Steel Gardens of Anid-Sta Chapter 8. Fools Rush In

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Chapter 8. Fools Rush In

Fae noticed his hair was a definite shade of crimson.

“I think we might have to check you for chromosome damage.” She looked at him as he read the display. “The picture of you that shows that you have dark hair.”

“Nope, the color is as it is now. I have red hair. I hate the color, so I had it dyed black. I like a blue-black hair.”

“Why is it shaved off?”

“When I went under, they said to cut it. So I did, then I found they only meant shorter, not shaved.”

“Oh.” Fae laughed. “I can see that happening.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t like the color anymore. Maybe I will let it grow out in the normal color.”

“Could be nice looking.”

“Naw, I look like the Garnet Star with legs.”

Fae laughed out loud. The comments he made in his self-deprecation she saw in his moments where he tinkered at the display, running diagnostics.

“This is frustrating, there is no reason for some of the circuits to overheat. There is a voltage drop somewhere, the cooling system goes into low power mode. I can adjust it manually, but it resets to lower capacity in a few moments.” Archer the Tech pulled at his ear. “I need a bow, some arrows and a place with clearance of fifty of my paces long and half that wide.”

He looked at their escort, a male mini-bot of the name Beekan Luc.

“Can I make a bow out of any of the trees out there?”

The small bot had little to say to the large humans. Often just stood and watched with sapphire blue eyes, saying nothing. His position as the Captain of the Guard made him disdain his assignment. But no one was available to watch over the human pair.

“No. It’s forbidden to destroy the plant and animal life here. You can print anything you need – including any of your food.”

“I would like a corn-dog. But, I’m interested in a simple bow. A longbow or recurve bow with arrows.”

“What is a corndog? I know all the species of felis catus, canis lupus familiaris. But there is no corndog specie I have in my database.”

Both humans laughed.

“It’s a type of food.”

“That seems destructive to a life form.”

“It is.” Archer said. “It is very unhealthy to eat it. But some people have weaknesses for smoke or drink. I have desires for that kind of food.”

“With mustard!” Fae added.

“Oh yeah. Mustard, the brown kind.”

“No, it has to be yellow mustard.”

“I still don’t understand.” The bot looked back and forth.

“It is a hot dog on a stick, dipped in batter and deep-fried.”

“Seems cruel.”

“No, do you know what a hot-dog is?”

“One that stays in the light of day too long in summer.”

The humans laughed again.

“A cylinder of meat, ground and seasoned about the size of, well, your size from foot to head. And a stick poked in one end, dipped in a batter and dipped in a hot vegetable oil until it is hot in the center and crunchy on the outside.”

“Revolting.” Was the comment the Captain of the Guard made. “It sounds like a huge amount of lipids and excessive proteins that would denature into an unhealthy meal.”

“Leave it to a robot to take the fun out of a corn dog.” Archer grumbled.

After submitting a request for a bow, they picked it up with arrows on his specifications.

“Archer, I need to go back to the medical lab while you do your thing with the bow and arrows.”

Fae laughed as she walked away to work while this nerd kind of person suddenly takes on a hobby that seemed steeped in testosterone.

Less than an hour later, an alert sounded in the medical department and a macrobot rolled a gurney with bloodied visage of the computer hardware tech laying on it.

“Alert the neurosurgeon. They say he was on the ground for a few minutes before anyone found him.”

“Oh my.” Fae said, stepping clear while she followed the tones for alerts of cooling of the air circulation.

Later, she stopped in to see Archer, the goose-egg on his forehead was the size of her fist.

“What happened?”

“Mmm…” Reluctant to tell her. “The bow hit me in the face.”

“What?” She shook her head trying to imagine the event. “How?”

“It slipped out of my hand when I was drawing it back to shoot. Then, well, I guess I let go with the wrong hand, and, well, it slapped me in the face.”

Fae started to laugh.

“Well, it’s a hundred-pound bow.”

“Is that a lot?”

“Yes, a lot.” He rubbed his forehead and winced. “I guess I am not in as good of shape as I thought. We still have lost some strength, I suppose.”

Fae shook her head, the thought of him being knocked out by his own bow was one she would have to keep in her logs.

Archer remained in the medical bay for another hour before the med-team imaged his head and found nothing.

This made her laugh even harder.

Handsome, pretty eyes, Irish and proud.

And a person that would need to be taken care of, or he would be in the hospital daily.

Or perhaps he would be a frequent flyer and she would see him often.

A walking disaster, she worried with an inward chuckle.

*Beaten half to death by his own bow and arrow.* She shook her head.*I hope he survives long enough to repair the systems tha are overheating.*

Still, the quirky named hardware tech was a good addition to the engineering team before all the other humans reanimated and walked around.

She would have to speak to Amsi about having Mr. Bowman in the close-knit team to take on the problems that cropped up in ancient circuits that had not seen power for three-hundred centuries, even if the nanobots did repairs over the years.

She smiled at the thought. *He is kind of dork, but he’s smart and funny. He can also help me find…*

She paused for a moment. *Oh god! I can’t remember my own boyfriend’s name!*

A pause.

Laughing, Fae MacLir worked her way back to the medical center to assign the new reanimated humans to new departments.

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Steel Gardens of Anid-Sta Chapter 7. Heartbreak and Happiness. Plus one Idiot

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Chapter 7. Heartbreak and Happiness. Plus One Idiot.

Fae flipped the holographic files ever faster, in a concerted search for her father when she nearly flipped past his name.

“Thea. My dad was hurt in a fire, he helped put it out and saved over eight-hundred lives that were in hibernation.” Fae laughed, her memories of the patriarch of her family as a selfless and focused man. “He suffered burns on his back and arms. The doctors dressed the burns and rushed him to the pods. It says here that he has signs of burns to the inside of his mouth and throat, so he is in a special numbering profile and will wake up only when the medical staff activates it.”

Thea shook her head.

“Burns to the lungs are serious, but we have the repairs for that. Nanos can fix cell walls and the micros can repair the larger damaged structures”

The mini-bot walked through the holographic display. Looking at the other files that Fae set aside.

“Fae, this one you called boyfriend is older, by far, than you are. This one, Thomas Metive, is in his forties.” She looked at Fay.

“No, I saw him.”

“You saw someone who looked like him. We need to keep searching.”

A flashing light on Rudy the Dragonfly-bot got Thea’s attention.

“We have another problem, the power supply in here is overheating. Core System just sent a message that the display needs a full power-down.”

“What? Why?”

“There is an electrical fault, the circuit board is ten-degrees higher than normal. These circuits have not been active for a long time. We will need to have service bots in here to find and fix the fault.”

“How do we do that? I am a systems engineer’s assistant, I understand electrical but this is more of an IT problem, this is a different kind of electronic world.”

“Well, I said it would take nanos and micros for medical, we can do that to the circuits.”

“How long could that take?”

“Not long, a few months.”

Fae sagged. Months!

“Could we speed that up somehow before we have other things overheat?”

“We would have to wake someone up that would know the systems.”

“That would be in the second-tier reanimation.” The mini-bot said. “Those would be the specialists for design and maintenance of the systems.”

“Second-tier?”

“After the engineering and medical teams, computer specialists come next. The systems the specialists maintain keep the three legs of reanimation in balance. That is why the schedule for government leaders to reanimate last in the first cycle.”

“Who is first of the computer nerd-pops to put in the toaster?”

“I am making a request to the Core System for an override and giving your argument.” Thea paused for a moment over the top of Rudy the Dragonfly-bot, looking at a tiny display.

“You have fifteen-degrees or five-minutes, which ever one is shorter.”

“Okay. Let’s quick do a search, who is the most accessible one.”

“That will be easy.” Thea said tapping her own, nearly microscopic display. “Check second-tier reanimation schedule. Section 2. Zone HU-N3Y Pod number SL-1027DM.”

“No name, but he’s listed as a service tech with years of seniority.”

“Set up that pod for reanimation. Let’s go see if he can help us last longer than fifteen minutes at a time.”

It was the longest two days Fae had ever lived. Pacing, she had confirmed the pod she found was not the one Peter the Boyfriend was in.

In the med-bay recovery, she looked at the doctors that fussed over the reanimation of this tech that they felt was out-of-order. Medical personnel needed to be first out to care for any malfunctions that may have happened.

And many malfunctions had occurred.

Fae flinched as she read the preliminary reports that came to her and Amsi, they began to work longer hours to check and recheck pods.

One surgeon in stasis lost the vitrification preservative and the argument whether to try to reanimate the body went long into the night.

Percentage numbers of the thousands of preserved humans began to climb.

Predicted failure rate of pods did not match the measured failures. Nearly a third had lost the non-crystalized fluids, leaving desiccated bodies with only liquid helium around and inside every cell and blood vessel.

One domesticated farm animal the humans preserved suffered the same fate. When the medical staff attempted to reanimate the sheep, it crumbled into dust before body fluids could be replaced.

All arguments stopped on efforts to awaken the failed pods, helium maintained with those victims until a process to prevent the bodies from collapsing when the helium boiled away.

In bed 211-S, the computer-tech made angry growling noises with a touch of Gaelic accent.

“Coffee! Just get me some and do not lecture me about waking up from hibernation and nutrition.”

Then…

“What do you mean you don’t think there is any? It is in the tenth-guarantee of the planet’s federal declaration! Coffee must be present at all times!”

Minutes pass and voice of the tech remained frustrated.

Fae looked at the tech as he stood, broad-shouldered, pale with a galaxy of freckles over his chest.

Looking down, he swore.

“What is this? I don’t have freckles.” Looking at his image on a display. “This is what I am going to look like?”

Doctor Ofir Bhabel shook her head.

“No, not after you produce your own red-blood cells. Your color will return and your freckles will fade.”

“Well, alright then. I am not reverting to my childhood and have my big brother hold me down to play dot-to-dot on me again.”

“Excuse me?” Doctor Ofir asked.

“Old childhood issues. Until we find out what you are, I am not telling you anything more.”

“I explained to you already. I am your doctor and a bot.”

“Yeah, yeah. You are a visual hallucination. Until I see you in full size, I am not talking to anyone. I am probably only making noises to the outside world.”

Doctor Ofir flitted in front of the techs face.

“You are human, I am bot, I am also your doctor and I have overseen three-hundred animations. The other humans are busy assisting in the warming process.”

“Doctor?” Fae asked. “May I help?”

“Miss Fae. Please.” The Doctor motioned her in.

“I scheduled him for early reanimation. He is needed to help with failed circuitry.”

“That explains a lot, his personality is not compatible with sentient artificial intelligence.”

“Who is not compatible?” The green-eyes sparkled with offense. “I can get along with anyone. This is just not right, my perceptions are off is all.”

*This is funny* She laughed inwardly. *He’s convinced he’s in a hallucination*

“Sir,” Fae smiled. “I assure you that this is all real.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Fae MacLir, Assistant to the Chief Engineer of operations. I was the first one to wake up. Doctor Ofir is a good friend and she is only as tall as your hand from middle finger to the heel of your hand.”

“No kidding.”

“This calls for some coffee.”

“We told you, there is no such thing right at the moment, they are all in hibernation, the rest grow wild in places around the world.”

“This world sucks, I may want to go back in to the pod.”

Fae laughed again.

“You spend a lot of time laughing at a man just woke up without coffee or Uisce Beatha in my hand.”

“What’s that?”

“Whiskey.”

“Okay, what is your name?”

“You don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?” Fae asked.

“We have only your pod number, so if you wish to be known as Ten-twentyseven,” Doctor Ofir  walked up to him with an injector of an amber fluid. “You will tell us what you like for a name.”

“What’s that?”

“This will help buffer your system. Your pH is too low.”

“What is it?”

“They are nanobots.”

“Um. If I don’t take them, would I be in danger?”

The doctor made a sound that reminded Fae of a sigh.

“It will take you longer to recover fully.”

“Fair enough. I have a horrid headache from no coffee, anything to get rid of that will be appreciated.”

“I have an analgesic for that.”

“Does it come in a glass?”

“No, but I can give it to you as a pill. No injection.”

“Sold.” He nodded. “Is it possible to get some exercise, walk around. I have a hobby of archery.”

“Ar..What?”

“And my name is Archer Fletch Bowman.” He looked at the women. “Do not blame me, it’s the idiot that gave birth to me and typed in the blanks”

Doctor Ofir shook her head, not getting the humor, but Fae laughed.

The Archer Fletch Bowman, with a hobby of archery blamed the idiot at the keyboard for his name.

I drink alone

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A caress of senses

The dark grounds float in water.

Thoughts turn, in the quiet slanting sunlight.

Sitting alone outside on a bench.

The raven comes to look, turning its head with an obsidian eye.

Almost laugh, the demands of a bit of toast.

The feathered terrorist walks.

Wings out and threatens.

Cup down, bow up.

The arrow chunks into the ground in between

The Feathered Highwayman stops

He has met the Archer

Flight of wisdom.

Bow down

I drink alone.

 

©2015 Dash McCallen