3G: the Glowing Green Goo

Zax observed Vester trying to appease the receptionist.

His posture and tone were totally different from the entitled advanced mutant he had met. He was a lot more casual, nearing… timid? No, not quite. More like, less self-assured? Afraid to spoil something up? Aware his actions have consequences for others?

Regardless, and as amusing as it was to watch those two awkwardly fumble their way in a conversation, his time was a limited resource.

The dotter took over the back-and-forth, making Aran pout, and summarised his proposal, concluding with:

“I don’t expect to get everything done today, I just wanted to test the waters. See if there are volunteers, how to spread the word, what it would cost me, that kind of thing. Can you help?”

“Er- Hm- I think… I’m unqualified to answer. Waitaminuteplease, I’mgoingto- gettheboss.”

Without waiting for an answer, she rushed to a door right behind her.

No visible mutation, confirmed.

“She seems… nice.” In the following silence, Zax awkwardly smiled to Vester.

“Pfffrt!” Aran barely managed to hold back a chuckle.

“Hahaha!” One of the children failed to, and soon enough the room was filled with laugher. Even Vester and SG partook in it.

“It could take a while. What kind of games do you have here?” Aran asked the younglings.

Because of course it would be games; but to be fair, no one in the audience was more than ten years old.

“I was reading- oh forget it.” Vester tried to speak up, but he gave up immediately.

Groups formed around different board games – same ones as the dot, but physical – and everyone had fun. Barely every group had completed a round of their respective play when a door opened. Not the backdoor the receptionist had gone through, but a double set leading to a door-lined hallway.

“Ah, sorry kiddos. Meeting’s over, your parents are here.” The cat clapped his hands and called all games off.

“Aaaawwww!” the youngsters started to complain, but their caretaker would have none of it.

“Need I remind you it was supposed to be a reading session?”

They were instantly silenced. He knew them well.

Children will be children.

Zax chuckled. Juveniles were the same everywhere. It was reassuring, in a way.

The room was quickly filled and emptied again, parents taking their children with them. The only people staying behind were the receptionist – who had gone back to her place unnoticed – a strict-looking middle-aged woman, and an older man with red hair and eyes, too vibrant to not be a mutation, tending to a boy and a younger girl. None of them made eye-contact with the visitors.

“Welp, it was nice to see you again Zax. Missus.”

The cat bowed slightly and was about to follow out when the red-haired man called him:

“Ah, wait a bit, please, Vester. I heard your friends had a… particular proposition to make, and I would like you there as a witness.”

“That’s very… trusting of you.” The advanced mutant briefly frowned. “Did something happen?”

“No, not yet.” The red-hair waved his concerns off. “It’s the first time you’ve brought friends, we didn’t want to separate you.”

Vester and Zax exchanged a surprised glance, allowing Aran to speak first:

“What part of our interactions so far made you think he brought us here? Or that we’re friends? It was literally the first time we spoke, and the very first time SG saw him.” She pointed said girl with her thumb. “Zax might be a friend, not sure, but none of them had any idea the other was here.” She glanced at the receptionist and added: “I don’t know what you told them, but a lot was lost in translation.”

The social expert had spotted the same thing they had; this man was trying to force a relation between them and the advanced mutant, for some reason. Considering he apparently didn’t trust the cat despite leaving him alone with children, including his own, it was probably not well-intentioned.

Stopping it immediately was the right call, but Zax wasn’t sure throwing the scared girl to the wolves was the best way to do so.

“Before we continue, know that everything is being recorded.” He interjected, putting his hand on the tailed girl’s shoulder as he moved back in front of the group. “Everyone in the recording can ask to have their face and voice altered to hide their identity in any broadcast or replay, but Enforcers can demand the raw version with a warrant. Everyone in the recording can also ask for a copy of their own; just give me your coordinates. Don’t worry, no broadcast is planned, but this disclaimer is just a legal requirement.” He kept his tone as neutral and professional as possible, but he couldn’t deny the loss of respect for the manipulation attempt from this man.

Was it a Resident thing, or was he just that unlucky?

“Friends or not, I don’t understand why you think I’d be a better witness, but I don’t mind helping.” Vester added his grain of salt, instinctively moving next to Zax.

“Marvellous.” Red Hair smiled, ignoring the first part of the conversation. “My name’s Azar, and I’m the head coordinator of this block. This is my secretary and daughter, Agni, and you’ve already met my two grandchildren. Please follow me, we’ll be better discussing inside.”

Azar, Vester and Zax want to a meeting room while Agni took her offsprings to another one. It was just next door, so Aran and SG elected to go with them.

The older man opened the negotiation:

“Little Cera told us about your business proposition, but just in case something was lost in translation, please explain from the start.”

“Of course.” Zax nodded, pulling a holo-screen from his bag and setting it on the table. “I’m a dotter, and I study mutations as a hobby. For that, I use what I call templates. It’s a three-dimensional representation of someone’s body, including any kind of biological activity structure. Organs, vitals and so on. Very precise and accurate.”

He turned the screen on and had his nanites send a demonstration using a recording of his own body, using a general view, then separating his skeletal, nervous and muscle systems, adding medical readings of his cardiac and cerebral activity. First at rest, and when the device didn’t fry from being active in the Circle, during physical activities.

“Volunteers are scarce in the dot, but for some reason, low-mutated Residents are less reluctant.” He shrugged. “I thought I’d try my luck looking for more, and I was advised to this block. I want to see if I can make more templates, in exchange for money, good, or service the volunteer might need. I don’t know how you are organised, but I wouldn’t mind helping the community in general for a pre-determined number of samples.”

“Intriguing offer, but I have a few questions.”

“I thought you might. Please ask away.”

“Why is it so difficult to find volunteers?”

“Ignorance and stigma. See, the templates are made with nano-technology, scanning the volunteer’s body from inside over few hours. And just the mention of that word makes people balk. Case in point.” Zax motioned to his host, who had briefly paled.

“Na, nano-technology? Machines!? Inside our bodies?” It felt strange seeing this experience leader stammer.

“Yes.” Zax nodded firmly but casually. “I can assure you it’s perfectly safe, no risk, no side effect, and if anything does go wrong, you’ll just end up with broken nanites in you; which your organism will expel naturally. They are designed that way, and you won’t feel a thing.”

He let the thought sink in before following:

“I will want to get my helpers back though; they are difficult and costly to make. Some I can’t make on my own and aren’t sold anywhere anymore. The process is simple: the volunteer gets the nanites inside them – there are different ways –, I activate them, we go live our lives and let them do their thing, we meet again the next day, and I get the nanites out and the data for the template with them. It would be better if I could ask questions about the patient’s daily life, see their personality, their life situation, but I understand not wanting to have anything more to do with me.”

“Why us?” Azar asked the next business-relevant question before he was done digesting the idea. Truly an experienced negotiator. “If mutations are what concerns you, I can’t imagine the people most hated by the 3G being interesting to you…”

“Baby steps, and I don’t care about the 3G’s feelings. I mostly have dotter templates, so the least mutated of the Residents seem like the best comparison to start from. I saw enough on the way here and with the children to confirm it’s a good idea.” Zax shrugged. “Plus, a complete database must have all extremes, the most and the least. Lastly, I could get templates from low-mutated Residents. I don’t know if they’re actually Disfavoured or which bubble they live in; I didn’t know the term before coming here, but they’re what made me think ‘Eh, worth a shot’.”

The questions/answer game continued until the Resident was satisfied. Zax agreed to show the most common parts of the disfavoured templates he had, but nothing more; confidentiality was one of his conditions. Vester agreed to have his full template shown and to share his experience with nanites, as proof and example of safety. He seemed a bit put off by its existence though; he might have forgotten about the nanites he had to swallow, or not realised their significance, or erased them from his memory. A naïve, but honest mistake.

The conversation stalled when it came to the payment. Zax didn’t lack 3G units, but it was only true for life in the dot. Even without this uncertainty, he heavily favoured an exchange of goods and services, if only to have a better idea of how their life was.

Azar was more interested in his repair services. They had little use for clothing adjustments, but they used more machines than average Residents. In the circle, they were not that easy to fix, which meant more costly. Sure, they lasted longer in this block, but they still couldn’t keep pace.

Just this community centre had a storage room for disrupted devices of all size, shapes and functions; from essentials to conveniences to entertainment. Fixing them when possible was more cost-effective than selling at a loss and buying a new one, but they lacked in manpower and skillsets to do so effectively, so they collected dust until selling was necessary.

Even Disfavoured didn’t care much for machines, it seemed. Not enough to have dedicated people to study and fix them, at least. No, it didn’t make sense; they should rely on them as much as dotters. More likely, that specific type of education was merely out of reach. Easy fix, but not the right moment to mention it.

“Alright.” Zax concluded. “No way I can fix everything today, but I can start with this box. I’ll give you a free diagnostic and fix what I can with what I have on hand. I can even do it here and in front of you. Let’s call it a good will gesture and a demonstration. We can discuss the details afterwards.”

They had just toured the storage room, both groups reunited. It roughly helped determine the extent of the damage and what Zax could offer, but their sorting system was… somewhat lacking. Actually, pretty inexistent. Large appliances were placed between shelves where it was convenient, and crates were filled with haphazardly thrown items with nothing in common besides, if lucky, their basic appearances.

Case in point, the one he chose for his demonstration. It was one among similar others, full of printed circuit boards, from all kind of devices. An appropriate example of what they needed, and what he could do about it.

Azar had no reason to refuse.

They prepared a room with a large table, a fresh white sheet over it, with chairs and space for everyone around it. Zax did warn them there wouldn’t be much to see, as he didn’t have proper tools, but everybody stayed and watched anyways. Even the children; they asked to be carried to see. Aran and SG were happy to put them on their shoulders.

The start wasn’t difficult, although Zax kept forgetting to explain his actions aloud.

First step was identification and organising. He took each piece out one after the other; identified it, its function and what device it came from, consulting his nanites’ database when necessary; and sorted it by category and priority. His HUD added area borders and individual tags for each piece; he didn’t want to write on the white sheet. The table was a bit too small to lay everything down, so he had to let some items overlap. Not ideal to avoid new issues, but he would have to make do.

Second came the diagnostic. Figuring out what was wrong with a board without the machine around or an energy source to test the components was usually a challenge, but disruptive fields effects were fairly obvious; they rarely made sense. A resistance burning or melting? Faulty design, but it could happen; they were made to generate heat. A resistance cleanly breaking in two lengthwise, then in the middle? Not so much.

For that kind of faults, a nanite-assisted visual examination was enough, with an overlay of a working board and a highlight of the differences. There rarely was more than two of such flaws too; they happened one after another and stopped when the device stopped working.

Other or unrelated types of faults would only be considered once those were fixed, and tested once he had the relevant gear.

The diagnostic led to a second round of organising, by type of reparation. Some he could do immediately, some he could do with the right equipment, some were beyond him, some couldn’t be fixed at all.

Lastly came the actual repair. He hadn’t lied, it was not much to see for bystanders. Only another nano-technology professional would recognise the technical prowess in display; juggling and weaving the different types, moving, removing and replacing what needed to be, staying within the board’s specifications, with uncanny efficiency and accuracy.

To the laymen present, he only seemed to put a metal ball on the faulty part of the circuit, pressed his hands on both sides of the board around it, closed his eyes for a bit, then took his ball back and moved to the next circuit board. If the ball didn’t visibly shrink after a few uses and needed to be replaced, it would be easy to think he wasn’t doing anything.

It was quickly over; there were disappointingly few pieces he could readily fix, considering all that had been in the box. He could have tried a few more, but they weren’t placed in a convenient way to let him protect his helpers with his bare hands. Disfavoured block or not, he didn’t forget where he was.

Hopefully, it would be enough to prove his worth.

“There we go.” Zax sighed of relief. “I can do more with the proper tools, but for now: three graphic cards, five generic transistor boards, one gaming console mother board, and the main event: four water chips. One important thing to note about those,” he added, locking eyes with the red-haired man, “that kind of damage can’t have come from a disruptive field. Whatever purifiers they were pulled from, they’ve been sabotaged to quickly wear down. No doubt about it.”