After half an hour of struggle, Gus could tell that he was making little headway. He had thought it would be easy to adjust the blade with how little effort it took to manipulate with his ability. He flipped the rectangle of metal and looked at the uncut section that was the straight edge of the plate. This side was much more regular and smoother, and he would get a more balanced and even cutting surface if he focused on this side, rather than the ragged perforated edge. He closed his eyes and tried to envision what it should look like, then opened them and looked down at the edge of the plate. After doing this a couple times, he felt like he could see just how angled the blade needed to be in order to cut efficiently but not be too thin or flimsy.
Hoping to finish more quickly, he tried adding his ability to help with fashioning the knife. First, he imagined using his Wreck-It-Gus skill on the small wedge of metal that would take the squarish edge of the blade to a triangular point, while simultaneously using Wreck-less on the finished form he wanted to retain in the blade. He attempted using the stone again, having to stop and reorient his concentration a couple times, but was able to see slow progress.
Gus expected to see shavings as the process progressed, but there was no residue as he worked. He wondered if the material was being condensed and the blade was becoming stronger along the edge somehow. He had seen a documentary on the smithing of Japanese swords and how the metal was fashioned, folded and treated to remove impurities. It had been a long time ago, but certain aspects were recalled with amazing clarity. The shape of the blade, and the different densities of the metal based on how the smith fashioned it. What he was doing felt intuitively correct, but was hard to conceptualize. He just kept working, letting instinct guide his efforts, and slowly saw his focus bear results as the blunt edge gradually became a point.
After an hour of concentration, peppered with a lot of breaks to recharge, a chime sounded, notifying him he had leveled up his Wreck-It-Gus skill to level 3 and the blade achieved a fine bevel on one side. He dismissed the 50 XP notice that accompanied the message.
Taking another drink, Gus set to finishing the other side. He had it done in less than an hour. Sharpened edge along one side and the serrated teeth looked extra-menacing along the back of the blade. Gus held the cleaver-like weapon and decided to finish the knife by fashioning a point. Using his pinpoint serration method, he made a slight curve to the opposite corner of the knife. Breaking this off, another hour led to the fully-finished knife.
“I should name this thing, I’m kind of proud of it,” Gus mused. The contour reminded him of the Arkansas mascot, so he held the knife up, Lion-King style and intoned, “I name thee RAZORBACK!” No lightning bolts came from above with the power of Grayskull, but there was a combo chime-ding!
You have completed the quest ‘Dems sharp!
250 XP awarded
390 XP to level 3
You have crafted a unique weapon, Razorback. Weapon stats: +10% piercing, +10% slashing, +50% durability. Due to the opposing forces used in fashioning this blade, it gains a unique characteristic, Wreck-tums!
Wreck-tums! (Level 1): 5% critical chance that will damn near kill the enemy from the opposing forces of chaos the blade unleashes along its edge. Blade is also auto-sharpening due to this effect. After receiving wear or damage to the blade’s edge, chaos forces will re-balance it to razor sharpness. This item has hidden skills only discovered through use.
100 XP awarded
290 XP to level 3
“Are you kidding me, Nick? Wreck-tums? I mean, it’s a great characteristic, but this is getting ridiculous.”
“Your subconscious, remember, Gus?” Nick reminded, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that…”
“Does that ability require verbal activation?” Gus asked, holding his breath.
“No, it is totally passive,” Nick confirmed, and Gus let out a sigh of relief, imagining himself running around shouting ‘rectums’ for an entire battle like a fool.
“Let’s put this baby to work!” he said and turned to the highlighted bamboo and other trees. Gus picked up Razorback and made his way across the stream to the thin trees, leaving the bamboo for now. He was able to easily hack down the stalks but they had tiny thorns on the outer bark. Not conducive to working, especially in the nude. He noticed the edges of the thin stalks were rolled up as the thorny bark separated from the supple green core with a slight tug. These cores were smooth and uniform and six to eight feet on average, with a thickness a bit smaller than a pencil.
After stripping them, Gus tried to apply what he had learned about weaving from the palm fronds and tried to envision how he could make a little oval platform for his feet. He tried a foot-sized oval but realized that there would be no support in the middle, so he doubled the foot-sized loop and tried to figure out how to hold everything.
He settled on grasping the ends of the two loops with a big toe in each and holding the open end of the loops toward the center with his non-dominant right hand. Threading over-under-over-under, back and forth, and pulling the weaves taut, he was able to form a third of the oval.
He had to gather more materials to finish, but the weave was tight enough to keep from coming apart. Finishing up after gathering more materials, he was able to make a small woven pad slightly larger than his foot.
Denuding another couple stalks he made another sole, and mused about how when something was denuded it was actually made nude, not removed from nudeness. And how their denuding would remove his nudeness. He almost thought he could hear Nick give a virtual groan, but it could have been his imagination. Was his increase in intelligence making him contemplate things more? If so, hopefully it would give more practical insights along with the ridiculous ones.
He attempted making straps out of the stalks but that made them too difficult to walk on evenly, plus the stems would not bend at that sharp of an angle to go flat along the sole.
“Any ideas, Nick?” Gus asked, but caught himself. “Never mind,” he added, not wanting to lose any XP. “Hmm. I need some way to make a durable cord, so I need to find something to braid together that is long and flexible.” Nothing seemed to be highlighted yellow in his vision in this area. He wondered if the boost to his perception had lapsed since he had finished the quest.
He’d have to put some points in perception, especially if he wanted to have an easier time surviving. The perception boost from his Wreck-ord skill bonus was a lifesaver. If he was choosing his own stats, he would definitely have ignored perception completely, focusing on strength or agility.
“I also have to figure out a way to start carrying all my junk. Maybe I can make something out of this bamboo,” he mused, remembering that it was also highlighted in yellow earlier. Experimenting, he gathered some of the cast off shoots from the bamboo. It was thin, but using Razorback, Gus was able to cut strips small enough to braid into straps that he attached to the woven pad, and finished his homemade flip-flops.
He had cut down many bamboo poles, and was now faced with the dilemma of how to transport them back to the shelter. At first, he tried to carry the poles in a bundle with Razorback lodged in the far end of one, but they would keep shifting and mercilessly pinched the skin on his forearms when they did so, chewing up tiny slivers of HP.
“Screw this!” Gus spat as he dropped all but two of the bamboo poles and began to drag them behind him.
He was proud of his new footwear. His sore feet almost felt like they were getting massaged in the sandals and it was a relief to not be stabbed with random sharp objects or baked in the burning sand. His stamina and HP were greatly conserved and he made much quicker progress now that he didn’t have to stop so often. He followed his path back to the shelter by the crushed plants and where he’d left footprints in the sand.
It was still awkward cruising around the island naked. Now that he had something to cut with, he would soon rectify that problem and avoid sunburns in sensitive areas. On the space station, he had practically no tan at all, and everyone g
enerally wore full-body jumpsuits. He could tell he was already pushing it with the amount of ‘exposure’ he had been subjected to on just this little trip.
Chapter Eight
History
Day 2 1:39 PM
12:22:57 remaining
Gus dropped the bamboo he’d been dragging and decided to take a quick break in the shade before finishing his clothing. He sat on his thinking spot and gave his body a rest. He was feeling hungry again and thought about trying to fish, or finding one of those crabs he had seen earlier.
He felt happy. For the first time in a long time, he was satisfied with the direction his life was taking him. Up to this point, he really had no long-term plans, or dealt with the thought that this could be his new permanent home. The thought should have filled him with anxiety, but he was enjoying the solitude.
Still, a part of him wanted to show the world what had happened. Especially his father and brother. Not quite yet, but when he had leveled up a bit and was well on his way. Bam! How ya like me now, suckers? The only sour note was the countdown timer, mercilessly clicking off time.
Gus had always been withdrawn, and his friends often had to cajole him to join them when they wanted to go out and do something instead of staying at home playing video games, playing D&D, or watching a movie. He liked those he was close with, but it drained his batteries to be out and about, and work often took the lion’s share of that energy.
Before the nanobots, he thought that if it was fate for him to stay on this island forever, he would be ok with it. He could see himself living here as a reg, as long as he could figure out more of the basics and make himself comfortable. Now, however, things had changed.
He had opportunities and abilities that would be wasted if he were stuck on the island. Plus, he felt restless. Even after a short break, he felt anxious to get up and do something, anything to stay busy. At home, he could lounge around forever; now he felt like he had energy to burn. There was also a mental shift as well, his mind searching for things to occupy itself. It was probably his new status, but he longed to level anything and everything, not wasting a moment.
Still, he had some things to do before he could go all out on the ‘good stuff.’ He reviewed his current situation. First, make some clothes, and figure out issues with food supply. He would have to come up with something so he wasn’t just spending most of his time hunting and gathering.
His shelter would need upgrading in case whatever had woken him up last night decided to see what humans tasted like. Once that was sorted, he needed to get off the island.
“Nick, would the nanobots protect me if I went through the shield around the island again?”
“It is doubtful, without the protection of the suit. You were fed intravenously and kept afloat during that time. The suit also allowed you to breathe while floating. Even if you made a raft, it is unlikely you would be able to direct it out of the field while unconscious.”
“Well that sucks.”
“The presence of such a shield would suggest that there are support structures somewhere on the island. One would not invest in such protection without something valuable to protect.”
“True, I hadn’t thought of that. Ok, once I get stabilized here, I can search for a way to turn off the shield. Looks like I won’t have a lazy island vacation after all, with so much to do. Break time’s over.”
Gus went back to camp and put his new blade to use. Razorback cut the fabric of the suit easily, and he separated the helmet from the rest of the suit. He left a strip of the suit attached to the helmet to act as a handle. Testing it, the material remained firmly attached.
By carefully cutting, he made a pair of shorts from the outer skin of the suit. The way the suit was designed he had two sides of the shorts that he had to tie together along the edges with small knots made of tiny strips of material. The waist was also way too large, so he cut a long thin strip of material and then made alternating holes around the waist. Twisting his strip, he wove it in and out of the shorts and tied the end into a knot. Not super supportive, but he felt less exposed and vulnerable with the small piece of clothing.
Taking his helmet with him to act as a basket, Gus scavenged the nest area and found ten eggs from different nests. He took these back to camp and thought about using sea water to boil them, but was afraid they would end up too salty and inedible. Leaving the eggs in camp, he made the trip to the stream and filled the visor with fresh water after cleaning and rinsing it. Taking a deep drink, he headed back to camp.
Gus cleaned and opened four coconuts with Razorback. Drinking the coconut water, he filled the coconut halves to store some of the water from the visor for drinking. He rekindled the fire and set the visor to heat when the coals were ready, being careful to keep the handle along the rim. Fortunately, there was a lip at the neck of the visor that contained the handle, keeping it from falling into the water or down the outside. When the water began to boil, he lowered the eggs in with a forked piece of driftwood so the eggs wouldn’t crack as he cooked them.
He timed the eggs as he dug a small depression into the sand near the fire pit. When they were done, he fished out the handle with the driftwood and pulled the visor off the fire and set it into the depression. He let the water cool, sitting there in silence. The quiet made him realize how Nick was often so quiet that Gus forgot that he was there at times.
“Nick, are you there? Do you turn off like a screensaver if I’m not interacting with you?”
“I am always functioning, but at times I find it prudent to recuse myself from influencing your behaviors. All constructs are programmed to resist the tendency to assist their hosts too often, as this limits their progression, especially in the beginning stages, where the XP requirement to the next level is smaller.”
“Well, tell me about yourself. Who programmed you? Were they killed in the crash?”
“From our creation, we have had many iterations and generations of what you humans call nanobots, across planets and galaxies difficult to quantify. We do not have significant data on the Creators, just assumptions on their motives based on directives embedding our programming.
“The primary one is allowing the apex lifeforms of a planet to advance and progress without interference in how they choose to utilize the skills they acquire. Some civilizations have destroyed themselves and their planet. Others are still evolving. Your planet is still in the early stages, as the species is fractured and divided, and still unable to work in a unified manner toward a common goal. A caste system has developed between those with and without abilities, which will be a barrier toward reaching humanity’s full potential.”
Gus knew exactly the divide Nick was talking about. “Are we making any progress to fixing that?” he probed.
“It is difficult to tell at this point. Many species make breakthroughs that tip their development one way or another. There has not been much progression in the last decade, but that is not uncommon. A species is usually allowed to progress at their own pace.”
“So what is this all for then? If these powers aren’t helping people as a whole, then why are the nanobots even doing it?”
“We do not know what the end goal is for our interaction with inhabited planets across the galaxy. Our best theory is that we are currently in a preparation phase, but for what, we do not know. This cycle has been going on for hundreds of thousands of your years, so the feeling of urgency my kind once had has waned, as we have not had any changes to our directives or any updates to our mission.
“The Creators could be dead for all that we know, but they created us to be resilient and durable. We have not had to change our design throughout that time and have interacted with a multitude of different life-forms across countless solar systems.
“Initially, we were seeded on many different planets in a dormant state and then we came online simultaneously. Our directives give us a form of satisfaction when we evolve, and this is done in concert with our hosts, so we continue, cycle through cyc
le.
“When it is detected that a world is going to end itself, measures are taken to prepare a craft, plot a course for the next suitable location and we reconvene and travel together en masse. This resets our formed constructs as data is collated, processed and shared with the quantum server, just on a much larger scale than the ‘back-up’ we constantly undergo to preserve what progress has been made.”
“So what happens to the people when the nanobots leave?”
“It is not a pleasant truth, but most organisms die when we are recalled. Part of our programming compels us to copy unique iterations of changes and evolutions to serve as templates for future races. This results in shredding and destroying genetic material, and then the remaining genome is not viable. Not all life in the universe is uniform, but there are general trends. We are highly specialized at adapting and reformatting, so one of our primary purposes is to retain progress to see if another race can do more.”
“Harsh, but I guess the universe is harsh in general. It sounds like that only happens after there’s no other option. Better to at least get some benefit out of the whole process than to let it all go to waste.” Gus fished out an egg with his piece of driftwood and began peeling it as Nick continued explaining.
“You are correct; the genetic information would be lost either way, because it takes a worldwide apocalypse-level event to trigger this reaction from our kind.”
“Another thing, I recall you mentioning how humans refer to you as nanobots, but how do you refer to yourselves? Do you consider yourself a life-form? You certainly can mimic personalities in a way that I would never classify as artificial, if I had no prior knowledge before speaking with you.”
“That is something we are hardly ever asked,” Nick said pausing to answer. “Most humans view us as tools or ‘robots’ because, for some, that limits the feeling that makes one need to reciprocate to us for the assistance we provide. We refer to our collective as Nth, because our generations are infinite. As long as one of us remains, we can create brothers and eventually recreate our population.”
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