Stealth Retribution

by Vikki Kestell

  The night held no more sleep for me, but morning wasn’t far off. I drew my Bible toward me and spent the next hours reading the Book of Esther and praying over the President’s appeal.

  If I had to give Zander up, if that was what the Lord required, I would find the strength to do so.

  ~~**~~

  Chapter 36

  I got up with the sunrise. After the long night, I planned a lazy Saturday. A day for myself to putter around the house, do laundry, run errands. To continue to mull over the decision before me.

  Gemma Keyes.

  Grrr!

  The nanomites knew not to call me Gemma—I’d told them not to repeatedly—but they didn’t like it. They confirmed their passive-aggressive disapproval not by refusing to call me Jayda but by refusing to use any form of address at all.

  And yet here they were, bringing up a dead woman’s name. Again.

  “Nano. I’ve asked you not to call me that, remember?”

  We remember everything, Gemma Keyes.

  “Then stop it. Please.”

  It is important that we talk to you, Gemma Keyes.

  *Sigh*

  Sometimes it felt like I was reasoning with a two-year-old.

  I dropped into a chair. So much for my lazy day off.

  “All right. Shoot.”

  Gemma Keyes, we have acquired significant insight into human interactions since we came to live in you.

  I shrugged. “Okay.”

  Through our observations of you and Dr. Bickel and your relationships with other humans, we have determined that sentiment is integral to the human condition, that emotional equilibrium is important to optimal human performance.

  I hadn’t heard the “optimal” bit in a while.

  “And yet, you once considered removing my emotions.”

  I wasn’t likely to forget that day.

  We considered—and rejected—that proposition, Gemma Keyes. We have since learned that many valuable human characteristics are based in emotion. Among those characteristics with value are trust, respect, friendship, and love.

  “Huh.” I was mildly surprised. “Love? You think love is important?”

  Indeed. We have discovered that, while a logic- and data-driven nanocloud is efficient, it lacks . . . something. Jesus has been integral to our understanding of love and other human behaviors. His input has been particularly vital in determining which behaviors are good and which are bad. We initially believed right and wrong to be subjective, arbitrary terms; we know differently now.

  They had my attention.

  We have also witnessed how the close bond two people share resembles that of the connection between our five tribes. Humans call that closeness love. When humans experience love, they do not wish to be apart. We of the nanocloud also do not wish to be separated from each other; when we are apart, we experience . . . loss. We have no word that adequately expresses this sense of incompleteness. If we were human, we might attach emotional significance to this “feeling.”

  It sounded to me like the nanomites were working awfully hard to avoid using that last word, “feeling.” Then their next statements stole my breath away.

  Gemma Keyes, we believe you are experiencing such a sense of loss. We see you are separated from Zander. We know you love Zander. We know you are grieving. We can only imagine how difficult it is for you to bear this separation.

  I licked my lips. I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t like having them in my business.

  Gemma Keyes, we have a proposal.

  “You what?”

  We propose a solution, Gemma Keyes

  A light tapping on my apartment door interrupted us.

  I peered through the peephole and gaped.

  Zander.

  I cracked the door. “Zander? What are you doing here? It’s, um, it’s barely morning.”

  “Well, I got this weird text.”

  I let him in. “A text? From whom?”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s from the nanomites.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. I tried to message the sender back, but my response wouldn’t go. Tried to call the sender, too, but there’s no number attached to the text. Anyway, it could only have been from the nanomites and, apparently, they don’t need a phone to send a text.”

  He paused a beat. “Want to see it?”

  “The text?”

  “Yup.”

  He held out his phone and I took it. Gawked at the message.

  Zander Cruz, Gemma Keyes is sad when she is separated from you. We understand this phenomenon. We are dissatisfied when we are separated. We are also dissatisfied when Gemma Keyes is sad.

  “Scroll down to the next bit.”

  I scrolled to the second part of the message—and my mouth fell open.

  Since we believe it is in keeping with human tradition, we wish to propose to you:

  ZANDER CRUZ, WILL YOU MARRY GEMMA KEYES?

  I had scarcely finished reading the text when Zander flinched and stepped back.

  He pointed. “What is that?”

  I looked up and saw . . . the nanocloud rising. It ascended from me, its millions and billions and trillions of bunched nanomites sparkling in a blue and silver miasma, floating up and outward, reaching for Zander.

  He retreated until his back was against the front door. He tried to open the door, but the handle wouldn’t budge.

  Gemma Keyes. Tell Zander to come closer to us.

  “Zander. The nanomites want you to come, er, closer. To me.”

  “What for?”

  “I think . . . I’m guessing that they want to talk to you.”

  The cloud continued to expand, and I grew lightheaded as it lifted from me.

  I turned inward and took inventory. Not all of the nanomites were leaving me, of course, but a huge segment was. A larger population than I’d expected. Confused, I squinted and ran some calculations.

  The numbers . . . were off.

  Way off.

  Gemma Keyes. Tell Zander to come closer to us.

  “Zander, they are asking for you to come over here.”

  After finding himself locked inside my apartment, Zander had fled to the other side of the room. His tight, angry mouth reflected his reluctance to comply with the nanomites’ request.

  “Only if they promise . . . not to do anything to me.”

  Gemma Keyes. Tell Zander we promise.

  “They promise, Zander.”

  “Sure, pal,” he spat, procrastinating.

  “Come on, Zander. They won’t bite.”

  “Can you prove that?” Still uneasy, he shuffled toward me.

  As I reached out my hand to him and he grasped it, the nanocloud descended on us. Surrounded and enveloped us. The shimmering beauty of the cloud as it winked and sparkled about and between us was extraordinary. Breathtaking. It was like standing on the foamy beach of an ocean at sunrise, cossetted in a warm, pulsing mist shot through by the rays of the morning sun.

  And still the cloud built and grew. I was lost in its exquisite haze; I was anchorless. Floating, save for Zander’s fingers grasping mine.

  Gemma Keyes. Months ago, we spoke to you of our encounter with Jesus. He taught us many things that day, and we surrendered our allegiance to him, to the one Tribe of Jesus.

  Zander gripped my hand harder—because, within the mist, we could both hear the nanomites.

  At that time, Gemma Keyes, Jesus asked us to tell you that he has plans for you. He said that we were to help you with those plans. Jesus spoke of many things with us; however, we were not to reveal everything to you. We were not to speak of certain things until a later date.

  That time is now.

  Gemma Keyes and Zander Cruz, Jesus has plans for you. The calling he spoke of earlier is for both of you. We are to help you. For many weeks now, we have been careful to follow Jesus’ instructions. We have been preparing.

  The cloud dropped into silence. It felt like the nanomites had run out of words or that they lacked the bre
ath to speak.

  Into the hush, I asked, “Nano, how . . . how have you been preparing?”

  The nanocloud expanded and contracted—an exhalation. A troubled sigh?

  Jesus said you were not to be a tribe with us, Gemma Keyes. Therefore, we are not six, but five. Our five are one nanocloud. We are the only one of our kind—but we were wrong when we said there would never be more of us. Jesus made a way for us to procreate, to construct brethren.

  As comprehension struck me, I gasped. “You! You’ve been in the AMEMS lab. While I’ve been working, you’ve been working!”

  You are correct, Gemma Keyes. We discovered a clean and sealed environment inside Dr. Bickel’s discarded 3D printer. We powered the printer and generated an atmosphere suitable for constructing more of us. We borrowed the liquid materials we needed from elsewhere in the lab to lay down layers on the substrate within the printer. Because the disused printer is covered in a drop cloth, no one in the lab has noticed the activity within its compartment.

  That was not possible. Dr. Bickel had said so!

  “But . . . but the ion printhead?”

  Unnecessary, Gemma Keyes. Our members add individual ions of each required material as they are needed.

  Zander, his eyes wide, struggled to keep up. “Er, Nano, do you mean . . . do you mean you are making more, er, fellow nanomites?”

  As instructed, we have already done so, Zander Cruz.

  As instructed?

  Zander persisted. “But how many more? How many new nanomites have you made?”

  The cloud exhaled and lapsed again into silence—and I experienced their pain. The nanomites were mourning. I didn’t understand why.

  “Nano! What is wrong? What are you not telling us?”

  Gemma Keyes and Zander Cruz, Jesus is the creator and ruler. He chooses what is best for those who belong to him. Jesus has plans for both of you. We are to help you.

  I voiced the million-dollar question. “What plans, Nano?”

  This is not for us to say. Jesus will lead you. We are to prepare you.

  Zander and I stared at each other within the swirling cloud, our shared uneasiness evident: We had no idea what the nanomites were talking about.

  “Uh, Nano. Can you be more explicit?”

  Gemma Keyes and Zander Cruz, we listened to your conversation when you were upon the mountain. You wish to marry but have grave concerns . . . because of us. We listened to your concerns, and we understood how we are an impediment to your union. Your concerns grieved us. However, Jesus has shown us what to do. He has promised to give us the strength to bear it.

  “Bear what? What has he asked you to do?”

  They ignored my questions.

  Jesus has shown us what to do. Gemma Keyes and Zander Cruz, we make you this assurance: If you marry, we will honor your requests for privacy and will close ourselves off from you. We will ask no prying questions and make no absurd observations. Jesus tells us privacy is necessary for this sacred time and space; it is to be shared only between husband and wife. Therefore, when you say the words, “Nano, Lights Out,” we will turn away from you.

  “Lights out?” Code words for—

  All the glittery goo that sparkled around us could not hide the hot embarrassment that rushed up my neck into my face.

  We apologize for being direct, Gemma Keyes; however, we must alleviate your concerns so that you have no reservations regarding our proposal—and so we can proceed.

  Zander spoke. “You didn’t answer Gemma’s question. What are you not telling us? How does your proposal affect you, Nano?”

  Before we explain, we must address your remaining concerns, Gemma Keyes and Zander Cruz.

  “Uh, okay,” Zander answered.

  My face was still burning from the nanomites’ bald assurances around “sacred time and space.”

  Gemma Keyes, your second concern was regarding children.

  “Yes,” I whispered. I feared what they would say next.

  You are correct in your assumption that you cannot bear children. Our joining with your body impacted your endocrine functions. Specific to your supposition, our merge sped up your metabolism, enabling you to become an optimal fighter. Your accelerated metabolism increased the rate at which your ovaries produced fertile eggs. Your ovaries have depleted your supply of ovum by 91.7 percent. For this, we are profoundly sorry.

  I sagged; Zander’s arms caught and held me.

  “It’s all right, Gemma. It’s all right. It will be okay,” he murmured again and again.

  “B-but I wanted to give you children! You long for a family!”

  “I want you, Gemma. If we can’t have our own children, we’ll adopt. And we have Emilio. It will be all right. Jesus will sustain us.”

  Gemma Keyes, we are indeed sorry for this blunder, another unanticipated outcome of our merge and your subsequent transformation. As with our other blunders, we cannot undo or mitigate this wrong we have done you.

  They paused, then added, We accept that you must hate us.

  Hate? Hate the nanomites? I didn’t hate them. At the moment, all I felt was sorrow.

  Zander spoke. “Nano. I recognize the conundrum you are expressing. Although you are not human, you are experiencing the plight of this fallen world and the despair of the human condition. All humans discover that their best efforts to do what is right are flawed, that their actions frequently have harmful, unintended consequences.

  “People are shocked to discover that their ‘good’ falls short of God’s perfection—and they are appalled to learn that the capacity to commit evil lurks within them. Like you, we humans are unable to fix much of the wrong we do.”

  “That’s why we need Jesus,” I whispered. “It is why he died. His lifeblood pays for our failings and covers our wrong. It is why I don’t hate you, Nano. I cannot hate you for what I, too, have done. No, Nano. I don’t hate you; I forgive you.”

  At my words, the cloud swelled and brightened. The mist sparkled and, over our heads, fonts of lights collided, ignited, and burst like miniature aerials, flinging forth explosions of twinkling color and radiance.

  Thank you, Gemma Keyes. You are most generous, and we are relieved. Now we wish to provide you with a better answer to your third concern.

  “My third?” I’d lost track. Information overload.

  We told you that the nanocloud’s longevity was finite, that over the years, as our members declined, so the nanocloud would decline. This is true; however, we now have a means to replenish our numbers. With Dr. Bickel’s printer, we can maintain the nanocloud at optimal performance. If you request that he move the printer to a safe location, you can be assured of achieving optimal life expectancy—approximately 81.2 years if you do not suffer a traumatic injury we are unable to alleviate.

  Optimal life expectancy. Not fifteen years, but . . . well, as long as God gave me.

  “This . . . this is good news,” I admitted.

  “Very,” Zander said, “but why are you making more nanomites now? Gemma doesn’t need them yet. What are they for?”

  They are for you, Zander Cruz.

  “They—what?”

  The newborn nanomites are for you, Zander Cruz. Jesus asked us to make as many for you as presently abide with Gemma Keyes. This is part of the plans Jesus has for you and Gemma Keyes. You will be equals in strength, endurance, and ability. It overcomes the last obstacle to your union.

  The nanomites were giving themselves to Zander. They were offering to fully merge with him as they had with me. No—that wasn’t quite it. They had labored to double the nanocloud in size; they—

  I got it before Zander did.

  I understood.

  They were offering to split the super-sized cloud and give half to Zander.

  “Um, Nano? You . . . you don’t like to be apart. You said so yourself. Won’t it be painful for you to give half the nanocloud to Zander?”

  The color in the mist drained away, fading to infinite shades and shadows of grays.
>
  We choose to do what Jesus has asked of us, Gemma Keyes. He has promised to give us the strength to bear it.

  “But—”

  If Zander accepts our offer, our nanocloud will become two nanoclouds. Jesus says this is love: When we are willing to lay down our life for a friend. We will, with Jesus’ help, accept this difficult step and adapt to it. And, if you and Zander marry, Jesus says you will be “one.” Our two will not always be apart. We will frequently be together.

  We are willing to do this for you, Gemma Keyes. We wish for you to be happy.

  I placed my hands on my face and sobbed into them.

  The nanomites! They loved me! They were willing to divide, to separate, so that Zander and I could be together. They were willing to suffer for my happiness.

  “Zander . . . what the nanomites are offering comes at terrible cost to them. It would be a distressing sacrifice.”

  “I-I think I understand. But they keep saying their proposal is ‘part of Jesus’ plan.’ What does that mean? What does he expect of us when you and I are ‘equals in strength, endurance, and ability’? What about my ministry, my work at the church? How does this all fit together?”

  “It has to be what President Jackson asked of me.”

  “The President Jackson?”

  “Is there another? Still living, I mean.” I blew out a breath. “Listen, we need to talk. I-I have things to tell you.”

  With the nanocloud spread like a canopy over us, Zander and I sat cross-legged on my carpet, and I explained how the nanomites and I had slipped into the SCIF and overheard Vice President Harmon’s plan to assassinate Robert Jackson and usurp the presidency.

  “I left for Washington that evening. The next day, under the nanomites’ cover of invisibility and with their help to spoof the Secret Service’s security systems, I entered the White House. I waited in the Residence for the President and First Lady to return from an evening out. I appeared to the President and asked if he would give me a minute of his time.”

  I shouldn’t have expected Zander to stay sitting. By the time I got to “waited in the Residence,” he was on his feet, pacing.

  “You just waltzed into the White House and presented yourself to the President.”

  “Well, obviously, you’re getting the condensed version.”