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Authors: Matthew Newhall

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fantasy, #Fiction

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BOOK: Thicker Than Blood
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"Thank God," Joe exclaimed. Lucy sighed, "Good than we can talk about this now." "He knows." Mark said. "He is at the shop trying to bring them to life." Joe and Lucy looked at one another. He reached up and held Mark's shoulders, "Why did you tell him?" "He's cool," Mark uttered. Joe couldn't even tell if Mark believed himself. Lucy and Joe stared at Mark. After pausing a for a second, Mark turned to Joe. "I know you guys don't trust Amman. He's pretty mysterious about things we share, but I believe he is a good-hearted guy. We would have been up the creek without his knowledge. I told him what you said, and he stopped me. I wanted to put the blood in the fridge and he suggested that we should wait until we knew what we where dealing with. He put them under a microscope and thought he was looking at a gigantic virus. He called somebody, and we picked up a scanning tunneling microscope." Mark began to digress. "It's so cool, the nanites have these little recessed squares, they have to be..." Lucy started talking over Mark. "I'm still not seeing how he saved us Mark." She didn't look convinced. "He stopped me from following Joe's instructions. We experimented with a few nanites and put them in the fridge. It's great for blood cells, but it destroys the nanites." Mark looked at Joe, "They break into about fifteen pieces. Looks like they were designed to fail if they get too cool. We've been keeping them at ninety-eight degrees ever since." "Oops." Joe was turning red. "In my defense I was a bit delirious." "Point taken." Mark said. Mark looked at Lucy. "Okay. We can't make him un-know," Lucy said. She strained her face into a half smile. "One small problem," Mark said, "They don't do anything. Maybe they were just being used for data collection?" "Even then they would need to be powered on to communicate," Joe said. His friends watched him stare into space. "I think I know why," he continued. Joe didn't elaborate. He focused on recalling his time in the hospital. "Okay want to share?" Mark asked. "No." Joe matched Mark's sarcasm. "I think my aunt turned them off. That's why I almost died."

"Oh." Mark paused. "How?" "A machine," Joe muttered. He was staring intently. "And gee I thought it would be a sacred dance." Mark was smiling. "Hey why not. Doctors definitely don't have enough fun," Lucy said. The guys both looked at her, eyebrows raised. "It could be done that way with nanites in the eyes... What?" "There was a paddle, attached to a wheeled machine with a screen, and a laptop." "A defibrillator on low power!" Mark shouted. "Who's the man? Who's the man?" He began do dance around the room. "Watch out, you'll turn them on." Joe said, laughing. "So let's go. I want to see them," Lucy said. "Okay, we need to get over to the shop. Wait. Let me call Amman and tell him how to turn them on." Mark circled around changing his direction three times. He walked out of the living room. When he emerged, he was talking on a phone. "Hello Amman. You turn them on with a low power defibrillator, and some kind of laptop signal current control thingy. Yes, I'm sure. That's what Joe saw from his bed. Okay, we'll be there soon." Mark hung up the phone. "Amman is going to try some basic signals with current. This is going to be so cool!" "Don't you think you might fry them if you send too much power out?" Lucy asked. "Nah. Amman's been separating them one or two at a time to experiment with. We must have ten thousand in that sample." Mark seemed confidant. "Let's get some lunch." "Sounds good to me. I'm starving," Joe said. Lucy looked deep in thought. "You know, I think you are a little off." "Yeah, so?" Mark reached out to grab his keys. "A defibrillator is still way too powerful and too simple to turn the current down that much." "Should I call Amman back?" He started to walk toward the phone. "No, but we will need to stop at the store on the way. We need a chip and probe," Lucy said. "What did they use on me?" Joe asked. He was trying to read Lucy's face. Lucy touched her stomach. "One paddle not two, right? And a big screen?" "Yeah, that sounds right," Joe replied.

"It sounds like an ultrasound machine." Lucy smiled.

Chapter 7

Joe looked at Lucy's troubled face as they drove. It was obvious that Lucy was concerned about Amman, but what could they do? They could ban him from working with the nanites, but who is to say he didn't stow some away for later? No, they would have to let him play around and watch him carefully. Mark's dedication to his family seemed outside common sense. Mark lacked the emotional quotient or imagination, to realize the anger that the people of Iran must have with Americans and their most recent war. Amman must have come here out of desperation or rage., Joe thought, He wasn't here for business, or to satisfy his thirst for adventure. He wasn't like Mark's and his family. Amman is exactly why the Feds started their witch hunt on the public use of nanotech. Allah must not be allowed a perfect bloodless revenge at that scale. I'm taking a risk with a world full of lives, so I can play with yet another robot. I must be really selfish, He felt ashamed. He looked up and noticed the sun was gone, obscured by endless clouds. He was gazing up into the gray sky as the black van pulled through the ten foot fence. The sight of the drab warehouse on the endless blanket of concrete felt good. It signified independence and prestige. Lucy parked the van. With the moist cool air weighing on them, The A-team members started their march toward the main door. A neuron fired in back of Joe's brain. He had seen movement out of the corner of his eye. Joe whipped his head around. "What?" asked Mark. Joe stared at a distant building beyond the fence. "I could swear I saw something move over there." "Probably a tumbleweed. That warehouse is very out of business. Missing a roof, lacking windows." Mark said.

"Maybe it's somebody having sex!" Lucy joked. "It's still daylight," Joe mumbled. Looking distracted and serious, he turned on his heel and began to run. His team looked on in shock as he launched top speed toward the building. "Damn he's fast," Mark said. He spoke in his jovial Indian accent. He turned to Lucy and shrugged. "I guess he really wants to see live sex." They turned and walked toward the shop door. Joe closed in on the building. He lost sight of his friends as he ran through a parking lot covered in tall weeds. His pace slowed as he approached the far corner of the dilapidated concrete and brick edifice. Peering around the structure, he saw a distant figure in jeans and a dark jacket. He was hustling toward a newish black Lincoln Towncar. He squinted as the large man opened the driver's side door. As the man climbed in the car, his jacket lifted. Joe noticed the man was wearing a holstered gun. He pulled his head back around the corner. His breathing hushed to a whisper. It must be an undercover police car, Joe told himself. He looked around the corner and examined the car. He did not see the extra lights in the back window. I had better get the license plates in case I need them later, he thought. Just then the Towncar started, and it's driver shifted it into gear spinning it's wheels. Joe craned his neck around the corner too late. Dust and smoke from the car's tires obscured the license plate as it sped away. Joe jogged into the shop. After his eyes adjusted to the lower light. Vast clutter and equipment lined the walls. He scanned through piles of hydraulics, circuit boards, and half-finished five foot tall robots for Mark and Lucy. He spotted them at a small desk. They were behind several tall black servers on top of a work bench. Amman was sitting at the computer. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. His large beard stuck out from either side of the back of his head. Hearing footsteps in the quiet room, Mark turned around. "Oh, hey Joe. Feel better? Where they doing it or just kissing?" "Ha-ha. Very funny," Joe said. "It was a guy with a gun getting into a Towncar." Joe's accent was stronger. That sounded different out loud, Joe thought. Mark's face dropped, like he suddenly realized something. "What? Was it a cop? Did he see you?" Amman turned to face them. The muscles in his face flexed. It showed his age. Joe regretted his haste.

Amman looked at Joe. "That sounds like every taxi driver in New York city." He spoke English fluently with a heavy Persian accent. "Anyone you know?" Joe expression changed to a grimace. He thought of a hundred reasons he shouldn't have said that. Amman asked, "So Joe, should I ask you that too? How did you get these? Is it legal? Did you build them yourself?" All eyes turned to Joe. "They're probably not totally legal, but they've gotta exist to be illegal right?" Joe grinned. He was proud of his clever logic. He hoped his insight would change the mood. Amman stared at Joe with a straight face. "How did you get the one thing that everybody wants but are impossible to build? Where did you steal them from?" "My aunt asked me to look at them." Joe's hopeful smile was fading fast. "That's why they were hidden in your cell phone? That's why you don't even know how to turn them on?" Amman's face had changed. He looked angry. "Who asked you anyway?" A venomous look began to creep over Joe's face. The two men glared at each other. Lucy's eyebrows were raised. Mark looked nervous. "What shocks have you tried? Any luck?" He looked nervously between the two men. Joe decided it wasn't worth the risk of seeding the religious army of Amman's choice. He turned and walked to the other side of the shop. I need coffee, he told himself. Amman turned to Mark. "I think you were wrong," Amman said matter- of-factly. "I did the math on voltage not harmful to the host, and I believe few nanites in a living being would be reached this way. I tried many patterns of signal with plain DC current but no reaction occurred. Most non-vacuum nanite plans I found on the net use ultrasound to talk. I need an audio transmitter and microphone to continue. I found a program that might work with some changes." A stone-faced Lucy dropped a white plastic bag on the table. "One used ultrasound paddle." She turned to Amman, but spoke loudly enough for Joe to hear. "Bought with cash for the extra paranoid." Amman looked at her as if she had sprouted horns. Joe turned his head from the coffee machine and smiled. He suspected Amman was not used to being admonished by strange women. Welcome to Long Island. Joe listened to Mark discussing the poor choice of molecular bonds in a set of theoretical plans Amman had found on the Internet. Lucy strolled over to coffee machine as the discussion accelerated into long strings of letters and numbers. "Joe you have to cool it. He's in now. Don't make him crazier." She grabbed her mug from the nearby sink. Joe curled his upper lip inward to indicate he understood. He poured water into the top of the dirty coffee machine and whispered, "We're screwed! He's going to turn around and kill us all with this stuff." Joe lowered his eyebrows. "I understand some simple physics and chem, but I can't keep an eye on him. Even Mark doesn't understand half of what he says." "Maybe we need to tell your aunt," Lucy suggested. The suggestion clearly stressed Joe out. "No way, Lucy. You had to hear the way this guy told my aunt to shut them off. She would definitely be fired, and then nobody would have a job. My pops still can't find work, and I can't help him." "Which guy?" Lucy paused. "Oh, right, you told me about him. That guy with the southern accent," Her face lit up. "Why don't we mix it up? We need to bring someone else in." Joe could hear Mark babbling in the background. Joe and Lucy stared at each other. "How about Kento? Errr, I mean Bob?" Joe suggested. "Are you sure he would be cool with it?" Lucy asked. "I haven't talked to him in a while." "Lucy, are you kidding? That guy could talk to me for two hours about one 2099 comic." Lucy shrugged. "There have been lots of references to nanites in 2099." "He's a processor designer, right?" Lucy asked. "Last I checked a laid off one. Nothing going on in chips at his pay." Joe shu?ed to the nearest window. "He should be able to keep up with Amman." Joe stared out of a clean spot in the corner of the filthy pane of glass. "We should ask Mark first," Lucy said. Joe nodded and looked at Lucy, "My clarks were destroyed in the crash. Can I use the house glasses?" "You don't have to ask permission every time you want to use something that doesn't look like scrap. I wouldn't have funded the team if it had to be like that."

"Don't worry, you guys are gonna make us rich." Lucy smiled a crooked smile. "How are you feeling?" Joe was feeling a little weak, but he didn't want to admit it. "I'm fine now that I have clarks again." He smiled. "I was going through withdrawal." Joe looked over at Mark. "We need him alone." "I'll get him." Lucy volunteered. Joe paused. "Wait, I'll get the clarks and show him the latest Kamikaze plans." "Won't Amman want to see them too?" Lucy wondered. Joe looked over at Amman and Mark. Amman was squinting and furiously typing. Mark was sitting on the bench next to him dissecting the ultrasound wand. "Nah." Joe smiled widely. He poured coffee into a green mug with the faded name of a long forgotten dot-com. He wanted to talk to Lucy about the man with the gun, but he decided it would be better to save it until Mark was there too. He walked over to the bench next to an open space set aside for testing robots. He donned the clarks and connected their thin wire to the computer in his jacket pocket. He pulled the small computer out and strapped it to his arm. He touched the small computer's screen, and it's backlight lit. Words flashed across the display as it restored the program he was using during his accident. He pulled a case out of his pocket and removed a pencil-like wand. He ran a cord hanging from the wand through the wristband of his watch and plugged the end into his arm PC. He twisted the wand in the air. Tiny air flow sensors and mercury switches in the wand sent signals to his arm PC. The wand's sensors combined with input from the cameras in Joe's clarks, indicating movement to the computer. He much preferred the wand when his hands were free. It was far more accurate than just the mounted camera's estimations of his commands. The dual screens in his clarks lit up and displayed a classic two-dimensional web browser on four sides of a three-dimensional cube. He flicked the wand, spun the cube, and chose a side. He locked it in place with another movement. He dropped the wand, and began to type in the air directly in front of him. Not nearly as many letters and numbers appeared as his finger movements might indicate. Joe had forgotten he had to set up the new pair of clarks. He would have to spend some time running the tedious typing calibration program later. Frustrated, Joe picked the wand back up. He pressed a small button on the wand to select each of a series of links. Satisfied with the web page, Joe let the wand dangle from his watch band. He picked up a small box from the top of a nearby computer monitor. It had an image of red lips printed on one side. He touched the lips to the LCD screen on his arm PC, and the lips box beeped. He touched the lips to a desktop monitor, and it lit up with the latest revised plans of the Kamikaze rocket. "Cool!" Joe deliberately spoke loud enough for Mark to hear. He gazed over at Mark, who was looking in Joe's direction. Amman was not. "Mark, check this fuel pump design on the Kamikaze." Mark walked over and looked at the schematic on the monitor for a minute. Finally he said, "Joe, you hadn't seen this? It's three weeks old." Mark paused. "Oh wait, I guess you wouldn't have." "I must have missed it before I had the wreck." Joe lied. "I don't think it's any better and it uses point three amps more juice," Mark said. "It saves two pounds in heat shield weight," Joe offered. He looked over at Amman as Mark stared into the monitor. Lucy strolled over to them, her coffee mug in hand. "Hi guys. Kamikaze again?" Lucy asked. "Yeah, catching up." Joe lied. Mark looked up at Joe and Lucy and cocked his head. "Something's not right here." He looked right at Lucy. "Why are you interested in the Kamikaze?" Lucy glared at Mark. "Fine, be that way." Lucy smiled to show she was joking. "Mark, we want to bring our friend Kento in on the nanites." She choked on the last word. "Who is Kento?" Mark asked in an unusually flat voice. "He's a buddy of mine from high school. He was a senior in my freshman year. We took shop together." "Okay, but why him?" Mark asked, "What is in it for us?" "He's a jobless chip builder." "Oh. I want to meet him before I agree first. I want to make sure I can talk to him." "Uhh, errr okay." That was easy, he thought. "You think Amman will be okay with it?" "Does it matter?" Mark asked, shrugging.

BOOK: Thicker Than Blood
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