Sleep Mode Status: 99%...
Sleep Mode Status: 100%...
Commencing Startup...
The hum of my internal machinery whirring to life roused me from my stupor as the nanobots that comprise my secondary nervous system read out my vitals.
Circulatory Regulators: Nominal...
Digestive Processors: Nominal...
Organic Component: Superb...
The nanobots, despite lacking the capability to think on their own, as a collective registered a sense of pride in how well I had taken care of my organic components so far. As the nanobots unlocked their hold on my body, I opened my green, backlit eyes and gathered my surroundings. The small hole in the wall that made up my personal space, registering at 5m by 5m, was barren save for the fluffy exercise mat located prominently in the middle of the room. Wall set cabinets made up nearly the whole wall to the opposite of the doorway that leads to Housing hall5-A, where me and my Wubmoles are a species of largely subterranian mammal-likes. So named after the subterranean living spaces, and the hemacousitc regulators that function as their circulatory system, these creatures are a confusing sight in modern society, even with their abundantly friendly nature. Born from a set of AI, these fluffy grey biomechanical, eusocial creatures were designed to be a friendly and helpful. With all manner of biomechanical advantages in place, even from the moment of birth a single wubmole can contribute its efforts to the survival and growth of the colony. , inside of their colony, aren't typically born, but rather grown, in vats of organic nutrient fluid and nanobots. These vats are known as creches, and wubmoles grown at the same time are creche-mates. were settled. I Slid out of the hole in the wall that constitutes my sleeping chamber, activated the lights and my radio, catching the beginning of the 1st shift news broadcast. Barely listening to the newscaster announce that the new tunnel at digsite-11 had been postponed due to the invasion of 1.3 meter venomous shrews, and how that will affect colony movement throughout the day, I prepared myself the recommended breakfast of all first-years, a mix of 250ml nutrient paste to 500ml distilled root spirits.
Slugging down the foul tasting mixture, I flipped off the morning news, and scrolled through the available channels while performing some basic stretches. Music, Visual Arts, Theatre, and more traveled across the radio waves and danced through my mind as I sorted through my to-do list for the day. I was supposed to meet my creche-guide for the last time today at some point before 1830, as part of my integration into the colony, and begin my role selection. Simply put, I wasn't looking forward to it. Some of my creche-mates had already selected a role for themselves, throwing their all into becoming horticulturalists, or guards, or musicians. I didn't have a clue what I wanted to do, and my nanobots weren't being super helpful in that department either. My creche-guide noted in my bioactivity readout that I am significantly faster, and more dexterous than some of my peers with an inclination for fixing broken machinery... In a colony of self-repairing nanobots and their biological hosts. I'm also gifted in making good use of very limited resources, apparently. Not that you could tell that from my empty living quarters.
It took me a little over an hour to perform the recommended stretches to my satisfaction. By the time I had finished, the constant flipping of the radio faded into background noise. As I took a sip from my nutrient slurry, my ears caught something off. I flipped through the radio again. Again. Again. Again.
There.
A radio pulse from outside the colony, this far underground? The signal was weak and intermittent, but definitely not from a unless they were using a handheld radio for some reason? If that were true then their headphones might be damaged. Circulatory system dysregulation was one of the chief fears of all wubmoles, as the headphones that make up our connection to the colony were also the circulatory machinery that pumped our blood; damage to the headphones could be fatal in a matter of minutes. I put my radio into all channel mode, and sounded an alert.
"Radio signal transmitting from the surface. Potentially damaged wubmole; moving into source. Emergency medical team stand at attention. Soldiers Requested."
Having transmitted this across all channels, I ran out of my room, through the housing hall, into the throughway and stopped dead in my tracks. My creche-guide had told me that the colony was large but for a moment, I had forgotten how extensive it all was. brightly lit hallways extended to my right and left in both directions as far as the eye could see, the stone walls covered in brightly colored paint, hanging plants, and brightly lit strips of wire conduit. In front of me, a rectangular stairway led up and down for a concerning amount of floors. All around me were my colony mates having received the alert that I had just put out. I checked the time; 15 seconds since signal reception, an unknown amount of time since signal transmission, and an unknown amount of time until signal loss.
"I need some help ascending stairway 5" I transmitted.
I backed up, crouched, sprinted, jumped onto the waiting hands of a foreman who had received the transmission and moved to assist my ascent, jumped again with their aid, jumped into the waiting hands of a wubmole who had moved into the stairway to help, and jumped again. On and on for 15, 30, 45, 55 seconds, until I cleared the final railing. The whole colony was on wide alert at this point, soldiers called out across all channels that in that they were moving to access point A-T5. Medevac Team Announced that they would meet the soldiers and the radio contact there in 20 seconds. 2 minutes since signal reception; it was commonly held that the average wubmole could only last 3 minutes without their circulatory regulator. Moving on borrowed time, I sprinted clear through to the access point, a neat, circular hole cut into the hide of the Ozark Mountain range, covered over with a series of carbon fiber shutters. The medevac, with their staff of wizards and surgeons had beaten me to the door, and I could hear the soldiers coming up behind me. Opening the shudders, I transmitted the exact radio frequency to the assembled team. A Soldier stood out, his blue-grey tufted fur barely visible behind the carbon composite armor and helmet, "I'm the best at tracking of those here, I lead, then the radio contact" he said, gesturing to me "then the military unit and the medevac team.
The shutters finished their ascent, and I was astonished at what I saw for a moment; A sea of greenery was just barely visible underneath the early morning fog of this cold October, a paw beaten path our only visible way through. I had been told about the outside, had seen it in paintings and radio-messages, but nothing could prepare me for the infinite blue sky and the endless seeming expanse of the world from the high vantage point that we had. The soldiers behind me jogged me out of my stupor with a gentle tap on the shoulder for which I was thankful as we began to pick our way down the treacherous mountain path. The signal, faint as it was, guided us unwaveringly towards a dense forest of trees with little in the way of space between the walls of clinging vines. The lead Soldier didn't stop for a moment though, he simply leveled his cannon and fired off a small volley of compressed soundwaves, leveling a meter wide path into the fog soaked forest.
2 minutes 45 seconds since signal reception; We came to a small clearing in the forest, dominated by a single, giant, vine choked tree.
"The signal is coming from here, last ping 30 seconds ago." I announced to the group, as we entered the clear space.
The Soldier in front paused, looked around, paused again, and began to laugh.
"There's your radio contact, newbie." he said, pointing into the branches of the tree.
Overhead, just visible from around the tree, a mangle of metal was held, suspended from the vines, both the machine and the vines entangling it, writhing, the machine struggling to break free, the vines struggling to entrap it further. The lead soldier performed a circular gesture over his head.
"Radio contact confirmed. Drone. release alert status. Newbie forgot that other sentients exist."
The group visibly relaxed as he announced the all clear signal over all channels.
My cheeks burned, "Can we at least bring it down and fix it up, that vine looks like its eating my radio contact." I asked, bristling at the embarrassment.
Finishing his chuckle, the lead soldier said "You can bring it down and fix it, I can sit here and guard you, and everybody else here can go back to what they were doing." he promptly finished this sentiment, brushed off the top of a log, and sat on it.
Growling at the nerve of this guy, I backed up, ran, jumped onto the side of the tree, jumped off, reached out and grabbed what I could of the vines and the machine. It took me a fraction of a second to consider what might have gone wrong with my plan before me, a good chunk of the vines, and the machine fell to the ground. The last thing I noticed before I blacked out was a radio alert.
"I'm gonna need that medevac team after all." Then all was silent save for the hum of my headphones.
When I awoke for the second time that day, the first thing I noticed was that I was no longer looking out into the endless expanse of the sky. The second thing that registered was that I was in the hospital hall. This was not unusual in that only a few days ago had I been released from my creche and given my own living space, routine visits to the hospital hall were part of my daily schedule until I settled into being awake and mobile. What was new about this was that I was't in an exam room but a recovery room. A drained blood bag overhead indicated what had happened. I radioed out, and a chubby wubmole in a lab coat rounded the corner.
"Ah, glad to see your awake again. I'm Doctor Lucent. How are you feeling?"
"I'm feeling all right, nothing new or bad. Is everybody else okay?"
"Relax, everybody is alright. You fell a considerable distance, and then that drone landed on top of you. Nobody else was even hurt, unless you count the drone."
I looked around the recovery room. "Hey, where is the drone? Did it get brought to the hospital wing?"
"Ah, about that. Your creche-guide was in earlier, along with the soldier who radioed in your medevac. They've decided that since you have the aptitude, and lacking any other duties in the colony" the doctor squirmed a little. "That you would be placed in charge of repairing the drone and getting it back to its owner. Even if that means leaving the colony."