“They have at least the same characteristics as the standard kind, only better. Way better. Smaller.” Zax gesticulated as he explained what he had figured out about the Core’s nanites. He had taken to call them ‘C-nanites’, and the batch as a whole was ‘the swarm’.

“That’s good, right?” Aran queried, walking at his side. She didn’t share his interest, but his excitement was contagious.

They were on the way to visit Zax’s former teacher of nanotechnological sciences. His friend hadn’t asked anything about her, she wanted to learn more in person. She didn’t have any idea of where she lived, or why they were walking there. The light road was next to them, separated from the sidewalk by a sparce row of trees.

“For my curiosity, very. In practice, I don’t know. Probably pointless, to be honest.”

“How can better be pointless?”

“There is a reason nobody bothers making that quality of nanites. The standard quality is the most cost-effective regarding energy and resources per use and production. Higher quality costs too much for the scant improvement it provides, while lower quality breaks and has to be replaced too often to be worth what is saved.” Zax stopped and glanced sideways at her. She nodded her understanding. “But that’s only because of how we use nanotechnology nowadays. That is to say, mostly niche, little known applications and small-scale item production. Macrites are usually enough, and nanites are only used once we are skilled enough it makes a difference and does not waste any.”

“Macrites? No, wait, I remember, that’s… micron-sized nanites, right?”

“Correct. The machines can only be called nanites if the average size of the set falls below one micrometre. The actual threshold is not that precise, and laymen say ‘nanites’ for everything too small to be distinguished by the naked eye, but it is an important distinction to determine their properties and possible uses.”

“So in your job, you mostly use macrites to build or fix things, but the… swarm’s… are too small to be used in the same way?”

“Correct again! See, you’re not totally dumb.” Zax smirked.

“I never said I was!” Aran pouted, her tail bristling.

“A mix of macrites and big nanites, actually.” Zax casually ignored his own sidetrack. “And I could learn how to use the swarm for the same result, find smaller structures with the same properties, but why bother? It would increase my invoice but not the quality of my work.”

“I get it. Only useful for your own personal scientific curiosity.” Aran let the bad joke pass without comment. She would have her revenge later.

“Not just mine, I hope. And to be fair, there are a lot of incredible applications. We just can’t use them.” Zax nodded.

“Like what? And why not?” Aran had a hunch, but asked anyways.

“Small macrites and big nanites can get in a cell and out without damaging it, but nothing more, and not just any cells. Some are too brittle or sensitive. I think the C-nanites are small enough to have several per cell, maybe even per organelle.”

“Organelle?”

“The components of the cell. You know, nucleus, mitochondria…”

“Oh. That’s… a lot of machines per cell.” She winced, a shiver running down her spine and bristling her tail. “Doesn’t feel safe.”

“Neither are extreme sports, or letting magnets levitate and move your body at high speed. Doesn’t stop people from doing it.” Zax countered, pointing at the light-road and its occasional traveller. “Nanites small and numerous enough could be used to instantly fix blood vessels, selectively kill sick or unwanted cells, make quick and accurate diagnostics – what I already do –, replacing failing organs maybe? Supporting them at least. And that’s just on top of my head. They would totally be worth the effort to make them and the special train without that stupid ignorant public stigma.”

Aran’s hunch was right. His frustration was palpable, so she quickly diverted the conversation towards a topic he would enjoy more:

“So, what are your plans for the swarm?”

“Well, the obvious first step is to determine their inherent properties. I just have the basics so far. I must confirm if they are as good as I think they are and how well my software can use them. A change of scale can mean a change in basic mechanics and interactions, so it might need to be reworked. If all is well, I don’t know… to create a living sculpture? It would be awesome, and it could help me study mutations with an actual model.”

“A living sculpture?”

“Like a stone sculpture, but with nanites. They can be programmed to make movements and reactions, but it takes a lot of patience and skill to make it realistic.”

“How realistic do you want it?” She was intrigued.

“I don’t know… able to be sick, have moods, feel and react to pain and so on? Well, imitate those behaviours at least. Ideally, feeding them with actual ores or metals and excreting treated materials. Maybe ordered bundles of nanites with similar qualities? I may include a reproductive system, if only for completion’s sake.”

“… a miniature smelter-production unit?” The tailed girl had a hard time wrapping her head around the idea. “And even without that, that sounds… ambitious.”

“I don’t know what size, and yes it is!” Zax enthusiastically nodded. “If they are good enough, a well-programmed cluster of C-nanites might be able to imitate different cells. The shape driving the function. Division and apoptosis. It would probably take years to get close to a viable organism from scratch, but that’s where the fun is. And once I made a suitable basic model, I can try alterations to see how it will affect the whole. Test how mutations work, what can be done and how. Fun, isn’t it?”

“Crazy.” Was the matter-of-fact reply.

“Heh, yes, that too. Even without the complexity, I would need a special container to protect them from disruption fields.” He relented. “But yes, it was just the first thing I thought about, nothing more than a pipe dream. I’m not even sure of what those nanites can or can’t do yet. On the other hand, what’s the point of a dream you’ll be done with tomorrow? The pursuit is most of the fun.”

“Alright, but why did you call that a sculpture? It sounds wrong, somehow…” Aran pondered.

“Ah, it’s an old exercise. My teacher had those… see-through boxes half filled with marbles that were actually giant nanites. Mocrites, she called them, but I’m not sure it’s an actual word.”

“Neat.”

“Really? I was disappointed and/or creeped out the first time. We trained by programming the contents to shape into different things. And I’m sure you can imagine, anything make of glued marbles is ugly, unpracticable, uncomfortable… you get the idea. The box wasn’t that large either, so our options were limited. As we improved, there were more restrictions, and we were allowed to use smaller marbles. The boxes were always half full, but the marbles eventually became seeds, then sand, then powder... you get the idea. Still mocrites though, they could always be distinguished with the naked unmutated eye. Every time we passed a threshold, she did a demonstration of what that new scale meant. And those examples usually involved animated living sculptures.

Once I understood how difficult what she was doing so casually was, I was in awe at that level of skill. I had no idea nanotechnology could be that awesome. Awesome at all, to be honest.”

“I thought you loved nanotechnology?” Aran leaned her head sideways.

Cute.

“Eh, not at first glance.” Zax winced at the memory. “Or even second glance. I only focused on that field because it was the only thing my lack of mutation was useful for, and I only started because the job paid better than most other low-grade low-risk jobs. Not that most agree it’s low risk to work with nanotechnology in general.”

“Ah, right, you mentioned that before.”

“Well, now it’s an essential part of my life and I feel weird only having the balls in my pockets. And since I have the opportunity to work with the smallest nanites I have ever seen, I’d like to see if I can push the demonstration even further. I already went beyond what she did by refining the skeletal and muscle systems. Greatly raised the realism of the movements. The C-nanites could maybe make cells to imitate organs? Actually, maybe I can already do organs? I never tried…”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Oh? Why not?”

“It just… never occurred to me I guess?” Zax shrugged. “Ah, we missed a turn.”

He turned back and they walked in the opposite direction in companionable silence. When they arrived, Zax stepped in the building without warning, Aran following before she could figure where they were. She found out as soon as she stepped inside, vowing to stay silent until they had left the building.

A corridor, a staircase and two more corridors later, Zax was sitting in front of his teacher’s plaque.

Similar to all the memory plaques in the Remembrance, it was a metal rectangle among many others on the walls, displaying her name, function, date of birth and date of death. As was common, it had been personalised by visitors, hers with a low-relief portrait carved on the side, and a flower garland made of thin but sturdy metal framing the whole.

Aran stayed a respectful distance behind, making as little noise as she could. Zax was softly talking about his life in general, his recent adventure and his plans for the future. He occasionally paused in his retelling, listening to an unheard answer or reaction. He closed with the most important, his gratitude for the mark she had left on his life.

Before leaving, he put his bracelet against the bottom of the portrait. A wave went through the plaque, only visible through its effects, altering the decorations in subtle ways. It would be hard for a third party to say what it did, but the flowers were livelier, the stems and leaves more natural, the portrait’s gaze sterner. All the decorations were actually a network of nanites, hidden in plain sight.

When they had left the building Aran spoke her mind:

“I expected more nerding on nanites and quirky gadgets, but I’m glad we have looked in on your teacher nonetheless.”

Zax smiled a nod at her but didn’t answer. They kept walking in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. However, the tailed girl didn’t appreciate where they kept leading her, so she broke it with the first unrelated question coming to her.

“I can understand why we were walking before, but why are we still not taking the road?”

“Hm? Ah, right.” Zax shook his head, coming back to the present. “Well, thinking about the mark we leave when we are gone made me think of something I saw in the Core.”

“Something top-secret no one should know about?” She cautiously glanced at him.

“... a game the Founders played for emotional support. Well, maybe not the Founders. More likely the following generations, those that built the Core and lived in it, before the dot was sealed and safe. They left that… drawing in unexpected places. A memento that would stay a long time, that proved they had been there. I want to do something like that. I’m trying to see if I can find a suitable place, I have a few ideas. We can go home if you want, I’ll look later on my own.”

“That sounds interesting, but I thought you didn’t like outdoors activities? The only times I saw you use your body for fun was in VR/AR games and your workout at the gym. And helping for my template.”

“I don’t mind either way.” Zax shrugged. “I understand why some prefer it that way. There is… something that can’t be reproduced, even with the best VR and the deepest simulators there are. I don’t do it because it’s boring when you’re alone. Online, I can play with strangers, there is more variety, and it’s generally more convenient.”

“I take it you used to play outside a lot before?”

“Sort of. One of my friends was a free running enthusiast, and he kept convincing us to go to his latest challenges. Somehow.” A smile flickered on his face. They had a lot of fun following Ops around.

“Free running? Wait, you know parkour!?” Aran’s eyes widened.

“You don’t have to look that surprised.” Zax frowned at her excessive reaction.

“Sorry.” Aran looked down, her dropping tail radiating awkwardness.

Zax kept staring at her with a frown, his steps not skipping a beat, until she confessed.

“It’s just, when I was little, that’s what I wanted to do when I grew up. I never got to try, but it was awesome when I watched the videos.”

“What stopped you?”

“What?”

“If you had access to demo videos, you had access to events schedule, including the child initiation or all age beginner lessons. They are always looking for new blood. So, why did you never got to try?”

“… I was often sick. I didn’t get out much.” Her answer was barely a whisper. Not only her tail, her whole body was slouching, radiating gloominess.

“Well, you’re not sick anymore. Do you want to try?” Zax moved away from the touchy subject. He had purposefully never asked about her past. “Look, we can try simple exercises here. Two birds in one stone.”

Zax pointed to their destination, a park of the entertainment area.

Space was the most limited resource of the dot. It was surrounded by the first Circle on the sides, environmental conditions made any vertical growth a tremendous investment, and ground stability made digging difficult. The most logical course of action was to be as compact as possible, but the constant narrowness would be a hazard for mental health and could make it difficult for promising dotters to adapt to life outside it. The same was true for the lack of natural environment. Hence, at the Main Computer’s advice, it has been agreed to keep a few green and open places in the dot.

It had resulted in the most frequented roads being kept open and bordered with artificial trees, hidden loudspeakers broadcasting bird songs, and parks like the one they were moving to; spacious, with actual dirt and trees, and even a small, controlled ecosystem.

Open space being a rarity, they were also used in other ways, so long as the main functions were not impaired. Flower gardens, playpens and art exhibitions were a common sight depending on which area of the dot the park was in. Even small vegetable gardens were a possibility, although that had issues of its own.

They were in the entertainment area, with more grassy hills and plains than forests, with art pieces dotted here and there. A pleasant place to relax with your girlfriend, play with your children or wander on your own.

When they arrived in front of the main source of the stream, Zax explained his idea. The spring was high and slightly hidden to give the illusion of a waterfall, but with the trees around it wouldn’t be that hard to reach. Zax wanted to climb and put his mark inside the opening, or next to it if he couldn’t. Aran thought it was reckless but he had an answer for everything.

“Is that even parkour in a forest?”

“Sure, the same techniques would apply, but I am about to climb, not trace.”

“What if you fall?”

“One of the first things you learn in free running is how to fall safely. And if I do get hurt, my bracelet will call emergencies. And you are here. I won’t ask you to parry me, but you’re not going to just watch me bleed out, are you?”

“No, I mean, what if you get caught?”

“Then what? I’m not doing anything illegal.”

Zax found the question and her reaction confusing, but it was the last one, so up he went.

The trees were well maintained, so climbing was the easy part. The difficulty was reaching the opening from there. He could see it, a man-sized semi-circular hole a bit lower than his branch, with a thick grate to avoid getting in or out. Probably for birds and bats from one side and careless workers from the other. A slow but steady trickle or water was flowing, feeding the stream coursing the park. The grate was a bit deeper inside, roughly one step in. He couldn’t see much behind it, the light dimmed too fast, but he didn’t need to. He had the room he needed to land. That was good.

Now to reach it.

It wasn’t that far, but even ignoring the daunting height, his starting position wasn’t that stable, and he couldn’t exactly take a running start.

Still, nothing he hadn’t done before. When Ops the expert was around to give example, advice and reassurance. He would have to do that part himself.

Deep breaths. Stay calm. Anticipate your actions. Visualise what you have to do... Now do it!

Push against the trunk with both foot and both arms, not holding back – better too much force than not enough – throw right foot and right hand forward, brace for impact, touch ground, complete landing. Keep on breathing.

Before Zax realised, he was on the other side. Both his feet were flat on the wet ground, but he had slightly overshot. He reflexively grabbed on the grate to stop his fall, but he didn’t expect to push it open and ended up sprawling on the wet floor. He wanted to stay down and wallow in his embarrassment a moment, but as slow as the stream was, it was high enough to cover his face and drown him.

“Zax? You okay in there?” Aran’s voice reached him from outside.

The tracer amateur went to the edge of the opening to answer:

“I’m fine, do you want to come? It shouldn’t be hard, and I can catch you if you do it wrong.”

“Why are you all drenched?”

“It’s nothing, just a surprise during landing.”

“You’re not exactly filling me with confidence right now!”

“Haha don’t worry.” Zax chuckled. “There’s a grate here and I didn’t notice it could open. Anyways, you have until I am done here to decide, I shouldn’t be long.”

First things first, he tried to close the grate. Tried, because there was no lock in sight. Looking more attentively, there was no doorframe either, the moving bars of the gate simply touched the fixed ones on the wall. It was basically invisible when closed. That explained how he had missed it, but what was the point?

On the other hand, the design was a crafty one; the edge of the bars was bevelled so the door could only open away from the opening. It wouldn’t be pushed open by a strong water flow. The hinges were springs imbedded inside the bars to protect and hide them when the door was closed, and the slight resistance when he tried to push it back open revealed magnets at the junctions to prevent accidental openings.

As long as no one jumped at it.

Pushing the useless thoughts away, he came back to his task.

A command from his bracelet changed his nanite balls into a rudimentary but sturdy stone knife. Not ideal without a hammer, but it would do. He opened the door as far as it would go, climbed it like a ladder and craved his five-line mark on the ceiling. It wouldn’t be found before a while; this place was rarely visited, and people never looked up.

Perfect.

He hadn’t pondered long over the design, opting for something simple, easy to make, identify when you knew and ignore when you didn’t. It started with a ‘Z’, slightly lengthening the lower line, from there a vertical line until the middle, followed by a diagonal line down and left, parallel to the Z’s own, until it was below the starting point. A ‘Z’ and an ‘X’ were easy to see. An ‘A’ was trickier, but unnecessary.

He was pondering if he should add “was here” when an unnatural loud splash echoed behind him, deeper in the tunnel.

“Someone here?” Zax shouted, climbing down the door without turning away from the darkness.

Nothing answered but a slow, heavy breathing. Whatever it was sounded angry enough to lash out at the closest target, and large enough to fill the tunnel. Or maybe that was the echo. The human couldn’t see anything, but a foul scent reached him despite the still air. It reeked of sweat, wet feathers, and puke. Was it even a person?

In any case, it didn’t feel particularly peaceful. Or civilised.