Winger jerked his hand away. “You know what I’m thinking? You can read my mind, ANAD?”
***Not directly…except in a gross way. I didn’t just crystallize yesterday, you know. My coupler picks up broad wave patterns and I can figure out things from that. You seemed to be wondering how it works….how I get in and out***
“I was wondering…” Winger muttered. This is going to take some getting used to, he thought.
***For both of us*** ANAD came back.
Jesus, he can read what I’m thinking, even if I don’t say anything.
The next few days were taken up with Johnny Winger and ANAD getting used to each other. Inside the Containment chamber, and later, outside in the parking lot at Galen Hall, Johnny practiced launching and recovering ANAD until the process was smooth and comfortable for both. With a little tweaking and some compromises, either operation could be accomplished in about half a minute.
“All you have to do for launch now, Johnny,” Doc Frost was saying, “is tell ANAD to configure for launch and give him about half a minute or so. He’ll do the rest.”
***Boss, I’ll let you know when I’m ready. I’ve got a lot of work to do, folding effectors, stabilizing my base platform, configging the processor…just give me a few seconds and I’ll be enabled and ready for action. Say the word and I’ll shoot out like a rocket***
Recovery was more involved but still they managed to do it in under a minute consistently.
“It’s more involved, Johnny,” Frost explained. “ANAD has to get close enough to detect your orientation and locate the capsule port. Then he has to configure himself for the initial transit…that’s a pretty good shock for a mechanism that small, something like twenty-five g’s. He’s got to safe all effectors, put his processor in sleep mode and make entry. Then he’s got to stabilize and open up all his pressure ports to equalize, while the port closes. Finally, he’s got to establish comm over the quantum coupler and synchronize with your interface. Doing all that in less than a minute—“ Frost shook his head in wonderment. “I didn’t think it was possible but here you two are, already proving me wrong.”
“Quite a team, huh, ANAD?”
***Small is all, like you always say***
For the next two weeks, each day was filled with hours of practice and adjustment time. Inside the containment chamber, Johnny routinely launched the ANAD master and commanded varying configs, from a basic replication to more extreme measures, like concealment and entrapment maneuvers, weird molecular shapes, spoofing and banzai-style attacks, even the quantum collapse, where ANAD was commanded to slough off everything but his core processor. Using only entrained quantum entanglement waves to propel himself, the quantum collapse was a drastic escape and evasion tactic that had been used in real combat only a few times, and for good reason.
Frost just shook his head every time Johnny commanded such drastic action. “He’s really not designed for that, Johnny. It stresses the core…one of these days, we’re not going to be able to regenerate ANAD from what’s left.”
Winger shrugged and waited patiently, while what was left of ANAD limped home and slingshot himself into the containment capsule.
***Let’s not do that anymore today, what do you say, Boss? It’s hard work getting anywhere on quantum waves….like using rowboat oars to fly through the air***
“It’s part of our tactical doctrine, Doc. We don’t need it often…but once in awhile, ANAD gets in a tight spot and it’s the only way out. Either that or we lose the master.”
After a full day’s practice, Johnny Winger lay awake at night in his dorm room, head propped on a pillow, thinking.
“Hey, ANAD…I’ve got a question….are you there…?”
***Base, I’m always active in receive mode, if that’s what you mean***
Winger struggled to find the right words. “You worked hard today…really hard. The last several days, I mean. Mind if I ask a question?”
***Fire away***
“I was just wondering…er, what exactly you think about all this. I mean, I didn’t have a choice. You and I…we’ve worked together a lot the last few years…you and your brothers, other versions, I mean. We’ve always had a good relationship…” Jesus Christ, he’s just a mechanism, isn’t he? Or is he?
***I am an autonomous nanoscale system, since you asked. Sentient and aware of my surroundings. Able to act on the environment, able to process information and execute operations to change that environment…able to reproduce and create larger formations…and yes, I have always felt we had a solid relationship. We are a lot alike, you and me, Base. What, really, is so different about us?***
Winger gave that some thought. “Only about a billion meters in scale, that’s all.” He sat up and went to the dorm room window, parting the curtains. Outside, it was snowing lightly, faint flakes flickering down in the yellow street lights, adding to a white coating on the streets and the grassy swards. “ANAD…” how exactly could he say this?—“ANAD, every time I look at things the way you do, every time you divert your sensor feed to my interface—so I see all the atoms and molecules streaming by, feel the Brownian motion…I wonder…what’s it really like to live like that. I mean, that’s your whole life, seeing things I can’t see, sliding and skiing around bumping into oxygen molecules and things I can’t even pronounce. It seems…so different, so weird. Like I’ll never get used to it—you know what I mean?”
For a few moments, there was no reply. Johnny wondered if ANAD were engaged in some kind of housekeeping duty, like purging memory registers or something.
***Base…maybe it’s like this: we do live in different worlds, that much is true. We see and hear and feel different things. But maybe we’re not that different in how we work. My processor is a quantum nanocomputer. Yours is like mine, only bigger. Physically, I’m designed as a base platform and frame with effectors to manipulate my environment. So are you, only bigger. My base and effectors are nothing more than long chains of polypeptides, with fullerene hooks and carbene grabbers. You’re no different…just more atoms and molecules***
“True enough,” he admitted, “but Doc Frost says your processor core is adapted from the genome of certain viruses, with some ribosomal machinery thrown in, married to a quantum state generator.”
***What of it, Base? You’re nothing more than a huge colony of bacteria and viruses yourself***
Winger had trouble admitting what ANAD was telling him. “Sure, we’re made out of the same stuff but hang it, ANAD, it’s the scale that’s different. It makes all the difference in the world. I can’t see atoms and manipulate single molecules, not without your help.”
***And I can’t see buildings and clouds and cities, except indirectly through photon lensing. So what? Nobody can do everything. That’s why we’re partners***
“Symbionts, Doc calls us.” Indeed, Doc Frost had explained the concept as ‘a fusion of two existing, independently evolved organisms into a tightly coupled system, which may in turn become a single organism.’
***I like the sound of brothers better, don’t you?***
“I suppose.” Johnny Winger went back to bed and tried to get some rest. The next few days would bring his initial rehab period to a close. There was to be a final examination in two days, following more tests tomorrow. If that went well, he’d be packing up and heading back to Table Top for further training and sim work, with ANAD inside of him.
He lay there with his eyes closed, but rest and sleep wouldn’t come. Once in awhile, he whispered to ANAD ‘give me just one more peek, will you?’ and the autonomous assembler would link Winger’s visual cortex with his own soundings of the containment capsule. Winger would lie there like a surfer in the waves, letting the wash of uncountable trillions of atoms and molecules roll over him, tossing him about like a twig in a hurricane, just riding and surfing and sliding until he laughed with dizziness and his head spun and his eyes wouldn’t focus on all
the crazy crash of stuff hurtling at him from every direction.
Somehow, without realizing it, Johnny Winger had already begun to think of ANAD as a little brother, a very little brother. Somehow, there was no explaining it, he knew he had to protect the tiny assembler and to do that, he had to know what was out there, threatening the guy, what sort of enemies a little brother who was all of sixty nanometers tall faced.
ANAD wanted to learn, of that he was certain. He’d been slammed with questions practically from the moment he woke up in the morning to the moment he went to sleep. So, he’d teach the fellow, teach him about humans, even as ANAD taught him about what life was like at the scale of atoms.
Doc Frost could call it endosymbiosis, if he wanted to.
Johnny Winger had other words for it…the respect you had for your buddies in the platoon. The trust you had in every nog who’d ever earned the gold sunburst emblem he proudly wore on his lapels. The willingness to put your own life on the line when a buddy came under fire. Respect, trust, protectiveness…love, maybe?
Whatever you called it, 1st Nano couldn’t win battles without it.
He finally managed to drift off to sleep, and when he did, he dreamed of Table Top Mountain, and being back again with his buddies in the unit, swapping lies and chugging beer.
The dream came true at the end of the week, when a short hyperjet hop through the stratosphere put Johnny Winger on the ground at Table Top just after sunset. Doc Frost had pronounced himself satisfied with Johnny’s progress and had even announced that, at Major Kraft’s invitation, he would be coming along.
Kraft ordered Johnny to appear at the battalion headquarters at 1800 hours.
Winger came to the command post and knocked gently on the door jamb. Major Kraft was at his desk, his shiny balding head was bent to some paperwork he’d neglected. He didn’t look up, merely mumbled a raspy “Come” while he swore softly at the commandpad, trying to tidy up a report for the 2000 hours squirt to Division.
“Captain Johnny Winger, sir…reporting as ordered.” Winger hung a salute, holding his arm stiff until Kraft responded perfunctorily.
“Ah…Captain Winger—“ Kraft folded up the c-pad and tucked it in his shirt pocket, then leaned back in his squeaky chair. “Come in. Stand at ease. You don’t look any different to me.”
Winger came into the office and stood before the desk. “Begging the Major’s pardon, sir, but I feel fine. Request assignment to my normal duties with the Company.”
Kraft squinted up at the kid. “You know, Winger, the Corps’ invested a hell of a lot in you. They’ve got a right to expect results. How long were you detailed to this cockamamie scheme at Northgate—“
Winger had kept a precise count. “Forty two days, sir.”
“And the procedure…everything went fine? You’re some kind of nano-Superman now, is that it?”
“No, sir…I have a surgically implanted containment capsule with a resident ANAD master unit, sir. That and a quantum coupler interface for comm and data transfer.”
Kraft shook his head. He stood up and walked around the desk to regard Winger, giving him a skeptical once-over. “If you ask my opinion, this whole hare-brained scheme is a bunch of malarkey. ANADs belong in proper containment, where they can be monitored, repaired, modified easily. Where you can keep an eye on the buggers. Not in some fancy backpack inside a human body, for Chrissakes. Of course, that’s just my opinion.” Not that anyone listens to the battalion commander anymore. The orders for Winger to undergo the procedure had come down from CINCQUANT himself. “So how does it feel now, Captain?”
Winger thought about that. “Like I have two minds, sir. Like there are two people inside me, inhabiting the same body.”
Kraft snorted. “Great. That’s just friggin’ great, Captain. Well, whatever…tomorrow, your little vacation is over. Get your gear unpacked and get squared away at A Barracks. 1st Nano’s starting unit tactical training out on the range. We’re simming all kinds of scenarios, starting with a Big Bang…you and 1st Nano against an opposing force of disassemblers, INDRA-style. I want to see what this new gizmo you’re carrying around can do.”
“Yes, sir. Major Kraft, will SOFIE be handling all the details, sir?”
“That’s affirmative. Be at the sim tank at 0600 hours sharp. We’ll do a little programming, go over the rules of engagement and then head out to the range.”
Winger saluted. “Yes, sir. “ He left the battalion offices and went across the quad grounds to the Barracks to stow his belongings.
In the company squad room, half of 1st Nano was sacked out, playing cards, watching stuff on their vidpods, sorting through equipment.
Corporal “Mighty Mite” Barnes was the first to spot Winger as he came in.
“Well…well…well, boys and girls…looks like we do have a c/o after all.”
Heads snapped around and en masse, the unit came to attention. Winger waved them to ease and dragged his rucksack inside, heading for the dorm rooms. “Evenin’, folks. Just flew in from Northgate—“
“—and boy, are your arms tired, huh?” snorted “Deeno” D’Nunzio. Deeno was Tech Sergeant Marianne D’Nunzio, the company’s CQE1. As a quantum engineer, Deeno was one of the Mr. Fixits of the unit, along with the Ozzie Tsukota, the CQE2.
“You all patched up and copasetic, Captain?” asked Sheila Reaves. Reaves was DPS1, a defense and protective systems specialist. Her nickname was “Lucy,” mostly for the flaming red hair.
“I’m really fine,” Winger insisted. “The procedure went fine, no problems.”
“So let me get this straight,” said Barnes. She sauntered over, sniffed Winger up and down like a dog. “You and ANAD are, like, kissing cousins now. All wrapped up in one package?”
“A Christmas present for the company…how sweet.” That was Sergeant Vic Klimuk, IC1 for 1st Nano. He was another code and stick man, same as Winger, and relatively new to nanoscale combat. But he was a damn good interface control jockey and there were times he could config the pants off any other nog in the outfit, even once in awhile, Captain Winger.
“Really, guys, it’s just me. I haven’t changed at all.” That was a lie and he knew it, but then he was still trying to sort that out.
***What is this, Boss…some kind of frat party?***
Never mind.
“So tell us, Captain--” asked Sergeant Oscar M’Bela, the CEC1. “Witchy” was their numero uno containerization and environmental control specialist. It was his duty to see that ANAD was safe and secure inside the TinyTown pods 1st Nano used…or, at least, it used to be his duty. With the ANAD master unit now resident inside the left shoulder of the c/o, Witchy wasn’t sure just what he’d be doing. “—what was it really like? Like being stung by a million bees?”
“Nothing like that at all,” Winger insisted. He slung his rucksack to the ground and pulled back his shirt, letting the others study the dressing. M’Bela was too curious and cautiously peeled back the dressing.
“Hmmmmm---“ was all he could say. He gingerly touched the capsule port, still thick with dried blood and slightly oozing antiseptic balm. “That hurt?”
“Only when you touch it.”
M’Bela muttered something in his native Swahili and made spirit gestures over the wound. He was like that, proud of his tribal heritage, clannish, protective of ANAD like a ‘little brother.’
“Honestly, fellas, I’m actually the same person I was a month ago. I’ve got an extra hole back there and ANAD’s got a cozy little den to snuggle into. Beyond that…I’m okay and I’m still Johnny Winger.”
Master Sergeant Al Glance was CC2 for 1st Nano, the other command rating who acted as exec for the outfit. He waved M’Bela and Barnes and the others away. “Okay, okay, folks… Cap’n will be signing autographs tomorrow. Give the man some air, why don’t you? Sir, Major Kraft informed us we’d be out on the range tomorrow. Simming scenarios against some
kind of opfor. Know anything about that, sir?”
Winger stowed his rucksack and personal gear in his small cubicle. “Just what the Major told me tonight. He wants to see how ANAD works with this new containment system.”
“So how’d it go at Northgate?” Mighty Mite asked. “You get to work out with ANAD and this new stuff?”
“ANAD hasn’t changed,” Winger said. “Only containment has really changed.”
“Yeah, sir, but don’t you have a newfangled interface too?”
Winger nodded. “Adapted from the quantum coupler we lifted from that Red Hammer guy at Engebbe back when we’re fighting Serengeti Factor. It’s crazy but I can send commands and receive soundings and feedback from ANAD right up here—“ he tapped his head. “No IC panel or anything. Direct coupling…I’m still kinda getting used to it.”
“Isn’t that a little weird…hearing voices like that?” asked Deeno.
M’Bela objected. “What’s so weird about that? The world is full of spirits that speak…the wind and the sky and the mountains. All you have to do is listen.”
“Yeah, right,” groused Deeno. “Spirits speak to me mostly after I’ve had a few too many—“
“Okay, troops, let’s hit the bunks,” Winger ordered. “It’s good to be back but I’m beat. We’ve got to be at the sim tank tomorrow morning at 0600 hours.”
As he fell into his bunk and slid beneath the sheets, Winger wondered just how ANAD would do the next day. Northgate was kindergarten compared to what Major Kraft and SOFIE were likely to throw at them,
Still, ANAD had to be ready. If the implanted and coupled ANAD were going to be as effective in combat situations as deploying from normal containment, the assembler would have to show it for real against the best the sims could offer. Major Kraft had a reputation for tough, realistic training and there would be no slacking off just because ANAD was being deployed a new way.
If anything, ANAD would have to be quicker and more responsive to command than ever before.
***Don’t worry about it, Boss…you and me, we can’t lose…give me the word and I’ll be out there dogging atoms and zapping molecules faster than you can say polypeptide***
Johnny Winger and the Amazon Vector Page 5