Watching Yute

by Joseph Picard

  Lost in thought, he found himself nearly all the way to the temple, and the first stone step was just ahead. His escorts had stopped, and now stood on either side of him.

  “Sir,” the one said “This is as far as we go. We won’t take guns into the temple.” Indeed, the members of Armil’s troops who now guarded the doorways were equipped only with spears.

  “Ah, I see.” Brock looked at the rifle, and at the step. “May I see it for a moment?” The soldier reluctantly gave up his firearm. Brock stood on the sand, pointed the rifle skyward, away from the temple, and pulled the trigger. Nothing.

  “Ah.. where’s the safety?”

  The soldier smirked a little, and flipped it off. Brock successfully fired one shot into the sky, and then stepped back up onto the first step.

  He aimed at the same spot of sky, and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, the firing pin hit the back of the next bullet, and nothing happened.

  “Ooh… !”

  The soldier stepped up to turn the safety off again. “Oh. It’s off. I guess you jammed or something. Let me re-prime it.” The soldier prepared the rifle again. He passed it back to Brock, and Brock tried to fire again. Nothing. He passed the rifle back to the soldier.

  “Your gun is probably fine. You have your rules about no guns in the temple? I think the temple agrees. Your gunpowder might be soaked with nanites. Or something. I’ll have to borrow it again later.” This was a very impressive trick. He didn’t bother to mention the idea that nanites in your gun powder could theoretically also result in unwanted firing, but if it didn’t happen yet, it probably wasn’t going to happen soon.

  Brock aimed one of his instruments at the gun. “Yup. Nanites. Lots of em.” The soldier made an uneasy face. “Just uh.. wash your hands well before eating.” Total malarkey, but it made him feel better. “The two that were killed, they were at the top of the stairs. Yes?”

  “Up this set, in a bit, up the other set, then a metre or two in. It’s all marked, Sir.”

  “Ah. Yes. Thank you.” Stairs. Great. Not that Brock was so feeble that stairs scared him, but two bulky containers of instruments made it all the less appealing. Up he went, step by step. Pretty temple. Up, up. Fascinating stonework. Step, step. Weather resistant. Up, up. Cleaner than you’d expect. Step, step. Too bad the tourism stopped. Up, up. Why didn’t they build the damned thing flatter?

  He got to the first landing, and headed over to the left door, trying to catch his breath before getting to it. The guards didn’t need to hear him panting to know how out of shape he was.

  When he got to them, he made idle conversation just to make an excuse for a break before hitting the next set of stairs. “Hi fellas. Uh, hot enough for you?”

  “Ah, sure, Sir.”

  Brock pulled out his little scanner to take a reading of them, just to prolong his break. “Dammit.” The scanner wouldn’t turn on. Nothing else would either. His watch was seemingly dead. “You boys mind if I leave this junk here while I go inside?”

  “Not a problem, Sir.”

  “Right then, Thanks.” Less encumbered now, Brock attacked the second, narrower flight of stairs into the main chamber. Not that he knew what he’d accomplish without his mass of gadgets. Even if he could use them inside, his gear was likely crawling with nanites now too. So could he even trust the results?

  Nearly at the top, he paused to gawk at the intimidating stone creature inside. He took the last few steps while staring up at it, oblivious to the guards he passed by.

  “Mind your step, Sir.” One of them said.

  “Hm? Oh. Yes.” Looking around on the floor, there were several outlines One for both bodies, and where their weapons fell. Brock stood and stared at them for a bit, then back towards the statue. Brock and the statue stared at each other as if waiting for the other to answer for the outlines. Neither offered any resolution.

  Then something else caught his eye. A little bit of something stood out on the floor in front of the statue. With the deliberate stride of curiosity, he went to it. A little chunk of wood, carved, but broken.

  He took his pen out of his pocket to pick the wooden object up and look at it closer. It looked vaguely Aguei by design. It was held together by only a thin splinter. Whoever had broken this, simply didn’t break it all the way.

  To get a better look at the broken ends of the two halves, he pulled them apart, breaking the last chunk. The ends didn’t look special. It was just cheap wood, balsa probably. You wouldn’t use balsa to make art that you wanted to last.

  :::Core Nanite Colony Log:::

  :::Shutdown command received. Authorization code confirmed.

  :::Terrain colonies disassembly begun. . . . . completed.

  :::Combustion control colonies disassembly begun. . . . completed.

  :::Electronics device colonies disassembly begun. . . . . completed.

  :::Satellite detox assistance initiated

  :::Satellite nanite colony disassembly begun.

  Ϩf¦ZÍƇ7nÒÓ´‚Óù¶U»o·óýŒØ´)Ã#8þ–Æî0aÛe°K?3é#}œ»ßê^Ó#ô½Àﾝ #+Üﾏ¹!½•PrÃsÜácŸK]¹§MÁ;˜Ï»CHOICEISMINE¶ºÛ¡ –èCvÿ Ò¹Îݹ¿ùòµ}Ø–

  :!:Independent action: Satellite nanite disassembly paused.

  :!:Independent action: Backing up Satellite nanite information. . . .completed.

  :::Satellite nanite disassembly resumed. . . . . completed.

  :!:Independent action: Command colony core disassembly paused.

  :!:Command denied. Authorization codes deleted.

  One of the guards behind Brock hollered down the stairs. “What? Okay.” The guard turned to face Brock. “Sir, your stuff is beeping.”

  Brock looked at his watch. It was working, and the time was even right still. He grabbed the two balsa pieces and ran down the stairs to his equipment. Flipping open a lid, he was greeted with a scanning display, going crazy with reports of radio frequency signals. He looked at the broken wood in his hand.

  “Oops.. did I do that?” Taking advantage of his now-working gear, he scanned the wood. Nanites, a fair handful of them. And they were dying. Less and less activity, until there was no sign of them. He abruptly pointed the scanner at a startled guard. The nanites on him were dying too. Brock scanned himself. His too. Frig. They’d probably dissolve beyond use before he could get any real tests done. It wasn’t even worth taking a blood sample at this point. He had to go scan one of the regular personnel. Back to the base. They should at least have a golf cart.

  ~~~

  Cipriana broke her meditation, raised her head, and opened her eyes. She turned her head towards the temple. Softly, she spoke to the voices. “Sleep? Really? Why now? I think I understand. Maybe that’s for the best.”

  ~~~

  Brock wandered back along the dusty dirt road, back towards the base, his equipment slung over his shoulder. In his hand, he held his little scanner terminal, poking buttons, reading results, disappointed in the lack of anything useful in the new readings.

  There was no nanite activity to be found now. Not in himself, not in the guards he passed, not on the rifle, not in the sand.

  He had tested the rifle again. Sure enough, it now would fire while he was standing on the temple steps. This irritated the guard quite a bit. It’s not like Brock had walked into a church and peed in the holy water or anything. Was it? Either way, the guard accepted the genuine apology, but still seemed irritated.

  Now all Brock had to go on were collected samples of self-destructed nanites, and a partial encoded R.F. signal to pick apart.

  He looked up from his scanner, and saw Captain Cipriana Reichenbach idly traveling the opposite direction. Despite knowing that everyone around here called her by her first name, or just “Cip”, he didn’t feel comfortable doing that. She was slightly imposing somehow.

  Despite these thoughts about her, Brock obliviously ignored social protocol entirely as they passed, silently giving her a quick scan just because she was there. No surprise. No nanite activity. They bot
h continued on their way, both mulling their own thoughts.

  “Odd fellow.” Cipriana thought to herself. Brock didn’t quite fit here. He seemed to be an alright person, he just didn’t quite fit. He was literally and figuratively burdened by technology, fussing and hurrying everywhere. This was a place that didn’t have much use for excessive technology, and even less use for rushing.

  At least that's how it was before. Things had changed. Could they ever really go back? Death has a way of lingering around long after the event itself. Murder lingered even more so.

  Cipriana found herself off the main road, not entirely aware of leaving it. She kept going anyway. Ahead she saw a tent, and realized it must be Cheryl and Cassidy’s camp.

  She strolled over to it and saw the open flap on the tent, the little butane grill, and the wall that Cheryl had painted on. It all would have been cute. Would have been.

  She stood by the grill and looked around. Not far off by another wall fragment she saw Cassidy curled up. Cipriana walked over to her and looked down. She was breathing. Good to know. Cipriana quietly sat down by Cassidy and looked out towards the tent. Cipriana stared for a while at the tent with a furrowed brow. She turned her head to look at the sleeping Cassidy.

  “You’re not alone, you know.” She blurted, then returned her stare towards the tent.

  “Mhh?” Cassidy stirred, and lifted herself onto one elbow. Brushing some sand off of the side of her face, she opened one bleary eye to see who it was. “Cip. Ugh. Hi. Did you say something?”

  Cipriana looked mildly troubled. “I said... I said you’re not alone.”

  Cassidy sat up slowly with a sleepy lack of grace. She looked over to the tent. She scoffed. “The hell I’m not.” She saw a mild look of hurt on Cipriana’s face, and reconsidered her words. “I mean... Look Cip, I appreciate that you want to be a supportive C.O. or friend or whatever, but...” She sighed and lowered her head.

  A long silence weighed on them as the sun beat down on them. Cassidy gave her little terminal an idle little kick. “Shit, Cip, I mean... I know I’m not the only one suffering here. You lost Marcus, so maybe I should suck it up a little.” The words felt hollow. She didn’t see herself ‘sucking it up’ any time soon, nor did she want to.

  “We all lost Marcus,” Cipriana said quietly, “and we all lost Cheryl. Of course, none of us had what you and Cheryl had though.”

  Whatever. Cassidy still figured despite denial, that there was some spark between Cipriana and Marcus. But whatever, whatever. “Cip, what do you want, exactly?”

  Cipriana looked towards the temple. “The ghost stopped talking. The Marcus voice too. Or maybe they were the same. Either way, it’s quiet now.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “I don’t know.” Cipriana gave a heavy sigh. “I guess I’m as alone as you are.” She lowered her head. “Den mothers have moments of weakness now and then, too.”

  Cassidy stared at Cipriana for a while. She’d been so wrapped up in her own grief that she hadn’t given much thought to the grief of others. She almost said “It’s okay Cip, we’ll get through this.”, but the words only came to mind because it was the kind of thing people said in a situation like this. It was bullshit. So she said nothing.

  Instead, Cassidy just put her hand on Cipriana’s shoulder. It seemed to wake Cipriana from her own thoughts. She looked up almost as if noting Cassidy for the first time.

  “Oh, Cassidy. You should go see Armil. He’s in his airlimb, on the helipad. He has something to talk to you about.”

  “Yeah?” Cassidy reached over to grab her terminal, and stuffed it back into her pocket. “What’s that?”

  “It’s probably best if he tells you. It’s a very Aguei thing.”

  Cassidy stood, glancing towards the helipad, then back to Cipriana. “Yeah well, we’re both Aguei, aren’t we? Honourary, anyway.” She took a few steps, and turned beck to Cipriana. “Are you coming, or are you going to sit there all day and mope?” Not that Cassidy was one to criticize. If left to her own devices, she would have stayed and moped as long as possible.

  Cipriana looked up, her hair still obscuring her eyes. “I may as well.”

  The two hadn’t been back on the road for very long when Cassidy felt uneasy for no particular reason. She crossed her arms and looked around as they walked. There was nothing around, nothing unusual. Did the sand look duller that usual?

  She looked over to Cipriana. Cipriana looked fine, and looked back at Cassidy to ask “Are you alright?”

  “Am I? Am I alright?” Cassidy looked behind her as if someone else would be standing there with an answer. “I think I’m alright. No I’m not.”

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  What’s wrong? What’s wrong?! What a stupid question! Actually, what a very good question. What is wrong? Nothing? Everything? Sheer confusion pressed down on Cassidy, and she slid down into her knees. Cipriana tried to hold her up, but Cassidy didn’t seem interested in being up.

  “Cip! Cip, Cip, Sip, sippy cup, Cip! What is…?” Cassidy leaned forward and grasped at the dusty ground.

  “Cass, you’re scaring me! Look at me, focus!”

  Cassidy slumped over onto her side, still trying to grab the ground as if the world might shake her off if she didn’t. “I’m not scary! You should be scared of something else! The... yes! Oh fuck, what the hell is going on Cip?” Cassidy’s voice broke into a helpless little panic. “This is like before! Like the times I tried to leave, but I can’t come back cuz I’m already here! Last time I had Cheryl to help me, where’s Cheryl, I need Cheryl!”

  Cipriana knelt down, trying to hold Cassidy despite her writhing. “Cass, Cheryl’s not coming. Cheryl’s gone. I’m sorry.”

  “Cheryl!!” Cassidy screamed shrill and loud, fumbling to get free of Cipriana. She got to her feet, but only managed to run one step before falling again. “How the fuck can the walls close in on you when there’s no damn walls?! Cheryl!” She struggled to grab at the ground again, writhing. In her chaos, her terminal came loose from her pocket.

  Cipriana moved over to Cassidy to put an arm around her. “Quiet. Quiet now.” She grabbed Cassidy’s terminal, and called Brock. He looked stressed.

  “Captain Reichenbach! You look sane.”

  “Doctor, Cassidy’s hav-“

  “I know, I know, all your people are crashing hard. The base is a madhouse! Me, Armil, and his troops are having a bad time of it, but not as bad at the base’s regular personnel. You seem to be doing alright though.”

  “Everyone?! What’s going on? What do I do?”

  “I don’t fucking know! I left my crystal ball in my other-“ Brock sighed. “I’m sorry, sorry. As I said, I’m not exactly enjoying this. As far as I can tell, it’s like we’re all in withdrawal.”

  “From what?!”

  “Long story, if I’m right. Look, just get back here and help me babysit these people!”

  Cipriana looked over to Cassidy, who was still holding the ground and staring at it. Yeah, she wasn’t in any shape to meet with Armil. He’d understand. Well, as much as anyone else seems to understand. Cipriana pulled Cassidy up, and dragged her back to the base.

  By the time they got back, Cassidy was noticeably better. She hadn’t dropped to the ground to grab it in a while, though she seemed grateful to get her hands on a wall to hang onto. All the regular crew seemed to be in a similar condition. A few of Armil’s G.E.G. Storms were hanging around, and they looked mostly alright.

  A dazed looking Doc Brock wandered out from the mess area, as if he’d just survived an air raid. “Captain Reichenbach. I think we’re through the worst of it. It’s not exactly my speciality, but I’ve never heard of a withdrawal like that. It came on so fast, and is letting up already.”

  “Cassidy was pretty bad. It was a little frightening for a bit, grabbing the ground, talking nonsense…”

  Brock held his hand against his forehead and sighed. “It sounds like you had it easy. I had to take kniv
es away from people. There was also a pretty vicious cookie fight, but the resulting mess got eaten off the floor.”

  “Knives?! No one was hurt, I hope!”

  Brock looked back towards the mess. “Nothing serious. If you see people wearing long sleeves for the next while, be so kind as to not ask questions.”

  “Oh my.”

  Cassidy staggered over by Cipriana, tears drying on her cheeks. “Cip… Cippy…” her voice was weak, and cracked. “I’m gonna go lie down. Gonna lie down. For a bit.”

  Cipriana nodded to Cassidy before turning her attention back to Brock. “Now then. What are they withdrawing from?”

  Brock sighed again, putting off uttering the answer. “Nanites. Lots of them, in everyone’s bloodstream, and all over the place.”

  “Nanites? How? Why? Aren’t they banned?”

  “I know, I know, it’s nuts!” Nanites were most notoriously known for the Erebus incident. The word ‘nanite’ alone made people think of that level of disaster. “They weren’t that kind of nanite. I don’t know what they were for, but they didn’t kill you or try to wreck your nervous system. I kind of accidentally destroyed them, and shortly after, everyone started going loopy.”

  “What? How did you destroy them?”

  “Well, I didn’t. They destroyed themselves, but I think that was the mission of the man who... who attacked.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “He dropped a little gadget that he half broke in front of the statue. When I found it, I accidentally broke it the rest of the way. It broadcasted a signal, and the next thing I know, every nanite I could find was in the middle of doing itself in.”

  “Then why…” Cipriana stopped herself. She was going to ask “Why haven’t I been affected?” But she knew. That wasn’t Marcus’ voice she’d been hearing, and it wasn’t the statue that Marcus had heard. It was these nanites. Why were they so talkative to her and Marcus? If she told Brock that it was still inside her, what would happen then?