Assemblers of Infinity

by Kevin J. Anderson

  nanotechnology. That's all conjecture at this point, though the Daedalus artifact is indeed being built by microscopic machines.

  "We still have no idea what the big construction will turn out to be or when it will be finished. Because of the extremely hazardous environment surrounding the site, we cannot even send remote vehicles to explore it directly. We're working with very limited information." Pritchard folded his hands in his lap.

  "We're trying to cover all our bases. An eminent team of life science specialists manning the Lagrange waystation Collins has been shipped to the Moon, to assist in the examination of this phenomenon. They even recommended destroying the Collins so there would be absolutely no chance of infestation

  -- "

  "What?" interrupted Newellen in the control center. He looked around the room. Chu stood mute. Jason scowled at the screen.

  " -- in fact if this were a runaway nanotech threat, all the experts agree that the entire Moon would have disassembled days ago. So really the situation has been blown out of proportion. Granted that the unfortunate accident to Trevor Waite and his companions was widely disseminated, some evidence suggests that all three of them merely had a case of massive micropuncture, perhaps from an anomalous meteor shower. And, yes, the destruction of the Collins was costly ... but it shows how far our astronauts are willing to go to ensure Earth's safety."

  "I can't believe it!" The Columbus control center filled with a storm of response.

  "Quiet!" yelled Jason. "He's trying to build a cover story. Let's just see how the hell this turns out."

  Newellen grumbled as he waved up the volume.

  The newscaster nodded sagely. "But suppose this is something out of sci-fi -- you know, what if the Andromeda strain were to really exist, an alien robot virus that could wipe out our world? What would we do then?"

  Pritchard's face went stone cold. Even Jason thought he could feel a drop in the temperature. "That is why the United Space Agency appointed me as their military deputy, Tom. If anything ever arose that would harm the sovereignty of the United Space Agency's signatory countries, we are prepared to deal with it in the swiftest, most decisive manner. The old methods of using conventional procedures would simply not work against such an insidious threat. Thus, we are prepared to do all we can, if need be."

  The video took a closeup of the general. Jason could see muscles working in Pritchard's jaw.

  "Swiftest, most decisive manner?" the newscaster asked. "What precisely can we do to prevent this thing from getting to Earth? After all, we've got a crew of what, thirty or so people on the Moon, including those from the Collins?"

  Pritchard waited a beat before answering. "Let me make myself perfectly clear. There are many options that the military has in order to prevent the contamination of Earth. We may have to make some tough choices."

  "Exactly what types of choices, General?"

  "Let's hope it never comes to that," Pritchard said with an edge to his voice. "And you must remember that everyone on Moonbase Columbus is aware of the consequences and the risks they accepted when going up there. We cannot risk contaminating Earth -- that is the paramount concern."

  Newellen shouted over the buzz that started to rise around the control center. "What the hell is he talking about? Has he written us off, or what?"

  "Switch back to Select," said Jason, quietly.

  "What?"

  "I said switch to Agency Select." Few grumbled when a second image slid into the cube, sharing space in the cube with Pritchard's interview. An old video of a space shuttle shot filled the cube. The hushed voice of the narrator described what an awesome task it was to be in space to stay.

  "They're not even covering the news conference," Jason said.

  Chu snorted. "They're interviewing McConnell's Deputy about leaving us high and dry on the moonbase, and Select is showing reruns."

  Jason thought for a moment before speaking. "Does that tell you how much Director McConnell really cares about what happens to us up here?"

  In his mind Jason saw an image of the abandoned Collins

  self-destructing in a silent fireball. "What does she have in mind for us?"

  --------

  CHAPTER 19

  SIM-MARS

  Back at the Sim-Mars lab module, Erika could feel as if she were the only sane person remaining on the Moon. There was really no need for her to continue her investigation in isolation -- Columbus certainly had enough laboratory space, biochemistry equipment, experts in life sciences --

  including Bernard Chu -- and plenty of other technicians to assist her.

  But Erika didn't want their help as much as she wanted to be alone. She had to get away from all the angry glares. The people blamed her for releasing the samples, for infecting everyone on Columbus, just like Typhoid Mary.

  She went over and over her procedures, trying to discover where she had slipped, where she had breached her own rigid experimental protocol. Even Parvu couldn't see what she had done wrong. But the nanocritters were so resourceful that they could have gotten through any barrier she tried to erect. She had been foolish to think otherwise.

  So what were the nanocritters waiting for? Something must have changed inside of them. Did it have anything to do with the Disassemblers vanishing from the regolith samples? How had the nanocritters modified their programming to know not to disassemble people?

  Nanocritters. Even her half-whimsical nickname for the microscopic robots didn't seem humorous anymore. Not when she had billions of them coursing through her bloodstream, waiting for some signal to destroy her. If indeed that was what they were waiting for.

  Compton-Reasor's group at Stanford, Taylor's at MIT, Sommerveld in Belgium, and even Parvu had offered every assistance from afar. Some pondered the problem with computer models, others configured mock experiments. But simple suggestions were worth only so much, and working over the 240,000-mile telepresent link was far too cumbersome, even with slow test procedures.

  Erika pulled back from the holographic monitor and stared at the nanomachines swimming through the sample of her blood. Small enough to assemble viruses, the nanocritters were not even noticed by normal human immune-response systems.

  She rubbed her eyes and concentrated on the holotank display. She had to find some answers. Her fingers skimmed over the controls, programming the computerized scanner to run another analysis of the blood sample, this time sorting for any nanomachine not explicitly matching the known configurations of Assemblers, Quality Checkers, Reprogrammers, or Controllers.

  The disappearance of the Disassemblers was the crux of the matter, she felt. They had vanished from the regolith samples contained in the Sim-Mars chamber, and they had not appeared in any of the infected blood samples, though all the other types of nanocritters had been passed on.

  As far as Erika knew, the Disassemblers could be hiding, massing for an attack. And if that happened, there would be no warning. Everyone was infested with nanomachines from the inside out. Everyone on the Moon would dissolve in an instant. She couldn't imagine how it would feel -- like being eaten alive by billions of hungry ants?

  Erika activated the scanner, setting the computerized machinery in motion. The scanner initiated a shape-matching algorithm of the nanotech machines in Erika's blood against the stored templates. The microwaldoes and their imaging sensors traversed the drop of blood like a giant ocean liner plowing across a pond. On the holotank's screen, nanocritters were caught up in the microwaldoes' wake, twirled around in the turbulent flow.

  She glanced at the backup telepresence units next to her. Identical to the sealed infection chamber at which she now worked, the three other units displayed similar statistics on their flatscreen panels. Each of the earthbound teams was conducting separate and independent investigations, but no one had suggested what to do about the infestation. Because of the light delay in the feedback loop, their telepresent microwaldoes moved unsteadily though their samples.

  Even as the millions upon millions of n
anocritters were examined, cataloged, and discarded, Erika knew that it would take hours to completely analyze the sample. She pushed away from the station and stood, stretching.

  She padded to the coffee machine at the back of the lab, and after pouring a cup, circled back to the holotanks. Tucking her legs underneath her in the chair, she made herself comfortable and waved on the communications tank. "Jordan Parvu, please."

  The screen blinked, waited for the signal and response from the NIL, then Parvu's face filled the holotank. It took a second, but the sleepiness in his eyes disappeared as he recognized Erika. "I hoped it was you, Erika! I was wondering if you had made any progress."

  "No." She shook her head. "Still no luck." The light delay made Parvu's expression seem frozen in the tank.

  Erika sipped at her coffee. "How are things going down there? I haven't heard how the rest of the world is taking this. And the Agency Select channel is worthless as far as critical information."

  "I'm afraid I do not know much more than you. Remember, I am pretty isolated myself. But from what I have heard talking with my son and his wife, people aren't taking this too well. I hear there has been a resurgence in all the old threat-from-space films -- War of the Worlds, Alien, Earth vs the Flying Saucers. I have been far too busy trying to think of a way to help you."

  Erika sighed. "I wish you were here. What can you do for us down there?"

  Parvu hesitated for a moment. He seemed to be uncomfortable with the subject. "I would rather not say at this moment, okay? I have several ideas I am pursuing." He folded his hands in front of him. "How do you yourself feel?"

  Erika answered carefully. "I'm tired and scared, a little weak, but that can all be explained by my circumstances. No need to invoke some external agency. As far as I know, no one that's been infected has experienced any ...

  changes."

  "Perhaps the automata are working on something in your body that you do not know about. How would you know, for example, if they disassembled your appendix?"

  "I had mine removed when I was ten."

  Parvu waved at the air, then smiled. "Then how would you know if they rebuilt it? Anyway, that was just an example." He shrugged his narrow shoulders.

  "I'm having another one of those microcameras sent over to Daedalus today. Still no progress on why the Disassemblers vanished from our samples.

  That's the key, I think. What if all the Disassemblers have stopped taking material apart and are now finishing up their construction?"

  Parvu tapped his fingers together. "I have a different idea. Do you think it has anything to do with the presence of organic material?"

  "You mean can the nanocritters tell if they're inside a living organism?"

  Parvu placed a thin brown finger on his lips. "I have other evidence I may need to share with you. At this moment, my suspicion is that the automata can indeed determine the difference between organic and inorganic material.

  And they have instructions not to disassemble living substances."

  Erika shook her head. "Even if that were true, they should have disassembled the skin of this lab, my spacesuit, all of our life-support equipment."

  Parvu's answer came quietly after the two-second delay. "Perhaps they know to switch themselves off, or at least do nothing more than collect data and replicate themselves inside a living organism without causing damage. You may have been given a reprieve by the alien minds that programmed their scouts."

  Erika frowned at the implications. Just the problem of mass communication between the billions of nanocritters seemed too difficult to overcome.

  Parvu suddenly looked impatient. "I've got to get back and rethink a few of these ideas. Tomorrow perhaps we can make further progress. I will contact you soon, Erika."

  As Parvu switched off, she couldn't help but wonder if he had a working hypothesis already mapped out. And he had never before refused to tell her what he was doing.

  --------

  CHAPTER 20

  ANTARCTICA -- NANOTECHNOLOGY ISOLATION LAB

  Jordan Parvu paced back and forth in the outer ring of the NIL, looking at the glass walls of the nanocore and the sophisticated experimental equipment inside the inner clean-room. He spoke into a voice pickup receiver as he studied the micro-scanning analysis. For future researchers who might need to follow on to his work, he had to make sure he documented everything properly, to keep adequate notes.

  Normally his assistant would have done all this for him.

  "Playback," he said to the computer. His words came back at him.

  "_Basic morphology of assay six_."

  "Stop!" He hadn't been listening to the words; he had been hearing Prokofiev in the background. Muttering to himself, he shut down the stereo pipe-in from the living quarters and stood up to fidget again. Why was it getting so difficult to perform normal day-to-day activities?

  He would have felt comical kicking himself, but that was what he deserved at the moment. He hadn't been paying attention. He had always been meticulous and careful, but now he seemed distracted all the time. Absent minded, wasn't that the stereotype?

  He forced his concentration back to the task at hand. "Begin description again," he told the computer. He repeated the date and the assay number once more as he called up images to display what the microwaldoes and scanning optical microscopes were seeing inside the nanocore.

  "Link to hypertext file of images," he said. "Begin. The results of my hybrid experiment continue to be fascinating. Somehow, together, the two automata 'species' have ... combined. My crude prototypes have done their duty of inspecting and studying the few extraterrestrial samples gathered from the snowpack. But they went much further, much more than just a simple analysis.

  "The prototypes have somehow incorporated certain design features from the dormant automata -- or perhaps their analytical routines managed to switch the dormant automata back on, which then adopted some of the characteristics of my prototypes. It happened very quickly, and we -- " He stopped himself. He was the only one now; there was no we. "I was unable to take samples rapidly enough to study the exact course of evolution."

  He paused to scratch his head. "The two types of machines have become something very new. Something that seems to take the best characteristics of both." He smiled to himself. That was how sophisticated nanotechnology was supposed to work, to seek out design improvements and to incorporate them.

  With the music off, he could hear the wind outside howl louder, constant now, hour after hour. Parvu sat up straight as he hissed in surprise.

  He had forgotten to feed the lab rats again! It had probably been two days. He got up from his chair. How could he keep forgetting?

  Despite the progress he had made in creating the hybrid automata, none of that would benefit him -- or Erika -- unless he could understand what his new toys would do inside the bloodstream. That was the next step.

  And it was a very large step.

  "Old Gimp" seemed the healthiest of the three rats they kept in the NIL. As he held the animal in the palm of his hand, Parvu remembered that Erika had named the rat because of the two missing toes on its forepaw.

  Neither Parvu nor Erika could discern whether it was merely a birth defect --

  not unusual for a lab rat -- or whether it had somehow gotten its digits snipped off in the cage door.

  Without care for two days, the three rats' food dishes and water bottles had been completely empty. Parvu let Old Gimp eat in peace for a few minutes before taking the rat out of its cage. Now the rat trembled in Parvu's hands. It looked hungry, but none the worse for wear.

  Parvu washed the rat with water and disinfectant soap several times.

  Old Gimp squirmed and fought in his hands, but he needed to make it as clean as possible, to remove the loose white fur.

  "This is going to be havoc in my clean room," Parvu said, speaking to Old Gimp. "But it is all part of the experiment, okay?"

  And, he thought to himself, the Agency is going to shut me down soon.
If I do not take chances now, no one else will make the appropriate attempt to find the answers for Erika.

  Parvu returned the rat to its cage, and he dressed up in his clean-room garb. He had no one else to check with, needed no further approvals. He was in charge of everything here, and he had no one to whom he must answer.

  This was his show and he could take as many risks as he wished.

  Parvu kept losing track of time. The stereo continued to play random musical selections, letting him work for hours with no interruption.

  With the rat inside its cage breathing the filtered air of the clean-room, Parvu had no idea how long he had tinkered with the nanocore's fail-safe controls. He knew the passwords, the security interlocks -- he had designed the system himself, after all. But he couldn't remember everything.

  Finally, when the klaxon screeched its warning for the fourth time, upsetting Old Gimp inside the cage, Parvu found the main power circuits and shorted across the wires.

  The nanocore would allow him access now.

  His hands shook as he worked. His actions, the inexcusably risky course he had decided to take by mixing the two types of automata, went completely against his lifetime of meticulousness and care, of rigid adherence to procedures and controls. He himself had been considered a roadblock to other researchers because he insisted on so many doublechecks.

  And now he was sabotaging his own equipment. He, more than anyone else, understood the dangers of unleashing the nanotechnology demon. But he didn't have much time. Erika needed answers now! He couldn't wait.

  Using the microwaldoes and tiny capillary pumps that had been intended for seeding analytical samples, Parvu managed to withdraw a small aliquot of the milky nutrient solution filled with billions of hybrids.

  He stared down at the nanocore seals with his fingers trembling on the controls before he keyed in the long command sequence that would release the sample. It required three separate passwords. Each time, a warning message told him the peril of his actions. Each time, Parvu overrode it.

  The Daedalus automata had already spread three kilometers across the lunar surface. They had already infected Erika and everyone else on the moonbase and on the Collins -- but for some reason they had replicated but otherwise gone dormant in the human bloodstream.