by Inc. HDWP
His thoughts turned toward his parents and his sister, unable to be reached by any means. Even if he knew where they were, there was no time to get back to his house and still escape the planet. It was the decision Sam always regretted, but knew they would've been happy for him to live on if the four of them couldn't.
Sam shook the despair away and knew what needed to be done. Martell Tower was eight blocks away from the docks where cargo ships swapped out their hauls. Even with all the noise, Sam could still hear the telltale sound of thruster blasts hurling ships off world. He forced his way through the paralyzed crowd, pushing and shoving anyone in his path. Sam moved almost as if a giant hand was pushing him from behind. His own hands were held out and shoving all human obstacles away. One bulky man blocking the path became the recipient of an elbow to the throat, Sam recalled when one particular man was an unmovable object the first go around. This time he never saw it coming and Sam's elbow seared in pain while he hurdled the fallen giant.
Once off the first block, each subsequent street was less occupied than the last as Ivish residents retreated indoors for their lives. Two, three, four blocks. Sam had seen only three people total and the sounds of street life faded into the far distance. By now his heart was pumping at full-steam. His palms dripped sweat like a faucet and his lungs burned more than his elbow with each sulfur-filled breath he sucked in. Sam moved at a breakneck pace, but was dramatically slowed by the sheer lack of visibility. Block five, just as empty. The short street began fading away as the sulfur descended even further. Sam ducked down slightly and realized it was now hovering just above his eye line and dropping further by the minute.
A faint whirring of an engine came from behind and grew louder. In seconds the sounds of a car barreling down the street drew closer. Sam ran so fast his teeth chattered. He nearly fell over himself, but the extra strides proved enough as the sulfur-cloaked car could be heard slamming into a building just a few feet behind him. Sam could feel the boiling motor heat burn his skin from the fire he couldn't see.
Sam ran the final blocks hunched over just so he could see past the cloud enough to make out the pattern changes in the pavement. Luckily he'd walked to the docks many times and he was familiar with the route even without his vision. Black pavement changed to rough concrete, which changed to dirt and gravel. Sam had made it to the docks.
It was only upon entering the area that Sam could hear the emergency beacons echoing across the line of empty docking spaces and repeating from the few remaining ships.
"Dock occupants!" Sam yelled through a cough.
The dock's audible system picked up the query and spoke back. "Space three, seven, nineteen all occupied. Please note emergency evacuation sequence has been activated," the cheery synthesized female said.
Of the hundreds of trips Sam had made to the docks, he knew the dock entrance had him facing directly at the space where ship seven would be docked. The Horizon. Sam moved forward only to have his lungs flair up and ignite a coughing fit, leaving him gasping for air. His body wretched as he fell to his hands and knees. He wiped the stream of tears away from his burning eyes and forced his head upright to look forward. He had to get a sense of how far the Horizon was. It took much longer than he remembered, but the ship was only thirty feet away. Sam gathered all his strength and pushed himself up to his feet. He had to get to that ship. Two steps was all his body could take before he collapsed again and gasped for what air remained.
Sam crawled. Gravel pushed and cut into his palms and knees. He knew he was bleeding. He knew the sulfur was setting the cuts on fire. Sam didn't care. With each heavy breath he moved through the sharp gravel field toward the ship. Inch by inch the cloud lowered, almost in relativity with his movement forward. This wasn't what happened the first time. The cloud had never been this low when he sprinted to the docks. The planet still had time to live before all air and life was crushed from the surface.
He'd crawled about twenty feet when another coughing fit took over and this time blood filled his mouth. He spit out a thick wad of bloody saliva and pushed on. Thruster blasts rang out nearby, almost causing Sam to lose all his hearing. It left him disoriented as one of the three remaining ships had taken off. He moved forward just another foot when he felt the cloud cover his face at its new level. Sam turned his head and rested his cheek against the gravel. Sharp points pierced the skin, setting his face on fire like the rest of his body from the toxic atmosphere. Burning tears filled his eyes as a second ship could be heard taking off in the distance. Spot nineteen was now empty.
The cloud had thickened at this new near-ground level. Visibility was nonexistent. Sam reached an arm out and his hand disappeared into the cloud floating just over the surface. He gripped a divot in the ground and pulled himself forward another couple of feet. He could hear the low rumble of a ship just out of arm's reach. Over that were the shouts of two people working to undock the ship. Sam tried to scream, but choked on the sulfur. His body convulsed from the lack of air, yet was drowned out by the sounds of the ship's engines powering up. Sam tossed another hand into the cloud and pulled himself forward again. Over all the sound he heard a shout.
"That's it! Let's go before we can't take off!"
Horror gripped Sam and he pulled himself forward again. His lips kissed the ground pulling the last gasps of air out of the planet's surface. His hand stretched out again and he felt metal. The ship! It was the edge of the cargo door. Sam tried to grip it, but his fingertips barely grazed the thick metal. He hurled his body forward, but only moved a few inches. It was enough. Sam grabbed the door with his outstretched hand and smiled. The cold metal seemed to electrify him. Sam's grip was weak, but he flexed his fingers and took hold again to make the final push forward onto the Horizon's open door.
The loud whining of a hydraulic motor rang out and Sam felt the door begin to rise up. It elevated along his closed hand, snapping upward as it broke the grip of his fingertips. No, this can't be it!
Sam thrust his body forward like a worm and frantically swung his arm about. He searched, flailing his limbs for any piece of metal. Any piece of hope. Sam's head hit the gravel to suck any air into his convulsing body. His fingers and forearm was still invisible through the thick sulfur cloud choking Ivish and himself.
The air was thin and each gasp brought less into his lungs. Sam's mind was swimming as he began losing all sense of direction. The stoked fire within him burst out like a thousand needles and Sam would've shouted if any air remained in his lungs. The yellow cloud coated his eyes as it descended into its final place along the surface of Ivish. The yellow world faded in and out as his body convulsed for an ounce of breathable air.
Sam's body began to shut down and give into the eternal sleep before him. As his eyes closed the last thing he heard were the sounds of the Horizon taking off for deep space, minus one future lieutenant.
Nano Nation
CM Stewart
1
A single lit window illuminates the walkway circling the medical research wing of the Institute for Ethics and Emerging Technologies. Rachel slowly steps on the center of the walkway, letting her rubber soles grip the trail of ice-melt. Twenty feet from the doors, a bubbling fountain sprays miniature ice crystals along the rim of the fountain basin. A few pennies balance on the edge. Frowning, Rachel walks a wide circle around the wishing well and pulls the door handle with a gloved finger. She steps inside the lobby and stomps the snow off her boots. After glancing around and seeing no one, she pulls a miniature sanitizer can from her coat pocket and sprays her gloved finger.
“I don’t blame you,” a voice echoes from the corridor.
Rachel jumps.
“This is where ill people get their ill pills. They all get together in one place and give their ills to each other. Keeps me in business.”
“Terrill!” Rachel laughs. “You startled me.”
“Sorry.” Dr. Terrill shrugs. “I thought I’d meet you in the lobby. What do you think of the new wishing well
? I insisted the contractors install heat panels, so we could have a bubbling wishing well year-round.”
“Seems like an accident magnet. I’d be worried about somebody slipping. Looks like there’s an ice build-up underneath.”
They walk side-by-side down the corridor to the elevator.
“You’re my worst patient.”
“Worst? Gee, thanks.”
Terrill laughs. “You’re too careful. You never have accidents. And you never get sick. What kind of a patient is that?”
“You have a point. I hope I can prove my value in some other way.” She smiles.
Terrill purses his lips. He returns her smile and presses the elevator button.
“By the way, you look great, Terrill. Amazing, actually.” She takes a step back and admires his smooth, tanned skin and thick black hair. “You look ten years younger.”
“Must be the elevator light.” He says, studying the row of numbers above the door. The elevator dings at the top floor, and they step out. Terrill gestures down the hall, and Rachel leads the way to the examination room.
“I don’t remember this being here last time.” Rachel points to a wall with a recessed computer screen surrounded by rows of switches and dials.
“Yes, that’s new. It’s the control panel for my new supercomputer. I designed it myself.”
“Now you’re a hardware engineer? First you went into medicine, then you got into volcanology, and now…” She squints at her reflection in the polished silver casing. She presses the back of her hand underneath her chin, then tucks a lock of grey hair behind her ear. “Now you’re building computers.”
“Computer hardware is really straightforward, once you learn the basics. I learned how to do it in bits and pieces over the last few months. Any time I had a few extra minutes at lunch.” Terrill’s eye twitches, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.
Rachel looks at Terrill and laughs. “And you’ve developed your sense of humor. You’re full of surprises.” She hangs her coat on a wall hook and sits on the examination table.
Terrill nods, then lets out a chuckle. “You are right.” He winks. He brings up her patient file on the computer screen. “So how’ve you been? Any new health concerns since last month?”
“Nothing major.” Rachel shrugs. “Just the usual tiredness from my tour schedule. And my hand feels a little stiff. I must’ve signed 200 copies of my book at my last stop.”
Terrill slips a blood pressure cuff on Rachel’s arm. “Yes, I saw that one in the news. Strategies for Wellness and Longevity. Congratulations on making the best-seller list.”
“Thanks. I’m glad I’m able to reach so many people. What was considered fringe science a few years ago is now becoming mainstream. And of course, I owe a big part of my success to you. Your research made my book possible.”
“And your book is giving our research the publicity we need to bring in more people.”
“Our research?”
“My research. The institute’s research.” Terrill’s eye twitches. He reaches for his nose, but stops when he sees Rachel staring at him. “Any changes in your diet or exercise routine?”
“No. Mostly fresh fruit and veggies, plus the mushroom extract and seaweed powder you recommended. And I swim one mile every day.”
“Great. Still taking your supplements?”
Rachel yawns, covering her mouth with her hand. “Excuse me. Only a few hours sleep in the last couple days.” The blood pressure monitor beeps. “Yes, I’m taking my supplements every day.”
“Great.” He slips the cuff off Rachel’s arm, sits in a chair, and records her pulse. “Now all we have to do is fix your chronic exhaustion and carpal tunnel syndrome with Nano-Infix.” He spins around in the chair, opens a drawer, and pulls out a syringe, a rubber tourniquet, and a sterilization kit. “Then you’ll be perfect.”
“Nano-Infix? Is that one of your new pills?”
He turns to face her. “It’s better than any pill. Nano-Infix is a nanobot injection. To fix your bodily damage.”
“Well, this is big news, Terrill! Why didn’t you tell me about this last month? Why hasn’t the press been all over this?”
“I didn’t get the formula perfect until a week ago. And the injection is still technically a prototype. It’s derived from crystalline structures I found in the Marsili volcano off the coast of Italy.”
“You found crystals in a volcano?”
“A dormant volcano. And these crystals had replication properties which mimicked proto-life forms.”
Rachel frowns. “So they’re kind of… alive?”
“Yes, they were kind of alive. But I grew a few of the more robust samples on an electrified carbon lattice. Though several thousand replications, I was able to direct their evolution. Now they’re nanobots, engineered to replicate and recursively self-improve inside their hosts.” Terrill takes a deep breath. “So, you see, you getting this injection is the only way to advance the Nano-Infix beyond the prototype stage.”
“This injection is untested? You mean I’m the first to get it?”
“The first human patient, yes.” Terrill’s eye starts twitching. “But I tested it on fifty lab rats, and after one week, puncture wounds, bacterial infections, and viral infections healed almost immediately.”
“That’s amazing. You haven’t you tested it on yourself?”
Terrill stands up and turns his back. “If I tested it on myself, I’d get biased results.” He runs the hot faucet until the water steams, washes his hands, and puts on rubber gloves. “I’m too close to the project to make an objective assessment.” He turns back around toward Rachel, the heel of his hand pressed against his eye.
“Is your eye okay?”
He uncovers his eye and chuckles. “Just a few too many late nights. I’m sure you can relate.” He gently grabs her wrist and swabs the inside of her elbow.
“Wait.” Rachel withdraws her arm. “I think I’d rather wait until the injection is tested in people.”
Terrill takes a step back and blinks. “Sure, Rachel. If you’d like to wait ten or twenty years for FDA approval, go ahead. But I hope in ten or twenty years the FDA will actually approve Nano-Infix, and not shelve it because it would cut into the profits of Big Pharma.”
Rachel sighs. “You have a point. It’s not that I doubt Nano-Infix works, it’s just what you said about recursive self-improvement.”
“Yes, I programmed them to evolve in a mammalian environment. That way I could test them in lab rats before letting people get the injections.”
“But do the nanobots keep evolving?”
“Of course. That way they can keep fighting new damage and new disease.”
“And they’re intelligent?”
“Why, yes. They run on software based on quantum theory.”
“Sounds like they have free will.” Rachel frowns. “What if the nanobot goals are not the same as my goals?”
Terrill chuckles, and he presses his finger against his eyelid. “You know there’s no such thing as free will. You told me you were a rational determinist back in college, remember? Or have you since turned your brain over to magical thinking?”
“No, I mean-”
“And the nanobots are specifically programmed to repair and maintain their host at optimum levels. Rachel, I’ll level with you as your friend.” He sits in the chair. “You’re thirty-seven, and you’ve been lucky so far. Aside from a little premature grey, you look and act young, strong, and healthy. No crippling accidents in your life, no debilitating diseases, and your genome looks great. I don’t want to see you lose any of that. You’re in a unique position to inform the world of the benefits of nanotechnology. And I’m offering you a way to theoretical immortality.”
Rachel gasps. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Just think, Rachel, you could live your life without fear, without the cloud of mortality hanging over your head.”
Rachel bites her lip. “All this is a bit overwhelming.” She studi
es Terrill’s face. “The lab rats – do they look and act like normal lab rats?”
“To be perfectly honest, no. They don’t show any physical or mental signs of aging. At the start of the experiment, the rats were all three years old, well into old age for rats. They all exhibited significant decline in physical and cognitive function. Now, after the Nano-Infix injections, they all look and behave like one year-old rats, in peak health and ability. Would you like to see them?”
“No thanks.” Rachel shivers. “Rats give me the willies. Even lab rats.”
Terrill reaches for her hand, and she complies. He pats her fingers. “We’re on the verge of the most important medical advancement the world could imagine. And you, Rachel Fenster, can lead the way.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all this before you pulled out the Nano-Infix?”
Terrill squeezes his eyes shut. “I guess I’m just used to working with lab rats. I’m sorry, I should’ve explained everything before offering the injection. Do you forgive me?” He opens his eyes.
“Of course, don’t be silly.”
Terrill breathes a sign of relief. “Okay, let’s get you Nano-Infixed.”
Rachel opens her mouth to say something, but it turns into a yawn.
“In a couple of days, your exhaustion and wrist pain will be gone. And immortality – the pleasure-extending power we’ve all wished for – will be within your grasp.” He ties the tube around Rachel’s arm and re-swabs her skin.
“That’s a huge needle.”
“It’s the most efficient size for this type of injection. You’re not suddenly squeamish about needles, are you?”
“Of course not. Needles don’t bother me. I just didn’t know they made them that big.”
Rachel stares at the wall while Terrill positions the needle over her vein. He slides the needle through her skin and depresses the plunger. Rachel winces. “Feels like ice in my vein.” She looks at Terrill, and sees he is smiling.
