3G: the Glowing Green Goo

Zax’s neural nanites used custom-made software and language. They could send data and orders to other devices, but receiving them required special conversion, such as the translator installed in Zax’s bracelet. The syntax was naturally too different even if the vocable was similar. When the Core had hacked into his nanites, it likely used brute force, figuratively; it overloaded them with information to take over weakened areas and use its own ‘pareidolia’ program, but it hadn’t been able to understand the local language.

Therefore, it wasn’t surprising that the Core had left his instructions in a basic file. Better to use a common format and send it to other, non-neural nanites using more common software. A text was as good as any other format. Another point against the Core tempering with his mind, too.

The complexity its content made Zax reconsider the value of this reasoning. His orders were simple and plainly labelled, but confusing, but why were there so many text pictures? Why were they so detailed? The end result was so large no screen, holographic or not, would be wide enough to see everything at once. And all those possible scenarios to manually sort through? An interactive format would definitely be more appropriate. Or maybe that was on purpose? To slow him down?

Whatever it was, he was too tired to speculate about it anymore.

It could be just to flex for all I know.

When the space opened to his destination – not the dot, as he feared – it at least gave context to the pictures. The setup was relatively simple; he was in a bedroom sized control room with many dials and levers, pullies and valves. The walls, floor and roof were dull white, and everything else was various shades of grey. The controls each affected something in the neighbouring test room, and the text file told him what they did and roughly how. With characters arranged in pictures. The most surprising was the total lack of electronics in the room; not even a button to push, everything was mechanical. Even the lighting was from phosphorescent plates on the roof and walls, with mirrors sending light through the transparent far wall and into the test room.

That room was the same size, but with a faraway ceiling and totally empty save for its occupant: not-Zila, freed, shaken and still naked. His eyes locked on Zax as soon as he stepped in. His lips were moving, but Zax couldn’t make anything out. After signing that and confirming it was mutual, he focused on his task.

Fill the main vat, empty it, rinse and repeat, until nothing happens.

That was the gist of it. He was to take his time too, so that was some pressure off his shoulders. He could pour over the schematics and actually understand what it was all about. The most important controls were obvious from their size and position at the centre, facing the test room; one lever opened a sluicing gate, filling a tank out of sight above them and a second one opened a grated aperture in the centre of the test room. A dial between them determined how much that tank could be filled, but there was no number on the dial. Only one gate could be open at a time, and the dial couldn’t be moved unless both were closed. An “Integrated Safety measure”, the diagrams claimed.

The other controls were all around the room and could affect many parameters of the test room, from its brightness to its dimensions. For some reason it could be cooled somewhat, but not heated. To avoid any screw ups, Zax used his nanites to make tags and write what each did, fiddling with some to be sure he wasn’t mistaking them.

He had a hunch as to what the Core wanted, but it didn’t make sense. Still, he could only follow through.

Zax set the amount dial to one click and pulled the first lever to fill the vat. The amount was quickly reached and the lever moved back, letting Zax pull the other. The circular opening in the test room’s roof opened like a diaphragm, prompting not-Zila to press his back in a corner, where he could only watch and wait for what was about to fall.

It was… a drop?

It was too small for Zax so see, but he would describe it as a dull green, round drop of mercury. An acid? Was he supposed to torture the prisoner until the Core had enough? No, this place was not adapted to that…

His worries disappeared and his hunch was confirmed when not-Zila identified the substance and threw himself at it. When his hand touched it, the drop simply vanished, and he looked back at Zax with exited eyes, laughing and thoroughly enjoying himself. He put himself under the aperture, arms spread, calling for more. Zax couldn’t hear the shouts, but he didn’t need to.

It seemed the Core took his idea literally.

I expected a bit more glow in the famed Glowing Green Goo.

It was the first time Zax peeked at it for real despite 3G units being the lone currency of the Shelter, as the dot used a dematerialised system. They never manipulated it physically, only digital numbers, and any withdrawal was to be absorbed directly at the few strategically placed and highly secured distribution points, like the one targeted by not-Zila and his team. Technically, it wasn’t forbidden to take some and store it on your own, but there was no point. Even small exchanges were no more than a few finger swipes away on their bracelet, and underground trade found it easier and more cost-effective to make a temporary fake account than to keep and hide actual 3G. If a living being merely grazed it, they would lose a big part of their stash.

The Circles had deeper mutations and stronger disruptive fields, so using computers wouldn’t be wise. Only wide scale transactions were dematerialised, and not purely with computers, but Zax didn’t know what they used. Some advanced biotechnology, no doubt. Daily interactions used actual 3G, sealed in standardised containers. Zax had seen it on TV, but since the 3G wasn’t detectable by technology and thus didn’t appear on camera, he only ever saw props or the containers themselves; small and flat metal boxes with a transparent circle in the centre, with different shapes and sizes for different values. The see-through part allowed one to visually check for the presence, amount and purity of the product, and the containers were made for easy absorption and refill of the content.

It was no wonder the former Resident could identify it at a glance. Zax thought he would be more cautious than that, however. Or did he only expect to be rewarded? Well, he couldn’t be blamed for that; Zax himself didn’t see how that could be a punishment. There was no such thing as “too much 3G”. Any absorbed 3G was somehow stored throughout the organism, dormant until the next activation. Zax had already studied the question, and had never heard of adverse effects, no matter the quantity or duration.

On the other hand, it would assuage some of his previous doubts. Someone had to be there because the Core couldn’t detect the 3G and wouldn’t discern if it was doing nothing. He was the best choice among the group because he didn’t mutate, meaning he had no reason to try and get some 3G for himself, risking sabotage of whatever was going on. The room lacked electronics because mechanical devices were significantly less sensitive to the disruptive fields and an activation was fully expected.

It had been obvious, really. Zax had just refused to consider the criminal would be rewarded. He still did.

The layout and uniformity of the room also made Zax surmise that the Core had built everything on its own. All the pipes were in a single piece, not a joint was visible even at angles, all solidary pieces seemed moulded as a single part, not a screw or a nail present; all of which was compatible with full nanite construction. Deactivated to not be affected by the coming disruption, of course.

Zax frowned. He was confident in his conclusions, but it didn’t solve his main issue. Still, there was nothing he could do but continue. He started by asserting and tagging values on the amount dial, progressively increasing it and comparing the size and colour of what was falling straight on his willing subject. Not easy since it disappeared so fast on contact, but he managed. The colour was always the same, the levers took steadily longer to pull themselves back, and the size increased linearly with the number of clicks. Simple.

Once done, he chose a small amount and pulled the levers one after the other. He quickly fell in a rhythm, filling the vat, emptying it, filling it again, emptying it again, pulling a lever after the other. He didn’t even watch the subject anymore.

Somehow, the repetitiveness reminded him of his first jobs. And as with them, he let go of his thoughts and worries, his mind ebbing and drifting away.

He wondered how long had passed since his abrupt awakening by the emergency alarm. A full day? Half a day? A few hours? Time had passed so fast and yet so slow, he couldn’t tell. He hadn’t checked the hour since he woke up, so his inner clock wouldn’t help. He knew it wasn’t several days, at least.

What had Aran done afterwards? General information about the incident were a mere query away on her bracelet, but she could only guess why he had been called or what his role had been. Information about the Wall and its nanites wouldn’t reach the public reports anytime soon, but people talked, and she knew her way around people. Would she put the effort? Ask for more details? Go to the scene? Keep on going with her life normally?

Hoping she closed the door behind her. There are children in the complex.

What did the Enforcers do when they received his message? Keeping watch over the damaged wall and the surrounding was obvious, but besides that? Quarantining his B-Box shouldn’t be hard for them, but did they take his warning seriously? And even if they did, what did they do about it? He had warned them since despite his expertise, or maybe because of it, he hadn’t trusted the Core – still didn’t, actually – but he couldn’t fathom what they could do. Would do. Should do.

His musings were interrupted when his test subject did more than enjoy himself. His 3G finally activated, and he mutated.

For a few moments, Zax couldn’t help but consider that this whole adventure had been worth it.

In the dot, mutations were usually small scale, quickly done, subtle, or at least discreet. The most obvious would be a patch of hair or scales growing, or a change in colour somewhere. More than that in a single activation would be ground to celebration, even when it was not as huge as growing new limbs. Actually, the destruction of any and all active electric components around, from the disruptive field, was usually the most obvious sign someone nearby was changing, and it was over before one could turn around.

That was not the case here.

It started with a low green glow on his whole body, only visible thanks to his nakedness and the lack of light source around him. The same light sharpened and brightened in specific parts of his body, marking dots and connecting them with lines, drawing glowing veins. They moved with his every movement, giving the illusion of being drawn not on, but through his body. Quite uncanny, but also…

Fascinating!

Zax spotted a few places with increased numbers and close to actual shapes that could match where actual organs would be.

Before the veins were complete, they…blurred, somehow. It reminded Zax of a filter on a picture, like censorship. Movement followed. It was not clear at all, but something was definitely shuffling around. No matter where he observed or how much he focused on a single area, Zax couldn’t define what he was seeing; the lines were wriggling, twisting, zapping, some lines breaking, joining, fading, knotting… a jumble of hidden movement he couldn’t hope to follow. So, he didn’t try, focusing instead on the more obvious effect; the bodily changes. They were stronger and faster at places the lines glowed the brightest, one part of the body after the other.

His remaining wounds fully healed, the replaced parts already green and scaly with the coming mutations. He grew taller and slimer. His bones stretched but his muscles didn’t widen to compensate. Supple green and yellow scales grew all over his body with a clean and efficient layout; none overlapping or sticking out. His nails slightly retracted but didn’t change much. His irises grew yellow as his sclera retracted and his tongue blackened, but both kept their original shapes and sizes, which as emphasised by the slight changes in his skull’s shape. The structure didn’t seem to be altered but his face was notably rounder and longer; although not enough to be called a proto-muzzle. Or a proto-snout.

Several points went against Zax’s expectations. The subject’s growth didn’t include an increase in muscle mass, neglecting strength and power, probably in favour of something else. He also kept his hair, which was a common loss among scalies. Zax wondered what his scalp felt like, untouched or with tiny scales between follicles? Lastly, he didn’t grow any hint of a tail, not even signs of preparation for one to come.

When the 3G was totally consumed, lines faded in an instant, following by the general glow, stopping the mutation. The subject kept looking at himself, turning around to catch the light of the control room, trying to see every part of his body. His exhilaration was pouring off his non-existent pores. It had lasted at least half a minute, and the result was mostly human with snake features. The all but hidden nails and new facial shape were most telling; it was specifically a snake, not a lizard, not another reptile; not a general reptile, but not a specific snake either. The colours and their position didn’t match any; and the possibly temporary lack of hood and fangs were not helping to narrow it down. Zax would say it wasn’t an existing species, but while he had studied the question for his hobby, he wouldn’t call himself a quotable source.

[ Emergency recording successful ]

[ Archive E0195 saved ]

Totally forgot about that!

Zax had made a program set to automatically record all his sensory input if he thought there was an activation nearby, both as training and for fun, but in vain so far. Not to say it didn’t work; there had been many close calls over time. A hundred and ninety-four, apparently. He would browse this recording at leisure later. He had first hand observation to sort through first.

The glow and glowing veins justified the name given to the substance at least, although it didn’t sound particularly scientific. Zax had read about the veins, they appeared when the mutation was deep or spread enough, but they didn’t match at all with what the dramas and special effects showed. From the reports he knew, what had transpired was a typical mutation in the First Circle. Average depth, average result, immediately functional but probably not done and to be completed in further activations. Which wouldn’t happen until he got some 3G back in the organism and fulfilled the conditions. Common for a poor person at the end of their career or a rich person anytime. Way beyond what any dotter could ever hope.

Zax couldn’t assess the less visible changes, the inner organs and physiology, but there didn’t seem to be major deviations. The subject was still wounded during the activation, so his enhanced healing had definitely been improved further, but the actual healing couldn’t be used as a reference. There was no way to measure how much had been fixed by his body and how much the 3G had simply replaced the damaged parts.

As the human was making his conclusions, the new snakeman was testing his body, and Zax realised two things: the strength he hadn’t developed had been spent on flexibility but not reflexes, and the other controls of the room could be used to orient the mutations and prevent the subject from getting… uncontainable. Among other things. He did ponder about that, only the two levers and one dial seemed relevant so far.

Unfortunately, the rooms didn’t offer many ways to measure the changes in an uncooperative subject. Not wanting to look at a gift horse in the mouth, as he had already seen more than expected, Zax went back to his task, but this time he experimented with the different controls available. Actually experimented, not simply try everything randomly and see what happened. He had been hammered that lesson in long ago.

He started simple: mixing the 3G with water. Where did that water come from? Why did the Core have access to it? No idea. The results changed the viscosity and opacity of the sample, but nothing else. The sample was absorbed like pure 3G albeit a bit slower, not leaving even water behind unless the sample was extremely diluted. The remaining water was still drinkable.

Same result with alcohol, even in lethal concentrations, and edible oils even in lethal amounts.

Non-edible oils found themselves emptied of 3G, leaving a puddle or a stain on the floor and the subject’s body. His scales didn’t seem grease friendly.

Acidic solutions behaved like water, with direct contact normally burning the subject until the absorption removed the sample. No inner damages constated, the subject didn’t seem uncomfortable beyond the surface burn. Zax wasn’t aiming for any kind of reputation in any scientific field, so he wouldn’t deny having used that information to make the prisoner force himself to endure pain to get his fix. He healed faster with each activation anyways.

Zax likewise mixed different solvents, varied the temperature, forced activations by inflicting injuries, and generally enjoyed himself. He had studied the effect of the 3G, but never how it ended up in the organism; that had never been a concern. He probably didn’t make any breakthrough, and it was doubtlessly pointless, but he learnt a lot. He was able to test a few common theories too, like the influence of purity, and the priority between needs, conscious wants and unconscious desires.

Eventually, the good time had to end. He had likely spent many times the whole dot’s annual consumption of 3G already; the subject would be hard to recognise to any former acquaintances. The successive activations had made the subject’s scales resistant to strong acids and bases, and apparently dulled or removed altogether his pain receptors. They were now a dull silvery grey, either as side effect of their new resistances or as an attempt at camouflage in the white room. He had ended up losing his hair too, replaced by the same scales as the rest.

His articulations were actually elastic, for increased range of movement and mobility, so he wouldn’t have to stand straight under the vat and could touch the spilled content on his own terms. His limbs and torso had elongated, and his neck had lengthened by a few cervical vertebras, as flexible as the rest of his body. He could stare at his own back without turning, and Zax was as good as sure he could only see infrared. He had strongly turned the room’s temperature down and the brightness up specifically to make normal sight unattractive, and the subject’s pupils were reduced to a thin vertical line amid pale irises, only visible because of the contrast.

Still no sclera in sight, but unlike before it fit with the rest of his face, as it harmonised with his new fully formed muzzle, with forked tongue, venomous fangs, and even an expandable jaw. That one was pretty rare. Zax couldn’t figure out what effect his venom would have, but he was sure that tongue could actually taste air, like an actual snake’s.

His forehead had reduced in size and his skull had rounded further to complement his sleekness, but his field of view was still front facing; his eyes hadn’t moved to the side, showing he still had some way to go with his mutations. Still no hood either. Changing every part of the skull at once, or at least keeping the jaw for last would have been easier, making alterations that built off of each other, so that was noteworthy.

A hesitation in who or what to become? Or just how to reach it?

Another point toward that theory was the tail he had sprouted. It had pushed out of his coccyx, progressively getting as long as his whole body, its base thicker than a leg, fully prehensible and strong enough to lift and throw his whole body from the ground. With its dimensions and power, there was no doubt that it was made for constriction. Zax had two problems with that appendage.

First, a snake’s body was mostly its back, only the very tip was an actual tail. That was a scientifically proven fact. The neck changes of the subject could be argued to follow a snake’s template, but not his tail. Unfortunately, Zax couldn’t determine if there were ribs in there either.

Second, natural snakes can be venomous or constricting, but never both, and mutants tended to follow that rule. The subject’s shrug and neutral acceptance also hinted that it was not a long-lost dream of his.

Regardless, Zax had to ensure that the new limb and strength wouldn’t be used for untoward goals, so he reduced the changing room to stop him from gathering momentum. He shouldn’t have the technique or know-how to do so, but better safe than sorry. His tail might even bother him and shrink or disappear, so that was another experiment to try.

That would make sense, who ever had enough 3G for trial and error?

To be fair, his experiments and forced activations made it hard to determine an optimal result for the mutation. The subject had already gained and lost claws, spikes and spines, webbing, digitigrade or pseudo-ungulate footing and various other features. Zax had never heard of something like that, even in theories, except for emergency activations forced by a great danger that the mutant wouldn’t survive. Even the scales’ colour pattern had had several iterations before settling on the current silvery grey. It had led to unprecedented questions; Zax was never the philosophical type.

He has had everything he ever needed and wanted and then some, what does he want now?

When one has all needs and wants fulfilled, what does one strive for?

… wait, is that the punishment?

It was certainly plausible; the subject’s excitement had totally faded. He simply sat in a corner, with a piece of his tail under the opening in the ceiling. He had long stopped being exited or fearful of what would come. It couldn’t hurt him anymore.

Zax was also out of experiments to try with this installation. The only one he could consider was to fill the room with water or other to try for an amphibious or submarine mutation, but the room didn’t have any evacuation. He couldn’t prevent the subject from using that to escape either; he could stay afloat until he reached the hole in the roof, or gain a mutation to swim and jump there if the water didn’t reach high enough.

Not willing to try it, the dotter simply lowered the light back to low-normal levels and constated the lack of dilatation in the vertical iris of the subject. He didn’t show any reaction besides briefly glancing around.

He noticed. Not pure infrared sight, but only adapted to high light environment. That should change at the next activation.

They were both resigned to be bored out of their minds until the Core let them go, but the next activation wasn’t like the others. So far, the general glow that announced an activation had been weak, but constant even when the lines had been faint, invisible or localised – when there had been barely enough effect to heal a wound or for a minor mutation.

This time, the general glow was a lot stronger and… flickering, and the veins were already blurred when they appeared. Even if they were still as hard to pinpoint, they moved… erratically, for a lack of a better word. Before, there was a clean harmony in the chaos of the changes, it seemed so natural that Zax hadn’t noticed. Now, the lines seemed to fight each other, and Zax was all but sure he glimpsed at collisions and impacts. The subject wasn’t in pain, but he was definitely uneased by what he felt in his body, palpating his torso with a frown. After that the glowing veins collapsed on each other, and his body followed.

Calling it uncanny would be insulting. Terrifying was closer, but didn’t do it justice. Unnatural, ghastly, aberrant were all applicable, but barely scratched the surface.

One area after the other, the hazy veins lost their substance, suffusing through not-Zila’s body, and that part simply melted. It didn’t flow, it merely lost all cohesion and structure, ending as some sort of uniform fluid. When the middle of his forearm fell to the phenomenon, his hand fell to the ground, the puddle still connected to the upper arm with a thin string, and the dropped limb was still moving and feeling! His tail was like pieces of ice in a growing puddle. His face lost all features, even eyes and muzzle warping like wet clay when he tried to slap himself awake.

Not-Zilla tried to rub his body, to hold the liquid in place, to push it away, to stay in place, to run around, but there was no escaping this nightmare.

Soon he had not enough legs to stay up. Not enough arm to move around. Not enough torso to hold his head up. Not enough face to recognize a person. Not enough of anything to identify a living creature. Only a puddle of unknown liquid in an empty room.

Zax could only stand and watch, frozen in shock and horror, from start to finish. His mind was blank, passively observing, unresponsive even when the… result eventually lost its greenish glow and coalesced in an ovoid lump.

He didn’t register the glass wall, pipes and dials sliding in the walls, floor and ceiling.

He didn’t notice the floor lower under him and trap him in a lightless box.

The box opened in front of him. Light flooded, he blinked. People were circling him. He could hear them, shouting and gesturing, but the words didn’t reach his consciousness. Armed people. Enforcers, losing patience at his lack of reaction.

It took a long time to discern that he was back in the dot.

Is it over?

Realisation pulled him out of his fugue. He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his legs collapsing under him.

Pushing through the relief, the anguish, the physical and emotional exhaustion, a single thought reached his lips:

“There can be too much 3G.”