3G: the Glowing Green Goo

Turned out, his stunt had severe consequences Zax would have never guessed.

Large entities, company or other, using legal loopholes to steal products or concepts with impunity, had been a problem and an open secret until relatively recently.

Others had tried to attack a company’s wallet in retaliation before, but swift and decisive legal actions from the larger entity made it more harmful than beneficial, and strongly dissuasive. They knew how to protect their gains, however ill-acquired. Obtaining an official notice of non-involvement had never been done before; people gave up before reaching that point, and it served no other purpose than adding insult to injury for the losing side. They wouldn’t go that far, even if only out of respect for the victim’s tenacity, unless the dot was involved. Yet the now-handyman had managed to use it to deal an actual financial blow.

Sure, it hadn’t dealt a lot of damage on its own, but enough to be noticed. More importantly, it had set a precedent.

A real game changer, now the entities were the terrified of that certificate. Creators finally had a way of defending their due, and it had made a lot of noise in some social circles. Especially among mutation trainers; they had been a prime target for the scam. People had naturally tried to learn the full story behind the original case, but nothing conclusive could be found, a true ghost case. At some point, someone had coined the nickname “Ghost Hand”, and it had caught on, becoming something between a minor celebrity and an urban legend.

During Bathor’s explanation, Zax was surprised at how… normal she behaved. She had gradually loosened up over the week, but it only now dawned on him. She was pretty personable, when she didn’t give herself airs or tried to control everything.

“Uh. Neat. I never knew.” Zax was nonplussed, but he only had a single question: “What’s a mutation trainer?”

“That’s your first question?” Bathor welcomed the distraction. She was still reeling from his own retelling.

“The rest is surprising but not exactly hard to understand. Never affected me either,” He lifted a shoulder. “Everything I create is free of copyright. So? Trainers? For mutations? You mean from 3G, right? That doesn’t make sense, it can’t be controlled. It’s common knowledge. Trying to orient it is the best we can do, and it’s never a sure thing.”

“What, really? You don’t have that?” The Resident was even more flabbergasted than a second ago. “I don’t know the details, but they all have their own programs. They…” She hesitated, putting her thoughts in order. “They don’t promise anything, but they have some kind of… programs? I heard some are like fitness exercises, others use secret custom equipment… There are all types, really; some will push for specific body parts, others for a function… It’s not perfect, it doesn’t work every time or for everyone, but some have really awesome and consistent results. Those are crazy expensive though.”

“And the others are cheap?”

“In comparison, yes, but they’re still not something an average person can afford that often. There are a lot of expenses, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Zax nodded. “And the Great Families must have their own coaches and methods. I never understood how they could have such focus in their mutations only from their bloodline. I can totally understand why the freelancers would be targeted too; once a single example of their work is out, it’s not hard to make them talk.”

It was a whole new world for Zax, he hadn’t been that excited in a while. He was pacing behind his counter, spewing words faster than he could breathe. Even the templates hadn’t roused such a strong reaction:

“Guess we don’t have enough 3G to be worth actual professionals. Social Darwinism; our mutations don’t go far enough at once to warrant such focus. Not enough benefits for individual or society unless they are incredibly lucky. Wonder how I never heard about them. It’s not a recent development, is it?”

“Er, no?”

“Is that where you picked my compensation?”

“What- Yes? How did you-?” The question startled her.

“Makes sense.” He was already continuing. “Consciously keep track of their mutations, gathered in one place, urgently need more 3G. The subjects were pretty varied too, must be a good one.”

Zax’s rambling continued a bit, with Bathor trying to keep up, but he eventually ran out of steam.

“So… did we fulfil our part of the contract in a satisfactory manner?” She asked as he say on his stool and slumped on the counter.

Having observed his interactions with others, plus his recent recounting, the mediator had a better understanding of the dotter, his value and how to handle him.

“You did.” He instantly straightened, wiped his expression off his face and came back to a professional tone, although more relaxed than before: “Do you want an official admission before we move on?” He shook the loose metallic ring at his wrist.

She agreed after half a second of hesitation. She hadn’t considered it. It took him seconds and a few taps on the holographic screen.

“You know, you were incredibly lucky to stumble on me like you did. The identity and whereabouts of its specialists are some of the few pieces of information the main computer will personally enforce confidentiality upon. And we take it very seriously. Literally anyone else you tried to get help from would’ve had to refuse. Except the Enforcers, of course, but you don’t want them involved. So, what was this all about? What do you want from me, relating to this recording? I still don’t see what kind of trouble it could stir.”

“It- We need to, to… we need, you to…” She tarted of strong but sputtered off in less than a word.

What’s going on, now?

“Are you alright?” He frowned and stood up. “Do you need a moment? Water? Are you having a stroke?”

The actual concern in the last question made her stop, take a figurative step back, and reconsider her strategy:

“I have to go.” She briskly stated and took a literal step back.

“Seriously?” Zax raised an eyebrow.

He was understandably puzzled. She had made a lot of effort to make this moment happen, and she just… threw it away once everything was set?

“Sorry. I had a whole speech prepared, but I don’t think it will help anymore. Quite the opposite. I’ll be back. Later.”

“O- Okay. See ya”

She had already left before he could finish his sentence. He still didn’t feel involved in the issue, but he had to admit, he was intrigued by her behaviour. The handyman was imagining scenarios when SG’s head peeked from the backroom.

“Are they gone? That was the last one, right?” She timidly asked.

“Yes, and yes. Still worried they’d try to take you? You already confirmed the law, didn’t you?” He turned back to her. “The dot considers mutations as variations. Going from A to B. No matter how mutated ‘A’ is when you become a dotter, you will count as unmutated until B arrives. Then, the main computer will have to signal your existence to the Circle, and there will be grounds to claim you.”

“I… I know.” She hesitantly nodded.

“It’s an interesting loophole. Or a grey area? Joining the dot without being born in it was never considered. But thanks to that, nobody can make you a Resident against your will. Even if they know you exist. You can also make your personal data as private as you want.” He slowly lifted his hands, and softly grabbed her shoulders, to catch her eyes with his. “You are safe. Nobody can take you away.” He carefully enunciated each syllable.

His reassurance helped, but she still chose to cautiously keep her feathers out of sight. Fortunately, the Residents had never seen more than her head, crouched as she usually was behind the counter.

It was not the cause of her current unease, however:

“I’m sorry. I… I heard everything. Your past.” She confessed, avoiding his gaze.

“Sorry? What for? It wasn’t a secret. I didn’t think about it for years. Therapy can do a world of good.”

A glance from her confirmed he was telling the truth, which seemed to calm her some.

The horned woman didn’t come back the next day, or the day after, so they put the issue out of their minds. Aran didn’t sense they had given up, and Zax agreed, but SG wanted to stay hopeful.

In the meantime, a discovery changed their routine. Out of curiosity, Zax had compared their neural patterns at rest. During their meditation sessions, all three of them had similar readings, way more than usual.

In hindsight, it made sense on paper; conscious thoughts were kept to a minimum, so less interference. It made comparing their patterns a lot easier – he wished he had seen it before – and even pointed him to a blind spot in the improved template making algorithm.

It also brought Zax back to a part of his studies he had quickly skimmed for their too narrow use, with a most interesting result: a deep enough meditation made the C-nanites strangely straightforward to synchronise. It was beyond communication between computers; the nanites became part of a whole. Like a drone an its remote. A triple connection was harder to pull off, but they were getting there.

The difficulty mostly came from the biological side of things. They were not sufficiently skilled to all go deep enough, simultaneously, for any length of time. It would come with practice, which motivated them to up their sessions. Free running sessions were mingled with meditation too, although a more mobile form.

The potential applications were mind-boggling, literally and figuratively, which was why the expert wouldn’t try anything recklessly. It merely put his live-test schedule forward. Which meant acquiring lab rats. Which, as it turned out, were actually white mice, a breed commonly used in medical testing. Out of convenience, he ordered a full litter, meaning a dozen specimen, but he would have to take them in person. Delivery services were not qualified to carry living creatures.

Taking care of animals was indeed a different beast than plants, in their needs, material, and regulations. Not a surprise, but it took him a while to figure out all the rules. Enough 3G could let them develop ways to escape their living spaces, and even to reach sapience. The Circles had ways to deal with that, but not the dot, so the laws were particularly harsh. The result could be catastrophic at every level.

The dot avoided organic materials as much as possible, so the only animals were kept by hobbyists and the rare service pet owner. Fabrics, meal pills and nutritive solutions were made in laboratories and purely synthetic. It was advised to keep the critters away from the 3G, and to keep track of the amount given, and regular intelligence tests were mandatory. There was no ambiguity about it; accident, sabotage, or else, if a non-sentient creature under your care reached sapience, they were considered a full-fledged person and under your legal responsibility; like your children. You were to take care of their needs and education until they had enough knowledge and maturity to live on their own. Even if they chose not to afterwards, free will would not be infringed upon.

There were helps in place for everyone involved, which made Zax question how often it had happened. He had never heard of a pet mutating into sapience, of all things, outside fictions; but he had never looked into it either. Most likely, occurrences were few and far between, and the main computer only needed the first occurrence to take the next ones into account. No matter how unlikely, with enough time, a matter of “if” became a matter of “when”.

Learning all that was required, then actually doing it, had been annoying and time consuming, but he was finally reaching the end. He had made the required living spaces with his ordinary nanites – because why not? The blueprints were free – he had stocks of appropriate litter and food, and he had passed the required tests to prove he knew what he was doing. He only had to go meet the supplier, a hobbyist breeding all kind of diminutive critters, and he was currently on the way to their appointment.

If that’s their hobby, I wonder what they do for a living.

Zax idly pondered on the light road. He was alone for once; his roommates having elected to use their time to rest their bodies and minds after their training, by diving in online games.

The breeder had an impressive array of critters, and he wasn’t stingy with words about them. His passion was communicative, so the exchange took longer than expected. The tour was interesting on its own, and the man had a lot of tips and hindsight one wouldn’t find in books. Zax eventually left, a cage of freshly weaned mice in one hand, and a bag of the required non-consumable items, identifications and health bills in the other. They were included in the original offer, it couldn’t hurt to have spare parts, and the breeder had mentioned to put control groups and test subjects in separated but identical living spaces.

Because of the unexpected delay, he couldn’t set them up in his shop if he wanted to reach home before curfew. He would have had to rush anyway, so he wasn’t bothered. The furballs would just have to spent the night with him, and he would take his time setting them up the next day.

He took great care to not jostle them on the way, but failed as soon as he reached his destination.

“Kyaaa! So cuuute!” The shriek startled him as much as them.

Both girls were instantly head over hills for the tiny beasties. He had not seen it coming. Nor how heartbroken they were when he reminded them of the goal behind their purchase. It did give him an opportunity though:

“I need to separate some to make a control group.”

“It’s a group that won’t be experimented on. To be a basis for what effect he will have on the others.” The foxy girl explained to their confused friend.

“Wrong choice of word, but that’s the idea. I planned for two cages in the backroom, but I can keep one here if you take care of them. It’d make things easier for me. They are my responsibility, and you can’t legally have pets. Once you pass the qualifications, we can change that. I can help, the regulations make sense when you know what to do. I’ll just need to keep them under observation, and you can’t give them any 3G. At all. At least until I’m done with the others.”

Aran loudly squealed her joy at the idea. SG was more subtle, but her soft smile, as she watched a mouse running all over her wings, didn’t leave any doubt about her contentment.

There were twelve mice in total; Zax let them keep three. He chose them to be as representative of the sample as possible, but he only separated them in the morning. He made the corner of his living room into a smaller, incomplete copy of the living space he had prepared in his workshop, but the consumables, litter and food, would be an issue until he could better spread his supplies. He took some that had come with the cage, to make them more at ease, but it wasn’t enough to be comfortable.

It was against regulations, but they would have to deal with it for the time being. Aran proposed to use her lunch break to deliver the most pressing parts from his shop, and definitely not to gush over them. It made Zax gave his first “So you want to be a pet owner?” lesson, with strict instructions on what to do and NOT do, to avoid them escaping in the dot and doing untold damage.

He might have been more graphic than necessary when he explained the potential consequences of failing, but better be safe than sorry.

If everything went well, everything would be set by the evening. Maybe earlier, if they delayed their training session. It was a bad habit to make, but they had worked hard.

He was still setting up when he was notified of Bathor passing the border. The long-awaited conversation was coming.

SG wouldn’t have the backroom to hide like usual, so he gave her the rest of the day. It wasn’t standard practice, but she had made enough progress to allow some flexibility. It uneased her, but the lonely uncomfortable mice at home helped soften the pill. She walked home on her own, and she even declined the remote surveillance he proposed.

It made him proud.