A Dubious Device: The Nanobot Terror (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 10)

by Gerald Kubicki

  “Maybe the inventors have no say so about how their invention is being used,” Banyon replied. “Maybe they plan to kill some people and then patent their invention. Or, maybe the control of the nanobots is in the hands of a fanatic,” he added.

  Steve, Bart and Loni all reached the conclusion at the same time. “The Effort,” they all hissed at once.

  “They are the only ones I know of who would be so ruthless,” Steve said.

  “What’s the Effort?” Haleigh quickly asked.

  “They are the modern day equivalent of Hitler’s Nazis,” Banyon responded. “They go by many names but they all believe in white supremacy. They believe they are the descendants of the ancient Aryan race.”

  “But the people who are dying are all white people from the Aryan Brotherhood gang,” Haleigh said. “Why would they kill their own supporters?”

  “Maybe they did it to blame the murders on someone else, like a minority group,” Chase said like a lawyer, “and deflect suspicion away from them. Or maybe they want to purge the leadership so they can gain more control. The Nazi’s did that in 1934 with the ‘night of the long knives.”

  “Or maybe they are announcing that they can get to anyone,” Bart said with grave concern.

  “And at the same time gaining a lot of publicity,” Steve explained. “This could be a propaganda stunt like Joseph Goebbels would pull back in Germany.”

  “Well, all we know so far is that these nanobots are turning out to be a dubious device,” Banyon said. “They could be good or bad.” He knew he should talk to Wolf, but wanted to finish this discussion first.

  ***

  Soon, Banyon saw that Timmy was back on screen. He quickly pressed the mute key and they continued.

  “I’ve got my notes.” He showed them a four inch binder, filled with paper. “I think I can address your question now.”

  Banyon repeated his question. “So, is it possible for nanobots to be at least partially organic?” Marlene had told them the nanobots used to kill the inmates appeared to be organic.

  “Actually, using organic materials may be the fastest road to a successful swarm,” Timmy replied sheepishly.

  “Why do you say that?” Chase inquired.

  “There have been some major breakthroughs recently,” Timmy told all of them. “Scientists may have found an answer to the power supply and locomotion issues by using organic materials”

  “Explain?” Bart ordered.

  “Ladies, cover your ears,” Timmy said instead.

  “Goddamnit, Timmy. Will you just answer the question,” Bart roared.

  “Okay, okay,” Timmy said defensively as he put up his hands up in surrender. “It has to do with sperm.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Steve exclaimed and touched his crotch.

  “No, Steve, I’m not,” Timmy said forcefully. “More precisely, it has to do with the tail of a sperm. The tail of a sperm is called a flagellum, that’s Latin for whip. The tail is what gives them motion, whipping back and forth. While sperm are actually just one cell in size, they have two parts, a head and a tail. All animals contain the eukaryotic version of flagellum, or whip motion. It refers to how they cause locomotion and their chemical composition. The flagellum is almost all energy-giving protein.”

  “I guess I knew sperm could swim,” Banyon interjected. “But I didn’t know they were a possible energy source.

  “Not only can they swim, but they are very strong swimmers. The flagellum is a powerful energy supply.” Timmy replied. “Anyway, some scientists have reported that they were able to separate the tail from the head. When they did, the tail of a sperm kept swimming for some time, while the head died.”

  “But doesn’t that mean they would require some sort of liquid to swim in for locomotion?” Bart asked. “Sperm live in liquid.”

  “No necessarily,” Timmy replied with a shake of his head. “The flagellum is an organic power supply. If you could attach it to mechanical nanobots with legs, the creation would have immense power relative to its size, and would be able to walk and perform anything that could be programed into their on-board computer chip.”

  “So, the nanobot then would be part machine and part organic matter, is that correct?” Loni asked.

  “Yes,” Timmy gave as a quick answer.

  “Would they be considered cyborgs?” Steve asked curiously.

  “Man, you are officially a science fiction fan, Steve,” Timmy quickly said with a smile. “But cyborgs are usually part human and part machine. I guess the nanobots could be classified as cyborgs especially if they contained human sperm.”

  “But it’s still science fiction,” Banyon added.

  “Wow,” Loni exclaimed. “I was just thinking. It would require a lot of human sperm to build a swarm, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes, it would,” replied Timmy. But there are other animals with higher sperm counts than humans. Larger animals have a higher sperm count, in general,” Timmy said with a red face. “In theory, any animal sperm would work.”

  “But still, building a swarm would require a lot of material,” Loni reasoned. “Where can they be getting the sperm?”

  “Oh, that problem was solved about fifty years ago,” Timmy said hurriedly. “Sperm banks are fairly common today in many parts of the world. The banks can freeze sperm at extremely low temperatures, somewhere around -200F. Some doctors have revived sperm that was forty years old.”

  “Do you think a sperm bank could also freeze completed nanobots?” Banyon asked with alarm.

  “No question about it,” Timmy said shaking his head.

  “Let me put you on hold again,” Banyon said and hit the mute button.

  “My God, “Loni cried out. “Whoever is doing this could have been stockpiling raw materials or finished product for forty years.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  M

  eanwhile, back at the horse ranch, a seemingly confused Brenda asked. “So, is one of our goals to disarm the American people?”

  “Actually, it could never happen,” Bernard confessed shaking his head. “There are too many guns in America and too many people who would never give them up. Only the weak will disarm. We plan to use that to our advantage in phase three.”

  “Then what is the goal?” she said and flapped her arms in frustration. “You told me you are demanding that the President disarm the people. Wouldn’t that be taking their guns away?”

  “Ah, but don’t you see, the demand will have the opposite effect on the populace, my dear,” Bernard said with a leer. “Everyone will arm themselves once the President makes the announcement.”

  “Oh, I get it, you’re using reverse psychology. You want everybody to have guns to use against the government when the time comes,” she said with admiration.

  “You are absolutely correct Brenda,” Bernard noted. “But I also have another good reason for arming America. When the nano…” He didn’t get to finish because Brenda interrupted him.

  “But, what’s the ultimate goal Bernard? I want to hear that,” Brenda demanded.

  “The ultimate goal is to take over America, you know that. We will need some supporters with guns to take action,” Bernard said with force and slammed the table. “However, for this revolution to work we must do it in stages. If we do it right, we will take over this country,” he exclaimed with force as he clinched his fist in the air.

  “Those are the words I wanted to hear,” she bubbled with excitement. She wanted to be the first female leader of America, even if it was by force.

  “But we are not ready to take over America,” he informed her and shook his head. “We need many more recruits. The population needs to be in an uproar and scared. The government also needs to be in chaos. It will take several phases.”

  “But, will that happen soon?” Brenda said with impatience. She wanted to take over America before she got too old and lost her looks.

  “My people tell me we also need many more nanobots. It will take time, I’m afraid,
” Bernard explained.

  “I give up. You are so frustrating,” Brenda said to no one and flapped her arms. “Give me a timeframe. When do we start killing people in earnest? That’s what I want to know.” Her words came out between gritted teeth.

  “That will start soon, in phase three,” Bernard answered.

  “What the hell is phase three then?” Brenda demanded. She was about to come out of her chair and shake Bernard until she got a straight answer.

  “Phase three is when the killings will start on a mass scale,” Bernard acknowledged. “They will start one day from today.” Bernard had purposely kept Brenda from knowing the timing of his plan. She was so self-centered and selfish that he could not trust her with the valuable information. He was sure she would flaunt it in someone’s face.

  “Who will we kill first?”

  “We are going to use the nanobots to kill all the Mexican and Hispanic people in the Chicago metro area.”

  “So, you do finally have a usable delivery system,” she replied admirably and clapped her hands. “Tell me, what is it?”

  “We will only be able to use this delivery system once, but we are working on others for later phases,” he remarked.

  “What’s the delivery system?” The exasperated woman pleaded.

  “We are sending every Hispanic family in Chicago a free twenty-five dollar prepaid credit card under a fake credit card company name. The letters will be delivered to the post office later today, just before the President gets his email from me.”

  “But won’t that cost a huge amount of money?” Bernard was footing the bill for this project and Brenda didn’t want it to affect her inheritance.

  “The only cost for us is for the production of the cards and postage of the letters. There will not be any money on the cards of course.”

  “Then, explain how the delivery system will work?”

  “Human nature will help us there,” Bernard grinned evilly. “When the Hispanic person opens the letter, the first thing they will likely do is grab and look at the credit card, don’t you agree?”

  “And that will activate the nanobots which you have cleverly placed on the card, right?” Brenda asked.

  “Correct,” he exclaimed. “As soon as one of the members of the family touches the card, the nanobot will identify the DNA makeup of the person. The machines are programmed to attack people with Hispanic genes. Some of the nanobots will then take off in search of anyone with the same DNA or similar DNA. The whole family will become infected in minutes. It will look like some sort of plague killed them.”

  “How long will it take before the infected people die?” Brenda spat out like a deranged killer, which of course, she was.

  “It will take about two hours for the poison to work. In the meantime, if the Hispanic person comes into contact with another Hispanic, the nanobots are programed to jump to the new host and use their reserved supply of toxin. After two hours in the exposed air, the nanobots will die and decompose quickly, leaving no trace. No one will know what happened. The poison will dissipate into the air. There will be no trace of how they died and it will look like a plague to the authorities.”

  “But that will not kill all the Hispanics will it?” Brenda questioned. “Many have no mailing address. We can’t possibly get a credit card to all of them.”

  “That’s not going to be a problem,” Bernard replied with a wave of his hand. “Once Hispanics start dying ‘en masse’, every American in Chicago will surely be armed with guns. They will think the Hispanics are diseased, stricken with a plague, like zombies. They will be terrified that they could become infected themselves. As soon as any of the remaining Hispanics shows their heads, someone will blow it off. It has been done many times in the movies. This time it will be done in real life.”

  “That’s interesting,” Brenda said as she scratched her chin. “But what if someone finds out about the nanobots?”

  “Inevitably they will, but that’s not going to happen for a while. By then millions of our targeted victims will be dead, no one will believe in the government, and we will have created the necessary environment to make our revolution work.”

  “Are you sure about that? What if someone figures out how to stop our nanobots?”

  “Brenda, we are ten years ahead of any current technology concerning nanobots. No one will know what is going on or be able to stop them.”

  “Good thing I ran into Carl at the race track. He needed money to feed his gambling habit and we needed his expertise with nanobots,” Brenda gushed.

  “I told you that the skills I taught you about spying would come in handy someday,” he replied happily.

  A servant suddenly appeared with a phone. “It’s Mister Catfish. He says we have a problem.”

  “What’s the problem?” Bernard growled into the phone. Brenda could not hear what Carl was saying, but from the look on Bernard’s face, it wasn’t good.

  “I’ll be right there,” Bernard said. He then turned to Brenda. “We’ve got a problem in the lab. Care to push me there to the barn?”

  “Oh, goodie, I’ve never been there,” she replied.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  T

  en minutes later the gleaming steel door to the elevator opened and Brenda pushed Bernard into a brightly-lit, immaculately-clean, laboratory. It ran the length of the one hundred foot horse barn above it. Machines were humming and computers were flashing lights while scrolling information. Trickles of steam escaped from beakers on the black marble countertops. The lab was running at full speed, but no one was in sight.

  “Carl, where are you?” Brenda yelled out into the open area.

  “We’re in the back room. But you can’t come in here. Go to the window,” she heard in the distance. It sounded like Carl was far away. She pushed Bernard to the back of the room where a picture window covered half the wall. She realized the other side of the wall was a sterile room. She could see Carl and six other men all dressed in white protection suits with helmets working on what appeared to be some sort of an assembly line, only it wasn’t for the nanobots. The assembly line appeared to be being used for another mundane task. They were packing letters.

  Brenda watched the assembly line work. A conveyor belt carried credit cards which were precisely put on the belt by a card feeder. One worker pulled stacks of cards out of boxes and placed them in the feeder to keep it running. As the cards came past where Carl stood, a tiny faucet placed a drop of a solution on the front of each card. She knew the solution contained the nanobots.

  The cards continued and were immediately subjected to extreme cold in a small glass enclosure. It froze the solution so it would not degenerate. They next went into a scanning machine that read the name on the card. From there the card entered a more elaborate machine that glued the card onto a piece of paper. The next machine folded the paper and inserted it into an envelope and sealed it. The final machine addressed the envelope using the information that had been scanned earlier. The machine then placed postage on each envelope. The whole process took less than ten seconds and the finished letters were spewing out at a rate of one per second. Three men were grabbing the letters and lining them up in mail buckets. They carried the buckets to a pallet for shipment. It all seemed very efficient to her.

  Carl suddenly turned from the drip machine and walked over to the window. His voice came through a loudspeaker just above the window in the lab. “We can’t make the deadline,” he announced.

  “Why the hell not,” Bernard screamed.

  “We had a breakdown on the folding machine. It cost us three hours,” the scientist replied. “We were also short of nanobots. The replicators were slower than anticipated. I needed to build some last night.”

  “How many letters do you have that are ready to go?” Bernard demanded.

  “We have been at this for two weeks solid,” Carl replied. Brenda could hear the sounds of all the machines in the background. “We have about 1.2 million letters done already. We ca
n’t hold the letters any longer or these nanobots will start dying. The sub-zero freezer is full. The current batch can only live for three more days without freezing them.”

  “How many more letters do you need to produce before you finish the project?” Bernard asked.

  “We’ll need another three hours,” Carl replied. “That’s about a hundred thousand more letters.”

  The old man thought for a second, then looked at his watch. “Very well, we can’t finish on schedule. But get all the finished letters to the post offices before they close. The rest you can deliver when they are completed, but get them to the post office as soon as you are done even if it is after hours. We’ll just dump them into the mail collection box. It might delay the delivery by one day, but we do have a margin of error built into our plan.”

  “Okay, I’ll send four guys to make the deliveries right now,” Carl replied.

  “Good,” Bernard replied with satisfaction thinking he had handled the problem. Brenda patted him on the shoulder.

  “But I’m going to the race track right now.” Carl announced in a demanding but pleading voice.

  Brenda stiffened. “Oh, is that right?” Bernard didn’t want Carl to go. He wanted him to finish the job, but also knew that Carl needed to feed his addiction or Bernard could have a hard time keeping him in line.

  “I can’t change the schedule, you know,” Bernard growled at Carl. “You must be finished and ready by six o’clock tonight. You can go to a racetrack later.”

  “This is science,” Carl retorted with force. “You can’t rush it. We need to build more nanobots. I need until tomorrow morning to finish producing them to have a proper amount for the credit cards.” Carl wanted to get to the racetrack. He didn’t care about Bernard’s schedule right now. He had a hunger that he had to feed.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Barnard said in his calculating voice. “If you keep working, I’ll give you a ten thousand dollar bonus tomorrow morning. You can go to the track then and make all the bets that you want.” Bernard knew how to handle Carl’s cravings. Brenda was once again pleased.