NanoSymbionts

by Joseph Philbrook

  The overhead foliage of the outermost trees, however, angled downwards until it touched the ground at the front and back borders of the tree cluster.

  Except for one area, just a little to one side of the center and about two thirds of the way towards the rear of the open area. Where the overhead branches angled down to less than four feet from the ground. At which point they wound around a few different looking tree trunks in a manner resembling a vines clinging grip. Some of the outer trees were also further away from the center than others. This, combined with the low ceiling around the few non-daggerthorn trees resulted in some semiprivate alcove like spaces, some of which had pillows and blankets in them. Sam also noticed that there were a few odds and ends of furniture scattered around central area.

  “This camp must get used quite a bit,” Sam commented. “Judging from the furnishings.”

  “Nah not really,” Steve cheerfully explained. “We only get up this way once every two or three months.” Then he noticed the puzzled look on Sam's face. “You see these daggerthorn trees are so good at scavenging moisture from the air, that nary a drop makes it through the branches. And there ain't many bugs as can stand the smell of all these daggerthorn needles scattered about the place.”

  As Steve said that, Jake walked over to a small wooden provisions cabinet. He picked up one of the few freshly fallen needles that had landed on top of it. Then he looked at the leather straps that served as hinges, as he brushed the few remaining needles off the cabinet. Then he peeked inside and noted that the contents consisted of a few jars of preserves, a sack of some course flour, and a couple of cast iron pans.

  “You've noticed, haven't you Sam,” Jake said. “That they take care not to let any of the fallen needles collect on anything made of metal?”

  “Well I'd have expected that at least,” Sam replied. “The database did mention that some catalyst in the needles turns the remains of the sap corrosive, when exposed to most metals for more than a couple of days. And I'm not so surprised as Steve here probably thinks I'd be, that wood and cloth don't trigger the same reaction.” Sam noticed Jake smile and assume a facial expression that he'd learned to recognize during the shuttle flight to Slowlane. So he quickly continued speaking before Jake could open his mouth. “Actually I'm just surprised that nobody messes with this stuff. I mean aside from the fact that somebody could carefully lift up a few thornpods, that door didn't have anything like a lock on it.”

  “Now I don't know what people are like out where you come from Sam,” Tom cut in sternly. “But here on Slowlane, we don't have many thieves. Oh I expect the prices some merchants will charge you if they think you don't have a choice about buying something, might seem like robbery right enough. But that's still not reaching out and taking somebody else's stuff.”

  “Besides Sam,” Sue added. “While I expect you were just talking about the way a stray traveler would feel free to use up our supplies if he came across our camp. There aren't very many of those who would think to look up here to find it. So our stuff is pretty safe.”

  “Harrumph,” Jake cleared his throat before beginning the explanation that Sam had been expecting. “I think I can shed a little light on what happens when these needles fall on anything metallic.” Then after noticing that he had everyone's attention, Jake explained.

  “You see, I've sent a few microscopic nano-pods into the cellular structure of a few of these trees, Jake said. As well as both the moist freshly fallen needles and the dry ones under foot. And while the moist nearly dead needles are almost as inert as the dry needles that slowly break down into a kind of soil that no other kind of plant can grow in. There is a catalyst that can cause the moist ones to ooze with a strong corrosive. That catalyst is actually a very specific compound that only has one natural source. And that is what the freshly dropped needles rapidly become if they in turn are exposed to another special catalytic agent that the daggerthorn tree sometimes injects into the still living needles just before they begin to fall off the tree. The fact that this only happens when a significant quantity of the existing moist dying needles build up on top of something metallic is significant. These coordinated changes in the daggerthorn's internal chemistry are why I say that these daggerthorn are closer to being sentient than any other plant in the guild's database.”

  “Sentient?” Sue incredulously interrupted as Jake paused for a moment. “Now I'll admit that the way these daggerthorns react to someone digging around their roots by suddenly sprouting thorn shoots all over the place, is somewhat provocative. But it's no more an indication of sentience than the fly catching ability of certain carnivorous plants.”

  “True enough,” Jake recaptured command of the discussion. “That behavior could be a simple response to an external trigger. But the daggerthorn tree has to reach out with a little bit more awareness to realize that something metallic is preventing the microbes in the otherwise dead moist needles from returning to the soil. Thus it's more than a simple reaction to an external trigger, when it selectively fills dying needles with a catalyst that can only react with the fresh biological traces of those microbes when there are a significant quantity of them that haven't reacted to yet another specialized catalyst in the the fully dry needles.”

  “There's something else about them that I can't figure out,” Jess interjected. “It seems to me that the daggerthorn practically invites people to shelter under it's canopy.” He gestured at the large open area around them. “What with all this cozy warm open space and all.”

  “There's another reason to suspect some form of intelligence,” Jake added. “You may have noticed how it nurtures the pear and oak trees over there. You may also have noticed that a variant of a red squirrel has adapted it's nesting habits to live in the daggerthorn branches. Where very few of it's natural predators can reach it. According to my data base, that particular squirrel has also developed a taste for the one type of caterpillar that managed to develop an immunity to the toxins in the daggerthorn's needles.

  Anyway, I believe the reason the daggerthorn clusters like this one, like to cultivate a few specimens of certain fruit and nut trees is part of the symbiotic relationship it developed with the squirrels. Which are attracted to the fruit and nuts. That is symbiotic behavior. As it happens, I believe that the daggerthorn is also trying to develop a symbiotic relationship with the one species advanced enough to control the daggerthorn's chances of long term survival.

  Unless I'm mistaken, daggerthorn clusters used to only consist of fewer trees per cluster. And generally had lower ‘ceilings’ until sometime after people started camping out under them.” Jake shook his head. “No, about the only reason it's not obvious that these trees are thinking beings is because they don't have a centralized nervous system. So what intelligence they have, appears to be some kind of slow thinking gestalt.”

  Jake fell silent when he realized that none of the locals were willing to consider the possibility of a sentient plant. Especially not one that developed on their terraformed planet. That's when Ellen's voice carried through the dense foliage from outside.

  “Excuse me Sue,” she said. “Our supply of firewood is limited at the moment so before I light a cookfire I need to know if one of the boys is going to go hunting or if I'm working with the smoked meat?”

  “I'll send Tom out Ellen,” Sue quickly replied. “But it'll be dark soon so I can't promise he will catch anything worth eating.”

  “Actually if Tom and Jess here, were to forage for some firewood,” Jake interjected. “I'll see if I can't bag something edible. After all, I don't need the light of day to find them.”

  “OK,” Sue agreed. “We can do it that way. And while your gone, if Sam wouldn't mind fetching some water for Ellen's cook pots and maybe refilling the canteens, I'll bet Mary wouldn't mind giving Steve and I a hand tending to the horses.”

  Jess and Tom left to find some good firewood. Jess heard Tom grumbling to himself about camp life in general and decided to see if he could break the ma
n out of his mood. He tried casual conversation first but eventually he resorted to challenging the man to a wood gathering contest.

  “Tell you what,” Jess said. “Since you find this task so distasteful, why don't you just sit your butt down and leave it all up to me?”

  Tom didn't like gathering firewood any more than any other aspect of living on the trail. However, as Jess had astutely perceived, he was far too proud a ranch hand to like the idea of being outdone by an outworlder. Before long each had carried several large armfuls of firewood back to camp. Eventually Sue noticed the size of the two huge piles of wood they had made and called a halt to the proceedings.

  “That's already more than we need boys,” she said. “I think it's time you two called it a draw and broke that wood up into campfire sized pieces. Then stack them according to size a little nearer to the campfire ring. No sooner had they done so, then Jake returned carrying the carcasses of four large rabbits. Ellen quickly examined them.

  “Thank you Jake,” she said. “Since we're here at the daggerthorn camp, I've got a nice roasting rack and the fixings for a good batter. I've also still got a loaf of bread left and plenty of those garden vegetables I packed.”

  It was rather dark by the time they finished eating. Steve drew the first watch while the rest of them retired to the inside of the daggerthorn. Where Sam thought it was surprisingly warm and cozy. Jess, Mary, Ellen and Tom, had all spread their bedrolls in one of the larger ‘alcoves’. The plan was that when it was time for Tom to take over the ‘watch’, Steve would climb into Tom's spot. Jake had also been invited.

  “Actually I'd love to join you for a while. But I'm going to want to spend some time thinking tonight. So I'm going to put my bedroll over there.” Jake had said, indicating with a gesture the far end of the tree cluster where there were a few small ‘alcove’ spaces. That were as far as possible from where the others had planned to cuddle. Almost as far but in the opposite direction, Sam and Sue were already cuddling, kissing, and slowly working themselves into a frenzy of desire, in a medium sized ‘alcove’.

  When Jake eventually excused himself from the others, he carried no light but depended on his nanite enhanced senses to find his way to the ‘alcove’ where his pack and bedroll was. He walked so quietly that the little red squirrel that was investigating his pack, never heard his approach. Jake didn't instruct his nanites to emit calming nano-pheromones until the moment his hand gently closed on it's body. As the squirrels heart rate slowed back down, Jake reached into the pack and withdrew the small paper wrapped packet of peanuts he had pocketed during the early part of their flight from Wildland.

  He carefully opened the packet and made sure that the captive squirrel saw him pour out half it's contents on top of the bedroll he had just sat down on. Then while the squirrel watched he poured the rest of the peanuts into his mouth. When he was sure that his nano-pheromones had insured the critter's desire for the little pile of peanuts, was greater than it's remaining fear of him, Jake put it down next to the pile of nuts and slowly reclined. Then as he lay still he commanded his nanites to stop producing the nano-pheromones. The squirrel watched him for a few seconds. Then it started to stuff it's cheeks with peanuts. By the time it had secreted the last nut the effects of the nano-pheromones had faded. However even as the squirrel's heart rate had begun to rise, Jake's nanites reported that some other external influence had begun calming the rodent back down.

  The Squirrel slowly climbed up the ‘alcove's’ tree trunk and soon found a spot to watch Jake from the branches that were over his head. Then the squirrel slowly wedged the peanuts into a couple of tight spots between the branches. Next it began to actually eat the peanuts one at a time. All the while calmly watching Jake as he slowly settled down to sleep.

  Jake had planned on dozing lightly for about half an hour. Which would be more than enough sleep for his nanite enhanced metabolism. However he gradually fell into a deep slumber. Then the dreams began. In his dreams he was vaguely aware of his surroundings, though it didn't appear to be with his own senses. He could sense where his companions were and was strangely aware of the emotions that flowed through their minds. Jess, Tom and the girls had by this time fallen asleep. A fact that Jake was dimly aware of as he felt the lust that filled their dreams.

  He also felt the beginnings of a deeper, less rational emotion flowing through the minds of both Sam and Sue. They too were sleeping, though they were still tightly wrapped around each other. In his dream state, Jake faintly felt Steve's impatience from outside the tree cluster as he waited for his watch to end. Jake felt his connection to Steve's emotions get stronger when he came inside to swap places with Tom. Then he felt Steve's lust double as it turned out that Mary was the first of the girls to respond to his touch. Jake felt his connection with Tom fade as he went outside. Though not so faded as to miss Toms distaste for camping outdoors surge to the foreground of his thoughts as he left the shelter for the chilly mountain air outside.

  Jake's dreams lasted until his unexpectedly deep slumber faded, which was right after he felt Tom's presence as he entered the tree shelter to begin waking people to meet the new day. He felt both refreshed and yet somehow drained as he crawled out of his bedroll. As he gathered his things, Jake noticed that the squirrel was gone but right beside his pack he found a small pile of acorns. After a moment's hesitation he tucked most of them in his pack, but kept one acorn out. On impulse Jake cracked open the acorn and popped the nutmeat into his mouth. He knew that acorns usually tasted bitter. This one was no exception. Yet he found that he enjoyed it's flavor at least as much as he had enjoyed the peanuts last night.

  As Jake went outside to see about a proper breakfast, he made up his mind that these daggerthorn trees should be more closely studied. He certainly had no intention of trying to explain that to his skeptical companions however.

  “I'm glad you boys gathered more firewood than we needed last night,” Sue commented while they were eating. “There won't be anything worth gathering at our next campsite. So I'd appreciate it if everyone would make room for some of it in your packs.”

  “Surely we won't need all of this,” Steve complained. “We won't be in the badlands for more than one night after all.”

  While Steve loved the outdoors life, he never liked packing up more than he was sure to need.

  “Now Steve,” Tom reminded his younger coworker. “You know Sue likes to leave some extra firewood at the badlands camp. You never know when we might need it after all.”

  “Even so Tom,” Ellen chided. “You and Jess here did gather so much wood that we'd need another pack horse or two to bring all of it with us. Whatever got into you two?” Jess and Tom just exchanged glances and chuckled.

  They spent most of the day riding up a long and often treacherous trail as it wound it's way around or more often over, more than a few hills. Each hill being a little taller than the one before. As they gained altitude, the forest gradually changed to a dry rocky terrain. At least it appeared to usually be dry. A fact that would be hard to prove under the current weather conditions. It had started raining shortly after the one brief halt that Sue had allowed them.

  It had quickly become a downpour. With an accompanying wind that at times gusted to the point where the rain was almost falling horizontally. The trees had also gradually given way to a sparse collection of bushes. The wind was finally fading away, as the sun began to set, when they reached the next campsite. Aside from the cave entrance, there wasn't much to look at.

  There was an old painted cast iron pump with a wooden troth next to a few wooden hitching posts. That were located in front of an huge semi-rectangular slab of rock. Which was sitting on top of a collection of boulders. This provided a cavelike shelter that was open on two sides. One side of the slab was buried against of the exposed rocky ledge on the side of a large hill. The slab rested on some boulders. The largest of which provided a supporting wall adjacent to the side that was buried in the hillside.

  At some
point a small landslide had covered the back edge of the slab and one end of the large supporting boulder with rubble. One corner of the slab rested on a boulder that was smaller but taller than the big one that served as one of the back walls of the shelter. The slab tilted down towards the large boulder wall and was wedged at an angle into the side of the hill. There were several smaller boulders scattered underneath the slab providing it with enough support to stabilize the structure. There was enough headroom under the outer half of the slab for most men to to walk without having to duck their heads. There was even enough room at the outermost edge for the horses to take some shelter from the weather. The headroom was gradually reduced towards the back corner of the slab, where there was considerably less headroom. It was at this lowest point of the shelter that the entrance to an actual cave began.

  Someone had cleared out the small stones and other rubble from the floor of the shelter and spread out some soft dry sand. The shelter would shield them from rain and some of the wind. Just inside the shelter, against the side of the tall boulder, there was a fireplace with an iron grill for cooking but there wasn't any firewood besides that which they had packed and the rain had gotten to that, along with the tender, kindling and matches. This would make it difficult to start a campfire. Steve did his best to set it up but the first several matches proved to be too damp. So he produced a piece of flint.

  “I don't suppose anyone has a scrap of cloth or paper that's still dry enough to make this worth my time?” Steve asked.