Nanobots, Murder, and Other Family Problems

I think I finally found it. It isn’t obvious. Someone who learned to program in the seventies probably wrote it because this section of the code is littered with variables with crappy three letter names that probably only ever meant anything to the author. Minimal comments, and right near the hardware abstraction layer. The rest of the codebase was so nice. Why did the stuff I need have to live in the deepest dungeon of SynTech’s code castle?

I try to rip out the parts that receive Father’s command code and let him shut down the bots, but without knowing exactly what the command packet looks like, I can’t trace through the software to get to where the magic that disables the cloud lives. It’s like trying to follow a single noodle through a bowl of ramen without pulling it out or rippling the broth. I spend hours searching and failing to find his failsafe, but with every change I make to try to diagnose his shutdown powers, I break ten new things.

Dammit.

This isn’t the dungeon, this is the foundation, and any crack I put into it will leave my cloud useless. I finally give up and revert everything to the way it was, only adding a contingent function so that if the shutdown is ever targeted at me, I’ll be able to capture the command packet and prevent it from hitting me twice.

I open my eyes and turn my senses back on. It’s past curfew. The cramps in my legs remind me that I’ve been sitting here in the computer lab all day, then my stomach reminds me that I should have eaten something since dinner last night. My feet tingle as I stand, pins and needles jumping all over. I send a contingent of bots massaging down my legs, easing the nerves and stimulating blood flow. The prickles quickly subside.

Outside now, I swing by the cafeteria, hoping to sneak something from the snack fridge, but the doors are locked and the lights are off. I could break in without too much trouble, but I don’t know where the alarms are, and the last thing I want is to explain to anyone why I haven’t eaten all day.

My stomach grumbles again.

Hmmm, does the construction library have anything for a situation like this?

Haha, yeah it does. Something the documentation refers to as “almost pure glucose, aerated for texture.” There aren’t a lot of other food options in the construction library, so I might as well give it a go.

BUILD(CANDY)

I hold my hand out, and the bots construct a white, chalky-looking bar that could pass for candy if you don’t look too closely. I don’t want to know where the bots got the building blocks for it, so I don’t let my mind wander to the garbage bins which are certainly the easiest source of simple carbohydrates around here. The manual says the sugar is purified during construction and makes a special note that it’s definitely safe to eat. How reassuring.

I bite in. It’s stiff, but not rock-hard. Biting into it makes me think of packing foam made of cotton candy. Way too sweet. Not that I expected anything great from bot-printed food, but we should be able to do better than this.

With my stomach mollified, if not satisfied, I head to the dorms. The big doors are locked, but I slip some bots under the door and push the handle from the other side, releasing the latch. I’m surprised the lights are on in the common room at this hour. The place is clear except for the silent shape of a young woman sitting on one of the couches contemplating a blank TV screen. As she hears my footsteps, Andrea turns her head and looks at me. She’s back from the medical wing a day early. I hope that’s a good sign.

“Hey, you’re out. How did things go? Everything all right?” I ask as I step over and take the seat on the opposite corner of her couch.

She gives me a forced-looking smile before the listless expression returns to her face. The last time I saw her looking this down was the day we all agreed to kill Father.

“Are you OK?”

She shrugs.

“Did something go wrong? Are you hurt? Implant problems?” New chapters come out on novelceо.com first.

She shakes her head.

“Want to talk about it?” I prod. “Something’s eating you, I can see that.”

Her hand lifts and her fingers twist, but nothing appears. She gives the air between us a dark glare and rolls her eyes.

“Ah, the new interface broke all of your old controls, huh.”

She nods sadly.

“So no more holograms until you get recalibrated?”

Another nod.

“You could always try talking again.” I suggest. “Father says you should be able to.”

She shakes her head, eyeing me as if I had suggested she eat a bug.