Nanotroopers Episode 16: ANAD on Ice

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by Philip Bosshardt


Nanotroopers

  Episode 16: ANAD on Ice

  Copyright 2016 Philip Bosshardt

  A few words about this series….

  *** Nanotroopers is a series of 15,000- 20,000 word episodes detailing the adventures of Johnny Winger and his experiences as a nanotrooper with the United Nations Quantum Corps.

  *** Each episode will be about 40-50 pages, approximately 20,000 words in length.

  *** A new episode will be available and uploaded every 3 weeks.

  *** There will be 22 episodes. The story will be completely serialized in about 14 months.

  *** Each episode is a stand-alone story but will advance the greater theme and plot of the story arc.

  *** The main plotline: U.N. Quantum Corps must defeat the criminal cartel Red Hammer’s efforts to steal or disable their new nanorobotic ANAD systems.

  Episode #TitleApproximate Upload Date

  1‘Atomgrabbers’1-14-16

  2‘Nog School’2-8-16

  3‘Deeno and Mighty Mite’2-29-16

  4‘ANAD’3-21-16

  5‘Table Top Mountain’4-11-16

  6‘I, Lieutenant John Winger…’5-2-16

  7‘Hong Chui’5-23-16

  8‘Doc Frost’6-13-16

  9‘Demonios of Via Verde’7-5-16

  10‘The Big Bang’7-25-16

  11‘Engebbe’8-15-16

  12‘The Symbiosis Project’9-5-16

  13‘Small is All!’9-26-16

  14‘’The HNRIV Factor’10-17-16

  15‘A Black Hole’11-7-16

  16‘ANAD on Ice’11-29-16

  17‘Lions Rock’12-19-16

  18‘Geoplanes’1-9-17

  19‘Mount Kipwezi’1-30-17

  20‘Doc II’2-20-17

  21‘Paryang Monastery’3-13-17

  22‘Epilogue’4-3-17

  Chapter 1

  “The Mentor”

  U.N. Quantum Corps Base

  Table Top, Idaho, USA

  July 5, 2049

  0600 hours U.T.

  Johnny Winger finished dressing himself in front of the mirror. It was early, light just leaking into his tiny O Quarters room around the curtains and he knew Major Kraft had called a briefing at Mission Ops for 0630 hours. He snapped the last buttons on his tunic and spied the shimmering veil of the angel drifting like smoke by the door.

  “Doc, you’re just like a dog ready for his walk. Any scuttlebutt on what all this is about?”

  The Doc II swarm brightened noticeably, an effect that Winger had noticed from the beginning. Like a dog wagging his tail, he figured. Only this wasn’t just any old ANAD swarm. This was something Doc Frost himself had concocted and left for others to discover after he’d been consumed in the Containment accident a few months before.

  ***Parsing interrogative from Config Winger, J…I have been inspecting all available sensor logs, comm sessions, satlinks and vid footage that I can access…no clear patterns of activity, Johnny…there are some indications of Red Hammer activity in Greenland and Antarctica…this from Solnet reports in recent days…perhaps a new threat is arising***

  Winger grabbed his wristpad and snapped it on. “No doubt you’re not even cleared for half that stuff. Doc, you can’t just drift around, diving into computers and grabbing bits left and right. We’ve got rules and regulations about that around here. General Kincade approved you to stand outside containment in loose config for awhile. Don’t blow it, okay? That’s what ANAD did and now he’s all cooped up in my shoulder capsule like a pet.”

  This made the Doc II swarm brighten even more. It flickered and strobed by the door in what Winger had long thought was some kind of swarm equivalent of a thought.

  ***ANAD made mistakes, Johnny…I can see that now…his processor is too sensitive to upsets and glitches…my processor is more advanced, more reliable…I have self-healing algorithms and multiple logic paths for ninety-five point two percent of all operations***

  “Yeah, and your coat is all shiny too. Come on…let’s go. We’re late as it is.”

  They departed the O Quarters barracks and hustled along the graveled path that cut across the quadrangle in front of Ops. Other troopers from 1st and 2nd Nano were already up ahead, all of them heading straight for the Mission bunker at the north end of the mesa. It was just dawn on top of Table Top, but already stiff mountain breezes were blowing across the grounds. Overhead, a crescent moon shone hard and bright in a cloudless sky.

  Winger felt a presence coming up from behind. It was Lieutenant Gabrielle Galland, c/o of 2nd Nano. The Doc II swarm trailed them both, drifting toward the bunker on its picowatt propulsors like a patch of morning fog.

  “Taking your pet for an early morning stroll, Wings?” Gabrielle sprinted to catch up. “I don’t see any pooper scooper…you know how Ironpants is about messing up his grounds.”

  “Very funny. Doc said he’s picked up a scent, by the way. Maybe something stirring down south, in the Antarctic. Could be that’s what Kraft’s briefing us about.”

  “Brrr…” Galland gave a mock shiver. “Why is it nanotroopers can’t ever catch a break…like getting a mission in the south Pacific…some place warm and cozy?”

  “Yeah, some place like an asteroid. I felt pretty warm and cozy when we’re plunging down through the atmosphere at seven kilometers a second.”

  “I’m just glad none of those rocks landed on our heads.” Galland looked back at the approaching swarm that was Doc II. “I’ll have to admit I’m still having trouble getting used to clouds of bots floating around the mountain like smoke. It’s a big mistake, if you ask me. Maybe I’m old fashioned, but I like my swarms in containment, where they should be.”

  They came finally to the security station at the front of the Mission bunker and were scanned inside, going through all the biometrics and checks for about the millionth time.

  “Gabby, you’re just a troglodyte, that’s all. Loose configs…it’s all the rage. Plus this is no ordinary garden-variety ANAD. This is Doc II.”

  They waited a few minutes for Doc II to catch up. At the security station, the swarm hovered patiently while it was quickly scanned and probed. Pronounced cleared, Doc II wafted forward into the vestibule outside the briefing theater. Two dozen nanotroopers had gathered in the small space, and a din of good-natured kidding, bad jokes and raucous laughs filled the air. When Doc II seeped in among them, though, the commotion died off to a few murmurs and mutterings. All eyes turned to Winger and Galland.

  Sheila Reaves spoke first, a bit more correctly than was normal for the DPS tech. “Good morning, Lieutenant. Both of you. I see that Doc II will be with us today.”

  Winger knew there was still a lot of skepticism and even a little anxiety among the platoon about allowing botswarms to wander around in loose config, outside of containment. “It’s okay, fellas. He won’t bite. He just came through full security screening, so he’s copacetic. Just treat him like ANAD, like another trooper.”

  “Yes, sir, but you can’t normally see right through other troopers, sir.” That was Sergeant Hoyt Gibbs, one of the newbies. “Policy’s always been to keep the bugs in containment. Sir.”

  “True enough,” Winger admitted. “But times change and policy better keep up. Look, I know what you’re all thinking. Your ANADs went berserk on Hicks-Newman. We nearly lost some good troopers. But it was bad quantum signals, Keeper signals according to Q2, that did that. The basic design’s sound. We’ve used ANAD for all kinds of missions over the last few months. And besides, Doc II here is not really an AN
AD swarm. He’s got capabilities we’re just beginning to explore.”

  “That’s what worries me, sir,” said Nicole Simonet.

  Winger had long felt disappointed that his fellow troopers didn’t see the value of Doc II or even ANAD beyond their immediate mission needs. Major Kraft had once reminded him that being in command was like being in a fish bowl. You were isolated but every little burp and fart was scrutinized for meaning. There seemed to be a growing disconnect with the platoon and it had only gotten worse with the problems ANAD had given them on Hicks-Newman. To many in 1st Nano, ANAD was only one more piece of gear or another weapon. And it was worse with Doc II…he might as well have been a circus freak…or a curiosity.

  Briefing time was at hand and the crowd filed into the briefing theater. Moments later, Major Kraft came in. As one, the troopers rose abruptly to attention.

  Kraft waved everybody back down. “At ease, troopers. Make yourself comfortable. Word from Q2 is we’ve got a real clusterfuck brewing near the South Pole.”

  For Major Jurgen Kraft, the commanding officer of 1st Nanospace Battalion, briefings at Table Top were always a royal pain in the ass. It wasn’t so much the formality and the time involved in ‘putting on a show’, as it was all the little things you had to do whenever the brass linked in from remote sites…the special details like side presentations to expand on certain points, enhanced video and animation, sim packages from SOFIE to help with decisions.

  At least, nobody’s figured out how to do coffee and doughnuts over the WorldNet yet, he told himself.

  If anything, today’s briefing would be worse…half the command leadership of UNIFORCE was vidlinked in to the briefing theater. Whatever it was, it was big.

  CINCQUANT himself, in the person of General Wolfus Linx was on one screen, linked in from Paris. The Commander in Chief was a bearded, fierce-eyed Teutonic warrior whose name carried the merest hint of ferocity barely contained. Linx had a withering glare that no amount of distance could dissipate.

  Kraft involuntarily shuddered every time he glanced over at the screen.

  Also linked in from UNIFORCE Headquarters on the Rue du Montaigne was Rene Camois, an Assistant Deputy to the Director General. Mssr. Camois was to Kraft an unknown quantity, though he was highly enough placed to be obnoxious if he wanted to be. Camois was on hand to represent the office of the DG himself, and thus spoke with the absolute authority of the top commander. Even Linx had to defer to the DG.

  One other vidlink completed the trio of screens that lined one wall of the briefing theater. His name was Hector Gallegos, and from what Kraft had read of the précis’, Gallegos was Argentine, said to be the chief inspector of the Ministry of Public Health in that South American country. Gallegos had data from some kind of environmental ‘disturbance’ in the Tierra del Fuego region that was the official impetus for the briefing.

  Assembled in the briefing theater along with the vidlinked participants were several others.

  Kraft acknowledged Lieutenant Johnny Winger, 1st Nanospace Platoon, the Battalion’s top code and stick man for nearly a year with a perfunctory nod. Winger had been Kraft’s personal project in building an effective commander for nanoscale combat operations. Winger was the wonder boy of the Corps, and Kraft took a perverse delight in both showing off his prize commander to the brass and then roughly reminding the kid who was really in charge.

  Also on hand was Lieutenant Gabrielle Galland, 2nd Nanospace Platoon, and every bit the equal of Winger in raw ability, though she didn’t have Winger’s charisma or guts.

  Kraft brought the briefing to order and acknowledged all the participants.

  “Quantum Corps got tasking at 0430 hours this morning from UNSAC to convene a briefing for the purpose of determining what tripped BioShield yesterday. Take a look at this—“ Kraft racked up some footage from space.

  The imagery came up, a series of increasingly high resolution pictures in visual and infrared wavelengths. Finally, the display settled down into one of an overhead view of massive ice cliffs calving off into the sea. Icebergs could be seen in the distance.

  “Weathersats took these images yesterday. There’s a bubble of altered atmosphere expanding around the South Pole. It’s accelerating rapidly and, as a result, the ice cap’s melting faster than ever. With the sea level rising by six centimeters every week, UNIFORCE estimates half the world’s coastal cities will be flooded in a month. UNSAC has given us a new mission. General Linx has ordered us to conduct an operation against probable Red Hammer activity in the Antarctic. Have you got ANAD ready to engage the enemy?”

  Winger explained some of the changes Doc II had helped them make to ANAD’s architecture and programming. “It worked well enough in the sims, Major. We’re ready to take ‘em on.”

  “Then get your ass back to the ready room pronto, Lieutenant, when this briefing is over. I’ll work up a basic mission plan and squirt it to you. Antarctica’s the worst now, but there are bubbles growing all over the world: the Congo River basin, Tibet, the south Pacific, Patagonia and the Caucasus Mountains. Earth’s atmosphere is under assault and nothing UNIFORCE tries seems to be working. The politicos are frantic. ANAD’s our best hope.”

  “ANAD’s ready to get back in the fight, Major.”

  “Good.” Kraft’s face seemed relieved to finally hear some good news. “You’ll be engaging the enemy swarms at Lake Vostok.”

  General Linx spoke up from Paris. “Lieutenant, this operation has to work…we have to find a way to slow down these bubbles, slow down the ice cap melting. If we can’t…millions of people are going to die and there isn’t a damned thing we can do about it. World Meteorological Organization will get you the latest intel.”

  Gallegos, the Argentine scientist, pinged for attention from Buenos Aires. He said, “These bubbles of toxic air have already started to filter up from Antarctica into our territory. We’re taking measurements in real time, all around Tierra del Fuego, and points north from there, well into Patagonia. The aire toxico has already killed hundreds…there are villages full of nothing but corpses. Even the beaches smell of death. It’s like a demonio, I can tell you that much. We’ve been combing the area with inspection teams from the Ministry for the last few days.”

  Gallegos was a compact, dark-haired man, with steel-rim glasses. He consulted some notes off-screen.

  “The results of our inspections were surprising,” Gallegos noted. “I’m sending the compiled data now.” A new squirt off the satellite refreshed all screens and several plots and graphs materialized into view.

  “BioShield data showed the center of this perturbation was in the vicinity of a small village called Iniquel. The territory is among the islands and archipelagos of lower Tierra del Fuego. This territory is home to a small tribe called Yemana…or, I should say, was. The Yemana were a protected tribe, basically Bronze Age indigenous people which our government was trying to protect from whalers and oil companies and all the tourists.”

  General Linx cut in gruffly. “Doctor, BioShield has a mandate to search for airborne nanobotic mechanisms and that’s all. If BioShield was tripped, some kind of nanoscale mechanism was in play, replicating in the area.”

  “I thought the same,” Gallegos admitted. “When we arrived at the site, our investigators noticed right away a sort of aires toxico, a kind of bubble or zone of toxic air had developed. In and around Iniquel, the Yemana tribe had all died, of asphyxiation. Scores of them. We did auto-autopsy on several and discovered the symptoms you see on your screens…hypercapnia, blue lips and cheeks, excessive concentrations of CO2 and other toxic gases in their blood and lungs.”

  “Excuse me, Doctor…” It was Rene Camois. “You said the entire tribe had died?”

  “We found no survivors. The air in and around the village and along the shores of the island for several kilometers up and downstream was composed of gases in the concentrations I have displayed here…as you can see, to
xic levels of fluorine and chlorine, carbon dioxide and reduced levels of oxygen and nitrogen.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” Kraft studied the data. “Normal air is seventy-eight percent nitrogen and twenty-one percent oxygen. This is all cock-eyed…are you sure your instruments are calibrated, Doctor?”

  “Perfectly,” Gallegos said. “The air even affected me and my inspectors. We had to vacate the area…it was too dangerous for us there. No, the data are real, gentlemen. There is a bubble or zone of toxic air over dozens of square kilometers of lower Tierra del Fuego and the surrounding territory and it’s expanding outward. We’re not sure where the source is, though some evidence suggests it’s in or around a grotto of caves on an island further south, a place called Sepulveda. We tried to go there but we couldn’t—now I hear that the aire toxico may be in fact be coming from Antarctica.”

  Linx raised a bushy eyebrow. “You suspect what, exactly, Doctor…an illegal nanobotic reservoir?”

  “Possibly, General. Whatever it is, it’s changing the air in that whole area, and every living thing, Yemana Indians, island life, everything, is being affected. Mass casualties are piling up along the beaches. Several villages have already reported floating corpses in the ocean.”

  Linx checked with someone behind him and returned to the screen. “UNIFORCE confirms that atmospheric perturbations were detected in the area you’re talking about, Doctor. Satellite and aerial ‘bot inspection have characterized the phenomena as a ‘toxic cloud’ spreading outward from near the South Pole, altering the composition of the atmosphere, breaking down ozone and other molecules. “So far, it’s said to be a relatively small scale event, but whatever it is, it’s resistant to nanobotic intervention to this point. BioShield has deployed enforcement nano into the area with no effect.”

  “General,” asked Johnny Winger, “are we dealing with a natural outbreak or some kind of rogue ‘bots somebody let loose?”

  “That’s unknown at this time, Lieutenant. Perhaps, Deputy Camois has something to add.”

  The UNIFORCE official was a precise, almost effeminate bureaucrat. “UNIFORCE has been receiving reports for several days now, actually reports, data, even imagery from multiple locations around the world. We’re getting reports of similar atmospheric disturbances, in places like Tibet, the south Pacific, the Antarctic, the Congo basin in central Africa, just as the Major mentioned.”

 

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