? Why are you here?¡± ¡°I came for business, with my friends for emotional support.¡± He nodded to the girls next to him. ¡°Aran.¡± She smiled like at an old friend. ¡°SG.¡± She muttered and avoided eye contact. ¡°Vester.¡± He reflexively nodded back. Funny, the shy one is the most mutated. Somehow, he had missed them. He remembered seeing the tailed girl in their quarantine after the Core, but they hadn¡¯t interacted. The feathery girl was new though. ¡°Then a bit of touristry since we had time on the way here, and now hobby.¡± Zax continued. ¡°Hobby?¡± ¡°Hobby.¡± He confirmed. The rest was mostly directed to Cerba, the flabbergasted receptionist who had been interrupted. ¡°A precedent was set, so I was hoping to buy templates from Residents more likely to agree. A shop keeper advised us to try here. Ah, sorry. Hello Miss, my name¡¯s Zax, nice to meet you. Hello children.¡± He belatedly nodded to them. ¡°Heeello Zaaax~.¡± They answered as one, with the drawling tone that seemed common to every group everywhere at that age. He smiled in return, amused. On the other hand, poor Cerba was panicking. ¡°Uh- What? Hobby? Templates? What?¡± Outsiders rarely came that deep in the block, and she had had unpleasant experiences when they did. With his appearance, her first reaction to the feline mutant had been way worse, but he liked to think she had warmed up to him a hint. Right now, she was looking at him with cagey hope, unsure he would drag her down or help her up. Progress. ¡°Vester, what¡¯s going on? You know them?¡± Chapter 64 - Meeting and Demonstration Zax observed Vester trying to appease the receptionist. His posture and tone were totally different from the entitled advanced mutant he had met. He was a lot more casual, nearing¡­ timid? No, not quite. More like, less self-assured? Afraid to spoil something up? Aware his actions have consequences for others? Regardless, and as amusing as it was to watch those two awkwardly fumble their way in a conversation, his time was a limited resource. The dotter took over the back-and-forth, making Aran pout, and summarised his proposal, concluding with: ¡°I don¡¯t expect to get everything done today, I just wanted to test the waters. See if there are volunteers, how to spread the word, what it would cost me, that kind of thing. Can you help?¡± ¡°Er- Hm- I think¡­ I¡¯m unqualified to answer. Waitaminuteplease, I¡¯mgoingto- gettheboss.¡± Without waiting for an answer, she rushed to a door right behind her. No visible mutation, confirmed. ¡°She seems¡­ nice.¡± In the following silence, Zax awkwardly smiled to Vester. ¡°Pfffrt!¡± Aran barely managed to hold back a chuckle. ¡°Hahaha!¡± One of the children failed to, and soon enough the room was filled with laugher. Even Vester and SG partook in it. ¡°It could take a while. What kind of games do you have here?¡± Aran asked the younglings. Because of course it would be games; but to be fair, no one in the audience was more than ten years old. ¡°I was reading- oh forget it.¡± Vester tried to speak up, but he gave up immediately. Groups formed around different board games ¨C same ones as the dot, but physical ¨C and everyone had fun. Barely every group had completed a round of their respective play when a door opened. Not the backdoor the receptionist had gone through, but a double set leading to a door-lined hallway. ¡°Ah, sorry kiddos. Meeting¡¯s over, your parents are here.¡± The cat clapped his hands and called all games off. ¡°Aaaawwww!¡± the youngsters started to complain, but their caretaker would have none of it. ¡°Need I remind you it was supposed to be a reading session?¡± They were instantly silenced. He knew them well. Children will be children. Zax chuckled. Juveniles were the same everywhere. It was reassuring, in a way. The room was quickly filled and emptied again, parents taking their children with them. The only people staying behind were the receptionist ¨C who had gone back to her place unnoticed ¨C a strict-looking middle-aged woman, and an older man with red hair and eyes, too vibrant to not be a mutation, tending to a boy and a younger girl. None of them made eye-contact with the visitors. ¡°Welp, it was nice to see you again Zax. Missus.¡± The cat bowed slightly and was about to follow out when the red-haired man called him: ¡°Ah, wait a bit, please, Vester. I heard your friends had a¡­ particular proposition to make, and I would like you there as a witness.¡± ¡°That¡¯s very¡­ trusting of you.¡± The advanced mutant briefly frowned. ¡°Did something happen?¡± ¡°No, not yet.¡± The red-hair waved his concerns off. ¡°It¡¯s the first time you¡¯ve brought friends, we didn¡¯t want to separate you.¡± Vester and Zax exchanged a surprised glance, allowing Aran to speak first: ¡°What part of our interactions so far made you think he brought us here? Or that we¡¯re friends? It was literally the first time we spoke, and the very first time SG saw him.¡± She pointed said girl with her thumb. ¡°Zax might be a friend, not sure, but none of them had any idea the other was here.¡± She glanced at the receptionist and added: ¡°I don¡¯t know what you told them, but a lot was lost in translation.¡± The social expert had spotted the same thing they had; this man was trying to force a relation between them and the advanced mutant, for some reason. Considering he apparently didn¡¯t trust the cat despite leaving him alone with children, including his own, it was probably not well-intentioned. Stopping it immediately was the right call, but Zax wasn¡¯t sure throwing the scared girl to the wolves was the best way to do so. ¡°Before we continue, know that everything is being recorded.¡± He interjected, putting his hand on the tailed girl¡¯s shoulder as he moved back in front of the group. ¡°Everyone in the recording can ask to have their face and voice altered to hide their identity in any broadcast or replay, but Enforcers can demand the raw version with a warrant. Everyone in the recording can also ask for a copy of their own; just give me your coordinates. Don¡¯t worry, no broadcast is planned, but this disclaimer is just a legal requirement.¡± He kept his tone as neutral and professional as possible, but he couldn¡¯t deny the loss of respect for the manipulation attempt from this man. Was it a Resident thing, or was he just that unlucky? ¡°Friends or not, I don¡¯t understand why you think I¡¯d be a better witness, but I don¡¯t mind helping.¡± Vester added his grain of salt, instinctively moving next to Zax. ¡°Marvellous.¡± Red Hair smiled, ignoring the first part of the conversation. ¡°My name¡¯s Azar, and I¡¯m the head coordinator of this block. This is my secretary and daughter, Agni, and you¡¯ve already met my two grandchildren. Please follow me, we¡¯ll be better discussing inside.¡± Azar, Vester and Zax want to a meeting room while Agni took her offsprings to another one. It was just next door, so Aran and SG elected to go with them. The older man opened the negotiation: ¡°Little Cera told us about your business proposition, but just in case something was lost in translation, please explain from the start.¡± Stolen story; please report. ¡°Of course.¡± Zax nodded, pulling a holo-screen from his bag and setting it on the table. ¡°I¡¯m a dotter, and I study mutations as a hobby. For that, I use what I call templates. It¡¯s a three-dimensional representation of someone¡¯s body, including any kind of biological activity structure. Organs, vitals and so on. Very precise and accurate.¡± He turned the screen on and had his nanites send a demonstration using a recording of his own body, using a general view, then separating his skeletal, nervous and muscle systems, adding medical readings of his cardiac and cerebral activity. First at rest, and when the device didn¡¯t fry from being active in the Circle, during physical activities. ¡°Volunteers are scarce in the dot, but for some reason, low-mutated Residents are less reluctant.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I thought I¡¯d try my luck looking for more, and I was advised to this block. I want to see if I can make more templates, in exchange for money, good, or service the volunteer might need. I don¡¯t know how you are organised, but I wouldn¡¯t mind helping the community in general for a pre-determined number of samples.¡± ¡°Intriguing offer, but I have a few questions.¡± ¡°I thought you might. Please ask away.¡± ¡°Why is it so difficult to find volunteers?¡± ¡°Ignorance and stigma. See, the templates are made with nano-technology, scanning the volunteer¡¯s body from inside over few hours. And just the mention of that word makes people balk. Case in point.¡± Zax motioned to his host, who had briefly paled. ¡°Na, nano-technology? Machines!? Inside our bodies?¡± It felt strange seeing this experience leader stammer. ¡°Yes.¡± Zax nodded firmly but casually. ¡°I can assure you it¡¯s perfectly safe, no risk, no side effect, and if anything does go wrong, you¡¯ll just end up with broken nanites in you; which your organism will expel naturally. They are designed that way, and you won¡¯t feel a thing.¡± He let the thought sink in before following: ¡°I will want to get my helpers back though; they are difficult and costly to make. Some I can¡¯t make on my own and aren¡¯t sold anywhere anymore. The process is simple: the volunteer gets the nanites inside them ¨C there are different ways ¨C, I activate them, we go live our lives and let them do their thing, we meet again the next day, and I get the nanites out and the data for the template with them. It would be better if I could ask questions about the patient¡¯s daily life, see their personality, their life situation, but I understand not wanting to have anything more to do with me.¡± ¡°Why us?¡± Azar asked the next business-relevant question before he was done digesting the idea. Truly an experienced negotiator. ¡°If mutations are what concerns you, I can¡¯t imagine the people most hated by the 3G being interesting to you¡­¡± ¡°Baby steps, and I don¡¯t care about the 3G¡¯s feelings. I mostly have dotter templates, so the least mutated of the Residents seem like the best comparison to start from. I saw enough on the way here and with the children to confirm it¡¯s a good idea.¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°Plus, a complete database must have all extremes, the most and the least. Lastly, I could get templates from low-mutated Residents. I don¡¯t know if they¡¯re actually Disfavoured or which bubble they live in; I didn¡¯t know the term before coming here, but they¡¯re what made me think ¡®Eh, worth a shot¡¯.¡± The questions/answer game continued until the Resident was satisfied. Zax agreed to show the most common parts of the disfavoured templates he had, but nothing more; confidentiality was one of his conditions. Vester agreed to have his full template shown and to share his experience with nanites, as proof and example of safety. He seemed a bit put off by its existence though; he might have forgotten about the nanites he had to swallow, or not realised their significance, or erased them from his memory. A na?ve, but honest mistake. The conversation stalled when it came to the payment. Zax didn¡¯t lack 3G units, but it was only true for life in the dot. Even without this uncertainty, he heavily favoured an exchange of goods and services, if only to have a better idea of how their life was. Azar was more interested in his repair services. They had little use for clothing adjustments, but they used more machines than average Residents. In the circle, they were not that easy to fix, which meant more costly. Sure, they lasted longer in this block, but they still couldn¡¯t keep pace. Just this community centre had a storage room for disrupted devices of all size, shapes and functions; from essentials to conveniences to entertainment. Fixing them when possible was more cost-effective than selling at a loss and buying a new one, but they lacked in manpower and skillsets to do so effectively, so they collected dust until selling was necessary. Even Disfavoured didn¡¯t care much for machines, it seemed. Not enough to have dedicated people to study and fix them, at least. No, it didn¡¯t make sense; they should rely on them as much as dotters. More likely, that specific type of education was merely out of reach. Easy fix, but not the right moment to mention it. ¡°Alright.¡± Zax concluded. ¡°No way I can fix everything today, but I can start with this box. I¡¯ll give you a free diagnostic and fix what I can with what I have on hand. I can even do it here and in front of you. Let¡¯s call it a good will gesture and a demonstration. We can discuss the details afterwards.¡± They had just toured the storage room, both groups reunited. It roughly helped determine the extent of the damage and what Zax could offer, but their sorting system was¡­ somewhat lacking. Actually, pretty inexistent. Large appliances were placed between shelves where it was convenient, and crates were filled with haphazardly thrown items with nothing in common besides, if lucky, their basic appearances. Case in point, the one he chose for his demonstration. It was one among similar others, full of printed circuit boards, from all kind of devices. An appropriate example of what they needed, and what he could do about it. Azar had no reason to refuse. They prepared a room with a large table, a fresh white sheet over it, with chairs and space for everyone around it. Zax did warn them there wouldn¡¯t be much to see, as he didn¡¯t have proper tools, but everybody stayed and watched anyways. Even the children; they asked to be carried to see. Aran and SG were happy to put them on their shoulders. The start wasn¡¯t difficult, although Zax kept forgetting to explain his actions aloud. First step was identification and organising. He took each piece out one after the other; identified it, its function and what device it came from, consulting his nanites¡¯ database when necessary; and sorted it by category and priority. His HUD added area borders and individual tags for each piece; he didn¡¯t want to write on the white sheet. The table was a bit too small to lay everything down, so he had to let some items overlap. Not ideal to avoid new issues, but he would have to make do. Second came the diagnostic. Figuring out what was wrong with a board without the machine around or an energy source to test the components was usually a challenge, but disruptive fields effects were fairly obvious; they rarely made sense. A resistance burning or melting? Faulty design, but it could happen; they were made to generate heat. A resistance cleanly breaking in two lengthwise, then in the middle? Not so much. For that kind of faults, a nanite-assisted visual examination was enough, with an overlay of a working board and a highlight of the differences. There rarely was more than two of such flaws too; they happened one after another and stopped when the device stopped working. Other or unrelated types of faults would only be considered once those were fixed, and tested once he had the relevant gear. The diagnostic led to a second round of organising, by type of reparation. Some he could do immediately, some he could do with the right equipment, some were beyond him, some couldn¡¯t be fixed at all. Lastly came the actual repair. He hadn¡¯t lied, it was not much to see for bystanders. Only another nano-technology professional would recognise the technical prowess in display; juggling and weaving the different types, moving, removing and replacing what needed to be, staying within the board¡¯s specifications, with uncanny efficiency and accuracy. To the laymen present, he only seemed to put a metal ball on the faulty part of the circuit, pressed his hands on both sides of the board around it, closed his eyes for a bit, then took his ball back and moved to the next circuit board. If the ball didn¡¯t visibly shrink after a few uses and needed to be replaced, it would be easy to think he wasn¡¯t doing anything. It was quickly over; there were disappointingly few pieces he could readily fix, considering all that had been in the box. He could have tried a few more, but they weren¡¯t placed in a convenient way to let him protect his helpers with his bare hands. Disfavoured block or not, he didn¡¯t forget where he was. Hopefully, it would be enough to prove his worth. ¡°There we go.¡± Zax sighed of relief. ¡°I can do more with the proper tools, but for now: three graphic cards, five generic transistor boards, one gaming console mother board, and the main event: four water chips. One important thing to note about those,¡± he added, locking eyes with the red-haired man, ¡°that kind of damage can¡¯t have come from a disruptive field. Whatever purifiers they were pulled from, they¡¯ve been sabotaged to quickly wear down. No doubt about it.¡± Chapter 65 - Puzzle Even if the Circle was less strict about waste in general, drinkable water was a precious resource even Residents took seriously. Sabotaging a water purifier was a serious affair. Sure, they might have bio-technology to help, mutated filter-roots or something, but the Disfavoured were likely more heavily reliant on standard methods. Sabotage was a serious affair, affecting their whole distribution network, and in the best-case scenario, draining their already scarce resources. Fortunately, it was nothing dotters could do anything about, so Zax was content to give the information and move on. The rest of the haggling went smoothly. Vester agreed to take a new dose of nanites, and Azar was in a hurry to move on to the recently discovered urgent business. The feline mutant had activated since their last encounter, but it didn¡¯t leave visible effects ¨C which was even better for the hobbyist. The community centre would spread word of his proposition to the whole block, supply volunteers for similar prestation, and if required, serve as middle-men for potential volunteers with their own appliances to fix, urgent need of cash or other. Zax would come back the next day with more appropriate equipment and more nanites. He would take Vester¡¯s updated template, start on the new volunteers and on other restorations. The day was relatively advanced when the dotters left. They had to hurry their steps, but a strong walk to the edge of the block, a tramway to the train station, a train to the dot¡¯s entrance, and a leap on the light road saw them arrive in time to avoid curfew. Barely. Zax didn¡¯t have time to feed the mice and go home after, so he elected to spend the night in his shop. He had room and material to make a futon or a hammock; he¡¯d done it before, at the start of his career. It didn¡¯t mean he enjoyed the responsibility. Pets truly are higher maintenance than plants. Those didn¡¯t have to be fed or watered daily. At least he had a lot more time and materials to work with before going back. He launched production of several batches of nanites, tinkered an automatic food dispenser for the test subjects, a surveillance system to keep an eye on their progress, and a remote access to manage everything from afar if needed. He wouldn¡¯t have to come every day to take care of them anymore; one less chore to worry about. He should have thought about it earlier, honestly. The experiments didn¡¯t reveal anything special or unexpected, so he moved to the planned next step. As he was working, Aran contacted him so the three could discuss the part of the day he specifically didn¡¯t want to dwell on: ¡°I thought Bathor was overplaying it, but that speech of yours really had an impact. It¡¯s been so long, and there are still people who talk about it in the street.¡± ¡°Memes.¡± SG¡¯s voice added. ¡°Yes, there were enough memes to fill a wiki. I¡¯m pretty sure some of the tags and a few ads we saw referenced it too. Tho those could just be a fashion trend.¡± ¡°Maybe that¡¯s what they wanted us to see? So we¡¯d take it seriously?¡± The main concerned sighed. He still didn¡¯t like it, but he recognised the folly in continuing to deny or ignore the signs. ¡°¡®You¡¯ to see. They don¡¯t care about us. It certainly had/has an effect, but it doesn¡¯t seem to be a bad one? People seemed to feel better when they talked about it. More spirited. Not always a lot, but it was definitely there.¡± Zax had missed that, but his nanites scanned his memories and confirmed it. ¡°Too early. Can¡¯t tell.¡± ¡°True, true.¡± Aran relented to SG¡¯s comment. ¡°It was everywhere, but we can¡¯t say much after looking at one or two demographics.¡± The mutations in that bubble were varied, but a certain type of people was common: young men and women at the beginning of their adult life. They had probably brought what few children or elders were there. And the foxy girl had noticed like it was obvious. She really is something. The conversation moved to the new experiences the day had wrought; the people, the sights, the culture¡­ Despite a few hiccups, it couldn¡¯t be denied: they had all enjoyed this outing. The next day, Zax was surprised to meet Aran at the entrance point, taking half his luggage without a word and not letting him discuss her decision to come again. He didn¡¯t need to ask why. His apprehension about the Circle had been smoothed, but it wouldn¡¯t disappear that easily, and she could tell. He smiled without saying a word. He couldn¡¯t hide his relief at not going alone either. They took the transports straight to Garuza¡¯s Gym-dojo-arcade-thingy, grabbing more than a few eyes with their cumbersome luggage. Nobody stopped them though. There were more people around this time, but the dotters were immediately led to the Doctor¡¯s office. ¡°Doctor Shelly is currently busy, but he¡¯ll be there shortly.¡± The staff member ¨C handsomely muscular but no obvious non-human traits ¨C told them as she left He? Rather than pointlessly discussing misgendering, the visitors examined the room. It was¡­ not far from a typical doctor¡¯s office. A miniature consultation table/bed was shoved in a corner as an afterthought, various anatomic charts were displayed everywhere as decoration, there was even a computer on the side of the desk; an old model, sure, but with all the expected functionalities. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. The Doctor arrived shortly, taut as a sinew string; but she deflated in relief as soon as she laid eyes on them. ¡°Bad news?¡± Aran enquired. ¡°No, why?¡± She answered casually. ¡°You looked, unwell, when you opened the door.¡± Zax explained. ¡°It¡¯s nothing, I just thought¡­ nevermind. It¡¯s nothing.¡± The dotters exchanged a glance, but didn¡¯t insist. It was definitely something, but they wouldn¡¯t pry. That was her friends¡¯ role. ¡°Let¡¯s start.¡± She shoved the matter aside. ¡°I examined your results, and I have questions.¡± She moved to sit behind her desk, but Zax moved to the consultation bed: ¡°Of course. You can ask while I take a look at yours. Come and sit here please.¡± He took an empty Z-Box he had brought for this very purpose. It was a new model: the Blue Zax-Box, or BZ-Box for short. He hadn¡¯t been idle the previous night. Among other things, he had started experimenting with the blue paint. This box was such an experiment: its outside was coated with two layers of the paint. It was the recommended number for smaller rooms. The name was a work-in-progress. The control Z-box hadn¡¯t survived the trip here, but the BZ-Box had. That was encouraging. Zax put the box¡¯s opening against the Doctor¡¯s chest, under her clothes, and his other hand on her shoulder. With that hand, he connected to his nanites through her clothes, to get their data and to check if the box did its job properly at the same time. It did; everything was done in minutes. The paint had effectively protected the box. Now to see if it would protect its content. If it did, it would be a great development for his project with the Disfavoured. In case it didn¡¯t, he had filled his body with as much nanites as he dared, based on the last results of the relevant mice experiment. That limit was way higher than expected, but now wasn¡¯t the moment to ponder about it or his old lessons. He answered her questions about his lifestyle, diet, habits, hobbies and so on as he examined the Doctor¡¯s template. Or rather, the error filed data report, unable to process what they had detected. Probably why Garuza said she was a unique specimen. Examining the data, it was quickly made obvious she¡¯d had surgery before. Did she have contacts with the Black Market? Unexpected, but didn¡¯t explain the issues. Surgeries, plural. Many contacts. More unexpected, still didn¡¯t explain the issues. Actually, most of her body had traces of surgeries, even actual scar tissue in some parts. The only way for that to happen, was to have been wounded in the same place so often the medical devices couldn¡¯t compensate anymore. And no 3G activation since, of course. Which gave a basis for a timetable of her medical history; small scar tissue meant older and more activation since. It also hinted that some parts had had multiple surgeries. That would explain his program¡¯s issues. The dotter had never considered such a thing, but the overlap invalidated the established baseline of calculations. In theory, it was an easy fix; just adapting said baseline. In practice, identifying the surgeries and their chronology was not that easy. ¡°Aran? You should go have fun. I¡¯ll call you when we¡¯re done.¡± Zax advised his friend. ¡°This template will definitely take a while to make, and I don¡¯t know how long it¡¯ll take to analyse.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the time-consuming part?¡± The tailed girl was nonplussed. ¡°I agree. His case has me stumped.¡± Doctor Shelly voiced her own thoughts, not lifting her frowned eyes from her papers. ¡°Most frustrating. It¡¯s the first time it¡¯s happened to me.¡± ¡°Guess that challenge was exactly what you both needed, uh?¡± Aran must have noticed something, for she had a knowing smirk as she left the room. Zax silently acknowledged the thought, then dove back in his puzzle. He quickly gave up on a manual resolution. There were just too many past operations, over too long a period. The borders between each were too hazy or jumbled for the programs to spot on their own. He had to make a middle ground. For each surgery remnant, he established a list of possible surgeries, and what other traces or effect they could have had. He set the programs to test each configuration, and he would work around the results. He might need to access the actual database about surgeries later, but it should at least clear the clutter. He was so deep in his task he didn¡¯t hear the Doctor¡¯s questions anymore; he just answered automatically. Slowly, but still faster than manual sorting would get, a timeline of events was outlined. A worrying one. When he thought ¡°over a long period¡±, he didn¡¯t think those surgeries were, like, infancy-old. And, more concerning but the data didn¡¯t leave any doubt about it¡­ It was nearly all grafts and transplants. Overlapping transplants. What could it mean? Did she have organs swapped for fun? Did she not like her mutations, so she exchanged her mutated organs for more fitting ones? Repeatedly!? What about the donors!? No, it didn¡¯t make sense. What kind of life did she have? Plus, some had been done before the previous one was fully healed and integrated, and it was definitely not to support it. Should he ask about it? There was no way it was a pleasant subject, and she had already demonstrated her secrecy. He eventually settled to only ask if it became relevant. Stay professional. With all those grafts, it was hard to pinpoint what was left from the original Shelley. He had planned on starting around there, but was it even relevant? Did new organs affect subsequent mutations? Did their mutations? If so, how? All intriguing questions he would have never considered on his own. And he had no response to propose. Not even theories. Mere guesses, at best. A cohesive template was completed before the timeline was completed, but he wasn¡¯t closer to an answer. Most organs had mutated, but he couldn¡¯t always tell if they had already been when grafted or had mutated afterwards. Some of her bones had a higher density, others were more flexible; those were obviously mutated pre-graft. Bone marrow improving her clotting factor? Not as obvious. Could even be a re-routine of the bone¡¯s previous mutation. Gallbladder producing several kinds of juices but not the original one. An adaptation to repeated heavy medication? Could go either way. One lung with reduced capacity, but built-in filters for noxious gases; the other with increased exchange surface for higher efficiency. At least one had been grafted as such, but which? Only one kidney, but it couldn¡¯t process everything right. She had to constantly watch her nutriment intake, or she would have issues. It was a rare case of too much information to know what to look for; Zax couldn¡¯t reach any conclusion. He related to Shelley¡¯s frustration. Not even the surgeries themselves hinted at a planned direction. Some were general improvements, some were hindrances, some would only be useful in specific situations that didn¡¯t fit together, and some even felt incomplete. As if she wasn¡¯t done, but she last surgery happened several years before. She was older than she looked too, but he couldn¡¯t tell if it was natural, from a mutation of from surgery too. As maddening as it was, he wouldn¡¯t get further without actually interrogating this patient: ¡°Uh. Fine. I give up.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t find- what?¡± Chapter 66 - Rivals ¡°If I get it right, your mutation removes the marker causing potential rejection in grafts? That¡¯s¡­¡± Creepy. Zax was uneased by Shelley¡¯s explanation. He would¡¯ve definitely never considered it on his own, so congratulations to Garuza, but it raised so many questions. The only way for something like that to happen would be¡­ if grafts were an essential part of her life, for a long time, and to¡­ want to be better at being operated on? Maybe like, not wanting to deal with rejection? It made sense, in a morbid way. ¡°Exactly. All my organs have blank IDs to other organs, so they¡¯re welcome everywhere.¡± ¡°But when you get¡­ something new, isn¡¯t it undone? The graft still has its own markers.¡± ¡°If they don¡¯t reject me, they don¡¯t reject each other. Except for special cases.¡± She shrugged distractedly, still lost in her own thoughts about Zax¡¯s situation. ¡°At first, I merely didn¡¯t reject anything healthy, and my next activation removed the graft¡¯s markers. Made everything fit together, if needed. ¡®Harmonisation¡¯, I call it. Then one day, we realised my immune system destroyed the markers on its own. Not the whole cell or organ, just the marker. It takes time, it doesn¡¯t remove the source of the marker protein, but the graft ends up being temporarily free to use by anyone even without 3G; with delayed and reduced rejection if any.¡± She looked and sounded strangely proud of herself. As strange as it was, it made sense if her mutation went so far. She deeply wanted and/or needed to be better at¡­ getting new organs? ¡°Who¡¯s ¡®we¡¯?¡± She clammed up and didn¡¯t utter another word. Not a surprise, she had done the same for all his questions centred more around her than her mutation. ¡°Where did all those organs come from?¡± and ¡°What are you trying to do?¡± and ¡°Are you a surgeon yourself?¡± were met with a sturdy silence. Though the last one wasn¡¯t hard to figure. The answer to ¡°Where did your organs go?¡± had just been hinted at, and it made the hobbyist queasy. ¡°Free to use by anyone.¡± That sentence was hardly as disturbing as the casual tone it had been uttered with. Queasy was a euphemism. ¡°What about animal organs?¡± ¡°Hm. I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s never been tried.¡± ¡°And your genitals?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°You had a sex change from male to female. It¡¯s the only non-transplant surgery I can see, so it stands out, but nothing else was done in that direction. No mammary alteration, no skin or hair treatment, not even cosmetic surgery. Maybe the occasional hormone treatment, but that could be a result of other grafts, or even that harmonisation thing you mentioned. What¡¯s the deal with that?¡± ¡°Like everyone.¡± Consciously or not, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. ¡°I didn¡¯t feel like myself as a male, and 3G wouldn¡¯t help me.¡± True. Shallower changes, feminisation and masculination, of males and females both, were trivial. Augmentations or diminutions of secondary sexual characteristics? Standard fare, even if they rarely went far. Other genital deviations, non-human traits, knots or barbs? Not as uncommon as one might think. Some pervert purportedly had a prehensible penis, borrowing orca traits. Diminutions so complete they were functionally the same as asexualisation had been reported, but although vestigial and non-functioning, the organs remained. Allowing for easy recuperation, was the main theory. It fit with the ¡®prioritising survival¡¯ rule the 3G seemed to follow; no reproduction was bad for the species as a whole, even if it happened to be the best for the individual. Even going from hot-blooded to cold-blooded, which required a fundamental change in the biochemistry of the whole organism, was more common than gender changes, or even hermaphrodisation. The only recorded cases were all among extremely advanced mutants, already as optimised for their lives as they would get. Take too many traits of an organism that happened to change gender in the right circumstances, that one trait will eventually emerge if just because all the pieces are present. And even then, the mutation only gives the possibility to change gender, it will not do it itself. Another unexplained mystery of the Glowing Green Goo. ¡°Why stop here? It feels like you¡¯ve ¡®manually¡¯ customised your body, so to speak, even if you held back on structural changes.¡± ¡°The rest didn¡¯t feel that important.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d get to keep it anyway.¡± Revealing. The dotter knew he shouldn¡¯t try to fill in her past, but she was just so bad at hiding it when she wasn¡¯t conspicuously silent¡­ Time to move on. ¡°Alright. Would you be interested in a, er, what do you call it¡­ A coaching program? From me? If you keep nanites inside, I can have precise live measurements of your physical and mental attributes, and I see nothing hinting at normal exercises being an issue. Maybe I can help with that harmonisation you mentioned?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think- wait, what? You can help that?¡± ¡°Not with the ¡®removing markers¡¯ part; it¡¯s so precise and you have a dedicated mutation, better let it do its job. But I can help you smooth the macroscopic inconsistencies.¡± ¡°What inconsistencies?¡± She frowned, looking offended. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Well, for example, the muscles in your left arm are focused on explosive power, your right arm for weak but sustained strain. Not the whole limbs either. I bet it poses lifestyle issues?¡± ¡°¡­ Sometimes.¡± She reluctantly admitted. ¡°My guess is: both had at least muscles grafted from different mutants, one arm probably ended larger than the other, but your mutation already ¡®equalised¡¯ them to look natural. Without significant loss of either attribute, if I may add. There¡¯s also your digestive track. Your pancreas grants you hyper-reactive glycemia, but your gastric juices have a hard time processing quick-release sugar. Your whole body is like that, I¡¯m sure training to actively equalise everything can only help.¡± The Doctor was considering it, but she was uncertain. Zax gave her another push: ¡°If it makes you feel better, we can limit it to physical exercises for now. Workout, fitness, and the like. See how that helps, decide if and where to go from there?¡± ¡°That, sounds good.¡± She relented. ¡°What about you?¡± ¡°Me?¡± He leaned his head to the side in confusion. ¡°Would you be interested in being coached by me?¡± ¡°Er, I mean, sure, I guess, but do you have anything for me? Pretty sure I¡¯ve tried everything already, and it didn¡¯t work.¡± ¡°That just because you stopped-¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°I slowed, certainly, to live my life, but I never stopped training. My job keeps my mind sharp, and I learn new things every day. I still regularly go to the gym. Less so recently, but that¡¯s only because I started practicing free running again. It gives me a complete workout. Full body strength, agility, coordination, balance. The works.¡± ¡°Well-well, the standard methods don¡¯t give results, but there are some unconventional ways-¡± ¡°Tried those already.¡± He curtly cut her mid-sentence. The Doctor¡¯s awkward silence confirmed they were talking about the same method. She didn¡¯t dare ask for details aloud, which was sensitive of her, but it wouldn¡¯t do. Zax lifted his left sleeve, showing his inner elbow and confirming their concordance. ¡°I was sixteen and desperate. My guardians spotted it in time and made me promise I¡¯d never do it again. There¡¯s not as much as you, and definitely not as deep, but it wasn¡¯t as controlled either. Still no activation. They could be removed if the doctors pushed the machines, but they were ethically required to refuse on account of my mental state. Now, I keep them to remind myself where I started and how far I¡¯ve come.¡± ¡°¡­I¡¯ll talk with Garuza.¡± Shelley concluded after some hesitation. ¡°Maybe he¡¯ll have an idea.¡± ¡°Pretty sure I already wringed out everything he had to offer, but sure, why not.¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°Hey guys, done already? Who won?¡± The furry bird asked when they found him, fixing a few puzzles in the mind section with other employees. ¡°No one.¡± Zax casually raised a shoulder. ¡°Draw.¡± Shelley tersely answered. She didn¡¯t like to be reminded of it. ¡°Where did you find that guy? I didn¡¯t know someone like that could exist.¡± ¡°Funny, I was about to ask the same thing.¡± The dotter smirked. ¡°Though I have a few ideas-¡± ¡°Fine! You win! I¡¯ll admit it. I can¡¯t figure out everything on my own. Now could you please stop gloating?!¡± The doctor burst out, steaming. To be fair, with a smirk so wide his eyes squinted and his leaned back posture, the head coach was indeed gloating, so hard it was panful to watch. He enjoyed himself a few seconds more before getting serious again. ¡°And you? What do you think?¡± He nodded to Zax. ¡°I already knew what surgery was. It seriously messes with my nanites¡¯ readings, but I learnt to compensate for that. Or I thought I had, but I never thought it could go that far. I can¡¯t be sure yet, but I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if only part of her brain was her birth one. And I do mean part of it. But in practice, she¡¯s kinda like me: a blank state.¡± He changed tone. ¡°She has bits that push in every direction, so she¡¯s free to choose any she wants. Not sure if the others would hold her back.¡± ¡°Interesting, I didn¡¯t see it that way. Could she actively try for several directions simultaneously?¡± ¡°Hmm, if she can go in one direction, the others shouldn¡¯t be an issue. She¡¯d have to make sure what she chooses aren¡¯t incompatible, or harmonisation will be difficult and it could negate her advantage.¡± ¡°She has experience. Not an issue.¡± ¡°Why did you hire her?¡± ¡°The gender change.¡± Garuza didn¡¯t notice the non-sequitur and gave an honest answer. ¡°What about it?¡± ¡°I said that aloud?¡± His beak twisted in an awkward apologetic smile. ¡°You did. You want to add this otherwise impossible alteration to your rooster? It should sell well, but it¡¯s not exactly coaching¡­¡± ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± He nodded. ¡°And most people don¡¯t care about coaching, it¡¯s just the best mean to their end. If they could have a controlled activation with only a pill and a long rest, they would.¡± ¡°True.¡± Zax had experienced that too. ¡°So¡­ nothing to do with wanting one for yourself?¡± ¡°¡­ It may have helped the decision a little.¡± The muscle giant reluctantly admitted, twisting his gaze to the side. Every member of their hobbyist community had their own reasons to delve in the topic, but Little-Big-Bird¡¯s had always been a mystery. Nobody openly asked, it was bad form, but most of them were open, transparent or obvious. Garuza¡¯s reactions had been so subtle Zax would have missed them entirely without his nanites¡¯ help. On the other hand, from some of their past conversations on the forum, he wasn¡¯t exactly shocked. ¡°What!?¡± Shelley might be. ¡°You want to transition? You?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet. I avoided thinking about it for years. Since I knew the 3G wouldn¡¯t help. I still have a lot of introspection to do before I consider asking about it. We don¡¯t take corporeal changes lightly.¡± He truly didn¡¯t. It was his motto, and his business reflected it. ¡°Let¡¯s get back on topic. A draw? And you admit to it?¡± He glared pointedly at Shelley. The bird of prey eyes and beak made the effect harsher than intended. Probably. Hopefully. ¡°I have a hard time seeing that happen.¡± He added jokingly. ¡°I can show you.¡± Zax played along. Both set of eyes jumped at him, nonplussed. ¡°Did you forget I¡¯m recording everything?¡± ¡°Still?¡± ¡°Of course. And I won¡¯t repeat it every time we see each other.¡± ¡°It¡¯s always on?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Zax shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s how I make my diary.¡± ¡°What are you two talking about?¡± Doctor Shelley interrupted. Did I forget to tell her when we met? He had. She was just ¡°the infirmary gal¡± at the time, so he hadn¡¯t sorted her as repeated business acquaintance and didn¡¯t give the usual disclaimer. Embarrassing, but easily fixed; with a demonstration to boot. They went to the chief¡¯s office and Zax connected to a portable screen taken from a drawer. Unlike most dotter devices, it couldn¡¯t connect remotely, but Zax could bypass that by covering the socket with his hand. It stayed there as he showed the simultaneous admissions of failure, through two of his senses and with a few 3D animations, just because. It was nostalgic; he hadn¡¯t had to do this exercise since he was learning how nanites worked. ¡°Creepy.¡± Shelley didn¡¯t have much to say about it. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ how do you do that?¡± Garuza had a strange expression. ¡°I thought you had a protected hidden bug or something. Maybe in your hairs, or your clothes, since you¡¯re a professional adjuster.¡± ¡°Yes, but also no. Nanites are just that great. I have no doubt that without the 3G, they¡¯d be the basis for everything major in the Shelter.¡± The dotter nodded to himself. ¡°Uh¡­ Anyway, what did you decide about mutual coaching?¡± Ah, right. Chapter 67 - Productive Zax could help harmonise Shelly¡¯s body, theoretically, but neither she nor Garuza could help his own activation. The confirmed surgeon was also afflicted by blank page syndrome, but this part was more easily taken care of. ¡°It happens.¡± The coach reassured her. ¡°A customer wants to activate, but doesn¡¯t know what they want to work on, leaving us with too many options. It¡¯s a sad but unavoidable consequence of our society. The worst are those who don¡¯t even care what they get as long as they get something.¡± ¡°Sorry.¡± Zax lowered his eyes. ¡°Oh, uh¡­ Not sure that¡¯s still your case.¡± Realising how accusatory it might sound, the fur-bird quickly amended himself. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure you want to activate anymore. You said something about mental scars blocking your activation, and making a life for yourself?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve given up on my childhood fantasies, but I¡¯m not opposed to having a little something. Just to prove I can.¡± He clumsily shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not putting my life on hold to make it happen though.¡± In the end, they elected against the mutual coaching idea. Shelley bought a full B-box, programmed to monitor her body and highlight the inharmonious parts. She would work on harmonisation herself; the Dojo-arcade had all the equipment and knowhow required. She paid for the box and immediate re-ingestion of nanites up front, which was expensive even by Resident¡¯s standard, and she would pay the rest when Zax delivered the custom monitoring software. He could build it up from his diagnostic software, so it shouldn¡¯t take long. One day at most, and he wouldn¡¯t have to come in person. Aran was having fun, so he suggested she stay while he went to his next appointment, but she would have none of it. A message for Bathor in case she passed by, and off they went. They had a precise target this time, so they could take the public transports and they quickly arrived. Using physical units to pay still felt so uncomfortable and impractical. The Disfavoured¡¯s community centre had more people roaming around than the previous day, which was reassuring. Unless their presence had nothing to do with Zax¡¯s deal. ¡°Hey guys.¡± Vester intercepted them on the way to the receptionist, with a shocking guest behind him. ¡°SG!?¡± ¡°What are you doing here?¡± ¡°Helping.¡± The feathered girl muttered. The winged girl had concluded her workday at the shop, closed it without issue and came directly. She had hoped to play with the children again, but today wasn¡¯t a daycare day. She hadn¡¯t been idle though, there was apparently a lot to prepare for their arrival. The local Residents were cagey and aloof with her, but Vester acted as a guide and buffer to smooth out any issues. Zax and Aran didn¡¯t forget to congratulate their friend for coming on her own; they were so proud of her. They sent word to Azar about their arrival, but he and the others heads were too busy organising everything to come and talk. There was only one thing left to do: lend a hand. As they were moving and sorting tables, shelves and boxes, they kept talking about different topics. Vester¡¯s scan came up. ¡°Biologically, I couldn¡¯t detect any significant change from your last scan. But! I noticed something weird with the helpers¡¯ energy consumption.¡± ¡°Energy consumption? You see that too?¡± ¡°Of course. Energy management is crucial to use them to their full potential. Anyway, comparing it to my living test subjects, there was- fine! Straight to the end then.¡± He cut himself when the audience visibly lost interest. ¡°I think nothing physical changed because something intangible and unmeasurable has. It affects your whole body ¨C or I wouldn¡¯t have noticed ¨C so I figure it¡¯s in preparation for an incoming general change. It fits with your recent change of lifestyle, life goal, general views...¡± ¡°What does that mean?¡± Aran quizzed, filling the box between SG¡¯s wings with a variety of broken lamps and LEDs. ¡°Yeah, how would that even work?¡± Vester frowned. ¡°It¡¯s just speculation, but the way I see it, the 3G in your body is ¡®weakly¡¯ or ¡®partially¡¯ activating, so that when you reach a certain threshold it will activate immediately. It could be a way to lock the future activation in a certain path.¡± ¡°Neat.¡± ¡°My second theory is a meta-physical activation. Like, rewriting your karma, your fate, your spiritual self. Or something like that. Realigning with the new you, maybe? Even if not meta-physical, still something outside the standard dimensions we interact with. It¡¯s a running theory: the reason the 3G can only be detected by living creatures is a spiritual part they don¡¯t have, and that¡¯d be where the 3G exists.¡± ¡°Sounds like science fiction.¡± ¡°Or a pseudo-religion.¡± ¡°Eh, maybe.¡± The hobbyist smirked. ¡°But we know so little about the 3G, all possibilities are as plausible as the next. We tend to forget it, but we still have no idea of what that substance is, how it¡¯s produced, or how it does its thing.¡± Eventually, everything was ready and everyone gathered in the reception hall. It didn¡¯t appear conscious, but the only two advanced mutants ended up isolated on a side. The distance was not large, without the occasional accusatory looks to the visiting pair of non-advanced mutants who didn¡¯t respect said distance, Zax and Aran would have missed it. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Without the hustle and bustle, there seemed to be less people than gauged when they arrived. Seven people, plus the leaders. Enough to pay for three major fixes, a doze, minor fixes, or hundreds of diagnostics. Azar stood in front of the group with his secretary-daughter and another man who hadn¡¯t been around during the previous day. ¡°Alright team, great job as usual. Take a rest now, we¡¯ll call you when the dotter arrives. He shouldn¡¯t take long now, so don¡¯t go too far.¡± The crowd started to disperse before the visitors could process the mistake in his words. ¡°You, bird girl. Do you know when he¡¯s coming?¡± Azar turned his head to SG without moving from his spot.¡± As nonplussed as the others, she briefly glanced at Zax. ¡°Seventy-eight minutes ago.¡± Zax waved his hand and answered the question. ¡°One of your people send us to help Vester and SG. They assured you¡¯d be warned, but I guess the message was lost in transition.¡± ¡°Doubtful.¡± He replied, unimpressed. ¡°Anyways. You already know Agni, and here is Skoret.¡± He introduced the third man. The grey of his eyes was typical of the reflection of a brain mutation, but he still looked like a typical middle-aged man. ¡°He¡¯s our liaison to the block¡¯s management. I contacted them to help with your private deals.¡± After a few pleasantries, they moved to the meat of their presence: ¡°We have sorted and recorded everything the best we could. Here¡¯s a hierarchised list.¡± The red-haired man showed an e-slate. Like a tactile screen, but quite thick. Old school, but not paper. ¡°It¡¯s sorted by priority. The numbers on the right will tell us where to find them, we¡¯ll bring it to you. Or you to them.¡± ¡°Convenient. Give me a sec.¡± Zax answered as he took the ancient device. He examined the list and modified it where needed. Adding filters by date of acquisition and nature of disfunction and reparation seemed like a given. He would add others as required. He also noticed the section Vester and them had set was in the lowest priority section. Interesting, he would have thought industrial printers would be more important in the Circle. At least more important than children¡¯s water games. ¡°I guess the first template will pay for identification and diagnostic? Should be enough for the all the first section. Or are you sure enough of the top of the list you¡¯d rather go straight to repairs?¡± Having downloaded a copy of the list in his brain, he handed the slate back. ¡°No, diagnostic first. We won¡¯t lack volunteers to pay you.¡± Why did that sound ominous? Not lacking resources sounded like a foreign concept in the old man¡¯s mouth. Independently, Zax was sceptical about that claim; some volunteers would pay for a personal service. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go. I made a few changes to your list and I linked it to a file explorer. I¡¯ll update it before I leave. Or as I go if you leave the slate with me. I also added a data packet I think you should watch. Not related to our deal, it¡¯s purely personal.¡± It was the recording of his and Aran¡¯s arrival, from seeing the flurry of activity to being assured the heads would be warned of their presence and being send to help Vester and SG. It might be petty, but he hadn¡¯t appreciated the man¡¯s ¡°Doubtful¡± reaction. The side meeting room from last time had been emptied to serve as a more permanent workshop. Strange choice considering the placement, but they must have had their reasons. Now, it had a work stool with a compartment for tools, a wide but light and easily moveable table, and several similar tables folded against empty sorting cabinets on the side. The stool¡¯s compartment contained common basic tools; screwdrivers, wrenches and pincers. All metal and silicon. The free space made it feel empty, but it was an appropriate start. It would be filled soon enough, and Zax had brought his B-Box. Azar and his colleagues elected against a public demonstration of extracting Vester¡¯s nanites, so it was done while the first load of faulty items was brought in. Afterwards, he and the two other dotters were asked to leave, for privacy. The first volunteer arrived when Zax was halfway through the first box. He had green hair and eyes but brown eyebrows, which would have been fascinating if not for the obvious dye. He didn¡¯t have any apparent mutation, and he had no idea what his few activations so far had done, so it was probably a general metabolic enhancement. Not much for a database, but he more than compensated with his answers about their lifestyle, his comments about their pop culture and his own questions about the dot. Zax couldn¡¯t tell if it was on purpose, but he was an excellent choice to establish a baseline. Thus was spent the rest of the day; mixing the two main aspect of his life, taking care of malfunctioning items and setting nanites for incoming templates. Overall, satisfying and productive. *** ¡°We have reviewed your mission reports. Congratulations on your progress.¡± Bathor and the rest of the team tried not to squirm under their supervisor¡¯s stare, some more successfully than others. For each of them, being individually summoned was common, and never a pleasant experience. Being called as a group was a first. Being praised was absolutely unheard of. Actually, it was highly out of character for that fatso they had to toil under. Did he have a stroke? ¡°We never expected to find the originator. Interesting idea, we¡¯d have never considered that.¡± Ah, there it was. Flattering words, lessened with a demeaning delivery, expression, and body language. Nothing would appear on a transcript, but none of the recipients would have their spirits lifted. As a negotiator, she could appreciate the artistry in successfully making someone feel less for being successful. Sometimes, she wondered how he would handle someone on the spectrum. Shaking those thoughts, the group¡¯s mediator and de facto spokesperson focused back on the present: ¡°Thank you, sir. He has history with the Circle, but we¡¯re hoping convert him to our cause sooner than later.¡± ¡°Yes, the reports mentioned of it. Don¡¯t worry, it won¡¯t be necessary.¡± ¡°What? What do you mean?¡± ¡°As I said, we never expected to find the origin, that¡¯s why you had this mission.¡± And that unspecified ¡®we¡¯ again. ¡°Now, there are more options, and the higher ups have decided to step in personally. They¡¯ll settle the issue. Definitely.¡± ¡°That means-¡± ¡°That means you don¡¯t have to worry about it anymore.¡± The fatso curtly concluded. ¡°Take a few days to rest, and come back for your next assignment.¡± The team left the room, overjoyed, but Bathor couldn¡¯t quite appreciate it. Something was nagging at her mind. When had partially satisfying results ever been rewarded? Sure, there would be empty words, promises of a bonus or higher chances of promotion in an unspecified future, but paid leave? An unspecified amount at that? Something was wrong, it felt more like¡­ a distraction? He never called it a paid leave either. They¡¯d have to check before cashing it in, but it wasn¡¯t the cause of her unease. There were rumours about what it actually meant when the higher ups ¡°personally stepped in¡±. Outlandish rumours, but somehow coherent among themselves. She normally didn¡¯t heed such things, but Zax had raised concerns she still didn¡¯t have answers for. No answers that wouldn¡¯t make her feel like a bad person, anyway. And they¡­ uncannily fit with the pattern of the grapevine. Is he in danger? Chapter 68 - Trouble Organised as the Disfavoured were, it wasn¡¯t hard to establish a schedule for Zax¡¯s visits. In turn, it wasn¡¯t hard to see this routine wouldn¡¯t be sustainable; the demand was endless, but his drop in revenue would catch up eventually. His apprentice couldn¡¯t manage the shop by herself that often, and she would eventually leave the nest. He had to get back to custom orders sooner or later, without dismissing the private Resident fixes. Fortunately, they were all experienced professionals. By the end of the day, they knew what kind of pace to expect and drafted a satisfying arrangement. Zax would spend mornings in his shop, some afternoons in the dot for his usual work, some in the community centre, some with Residents for repairs. He wouldn¡¯t stay as late though; it wouldn¡¯t do to cease his other activities. Both the community centre and the mayor hall would display a web address for people to see when he would be available, volunteer their templates, and ask for a private service, with all three parties having specific admin rights. Zax tinkered a temporary platform on the spot. It was barely functional, but it would do. He would improve it later. Having already prepared for repeated absences, he could also come in the mornings for the coming days. Everything had its place, he was low maintenance, so Azar had no issues with him coming unsupervised. He would merely have to announce his arrival, departure and keep track of his progress and payment, which was already planned. Skoret, the mayor liaison, was unhappy at their refusal of making customers pay a stipend for their mediation services, but Zax made it clear they didn¡¯t want his work to go from ¡°to feed his hobby¡± to ¡°it¡¯s a business¡±, and Azar reminded him the community centre was a people oriented non-profit establishment. ¡°What would that fee even pay for? I made and I¡¯m maintaining the communication platform, access to it is part of free services you¡¯re already required to provide, transport is¡­¡± He blinked. ¡°Hm, I do pay for transport to come here, but having them pay for it seems unfair, especially since the distance will vary a lot. Plus, it¡¯s included in the centre¡¯s basic prestation; I can only work and get paid in person.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not, that¡¯s, I- You-¡± The liaison stammered, his eyes a deer¡¯s in headlights, while Azar smirked knowingly. Did I miss something? Zax frowned, feeling uneasy at the otherwise casual silence that followed. The guy was not all bad; his idea of tracking the issues and items, in their website, was a keeper. It could reveal unexpected correlations, and at worst it would please statisticians. Maybe the fee had something to do with the water filters? At least the tension didn¡¯t last long: ¡°What¡¯s with that ¡®Little Dot¡¯ thing?¡± The red-haired man asked, pointing at their shared website on his own screen. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s how I call this block in my head.¡± Zax confessed. ¡°Sorry, I must¡¯ve written it without thinking.¡± The woes of a neural interface. ¡°The architecture and fashion are typical of the Circle, the average technology and mutations are similar to the dot¡¯s, and it feels less demeaning than ¡®the Disfavoured Block¡¯. So, ¡®a little dot away from the dot¡¯. I can change it if you prefer, I know Residents are not fans of my home.¡± ¡°No need. It¡¯s¡­ nice.¡± Azar appeared lost in thoughts. The next few days saw a lot of work, trying all the kinks in their system. Zax pushed it hard, experience having taught him it was better to figure everything out from the start. Reworking already established protocols and habits was such a hassle. It was difficult, but finally, they reached a satisfying point. The template database was slowly but surely being filled; it was already catching up with the dot¡¯s. People were understandably cautious of the stranger with strange clothes putting strange things in their bodies, which made it harder to build a picture of their daily lives. The lack of incidents, the personal testimony section of the website, and official statements from the mayor¡¯s office and the community centre helped, but it was an ongoing battle. Understanding their lifestyle had been difficult for another unexpected reason: it was not that different from the dot¡¯s. On the contrary, it was too similar. There were still unmistakable divergences, like their lack spacial economy, or regularly subsuming 3G units late in life or even if they had children. On the other hand, they had a heavy emphasis in reusing resources, and used mostly mundane technology. Barely more bio-technology than the dot, who only used it for domestic lights and air recycling. Communication was a lot easier once the dotter realised it, though he was sure it wouldn¡¯t be the same in other blocks. Examining the results so far, the nickname ¡°little dot¡± revealed itself to be oddly accurate. Looking at both the averages and the outliers, one would be hard-pressed knowing which baseline was the dotter¡¯s or the Disfavoured¡¯s. Probably not related, but the nickname was catching on. Some Disfavoured had taken to calling themselves ¡°little dotters¡±. How cute. Many topics were covered during their conversations. Their tacit rivalry with dotters was a weird one, but it made sense. The recent arrival of ¡®troublesome newcomers¡¯ in the little dot was first interesting, then intriguing, then worrying. Interesting because they usually didn¡¯t get newcomers by groups. Intriguing because of their mutations, even a layman could tell they were not standard. A single gorilla arm? A single arm and a single leg tending towards different animals? A whole group of such mutants? It could be the beginning of a new Family, but why would they start among the Disfavoured? And worrying because, why were they called troublesome? Nobody would tell him, not even Azar or Agni. Besides that, disappointingly, nothing stood out from the effort. Not in the templates, not in the fixes. Which was something new in and of itself, but it didn¡¯t help much. In other news, SG had found a new hobby: more and more often, she went to the community centre on her own to play and take care of the children. She was like a whole new person with them, still soft-spoken, but smiling and more open. Telling stories and playing pretend were her favourite activities. Zax figured she was catching up on her missing childhood, but Aran pointed she acted as big sister, a caregiver, not as another child who needed to be taken care of. The tailed girl described it as finding a missing piece you only realise is missing when it¡¯s not missing anymore. Wordy, but it fit with Zax¡¯s past observations. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. The winged girl seemed less interested in her apprenticeship too; she barely reacted when she officially reached three stars. Had she found a new path? Aran didn¡¯t want to be left out, so she had her work hours shuffled to be able follow one of her friends in the Circle and lend a hand. Aran being Aran, of course she made quick friends with everyone she met. Some even told her about a place that would be perfect to train in parkour; a relatively narrow alley-way between two residential buildings, with two evacuation stairs within jumping range of each other. The teacher had recently allowed them to train even where there was no grass and dirt to soften impacts. If some precautions were taken, of course. They hadn¡¯t found a suitable place in the dot ¨C all the good spots were filled ¨C so today would be their first actual lesson in urban free running. It was¡­ a new experience. The dotters finally understood SG¡¯s caution; what they expected to be a minor variation made balancing and, well, everything totally different. Stepping on the walls and grabbing a stair¡¯s metal guardrail was surprisingly hard on their joints, and they kept overcompensating, slipping or holding too tight. It felt like trying to walk straight when they were drunk; they knew how to do it, but they couldn¡¯t do it right. Luckily, the winged girl knew what she was doing. The first falls and scrapes were painful, actually drawing blood for the first time in all their sessions, and made the following jumps more intimidating. ¡°As they should. You¡¯ll be more careful now. Don¡¯t rush.¡± Was SG¡¯s only reply when her students expressed their worries. Fair enough. It was only when they were scrapped everywhere, throbbing in places they had forgot existed, that they could say they were used to this new medium. Incidentally and apparently for the first time in her life, Aran could actually see an advantage from her tail; she balanced more easily than the more coordinated Zax. They were resting on the ground and against the walls when they were interrupted. ¡°Well, well, well. Would you look at that?¡± Came a self-assured voice. ¡°And I thought the doc was just paranoid.¡± The speaker stepped past the alley¡¯s threshold, two other people at his side, with more behind. All new faces, but their mutations were identification enough. The presumed leader in the front had a right eye betraying a typical brain mutation, a goat mutation for his left eye and a gorilla¡¯s right arm. Not just an ape-type mutation, a full gorilla arm, starting from the shoulder. A tall woman on the left had enhanced musculature, but it was unlike any the hobbyist had ever seen. Her trapezius muscles were over-inflated ¨C visibly so ¨C compared to the rest of her shoulders and neck, giving her a slight slouch and making her head movements uncannily stiff. Her rigid steps hinted towards similar issues on other parts of her body. A mutation awkwardly affecting hormone or muscle production? The man on the right had a stout but otherwise normal-human torso and upper body, that severely clashed with the pair of long cheetah legs below. Strange mutation by itself, but the proportions didn¡¯t fit with the legs of a stout man who had mutated towards a cheetah. This last thought brought something else to attention. They wore outfits in the Resident fashion, expressly exposing their mutations, but somehow hiding the transition with their unmutated parts. A first for Residents. A quick glance revealed some others behind them were the same, with uncanny and asymmetrical mutations, but there were also teens with them. Dot-typical barely mutated angsty teens. ¡°Hello, people.¡± Aran stood and greeted. ¡°I didn¡¯t think we¡¯d meet that soon. We were told you had interesting mutations, but I didn¡¯t expect that, haha. Do you want to have equipment fixed in exchange for interesting templates?¡± ¡°What?¡± The nonplussed leader asked. Attagirl! They were definitely the troublesome newcomers the little dotters had warned them about, but they would give the benefit of the doubt until they saw the trouble. Keeping them off balance was probably for the best though; the pair hadn¡¯t missed how SG had stiffened when she saw them; which was a worrying reaction. In front of strangers, she usually made herself smaller and more withdrawn. They were sitting against the walls, so crouching with her wings cloaking her folded legs would have been more in character, not standing up with them, her wings raised in front of her. Even her face was uncanny; rigid like a mask. ¡°Just so you know, I¡¯m not particularly interested in surgery, and I¡¯m not paying full price for templates pieces.¡± Zax amended Aran¡¯s claim. ¡°Although I don¡¯t even know if it¡¯d be worth anything. Guess I could pay full price for a few, then see what I can do with them.¡± He added, raising his eyes thoughtfully. ¡°What?¡± The leader asked again, frowning, but it didn¡¯t seem to be because the words were nonsense to him. Zax had hoped they would be. Their mention of a ¡°doc¡± and other hints gave him an idea of their origin story, where their strange mutations and behaviour came from. It was a terribly painful idea and he didn¡¯t dare speak it aloud. ¡°By the way, are you, okay?¡± He added to the tall woman, unsure. ¡°You look, in pain¡­?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this.¡± Leader stated, snapping the fingers on his human hand. A gust of air rushed by. ¡°Ow!¡± Cheetah Legs had run between Zax and SG to Aran, tackled her to the ground and he was now sitting on her chest. She seemed fine, mostly dazed and out of breath, but it felt uncalled for. ¡°What was that fo- Uh!¡± Zax¡¯s bewilderment was interrupted when he was lifted off the ground by his collar and kept against the wall by a muscular forearm pushing against his throat. Tall Girl. Found the trouble. Zax couldn¡¯t deny it any longer; they were not in civilised company. They were all highly mutated and ready for violence. Worrying. He tried to keep his heartrate under control, but it was a losing battle. What do they want?! ¡°Look at you. The infamous Harpy. The terror of the arena.¡± Leader strutted in the alley, ignoring Tall Girl and the pinned Zax, stopping in front of SG. She hadn¡¯t moved a muscle, but she was now frowning and glaring at him. ¡°Drop those losers and come with us. We have a better use of your talents.¡± He ordered, motioning with his gorilla arm. The winged girl didn¡¯t say anything, but neither did she move. ¡°What? Cat got your tongue? Playing hard to get?¡± He sneered. ¡°Don¡¯t you understand the situation you¡¯re in? Your friends are kinda in my grasp right now.¡± He mimicked grabbing and crushing a fruit in his furry hand for emphasis. More silence. ¡°Pathetic!¡± He spat. ¡°That¡¯s where you¡¯re at?! Where¡¯s your famous sharp tongue?! Your vicious mockeries? You grown soft? We have no use for softies here.¡± He was growling in the end. He punched her in the face. Hard. The clash loudly echoed between the wall of the alleyway, but the dotters¡¯ ears mixed it with another one: [ Resonance detected ] Chapter 69 - Layered Battle The automatic warning startled Zax, but he had more urgent matters to handle. He had to get this unhealthy amazon off his throat, but even pushing both arm against her lone wrist didn¡¯t register. She wasn¡¯t even looking at him. Luckily, another path appeared to him. He inverted his grip to secure his position against her arm, and used this stability to deliver a mean knee slightly below her ribcage, followed by a heavy shove on the same point with both heels. Straight on the solar plexus. The shock and surprise didn¡¯t fold her in two as expected, but she still stepped back, coughing and winded, letting Zax fall down. How did I do that!? Only then did the impossibility of his own actions registered. He had even regretted settling for a shove because he was not flexible enough for a kick. He knew a lot about anatomy, but his only fighting experience was childish brawls at school, movies and fighting games. He knew where to hit in theory, but even if some games were realistic VR, he shouldn¡¯t know how to hit. He hadn¡¯t at first, either. And then, there had been no doubt in his mind. He hadn¡¯t lost control of his body; his mind had conjured a solution, and he had followed it of his own volition, never considering failure. It was just too obvious. Surprising balance and coordination too. It was baffling but he didn¡¯t have time to dwell on it. ¡°Hmmmf!¡± A strange sound from deeper in the alley made his head snap toward Aran. An unfathomable spectacle greeted him: Cheetah Legs laid flat on his face, trying and failing to stand up because of the tailed girl crouching and sitting on his head. Every time he moved, she hit or moved the back of his head against the ground. Without her hands. Somehow, he knew without any doubt: from under him, she had grabbed her tackler¡¯s head between her feet and clenched her body in just the right way to throw him off her without letting him react. The same movement had sprung her body upright without letting go of his head, and she had him neutralised simply by crouching. The handyman couldn¡¯t tell how he knew. From her expression, she felt the same. SG broke the stunned silence by sending Gorilla Arm a mighty kick. He used his stronger arm as a shield, but he was still sent flying backward. Her skill made sense at least; she was an experienced fighter. ¡°BOSS!¡± Chettah Legs hollered. In his fright, he ignored his wounds, pushed Aran and rushed to join his team. He tried to get SG on the way, but she leaped over him, turned mid-air and grabbed the stair¡¯s guardrail one floor above with her talons. Her wings were in full display, ready to push her in any direction at a moment¡¯s notice. The leader landed in his brute¡¯s arm. She stumbled back to catch him without damage, opening more space for Zax to move. He didn¡¯t waste the opportunity; he lunged and rolled further in the alley to join his own friends. He and Cheetah Legs met, thoroughly intent on ignoring the other. [ Resonance detected ] One of Zax¡¯s leg straightened to the side, catching Cheetah Leg in the side of the knee and making lose his balance. Again? He had barely seen the guy in the corner of his eye, but his foot had been accurate and the move had felt natural. Not even a kick, he had merely pushed his joint a bit off-centre with the right timing. Cheetah Legs landed flat and slid against the ground, but he stood up protectively in front of his leader, ignoring the bruises and scrapes all over his body. His wounds were even worse from his speed, but he paid them no heed. Zax joined Aran as she rolled back upright. ¡°I didn¡¯t know parkour could be used that way!¡± She exclaimed, half-excited despite the danger they were in. It¡­ did seem so. Their strange movements felt similar to their free running training¡­ He had shoved like he was jumping off the woman. His passing push had been like the spinning trick to fix an unbalance. Aran had rolled upward like they had been taught to break momentum. ¡°Amusing. Do you think you¡¯ve won? Eh. Look. Look around.¡± Leader called back, gesturing around. His eyes fixated on SG. ¡°Outnumbered, no referee, and nobody¡¯s coming to help.¡± He smirked. ¡°This isn¡¯t the arena anymore. Just surrender. You and your friends don¡¯t have to be hurt. Much.¡± ¡°That would sound a lot more intimidating if you didn¡¯t look like a child in his mother¡¯s embrace right now.¡± Aran stated. It drew a few snickers from Zax and the people behind them, who quickly pretended not to when Leader turned his reddened face around. ¡°Just for that, you¡¯ll have to suffer more.¡± He snapped back at Aran, his first target forgotten. ¡°I thought you wanted a sharp tongue?¡± She retorted, the picture of innocent confusion. ¡°Not to forget, wrong on at least one point.¡± Zax added. ¡°And we¡¯re not that outnumbered. I mean, nobody wants what¡¯s happening here to reach the family living in C5-305th home unit, right? They¡¯re so proud of their first-born for being accepted in some posh art school. Just imagine how disappointed they¡¯d be.¡± ¡°They already know they¡¯re fed tall tales about where he spends his days.¡± Aran added. She had spoken at length with the mother while Zax and the father were working. ¡°They didn¡¯t mention it because ¡®trust¡¯ or ¡®faith¡¯ or something, but they did notice the limp last week.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t hurt them too much them, they¡¯re already worried. Just like a few other families. On the other hand, the community centre would be relieved to know where some of their regulars disappeared to.¡± A few of the younglings in the back looked uncertainly at each other. They had taken the bait. ¡°We know they actually care because they dismissed the betting pool.¡± Aran falsely complained. ¡°I got my units back, but I could¡¯ve won so much. And I played enough tactical games to know you picked the worst place to win by numbers. A straight narrow alley? Seriously? And you can only come from one side too. No matter how many you are, you can only come a few at a time. That¡¯s literally a bottleneck.¡± ¡°Maybe they want to wear us down? Sacrifice their numbers? Make it an attrition battle?¡± Zax proposed. ¡°Cold, and I don¡¯t think they have enough fodder for that.¡± ¡°Time is working in our favour anyway.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± Aran glanced at him confused. ¡°I¡¯m still recording everything, and I started broadcasting it live on the Enforcers¡¯ emergency channel when the violence started. With our address. I don¡¯t know how the Circle handles that kind of situation, but they shouldn¡¯t take too long.¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. A stunned silence followed the statement. Even SG pulled her eyes away from their opponents for the first time since their arrival. ¡°I¡¯m casting on a few local points too, just in case. They¡¯re not clearly identified, but I think they¡¯re domestic devices nearby.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that, ya know, very illegal?¡± Aran asked with an unreadable face. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I only use the publicly opened ones, and I¡¯m censoring the names and faces. The Enforcers can get the raw footage later tho.¡± ¡°Very impressive.¡± Leader sarcastically slow-clapped, his smirk back in full force. With his mismatched hands, it sounded like a cheap drum. ¡°I was almost worried for a second, but there¡¯s no way the Enforcers would come here before we¡¯re done with you. For once, you¡¯re on your own. Mutants.¡± The dotters had never heard so much contempt in a single word before. ¡°Screw it, I¡¯m out!¡± Someone shouted from the group outside the alley. A younger teenage boy, from the voice. ¡°Let go!¡± A younger teenage boy who was trying to fight off a more physical restraint than expected. ¡°He¡¯s just bluffing!¡± Leader snaped to them, furious. ¡°Don¡¯t let them rattle you so easily!¡± It didn¡¯t stop the fuss growing in the crowd. ¡°We can protect you. Remember what happened last time; you have nothing to fear from the Enforcers.¡± Someone out of sight tried to defuse the turmoil. Androgynous, but not a teen. ¡°I remember. If my family learn what we do, they¡¯ll try something and they¡¯ll be next.¡± A third, resolute voice opined. ¡°I don¡¯t want that. I¡¯m out. Don¡¯t try to stop me.¡± ¡°I, I want to leave too. Please?¡± A fourth, scared voice added. Other voices rose right and left. Some dissident, some calming. This group might be more complex than it seemed. Some must¡¯ve already left, because the entrance seemed less opaque. The psychological attack had worked better than expected. When Gorilla Arm realised, his behaviour changed drastically. The childish tantrum from a petty try-hard was now a heartfelt plea from a charismatic leader. Was it an effect of his brain mutation? He was like a new person, deftly weaving reasons and emotions, with body language, and promises of a fairer tomorrow, where the 3G didn¡¯t decide of their fate because they didn¡¯t need it to be superhuman anymore. Like his raised arm, that the 3G had refused him but that he still got in the end. Lots of half-truths and contradictions to unpack. Was he trying to start a cult? Did he not realise how creepy he sounded, bragging about owning someone else¡¯s arm? Tall Girl or Cheetah Legs always stayed focused on the dotters, so they couldn¡¯t use the distraction to rush past, but it didn¡¯t mean they had to stay idle. Aran kept shooting his arguments down with facts and retorts: ¡°Wasn¡¯t that ¡®superhuman¡¯ part made by the 3G?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll still have to pay to get the enhancements.¡± ¡°Who cares how you change? Your fate will still be determined by your results.¡± Legs tried to counter with his own example: ¡°I was called shorty and constantly mocked. Now I¡¯m not small, I¡¯m super-fast and nobody dares to belittle me!¡± Zax had a few questions for him. Could he turn? Process his own running speed? How was his balance without a tail? Aran slapped him between the shoulders before he decided if he should voice them, settling his inner debate with a glare. Right. Focus. What he focused on was instruction to his friends¡¯ nanites, sent via the broadcasting B-Box stashed in the side, to build their own transmitters. In a few minutes, they had a secret, silent, thought-operated communication channel. All the while, SG had been planning the coming fight, aiming for the best results. It became easier as some of the group scattered; her vantage point gave her more information than the others. Only teens were leaving, the remaining were more like the three in front. Just less extended. The odds of victory were still too low to matter, but the odds of surviving or lasting long enough for Enforcers to arrive were significantly improving. Not enough. [ Nanite Chatroom: Installation Complete ] Without warning, a screen appeared on the side of her vision. It moved with her eyes, so her experience with VR let her keep her cool. It wasn¡¯t intrusive, but she couldn¡¯t forget it easily. It had mentioned nanites too, so Zax was probably involved, meaning it was safe. [ You are invited to join the chat ] [ Join? Y/N ] [ (imagine yourself saying the word or pressing the button to answer) ] Yes? Nothing happened. Thinking the word was not enough? < Yes? > [ Aran has entered the room ] [ SG has entered the room ] < [ Zax: Great, it worked. ]> < [Aran: Doing that when we¡¯re being mugged. You know you¡¯re crazy, right? ]> < [ Zax: You¡¯re keeping them busy, and I thought it was the best way to strategize. I don¡¯t think we have long left though; he¡¯s pulling them together. Does someone have a plan? I¡¯d rather not rely on that resonance happening again, we don¡¯t know if it¡¯ll work. ]> < [ Aran: You saw it too? ] > < [ SG: I do. Our odds just got significantly higher. ]> The plan was unpleasant, but quickly explained and they didn¡¯t have a better one. Before it could be executed though, Gorilla Arm had rallied his remaining people. SG broke their newfound gusto by addressing them for the first time: ¡°I don¡¯t know what he promised you, but I will make sure it¡¯s not worth the pain I¡¯m about to inflict.¡± Her words were limpid, her voice deep and projected, bouncing between the walls and reaching further than it should. Nobody doubted she would keep her word. Chilling! It was too late to go back though, the remaining members had no other choice but to follow through and attack. Gorilla Arm screamed to encourage them, his shout soon blooming on every lip: ¡°HAAAAAAAAAA!¡± The original three were the most dangerous of the lot. Tall Girl was strong and resilient, but slow. Cheetah Legs was fast, but he needed space to do his thing. He arrived first. Zax had one question answered: no, he couldn¡¯t keep up with his own speed. Else, he would¡¯ve dodged the powerful but obvious kick to the chin SG delivered. He was sent flying back. Like his leader before, but nobody he landed on could catch him. Gorilla Arm arrived next, sidestepping the heap of pained bodies. He tried to land the first punch, but SG twirled and danced around his arm, somehow landing a talon flat against his torso and pushing, sending him back to the heap that was just starting to get back on their feet. From their safe position behind, the dotters couldn¡¯t miss how easier it would have been to kick him on the side of his head, or how her claws pushed without piercing. With her vicious talons, it took a deliberate effort. Despite her claim, she didn¡¯t want to hurt them more than necessary. Tall Girl arrived at the same time as the others. She lasted longer, two full hits, and she merely folded without flying. The others used the time to surround the winged hurricane, but her wide movements prevented them from getting close. Good thing no one had a weapon besides their own bodies. She kicked and slammed her opponents against the walls, silent but loudly knocking them down while Zax and Aran took down the stragglers she let wander on their side, tying them up with their own clothes when possible. They had been mostly forgotten. More than a few resonances happened, always effective but never how or when they were expected. Tall Girl returned to the melee, once again lasting longer, long enough to let the crowd converge on SG. She couldn¡¯t force space around her anymore; not enough leverage, but she wouldn¡¯t be undone. Just as a solid arm reached for her wing ¨C her main weakness in a fight ¨C a talon grabbed a shoulder and she pulled down, using the spontaneous springboard to leap against the wall and acrobatic her way out of the mass. Delivering a few free kicks on the way too, because why not. SG had undeniably won the exchange. Gorilla Arm was unconscious, Cheetah Legs couldn¡¯t do much with so many people around, but she was not unscathed. Panting, sweating, her wings missing handfuls of feathers where they had been grabbed, and she had taken more than a few passing hits. Still, she was not worse for wear, and her eyes shouted she was ready for more. Eager, perhaps. The lack of leader didn¡¯t deter the assailants still standing. They had gone too far to back off now. They didn¡¯t even notice their fallen comrades at their feet anymore. Round 2 was more of the same, but SG was waning. It wasn¡¯t obvious yet, but more and more stragglers reached the back line, who more frequently had to use the chat to warn her of sneak attacks. The original plan had called for the pair to team-up against individual opponents SG would allow. Mostly the younger ones. The repeated resonances usually ended the confrontation before the other could act, but it wouldn¡¯t take much for the greenhorns to be overwhelmed. Not a problem yet, but it was coming and they knew it. They were tiring faster than their main fighter too. By the middle of round three, SG gave the order the others had hoped would not come: < [ SG: Aran is getting tired. Phase 2 ] > < [ Aran: Am not! ] > < [ Zax: You are. You kept running around and wasting energy, and I¡¯m not far behind. ] > [ Aran is typing¡­ ] < [ Zax: Don¡¯t compare your stamina to hers! We can only trust her. ] > < [ Aran: Fine. But I still don¡¯t like it. ] > < [ Zax: Me neither. ] > Regardless, phase two. Chapter 70 - Statement ¡°And what was that ¡®phase two¡¯?¡± An Enforcer with minimal mutation curtly asked Zax for his statement. He had made clear from the beginning he didn¡¯t want to be here. ¡°Aran and I had to get to the safety staircase, out of reach. Then wait it out.¡± ¡°Wait it out?¡± The enforcer scratched a patch of red skin on the side of his neck, unimpressed. ¡°Or wait for you, I guess. Or go higher if they managed follow. But we weren¡¯t worried about that. That kind of jump takes skill, a very advanced mutation, or a very specialised one. We had to use the wall itself as a stepping pad.¡± ¡°And you just happened to all have that skill. How lucky.¡± Zax couldn¡¯t tell if the dubitative tone was accusatory or not, because why would it? ¡°Not really.¡± He shrugged and reminded: ¡°Training that skill is why we were in that alley in the first place. I believe I mentioned it at the start. We had to team up too. I launched Aran to go high enough, and she grabbed my hand when it was my turn. She¡¯s more agile, but I have a better grip.¡± ¡°Hrr. Then?¡± He growled. ¡°I thought SG would join us, but¡­ well, you know the saying about calm people getting angry? That was a prime example. By that point the melee had devolved in a chaotic brawl. Screams, no space to move, no planning whatsoever. You¡¯d think it was their first group fight. Something must¡¯ve changed that I didn¡¯t see. From above, it didn¡¯t look like she snapped, more like, she took a decision and shifted gears. I knew she could fight, but man I didn¡¯t realise how much she was still holding back! She was dancing in the crowd, flying above them and systematically one-shotting them. She was like¡­ like¡­¡± ¡°Like?¡± The enforcer encouraged, captivated despite himself. ¡°Like an untouchable, unstoppable tempest. With feathers and talons. Terrifying and magnificent.¡± A strange sensation filled his voice as he described his friend¡¯s feat. He didn¡¯t notice, but he couldn¡¯t miss the enforcer doing a double take. ¡°It was over before I realised. I think before they realised too; they fell before they had time to realise how fast their numbers were dwindling. And she did it all without expression. I think that was the scariest part. No frown. No smile. No words. As if she wasn¡¯t there. Like a machine. If I didn¡¯t know her that well, I would¡¯ve never seen how incensed she was.¡± He didn¡¯t precise how he actually knew. Her nanites and his direct access to her vitals were private information. He had no idea how Aran saw it, though, but she did. ¡°When everything was calmed down, we joined her downstairs ¨C the normal way. Aran went to comfort SG and wait for you at the entrance. I went to give advanced first aid. I¡¯m a licenced responder. You know, processing the wounded, sorting them by priority of treatment, stabilise who I could. That¡¯s what we were doing when you guys arrived.¡± ¡°You claim they attacked you, but you still stayed to treat them?¡± The enforcer raised an eyebrow, dripping with sarcasm. ¡°Yes.¡± The dotter replied pointedly. ¡°They were hurt, I could help without endangering myself, so I helped. Regardless of my personal feelings about them. Advanced first aid is a skill that comes with clear responsibilities, and I take them very seriously.¡± The enforcer flinched at the intensity of his gaze. For the first time in the interrogation, he had no comment. ¡°That being said, it was quickly obvious none of them were in immediate danger. Broken bones at most. Usually in the legs or the ribs. No internal bleeding, no ruptured organs, no spine injury. With how many there were, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a coincidence. The most injured is the Tall Girl.¡± The enforcer nodded and unconsciously shivered at the mention. Both arms and legs had been broken in at least one place, and her bruises and lacerations could build a mould of SG¡¯s complete talons. Her belly even had a clear print; a long bruise for the foot arch equivalent, four smaller above and one bellow for the fingers, and matching bleeding punctures from the talons. She had been evacuated for treatment as soon as the enforcers were able. ¡°And that¡¯s mostly because she kept coming back. She¡¯s quite something too. I could tell during my examination: she feels pain as well as anybody. Tho she has a resistance to being knocked out, somehow. And she just won¡¯t quit. Even when everything was over and she was the last one standing ¨C barely, but still more than she should¡¯ve been able to ¨C and she only let herself collapse once SG stopped attacking. So, yeah, definitely not a random thug.¡± The enforcer blinked at the tangent, but at least it let him recover. ¡°Hrm. Alright. Why were you so reluctant to launch that phase 2? Miss SG is an advanced mutant and had the situation well in hand.¡± His tone had lost some of its edge, somehow. ¡°We didn¡¯t know she was that good. Plus, it meant running away while our friend was holding them off. Of course we¡¯d be reluctant. What kind of friend wouldn¡¯t? Even if she was supposed to come just after us.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± The enforcer didn¡¯t add anything. He seemed out of questions. ¡°If we¡¯re done here, could you take those off?¡± Zax lifted his cuffed wrists. ¡°I still don¡¯t see why you did that.¡± ¡°Not yet. Standard procedure.¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°No, it¡¯s not.¡± He countered the obvious excuse. ¡°My guardians studied the question when I had dealings in the Circle in the past, so I know.¡± ¡°You were suspicious.¡± ¡°How? Because I was treating wounded people? Just our clothes made it clear we were not on the same team.¡± He grabbed his nanite-made imitation of standard dotter outfit for emphasis. ¡°And even if I was a suspect, standard procedure also requires a pat down and to take me to your station for processing and updating my file. Including the interrogation we did here.¡± He gestured between them. ¡°So which is it? Am I a suspect or not?¡± ¡°Er-¡± ¡°Considering the numbers, it could still be explained as an out-of-procedure precaution; cuffing everyone until you¡¯re sure of who is a perp or not. IF you don¡¯t have anything for wings.¡± SG was the only one unbound. Aran was at her side, and she hadn¡¯t been spared either. ¡°You could¡¯ve cuffed her legs though.¡± The sudden vehemence in the so far passive dotter¡¯s voice caught the enforcer off-guard. He couldn¡¯t help it though. Garuza and the little dotters had warmed him up to the Residents, some, but the man¡¯s wanton hostility made his old grievances come back in force. Not commenting on his attitude long enough to give a full statement had taken its toll, and the visitor was nearly out of patience. Adrenaline had worn out long ago, and he was reeling from the ordeal. Physically and emotionally. He couldn¡¯t even vent on this unprofessional enforcer; he was the last straw, not the root cause. That honour belonged to the Black Market itself. The thugs¡¯ asymmetric and mismatching mutations were unmistakably from surgeries. The hobbyist had suspected it from the first glance, and examining their bodies with their wounds had confirmed it. It meant those people had come from the Black Market, probably escaped as SG and the doctor had. Same time, same way, same circumstances. Not the same help, however. They might have started together, but they definitely didn¡¯t chance upon welcoming locals who shielded them and prepared them. A whole new world with unfathomable rules, only wrong habits, no guidance, no units¡­ ending in the little dot, with the other outcasts, seemed unavoidable. If they didn¡¯t go overboard or played smart enough, the sense of novelty and rebellion they brought would explain how attractive they were to the block¡¯s teenagers. Gorilla Arm couldn¡¯t pull that off, so he was likely not the top dog. The more Zax thought about it, the less he could bring himself to resent them. They were just trying to carve a place for themselves in the Shelter, using the only way of life they knew. Still, it didn¡¯t excuse trying to force SG to join, or taking hostages to make her comply. Doctor Shelley had found a place and an honest job, and clearly, they were in contact. Zax would not forget, but he wouldn¡¯t keep them in his heart. He took a deep breath, held it for fifteen seconds, and let it go. He was tired. So tired. ¡°Anyway. You have my testimony.¡± He sighed. ¡°You have my name and coordinates, for further questioning, if necessary. You have no reason to keep me any longer. I have no reason to keep those.¡± He held his wrists to the rude enforcer¡¯s face. ¡°That- there¡¯s- you-¡± The bewildered man stuttered, not knowing what to say or how to say it, but eventually his shoulders dropped. He uncuffed Zax and spoke in a faint, pleading voice: ¡°Someone wants to talk to you at the station.¡± ¡°¡­Okay? Who? Why? What about?¡± Zax asked when the enforcer didn¡¯t elaborate any further. ¡°I don¡¯t know. We just received that order on the way.¡± His eyebrows kept going up and down, as if he didn¡¯t know whether to be imploring for cooperation or angry at the non-immediate compliance. ¡°That order?¡± ¡°Bring the cameraman to the station.¡± ¡°¡­you don¡¯t know who¡¯s giving you orders?¡± Zax raised an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m at the lowest level, so it can only come from above. It¡¯s all that matters.¡± The enforcer stated like it was obvious. ¡°Our lives are but playthings for everyone else.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not exactly reassuring. Even civilians?¡± ¡°Of course, if they¡¯re rich enough. We need resources to do our job. The dot doesn¡¯t send enough to do everything.¡± An accusatory tone slipped in the enforcer¡¯s tone. It doesn¡¯t? Well, it made sense. The First Circle was huge. Each bubble was close to the dot, either in size or in population. The main computer managed resources, but they were finite. Limited. Pieces of a conversation between his guardians, heard in his youth but not understood, came to mind: ¡°If they can¡¯t deal with something themselves, it only makes sense to ask for help. Negotiate with the local powers. Help and resources for a price and favours.¡± ¡°Favours? You mean bribes.¡± ¡°It¡¯s easy to call it corruption, but reality doesn¡¯t care for morals.¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°Ideals are great and all, but if the main computer wants reality to follow outside the dot, it should send enough resources to do so.¡± ¡°What a dangerous rabbit hole. What if the favours include to silence events in their reports to the dot?¡± The dotter understood now. He couldn¡¯t trust Enforcers outside the dot as easily. What a scary thought. Incidentally, it explained the little dot¡¯s desire to solve their issues internally. In a bribing contest, they were disadvantaged. ¡°Is it alright if I don¡¯t go? Because, to be honest, I want nothing more than going home and rest right now.¡± And I have things to discuss with my friends. ¡°¡­ You said you¡¯re a dotter, right? You could be flagged as problematic. It¡¯ll make things harder when you apply for Residency.¡± That sounded wrong. Didn¡¯t they have an immigration law that your life before the Circle was null? Hence the need for a new name that coincidentally made it harder for old friends and relatives to find you? Whatever. It was a moot point anyway. ¡°Eh, that¡¯ll never be an issue.¡± Zax snorted. ¡°Oh, no, with the way you handled the situation, you could apply right now. You¡¯ve displayed enough skill and guts to compensate your low mutation. Maybe. Probably. The committee will judge. I¡¯m confident that if you come to the station, your admission will be the smoothest.¡± ¡°That wouldn¡¯t work. Your laws have something about a level of mutation, even if it¡¯s ¡®no matter how low it is¡¯, but I still need to have a mutation. I don¡¯t.¡± ¡°What do you mean ¡®you don¡¯t?¡± The enforcer chuckled. ¡°Everyone has some mutation.¡± ¡°Not I.¡± Zax shrugged tiresomely. ¡°I never activated, and it¡¯s not for a lack of trying. I consulted experts, I became one, to no avail. Nobody knows why, but the 3G actively hates me. I¡¯m the only actual natural adult purestrain in the Shelter.¡± As an afterthought, he added: ¡°No relation to any cult or religious movement.¡± The enforcer reflexively stepped back, prompting an annoyed clarification: ¡°It¡¯s not contagious! All my childhood friend became Residents. Some with rare and awesome mutations.¡± Disturbed, the enforcer half-heartedly tried other arguments, but Zax ultimately decided to go home with his friends. Their own statements were already over. They walked and sat together in silence. Too exhausted and weary to discuss. It was past curfew, but proof of being held by legal procedures and they were granted exceptional permission at the access point. Sleep was agitated for everyone. Chapter 71 - Recognise and Actualise [ Hidden Quest (Recurrent) found! ] [ Quest: See No Evil ] [ Goal: Reveal abuse of systemic loopholes to competent authorities ] [ Details: No system is perfect, but there is a limit to how much can be compromised or tolerated to get things done. For the main computer, the limit is the Shelter¡¯s peace and growth. You have found someone or something among authorities who ignores said limit, and you brought proof to someone who could do something about it. ] [ Reward: (1) Query Fast Pass; (1) Swarm Full Set (to define) (Reveal more abuse for additional rewards). ] Zax frowned and briefly paused his wake-up routine as he read the mail in his HUD. It sat with the others, inconspicuous, so he had opened it without paying attention to the subject or sender. He would have never expected a message from the Core. He didn¡¯t mind his sensory diary being perused; he had given his consent. The artificial intelligence had held its word and not reminded him of its existence since the mission to look for his greatest rival: himself. Now it was¡­ rewarding him for the last day¡¯s events? Was it not aware of it from the enforcers? Terrifying idea. Didn¡¯t mention the attack itself, though, only the aftermath. The only parts he was clear about was the rewards. The pass applied for a query to the main computer. When he chose to use it, his query would go to the start of the public queue, regardless of whose or how many were before, no matter how simple or complex it was and how long the treatment would last. ¡°Swam Full Set¡± was the temporary name he gave for the optimal type-proportions in C-nanites, if one wanted to infuse the greatest amount possible in a single living being. It varied with the being¡¯s size and complexity. He had the single cell¡¯s limit, but not the mice¡¯s yet, let alone his own. He was getting there though, the ¡°to define¡± should mean once he found the limit, the Core would give him enough of its own nanites to fill himself up. It was huge. The news and the amount. He wasn¡¯t sure all he had, which could already do a lot, would be enough. Maybe it was not that much for the Core, but still. He could now hasten his experiments without worrying about this irreplaceable material. Not as much anyways. He was clearly being enticed and oriented in a specific direction, both in his daily behaviour and his experiments. Was the pass an enticement too? Did the Core want him to ask something specific? Why a game-like quest and not a commission, like last time? Aran hadn¡¯t rubbed off that much on him, had she? Did it want to involve her? Unpleasant thought, uncomfortable questions, but he wouldn¡¯t refuse a reward for something he had already done. There were too many unknowns, but he had more important matters to take care of right now. The heavy atmosphere behind his bedroom door attested to it. A pervasive silence filled the main room. Breakfast was prepared and served, but nobody was in the mood for it. The previous day¡¯s events still weighted on everyone. Aran had hardly said a word since they woke up, and her eyes kept glancing between her friends and her plate. SG kept her head down, sipping her meal solution, still unresponsive. Her whole body was rolled up even tighter than when she first arrived. She was still shying away from physical contact, and it didn¡¯t seem about to change. It wouldn¡¯t do. But what could the handyman say? Even their social expert was at a loss. The tailed girl had already tried soft reassurance, respectful aloofness, even tactless honestly. What was left? ¡°You shouldn¡¯t think so negatively of yourself.¡± The words bloke the silence before he realised. The jolt managed to briefly break the stiff vibe. Both girls stared at him, bewildered. Thoughtless sincerity, it was. He kept his eyes on SG. ¡°When you arrived, one of your most common conversations was how much you hated that successful gladiator called ¡®Harpy¡¯. You never said much about your past, but you jumped on any occasion to badmouth her. I think she¡¯s the part we know the most about.¡± ¡°Cruel, vicious, loved wrong by all the worst people¡­ You did everything you could to make us fear and hate her.¡± Aran confirmed when Zax glanced at her. She didn¡¯t know where he was going, but she trusted him to not make things worse. ¡°It worked, but you never told us what she looked like. I did find that strange.¡± ¡°Ah, I hadn¡¯t thought about that.¡± Zax blinked. ¡°Your mutation makes you look like an actual harpy ¨C the creature ¨C so I figured a part of you at least admired her. Like, wishing for her strength, or her bold confidence or something. Fits with how clean your transition from human to not human part is.¡± ¡°I remember that part.¡± Aran reminisced. ¡°You explained it with something like¡­ self-hatred for doing what she needed to do to survive?¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± He nodded but kept his attention on SG. ¡°In any case, your history had to be more complex than you wanted to admit. Especially to yourself.¡± SG was staring at him, petrified and speechless.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Not ideal, but it was something. Yay, progress? ¡°Guess I was technically correct, but I thought we had made progress on your self-esteem.¡± Self-hatred. ¡°It might be deeper than I expected. Thinking back, I¡¯m sadly appealed I didn¡¯t notice sooner. You don¡¯t let yourself enjoy things. Even now, I¡¯m not sure I understand. Who, or what, is ¡®Harpy¡¯, to you? It wasn¡¯t just your name¡­¡± The SG ball fidgeted, her metal stool audibly squeaking at the rhythm of her clenching talons, but she couldn¡¯t break eye contact. Her meal was forgotten in front of her. Whatever she was looking for in his eyes, she must¡¯ve found it, as she relented: ¡°She was, who I needed to be, in the arena.¡± She cast her eyes down and whimpered. Had the room not been totally silent, it would¡¯ve been inaudible. Even the mice kept quiet. ¡°A role, for audience ratings. Nobody remembers my real name anymore. Not even I. Nobody cared. The trainers. The healers. The opponents. The audience. All they knew, all they wanted was ¡®Harpy¡¯. That¡¯s all they wanted me to be. So that¡¯s all I was, every time someone could see me.¡± ¡°And you hated it.¡± It was not a question. ¡°Of course I did! How could I possibly like it! Like her? Like being her!? She¡¯s a freak made to please monsters!¡± She shouted. ¡°There¡¯s nothing good in her! All that seem good is a setup to make an even worse payback!¡± Her voice broke. ¡°Too bad to be true, uh?¡± Aran contemplated. She hesitated, but managed to hold back on hugging her friend. ¡°Probably why she was so popular.¡± ¡°Also explains some of your quirks.¡± Zax added. ¡°Your impressive acting skills, for example. Without your nanites I would¡¯ve missed it most times. And why you use so few words. You spent so long speaking her ideas with her voice, you forgot yours. What you, SG, wants to say, and how.¡± ¡°So that¡¯s why you didn¡¯t say a word yesterday!¡± Aran burst out. ¡°You didn¡¯t want to bring her back, and you didn¡¯t have anything to say!¡± ¡°Was part of your stress because you were afraid of slipping back in¡­ her role, if a fight broke out?¡± Zax queried. Behind the bewilderment at her friend¡¯s reactions, SG¡¯s eye answered for her. Fear of losing control + Past trauma¡­ ¡°Living in a role so deep and so long, and the line between she and you hasn¡¯t blurred? That¡¯s¡­ frankly impressive.¡± Aran commented, awed. ¡°Probably because they are so different.¡± Opposite? Hmm. ¡°What about your skill?¡± Zax suddenly changed the subject. ¡°Uh?¡± ¡°Your fighting style is acrobatic. You don¡¯t like to fight, but your smile is always the brightest when you do acrobatics. And you¡¯re awesome at both. What do you think?¡± ¡°I¡­ like free running? And acrobatics¡­ It¡¯s like, I can, go anywhere. Almost like¡­ flying.¡± A fleeting smile crossed her face. And a blush too? ¡°And Harpy? Does she like flying?¡± ¡°Er, maybe?¡± SG felt something strange. It was the first time someone asked about her character like it was a character. Not as herself. She found herself genuinely pondering. ¡°She never had the occasion to do it for fun. I, think, she would¡¯ve liked it? It¡¯s something to hold above others¡­¡± ¡°What about training? Did you train fighting skills and acrobatics separately, then merged them?¡± ¡°Ah, no. We only trained in fighting. Using the environment was part of it, but it only became acrobatic when my mutations started. I only trained in, pure parkour? With you guys.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± Zax muttered. It could mean¡­ I¡¯ll have to test it. Later. ¡°What?¡± ¡°There were things you liked in your former life. You enjoy acting stories and being applauded for a performance. You just didn¡¯t like the audience and the role. And being forced to play, I guess.¡± ¡°You managed to find small spots of light in the darkness.¡± Aran supplemented. ¡°And those spots are still precious to you.¡± Zax nodded. ¡°I think you want to leave everything from that life behind, but you¡¯re ashamed because you don¡¯t want to let go of those parts.¡± SG¡¯s eyes widened. her shivers came back in force. Bull¡¯s-eye. ¡°Now that¡¯s the thing: you don¡¯t have to. You can¡¯t choose what life throws at you. You can only choose how you react to it. How you let it shape you. And I can tell, without a hint of a doubt, you made it shape you in the best person you could be.¡± ¡°We know you already killed. And we know you hated it.¡± Aran declared. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make you a bad person. Don¡¯t think we didn¡¯t notice that nobody was seriously hurt yesterday. With how outnumbered we were, accidental deaths would¡¯ve been perfectly natural, and you couldn¡¯t have been blamed for a few not-so-accidental ones. We were attacked! We did nothing to deserve it, and they came at us! And you still went out of your way to make sure nobody was hurt.¡± ¡°¡­ I would¡¯ve blamed me.¡± The winged girl muttered, looking away again. ¡°My point exactly. You are not a bad person. You understand how precious life is. Even theirs. Probably better than we do. Because of your experiences. The good has weight because of the bad. That¡¯s why you can¡¯t forget. Why you don¡¯t have to forget. Why you shouldn¡¯t.¡± ¡°I, It¡¯s, I-¡± SG was swaying on her seat, but she wasn¡¯t reflexively rejecting the idea anymore. She only needed a final push. Zax was happy to deliver: ¡°And part of you already knows it. That¡¯s why you can¡¯t decide how to wear your bracelet. You do know how you want it. You just don¡¯t want to see it yourself.¡± Silence. There was nothing to add. The feathered woman withdrew in her own mind, and her friends let her. She wasn¡¯t isolating herself this time; she was pondering. Breakfast ended without a word. Same for the way to the shop. Before working, SG perused an aisle. Zax was watching from the counter, but he didn¡¯t say anything either. It was the bracelet aisle. The selection in the shop wasn¡¯t large, but she found a suitable one and bought it with her own salary. It was supposed to cover the forearm, but she wore it on her left talon, just below the heel-equivalent. It didn¡¯t hinder her movement, and her custom shoes had already shown anything after her knee didn¡¯t change in bulk during exercise. The doter staple would stay snugly in place no matter how fast or and how much she moved. No need for customisation, yet. She also passed a silicon thread through her first bracelet and put it around her neck. She didn¡¯t explain. She didn¡¯t need to. Zax respected her silence and answered in kind, but his pride was radiating off him and his smile. That was her choice. To keep using her talons as primary manipulators; as life had trained her to. To use her wings and try to get hands back; as she now had the freedom to. To use her past to carry her future. Recognise and actualise. Chapter 72 - Breakthrough and Hostility I wonder if that¡¯s how my guardians felt. Zax couldn¡¯t resist the smile tugging at his lips, watching his apprentice and friend grow as a person. He knew how difficult it had been for her to fix her choice. Now she was set on her path, so his task was to support her. Maybe he could customise a screentime counter, to measure when she was favouring one of her bracelets? He would mention it later. For now, she deserved the revel in her moment. Checking his commands for the day, his eye naturally fell on the Core¡¯s message. The reward could only be delivered when he defined what a ¡°full set¡± was. He would get there, eventually, but it would take time. Frustrating. It made him want to focus on that experiment, but recent events had led to major, more immediate breakthroughs. SG¡¯s free running skill pattern kept eluding him, unlike the others he had looked for. Finally, he knew why: it was never a ¡°free running¡± or ¡°acrobatics¡± skill; it was an ¡°acrobatic fighting¡± skill. He was looking for the wrong things in the wrong parts! His desperate attempts at sharpening what he had were working, at least. This new mindset made defining a clear pattern a breeze. It took less than an hour, including the final checks and re-checks. He had been so incredibly close! She had just never used the full scope of her abilities, which was the one requirement he knew he needed from the start. It was the cleanest pattern he ever measured too, probably because of all her practice and experience over the years. It could hint she was better at her thing than he was at his. His pride would have taken a hit if nanotechnology was useful for anyone else. Incidentally, it also proved his theory about an actual ¡°start¡± and ¡°end¡± signal in the patterns. He would know what to look for in the future; where they were and where they were not, for sure. In addition, he confirmed that teaching a skill revealed its pattern, but less cleanly than personal training, itself less clear than actual, practical use. In this case, having true opponents probably helped too, and would have helped more if they had been better fighters. Not surprising, but good to confirm. With the pattern so easy to read, preparing the ¡°skill book¡± for Aran was a no-brainer. After his previous work, the ¡°parkour¡± part of the skill was more prevalent than the rest. The next training session would show if it worked as planned. If it did, it would revolutionise teaching and learning. For those willing to have nanites in their brain. Bummer. It might be further improved by the other breakthrough from the event: the resonance. Now better able to identify neural patterns, the recordings from all three dotters during the altercation were effortless to read. Now if what he read could be as straightforward to understand¡­ The first instance had been detected just as SG had been hit in the face, while Aran and Zax both had a fresh head wound. It only lasted a second, but at that moment, all their nanites were¡­ not in synch; they ran their identical programs on their own, according with their host. Not connected either; the programs still ran independently and there had been no interposition or transmission. All three of them had the same issue: ¡°How do I get (them) out of here?¡±, but only Zax had actually sent a query to his nanites. Out of habit, and without expecting an answer. For some reason, all three of their brains had reacted as if their helpers were analysing the question. Which didn¡¯t make sense; the expert confirmed they were operating normally, no change in their behaviour or their programs. It was almost like, in addition to their brain and the nanite processor, there had been a third brain in each of the dotters, ignoring the nanites but interacting in similar ways with the organic brain. Which didn¡¯t make sense. Zax knew anatomical weak points. Aran was at the back and could still see everyone, which had given their relative positions. The resulting solution matched SG¡¯s fighting expertise. Merging all those, the result could be explained. Which meant those ghost brains had also all worked as one, pooling the trio¡¯s perception, knowledge and resources together. Which didn¡¯t make sense. The results were there. The phenomenon shared similarities with the meditation effect he was studying on mice, but the relation if there was any was not obvious. That resonance affected nanites directly and nanites only, and was a known property of nano-technology. Even without the ¡°how¡± explained, once he knew what to look for the trigger conditions were plain to see. Relatively speaking. The brawl had had many brief instances of that ¡°super-resonance¡±, some with no obvious common points, and many occasions that seemed identical but didn¡¯t trigger anything. First, Zax had to actively be soliciting his nanites, even if for an unrelated task. Second, all three had to be in a similar enough state, physically, emotionally and mentally. Third, at least one had to have the other two in their field of view. There might have been others, more subtle, but those were the standouts from his analysis. He did quick experiments on the mice he already used to study the effects of meditation and basic resonance, but they didn¡¯t give conclusive results. The super-resonance was difficult to detect; he couldn¡¯t mark success or failure. Considering the similarities and differences between the resonances, he renamed the basic version he knew and understood as ¡°echo¡±, feeling ¡°resonance¡± was more dramatic and a better fit with the mysterious effect. ¡°Ghost brain¡± was too speculative, and just plain creepy. I can¡¯t believe it. It was crazy and insane, it still didn¡¯t make sense, but the data had spoken. Examples outside the brawl matched. Aran¡¯s surprise somersault, back during their first free-running session. She had mentioned occasional surges of inspiration when working on her WIL add-on; they fit the pattern of borrowing his skills. Same with Zax and wins in games beyond his level, and SG¡¯s handling of difficult clients. They all had, at some point, displayed a friend¡¯s skill beyond their own budding level. What more, they had noticed, but it hadn¡¯t felt abnormal at all. Merely lucky shots, stroke of genius and sudden inspirations. Figuring everything out had taken some time, mostly because of all the checks and re-checks and redundant analysis. He couldn¡¯t help it; nothing explained the barely detectable phenomenon and it irked his scientific mind.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Inexplicable but consistent rules. Can be used but not understood. Why¡­ why does that sound familiar, suddenly? The hobbyist frowned, but brushed it off. He was alone, so it had to be his own feeling. There were a lot of unanswered questions left. The path out of the brute lady¡¯s grasp had appeared spontaneously, as if he had known all along. It had been so obvious, so¡­ natural. He was actively looking for an exit, but the thought had appeared on its own, naturally. Not even a thought, more like¡­ a compulsion? No. He hadn¡¯t felt like he had to follow. Merely like it was the obvious thing to do. An instinct? Something he knew in his guts to be right, for no reason¡­ Better, but not quite. He hadn¡¯t reflected enough to look for a reason. It had just felt fundamentally right. And it wasn¡¯t how SG usually saw the world. He had checked. Creepy. Soooo creepy. Even someone who had put billions of machines in his own body, willingly, was deeply uneased by the idea of foreign thoughts spontaneously appearing and mixing with his. Even a friend¡¯s. The nanites were made by himself, at least, and he could get them out anytime. So frustrating. There were so many questions left! Any limits on how many people could be involved? How similar did they have to be? Complexity of the task? Distance? Duration? Cooldown? Overlap? What else could it do? Were nanites required at all? Screw full sets. Any idea of following the Core¡¯s incentive was utterly gone; understanding resonance was an absolute priority. He had to understand the phenomenon, without delay. What if it affected more than their minds? He didn¡¯t fancy remotely moving his friends¡¯ bodies. Or fainting because someone took sleeping pills. Or his dreams giving others hallucinations. Or stopping someone¡¯s vital functions. ¡°It¡¯s unlikely to go that far, but I¡¯m not willing to take the risk.¡± He explained at the end of the work day, keeping the last thought to himself. ¡°It would be pretty funny tho.¡± Aran answered. Zax eyed her askew. He didn¡¯t fancy perusing the movie scenarios she was imagining. ¡°It helped us. Often. A lot.¡± SG stated. She wasn¡¯t wrong, but it didn¡¯t mean it always would, or couldn¡¯t be used against them. Still, the reminder helped him take a step back, away from his dark thoughts. It didn¡¯t change his priorities, but he didn¡¯t feel the same urgency anymore. It never hurt them, and nothing hinted it would start. ¡°Glad you agree! Now, how are we doing this?¡± Aran closed the discussion to the more immediate concern. The afternoon was supposed to be filled with appointments in the little dot, but all the new applicants had cancelled one after the other. If someone said it wasn¡¯t related to the previous day¡¯s events, none of the dotters would believe them. Today¡¯s trip might be different than usual, even if not a violent one. ¡°I still need to meet with yesterday¡¯s applicants to get their templates and my nanites back, so I¡¯m going. The Enforcers took everyone who didn¡¯t flee, so it should be safe.¡± Zax cut any objection before they could rise. ¡°I should at least talk with Azar; we¡¯re clearly missing something. The community centre still owes me at least four templates for my help anyway, and I¡¯m not leaving my equipment or my nanites there.¡± The girls deflated, recognising they would not change his mind. They could have tried for only the templates, but not templates, civility and nanites. ¡°You still don¡¯t have to come. Our contract doesn¡¯t involve either of you. They don¡¯t owe you and you don¡¯t owe them.¡± ¡°I want to, say goodbye, at least.¡± SG defended. She had enjoyed her time with the children. Today was not daycare day, though. ¡°I¡¯d rather not leave you alone. And you just gave one more reason not to. We need to be together to resonate.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t start relying on it, it¡¯s not a crutch.¡± Zax warned, frowning. ¡°We can¡¯t make it happen, and we don¡¯t know what it¡¯ll do if it does.¡± ¡°Clumsy weapon. Hurts the wielder.¡± SG vigorously nodded her agreement. The tailed girl incomprehensibly blinked between the two, but nodded her assent. The trip to the little dot was uneventful. Expected, but still reassuring. Things were strange when they arrived though. ¡°Go away!¡± ¡°Get lost!¡± Nobody wanted to talk with them. ¡°We won¡¯t help you. Please leave.¡± ¡°We want nothing to do with you.¡± Not all were aggressive about it, but most didn¡¯t even open their doors to shout at them. One opened the door, growled at them and slammed it shut. ¡°Go back with your friends!¡± One even said with venom in her voice. ¡°They are right here?¡± Zax gestured to the women at his sides with a confused but even voice. Hurried shuffling noises were heard, followed by the door being opened ajar. A woman¡¯s worried eye appeared in the spilt, frowning as soon as she glanced at them. Progress, but is it good progress? ¡°Not them, dumbass.¡± ¡°They are the only friends I¡¯m still speaking with. The others left long ago.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb with me, boy.¡± She squinted. ¡°I can assure you I don¡¯t.¡± She was adamant, but Zax was even more. ¡°What¡¯s going on? Why are you suddenly breaking our contract?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care about that contract! Ask Azar!¡± She screamed and slammed the door at his face. ¡°By the stars, what kind of weird bug bit them all?¡± Aran was flummoxed. ¡°No idea, but at least we have a lead now. We were almost done with yesterday¡¯s applicants. Let¡¯s skip the others and go straight to the community centre.¡± ¡°Good idea. I hope he can explain. It¡¯s getting on my nerves.¡± ¡°Creepy.¡± SG added, turning with everyone to go down the stairs back in the street. ¡°Conspiracy?¡± ¡°Against us specifically? What would be the point?¡± ¡°She talked about ¡®friends¡¯. Do they think we¡¯re elated to ¡®the troublesome ones¡¯?¡± They kept discussing the mystery on the way to the community centre, but found no explanation. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Cera, the receptionist, seemed shocked at their presence, then irritated. Here too? ¡°I know our next appointment is in two days, but today¡¯s candidates all cancelled their appointments, and yesterday¡¯s refused to talk, so I couldn¡¯t get my nanites back. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll have better luck tomorrow. One of them advised to see Azar for an explanation. Is he available?¡± ¡°No. He¡¯s busy fixing your mess.¡± She frowned. ¡°My mess?¡± Zax blinked. So it really was something he did. ¡°What mess?¡± Her frown turned in a glare, but she didn¡¯t answer. ¡°Is someone sick because of my nanites?¡± It shouldn¡¯t be possible, but it would explain the sudden hostility. Still no answer from the girl at the desk. ¡°We¡¯ll wait for him.¡± Zax nodded, holding back a frown. ¡°They also mentioned friends of mine that are not Aran or SG.¡± He pointed behind him. ¡°Do you know who she was talking about? You seem¡­ sour, too.¡± ¡°We thought you were a friend; we welcomed you with open arms, and you went and brought trouble in our midst.¡± Azar¡¯s voice came from the side. It was more explanation than before, but still unclear. The dotter was mentally preparing for an annoying game of worm-it-out, but the answer was walking with the red-haired man. Azar¡¯s neutral face was broken by an unfriendly twitch, while behind them Agni was openly glaring at the newcomer. Tall and lanky woman. No obvious mutation. Her mid-length hairs were died bright blue to look like it, but the effect was ruined by her visible black roots. Had she taken a less contrasting colour, Zax would not have noticed right away. Her polite smile didn¡¯t reach her eyes, and her lifted chin betrayed haughty thoughts. They had no idea of who that woman was, but her uniform was unmistakably an enforcer¡¯s. If that¡¯s the trouble, how am I the one who brought it here? Chapter 73 - Sabotage ¡°So, you¡¯re the guy. Nice to meet you, my name¡¯s Kamin, Detective.¡± Her tone matched her posture; cavalier and self-assured, but not rude yet. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you.¡± She added. Was that an accusatory tone in the end? [ Confirmation. ] ¡°Hello, that¡¯s me. Here are my friends Aran and SG. Are you here in a professional capacity?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± She sounded offended, for some reason. ¡°In that case, I am legally required to inform you that all our exchanges will be recorded. The records are included in the Enforcer¡¯s public database and can be used legally.¡± A silent beat later: ¡°I¡¯m sure you were aware of the last part, but not everyone in this room was. Now, can you wait a bit? I¡¯m pretty sure I said all that had to be said yesterday, and I have private business to discuss with Azar.¡± ¡°Wha-¡± She frowned, but Zax cut her off. He wasn¡¯t in the mood for another entitled Resident right now: ¡°Thank you.¡± Turning to the community leader: ¡°I don¡¯t know if you heard, but all my private prestation were cancelled, nobody wants to speak to me and I couldn¡¯t get my nanites back. The last we went to actually spoke, and told us to see with you. Do you know what¡¯s happening?¡± ¡°This is happening!¡± He nearly shouted, simmering rage hardly visible behind the professional neutrality, pointing to the displeased Kamin. ¡°Nobody will talk to someone who bring Enforcers in the little dot.¡± Still calling it that, though. ¡°Oh, yeah, open systemic corruption would rarely help little dotters.¡± Aran sighed. ¡°We didn¡¯t consider that, but I can see it now. Severe tension between Enforcers and Disfavoured. Grudge projected against whoever gives them a reason to come¡­¡± ¡°¡­ They are mad because we called Enforcers for help during an aggression? What were we supposed to do? And why didn¡¯t they help first? The signal was spread to everyone, and it was heard by people a lot closer.¡± Zax reflexively replied, but realised as he talked they wouldn¡¯t answer in presence of an actual Enforcer. ¡°Nevermind. I don¡¯t understand your reasons, but I¡¯ll take your word for it. What do we do now?¡± ¡°She wanted us to arrange a meeting with you. You¡¯ve met, so it has nothing to do with us anymore.¡± Azar turned on his heels, but Zax called him before he could take a step: ¡°I meant about the templates you owe me. And yesterday¡¯s private prestation, too. Can I count on you to help us conclude what we started with minimum issues?¡± ¡°We¡¯re allowed to change our minds.¡± Agni stated. ¡°If we don¡¯t want to give you templates anymore, that¡¯s that and we¡¯re done.¡± ¡°True.¡± Zax nodded. ¡°But I still need to get my nanites back and to be compensated for my work-¡± ¡°Nanites!?¡± ¡°-as detailed in our contract.¡± Everyone ignored the detective¡¯s outburst. ¡°The clause was only there for completion¡¯s sake, but it was not an idle threat. I will do what I need to get my due. Templates or other.¡± Zax kept his tone neutral, but adamant. ¡°Agni, what is he talking about?¡± The boss turned to his daughter. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± The competent secretary browsed her clipboard and quickly found the contract and the relevant part. ¡°If the ¡®nanite infusion¡¯ is complete but we don¡¯t want to give the template, a monetary compensation, and¡­ if we can¡¯t give the nanites back for any reason, like if they¡¯ve been damaged by a 3G activation, a¡­ ouch, a way bigger monetary compensation.¡± She winced at the amount. It had been chosen to be dissuasive even for the Circle, and those things truly were expensive. ¡°Compensations replaceable by goods or services of equivalent value, but not discounts or gift cards, to negotiate for each case. If we refuse, he can take legal measures. Will take legal measures, I figure.¡± ¡°The community centre owes me four templates, and has had two infusions completed. Six private candidates have been infused too.¡± The hobbyist listed, relieved they wouldn¡¯t play ignorance. ¡°So, seven lawsuits to come. I¡¯d rather not either, and not just because of how long and expensive it¡¯d be. And I¡¯m sure nobody wants to keep my helpers in their bodies any longer than necessary.¡± Azar chewed on those words, but curtly relented as he stormed out: ¡°You¡¯ll get your nanites back. Most templates too, probably. We¡¯ll contact you on the platform.¡± ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll expect daily updates, even if nothing moved.¡± Zax called as the pair left without turning back. The three dotters and one Enforcer were left alone at the reception. Cera had left when nobody was watching. ¡°Well, that happened.¡± Zax¡¯s shoulders slumped. Regrettable, he was looking forwards to completing his basic templates database. The Enforcer next to him let out a cough, reminding them of her existence. She had waited without making a fuss, so he would extend her the courtesy: Right, your turn. Why does a detective want meet me? I said everything in my statement yesterday. And why here? My coordinates were included.¡± ¡°Maybe we could take this elsewhere?¡± Aran interrupted. ¡°We aren¡¯t welcome here anymore.¡± Right¡­ Zax felt, surprisingly burdened by the burnt bridge. Some people here were more than acquaintances. SG stayed behind to write a farewell note for the children. She owed them that, at least. Kamin began her explanation as they waited for her: ¡°I¡¯m working on a sensitive case. I can¡¯t give much details in front of others, but it¡¯s giving me trouble. I heard you could help, somehow.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. It was the most dismissive I-need-your-help tone the dotters had ever heard. Did she come all the way here without believing it? Red Flags all over. [ Alert ] Glad you agree. ¡°I have questions about that, but we¡¯ll get back to it later. Why here? You could¡¯ve messaged me directly. That would¡¯ve spared you the travel and the effort. I wasn¡¯t even supposed to come today.¡± ¡°How? Am I supposed to know the name and address of every dotter?¡± She sounded affronted. ¡°I just knew you were dealing with those people, and I came in person because they tend to be reluctant to help otherwise.¡± No kidding. ¡°Stars I wonder why.¡± Aran said aloud what everyone else was silently thinking. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense.¡± Zax frowned. ¡°I gave my coordinates in my statement yesterday.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about that.¡± Kamin blinked and frowned. ¡°That¡¯s not how you found me? How did you know I existed? And that I came here?¡± ¡°My superior told me when I reported my progress.¡± ¡°And how did he find me?¡± ¡°How would I know? We don¡¯t share our sources, and I¡¯m not asking my boss.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± He nodded. ¡°So I really brought you here, it was inevitable and it has nothing to do with yesterday.¡± Zax sighed deeply. ¡°Wait, are they mad because of you today or the others yesterday?¡± ¡°Probably both. Rumours spread fast.¡± Aran figured. ¡°Right.¡± He sighed again. ¡°Okay then. What kind of expertise do you require, exactly? The only thing I could be called a specialist of is versatile, but limited to the dot. You have better alternatives here.¡± ¡°You talked about nanites earlier? We can start with that. Let¡¯s go to the station, I¡¯ll show you what I¡¯m talking about.¡± With the afternoon suddenly free, he had no reason to refuse. The situation felt strange, especially how her boss had found him, but this woman didn¡¯t seem to know more. Her case and her issues seemed real, at least. In the worst-case scenario, it would be nothing but a waste of time, and he could experiment on the skill book during their next free running session. As a bonus, he might have the opportunity to fulfil the hidden quest again. Weird thought to have. As she was dealing with sensitive information, Aran and SG were ¡°politely¡± asked not to come. SG was still weary of an Enforcers¡¯ den, and Aran didn¡¯t see anything wrong with leaving him in such a place, so they separated in front of the station. It was in the busiest area in the middle of the bubble, so they had a lot of options. From the outside, the building was surprisingly close to the dot standard, just bigger and more stone than metal. Inside was a mixed bag. There was everything the dotter would expect to see from the media; waiting area, queues at a reception, low-level agent¡¯s desks in an open space at the front, closed rooms at the back probably for offices and interrogation rooms. Cupboards here and there. The constant buzz and movement of a busy workplace filled the air. It was subtly different from normal though. One queue moved visibly faster than the others, the desks were placed at irregular intervals, the seats were of many models, even uniforms were altered to show-off mutations. It was like they rejected standardisation as a basic concept, which uneased the professional item customizer and clothes adjuster at a level he didn¡¯t understand. The reason for the deviation was plain as day: the mutations had huge array of types and advancements. In the dot, they were rarely advanced enough to require severe adjustments in the workspace, regardless of the type. In this place, it was an actual concern. Only the building itself hadn¡¯t been built with this in mind. Zax couldn¡¯t tell if it was proper to enforcers, to the block, or to the Circle as a whole. The shops they had visited during their first visit had no equivalence in the dot, so he didn¡¯t have enough references. As expected, the most advanced mutants were higher in the hierarchy and mostly in the back. In the dot, it was because they were more competent or effective than their less mutated peers; whether the mutations were cause or consequence of such. Recent experiences made Zax less certain it applied in the Circle. If 3G was a result of negotiation with local powers and not personal accomplishments, their mutations would have less to do with their proficiency to their job. It could be good or bad. Hopefully, it still plays a major role. He didn¡¯t enjoy feeling paranoid, and as biased as their system was, it was at least stable. It had lasted that long, after all. That gave him some hope. Kamin ignored the hubbub and brought him to her desk in the open space, took several impressively thick paper files, and led him to the meeting rooms in the back. They were all full, so they had to settle for an interrogation room. There was no visible camera, but where a one-way mirror was supposed to be ¨C according to movies ¨C the wall was merely a different colour. A bio-technology with the same purpose? ¡°Sorry for that. First, sign here please.¡± Kamin didn¡¯t waste any time presenting him with an NDA. ¡°As I said, we¡¯re dealing with sensitive content. You can¡¯t tell a soul about what I¡¯m about to explain.¡± Annoying but fair request. The document was typical; inconvenient but nothing egregious or invasive. It didn¡¯t mention limitations on recordings however. He couldn¡¯t tell if it was an oversight or purposeful. She naturally gave him three physical copies to sign, one for him, one for her and one for the station. He elected not to mention he had already scanned and saved it digitally. Finally, she explained the situation. ¡°For weeks now, several small companies kept complaining about their technology acting weird. Small things at first.¡± She spread incident and audit reports as she listed examples. ¡°Printers giving more or less than asked, or with slightly different settings nobody had touched. Deliveries marked as complete as soon as the courier started their rounds. Old closed orders found in the ¡®in progress¡¯ category. Communications sent to the wrong desk. Things that could easily be explained by human error. Easy fixes nobody would bother witting about. When the sheer number of issues became noticeable, everyone received a note from their direct superiors to be more careful, and it was left at that.¡± ¡°But it didn¡¯t stop.¡± Zax completed. ¡°Instead, it got worse and bigger?¡± He added, reading further. ¡°Exactly. Issues requiring specific human errors despite redundant checks, too often to be natural. Communications sent outside the company, which shouldn¡¯t be possible by accident. And so on. The profits, credibility and reliability started taking a hit.¡± ¡°Sounds like sabotage.¡± ¡°They thought so too, and interior tension rose until someone managed to prove she didn¡¯t do the mistake she was accused of. She recorded herself with a private device. Must¡¯ve cost a fortune, but it worked.¡± ¡°Smart.¡± ¡°Others followed, and proved they did everything right but the result still came off wrong. Many filled official complaints and tried to sue, some as groups. We didn¡¯t take it seriously at first. This bubble uses technology a lot, but it is what it is.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound like the typical ¡®3G hates machines¡¯ issues.¡± ¡°We know that now. The incidents kept piling up and escalating, so we were ordered to send someone. Our experts didn¡¯t find anything, and more and more companies started having the same issue.¡± She pulled other folders, listing similar incidents from other places. ¡°We can¡¯t deny it, someone is making it all happen, but we can¡¯t find who, how, or even why. The companies and incidents appear unrelated, no one benefits long term, and those who tried became the next victims. And more worrying, it keeps on escalating, faster and faster. If it keeps going, someone might actually get hurt and I¡¯ll lose the case.¡± For a moment here, I thought you were worried about something besides yourself. ¡°You exhausted all your resources and it¡¯s a technology issue, so now you¡¯re turning to the dot for help. Makes sense. What did the dot Enforcers said?¡± ¡°What? I didn¡¯t ask them, I¡¯m asking you.¡± The blue-haired woman looked at him like he was an idiot. ¡°I¡¯m the first one you asked?¡± Zax blinked in surprise, but took it in stride. ¡°Alright. I can try and see if nano-technology or¡­ common dotter technology is involved, but there is an important question to consider beforehand.¡± He turned to her with the most serious gaze he had shown in her presence. ¡°What is that?¡± The change in mood made her frown. ¡°What will you pay me for my consults?¡± Chapter 74 - Help and... Help? Templates would have been favoured and more advantageous for the Enforcers, but no matter how Zax tried to sell it Kamin refused to entertain the idea. Disappointing but not surprising. Still, the endeavour would not be a total waste of time for the expert. The basic consultant fee was a tasteful sum of units per hour. The case-successfully-closed bonus was even more so, but he didn¡¯t have much hope of touching it. ¡°I think you¡¯re looking for a single person, not a team. A beginner, probably self-thought.¡± Zax gave his first conclusions right away. ¡°The escalation fits with a beginner pushing their luck further every time they get away with something. They are improving fast too. Talented, or they have a good teacher.¡± ¡°Our profilers said something like that too. Still creepy.¡± ¡°Then, seeing how lost you all are and that you¡¯re not getting closer to finding them, they got cocky and it became a game for them. ¡®What can I not do?¡¯ ¡®How far can I go?¡¯ That kind of thinking. Not a Kogito though, they¡¯re not improving that fast. The victims¡¯ affiliations are evenly spread, which is strange on its own. Natural tendencies would make them more familiar with a certain type of target. They purposefully attack everyone.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean much, the Family¡¯s connections are pretty unstable around here. Many companies are made to be sold quickly. Could be on purpose to throw us off their tail.¡± ¡°Right. Nobody¡¯s benefiting long-term, nobody¡¯s allowed to benefit from their stunts, but nobody¡¯s getting hurt either. Only the business¡¯s profit, and they change target before the victim has to make serious cuts. They have some moral compass, at least.¡± ¡°Not less creepy, but how do they do it?¡± Kamin whisper-shouted. ¡°We already combed every target¡¯s building, their computers, and even their neighbour¡¯s. There was nothing that wasn¡¯t supposed to be there. No malwares, no spywares, no hidden cameras, no secret connection, nothing.¡± ¡°You would have found ¡®dotter technology¡¯, right? Thought so. It wouldn¡¯t last long among constant disruption fields like you have here, though. Nano-technology could be used instead, in theory, but only if protected by a living organism. It would have to be close to the target, but no one would ever find it without specialised gear.¡± He patted to the B-Box at his side. ¡°Like you do with yours? Wait, you mean the employees are complicit?¡± Kamin didn¡¯t hide her horror at the idea. ¡°No necessarily. And unlikely. Someone would have let something slip by now.¡± Zax assuaged her. ¡°They could have been tampered with, though. Still unlikely, but possible. It would mean all the targets were contacted by the same group or person. Would you have noticed that king of common denominator?¡± She curtly nodded. ¡°If not an employee, it could be anything alive. A plant, a pet, a bug, even a flower. Spike their meals or their water, and you have a living nanite container. Easier said than done, and costly no matter what option they chose. Actually¡­¡± He frowned. ¡°Too costly for just playing around. They must be very rich, or very confident in getting their bots back, or¡­¡± ¡°How what?¡± She didn¡¯t like the ominous change in his tone. ¡°Or they earned their loss back somehow. Elsewhere. Somewhere we don¡¯t see.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s not be hasty. Some victims have very high connections.¡± She understood the implications, but didn¡¯t want to risk it. ¡°We don¡¯t even know if they used your thing.¡± ¡°True, I¡¯ll have to go in the field for that. And depending on how well-hidden they are, my B-box here might not be enough.¡± He knocked on the top for emphasis. ¡°I¡¯ll have to get more specialised equipment in my workshop.¡± Visits were another issue. The first victims¡¯ hypothetical nanites would have been destroyed or removed long ago. The current victims were more than a bit reluctant to help with the investigation. Their only contacts were through lawyers, and they wasted a lot of time on technicalities. ¡°One would think they don¡¯t want us to find the culprit.¡± Kamin commented. They claimed another reason; they had long-standing contracts with major companies in several fields and in other bubbles. Hence the recently enforced NDA and high risk of having the case taken; it was one major incident away from becoming a high-profile case. She left him in the interrogation room to go and see about organising visits. It wasn¡¯t supposed to take long, and it wouldn¡¯t make sense to plan further until they knew he¡¯d be allowed on site. With nothing better to do, Zax was pouring over the most recent reports when someone loudly opened the door. ¡°You. Come with me.¡± Came an authoritative male voice. The speaker had left before Zax could lift his head and see who it was. He hardly had time to recognise the back of an Enforcer uniform disappear in the door frame. Tall, muscular, and according to the picture he pulled from his mental archives, dark brown leathery skin all over. Should I follow? It didn¡¯t take long to decide against it. Kamin had told him to ¡°stay put¡±, and whoever this man was hadn¡¯t given him a strong incentive. He merely closed the door and was just sitting back down when the door burst open again:Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°Oy, you deaf?! I said get out!¡± This time the screamer stayed long enough to be seen, his hand tight on the handle and glaring eyes. His leather skin was matched with matching bull horns. His enforcer uniform was that of a higher rank than patrol officer, but Zax wasn¡¯t familiar with the exact hierarchy. ¡°Hello. My hearing is fine, and I heard ¡®Come with me¡¯. I didn¡¯t see who it was, I don¡¯t know who you are, and you didn¡¯t give me a reason to go against a detective¡¯s order.¡± Zax calmly replied. Bull-types were notoriously short-tempered and impulsive, and this one was already rearing up. Attempts at defusing him would be in vain, so Zax didn¡¯t bother. Taking the opposite path might give better results. Bull didn¡¯t charge, but he stomped to him and reached for his collar. The dotter reflexively leaned back and out of his chair. It was out of character for him to jump that far, but he wasn¡¯t used to confrontations turning physical so fast, and he might still be a bit jumpy from the last day¡¯s attack. With Vester and Ertor when they first met, the recent thugs, and now even an Enforcer; it was a worrying trend among physically enhanced Residents. Were they never thought self-restraint? His resistance was not appreciated. The Enforcer¡¯s mutation was probably the only reason his face wasn¡¯t glowing red right now, too thick skin, but his puffing and shouting made his irritation more than obvious. ¡°Why you little-¡± He kept screaming as he reached for the collar again, or maybe the throat this time, and the dotter dodged again. Probably not the wisest decision, but at that point he was too scared not to. Luckily, this man¡¯s mutations didn¡¯t seem to make him faster. Nor wiser, as he kept trying to grab him in the same way, lunging and shouting all kind of threats and invectives. Credit where credit was due, he had a surprisingly colourful language and extended vocabulary. In one turn around the table, without a single cuss word, he had insulted Zax¡¯s mother, all his bloodline, his appearance, his taste, every friend he ever had and will ever have. One more circle around the table, he was starting on his school and education when Kamin, an older Enforcer of yet higher rank stormed the room: ¡°WHAT¡¯S GOING ON HERE!?¡± The first two shouted at once. Another Resident in civilian clothes was on their heels. Chaser and chased froze, but the bovine enforcer quickly stood to attention and answered: ¡°Captain! This perpetrator refuses to cooperate, so I was in the process of handling him.¡± Captain? That old man was their leader? He didn¡¯t look the part, besides the uniform, but the dotter didn¡¯t know what to expect. His black and white hair and eyes did hint at a cerebral mutation though, so maybe it was more advanced than he thought. It would fit with the theory that more advanced mutations paired with unnatural patterns. Stripped hair was uncommon at best, but the hobbyist had only heard of bicoloured eyes, let alone horizontally striped irises. At least they were symmetrical. His mutation might be even more advanced than Cat¡¯s and Dog¡¯s. Better not underestimate this guy. Zax didn¡¯t say anything, waiting to see how the situation would unfold. Kamin didn¡¯t let him: ¡°What perp? You, what happened?¡± she seemed to have forgotten his name. ¡°You told me to wait here, so I waited. Then this unrelated person arrived and started spouting opposite orders.¡± He pointed with his thumb. ¡°He immediately got physical, without explaining anything. I think he expected me to obey without knowing who he was, why I should follow, where he wanted me to go, or what he wanted. Weird thing to assume, I know, but that¡¯s the best explanation I have.¡± Maybe not that weird around here. ¡°And why is it on every screen in the station?!¡± ¡°I felt threatened with immediate violence, so the priority of my livestream was raised accordingly. The normal process. Every screen though? I didn¡¯t think your official ¡®emergency¡¯ setting had that kind of effect. Guess you don¡¯t have that many broadcasts.¡± ¡°Stop that. Now.¡± The captain ordered in a voice that bore no discussion. ¡°You already calmed the situation, so it should already not count as emergency anymore.¡± Quickly checking his neural interface: ¡°I confirm, the stream is back to normal settings. People will only see it if they look for it.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb with me boy. Your hacking and your streaming are bad offences already, you don¡¯t want to add resistance. You¡¯re in enough trouble already.¡± ¡°What trouble? What offence?¡± Zax was as confused as he was worried. Not a lot yet, but getting there. ¡°I¡¯m using the open network called ¡®Enforcer communication channel (public)¡¯, that is free of use and that you¡¯re required to provide for that purpose. Nothing that remotely counts as an offence. Especially not a punishable one.¡± ¡°Nobody here gave the right to their image, so stop your broadcast.¡± The captain insisted. ¡°There is no expectation of privacy within an Enforcer station. It¡¯s common knowledge. It¡¯s one of the few points medias get right.¡± Zax refuted. ¡°Plus, I told your agent before they brought me here, and they didn¡¯t mind.¡± The captain didn¡¯t appreciate this resistance either. Kamin winced but didn¡¯t dare to speak up. Her eyes kept switching between the two, bracing for the imminent explosion. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s stop right here.¡± came a new voice. The civilian who had come with the captain stepped between the two. His amused smile had only grown since his arrival. ¡°Clearly, it was just a miscommunication. Nobody did anything wrong, so let¡¯s move on.¡± ¡°Yes sir.¡± The captain immediately complied. The other enforcers naturally followed, confused but not voicing anything. What now? He didn¡¯t seem particularly mutated for the Circle, but the captain had folded instantly. Suspicious, things shouldn¡¯t work that way in the dot or the Circle. ¡°I disagree with the last part, but I¡¯d like to move on too.¡± Zax stated. He was missing important parts of the situation, so better cover himself in the recording, in case the current events were used against him later. ¡°Great!¡± Civilian clapped once, his smile and his voice overly sweet. ¡°Now everyone please leave. Zax and I need to have a word.¡± ¡°We do?¡± Zax blinked. The enforcers complied again. Kamin hesitated a little, but a shout from Bull made her leave without even taking the papers of her sensitive case with her. ¡°You¡¯re kinda hard to get a hold of.¡± Civilian noted as he took a seat. ¡°Thank you?¡± Zax couldn¡¯t tell if it was a complement, a blame, or a factual statement. ¡°Who are you?¡± [ Memory package ] Prompted by the question, Zax¡¯s nanites pushed a recent memory to the surface of his mind, reminding him what the previous day¡¯s enforcer had said: an order had been given to have him brought to the station. He had totally forgotten, or he would have been more wary of following Kamin. ¡°You really like your recordings, don¡¯t you?¡± The man ignored the question. Am I actually in trouble? Chapter 75 - Prototype ¡°I didn¡¯t believe the reports, but your little stunt fixed that. It made you owe me one too.¡± Civilian talked in casual tone, as if to an old friend. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°For deescalating the situation before it got ugly.¡± He stated like it was obvious. ¡°Why would I owe you for that? I didn¡¯t do anything wrong or illegal, so any ugly escalation would¡¯ve been at their expense, not mine. If anything, the captain owes you for saving his career and/or his image.¡± ¡°Ah, to be young and na?ve again.¡± Civilian reminisced or mocked. ¡°On the other hand, you used that opportunity to be alone with me, which seems to be what you were after from the beginning, so maybe the captain is even now. In the end, I¡¯d say you helped yourself more than I. Or them. It also makes me think you¡¯re the reason behind that order to bring me here yesterday. Are you?¡± ¡°You knew? You knew and you still didn¡¯t come?¡± He raised both eyebrows. ¡°I was exhausted and still shaken from being mugged. All I wanted was to go home and collapse in a safe place. Now, what do you want from me?¡± ¡°Care to take a guess?¡± The flabbergasted face was replaced by an amused grin and a singsong tone. ¡°No. I¡¯ve never met you. I don¡¯t know who you are. The only dealings I have in the Circle currently only involves Residents who won¡¯t involve enforcers if they can help it. You¡¯ve read accurate reports about me but you didn¡¯t believe them. You talk as is we were old friends but you didn¡¯t introduce yourself.¡± It might be a bit curt, but Zax was getting fed up with those constant setbacks. [ Theory: deeper involvement. Uploading hints. ] ¡°And it just now occurs to me, you or whoever you work for might have ordered the captain to send the detective after me. It would explain her specific but spotty knowledge about me and why she acted this way instead of calling me like a normal person. Was there any chance I could actually help? But it¡¯s just speculation, so nevermind. No, I don¡¯t care to take a guess. Or play your games. Or waste more time.¡± Civilian wasn¡¯t smiling anymore, but he wasn¡¯t grimacing either. A perfect poker face, betraying a skilled actor. He didn¡¯t change his laid-back body language, however. ¡°The reports did say you favoured the direct approach. They didn¡¯t say you were so rude though.¡± He stated as he took a folded paper from his pocket and put in on the table. ¡°We want you to read that aloud, record it like you do naturally, and spread it like the other. In exchange, we guarantee a mutation, plus more 3G than you ever saw in your life, free-for-life lodging in the richest bubble of the Circle, fully furnished and staffed, and more. However! There can be no trace of that exchange. No contract, not letting anyone know, not even from your current recording. That is non-negotiable. You¡¯ll speak naturally, of your own initiative, because you saw the damages your previous recording was causing. Someone will notice and sponsor you as a reward. That happens, no one will question it.¡± What a weird request. His part was extremely simple too. He¡¯d have to clear up suspicious points first, but it didn¡¯t seem too nefarious. And rework the payment, no way he was moving out. ¡°What do you want me to say?¡± He reached for the paper, but it was snatched before he was halfway. ¡°You can¡¯t know the details until you formally agreed. We need to know you¡¯ll do it.¡± ¡°Who¡¯s ¡®we¡¯?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t know the details yet.¡± ¡°Why is that secrecy so important?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t know the details yet. But it should be obvious once you¡¯ve read the paper.¡± ¡°Why are you giving so much?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t know the details yet. What I can tell you is; this is nothing to us. Pocket change, at most.¡± [ Warning : Implied threat ] Too subtle for a threat, I think. I might be getting paranoid. ¡°What guarantee do I have that you¡¯ll hold your side?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t know the- oh, wait, you can know that. You have my word. I swear it on the Families.¡± He put his hand in front of his chest in a strange, but deliberate gesture. ¡°You can see how serious it is.¡± He added with a decisive nod. ¡°¡­ Not really.¡± Zax¡¯s mask twisted a hint. ¡°I don¡¯t know which Families you¡¯re talking about, I don¡¯t know how important they are to you, and I never saw that gesture before.¡± He tried to placate any potential offence: ¡°I¡¯m sure it has a lot of meaning to you, but it can¡¯t replace an official contract.¡± Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. He couldn¡¯t tell if the placating had failed or not. He tried other questions to make the offer seem less suspicious, such as ¡°what guaranty do you have that I¡¯ll hold my side?¡±, ¡°what recording are you talking about?¡± and ¡°what damages are you talking about?¡±, but they were all met with variants of the same answer: ¡°You can¡¯t know the details yet.¡± Once out of questions, the handyman could only give up. He gathered Kamin¡¯s papers, still spread on the table, as he summarised: ¡°You want me to make and spread an undisclosed declaration, for an undisclosed party and undisclosed reasons, in reaction to undisclosed damages, from an undisclosed recording I allegedly did.¡± We wondered where Bathor had been, but it would make no sense. She would¡¯ve given them better payment options and helped them appear more trustworthy. ¡°Sorry, but I¡¯m not interested. It¡¯s way too shady for my tastes, and you didn¡¯t do your homework. Which is suspicious if you have that much resources.¡± He was opening the door, papers in hand, when the still unnamed man called: ¡°Aw, c¡¯mon, what¡¯s a little shadiness for those rewards? Are you even a mutant if you pass that up?¡± ¡°See? That¡¯s what I meant about homework.¡± Zax glanced behind him and shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not a mutant. Never activated, and not for a lack of trying. No idea why your reports didn¡¯t mention it. Maybe you thought they were wrong again?¡± He left without waiting for an answer. Kamin was at desk in the open space. When he gave her file back, she confirmed she still wanted his help, but as expected the lawyers were in the way again. She would contact him when they were done with their thing, but she didn¡¯t know how long it would take. The handyman sighed, gave her his available time, confirmed she had his coordinates, and left the station. He looked at the hour and was surprised at how little time had passed. This side quest had felt like an eternity, but they had arrived at the station hardly an hour ago. This expedition had been bad news after trouble after bad news; he wanted nothing more than to relax with his friends. He had been looking forward to testing the first actual skill book prototype all day. The station¡¯s signal wasn¡¯t strong enough to connect to its network from outside, so he went to the nearby transport stop to mentally save a picture of the local map, connect to the public network and see where the girls had gone. The localisation function wasn¡¯t available outside the dot, but they had sent a message. He jogged as a warm-up and joined them at the nearby park. It was¡­ less organic than expected. Sure, every unoccupied ground was covered in grass and soft soil, but there was not a tree or bush in sight. Guess they don¡¯t need to when there are so many in the streets? It wouldn¡¯t be as soothing if it was a common sight. The playgrounds were the normal fare to make children move and spend energy. Zax expected more stone, but it was as much metal as the dot¡¯s. He wouldn¡¯t complain about familiarity. Given the new experiments and their general need to unwind with a mindless activity, they focused on the basic moves. The results were incredible; the prototype had worked spectacularly. Normal training had made Aran proficient enough to do the fundamentals on her own, but today each repetition was a league better than the last. SG and Zax¡¯s nanites observed the results of one week of daily training in minutes. Minutes. ¡°Incredible¡± didn¡¯t do it justice. Her movements were smoother, her breathing more controlled, her balance sturdier. It didn¡¯t seem much, but the effect was tremendous on her speed, stamina, and even her power and flexibility. Every movement was just that much more effective. Her somersaults rose higher, and she could now chain them up. Her high jumps went higher. Her long jumps further. Her grip was sturdier. It wasn¡¯t like her muscle mass had changed in any way, but her technical skill was a world apart. It wasn¡¯t perfect, however. She was not naturally aware of what she could or couldn¡¯t do. She overshot many times. SG could see a wall or an obstacle and know if she could climb it and how. Aran couldn¡¯t. ¡°It just comes down to real experience.¡± SG stated. Zax concurred. The foxy girl had the technique and a compatible body; she just had to figure what those techniques were. They even had a lead on how to do that. Like the first accidental overachievement, she was to move without thinking about her own movements. Easier said than done. It only had to be done once per move though, afterwards she would be aware of the new move and could practice it normally. Her fear of heights was another obstacle, but the skill book couldn¡¯t do anything about that. Pure technique wouldn¡¯t change the limitations of her body either, so she wouldn¡¯t stand toe to claw with SG anytime soon. Lastly, Aran¡¯s biggest disappointment, the neural pattern didn¡¯t have incrementing thresholds of difficulty. The model¡¯s proficiency was transmitted directly; only the user¡¯s hesitations would stop them from directly using it fully. The skill book wouldn¡¯t work as a typical RPG mechanic. The closest would be to only give part of the pattern, a partial skill, and Zax wasn¡¯t sure it was actually possible. He had tried to only keep the free running part of SG¡¯s skill, but some fighting moves ended up mixed in. SG had refused to try them, but it was undeniable. There was simply no clear limit between specific parts. As far as the expert could tell, at least some bleeding was inevitable. In any case, the prototype was a resounding success. It was now just a matter of fine-tunning and smoothing the edges. The handyman was even confident enough to consider using it on himself. As if to deflate his rising ego, the following experiments were a resounding failure. No matter what they tried ¨C and they tried a lot ¨C they couldn¡¯t force a resonance to happen. Aran suggested they needed actual opponents, which made SG shiver, but Zax shot the idea down. Minor instances could happen with only the three of them. ¡°It¡¯s so frustrating! The rules are weird but clear. Why is it so hard to actually use them!?¡± He vented. ¡°Haha. When nanites act like the 3G, right?¡± Aran laughed. ¡°What?¡± Zax¡¯s head snapped to her. ¡°Well, hum-¡± She jumped back, surprised at the sudden move. ¡°Inexplicable but consistent rules. We try to use them, but we don¡¯t understand them. And we rarely succeed. It sounds a lot like¡­ the common comments in the 3G activation forum. I¡¯ve been skimming a bit, now and then.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ correct. I didn¡¯t notice.¡± They were done with experiments for the day, but they stayed a bit longer. Aran¡¯s new skill felt like a superpower, SG had fun with her, and Zax couldn¡¯t get her comment out of his head. He had seen it and he couldn¡¯t unsee it. There were many other similitudes between the 3G and some of his nanites. Uncannily so. Especially specific configurations of the swarm. The most effective ones; developing naturally when aiming for optimum energy efficiency. It was too fitting to be a coincidence, but what could it mean? The hobbyist was certain it was related to the mysterious resonance. He couldn¡¯t pinpoint a reason, it was highly speculative and unbecoming of a scientist, but he couldn¡¯t help it. The thought was there and refused to go. Chapter 76 - Duality Chapter 76 - Duality ¡°How can nano-technology behave like something that opposes technology at its core!?¡± Zax shouted his frustration to his friends as they played a video game in the living room. ¡°Or is it 3G that behaves like technology??¡± He was obsessing over the question for days and wasn¡¯t any closer to an answer. It took so much of his mental space he had to ration his study time again. It was even more frustrating than usual, because each session showed not progress at all! Skill books were basically a solved question, he had even set a passive program to detect and record the skills they used in their daily life. With their agreement, of course. Was there a point? Who knew? It¡¯s was just fun, really. The idea of a library with every skill ever was nowhere in their minds, but it didn¡¯t cost anything to start. The resonance, on the other hand, kept eluding him. Which might not be unrelated with the current headache. Aran couldn¡¯t help feeling amused; he was usually so assured in his mastery. ¡°By the way, I remembered something a few days ago, but I keep forgetting.¡± She tried as a diversion. ¡°You never told me what you thought of my tail.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± Diversion succeeded; he was totally nonplussed by the non-sequitur. So was SG. The gamer girl wasn¡¯t the type to fish for compliments. ¡°When we first met, I remember you saying it was remarkable in some way I didn¡¯t understand, but you didn¡¯t want to tell me before you were done with my template.¡± She absentmindedly petted the appendage in her lap. ¡°Ah, right. Then there was the issue with your graft and by the time it was solved it was old news.¡± ¡°Sooo?¡± ¡°You scolded me for publicly exposing something so intimate, and more than once. Are you sure you want me to say it aloud, right here and now?¡± He raised an eyebrow. Only SG was in the room with them, but the principle still applied. ¡°¡­ Is it that bad?¡± She side-eyed him, frowning. ¡°I forgot the details. I don¡¯t think so. But I remember thinking you wouldn¡¯t want some parts to spread. Maybe it was something embarrassing?¡± SG tried to hide her interest, pretending to be focused on her game. The game over screen marked her failure. ¡°Ok, you win. Tell me later.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll mail your file. You can read at your leisure.¡± ¡°Works for me.¡± Later that night, Aran was reading her own file, in the comfort of her couch with nothing but the sheets on. It was¡­ a lot more than she expected. She literally only had a tail. Even if it was a unique tail, and a ¡°wonderful example of duality¡±, there could only be so much to say about it, right? Wrong! It was not a few pages of text, with maybe a few sketches and comparisons. What she found was more than a thousand pages of theories, explanations, diagrams and graphics. Not idle reflexions either. It had a coherent structure, links to bibliographic references, antecedents and even counterarguments to the points it was trying to make. Questions were asked about every aspect, including some she had never considered. Or known to be a thing. Causes, consequences, process, progress, each with physical and psychological sub-sections, potential developments and how to favour or avoid them¡­ None were certain, most mere suggestions, but all had at least two directions for future discussions. This coaching thing is a lot more complex than I thought. Most technical names and scientific conventions went over the foxy girl¡¯s head, she skimmed those parts. She understood the essence of what it was trying to convey: her tail had both feline and canine characteristics, most likely a house cat and a fox. It was remarkable because besides cosmetic traits, the features of a second foreign organism usually appeared once the first one¡¯s were fully established, not before. ¡°So I¡¯m supposed to be as fox as I had to before the cat parts appeared, or the opposite. But even with only a tail, both are¡­ competing? for the first place¡­¡± She muttered under her breath. It does sound weird when it¡¯s presented like that. Intrigued despite herself, she read the final conclusion aloud, at low volume: ¡°Subject mutation is a reflexion of her lifestyle, split between what she naturally tends towards and what she is constantly actively training (see ¡°Nature VS Culture¡± discussions). Both aspects are unrelated, but not opposing or incompatible. Which side feeding which mutation is a debatable point, but this ambiguity and the aspects¡¯ synergy would only support this unusual coexistence. Her childhood trauma could also explain her subconscious desperately hanging on to perceived survival traits despite her lack of conscious interest.¡± Wait, what ¡°childhood trauma¡±? Frowning, she went back to the psychological section of the relevant chapter. Again, a lot of guesswork when her tail was involved, but solid foundations based on her history and personality. Aran couldn¡¯t deny those, much to her chagrin. She truly was a gamer to the core, and she did tend to present herself as what others wanted her to be. The profiling branching from there sounded like speculation, but it¡­ made sense, somehow. It fit together, at least. It reminded her of past dilemmas she faced, and even without the details of the situations, it was accurate to her mental state at the time and the decision she took. Or refused to take. Or, failed to take. It even hinted at things she hadn¡¯t thought about for years and forgotten. Things she definitely never mentioned around Zax. Shaking the thought away, Aran looked for mentions of the alleged trauma. It wasn¡¯t highlighted, just an argument among others, so it took some time, but she eventually found it. Night terrors. She had had a few crises when she was a child, but as unpleasant as the experience had been, it had been brief. Light medication had solved the issue in, what, a few weeks? A month, tops. Sure, she never knew why it had happened, but it didn¡¯t matter anymore, right? Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Still, something gnawed at her certitude. Zax had never hinted at something being wrong with her, but it sounded serious. Reading further, among the list of possible causes leading to her current state, something caught her eye. A few elements, although unremarkable among the others, kept catching her eye. Wait, is that it? Someone close to her lying to her for her own good, someone close to her being hurt because she was too open and blatant, frequent but weak relationships being normalised... Sorting the right pieces from the wrong ones, she was reminded of an old recurring nightmare. It had stopped before the night terrors started though, and never came back since, but it did fit¡­ It wasn¡¯t a dream? The mere idea shook her to the core. She sat up in her bed, hot and panting, heart beating up a storm, her eyes staring in the void. In the past. It really happened? She had never considered it, but it seemed so obvious now. She actually¡­ because of me? It explained so much of her childhood. Things she had never questioned but seemed so strange now. The work hours. The steady flow of unknown but varied people. Not being allowed to talk to them. The reluctance to talk about her father. The motherly advices that made so easy to make others share a room or just one more a meal¡­ It was all true. Undeniability weighted on her shoulders. The tailed girl collapsed in a ball and hid beneath the covers. She didn¡¯t bother trying to sleep. She spent what felt like hours under there, eyes unblinking, rehashing memories under a new lens, taunted by her own past, trying to untangle her tumultuous emotions. Who am I? What am I? What does it mean? She didn¡¯t sleep that night. *** When the next day started, Zax was mutely greeted by SG alone. She was preparing the pills for their breakfast, slightly concerned eyes. Aran was usually the first awake, even when she was the last to leave. A quick glance showed the foxy girl was still on the unfolded couch, hidden under the sheets. Her breathing was deep and slow, nearly roaring in the quiet of the room. It didn¡¯t sound like a health issue, but nor like sleep either. Zax nodded to SG and quietly moved closer to the couch. Her nanites hadn¡¯t send an alarm, but he didn¡¯t exactly have a live feed of her vitals. ¡°Aran? It¡¯s getting late.¡± He poked at the mound under the sheet. No reaction. Not even the breathing sound changed. ¡°Aran? Are you alright?¡± Now actually concerned, Zax slowly pulled the sheet off. She looked awful. Dark ring under red and unblinking eyes, clammy skin sticking to the bedsheet, and she didn¡¯t react when called. ¡°No, you¡¯re not. What happened?¡± He mentally activated her Zax-Box stored under the couch and started the live feed. At the same time, he touched her arm and she finally moved, startled. He moved his arm back, not wanting to make things worse. ¡°Wh- wha-¡± She took a second to get her bearing. Zax noticed the active pad in her bed, open at a familiar page. Oh. ¡°Zax. SG.¡± She looked at them like a free-falling man staring at a parachute just out of reach. She forced through hardly repressed sobs, her voice broken. ¡°Who, am, I?¡± Zax kneeled on the bed next to her, SG on the other side. ¡°Despite everything, you are still you.¡± He didn¡¯t know what part of his report had put her in that state, but it didn¡¯t matter. He had first-hand experience wrangling that kind of doubt. ¡°Nothing more, nothing less.¡± SG took them both in her embrace, demanding a group hug with her large wingspan. No one complained. The distressed girl¡¯s breathing eventually turned back to normal, her fist clenching around SG¡¯s feathers and Zax¡¯s shirt. She settled her breath with a last deep inspiration, her decision taken. ¡°I¡¯ll be both.¡± She whispered. Before he could ask, Zax felt something traverse his whole body and he fainted. He woke up to panicked shouts from a female voice. It sounded both too far away to understand and close enough to make him wince. He hoped she was fine. What a splitting headache. It was hard to think. Did he fall asleep? He felt warm all over, his body too heavy to move but not uncomfortable. It was like a heavy blanket made of love and lead. He wanted to dive back in the serenity of sleep, but the distressed sounds anchored him. She needed help. Maybe he could do something? He would have to open his eyes though. There was something familiar with her voice, but the molasses in his brain made it hard to remember. As if a switch had been flipped, the physical and mental mud disappeared. His eyes snapped open and he sat straight up. He was on the couch, SG removing her protective wings, Aran scrambling to the stock of working bracelets. She startled and jumped to him. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m¡­ fine.¡± He repeated after checking himself and getting confirmation from his nanites. ¡°It¡¯s over.¡± That was when he noticed Aran¡¯s changes. She hadn¡¯t bothered putting clothes on, so it was unmissable. Her skin was a shade or two darker, her hands and feet adorned with black fur and claws, but still hands and feet. Her 3G had activated under emotional pressure, guided by her decision, mutation her body further. An accomplishment for a dotter, but¡­ ¡°How long was I out?¡± ¡°I dunno, one minute? No, less than that.¡± Aran blinked. SG nodded her agreement. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. I felt something through my body, I think from your activation, then I woke up with a nasty headache, then it was over. What was it like for you?¡± ¡°Not much?¡± They shrugged. ¡°You made a weird noise when I started glowing, but we thought it was just surprise. You collapsed just as it ended. SG covered you for protection, just in case, and I called the emergencies.¡± She lifted her hand with the working but blank bracelet. The useless shell of her old one was still on her arm. ¡°Tried to, at least, but you woke up before I could re-set my account.¡± ¡°Glad it¡¯s over. Can I look?¡± Zax eagerly stared at her new additions. Slight tan, possibly related to a general enhancement. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we go the healing centre?¡± She raised an eyebrow as she let him take her hand in his. ¡°Do you feel pain or discomfort?¡± He lifted his eyes to hers, alarmed. ¡°For you, dumbass.¡± She deadpanned. ¡°Oh. No need, it¡¯s over.¡± He turned back to the matter at hand. Thin, soft, uniform fur. Covers everything but the inner part of the hand. Typical. ¡°Yes need! We don¡¯t know what happened, and you¡¯re not going to be the so-called smart character who makes all the dumb decision in the horror movie.¡± She stated, SG nodding vigorously at their side. ¡°We¡¯re not in a movie, it can wait. This is more important and you¡¯re just here.¡± Thicker skin in general. Coloured cals, will become paw pads. Pink and black pads, interesting. Knowing he wouldn¡¯t change his mind, the newly low-intermediate mutant changed tactics. ¡°This is important too.¡± She pulled her hand back, hanging it above his head just out of reach. Had she grown taller? ¡°You can infuse me new nanites now, but we¡¯re going as soon as it¡¯s done. You can scan me on the way.¡± ¡°Works for me.¡± He nodded. She gave her hand back so he could finish quickly. What¡¯s up with those claws? At first glance, they were ordinary permanent claws, too short to be useful because unfinished; typical canine trait. Pressing around their roots revealed they were slightly retracted. Not much, but enough to clearly be a feature, not a bug. Too long for retractable claws, too short for non-retractable ones. Strange, but it fit with her general motif. He would have to check for precedents. The shape was off too, another hint that she wasn¡¯t finished, or of her duality. Or both. ¡°Done with the preliminary observations. Let¡¯s move on to- what?¡± Something in his HUD stopped him mid-sentence. His eyes wide as he struggled to process the information. ¡°What? What!?¡± Aran shook his shoulder, worried it was a side effect of whatever had knocked him out before. ¡°Your¡­ your nanites¡­ are fine. 77.8% of the initial load is left, operating within normal parameters. More wear than normal over-time-use, but way less than an activation should have left.¡± ¡°What? What does that mean?¡± Zax took a moment to think. He pressed and overturned his brain for any hint of an explanation, any shadow of a possibility, no matter how farfetched and unlikely. In the end, he only had one answer to give. It cost him greatly to admit it: ¡°I have no idea.¡± Chapter 77 - Unlocked ¡°This is so¡­¡± Zax looked for the right word to describe his impressions. His nanites didn¡¯t show any anomaly in his body, but Aran had insisted so here they were, in the waiting room of the healing centre, waiting for their turn. For the Nth time, Zax was renewing the diagnosis from Aran¡¯s nanites, but he kept getting all-green status even from the supposedly more fragile C-nanites. The missing thirty something percent in her load had been replaced, and with more added more since the expert was now more confident in what this amount would do. The body scan was still in progress, so he could only bite his nails waiting. ¡°Odd?¡± SG proposed in a soft voice. She kept glancing around them in the new environment, part cautious part curious. She thought she understood ¡°clean and sterile¡± since she had moved in the dot, but this place was in a league of its own. ¡°Crazy?¡± Aran followed. The situation being more stable, she was free to examine her new additions and get used to the sensations. She had noticed balancing on the light road was easier and her tail easier to control. Longer too, unlike the rest of her body. Not by much, maybe the width of a closed hand, but it made a notable difference. She was done playing with her partly extendable claws and was currently rubbing the ebony fur on the back of her hands, enjoying its softness. ¡°Ludicrous.¡± Zax settled. ¡°The forums keep orienting me to the fiction category. Not that I can blame them, I wouldn¡¯t take myself seriously either.¡± ¡°What could they even tell you about nanites?¡± Aran threw a quick glance at him. ¡°I know.¡± He sighed, leaning back on his seat. ¡°But who else can I go to? And to be fair, I¡¯ve already found interesting perspectives and inspirations there. You never know.¡± Their turn with the diagnostician soon arrived ¨C no obvious mutations ¨C and they were let in the room. They explained the reason for their presence, and while her displeasure at the mention of nanites was plain on her face, she was professional enough to not comment on it. The doctor quickly but thoroughly examined Zax, but found nothing unusual. He was still a purestrain, and as healthy as a purestrain could be. She insisted on examining Aran too, since her activation was apparently the trigger. Maybe a mutation had given her taser-like traits. ¡°Unlikely.¡± Zax commented as his friend¡¯s turn came anyway. ¡°Her mutation didn¡¯t have related traits, the shock happened at the very beginning of the activation, and SG would¡¯ve been affected too. She was touching the two of us.¡± ¡°She is advanced enough to have some resistance or resilience.¡± The doctor countered the last argument. ¡°She doesn¡¯t. I checked.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have a better idea.¡± She admitted, ignoring the interruption. ¡°You¡¯re fine, the nanites are fine, that leaves only her.¡± Zax couldn¡¯t argue with such logic. ¡°If not her, whatever happened is outside my expertise. Besides, examining a fresh activation is never a bad idea. And who knows? You might have a surprise. Not every trait is immediately obvious.¡± She added, more to Aran. The three friends chuckled, amused at the idea of something escaping Zax¡¯s scan. Still, crossing references was never a bad idea, and it wouldn¡¯t cost more, materially. Both gave the same results. Besides the obvious, she was healthy, her tail could now produce a few pheromones, and she now beneficiated from a slight but notable metabolic enhancement and increase in her base stats. Meaning she was a bit stronger, faster, more agile and so on, her body used fuel more efficiently, produced less waste, and needed less work to maintain this new state or build up on it. ¡°Those are good results, congratulations. You must have a healthy lifestyle. Have you thought of your new job already?¡± The doctor asked naturally. ¡°Er, what?¡± Aran blinked. She hadn¡¯t. They hadn¡¯t. ¡°Apparently not.¡± She smiled. It was a fairly common reaction when one activated at this point in their life. ¡°With your new state of being come new possibilities. You might get new offers, and try your luck in a specific field. The choice is yours. Here, this flyer can help.¡± In a practiced move, she sent something from her bracelet to her patient¡¯s. ¡°It links to many sites and resources designed to help people in your situation. I¡¯m sure your friend had the same, but just in case.¡± She nodded to SG. Honest mistake, they didn¡¯t comment on it. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± Aran frowned, reluctant. ¡°I don¡¯t think you mutated enough to be invited in the Circle yet, don¡¯t worry.¡± Zax understood what was unsaid. The doctor was nonplussed at the statement, but her patient was appeased so she didn¡¯t pursue the matter. Done with the appointment, they left the healing centre. They still needed time to process everything, so they walked the first portion of the way. Zax used the opportunity to run a scan and a diagnostic of SG¡¯s nanites. Without the Z-Box, it required him to maintain direct contact with her body, so he grabbed her wing-wrist as they strolled. It had occurred to him when he had said it; she was touching them both when it had happened. She may have been affected, even if to a lesser extent. Or maybe her nanites had picked up on something. In any case, worth a check. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. It didn¡¯t reveal anything unusual about her body, her hardware or her software, but she had lost 8% of her initial nanite load. Way more than normal wear, but way less than a disruption field would destroy. Like Zax¡¯s and Aran¡¯s. She, or at least her nanites, had been touched without effect? A new riddle. Or a new hint, but not exactly explicit. Is the Resonance involved somehow? The only common point was inexplicably affecting all three of them. Tenuous, but it felt meaningful. Zax was pulled out of his musings by a new message. ¡°Uh. That went faster than expected.¡± ¡°Hmm? Something happened?¡± Aran asked. ¡°The detective from yesterday mailed me to come visit some victims of the recent string of sabotage. She said it would take a long time to prepare everything because of the lawyers doing lawyer things, so I¡¯m surprised to hear back from her already. If he didn¡¯t give up, maybe the Civilian smoothed things up?¡± ¡°Is that good?¡± ¡°I guess so?¡± he shrugged. ¡°For them at least, less time wasted. It doesn¡¯t change much for me.¡± ¡°Too bad they only pay with units.¡± Aran smirked. ¡°Har har.¡± Zax deadpanned as SG giggled. No templates for him, but the compensation was still a huge amount. ¡°Anyway, she gives a few options, but I think I¡¯ll just go with the first one: tomorrow. No point in dragging it. Would you be alright managing the shop on your own?¡± He turned to his apprentice, practically an assistant at this point. The winged girl nodded, with less hesitation than usual. It could nearly be called confidence, even. She had experience now. ¡°And you? What will you do? You just activated, so you¡¯re free for the day.¡± He reminded the foxy cat girl. ¡°Ah, right. ¡®The perks of the service industry¡¯. I forgot.¡± ¡°I advise to use it to think about what the doctor said.¡± Confused eyes blinked back. ¡°About your future? Even if you don¡¯t want or care about a new job, you can think about what you want to do. Further your mutation or not? It can clearly go further. You¡¯ve activated from emotional agitation, maybe work on the cause of that agitation? You¡¯ve decided to ¡®be both¡¯ ¨C not sure both what. Maybe ponder what it means, what it will entail, how to do it best? Solidify this choice, orient it, amend it?¡± She had been too caught up in the successive surprises to actually ponder about their impact. ¡°You passed an important step in life. No reason to keep stagnating.¡± Luckily, the rest of the day was uneventful. Aran¡¯s scan finished and confirmed the preliminary and medical results. The structure of her partly extendable claws was particularly interesting, even if they were still too short and soft to be more than cosmetic. Her fur was incomplete as she could sweat from those parts, but it wasn¡¯t unusual for low mutations. She did feel a difference in the day¡¯s free running session; the exercises were easier, less tiring. SG quickly put an end to any arrogance she might have felt by ramping the difficulty up. Both students still had a long way to go. The same couldn¡¯t be said of their nightly meditation, however. Once Zax¡¯s mind was tranquil enough, he focused on his body, as usual. His heartbeat. His breath. The minute shivers he couldn¡¯t help. The tension in his muscles. Something felt different. Something was different. Something more. Something new. It was tenuous, hard to focus on, but it was there. In his hands, his palms, his fingers, his nails. In his limbs. His head. His eyes. His torso. His lungs. His heart. His blood. His muscles. His bones. His nerves. His brain. Everywhere. It looked like veins and arteries, but it wasn¡¯t carrying anything and it didn¡¯t react to his pulse. It looked like nerves, but it didn¡¯t react to his thoughts and perceptions. It looked like a grating, but it didn¡¯t block or frame anything. He had never heard of something like it, but it felt familiar, somehow. It had always been there, barely out of sight, out of reach. He knew it for a fact, even if unable to explain how. It was not out of reach anymore. He could feel it now. Touch it. Move it? Just a small push, in a less stable part. It wouldn¡¯t do much, right? As in a trance, he reached with his will. He slid along the uniform pathway, not doing anything, until he reached a split in the road. He could do something there. A light pinch, and it would- The session was over. The audio guide they were using for meditation had run its course. Zax had woken up just before he could perform the pinch. He could have. He didn¡¯t know how he knew, he didn¡¯t know what it would do, but he knew he could have, and it would have done something. ¡°Not easier.¡± Aran lamented as she stretched. ¡°Oh, well. I improved a lot elsewhere.¡± ¡°No brain mutation.¡± SG correctly concluded. ¡°Heh, you¡¯re right, I¡¯m not sure I would¡¯ve like it. You okay, Zax?¡± ¡°Hmm? Fine, I¡¯m fine. Did it feel any different today?¡± ¡°Not really?¡± She shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m still exited and everything, so I couldn¡¯t go very far. It just felt, normal, I guess?¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± Listening with one ear, Zax was staring inside his hand. He used his HUD to help him visualise what he had felt. He couldn¡¯t get the details, they were too complex, but seeing electric blue approximation of veins forming in his forearm, through his clothes, made him realise why it had felt so familiar. The glowing meridians! A thought changed the colour of the assisted projection to glowing green, and the similarity was even more obvious. The hobbyist quickly bid good night to his friend and hurried to his bedroom-workshop. A quick search in his archives confirmed it: it was the glowing veins he had seen ad nauseam during his trip in the Core. The ones that only appeared during strong activations, and that looked a lot like acupuncture maps. Glad I woke up at that moment. In acupuncture, the smallest mistake could have cascading consequences anywhere in the body. Who could tell what would have happened if he had actually pinched? A lot, probably. Did that shock unlock something? It then dawned on him; he had actually been in trance. It had happened a few times, when directly interfacing with the main computer while emotionally shaken. He only noticed after the fact, it left no trace in the software, hardware, or wetware, and he couldn¡¯t do it on purpose. At this moment, he wasn¡¯t emotionally vulnerable, and as improved as his nanites had been by the swarm, they were still far from a quantic computer¡¯s prowess. He wasn¡¯t focusing on a specific problem either. He didn¡¯t know if he could to it again. Everything else was similar. Similar enough to compare, but different enough to count as a its own phenomenon. 3G. Activation. Meridians. Resonance. Trance. Even nanites. They were all related or interacting, but how? It should be impossible. Zax couldn¡¯t help the grin growing on his face. Chapter 78 - Investigation Zax had an agitated night, writhing from the questions twirling in his head. For better or worse, nothing happened. The day came, and for the first time in a long while, the three friends left on their own. Aran had used her mandatory rest day to laze about in the shop and follow Zax and the doctor¡¯s advice, but she wasn¡¯t closer to an answer. She had lived so long one day to the next, it had never dawned on her what a stable life meant. She could actually plan a future now. But how? She had sent an updated resume to answer a few jobs offers, just in case, but she didn¡¯t expect or anticipate much. SG went to the shop, on foot as using light road was so inconvenient. Recently, she had taken to eschew footwear, too. It only served to blend in, which didn¡¯t feel as important anymore. She was exactly where she wanted to be. Zax gathered the gear he had prepared and went to find Kamin at her station, in the Circle. The lawyers had yet another NDA and other papers for him to sign, and they were off to investigate. When the dotter asked the detective about the short delay, she could only assume the same thing he had: strings had been pulled. It made her uneasy; there was no free lunch in this world, but nobody had claimed it. ¡°As good as any other guess.¡± She shrugged when Zax mentioned the unnamed Civilian. She hadn¡¯t risked asking who he was. They took an Enforcer vehicle to the victim¡¯s office. On the way, Kamin explained what she could about them. It was a branch of a larger, cross-bubble pharmaceutical company, using this bubble mostly to spot and recruit talents. The office was close to the centre of the bubble, where rent was the highest, to show they were not small players. A common practice. Their main activity was the production of medicine made from mutations¡¯ byproducts. Mutated blood, sweat, milk ¡­ if there was something to make with anything, they would find it, refine it, and sell it. Rumour had it most of their raw material came from a single family. Some said this family had founded the company, others claimed they were prisoners milked and pressed for everything they had, day after day. Silly hearsay and baseless urban legends, not relevant to the case. But it was true they had started as a small family business, who had later joined the Arya Family famous for their more subtle mutations, and grown exponentially since. ¡°Arya Family, yes, their mutations focus mostly on body chemistry.¡± Zax recounted. It was the basics for a hobbyist. ¡°They leave little to no visible effect, but they are more about giving the tools to change instead of changing directly. Mutated adrenal gland, meaning altered hormones that make you stronger for longer, or make you fall in and out shock more easily. Mutated testosterone who makes gaining muscle ¨C and other things ¨C a breeze. Gives the illusion of a dud activation, then of a delayed mutation, but it really is an instant change that takes time to manifest.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know it worked like that.¡± The detective raised an eyebrow. ¡°So they need to work hard to activate, and then they need to keep working hard to gain something? Poor guys.¡± ¡°Everyone is like that; if you stop working, you stop improving. There are pros too.¡± Zax countered. ¡°Instant improvement usually means stagnation until the next activation. Arya-types can keep improving even if they never activate again. The stat boost is replaced by a growth boost, basically.¡± Aran got me too used to speaking in gaming terms. ¡°Possibly without cap, either.¡± They arrived on the site of the sabotages. The building was tall and blocky, like all others in the area. Many companies occupied it, some of which had been victims of the same mischief. Currently only one was and the investigators were only allowed to contact them. It still left them with one full floor to visit, in the middle of the building. They were greeted with pleasant professionalism and customer service smile, but their guide never gave them any name. Not even hers. Zax pulled his equipment, basically a customized scanner, and followed her to the different issues. She presented them in chronological order, for some reason. A lot of back-tracking was involved. Every office printer had their own issue, from mixing colours to randomly faxing to multiplying copies to giving copies of old documents. Snack and drink distributors, some with actual reconstituted food inside! In the dot, it would be an extravagant expense; here, it was a normal employee benefit, when it didn¡¯t throw its product to the employee¡¯s face. Showers, breakrooms, ceiling light. All with varied gravity, timing, or inconvenience. It really was everywhere, but no trace of nano-technology so far. Very little bio-technology too, for a large company in the Circle. The dotter was surprised but didn¡¯t comment on it. They discussed with a few employees; supplies manager, site manager, regular users, maintenance workers¡­ Varied amounts of cooperation, some colourful mutations and/or personalities, but none stood up. The position and frequence of the incidents weren¡¯t as random as advertised, however. Zax had mapped a model of the floor as he went, marking the affected devices, frequency and gravity of incidents, and whatever relevant information he could think of. Seeing everything at once, the issues seemed more frequent around specific points in the map. Not more severe or damaging, and some incidents didn¡¯t fit within the pattern, but it was worth investigating. The map showed them as empty spaces, so it was something he had missed or dismissed as unimportant. Some of those points seemed to overlap their area of effect, making them harder to pinpoint. It showed a limited range, though. Their distribution was irregular, but not random. Larger rooms, or those with more traffic, had several of those points, but not at the same time. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Good news?¡± Kamin asked when Zax stopped walking to tap away at nothing in front of him. She didn¡¯t have much hope; his scanner was a constant jumble for signals and he hadn¡¯t reacted to anything so far. ¡°Maybe.¡± The expert answered. ¡°Let¡¯s keep going.¡± He ordered when he was done. One more back-tracking and the existence of the points was confirmed. Not their content, however. ¡°What is usually here?¡± Zax asked their guide, pointing to an empty corner of the small break room they were currently in. A lighter circle in the floor showed the spot was usually not empty. Other rooms had similar marks. ¡°Hmm¡­ Not sure. A pine, I believe?¡± ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± An employee refilling their tea cup confirmed. ¡°Lasts longer than most. Smells pretty nice too.¡± ¡°Where is it now?¡± Zax continued. Kamin frowned, not understanding his insistence. ¡°It died yesterday, so we placed it with the others.¡± ¡°Ah, right.¡± The guide nodded as if it explained everything. ¡°Sorry? Died? The others?¡± The consultant was confused. It turned out, the Circle¡¯s offices insisted in having greenery and potted plants, but not in taking care of them. It was common practice to have them replaced when they died. Only hobbyists bothered taking care of them, and not every company could boast having one. Zax didn¡¯t need to be told to figure the supplier purposefully didn¡¯t give sturdy or mutated plants, to maintain demand. ¡°Bring me where you store them, please.¡± ¡°What does dead wood have to do with our sabotage?¡± The detective asked as they moved. ¡°The incidents are more frequent around certain places, which could hide a probe. A plant laced with nanites could do that. Protect them from disruptive fields. If that¡¯s the case, the dead wood should have remnants, at least.¡± The green disposal room, common to the whole building, was at the first basement level. It was larger and a lot more plants than Zax expected. Some were not even dead yet! Which wouldn¡¯t last, considering the room was not lit most of the time. The mix of smells was strangely distressing. The pots were simply put where there was room, so they couldn¡¯t tell which came from which company, but it didn¡¯t matter. Zax only needed a few seconds per plant to detect what he needed. The number and variety of plants meant he could be there a while though, with the detective and the guide stuck with him. It was tedious, but one hour later Zax found what he was looking for. ¡°Wow, for real?¡± Kamin and the guide were shocked. ¡°No doubt. Every flower in this pot is infused with nanites.¡± He pointed to a once colourful assortment among others in a shelf. ¡°Some still have a bit of energy, so I can tell they are fully infused, all throughout their bodies. Most likely, the water they were fed was laced, and the passengers were absorbed with it. Wasteful. Even if the soil has enough micro-organisms to dampen disruption fields ¨C not my expertise ¨C the load would just follow the water. No way those plants absorb it fast enough. That means many watering sessions, over a long period.¡± ¡°For what purpose?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. There¡¯s not enough left to rebuild their software or their orders. I can tell they are poorly made though.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°As far as nano-technology is concerned, those are huge. Like, humongous. Definitely not made with discretion in mind, a basic scanner would have picked them up, if they knew what to look for. Not medical applications either; I don¡¯t think the hosts would have survived a lot longer even if they had been taken care of.¡± ¡°I see.¡± The detective sorted the information in her head, making sense of the situation. ¡°Considering the chronology of incidents, I don¡¯t think the culprit has a specific goal either. They make do with what they can reach because they don¡¯t know what plant will go where, or what will be around it. There¡¯s never been more than two active points at once. It all fits.¡± She wordlessly acknowledged his conclusions. ¡°Now, will that be enough, or do you need me to find more probe plants?¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± The Enforcer was still thinking when their guide had an idea. ¡°Er, if I remember well, the new batch will arrive later today. Maybe you can talk to the delivery guy?¡± The visitors turned to her at once. How convenient. Zax passed time looking for new tampered plants. There were a few, but he didn¡¯t learn anything new. When the delivery vehicle arrived, Kamin apprehended the driver. His mutation was definitely centred around using a vehicle, but surprising fact; he had a pet with him. An authentic grey wolf, an adult of diminutive size. Maybe from a mutation, but beasts tended to get larger, not the opposite. The man didn¡¯t seem aware of the sabotage, he looked confused at the mention of nano-technology, and he didn¡¯t seem bothered at the suspicions thrown his way. No accusations yet, but Kamin asked him to come to the station with them for a more complete deposition. He agreed, but asked to finish his current job first, as he was paid by the completed order. He either didn¡¯t realise his situation, or he was an incredible actor. The detective had Zax examine the fresh batch, which immediately confirmed they all had at least a bit of nanites in them. Only a few had enough to make something out of it. Some had so much in the soil itself, the last infusion must have been extremely recent. As in, minutes ago. After the man¡¯s round had started. He paled, but didn¡¯t raise a fuss even as Kamin officially arrested him. The same couldn¡¯t be said of the wolf, but his owner calmed him down easily. Kamin called for backup to take care of the proofs while she left with Zax and the now official suspect. From his behaviour, Zax didn¡¯t think the man was the culprit, so he tried to appease him. He broke the ice by asking about the canine. This man apparently had social issues, not related to any mutation, and the furry critter was specially trained for emotional support. ¡°Original choice.¡± Zax stated. From what he had heard, dogs were more commonly used. ¡°Can I pet him?¡± The man exchanged a glance with his friend and nodded. The dotter received a notification as he brushed the fur between his finger: [ Connecting ] Chapter 79 - Plot Twist He totally fooled me. [ Connection established ] Zax managed to keep his face straight as his nanites connected to the unknown nanite network. His hand never stopped petting the grey fur of the unwitting carrier. It didn¡¯t take long; it was not protected. Probably didn¡¯t expect a foreign connection. The computer hidden in the canine wasn¡¯t particularly complex or powerful. An outdated operating system, running old nanite control programs. No antivirus, no firewall, not even a graphic interface. The most advanced piece was the neural interface software, which he recognized instantly: it was his. An old version, available for free, but still a surprise. There was not enough memory to make records, but the expert could see the current commands. It translated as: go to the root, seep in the statis living being, spread in, wait for further instructions. There was more to it, but it was too specific to translate. Custom made. He knows what he¡¯s doing. The hardware was low-quality, limiting the software it could handle and how much the host could take, but they had been set up in the most effective way possible. A skilled fellow, limited by available material and making the most of it. Zax wanted to call out to the man, revealing his trickery to the detective driving the vehicle, but something kept nagging in the back of his mind. Something obvious he was missing. He scanned the programs again. The feeling intensified. Scan again. Again. He kept coming back to the neural interface. Examining it in detail, it was indeed his old baby, to the minute detail. Not particularly versatile or intuitive, minimal HUD, but enough to get the job done. Wait, a HUD? Why would he give a HUD to the carrier? It only made sense for the user, the one giving the commands. Actually, the same was true for the whole neural interface; its purpose was to directly connect the brain and the nanites, bypassing the need for a bracelet or a keyboard and connector. A carrier only needed reception and transmission nodes, like the plants. The coder was too skilled to make such a mistake; it had to be on purpose. It was cleanly installed too, the beast would be able to think complex orders, they would be understood. With this ancient version of the software, it took a lot of trial and error, and not a short time. The wolf could give orders. Doubts crawled on Zax¡¯s back. Checking on the custom parts of the software confirmed his new suspicions: this wolf¡¯s neural patterns were complex. More than an animal¡¯s should be. Like a human¡¯s. No doubt about it. This four-legged critter had mutated into sapience. And he was the fellow nanite user. It changed things. Or did it? He pondered as he kept running his fingers against the culprit¡¯s fur. So much could go wrong. He had to ascertain the situation. Renouncing subtlety, the expert uninstalled the nanite control software from the wolf. He kept the neural interface and installed a chat so they could directly communicate. No doubt an alert went through the HUD, but there was nothing to do. The dotter¡¯s nanites and programs were simply too advanced. It was over in seconds. He didn¡¯t give his suspect another second to react: [ Zax: Greetings. ] [ Zax: Apologies for the intrusion. ] [ Zax: Congratulations, you totally fooled me, but my nanites detected yours. Your owner knows you¡¯re smart, but does he know you¡¯re sapient? ] The canine stood up on his owner¡¯s lap, his fur on end, losing his head as if something had exploded nearby. The deliveryman didn¡¯t understand, but hugged him and calmed him, rubbing his fur, using a soothing voice. The perfect behaviour to appease a frightened animal, according to media. Guess not. Once the wolf was calmed enough, Zax held his palm to him. The wolf¡¯s nanites only allowed connection from direct contact. It was in his best interest to converse, but the dotter wouldn¡¯t force the issue. The emotional support wolf stared at the offered hand, but eventually offered his head. The chat was a wall of backlogs. [ Migo: What? Who? Where? ] Did he subconsciously set a username? His neural coordination was impressive for the hardware he had. [ Migo: How? ] [ Migo: ## Emergency Diagnostic! ] [ Migo: What¡¯s- ] [ Migo: Where does that come from? ] [ Migo: What happened to #&# software? ] [ Migo: Is it you? ] [ Migo: Of course it¡¯s you. ] [ Migo: It¡¯s you isn¡¯t it? ] [ Migo: Answer me! ] [ Migo: ANSWER ME! ] [ Migo: ANSWER ME! ] [ Migo: TAKE THAT HAND OFF AND ANSWER ME BEFORE / TAKE IT OFF! ] [ Migo: Oh ] Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Zax skimmed to the end. [ Zax: Sorry for startling you. I didn¡¯t know what to make of what I found. ] [ Migo: ¡­ he doesn¡¯t know. ] [ Migo: Nobody does ] [ Migo: I¡¯m just a support ] [ Zax: I smell a story. Care to share it? ] No answer. [ Zax: Alright, I¡¯ll stay professional. Why did you attack all those companies? ] [ Migo: Training. And I didn¡¯t attack, it was just harmless pranks. They deserve worse ] [ Zax: Not helping your case. Plus, that was way too much resources, time, and effort for that. ] [ Migo: I have a lot of free time and nothing better to do ] [ Zax: Your escalation pattern doesn¡¯t fit either. You¡¯re targeting bigger and bigger companies, but the incidents didn¡¯t grow with them. I think you have a specific target in mind. You are actually training, but for something more specific than self improvement. ] [¡­] [ Zax: And you won¡¯t stop at pranks when you reach them. ] [¡­] [ Zax: What is it you want? Power? Attention? Revenge? ] [¡­] The wolf stayed silent, but his muscles tensed under the petting fingers. [ Zax: Revenge it is. ] The dotter was at a loss. At least there actually was a motive behind the attacks. Should he tell the detective he had found the culprit? The obvious answer was yes. But the situation wasn¡¯t that simple, was it? Prisons weren¡¯t made for quadrupeds, but arrangements could be made. Revenge wasn¡¯t a healthy motivation, but he hadn¡¯t done anything to warrant a severe punishment. Nobody was hurt, not even the company; the target changed when they started being financially affected. But he wouldn¡¯t stop there; he was too invested. Besides, the punishment would be severe, no doubt about it. Large companies had been targeted, and the Circle¡¯s system was corrupted like it was not a crime. On the other hand, his contract required to supply his nano-technology expertise in regards to the ongoing investigation. He had done that, with greater results than anybody expected. He didn¡¯t have to do more. If the delivery guy was innocent, it would be easy enough to prove. Same for his colleagues. The enforcer could have him go and check in their offices, but it would be dishonest to be paid to look for an answer he already had. He could just give them his scanner and a manual, though. Or sell it, it could be useful in other ways. [ Migo: Will you tell them? About me? ] The chat interrupted his reflexions. The wannabe prankster was not as unruffled as he tried to appear. [ Zax: I don¡¯t know. ] He answered honestly. [ Are you going to continue? ] He had an inkling, but free will demanded he verified. [ Migo: I don¡¯t know. I never expected to meet another nanite user. Especially one so ] [ Migo: skilled ] [ Zax: Legally, I don¡¯t have to. I did what I was paid for. But morally? I just don¡¯t know if it would do more good than bad. You don¡¯t seem like a bad person, ] [ Zax: It would irrevocably change your relationships. ] [ Zax: I don¡¯t know how the Circle handles mutations into sapience. ] [ Migo: We get all of a Resident¡¯s duties, and none of their rights or support ] For some reason, Zax felt a strong bitterness in the laconic reply. Maybe the subconsciously barred teeth. To their credit, the delivery guy noticed his companion¡¯s distress and hugged him, mistaking it for a general stress reaction. He unwittingly broke the connection before the dotter could seek clarification, but it demonstrated the truth of their bond. When Zax commented it aloud, it triggered a long-winded rundown of their history. They were not each other¡¯s first relation. Mister had lost the emotional support companion he had grown up with to old age. They had seen it coming, but it hurt regardless. Wolfie was originally a companion to an autistic boy, but late mutations had fixed the issues related to his condition. Not needing a friendly bumper against the world anymore, man and wolf had drifted apart. Painful, in a more bittersweet way. They had found each other, and made each other whole since. Zax wasn¡¯t sure about the last part, but the man was indubitably genuine. He loved his emotional support pet like he was family. When the story got repetitive, the dotter half listened and focused back on his next course of action, until they arrived in the station¡¯s garage. ¡°We were sent to a spot far from the public area.¡± Kamin stated when they left the vehicle. ¡°Someone important must be visiting, and they want to avoid disruptions.¡± She added, glaring a warning towards the troublesome consultant. ¡°Good guess, but not quite.¡± A new voice spoke from behind a pillar. A smoking canister was thrown at their feet. No, not a canister. A seed pod? The dotter had never seen one before, but it was similar to the go-to widget in most child shows. Made from any type of mutated plants, there was a variety to do anything, from paintball to flamethrower. Oh, Migo fell asleep. The travel must¡¯ve exhausted him. What a pleasant idea. A nap felt seductive right now. Why was¡­ the detective¡­ screaming? Walls¡­ twisting¡­ The dotter was unconscious before feeling the ground on his face. *** Zax woke up to a splitting headache, a parched throat, and a body sore all over. Moving and opening his eyes only brought pain, so he immediately stopped trying. Faint noises came from somewhere, but he couldn¡¯t identify them. Urgh. What happened? Where am- [ Accessing sensory recordings ] Oh, forgot I installed that. The dotter sighed and forced his body to relax as his nanites showed what his senses had picked up while he was passed out. Disorienting, but manageable if he didn¡¯t try to move. Fortunately, drug-induced sleep was dreamless, so the readings should be clean. (Kamin) Alert! Enemy attack! (sound) Pop. Roll. Psssss. The seedpod releasing gas. He remembered that part. Points for the detective, she noticed the danger right away. (sound) Bam. Bam Bam. Bam. Four soft things falling. Our bodies, dropping on the ground. Ouch. Note to self: filter pain sensation for future the recording. Voice 1: It¡¯s done. Hurry. Voice 2: Good stuff. Which ones? The client only paid for the consultant. Voice 3: And the detective as bonus, but we don¡¯t have time to check who¡¯s who. Take them all. Voice 2: The dog too? Voice 3: Yes. No traces. We¡¯ll sell the excess. (Touch) large, warm hands handling his body (proprioception) laid straight (Sound) echoing clicks (Touch) hard flat surface all around, soft something on top. Laid in a small coffin-like box, with another body on top of me. Tall, I can¡¯t feel hairs, heavy on the legs, the delivery guy? Time passes. Lots of muffled noises. Centrifuge force and momentum pushing him. The box is being moved around. Nothing identifiable. < Reading speed ++ > Zax fast-forwarded the recording until something changed. His unwilling roommate steered. He panicked, screamed, tried to struggle but could barely move. (Sound) Click Box opened. (Touch) Something lifted from his body Driver: What are- What¡¯s going on? Who are you? Where are we? Voice 2: Shut up. (Sound) Slap Voice 2: We don¡¯t need you, so don¡¯t be trouble. (Driver: What!? What are you talking about? Where¡¯s Migo?! Who are you people!? He¡¯s getting angry and more agitated. Voice 3: Someone¡¯s coming. Shut him up, quick (Sound) Slash Splash Bam Driver: Urg (pained moan) (Touch) Warm liquid splashed on his face Voice 2: Not like that you moron! What if he''s the target?! Hurry- (Sound) Click Did they¡­ He¡­