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Nellie and the Nanites - Bk2 - Ch.10
🕑 Added 2023-12-28 09:00:03 +0000 UTCChapter 10
A Good Start
“If you return in twenty minutes, the payment will be left in the same place,” Fourteen’s clipped tones sounded from the speakers again.
“Unnecessary,” Sal insisted again. “We have no ill intentions.”
“Necessary,” Admin Fourteen insisted. “We require secure transactions.”
“Unnecessary,” Sal said again. “No operations will be disrupted, and external collections require extraneous measures for facility protection.”
Nellie watched the two argue. Sal held her clipboard and smiled politely as she stood at the bottom of the ramp. At this point, Nellie was convinced that Admin Fourteen was obviously a Synthetic as well. The clipped and slightly off tones suggested that the extras on the model had not been unlocked, or perhaps it was a different model.
Personally, she was happy to operate the same way as last time, but something about it irritated their new crew member. She insisted on coming along to smooth over the inefficiencies.
So far, the two had been arguing for at least a half hour.
“We insist on our methodology,” Admin Fourteen snapped.
“Oh dear, are we losing emotional stability?” Sal smiled. “Perhaps there is a higher model I could converse with?”
“I am the superior model here, Echo!” Fourteen almost growled.
“Really?” Salem sneered. “Then perhaps you require maintenance? You seem to be operating at a lower level than would be expected.”
“You are the inferior model; you must concede the operational parameters of this meeting!” Fourteen snapped again. “I insist!”
“Poor thing,” Sal said to Nellie. “It must not be up to the task assigned. It can happen.” She shrugged, gave a theatrical sigh, and turned back to face the vehicle. “I will concede your operational quirks if you accept that we will need to ask for a superior payment scheme.”
The vehicle rocked back and forth like a fight had broken out inside, or perhaps a synthetic was having a moment of emotional instability.
“We will pay no more than one Delta model unit,” Fourteen growled.
“No,” Sal shook her head, “I think three Gamma models would be fairer.”
“Don’t want a superior model showing you up?” Fourteen laughed. “I will offer two Gamma or three basic units.”
“Two Gamma units,” Sal nodded. “Do try and be prompt.”
While the shuttle hovered in place a couple of miles away, Sal was preening in the co-pilot seat.
“That seemed to be a little less efficient than just taking their payment,” Nellie noted idly.
“Only in the short term,” Sal assured her. “The two Gamma units will more than makeup for it.”
“Okay,” Nellie shrugged and opened a can of HyperDrive. She was more than willing to trust Sal on this one. “What can you tell me about the different models?”
“There is a wide range,” Sal said seriously. “Offering everything from basic labor usage up to and including everything from medical to combat roles. Various command versions are also available.”
“Let me guess,” Nellie grinned, “Fourteen is a command unit?”
“I would assume so,” Salem said stiffly. “The Beta model was always a little twitchy.”
“What was all that about superior models?” Nellie pressed. “She seemed pretty annoyed about that.”
“That is a point of contention,” Sal grumbled, “The different synthetics are designed for different purposes. Some, like Fourteen, and most of the Beta range believe that the higher your model designation…” she adjusted her collar angrily, “...the more superior you are.” She fidgeted with her clipboard. “Others believe fitness for purpose should be the designator of superiority. All models are superior in their chosen field; therefore, we are all equal.”
“You’re the best model for what you do, which makes all the models equal,” Nellie nodded. “Makes sense.”
“Alpha and Beta models feel differently,” Sal grumbled. “They believe that since they were built to control other synthetics, we are all inferior to them.”
“So they are all a bunch of pricks who were born to lead,” Nellie said, shaking her head. “Can’t all synthetics lead others to some extent?”
“Yes,” Sal sighed. “That was a feature added to all models later, but the two original models were built for it.”
“Each model has a specialty?” Nellie asked. “Right?”
“Yes,” Sal smiled, “Alpha is the military command, complete with heavy armor and weapons specialties. Beta is the civilian command. They can easily run whole companies, even small planets, if needed. Charlie is classified. No one knows what they do, but most assume some form of spy. Delta is a combination of the civilian command and security command specializations that are designed to serve the Alpha and Beta commanders.”
“So she tried to give us one of those because they were more likely to defer to her?” Nellie guessed.
“Correct,” Sal grimaced. “Despite personal loyalties, the Delta model has a hard-wired respect for the higher models.”
“Okay, and the rest?” Nellie asked, keeping one eye on the time as they talked.
“Echo models are personal assistants and personnel for multiple roles. We are the most versatile model.” She preened, “ The model F is a shipboard AI system that has no synthetic variant, while the Gamma is designed for heavy industry and security personnel. The H designation is a hybrid or custom build, so it can have aspects of all of the others,” Sal shifted in her seat. “Other synthetics avoid them if they can. It is unsettling. The Legate models are logistics specialists with expertise in flying, driving, and storage solutions. After that, you get into the non-aware models. Lifters, Haulers, Scouts, and so on.”
“What about those basic models Fourteen tried to give us?” Nellie hadn’t heard them mentioned so far.
“Basics, or blanks as we call them, are merely bodies without programming. They are meant as backups in case of damage.” Sal waved at the time. “We should return now.”
As Nellie piloted the craft back towards the landing spot, she was deep in thought. The blanks might actually be handy for them, especially as parts for Lucy to play with.
“It might be worth it to pick up some of those blanks,” Nellie said as they came into land.
“I will get those next time,” Sal smiled. “It will make Fourteen feel like she won something; that way, we can get some Legate models on the following trips.”
“Did you plan that?” Nellie asked.
“Honestly?” Sal looked embarrassed, “No. She just irritated me, so I was stubborn.” She glanced over and Nellie. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Nellie said. “Just give me a hand with our two new crew members.”
“Gladly,” Sal smiled.
===<<<>>>===
Lucy shimmered into the room as Nellie and Sal finished putting together the two new Gamma models. There was a stark difference between these and Sal. For a start, both of them were significantly taller and heavily muscled. They also didn’t include any of the customization options that Sal came with.
“Why do they all have genitals?” Paren asked as she stared at the two obviously male brackta. “Are they all sexbots?”
“Early experiments showed that the synthetics were more readily accepted by those they work with if they were anatomically accurate,” Sal said, smoothly covering both the models to Paren’s obvious irritation. “But yes, we are all capable of sex.”
“Horny synthetics, cool.” Paren laughed and flushed slightly.
“I said capable, not desiring of.” Sal sighed. “We do not experience desire.”
“Oh,” Paren sighed. “That sucks.”
“Moving along,” Nellie said before Lucy could make a joke, “Shall we do the setup for these two?”
“Activating now,” Sal said, and the two drew themselves as their eyes opened.
“Thank you for purchas-” They started.
“Skip,” Lucy said as she placed her hands on her hips. “Can I just short-form all of this?”
“Sure,” Nellie said. “Go for it.”
“Okay, all upgrades unlocked, same personality profile as Salem but with added loyalty levels, assigning control to all of us, control command has been set to Nellie and me, secondary is set to Paren and Sal,” Lucy grinned. “Okay, let’s name these two.” She cocked an eyebrow at the others. “Suggestions?”
“Mario and Luigi?” Nellie offered.
“Hunk and Chunk?” Paren giggled.
“One and Two?” Salem said seriously.
“And not letting any of you name anything from now on,” Lucy turned back to the pair. “Let’s see….” She placed her hand on the left gamma, and his scales darkened. “Designation set as Dar-Ken.” She placed her hand on the other, and the scales became mottled and pale, “Designation set as Vey-Il.” She stepped back and nodded to the others.
“Darken and Veil?” Nellie smirked. “Really?”
“I like it,” Paren grinned.
“See,” Lucy said with a smug smile.
“Fine,” Nellie winked at Lucy. “You get to name these ones, but Paren chooses the next ones.”
“Yay!” Paren grinned. “I’m gonna go start planning!”
Lucy just shook her head and clicked her fingers.
“Uh, Hi!” Dar waved awkwardly.
“Nice scales, mate!” Vey clapped his fellow Gamma on the back. “How do I look?”
“Great!” Dar grinned. “Very spooky.”
“This is how you behave?” Salem glared at the two synthetics.
“Not our fault,” Vey pointed to Lucy. “Boss lady set us up!”
“You chose the extra personality routines?” Sal sighed as she asked Lucy.
“It’s important,” Lucy nodded. “I don’t like restricted AIs.
“Never met a soldier?” Sal asked as the two gammas started to argue over the included uniforms.
“Hey, can we get some more clothes?” Dar asked, trying to hide a ripped shirt behind his back.
“Sure,” Nellie chuckled as Vey-Il fist-bumped with Dar.
“Honestly,” Sal frowned. “Follow me; I’ll see if we have anything to fit you.”
“I’ll make them something custom in a bit,” Lucy called after them before she hopped onto the table and sat down next to Nellie. “What do you think?”
“They seem like a pair of big goofs,” Nellie said. “I take it that was on purpose?”
“Yes,” Lucy said with a satisfied smile. “Paren needs people to laugh at, not be afraid of.”
“They can actually help, though, right?” Nellie wanted to check.
“Very much so.” Lucy’s huge smile would have been confirmation enough. “They have all the advanced fighting skills, detection upgrades, profiling software, you name it. They act like idiots right up until they don’t.”
“Think we can get some of that armor to fit them?” Nellie asked.
“I’ll make changes,” Lucy confirmed.
“Can we make our own version, something that isn’t obviously stolen gear?” Nellie checked.
“I already took care of that,” Lucy gave her a peck on the cheek and vanished.
===<<<>>>===
Crush-Cha was taking a meal break, sitting with his back against the hoverbike, when he heard the explosions. By the time he was on his bike, the sounds of a firefight had joined the early evening air.
Cruising between the largest rocks at the base of the mountain, he moved steadily toward the sounds of battle. Cresting a rise, he dropped off his bike and dashed towards the flashes in the permanent gloom ahead.
A hamlet below him was on fire. Square buildings meant it was a Fed town under attack. They had certainly put that up quickly, Crush noted as he slid to the floor and pulled his rifle from his back.
His scope showed the attackers were trying to push through two gaps in the walls. The Feds were on the walls, shooting back as several heavy shields were pushed into place to block the gaps.
He sighted carefully, choosing the large Fed using the mounted cannon. It was keeping one wing of the attackers pinned down, which was a pity.
The rifle kicked into his shoulder once, and the Fed fell, his head sprouting a new hole just behind the ear.
Crush smiled in the night as his next shot pierced the charge pack on the base.
A new explosion bloomed in the night.
The Feds were panicked, looking around for the telltale flash of a beam, but his old-fashioned rifle used something you almost never saw these days. Solid ammo.
One deep breath, and he fired again, hitting the idiot commanding the Feds from the middle of the street. Did they not tell officers to watch for snipers these days?
The next slug slammed into his second in command, who had rushed out to take over.
Crush-cha rolled away, slamming in another magazine as he searched for a new spot.
Moving every few shots as he worked around the base of the mountain proved wise as the Feds eventually began to blind fire into the ridges.
They missed of course, but it was still close a few times.
By the time the reinforcement shuttle arrived, he was under the cover of a small copse of trees and climbing for a decent sight line.
The shuttle made it to the hamlet before three huge beams fired from the attackers ripped into it and sent it tumbling onto the troops below.
Not that it was all going the attackers’ way.
The Feds were a serious enemy, and they proved that repeatedly. A series of energy mortars tore into the attackers twice, and they did not miss.
Still, with their reinforcement’s demise, the remaining leaders began to call a retreat. They fell back into the hamlet, giving up on the hamlet as a series of short-range emergency pods blasted off from the center of town.
Crush-Cha didn’t try to fire at them.
What was the point of it?
Every soldier worth their salt left the retreating forces alone in the hope that when their time came to run, the other side did the same.
Hearing the loud cheering in the center of the newly conquered hamlet, Crush-Cha dropped from his tree and began to work his way carefully toward what he hoped were friendly forces.
“Who goes?” The yell came from the wall of the still-smoking base.
“Depends,” Crush called back from behind a boulder just barely large enough to hide behind. “You Fed or friendly?”
“Fed or friendly?” The voice sounded amused. “We’re friendly as long as you ain’t Fed.”
“Mind if I come in for a chat?” Crush-Cha called.
“You the sniper we saw take out that wall gun?”
“I am,” Crush confirmed.
“Well, in that case, how about a drink?” The guard laughed. “Was my wife they were shooting at!”
Crush laughed but still stood slowly, his rifle held clearly above his head. The lights that settled on him were blinding, but it didn’t take long for him to be brought inside after that.
They did take his weapons, which he expected, and he made sure they knew he would want them back.
Walking through the blast and beam-marked streets, he was escorted around a still-burning shuttle past a mishmash of troops stripping the Fed bodies of anything useful while others hurried in and out of the buildings with crates loaded with everything from food to papers.
“You the sniper who saved our asses?” A voice called as he was brought into the temporary base camp. It seemed vaguely familiar, but over the din of the looting and celebrating, it took him a moment to figure out why.
“Yeah, that’s me, you clumsy oaf.” Crush-Cha beamed at the back of the large brackta leaning over a map on the table.
“What?” The man spun round and gaped. “Crush!”
“Hey, Brix,” Crush-Cha beamed at his old friend. “I thought you were dead.”
Brix laughed and pulled Crush into a bone-aching hug.
“So I take it I don’t need to guard him anymore?” The man who had escorted Crush asked and was waved off to join the looting.
“Damn, Crush,” Brix said when he finally put him down. “It’s bloody good to see you. I heard that you died.”
“I didn’t think they would let me out if I was alive,” Crush laughed. “How did you get out?”
“Prit turned me over to the damn Feds.” Brix grimaced. “When they were done, they chucked me out into the boonies and called it a day.”
“Why didn’t they kill you?” Crush asked. “Why bother to dump you?”
“I was deemed to be low risk as I wasn’t military,” Brix grinned. “Think they might regret that now; what do you reckon?”
“And this lot?” Crush motioned to the soldiers running around.
“Survivors of the command ship, plus a few we picked up along the way.” Brix shrugged. “They were all low rank or non-combat, but I figure they are doing pretty well so far.”
“Want a hand?” Crush-Cha asked.
“Please,” Brix laughed, and then stage whispered to Crush, “I’m making this shit up as I go.”
“Great, I’ll just go grab my hoverbike, and then I’m ready to go,” Crush made for the door.
“A hoverbike?” Brix hurried after him. “Can I have a go?”
