This is the story of the Nano Fmall, a rising star in House Gosnoth.
Chapter 1[]
Fmall of House Gosnoth was frustrated. This was the third time that his robo-plague had failed, falling apart before it could carry out a test run. The tall, crested, amphibian sat in his small, round, cluttered room, staring at the large device that took up half the left wall, humming and whirring as if taunting him to try again. Fmall lifted himself off the chair next to his desk, and strode over to a window that took up most of the other wall space in the room. He looked down at the planet revolving below him, a world aglow with the fires and lights of industry. The world was Netrixia, the fifth factory planet of the Nanosan empire, Fmall's homeworld. Fmall lived in space-station Beta, one of the three such stations that floated in the void around Netrixia. The planet had been plagued by a scourge of robots since it's colonization, which was the reason for Fmall’s frustration.
He was broken from his brooding by a much younger voice, that of his little brother Dahhas. Dahhas was only 16 years old, and had a flair for the theatrical. When asked by his parents what he wanted for his Beginning Day augmentation, he gave them a set of plans for a ‘chrono cape,’ a holographic projector that made a long cloak depicting all the different time zones of the Nanosan empire. The ‘cape’ was now implanted in his back, and often fluttered behind him as he ran, making him look like a small demi-god of time.
“Hey Fmall, how’s it going?” he asked.
“Quiet Dahhas, I’m thinking, Fmall replied over his shoulder, “don’t bother me right now.”
“Just because you’re eight years older than me doesn’t mean you can just blow me off. I want to know how your counter-plague is going, otherwise I might have to take it upon myself to fix Netrixia’s problem.”
Fmall swung around to his brother, “Many minds greater than yours have been trying to fix the ‘Problem’ as you call it. What makes you think you can do any better?”
Dahhas’ face patterns shifted to a darker hue, forming what passed for a Nano frown.
“And how do you have a claim to one of the greater minds of House Gosnoth? If you can’t even put a viable robo-plague together, I don’t think you have much to boast about. Truly, even I, a sixteen-year-old, yet to Become, can create a basic plague.”
Now it was Fmall’s turn to frown; he remembered that plague quite well. It had been turned on him, as something of a practical joke that got out of proportion. The robots created by it infiltrated the door control systems in Fmall’s family’s section of the station, and made it so that Fmall couldn’t go through any of the doors in his own house. Dahhas had been so proud about the victory he had gained over his older sibling. Then the robo-plague had become a major problem when the plague’s tagger system malfunctioned, locking the entire family away from the rest of the colony.
“Yes, said Fmall, “but you made a small, generic plague. I am trying to incorporate a new set of technology into mine. Otherwise it won’t be powerful enough to challenge the Lightfliers in battle, let alone destroy them. And I am very very close to creating such a plague. Thus, I do have a claim on being one of the better minds of the House, if not one of the great ones.”
“What technology are you trying to add?” asked Dahhas.
“House Glonog’s photon destruction fields; the Lightfliers main set of ranged weaponry are lasers. The fields would completely negate that channel of attack. But the fields take copious amounts of energy to activate, and I can’t make a plague stable with that capability."
"Well, tell me when you do, I want to be able to go to the surface of Netrixia without an armed escort. Oh, by the way, dinner's ready, and I'm going to eat all the Nevnonian fish if you don't hurry down."
With that Dahhas raced back down the corridor and leaped down the stairs at the end, touching down in the kitchen. Fmall followed at a more sedate pace, inhaling the smell of cooking meat. Then he heard the sliding of chairs on the kitchen floor, and he sped up to a trot. Nevnonian fish was his favorite, after all.
Chapter 2[]
"My lord Colievnon", said the messenger, "he is nearing completion of the counter-plague. This Fmall has worked through every hurdle we throw at him, be it material or programming. This Became One is stubborn, and refuses to stop his work."
The metallic colossus that was seated on a huge throne answered immediately, "Remove him" it rumbled, "kill him or make him a candidate for exile, I care not."
"Surely death is slightly extreme, my lord, for just one planet among hundreds to remain under your control." The messenger realized that he should not contradict his House Lord, but he had children of the same age as Fmall, and so he had slight reservations about such a cold course of action.
The colossus quikly rose, causing the messenger to flinch back. "My control of the fuel economy would be broken if the resources on Netrixia became easily accessible. Such a threat to my power cannot be tolerated, and such a loss could also affect your family, do you not think?" The colossus formed a deceptively benign smile out of the light patterns on its face."Now go", it said, "and do what I have decreed."
"Hah, finally!" cried Fmall. "Hah-hah, I did it, it works! Dahhas, come look!"
Dahhas ran up the stairs and peered in the door to Fmall's room. All he saw was blackness, pure and impenetrable. "Fmall?" he called, "you in here?-Ahh!" Dahhas jumped back as something lurched out of the pitch-filled room.
"Easy Dahhas", said Fmall. "It's only me." Fmall's face patterns were a huge smile.
"Why is your room so dark?" asked Dahhas.
Fmall's smile grew even more pronounced. "Because the photon destruction field is working. No light can form in this room, the field absorbs and redirects it to the movement systems of my Light Eater."
"Light Eater?" Dahhas was in shock at the moment. He understood the idea of a photon destruction field in theory, but it was more imposing in practice. "What's that?"
"My subclass three robot." Fmall turned back to the room. "Override anda-vis-evnon," he commanded.
The light slowly drained back into the room, shadows crawled back to their proper places, and Dahhas saw the reason that the dark had taken over the room; standing in the middle, still covered in a cloak of shadows, was a robot the size of a young Nano. It stood on four thin legs, each ending in three long, clawed, toes. It's body had the same lines as a feline's, though it had no tail. The head was the most striking part of the robot: it rose on a long, segmented neck, and was shaped much like a Nano's, only lacking the crest. The most unnerving feature of it was the mouth, which had huge dagger-shaped teeth and enlarged shearing mandibles. Most of the room not used for the mouth was taken up by large, smooth eyes, which glowed with a faint red color.
"Isn't it a little dangerous to give your plague voice commands?" asked Dahhas.
"Not for this", replied his brother, "All it does is lower the level of the PD field. No opposing force is going to try to figure such a minor command out when they have the larger problem of fighting this robo-plague."
Now that he had got over the strange look of the Light Eater, Dahhas was brimming with questions. "Isn't it small for a subclass three? Does it have any other modes? What combat systems does it have? Shouldn't you-oh, you want to talk, my bad."
Nanos can't hear when they are talking, which means they have to use their face patterns to communicate that they want to reply. Fmall's face patterns had changed to a thin dark mask around his eyes and mouth.
"Yes Dahhas, I do want to speak. I may have Become, but my cyber-brain can't compute more than two trains of thought at a time, and one of those trains is trying to figure out logistics. So let's keep it to a pair of questions at a time. To answer your first couple, it's size is necessary because of the tight spaces it will have to fit into on Netrixia. And, yes it does have other modes; an attack mode and a defense mode. Anything else?"
"Yes, what combat systems does it have?"
"Ah, it has an energy drainer-converter in its mouth, behind all those blades, so it can cut into opposing robots' armor. The attack mode has a gel sphere projector on the back, loaded with immobilizer nets. The def- yes, what?"
"Aren't immobilizer nets made for catching small game?" Dahhas queried, "The Lightflier plague's subclass three forms are as big as a full grown. How are immobilizer gel nets going to stop them?"
Fmall grinned, "Because my nets are made of energy gel, and they are constituted mainly of a fast drying solution. If one of these nets becomes snarled in a Lightflier's airofoils, they will be deformed beyond all repair." Fmall walked over to his Robo-plague package Manufacturer and Distributor device; the piece of machinery that took up his entire left wall. The small door in its belly was now filled with a bright light, and oiled arms extended from the sides, ready to shape the molten metal and silicon within. "Now all I have to do is create ten or twelve seed bombs, drop them in the main trouble areas, and start the tagging process."
"And I'm sorry to say that such an undertaking will have to be delayed." Both of the young Nanos whirled around, surprised at their parent's silent approach. Dovmall of House Gosnoth, Fmall and Dahhas' father, was 200 years old, with arms and legs completely replaced with cybernetic prosthetics. "The entire shuttle crew of Station Beta has fallen ill with Marekoan fever, a strain of virus we haven't seen yet, in case you are wondering. How a Nano with any self respect can return from a foray on a alien planet and not spend time in quarantine is beyond me. He must have been of the lower classes, yet to Become."
"How long of a delay?" fumed Fmall. His face patterns showed his agitation. "I can't logically reconcile this. Nowhere in the House databanks is there a record of a project riddled with such bad luck, so blighted by fate, as mine."
"You will learn over the course of your life not put all of your faith in the data that your cyber-brain contains, Fmall. Not every input has been explored, so even Mahvolmesh may not know every outcome. Be patient, and don't worry, I will find you a new set of pilots."
Chapter 3[]
Fmall checked the seals on his armor one last time, going over them all with the scanner eyes he was given when he Became. All of the joints were sound nad well oiled. His armor's particle furnace was functioning properly, giving energy to the enhanced limbs and the laser weapon built into his armor. The extra features he had added, mostly small things like an x-ray visor andother vision gear, were all in perfect condition. This was supposed to be a simple bombing and tagging opperation, but one couldn't be too careful. Finished with his final system checks, he looked up from his suit.
He was in the hanger bay of Station Beta, an area as large and cavernous as a cathedral. The space-craft of House Gosnoth flew in and out of the pressure field at the front of the bay, swerving and banking in a dance of mathematical perfection. Their hulls shined as they flew under the gold and green halos of the lights that hung from the ceiling. Most carried cargoes of food, House Gosnoth's stock-in-trade. All the ships swooping in through the main field bore the signature Gosnoth colors of light, grass green and dull, sun-set orange, and had the wheat shaped Gosnoth coat of arms. But Fmall wasn't interested in the main entry field. He was looking at the guest entrances.
Through these fields came ships from a myriad of other Houses. Each had its own set of colors, though none had any red. Fmall had been told that red was a color that the alien Mantrassians could see, but the color was a mystery to those Nanos that didn't want to invest in special genetic eye mutations and brain implants. He saw the ship he was searching for. It was a sleek bomber, with a stubby, sphere shaped body and long, swept back levitation modules. The main thrusters were in the back, and they still glowed from the venture to Station Beta. It was covered in the blue and black livery of House Mora, the masters of cryogenics. This was the ship and crew that his father had found to transport his counter-plague to the planet's surface.
Fmall walked over to the landing pad, careful to stay behind the caution line until the bomber landed, and braced himself as the backwash from the levitation modules swept over him. The door on the bomber seemed to simply appear, formed by a section of the wall that seemed to turn into gray sand. The material from the door was then rerouted to generate a ramp. Fmall marveled at the scope of the miniaturization. The House Doposen scientists had out-done themselves this time. They had long been working on innovating a more utilitarian use for the robo-plague technology, creating something new called "repair swarms". They then strove to shrink them to a size so miniscule that they could be secreted inside a ship's plating, allowing them to restructure the plating at the command of a spectrum tagger. Fmall had only seen these miniature repair swarms in the newest space-craft from Netrobania, the mother-world of the Nanosan race. This bomber must be a new acquisition of House Mora's, thought Fmall. They must understand the importance of this mission for the fate of our venture on Netrixia. He then started forward to meet his pilots, who would also act as his guards and assistants for this trip.
The four Nanosan bomber pilots walked down the boarding ramp. Though they were all about the same height, each was augmented in varying ways: one had an extra set of weaponized, robotic arms extending above his original set. One arm held a heated pike, the other a super-cooled, solid hydrogen blade. Another's back had been implanted with a large tank, which was likely made to transport weaponized cryo-gas. The other pair had the enhancements that marked them as the actual flight directors. Long uplink cords extending through their clothing and in-flight sensor goggles built into their heads gave them a disheveled look, as if they were Nanosan children still wearing the play-enhancements their parents had given them. But Fmall knew that the bodies of these bomber directors were fitted with all sorts of equipment to give them the reflexes needed to make minute adjustments of the micro-thrusters on the space-craft.
The flight directors stepped forward to introduce themselvs. "I am Pfamdos, and this is my co-director, Pfacasnac. Your father said to tell you that he would, regrettably, not be able to join us today. Something about the loss of yet another export station on the far side of the planet." Pfamdos' face carried a look of sympathy at Fmall's slightly sad body language. "He said he wished he could be here to see your crowning achievement, but I told him we could record it, and that seemed to lighten his mood a bit."
Fmall smiled at that. Dovmall had always had a passion for hologram records, it was one of the few indulgences he allowed himself. "Very well," he said. "Let us get the seed bombs loaded, no point in standing here bemoaning outcomes that can not be changed."
The two guards, who introduced themselves as Drehnov and Dredoc, had already begun to load the bomber. Fmall helped with the loading procedure so that the flight directors could begin pre-launch checks. The duo of warriors seemed respectable enough, though they both seemed to have a predaliction to silence, which Fmall found a bit odd: most Nano warriors liked to boast about their victories. But I have only had contact with my own House's fighters. Perhaps those of House Mora aren't so quick to take pride in destroying things.
After they finshed loading the three dozen bombs, Fmall followed Dredoc into the space-craft as Drehnov gave the spctrum command to form the bomb bay shut.
The bomber was a bit of a squeeze for five Nanos, but everyone was able to scrunch in. Fmall found himself in between the two cockpit seats, with Pfamdos on his left and Pfacasnac on his right, in the co-director's seat. He heard the warriors grumbling as their augmentaions banged against and caught on equipment in the passenger compartment. As the bomber wove its way out of the hanger, Fmall went back to see if he could help the warriors in the bomb compartment.
But something checked him. A cable had snaked around his neck, and even as he struggled agianst it, linked into a slot in his armor. He wrenched his head around just in time to see that the cable came from Pfamdos before his suit went into lockdown mode, and he was made dead to the world.
Chapter 4[]
"The youth Fmall has been dealt with, Lord Colievnon," reported the messenger. "It was made to look like a suit malfunction, and all organic evidence will soon be destroyed by the ecosystem of Netrixia."
"Good," rumbled Colievenon. "You made sure no over zealous family members would create trouble." A statement, not a question.
"Of course, lord. It was perfect in its completion. . ."
Fmall woke to find pale, gray light filtering into his visor. His limbs felt as if he had just gone through an intense training bout, without his armor. He groaned as he sat up. He was in a tunnel of concrete, about ten feet tall, and there was a ragged hole in the roof letting the weak light in. The walls were covered with a thick coating of lichen and slimy fungus growths that oozed down the walls. A deep channel ran through the center of the tunnel, and disappeared around a corner.
"Warning, gaseous toxin detected." Fmall's armor seemed to be working again.
For a moment, Fmall panicked. Then his survival training kicked in. "Identify toxin level and composition, state armor suit integrity," he ordered. "And determine location, if possible."
"Toxin identified as hazorium-trioxide, and level is holding steady at one-point-two percent. Location is sector thirty-six, Netrixia. This armor system has sustained serious sabotage: all filtering apparatus have been removed, and all seals destroyed. This system suggests locating a maintenance station immediately."
Netrixia!, Fmall thought, surprised. From what he had read of it, the "atmosphere" was pure poison. Hazorium-trioxide was one of the tamer chemicals in the air, and there was never a recorded amount of oxygen that was considered breathable. Yet here he was, still very much alive and breathing. How he had gotten here in the first place was a matter he did not want to contemplate right now. Well, I certainly can not go looking for help, unless the surveyors got the gas readings wrong for the rest of the planet. I guess it was a good idea to make that addition to my armor. "Override sofmas-zas-modem."
Fmall's armor made a drastic change in form at this command. Soldering beams sprang out from hundreds of places, cutting shapes out of the armor from the inside. The shapes pulled themselves off the metal, becoming the recognizable silhouettes of Hackbots. They flowed and clambered down Fmall's back; as if rain was running off the shining surface. They then recoalesced into his Light Eater, the first of what were supposed to be many. Fmall doubted he would ever see the other thirty-thousand of his robo-plague Hackbots, but he was glad to have these few to help him on his way. He checked over his now thinner armor, making sure the particle furnace was still running smoothly. It was.
Fmall activated the photon-destructor field on the robot, and then sent it to scout the area with the benefit of the cloak of shadows. The Light Eater loped down the tunnel and around the bend, and Fmall could hear the subsonic hum of the sonar it used getting fainter and fainter as it traveled.
It returned after fifteen minutes, reported its findings, which constituted useless sewer waste and more tunnel, and then went to search farther afield. Fmall moved farther down the now safe tunnel, hoping to find a place with a less noxious gas mix. Presumably, with so little wind down here, the gasses stay much the same, he thought. But that hole I came through must be letting in the toxic upper-atmosphere, so the logical step is to move away from it.
Fmall continued to sedately follow his Light Eater down the tunnel, until the machine came back with a report of a T-junction in their path. Fmall had activated the lights on his armor some time ago, only to have them extinguished whenever the Light Eater returned. Now, as he came up the split in his path, he turned them off: there were lights in this part of the tunnel. Or at least in one direction. Harsh, sharp, and very green, a glow came from down the left-hand junction. Fmall assumed it came from Nanosan particle furnaces, but these must have been quite poorly insulated to give off so much light. The right-hand tunnel held only more darkness, and Fmall also heard strange clickings and hummings coming from there. On one side un-insulated particle furnaces, on the other unknown noises. Fmall weighed the odds. He was not sure that he could shield himself completely from particle blasting, but there were sure to be people hired for maintenance somewhere back there. If he went down the other tunnel to the right, he could be assaulted by whatever hungry creatures eked out a living in these sublevels. On the whole, unless he was missing a variable, logic dictated he go down the left-hand way. So, after adding some shielding on the front of his armor, at the expense of most of the metal on the rear, he set off down the walkway in the left-hand tunnel. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him from behind, and he sped up as he went toward the harsh light ahead.
As he strode toward the green glow ahead, he began to notice more oddities in the particle light. It fluctuated, for one, and for two, it seemed to come from many sources, instead of just a singular furnace. Fmall was just beginning to think he had missed a variable when something broke away from the main mass of light. Fmall started with alarm. It was a Flash Orb, the first stage of the Lightflier robo-plague.
It glowed the same harsh green of a particle furnace, and looked much like a will-o-wisp, but two burly silver arms extended from its center of mass, and the twin black voids of photoreceptor eyes peered out from its verdant light. It floated about average Nanosan head-height, and the Flash Orb's main body was a yard in diameter. From the arms extended three fingers each, but Fmall stared in horror as these reformed into a plasma orb launcher and a set of cutting shears. Both weapons seemed superfluous to Fmall; with the amount of particle radiation his sensors said that little robot was putting out, all it would have to do is touch him to cause severe damage.
Before the Orb could begin an attack, a net of crackling goo flew past Fmall and pinned it to a wall. Fmall whirled to see his Light Eater making the final transformations into Attack Mode. Its claws sharpened, the joints closed up to reduce weak points, and the legs shortened to reduce its center of mass. The gel net cannons had already formed on the Light Eater's haunches.
A loud whirring of wings had Fmall looking back up the tunnel. He realized with horror that he had found a whole swarm of Lightfliers. The two dozen five-foot-tall robots held the same eerie glow of the Flash Orb in their tails, and their four limbs were large and tipped with talons. Tall, segmented wings rose above a face of yellow light, marred by to angry black slashes for eyes. Fmall started to back away with trepidation. Make the wrong move and the Lightfliers' attack programing would kick in, but they were likely to kill him anyway if he didn't leave soon. The reports he'd had of Lightflier attacks showed a pattern of ruthlessness that had no variation. All thet odds were stacked against Fmall, so he did the only logical thing: try to add as few variables as possible.
The young Nano's plan had two major flaws, however. The first he knew of, his Light Eater was bound to attack any second, and it couldn't defend them both. The second became apparent just as Fmall's robot crouched in preparation to spring at its opponents. A humming cry, almost like the shriek of a saw against metal, tore through the sound of the Lightfliers' wings.
Fmall twisted around yet a third time to see a giant arthropod come hurtling down the passage.
Chapter 5[]
Caught between two insectoid enemies, Fmall felt something very illogical that he hadn't felt in a long time: fear. Pure, gut-renching fear. He was about to, a) be vaporized/shredded by the worst robo-plague House Gosnoth had ever seen, or b) be eaten by a huge, ravenous bug. He was consigning himself to death as the bug flew past him on prismatic wings. His computer brain then started running variables as the arthropod interposed itself in-between him and the Lightfliers.
It came to a sliding halt on all four of its limbs and began waving its wings in strange patterns, creating flashing shadows all over the walls. The Lightfliers, which looked about ready to launch themselves at this interloper, looked around confusedly. Then each began flying back down the tunnel they had come from, leaving Fmall and his robot alone with their shelled savior.
It turned to him, levered itself onto taloned, widely splayed feet, and spoke in formal, if exceedingly buzzy, Hvolnhovan. "Greetingz, velcon to Netrixia hower station nu'ber 352. How nay I ve of service? Ny designation is Gazgading." It spoke in fractured bits, with inflection that sounded more like a chipper maintenance A.I. than a ravenous monster. It seemed to have pieced the sentances togther, and its bodylanguage was all wrong. But it also had the vague light of curiosity in its slanted black eyes, something all sentient beings possesed. Or at least all civil sentient beings. It stared at him, waiting for a responce. Finding his voice, Fmall replied, "My name-"
The arthropod's antenae twitched toward him, and it took a step forward, hanging on that one word. "Hu 'nane'?" it asked. Fmall didn't understand. 'Hu' wasn't a word in any language he knew.
"Name is...designation?" he tried. "My designation is Fmall."
"Velcon, Vnall, how nay I ve of service?"
Fmall was starting to wonder if this bug was nothing more than a copier, a connoisseur of phrases it barely understood. Perhaps it simply found him an interesting anomaly in its world. But Gazgading seemed a very alien for a maintenance A.I. It sounded like this creature had a name. Then Fmall saw huge, blade-like claws slip out of the creature's forelimbs, and the pieces fit together in his computer brain. This was a Mantrassian, the Nanos' arthropod neighbors. They were supposed to have an amazing affinity for languages, and they could breath nearly any substance that had oxygen as a constituant atom. This Gazgading could easily survive on hazorium-trioxide, and worse besides. Fmall's missgivings started to fade. Primitive as they might be, Mantrassians weren't know to attack people unless they acted like enemies...or food. Fmall wrote himself a digital memo to not act like food.