Nellie and the Nanites - Bk2 - Ch.11

Chapter 11

Wreckage.

Nellie watched Duke’s workers unloading her hold. This had been her largest haul yet. The piece of wreckage she had found in the forests bordering the town had not yet been located by any of the Fed forces, so she was free to harvest the whole thing.

Without the restrictions she placed on herself around other people, Nellie got the whole thing in record time. Every piece of metal was loaded into the bay and, away from any prying satellite's eyes, was processed into bars by a swarm of her nanites. That was a massive saving on space, if nothing else.

Delivering fully processed bars of metal, crates of electronics, and more would generally be a massive red flag, but Duke had a no-questions-asked policy. Not to mention the fact he was building his own colony ship below ground, so even if he was suspicious of anything, there was not much he could do about it.

Mutually assured destruction was such a reassuring thing to have in an ally.

It wasn’t that she distrusted the man, per se. It was more that she would be an idiot to unquestioningly trust a man who managed to hide a massive ship-building project and be off the Fed’s radar all at the same time.

Sipping her HyperDrive thoughtfully, Nellie noted how many of the workers were NOT involved in unloading for her anymore. Only the same faces these days, at least when she made deliveries. Picking up stuff was the same as always. It made her wonder how many of Duke’s workers didn’t know about the ship and his plans. Was he going to abandon them here?

Undoubtedly, he planned to take some of his people, but what about the others? Not that she knew them personally or anything, but still. It was a good indication of how he treated people.

“Always look at how someone treats those they have power over.” She muttered to herself, “It is where they show their real selves.”

It was an old adage, as old as the saying, that one should judge a society by how they treat their prisoners. It all boiled down to the same thing. People in power showed their most authentic selves to those they felt had no choice but to obey.

A smile and a knife in the dark hurt just as badly as a knife with a scowl behind it.

Sometimes worse.

“All done, Bea!” Leo called companionably as he wiped his neck with an oily rag. “Want the stuff loaded here or over at the regular bay?”

“What’s easiest for you guys?” She asked.

“See, Bea, that’s why we love ya!” He winked, “Supplies are at Bay Five!”

She gave him a wave and headed over. It was the work of minutes to load up with everything she needed for both deliveries she had on the books for today.

One for the town near her yard and then another for the mysterious synthetics.

She just had to stop by and pick up Salem on her way to town.

Dark and Vey were walking the walls as she came into land. Seeing their large forms on her new, high walls was reassuring. No one was creeping up on them now, not with the scouts and the Gammas keeping watch.

Not that Nellie had any doubts about Lucy’s ability to defend the place. She just wanted to avoid having nanites directly involved in combat.

It was just too risky.

“Five minutes ahead of time,” Salem beamed at Nellie. “Thank you!”

“I did say I’d try,” Nellie said with a smile. “Everything ready to go?”

“Of course,” Salem looked slightly insulted. “I was ready twenty minutes ago.”

“We’ll load the town’s Scout Drones and head out then,” Nellie sighed and shook out her shoulders. “I must be getting jaded with everything. Who knew I’d ever get tired of flying a shuttle around?”

“I shall endeavor to solve that problem today.” Salem nodded curtly. “This delivery should furnish us with at least one pilot.”

“That’s the Legate Model, right?” Nellie checked.

“Correct. Shall we?”

Nellie lifted off with Salem sitting primly in the co-pilot spot. The Echo was certainly a help. More than that, she was, well, fun. The little tics and twitches of frustration were always good for a laugh, and Lucy had suggested just the thing.

“So, did you find out what Paren’s building in that shed of hers?” Nellie asked casually.

Salem flinched like she had been slapped.

“I am still undertaking the investigation,” Salem said, one eye twitching slightly.

“No luck, eh?” Nellie tried not to laugh. “We didn’t get anywhere either.”

“It is frustrating,” Salem said, her shoulders pulled in as her mouth pinched into a small, flat line. “Paren does not respond in a reasonable manner.”

“How so?” Nellie asked.

“She just says no,” Salem sighed. “Over and over and over again until I run into programming limits.”

“Like what?”

“Like not strangling sentient races,” Salem sighed wistfully. “Not to kill, but just a little to reinforce the questions.”

“You may have to try non-standard techniques,” Nellie said with a chuckle. A teen girl making someone want to strangle them was hardly a worrying sign, but still.

“I nailed the door to her shed closed,” Salem said happily. “There is a note saying she can go in once she gives me the requested information.”

“Good luck with that,” Nellie grinned. Paren was nanite-powered; she could open that shed door if it was glued, nailed, and sealed in concrete.

===<<<>>>===

“Sound off!” Crush-Cha yelled as he stormed into the temporary barracks. All around him, figures erupted out of beds, tumbling to the floor, swearing and cursing. One only made it halfway before the blankets tangled around them and sent them crashing to the floor.

He did his best not to smile. Fond memories of being on the other side of things.

“One!” The young female brackta stood proudly at the end of her bed, a crisp salute as he passed.

“Three!” A man well past middle age with a scarred ring around one arm only just made it in time.

“Two!” The kid was the youngest here, but they were working hard to keep up. Crush-Cha thought they would go far.

“Four!” Only just managed to get the salute off in time. The last three times, they had failed to be ready by the time he passed by and had cleaned the latrines as punishment.

“And here we have…” Crush-Cha shook his head at the lump under the covers, still snoring peacefully. Five was not someone he would ever have chosen for a special forces company, even with a full training squadron to back him up. The massive man spilled over every side of the bunk, every inch of it muscle. Unfortunately, that was all the good that could be said of the man. As energetic as a rock and about as bright. Sweet, kind, and completely useless. He’d kick the big lump out if he had any choice, but beggars can’t be choosers, so he had to make do.

“GOOD MORNING FIVE!” Crush-Cha yelled in the man’s ear. “GET YOUR DUMB ASS UP NOW!” He stood back as the panicked giant attempted to go from asleep to vertical without any intervening movement.

All it accomplished was to have Five sat on the floor on the remains of his bunk as he blinked owlishly up at Crush.

“Latrines?” He asked with a yawn.

“Please, ancestors, no!” Three groaned. The last time the man tried to clean the things, they had to rebuild them after he knocked out a wall.

“Double shift,” Crush-Cha glowered down at the big man. “No sleep for you tonight.”

“Yes, Boss,” Five said with a gentle smile. He took his place in line, and Crush had them file out to begin training for the day.

They were not half bad; Crush thought proudly as they made their way around the assault course. He had only had them for a couple of weeks, and the difference was remarkable.

Brix had taken some convincing, which was to be expected. For all the man was commanding this group of rebels, he was not a military man at heart. A squad of trained soldiers? That he could understand. Even special training.

But a group to kill and die as needed was a step too far for the essentially kind Brix.

It had taken days to get the man to agree. In the end, it was limited to volunteers only. He could still remember the group of a dozen that had come to hear his speech, and only five had stayed when he was done.

The panting group returned to him, ready for the next step.

“What are your names?” Crush-Cha asked coldly, as he did every morning.

“We have no names; names are for the living; we who are dead have only numbers!” They called back in near-perfect unison.

“Where are your families?” He asked next.

“We have no families. Our unit is our family, now and always!” The chorused.

“What is your job?” He finished his little list.

“Our job is to kill; our job is to die; our job is to survive. Our job is to do what is needed, no matter what!”

“Well done,” Crush said warmly. “Do any of you wish to retake your names and return to the land of the living?” He asked every morning. Brix was right about that. No one should be forced into this. They had to know they had a choice.

“No, Boss!” The said smartly and with conviction.

“Then go get some food, you layabouts!” Crush grinned mercilessly down at them. “We have a busy day ahead.”

As the group trotted toward the mess, Crush-Cha looked at the assault course again. They really needed a higher wall. Five could simply reach up and grab the top of that one.

With a shrug, he strode toward the training ground to get a few extra surprises ready for them. Every day had a new set of traps, challenges, and even a few rewards.

It kept them focused on the training and not on the fact they would be operational in a week.

“I will get you through,” Crush promised them as he walked. “Come what may.”

===<<<>>>===

“You were told that you should deal with me now,” Sal sighed when the mayor tried to approach Nellie again. “Is this not suitable?”

“I just want to ask-” Molly tried again.

“Ask me,” Salem snapped. “Or would you like to amend our agreement?”

“No, no.” The Mayor gave up, “We have a deal.”

“Very well, thumbprint the contract here, please.” Salem held out her tablet.

“There is an official contract?” Molly seemed pleasantly surprised.

“Naturally,” Salem looked offended. “What were you expecting?”

“Ah, uh, handshake deal,” Molly shot a look at Nellie, “Like when she brought the yard from-”

“You did not witness the deal,” Salem snapped. “All relevant contracts were signed. We do not do handshake deals.” The synthetic gave a very realistic sniff of irritation and scowled at Molly.

“Well, I just assumed,” She spluttered.

“Assumptions are bad business,” Salem stabbed at her pad as she spoke. “In the future, I recommend avoiding such things.” She flickered her eyes at the Mayor, “It makes a poor impression on potential business partners.”

Molly blushed and looked outraged at the same time.

“We are hardly partners!” The Mayor rallied.

“True,” Salem acknowledged. “Partners pay for their goods.”

Nellie said they had to go before Molly could say something she would inevitably regret, which was not her fault as she was arguing with a synthetic literally programmed to win in these situations.

“Sorry, Molly,” Nellie gave the Mayor a sympathetic look, “We have another delivery to make.”

They took off a minute later; the former bartender was still glaring up at them.

“She doesn’t understand her situation,” Salem was still complaining as they approached the delivery point for the synthetic base. “A little gratitude would go a long way.”

“I’m not sure Molly does gratitude,” Nellie said as they touched down.

“Why?” Salem asked, “It makes no sense to me. She seems antagonistic for no reason.”

“Some people are like that,” Nellie said. “I’m guessing here, but I know that some people are so independent they resent those they need help from.”

“Why?” Salem asked again.

“You can’t trust those you don’t have something over,” Nellie said, reminded uncomfortably of her thoughts about Duke. “It was something we learned as orphans.”

“Was she an orphan?” Salem cocked her head to one side.

“No idea, but we are hardly the only ones who think that way,” Nellie said bitterly. “It’s a hard lesson to learn, but anything that seems too good to be true normally is.”

“And her being independent comes into this where?” Salem asked as Nellie tried to raise the compound on the radio.

“Oh, right,” Nellie paused for a moment, “They are proud of doing things on their own. They see themselves as taking nothing from anyone. Challenge that view of themselves, and they will see you as an enemy, even if they need you to survive.”

“Curious, but I will add it to my behavioral analysis sub-routines.” Salem nodded.

She watched Nellie try to contact the compound again for a while before speaking again. “Does our deal with Duke fall under a similar heading?”

Nellie winced. Had she just passed on her trauma and distrust to a synthetic being?

“I don’t know,” She admitted eventually. “It might, but we both have information that could damage each other. Plus, we need each other, so probably not.”

“He seems to need us much more than we need him,” Salem noted thoughtfully. “What more can he offer us than we already have from him?”

Nellie paused as she considered it. Salem was right. Duke needed her for essential supplies for his ship, but she didn’t need him for much other than supplies, which she had already been getting before.

How did this change things?

“Would Mister Duke be considered the independent type?” Salem leaned forward as she thought.

“Definitely,” Nellie confirmed. “Textbook independent operator.” Shit, she was so used to being on the other side of the equation that she hadn’t realized.

“So he may begin to see us in an antagonistic fashion if we continue as we have been?” Salem blinked a few times. “May have already started to do so?”

“Ost-” Nellie cut herself off quickly, “Fuck! Yes, he will, or does.”

“I will come up with some apparent needs for us to show to reassure him,” Salem said, quickly making notes on her tablet. “I will have something for you by morning.”

“Thanks,” Nellie said, wiping her hair out of her face as she tried again to raise the facility. “We aren’t getting anywhere here, and I suddenly don’t want to be away from the yard right now.”

“We still need the Legate model,” Lucy added in her ear.

“Let’s do a flyby to get their attention,” Nellie flicked on the engines and pulled up sharply.

“Well, that explains their lack of communication,” Nellie stared down into the large pit that the synthetic base used to occupy. “Any sign of movement down there, Lucy?”

“Nothing I can detect,” Lucy spoke over the radio this time. “There are several heat blooms, but only from fires and cooling metal.”

“Who the hell did this?” Nellie gaped at the destroyed compound as she slowly circled the smoke-filled wreckage. “More to the point, why?”

“Synthetics may not display heat blooms if they are hiding,” Salem added quietly.

“Fuck,” Nellie swore. “Lucy, get everyone ready as soon as we get back in range. We need to search this place… just in case.”

“Really?” Salem looked survived. “If there are only synthetics down there….”

“They are still people,” Nellie growled.

“But they are not flesh and blood,” Salem added.

“Neither is Lucy,” Nellie said coldly, “And she is my everything. We are going in after anyone that is left.”

“I will ensure everyone is ready,” Lucy said quietly as they headed back toward the yard. “I take it you do mean everyone?”

“Everyone,” Nellie said. “And break out the armor as well. I want us protected.”

“You understand that will leave the yard open to attack. If Duke is watching and antagonistic, he may choose to act.”

“It’s just a yard,” Nellie sighed. “We can get somewhere else. What about your projects?”

“I can recover them remotely if need be.” She said happily. “Thank you for remembering them.”

Nellie nodded and concentrated on getting back as fast as possible.

The moment the shuttle touched down, Paren and the Gammas were onboard, arms loaded with equipment. Lucy’s large robotic body was the last up the ramp.

Nellie and Salem got into their gear as Lucy flew them back toward the destroyed outpost, keeping low to avoid any prying eyes.

They call that type of flying ‘map of the earth,’ but that did not normally apply. Having an advanced AI at the controls changed that into a literal thing.

The shuttle's base was only a few inches off the ground as they moved at full speed.

Paren initially gave a couple of terrified yelps but got used to it.

“Snap the pieces into place to activate,” Lucy said as Nellie struggled. “Everything is Nellie proof.”

“Hey!” Nellie chuckled. “Rude much?”

“Oh, I can be very rude,” Lucy purred in her ear, making her blush.

“Almost there,” Salem said as she and the gammas formed up in front of the doors. They had matching sets of black power armor, and they really looked the part. Dar and Vey looked huge and intimidating as they shoved each other occasionally, while Salem looked like a lithe shadow, even if the look of a strict school teacher never left her face. They only had basic weapons scavenged from those looters, and Nellie really wanted some upgrades.

Nellie unslung her own rifle and took a position in front.

“Better get behind us, boss-lady,” Dar rumbled. “Could be dangerous.”

Paren started to laugh as she stood behind Lucy’s massive metal form.

“What?” Vey asked, confused.

“She’ll be fine,” Lucy said as she unfolded her giant arms. “Look to your jobs.”

“Nobody tells us nuffin,” Dar grumbled as the bay door opened the moment they touched down.

“Slow and careful,” Nellie said as she strode forward. “Everyone, be careful and stay in sight.”