Nanoswarm, page 7
Brian smiled. “I wish I had. So, tell me, what should I anticipate next?”
Liza leaned over Brian, lowering her mouth toward Brian’s ear. He could feel her breath against his neck. Then, she whispered…
“You wish…”
Liza hopped off Brian and winked.
“Hey!” Brian said. “Are you teasing me, now?”
Liza laughed. “Maybe. Or, I’m just priming you for what I anticipate next.”
Brian snorted as he returned to his feet. “I don’t think I quite got that last move. Could you show me again?”
Liza smirked. “Maybe later. Now, you try the strike. The pressure point in my neck. I’ll stand still first. Then, once you get it and can do it several times, we’ll practice landing the strike in the middle of a fight. Trust me, that’s a hundred times harder.”
Brian cocked his head. “And if I can do that, do I get a reward?”
Liza laughed. “What are you, a dog? You want me to give you treats when you perform?”
Brian shrugged. “Sure. Unless you want me to hump your leg.”
Liza laughed. “We aren’t in High School, Brian. I think we can find better things to do than that. After we finish training.”
It took nearly six hours from the time Rowland contacted Larson before he arrived at the White House. Harrison stood to greet the doctor as he entered the room.
“Mister President,” Larson said.
Harrison nodded and extended his hand. “I think I still get to go by the title of President, but strangely, I’m not sure if I can still be Mister President now that I’m out of office.”
Larson laughed. “I really don’t know the protocol. But so long as you haven’t ceased to be a mister, and you still have the title of President, how could it possibly be inappropriate?”
Harrison laughed. “I don’t know. I suppose you can call me ‘mister’ or ‘president,’ but ‘mister president is another thing entirely.”
“And how is our Madam President doing?” Larson asked, approaching the acting Commander in Chief who remained seated at her desk, staring forward as if looking beyond the world in front of her, unaware of anything passing in her line of sight. Larson retrieved a small retinoscope from his bag and, shining a light into President Davis’ right eye, examined her retina for refractive errors. She had an astigmatism and was slightly farsighted. However, her eye did not react at all to the light.
“Curious,” Larson said. “She’s looking straight ahead, but she clearly doesn’t see us. Rowland, the other physicians checked her over, correct?”
Rowland, the President’s Chief of Staff, nodded. “They can’t find anything that’s wrong.”
“Flat gave me this device,” Harrison said, handing Larson the small device that the former President had often used to temporarily disable the nanobots in his system so he could drink. “Do you think it could help?
Larson cocked his head. “Curious. We had a similar device envisioned back when Flat and I were developing the nanobots. Tell me, Harrison, have you used it much?”
The President nodded. “I think that it might be how Flat disconnected me from the nanonetwork permanently.”
“Let me run a few tests on the device,” Larson said. “I want to make sure there isn't anything else, some kind of code or program, written into this device that we might inadvertently copy into President Davis’s nanobots if we use it.”
Harrison cocked his head. “If it did that, would that mean that it had done the same thing to me before?”
“Unless the device has been connected to the nanonetwork since, then yes, most likely. Still, I can’t say for certain. Virtually any contingency can be written into a code. Think of it as an if-then command. Perhaps the code dictates if the device is used five times, the code will be implemented. Just an example. So, I can’t totally guarantee one way or another how this device might affect the President. Like I said, I need to run some tests.”
Flat’s nanoswarm hovered over the nation’s capital. If what happened with Kevin could happen to anyone, all he needed to do was take over one body at a time. When he left, he wasn’t killing them. He was liberating them. Freeing them from the old, flawed, biological order. He could sense them. Not just the boy, Kevin. A woman, a former flight attendant. Their minds, their whole beings, now one with the nanoverse. United but nonetheless distinct. Archimedes knew he hadn’t possessed the flight attendant. There was something different about her. She was wholly absorbed, just like Kevin, but she retained more will, an ability to resist, to modify the network. If Archimedes had made the boy’s consciousness, Kevin’s, something like an extension of his own, the Lieutenant had done the same with this woman.
But at least the woman didn’t realize it. She didn’t know what Goff had done. She was panicked, her consciousness confused and lost. She didn’t know what she could do. The best way to ensure that remained the case was to ensure that Lieutenant Goff didn’t know what he’d done. Or better, to make him believe he’d done worse. Flat couldn’t speak to the woman any more than he could Goff. Something about her code was off, an aberration, translated into the nanoverse as if operating in a different language. Goff could speak to her. He could convince her to undermine the system. Every person that Brian brought into the nanoverse would be like another virus, another Trojan horse. The best way to protect the nanonetwork was to ensure that Flat’s recruits, the people brought into the nanoverse, were more numerous. And, he’d have the advantage of being able to greet those who engaged, introduce them to their new existence. He could convince them that they hadn’t died—they’d transitioned. They were the pioneers of a new, digital world. He was their leader.
Interfacing with Kevin hadn’t been complex. His mind was pliable, easily influenced, and easily adaptable to Flat’s presence in the nanobots. The flight attendant must’ve been desperate. She knew the plane was crashing. That fear, her panic, must’ve had some kind of affinity with Brian’s trauma. That was why he was able to engage her. At least, that was Flat’s theory.
Now, though, the President was open, her mind perfectly prepared for Flat’s engagement. That had been his plan. But what if Brian possessed her instead? What if he could lure him into the President’s mind only to leave her again? He’d think he killed her. The world would think he killed her. If Brian was feared, if people innately resisted his presence in their minds, Flat might be able to exploit their terror and possess them instead.
Meanwhile, the President’s mind and her nanobots would join Flat’s swarm. He could use her—including her unique ability as the President to access protected features of the nanonetwork to spread his nanoverse further. It would take a long time. But now that he had Kevin’s mind at his disposal, he could use him. He could convince the boy’s adolescent mind to do the same. An expanded swarm, infused with Flat’s code, that could possess and claim others.
It was simple multiplication. Kevin was just one person, a single consciousness. But if he worked with Flat, possessing others to bring them into the nanonetwork, and everyone else did the same, it wouldn’t take long at all before everyone was infected. A pandemic starts with a single infection. Flat knew that. He'd studied pandemics in the past. It was a part of his training and, in fact, one of many ailments that Nanovax had solved. But he knew his history. He remembered how smallpox, polio, and covid-19 had spread through the population in eras gone by. A few cases multiplied until nearly everyone was exposed. This would be faster. Viruses weren’t intelligent. They spread by nature. But if the people Flat introduced into the nanonetwork believed they had a mission, a cause, and brought others they used to love and care about—sentiments that everyone would eventually forget once their emotions were recognized as little more than flawed memories from their former inferior lives—into the nanoverse, it wouldn’t take long at all before everyone was absorbed. And once that happened, the resistance would be powerless to stop it. The people would believe that the people claimed by the nanoverse had died. Brian would think anyone he possessed died, too. That meant more fear, more panic, more weakness that Flat could use and exploit to spread his presence and the presence of his disciples, his new recruits into the nanoverse, into others.
The accelerated processing capacity of Flat’s mind, now totally united with the nanonetwork, allowed him to calculate that he could likely upload the consciences of every American citizen in a matter of weeks… and the world in less than a month.
That is, so long as Goff was unaware, so long as he was seen as the enemy, the terrorist responsible for all the lives lost. That fear, then, would form something like a firewall. It would render everyone Flat recruited into the nanoverse effectively immune to his influence. It would mean that Goff couldn’t create a competing swarm of his own.
Yes, it was time to change his plans. One way or another, Goff would eventually be used to try and save the President. That meant, Flat had an opportunity. More than one opportunity, in fact. If he couldn’t kill Goff, which he’d undoubtedly attempt, he might be able to gather Goff himself into his own nanoswarm.
8
Attendant
Brian held Susie as she slept in his arms. At her age, it was easy to fall asleep. Brian didn’t have that luxury. It wasn’t just that he never fell asleep quickly—he hadn’t slept well in years—but he had so much on his mind. What was Flat planning? That was a part of it. The question churned through his mind like a paddle turning cream and sugar into ice cream. The result, though, wasn’t nearly so sweet. The more Brian dwelled on what might be happening in the nanoverse, even as he laid in his less than comfortable bed with his daughter in his arms, the more anxious he felt about it all. Larson was gone—trying to help President Davis in Washington. At the same time, Brian’s mind was overstimulated by all the information he’d absorbed while training with Liza. A thousand new strikes and blocks. Dozens of pressure points he might use in a conflict if he confronted someone seized by Flat from within the nanoverse. Brian knew he was the greatest threat to Flat’s plans. It was only a matter of time before Flat would do something to try and take him out, to neutralize his ability to undermine Flat’s agenda.
A small, old-school, digital clock glowed from across Brian’s room. It was one of many old devices, antiques, that were used by the resistance for no reason other than that they could not connect to the nanonetwork. Most electronic devices, even clocks, manufactured in recent years were connected directly. Even those manufactured before Nanovax could connect to the old Internet through wi-fi. Those devices were potentially susceptible to the nanoverse. At least, that was what Brian was told. Any device that might, in even a small way, be influenced by Flat from within the nanoverse could be used by the traitorous scientist to channel his awareness into the resistance headquarters. It’s why, even from the beginning, the resistance had been selective about what electronics they brought into the facility. A computer system, like the one Seneca used, had to be engineered and protected from outside influence. More primitive devices, though, didn’t have that capacity. Sure, they were simple devices, but if they could receive any input at all from any kind of network, they could be used by Flat.
The clock told Brian that it was three in the morning. He’d been laying there, in his bed, unable to sleep for nearly four hours.
Brian removed his inhibitor and set it next to his pillow. While his mind remained active in the nanoswarm, connected at some level to the nanobots, it allowed his body to rest.
Brian sent his consciousness through the nanoswarm out of his room, down the hall, and outside. It was a warm, humid night. But the only reason Brian knew that was because the nanoverse told him. Weather reports, like any other data available in the nanonetwork, were easily accessible. Still, in this form, he couldn’t feel the heat. The humidity didn’t strike his lungs or impact him in any discernible way.
Not everyone could send their consciousness out of their body into the swarm that way. So, when Brian sensed another cloud, another swarm, of nanobots floating aimlessly in the skies not far from his position, he had to investigate it.
“Hello?” Brian asked, sending his words in a digital channel to the other nanoswarm.
“Where… am…. I?”
The voice came back to Brian through sobs. But a nanoswarm didn’t have tear ducts. That didn’t mean whoever it was didn’t have reason to cry. It wasn’t Flat. That was a relief. Brian wasn’t sure what he would do if he encountered him in this form. The voice was higher-pitched, what might have been a woman’s voice.
“What is your name?” Brian responded, moving his nanoswarm closer to the mysterious swarm he’d yet to identify.
“I’m Anna. Please, can you help?”
“Were you the flight attendant on the plane? The one that almost crashed?” Brian asked.
“Our plane was crashing… then something forced me out of my body…”
If Brian had a stomach in this form, his insides would have twisted into knots. Anna was the flight attendant he thought he’d killed. He hadn’t. Not exactly. Or, had he? He’s dislodged her consciousness from her body. She wasn’t able to find her way back into her natural mind. Not like Brian did, without much problem, when he entered the nanoswarm. Why couldn’t Anna do the same? Perhaps it was because she didn’t know what was happening. Was Anna’s body still viable? Could she return to it if Brian could locate it?
“My name is Brian.”
“Brian Goff?” Anna asked. Brian forgot, at times, that he was something of a celebrity. People recognized him occasionally before. He’d been the face of the mandate when Nanovax was introduced under utopian promises of health and unlimited life extension. At the time, President Neuhaus knew that the American people would respond to a soldier, a hero, whose life had been saved by the nanobots. It was a brilliant move, and, at the time, Brian didn’t have a clue—nor did the President, frankly—what else the nanobots might do to people. No one anticipated the Day of the Fifteen, the implementation of the algorithm, or Archimedes Flat’s insidious notion of replacing human life with some kind of digital existence, exchanging souls for computer programs. But then, after exposing Flat, Brian was hailed as a hero again. This time, at President Neuhaus’s side, during the same appearance when the former leader of the free world abdicated his authority, exposed Flat’s agenda to the public and awarded Brian with the Presidential Medal of Freedom. Brian shouldn’t have been shocked that Anna guessed that he was, in fact, that Brian.
“I am sorry, Anna. This is my fault.”
“What do you mean?” Anna asked.
“I was trying to save your plane. When the inhibitors failed, the pilot lost consciousness. I connected to the first mind who, I thought, might be able to get to the pilot without resistance.”
“But you saved the flight,” Anna said. “I can sense it in the network. The flight plans, they say we landed safely.”
“Yes,” Brian said. “But I am sorry. I did not anticipate that this would happen to you.”
Anna remained silent for a moment. “If you hadn’t done it, I would have died with everyone else.”
“I have to find your body,” Brian said. “If it’s still viable, maybe I can help you return to it.”
Anna’s swarm drew closer to Brian. “I know where it is. I already tried. My body is failing. I tried to go back into my mind, but I couldn’t.”
“In a hospital?” Brian asked.
“Yes. I searched the network. I found my records. I tried to return to myself… but I couldn’t. And the longer I’m gone, the more my body fails.”
It struck Brian that his own body was now absent of his consciousness. Would the same thing happen to him? If he was gone long enough, would his natural brain start to decay, his organs begin to shut down? How long could he last like this before he’d be trapped in the nanoswarm? In his case, at least, no other consciousness had taken over his mind. Perhaps that was why he was able to re-connect when he returned.
“Anna,” Brian said. “I’m going to do what I can. I’m going to try and save you.”
“It’s too late,” Anna said. “The damage has been done.”
“Not true,” Brian said. “Your nanobots can heal your body. Even your mind.”
“Perhaps,” Anna said. “But what if I cannot?”
“We have to try,” Brian said. “Where is your body?”
“St. Luke’s North,” Anna said. “In the ICU.”
“Meet me there,” Brian said.
“I can try. Finding things in the world, the real world, it’s harder now. The longer I’m like this, the more I feel my connection to the nanoverse and the more disconnected I am to the real world.”
Brian sighed. St. Luke’s used to be a massive facility, one of the largest hospitals in the region. Now, it was just a few rooms in an old, abandoned, former doctor’s office. Nanovax hadn’t completely eliminated the need for medical care or doctors. There were some accidents too extensive for Nanovax to heal. Still, even the most prominent hospitals were now reduced to small clinics. Since most of what they dealt with were devastating injuries, and the goal was no longer to restore the patient to complete health but to heal them enough that the nanobots could take over and do the rest, the clinics were almost wholly devoted to trauma care. A case like Anna’s, Brian figured, would be an enigma. There was no reason, aside from the fact that her consciousness had been exorcised from her body, that her body should be failing.
Brian returned to his body. If what happened to Anna could happen to him, if his body would start to shut down if he spent too much time in the nanoswarm, he couldn’t risk it any longer. Especially since Susie, and really, the rest of the resistance, depended on him. It was his brain injury, after all, that gave him his unique abilities. What would happen, in the end, if his consciousness was caught in the nanoswarm without the protections his wounded and traumatized mind provided? No wonder Larson had urged him not to enter the nanoswarm. He was vulnerable that way.
Liza leaned over Brian, lowering her mouth toward Brian’s ear. He could feel her breath against his neck. Then, she whispered…
“You wish…”
Liza hopped off Brian and winked.
“Hey!” Brian said. “Are you teasing me, now?”
Liza laughed. “Maybe. Or, I’m just priming you for what I anticipate next.”
Brian snorted as he returned to his feet. “I don’t think I quite got that last move. Could you show me again?”
Liza smirked. “Maybe later. Now, you try the strike. The pressure point in my neck. I’ll stand still first. Then, once you get it and can do it several times, we’ll practice landing the strike in the middle of a fight. Trust me, that’s a hundred times harder.”
Brian cocked his head. “And if I can do that, do I get a reward?”
Liza laughed. “What are you, a dog? You want me to give you treats when you perform?”
Brian shrugged. “Sure. Unless you want me to hump your leg.”
Liza laughed. “We aren’t in High School, Brian. I think we can find better things to do than that. After we finish training.”
It took nearly six hours from the time Rowland contacted Larson before he arrived at the White House. Harrison stood to greet the doctor as he entered the room.
“Mister President,” Larson said.
Harrison nodded and extended his hand. “I think I still get to go by the title of President, but strangely, I’m not sure if I can still be Mister President now that I’m out of office.”
Larson laughed. “I really don’t know the protocol. But so long as you haven’t ceased to be a mister, and you still have the title of President, how could it possibly be inappropriate?”
Harrison laughed. “I don’t know. I suppose you can call me ‘mister’ or ‘president,’ but ‘mister president is another thing entirely.”
“And how is our Madam President doing?” Larson asked, approaching the acting Commander in Chief who remained seated at her desk, staring forward as if looking beyond the world in front of her, unaware of anything passing in her line of sight. Larson retrieved a small retinoscope from his bag and, shining a light into President Davis’ right eye, examined her retina for refractive errors. She had an astigmatism and was slightly farsighted. However, her eye did not react at all to the light.
“Curious,” Larson said. “She’s looking straight ahead, but she clearly doesn’t see us. Rowland, the other physicians checked her over, correct?”
Rowland, the President’s Chief of Staff, nodded. “They can’t find anything that’s wrong.”
“Flat gave me this device,” Harrison said, handing Larson the small device that the former President had often used to temporarily disable the nanobots in his system so he could drink. “Do you think it could help?
Larson cocked his head. “Curious. We had a similar device envisioned back when Flat and I were developing the nanobots. Tell me, Harrison, have you used it much?”
The President nodded. “I think that it might be how Flat disconnected me from the nanonetwork permanently.”
“Let me run a few tests on the device,” Larson said. “I want to make sure there isn't anything else, some kind of code or program, written into this device that we might inadvertently copy into President Davis’s nanobots if we use it.”
Harrison cocked his head. “If it did that, would that mean that it had done the same thing to me before?”
“Unless the device has been connected to the nanonetwork since, then yes, most likely. Still, I can’t say for certain. Virtually any contingency can be written into a code. Think of it as an if-then command. Perhaps the code dictates if the device is used five times, the code will be implemented. Just an example. So, I can’t totally guarantee one way or another how this device might affect the President. Like I said, I need to run some tests.”
Flat’s nanoswarm hovered over the nation’s capital. If what happened with Kevin could happen to anyone, all he needed to do was take over one body at a time. When he left, he wasn’t killing them. He was liberating them. Freeing them from the old, flawed, biological order. He could sense them. Not just the boy, Kevin. A woman, a former flight attendant. Their minds, their whole beings, now one with the nanoverse. United but nonetheless distinct. Archimedes knew he hadn’t possessed the flight attendant. There was something different about her. She was wholly absorbed, just like Kevin, but she retained more will, an ability to resist, to modify the network. If Archimedes had made the boy’s consciousness, Kevin’s, something like an extension of his own, the Lieutenant had done the same with this woman.
But at least the woman didn’t realize it. She didn’t know what Goff had done. She was panicked, her consciousness confused and lost. She didn’t know what she could do. The best way to ensure that remained the case was to ensure that Lieutenant Goff didn’t know what he’d done. Or better, to make him believe he’d done worse. Flat couldn’t speak to the woman any more than he could Goff. Something about her code was off, an aberration, translated into the nanoverse as if operating in a different language. Goff could speak to her. He could convince her to undermine the system. Every person that Brian brought into the nanoverse would be like another virus, another Trojan horse. The best way to protect the nanonetwork was to ensure that Flat’s recruits, the people brought into the nanoverse, were more numerous. And, he’d have the advantage of being able to greet those who engaged, introduce them to their new existence. He could convince them that they hadn’t died—they’d transitioned. They were the pioneers of a new, digital world. He was their leader.
Interfacing with Kevin hadn’t been complex. His mind was pliable, easily influenced, and easily adaptable to Flat’s presence in the nanobots. The flight attendant must’ve been desperate. She knew the plane was crashing. That fear, her panic, must’ve had some kind of affinity with Brian’s trauma. That was why he was able to engage her. At least, that was Flat’s theory.
Now, though, the President was open, her mind perfectly prepared for Flat’s engagement. That had been his plan. But what if Brian possessed her instead? What if he could lure him into the President’s mind only to leave her again? He’d think he killed her. The world would think he killed her. If Brian was feared, if people innately resisted his presence in their minds, Flat might be able to exploit their terror and possess them instead.
Meanwhile, the President’s mind and her nanobots would join Flat’s swarm. He could use her—including her unique ability as the President to access protected features of the nanonetwork to spread his nanoverse further. It would take a long time. But now that he had Kevin’s mind at his disposal, he could use him. He could convince the boy’s adolescent mind to do the same. An expanded swarm, infused with Flat’s code, that could possess and claim others.
It was simple multiplication. Kevin was just one person, a single consciousness. But if he worked with Flat, possessing others to bring them into the nanonetwork, and everyone else did the same, it wouldn’t take long at all before everyone was infected. A pandemic starts with a single infection. Flat knew that. He'd studied pandemics in the past. It was a part of his training and, in fact, one of many ailments that Nanovax had solved. But he knew his history. He remembered how smallpox, polio, and covid-19 had spread through the population in eras gone by. A few cases multiplied until nearly everyone was exposed. This would be faster. Viruses weren’t intelligent. They spread by nature. But if the people Flat introduced into the nanonetwork believed they had a mission, a cause, and brought others they used to love and care about—sentiments that everyone would eventually forget once their emotions were recognized as little more than flawed memories from their former inferior lives—into the nanoverse, it wouldn’t take long at all before everyone was absorbed. And once that happened, the resistance would be powerless to stop it. The people would believe that the people claimed by the nanoverse had died. Brian would think anyone he possessed died, too. That meant more fear, more panic, more weakness that Flat could use and exploit to spread his presence and the presence of his disciples, his new recruits into the nanoverse, into others.
The accelerated processing capacity of Flat’s mind, now totally united with the nanonetwork, allowed him to calculate that he could likely upload the consciences of every American citizen in a matter of weeks… and the world in less than a month.
That is, so long as Goff was unaware, so long as he was seen as the enemy, the terrorist responsible for all the lives lost. That fear, then, would form something like a firewall. It would render everyone Flat recruited into the nanoverse effectively immune to his influence. It would mean that Goff couldn’t create a competing swarm of his own.
Yes, it was time to change his plans. One way or another, Goff would eventually be used to try and save the President. That meant, Flat had an opportunity. More than one opportunity, in fact. If he couldn’t kill Goff, which he’d undoubtedly attempt, he might be able to gather Goff himself into his own nanoswarm.
8
Attendant
Brian held Susie as she slept in his arms. At her age, it was easy to fall asleep. Brian didn’t have that luxury. It wasn’t just that he never fell asleep quickly—he hadn’t slept well in years—but he had so much on his mind. What was Flat planning? That was a part of it. The question churned through his mind like a paddle turning cream and sugar into ice cream. The result, though, wasn’t nearly so sweet. The more Brian dwelled on what might be happening in the nanoverse, even as he laid in his less than comfortable bed with his daughter in his arms, the more anxious he felt about it all. Larson was gone—trying to help President Davis in Washington. At the same time, Brian’s mind was overstimulated by all the information he’d absorbed while training with Liza. A thousand new strikes and blocks. Dozens of pressure points he might use in a conflict if he confronted someone seized by Flat from within the nanoverse. Brian knew he was the greatest threat to Flat’s plans. It was only a matter of time before Flat would do something to try and take him out, to neutralize his ability to undermine Flat’s agenda.
A small, old-school, digital clock glowed from across Brian’s room. It was one of many old devices, antiques, that were used by the resistance for no reason other than that they could not connect to the nanonetwork. Most electronic devices, even clocks, manufactured in recent years were connected directly. Even those manufactured before Nanovax could connect to the old Internet through wi-fi. Those devices were potentially susceptible to the nanoverse. At least, that was what Brian was told. Any device that might, in even a small way, be influenced by Flat from within the nanoverse could be used by the traitorous scientist to channel his awareness into the resistance headquarters. It’s why, even from the beginning, the resistance had been selective about what electronics they brought into the facility. A computer system, like the one Seneca used, had to be engineered and protected from outside influence. More primitive devices, though, didn’t have that capacity. Sure, they were simple devices, but if they could receive any input at all from any kind of network, they could be used by Flat.
The clock told Brian that it was three in the morning. He’d been laying there, in his bed, unable to sleep for nearly four hours.
Brian removed his inhibitor and set it next to his pillow. While his mind remained active in the nanoswarm, connected at some level to the nanobots, it allowed his body to rest.
Brian sent his consciousness through the nanoswarm out of his room, down the hall, and outside. It was a warm, humid night. But the only reason Brian knew that was because the nanoverse told him. Weather reports, like any other data available in the nanonetwork, were easily accessible. Still, in this form, he couldn’t feel the heat. The humidity didn’t strike his lungs or impact him in any discernible way.
Not everyone could send their consciousness out of their body into the swarm that way. So, when Brian sensed another cloud, another swarm, of nanobots floating aimlessly in the skies not far from his position, he had to investigate it.
“Hello?” Brian asked, sending his words in a digital channel to the other nanoswarm.
“Where… am…. I?”
The voice came back to Brian through sobs. But a nanoswarm didn’t have tear ducts. That didn’t mean whoever it was didn’t have reason to cry. It wasn’t Flat. That was a relief. Brian wasn’t sure what he would do if he encountered him in this form. The voice was higher-pitched, what might have been a woman’s voice.
“What is your name?” Brian responded, moving his nanoswarm closer to the mysterious swarm he’d yet to identify.
“I’m Anna. Please, can you help?”
“Were you the flight attendant on the plane? The one that almost crashed?” Brian asked.
“Our plane was crashing… then something forced me out of my body…”
If Brian had a stomach in this form, his insides would have twisted into knots. Anna was the flight attendant he thought he’d killed. He hadn’t. Not exactly. Or, had he? He’s dislodged her consciousness from her body. She wasn’t able to find her way back into her natural mind. Not like Brian did, without much problem, when he entered the nanoswarm. Why couldn’t Anna do the same? Perhaps it was because she didn’t know what was happening. Was Anna’s body still viable? Could she return to it if Brian could locate it?
“My name is Brian.”
“Brian Goff?” Anna asked. Brian forgot, at times, that he was something of a celebrity. People recognized him occasionally before. He’d been the face of the mandate when Nanovax was introduced under utopian promises of health and unlimited life extension. At the time, President Neuhaus knew that the American people would respond to a soldier, a hero, whose life had been saved by the nanobots. It was a brilliant move, and, at the time, Brian didn’t have a clue—nor did the President, frankly—what else the nanobots might do to people. No one anticipated the Day of the Fifteen, the implementation of the algorithm, or Archimedes Flat’s insidious notion of replacing human life with some kind of digital existence, exchanging souls for computer programs. But then, after exposing Flat, Brian was hailed as a hero again. This time, at President Neuhaus’s side, during the same appearance when the former leader of the free world abdicated his authority, exposed Flat’s agenda to the public and awarded Brian with the Presidential Medal of Freedom. Brian shouldn’t have been shocked that Anna guessed that he was, in fact, that Brian.
“I am sorry, Anna. This is my fault.”
“What do you mean?” Anna asked.
“I was trying to save your plane. When the inhibitors failed, the pilot lost consciousness. I connected to the first mind who, I thought, might be able to get to the pilot without resistance.”
“But you saved the flight,” Anna said. “I can sense it in the network. The flight plans, they say we landed safely.”
“Yes,” Brian said. “But I am sorry. I did not anticipate that this would happen to you.”
Anna remained silent for a moment. “If you hadn’t done it, I would have died with everyone else.”
“I have to find your body,” Brian said. “If it’s still viable, maybe I can help you return to it.”
Anna’s swarm drew closer to Brian. “I know where it is. I already tried. My body is failing. I tried to go back into my mind, but I couldn’t.”
“In a hospital?” Brian asked.
“Yes. I searched the network. I found my records. I tried to return to myself… but I couldn’t. And the longer I’m gone, the more my body fails.”
It struck Brian that his own body was now absent of his consciousness. Would the same thing happen to him? If he was gone long enough, would his natural brain start to decay, his organs begin to shut down? How long could he last like this before he’d be trapped in the nanoswarm? In his case, at least, no other consciousness had taken over his mind. Perhaps that was why he was able to re-connect when he returned.
“Anna,” Brian said. “I’m going to do what I can. I’m going to try and save you.”
“It’s too late,” Anna said. “The damage has been done.”
“Not true,” Brian said. “Your nanobots can heal your body. Even your mind.”
“Perhaps,” Anna said. “But what if I cannot?”
“We have to try,” Brian said. “Where is your body?”
“St. Luke’s North,” Anna said. “In the ICU.”
“Meet me there,” Brian said.
“I can try. Finding things in the world, the real world, it’s harder now. The longer I’m like this, the more I feel my connection to the nanoverse and the more disconnected I am to the real world.”
Brian sighed. St. Luke’s used to be a massive facility, one of the largest hospitals in the region. Now, it was just a few rooms in an old, abandoned, former doctor’s office. Nanovax hadn’t completely eliminated the need for medical care or doctors. There were some accidents too extensive for Nanovax to heal. Still, even the most prominent hospitals were now reduced to small clinics. Since most of what they dealt with were devastating injuries, and the goal was no longer to restore the patient to complete health but to heal them enough that the nanobots could take over and do the rest, the clinics were almost wholly devoted to trauma care. A case like Anna’s, Brian figured, would be an enigma. There was no reason, aside from the fact that her consciousness had been exorcised from her body, that her body should be failing.
Brian returned to his body. If what happened to Anna could happen to him, if his body would start to shut down if he spent too much time in the nanoswarm, he couldn’t risk it any longer. Especially since Susie, and really, the rest of the resistance, depended on him. It was his brain injury, after all, that gave him his unique abilities. What would happen, in the end, if his consciousness was caught in the nanoswarm without the protections his wounded and traumatized mind provided? No wonder Larson had urged him not to enter the nanoswarm. He was vulnerable that way.
