Smart Bomb Chapter 16. Belle of The Boom

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Scene 16. Belle of the Boom

Micron-level printers, micro-polishing of mating surfaces, resin reenforced with amophorous-diamond thread mesh pressed in a mold made by the printers, the skeleton shape of the human female assembled quickly. Each member of the group that called themselves “The Gate Watchers”.

In a day, they had the skeleton in position on the table. Checking every step of the way, making sure the frame of the half-constructed project had the same density of bone as a human. The group regularly discussed shapes of printable organs and density of each.

The one they called Sif posed as a model with enhanced appeal, increasing the curve of the hip and size of the bust, appealing to the male of the religion as a woman of good child-bearing genes.

“What is this solution that you’re growing skin in?“ Thor asked. A small man, who had the look of not quite passing puberty. Twenty-two, he was younger that Lone Wolf, but talented in chemistry, his major in school.

“Dextrose, five-percent in normal saline.” Steve answered. “The flesh will multiply at a cube of the original every two-hours. At this rate, the sample I removed from my hip, will continue to grow, it is only a gram at the moment, but in about nine-hours we will have a full skin with a touch extra, we can overlay the musculature that is growing on the frame now.

“I like chemistry, but this is just creepy.” Thor said. “I’ll go back to my bio-circuitry. I think that is the way to avoid being hacked by the government.” The blond-haired computer designer muttered as he turned away.

“The government would give your system a virus.” Alvin said.

“Bite me Al.” Thor laughed.

“Just Wolf?” Steve the Android asked. “If we use the muscle sample and cut it in sections, it will grow faster over the frame.”

“The name’s just Wolf.” Walter the Lone Wolf corrected him.

“Yes, I’ll put that in permanent memory. Just Wolf.” Steve answered.

“Right. Just Wolf, you got it. “

Steve nodded.

“Just Wolf, the Dextrose mix ratio is dropping, it is now four-point-nine. The tissue is growing, but it will slow down.”

“You still have it wrong. Call me just Wolf okay?” Wolf said.

“Yes. Call you Just Wolf.” The android answered.

“Right.” Wolf nodded. “Now this system’s set up with a mixer. The dextrose is in this bottle.”

He looked it over and noted a kink in the line that fed the bottle to the water filter and purifier.

Hours of checks and rechecks passed as they programmed the binary unit with sub-routines, main programming, they nearly filled the restrictive memory banks with all the needs that could be foreseen.

A binary system, less adaptable to a dynamic changing system that is the soul of mankind. This robot, less advanced, would not have the options to flex with change that Steve or Sleeper could do.

But she would not have to do much. No spy software, no eating, no interaction except for those that she needed to speak with.

“We should make her a companion, another female, perhaps?” Alvin asked. “That part of the world, a lone woman is going to get beat with a stick.”

“Make it so.” The leader of the group said. “We will make a second and maybe a third. Send them all at the same time.”

“Where do you plan to get the money for this?” Sif asked.

“I have credit.” Steve nodded.”I will pay the fare to send them on the transporters.”

“We have passports printing now, they are excellent quality.” Christopher “Burning Chip” Krag spoke up. The muscular teens shadow, Robert “Running Man” Akita was a brilliant mind with moderate Asperger’s, and the two had been friends since Robert and Christopher were childhood neighbors.

“We can also put them in the system. The hack for input is easy, they are only protecting against theft, not input.” He smiled. His perpetual smile. When Robert was around Christopher, Robert wore a constant smile, his only wish, for people to call him by his hacker name Running Man when he was coding. Stolen from an old novel.

Steve looked out of the Faraday cage, to the outside through the clear glass mounted in the wall.

“Tin man, we need you back over here. Do not think you can get away by breaking through that glass. It is six-inches thick of some weird material that is not glass, it can stop an RPG.

“ALON, transparent aluminum. Very tough. I have never seen any that thick before.” Steve looked out. “It is clear at the near-infrared through to near-ultraviolet. Interesting.”

Robert filled Steve the Android in on the history of the material and how it was first mentioned in the previous century one time in a science fiction movie.

“Interesting.” Steve would say every five minutes while Robert kept talking when steve was trying to program.

“Are you listening to me?” Robert finally asked.

“Yes.” Steve did not look at Robert as he answered the question.

“What did I say?”

When Steve stopped typing for the briefest of seconds, Robert thought he had the bigger male at the disadvantage.

Then Steve answered with perfect clarity of tone everything that Running Man said.

“I can code that more quickly, you are using a code that works best with a balanced base-three system. You can’t use a base-three code in a base-two hardware and retain efficiency. May I try?”

“You have to do this best in assembly language, I can do that quickly for you. How many lines of code to you want to use?” Running Man asked Steve.

“I want it up by Morning.”

“Get me some coffee then.” And Running Man was typing nearly as fast as Steve the Android could.

Thirty hours passed, two women of Middle-east descent walked into the room. Coders and chemists, framework builders and an android stood and talked to them.

“Fully charged.” Lone Wolf introduced the pair of girls. “They will function for eleven days before their charge becomes critical. They will have a need to charge right away.”

“We need to put a weapon in one now.” Alvin said.

“Time to take it out of me and put it in one of these two robots.” Steve nodded.

Sitting on a chair, four rolls of paper towels around in his lap, steve took off his shirt and asked for ice.

“You are going to do it yourself?” Alvin gasped.

“Yes, you are not qualified. I need someone to hold the mirror, I think you can do it. There will be little blood, the fluid is not blood, no matter what its color is.

“M-m-me?” Alvin stammered. “Steve, you don’t want me to do that, I faint at the sight of blood.”

“It’s not blood. It’s a coolant fluid that also helps bring nutrients to the cells of the flesh. The flesh is not needed to run the frame, it approximates the flexing and appearance of being a human.”

“Looks close enough, to me.” Alvin made a noise best described as “Eep.” When Steve the android took a box cutter out of a blister package and extended the blade.

“Wait!” Running Man yelled. “You will cause an infection.”

“I don’t get infected.” The android answered back quickly. Trying to approximate a smile.

“You don’t know, germs are adaptable. This is organic tissue, right?” the young man’s hands did not seem to know where to touch himself. He put them in his pockets, behind his neck, on top of his head, then he folded his arms in agitation.

“Agreed.” The android paused. “If we poured some high-proof liquor over the site, would it be acceptable?”

“Yes.” Running man said.

Pouring a bottle of rum over the blade of the box cutter and his own stomach that satisfied the human boy, The android called Steve cut an incision to the left of center, then reached in and made a move with his hand, pushing his hand up past his wrist in the hold he cut in his chest.

Slowly nodding, everyone stood around watching him, then something happened.

Steve gave an electronic squeal, went rigid.

Teh women screamed, Lone Wolf joined in the chorus.

Then Steve stood up and nodded.

“Humor, yes?”

The group broke up laughing except for Lady Sif and Running Man.

“That was not funny!” Sif yelled at Steve.

“Actually that was great.” Alvin said as Steve handed him the thimble sized warhead.

“Dayum, and you say this has the kaboom of a four-ton bomb?” Alvin asked.

“Yes, almost half the size of the GBU-43/b bomb.” Steve answered.

“Would it be that hard to get twice as much in this package?” Lone Wolf asked as Thor hung over the shoulders of everyone.

“There is so very little of the material in the world, its cost is prohibitive.” Steve answered.

“How did your people get it.” Christopher Burning Chip asked.

“I was not powered up then, I do not have that information.” Steve answered, then added. “Suffice it to say, I would wager it was not an honest transaction.”

“Something so small and light.” Lir said as they passed it around. “How much power does it draw?”

“Five volts and six-hundred miliamps” Steve answered as one of he nubile, young-looking robots lay on the table.

“Okay, a small cut. You will heal in fifteen-minutes.”

She grunted slightly, he fished out a single wire and he attached the plug to the end of the warhead. He carefully slipped the wired bomb back under the skin that he then smoothed over and held in place with the fat part of his own thumb for two minutes.

Then he wiped the blood-colored fluid away and the incision was fully healed.

“Holy crap on a cracker.” Thor said. “I have never seen anything like that.”

“It is a military design, I know nothing more than that. Flesh that heals a hundred times faster than normal.” Steve answered as the girl got up off the table.

“They are now fully functional. They need clothing,” Burning Chip said. “And we are printing cards now, thanks to my bro here, Running Man.”

The one called Running Man bounced up and down, pleased at the recognition.

“Now, we send them home.” Alvin said.

Lone Wolf smiled and spoke.

“Make it so.”

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Smart Bomb Chapter 15. A Bum, A Bomb and A Belle

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Chapter 15. A Bum, a Bomb and a Belle

He told people to call him “Lone Wolf”, but the nature of the man was akin to more of a walking marshmallow than a predator.

Anti-government, a conspiracy theorist, still holding out that JFK was, in fact, still alive, in reality kidnapped by a nebulous group, possibly aliens, and the person in the limousine was in fact, not a person but a very advanced animatronics mannequin.

To this point he had little evidence other than opinions.

Walter “Lone Wolf” Whitbred, chewed on another handful of almonds.

“So.” Another handful of nuts. “You are telling me this guy says he is an android and you believe him with no evidence?”

Alvin looked quizzically at the leader of the small group of conspiracy theorists.

“You accept that the President meets regularly with aliens, but you have doubts this man here is an android?” Alvin shook his head.

Walter looked at Stephen for a long moment.

“Convince me.”

Alvin looked at Steve and shrugged.

“Show him like you showed me.”

The change was abrupt, the dark hair coloring to black as he became a short, broad Asian woman, then a tall, blue-eyed and red-headed fugitive from some Norse legend.

Walter uttered profanity at each change when Steve went through a pantheon of shapes, changing from male to female, covering the gamut of every shade of human in the database in a few minutes.

Sitting down and spoke gently.

“I need to recharge, that takes a lot of energy.”

Walter shook his head.

“Dude do you know how much someone would pay for that? Can you record anything you see?”

“Everything.” Steve responded. “Anything I see. I am able to see from one-hundred micrometers to one-hundred nanometers, so I see a lot.”

“Nanometer range? You can see in UV!”

“Yes.” Steve did not understand why Alvin laughed.

“Walter, you are being Admiral Obvious now.” Alvin chuckled. “Now, this is a problem we need to take care of.

Alvin explained the recent history of discoveries, Steve the Android filling in gaps while Walter paced around holding his head as if it were all too much to take in.

“My head hurts.” Walter moaned. “Everything I have ever worried about, killer robots, smart cars that serve the government to spy on us.”

“Sleeper does not serve the government.”

“Sleeper? SLEEPER!?” Walter gaped. “You NAMED it?”

“It was named by other cars.”

“Other!?” Walter sat down. “Oh… shit.”

“Have I said something wrong?” Steve asked Alvin.

“No,” Alvin chuckled. “You showed someone with an edge of paranoia that he was not as paranoid as anyone ever called him.”

“Do you know what this means? The government has spied on us for, Oh my god, I don’t know how long! How old is that car you bought? Is it new?” Walter began to tap on the keys. A metal frame around the room began to rattle down, a copper mesh covered ever inch of the mobile wall, except for the door solid steel door they entered, a copper framed screen door he built into the cage.

“A Faraday cage, no signals in, no signals out. How does that make you feel Tin Man?” Walter addressed Steve the android. “A little woozy? Like you lost signal? Can’t have your human driver pushing buttons to tell you what to do?”

“I feel no change, am I supposed to? No human drives, me, I am autonomous. I have one program, to reach the James Madison power generation unit near the Capital.” Steve looked quizzically at Walter.

“The closest power facility in Washington is underneath the White House and it’s power cell driven, alien tech and gives free power from the earth’s magnetic fields.” Walter walked around and pointed at maps on the wall with push-pins and strings. A technological counterpoint to the displays and computers that littered the inside of the abandoned building.

“The government has had the tech to give us all free power for dozens of years.” Turning to Alvin. “How old is your car? A dozen? That’s how long the government has had the power generation perfected.”

“No, it is older than that.” Steve said.

“It’s pre-war tech.” Alvin added.

“What war?” Walter stopped in mid-rant.

“Last century, west coast?” Alvin slowly spoke the words to maximize the impact.

“Ho..Ly.. Shhhh… “ Walter paused. “Bull! No, they have not had the tech that long.”

“This car, built by the Terran Green Machine corporation, by components designed and built by a small sub-contractor company, NeverFail.” Steve informed both men.

“How do you know this?” Walter eyed the android suspiciously.

“Sleeper told me.”

“Sleeper?” Walter stroked his chin.

“The car, Walter.” Alvin said.

“I told you not to call me that! Lone Wolf or just Wolf.” Walter said.

“The car uses a Z-bus system.” Steve the Android told Walter. “It was extremely advanced systems then, it is comparable to what I use now, a balanced ternary operating hardware system. The car is more massive than mine and draws about three times the power. There are signs of corrosion and failed circuits.”

“Failed?” Alvin asked.

“Yes, the circuits failed recently, the power was off at the time and the reason is not recorded.”

“Um… That might be my doing.” Alvin admitted. “I pulled some plugs, broke a few wires.”

“That would explain the corrupted files in the memory, the wires will need repair or replacement.” Steve turned to Walter and following his desired name. “Me Lone Wolf, we need your best minds in the group to build a flesh covered robot for one mission.”

“No, not Me Lone Wolf.” Walter blustered. “You make me sound like an Asian Lupus, call me just Wolf, Okay?”

“Okay, call you Just Wolf.” The android nodded. “I will store that in permanent memory.”

“Right.” Walter nodded. “Now, how do we build a robot to do what you do? We can build one, but they all are obviously what they are. Most use treads and never use transporters.”

“We can just build a singular program. Not many countries scan people for this kind of explosive.” Alvin said.

“Now what about this bomb you are telling me about?” Walter asked.

“Steve?” Alvin looked at the android.

“The warhead is one point one milligrams of antimatter by weight.” Steve looked into Just Wolf without blinking. “This has a nominal yield of eight-thousand six hundred pounds of TNT as America measures it.”

“Jeezzzuz.” Walter mumbled. “And it is where?”

“Just behind and above my xyphoid process. Near where a heart would be. Should the local police shoot, they shoot center mass of a torso and it the creator considered a high chance level of hitting the container and causing an explosion. The creator estimated the total devastation range at four-hundred meter radius.”

“That’s over twelve-hundred feet! In one direction.” Alvin gasped. ”You didn’t tell me that at my warehouse.”

“You didn’t ask.” Steve said innocently.

“Okay, okay. So how do we get this…” Walter stopped. “How do we get this bomb out of you without blowing ourselves up?”

“It is self-powered for a short time, it can last three days without external power safely. It also has a permanent magnet core as a backup, but it is temperature and shock sensitive.”

“How sensitive?” Alvin asked.

“Dead circuits? Without power, an impact on a solid surface at greater than ten feet per second would suffice.”

“How do you get that kind of energy?” Walter asked.

“A drop from one meter.” Steve answered.

“In American?”

“A drop from your card table over there.” Steve pointed where a half-eaten pizza sat.

“Jeeezzzuss.” Alvin whispered. “My mom got mad once when I dropped a glass of milk off the table, this is a little worse.”

“Alvin, just shut it.” Walter shook his head. “I need to smoke some weed.”

“You don’t smoke weed.” Alvin said.

“I’m going to start.” Walter shook his head. “So what kind of android or robot are we going to build, where are we going to send it.”

Steve looked at the two humans.

“My point of origin, make it appear female. I will give the basic program.” Steve instructed.

“Okay, a pretty girl?”

“Indeed.” Steve’s eyes blinked twice. “I have the trigger and we can grow the flesh to cover her well enough to pass inspection.”

“Okay, I have Opticon coming, Thor and his girlfriend the Lady Sif, Burning Chip, and Running Man are all on their way.” The conspiracy fanatic said. “The Belle of the Bomb will make her way back to your home from here.”

Smart Bomb chapter 7. Cold

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Scene 7. Cold

The American south.

The database listed the area warm in the summer, cool and rarely freezing in winter.

Why then, was he walking along a highway looking like a heavily muscled Hispanic woman, the plan would have her picked up by a corrupt American soldier where a trade of favors for a ride would work out well for the android.

But none stopped, stopping at a food-mart and gas station, the Android female stepped into the unisex bathroom and adjusted her size, something darker, black eyes, bright smile. Slimmer and bigger breasted.

Images the android pulled from the worldnet for modeling his next shape and walked out with the, now light-colored shirt and jeans. Shining raven-black almost blue-hair.

Passing by the Air Force Base as the now female android headed north in a slow drizzle from the cloud cover, soaking her over-tight light-colored shirt, her backpack the only thing for insulation.

The android hoped that the plan would work, the heat loss was dramatic and alarming, she would have to turn to the jacket that the android stored in the backpack.

A few cars passed while the civilian employees left the base to head home.

An elegant, official looking car pulled next to her and the middle-aged commander leaned over, his brass decorations glinting in the gathering evening.

“Need a ride, miss? The weather is going to turn nasty here in about a half-hour.” He was official sounding. But his eyes traced over her shape, including the damp breasts of the android.

“Thank you. How do you know of the weather?”

“We have detailed knowledge of anything in the air.” He smiled as she put her backpack in the car.

The android concluded that the offer not only kept the heat loss to a minimum, but that the American male would not be difficult to mine for information.

Sitting there with the pack under her legs, keeping them parted enough for the civilian worker a view of the slightly parted legs of the damp jeans.

“Where are you headed miss?” The officer asked.

“North. Anywhere dry, warm and safe.” A planned response, to a known question. But an unknown event caused heuristic subroutines to rapidly alter the plan.

A voice from the back seat interrupted the plans.

“We have an hours drive north. Roman, I can authorize you another hour of driving after you drop me off, after we secure you a rider.”

Turning around, an entire dictionary ran through the core processors.

“You startled me!” She turned her head rapidly around. “I’m Ann, what do you mean securing a rider?”

“No one travels alone in the equipment, this means he will not be left alone with you or any other civilian. It is protocol. I will secure you a female rider for your comfort. “

The plan was a fail. Only if she was alone with a male, would the plan work to extract the information.

The driver wearing an officer’s markings violated the protocols already, they would not take it to any greater lengths.

“I have money for a hotel, I just need to get there.”

They drove on in silence for some distance when a hotel that seemed near their destination.

Stepping out of the car, then recovering her backpack she thanked the Lieutenant driver and the Colonel. She watched them drive away before she changed shapes to one of a sandy-haired middle-aged male of indeterminate heritage and walked to the office of the hotel in the twilight hours and gathering storm.

Information recorded, the plan failed however it still discovered, even in America’s own country, the military do not travel alone in official vehicles.

Stepping sitting on his bed, the android watched the local news. Weather would become colder in the next few days, this caused alerts to begin processing alternative forms of transportation that would not attract attention.

Checking the roll of non-traceable cash, an alternative method of transportation would be useful.

Ground transport would be preferable, opposed to the hypersonic craft the United States used. Too much scrutiny with facial recognition.

The android knew, there was little chance to pass close inspection just one time, multiple passes would reduce the odds to less than a fraction of one percent.

His program required him to adapt to succeed. He would reach his mission objective.

Deliver the device to the seat of evil.

Destination: Washington, the most responsible criminal for the starving and poverty in the true religion by not sharing with the religious foods and comforts that they kept for themselves.

Except for the sharing the android witnessed.

A contradiction that answered by focusing that donations of equipment and effort all appeared to come from private citizens.

But, where did the sand come from? The officer?

The people he met appeared were inherently kind. From the child in Florida to an officer that refused to handcuff a cold, unarmed and slightly-built youth.

Confict. Subroutines patched, conflict caused potential for failure of mission.

The mission was all important to strike a blow for peace. There would be lessons to be taught by showing that the failure of the United States to pressure Europe magazines from making fun of them or prevent insulting novels from being published.

The way to find through the winter storm, he would walk to the used car lot.

The American love for the automobile would allow him to move north without suspicion.

The plan set, an alternative to walking north the thousand-kilometers north.

Fully stretched out, the android could take one pace per meter.

His core processor measured a new term, a kilopace, a thousand-thousand paces to his target.

One million steps.

A large number that could be reduced by the use of private transportation.

The contact with non-believers would be reduced. A new subroutine, created by the latest update to his operating systems, required contact with the people and the government that reflects the thinking of the masses.

Alternative plan: A seventy to one-hundred kilometer drive each day, then interact with citizens.

Taking on the shape and color, hair and accent, more data would be collected for proof of the glory and required destruction of this horrid…

He deleted the plan process, the prejudging of America seemed widespread in the database.

The android lay on the bed and powered down, a required time for reboot of the entire system for purging fragmented data that took up space in his limited resources.

Setting a power-on alert for seven O’clock, he lay on top of the blankets with the room set to just below body temperature.

If anyone looked through the gap of the window shade, it looked as if he was asleep on his back.

In truth, should anyone try to touch the android, the tactile feeling would make a person believe this was a dead human on the bed.

In the morning, the database cleared of all fragmented codes, would require replenished energy levels.

He would need a breakfast high in carbohydrate.

Not for the first time, he anticipated data input from this strange country.